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Uncomfortable for Two

Uncomfortable for Two Synopsis

In this moment, she instantly realized, she no longer wanted him anymore.


She woke up. Startled and gasping for air. With difficult effort, she struggled to catch her breath. Her dilated eyes scanned the room.

It wasn’t a dream.

She felt his warm, heavy hand touch her cold thigh. Gently, she climbed over him. Just enough to make minimal skin contact. This was her move. The one she made every time she spent the night. This wasn’t even that much – two, three times a month.

It was to awaken him without seeming like she was waking him. She knew he loved it. She knew it turned him on. The soft touch of her thighs against the sides of his stomach as she solicitously climbed over him.

She came back from the bathroom, stood in the middle of the doorway and stared at him. He had sprawled out and was asleep on his stomach. She almost forgot how much bigger he was. He was nearly a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier. She was always conscious of this, yet in bed, she forgot.

He used to play football in college. He received a scholarship to play quarterback. Although it had been more than ten years since, his body still held to its athletic shape.

She was a dancer: slender, slim and toned. She hadn’t danced in a few years and had gained weight. But it didn’t really matter. The weight had distributed proportionally and it made her look more like a woman.

She quivered. She felt a peculiar, gravitational pull from her chest towards the inviting bed. He looked peaceful, gentle and… And oddly familiar. Yet she knew, within hours, when morning came, this tranquil moment would be rudely interrupted.

He was funny, witty and sarcastic, but in a non-threatening manner. It was the kind of humor she always found attractive. But now that she had a taste of it, she didn’t trust it. It was only moments like these, when he didn’t feel the need to impress, she yearned.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled as his hand caressed her thigh.

“I have to go,” she reached for her skirt.

“Why? Stay…”

She noticed how his enormous hand covered her entire leg. He still hadn’t moved.

“You just want to fuck me ten more times before you have to go to work.”

“Exactly,” his hand crept towards her slender waist and pulled her towards him.

She loved sleeping on his chest. Falling asleep on his chest. She loved the monotony their breathing took within seconds of being near each other.

He made her feel safe and, for mere seconds, she felt he would take care of her. Watch over her. And maybe one day, even love her.

His hands crawled from the back of her thighs up towards the curve of her ass… And reality sunk in.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” His eyes finally opened, yet he remained lying down.

She had practiced this scene in her head over and over again. It was somewhat premeditated. She knew exactly what she was going to say but had only speculated how he would respond.

But at this very moment, she couldn’t open her mouth. She wanted nothing more than to continue with this scene, but all of a sudden she felt a massive weight on her tongue and therefore could no longer move.

The slight pause had now become an uncomfortable one. By now, she wanted to scream and cry and rage her response but instead, weak silence seeped out between her lips.

“What do you have to do tomorrow?”

She loathed this question. It was never asked in the form of a question but rather said as a statement. It was unclear if the condescending tone was intentional or not.

This question only reminded her of all the vast differences between them. Their age, their occupations, their way of living, their views on life… It heightened and alerted her insecurities – particularly her insecurities when she was with him.

This question made her furious. It reminded her how cocky he could be at times. How the thin line of confidence and arrogance could so easily be blurred by charm.

“I don’t like waking up here. It fucks up my whole day.”

“Really?” He sat up and stared. She couldn’t make out the look in his eyes but she felt it nonetheless.

“Sorta,” She felt guilty for what she had said, “I can’t stay over because… Every time I stay… I get a little more attached…” Vulnerability had crept in and her voice began to sound distant, “… And I know you don’t want that.”

She had finally said it. This was as far as the scene went in her head. She was timid about his response. She thought there would be a long pause and it would begin a new discussion. One of those night time talks that only happened in the darkness of night.

But there was no pause. Not even a slight one. He responded hastily, “It’s not that… It’s just… Well… We have such crazy lives… With work… “

She had tuned out the moment he began talking. All she could see was the vague movement of his mouth. This mouth she longed for had quickly transformed into something she despised.

Suddenly, she became aware of her nakedness in front of a man she barely knew. He didn’t know but a few weeks ago she was late with her period. She felt ashamed. It wasn’t as if she was impregnated by her boyfriend, someone whom she had a loving, committed, monogamous relationship. Instead, she was pregnant by… By this man… This man she barely knew… This man who had no title.

A week later, she got her period and swore him off. After all, the sex wasn’t worth the consequences of shame. She knew he didn’t love her or cared about her. Although, he seemed nice, he was quite selfish. His work ruled his world and everyone and everything came after. She wanted to be the one that changed him. Not intentionally, but rather inspire him to change on his own. Come to the realization that life encompasses so much more than just work. However, after hours of fucking and sleeping during those callous nights, she was certain she would and could never inspire him to do anything.

He finally took his pause. By this time, she had already thought about how she would be feeling next week.

“I like you. Just stay… Please?”

She wanted nothing more than to take her clothes off, leap into bed and sleep - Arm in arm, leg in leg. But she knew once the sun rose, she would feel cold and lonely. She would feel foolish for falling into the trap of those night time talks. Those talks that never meant a thing by dawn.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… It’s because I can’t. There’s a huge difference.”

She knew how dramatic that sounded but she didn’t care. It was the truth. She knew he wasn’t used to hearing the truth. He liked playing games. It kept him on his toes. It quickened his wit. It was a great source of entertainment during his minimal time off from work.

He didn’t need to explain any further.

She picked up her bag and walked towards the door. She pitied him. The bed no longer looked warm and enticing. It looked bleak and desolate. And she pitied it.

Besides, it was a small bed… Uncomfortable for two.

cupogratitude (Rate Passer) added to this story on Tue, Jul 14 2009 17:25:01 EST
Print Uncomfortable for Two
Genre: Drama
Created: 07-14-2009
Word Count: 1442

Copyright © 2008-2019 cupogratitude. All rights reserved.

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