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Authors: Andy Mandela

Clockwork Romance

BOOK: Clockwork Romance
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Clockwork Romance

Andy Mandela






Act I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7


Act II

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14



Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21






Act I


Chapter 1


Night. Insomnia settling in, making its home like a resilient parasite in my mind. It’s been doing so for the past several months. Now a good night’s sleep is becoming a luxury I seldom see.

I am Luke, and at the moment, I am alone in my bed. I toss and turn, trying to fall into sleep. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, then the wall, then finally the window, almost in an incessant cycle. I’ve recently awaken, so I have no idea what time it is or might be. All I remember is that I fell asleep around eleven-thirty, so for all I know, the time could be midnight or six in the morning. Do I dare even look at my clock? Thought
s race in my head, the next no more soothing than the last.

I’ve been alone for too long. Most of the girls I meet are only looking for a one time fling, whereas I want something more, someone I can spend my days and nights with, someone I can laugh with, share stories with, love. But here I am, at 28, and feeling sorry for myself because I fall for all the wrong women. Most guys would love
to have my life, but not me. There once was a time where I enjoyed it, but I feel like that time has now passed. Of course it has, or else why would I be feeling like this? Strange, isn’t it? Having a woman beside me when I wake up in the morning is something I haven’t had in a long time.

Thinking of past girlfriends only frustrates me more. Every single one of them I could have spent the rest of my life with, but every single one of them had to ruin it in some way. A few cheated, and a few gave me the old cliché, “it’s not you, it’s me” speech.

Now it is the beginning of summer, or at least my summer break. The semester which ended my third year in college was the other day. School really isn’t that important to me anymore. But who knows, maybe having a degree might help me find the right woman. Sorry, for a moment there, I felt a bit of humor coming on.

without thinking, I turn my head to look at the clock. The digital clock reads 12:58 a.m. in glowing red haunting numbers. I have two choices: lie in bed and let my mind continue to race into delirium, or walk across the street to the bar for a beer, or two, or three. Without any hesitation, I chose the latter. How convenient to live directly across the street from a bar. I’m no alcoholic, but the taste of alcohol has proven to calm my nerves in the past, so I don’t usually waste time to indulge myself.

I live in an apartment on the third floor of a more hotel-looking apartment building. I get out of bed, quickly throw on some clothes and grab my keys, some money, and head downstairs, all without a single thought running through my mind. The name of the bar was Jade’s Pub. The name was shined on by several spotlights hanging off the dark green exterior just above the sign.
I don’t know if someone named Jade owns the building or what, but it’s not like I care. All I know is that this is a good place to get beer.

I walk across the street, hands placed inside the pockets of my jacket, got onto the sidewalk, and head toward the door, keeping my eyes straight the entire time. I could tell from the outside that there weren’t very many people inside. To me, that’s a good thing, since I don’t
care all that much for crowded places anyway. I open the glass doors, and the doorman gives me a nod, signifying that it was okay for me to go in. I am a regular here, so he didn’t feel the need the check my I.D. I took a seat on a barstool and placed my elbows on the bar. Once the bartender noticed me sitting without a drink, he knew exactly what I wanted: a Chat Noir draught in a nice cold pint glass. He hands me the beer, then I pay him the overpriced charge that bars expect customers to pay these days. That’s not the biggest of my problems, I can afford it.

I drink, then drink, leaving no time for sipping. Time seems to go by so fast in a bar, because before I knew it, the time was already 1:23 a
.m., and I’m only in the middle of my second beer.

At the other end of the bar, I notice an incredibly attractive blonde woman sitting alone, just like me. People say you’ll never find love in a bar, but I can’t help but admire the beauty of this lonely woman before me. Why is she alone? Why this late? I need to quit pestering myself with stupid questions that
only waste more time. She looks just as much of a wreck as I do. I get up off my stool, beer in hand, and walk over to her.

“Anyone sitting here?” I ask
, thinking what a stupid question that was. I’ve probably already turned her off. She answered me with a simple “No.” I sat down next to her, both of us facing the bar and not each other. After a moment of just feeling foolish of coming over here in the first place, I decide to at least make conversation. If I don’t, then what I did would have been for nothing.

“I’ll start by saying that I didn’t come over here to hit on you. But personally, I like to have a good conversation while I’m drinking,” I say, hoping she’s listening and not tuning me out. I tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t make the situation uncomfortable, but I’m starting to
believe the point of no return has already come and gone. This woman looked to be around my age, maybe a little younger. She definitely didn’t look old enough to be in her thirties, but not young enough to be confused with a high school girl either. “I’m Luke, by the way,” I said.

“Bibi,” she said, making eye contact with me for about a tenth of a second while giving one of those slight smiles that most people feel obligated to give when meeting someone for the first time.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came over here for a little bit,” I muttered, noticing how glum her eyes were. She didn’t give a damn about anything I was saying. “Sorry,” I continued, “uh…” I turned around in my barstool and was about to get up, when I heard, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just that… I broke up with my boyfriend tonight and I guess you could say I’m kind of depressed.”

I told her, “Oh, well uh, I hope everything gets better for you. Coming from a complete stranger probably means nothing, but for what it’s worth, uh… I am sorry.” This girl was in the same boat as me, unlucky in love, depressed, and lonely.

“I can tell you’re a nice guy,” she complimented, “You… look like a nice guy.”

“Thanks,” I say. “You know I’ve always thought that when a couple breaks up, it’s usually the guy that goes to the bar and drinks.”

