Charly's Language

Motivate Me

I woke up on the sofa that Saturday morning, alone, sweating and naked. I couldn't believe I slept over.

I rapidly put my clothes on, stepping into the kitchen where she was sitting with a book in front of her, sipping coffee in the black negligee.

"Morning," I murmured to not startle her.

"Morning."

I realized then that while she was perfectly comfortable attacking me naked, she had trouble looking at me any other time.

"There is coffee in the pot," she pointed over the counter.

"Thanks."

I helped myself to some, I drank leaning on the counter, observing her as I stumbled upon the kitchen's clock.

"Shit! It's almost twelve."

"So?"

"I have training at twelve. I better go."

"I'll take you, I have to go by the library"

She dressed into another of those tiny dresses, and we left. It was hot outside, she put on her sunglasses as I was dreading the idea of training in that heat.

"Do you want to...give it a spin?" she shook the keys in her hand. I nodded, smiling, and she threw them at me, getting on the passenger seat. That was fun, but not as fun as getting out of the car with her. She came to me to say goodbye and shoved her tongue inside my mouth. As I fondled her lower back, I wrenched her dress up by accident, I felt her bare skin, and, as I let go, I noticed some people watching. What a couple of show-offs we used to be.

That was by far the best practice I had ever had, I was pumped up, I felt all-powerful: I had it all in my hand. Even the coach pulled me aside to give me a word and said if I kept going that way, he'd let me play in the first game. And she was going to help me with the paperwork, I was on top of the world. My teammates kept inviting me out, but all I could think of was seeing her again.

I guess she must have been feeling the same. As I stepped out of the arena, she was waiting for me outside, sitting in the car, smoking a joint.

"There she is," I said, smiling stupidly.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Awesome," I answered, leaning on her car door, my arms crossed, placing my face close to hers. "Want to do something?"

She beamed at me. "Like?"

"I don't know." She watched me for a moment, her eyes topped with intentions.

"My building has a pool no one uses," she suggested.

"Sold," I replied, it was still hot enough to swim.

There was no one there, and it was as relaxing and refreshing as promised. In the corner of the pool was a hot tube, we sat in it with glass bottles we weren't supposed to have. She took her top off as I placed my arm on her shoulders, my hand falling, stroking her forearm.

"Why do you live here?"

"Because I'm used to being alone. I don't like the constant noise."

"It is nice and quiet."

"I get in a very bad mood if I don't have my own space."

"What does your family do?"

I felt a sudden, deep, sharp inhale.

"I don't have much family, only my sister." I listened carefully, she got quiet, but she saw me waiting, she continued. "My mother died when I was little, my father when I was fifteen. He was in the oil business, so he left us set up for life really."