Scotch by night

He only noticed her after he had completed three quarters of a lap. As he came out onto the home straight she was just leaving it and entering the first turn. It was immediately obvious that it was a young woman. She was jogging more than running, and she was wearing somewhat warm, baggy clothing. And so he caught up with her quite quickly. Medium height with good proportions, he thought; her hair was in a bob, giving her a gay, dynamic air. As he passed her on the outside he glanced at her face. She was not looking in his direction, she didn`t acknowledge his presence. Regular features, full mouth, pretty enough. He turned his gaze to the moist tartan and concentrated on finding his rhythm; the going was heavy, the muscles recalcitrant. The track was deserted apart from the two of them, with low clouds pressing towards the ground but holding in for the moment. Shallow puddles bore witness to their recent activity.

After another lap the body started to wake up, easier going now, breathing and running joining into a common rhythm. A glance at the watch and he tried to calculate lap times. 1:40, 3:20, passing 1200 meters at 5:01, just behind schedule. The legs feeling light now. He caught up with her again and studied her gait. She wasn`t an experienced runner. Upright posture with somewhat heavy, short steps. This time as he overtook her she returned his glance with a slight smile.

The remainder of the 5000m passed in a blur of heavy breathing and painful thighs. On the last lap he caught a glimpse of her putting on a raincoat, and as he crossed the line at a disappointing 21:32 she was gone, leaving him slighly disappointed. He had hoped to catch up with her an exchange a few words, a few smiles, feel a little of that human touch.

As he approached his van the rain started to come down, gently first, then with increasing malice as he turned out onto the road. And there she was, a few hundred yards ahead, pushing a bike along the rainy street. It looked like an old-style men`s bike from a distance, and as he came along this was confirmed, and the rear tire was flat, too. He stopped just ahead of her and as she came alongside he said:
– Can I offer you a ride? Going far?
She recognised him after a few seconds, and the initial frown on her face dissolved.
– I think I have to accept. There must be a second deluge coming

Jumping out into the rain he opened the back door to his van and put the bike inside, and when he got behind the wheel, she was already there, waiting.
– thanks a lot
– always nice to help a fellow athlete!
– future athlete in my case!
The idea of another former athlete came into his mind, but he kept quiet. There was a snappiness in her manner, and a charm in her wet hair and the drops on her nose and upper lip that kindled a tiny flame inside him. She really was very direct.
There was an embarrassed pause all the same as he worked his way through the gearbox. Maybe she had thought the same as him? There was a gulf between them, no doubt about that. His gaze fell on her thighs, the outlines of which were visible through the soggy cotton that now clung to her. Where did she live?
– your place or mine? he heard himself blurt out,
– I mean, where do you live?
How is it possible, he thought as his face turned redder still.
She looked at him with a quizzical expression. Calmly she asked:
– what would Freud have made of that?
He decided to play along.
– he might have said that if the super-ego takes a moment off, the base desires may take the chance to express themselves.
– and what are the base desires?
She insisted.
He breathed heavily and looked straight at her.
– to know you in a biblical sense
He held his breath, while she held her tongue.
– no-one knows me that way
The last words were spoken silently, almost as if to herself
“a woman´s beauty belongs not only to herself. She should share it”, he ventured.
Did she know the reference?
– been reading too much Coetzee?
Suddenly the tone was ironic, like a gust of cold air, and it made him cower. Too obvious. Too naked. Too defenceless; and she struck.
– now you know, at least, he muttered
– take a right at the next intersection

The rain was beating down dementedly on the car roof as he came to a halt upon her direction. It was cold rain, too – not the warm, summery stuff. Dark rain, the end of a brief journey, and he didn`t want to let go.
Pulling on the handbrake he turned to her, on the offensive, but quietly he said:
– why hasn`t it happened yet? No-one up to scratch so far?
She looked at him evenly.
– something like that. Maybe I am too demanding. Not many guys read Coetzee
And if they do they probably don`t pass muster on other fronts, he thought
– but I am quote erotic, she said suddenly, with a look of helplessness at how it came out. It was her turn to blush, and he could feel his heartbeat and became aware of the intense smells of wet clothes, wet shoes, wet bodies rising from him. It was now. Or it was never.
– Melanie?
Melanie, the dark one, the student in “Disgrace”.
A second or two passed as she processed the reference and what it might mean. A smile formed on her lips and that twinkle in her eyes which he had seen a few times already.
– professor Lurie, I presume?
– I don`t mind, he replied

They left the wet car and the rain behind and entered her bedsit through a door down a short flight of stairs. Two very wet people, they filled the small room which seemed almost devoid of furniture. A desk, a bed, a low bookshelf. Some moving boxes made of cardboard. IKEA, they proclaimed. She cut him off:
– the shower is down the corridor on the right
She led him down a damp corridor into a small wash-room which also served as bathroom. Cement walls painted dark red, lino floor tiles and a white enamelled shower box which looked tiny.
Still they squeezed in somehow, brushing against eachother`s unknown bodies, waiting for the cold water to give way to hot. The shower head was of the economy-type.
– one jet of water for you and one for me, he joked in an effort to break the ice again
– no complaints will be admitted, she said, our room service more than makes up for any deficiencies in the plumbing department!
She was nervous. Of course she was nervous.

