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This is the continuation of the stories “The New Matilde” and “The New Matilde – 11 Months Later”.
1.
Friday, May 15th:
It’s Friday, 4.15 p.m. and I’m exhausted. Exactly as exhausted as you’d be if you just spent a week on a field trip with 23 13-year-olds in the countryside in Jutland. The last two days I was alone with them, as my colleague Anders had to rush home because his daughter had been admitted to hospital.
I’m at Copenhagen Central. We arrived 20 minutes ago on a train that was one hour late. The parents have picked up their kids. And for me it’s finally weekend.
I’m standing in the station hall with my backpack, in my hiking boots, my brown Fjällräven zip-off trousers and my green lumberjack shirt. It’s an outfit that I’d rather describe as practical than sexy.
I’ve been on a train without being able to smoke for more than three hours.
I buy a pack of Marlboro Reds at a 7-Eleven and leave the station through the Istedgade exit. It rains heavily, so I put on my, as it turns out not sufficiently waterproof, light jacket before leaving the building. The very limited dry spot on the pavement is ocuppied by a group of bearded men, sharing a bottle of cheap liquor. I don’t feel like joining them and start walking down Istedgade past the cheap hotels and the porn shops. I turn left towards Sønder Boulevard, looking for a decent espresso at some cafe with dry outdoor seating.
I reach a crowded cafe after five minutes. By this time I’m more or less soaked. I must be looking like a drowned mouse as I order a double espresso and hand the bartender my flat iPhone and charger to get it plugged in behind the counter. I’ve been out of touch with the world for the past four hours. The battery in my phone is completely unreliable and needs replacement. On top of that the power sockets on the train were out of order.
The friendly, young bartender has my espresso ready within a minute. I take it and turn around to go outside to sit at an outdoor table under a canopy where I can finally smoke a cigarette while staring into the rain.
“Oh! Hi!” says Mikkel as I almost bump into him and nearly spill my espresso on his white T-shirt, which is as wet as my clothes.
Mikkel, who is merely 18, is my former live-in boyfriend. I’m 30, by the way. He moved back to his parents in January when I made it clear to him that I was not going to have the child he had impregnated me with despite my diligent use of my diaphragm and lots of spermicide. I decided on my own to go through with the abortion and hoped that he would come to his senses and move back in, once the pregnancy had been terminated.
But he didn’t.
It’s not that we haven’t seen each other since January. We have. We even had sex twice. Well, three times if you count oral. But it just never was the same. Something between us was broken.
“Hi, Mikkel!” I reply and look up at the young girl with the wet, dark hair whose hand he is holding possessively.
“Are you going to introduce us?” I demand.
“Yes. Of course. This is Sofie. And this is Matilde. She is… my old teacher.”
Okay. So I am your old teacher now, am I?
“And Sofie is…?”
“My girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend? Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, Sofie. I extend my hand toward the pretty girl.”
Sofie smiles back at me and takes my hand, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend and I have had great, and quite recent, sex. That I actually liberated him from virginity less than a year ago. His old teacher!
“Please come and sit with us,” Sofie suggests. “I’d like to hear stories about how Mikkel was at school.”
Mikkel smiles uncertainly.
“I don’t know if Matilde will have time for that. I’m sure she would like to enjoy her weekend and not be bothered by former students.”
“No no. Not at all. I’d love to get to know your girlfriend, Mikkel. How long have you been together?”
“A month. Yesterday,” Sofie smiles, glancing at Mikkel.
I meet his eyes with slightly raised eyebrows as I count back in my built-in calendar. It must be three weeks ago that I last gave him a blowjob. One that he liked very much, that is.
“Okay,” Mikkel says, realizing that he’s not going to get rid of me that easy. “Let me get our lattes. You two find a table. I’m sure you’d like to sit outside where you can smoke…”
I most certainly do. But before I can even nod, Sofie answers in an irritated tone:
“Stop talking about smoking, Mikkel. I don’t smoke. Why do you keep talking about it?”
She turns to me to explain:
“Mikkel has this strange fantasy that he wants me to smoke a cigarette in front of him. He says it’s sexy when girls smoke and he wants me to try it. But I don’t want to smoke. I tried it once when I was 14 and I didn’t like it.”
I shake my head:
“What’s that, Mikkel? Are you trying to persuade your girlfriend to harm her lungs? Didn’t I teach you about the health risks connected antalya escort to smoking?”
“Yes, but…”
“What about yourself, Mikkel: Do you smoke?” I ask, well aware of the answer.
“No. I don’t.”
