Читать книгу Quench My Thirst - R. Moreen Clarke - Страница 9

Naomi sat at the kitchen table reading the local entertainment newspaper Greg had picked up at a free newsstand on their last trip into town. Greg always liked to see what was happening around town. She flipped it to the personals section out of curiosity and began perusing some of the ads. While reading the Women Seeking Men section, her attention was drawn to an ad that read Handy Men, Inc—Specialists in cobweb removal, pipe cleaning, lubrication, and rejuvenation of unused facilities. We promise discreet, quick, responsive resolution to your in-home woes. Call now: 312-555-HMAN. She naively thought the ad was misplaced in the personals section. Shaking her head and sighing deeply, she closed the paper and got up to make a pot of coffee.

Naomi was meeting Ida, her best friend, for lunch at the mall later in the afternoon. In the meantime, there was housework that needed to be done. The ad kept popping into her head as she thought of a few minor repairs around the house that Greg had not had a chance to take care of. An hour later she returned to the kitchen and cut the ad out of the paper and stuck it into her pocket. A handyman might just do the trick, she thought. It would take some of the stress off Greg and give him more time to relax when he was home from work.

Ida was waiting for her at the Nordstrom entrance to the Woodfield Mall. They exchanged a greeting hug and proceeded to the housewares department. Ida was redoing her master bath and had enlisted Naomi’s assistance with the decorating. An hour and a half later, they were both loaded down with new towels, facecloths, and matching accessories.

They made their way across the mall to the Rainforest Café for lunch. Their lunch discussion centered on Ida’s twins, who were in first grade this year and were spending a full day away from her. She said she found it so freeing to have the little ones out of her hair for several blissful hours every day. So her first project was to redecorate all the bathrooms in the house.

Naomi mentioned she wanted to get some work done around the house as well and pulled the ad from her pocketbook to show Ida and ask her what she thought.

“I found this in the paper this morning. I was hoping to get some work done around the house. Do you think I should call them?” she asked.

Ida took the ad and looked it over carefully. A small frown puckered her brow.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“From the newspaper,” Naomi replied innocently.

“It reads a little strange. What paper was it? What section of the paper?” Ida asked, turning the paper over in her hand and perusing the reverse side of the ad. It didn’t look like the Chicago Sun-Times to her, and there was half a naked woman on the back.

“That paper you get free on the street in those newsstand boxes on the corner. Greg picked it up. I think they misplaced it in the personals section. I almost didn’t see it. I don’t know how they expect to drum up business that way,” she replied.

Ida burst out laughing. Naomi, not sure what the joke was, became embarrassed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Oh, Lucy. I love you,” Ida replied between her tears of laughter.

Naomi knew when Ida called her Lucy it meant she’d done something dumb. Ida loved Lucille Ball, and while Naomi tried not to become offended by the nickname, she always inadvertently found out she’d made a huge gaff when Ida called her Lucy.

“What did I do this time?” Naomi asked, exasperated.

“Honey, you found this in the personals. Now I won’t even ask what you were doing reading the personals, but…here, read it again,” Ida said and attempted to hand the little cutout back to Naomi.

“I read it already. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, pushing the paper back at Ida.

“I’ll bet this was in the section of women looking for men, am I right?” Ida asked.

“Yes, I think it was,” Naomi replied quietly.

“Okay, look here where it says ‘pipe cleaning, lubrication, and rejuvenation of unused facilities’.” Ida pointed to the lines in the ad.

“All right,” Naomi said and looked up, puzzled.

“‘Discreet, quick, responsive resolution to your in-home woes’?” Ida continued.

“Okay, what am I missing?” Naomi asked.

“How regularly does Greg clean your pipes?” Ida asked seriously.

“Jeez, I don’t think he’s touched them in years,” Naomi replied with equal seriousness. She couldn’t remember the last time Greg went up on the roof to clean the gutters.

“Naomi, you clearly do not understand what I am talking about. So let me be blunt. When was the last time you and Greg had sex?” Ida asked boldly.

Naomi flushed a deep red. How did they get to the topic of sex, especially between her and Greg? It was not a topic she liked to discuss, even with Ida.

“Ugh, last week. Why? What does that have to do with anything?” she whispered, highly agitated by where this conversation was going.

