“Sounds good to me, though I could whip up something. Maybe another time. Just don’t take forever. I’ve been waiting a long time to spend some time alone with you.”
When he returned not more than an hour later, Sylvia had just about finished unloading the truck. Not only had she managed to empty the truck with no assistance, she had arranged her living room and somehow managed to get the full sized mattress and box spring upstairs and into the master bedroom.
“You couldn’t wait?”
“You’ve done more than enough for one day, hon. Besides, I need you to rest up. There’s more tomorrow,” Sill shouted from the bedroom
“What are you doing, Sill? You were showering when I left. Hope you like beef lo-mein.”
“I kinda’ got antsy waiting for you and worked up a sweat. Now what was it that you asked me?
Lo-mein?
Yeah, sure I like lo-mein but what I really like is your thoughtfulness. But right now there’s another business that I need to tend to before I even think about stuffing my face.”
“What now?” Terrance always thought he had an inordinate amount of patience but she was certainly starting to test it now. They had already eaten and danced together. Worked and almost slept together but they had yet to talk. Really sit down and have a serious conversation. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the nearly naked silhouette, which adorned the bathroom doorway. Terrance was aghast. Hell, the talk could wait. What was one more day? Conversation wasn’t all it was chalked up to be anyway.
Terrance’s gaze was fixed on Sill who stood before him in the laciest cream-colored camisole he had ever had the occasion to see. Black garter belts grabbed her black, fishnet stockings and pulled them ever so tightly over her chocolate thighs. If that wasn’t enough, Sylvia Stanton complimented her outfit with a pair of six inch cream-colored high heels.
“My momma always told me that every man wants an intelligent, sophisticated woman in the living room and a call girl in the bedroom. ‘Cept momma didn’t exactly refer to them as call girls. You think that’s true, Mr. Daniels? Can we make an exception tonight and let the call girl come out into the living room?”
Terrance, unable to speak, managed to mumble something unintelligible. Very much in control, Sylvia handed Terrance a glass of wine, then led him to the patio, slid open the glass doors and pulled him, quivering and quaking, through.
“Sylvia, sweetheart what about the neighbors?”
Sylvia fell to her knees and unbuckled his pants and slid his pants to the ground. The neighbors were no longer a concern. They made love not once—not twice—but three times. Once on the living room floor, once on the stairs and once on the bathroom floor.
As a weary Terrance stepped out of the shower, she attacked him once more, emitting guttural sounds, which in all candor, made Terrance quite, nervous and a bit uneasy. Sylvia had looked sinister, almost possessed when he opened the door of the shower. He wondered how long it had been since she had last made love. The last time
they
made love, Sylvia started laughing hysterically for no apparent reason, then stopped abruptly and, without a word, got up and simply left the room. She returned with a lit cigarette in her hand, mounted Terrance, cigarette still in hand and rode him until, drenched and spent, he pushed her away. She fought him this time, swinging wildly in an attempt to keep him in her.
“No! No! You mustn’t stop! Not yet! No, you mustn’t,” she screamed as if her were tormenting or beating her. She had a distant look in her eyes. Ter-rance quickly realized that wherever she was at that moment, one thing was certain and that was that she wasn’t there with him. It was almost as if she was trying to purge herself of some inner demon. An hour later, with Sylvia sitting totally nude, a glass of wine in her hand staring out the living room window, Terrance gathered his clothes and headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going, hon?” she asked, incredulously.
“I thought you might want to spend your first night in your new place alone,” he replied. The truth of the matter was he was spent, drained of all emotion, confused. He never slept with anyone so hell-bent on—he didn’t know what. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it but she definitely had some issues, which needed to be resolved in her attempts at lovemaking if you could even call it that.
“Look, Terrance, I realize that we’ve just met and don’t know each other all that well, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that I usually say what’s on my mind. If I wanted to be alone, I would’ve said so. Shit, I’ve been alone for the past six years and the last thing I want is to be alone tonight.”
“Could have fooled me,” Terrance muttered under his breath but loud enough for her to hear.
“And what exactly is
that
supposed to mean? I did my damnedest to try and please you, to show you that Laura and the rest of your little yuppie girlfriends had nothing on this middle-aged sista. Perhaps you’re just not accustomed to being with a woman.”
