Friday, January 13, 2017

Two Can Love, If One Is Dead

Two Can Love, If One Is Dead
Bobby Derie

They smoked, in bed, passing the cigarette back and forth. Burnt throats were eased with sips of cherry wine. Outside the window, the sun hovered above the Sierras.

"Thank you Clark, I believe I needed that," the brunette smiled as she handed him the cigarette and set down her glass. With her now free-hands she set about putting up her mass of brown curls, letting her breasts hang free. Clark took a drag and enjoyed the view.

"My dear, it is I that should thank you. It is rare to find anyone in this town so"

She stuck out a pink tongue, then let a hand fall down to cover her nipples. "Poor boy, so lonely for company. How many lonely housewives have fallen for that act?"

He said nothing, but took a drag, laid down his own glass on a side-table, and holding the cigarette in his left hand, swung his leg around to face her, naked, on the bed. Very carefully, never breaking eye contact, he breathed out of the corner of his mouth. She was the first to look away, but his hand caught her chin and gently brought her face forward for a kiss - a very chaste kiss. She smiled and opened her eyes to his unblinking stare.

"We are neither of us the other's first, darling. I am not a homewrecker, nor do I wish to despoil some young virgin - where is the fun in that? An hour's pleasure, a few stolen kisses to light up an otherwise boring and eventless life - so long as we both are mutually agreeable, why not have a little fun."

She took the cigarette from him. "You don't want to tell me you love me, Clark?"

With her left hand, she reached down to stroke that which was between them.

"I did have the love-sickness once - a blonde. We were scarcely more than children when her illness claimed her." The brunette's arm never stopped working as he stared at her. "Now that she has passed, the memory of her haunts me; and in honor of it, I prefer brunettes. Because you know that they say," he leaned into her, and she fell back, letting the cigarette fall into the wine glass on the table, "two can love, if one is dead."


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