Home > life, writing > A Time To Fly (19)

A Time To Fly (19)

          “No, I can’t tonight,” Belinda lied.  She was eager to spend time with this gorgeous black man, but didn’t want to be too available.  He appeared to be a few years older than she was, he was obviously intelligent and courteous, and he was certainly one of the best looking men she’d ever seen.  And he was big.

          “Of course.  Foolish of me,” he said.  “When might be good for you?”

          “I’ll meet you at the sidewalk café across the street at seven-thirty tomorrow evening, if that’s good for you.”

          “That’s excellent for me,” he said.  “See you then.”  He strode happily toward the elevator that the bellhop had been holding for him.

Belinda sat in a comfortable lobby chair and opened the envelope that the desk clerk had handed her.  It was from Anna, Giuseppi’s housekeeper with whom Belinda had made love.  Belinda blushed at the memory… especially the memory of how much she had enjoyed it.  Still, she had to admit Giuseppi and Vincenzo had both pleased her more, and… she felt normal and natural with them.  With men.  Her mind went to Geoffrey Sarron.  She felt like a tramp, thinking about men and sex all the time.  On the other hand, she reminded herself, she was in Rome to break the bonds of boredom that had driven her life into a dark hole.  It wasn’t reasonable, she thought, to be forty-plus, to have a good, solid career, a beautiful, luxurious home, and still live a life that felt empty any time she was not at her job.  Belinda shook off her reverie and read Anna’s note.

Please call me.  I want to see you.

I need to see you.  I am not able

to stop thinking about you, Belinda.

Anna – 555-685-0307

Belinda crumpled the note and envelope in her palm and threw it into a trashcan she passed beside a marble pillar in the lobby, on her way to the elevator.  She was tired and happy, and thoughts of her return to normalcy were creeping into her mind.  She tried to shake them off, but she loved her job, and her boss, Maureen.  This adventure in Italy, with all the sensuality and excitement of food, sounds, sights, and sex was not what she desired as a permanent way of life.  It was a free and easy, open and uninhibited interlude, and while it was filled with bold pleasures, she would hate it as a steady diet.

In her room again, Belinda felt she’d returned to a safe sanctuary.  While she undressed and prepared for a long, luxurious shower, she thought about Geoffrey Sarron.  She said his name aloud, trying it on her tongue.

          “Geoffrey,” she said to the mirror while she dropped her clothes on the bed.  “Geoff,” she said.  “I wonder if he’d like me to call him Geoff… or Jeff… no, he’s definitely a Geoffrey.”  She looked at herself in the full length mirror.  Again, she was pleased with her appearance.  However, she had changed a bit.  There seemed to be more sensuality in her body.  She simply looked sexier.  Her posture had changed, and some intangible spirit within her was refreshed and eager for… sex?  No.  Not JUST sex.  Sex with love.  Lovemaking.  She wanted to make love with a man.  With Geoffrey Sarron.  She stepped into the shower and stood with her head back, face in the spray, warm water flowing over her taut black flesh, loosening her muscles, readying her for a good night’s sleep.

Belinda left the bathroom while she tied the thick, white, terrycloth bathrobe around herself.  She was startled when there was a knock at the door.

          “Who is it?” she said through the door.

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