Terrance was sure she had issues now and they were obviously too deep for him to work out. Whatever trauma she had been through or was going through of one thing he was sure. She needed professional help and counsel-ing—and time. And he had neither the time, nor the experience to aid in what appeared some rather deep-seated emotional problems. Not wanting to argue, Terrance gathered his belongings and continued dressing.
“What you did was show me,” he found himself saying. “What I wanted was for you to share with me. I’m not interested in a live sex show. I’m interested in you and what makes you tick. I wanted to make love, Sill, and you weren’t even in the same room with me, let alone on the same page.”
Sylvia lit another cigarette, found the ashtray, grabbed the wine and sat up crossing her legs Indian-like on the sofa. “I suppose, you’re right, at least to some degree, Terrance. I guess I’m so afraid of growing old alone that I feel I have to prove myself, to perform just to keep a man. I am so very fond of you, Terrance but I keep thinking of the difference in age. And your friend Laura, so young and vibrant and beautiful scares the hell out of me. I kinda feel like she’s got a head start and I’m trying to play catch up. I’m not even sure of how to play the game anymore or if I can even compete with someone so young and so beautiful. I can’t ask you to forget about her and just run off with me, though I wish I could. But seriously, you don’t know how long I avoided you just so I wouldn’t have to feel like this.
I know every woman that you dated at West Lansing and prayed that they wouldn’t work. You see, Terrance, I did my homework too. And now that I have you and think that this may be what I want, I know deep down in my heart that I don’t have a chance in hell of keeping you and it’s eating me up.”
Sylvia crushed the cigarette butt out in the ashtray and dropped the loose-fitting camisole over her head to cover herself. And then everything seemed to sag at once. Her shoulders rose, and then fell rhythmically, keeping time to the Coltrane playing on the stereo in the next room. Sylvia sobbed softly in despair. She sobbed for the lost loves and turbulent relationships, for the loss of her marriage, for the loss of William, but most of all she sobbed for the loss of hope, and, therefore, for the loss of herself
In an attempt to comfort her, Terrance wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed her gently. Sylvia’s startling revelation did Terrance a world of good. Perhaps they were in the same book, if not on the same page after all. Not sure of his own emotions, which only a moment ago seemed so clear, he again submitted to her requests.
“Take me, Terrance. Oh, darling, please take me now! Show me that you want me, that you love me. Please darling! Just take me now.” As requested Ter-rance lifted the camisole and entered her and though he was sore and spent he rode her, trying to soothe her and bring some solace to a woman much more complex than he could have ever imagined. There was so much beneath the surface that he didn’t know but even as he lay on top of her he could hear Jazzy’s voice telling him to be careful and thought about getting up at that very moment but she was relaxed now and seemed to be one with him. Still sobbing, she met each gentle thrust with one of her own. Slowly, passionately, she rose, and then fell at his command. And then she rose again to meet him, praying that their union would never end. She bit her lip and recognized the salty taste of her won blood. Ignoring this Sylvia fought back the impending climax that would surely mark the end and leave her craving for more.
How long had it been?
And then, when she could not hold it back any longer, she dug the spikes of her heels deep into his buttocks as if she could hold on forever and to make him feel her pain.
A warm wave swept through her. And then another. Screaming his name, she lifted her legs up and wrapped them around tightly around his back to keep him in her. Orgasm after orgasm fell into place as if they had been ever so perfectly choreographed.
Damn, he was good!
Oh, how she wanted to please him, to keep him forever, right here, between her thighs, in her heart. But would he allow her. Still moving beneath him, Sylvia continued to meet his gentle thrusts with those of her own. She felt the soreness between her thighs now and was sure she could not go another minute and then the floodgates opened up and another warm rush of orgasms rained down upon her. She had never before known that such pleasure existed but was sure she could stand no more. Reaching for the headboard, she attempted to pull herself free but found she could not move him. His gentle thrusts were no longer and he seemed to have lost all sight of their coupling. He was coming and she was not going to stop him. Sill felt the pain of his pounding creep from her thighs to the small of her back. Her legs were cramping and her efforts to free herself were in vain. Frightened by his violent thrusts, she screamed for him to stop, and then demanded him to. Her demands fell on deaf ears, as he too, was swept up in a wave of orgasms. It would all be over soon. But when? God! She prayed it would be soon. And then when the pain and pleasure became one, and more than she could bear, Sylvia, tears flowing freely, raw and cut up inside, shrieked from the pain, had a moment of madness and begged him for more, before passing out beneath him.
