Hour Glass
Story Codes: MF, Consensual


Hour Glass
by Ilan Herman


A smiling Jeremy entered the juice bar. “Good morning, Maria, I’ll have the usual.”

“Buenos dias,” Maria said and returned a smile. She fished a dozen carrots out from a plastic
container, shoved them through a noisy juicer, and then drained the creamy-orange liquid into a
Styrofoam cup.

“Enjoy,” she said and handed Jeremy the carrot juice and accepted a five-dollar bill from which
she deducted $3.95. Jeremy placed the change in the tip jar and drank the carrot juice.
Disposing of the cup in the trashcan, he said, “Good carrot juice!”

 Maria smiled. “Gracias, Señor.”

 She had an hourglass figure that made a man stand up and take notice. Pouty lips, dark-brown
eyes, and high-cheekbones, Maria was to Jeremy the epitome of woman, and he was about ready
to disclose his intent.

 “How’re the kids? They’re seven and nine, right?”

 Maria nodded and smiled. “You remember. They’re good.”

 “Would you like to go out sometime?”

 Jeremy sported a tidy goatee and had a muscular body and gentle blue eyes. Why he found it
so difficult to meet women was a question he’d often asked himself, and he decided it was
because of his financial status. If I were rich, he thought, I’d be besieged by women and
considered a good catch.

 Maria smiled. “I’ll go out with you sometime.”

 Ready to break into song and dance, Jeremy remained reserved. “Cool. When can I call you?”

 Maria scribbled her number on a napkin. “Thursday’s my day off. Let’s go see a movie.”

 His heart racing, Jeremy nodded casually and placed the napkin in his wallet. “Yeah, a movie
would be cool. I’ll call you Wednesday?”

 Maria nodded. “That would be nice.”

 Walking out, Jeremy experienced a new, softer reality. There’s a woman by the name of Maria
whom I find very attractive, he thought, and it seems she likes me too.

 Then doubt tarnished his joy. There’d been times when a promising smile from a girl had turned
to bitter disappointment as she abruptly changed her mind for no apparent reason, disposing of
him callously by saying, “I’m back with my boyfriend” or, “I just broke up with my boyfriend and I
need my space.”

 Jeremy could not allow pessimist thoughts to cloud my wishes, and decided he must remain
positive and meditate on the promise held in Maria’s hourglass figure.

   They met at four o’clock in front of the theatre, for a matinee of X Men. Maria mentioned she
had only until seven, after which she had to get her kids who were staying with her mom.

 Jeremy insisted on paying and Maria didn’t object. They loaded up on popcorn and soda and
entered the theatre–a modern viewing room, with stadium seating and a big screen. The theatre
was empty.

 Jeremy said, “X Men has been playing for a few weeks. I guess everyone’s seen it by now.”

 Maria smiled. “I like private screenings.”

 They had a short exchange about the seating choices, with Jeremy saying he could not sit too
close, and Maria requesting not to sit too far, after which they settled on row 17, seats J and K,
about 65% up the slope. The lights dimmed and a large, noisy, colorful display emanated from
the screen.

   Reaching into the popcorn tub and fishing for kernels, their fingers occasionally touched.
Soon, there were only non-popped kernels left, and Jeremy and Maria ended up finger-tangled at
the bottom of the tub. Maria pulled his hand out and placed his middle finger in her mouth; her
pouty lips licked off the salt, and she purred, “You taste salty. Are you salty down there too?”

 Jeremy was at a loss for words.

 “Why don’t we find out?” Maria got on her knees, between his legs, and smiled up at him.

 “Maria, what’s goin’ on?”

 “I like you. Do you want me to stop?”

 The screen erupted in explosions as the forces of evil attempted to destroy the heroes who
shape-shifted and fought back. Maria unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly. Jeremy was
petrified.

 Her hands were soft and warm, and her lips and tongue were . . . Jeremy wasn’t petrified
anymore . . .

   When he was finished, Maria tidied up and commented. “You are salty down there. Can you
get some more coke?”

 After the movie, they went to Starbucks and each had a double espresso. It was almost seven. “I
need to get my kids,” Maria said and gave Jeremy a hug and a kiss. “Movie next Thursday?” she
asked.

 Jeremy only had time to nod before Maria was gone.

   So it continued for several weeks. When Jeremy asked if she had more time, Maria said she
didn’t, and when he asked to meet her kids, Maria didn’t think it a good idea, saying she came
from a religious family and didn’t want them exposed to men she was dating.

 “You date other men?” His voice quivered.

 “I like men.” Maria stared him down. “And they like me. Don’t you?”

