The City Lights
His lips taste of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. They press against mine, tempting, teasing. After a few minutes of the usual tongue-to-tongue tussle, I turn my face away. His mouth moves down my neck, pausing at my clavicle. He gives it a tiny nip and then continues down till he’s kissing at my breasts. His hands join in and suddenly his callused hands are caressing me, trying to illicit some sort of pleasure.
I give the appropriate moans, and soon his hands have moved to my arched back. He seems enchanted by my smooth, soft skin.
Time passes. I don’t keep track if it anymore. Sometimes, the lovemaking would take an hour. Sometimes it would only take a few, explosive minutes. What difference was there? The end result was inevitable. His moans echo in my pounding head. Why had I let him give me that wine? I am so thirsty, and my mouth tastes like cotton.
He’s asleep seconds afterwards, his tanned body thrown across the white pillows. I can’t help but marvel at the artistic contrast he makes. I move as quietly as ever, sliding away from his snoring mass, my feet gently padding across the carpeted floor until they stop in front of the window.
I push the curtains aside. The lights of the city are beautiful tonight. They always are. Dreams are borne from those lights and then oftentimes crushed moments later. It happened that way for thousands: I am only one of them.
I shake my head, and clear my hazy thoughts. My reminiscing is done for now. My eyes flicker back to the man who is sleeping quite peacefully.
I have a good life. I am beautiful, and money is never short. I can get what I want at the merest request. Things hadn’t turned out like I once thought they would, not with him. Not with any of them. Things are good, though. I don’t have to worry about how to take care of myself or my child.
This thought consoles me as I pick up my clothing, dressing silently. My purse waited for me beside the door, the wad of cash still lying on top. I leave the cheap hotel room without a second glance.