Spring Fling (Blogophilia 14.38)

 The scotch rolled as he brought it to his lips. Most of the time he came to the bar, he wanted to be alone. Tonight wasn't one of those nights. He was looking for a spring fling. A one or two-night stand to take his mind off the worries of the world. 

Maybe I am selfish, he thought. Maybe it is inevitable. After all, I am only myself looking out. I can't really put myself in someone else's shoes. I'm only propelled by my own desires. And I want the scent of a woman as she whimpers under my touch. One that doesn't have an idea what the world is. All she knows is this is fun and there is no fear of consequences. 

A tiny woman sings in the corner. Dressed simply in a flowered blouse and slacks, chocolate drop eyes framed by a mass of curls. Large hoops dangled from her ears and a slender gold chain around was around her neck.  The piano sounded harsh and thin like it had been beaten in a past life and resented music. But the performance rises above it all. The voice is soft, almost a whisper. 

His mind drifted. There was something about this woman. All he wanted was ot kiss her curves and savor her essence. He waved. She nodded and smiled. She only comes up to his shoulder, but that never stopped anything before. 

When the set was over, she walked up. 

"Buy me a Martini." 

It sounded like a stripper come on. Maybe it was.  With a shrug, he does what he is told and holds the chair for her. 

"Mmm... A gentleman. I can tell a few things about you." As she stared over the glass. "Some people care too much, and you're one of them. Some call it love. I call it lust. You have it bad."

He grinned. This was an act. 

"Wouldn't you say the same thing about yourself"

She laughed at that. "Apples and oranges, Honey. However, we can help each other."

It wasn't long before they were in his apartment. They looked at each like they didn't know what to do next. 

"Do you have any music? 

His mind came back to his manners. Pulling out the phone, he touched a button. Tony Bennett filled the room. 

The hands went around the small body from the back just above her. Her was skin rough and smelled like tobacco. Pulling closer, they got the first taste. Her lips felt like peaches,  breasts were grapes  He was scotch and sweat. Clothes tumbled and desperation took over. Tears and supplications to life echoed against the walls. When they were finished, they slept soundly beside each other. The morning could wait

He woke first and slipped out of bed to make breakfast. She came into the kitchen and laughed seeing him wearing only an apron. He pointed to the two steaming cups on the counter. Next to them were a sliced apple and an orange.

"Hot grease huts." He grinned, popping a sliced apple in her mouth.

Picking up the bacon, she smiled. "Mmm. I'll kiss it and make it feel better." She took a bite and gave him the rest. 

They fed each other. then fed on each other,  leaving no crumbs behind. The dance was more measured than the night before, but no less enjoyable. When they slept again, they held each other tight.

It was late afternoon when it was time to leave. She left with a handshake and a grin.  As the door closed, he stared for a moment then smiled. It was the spring fling he hoped for.

Apples and oranges, indeed.