THE MOTEL PAINTING
Before I get too side tracked, let me get back to Friendly. After making my play and being gently rebuked, Friendly didn't skip a beat. The next day she called and we arranged to meet up in the city. We drank. We ate. I looked at her. She looked at me. She moved over in the booth. She kissed me. She picked up the check. That's right- SHE kissed me. Of course i returned the favor but I want to make this clear. She made the first move. I'm innocent. OK maybe not innocent, but at least not alone in my in my planned seduction.
Well, once that bridge was crossed I was more than happy to take the reins. I'd been working in Jersey on a high end redo during the week and felt that a motel rendevous was in order. I went to town, picked her up and returned to suburbia with my prize. I was as nervous as a pimply 14 year old on his first date. Aside from that kiss we had no idea how the pheromones would play. I'd been divorced for a while and my sex life was nothing to write home about. Things had built up, so to speak and I was afraid once the flood gates we opened....well I once had an Irish setter who would hump thin air within sniffing distance of a female. I felt a bit like that setter. Thank god for booze and age. I calmed down.
We checked in. She was done up in a velour pantsuit, night on the town makeup, stillettos, dangling earrings and fur coat. I brushed my teeth and got out the wedding and funeral suit. We looked good together. By the time we got down to the business at hand I'd regained some composure and we were off to the races. To say it's like riding a bicycle gives way too much credit to those 2 wheelers. I used every move in the book. Friendly was on board and reciprocated. Like having a good dance partner, sex with the right person can be more that just a spin 'round the floor. If we didn't win the prize, we damn sure deserved honorable mention. By the second dance my capezios were smoking.
"Jesus." I said laying back on the bed, fumbling for a smoke. "I feel like I just got out of the joint." She was sweating, her fancy french bra twisted like a twizzler, one shoe hanging from the lamp. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." she cooed, taking the cigarette from my lips. "Oh my Gawd!" she cried. "My aunt did that painting." The cry had caught me off guard and i knocked the wine bottle off the table, as she jumped out of bed and went in for a closer look. It was true. Her aunt had done the painting. I can't remember what it looked like, but the image of Friendly's lanky, naked frame tip- toeing across the room to check out her aunt's canvas is seared in my memory bank. That's when it really started. I'm a sucker for an art lover.
Well, once that bridge was crossed I was more than happy to take the reins. I'd been working in Jersey on a high end redo during the week and felt that a motel rendevous was in order. I went to town, picked her up and returned to suburbia with my prize. I was as nervous as a pimply 14 year old on his first date. Aside from that kiss we had no idea how the pheromones would play. I'd been divorced for a while and my sex life was nothing to write home about. Things had built up, so to speak and I was afraid once the flood gates we opened....well I once had an Irish setter who would hump thin air within sniffing distance of a female. I felt a bit like that setter. Thank god for booze and age. I calmed down.
We checked in. She was done up in a velour pantsuit, night on the town makeup, stillettos, dangling earrings and fur coat. I brushed my teeth and got out the wedding and funeral suit. We looked good together. By the time we got down to the business at hand I'd regained some composure and we were off to the races. To say it's like riding a bicycle gives way too much credit to those 2 wheelers. I used every move in the book. Friendly was on board and reciprocated. Like having a good dance partner, sex with the right person can be more that just a spin 'round the floor. If we didn't win the prize, we damn sure deserved honorable mention. By the second dance my capezios were smoking.
"Jesus." I said laying back on the bed, fumbling for a smoke. "I feel like I just got out of the joint." She was sweating, her fancy french bra twisted like a twizzler, one shoe hanging from the lamp. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." she cooed, taking the cigarette from my lips. "Oh my Gawd!" she cried. "My aunt did that painting." The cry had caught me off guard and i knocked the wine bottle off the table, as she jumped out of bed and went in for a closer look. It was true. Her aunt had done the painting. I can't remember what it looked like, but the image of Friendly's lanky, naked frame tip- toeing across the room to check out her aunt's canvas is seared in my memory bank. That's when it really started. I'm a sucker for an art lover.
posted by mike osterhout at 5:06 PM
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