Gentrification Ch. 02

When she returns, she looks out the window again, gauging the height of the setting sun. After a moment, she rummages in her purse pulls out a cell phone, and dials.

"Ada? Yes, hi, I *would* really appreciate it if you would keep Pablo overnight. I also have one other big favor to ask..."

Her voice fades as she walks into the kitchen, finishing the conversation out of the hearing of her visitor.

--

Mrs. Medina has remained in the kitchen for a while, and after an initial gentle clatter of pots and pans, the smell of cooking pervades the apartment.

A knock comes from the front door, and Michael is torn between praying for help and morification that someone would see him like this.

"Un momento!" Rosa emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hads with a small dishtowl before opening the door. She makes no effort to conceal Michael's presence, and the young woman standing on the other side has a completely clear view of him over Rosa's shoulder.

A view she takes in for a few moments, before coming back to herself and addressing the Rosa (who made no effort to interrupt her examination). "Are you Mrs. Medina?"

"I am, you must be Ada's friend."

"She said you can call me Emily." If Rosa finds that phrasing odd, she makes no sign of it.

The girl continues, "I brought the things you asked for, I'm sorry it took so long, I've never been somewhere like that before."

Rosa laughs. "Me neither, dear. I'm just glad Ada knew where to go." She takes a black plastic bag from the girl and walks over to set it on the coffee table next to Michael.

Turning back to her new visitor, Rosa asks, "Can I offer you anything?"

Emily's eyes flicker briefly to Michael before replying, "No, I need to get back uptown, and anyway Ada said I shouldn't interrupt you longer than necessary."

"Well dear, perhaps the next time you visit the neighborhood we can have a longer chat. You're with Carl now?"

Emily nods. "Yes, and I really should get back. I hope everything works okay, ma'am, it was nice to meet you."

"You as well, dear. Adios."

Rosa closes the door and turns to regard the bag the girl brought. She has a thoughtful look on her face for a few moments, then shakes her head and heads back into the kitchen.

At no time during the last few minutes had she acknowledged Michael with even a glance, and he's surprised to find himself a little disappointed that he's not even enough of a concern to *look* at when she passes through the room.

Still, he stands in silence, and listens to the faint noises of cooking from the kitchen, awaiting his host's next appearance.

--

Night has almost completely fallen by the time he sees her again. She sticks her head out of the kitchen for a moment and says "Come sit at the table, supper is ready."

His stiff knees protest at the sudden motion, but he walks into the kitchen without hesitation and seats himself at one of the two places set at the wooden table.

Rosa sets a plate in front of him and heaps it with rice before laying a large chicken thigh on it. "Arroz con pollo. It wasn't my husband's favorite thing in the world to eat, but he liked it, and I was hardly going to serve you the fast food hamburgers that were."

She shakes her head. "It was the strangest thing about him. I think it was maybe because he had dreamed of coming to America for so long, and for a long time hamburgers *were* your country's culture, as far as the rest of the world was concerned."

Rosa goes to the wall and turns off the kitchen light. She then picks up a small box of matches from the counter and lights a tall candle she's set in the middle of the table. She pours two small glasses of wine, and then seats herself across the table from him. "Take my hands and bow your head now, so that we can say grace."

He does so, and from his host emerges a flow of liquid Spanish that he can't hope to follow, but it sounds reverent and heartfelt. Somewhere in the middle of the stream he hears her say 'Senor Blume', and feels a little thrill that she'd thought of him, despite himself.

She releases his hands when she finishes, and they raise their heads and regard one another over the flame of the candle. He's not sure, but he thinks he detects a faint smile. After a moment, she begins to eat and drink. Absent her word, he can do nothing but sit and watch.

In a few minutes, she finishes, and dabs at her mouth with a cloth napkin. Then she stands up and moves her chair to a corner adjacent to his place at the table, sits, and begins to carve his food. Lifting the first forkful to his mouth, she says, "Chew, Mr. Blume, and swallow."