“This is a sex ad, Naomi. This type of handyman services your sexual pipes and needs—nothing else. Do you understand now?” Ida said slowly for effect.

“Oh!” Naomi said, clutching her hand to her chest. With her other hand she snatched the ad back and crumpled it up. “How could I be so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid. You just haven’t been exposed to things like this. So you don’t see it for what it really is. You’re just too innocent. Sad to say,” Ida counseled.

Naomi stared down at her plate for a long time and said nothing. Slowly she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Ida was shocked to see her so upset over something so silly.

“Is there something you want to talk about? Is everything okay at home?” Ida asked.

“Yes, it’s fine. I just feel really dumb right now,” Naomi lied. She couldn’t get over the fact that she felt drawn to that ad. Was it a subliminal message? Had she really been looking for something more than housecleaning when she’d cut out the ad?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you, really I didn’t. You were just too sheltered as a kid, I swear. I bet Greg was your first?”

“Actually, he wasn’t.” Naomi smiled, a little proud of the fact she’d experienced sex with more than one man.

“Well, he must have been the best. ’Cause you married him,” Ida said pointedly.

Naomi just smiled again. “Of course,” she replied as she regained her composure. She wouldn’t discuss her dismal sex life with even her best friend. She wouldn’t shame her husband that way. She loved him, and it was all that mattered.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve got to be home by two thirty to pick up the kids,” Ida said, gathering her packages and purse.

Naomi nonchalantly knocked the little crumpled ball of paper off the table and onto the floor as she reached for her purse. While picking her own packages off the floor, she scooped up the little ball and dropped it inside her shopping bag, hoping Ida didn’t notice.

Naomi put on her Johnny Gill CD while she did her housework. Her hair tied up in a scarf, wearing gym shorts and a tank top, she danced around the living room, imagining herself at a club, shaking and gyrating to the music. She dusted the end tables and rearranged the magazines on the coffee table. As she reached for the vacuum, she heard Johnny singing the red-dress song. She stopped and closed her eyes. Allowing her body to sway with the music, she saw herself in a sexy red dress and Johnny singing to her and running his hands along her body. She twirled around the room like a jazz dancer, creating a romantic scene in her mind. By the time the song was over, she was hot and horny.

Greg was upstairs in the office working. She took off her scarf and fluffed her short curls. She smiled as she imagined herself accosting Greg at his desk. Skipping up the stairs, she headed for his office. A quick glance revealed him intent on his computer screen. She entered his office, walked up to him, and kissed him on the mouth. She pushed his chair away from the desk and climbed into his lap.

“What’s this all about?” he asked, laughing. He reached over and clicked off the screen he’d been looking at.

“What are you doing?” she asked, nibbling on his neck.

“Browsing. Nothing particular,” he replied.

“Do you think there is something else you might want to do?” she asked.

“Hmmm, maybe there is,” he said, joining in the mood. He assisted her off his lap and slipped out of his sweats and briefs. His thickened rod was already firm and ready for action.

She dropped her shorts and panties and pushed him back down in the chair. Eagerly, she climbed onto his lap and inserted his rod inside her body. Smiling, she adjusted her position while he grabbed hold of her buttocks to keep her from falling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and started moving back and forth on his groin. He nibbled her neck while she moved. Still engrossed in her own fantasy, she started to rock deeper and more aggressively. Working steadily, she was enjoying the feel of his body inside hers.

Suddenly his fingers tightened on her buttocks. And he let out a loud, howling groan. She raised her head from his neck and looked at the wall on the other side of the room. With a blank expression on her face, she kept her face averted. If he looked at her she would not be able to hide her disappointment. This was not how her fantasy was supposed to end. She wasn’t even worked up yet.

“I’m sorry, baby. You hit that spot again,” he said sorrowfully. He knew she hadn’t climaxed. It embarrassed him that he could not hold off his ejaculation. “Maybe I should see the doctor and get some of those pills,” he offered.

Naomi climbed down from his lap and collected her shorts off the floor. “You’re too young to need Viagra, Greg,” she replied. As she turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed her hand.

“I love you, honey,” he said. The naked emotion in his eyes implored her to understand.

