Chloe pulled into the tawdry motel on Oak Street at 9.00pm that night. She had worked over time and thought she would never get away from the damn place but now as she parked the car and pulled out the key to room 24, she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, Chloe would relax, for one night at least, in good company.
When she approached the door, Chloe gave the customary two knocks and called out ‘Room service Mr Vickers’. She unlocked the door and entered to find the room dimly lit with candles and Jack Vickers, her boss, sitting at a low table spread with food and two filled wine glasses. Music played softly in the background but Chloe was deaf to it. She only drank in the sight of Jack and how glad she was to see him.
Jack helped her off with her coat. ‘Bad day at the office, honey? I hope they haven’t worked you too hard’ He twinkled at her. Chloe wrapped her arms around him and gave him a full, invasive kiss that said it all. ‘I’ve had a **** day actually’.
They sat down at the low table and Chloe took stock of the food Jack had ordered, Salmon pate for God’s sake. He chinked her glass and told her reassuringly to relax. She took a couple of bites and a few sips but she was restless. Chloe hated her job and if it wasn’t for Jack and the hidden perks that came with him, Chloe would have left years ago. Now, as she watched him, the firelight shadows cast across his features, she realized perhaps even he wasn’t enough. She held on to hopes that some day he would leave his wife for her. She did not dwell too much on it though because it was painful. Their relationship, like the strands of hair on Jacks scalp were starting to wear thin. Chloe was tired of the stressful demands placed upon her. Jack was telling her to just switch off and relax but Chloe could not. She threw her fork down.
Jack. Forlorn, gentle Jack looked up in surprise. ‘What’s wrong? Is the salmon too strong?’
‘Can it Jack. This is an affair. Do I look like I want to be pampered in the short time I have with you?’ Jack frowned and Chloe smiled guiltily at him ‘Don’t think I’m ungrateful but this is too much right now. Will you just **** me? I mean screw the living daylights out of me for a change?’
Jack was discomfited. Lately, Chloe had been making these statements that did not sit well with him. It was a sign. Along with his wife Sue, Jack had a very comfortable lifestyle. No hiccups or inconsistencies and Chloe was his little breath of fresh air. However, fresh air needed to comply with him for obvious reasons. A man can hardly cheat on his wife confidently if the affairee is unhappy. Without realizing it, Jack was a creature of habit and had devised comfortable routines that suited him perfectly. One for Sue and another for his mistress Chloe. He was effectively, a very dull boy.
‘Jesus Jack. What is wrong with you lately? Don’t you want to maul me? When you booked this motel, I thought we were talking sticky, hot sex stuff. Not some romantic dinner’. Chloe stood up and unbuttoned her blouse, her lacy bra exposing the shapely contours of her breasts. ‘See these Jack. They don’t give a **** about salmon pate. Only you’ Jack leaned back in his chair as Chloe came around to his side. His pulse was quickening by the second and as she leaned forward to undo his pants, Jack breathed in her perfume. He caught his hands in her tangled mass of curls and they kissed, tongues intertwining. Chloe hitched up her wrap skirt and straddled Jack right there, her hands fumbling to release him. White-hot energy soared through her. It was so familiar to Chloe that she called out ‘yes!’ Jack moaned as Chloe swallowed him up, always her warmth like nothing he had experienced. He tried to lean forward, burying his face in her breasts but Chloe held him firmly in place, her hands clasped tightly around his throat. Jack couldn’t move but Chloe was doing all the work, one leg poised on the low table for leverage, she thrust back and forth, without grace. ‘Are you going to **** my job out of me, huh Jack?’ she panted at him, wanting to ram his **** right through the top of her head, Jacks hands were at her hips urging her on then fondling her breasts frantically. Chloe’s hands tightened around his throat as she pushed him further into the chair. ‘C’mon’ she groaned urgently and Jacks burning need to unload welled up. ‘Oh yeah, Oh God yeah’ Jack lost himself as he climaxed in wrenching wave after wave, his body moving spasmodically. Chloe stood up and ripped her skirt off, her sopping mound almost directly in Jacks face. She placed a hand on the top of his balding head. She started playing with herself right in his face. ‘You know baby, you do it for me every ****ing time now don’t you?’ Although he would never ask, Jack wondered precisely what it was that he did for her. He was still reeling from the experience. Chloe seemed to be so animated now. She breathed heavily but she was very much alive. Jack had been sucked dry and felt weak. It was true. As she stood there getting herself off, Chloe could feel the power surging right through her legs. Jack was a dull boy but there was something about him. Jack tried to engage her but there was no need. Chloe was already there. She sat back down, a contented smile on her lips. Her radiance shone through and when she opened her eyes, it was with mock recognition. ‘Oh hello Jack, shall we pretend we’re having a steamy affair?’ Chloe kissed him on his lips, his chin, his throat, his chest…
Later, while Jack was in the shower, Chloe lay smoking in bed, thinking about their relationship. They had started their affair 6 months after she had been assigned as Accounts Officer. There was a subtle shift in the chemistry between them almost immediately and Chloe knew he thought her about in a context unrelated to numbers. It warmed her. She too was guilty of such thoughts and had gained pleasure from her fantasies about him. He was married; happily, it seemed. They always are Chloe lamented but she had made a choice to overlook this barrier. The affair had ‘happened’ and to her detriment or not, Chloe had not questioned Jacks motives. Her singleness had followed her everywhere and a little girl’s voice still echoed fairytales to her, so she kept silent and hoped. Chloe clung to dreams. She formed smoke rings and blew them across the room. All too soon, she watched them dissipate into nothingness.
