I stared at the small screen without blinking until my eyes burned—afraid if I looked away I’d miss something. Colors and light flickered over me and cocooned me in the deeper shadows of the dark room. My hand clutched a batch of popcorn, tight. I wouldn’t even take time to eat it. I’d never seen the actress, but she had me riveted, especially after I’d dared to raise the sound of the speakers. That sent me over the edge. Oh my, God. Every gasp felt like my own. Goose bumps raged down my neck and arms, followed by the heat of another hot flash. I licked my lips as perspiration trickled from my scalp.
When the phone rang, I jumped.
Popcorn went flying.
I made the mistake of glancing at the phone display for caller ID. Floaters drifted across my eyes, black dots that shifted wherever I looked, like pesky gnats. Old age definitely wasn’t for sissies, my optometrist had warned me, after he explained floaters were normal for people of a ‘certain’ age. I had to blink twice to see who’d called.
“Shoo, fly.” I took aim and swatted at the biggest floater in a game I called geezer Skeet.
I recognized the number before I saw the name. Anyone else I would’ve ignored, but my daughter Grace was an intuitive force of Nature. She’d pester me and make me regret I hadn’t picked up, as if I hung by the phone waiting for her calls. I compromised by wiping my hands and muting the sound, but I wouldn’t stop watching.
I licked my buttery fingertips before I wiped them off with a napkin, only half-listening to what my daughter had to say as I reached for my wine. Sometimes I pretended to be hard of hearing. Grace’s voice usually broke through my fixation on the screen, but not tonight.
Oh, God. He’s coming. She’s gonna get it now.
I nearly choked on a big gulp of burgundy wine. I couldn’t look away. All I wanted was to slam down the receiver. Grace was the last person I should be talking to. She’d ruined everything.
“Mother, are you listening? You’re not watching another scary movie are you? You know they give you nightmares.”
“No, honey. I’m not, but your phone sounds like you’re talking through a barrel.”
My daughter sighed.
“I said I’ve got a guy coming.”
“Okay. What time?” I asked.
She told me, but it didn’t stick. Even if thoughts came with Velcro, I’d be hard pressed to remember stuff once I blinked.
Well, I’d blinked. Maybe a little on purpose.
“Write it down, mother. You know how easily you forget at your age. His name is Noah. I’ve already hired him. Remember, my Christmas present to you?”
I didn’t have to see my daughter’s face through the fiber optics to know she’d given me the eye roll.
“He comes highly recommended,” she said. “I’ll see he gets paid. Don’t tip him.”
“Right. Got it. Thank you, Grace.”
I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. I hung up the phone with my daughter still mumbling. The minute I ended the call, I turned off the mute button and my study filled with gasps and the titillating sound of flesh whacking flesh.
‘Stick it to me, baby! Oh, God. Yes!’ A woman cried out as a hard body young man pounded into her from behind.
More heat rushed to my cheeks as the shadows in my study closed in on me. I was alone with my addiction, one my daughter Grace had instigated when she bought me a computer on the off chance she’d send me an email. No emails came. The contraption had turned into a dust collector until one day when I found its real value.
I had discovered…computer porn.
© L H Merci