A Dinner for Three

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 22, 2016

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Submitted: August 22, 2016



A Dinner for Three


Tipping his fancy little hat rakishly over one eye, he smiled at a lass with perfect breasts with a robust bum. He attempted to woo the girl to no avail. Instead, she tutted and fluttered her eyelashes in his direction, before leaving without a word. Pride made him frown and shake his head dismissively. Moving on to the next lass. He was having no luck in engaging in sexual misconduct this evening. With the sun dipping down behind him, he decided it was time he headed home. Turning back to the ladies who had been disrespectful enough to neglect his affection. He tipped his hat, bowed and said "May you live short, horrible lives."

He headed home. A dagger flashing out from the darkness, he pretended not to notice and kept walking as a woman screamed in the foreground. "Scum" he sighed, moving back to the scene to see a man above a woman, tearing off her clothes. "That's no way to treat a lady" he spoke out, obviously catching their attention as her screaming stopped alongside his movements.

His head dipped as he set a foot forward, his hands by his back. A soft 'tap' on the ground as he groaned lowly towards himself. "Now, thou hast a few options here." his gaze moved up to theirs, catching the man’s eye. The offender dropped the woman who yelped in response, crawling her way away to safety, calling out for help. Lucas grinned a mighty little grin. "Thou' could leave." his hand came back up to point up to the man. His eyes alight with hatred. The offender said nothing. "Or, I could beat you bloody." with that notion, the offender smiled. His teeth bared, luminous in the darkness. His fists clenched behind him. Finger still pointing. The offender moved, his blade dancing. Lucas stepped back, his arm coming out and connected to the man’s burly face. Sending the man back, sprawling at the sudden contact. Dropping the knife in the process. Which, Lucas picked up. "Now, I'm not a killer." his lips pulled into his mouth, gazing at the ground quickly. "But I may make an exception." Pushing the man up against the wall with the tip of the steel blade kneading into the male’s meaty throat, drawing a trickle of blood. "So, what's the answer?" he questioned, placing his index finger up against the man’s forehead. He grunted out his answer and Lucas let him go. Watching him run off. His fist was sore, he put the knife in his pocket and made his way out of the dark alley. Looking around; no one in sight. Then made his way home.

Stopping midway to opening his front door. The fresh aroma of a meal forcing its way up his nostrils. He felt bad, incredibly bad. His hand moved away, instead he decided to walk around the block, ditch the knife then come back. He had a beautiful woman, yet he had been out on the search for sluts which he didn't have a need for. He grumbled out his misery and moved his hand back, touching and gripping the door handle; turning it slowly to reveal a room. A hallway lit up with candles and wood stairs. Most doors were closed or ajar. One, remained open to the fullest extent. Inside, held a woman. Cutting up onions, her belly swelled up with the incoming baby they had planned. He smiled for a quick moment and creeped up behind her, placing his hat down on a counter, leaving it there. His arms wrapped around her belly quickly and pulled her to him, placing his lips against her neck quickly. "Hello, dove" he whispered, she was a bit in shock for a moment but warmed up to him quickly. Swaying with him as his thighs moved alongside hers.

In their little trance of a rhythm, he sighed. A lot like ballroom dancers, he spun her around on her feet. Leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers, feeling her hesitation for a split second. Before giving in, with her hand moving with the softest breeze to caress the back of his neck. She was humming, a tune that he could not remember; or, he could. But didn't bother. Their lips broke but their affection stayed, a small strand of love connecting their lips before popping off and landing just below his lips. They both stood still for a few moments, gazing into each other’s eyes. He was the first to pull away, leaving her smiling as if in a call. A call back to her, but he couldn't. His chest felt a pain of the darkness he had allowed to build. He needed to change, needed to live.

© Copyright 2018 David F. Wolf. All rights reserved.

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