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  • Brian M Winningham

Mrs. Withers

Mrs. Withers, Velda if you will, was standing in front of the full-length mirror wearing nothing but her open-toed pumps. At 48, Velda was in fantastic shape and seemingly very proud of her taut young-looking body. In fact, the only place she looked old was in her face around her eyes.

After fully scanning every inch of her frame, she finally glanced up in the mirror at Tommy. He was lying naked on the motel double bed. Well, he was nearly naked, black socks on his feet and perched on the back of his head was a fedora. Clenched between his teeth was a huge nasty cigar, belching black smoke up toward the ceiling.

“Put that awful thing out,” Velda demanded “and take off that silly hat.”

Tommy kept puffing, not answering straight away. He was busy studying Velda’s behind.

“How do you do it, Velda?” he suddenly asked “Hell, my butt wasn’t that taut when I was 18.”

“All you have to do is work out, Tommy. I just do it three times a week, plus my extra-curricular activities don’t hurt either.” she said with a little sexy giggle.

Velda finally gave the mirror a rest and turned looking sternly into his eyes with slightly arched brows. He grinned at the edges of his mouth and eyes and stabbed the cigar out in the ashtray on the bedside table.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and patted the empty spot beside him and said, “Come sit down, honey. I need to tell you something.”

“I really need to go, Tommy” she said, while lowering herself to the spot he indicated. “I’ve got to get Ed’s supper on real soon or it won’t be ready when he gets home.”

“Did you know I saw Ed yesterday? Tommy asked.

She looked up at him, nostrils slightly flared. “What did he want, Tommy?” a slight twinge shading her voice.

“He came to my house, Velda.”

“Oh my god! What did he say?”

“I can’t see you anymore. We can’t do this anymore. You should stay home or go out and spend his money. Anything but this. I mean, shit, I knew I wasn’t the first one, Velda, but he knows it’s me.” Tommy said all in one rushed breath.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! What am I gonna do? Tell me what he said, Tommy!” she screamed as she yanked at her clothes. Trying frantically to dress as if actually caught in the act.

“What do you think that he said?! He said we can’t do this anymore, Velda. That’s exactly what he said.”

“Tommy, I’ll call you later. We’ll talk, she said walking out the door and slamming it behind her.

Tommy just sat there, nearly naked and smiled. Then he reached for his cigar.

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