“I think maybe we should just call it quits and head home.” Words that dagger into my bare and exposed soul. Once the clothes come off, I can no longer hide what is beneath.
Standing naked in a shabby Scarborough hotel room, one of those seedy establishments that let people book them by the hour. Her words make me aware of my body, how vulnerable I feel standing there in a pile of my own panties and bra while she sits back on the bed in her self-assured finery of lace. The woman is fifteen years my senior, and even from across the room I can smell is a smoker. Sunk so low that a one-night stand who is the exact opposite of what I’d like to date, and she has the nerve to tell me when I am at my most vulnerable that I’m not her type.
How dare she do this to me! Do me the decency, turn off
