Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [10]
“Will that be all? Something to drink?” he asked.
“Water is fine,” Donna answered.
“We have bottled water, if you would like.”
“Just leave us alone,” I finally said, beginning to get annoyed.
“Call me if you need anything,” he replied and disappeared behind the large door leading to the kitchen.
“He’s pissing me off!” Donna said, separating her precut sandwich into two halves.
“Time for what?” I brought her back to her original statement.
“Donald, did you think that I got together with you because of your looks?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m sure you did. You put me in the cage with those chicken-heads out there.”
“I didn’t put you anywhere,” I said; not liking where our conversation was headed.
“Of course you didn’t, but all you men do the same thing.”
I was curious. “What’s that?”
“Think with your dicks and lie with your mouth. Donald, let me give you some advice. Never fool yourself into thinking that you know what a woman wants.” She bit into her sandwich.
I wasn’t expecting anything but occasional sex from Donna. She never once mentioned anything else. She would call me and, if I was available, I would go. We rarely talked about our home lives and we had completed the project at her office.
She showed her hearty appetite by tearing into the sandwich. I looked at her as she ate, making sure that she chewed completely before swallowing. And when she did swallow, everything was gone. I began getting excited by mentally replacing my dick for the food.
“Your dick is thinking again,” she said. “How’s your wife?”
“The same as your husband, I suppose.”
“He’s at home, happy in bed, waiting for me to come to the house and fuck him until he pledges undying love to me,” she said, a soft smile forming on her perfectly shaped lips. “Is your wife at home picking pussy hairs from between her teeth?”
“What do you know about my wife?”
“I know she likes the beaver more than she likes the dog.”
“And?”
“How did you happen to have Emerald? By the way, he looks exactly like you. Was she drunk that night?” Donna said, finishing up the fries that came with the sandwich.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, feeling like the only one naked in this conversation.
“The only time you used your head for the right thing, you ended up getting fucked, didn’t you?” Donna started on the other half of the sandwich.
I finished the first half of mine and pushed it away from the table.
“Only a man would get caught up with a lesbian. You should have known by the way she looked at your dick that she preferred pussy. I realized that from the first time I met her. Why did you think she kept her eyes focused on you? Do you think it was because she was so much in love? No, my friend, it was the only way for her not to stare at women.”
“When did you meet my wife?”
“Is that important?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“It’s terrible living at home, isn’t it? On one hand, there’s your son whose blood runs in you. On the other, your wife and her abusive lover whom you despise. Poor Donald; he doesn’t even own the car he drives. Is that enough?” she asked.
“If there’s more, feel free to continue,” I said, looking at her empty plate. It seemed like the entire world had me undressed.
“It’s time,” Donna said, eyeing my half-eaten sandwich.
I pushed my plate toward her. “On second thought, take this bullshit home to your husband.”
Donna’s face became contorted. “You ready to go upstairs?”
“What’s upstairs for me?”
“Freedom for you and your son; if you play your cards right.”
“The cost?”
“Maybe nothing; maybe everything. It’s your choice. You can get up and walk out right now and continue to live life as usual. Or you can go up to the room with me and take a chance at freedom. I’ll be in suite 531.” She drank the rest of the water and motioned for the waiter to come over. She signed for the check and walked out of the restaurant.
The elevator took me to the fifth floor. Donna and I had never been to this hotel but, in the relatively short time it had been open, I had been here on five occasions; each time with a different woman. The last