“I know, Greg. I love you, too,” she said and walked out the door. “Damn Johnny Gill,” she muttered to herself as she walked into the bathroom. She locked the door and turned on the water in the shower stall. After she removed her shirt and bra, she stepped into the stall under the jet stream of hot water. The water rained down over her head and body. Her nerves were on edge, and the usually relaxing spray was not providing relief. She loved Greg, but his lack of control had become more and more frustrating. She tried not to think about sex too often, but then there were days like today when her body wanted it and she couldn’t resist the temptation to seduce her husband.

“I should have known better,” she grumbled and removed the mesh sponge from the shower rack and poured a generous amount of scented gel onto the surface. Rubbing it across her skin, she worked up a good lather and began to wash. Her strokes across her body were angry and hard as if to wash away the desires of the flesh. She scrubbed her arms and legs vigorously. As she stepped under the spray to wash away the suds, she caught sight of her naked reflection through the glass doors. She stared at the reflection as if it wasn’t her own image. The woman in the mirror stared back at her for a moment and then began to move the soapy mesh sponge across her breasts. She stared vacantly at Naomi as she continued to lather her body in slow, sensuous circles. The trail of suds covered her breasts and continued down her midsection toward her navel and then disappeared between her legs. As the mesh sponge passed over her sensitive clitoris, it sent a message to her brain. It said Touch me again. Naomi heard the sharp intake of her own breath as the message registered loud and clear. Suddenly the mysterious woman was gone, and she stared at her own image in the mirror. She dropped the sponge and used her hand to massage the raw ache between her legs. Her eyes closed as she leaned against the shower wall and applied more pressure. The muscles of her abdomen contracted as she bent forward in response to the tiny orgasms passing through her groin. The shower spray pelted her hunched shoulders. She continued to massage her clit firmly but still hadn’t reached a good climax. Her body ached painfully with unfulfilled desire, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around a decent sexy thought or vision. She just wanted to come, to give it all up in a blazing climax. To let her body flush away all its pent-up feelings in one amazing rush. It wasn’t happening. She was rubbing herself raw, and nothing was happening. Desperate, she snatched the goosenecked showerhead down from the wall. Changing the jet spray to pulse, she used one hand to expose her clitoris and the other to point the shower spray directly on it. Her body jerked violently in response to the rapid stream of water pellets pounding her tender and raw clit. She cried aloud as the force of her orgasm shoved her back against the shower wall. She snatched her facecloth off the towel rack and thrust it in her mouth, muffling her moaning cries as she continued to direct the stream at her exposed and tender clit until the pain became unbearable. She leaned weakly against the cold tiles of the shower as anger suffused her body. She was angry at him for forcing her to punish her body this way and angry at herself for being so mentally weak. She was saddened by the knowledge that her only sexual release was found at the end of a showerhead. She turned off the water and returned the showerhead to its holder on the wall. Drained and emotionally distraught, she sat down on the shower seat and rested her head in her hands. Her pubic area was inflamed, and she couldn’t cross her legs without pain. She didn’t think she could take much more of this. As a young woman, she felt she needed more than Greg could give her. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow I make the call.

Naomi waited until Greg left for work the following morning. She stood by the living room window and watched his car drive off down the street. She walked back to her bedroom and retrieved the tiny piece of paper from the inside zipper pocket of her purse. She sat down on the side of the bed and wondered if it was too early to call. Slowly she picked up the receiver and punched in the numbers. After the third ring, a man answered.

“Handy Men, Inc,” he said.

“I’d like to make an appointment,” she said nervously. Her palms were beginning to sweat, and she rubbed her free hand along her thigh.

“What day of the week?” he asked.

“Uh, I didn’t…” she said. She realized she hadn’t thought this out very well.

“First time?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“This is what you do. You figure out what day or days of the week are best for you. Pick a time, preferably after five. Plan for an hour and a half. Secure a location, and call us back. By the way, the fee for the service is five hundred dollars. Call us back when you’re ready,” he said and hung up.

“Five hundred dollars,” she repeated aloud. “Five hundred dollars?” The man on the phone had been very pleasant. His voice was nice, but five hundred dollars was a lot of money. How could she justify spending so much money at one time in her own mind? She also didn’t think about where she would meet this man. Apparently it was up to her to secure a room, because she wasn’t stupid enough to have him come to her house. More money, she thought. She groaned as she got up from the bed. She would have to think about this some more.