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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

I was in
Mr Atkins' room
just finishing
the bed making,
when Sophia came
in behind me
and closed the door
behind her.

I turned
to face her.

What are you
doing here?
I said.

Wanted to see you
about the parents,
she said,
looking at me.

What about them?
I said.

They not happy
about you
being there.

They invited me,
I said.

I know but they
are old fashioned,
and like
the old ways,
and they
are not sure
about you,
she said.

I shouldn't go
to your place
I said,
feeling relieved.

Best not to;
I tell them we
have parted,
she said.

Will they
believe that?
I said.

If you not there
and I am alone,
then they will
think that,
she said.

So no more
then by your father,
I said.

She smiled,
no more
as you call them,
she said.

I smiled
and said:
so what
now then?

We see each other
away from home,
she said,
sex there too
dangerous anyway,
she said,
her Polish accent

I recalled us
having sex
in her bed
that time
and always
listening out
in case her parents
returned too soon.

I said,
feeling happy
in some way,
but uncertain
in another.

We could
have sex here,
she said,
pointing to
Mr Atkins' bed.

Not here,
what if
the old boy
comes up here
and sees
us at it,?
no too risky,
I said.

Where then
we have sex?
She said.

I gazed at her.

She was serious.

She wanted
sex at work
in one of
the old boys' beds.

Mr Cutts' room empty,
she said,
he die last week,
bed empty.

We couldn't,
I said.

We could,
she said,
no one come,
we will be alone.

I thought of it
and the freshly
made bed
and the room
by Sophia
the other day.

Too risky,
what if someone
hears us,
I said.

We be quiet,
she said.

You be quiet?
You're like
a piglet
being slaughtered,
I said.

She smiled.

We can be quiet
if we want to,
she said.

She unbuttoned
her blue
overall top
and said:
it do us good,
get rid of tensions.

I recalled the sex
in her
parents' room
that one time,
like it was
the biggest
of expeditions,
the biggest crime.

Submitted: September 08, 2016

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