An Empty Bed

The soft purr of a stray cat was enough to wake her from her light and restless slumber. She turns in bed, reaching out to the other side and then finally to the edge. Empty. She turns back, this time reaching onto her side and flicks on the bedside lamp. 3:00 am. Perhaps the meeting lingered on. Maybe his boss decided to buy a couple of rounds. There are a number of reasons why he still wasn’t home, but none of them felt real enough. She turns the lamp back off and snuggles deeper under the covers not wanting to face the cold air eating at her skin.

 

This time it was the sound of two cats. Two cats going at it. The purrs are purrs no more, but shrill, heart-wrenching, raw cries of two felines f*****g in the middle of the night like it was nobody’s business. The sound wakes her up, making her skin crawl. She takes her pillow and clamps it over her head, desperately trying to block out the noise. But it doesn’t stop, they go on and on and on. Finally she hears them climax. The end is near, she thinks. And then…silence. She sighs with…satisfaction? Relief? Does it matter? She turns the lamp on and the time is 5:00 am and her bed is still empty and much colder. She grabs the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, takes a stick and lights it. She exhales and watches the lace of white smoke escaping her lips and curling in front of her. The scent of smog sticking to the air reminds her of him. Where could he be at this time, she wonders.

 

A few hours go by…then

Footsteps. And the pungent smell of smoke and whiskey muddled together wakes her up a third time. He is back. She turns in bed and sees a robust figure attempting its way to the bed. The shadow tramples on what looked like it’s own limbs and crumples to the floor, heaving heavily. She sits up, afraid. Finally she crawls out of bed and onto the floor to where the grown man lays panting. A drunk. She takes him by the shoulders, and helps him trample to the edge of the bed. 6:30 am and the dawn is breaking. Streaks of light penetrate through the window exposing the tears on the man’s face. She wipes them away with  her mouth, tenderly making her way down the side of his face grazing his ear and then the nape of his neck, hungry for love. His hands trace her legs from her knees up to her hips. He pulls down her underwear with longing and purpose. He then takes her�"all of her, driven only by base instinct. She starts to purr. First softly and then it turns into a high piercing cry. On and on the sound goes, until finally a stop, a grunt. He turns onto his side. And it’s over.

Reviews

[NoelHC]

This story could be expanded on a bit, I would have liked to see more of it.
I like the way you have tied the cats' noises during sex with the humans shortly after, everything brought down to a basic, primal need being fulfilled.
Well done.