Shed Your Inhibitions Press

This is an excerpt from Sinners Guide to Confession by Phyllis Schieber – one of the characters is an erotic author and this excerpt is about one of her dates.

Albert was the nephew of Mrs. Haggerty from 14A. She had started badgering Barbara exactly one year after Roger died. This last time, Mrs. Haggerty had accosted Barbara in the laundry room, promising her that Albert was the man of her dreams. Albert had never been married (always suspicious), loved action movies and the outdoors. “He’s a real catch,” Mrs. Haggerty said. “You’ll see as soon as you meet him.” Barbara agreed, surprising herself as well as Mrs. Haggerty.

“The smell?” Barbara said. “That wasn’t really my point, but I guess I would start to smell by the second day.”

He smiled brightly. Albert was pleased with himself.

“My aunt tells me you’re a writer,” Albert said.

“Yes. I’m a writer.”

“So, what do you write?”

Barbara studied the menu very carefully. This was the part of the conversation she hated. Albert was a nice man, but not for her. She looked up, steeling herself for the inevitable.

“I write fiction.”

“Ah, I see. What’s your genre?”

Barbara wondered if he had crammed for their date, like a contestant on a quiz show.

“Romance. I write romance novels.”

“Is there a lot of sex?” he said.

Albert smiled and winked. She smiled and winked back.

“Just between the women,” she said.

Albert knocked over his water. Barbara had the napkins ready and waiting.

“Shall we order?” she said.

Poor Albert. He was a perfectly nice man. He was even quite handsome and reasonably tall.  They ordered. She went with the sea bass, and he chose the lobster. They talked politics. He was informed and not a Republican. He did enjoy the outdoors, camping especially, and hiking. Barbara hated anything that was even remotely like nature. She even disliked the color green. Albert, to his credit, laughed when she said that. Why had he never married? Of course, he said that he was waiting for a woman like her to come along. After their decaf cappuccinos, they agreed it was late. He declined her offer to split the check and held her coat.  Barbara did not even mind that he put his arm around her as they waited for the car. She had written a really torrid chapter that day, and it might be interesting to have a real live partner instead of a legal pad, a pencil and her own inspiration.

“I really enjoyed dinner, Barbara,” he said, drawing her closer.

“Thanks, Albert. I did too.”

The valet brought their car, and Albert held the door for her. As they drove off, he asked if he could see her again.

“I don’t know,” she said.

He reached a hand across and placed it on her knee. She squeezed her thighs together.

“I’d really, really like to get to know you,” he said.

Barbara patted his hand and moved it off her knee. She had felt a slight flutter when his hand made contact with her leg. Yvonne was glad she had not worn stockings. She moved her thighs and arched herself forward, inviting his hand to explore further up her bare skin. “You’re so ready,” he said, moving his fingers inside her, rubbing her clitoris with his thumb. “I’d like to do you right here.” She leaned over and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth as he rubbed her faster and more furiously until she came. It had been a long time since Barbara had been with a real man instead of one she had created, one who always knew how to do everything perfectly.

“I had a very pleasant time,” she said.

“Pleasant?”

It had been an awful choice of words, and she was already sorry. Now, she would have to make it up to him.

“I meant that in the nicest possible way,” she said.

“Even in the nicest possible way, it’s pretty insulting.”

He sulked for the rest of the ride home, and she abandoned her efforts at conversation. When they got to her building, he pulled into one of the twenty-minute parking spaces and started to get out of the car.

“You don’t have to see me up,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s late. I’d rather see you to the door.”

They were silent in the elevator. Barbara had her key ready. He walked her to the door.

“Well,” she said, “thanks so much for dinner and for the good conversation.”

“Yes, it was pleasant.”

A sense of humor. Barbara was impressed. That deserved at least a kiss, and she owed him something. She reached up to kiss him, but he kissed her first. She wished he had waited for her lead. The kiss was too orchestrated and too hopeful. Yvonne grazed his lips with hers and felt his need as he pressed against her. She licked his lips and reached down for him with both hands, rolling his hardness between her flattened palms. Every word of the scene in her head was better than anything that was happening. Gently, she placed both hands on Albert’s chest and stepped back.

“Thanks again,” she said.

“What’s the matter?” Albert said. “Was the kiss unpleasant?”

He was playing on her guilt, but she was immune to such artifices. A manipulative mother and three children had steeled her to take on any challenge with resolve.

“I’m really tired, Albert, and I just met you.”

It was unlike her to be so forward on first date, but he was so sweet and his eyes promised so much. She just knew he would be a great kisser with those beautiful, full lips. All through dinner, she watched him take bites of his food and then chew and swallow. His throat was long and thick, and she imagined herself naked, gripping his width as she rode his equally long and thick cock.

“I understand,” he said, kissing her cheek.  “It was nice to have met you.”

As soon as she was safely inside her apartment, Barbara waited until she heard the elevator stop and the doors shut. Then she took off her clothes and slipped into one of Roger’s one hundred percent cotton shirts. She still sent them out to be laundered. Silly habit. After she fixed herself a mug of hot tea, she sat at the counter with a fresh legal pad, a few sharpened pencils, and a new plastic cigarette.

