Him. Cecilia Scott
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met HIM at the door with a towel wrapped around me.
There was no ‘hello’, no ‘How are you?’s. He grabbed the towel, yanked it off me and pulled me against his body. His kisses came hard and fast. Without stopping, he led me to the sofa and bent me over it. Then in one quick move he unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop. Once he entered me, he showed me no mercy. He fucked me hard, doggy-style. And then he came deep, deep inside me.
We fell onto the couch, our bodies intertwined. After a while we repositioned our bodies and faced one another. He whispered into my ear, ‘Hey.’
‘Hey back.’
‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll move you down to live closer to me as soon as I can,’ he said earnestly.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll take care of you. You can write full-time.’
‘I want that so much.’
He began touching me again. ‘Our bodies are perfect together,’ he said. ‘Your breasts are so round and full.’
‘I know.’ I was mesmerised by his desire for me.
‘Oh, my God, please,’ I said. ‘Please. Please make love to my tits. They’re yours. Yours. Oh, please. Please.’
And then he was kissing them, sucking them. ‘Oh, my God,’ he cried. ‘I have to fuck you again.’
This time we faced each other while lying on our sides. He stared into my eyes. Then he kissed me so passionately I could barely breathe, and slipped himself into my pussy. He didn’t stop kissing me. Our mouths remained locked until his breath became more irregular as his climax travelled through his body. He moaned into my mouth as he came.
We lay there, both spent.
And then it was my turn. I still needed more, needed to let HIM know how much I loved his cock. It was so beautiful. It gave me such pleasure. If he could only know what it felt like to see HIM walking toward me with his cock erect and eager to be inside me. If he only knew how much I thought about his cock when we were not together.
I hovered over HIM. Time was suspended as I made sweet love to his cock, first kissing the head of it, small little kisses. Then I brought it into my mouth and circled my tongue around it. He began to move, pushing his cock further inside my mouth. I gasped. I moved my position so I could lick his balls, taking one ball into my mouth, then the other. I brought my tongue back up and over the shaft. And then he gently pulled me up into a sitting position. He stood up, holding his cock with his hand, and began masturbating. I sat transfixed by HIM. I could see that he was about to climax; his body went rigid and he emitted a low moan. I opened my mouth and swallowed his come. Then we collapsed together on the couch and held on to each other. We fell asleep wrapped in one another.
He left in the middle of the night. I didn’t wake up.
Best friends and abandoned cats …
To love is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
Emily Dickinson
This is what I understood: I’d been unhappy for a very long time. I lived such a sheltered life and I had little curiosity. I lived vicariously through the books I read. I identified with the Bronte sisters and Emily Dickinson. I lived away from society. I was lost. I had travelled down an abandoned road.
* * *
I called in sick the following morning. Then I phoned Rebecca and asked her to meet me for lunch at our favourite café.
The place was bristling with activity, and the outdoor tables were mostly filled. I found an empty table in the back near the bookstore. The bougainvillea was bountiful. I could hear the mumbled sound of other people’s conversations. Eventually, a very pregnant Rebecca walked towards me. She too was in full bloom, now close to her due date.
I envied her. She was happy. Pure and simple.
She bent over me and kissed me on the forehead. I in turn kissed her pregnant belly. We were beaming. She sat down.
We picked up our menus, decided on salad, and the waitress took our order. Then Rebecca looked at me with an odd smile on her face.
Old friends can always tell. Or at least she could.
‘Who is he?’ she asked.
‘Who is who?’
‘Come on. You have that freshly fucked look on your face. Your movements are so languid. It can only mean one thing. Who is he?’
I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her anything. I was afraid I would jinx everything. He was my secret. Sure, Sam had seen HIM come and go from the duplex but I hadn’t said anything to anyone.
What was there to say anyway? That I was having the most intense sexual experience of my life with a man I barely knew?
I felt exposed.
I told her the basics – how handsome he was, his accomplishments. But I stopped after that and asked her about her pregnancy. When she spoke, I pretended to listen.
I could only think about HIM. I hadn’t bathed after he left, wanting to retain his scent and the feel of HIM against my body for as long as possible. I could still feel his come inside me. I am sure my mouth must have seemed bruised from so much kissing and I had a string of love bites across my breasts. Every part of my body felt swollen, so loved, so attended to.
My best friend continued to talk. We sat together for a long time.
* * *
When I arrived home I saw a white cat with long hair and blue eyes sitting on the stoop and staring at me.
I picked it up and held it. The cat began to purr. I knocked on Sam’s door. When he opened it, he laughed heartily. ‘Oh, my, what do we have here?’
I handed him the cat. ‘Boy or girl?’
He turned it upside down. ‘It’s a girl.’ He paused and said, ‘I think.’
We walked into Sam’s duplex. He handed the cat back to me as I sat on the couch.
‘No collar, huh?’
I shook my head. ‘No. Nothing.’
‘She’s a pretty one.’
‘Yes.’
‘She’s deaf.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Most white-haired female cats with blue eyes are deaf.’
‘Wow. What an interesting piece of information to have stored in your head. Prove it.’
He went back into his kitchen and brought out several pots and pans. He banged them together. The cat didn’t flinch.
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘She didn’t hear it. But I did. Ouch.’
‘I was pretty sure I was right,’ he said. ‘So what are you going to do with her?’
‘Hmm. I didn’t think parenthood would happen like this,’ I said. ‘I guess I’ll put some signs up and then, if no one responds, I’ll keep her.’
‘What are you going to call her?’
I thought for a moment. ‘Esme.’
‘Interesting name.’
‘She was a character in a Salinger short story.