Natalie looked up at me, her eyes blank. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not!”
I banged the door behind me as I left but as I got into my car to drive off to work, I felt good, more in control. I didn’t want Natalie thinking that I needed her or that she was irreplaceable. She was working for me now. That meant certain standards had to be maintained.
I thought about Natalie again at work.
It was in the back of my mind, how she had looked at me when I had finished yelling at her, at the way her big blue eyes fixed on me, not looking away, not trying to avoid my gaze. She had not reacted, had not tried to defend herself.
I opened the door, pushed it open.
I couldn’t see her bed from the doorway. I stepped inside and was hit by the smell of Natalie, it was unmistakable. Sweet and light, not perfumed. It was more floral, like a hand cream or talcum powder. Something natural but I could imagine that it was soap. Skye used to have so many bottles of perfume, rows and rows of them stacked inside her dresser. French, designer, most of them imported. She didn’t even use them all. I was used to her smelling exotic and expensive.
Not like this.
This was Natalie.
There was the rustling of sheets, and I heard a soft sigh.
It was dark, nobody could see me.
I took a step closer, making out the shape of the bed and the body lying in it.
I was aware of being, suddenly, incredibly aroused.
It had been a while since I’d had an erection, mostly I didn’t even think about sex.
I tried to think of the last time I had been with a woman and seemed to recall some woman at a party I’d gone to a few weeks ago. I hadn’t wanted to go, but someone convinced me to come out and I knew I had to get out occasionally. It was important to network, to socialize, to hang out with people. I didn’t really enjoy it. These sorts of parties were full of people drinking too much, getting silly, taking drugs, and talking nonsense. A waste of time. I tried to go along with it, and usually after a few hours, I’d slip away. At the last one, I recalled some woman smiling at me. We went into another room, and she kissed me. I pushed her against the wall, and the whole sexual act was over in moments. Afterwards, she said she’d get us a drink. I waited for her to leave before leaving by another door, getting home as quickly as possible. I had no intention of calling her or seeing her again. I didn’t even know her name.
After the divorce, I avoided women mostly. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone.
The thought of getting married again and going through all of that, was enough to make me nauseous. Skye had spent months planning our wedding, agonizing over the guest list and who we should and should not invite. Then it was the venue and the food, and she tried to get me to come along and taste food and cake as if any of it made any difference. Our marriage hadn’t even lasted a year and it seemed to me as if the whole wedding ceremony was a farce. Occasionally, I would meet someone through work or at a dinner party and I would feel a spark of interest. But I never followed up. It felt like too much effort, so much hassle and for what? I could have sex anytime I wanted, whenever I wanted.
Thinking about sex, made me think about her.
Sex with Natalie.
I imagined Natalie lying naked in bed, her body curled like a girl’s. Her breasts, which I
remembered to be big and full, with the strawberry-colored nipples I had liked to rub hard. Her skin would be smooth and velvety, and I imagined running a hand over her back, lightly down her spine, even as she was still asleep. I would slow down as I reached her buttocks, then between her legs, and slip a finger inside of her. I knew she would be wet; Natalie was always wet when I touched her, warm and ready. She would stir, waking slowly, to me, inside of her, touching her, exactly where she liked to be touched, opening herself to me the way she used to open to me, fully, completely, all the way. She would arch her back and moan, wanting me even before she had woken up completely.
I had to get out of there.
I’d forgotten how much I had enjoyed having sex with her, how easy it used to be between us. She’d understood me and we never fought about anything. We’d been together for almost a year and in that time, there was hardly any disagreement. She never questioned me or my way of doing things. I was a senior; my studies were important to me. I told her about the company I wanted to start, my ideas, which back then, were still unformed. Our relationship had been good and until the day she had spoiled everything, I had been happy.
I turned around and walked out of her room, closing the door behind me. I went back to my room and masturbated to the image of Natalie in her bed, only a short distance away in her bed. It was the only way to get the thought of her out of my head.