They continue the meal like that, and every few bites she gives him a sip of wine. Eventually, there is nothing left on the plate, and she wipes his mouth with her napkin.

"I wonder if you expected a romantic dinner when our visit began, Mr. Blume. Come with me."

Michael trails her through the apartment to her bedroom, where she seats him at a small vanity at the corner. Flipping a small switch turns on a set of bulbs arrayed around the mirror, throwing his features into clear relief.

Pulling various jars and tubes from drawers in the vanity, she sets them in front of him. Lifting one and unscrewing it, she says, "You're a bit of a pale, shade, Mr. Blume, but let's see what we can do."

--

The result is a bit jarring. Michael's features are fairly fine boned, and between the close shave and the careful application of cosmetics, the face reflected from the mirror could easily be female, save the hairstyle peeking out from under the metal cap.

Rosa smiles at him in the mirror. "Not so bad, I think. I haven't made someone else up since I lived with my sisters as a child. Let me go get the final touch."

She disappears into the living room for a moment and returns with the bag Emily brought earlier. "The first party favor!"

Out of the bag she produces a dark mass that turns out to be a wig. She gently places it over the cap on his head and adjusts it until it falls naturally around his shoulders. "Perfect."

Looking in the mirror, he's forced to agree. There's nothing male about the face looking back at him.

She gently takes his hand. "Come with me, Mr. Blume. We did dinner and the makeover out of order, but the date isn't over.

She leads him back into the living room, where she turns out the lights, leaving the apartment dark except for the lights of the city outside the window. She leads him there, and positions him in front of it, looking down on the street.

She moves away, and he hears the rustle of clothing behind him, as well as the crinkle of plastic and a few sounds he can't identify. A couple of minutes later, the older woman presses her body against him from behind. He can feel the warmth of her skin, and the hard press of her nipples against his back. Her hands move around and run across his chest, and she hugs him tightly.

"The first night we were here," she murmurs against his back, "my husband and I, we stood here, looking out at the lights of the city, and moon hanging above it."

She points it out, hanging above the skyline.

"It would be romantic to say he made love to me as we stood there, but you have to understand how much stress we'd been under, for months, during our journey here."

Michael feels her hands move down to his ass, prying the cheeks apart. The rest of the contents of Emily's bag become clear to him then, as he feels the lubricated tip of a dildo begin to press against his asshole.

"He didn't make love to me."

The pressure of her hips drive the head of the phallus through the barrier of is anus, and the rest of the shaft begins to follow.

"He fucked me."

Rosa draws most of her length back out, and presses it home again. She slowly increases pace until her hips are slapping into his ass with great rapidity, and she's breathing hard with effort.

"Get..." she pants, "... hard... now!"

Michael's erection is almost instantaneous, bumping against the glass of the window as he's driven forward by Rosa's thrusts. One of her hands quests forward long enough to verify that he was hard, then it returns to his hip.

"I wanted... my husband to... fuck me." she pants.

"Not... a bank..."

She slams the dildo home and holds it there. "Now cum for me, you condescending little bitch."

The first rope of semen leaves a long trail down the window, the rest dropping to pool on the sill.

--

"Mama!"

"Buenos dias, nino! Were you a good boy for Ada?"

"Oh, he was more than that. We're more than even for my little favor yesterday, and Pablo can visit whenever he wants."

Rosa laughs. "I take it he made you one of his toys."

"And how. Speaking of how, how did your little lesson go?"

"He left very meekly. I'd be surprised if that particular institution bothers with this area for a bit."

"Did he mind you, mama?"

"He did, nino. Your hat worked fine. The light did go out after about an hour, like you said it would."

He nods. "It takes a lot of power. It would have been too heavy to be a hat if I gave it a big battery."

Ada says, "Wait, would the hat work without power?"

Pablo shakes his head.

Rosa says, "By the time an hour had passed, we'd established a... pattern in our conversation."

Ada looks at her for a moment, thinking about the items she'd had Emily retrieve for her.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side, Mrs. Medina."