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It was just after 1:00 in the morning. Their friends had left. It had been an awkward night. He and Debra had one of their fights that wasn’t a fight and Tori and David hadn’t said more than two words to each other. After they had left, Debra had taken him to bed. It was angry sex. It was good, but he always came away from angry sex with a combination of satisfaction and disgust. She was drunk enough on wine to pass out. She would be hung over in the morning and still angry with him. Luckily, she wasn’t the type of person to fight it out. She would punish him with dirty looks and cold shoulders for about three days and then stick the argument into the vault with all of their past conflicts to be pulled out and used against him when he least expected it.
It was not a good marriage but it was the one he had. They were about to celebrate their twentieth anniversary. It was a little late now to do much about it.
He was smoking the end of the pack of cigarettes Tori and left on the patio table and reading the news on his phone when the notification flashed across the top. Her contact information was so old and unused he had never updated the misspelling. It said the message was from Toni.
“You guys okay?”
“Sure. Just a normal Saturday night. You?”
“Fine. I guess.” She said back.
“I’m smoking your cigarettes.”
“Fucker! I’m out now buying some.”
“Where?”
“The store. Why?”
“Which store?”
“The convenience store.”
“On Park?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you smoking one before you leave?”
“I can.”
“Do that.”
He took his son’s truck so he didn’t have to open the garage. It was less than a mile. He hadn’t even put on shoes. He saw the tall thin brunette standing off to the side beneath a tree. He pulled in and parked the little pickup beside her fancy Japanese sedan.
“What are you doing?” She asked when he got out. He didn’t say a word. He walked to her. Callouses on his feet were enough to insulate him from the rough asphalt. She was ataşehir escort bayan in a striped pair of men’s boxers and a tank top that clung to her smallish breasts. He was on her before she could say anything further.
It was a bold, daring, stupid, and unsolicited move. With his hand placed gently on her cheek and his thumb pressed along her jawline he kissed her. She moved her free hand to his arm and gripped him. She extended her other arm and the long wisp of smoke streamed upward through the still night air.
She kissed him back.
She moaned and pressed her hips against him as his hand found her breast.
When finally he released her and stepped back to catch his breath she said nothing. She stood there, her weight mostly on one leg as she thrust her hip out to the side. It was a model’s pose. She took a last drag from the cigarette that had nearly burned out and pressed it out on the ground beneath a rubber flip-flop. She stared at him.
“Sorry.” He said. “I should go.” He stepped backwards and his foot found a single small stone. He turned to walk back to the pick-up.
“Wait,” she said. The look in her eyes was painful with sadness. She scanned about her. It was a dark night. A single yellow bulb cast a cone of light on a back door. The fluorescents inside beamed out the front of the store onto the pumps and a single yellow Honda that had to belong to whatever poor person was keeping watch over the store in the early morning quiet. The side of the store nearest them was lost in blackness with only a white wire cage holding those tanks you get for your backyard grill. “Come,” she said.
Hidden by darkness and the wire cage they kissed and groped like teenagers. It was insanity and the thrill of it intensified the moment. He moved his hands over her ass and back. Hers slipped first beneath his shirt and then, when unable to move inside the waist of his shorts made fast work of his belt and fly until she gripped his swollen cock.
In response he slid his fingers escort kadıköy to her tits and firmly took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. After years of revealing secrets while drunk at an evening happy hour or while draining wine bottles on one of their patios until late into the night he knew just enough of her weaknesses to be dangerous. She moaned at the sharp sensation and tugged at his cock with equal indelicacy.
He had no ass and his shorts fell to the concrete at their feet. The strength of her grasp tugged uncomfortably at his dick. He didn’t want to release her nipples but her pants had to come off. He was quick about it and they folded together. Her ass was pressed against the corner of the rack when he entered her.
Her long thin legs wrapped about his waist. He gripped her by the small of the back with one hand and the back of her neck with the other.
They kissed as they fucked, the only sound the slapping of his hips at her thighs and their sudden desperate gasps for air.
Her body shook with her orgasm. It never came that quickly and it seldom if ever came simply from penetration and she moaned as the sensation rose up her back in waves.
“Come. Come in me.” she whispered. As punctuation, she bit his ear hard. The vulgarity of her words was all he needed to push him over the edge. He sucked at the night air as his cock pulsed inside of her.
“I have to go,” she said suddenly. Her voice struck out loudly in the still morning. He moved to kiss her again. “Stop!” she insisted. She pushed at his chest and he stumbled backwards naked from the waist down, his dick still dripping the mixture of his and her cum. She had already recovered her small shorts when he had regained his balance and by the time he had his shorts back on she was inside of her car.
He didn’t run for her but he walked briskly. It wasn’t enough. The tires of her powerful car chirped as she darted for home. Inside the store he bought a pack of cigarettes for the first time in five years bostancı escort and a soda. He added a candy bar at the counter. He never ate candy. He didn’t really care for sugar but what the fuck. Back in the darkness he lit one of his smokes and was staring up at the smattering of stars when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Sorry. I got scared,” she had sent him.
A second text from his wife admonished him to smoke them before he came home, not to bring them back into the house, and referred to him as an asshole. Accepting that she was right, that he was an asshole, he stuck the phone back into his pocket without replying to either of them.
When it buzzed again he tried not to look but it kept buzzing until he relented.
“Hey.”
“Are you mad?”
“I’m sorry I ran off.”
“Text me.”
“You aren’t dead are you?”
“Look. I need to get inside to bed but I can’t until you tell me you are okay.”
“Damnit. Please! Martin, don’t be a dick.”
“You aren’t a dick. Sorry.”
He had to respond.
“T, I’m fine. I get it. You don’t have to be sorry. Go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.”
“You aren’t mad?” she responded co-dependently.
“Kind of the opposite actually.”
“Yeah? Me too. I forget what the opposite of being mad and cranky and lonely and sad is. It’s been a while.”
“Go to bed,” he told her thinking the very same thing.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
He drove home, hid the cigarettes in the guest bathroom, washed his face and rinsed his mouth out as if he could hide the smell and went to bed. He laid on his stomach thinking rapidly in a vague incoherent way. It only took a few minutes for his wife to get out of the bed. She moved to the couch. If he asked her she would say he snored but he knew better. Often she moved before he had even gone to sleep.
He let his mind drift to his wife’s friend and what had happened and what might happen. The sex, quick and spontaneous had been messy. He couldn’t help but think messy was the right word for it. As he imagined what happened next, talking to her in the morning, arranging to meet for drinks, doing his best to seduce her again he couldn’t help but think that was the word for it. It was messy. He anticipated it only getting messier.
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