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An Afternoon Encounter
An Afternoon Encounter
The door to the room opened, but no one was there. She peaked from behind the door after she’d opened it about halfway and Sam knew it was okay to walk in. He took the folded envelope from is back pocket and casually dropped it on the dresser. She smiled and said “thanks”, but didn’t bother to count the money. The room was simple, but clean and it smelled a little of smoke. She sat on the end of the closer of the two double beds and patted gently on the comforter as a way saying “come sit by me.
Sam sat next to her on the bed and stared straight ahead. He saw his aging reflection in the mirror and turned away. He still couldn’t bear to look at it for too long at a time. She asked him if he was nervous and he lied and said “no”. She asked if it was his first time. This time the answer was yes, but like last time it was a lie. He only turned his head part of the way towards her when he spoke, as if she wouldn’t see. She saw, but she was kinder than some of the others. She didn’t look away of force herself to lock her gaze on his eyes.
She excused herself to the bathroom and told him to “get comfortable”. Sam began to undress and watched her as she walked to the bathroom. She was small and the tight clothes she wore accentuated that fact. She was wearing the new style of low cut jeans and a short t shirt that barely covered her breasts. On the small of her back was a tattoo. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d try to remember to ask later so he’d have something to talk to her about.
In a moment she came out of the bathroom and walked slowly toward the bed. She now wore a silk robe left untied, revealing that she was naked underneath. Sam was still sitting on the end of the bed but naked now and partially erect. She knelt down and took him in her mouth and he closed his eyes. He could feel himself grow and harden inside her. Gently stroking her hair he pretended she was drawing out the poison that left him this way. He could feel the sensation throughout his body and he closed his eyes tighter so he wouldn’t see himself and ruin the moment. His body seized and convulsed and he was finished. She excused herself to the bathroom and he heard her spit. She came back out and they lay together for what seemed like hours, but it was only a few minutes.
She never asked and he was glad. His mother’s friends always asked and he always felt obligated to tell. Why not? It was obvious, but they always wanted the details, the how and the why and the recovery. He preferred to talk about her and her misfortunes, it made him feel better if only for awhile.
They lay naked together and she talked. She talked about her awful boyfriend and her son who acted just like him. She did “this” to make ends meet, but she planned to go back to school and start her own business. He’d heard the story before, seemed they all had something they’d rather be doing.
Sam remembered to ask about the tattoo. She said it was a tribal design. She didn’t know what it meant; she just liked the way it looked. She laughed at that because now she never sees it. Sam forced a laugh. She said her real name was Jill. She said she didn’t tell anybody her real name, but he looked nice. For a moment he smiled a real smile, the first in a long time. It faded quickly as he dismissed the kind words as pity.
Without a word Sam stood up and dressed himself. She asked if he minded if she didn’t show him to the door so she could get in the shower. He wondered why she’d even asked because she’d turned on the shower and was already stepping in. Sam didn’t mind though, he preferred it to the fake goodbyes.
Sam felt a sense of loss. For a moment she was his. She loved him despite his scars, but it was over as quickly as it begun and he was alone again. On the drive home he listened to the radio and wondered what his mother would be cooking for supper.
12/9/2005 8:51 am
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