My depression started at roughly the same time that my loving wife, who shall be henceforth known as the bitch, transferred her affection to another man. The fact that it wasn't from me to another man but from the previous other man to the new other man that was the final straw. She said that it all started was because I couldn't get it up anymore, this could have been because I had found out that she had been having it off with the first (I think) previous other man. My friends asked me why I hadn't kicked her out years ago when she first started spreading it around. I tried to rationalise it and the best that I could come up with was to say that I was scared, scared that I would never be able to attract another woman. Eventually I got up the guts to confront her. "Look, you're going to have to choose between me and Tom or Dick or Harry or whoever it is that you're fucking now because I'm finished with being here to pick up the pieces when you get dumped and making do with the unsatisfactory sex that you think will keep me interested. So who is it to be?"
This brings me to the here and now, the here is I am sitting in a bar, a glass of beer in my hand, the now is some two years after the bitch made her choice and I'm looking at the only other person in here, a woman who in better times would have been called attractive but her eyes let her down tonight. It wasn't just the mascara that had run down her cheeks that detracted from her looks it was the eyes, limpid brown pools surrounded by red rims, she had been crying.
Our eyes met for a brief moment before she looked away giving me the opportunity to take a closer look at her. I put her age at around forty but don't quote me on that because I was never good at guessing women's ages. Her dark hair sat in untidy curls around her face and it had that dull look about it that told of lack of recent care. She wore no makeup, apart from the runny mascara and a pale pink lip gloss, so I could see the lines on her face quite clearly.
She stood up and walked towards me, heading for the powder room and as she neared me her bag opened depositing some of its contents on the floor. When she bent to pick her things up I was treated to a quite spectacular tit flash, her blouse hung open and a lace supported breast was revealed to me. It got even better when I bent to pick up her wayward compact that had rolled toward me and ended up against my foot. It took a long time for me to straighten up and my eyes to meet hers. I handed the compact to her. "Thank you." She took it from me and in the process our fingers touched. She headed for the ladies.
While she was doing whatever it was that women do in those places, I had time to collect my thoughts. Her face set her age at around forty but her breast reduced that quite considerably, the lace held it in place easily and I saw the tip of her nipple poking darkly through a hole. I was still reliving the moment when she emerged, her mascara now removed making her face look so much younger and better. As she walked past I touched her arm. "Would you care to join me?" she looked at me for a moment or two as if to work out if she would be safe with me before deciding to join me.
I was the first to break the ice. "I'm Peter." I held out my hand for her to shake, she gave the impression that she wasn't interested in me or my hand but shook it nonetheless. "I couldn't help noticing that you're a little upset, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want, but if you do, feel free to tell me what's bothering you."
"I'm Celeste, I don't want to burden you with my problems you look as if you've got enough of your own." There was nothing particularly celestial about this woman that I could see.
"Mine are old news, the aftermath of which is taking some getting used to, but yours are more recent and could probably do with a second opinion."
"If you must know my husband has kicked me out after fifteen years of marriage, he says it's because he wants children and I'm unable to have any."
"I'm sorry to hear that, you must be devastated. I suppose that you suggested adoption?"
"Yes, he says that he doesn't want to raise someone else's child, the same goes for surrogacy, he doesn't want a child that has come from someone else's womb, so here I am wondering what the hell to do with the rest of my life."
"Surely he's made some provision for you, he can't just throw you out with nothing."
"He did and he's told me that if I challenge him in court he will get the best divorce lawyer to crucify me."
"Have you done anything that he can use against you?"
"He thinks that I have. While he was away on business one of his colleagues came to see me and during the course of the evening he made a pass at me. I rejected him of course, and a well-placed kick eventually turned him off, so he told Wayne that we'd had sex. There was hell to pay and he still thinks that I'm lying to him. It was my word against his mate's and he's chosen his mate's."
"That doesn't seem fair."
"Tell me about it, but then is anything fair in this world?"
"Seemingly not for good guys like us, it certainly hasn't been fair for me until now." She looked at me trying to work out if I was coming on to her or not. "Maybe we can change all that, what are you going to do tonight?"
"I don't know, all I know is that I have nowhere to stay."
"Where have you been staying?"
"I've spent the last few nights in a homeless shelter but the guys there keep hitting on me."
"Haven't you any friends?"
"No, all of our friends don't want to know me because they were all his friends and don't want to take sides against him."
"You could stay in a hotel."
"Sure I could if I had money. He has cut me off from his credit cards and our joint account and I never had any funny money of my own, I'm without a cent in the world."
I began to get an uneasy feeling about her, one where I saw her as frequenting hotel rooms that were rented by the hour. What the hell, I needed sex and a suitably accommodating professional lady mightn't be so bad. "What if I pay for your room for tonight and in the morning I'll see what I can do to help you out?"
"I couldn't accept that, I'm not that kind of lady."
"What kind?"
"You think that I'm a whore don't you? You think that I'm the type of woman that would give herself to a man for the price of a room for the night."
Had I been wrong about her, had I misread the signs? "I don't think that at all, I was just trying to help a damsel in distress, no strings attached." Who was I trying to kid? In my present state of mind I would jump her bones at the slightest encouragement. I tried to read her mind from her expression as she thought about my offer; did she think that it was genuine, and that I was that naive that she could take me for more than she had planned, or was she actually a desperate person who genuinely didn't want to get involved with me or any other man right now? Or was it that I'd tarred her with the same brush as the bitch?
"Alright I'll let you get me a room for the night but at the first sign of any funny business I'll leave." I got up to leave and as she got to her feet I noticed that all she carried was her bag with the dodgy clasp. "Is that all you have in this world?"
"The rest of my stuff is in a locker at the bus station, not that there's much." There was a small but comfortable looking hotel just down the block and we headed for that. The guy behind the reception desk looked up from his newspaper, a knowing look on his face.
"This lady would like a room for the night, can you help her?"
"Sure thing, is it just the lady?"
