How long has she been on these dates with the professor, Lu considers, as she counts the years on her fingers. Her skin is still tender, even though she realizes that the days are passing, just as her youthfulness. Nevertheless, at his regular conferences, the professor calls her to the hotel to watch naked Lu lolling on the bed. Just like today, when she prepares herself in front of the bathroom mirror of her 2-room apartment and a light smile glides over her lips. In the beginning she found it strange that the professor gave her 500€ for an evening when she would do nothing but touch herself, while he was taking his notes. Observantly he sat on the velvety baroque armchair under a small lamp, looking like a detective who wanted to remember every action.


Sometimes he talked about Tokyo and Paris and his two mistresses, which he booked just like Lu over and over again when he was in town, to watch them masturbate and how he put his studies on paper. What he wrote down, however, has been denied to her so far. She was more than curious to know what he found out with his analyses; the diversity of masturbation of women from different countries. Lu felt like a research project and she liked it. Whether she has changed her way of self-love over the years, she could not say. She wanted to try to catch a glimpse of his notes. He always left the book on the side table and trusted in their quiet agreement, the pact that equated to a relationship. She got the money, he, on the other hand her deepest desires. They would then see each other again, next time and everything would happen the same way.

He had a suitcase with a variety of toys with him, which he presented to her. Lu always chose the same. It was a clitoral stimulator, nothing more and nothing less. She lay naked on the bed, spread her legs and began to rub her vulva with circling movements. She always used the strongest step and only changed the pressure. The professor made his notes. She liked the sound of the pencil rolling over the sides, it appeared that she had a lot to tell. She also liked the way the professor looked at her from time to time under his glasses and how he noticed her excitement. There were nights when Lu had several orgasms in a row, when the professor demanded it, there were no breaks. Sometimes he would ask her what she was thinking about. Due to the permanent stimulation Lu lost control and wanted nothing more than for the professor to touch her. She wished him to penetrate her vagina and anus with his fingers as she continued to massage her clitoris with the vibrator. Then she lifted her sex high into the air to demonstrate her lust, and the desire for double penetration grew ever greater. She spread her buttocks apart and slowly pushed her index finger in, thinking of the professor who, as always, was sitting on the armchair taking his notes with discipline. Again, she thought about what he might have noticed, what distinguishes her from the other women, and how she would like to know what was in his secret book.


Full of anticipation, Lu straightens her dress in the elevator and recalls all the days in all the years when she made exactly the same hand movements before she was knocking on his hotel door. She has missed him and is looking forward to a night of many highlights. She doesn’t know much about the professor, whose calmness seemed like an unfathomable mystery. His stories about the two other women were circulating in her mind and gave her an idea of belonging. When he talked about them, she felt a great joy, like a romantic relationship he had built up with everyone equally, and none of them is less desirable. Lu noticed already a strong devotion after her third encounter as she exposed herself in front of him, she could no longer deny her affection.

He opens the door for her. The professor looks level-headed, his time seems to have stopped. He strokes her cheeks, kisses her forehead, lingers with his gaze in her eyes for a moment and with his smile he makes clear how important she is to him. He takes her coat off and sits down on his armchair. He crosses his legs, pushes his glasses over his face, then waits patiently for Lu to get rid of her clothes. How she closes the open suitcase, how she takes it from the bed, and how she finally spreads her legs to stimulate her sex with her favourite toy. He is the silent observer and witness of a unique experience that, even though he has observed it a thousand times in exactly the same way, always leads to new insights. The pencil rolls quickly from one side to the other, sometimes it stops and pauses, then when the professor follows his curiosity instead of the written word, and pays attention to Lu in her beauty. »What are you thinking?«, he asks, as Lu closes her eyes and moistens her lips. »I wish you would come to me, professor. You’ve never touched me, that’s the only thing I want and which always ruled my thoughts.«, »Then open your eyes and look at me!«, the professor adds. Lu replies silently. She looks at him as she spreads her legs further, massaging her clitoris with the vibrator. She enjoys his glances around her sex, she enjoys how he continues his notes; determined, empathetic.


After he has given Lu several orgasms that night and both lose themselves in their eyes deeply satisfied, he closes the book and goes into the bathroom. Lu takes the opportunity and jumps straight from the bed. This is the moment when her truths will reveal themselves. Naked, she browse through his notes in the haze of the lamplight. Her facial expression changes. There is nothing in the book about the way she satisfies herself or about the other two women. He has written a poem. A poem which ends with the last page, here. It’s about bookends he found. Friends, relationships, something that is sometimes so incredibly difficult to hold and yet magical when you can feel soul connections. Lu finds sketches of her sitting on the edge of the bed, in the silk dress, it is the same dress she wears today, in different periods of time. He has absorbed every wrinkle, every smile and every expression in her face exactly the way she feels, whenever she’s with him.

»Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear
A time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences«