LOVE & MARRIAGE.
Marriage was a fine institution your father said but not when you were married to Clifton it wasn’t not when you had him breathing all over you every time he caught you lying down trying to plant a kiss on your lips or brow or where ever he could plant one and even when he was dressed for work at the office he’d sneak a quick kiss on you or want a promise that when he got home that night you’d be waiting for him in that nightdress he bought the one with the small flowers on it the one that came just above the knees and off he’d go with that smile on him that look in his eyes that sexy brooding kind of look that I can’t wait until tonight sort of gaze but once he was gone and you were sure he’d not be back for a few hours you quickly washed and dressed and went to Max’s place and he’d let you in and pour you a drink and light you a cigarette and together you’d plan what you’d do for the day and where you’d go and while he dressed you talked to him through the door of the bathroom looking around his small apartment and the unmade bed and the drawn curtains and the few pictures on the walls and the one photo by the bed a photo he kept of you the one you’d given him after you first met him that night at the jazz club where Clifton had taken you and while Clifton was talking to the trumpet player in the interval the tenor sax player gave you a wink and that was Max and he came down and sat beside you and talked and talked and made you laugh and feel good for the first time in ages and all the while Clifton was with the trumpet player paying you no attention at all not even when he looked over and saw you and Max sitting together laughing and joking and since that night you and Max met whenever you could and sometimes you went out places and saw the sights and had a meal and a few drinks or you’d stay at his place and go to bed and have sex while jazz played on the radio and Max would be kissing your lobes or your lips and all you wanted was for it not to end although you knew it had to and you had to go back home to Clifton and be ready for him and his ways and wants and his kinky sex deeds and then and only then did he want his dinner want the meal hot and ready and a glass of his favourite beer and all the time asking you what you did all day and why was the place such a shambles and didn’t you do any housework and you’d sit there watching him answering him monosyllabically all the while thinking of Max and the places you’d been the laughs you had had the love making in his bed the sheets the pillows the scent of him and sometimes when Clifton was beside you in the bed in your mind it was Max there Max’s arms about you and his kisses on your lips and cheeks and only the dull moans of your dull husband broke the illusion of a great night’s passion.
