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Just a Village Girl
By The Englishman


She wasn’t really concentrating on Evens song. She eyed her pray across the chapel. It was funny. They had both grown up in the same little town, but their lives had been completely different. They had been at Primary School together, but he had left at the age of 7 to go to one of the best boarding schools in the country, followed by Oxford University. He had graduated with honours and had gone on to become a doctor. Now he was back, practicing in the same little town that they had gone up in. He was very kind and caring, and because he never seemed to have had a girlfriend and spoke in a soft gentle voice and was slightly effeminate, people thought he was homosexual, even though no one could name any guy he was meant to be with. She knew that he was shy and didn’t know how to handle women, having never had any brothers or sisters and having attended all-boys schools, and having been bought up by strict Christian parents who “didn’t believe in sleeping around”.

How different her life had been. She had struggled at her local high school, married young, had a child, only to lose he husband in a horrific motorbike accident. She wanted the young doctor, but it had to be on her terms. She didn’t let anyone rule her. She had married against the advice of her parents, particularly her father who had virtually disowned her at one point. Now they were very supportive, often looking after the baby boy, but she hated being dependent on them. Perhaps the guy a like this could be just what she was looking for and she knew exactly how to get him.

After the service coffee was served. She fluffed up her lovely think fair hair and she moved up to him and smiled, looking deeply into his eyes with her lovely big brown eyes. He looked back into her eyes and smiled back.

“You probably don’t remember me, but we were in the same class at primary school at one time.”

“Actually I do remember you”, he replied. A few minutes of small talk followed, as they shared memories of time in that infant school. She told him how eventually it had closed and been turned into a pub.

“I’d love to visit it and see how it is now” he commented, and she suggested that they could go together right now. He agreed. They went to his car. He opened the car door for her, and she thanked him, saying how nice it was to meet someone with manners. He made a mental note of this. He had forgotten the way, so she had to direct him. She loved saying things like “turn right here” or “turn left now”. She felt he was already getting into the routine of doing exactly whatever she told him to do.

They parked the car and wandered round the place, saying things like “do you remember the old outside toilets there” and “this used to be the playground”. The food served food and an inviting smell of cooking filled their nostrils. “Although it is a shame it closed as a school, it looks like it is a lovely pub now” she said. He agreed. It was a warm summer’s evening, and quite some while since they had had their coffees. “I’d love to go inside and see what it is like, but we can hardly go in unless we buy a drink, and I have no money on me”. Once again he picked up on her suggestion. “It is OK, I’ll buy you a drink” he said. She turned at him and smiled that dazzling smile again at him, thanked him. “Come on then” she said, walking towards the door. He obediently started following her. He noticed she was wearing really tight jeans and his eyes were glued to her lovely bum swaying back and forth as he followed her.

“Buy me a diet coke and whatever you want. I will be sitting over there.” She pointed to the quietest corner. As he went to the bar, she sat down, with her back to a plain bit of wall. She didn’t want anything or anyone to distract him and she wanted to be able to look round the bar. She then re-arranged the furniture, changing his chair for a stool which was lower. She wanted him to look up at her. There were two reasons for this. Firstly she wanted to get him used to looking up at her – both figuratively and literally. Secondly she knew that by looking up at her for a while, it would make his eyes tire.

He returned with the drinks. She looked into his eyes again. She started talking about herself. All night long she chatted away. If you considered what she said you would probably find it boring, but he found it fascinating. She just talked about herself, her likes and dislikes, her friends and family, and how she got on with them all. He knew that women hated feeling that they are not being listened to, so he listened intently. His medical training and experience had made him a good listener. In his mind he would go over what she had just said, so that he learned it and would not have to ask her the same question twice. By the end of the evening my head was spinning with all the things she had said.

At the same time, while she talked, she looked at me. After a while he began to admire her eyes, and while still listened intently. He began to think how nice her eyes were. He began to notice how the lights reflected in them, and the little specs in her eyes, they were a slightly different colour. He felt strange when she looked into my eyes. He felt he just wanted to look a little longer, look a little deeper. When she paused in speaking, and he asked her a question she would glance away, have a little think, and then she would look into his eyes again as she replied. When she glanced away he would feel disappointed, and when she looked into my eyes again he would feel happy again.

Right from very early on she could almost control him with those eyes. Something would catch her attention, and he would follow her gaze to see what she was looking at. He put a packet of sweets on the table. She would glance at them. He would offer her one. She would look into his eyes and flash that lovely smile of hers and thank me. He felt like offering her the whole packet. In the same way she would look down into her empty glass. He would offer her another drink. "Yes please, but I'll wait until you're ready" she said, again giving me that smile. He gulped down my drink. "Would you like a double?" "No thanks" she replied.

We must have spent hours in that pub. Eventually he got round to saying how much he liked her eyes. She just smiled and replied "Yes I know. They're my speciality." Eventually she decided that it was time to go, and asked him to take her home. She invited him in for coffee. He agreed. She motioned with him inside with a wave of her hand, and then turned her hand towards her sofa. He sat down there. She thought how she didn’t even need to speak to get him to do what she wanted.

She put on some romantic music, a CD by the Travelling Wilburys. They had an album with songs such as "I drove all night, just to be with you" and "Anything you want - you got it." Most of the tracks were like that, about a male singer being hopelessly in love with a female. It was almost as if the music was telling him, "This is how you should feel about her."

“I’d better serve decaffeinated coffee” she said. “I don’t want anything stopping me from getting my beauty sleep – and I don’t want you kept awake either for that matter.” The truth was she didn’t want anything waking him up right now. After getting the coffee, she kneeled on the sofa so that she was again able to look down at him. “You have got lovely hair you know” she said starting to stroke it. His head moved towards her so that she could stroke it easier. “You poor boy, you are so tired, after all we have done this evening. You are so, so very sleepy. If you want close your eyes. It is alright. Just close your eyes for a few moments and listen to me. Listen very carefully. I can tell how you are attracted to me. In fact you are falling in love with me. You will soon be madly in love with me. You will be so completely in love with me, that you will do anything – absolutely anything to make me happy. Every time you make me happy it will make you very happy. You will be so happy, just pleasing me and being with me. Soon it will be time for me to go back to my parents to pick up my baby, and time for you to wake up, go home and get a good night’s sleep, ready for work tomorrow. You will dream of me all night and think of me all day, and you will phone me after work tomorrow. You understand?”

He grunted in agreement. “Good boy”. She then woke him up, and he obeyed instantly. He found himself back at her house the following night. They started to kiss and cuddle on the sofa. Again she could almost control him with her eyes. She would look into his eyes, then if she glanced down at my lips he learned that she wanted a kiss, and he would move my head into position. Or she would glance upwards at his hair. He learned that was her signal she was about to stroke my hair, and he would move into position.

When we were like that he felt completely relaxed, completely under her control. He felt that she could ask him to do almost anything and he would do it. He felt hypnotised by her. He said "You're so hypnotic, your eyes, your voice, your hands." "Am I?" she said, sounding surprised, "Good!" After that she would say once or twice when stroking my hair "I'm hypnotising you."

Soon they were making love – in his case it was the first time he had ever made love, and it was wonderful. His dad very much disapproved of the relationship until…. Well that is really another story. Once she had him on her side too it was plain sailing and they married the following year. The gossips in the village were unkind. “I don’t know why a bright young man like that is marrying her. I really don’t know what he sees in her. I mean, he is an Oxford graduate, she is just a village girl.

But what did they know?

 

 

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