All she would say to me is, “I want you to rub it on me!” What could I do? I had to do it. Every night it was the same thing. She would go to the bathroom and return with this tube. It seemed as though she was a wholesaler of cellulite lotion and similar products. If it wasn’t a tube of cellulite lotion, it would be some cellulite massager.
She told me it was this nightly ritual that insured her legs remained as smooth and soft as they indeed were. Her buttocks glowed like a lighthouse lantern and she told me she needed to have me around to rub the cellulite lotion on those parts of the body she could not reach. I felt used.
She never hid the fact that I was not the only one. Her phone would ring late at night and she would answer it while looking at me with this sinister smile on her face. She would lie beside me as she spoke to the other, her breath smelling like cinnamon. I accepted things for what they were. I knew there was no love involved, only lust. It was still a great feeling.
I sometimes had to go to the pharmacy to buy her stock of cellulite lotion. She never left home without a tube of this substance which she said would keep her body looking young. She was in fact 10 years older than I was but looked much younger. Not even my mother knew her true age. We never once thought about revealing that she was indeed much older than she looked.
We would eat at the best restaurants. She paid the bill. She would insist that I eat more fruits and vegetables. She was a vegan and thought I should be too. She would always imply that her vegan diet and cellulite lotion were all she needed to remain younger looking.
