Today’s post will be a the second of two short snippets of writing I read Friday night at our reading night gathering.
Today’s selection does contain some sexual innuendo and lip to lip contact . . . and black candles . . . you have been warned. Enjoy!
Fiction Snippet Two:
by Paul Darcy
It may have been the music.
It could have been the rum.
It may have been the alignment of stars . . . but I was pretty sure it was none of those factors except the one I didn’t want to think about.
She was my latest girlfriend, but I was pretty sure dropping the second ‘r’ would be closer to the mark. The things she did, the way she walked, the way she handled my . . . red light!
Shit, I’d nearly driven straight through it.
I was sure she had, at the least, cast a spell on me. Even if I didn’t believe in such nonsense, what else could explain it?
Yes, she was pretty. Yes, she was sexy and the way she knew how to handle . . . holy shit! I’d just run a red and nearly gotten into a collision. That’s it. I was heading straight home and parking the car before I got into an accident.
Safely in the driveway, I got to the front door and couldn’t, for the life of me, recall if I’d locked the car or not. I pressed the key fob once more for good measure and registered the double beep from the car’s horn letting me know it was locked. Good, but did I lock my apartment before I went out tonight?
I tried the door. It was open. Damn, but I was pretty sure I’d locked it. Though, after last week and Amy, I was always a bit unsure of everything. I went inside. It was dark and I turned on the hall light.
I made double sure the door was locked behind me. Yup, locked. I even looked at the bolt mechanism to make sure.
Once in the small kitchen I threw my keys on the table and made for the fridge. My hand almost touched the handle when I heard, "heya, home so soon?"
What the - it was Amy? She was in my apartment. I wracked my brain but couldn’t recall giving her a key. Maybe I did. Maybe I . . . awe hell, I just couldn’t remember.
"Hiya," I called back feeling like my life was suddenly not my own.
She appeared, like a ghost, suddenly, all diaphanous, glowing, radiant even. She was wearing a see-through nightgown. Now, I knew for sure I did not have that in my wardrobe. She must have brought it with her.
"Um, hey," I replied feebly, swallowing reflexively.
Before I could gain my composure, or even pull my hand back from the fridge handle she was on me, in close, pressing her lips against my own. Like a sudden jolt from of a powerful drug, I was overcome. My god she tasted good, and the feel of her body was overwhelming.
Amy removed her lips from mine and I felt as though I might drop from fatigue at the sudden pain from the loss of her contact.
"So," she said, "are you ready for tonight?"
Amy said it like I was totally up to speed on what ‘tonight’ was supposed to mean for us.
Wanting to not appear idiotic I replied, "sure, of course," not having a single clue what I was supposed to be all prepared for.
"Good," Amy said, and smiled her radiant smile, "follow me."
I was unable to resist. The way she smelled, walked, smiled. I nearly dropped right there, but to do so would not have allowed me to follow and so, through some force of will, I remained erect and obeyed her command.
She led me to my bedroom where, on the floor, were set many lit black candles and some design drawn on his floor with what looked like chalk. What the hell was this? But, looking at her form underneath her garments, thoughts of sinister plots fled my mind.
I sat down across from her inside the drawn designs and she held out her hands to me. I took hold of her hands, and she smiled at me once more. "Hecate," she began, "here my call."
And that’s when my doorbell rang.
I looked at Amy, and she looked annoyed. "Damn," she said, releasing my hands. "Don’t go away, I’ll be right back."
I sat there, looking at candle flames and taking in a deep breath of Amy’s scent as I heard her answer the door. Hey, it was my door, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t I be the one answering it?
"Wil," I heard her say, "what are you doing her?"
"It’s Rack, he wants us . . . now!"
"Oh, um, hang on."
Amy’s footsteps grew louder until she was standing beside me as I sat cross legged in amidst candles and drawings.
"Um, Billy," she said looking a bit put out I thought, "I’ve got to go out for a while. Mind just keeping the candles lit? I should be back pretty soon."
"Sure," I heard myself reply, "no problem."
More footsteps, the door banging shut and I’m sitting in my bedroom looking at candles I didn’t even know I owned.
Until next Sunday . . .