The John Walker Story

Drops of hot water splashed against my skin, washing away the herbal soap along with dirt and sweat after a very long workout. Turning of the water, I almost turned it back on. The warmth and wetness felt safe, and somehow comforting.

Looking into the mirror, I could still manage to feel pleased by the sight of my own body. Shaped by countless hours of running and training martial arts, muscles are clearly defined and complemented by the pale and naked skin. It had been a long journey to this day.

A little less than a year ago my wife was killed in a car-crash. It was a severe blow, and it had taken almost a whole year to recover. But now, it felt like it was time to move on. And the way had been laid for it as well – Recently my body had started expressing urges and needs that I previously thought were lost along with my wife. A year had gone by without me even thinking about sex, despite the fact the we used to go at it like rabbits. But no more.

A very good friend of mine – Robert Parson, had voiced his recommendation: Get laid quickly! And I was now in the process of taking his advice.

It had never occurred to me to try and replace Shannon in any way. And that wasn’t my intention either. It was just that parts of me could no longer go without feminine attention. The kind of attention that would stain sheets, and maybe even the walls.

I towelled off, first myself and then got rid of the excess water that had gathered in pools at the floor. Leaving the bathroom in the same state as before, I walked into my room and started getting dressed; choosing a casual attire with loose cotton pants, a T-shirt, and a round neck jumper.

Walking down into the living-room, I was only a little nervous, and a little scared. But there were some needs that could not be denied. The living-room, and indeed the entire house, reflected my personality perfectly now. Organised without seeming strict, a need for comfort and attention to detail. The kind of house all wives tried to make.

Expectant, and maybe a little eager as well, I picked up the phone and dialed the number Robert had written down for me. It was the number for a cell-phone and as the phone started ringing, Roberts description of this girl came to mind.