On the third try the key finally entered the lock. He gave the familiar pull and twist and the door gave way. The house was quiet, always was this time of night. Lisa had left the entry lamp on for him, and he placed his keys in the tray. After removing his shoes, he walked in his socks down the hallway to the kitchen. Standing in the cold light of the fridge, he drank some orange juice from the container. A hoppy citrus miasma belched up from his gut. The cat glided against his trouser leg, welcoming him home. He looked down in acknowledgment and belched again. He closed the door of the fridge and made his slow, practiced walk down the dark hallway toward the bathroom.
The shower running gave Lisa ambivalent feelings--relief that Pete was home, as well as a concern for where he had been and what he was out doing. The clock read 2:40am. He had been working late at the firm since the county restrictions kept changing so frequently. She knew he was under an enormous amount of stress--with the rising public unrest in response to more rigid social policies he helped to create. When he worked as a trial lawyer, there were pockets of time where he'd be at the firm until the wee hours of the morning. This was usually followed by more time together once the verdict was reached, perhaps even a vacation if she could get the time off. But since he took this new role with the county, work seemed to consume him. Late nights and drinking had become the norm, and she felt she was losing him.
The covers parted and his warm body slid almost silently into bed beside her. He smelled of his oaky sandalwood bodywash. She turned to cuddle up against him and he sighed, extending his arm across the pillow, under her head. She nuzzled into his chest.
"Hey," he said in the darkness. "Sorry...I didn't mean to wake you." He kissed the top of her head.
"Hey," Lisa murmured in response. "Another late night for you..."
"Yeah..."
She stroked his chest with her hand, cuddling up closer to him. She kissed his neck as her hand slid down along his abdomen. "I've missed you," she whispered, her lips pulling at his earlobe, her fingertips walking down his happy trail.
"Baby, it's been a long day," he started.
"I can make it better," she whispered, licking softly at his neck. She kissed along his chest and abdomen and slid under the covers.
"Lisa..." he said, then sighed as she took him into her mouth. He pulled the sheets back gently, watching her head move in the darkness, unable to see her eyes. The sound of her lips softly sucking on his shaft made him close his eyes. He felt himself hardening in her mouth, her warm tongue gliding along his cock. He closed his eyes in his drunken haze and the room began to spin. His mind immediately flashed to the image of the blonde legal clerk he had interviewed this afternoon, and gotten to know better over dinner and drinks. And again after the drinks. Before he knew it his cock had exploded.
Lisa gurgled, coughing softly. "Fuck, Pete. You could have warned me."
"Sorry, baby. I just..."
"It's always about you," she said, moving to lie facing away from him. He didn't respond, and his low snoring soon filled the room.
Lisa sat at the kitchen table holding her warm mug of coffee in her hands. She looked out the window at the hummingbirds feasting on the salvia in the dawn light. Going from one to the next so suddenly, spending only so much time with each flower. It almost seemed choreographed. She heard a ping on the phone and got up to check, realizing the sound had come from Pete's phone. She stopped, leaning against the counter and biting her lower lip, an anxious feeling in her belly. Lisa smiled to herself, shaking her head. She rinsed out her mug and placed it in the dish drainer. Running shoes donned, she grabbed her keys off the entry table and closed the door carefully behind her as not to wake him.
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I began to almost panic after that second time. Not because of the risk of the act, but the fear that it wouldn't happen again. I had no way of contacting her, as the phones and all electronic communication were monitored. There was no verbal rendezvous point after our last time together. Was that it? It couldn't be. I began to walk the area in my neighborhood more extensively--widening my radius in looking for that silver Civic. My body craved more of that whirlwind of intimacy I had experienced with her--even in that parked car. Who was she? What did she do for work? What were her hobbies? These were things my feminine mind pondered while my libido surged forward with its demands and dismissal of such cerebral details. I could feel a growing sensitivity and wetness between my legs.
The clock read 5:40pm. Work was technically done. I turned off my monitor and walked to my bedroom. I stripped and got into bed, my mind replaying the events of the other night as my fingers teased and tugged at my nipples, my wetness growing further. I closed my eyes and licked my lips, recalling the feel of her hard nipples between my lips, of how her lips had felt on mine. Of the feel of her wet pussylips in my mouth, and her hungry mouth suckling mine. The thrusting of my two fingers inside myself kept flipping the switch of images of us enjoying one another. Outside of dating, outside of convention. To stave off utter loneliness in a rapidly changing world. My heart thumped against my chest as I came, opening my eyes to a bright white ceiling and looking out the window at the endless evening before me. I would try again to find her.
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Lisa sat tapping her pencil absentmindedly against the tabletop as the Captain spoke at the podium. The board at the front contained recent statistics and locations of arrests made within different categories: larceny, assault and battery, breaking and entering, and lewd acts in public. This last category was often met with a few chuckles, as it was becoming more frequent that people were being arrested for sexual acts in public spaces. Gay men in particular were found frequenting outdoor spaces for sex.
