Hump Days Ch. 7 *Emotional Masseuse*
Thursday, February 24, 2011 by PointOfLu | No Comments | Category: Entertainment
I couldn’t begin to explain how I was feeling at the moment, besides stating that I was battling a puzzling collage of different emotions. I was satisfied, happy- yet confused, and still wanting. I’d just finished eating a delicious home cooked meal, and was currently sitting in a steaming bubble bath- both prepared by my boyfriend, Toure.
He was the perfect gentleman tonight; doing everything in his power to make me feel wanted, appreciated and comfortable. Though this may sound like the perfect situation to plenty of women, it just didn’t have the same effect on me…anymore.
What was wrong?
The rose petals from the dining room led to his bedroom, and continued toward the candlelit bathroom where steam rose up and danced among the bubbly water. Toure moved his laptop computer into the bedroom, and now Dwele’s voice accompanied Toure’s pleasing actions.
I want to do something special for you if you don’t mind…something real lovely…
Toure sat on the toilet reading a Creative Loafing newspaper as I lay inside of the warm, soothing mini-abyss. Though there wasn’t much space, I told Toure that he should join me. He declined, insisting that he wanted me to take as much time and space as needed.
I didn’t have much to choose from.
Little did he know, I hated bubble baths. I saw nothing sexy about sitting inside of a cement tub and soaking alongside your own dirt.
Though everything that he did for me was sweet, I still felt as if something else was still missing.
“How’s school going?” I needed to shift my attention from my mixed emotions, attempt to go with the flow and just accept what was being given to me.
“It’s the same shit, different day. I’m going to keep trying though.” Toure sighed. His desire to change the subject was obvious. “You’re kind of an inspiration. How’s grad school?”
“We haven’t really started anything yet, but I’m excited to begin.” I wrung out a washcloth. “The feeling of accomplishment kind of has me hooked.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Toure laughed. “It seems like it was just yesterday when we took that English class together.”
“Yeah, it does.” It didn’t. I felt as if there was plenty of time and space for us to grow apart- as we seemed to be doing. “How’s work?”
A loud knock on the bedroom door interrupted Toure’s response. He rolled his eyes before standing up, leaving the bathroom and walking toward the bedroom door.
There was no doubt in my mind about Toure’s love for me…
…but did I still love him?
“Forward backwards kick flip bedroom bonanza!”
“What the fuck?”
“What the fuck’ is not a sex position!”
“Neither is whatever the hell you said!”
“How are you to tell me what I’m doing in the bedroom? Have we fucked?”
“If we did, I clearly don’t remember it!”
Sexual positions, curse words, colors, and luxury car names circled the room as we all sat in couches, bar stools and whatever else we could fit our bottoms on around a deck of cards that we formed into a circle.
Ryan sat across from me, looking sexier every second.
Or, maybe I was just becoming more inebriated every second.
He’d taken off his blazer, undid his bow-tie and was slouched in the loveseat holding a drink. I loved a guy who knew when to take off his cool and relax.
“I don’t even remember who’s supposed to drink, now.” I exclaimed.
“Both of you, drink!” Ashley pointed her finger toward Antoine- the guy who argued me down about my imaginary sex position, and I. Unfortunately, the same hand that she pointed with held her drink as well. Coconut Ciroc and pineapple juice splashed onto the table, soaking a couple more cards.
Most of the playing cards were already irreparably soaked in liquors and mixers.
“Hell no! You’re about to drink for that shit!” I tried to peek into her cup. “Need a refill?”
The game was Ring of Fire, and all of us were being burned. Bottles were empty, clothes were missing, bowls were cashed and joint roaches lay crushed inside of a certain shot glass that we deemed a temporary ashtray. It was almost midnight, yet every person at the gathering was recreating happy hour.
“Nope! I need a card, though.” Ashley pulled another card. It wasn’t even her turn!
“How was the trip down from LA?” Ashley glared at me.
“What time are we popping the champagne?” I slung my glance toward Ryan.
“When does Ashley want to?” Ryan looked at his friend.
“Uh-I don’t know, ask her!” Brad stumbled over his words.
“Drink!” The rest of us screamed in unison.
Brad bashfully smiled and took a sip of his drink.
“I want a birthday blunt!” Ashley suddenly cried out. “I’m tired of those damn papers for right now. It’s my birthday. Give me a nice, long, thick one!”
“That’s what he said.” I yelled back at her.
I caught Ryan’s smirk.
“Seriously, though. Can we put one in the air at 12?” Ashley pressed. “I want a glass of Moet, and a blunt in my other hand to pass around with those I care most for.”
“So, you want to bring in your birthday by killing yourself with cancer papers?” I pressed back.
“Whatever!” Ashley stood up to make her point. “Smoking is smoking- whether it’s from a paper, blunt, bong or pipe! It’s all unhealthy. But it feels great!”
“I’m still high, guys.” Ryan began. “I can’t smoke a blunt. I don’t smoke much anymore, and that stuff you have has taken me to another dimension!”
“Northern Lights, man!” I accepted his compliment. “I’m glad you like it. Anything from Cali is good for you.”
