The Valley

By Tuesday Jones

Have you ever wanted to be fucked so badly you’ve counted the number of dicks in the

room with you? Been so horny that you’re just sat in a meeting disregarding the faces,

just, who has a penis and who doesn’t. Guessing what they look like, which one looks

most appealing by the contours of their trousers. This is how ready I was lying in bed,

naked in an empty house. Almost empty valley.

The cow bells were way up high on the mountain in the summer pastures far out of

hearing. Nothing moving in my corner of the village. Wide velvet dewy lawn running

down towards the house. A ‘Tender Is the Night’ night, a Gatsby smoking on the lawn

night. Everything in the garden was green and lush and waiting.

Earlier in the day I had matched with a boy, twenty-five, half French half Vietnamese. His profile full of shots of him wakeboarding, huge pretty grin on his face.

Hey Tuesday, I love your profile, I can’t believe you’re 45.

Hi Ben thanks for the match, well I am 45 haha no one lies about being my age.

You are very beautiful, do you often go for younger guys?

Honestly I just go for who I’m attracted to.

I’m very keen to meet you if you would be interested, what are you looking for on here?

The chat stayed very flirty and we moved the conversation over to socials so that I could

check he had friends, a life, people who felt safe around him. I was very attracted. He

clearly did a lot of sport, big big smile and his profile was full of girl and guy friends. We

agreed he could come over to mine later.

Tuesday I have always had a fantasy would you be open to hearing it?

Um okay, tell me.

I kept looking at my phone to check the time, I couldn’t put it down. At nine I went

upstairs to the bathroom. I’d already changed the sheets and made the bed. I

undressed and spent twenty minutes looking in the mirror, from every angle, pulling at

my skin. I took a long shower, shaved everything, moisturised everything, brushed my

teeth for five minutes, flossed and inspected myself again. Checked the clock on the

phone a further thirty times. Pretending to myself that I wasn’t looking for any messages

from him. Nothing. It would be dark by eleven and he would arrive before eleven thirty. I fussed over the bedsheets again and double checked the condoms were in the basket

on the shelf of the bedside table.

Just after eleven I climbed into bed. My legs wriggled enjoying the sensation of clean

smooth skin against cool fresh cotton. The oversized bed charged with my electric

excitement. Earlier I had opened the tall glass doors to my balcony wide to let in the

cooler night air. I pulled the white cotton flat sheet over me, lying face down, listening.

No sound. The whole valley was holding its breath with me.

Then lights, muted car lights cast a glow over the bedroom wall. I heard the engine cut

off. The dry clunk of a car door shutting, just one. Still no other sound from the

surrounding pastures, no one out late with a dog even. The farmhouse next door was

always quiet at this hour. Footsteps on the concrete pavers curving from the drive

across the lawn to the front door. I was alive. Eyes tight shut, listening for every

indication of him, his gait, his pace. The metallic clink and squeal of the heavy front

door handle. He was inside my house. Climbing the stairs in steady measured steps. I

buried my head deeper into the pillow and waited in the soft darkness. His footsteps

continued along the hallway past the bathroom and two empty bedrooms. So close. A

gentle knock of a hand against the wood as he took hold of the handle on my door.

His presence thickened the atmosphere. He was here. Closer. I could smell a citrus

black pepper cologne, white soap. Sounds of a shirt being pulled over his head and the

cloth hitting the floor. Then the pull of denim over still buttons, jeans coming off. His

body next to mine as he leant over to remove his boxers one leg at a time. He carefully

pulled the thin cotton sheet off my back, down over my buttocks, down to the back of

my knees. No words. I felt his breath on me for a second. Warm on my shoulder,

hovering. Frissons. His lips, just so soft, tenderly kissed my back. A dog barked from

across the river, the sound bouncing off the mountain on my side of the valley. I exhaled.