For a moment, she seems to forget that Leandro is in front of her. She chews gum. Leandro gets up to kiss her and gets a strong waft of strawberry breath. She doesn’t move her mouth away, but she kisses him without passion, hiding the gum between her teeth.
Leandro hugs her and finishes undressing her. She laughs, without arousal, distant. I’ll do it, lie down. Leandro obeys, going over to the bed. She is in control of the situation. Leandro tries to defy her authority because he finds no pleasure in her series of mechanical caresses. Do you want to fuck? she asks. Leandro feels ridiculous. He wants to make the encounter intimate, but he realizes that she refuses to break with her routine. She would rather everything be predictable, flat, professional. Leandro senses there could be a more distant, hidden pleasure, but he is forbidden access to that place. She chews gum, her thoughts far from there. It is obvious Leandro isn’t managing to excite her as he rubs her sex, more like industrial than erotic manipulation. Come on, grandpa, she says. As if that’s going to encourage him. A bad mood overtakes Leandro. That’s okay, forget about that, she says and sits on the bed.
He wants to leave. What am I doing here? he asks himself. Her eyes look empty, as if nothing matters much to her.
The situation is then uncomfortable for them both. I suck, she says. No, says Leandro. He sits behind her and hugs her tightly to his chest. He caresses her arms and stomach. She tries to move, to change position and get back to the routine, but Leandro doesn’t let her. She only wants the client to come. It is the only way she has of understanding her job. Like a craft. Shedoesn’t aspire to get into his head. In fact it makes her uncomfortable to know Leandro is after something more than just an orgasm.
Leandro buries his face among Osembe’s bands of hair. She laughs as if he were tickling her. She doesn’t understand how he can find pleasure in running his hands over her back, her shoulders, in traveling the entire length of her body with his fingertips and resisting penetration. He, on the other hand, knows that that is what brought him back.
Early that afternoon, he had accompanied Luis, his student, to a store that sells used pianos where he knew the owners. It was an appointment they had scheduled a while ago. The owner was very friendly and the boy didn’t dare try out the pianos. Leandro did it for him. They had a price limit. My parents won’t let me spend more. Don’t worry, Leandro told him, we’ll find something good for that amount. They went to another store and there Leandro noticed a perfectly restored black upright piano that was less than thirteen hundred euros. He played it for a moment. It sounds wonderful, he said. As he ran his finger over its smooth black wood, Leandro knew that, as hard as he fought his desire to meet Osembe again at the chalet, that very afternoon he would go there again. And then he was overcome with an enthusiasm that his student and the salesman misinterpreted. Ah, Don Leandro still has the same passion for music as he did when we met. And it’s been almost thirty years now, hasn’t it?
Leandro had lost some of the enthusiasm he’d had earlier, even though now he was touching the skin he craved. He noticed a long scar beside the crease in Osembe’s elbow. Thewound intrigued him. Perhaps an accident in the village, a wild animal. Her dangerous childhood in Africa.
I got caught in an elevator when I was a little girl, she explained. In a department store.
And he busies himself with the rough skin on her elbow for a long while. Then he puts his fingers on her shaven sex. He feels the sandpaper of her pubic hair and how she tightens her strong muscles to impede his access. You want to fuck? Time’s running out, says Osembe. Leandro notices she’s uncomfortable with being touched. And he doesn’t want to do anything but touch her. He discovers her ugly feet, with twisted toes
Leandro hugs her and finishes undressing her. She laughs, without arousal, distant. I’ll do it, lie down. Leandro obeys, going over to the bed. She is in control of the situation. Leandro tries to defy her authority because he finds no pleasure in her series of mechanical caresses. Do you want to fuck? she asks. Leandro feels ridiculous. He wants to make the encounter intimate, but he realizes that she refuses to break with her routine. She would rather everything be predictable, flat, professional. Leandro senses there could be a more distant, hidden pleasure, but he is forbidden access to that place. She chews gum, her thoughts far from there. It is obvious Leandro isn’t managing to excite her as he rubs her sex, more like industrial than erotic manipulation. Come on, grandpa, she says. As if that’s going to encourage him. A bad mood overtakes Leandro. That’s okay, forget about that, she says and sits on the bed.
He wants to leave. What am I doing here? he asks himself. Her eyes look empty, as if nothing matters much to her.
The situation is then uncomfortable for them both. I suck, she says. No, says Leandro. He sits behind her and hugs her tightly to his chest. He caresses her arms and stomach. She tries to move, to change position and get back to the routine, but Leandro doesn’t let her. She only wants the client to come. It is the only way she has of understanding her job. Like a craft. Shedoesn’t aspire to get into his head. In fact it makes her uncomfortable to know Leandro is after something more than just an orgasm.
Leandro buries his face among Osembe’s bands of hair. She laughs as if he were tickling her. She doesn’t understand how he can find pleasure in running his hands over her back, her shoulders, in traveling the entire length of her body with his fingertips and resisting penetration. He, on the other hand, knows that that is what brought him back.
Early that afternoon, he had accompanied Luis, his student, to a store that sells used pianos where he knew the owners. It was an appointment they had scheduled a while ago. The owner was very friendly and the boy didn’t dare try out the pianos. Leandro did it for him. They had a price limit. My parents won’t let me spend more. Don’t worry, Leandro told him, we’ll find something good for that amount. They went to another store and there Leandro noticed a perfectly restored black upright piano that was less than thirteen hundred euros. He played it for a moment. It sounds wonderful, he said. As he ran his finger over its smooth black wood, Leandro knew that, as hard as he fought his desire to meet Osembe again at the chalet, that very afternoon he would go there again. And then he was overcome with an enthusiasm that his student and the salesman misinterpreted. Ah, Don Leandro still has the same passion for music as he did when we met. And it’s been almost thirty years now, hasn’t it?
Leandro had lost some of the enthusiasm he’d had earlier, even though now he was touching the skin he craved. He noticed a long scar beside the crease in Osembe’s elbow. Thewound intrigued him. Perhaps an accident in the village, a wild animal. Her dangerous childhood in Africa.
I got caught in an elevator when I was a little girl, she explained. In a department store.
And he busies himself with the rough skin on her elbow for a long while. Then he puts his fingers on her shaven sex. He feels the sandpaper of her pubic hair and how she tightens her strong muscles to impede his access. You want to fuck? Time’s running out, says Osembe. Leandro notices she’s uncomfortable with being touched. And he doesn’t want to do anything but touch her. He discovers her ugly feet, with twisted toes
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