Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Spring and Fall

He said, “Do you have other boyfriends?”

She looked at him, a funny look, “No, why? Are we boyfriend girlfriend now?”

He said, “No, I thought we agreed this was just a casual sexual encounter.”

She said, “No, I prefer the traditional term of boyfriend, girlfriend. Lovers maybe.”

They sat on the bench, looking at the ferries coming and going.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon. His spouse was out of town on a girls’ weekend out. Her spouse had gone back east to visit his family.

“When are you moving?” She asked.

“I don’t know. We are still searching for a place. A big house with an acre of land. In Marine. Where we could raise children.” He said.

“That’s great.” She said. But she wondered if she meant it.

“But I’m keeping my place in the city.” He said, nonchalantly.

She found her spirit lifted, just a little.

“I’ll need a pad to crash. When I work late. We’ve had our apartment for 10 years. It’s largely paid off.” He said.

“I’ll need a place to stay when I work late. Driving to Marine is far.” He added

“I’d agree.” She nodded her head. She’s now chewing on her Blue Bottle Gelato instead of licking the top of it.

“Go and hurry up and get your house in Marine. Your wife can raise your children, build a garden, and raise some chickens.” She smiled. The image of his beautiful young wife working under the sun, while having her children running around in the yard made her happy. She liked that serene image. She had met his young wife once. She was beautiful, had the brilliant smile and so innocent and trustworthy. His young wife would make a great mother. Something she’d never do for him.

She’s already a mother, to her own three children. All grown up now, two in high school, one in college back east.

“So what do you tell your husband about us? I should know so I could synch up with what I say to my wife.” He asked in earnest.

“I told him that I hang out with you. You are young, bi and we have gone out and done things. He knows that I attract non-straight men.” She said while stretching her legs.

“What have you told her about me?” She asked.

“I told her that you give me career advice. We have gone to dinner once with my buddy. We have grabbed lunch sometimes.” He answered.

The secret to an affair is that you try not to lie. You tell your respective spouses of the existence of the other person in your life, in a non-sexual way. That way, the truth is largely truth. You have not, technically lied.

“You should also tell her that I’m a mother of three, I’m approaching 50, and I’m not attractive, overweight, and I’m nearly 20 years older than you.” She smiled. She knew that she’s older, but she’s not by any stretch of imagination, not attractive, she’s in fact, in excellent shape, very attractive, a yoga instructor by night, and a VP of a financial firm in downtown. People constantly thought of her to be in her early 30s.

“So I like this.” He touched her necklace, and then just so ever gently he touched her neck. It’s a matching set. He liked her attire. She’s gorgeous for her age. She’s someone he always wanted to have, exotic, olive skinned, black hair, toned body, petite, full of radiant smile, happy, intoxicatingly sexy. Even though she’s nearly 20 years senior than he is.

“So your place or mine tonight?” She asked.

“It’s up to you. I like your house, it’s huge and it’s in Pacific Heights. I dig it.” He smiled. He’s tall, fair skinned, blond hair, fit and young. His eyes are blue green, he could pass to be her adopted son. He lived in SoMa in a loft.

“You know, you make me feel old.” She said lazily.

“You always bring this up.” He whined. His arm stretched across the backseat of the bench, pulling her closer. The drastic difference between two were unmistakable. He’s at least a foot taller, and a lot younger. He’s in jeans and t-shirt. She’s in Max Mara’s red poppy suit. 2013 runway edition, specially couriered from Italy via her personal shopper.

“I saw what you sent to me via email the other day.” He said.

“So, what do you think?” She asked.

“I’d like that. To go with you. As your date.” He said.

“Wonderful. Then it’s settled.” She’s now turned her face to him. She smiled.

“I should take a couple of photos of you and send it in.”

“That’s pretty perverse.” He said.

“We live in the city. Isn’t everyone a pervert here?” She reached for her purse.

“Ever since we started to hang out, I started to do more yoga.” He said, trying to please her.

“Good. Come to my Saturday evening class then. I can teach you to be flexible.” She began to get up.

“OK. I think I am pretty cardio worthy. I kept you up all night, didn’t I?” He asked.

She did not answer directly.

“See you tonight, darling. I have to go.” She presented her cheek. He kissed her gently.

They parted. The man went to the left, the woman to the right.

It’s an atypical San Francisco afternoon, it was unseasonably warm and the pier was crowded with tourists. Sun began to come down. If you paid closer attention to the leaves, you’d see them turning brown. The autumn was coming.

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