She has always wanted to quench the heat between her legs. To feel the thrust of raw meat in her bowels. It’s been long since the last touch of a man made her knees buckle. He’s always been in another town. Trying to sort out issues here and there. Work. To get bills paid. Her daily routine, ended up in taking evening walks, with earphones stuck in her ears, listening to her favourite song. A long the way, she’d see couples holding hands in that same park. If only he was here, she’d feel different. He’d sent her a text message, “hey love, I miss you.” This made everything else not to matter. It never really mattered if he was there or not there. During starry nights, he’d phone her, she’d listen to his voice as she’d be drifting off to sleep. It always cut off to, “goodnight, I love you.”
A sweet guy came by. With a corky character, during one of her evening strolls. Pulled her earphones from her ears, and suddenly wanted to listen to the choice of music she loves. Maybe, the choice of music too could determine the type of a guy you’d fall for. I don’t know. He showed interest in her, and paid attention to her. This was a form of distraction she ever needed. Her smiling to an unknown stranger. Laughing out loud than she always does on a phone call. She shied sometimes. And those times he stroked her lashes. “You have beautiful eyes.”. It melted her. So before saying goodbye, he leaned forward and kissed her. She never expected it. She bade him goodbye.
At night, She sent him a text message, “Love, I miss you. When are you coming back?”
“Hey honey, just a month, and I’ll be all yours. I miss you too.”
“Can’t you just make it in a weeks time?”
“I wish I could, my love..”
This time she never replied back. She sunk into loneliness. Just before drifting her lashes, a call came through. It was the guy with the corky character. She picked it up, and felt goosebumps all over her body. They talked. Can’t tell for how long, but those two people talked like they’ve always known each other. I guess that’s how we often feel when we meet new people, the thrill that comes with it. The danger. The excitement.
It took a while. The next time she was meeting him it was in his crib. One thing led to the next. Unexpectedly she quenched her thirst in the end. Back at home, she Showered to remove the stains of disdains. She couldn’t. What’s done was already done. “I never want to see you again!”. She sent the text to the corky boy. Who didn’t even flinch, he got what he wanted anyway.
“Hey love, I’m back.” The text came through. She was excited, but somehow she couldn’t shake off the guilt. She picked him up from town. They passed by the coffee shop. Got some snacks. Storied. How work was. How life was. Holding hands. They got back to the house. He kissed her. She kissed him. On bed he took her. Unhooked her bra. She unzipped her trouser. The heat made his pintle bulge heroically like a sword hoisted up in victory. He pulled off her pants, she kicked them off majestically.
“Wait…. stop… stop…” She barred him.
“What’s wrong love?”
“There’s something I should tell you….”
She felt unclean so she had to come clean. She told him. His pintle shrunk. Dejected, he was lost in myriad of thoughts with nothing much to say. For at that moment, he knew, that even the best fall down sometimes. She stared at him, and felt the hurt that she caused him. He wondered what ever happened to the girls who loved to wait. What happened to patience.?
As he laid there. What do you think he said? If it were you, what would you have done?
*****
As written by Phill Ibsen
( Master Of Descriptions )
A Heart_Art_Poetics productions
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