Leela – Having Sex At My Parent’s Place With A Drifter, And The Transient Nature Of Things
Lee is a friend of mine.
I was at home a few months ago, staying at my parent’s place. No wait… I was at work. I get a random text message from Lee at about 4 pm. “Hey can I stay at your place tonight”
“Ok…” I think. Lee lives in Canberra. I live in Maitland. I haven’t measured personally but I think it’s about 500 kilometres away.
“Sure,” I text back.
I meet her at the station at about 11:00 pm, after she missed the previous two trains from Newcastle. She has hair this time. She hitched a ride all the way from Canberra to Newcastle with some guys whom she hardly knew, who were trying to hit on her friend. It was a very quiet car trip, they hardly talked… It was about 4 hours out of their way.
I don’t understand Leela’s life… I probably never will. Though a big clue to the mystery is when she told me:
“Well, I’ll move to a new place… everything will be fine for a while. Then things will start to turn bad, problems arise. So I go.”
So here I am standing in a suit in my studio, a 24 year old insurance salesman. Her a 20 year old drifter with just about everything she owns in a bag that weighs about 3 kg. I told her I admired that she wasn’t tied down. Truthfully, I’m even envious.
I took her to bed with me that night but I couldn’t really get it up. I took the top bunk.
In the morning I had an erection big enough to choke Annabelle Chong. I came down to the bottom bunk and fucked her brains out. It’s a difficult thing fucking on the bottom bunk. Doesn’t really allow for much creative expression. But I remember going from spooning to fucking, fucking really fucking slow… then getting on top of her and hearing my dad’s footsteps in the hallway.
Now there’s a towel placed strategically over the end of the bed, so when mum or dad burst in unexpectedly while i’m masturbating or fucking, I still have a 3 second delay to at least cover up before they can see me. Most of the time they just talk through the mysterious curtain. It’s good to have privacy.
The door opened and I pulled out and swung the doona over us and sat against the wall. Also meant dad couldn’t see Lee, but that’s more for dad’s protection than mine or Leela’s. She probably wouldn’t give a shit, I wouldn’t give a shit… but dad would prefix every sentence with “sorry” and get extremely embarrassed.
Funny thing is, it really wouldn’t be an awkward situation for us, and he needn’t apologise. The only thing making it awkward would be his incessant apologies.
Dad told me to mow the lawn or something and I said I’d do it. Maybe he left thinking I was whacking off.
I heard Dad leave for work and started molestering Leela again. It was good sex.
I lent her a hundred dollars because she was that skint and needed to get to Byron Bay to meet her friends. She got on the train to Byron. A few hours later I got on the train to Sydney.
It makes me think of this time a few weeks ago. My french friend Francis came into Melbourne for the weekend. He’d been off surfing in Torquay. I thought he might have disappeared or something, Ivan Milat, since he was meant to be in Melbourne three weeks earlier. We went out Saturday night to the Charlton and waited three hours to sing “Eye Of The Tiger”. Next night he came to get a drink with me and some girls. Then he left. Just got on the tram and *poof*. Sure I have him on Facebook and shit, but I never really know if I’ll see him again. Travelling is an insight into the transient nature of things. And also an insight into the transient nature of stuff.
A few days later I got a package in the mail. It was a book, with a note saying “Hey. Tried to transfer the money to you by the Internet but it didn’t work. Here’s a book with money in it. I haven’t read it. -Lee”
