LDR: Lust. Drama. Romance

TAXI CAB: RHN 515

Time’s up.

It’s time to part ways. The night is over and we have to get back to our regular lives. This mayor needs to continue serving his city, and I need to be in zero visibility. His image is his to own, and my image is mine to hide. I need to keep my profile low not to get any unwanted attention from judgmental people. Bad publicity is still publicity? No. For me, bad publicity is bad reputation. And if I want to keep the balls rolling, I need to rock it real hard. I am the cheese in this game. And all the mice are dying to get me, while all the cats begun hating me since the beginning of time. Oh, well, I cannot really please everyone with my taste. Some just don’t have the appetite.

I looked outside the cab’s window and saw the beauty of the metropolitan. The most sophisticated facades and exteriors are designed to be in one among the tallest in the crowd of the buildings.  I continued to let fascination struck me, realizing that it is not the first time I passed by this area. Yes, my memory reminded me that this was the same street with the male model superstar; it was too short term to embark an evident recollection to the limelight.

I have been to a lot of guys, too many that it surpasses the counting limit of both my hands. And to be honest I cannot even remember all of them. All I know is that all of them made me happy, at least a night of their lives. Some didn’t even last a night, maybe an hour in the fire exit or a travel’s worth of time inside the car. I can all deal with that, no biggie.

“Hello?” I immediately answered the phone when I saw the light flashed.

“Yes, baby. I am on my way home now. No dramas. It’s okay. You are not obliged to drive me home. I don’t really want a scene when everybody sees me going out from a mayor’s car. I prefer to keep it low, you know. Chill sweetie, I can pull this one off.”

I answered as he asked me if I’m headed home. I can feel the guilt in his voice telling me that he’s sorry he cannot drive me home, which is really not a thing for me. I know my place, I own him for a night, but during the daylight I am nobody but just one of his fellowmen in town. I can never be the first lady forever. Good thing I still could be that first lady, at least during the night.

“And, honey, don’t forget to clear all your logs because I don’t want to make this even bigger. You know how our tactics go, or at least you should know. I need to hang up now. See you soon, dear.” And I hang up.

The good thing about hooking up: (1) You can call them thousands of endearments – baby, love, honey, and all those sour-sweet terms, without them being angry because they know that you can call them any name you want. (2) You don’t have to say I love you. (3) You can hang up the phone without saying that you’ll miss them. Those are the luxuries I afford everyday while all the other girls cannot risk it. I am entitled for these freedoms as part of the game, because I am the game master. And they are just pawns to the chess board while I am the strongest and most needed queen.

It has been a long journey. That was three freaking days. It felt new to be with the guy I am hitting for three consecutive days, because it rarely happens that they could afford the time. Good thing the first lady, of course the lady before me, went out of the country for some special business executive whatever that is that requires her to stay away that long without eyes looking at her husband. And who’s not going to seize this rare moment?

We met quarter after eight in the evening right after he drove his first lady to the airport in a small restaurant near the suite. We ate there freely because we know that nobody knows us there or maybe because no one really bothered to care. Went straight to the suite after and ignited the fire that was extinguished for a long time. As usual, every single time always feel like the first time; but it was never this good.

This man knows how to play the game.

He makes me feel that it is just not about doing it, but it is the art of doing it. He makes it sensual not like any other guy did. And for that I give him credits. His moves are one of a kind.

We just cuddled for the longest and talked about how our days went without each other, just like any other chic flick movies. Then he started staring at me, and so I stared back. I can see him through his eyes, and all I can see is fire. He started kissing me, and I kissed back. I can taste everything about him through his tongue, and all I can taste is desire. We stripped it all off, kept nothing but our bare flesh. I can feel him from underneath his clothes, and all I felt was extreme heat. That lasted for I don’t know how long, because we lost track of time. We had that time to spare and that was our time to do it all.

And I stopped thinking about all of it when the vehicle I’m on stopped, obliging me to pay and get off his car so he could get his new passenger. I gave him twice the amount than what was on the meter; and ended the conversation by saying, “You did not hear anything about my phone call.” I just want to make it clear to him.