I rolled her over on her back. I tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. "No, no kissing," she said. I shrugged. If she didn't want to kiss, that was fine with me.
I'd met her at the hotel bar, where she had just started working. Her name was Liz and she screwed up my order three times. "How hard is it to remember a double scotch?" I teased. I flirted with her all night. She had a high, infectious laugh that rang in the room like the sound of bells. When the bar closed for the evening, she followed me back to my room.
At first she sat on the bed and talked about her father while I poured myself a drink. Given the difference in our ages, it didn't take a genius to imagine she saw me as some sort of father figure. But
her
neuroses were none of
my
concern. I gulped down my scotch and tried not to think about it too much.
I got her blouse off. Her bra was white and mostly transparent. Her nipples were as big around as silver dollars, and they formed dark circles under the lacy fabric. I tried to reach around her back and unhook her bra.
But she suddenly twisted away and bounced out of reach. She sat up on the edge of the bed with her back towards me.
I pulled myself next to her. "What's wrong?" I said.
She sighed deeply. "I should go."
I ran my finger down the ridge of her backbone. "No, don't go. Stay here with me tonight." I prodded the clasp of her bra with my fingertip. It had a double hook - it would be a simple task to unfasten it.
"I can't." She reached down and picked her blouse up off the floor.
"Why not?"
"It's my husband. He is supposed to call."
I sat up beside her. She turned her head slightly away and wouldn't look at me. I bumped my bare shoulder against hers. My erection tented my slacks.
"Why don't you call him tomorrow?" I took her hand and put it in my lap. Her fingers tightened around my prick, and she finally looked at me and smiled slyly.
But her smile quickly faded. "Didn't I tell you?" she said. "My little brother died last month. He committed suicide. He was only twenty-three."
She buried her face in my neck, and I knew why she had laughed so much earlier in the evening. Tears trickled down my chest, and I stroked her long hair. * * *
The next night I went back to the hotel bar, and Liz was there again. Her smile beamed as soon as I walked in the door.
"Hello!" she said. "I was hoping you'd come back!"
She had the night off, but she had come to the bar anyway hoping to find me again. We stayed for a couple hours, and I bought her four drinks. She was happy and smiling and laughed at all my jokes. As the evening wore on, she kept stroking my forearms as if she couldn't keep her hands off me.
She was a little tipsy. I decided I'd try again to get her, and again she agreed to come back to my room. I bought a bottle from the bartender and we skittered up the elevator like a couple of guilty school kids.
She still wouldn't kiss me, but this time I got her bra off. Her breasts were large and soft, and those big nipples squeezed up tightly when I sucked them.
I tried to pull her panties down, but she grabbed my wrist. "No," she said.
"No?" I said, a whine creeping into my voice.
"No. I'm sorry."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I felt playful and didn't want it to end. "I'll tell you what. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
She scrunched up her face. "Ah. So that's how it's supposed to work?"
But I wouldn't be so easily deterred. I yanked my shorts down and dropped them over the side of the bed. I took her hands and wrapped them around my straining cock. "Feel what you do to me?"
"Hmm," she smiled, and her hands moved almost imperceptibly on my penis. "But I'm still not going to fuck you."
"No?" I was repeating myself, and I was annoyed at myself for not being able to think of anything new to say.
"No."
I couldn't figure her out. I got up off the bed, my hard-on waving stiffly. She rolled over on her belly, her tan panties stretched tight over her ass. She turned her head towards the window. She had a dreamy, far-away look in her eye.
I found a tumbler and filled it with scotch. I took a deep swallow and nearly gagged, but I forced it down. And then I took another swallow. I refilled my glass.
For just an instant, I thought about what my wife might be doing at home. Probably doing mundane household chores, like ironing clothes. While watching TV. Not that it made much difference what my wife was doing.
"Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow?" Liz said into the pillow. I barely heard what she said.
"What about your husband?"
She rolled over on her back, and she looked at me through her lashes. Her large breasts formed two beautifully soft pillows on her chest. "He left a message on the machine yesterday. They are keeping him until late next week." She paused and looked at me expectantly. She was a very pretty girl. "So what do you say?"
I watched with an increasing desire as her fingers tickled absently over her tummy. I could feel some of the old fire beginning to flare in my veins.
If I were smart, I would forget her and move on. But she had touched something in me that reminded me of my younger years. It reminded me of when I was first married, when I was sure I could still triumph over the world.
"Sure," I said, "I'd be glad to."
* * *
I arrived at Liz's house at five o'clock sharp. She stood on her porch and waved as I pulled into the driveway.
She gave me a quick tour through the house. It wasn't much of a house, really. And compared to my wife, Liz wasn't much of a housekeeper. "This is the kitchen," she said. Loose photographs littered the counter like unraked leaves. The pictures were all of various people, friends and family, I presumed. I looked through a few. Liz herself was only in one, a group shot of four people standing together in the bright sun. She was on the right, brightly radiant. The old couple, her mother and father, stood closely together in the middle. And the teenage boy, who stood slightly away from the other three, his hands thrust in his pockets.
"That's Eddie," she pointed, "and those are my mom and dad."
It was hard to relate Liz to this family. I looked at her mother's eyes, but they were cast in shadows and didn't reveal a thing. And Eddie's somber face was a complete contrast to Liz's ebullience. I had to look closely to see any familial resemblance at all - perhaps a similarity in the slope of the nose, or maybe the chin.
She showed me a few other nondescript rooms and then led me down a narrow hallway. "And this," she said as she threw open a door with a flourish, "is the bedroom."
The bed was unmade and the room smelled faintly of a pine disinfectant. She sat on the bed and faced me and threw her arms apart. "Are you coming?" she said, smiling widely.
We rolled together on the bed. This time she let me kiss her, and her hands were all over me. Our shoes thumped to the floor, and we quickly whipped off our shirts. Her breasts felt exhilarating against my bare chest.
I pulled my underwear down and my erection sprung free. She stared intently at my penis and licked her lips. And then she looked me in the eye. "Do you have a condom?" she asked.