“So you’re one of those non-smoking men who find pleasure in watching their girlfriends expose themselves to a cancer risk? Is that it, Mikkel?”
“It was… I just… once or twice asked Sofie if she would like to try smoking, and…”
“You asked me that five times!” Sofie interrupts.
“I must have been drunk… You just find a table. I’ll join you with the lattes.”
I pick up my espresso from the counter and go through the crowd cafe trying to find a table with three chairs. After a while we realize, to my relief, that the only option is to sit outside under the canopy. Which we do.
I sip my espresso as Sofie begins:
“Now tell me about Mikkel!”
“First let me ask you a question, Sofie. Did Mikkel ask you to get a tattoo?”
She looks at me, surprised:
“How did you know? Yes! He asked me last week if I would get a tattoo. Because he finds tattoos sexy on women…”
“And what did you say?”
“I reminded him that I’m just 17. You have to be 18 to get a tattoo.”
“But would you like one?”
“I don’t know… A small one maybe. But it’s so… irreversible. Anyway, it’s not on the agenda as long as I’m still a minor. What do you think?”
“Oh… I think you shouldn’t jump into being tattooed. You’re absolutely right. It’s irreversible. I’d think about it twice if I were you.”
“You know… we had this weird conversation, Mikkel and I. We were in bed together and he asked me if I was willing to smoke a cigarette and get a tattoo. He said he would like me to. Because it would be sexy. Isn’t that a strange thing to say?”
“Actually… it’s not all that uncommon. A lot of men get really horny when they see a beautiful women smoking a cigarette.”
“They do?”
“Yes. And I abolutely think Mikkel is one of them.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked you to smoke. He’s got a smoking fetish.”
“Oh… A fetish,” Sofie says.
In her mouth the word sounds like a disease.
“Yes. Don’t worry. A smoking fetish isn’t dangerous. That is… not for the person with the fetish. Obviously in the long run smoking is dangerous for the person who smokes. As we all know from the warnings on the cigarette packs that you can get cancer, lose your eyesight, harm your babies, need amputations of your toes and so on. But that’s not the fetishist’s problem.”
“And how can you be so sure he’s a… fetishist?”
“Well… If a non-smoker chooses to date a smoker, that’s one thing. He might want her for other qualities than her smoking. But a non-smoker who directly asks his non-smoking girlfriend to smoke… That’s a smoking fetishists if I ever saw one. Believe me!”
Sofie looks up at Mikkel who comes out the door carrying two glasses of latte.
“What are you two talking about?” he asks with a smile, putting down the glasses on the table.
“What do you think? You of course! Matilde is revealing all sorts of new information about you.”
Mikkel sends me a worrisome glance.
“Nothing bad, I hope.”
“No. But very interesting.”
Mikkel bends down to kiss Sofie on the mouth.
“Listen… I urgently need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he says and walks back into the cafe.
“How well do you know Mikkel?” Sofie asks, as he’s gone.
“I know him pretty well, I guess. After all, I’ve been his… teacher for three years.”
“So you’re sure about his… fetish.”
More than I’m able to tell you, honey.
“Yes. And you know what? I think I can prove my point. Why don’t you pretend to smoke a cigarette when he comes out again? And then watch out for the bump in his trousers and the way he starts kissing you wildly to taste you smoker’s breath.”
“My breath? He likes a smoker’s breath?”
“Absolutely. He will want to kiss you all the time while you’re smoking.”
“But… don’t smokers taste like ashtrays?”
“Well… some people think so. But they’re not into the smoking fetish. Mikkel is. I guarantee that!”
“So you think I should… pretend to smoke a cigarette. What do you mean? Like this?”
Sofie puts two fingers to her lips pretending to hold something between them.
I laugh.
“I don’t think that’ll do the trick. No. Let me show you.”
I take out my Marlboros and my lighter from the thigh pocket of my trousers and pick two cigarettes from the pack.
“You are a smoker?” Sofie asks in surprise.
“Oh yeah. I’m a heavy smoker. And I really need one now,” I reply with the two cigarettes in my mouth, lighting them at once.
“But you said… you had taught Mikkel…”
“Yeah. I always tell my students to do as I say. Not as I do. Here!”
I hand Sofie one of the cigarettes, enjoying a deep drag from the other.
“Here! Take it!” I insist. alanya escort
“But why?”
“As I said: It’s a total turn-on for someone like Mikkel. Just watch his crotch once he sees you with a cigarette. I promise.”