“Ha-ha,” she laughed, “You’re funny, too.” This conversation was going on like most of the ones I have with women, just boring each other with the silly details of our personal lives that we could otherwise care less about. While talking back and forth, I noticed her body language, the way her eyes looked, the way she smiled, just the subtle things most people wouldn’t notice unless they constantly see it all the time. I knew where this was going before we even got there, before she said the lines that would make this a done deal. The only thing that I can’t figure out, what I have trouble with, is the aftermath. Will she stay or will she go? That’s what I anxiously wait for. I didn’t care about taking it slow, I never do until it’s too late.

A few more minutes of seemingly mandatory chatting went by until she finally said it.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bibi asked, with a sparkle in her eye and a seductive smile on her otherwise innocent face. I didn’t feel like I was talking to the same depressed girl that I was talking to at the beginning of our conversation.

“Sure,” I answered, giving her an accepting smile as we got off our barstools. When we got out of the door, I told her, “I live right across the street,” as I pointed forward to my apartment building.

“Great,” she said with a bit of enthusiasm, now that we didn’t have to waste time looking for a place to go. It never occurred to me exactly how easy it was to score with a girl who was on the rebound. It didn’t matter. It was too late to turn back now. My mind was already beginning to race again. I imagine Bibi’s was too. We rushed to my room, trying not to say a word so that neither of us would get the opportunity to second guess ourselves. If this night got ruined, I wouldn’t be able to sleep for weeks.

I frantically got my keys out, opened the door, and we both went inside. The time it took to get inside my room felt longer than the time I
spent at the bar. I took my jacket off, she took her jacket off. There was a trail of clothes leading from the door all the way to the bed. Bibi sat down at the foot of my bed and rapidly took her pants off. I turn on the lamp to give the room a modest amount of light, so we wouldn’t be stuck with only the moonlight coming in through the window. I’m sitting on the left side of the bed, taking off my own clothes. I look over my shoulder and see Bibi’s magnificent body sitting at the end of my bed. Never would I be able to figure out why her boyfriend would want to break up with someone so stunning. There I go asking myself stupid questions again.

I stood up, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs when she asked, “
Do you have a…” I knew the last word of her question before she even finished asking.

“Yes,” I tell her. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a fresh condom. I kept it in my hand until it was time to put it on. The way Bibi looked in her blue lace bra and blue cotton panties gave me all I needed to put the condom on right then and there. I began kissing her in the neck, avoiding the lips so that things didn’t get too passionate, emotional, or personal. I didn’t mind, but didn’t w
ant to turn her off. We slowly move until our entire bodies are lying on the bed.

The first thing I
remove is her bra, throwing it aside on the floor. We roll around on the bed, touching, feeling, caressing, and having fun. I could tell that we were both living in the moment. As far as we were concerned, we were the only two people in the world. Outside of my apartment, outside these walls, nothing existed.

Bibi got me on my back,
then started to work her lips downward, kissing me from my neck to my stomach. This was the longest we had kept eye contact. She grabbed my boxer briefs with both hands and pulled them down to my ankles, then off my feet. I placed my hands over my face, as if my subconscious was trying to tell me how ashamed of myself I should have been. But it was okay, because in this moment, I wasn’t thinking about today or any other day. Perhaps that’s my problem, that I never think ahead.

I stare at the ceiling while a tear came to my eye. It was only
a small drop, refusing to fall. Without lifting my head, I move my eyes to look down towards the foot of my bed to see Bibi’s head slowly moving up and down, moaning along with each exhale. Now a new feeling was coming over me. I wanted this night to hurry up be and over with, but to also last as long as possible. It’s a feeling that I can’t describe, like it’d be possible anyway. Maybe I’ve just been lying still for so long, it’s giving my mind time to wander.

I move, muttering, “Oh my God… Come here… here, lie down,” amongst other things typically said during sex. I’m not even sure if I mean what I’m saying, like, “You’re so good,” or, “That feels so fucking amazing.” Most things are just a cliché in the bedroom.

I kiss Bibi the same way she did to me, though I pay more attention to her lower half, since a woman’s butt and legs are what I get turned on by the most. Breasts aren’t really as important to me as they are to other men. But don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a nice pair of breasts when I see them, it’s just that a woman’s behind and her legs are what drives me crazy the most, especially now during the summer months when girls are wearing short shorts and flip flops. But anyways, I digress.

I kiss Bibi between her bellybutton and her panties, those soft blue cotton panties. I move to one thigh, kissing one while massaging the other. Bibi raises her legs in the air, making an L shape with her body. I pull her panties off, raising them up toward her feet, then on the floor they go. I bury my face between her legs as her sweet aroma fills my nose. I had already lost track of time again, so for all I know, the sun could be rising any second.

My eyes look at Bibi’s face; she has her eyes closed. I can imagine what might be going through her head. She let out the sweetest moans, letting me know that I was doing a good job. When I had my fill, I crept up towards her face, moving my body between her legs. I kiss her between her neck and cheek as she wraps her arms around me. I put myself in, holding my hands on her hips. We take turns riding each other as we exchange “yeahs” and “mmms.”

A lot of women only know how to have vanilla sex, with no imagination whatsoever. I could tell Bibi was experienced, but of course I had to show her some new things, like positions she’s probably never heard of or been in before. For instance, the kind that lets the woman know that the man cares about her, rather just trying to get himself off. In one position, I had her from behind, while both of us were on our knees. One hand was massaging her crotch, while the other was wrapped around her body, embracing her, sending a nonverbal message that I didn’t
want to let her go… for now. Finally as I lay on my back with her on top, I feel like I’m almost ready to call it a night. I bring her up close, face-to-face, and in unison, we both feel it at the same time. Both of us feeling short of breath now, she climbs off and lays beside me, her body glowing and with a smile on her face.

This might be the best chance I have
at another real relationship. How many people hit it off that quickly and so well? Right as that last thought went through my head, Bibi sat up. Did she want something to drink? Did she need to go to the bathroom?

BOOK: Clockwork Romance
6.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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