”Piss off, you damn pig”, she screams with a shrill voice out of the open window, “You’re ruining my life, don’t you get it !!?!”.
The wind has caught hold of her long blond hair that flutters in front of her perfect face and partly covers her beautiful features in a flirtatious way. I can almost feel her, feel her face, caress it, as if I were her hair softly stroking her cheek only controlled by the unreliable but still calm, loving and incessant movements of a breeze.
“Help!” she screams, “Help me!”
There is no one else near her, no one to hear her cry out. Only me on the pavement. But I know that she screams to me, only me.
As she stands there covered by a big towel that she feverishly tries to hold close to her, I can clearly see the outlines of her big well-formed breasts that vainly try to draw me to her. “Not yet, not yet”, they are saying to me, “we are not ready for you yet, the game hasn’t come to an end just yet”.
The nipples are hard and almost seems to penetrate the towel. If only they would. She is aroused, it is clear that she wants me know. My erection is uncontrollable know, and I must focus to remember to breathe. I can feel the scent of her clean, feminine body that reaches me, and I inhale her in deeply, as deeply as I can and feel the ecstasy all the way to my fingertips, when it happens.
She looks at me with entreating, tired eyes. “Won’t you please leave me alone”, she yells.
“You have a restraining order, I am going to go in and call the police right know”. She has managed to find a camera. I smile. I always do.
But I can see through it all. I can see that she is aroused and that she wants me. I can see through her, all the way to her subconscious, to her soul. It craves for me. It is all just a part of her game.
“Why don’t you stop it now?” I think, “Can’t you feel how hard this is for me? But yes, I’ll leave now. Everything for you, my darling, my everything.”
She slams the window with a bang, and I head home to change clothes. While I am changing my moist trousers, I am thinking about her big almond-shaped blue eyes and her wonderful smile that is always mixed with the insatiable desire, which I could trace behind her smile back then in the doorway.
She entered the café, when I had finished my newspaper and my daily espresso, and I held the door for her. She smiled at me, and it was love at first sight. I don't know how such a beautiful woman could fall for a little fat man like me, but there was no doubt, it had happened. From the bench by the fountain opposite the café I could watch her take on her apron and begin to wait on the customers. Her working day lasted seven hours, and I did not realize until I got home that I was cold and soaking wet. From the bench I watched her when she left. I smiled at her, and she looked at me like she did not have the faintest idea who I was. The game was on, a game that ruins me. If only she would stop the game.
Busty blonde, with a tan
and with beautiful eyes. Height 178
Luxury. Also Greek
It says on page 53 in the add in the contact section. With shaking, sweaty hands I pick up the phone and dial.
“It’s at Lonnie’s”, it sounds at the other end. I cannot bring myself to say anything, but falter some inarticulated sounds.
“What can I do for you? I offer French, Greek, Danish, you name it.”
“Do you deliver?” I ask and then hate myself for being unfaithful. But it is her own fault. If only she would stop all the dubious games.
“Yes, but then it costs extra”
“It’s ok. I want you for a long time. Don’t worry about payment. Money’s is not a concern.”
The whore lies on the floor in my living room and gurgles in her own blood. If only she would die soon so I could have her buried in the garden with the others. With my girlfriend fresh in my memory from this morning, it was almost right when I took her with my eyes closed and punished her for her way of destroying me. She makes even more of a mess on the floor now, and she is no longer beautiful. I am ashamed of my infidelity. Her long blond hair is entangled in blood and I cannot see her eyes. Thankfully she does not look alike anymore and remind me of what I have done. If only I could soon get the mess cleaned up.
Suddenly someone knocks on the door. I look at the whore, who has finally stopped making sounds. The living room looks like a slaughterhouse. There are overturned chairs and blood everywhere, my clothes and my hands are splashed with blood, and I can feel scratch marks in my face.
There's that sound again, and I can hear a man yelling, “Open up. It’s the police! We know you’re in there.”
I do not answer and hope that they will go away.
“We bash in the door if you don’t open. This time you have gone too far, we have pictures. You should have stayed away from her. You have a restraining order. You will be sent to prison now!” the policeman shouts and knocks again.
I can hear that the policemen kick in the door. There is nothing I can do anymore. Her role-playing has gone out of control. I will have to help her.
© Copyright 2016 Andy McMolan. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Thrillers
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