Jack emerged from the tiny bathroom, towel drying his hair. He looks pathetic with wet hair, Chloe thought to herself. Jack was fast losing his hair, his parting approximately 4 inches wide and leaning to the right. Sticking up, he looked like a scarecrow on chemo. His comb over could no longer sustain the illusion of a full head of hair and his shiny pate was revealed. Chloe became suddenly annoyed with the façade of his comb over and queried, ‘Why don’t you just shave your hair off instead of trying to cover up what is so obviously the truth?’ Jack looked in the mirror and combed it, covering the gap with the available sparse hair from the right side of his skull. ‘I don’t think so. I’m a little more cultured than those bald headed guys and we all know what they mean’. Jack knew that Chloe had no idea what a fine art covering up entailed and how time consuming it was. Did she think he was a layabout? He dragged the teeth carefully and precisely across, each hair allocated a particular space. Chloe was interested. ‘What do you mean?’ As Jack preened his thinning top, he spoke in halting tones ‘You’ve seen the images of them on TV. Troublemakers. Bikers, I think they’re called. Criminal types. Continual exposure. You know what I’m talking about’. Jack opened his leather toilet case and extracted a jar of Bryl Cream and proceeded to paste his shiny scalp with the slimy lotion. Trying to ensure all his covering up was untraceable, Jack double dosed his scalp with Bryl cream. He would feel secure knowing everything had its place. Like his dull, routine life.
Chloe lay on her side, mouth wide open, staring at Jack. It was really starting to make sense for her. She had accidentally made the connection and spoke in two languages when she asked him about his hair. The person getting dressed before her was no daredevil gambler. He was a puny safe guy who was not willing to take risks of any sort. Look at his ****ing hair for Christ sake. Jack would never leave Sue, just like he would never shave all his hair off. Jack could not go all the way and ‘come out’. He would always want the best of both worlds but end up looking ridiculous in the process. No, he would keep his stupid comb over. It was a sign. His hair represented everything about him really. His need to hang onto the past, the present and a complete inability to change. Chloe had been duped.
Chloe was amazed at the qualitative assessment she was able to give their affair based on the poor bastard’s hair but hey, she suddenly felt freer knowing that there was perspective in her life where before, none existed. It had all been pinned on false hopes. Chloe perceived herself lying on the bed naked and seductive while Jack stood at a mirror with bucketfuls of cum on his head. He looked ridiculous. Their affair was ridiculous.
Chloe burst out laughing. Jack looked up from the mirror. ‘What’s so funny?’ Chloe continued to laugh, her pink-tipped breasts jiggling in the same jocular fashion. ‘You’re a real dickhead, you know that?’ Jack did not find anything amusing about the comment and refused to join in. Best to withdraw when women are like this lest they cause trouble on the home front, he reasoned to himself. ‘Seriously Jack, you’re nothing but a dickhead. But gosh, thanks for the salmon pate’. At the word pate, Chloe burst into tearful laughter again. Jack hastily finished his ‘toilette’ and replied paternally, ‘Look sweet cheeks, perhaps it’s better if I go home tonight after all. Sue is calling me from her mothers anyway. The room is paid up for the night and breakfast is included. Why don’t you spend the night here and I’ll see you at work on Monday’
Chloe was spluttering and coughing at this jerk-off comb over guy who she had been ****ing for the last 3 years. She sucked an index finger at him and replied in lilting tones, ‘You do that dorky. Mind you don’t lose any hair on the way out!’ Chloe rocked herself mirthlessly with peals of laughter, tears with no real definition, running down her cheeks as Jack picked up his keys and unable to turn a hair, left, at a complete loss to understand Chloe’s attack on his pre-80’s lion like locks.
Jack shook his head sadly, as he drove home to a safer environment. It would not do with Chloe and Jack realized he would have to break her heart at some point but he would do it in the nicest way possible.
The End