Jeanne was drowsy from the conversation she had had with Sabrina on the road, but she was mesmerized by the emphasis on the one finger. It seemed like that one finger—well Terrence’s one finger—waved before her like the hand on a metronome.
She pulled over deeper into the blackness of the road. Terrence had become her new Scheherazade telling her stories while she was driving so she would not fall asleep. She did not, but she was so horny as he told her what he would do with his one finger that she was wet and sticky. The throbbing from within her made her need to touch herself.
“Are you still driving?” he asked her, and she shook her head then realized he was not there with her.
He was so often not with her that it was painful, because they were together but he was on the road all of the time. It was this particular work project that took him back over and over to Paris. Paris where he had worked with Eliza–where they had fallen in love. Where he was now with Lila—a woman who he kept encountering after a long, thankfully not fatal love chase but now only for work.
But he loved her, he told her he loved her and she loved him so hard what else could she do but believe him?
“No,” she said into the pitch blackness. “I pulled over.”
“I want to see you.”
“You will barely be able to see me, it is black out here. Completely black.”
“I want to see you.”
Jeanne used one hand to Face Time him.
She could see herself on the screen–she looked like something from the Blair Witch Project. Not as frightened, but a bit anxious and her face was damp.
“Where is your other hand?”
“You know exactly where it is, I am
using one finger…”
In the blackness of the night, one finger and Terrence’s encouraging face was all she needed…
When she came, a light flashed randomly on a house numbered 23…
More stories about Jeanne here, more Friday Flash here:
object to be destroyed via wikipedia
