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“Thahk you so muh baby, I uhv you.” Andrea, faced pressed against the adjacent wall, eyes deeply locked with mine, slurred past the finger hooked in her mouth. It was about all I could see besides the massive dark brown hand pressing her head to the wall, about half a C cup tit in a candy red bra, and the unnerving repeated impact as the whole view bounced with a steady abrasive cadence. That, and a big fucking door that said 313. This wasn’t how my night started, and I only wish I could say its how it ended. But before I go into how it got worse, I guess I should start from the beginning.One year we’ve been engaged, and to celebrate our soon coming wedding, we wanted to taste the wild side a little bit and venture out for a threesome. Needless to say, it didn’t go as planned. We ventured into the city and found a dark, loud, and crowded club. Andrea and I danced and drank for an hour and we (she) racked up some attention.Andrea is a tan 5’3” fitness girl with long wavy brown hair,. It was hard for her to believe he wasn’t in her life. His absence would come to her like a thud and bring a burning ache to the back of her throat where she held back the tears that wanted to burst out. One day, six or so months after Jonathan’s death, a stranger walked into the diner. She noticed him lean his bicycle up against the railing on the steps to the entrance. He was probably in his late forties, she thought, and wondered what his story was. He started coming in every afternoon at one-thirty and always ordered the same thing, black coffee and a slice of apple pie. He was quiet and somewhat shy, but, after the second day, Emily asked his name so she could greet him when he came in. She liked the way he smiled and looked at her when he ordered his pie and coffee, which after a few days, he didn’t need to do because Emily just said, “Hi Walter. Let me guess--apple pie and coffee?” Emily usually worked from eight in the morning until two or two-thirty, depending on how much.
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