Shrugging reluctantly, but with a smile, Sofie extends her right hand and takes the cigarette between her index and middle finger.
“Like this.”
I show her how to hold it.
“Do I have to smoke it?”
“No. Once it’s lit, it’s smoking itself. Just hold it like that and wait for Mikkel to come back. And remember to flip off the ash.”
“Like this?”
She flips of a tiny bit of ash on the pavement.
“Yes. It’s absolutely perfect.”
“And what now?”
“Now we wait for Mikkel to finish peeing.”
“What about the tattoos? Do you think Mikkel also has a tattoo fetish?”
He absolutely has. More than you’d like to know, baby.
In that second I spot Mikkel out of the corner of my eye. I look up at his face as he detects the fact that not only his former teacher and girlfriend, the heavy smoker Matilde, but also his innocent young highschool sweetheart seems to be enjoying a cigarette.
I immediately notice the hard-on that is standing out like a tower inside his trousers. And I can tell from the way Sofie smiles at me that she has noticed too.
Mikkel bends down to kiss her on the mouth and sits down close to her.
Sofie touches the bump in his trousers with her hand:
“What’s that, Mikkel? Is it so exciting to see me?”
“Erhm…”
Sofie smiles, holding up her burning cigarette:
“It wouldn’t be because of this? Would it?”
“Maybe… yeah… I guess that’s part of it,” he says, blushing.
I smile knowingly at the young couple, as Sofie continues:
“Actually… I’m not really smoking. I’m just holding it. Because Matilde told me that she thinks you have a smoking fetish.”
Mikkel looks at me, obviously wondering how much I told Sofie.
“Maybe you should try to take some smoke into your mouth, Sofie,” I suggest. “I think it will make Mikkel happy.”
Sofie looks at me:
“First you teach Mikkel not to smoke. And now you teach me to smoke?”
I smile:
“What can I say? Teaching is what a teacher does.”
Sofie glances at Mikkel, holding her cigarette near her mouth, silently asking, Should I? Mikkel nods encouragingly. Sofie places the cigarette between her lips and sucks in a small amount of smoke that she blows out immediately in small, feminine coughs. Mikkel leans forward to get the experience of Sofie’s first smoking kiss ever.
The young lovers sit closely together. I break into their intimacy.
“So… Sofie. Do you like it?”
She smiles.
“I don’t like the taste of smoke. But I like holding the cigarette between my fingers like a lady. And I really like the effect it has on Mikkel.”
“Obviously. And I think you’ll get used to the taste very fast. At least I did. After a couple of days I really enjoyed smoking. And I have ever since.”
“Did you start smoking when you were very young, Matilde?” Sofie asks.
“That… depends. I will be 31 this fall. And I’m still kind of young. Don’t you think?”
Sofie smiles at me in a way that makes it clear to me that she considers 31 very old.
“Anyway… I was 28. It’s less that two years ago now.”
“Oh…,” Sofie says. “I didn’t think adults would start smoking like that.”
“Well. I did.”
“And why?”
“I guess I ran into one of those smoking fetishists.”
“Oh…”
“And, in my experience I did the absolutely right thing. I can really recommend smoking oral sex between a smoker and a smoking fetischist. It can be extremely passionate and fulfilling. And apart from that I don’t regret one single cigarette of the many thousands I’ve smoked by now. I really like smoking.”
I pause to inhale smoke from my Marlboro before continuing:
“But apart from the sheer pleasure of smoking… If you have a smoking fetishist boyfriend and you want his attention, or sex or just a kiss, you have this magic wand…”
I raise my cigarette in the air while exhaling smoke.
“You just have to get your cigarettes out and light one. And you have his full attention. Like now. Look at him!”
I point at Mikkel with my wand. His eyes have been fixated on Sofie and her cigarette since he came back from the toilet.
Sofie takes another minimal drag and blows the smoke into Mikkel’s happy face:
“You like that?” she asks in her cuddliest voice.
“Oh, yeah,” he smiles, keeping his mouth and nose close to her smoky breath.
Sofie takes a deeper drag and blows out more smoke in his face, but ends up coughing.
Then she looks at me:
“What about tattoos?”
“Yeah? What about them?” I reply.
“I mean… can I ask if you have a tattoo.”
I smile:
“Oh yes. I have a tattoo.”
“Where? Can I see?”
Mikkel alanya rus escort breaks into the conversation:
“That’s private. I’m not sure, Matilde wants to show her tattoos here at a cafe.”
Mikkel should know better. Actually showing my full-body tattoo to complete strangers has become kind of a hobby to me.
