25.5.2009
2
2
It was just past midnight. He crept up the stairs and stopped in front of the door into Merilyn's apartment. He listened and was nervous. He wore his bathrobe. He gripped the doorknob. When he felt the door open, his excitement grew, and he felt strange inside. A thought flashed through his mind that he was committing a sacrilege, that he was an insignificant wretch who was taking advantage of his situation to wound and injure a person who did not deserve it. The next moment he was convinced that she had understood him and would receive him. She probably was expecting him to come, would even be disappointed if he did not come.
But why had he not spoken directly to her about this? He easily could have just made a pass at her. Then he would not have to sneak around like a thief in the night. He noticed more keenly than ever before the special smell of the home. Weak illumination streamed through the living room window from a street lamp outside. He inched across the floor toward the bedroom. He was clear in his mind. He knew exactly what he was going to do. He felt sure that she was awake and listening to him. He would go up to the bed, letting his robe fall to the floor. He would lift the covers and slip under them next to her. He knew his mind and knew precisely where the headboard was.
Then he opened the door and listened. He heard her breathing. With the next breath, it happened. The robe lay on the floor. He slipped naked under the covers and at the same instant that he felt the woman's naked, hot body she made a low, but definite sound. John whisked himself right back out of bed, and while he was feeling around on the floor for his robe, she stood in front of the bed and brushed her hands across the sheet as if she was sweeping off some dirt or was checking whether the man had ejaculated on the sheet. A moment later John was back downstairs.