I walk into the party, and the hostess hands me an exotic cocktail. 'So how is it going?' she asks me with empathy. 'It' refers to what I call the 'Miserable Matter', which is my name for the fact that Leo left me for a younger woman a year ago. The worst thing is that, in my dog-like faithfullness, I never knew that he had been sleeping with her for three years already. 'You look good'. I nod, and see that she is not the only one who noticed. A small, slightly compact man smiles at me with desire.

Later in the evening I get to talking with him. His name is Arie and he is definitely not handsome, but there is something I find attractive about him. I like the fact that he brags about his status and tries to convince me that he has an Interesting and Important profession. He seems to shout 'I make a lot of money and travel all over the globe. If you knew the things I have seen... I've seen quite a few corpses already- what creature can get through to me?' Anyhow, he tittilates me. And a few cocktails later I am standing in the middle of the room, French kissing with Arie. He asks me if I want to come with him and puts on an expensive overcoat.

The taxi driver looks at me in a naughty way, as if he sees right away that I am wearing a mop, and pegs my companion with one look. Arie is very drunk and starts touching me. The taxi driver winks at me in the rear view mirror. Arie give him the name of a street. 'Come on,' he says to me, 'Do you want to do a line of coke first?' The taxi driver looks at us with scorn. I answer 'I don't know, if you want to... I've really boozed it up enough already...' Slightly disappointed, Arie looks at me. I raise my shoulders, I don't care. We stop in front of his house, in Beacon Hill. Arie pays and gets out. The taxi driver opens the door for me, and when I get out he whispers: 'Okay girl, good luck tonight, with your mop', and nods in the direction of my companion. 'I thought you meant my headwrap,' I whisper back. 'I'm really wearing a mop, look.' 'Damn, you're right!' the driver says.

The size of the living room and the expensive furniture impress me. Arie starts to kiss me. He pulls at my clothes wildly, and the buttons snap from my grey jacket. Pretty soon all our clothes are on the floor, and we go into the bedroom. When we are lying on the bed he says: 'I don't like you naked. Go into the living room and put on your jacket.' His tone is demanding and I obey him immediately. I come in wearing the jacket, and hear him groan. 'It's not right yet' he says. 'Go back and put on your pants.' I immediately do as he says, and hear him groan again. When I enter he says in a hoarse voice: 'Your heels, you're forgetting your shoes.' I get my shoes and walk back into the bedroom, wearing my high-heeled pumps. He is lying on the bed, pulling at his cock. 'Stand over me' he orders. 'Push your jacket aside, I want to see your tits. Open your pants. Yes, that's good. I want to see you touch yourself.'

For at least thirty minutes he will not let me touch him, I just have to play with myself and not take off any clothes. He comes close to me, smells me, moves with my movements, but does not touch me at all. 'You want it too badly,' he says. 'No! No wanting.' I finally fall over on my stomach, clenched with excitement. I want it so bad. And finally, as a finale, he roughly pulls my pants down; he yanks my hands behind my back, which makes me have to stretch out; then he lets go of my wrists which makes me sigh and relax, unaware of him and at that moment he suddenly penetrates me - once. I groan with pleasure, and he suddenly pulls out again. I make disappointed grunts and he starts to lick me like a mad dog. His saliva runs in a trail from mylegs to my cunt. He keeps teasing me- yes - no; starting-stopping - starting again for a bit longer. He enters me again. I feel his teeth sink into my shoulder. Flames are coming from his crotch- I would gladly die like this- and suddenly he shoots his cum, unexpectedly, growling like an animal. I come in gasps, gulping, hiccuping as if I have the giggles, an endless tremor - so extreme that the veins in my body are all pulsating and I feel weird pings everywhere. My clothes stick, my body is drenched in sweat. I take off my clothes to fall asleep, but lie awake...

I toss and turn in the big bed and look at the man lying next to me. He snores and I like that- usually I am the one snoring and falling asleep right after I come. His face is weathered and has acne scars, his mouth is hanging open. I carefully climb over him and get my cigarettes and an ashtray form the living room. He wakes up briefly when I settle myself next to him with a cigarette. He looks up and falls asleep again. I smoke and feel so tired. With Leo in my mind, I fall into a restless sleep.

It takes a while to realize where I am. Arie yanks my arm in anger and hits the mattrass with something, the room is filled with smoke. I grasp what happened: I fell asleep with a burning cigarette and the sheets caught on fire. The smoldering mattrass is , but there is a hole in the sheets now. Arie opens the window and the smoke drifts away; all in all it's not very serious and we both fall asleep.

The next morning we have an elaborate breakfast, with eggs benedicte and capuccino. I leaf through the newspaper. When my eye is caught by the page advertising escort services, I ask him 'Hey, do you use callgirls a lot?' He pretends not to understand me. 'Come on,' I persist, 'you can tell a girl exactly what you want her to do. You don't have to be ashamed of anything!' And in the most understanding tone I have, I persist, hoping he will satisfy my burning curiosity. 'Over here...' he hesitatingly says, '...not so often' 'But more often in Latin America,' I guess and from the way he looks I see that that's exactly how it is. I wink and keep reading the paper.

Over muffins and coffee Arie and I talk about art and politics. Very superficially , very nice. I feel comfortable with him. From his intonation I understand that he considers me a one-night stand, and that hurts my feelings a little bit. But I guess I should just give in to that, for now. I'm sure I'll run into him somewhere. And I have left my traces in his life: a hole in his sheets, a mop in his bathroom...