Nothing Perfect

The musty room wasn’t as dark as I preferred. I didn’t know what Jane thought. The thick, lightproof curtains were stuck halfway open and wouldn't budge, letting the harsh-white parking lot light pass through sheer curtains, bouncing off the bathroom mirror on the back wall.

A staleness in the air confessed that someone had ignored the no-smoking sign on the door. Or, maybe the smell lived inside the walls. Boots Court in Missouri wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t a bad place either, and it was bathed in history. Jane and I intended to write another page that night.

Jane. I'd met her two days before at her bar in Carthage. It was a clean little joint and made a hit with me, so I struck up a conversation with her about its history and how she ended up as the owner. I hoped to write a couple of magazine articles based on this trip, so I picked her brain about the area.

The bar was passed down from her father. He sounded like a character, and she said she took after him. She was twice divorced and had two kids still in school. Her mother tended to the kids when she was working. They hung out at the bar after school, her only time with them most days.

Looking down at the dark outline of Jane's body, I thought her life was like this room, far from perfect, but still beautiful somehow.

She whimpered, almost child-like, with a randomness that reminded me of a birdsong. I reached out to her throat to feel the vibrations of her voice before sliding up to her lips. She nibbled my finger with her teeth and laughed.

“Everything good for you back there?” she said, followed by a girlish giggle.

I was startled by the questions, almost as if she asked if my beer was cold enough. I said, with an excited quiver that embarrassed me, “Oh yes, everything’s fine.”

“Well, I should hope so,” and then silence except for her occasional whimper.

I reached up to the back of her neck, feeling beads of sweat. Her skin was smooth. I let my fingers slide back around to touch her lips. She kissed them. I thought of her life. Then I cupped my hands around the crown of her head, wondering what thoughts were swimming around in there, and how she’d file this night with me into her memory.

My fingers slid down her back that arched down slightly and swayed to my pressing. I felt her glistening skin and turned to the loud window unit humming to cool the humid air. I’d already checked, and it was set on high, and it wasn’t like I was going to stop what I was doing to see about it.

My hands rested in the small of her back, feeling her heat rise across my fingers, almost tangible. The light reflecting in the bathroom mirror put a glow on Jane, and I saw the crest of her ass and the tight folds around her anus.

From a short time in college premed, I remembered anus came from the Latin word for round, and hers was indeed round, tight, and beautiful in context. I’d never been into anal sex but looking down between my hands, I gave it some thought.

My rhythm slowed as I thought of how amazing it was that a few moments earlier, Jane bit my finger at what was the beginning of her digestive system. Then that same finger rubbed across the end of her system, all within my arm’s reach. She whimpered when my finger touched her anus, but I continued where I was because it felt very fine pressing into her human core where those two cute children I met that afternoon had exited a few years ago.

Then it hit me just how fast the cycles in a human life happen. Cycles that happened slowly in childhood raced by as an adult. The time from our first conversation to now was little more than 48-hours. History happens fast in adult life. I wondered what Jane and I would take away from this memory. Would it be just another arbitrary night accompanied by the random whimpers of pleasure from Jane’s sweet voice.

“Come inside me,” I heard Jane whisper in a raspy voice. Her shoulders began to lower toward the bed, and she arched her back higher.  I felt firm and knew this could continue for a while, at least until we were drowning in sweat. I leaned forward and kissed Jane’s wet back, tasting the saltiness of her. She smelled of incense mixed with bath powder. I couldn’t place either smell but liked them.

My mind narrowed to the task and focused on the pleasure I was feeling down below. Jane enveloped me in fevered heat. She flexed with each of my thrusts as if mindful of me. I felt an easing of her grip as I pressed in, almost as if accepting me with openness. As I pulled away, her vulva vestibule became firmer as if trying to hold me longer. It was a beautiful gesture as if her body whispered, “please stay just another moment.” She seemed to have a familiarity with her body, unlike most women I’d had.

Finally, my body reached a tipping point, and I felt the last few feet of our long labored climb to the highest arch on tonight’s roller coaster. As the rollover came, gravity and nature took control. In those moments we were purely animal. It was a winding, dizzy descent with several cascades jetting through me into Jane.

I pulled her into me and felt her grip tighten. Her hands were pulling at her legs with urgency. We froze there for several moments before finally releasing our union and rolling to each other’s side, burying ourselves in a long kiss. When we parted, she had a giddy smile, and I had the type of smile you can’t force away. Yes, we’d written a unique page in our histories that night. Two flawed humans came together to make something beautiful. Nothing perfect, but pretty damn close.