Inside the gleaming tiled bathroom I watched his first three fingers
spread lather across the
right side of his face. Eventually his razor revealed perfectly tanned smooth summer skin. The first time we kissed
Nivea for Men was the scent he left with me. The last
time we were together in a meaningful sense I couldn't figure out the
shower faucet. The night before we had
slept together. I hadn't wanted to move but my traitorous body couldn't
wait to use the bathroom. Normally my memory is good however I have no
idea who instigated our first kiss of the day.
Whenever I hear the expression the morning after I think of that
particular love fest. Every caress, each stroke, the way my greedy mouth
fastened on him was my way of showing him that when it came to sex I
could be just as powerful as he was. Previously I had heard women
bragging that they liked giving head to men. With a great deal of secret
smugness the naive me pronounced them liars. No woman could really enjoy the salty taste of warm
ejaculate sliding down her throat. Wasn't that why they were always
running to the sink and spitting into tissues?
The truth is when you love the person you're with your work can
easily turn into a labor of love. Before he left I stole his canister of
Nivea for Men. Late at night after a bad day the clean fresh scent reminds me of him. Today he uses a new brand
of organic citrus shaving lotion. The recyclable green tube smells sublime but I have to be honest: he's changed and I'm still
desperately clinging to my image of a man I used to know. The one who shaved with Nivea for Men.