The Falling Man

Chapter 9

Ethel POV

April 1919

I am currently waiting just inside my door for a man! This is quite exciting and I'm quite nervous. There was a handsome man that came into the pub a couple days ago and told me he wanted to see me again after a little while of light conversation. He had brown curly hair and deep brown eyes, he was quite rich (I could tell this by the suit he was wearing), his name is not important at this time because honestly I can't remember it. I was quite apprehensive at first, as the last time I had a rendezvous with a handsome man he left...forever! I have been wanting to get myself into the dating scene for a little while though so with a push from Frances, I am here now waiting for a man and breathing quite heavily from rushing around trying to get ready in time.

It's a Tuesday night, the nice thing about working at a pub is you don't have to be up early in the mornings. I'm not quite sure how I feel completely about this man. He seems quite into himself from the conversation we shared at the pub. He also told me he would come find me? For our date? Frances later told me he asked for my address when leaving and told her not to tell me but that he would be surprising me with showing up on Tuesday night. Is that weird? I feel like it's weird. I don't know. Nonetheless, I am still here standing behind my door anxiously waiting. I also chugged a whole bottle of wine in my rushed getting ready process. So I'm a little tipsy...by a little tipsy I mean I'm drunk. I also have my sexy stockings on. I recently bought them and I feel this is as good of an occasion to wear them as any. I'm still waiting. How fucking long is this man going to take?

As I am thinking that, I hear a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and open it; remembering to act surprised because he was supposed to come find me. Oh gosh what am I getting myself into!! "Oh, hello." I say with fake confusion on my face. He's looking quite intensely into my eyes. "Hello." He says. "Hello." I repeat again. "Hello." He replies. I hate this. He then immediately rushes for me and kisses me. This is definitely not what I was expecting but I haven't got any sort of action in years, since Tommy, and I'm quite drunk, so I go along with it. Things lead to things and next thing I know I'm riding him on my bed. As I am bouncing, I take in how long it's been since I had sex. The last time I had sex was before the war with my ex, Ray. He pulls me down and puts me on my side. He's behind me pumping away. Don't get me wrong I'm very much enjoying this. It feels good to be touched again. He's going quite fast now, it hurts slightly but I let him continue. "Your so delightful." He says quite strained and loud while jamming into me at jackrabbit speed.

It's the next morning. The light streaming through my window wakes me up. I feel a slight pound in my head from the botttle I finished the night prior. As I open my eyes fully and sit up. I'm quite startled. The man from the night before is dressed fully in his suit and sitting at the end of my bed staring directly at me. I hold his stare as I don't know what to say. "Last night was amazing." He states to me. Seems exaggerated. It was sex, amazing sex is questionable. He continues on, "it was something special..I've never actually..slept with one of you women before." I'm confused by what he means by this. He didn't have sex like someone who's never had it before. "It's always been something I wanted to try. But I never found one of you that I particularly felt I wanted to partake in that with." I am very confused. My head is pounding. I am realizing now I just had random sex with a random man. He scoots closer to me and strokes my hair. I look up at him still same confused expression on my face. He moves his hand to stroke my cheek. And says "Thank you" to me like I saved his whole family from a burning building. He's still stroking my cheek, this feels quite like a nice moment actually. I think it's more the physical contact of a man's hand on my face that feels nice than the moment itself. He leans down to kiss me. After our short kiss he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small wad of money. He puts it on my nightstand and leaves. As I hear the door click I wonder to myself...did that man think I was a hooker?