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Friday, November 03, 2017

Delilah Calling (2)



"But I don’t want to take them all off,” he complained, even as the irony of role reversal struck him.
Hazel eyes dimmed a bit and she paused with her jeans around her waist, power and command mirroring in her pretty face.

“You have to take everything off, even your boxers.”

“But I feel cold!” he said, not wanting her to know the truth; he did not like sex with the lights on, his body was so imperfect for that.

“Okay,” she said, conceding a bit, “you can keep you shirt on but take every other stuff off.”

He got the idea that the ‘taking off’ clothes was not just a ritual before the act but a safety measure, probably brings one to bed without any hidden weapons that may cause harm. He was about to ask her but she silenced him with her imploring eyes and glanced at her wristwatch. Time must be of an essence, he thought.

“Put this on,” she told him offhandedly, pushing a condom into his shaky hands while laying back into the meagre mattress.
He knew desire had already left him but he did not expect the extent of it. Looking down his member with the condom in his hands, he felt drained.

It hung, not just limp, but devoid of character, showing half its normal size.

She smiled at him as she took the limp member in her hands and proceeded to bring it to life. She must have stroked it for a while before he realized that it was a fruitless effort, as the offending member hung limper than ever.

Taking it from her cool hands, he proceeded to coax it alive with an increasing up and down motion while projecting his mind to more successful tumbles in the past.

When several minutes of this did not work and her earlier soft encouragements was turning to murmured complaints of time’s money and unproductive sessions, he completely tuned off and looked at her with a smile on his face.

“Why the smile?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Nothing,” he replied, “it’s just that I expected this.”

“Expected this?” she inquired, mixture of fear and confusion playing across her face.

“ Yes, the truth is that I’ve not been able to do this with a prostitute,” he informed her, trying not to sound abusive or degenerate. “ This is my second attempt with the same result.”

“And you say you are not impotent?” she asked, suspicion clouding her prettily painted face.

“No I am not,” he countered. “I had an erection walking up the stairs behind you a few minutes ago, it just happened when we got into the room.”

“So what do you want me to do now?” she challenged, her doe eyes blazing, “You mean you wasted my time for nothing?” by now her voice had lost its previous conspiratorial whisper and had picked up a sharp edge he felt she uses for situations like this.

“I am not asking for my money back,” he murmured, knowing her heart and its direction.

“And what are you asking?” she asked, sounding hurt.

He looked at her, tongue tied, wondering how to tell a prostitute with this much pride in her abilities that he was sorry he couldn’t tumble with her and that it was no fault of hers.

She stood before him arms akimbo, challenge in her hazel doe eyes. He was reminded sourly of the fact the couple in the next room, divided from this by a thin board of plywood, will be party to any raised voice communion. “Nothing, really, keep the money,”

She looked at him with what appears to be pity, "OK, she said. "But know that I would have given you a good time."
“Thanks.” he said, collecting his shoe from her, he stepped out into the corridor, turned and saw her still looking at him.

“Sorry,” he mouthed again, before escaping down the corridor, passing several girls and their customers emerging or entering rooms identical to the one he just left.

As he left the building, loud laughter seemed to follow him into the street. He cringed at the thought that the joke was on him and quickened his pace.

He had gotten to the bus stop and was in the process of hailing a bike when his phone rang.
He stared for some seconds at the caller ID ‘baby’ before picking the call.

“Hello babes.” he said, trying to sound better than he felt.” How are you?”

“Fine,” she responded. “Just calling to know if you are doing something crazy in my absence.”

“No,” he said with all sincerity as he signaled a commercial motorcycle. “No, sweetheart. I haven’t done anything crazy and I doubt if I will be doing anything crazy until you get back.” he smiled into the phone as relief washed over him like a thousand rivers...


Concluded
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