 He did, her hourglass figure becoming prominent in his life. “So you’re not looking for a
boyfriend?”

 Maria shook her head. “No more boyfriends. I like boys and I like friends, but I don’t like
boyfriends.”

 Demoralized, he asked. “Do you want to sleep with me, or just keep meeting at the movies?”

 Maria contemplated. “Okay, next week get a hotel room, a nice one.”

 Therefore, he did, and experienced her hourglass naked, sloping curves, soft and warm. Maria
was playful, passionate, and seemed to delight in his body, yet confused thoughts plagued him
when he looked into her eyes. She would return his affectionate glances, but only for a short
while, soon averting her gaze and searching for the TV remote.

 A few weeks passed. They met at the hotel every Thursday and Maria’s hourglass figure
emerged to comfort Jeremy, but also to confuse him, as it dominated his life, leading to
hallucinations and loss of productivity. Many hours passed fantasizing about the upcoming
encounter and lamenting its demise—an emotional rollercoaster picking up speed by the day.

 Thursday nights were the worst. After Maria left to pick up her kids, Jeremy would spent the
evening in the company of a bottle of gin. Fridays were rough, as remnants of gin worked their
way through his tortured kidneys. The weekends were sad, but provided distractions, including
sports on TV and nightclubs with rock-n-roll bands. Many women attended the nightclubs, but
they ignored Jeremy for the sake of younger men with buzz cuts and piercings. It seemed every
woman had a tattoo on her lower back. Jeremy pondered whose idea it’d been to start that trend;
he found it annoying, as he did pierced tongues, lips, noses and painted-on eyebrows.

 On Monday, Jeremy returned to work, crunching numbers for an insurance company. He’d been
at it for ten years, thinking it was but a stepping-stone to one day owning his own business, but
“one day” had become fleeting in its arrival and mutely tucked away.

 Tuesdays were better—the meeting with Maria glimmering on the horizon, and Wednesdays
were good—the imminent arrival of Maria’s hourglass figure produced a giddy, childish
excitement.

 On Thursdays, Jeremy worked until noon, and then went home to prepare for the date with
Maria—a complex ritual he’d come to love, and that involved soap, shampoo, shaving cream,
aftershave, deodorant, cologne, mouthwash, toothpaste, gel and talcum powder. His clothes too,
were fresh smelling and ironed to perfection.

 Then it was time to drive to the motor lodge and wait for Maria. She would arrive and sooth his
soul for a few hours, only to depart, leaving him thoroughly depleted and facing another week of
rollercoaster rides.

 Maria was clear about her needs: Jeremy was a sweet man and she enjoyed his company,
however, she was not falling in love with him or anyone else. She dated two other men and liked
the variety. Maria said she knew lots of men who operated that way, keeping several girlfriends,
sometimes while being married.

   Three months after Jeremy had asked Maria out, he had yet to visit her house or meet her
children, and she had never visited his apartment or socialized with any of his friends, who had
become distant, as Jeremy found it difficult to mingle, engulfed as he was by Maria’s hourglass
figure.

 Then Maria took a two-week vacation to visit family in Mexico. Jeremy was miserable. He found
increasing comfort within the gin bottle, and called in sick twice while nursing hideous hangovers.
Deeply in love with Maria, Jeremy submerged in waters once clear with promise and passion, now
murky with obsession, stagnant with alcoholic visions of jealousy and need.

 When they next met at the Motor Lodge, Jeremy was so anxious he couldn’t perform sexually.

 Maria let out a tiny snicker, then pursed her lips in thought and said, “I think your penis is telling
me it doesn’t want me anymore.”

 Her tiny snicker like a spear to his tortured brain, Jeremy vehemently insisted that, to the
contrary, his penis had lost its equilibrium precisely because it was beside itself with joy and so
very excited.

 Maria sighed. “I guess you know what that means.”

 Jeremy wasn’t sure, and Maria softly said, “I’m not angry with you, but I can’t see you anymore.”
She would not elaborate, her eyes avoiding his tormented gaze, while her hourglass figure
disappeared forever into a tight pair of jeans and a low-cut shirt.

 “What are you doing?” Jeremy cried.

 Maria looked gently into his eyes. “I had a great time with you, but I need my space. I’ll call you
in a couple of months.”

 She walked out, leaving Jeremy to live an intolerable life.

 That, he could not fathom…


© 2009 Ilan Herman


Ilan is a 44 year old musical producer with a passion for writing good fiction. Born in NYC he now
reside in Northern CA where he's raising my daughter Emily. Ilan has written eight novels and
many short stories. My music webpage is
www.emily-music.com comments can be sent to
ilanherman@msn.com