BEACH ENCOUNTER
My Dearest Dulcina;
It is hard to believe that it has been six months since we met on the white sands of the Cape Sable beaches. The first day I saw you I watched as you provocatively stretched your lithe body on your blanket in the sand, and later when you walked by with your two small daughters, the fragrance of your perfume captured my attention.Your little girls are so charming and there can be no doubt where their golden blonde hair and crystal blue eyes come from; they look like miniature porcelain dolls; miniatures of you, my love.
I have been unable to sleep. I lie awake at night, thinking of you and that last enchanting evening we shared while walking our dogs on the beach; when we sat at the water’s edge, digging our toes in the sand while we watched the water break along the shore and how the stars sparkled and danced in your eyes; when we talked about our dreams and our lives and how unfulfilled we had become and how we let it happen. We both knew it was fate that had us find each other that euphoric night, as our dogs scampered along the sandy beach.
When we stood to go and our shoulders touched, you glanced at me and your eyes penetrated my soul. You smiled; how quickly my lips descended upon yours and your body surrendered to my trespassing hands and the soft thrust of my tongue. How we both wanted more but…
The letter arrived that morning. Her heart fluttered as she read it and her knees weakened. She had to sit down. She too had been unable to get that evening out of her mind. Was it the allurement of the moment, the musky smell of his masculinity as he drew her into him while they stood, alone, under the stars? Many times over the past few months while she worked alone, cleaning the house, she contemplated what it would be like to give herself to this handsome stranger. Was it merely a lonely woman, lusting for something that was missing in her life, or was it more? Could it be more?
She couldn’t deny the response of her body when he touched her and how quickly she yielded to his demanding kiss, wanting more.
He enclosed a key, a key to his motel room. He told her he was in town on business and that he would be there for the next week.
She clutched it to her chest. Should she go? Dare she go? She couldn’t believe how nervous she had become. If they had been alone on that beach, how far would that first kiss and touch have gone?
Something stirred in her. She had to find out. She would go. If he wasn’t there when she got to the room, she would wait for him. She would buy a new negligee and underwear, sexy underwear.
Her husband and girls were at a father-daughter function with the church youth group and wouldn’t be back until the next evening. She was alone. She needed someone; someone to hold her, make her feel wanted; make her feel special.
She drove into the motel parking lot and parked in front of the door with the same number that was on the plastic key holder he sent her. There was a new BMW convertible parked next to the room. It must be his, she thought, as she climbed out of her car. The sky was dark foreboding, threatening to open up with a heavy rain; at odds with that magical evening on the beach.
She inserted the key and was about to turn the door handle when the door flew open. There he was, standing there, shirtless in tight blue jeans, the muscles rippling on his flat stomach. Her heart fluttered, her knees became weak again. He was intoxicating. She wanted him and was so glad she came. This was going to be special. Something she could remember for the rest of her life. He gently pulled her into the room and closed the door behind her. He took her purse and placed on the table next to the bed and turned her around. He pressed his body into hers and kissed her hard on the mouth. She felt herself giving into the desire of her body, the lust that had been building up for months; since that first kiss and loving embrace on the warm Florida beach so many months ago. He pulled back and she opened her eyes and gazed at him. She was startled. His eyes were calm but his stare was hard and his mouth was compressed and turned down at the corners. Something was different. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a cold chill washed over her. Was this the man she thought she could give herself too? Immediately she knew she had made a mistake. She had to get out of there. She turned to leave. But he reached out for her; he grabbed her arm and threw her back in the room. The back of her legs hit the bed and she fell.
She looked up as he stood over her, her breasts rapidly rising and falling. She began to shake. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He grabbed her wrists and wrapped them in plastic straps, the kind the police use to restrain criminals. He climbed on the bed and straddled her body. He reached up and took a roll of tape from the bed stand and tore off a piece. He smiled down at her as he put the tape over her mouth. He shook his head as a muffled scream escaped her mouth. He pulled out a knife from the right front pocket of his jeans. He placed the point at the hollow in her throat. Fear covered her face. A small speck of blood bubbled up where he penetrated the skin. He turned the blade and cut down the front of her blouse, ripping it away from her body, exposing her black lacy bra. Next, he hooked the blade of the knife under the front of the bra and pulled it up, snapping the fabric away, exposing her small breasts. She noticed his breathing had become shallow and rapid, his eyes glazed over. It was at that moment she knew what her fate was going to be. She thought of her husband, Mitchell, and her betrayal of his love and trust. She thought of her two little girls and prayed that they would know better and not succumb to the weakness of lust and desire like she did; to be more careful and watchful. Who was going to take care of them; answer their questions as they reached puberty? “Oh Mitchell, I’m so sorry.”
She began to cry and then scream as the knife cut through her neck, severing her carotid artery. Her last thought was, “I wonder who is watching his dog?”
GIRLS NIGHT OUT FROM BLUE MAGIC
“One night, after we had a few glasses of wine, she told me some guy attacked her, beat her up and attempted to rape her after breaking in her apartment at the University of Georgia in Athens. The police knew who did it, but didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him.
“I asked her if she would like to get revenge on the low life bastard. She said she did.
“We found out he was from Macon, so one weekend we went down and paid him a visit. He lived in front of this cow pasture west of town off Highway 129 in a closed up gas station his family used to run. We snuck up on the place after dark. The screen door was swarming with flies. Inside, the place wreaked of stale smoke, rotten food and diesel fuel. In one corner stood a busted up cigarette machine. Above it hung a Rainbow Trout and a life-size cutout of Jayne Mansfield with an oil-stained hand imprint on her left breast. The cheap black and white linoleum floor was yellowed and stained and had chipped away against the far wall. The door to the bathroom was open and the lid to the rust stained toilet was up and dirty towels littered the floor. The mirror over the sink was cracked and dirty. An old condom machine was hanging on one corner of the wall. On the other side of the room was a counter made of cheap pine, and it bristled with splinters and rusted nail heads and an old cash register. Just the thought of that place makes me sick.
“He was sleeping in the back room on an old army cot. He was covered with a filthy sheet. A pile of soiled clothing lay by the side of the bed along with an empty Thunderbird wine bottle and a well used Playboy Magazine. He looked as filthy as the sheet and smelled worse. I never in my life saw a place as filthy as the one he was living in, not even one of the Mason’s flop houses in downtown Atlanta.
“We snuck up on him as he slept in his bed. He was snoring so loud I couldn’t hear myself think so I stuck my .357 magnum in his mouth.”
She continued with her story. “I bent over and whispered in his ear, Rise and shine honey bun, momma has a surprise for you and boy was he surprised.
“Now I gotta emphasize the fact that I ain’t a guy and this wasn’t downtown New York. This was Macon Georgia and I wasn’t going to put up with his crap, him trying to rape my sister. So I taught him a little, you know what I mean? I whacked him on the side of his head.
“It was night and very dark. I talked to him, not man to man, but holy ass terror to man. My sister was standing next to me. I could feel her shaking. I told her it was alright and held her hand as I stuck my gun in this parasite’s ear and asked him if he wanted to sneeze, if he felt a sneeze coming on.
“Hell, he pissed himself. The guy’s a burglar, for Chrissakes, and not a very good one at that. I whacked him again, hard on the side of the head and he dropped like a bag of Georgia peanuts. I left him there bare ass naked and told him I would ice him the next time I saw him, so he better stay out of Atlanta.
“My sister painted his little dick with my tube of lipstick. You can bet I threw that tube away when she was done.
“That evening sealed our friendship.”