Foreign Exchange

by Rachel Cade

  Lorna panted and leaned back. Her thighs were pressed so close together her knees were beginning to hurt. But that didn’t deter Simon from easily moving in and out of her with his middle and index finger. He groaned behind her, it wasn’t loud but it caused a rumbling in his chest that reminded her of the low sounds lions make before they attack. She reached back and grabbed at his coat.

  “You’re going to start to spasm on my fingers aren’t you,” he whispered, “Oh, yeah you are.”

  The man outside the doorway laughed. She could barely see him because her eyelids were half closed. “Come on, Lorna, sweetie, come on my fingers.”

  Biting her lower lip as air pushed out from the side of her mouth, Lorna began to move her body. She lifted off his fingers as he pulled them out and pushed her pelvis down as he slid them back. Simon kept ramming his fingers into her, pulling her back so that her butt pushed tighter against his cock. “I want you to come for me, love, come all over my—”

  His voice faded into the background as Lorna felt her orgasm wash over her like a tidal wave. Sure and complete, it poured over her body consuming her. The back of her head pressed against his shoulder and her mouth opened, Simon covered it quickly with his own, swallowing her cry of pleasure.

  She lolled back against his chest as she tried to catch her breath. Before she could really get her bearing, the door opened behind them. Simon swiftly pulled his fingers from her body and out of her pants as they both waited for whoever was coming from the other side of the door.

  A small group of people, well dressed from different age groups came out of the door buckling their coats, talking amongst themselves. Lorna tried to smile as they looked up at them.

  “Hey,” one of the older men said as he held the door open for them, “you guys come in through this way too?”

  “I don’t blame you,” an older woman added. “It’s hell getting in through the front door with that long line.”

  “Thanks.” Simon chuckled as he went to the door and ushered Lorna inside.

  They were in the hallway of some restaurant, she guessed from the sound of the clanging dishes and gentle music she heard. Her mind was reeling. She was still high from the orgasm and from the fact that if those people had come out two minutes earlier they would have been caught.

  Simon looked over at her. His face was slightly flushed. “I’m glad they came out. I wondered if you might have kneed me in the groin this time before running off.”

  Lorna looked away from him. He looked so damn hot, and he more than obviously wanted her.

  “You’re looking quite refreshed Lorna. Climaxes become you.”

  She hissed between her teeth at his comment.

  “Let’s see if we can find something to eat. I am utterly famished.” Taking her hand he led her through the hall.

  “You’ve been here before?” she asked.

  Glancing back at her he said. “No. I don’t know where the hell I’m going. I was just following the smell.”

  The pungent smell of steaks and seasoning rose through the air as they made it to the kitchen of the upscale restaurant. People were moving about in a mad rush as they cooked. Simon turned to her as the dishes clanged and people shouted around them. “You can’t see my erection, can you?”

  Lorna looked down; thankfully his coat was covering it. She looked back up at him. “No. You’re decent, for now.”

  He grinned. “Promises, promises.”

  After slipping the host a possible hundred-dollar tip, Lorna and Simon were seated at a table near a window. She’d tried to peek but he’d done it so fast and discreetly the money was safely tucked in the host’s lapel after only a flash of green.

  The restaurant was lovely and spacious, and Lorna had to admit she had never eaten in a place so lavish. It was artfully decorated and colorful with sixties inspired table and chairs, and brightly painted walls. This was a long way from McDonald’s.

  Simon waited until she was seated before he seated himself. Something that did not go unnoticed by her. She was glad her brown skin wouldn’t show a blush. It was a shame that she really wasn’t used to that kind of treatment; chivalry was almost dead.

  “Would you like a drink? You are old enough to drink right?”

  “You’re asking me that now?”

  He shrugged. “Just because you’re old enough to do...other things, doesn’t mean you’re old enough to partake in wine.”

  “I’m old enough. Satisfied?” She almost groaned.

  “Hardly, little Lorna.”

  “I guess we could do this naughty James Bond talk all day, hmm?”

  “I would be up for it.”

  Lorna giggled. “So damn cheesy.”

  A young male waiter that appeared to be wearing lip-gloss came up to their table, handed them menus and stared openly at Simon as he recited the specials. Lorna couldn’t help but think of Bobbie Trendy from The Anna Nicole Smith show. She promptly hid her face behind the menu.

  The waiter sauntered off after Simon politely asked to allow them a few more minutes.

  “Looks like you got yourself an admirer.” Lorna stifled a laugh from behind the menu.

  “Oh, so you thought that was amusing, did you?”

  “Very much so, Guvnuh.”

  Simon chuckled. “So we do accents do we? Cute.”

  Lorna glanced at the menu. “Is this one of those restaurants that charges you eighty-dollars for a piece of raw fish with a twig in the center?” Simon’s laughter at her remark caused several people at adjoining tables to glance at him. “If so,” she continued, “I say we hightail it now, because I only eat well done meat, thank you.”

  He pressed a hand over his heart. “I am going to be a gentleman, just this once, and leave that one alone.”

  “I didn’t think you were a man to show any mercy.”

