“She doesn’t want me to see our child anymore, she brainwashes him”

First day

It’s been a year since my ex left me. We spent ten years together, it was my first gay story, before I was straight. I am then fallow, I do not really want to meet someone. I often go to Pulp, a lesbian nightclub on the Grands Boulevards in Paris. It is a smoky place, but above all a space of freedom and protection for the girls, a cocoon for the castaways of love. Jennifer Cardini mixes there, and we don’t really like mixed evenings, because the boys often come to watch us.

The Pulp is also an online forum. We spend hours between us chatting and messing around on the Internet, we are a great bunch of lesbian girlfriends. We exchange, we support each other and, above all, we laugh a lot. One of my friends from the forum is absolutely keen to introduce me to one of the members, promising me that we would like each other. I don’t really want to, I even wonder if I’m not going to get back together with a guy.

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She insists, and organizes a trap in a bar. I hesitate to go, and then I decide to trust this smart, hard-hitting friend who mustn’t do this for no reason. She knows that I am quite feminine, heels, nail polish, long hair, and that I don’t really like truckers. I arrive in the cafe, and I sit down in front of Marie, therefore. Marie is very tall, she looks very young. She’s in her twenties, but looks like she’s 16. Luckily, she’s known at Pulp, so the bouncer lets her in, but otherwise, in a club, she is asked for her ID all the time. Marie has a duck voice, she is not very well dressed.

” We meet again. There, I find her super pretty, we discuss. She is independent and free, she has character, she does not speak a lot but she speaks fair. “

We observe each other out of the corner of our eyes without speaking. I am proud and indifferent. She has a gold bangle around her neck, I find it very pretty and sexy. The glass ends. Marie goes with others to McDonald’s, I’m not going, I’m a vegetarian. The next day, our mutual friend calls me to ask me what I thought of Marie. ” So ? “ “She’s too big, too young, drop the matter”, I replied.

But with Marie we continue to talk to each other on the Pulp forum. See you again in another bar, near Bastille. There, I find her super pretty, we discuss a lot. She’s independent and free, she has character, she doesn’t talk a lot, but she just talks. She has to leave, walks over to her scooter, puts her helmet back on and looks at me. I stayed stuck, telling myself that something was going on.

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