Terrance untangled himself, dressed quickly, and exited through the back door. He now knew that any man involved with Sylvia Stanton could not simply walk away. He also knew that there would ultimately be a price to pay and right now he wasn’t quite sure that he could afford to or had the desire to pay.
The cold night air felt good to him. The seasons were changing but there was still a bitter nip in the air. It was no more than a five minute walk to his own townhouse. And before he knew it he was there. Entering the foyer, he kicked off his shoes and fell into his easy chair. Tapping his answering machine resulted in a slew of messages. There were three from Laura who appeared adamant about seeing him tonight.
Ignoring them all, he ran a tub of hot water, added some Epsom salt and then poured himself a glass of
Chivas
on the rocks before submerging himself. The phone rang and someone knocked simultaneously. On any other night he wouldn’t have minded but tonight he was beat. And yet, the night was young. It couldn’t have been later than nine or nine-thirty. Stepping out of the tub and reaching for a towel, he realized he didn’t care how young the night was. Sore from head to toe, he was finished for the night. And whatever they were selling, he wasn’t buying. He smiled; he knew Sill was sleeping soundly. Aside from her, no one else was welcomed. In fact, he wondered if he would have opened the door even if it had been Sill. He tried to ignore the phone but it continued to ring. Whoever was calling was, if nothing else, persistent. Terrance rinsed off the beads of soap and water, and dried himself off before reaching for the phone. A familiar voice greeted him on the other end.
“Why, hello, lover and where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting all night for you to fill my rain check,” Laura chirped merrily along. “Now, do me and you a favor and go look through your peephole. Hurry up now. I’m waiting.”
Tired from the move, spent from Sill’s insatiable appetite, the last thing he felt like doing was playing games. He placed the receiver down next to the phone, picked up what was left of his drink and dragged himself to the peephole. There stood Laura in a brand new full-length fur and heels. When she realized that Terrance was looking through the peephole she opened the coat wide revealing everything. There stood Laura, buck naked except for the fur, which she let drape off her shoulder and those heels, which made her appear ten feet tall. Terrance swung the door open, grabbed Laura by the arm and yanked her into the apartment by the arm, looking around frantically.
“My goodness! You are glad to see me, aren’t you?” Laura laughed, heartily. She let the fur fall from her shoulders and Terrance watched speechless as it crumpled to the floor in a heap around her ankles.
“Someone else is glad to see me too, I see.”
The towel Terrance wrapped around himself had fallen in his haste to get Laura’s naked body in the house and out of plain view of the neighbors. And as sore as he was her nakedness had sparked a flame. Following her mischievous gaze, he quickly noticed that his manhood was standing at full attention. He reached for the towel to mask his embarrassment.
“No need for that, Terrance.” Laura grabbed his arm and led him to the sofa. “Mind if I fix myself a drink?”
“Not tonight, Laura. Please, baby, not tonight. Believe you me, I had a rough day, today.”
“Don’t worry, Tee. I’ll make whatever’s ailing you go away, baby.
Damn,
how I missed you Terrance. And I apologize for making you spend time with your mother while I was gone. What’s her name? You know—the grad student?” Laura was in rare form tonight. And, when she was like this, Terrance loved being with her. She could be both witty and charming but tonight was not the night.
Emotionally and physically spent, he couldn’t respond if he wanted to. His thoughts turned to Sill. She’d been asleep when he left her but what if she were to awaken and find him gone. She didn’t have a phone yet and she’d asked him to stay. If she were to awaken and find him gone she would surely stop by and here they were sitting, he in a towel and she nude. Lord knows what conclusion she’d arrive at. He thought about taking Laura out to dinner, maybe a flick. He had promised her an evening. He knew Laura, knew her strengths and her shortcomings. The jury was still out on Sill. In fact, there had been several times during the course of the day when he questioned her mental stability or as his daddy used to put it—he wondered—
’if all the bricks were in the wagon’.