  “If you continue to put out lines like that I won’t be.” He glanced at the menu before saying, “You know, I think this is one of those twig and berry restaurants.” He laughed from behind his menu, and she rolled her eyes.

  He let the menu plop down against the white table. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  Just as they got outside it began to rain. She hadn’t even noticed how the sky had darkened while they had been in the restaurant. They were in the middle of the street when it started, and had to dart across for shelter under an overhang. Lorna almost ran into Simon as he leaned against the wall while the rain pounded against the sidewalk. She held her hand out against him laughing, and he smiled at her but made no move to touch her.

  Lorna wiped the water from her face. “Good grief where did that come from?”

  “The sky?” Simon offered.

  “Ha, ha,” she answered flatly.

  She watched as other people in the street that didn’t have umbrellas ducked and ran for cover. It was a hilarious scene; women covered their perfectly styled hair in fear of nature’s smog-tainted-rain dulling their highlights.

  Lorna felt a slight tug on her coat and was pulled back until she stood next to Simon.

  She held back her grin as she felt his hand on the small of her back.

  “You know,” he began, “I thought just came to mind.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he paused, “shall I continue?”

  Pursing her lips, she shook her head, no. “I was wondering when you were planning to allow us to consummate our little relationship.”

  She swallowed. An instant image of Simon on top of her in bed was brought to her minds eye. It sent a surge of heat through her core that made her lurch forward away from his hand.

  “Are we nervous at that idea?” he asked from behind her.

  Lorna didn’t speak for a long time. She just couldn’t get the image of them together out of her mind. She would feel him moving inside of her. He’d pump so hard her body would shake. She would feel his breath against her ear. Would he like the way she felt? How would he sound when he made love? She wanted to know, her hands itch
ed with the idea that he wanted her to know.

  Then she remembered who she was, plain chunky Lorna, fat Lorna. Why would any man, much less one that looked like Simon, want to see her naked? She would probably look like the blob to him. Then she felt sick at the idea of him running from her. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  The rain was still coming down but it wasn’t as heavy. She walked out in it and didn’t turn around until he called her name.

  “Lorna. Where are you going to be tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Home.” Eating ice cream and watching movies all day, in pajamas.

  He raised a blond brow and put his hand in his pockets. “So, where is home?”

  She laughed at the audacity. “I’m not telling you where I live.”

  “Well, if not, how am I to find you again?”

  You don’t, she almost said. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t say that to him.

  “You are not being fair here, Lorna. The last time we abruptly parted ways I left you with a clue as to how to find me.”

  Her mouth gaped. “You dropped a business card in my bag with your name and number on it.”

  “I had to give you a clue.”

  “That wasn’t a clue, it was a signed confession. I still don’t know how you did that—”

  “This all beside the point. Do you have any idea how much that slap hurt? I was stunned—” He stopped himself then wagged his finger at her. “See? You’re trying to distract me, Lorna. I want my clue.”

  “I don’t have any to give.”

  His tilted his head, his eyes rolled back and he made a playful groan. “You always make me work for it, don’t you? So, so hard I work.”

  An old woman that looked to be in her seventies came out from the door he was standing near. “Gosh, it’s still raining cats and dogs isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Simon said, pulling his collar up. “And frogs and chickens and everything else. And I have no umbrella.”

  “Oh, you’re a strong young man,” she said, smiling back at him, “a little rain won’t kill ya. Now me on the other hand—” She shrugged, pulling her Pucci scarf closer around her neck.

  Simon pointed at Lorna as he stood next to the older woman. “Yes my dear, but I have an even worse dilemma than this rain.”

  “Oh dear,” the small woman said, “what?”

  “Do you see that beautiful young woman over there standing in the rain?”

  She turned to stare at Lorna with rosy wrinkled cheeks and a small smile as she squinted. “Yes.”

  “I merely asked her for a clue as to her whereabouts tomorrow and she has yet to give me one.” He tilted his head down to his new companion. “Can you believe that?”

  She shook her head. “No!”

  “Yes!” Simon’s mouth gaped as he answered her shocked response with his own.

  Lorna could only stand there feeling embarrassed and amused, and it was reflected in her eyes.

  “Oh, here’s my car.” The old woman began to hobble toward the street as a man got out and rushed to open the passenger door for her. As he helped her inside, she shouted to Lorna, “Oh, tell him honey, he’s gorgeous!”

  Lorna gasped, and she swore the woman winked at her beneath her glasses.

  She turned her open mouth expression to Simon as he guffawed with laughter.

  “I—” he began, pausing to catch his breath. “I am using grannies to coax your cooperation.” He held out both hands. “You want me on my knees? Must I beg?”

  She held her hands up. “No, no, don’t!” She fully believed he would.

  “Okay.” He walked out to meet her under the rain. His direct colorful gaze didn’t waver from her face. “I’ll tell you what. Meet me tomorrow outside of my office.”

  He was so close to her she had to crane her neck to look up at him. And her body instantly came to life again at his nearness.

  “Why?” she asked quietly?

  His full mouth jutted out. “That would be telling.”

  He walked around her, and she thought he’d continued until she heard his voice above her. “Go home, get out of the rain.” His cool fingertip grazed just behind her ear. “Promise you’ll think of me?”

