Nude usan nurses
I wanted to know how this new knowledge she’d gained would affect things. I could feel the premonition of disaster rolling around in my gut. Then she stood up off my lap and, facing me, pulled a black plastic bag free from the purse she still had strapped around one shoulder. The poster shook from the nail it was held up by but didn’t fall. I went closer to inspect the poster for damage, but I was hardly concerned with its fate, even after I discovered a spider web-shaped crack in the frame’s glass.“So I called Kelly,” she said, “and after work I stopped over at her place to borrow the porno.” She spoke the words casually, as if she’d simply gone to the grocery store to pick up eggs and broccoli. I hadn’t given any thought to the idea of her actually watching the porno. “Honey,” Susan said, no doubt noticing my consternation. If we’re going to be married I’ve decided that I need to see this.” She raised the bag in her hand and gave it a shake. The moaning and groaning sounds of sex continued to seep from the living room into the bedroom.But Susan liked it, so upon her wishes I had allowed her to hang it in our bedroom after we moved in together. I closed my eyes and tried to think straight, to figure out how I felt about all this.Susan looked at me again, unwaveringly this time, and spoke, “You did porn, didn’t you? Perhaps a simpler man would’ve felt relieved if his fiancée had found out that he’d starred in a porno and had let him off the hook not only without a fuss, but had rewarded him with sex.An old friend had apparently given her the poster, framed, for her birthday when she’d been in college. After the shower-and-then-some, Susan dressed hurriedly for work and then left the apartment.I wasn’t crazy about the poster at all, and I found the subject matter — the weeping woman — rather unsettling. When she was gone I went back into the kitchen, poured myself the last cup of coffee from the pot, and returned to the bedroom and sat in bed.
When the coffee machine finished I filled two mugs and brought them into the bedroom. “Thanks,” she said, her voice delectably raspy from the early hour. “Good morning, ladybug.” I went around the foot of the bed to my side, set my mug on my nightstand, hopped back in bed and, seeing that my fiancée was still content to rest, opened a book I’d started a few days earlier. With some yawning and stretching, she pushed her two pillows snug against the headboard and went from lying down to sitting up. It was lukewarm by this point, but this was Susan’s morning routine. Just as I hope whatever I did back in the day gets a free pass with you, even if it’s true that I haven’t done anything quite as remarkable as, let’s say, porn.” fter we’d finished talking Susan had to start getting ready for work.
While she was quiet, I thought it was a good time to speak up, to do some explaining. “It was when I first moved here, six years ago, that it happened. When Susan returned from work that day I was back on the couch, just like the night before. I’ll never bring it up ever again if you don’t want me to, okay? I hadn’t aimed at her poster, hadn’t aimed at anything, really.
I saw an ad on Craigslist and responded to it, and the rest is history. I turned my head and watched her come in the front door, slip off her shoes, hang her coat on the hanger screwed to the closet door, then turn to face me. You don’t have to watch it with me if you don’t want to.” I tried to laugh. I had merely thrown the book blindly in a state of frustration and something near to rage.
After coming in the front door, she went straight into the bedroom. I made room for her to pass and watched her leave the apartment for the second time that day.
After she’d gone into the bedroom I rose from the couch, curious to see what she was doing. She didn’t bother closing the front door this time.
From the bed I watched her peer on her tiptoes over the railing, naked.