From Curves and Twists

Copyright 2024 Ray Gregory

 

The Season

I’d gone over it so many times, I thought my head would split. Johnny standing in my driveway last night when I got home from work? So troubled, dejected, whatever it was he said. As soon as I gave him a half-concerned look, he hugged me till I awkwardly hugged him back. Was it just a teenage boy’s ploy to feel up an adult woman? Nothing made any sense.

All night I woke up sweating and panting, as Alan snoozed like a baby next to me. Alan, my lover throughout grad school, my loving husband the past four years. Yet I couldn’t get Johnny out of my mind, out of my dreams. Johnny, the boy from across the street, the thirteen-year-old kid? I could still smell his shaggy hair, feel his warm, moist breath on my neck, his bony young chest pressed against my breasts. And the things I imagined! What was wrong with me? I was an accountant, a no-nonsense professional, not one of those pathetic teachers or nannies who get sick sexual cravings for a child and end up in the news and prison. I hardly knew Johnny.

At work the next day, I scrunched over my desk, hugged myself as I tried to concentrate on the rows and columns of numbers glowing on my desktop’s screen.

My passion had always been numbers, their precision and certainty, the thrill of seeing them play out to their final decimal-point perfection, balancing every account to the last cent. But now... It was tax season, crunch time, and all I could think about was Johnny. How would I get my work done, take care of my clients, keep my business running?

By nine p.m. all six of my employees had trickled home. I should have been out the door myself after glancing into each office to make sure all was tidy and secure. Instead, I left the hallway lights on, crept back to my corner office, closed the door behind me. After snatching the window blinds shut to dim the garish glare from the towering parking lot lamps, I slipped off my patent pumps. I clutched a throw pillow to my chest, then stretched out face down on the sofa across from my desk and grind myself against its taut leather cushions. After a day of craving Johnny, I climaxed faster than ever, faster than I’d ever thought possible.

Sitting upright again, still panting in the faint light filtering through the blinds, I gazed at my wrinkled satin blouse, the splayed fly of my stretched wool trousers, my sensible pumps orphaned on the tan Berber carpet. Then a sly, accusing glint from my wedding band caught my eye. As much as I loved Alan, had he ever turned me on this much? How could I go home and spend another night in bed with him knowing Johnny was just across the street? Johnny sprawled on his bed, maybe in only his jockey shorts, even naked!

Alan would understand if I didn’t come home tonight. He was used to me working late during tax season. At twenty-eight I was the owner of my own accounting firm. Alan was a rising star in his law firm. His work was his passion too. We were both responsible and sensible, both above any kind of nonsense. I flicked my desk lamp on to clear my mind, decide what I’d say, what not to say. When I was ready, I picked up my phone.

Alan answered on the second ring, “Hey, still at work?”
“Alan, I’m so sorry.” I reminded him about the Chinese leftovers in the fridge from last night. I explained how I’d found discrepancies in one of my biggest corporate accounts. I had to work late tonight, maybe even pull an all-nighter this time. I had to double-check every line, every item. Everything had to be ready for presentation to the client tomorrow morning.

Thank God, Alan bought it. Maybe my nerves and desperation even gave my lies the ring of truth. My loving husband — God, I felt so guilty! — assured me he understood. It was all right, he said. Work came first. I had to do what I had to do.
Before he hung up, Alan added, “Oh, yeah, you know that weird kid across the street, Johnny I think his name is? He was looking for you tonight. Said something about you helping him with his math.”

“M — math?”

Alan snorted. “Yeah, like you have time to do his homework for him. I think the little prick’s got a thing for you, babe.” Alan chuckled. “If you want, I can get a restraining order.”

“Okay, honey, I, uh, I gotta get back to work. Seeya tomorrow, okay?” I hung up on the verge of tears.

What now? I planted my elbows on the desktop, cradled my head in my palms. My heart raced as Alan’s words reverberated in my head. Johnny wants me to help him! He has a thing for me!

I flinched when the phone rang a moment later. Alan calling back! Of course, he was no fool. Something in my voice had given me away. He sensed my deceit, my sexual tension, adultery oozing from my every pore. I had to tell him everything. My mind went into overdrive. Even with all his liberal understanding and compassion, what would Alan think? He was still a man. Lurid pictures of the desperate things men do when crazed by jealousy and humiliation crowded into my mind.

Get a grip, I ordered myself. Alan wasn’t like that. I couldn’t hide this from him. I had to bare my soul, admit everything. As hard as it would be, Alan would understand. He had to understand, had to believe it. Sudden obsessions like this actually happen. They aren’t just the stuff of cheap romance novels. I felt so guilty and ashamed as I dragged the phone to my ear. Yet I knew what I wanted, the only thing I wanted — Johnny.

“Hi — honey.”

There was silence. After agonizing seconds, a woman’s voice said, “This is Stella — your neighbor from across the street. We have to talk.”

“Wait, Johnny’s mother?” I hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID.

Her voice became firmer. “Yes, me, Stella. Johnny tells me everything. You know we need to talk.”

I gulped. “I, uh — I don’t know what Johnny told you, but — nothing happened between us. Nothing.”

“Johnny didn’t touch you?”

“I, uh — he only hugged me. I didn’t... I don’t…”

Stella’s voice softened. She even sounded friendly now. “Believe me, that’s all it takes. I’ll explain everything. There’s nothing to worry about, but we have to talk, right away. Can I come to your business? Now? I’ll be discreet. There are things you have to know about Johnny.”

I slouched back in my chair. “I, uh… Yes, sure.” She was Johnny’s mother. She wanted to talk to me about Johnny!

I hurried back to my office sofa, hugged the throw pillow again. I climaxed faster than before.