Yvonne loved the excitement of first dates. All through dinner she wondered if she would let him come home with her. He was smart, and she liked that. She also liked his biceps when he took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. It was evident that he was trying to impress her, and it was working. “So, you’re in advertising,” Clyde said. She smiled and leaned all the way over so he could see her cleavage. “Yes, I am,” she said. “How am I doing?” Clyde laughed and squeezed her knee under the table. Yvonne loved men with big hands. She parted her legs, inviting him to explore, and he slid up her thigh as though her skin were made of glass. His fingers entered her, and she leaned over even further and touched the tip of her tongue to his lower lip. “Let’s go,” Clyde said. Gripping his wrist through the silk of her skirt, she said, “Not yet. Not just yet. I want to be sure I’m making the right decision.” He nodded, acquiescing to her wisdom.

Barbara wrote furiously, biting down hard on her plastic cigarette. Her heart was racing. I love you, Clyde. She realized it was no longer Yvonne speaking. Barbara stopped writing until heartbeat slowed, and she felt drowsy, just like Yvonne after she took Clyde home for the night.

~*~

“Remember that guy you went out with who would sing all the time?” Kaye said. “That was really weird.”

“Do I remember?” Barbara said. “He took any word from a sentence and matched it to song lyrics. When I told him that I didn’t think it was going to work out, he left me messages for weeks. They say that breaking up is hard to do. Now I know. I know that it’s true. When I called back and told him to stop, he left me a new message. Stop in the name of love.”

“I love that song,” Kaye said.

“What made you think of him?”

“I don’t know.”

They tried to walk early on most mornings, but it was raining hard. Instead, they put on an exercise channel and ate muffins and drank coffee while they watched.

“These muffins are good,” Kaye said. She took another big bite and peered at the television screen as she washed the muffin down with the strong black coffee. “Did you call Ellen?”

“I did. She was still in bed,” Barbara said, picking up a muffin crumb from the counter with a moistened finger. She pointed at the screen. “I’m exhausted just watching them.”

“I still can’t believe that you went out with that guy. It’s not at all like you to give in to pressure.”

“You never met Mrs. Haggerty.”

“And I hope I never will,” Kaye said. “When did you speak to Ellen?”

“Yesterday . . . yes, yesterday afternoon.”

“Yesterday. Love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away.  Oh yesterday came suddenly. Why she had to go, I don’t know–“

”Stop! I can’t take it.”

“Sorry. It is kind of fun, though.”

“You see? That’s what my life is like.” Barbara got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. She was exhausted though she had slept well. “More coffee?”

“Sure.”

“He was actually a pretty nice guy. He even knew the difference between fiction and nonfiction,” Barbara said. “And he had a sense of humor.”

“So? What’s the deal? No spark?”

“Spark? You must be joking. I was glad I could follow the conversation. Based on that alone, I even thought about letting him come back here.”

“Oh?” Kaye said. She turned off the television. “And then what happened?”

It would have been so easy to tell Kaye about Delilah. It would have explained so much, but instead Barbara just shrugged. Delilah’s stories were so intimate, so personal. The Delilah persona had become Barbara’s diary, and no one willingly shared her diary, not even with a best friend.

“I guess I chickened out,” Barbara said. “I did kiss him, or at least, I let him kiss me.”

“How was that?” Kaye said.

“Let’s just say that it didn’t make me gag. That’s good as far as I’m concerned.”

“Sorry. It should be more than that, especially the kissing,” Kaye said. “The kissing usually tells everything.”

“Where were you last night, anyway?” Barbara said.

“Last night?” Kaye blew on her coffee though it was no longer hot. “Why do you ask?’

“Because I called, and George said you were out.”

“Out?” Kaye said. “Last night?”

“Out. Last night.” Barbara turned to look at her oddly. “You okay?”

“Oh, I went to the mall with Rose. You remember Rose, don’t you?”

“The woman you did that stuff with for the Breast Cancer Walk?”

“Yes, that’s Rose.”

“But I called you at eleven-thirty,” Barbara said.

“We went out for coffee,” Kaye said. “You sound jealous.”

“Yes, Kaye, I’m definitely jealous of Rose,” Barbara said. “Actually, your husband was the one who sounded jealous.”

“George? Jealous?”

“Yes, George.”

“Oh, he’s fine. He just doesn’t like it when I go out without him. I told him to get some friends.”

“Or at the very least, a twenty-two-year-old girlfriend,” Barbara said.

“That would be fine,” Kaye said.

“Would it be?” Barbara said. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess sometimes it seems like it would.”

“You wouldn’t be jealous?”

“I guess, or relieved. I don’t know anymore.”

“I understand,” Barbara said.

“So, how’s the new book going? What is it a sweeping saga of this time?”

“It’s the same sweeping saga, just different characters and a different setting,” Barbara said.

“Sounds suspiciously like life,” Kaye said.

“It is life, only an improved version,” Barbara said.

Kaye walked over to the window and drew back the curtain.

“It stopped raining,” she said. “Want to walk?”

Barbara immediately turned the television back on and smiled.

“I’d rather watch,” she said.

“Now, put that in one of your novels,” Kaye said. “You’ll pick up a male readership.”

“Do I want that?” Barbara said.

And she already was considering the possibility, already writing the scene in her head. Lydia was the one who suggested a three-some with her sister though everyone would probably guess it had been his idea. Not that he didn’t love the idea, of course. Cheyenne was as beautiful as Lydia with even larger breasts…

To find out more about Sinners Guide to Confession — http://www.amazon.com/Sinners-Guide-Confession-Phyllis-Schieber/dp/0425221539