Him and Her.

A Story by Kalex Cross

“Tell me what you feel.” He whispered.
“Pain.” Was the gurgled response from the women whose saliva was gathering in her open mouth, throat constricting to gasp for air.
His hands, so strong and used to work, were wrapped securely about the tearful blond's slender throat. Heavy breathing came from both laborers, hers being in the need for air and his from such ragged pleasure he was deriving from their situation. Chuckling quietly he pressed his forehead down against her own, fingertips turning white as he squeezed harder. Arching her bound body from the bed screams raked over her form to only be emitted as long hissing whistles.
She blinked twice.
That was the sign. He released her neck immediately, hands sliding across her nude chest, resting there to feel her body lift heavily while she took back in a steady flow of air. When the woman had finally settled into a relaxed state he untied her arms and legs allowing for her to stretch lazily over the bed.
Turning around he ran a hand through his dark messy hair and grabbed his jeans. Shoving them on while the blond covered herself with the pure white sheets that seemed to dominate the large bed with such a virginal color.
“That's a hundred for the time.” He said, reaching into a pocket to pull out a cigarette, lighting it before taking a drag. Standing up he walked over towards the woman's vanity.
“A hundred? The deal is fifty.” She sat up in mock outrage, her middle-aged body propped up against the headboard.
“I stayed over an hour. You took longer than normal.” As was usual to his visits with the woman he took a moment of peace while she cleaned herself off and flounced about the bedroom in a flimsy silk robe to get his money to mainly stare at the pictures of her family. All the frames that were aligned perfectly on her vanity seemed so elegantly adorned with a professional photo. Her wedding day. Her first child. Grandchild. Her husband. The man that wasn't dead. That couldn't please her.
“Here take it and get out. You have been coming to me for months, changing your price now is rather insulting.” She spat out, crossing her arms like the action would plump up her sagging breasts.
He just smiled at her and slid back into his shirt. Walking over to the woman who had become his Tuesday night customer for the past three months, he wrapped his arms around her plump body. His muscles were throbbing from the long strenuous adventure they had just done on her bed, and he was sure she could feel the hardness of him hit her pelvis.
She melted.
As usual.
Kissing the top of her graying hair, he stepped away and headed out the door, pocketing the money before leaving to go back to his apartment. On his way down the street, a silver Pontiac turned into the driveway of the house he had just left. Her husband was home. Little did she know that her own husband was his Friday night playmate.
Ah, the wiles of the rich and wicked.