Photo by Paulo Felipe Assis on Unsplash
She opened fer front door. Purple. One of my favorite colors. Honestly, the surrounding yellow walls put me eyes off. Honestly, the yellow didn’t really matter. I was locked on the purpleness of the door , and the cool air that came rushing out as it opened., as she, beautiful, with flowers in her long dark brown curly hair, stepped aside, saying “Come In”, with ease, not betraying what the next 4 hours had in hold for us.
As II entered, the first thing I noticed (beside the cool air) was the tasteful, but eclectic art collection - from paintings, sculptures, clay work, placed thoughtfully around the big room. The couch looked lived on, but comfortable. Shelves of books - everything from James Baldwin and Audre Lorde and the like to the classics, to the new classics. From poetry, both old and new, to gender/sexuality theory books, her collection was enough for me. I caught some Anne Rice on a shelf, and that was all I needed. This room was enough to make me sure. Our stars were aligning. Once I saw the art books and books about contemporary artists put it over the edge for me. ravens perched on a piece of wood on one shelf, a bust of a mythical woman so beautiful on another shelf. As if that wasn’t enough, the were enough plants to make you think you were in an arboretum ( and that is not a bad thing at all, to me.) Okay, not trees per say, but so tasteful. and lush with life.
Dark Lavender colored walls, nice darker green trim, complementing the walls nicely, giving a welcoming aura. I was thirsty, land asked her for some water. “Sure”, she said, and led me into the kitchen. the only thing too. I could think ,was that we were getting closer to that purple back door, slightly ajar. I am sure her mind was as clouded as mine. When we were in the kitchen, she reached in to refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Evian. Cold. Unopened. “Is this okay?” “Yes. It’s perfect. YOU are perfect”! She almost blushed, but steadied her face..
We both knew what we, and I, specifically, signed up for by my making the two hour ride by train. I had gone over many, varied way this could play out: the minute we get to her place, all inhibitions down, desire taking over. Everything electric. Other permutations that I won’t go into in any depth. We, maybe one. That remains to be seen.
Standing in the kitchen, she said with an easy laugh “Someone should say something”, switching her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly becoming serious. “You know what we are going to do, and you consent? We were always checking consent. We both understand that you have a whole partner, a wife, that you have been faithfullly married to for years, and you have said nothing about me to her.” “She knows about you”/ I interject, seeing the remembrance of conversations past, where I told her about the rather intense conversations we have had. She remembered that I told her where she lived and that I would go visit one day. We both remember that. At that point, everything was far more innocent. I agreed, “ Yes , I know why I am here and I know that I will most likely cheat on my partner, on my wife…with you.” A look of understanding crossed between both our faces, oceans of words not said, but understood all the same. In the quiet, I said, “The bullet.” “It broke me. Crushed my soul.. Yeah, sex - okay, but it was more than that. To me, she saw me as an abomination, someone to take pity on. My worth as a giver, as a provider, as a lover, and as someone she really had no respect for. That fucking bullet, damnit
“It is time to put my desires, my needs to the front. I am attracted to you. I know you are attracted to me. For the next 3 or so hours, let’s enjoy each other.” There was no pretending now, we were both barely containing our lust, our passion.
Photo by Dmitry Spravko on Unsplash
She nudged me down the hall to the open door. Damn, now I felt like Neo, stopping all the bullets. Every one of them dropped to the floor. It was time. But it wouldn’t be with me partner, my wife of all these years. It would be with her…
to be continued, maybe
