Russell Twyce

In Quest of Haute Sects

Short Fiction by Russell Twyce

“Oh my God,” the male college student exclaimed to his friend as an incredibly beautiful young woman walked by, “she is ultra fine!”

“I concur.” The substantially older man had looked up from his idle perusing of a course calendar: he had no intention of taking any classes. “I suppose she has a boyfriend or husband.”

“Not that I know of.” The younger man sighed heavily. “She is like way out of any guy’s league.”

“That must be quite lonely for her.” The mature man said sagely. “Perhaps I should solve that dilemma for her.”

“You can only wish!” The male student laughed. “If none of the guys here stand a chance, then the odds of your scoring with her are infinitesimal. I would gladly bet a billion dollars against.”

“I do enjoy a challenge but if I succeed, I won’t come bragging,” his eyes had followed the scintillating female while she crossed to her work area, “even if you did have that amount of wager money.”

“Well,” the younger man stood, “I should get to my next class. Thanks again for bringing over my forgotten homework paper.”

“See you later.” The older man took a renewed interest in the campus brochure but this time his gaze was intent on it. His left hand stroked his clean-shaven chin as he pre-planned his stealthy approach.

Conversational Hypnosis Blasts Away the Ice

“This seems fascinating and exciting to me.” He was holding the pamphlet book against his chest and tapped his finger several times on a course title.

“I’m not actually the person with information.” The girl glanced up from the page to his face. “I just do parking passes.”

“Then I am human and in err.” He smiled. “Your presence struck me as so fact filled that I was drawn to you with my simple query.”

“I can try to help.” She offered. “What did you wish to know?”

“How do I apply to attend this stimulating course?” He was still holding the booklet open and he tapped on it once again.

“You’re kidding?” She had read the title: it was on the subject of religion. “Right?”

“Au contraire mon cher.” He grinned and set the course synopsis onto the corner of her desk. The man was probably twice her age or more but he was fit for his age. “I find the topic haute, that is h-a-u-t-e,” he spelled it out, “and sects, as in s-e-c-t-s, is a particularly attractive pursuit.”

“I’m glad you clarified.” She giggled at his flirtatious word usages. “Otherwise, your phrasing might’ve been grossly misconstrued.”

“And you are serious about enrolling in this class?” Her eyes inadvertently roamed slightly up from the page. His height and proximity to her desk placed the bulge in his jeans into her line of sight—and her gaze lingered.

“Yes”

“Uh,” she forced her eyes away to extract a card and pick up her pen, “I’ll give you the contact person to call.”

“Thank you dear.” His gratitude flowed like honey over his lips. He watched her right hand tremble slightly as she jotted down the information. Then he collected the card, turned, and walked away without a backwards glance.

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“May I speak with Belinda Peterman?” He asked after making the call on his cell.

“There is nobody here by that name.”

“Her flustered mistake is a positive sign.” He then dialed the college information line to get the corrected information. And he examined the differences. “Peterman instead of Pederson is pleasantly Freudian and my manhood was somewhat in her face at the time.” Comparing the phone numbers turned up a second discrepancy. “The last four digits should be 3766 but my quarry wrote 3799. I wonder if I’ll ever know what inspired that slip-up?”

“To acquire the finest pelts,” he keyed his ignition, “an experienced trapper must exercise patience.”

The man was smiling as he drove away. He would return at the opportune time.

Conversational Hypnosis sends Selected Minds Wherever You Want

Jenna had experienced the warm glow of an increased blood flow, even before the interesting man turned and left. She couldn’t resist watching his butt as he strode away. An older man has never turned me on before. Her mind marveled at her body’s state of pique. That’s odd: a pick-up attempt often has the exact opposite effect on me.

Then she got back to work and diverted her mind from the mildly erotic interlude. But he wouldn’t stay away from her thoughts for long. Whenever she encountered the number nine, his memory returned.

“I rated him as nine on my one-to-ten scale.” She muttered. “Even a shirtless Brad Pitt only rates a 9 and my mysterious man wasn’t that handsome or exceptionally well buffed. I must’ve factored in his entrancing intellect and suave demeanor. I think I also added points for the nine that my mind envisioned behind his zipper.”

Spurred by that last thought, she again felt a flush sexual excitement and the girl broke her pencil’s nib on her note pad. She examined the breakage and noticed for the first time how a pencil’s firm lead was tightly encased in the wooden sleeve.

“Damn!” Jenna chuckled lustily as she went to the sharpener. “I could almost go for some haute sects training right now.”

[private_Chevron]“To my profound sorrow, I didn’t connect.”

A startled Jenna spun around. She had been collecting her jacket from the peg at the end of her workday. She glanced down at the card he was proffering and the errors quickly stood out for her.

“Oops.” She sheepishly said, and then the conjured passions of her day resurfaced in a rush. “I’m off now but I’d be happy to correct the information over breakfast.” She had meant to suggest coffee but the morning repast had slipped out instead.

“Certainly,” like a gentleman, he gently took her elbow and opened the door for her, “and right now is the ideal moment to begin a breakfast assignation.”[/private_Chevron]

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“I had a wonderful night.” Jenna passionately kissed her much older lover after he had opened the car door for her. She pushed her pelvis into his as his hands found and squeezed her shapely butt.

“Enjoy your day and I’ll see you tonight.” He watched her walk into the building.

“Dude!” The man’s younger friend rushed over after witnessing the scene. “I bow respectfully to a true master but I’m a student and flat broke.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” The older man laughed. “I’m not going to break your kneecaps.  Last night was more than worth every dime of that unpaid wager.”

The End

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