The Delivery
"Aren't you going to ask me in?" Abby retorted irritably. "I don't particularly enjoy standing here and being gawked at." Without a word, I let her in. Sighing, she sat down at the table. "Got anything to drink?" she asked impatiently. I picked up a bottle of rye from the bedroom drawer. It was Carol's favorite, something she always had around. "Harge gave me a bottle years ago, and I've been drinking it ever since," she had told me the first time we had had a drink together. Well, not the first time since that was when she had drugged me. However, sitting across Abby, I had the strangest longing: I would have gladly been unconscious, drugged out of my mind, if only it would have meant being with Carol, her stripping me on my underwear, lying next to me.
"Where's Carol?" I asked her. "Home," Abby replied matter-of-factly. "Is she coming back?" She shook her head quietly. "No." I drew a quick breath sensing another, all too frightening reality setting upon me like a perpetual sunset. "Why?" Playing verbal ping pong with one word returns wasn't going to get me anywhere with Abby.
"Listen, Therese..." She had a serious look on her face. "You screwed up yesterday. Big time." As if I didn't know it already. "The divorce court is a month away and Carol needs to get her shit together, she needs to concentrate, alright?" Abby searched me for signs of intelligence. "Harge smells blood and he's not going to shy away from destroying her if given a slightest chance." She tasted her drink. "You have to stay away from her, am I making myself clear?" I stared at her morosely.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked her as if it had anything to do with the matter at hand. She took a quick breath getting ready to say something. "Would I be here in this sleezy hour motel if I hated you?" Abby quipped instead. "Here..." she handed me an envelope. It was from Carol. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
"Dearest, we could’ve had an accident driving to the motel this morning. You are reckless because you are young, and sometimes I fear nothing I'll do to you is going to satisfy you. Not that I think so very often, mind you. But you will understand this one day. Before it happens, I have much to do, and you, my love, even more (I guess?). And when it happens, I want you to imagine me there, treating you to the most breathtaking of gifts I can possibly offer. Well, I want it and I won't deny it."
Everything coming to a halt, to "full turtle" at the auditorium, only some hours earlier the same day, Therese stared at the letter her eyes positively hurting. The letter made no fucking sense. Why didn't Carol just say "wait" instead of sounding so incoherently melodramatic?
"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked Abby who poured herself another tumbler of rye. "You weren't listening? Are you daft?" Why do people keep asking me that? "Keep your distance, give it some time." She looked annoyed. "Cool it off for a little while!" As if that was ever going to happen.
My body was aching and it wasn't because of my close encounter with the auditorium furniture. It ached because it lacked Carol on top of it as if my slight frame were just too damn weightless without her pinning it down with her lustful limbs. Carol had even taken the memory stick with her. I couldn't blame her, not really, for I hadn't been able to keep it safe in the first place.
I missed her, I missed her, I MISSED HER. There was no fucking way I wouldn't go to her. Hiding my caller id, I dialed her number. The call was picked up. Choking tears, I couldn't get a word out of my mouth so I just breathed really heavily. "I’d love to continue this further… but this wire I think is tapped..." Carol whispered. "Hang on to yourself..." she murmured signing off, leaving me alone in the deepening darkness of the motel room.
I met Cantrell the following day. She had done some snooping around on her own and she was happy to help me. In fact her whole family would be coming to my aid. Her six brothers would disguise themselves as construction workers and hood the entire Aird mansion for emergency window repair. I must have looked quite confused since she needed to spell her plan out for me. Okay, maybe I am a bit daft.
Here's what followed. The next day when I was already reeling with lovelorn despair and sexual frustration, the Cantrell boys came to pick me up. Dannie was waiting outside with his van. Once I got in they told me to strip to my underwear and get inside a wooden box. Dannie assured me this was not some boyish prank or a kinky group sex fantasy. It would make total sense if I would just keep quiet as long as I was told to. Somehow this didn't manage to alleviate all my suspicions.
After a somewhat bumpy ride to New Jersey, the box I was in was picked up and carried out of the van. It was getting really warm inside the bloody thing. I couldn't quite make out what was happening around me but after a while I was apparently delivered inside. Anxious to get out, I waited for the promised sign to be freed of my troublesome state. My legs were shaking out of exhaustion having to stay in such a compromised posture for an extended period of time. I was almost ready to throw in the towel – first wiping myself with it, of course – when I heard footsteps approaching. Somebody was using a crowbar to open my cramped hiding place. Muscles tensing, I got ready to defend my life if needed.
Oh Carol...
My angel had come back to me! I couldn’t believe it, I was beside myself with joy. This was the best gift I had ever received in my entire life. A huge wooden crate the contents of which were quite unwrapped already, I must say! Her legs cramping, Therese stood before me in her calvin klein underwear and combat boots. Her hair was all mushed up and she looked like she hadn’t slept for at least 24 hours.
Her eyes welled with tears when she saw me. Her shoulders beginning to jerk, she cried silently for some time. I put my arm around her and caressed her cheeks, her temples, her nose and eyelids. “Make love to me,” she whispered, and it sounded like a plea, a prayer almost.
Those weird construction workers, no one had invited, had succeeded in cleaning the house out of Harge’s bugs (they found 27: 14 alone in the bedroom) and knocked out the drivers of all suspicious looking vehicles within a mile perimeter of the house.
I took Therese’s hand and led her to bed in my suddenly quite S/M themed bedroom – the black plastic hooding sort of strengthens such an impression. Now that I knew we were safe, I wanted to take my time with her. Tease her till she whimpered after my soaking wet mouth, begged me to thrust my capable, so easily lubricated fingers inside her – slowly at first, then picking up speed, making her climax the happiest, most delicious crescendo she had ever known – but before I did all that I surprised both her and myself.
I kissed her and she kissed me back.
You may find this an unimportant detail but it isn’t for it wasn’t just any kind of smooching. It started as a gentle, almost accidental brushing of our lips on our way to bed. My blonde and her dark brown head so close together, I could taste both the want and the love in the sweet water of her mouth. Her probing tongue moving expertly against mine, setting me splendidly up, making me throb and drip right onto her hand when she finally cupped my heat, I surrendered to her stupefying lip lock that knew no limits, no end. And I didn’t have to ask if this was right, no one had to tell me, because this could not have been more right or perfect. Holding me, guiding me through my sudden rapture, she smiled against my mouth.
The kiss went through us like a sphere. We’d better not do it in public. At least not just yet.