She was a hard person to track down. But, that’s what happened in my world. I found passionate people who did their own thing. Treasures. I hunted for treasure.
She had finally agreed to meet me. “I won’t flake this time,” she said. I believed her.
I was late. I rushed from the shower, dressed quickly, pulled a hat over my wet hair, slipped on shoes, then stopped to look in the mirror. My hat said HUSTLER across the front in bright red letters. I thought about changing it, then “Fuck it” and I was out the door.
She was waiting there, alone. She had long naturally curly hair, tight brown curls, cascading out playfully. Her jean shorts were short, and her smooth legs reached out, long and healthy.
She had a fixed gaze, eyes not wavering from mine. I liked that. She spoke in an assured way. We talked of growing up, goals, family. Within a few minutes, we were comfortable. The pints helped.
Hours passed, then I said. “Let’s go to my place. We can walk.”
“I need to grab by bike first,” I said.
She stood with me as I unlocked my bike. She raised an eyebrow.
“You lock your bike with hand cuffs,” she said. It was a statement more than a question.
“Oh yea,” I replied. “You never know when you might need to make a citizen’s arrest.”
At my house, I kissed her. She didn’t react. Later, she did. I pulled her shorts off. They were tight, but I enjoyed the task. I carefully edged them around her hips and down her legs.
I lay on her and we shared a long kiss. I pulled up and looked into her eyes and said slowly, “I’m gonna eat up all of you.”
She gave a sheepish look, “Well, you don’t need to do *all* of me.”
I laughed, which made her laugh. “Ok,” I said, and sat up.
“I didn’t intend for this,” she said. I nodded, “That’s fine.”
She remained laying there, and I sat at the edge of the bed. “I guess I should find my clothes,” she said.
She gave a long sigh, still laying on her back. She brought her legs up, knees together, then extended her feet into the air, holding onto the backs of her knees.
She presented herself from this position. “You can kiss it,” she said.
I spent a minute there, and then we allowed ourselves the pleasures that we wanted. Then we rested in the dark and talked. We talked of past relationships. She had boyfriend she could not let go of. She looked up at me, laying on her back as I sat and listened.
“He’s dating this twenty-something,” she said. “He told me, ‘I think I’m going to marry this girl’ He even introduced his son to her. He never did that for me.”
I saw a tear slip down and towards her ear. I gave a sad smile.
“It’s hard letting go,” I said.
She left in the morning. I walked her back to her car. I wanted to unravel her, I wanted to see what made her drive so hard for her business, and for someone who wanted to marry another.
But I never saw her again.
Photo credit: @jessmilewski