“Oh. Don’t worry. I don’t mind, Sofie.”
I put the cigarette between my lips and start unlacing my right hiking boot. I roll of the sock and rub off small pieces of cotton from my beautifully tattooed foot which I then stretch toward Sofie.
“Oh… It’s all covered,” she blurts out. “What a nice flower.”
I take the cigarette in my left hand and point to my foot with the right.
“Yes. The big, red flower there used to be a Marlboro logo that my ex-boyfriend, this non-smoking smoking fetishist, paid for having tattooed on my foot. It was my second tattoo.”
“You had a cigarette logo tattooed on your foot?”
“Yeah. And Marlboro Red is my brand of choice. Maybe because my ex-boyfriend bought me thousands of them. But I’ve kept buying them anyway.”
“Aren’t they strong cigarettes?”
“Yes. But I imagine that I would just smoke more if I switched to lights. I need my daily dosage of nicotine to function properly. And smoking more cigarettes would cost more money. I’m fine with the Reds when it comes to dosage and taste. But about the tattoo… I later agreed with my tattooist that a flower would suit the jungle theme better.”
“Oh… it’s a jungle?”
“Yes. And it’s all over me now.”
“All over you?”
“Yeah. I’ll show you. But first: Do you see those letters? I have my name tattooed above my toes, right below the original Marlboro logo. And the letters are the Marlboro font. You see?”
I pick up my cigarette pack from the table and hold it next to my foot. Sofie nods.
“I’ll just show you how the jungle extends up my leg,” I explain, zipping off my soaked, right trousers leg to reveal my shin and lower thigh that are all covered by the flora and fauna of an African rainforest.
“Wow. That’s impressive,” Sofie says, pointing at my leg with her cigarette. “What about the other leg?”
“I’ll show you…”
I put my cigarette back between my lips and start unlacing my left boot while instructing Sofie:
“Maybe you want to smoke that cigarette before it smokes itself? Why don’t you flip off the ash and take another drag?”
Sofie flips off ash and looks seducingly at Mikkel before sucking at her cigarette. This time she manages not to cough in the process. Mikkel has a broad smile on his face while admiring Sofie’s exhale. Meanwhile she is focused on my tattooed feet and legs.
“Actually it’s just my head, neck and hands that aren’t covered by this very fertile rainforest,” I casually remark, rolling up my sleeves to show my arms.
Sofie leans foward to butt out her cigarette in the ashtray. This reminds me that I’m at the end of my own Marlboro and I put it out next to Sofie’s.
“I can also show you my tattooed belly,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt. “I’m wearing this very decent bra. So I think it’s not a problem to open up here.”
I hold out my shirt to show Sofie the tattoos above and below my boops.
“So… you’re not like… shy to show your tattoos,” Sofie asks.
“Shy? Why would I be shy? I wasn’t tattooed because I wanted to hide my tattoos. I was tattooed because I wanted to show them to the world. And actually I have. Last month I was in Amsterdam at this tattooists’ convention where I was walking up and down the catwalk just wearing my high heels and a minimalistic thong. And we… that is my tattooist Casper and I… won third price in the category Women’s Full-Body.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Oh… I forget the stickers. I was also wearing these two yellow stickers with the text Extra Sweet Pineapple to cover my areolas. You see…”
I lean forward, pulling at the left side of my bra to allow Sofie a peek at my tits:
“… my boops are tattooed as pinapples. You can see the pattern here.”
“Oh. That’s very authentic.”
“Yes. Isn’t it? As I told you: You should think twice before getting tattooed. It’s absolutely addictive. You can’t stop once you’ve started. All of this was done within… 15 or 16 months.”
“Isn’t it expensive?”
“Oh yeah. Very. But my rich ex-boyfriend really invested in my body. You know this non-smoking smoking fetishist who turned out to also be a tattoo fetishist. He paid for most of it.”
Sofie glances at her boyfriend:
“What do you think, Mikkel?”
“What? Oh… I think it looks cool.”
“So you want me to get a… full-body tattoo?” she continues.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Will you pay for it?”
“If I have the money. Yes. I can’t afford to have your whole body covered now. But we could start with a small tattoo as your birthday present on your eighteenth. And take it from there.”
“Watch out: It’s addictive and expensive,” I interject with a smile.
“I’ll think about it and let you know what I’d like for my birthday,” Sofie finishes the subject.
I wonder if I have just destroyed Mikkel’s plan for her tattoos. Maybe seeing my tropical rainforest is a little scary for a young girl who has no tattoos at all.
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