I shared these feelings with my new friend one day. We were coming from our last viewing, where the client once again said he would think it over and call us back. Well, that’s a common occurrence. Adelaide was unusually quiet, clearly worried, and suggested we go to a cafe. I started to wonder if something had happened to her.
“I have an idea. Let’s go to my home, you’ll tell me everything there,” I suggested.
I was happy: an evening not alone—that’s great! And so the silence of the empty house was broken by our voices. I went to put the kettle on.
“There’s some work being done in our building, and there’s no hot water. Can I take a shower at your place?” Adelaide said.
“Of course!” I brought her a clean towel.
Somehow, I had never been in Adelaide’s home. I didn’t really know why she was alone. As soon as I tried to start a conversation on this topic, she deftly steered it toward something more relevant.
Why doesn’t she like to talk about herself?I wondered.
Then a brilliant idea came to me: to get her a little drunk—I had a bottle of good wine. People are more frank when they’ve had a few drinks. And then maybe she would tell me something about herself. And she could even stay the night ifnecessary; the children’s room is free, or she could sleep in the living room. Why hadn’t this idea occurred to me before?
So, while Adelaide was splashing around in the shower, I got out the bottle of wine and made some light snacks.
Coming out of the shower wrapped in a single towel, Adelaide began to speak.
“I won’t get dressed yet. I’ll dry off, you don’t mind…” she froze in the doorway of the kitchen, seeing the laid table, “…do you,” she automatically finished the sentence she had started and looked at me strangely with shining eyes.
“Don’t be surprised. I just remembered that I have a bottle of good wine. Well, I can’t drink it alone! So I decided we could celebrate the start of my work and drink with our acquaintance, even though more than a month has passed. Or don’t you drink?” I smiled.
Somehow this thought hadn’t occurred to me before, and I was worried that I should have offered first, and only then set the table.
“No, of course I drink. In moderation,” Adelaide quickly added, as if I might suspect her of being a heavy drinker. I found it funny.
“Well, sit down at the table then, lady-alcoholic.” I giggled.
We sat and chatted about all sorts of things: we shared our hobbies, discussed work-related issues or people, exchanged opinions about movies we’d watched and books we’d read, then jumped to music and places we’d like to visit. Almost the same as before, when she used to come to see me. Only now we had both had some wine, and Adelaide was looking at me in a way that somehow made my heart beat faster. And somehow this whole gathering made me feel excited, as if something was expected of me. For some reason, I realized she was only wearing a towel, and I felt awkward.
“Let me give you a robe, and you can stay the night. I can make up a bed for you in the children’s room or the living room.”
I got up and went to the bedroom to get one of my many housecoats. As I was rummaging through the hangers, I suddenly felt Adelaide’s hands on my shoulders. I flinched in surprise, wanting to turn around, but then her soft breasts pressed against my back.
“Listen. Don’t look back. Just close your eyes. And trust me,” a whisper rustled near my ear.
There was something in her voice that made me decide not to resist the request. Or was it the wine that had taken effect?
It doesn’t matter,I thought, closing my eyes and feeling Adelaide kissing my neck, her arms encircling me in an embrace.
Goosebumps ran across my body and disappeared, leaving every cell of my skin in anticipation of something unusual, unfamiliar, and excitingly forbidden. I exhaled—and when had I held my breath? I tilted my head back and placed my palms on top of Adelaide’s hands.
My God, what are we doing?!I thought with sweet horror. But I didn’t want to resist at all. Sometimes it happens like this: you realize that it’s not good, it’s wrong, but you still do it. I turned around in the circle of her arms and looked into my friend’s crazy eyes, which looked at me with desperate expectation, straight into the depths of my soul.
She caught something there, because she suddenly smiled happily and kissed me, both tenderly and passionately at the same time. It felt like I was hugging and kissing for the first time in my life.
My lips responded to the kiss and continued the action that hadn’t been initiated by me but was so desirable now.
I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, and I didn’t want to know. All I wanted now was to kiss, hug, caress, and stroke the firm, young body in my arms. And let everythingelse go to hell! Adelaide’s bold fingers skillfully unfastened the buttons, snaps, and hooks on my clothes, helping me shed the unnecessary garments.
We fell onto the bed; thankfully it was nearby. I felt the excitingly unfamiliar silk of a woman’s skin under my palms; my fingers tangled in her long hair—it turned out to be wonderful. My eyes were lost in her reciprocal, hazy gaze.
“Elizabeth, you are my joy, my happiness, my darling, my sunshine, I’ve been looking for you for so long, my beloved, from the very first second, my desired one, unique.” The words flowed into my consciousness like music.
My God! I wouldn’t have been able to recall so many affectionate words at once, and even more so, I had never heard so many, even from my husband. Now he seemed so impossibly distant, as if in another life.
And only Adelaide’s voice, lips, and hands were authentic and desirable now. Every cell of my body responded to her skillful touches, as if she knew exactly where, what, and how. It was reckless—desperate courage on my part and long-suppressed passion on hers.
