Struck by lightning,
dying from sensory overload and lack of a lover. Ahhh — the release of tension.
I flop on the sofa. Exhausted.
Someone knocks on the
door. Calls out, ‘Hi . . . Lou? Are you awake?’ O God – it’s . . . It’s
Tiffany!
Damn! Here I am, just
come all over the place, dildo lying on the floor, stuff everywhere, exotic
pictures on the computer, a picture of debauchery and I’m ashamed of my secret
lusts. Again. Shit! I scramble to my feet. Shout, ‘Just a minute!’ and shove
the dildo under the sofa. Shut down the browser on the computer, pull my
dressing gown around me, tie the belt tight – I don’t want to offend her, have
her think I was being unfaithful to her. And sort of pulled together although
wet, sweaty, oily and tousled, I open the door. Tiff’s standing there, leaning
against the security door looking tired and sad.
‘Long time no see.’ I
grin at her and hug her. ‘Didn’t you say you and Sam were going out tonight?’
‘Yees . . . ’ she says
sort of sheepishly, sadly too, coming in and shutting the door. ‘I just felt I
had to see you, Lou. I’ve got some news.’ Tiffany walked quickly across the
living room and back again. Finally she looked me in the eye and said, ‘Sam’s
gone off with another lover.’
‘What?’ I’m
incredulous. ‘How come?’
Tiffany explained
about what happened at the nightclub and afterwards. ‘I went home but it was
too lonely. I keep thinking of her fucking that blonde bitch and I’m just so
jealous!’ I smile at her and hug her. I hope she can stand the smell of me. She
smells gorgeous, always wears some lovely Oriental perfume, maybe it’s her deodorant?
I haven’t asked what it is. Could it be the natural odour of her skin . . .? I
begin to get wet again thinking of her skin.
‘Tiffany, how can you
be jealous when you admit you were thinking of me all the time? It was probably
instinct that led Sam to wander away and find someone else.’
‘Oh – I dunno!’
Tiffany cries, grabbing a tissue and mopping her eyes. ‘I'm jealous! I’ve put
up with Sam’s butch jealousy and possessiveness for years. I thought I’d have a
fight when you and I eventually brought our relationship out in to the open and
now this happens.’
As I make us some coffee I gaze at her lovely face.
Those soft lips, the way her neck curves as the light outlines her. The way her long dark curly russet hair lies around her face and shoulders. I want you, I love you Tiffany, I tell myself. Now’s not the time to tell her though. I look Tiffany in the eyes. She looks right back at me. I look down. My face flushes all over and down to my breasts. God. I want her.
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