As for him, he was calm, filled with an expectant tension. This was a journey with well-known, even well-worn, features, and he knew he could deal with what lay ahead. In this he differed from her, she had no way of knowing. Sensing her nervousness he offered to wash her. A cliché, but with good reason, and she did relax as he washed her shoulders and back, her round buttocks, her legs, knees, calves. He dwelt on her smooth, muscular calves as he squatted with his back against the cold glass of the shower box. Lifting his head he was blinded by water hitting his eyes, so he got up and his hands reached round and started the journey down her front while he teased her neck with his mouth. Small nibbles. His sex was between them brushing against her. He loved caressing her breasts. They fitted perfectly in his big hands and she responded when he touched her nipples, like a volcano set upon by a careless geologist. She pressed her buttocks against him and grabbed his sex. That was painful – he sucked some air between his teeth and she let go. Keeping a hand on one breast as if to keep the heat on he washed her belly and then he put a hand on her sex, on her pussy, for the first time. He was welcome. Soapy watery slippery lips, she pushed back against him as if to escape the intrusion.

There was little time for him to wash. She pulled herself free and opened the door to let in a rush of cold air as she slipped out. A quick rinse and he followed her wet footprints on the lino tiles, then unpainted cement, then green wall-to-wall carpet. The footsteps ended at her bed, where she was hiding under a thin duvet. He was naked on the floor, rather wet after drying with a worn-out towel of the type that doesn’t absorb much anymore. For a moment he felt her gaze upon him. He crept under the cover, and immediately her scent and warmth were there again. He lay still for a moment, cherishing the moment of calm, feeling the moisture of his and her body on the dry sheets. Wet hair, smooth skin. All that was to come. She smiled at him and they kissed gingerly to find out how that worked. Then he saw a question forming inside her and he guessed what it was.
– I think I know what you are thinking about, he said in a soft voice.
– you needn’t worry, he continued, the cannon only fires blanks now
– Oh. Well, that’s a bit of a relief.

She didn’t ask why or how. “Kiss me here”. She pointed at her breasts. Too shy to name them? He kissed her breast one at a time and teased her nipples. The whole girl squirmed and her hand was between her own legs and it was rubbing expertly against her most sensitive spot. He let go of her breast and looked directly at her. Her legs came apart, her knees slightly up, like a woman conceiving, like a woman giving birth. The parallell was obvious, and he was on top of her now, the way a man lies with a woman, and only a few centimetres remained. His sex was literally throbbing.
– come on, she whispered, and she steered him with a steady hand towards a point that yielded and offered resistance in equal measure. Wet, tight, slippery – he knew it wouldn’t be difficult. There was a moment of pain for both of them then the passage was open and a fantastic warmth enveloped him.
– good God. It was his own voice. He lay still for a while as if to check that all systems were operative, trying to clear his mind and sense all that was going on. She wanted him to move, and they moved together in the dance that has been danced through the ages. He was in the lead now, arching his back to kiss those nipples. With a hand clutching her behind he pressed against her, and the effect was immediate. Screwing. Hip-screwing. Her sex had opened completely and at the same time her body was radiating enormous amounts of heat. He kicked the duvet away awkwardly. Trying to hold back while giving her pleasure ; it wasn’t going to work! There was no turning back; he fucked her quickly for a few seconds to make the most of it, then the fire shot through him, and he could feel her looking at him, observing him as if he were some animal in its death throes. He allowed himself to lay down on her, while avoiding crushing her. She kissed his ears. The world resumed its shape.

He felt admiration and gratitude and wonderment that he could not give voice to. He knew better than that. This was a moment for the body, not for the mind or the soul or the complexities of her life or his. He rolled off her and motioned to her to get on her belly, and proceeded to kiss her back all the way down to where the valley began, and he followed the valley and found her firm, sticky skin and his own liquids and a tight flower bud that he licked and probed and she raised herself and let his tongue come in where his sex had just been and let him search for the hot spot and play it with his tongue and mouth. He entered her again like this and knew almost immediately that she was going to climax. Unheard of, he thought, thrusting gently and methodically inside her and she came just like that, short, with a whimper, he felt her contracting then collapsing into the bed. He lay next to her, kissed her now. She was smelling him.
– interesting, she said
– heavenly, he said seriously. Just heavenly.

She saw the seriousness in his gaze, and felt the soreness between her wet legs, and the soreness in her heart.
– one cannot stay in heaven, you know

I know, he said.