Mike is a long-time supporter of procrastination and enjoys doing as often as he can.
Camilla leaned over and parted her red lips the color of fresh blood, moist and alluring. She let the shaft slowly slide her mouth. She closed her lips around the shaft and slowly pulled in. At first, there was nothing. She did it again and again until the extra-thick dark chocolate mocha milkshake past her lips and hit her tongue. The mix of coffee, chocolate, cream, and ice cream exploded in flavor in her mouth offering an experience she rarely ever partakes in. She lowered the glass to see Francesco, her date. His mouth was open, and his face was turning as red as her lips. She didn’t know what to make of his slack jaw and wide eyes. She hadn’t been on a date with another man for over seventeen years. Her now ex-husband David hadn’t taken her out on the town in five years. She found out he had three other women he took on dates and all three knew he was married and didn’t care. Francesco Russo was her daughter’s fourth-grade teacher. Her daughter acted like a matchmaker setting up the date.
To the outside world, Camilla is what could be called a yoga-mom. At forty, she has been non-ironically called her daughter’s sister rather than mother, but for all her yoga-chic she was still the farm girl from Lodi, Ohio. She gave up her life to raise four children with no complaints. She ignored all the signs of cheating, all the signs of dysfunction until the day David didn’t come home. He sent divorce papers. She now has the house, the kids and all the time in the world to wrongly blame herself for a marriage gone wrong. For all his massive faults, David was still a loving and active father, more than just an alimony or child support check. Camilla had a hard time understanding how the man she loved didn’t love her.
Francesco took a long drink of his Diet Coke. He and Camilla had a typical teacher-parent relationship. They spoke with one another about her daughter, the weather and growing up in North East Ohio. Francesco was from Greentown near Massillon, Ohio. They were the same age but seemingly from different planets with Francesco growing up in a strict Catholic upbringing and Camilla among the Amish. She wasn’t Amish or even Mennonite but most of her peers were causing her social life to be governed by the rules they followed. The two talked about all this and more keeping away from marriages and children. Camilla slowly started to think about the straw. She blushed. There was another thing she hadn’t done in years. Her youngest was five years old so at least five years ago. She had no plans to sleep with him tonight, not on the first date.
An old fashion soda shop with hand-spun milkshakes from homemade ice cream and a real flattop burger, Camilla’s daughter taught him well. For the first time in years, Camilla felt like a woman again. She knew it had nothing to do with Francesco no matter how gentlemanly he acted. She was a woman out on a date with a handsome man having fun. No kids, no bruises, no whining or the cacophony of noises that follow young children like the dust cloud around the character Pigpen from Peanuts. From the soda shop, they planned to go bowling. Let’s bowl from Grease 2 ran into her head as they laced up and went to their lane. She beat him in all six games. On the fifth game, they had another date planned. The thought of ending the date at his house passed her mind. It had been a long time. They talked about going to a bar, but he had class in the morning, and she was working at her new job downtown. Camilla had a law degree but never passed the bar. She was working as a part-time paralegal in a law firm specializing in civil rights law. She didn’t make much, but she liked the work and the people. Francesco walked her to her door, kissed her good night and said he couldn’t wait to see her again.
Out in his car, Francesco stroked his knife and played with the keychain he made from his last date. He thought about all the fun things he’ll do with her when he can get her alone in the dark.