Ants at BEES
Copyright© 2010 by Peter H. Salus
Chapter 8
We had a first kiss standing by my ute. I held the door as Diana got in, walked around and started up. She navigated us back. I parked as directed on Clara between High and Blenheim.
"You will come up for coffee?"
"Definitely."
She led me to a red brick building. "This is really a nurses' and intern's residence, but I qualified. It's not much. However, it's convenient and quite cheap. We walked to the second storey and she unlocked a door. "Come into my parlour."
"You don't resemble a predatory female arachnid," I said, smiling.
"Nor you a musca domestica," she responded.
"You win." I put my arms around and gave her another, more thorough kiss.
"That's a great prize."
"Diana. I like you a lot. But you need to know that I've – uh – been with other women."
"I'm not a virgin, Gordy. But I've been very careful."
"And with good reason. But you can help me."
"How?"
"Get me tested. Not just HIV. The other STDs, too. Before we know, I won't pressure you." I gave her another kiss. She turned it into a big one with a lot of tongue. She pulled back then directed her glance down to my hard cock, which was very noticeable at it pushed against my pants. She stared at my crotch for what seemed like an eternity and finally directed her gaze back to my face.
Her hand drifted down. It found my penis and the fingers molded around it, squeezing gently, before dropping lower to explore my testicles briefly. Then that hand, performing an amazingly sweet torture, slipped slowly back up to lie limp on my chest.
"I'm going to have sticky underwear," I said.
"Can you come to my lab tomorrow?"
"I suppose so."
"I'll just draw some blood and you'll be certified in a few days."
"Where's your lab?"
"Around the corner and across the street."
"I'm not near thinking about matrimony, you know."
"That's okay. Neither am I. But I need a male friend."
"So we'll be fuck buddies?"
"That sounds disgusting. Maybe more."
Where should I meet you and when?
"Same corner at eight? We'll go for breakfast."
"Fine. I'd best go before you put me in an awkward spot."
"And you me." She leaned forward and kissed me again.
I got up, adjusted me trousers and retucked my shirt.
"Tomorrow at eight. Sleep well."
I let myself out and drove home. I really liked Diana. But I liked Winnie, too. This was not going to be easy. But did it have to be an either/or?
Did I have a copy of Kierkegaard at home? I recalled buying a Penguin last year, but I know I read under a hundred pages. But I'm not sure I'm exploring the aesthetic vs. the ethical. Maybe there's another way of thinking about it. I had parked and was musing in the ute. I locked up and went upstairs. I got undressed, showered and went to bed.
[Kierkegaard's Either/Or (1843) portrays two life views, one consciously hedonistic, the other based on ethical duty and responsibility.]
In the morning I walked to the hospital. We had a mediocre breakfast in the cafeteria and went to Diana's lab.
"Is this the vampires' lair?" I asked. There were two other lab-coated women, all three laughed.
"Yes," responded one. "And I'm the chief. Are you ready for me to make a withdrawal?"
"Fangs a lot," I said.
"He's a good one, Di," the third remarked.
"Okay. Sit there and make a fist." The "chief" took a vial and a needle and expertly drew a few cc. She put a bit of cotton on the puncture and taped it in place. "Keep it on for a half hour or so." She turned to Diana. "Name?"
"G. Hollister."
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