  Who needs to promise?

  Chapter Five

  Lorna didn’t sleep all night. Thoughts kept penetrating her brain of Simon penetrating her. Dear God, how many positions had she imagined them trying? How many hours had these disturbingly delicious thoughts played themselves out in her head? She looked over at her clock; it read 1 a.m. What was she going to do when she saw him tomorrow?

  Was she really going to give up the goods? Most likely not. Even though she really, really wanted to, she knew she wasn’t that kind of girl.

  But you can get humped and fingered in an alley. You’re that type of girl. She rolled her eyes at the thought. It was true. No wonder he expected sex from her. Why he actually wanted to be was the question. Even after everything he said—everything they had done—she still couldn’t believe he was attracted to her.

  Was he attracted to her? She still questioned that. She still half expected to wake up whenever she was near him or hear someone say ‘Gotcha!’

  Didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he understand that someone that looked like him just didn’t date, screw or talk to people that looked like her. He looked like he should be in some Abercrombie & Fitch ad, and she looked like the flabby anonymous figures they showed on the late night news depicting America’s weight epidemic.

  But when she was with him for the most part she forgot all about that. He made her feel special, sexy and desirable just as she was—for who she was. That had never happened to her before. And she just didn’t know what to think of it. She was scared and excited at the same time, and her conscience was at war with what to do.

  ****

  The next day however, she found herself waiting outside of Simon’s building.

  For an hour.

  And it was cold, so it wasn’t fun trying to brace the fierce wind that kept tearing through Manhattan. Every time the doors opened, she thought she would see his beautiful flushed face saying he was sorry he was late. But it never happened. At six-fifteen, frowning, she started walking away from the building just as her cell phone rang.

  It was Tianna, asking to meet her at Macy’s. She agreed, after all, she didn’t have a damn thing else to do today. When she got on the bus, thankfully, it was only half full, and she was able to get a seat by herself. Staring out the window, she saw New Yorkers in various heights, shades, and weights shuffle their way through the streets and sidewalks. She thought of Simon and that sinful walk he had then scoffed. Maybe it was just as well; she wasn’t going to sleep with him that was for sure. She hoped she wasn’t going to sleep with him. She let out a breath at that idea, her eyes unfocused on her reflection in the bus’ window.

  When she was around him, though, that was a whole other story. Her strong mind, her resolve, her sanity, all that shit went straight out of the window and she became a creature of sexual intent. That was laughable, that had never really been a quality she would have used to describe herself, most certainly not to another person. She was just Lorna. But with Simon, she became Lorna: Sex Maiden, ready and willing to bend over or on top of any inanimate object and get done right. She chuckled at that.

  She reached Macy’s as the sun was going down. Tianna was inside, and she met her at the lingerie section. “Good God girl, what the hell are you doing over here again?”

  Tianna rolled her eyes. “That bra was the wrong size.”

  “Well excuse me, that’s why you should have gotten it yourself.”

  “Whateva.” Tianna’s standard excuse. “Where were you at?”

  Lorna shrugged. “Just out.”

  Event though she had known Tianna since she was seven, and subsequently had been best friends since, she felt really uncomfortable telling her about Simon. They were old enough to, but Lorna never really talked to Tianna about men. For the most part, her past rel
ationships weren’t really worth mentioning, some of them not even to herself.

  Tianna pulled a red negligee out of the rack. It was silk and shimmered around the heart-shaped bodice. “You like this?”

  It was beautiful and Lorna tried to ignore the swift wish that she had the body to get into it. “Sure, that’s nice. Are you gonna get it?”

  Tianna looked at the tag and pursed her lips, practically shoving the gown and its red padded hanger back on the rack. “Don’t think so, not at that price.”

  Lorna shook her head laughing. “I won’t even look.”

  “Don’t.” Tianna laughed.

  She continued to walk behind her browsing friend trying her damn hardest not to think of Simon, being angry at someone and wanting them was a weird feeling, kind of like having a baby squirrel knotted in your hair.

  “I was waiting for a guy,” she heard herself say as she watched Tianna compare two Rocawear shirts.

  “What?” Tianna asked absently.

  “I was waiting for a guy when you called.”

  Tianna slowly lowered the shirts and turned to her friend, a look of surprise and skepticism on her face. “Then why are you here with me?”

  “He didn’t show.”

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “Out.” Lorna felt so embarrassed she was trying to keep herself from gushing. This was her life after all, not some episode of Sex and the City. She didn’t want her friend to think she was sprung. Even though she was head over heels, broke off, and sprung. If Tianna only knew the things she’d done. The fact that for the last couple of days she had been some cheap hussy in a paperback, or better yet, Kim Basinger in Nine and a Half Weeks!

  “What kind of conversation is this?” Tianna asked, putting down the clothes. “You tell me you meet a guy and I ask ‘where’ and you say ‘out’. Spill it girl, I know you didn’t meet him in a club, cause ya haven’t been in one since 1998.”

  “Damn.” Lorna gasped at her friends embarrassing yet true observation. “First of all, not everyone has to meet in a club.”