I caught another smirk.
As time prolonged and the spirits got settled, Ryan seemed to become more and more comfortable. There were times that I’d catch him glancing over at me a little longer than he should, as well as moments that we’d grin at each other for no apparent reason. There was no doubt in my mind that he may be interested- or curious, at least.
“If you just must have your nasty, cancerous blunt, I’m going to need to make a store run.” I said. “I’m not going alone, though. Who’s coming with?”
Nobody seemed excited about that proclamation. I’m sure they’ll be excited once I light up the blunt though, right? Lames.
“I’m way too fucked up to drive anywhere.” Ryan said. “And I love my life way too much to ride with your drunk ass.”
“Well guess what, Ryan.” I set up the trap. “We’re walking. The store is right down the street.”
“Damnit. May I gather my thoughts first before we make such a commitment?”
“Take your time.” I walked to the bedroom to grab my wallet, and straighten myself up.
To fail to plan is to plan to fail, and I planned on getting what I wanted.
I opened the door to expose Ralph’s goofy grin- as expected.
I’d been living with Ralph for about six months now, and a new reason to move out arose every single day. Besides his oblivious attitude toward societal norms, imaginative answers for everything and his inability to just shut up- Ralph was a pro at being in the wrong places at the wrong time. Or is it right places at the wrong time? Because if it’s the right time, why would something wrong happen? Unless it was rightfully wrong…?
I’m usually a person with enough patience to pass around, but Ralph just had a special way of getting under your skin, and right onto your nerves.
Did I mention that he was almost 40 years old?
“Can I help you?” I didn’t want to exude a bad attitude, but Ralph was interrupting something that was very special to me.
Right now things were perfect, so any type of disturbance was intolerable.
“I’m not trying to come in between anything…” His nosy eyes looked beyond me and into the bedroom. “I just wanted to let you know that you should try putting shredded cheese on your meat sauce next time.”
“You tried the spaghetti?”
“Yeah, I just had a little bit. It was good, but some cheese melted on top would have made it that much better!”
“Thank you, Ralph.” I started to close the door, and I planned to state, ‘I’d love to discuss more ways to make my food that I didn’t cook for you to eat more tasty, but I’m currently in the middle of something.’
All that came out was, “I’m currently in the middle of something.”
“Oh, I see!” Ralph winked his eye. “I’ll let you tend to your business, bro.”
“Thank you very much.” I locked the door after closing it shut, and turned around to witness Angela’s head poking out from the bathroom.
“Where are your towels?”
“I’ll bring you one, baby. Are you done?” I didn’t want her to get out of the bath just yet. I wanted to be there when she was ready, so that I could set up my next plan before bringing her a towel.
Time to improvise.
I grabbed a clean towel from my drawer and returned to the bathroom.
“I don’t want to turn into a raisin!” Angela stood in front of me dressed in nothing other than a shower cap, and beads of water. “Who was at the door?”
“Ralph.” I handed her the towel, and pulled away my stare. “He was just doing the usual.”
“Poor Ralph.” Angela laughed. “He needs friends.”
“Tell me about it.” I retreated toward the bathroom door. “Give me a minute, baby. The night isn’t over yet!”
I took a few candles from the bathroom, and placed them around the bedroom in order to give me just enough radiance to see what I was doing without turning on the light. I grabbed some vanilla crème baby oil, a hand towel and a condom.
What? Did you really believe that making love wasn’t etched into my plans tonight?
I placed the oil on the desk beside the bed, rested the hand towel over my shoulder and put the condom under a pillow.
I called Angela into the room, and told her to lie on the bed with her stomach facing down. I lubricated my hands with oil, and began to give her a deep full body massage- starting from her feet, slowly working a firm, even pressure toward her shins, and then to her thighs.
Pleased moans escaped her lips and met my ears, immediately transferring her satisfaction.
If she was happy, I was happy.
“How does that feel?” I asked as I started to press down on her lower back, slowly using my thumbs and palms to release any tension or discomfort that may reside.
“Amazing.” She whispered.
I moved from her lower back toward her shoulders, making sure to take my time with each muscle and keeping my hands lubricated to reduce the friction.
Throughout most of the night, something remained plastered onto my thoughts. Though I tried to hide it, I had to address it before it became a larger issue.
“Do you still love me, Angela?” I moved her hair, and slowly massaged her upper back, and neck.
There was no response.
I leaned over to look into her face, and saw that her eyes were shut. My question was greeted by the steady breathing of Angela’s sleeping body.
I kissed her forehead, put away the lotion, wiped my hands with the towel and made myself comfortable beside her- being sure to not interrupt her slumber.
I hope you enjoyed the 7th chapter of my weekly short story series, Hump Days! If you happened to miss the 6th installment- or just need to refresh your memory, CLICK HERE! Stay tuned for the 8th chapter next Wednesday…ish!
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I’m thinking of changing the name to “Hump Daze” as a play on words, and reflection on some of the characters. What do you guys think? I’d need to make a new banner, and I guess that will give me another chance to actually have a nice one! Lol…