by A. R. Braun
That made Don smile as he looked in the mirror in the bathroom and realized he needed a shave. “Me too. And I’m not putting you off.”
“No problem. Be here at sevenish again?”
“You bet, beautiful.”
“Woo! Okay, handsome. Bring me flowers or something. I’m a hopeless romantic.”
Don chuckled. “Sure, I will. Bye.”
“Toodles.”
Don put the phone down and raced to get ready.
***
A fortnight later, the realtor accepted Don’s bid, and he purchased a Pueblo-style home in Rio Rancho, right by Albuquerque. Don had been busy partly furnishing the house till it was cozy, getting the utilities turned on and opening bank accounts for his first paycheck, so he’d only talked on the phone with Fay every other night. He’d promised to show her the time of her life when the house was in good shape. Finally, the time had come.
He led her through two antique mesquite gates, and she marveled at the rock waterfall in the tranquil courtyard. Then he’d led her through the custom half-wide doors. As he brought Fay in (who looked smashing in her purple fuchsia shirt that exposed her shoulders, plus tight jeans and running shoes) he watched her look around in fascination as he had when he’d scored the place. The home bore block walls and wood laminate flooring. She gasped at the Vegas Achieva fireplace. And he had the deuce: The dining room possessed an impressive stone fireplace.
Don had furnished the place with a Sleep Number bed, a black leather couch, a widescreen TV, a Blu-ray player, plus some pots and pans, along with plates, glasses and silverware. Thank goodness the house already had a fridge and a dishwasher. Fay continued to survey the living room, then stepped into the kitchen, which bore Brazilian-granite countertops, custom handcrafted cabinets and a butler’s pantry.
“This is really nice,” Fay said. “Barren, but nice.”
Don came up behind her and put a hand on her smooth shoulder. “I just put in a shower massager, but haven’t used it. I’ve still gotta drive back to Illinois in a rental and get my stuff.”
Fay turned around and held her hands out. “Hugs.”
He held her, her soft frame enchanting. Again, the scent of her perfume and her shampoo intoxicated him.
“Congratulations, Donny.” She gingerly pulled away from him. Fay walked over to the French doors that led into the courtyard. She opened them.
Don followed her and stood alfresco with his hand around her waist. He realized he should’ve bought a grill. The view from the territorial-style home was a sweeping panorama of the Rio Grande river and the Sandia Mountains.
“Oh, shit!” Fay said.
Don rushed up behind her to see what the commotion was about. He caught her stepping on a scorpion. More of its buddies headed toward them. He gingerly took her arm, leading her inside. “Let’s shut out those monsters. God, they look menacing.” He closed the French doors.
Fay walked toward the couch. “We’ll have some kick-ass parties on the patio.”
“It’s a courtyard, Hon,” Don said.
“Whatever,” Fay answered. “We’ll have to deal with those creepy-lookin fuckers then.” She plopped onto the couch and rubbed the empty seats while the ripples around her hot ass faded away. “Whoa, baby, black leather.” She smiled and turned to Don as he stood by the couch. “You’ve got good taste, babe.”
“Only the best for the lady.” He never thought he’d have a hot chick calling him “babe” like in the commercials on television. Don flicked on the TV and the Blu-ray player. “Damn, it needs a setup. You have to have a degree to operate these things.”
“Gimme.” She took the remote. “Go fix dinner.” She fixed him with her vivacious eyes. “I got you.”
He chuckled and headed for the kitchen. Don had bought steak, roasted garlic potatoes and cherry cheesecake. The latter seemed eerily appropriate. He watched her smell the roses while she fiddled with the controls, then he pulled out a pot and pan and went to work on the steak and the spuds, spraying cooking oil in the pans first.
Don had the central air blaring. Most of the days had been mildly warm, the sun in the hotel patio bragging without backing it up. Yet the weather on his first date in his new house made frying eggs on the sidewalk possible.
“Can I help?” Fay was already finished setting up the Blu-ray player. Apparently, a genius hid behind all that blond hair.
“You can get the salad ready if you want,” he answered.
Fay already had the movie going. They’d decided on Death’ll Do Ya, a movie about a young couple crazy in love… until they got married and moved in together. Then they hated each other’s guts and tried to kill one other. Each attempt was an epic fail, for the other always happened to thwart the attempts accidentally.
A black crow flew into one of the French doors, then fell onto the ground.
“Oh!” Fay jumped up and opened the French doors.
Don left off cooking and jogged after her.
“Poor bird.” She cradled the crow.
“Watch out for the scorpions.” He shut the French doors behind him. He didn’t see any of the arthropod arachnids now.
Fay held the bird. “Poor baby.” It struggled in her hands. “Oh, I think he’s okay.” She released the wildfowl and it flew away. Beaming, Fay turned to him. “Am I a miracle worker, or what?”
Don laughed. “Sure, I’ll bite.” He sighed through his nose. “You doin the salad, or…?”
Fay opened the French doors and went inside. “You want patience and you want it now.” She walked into the kitchen. “Ooh, this place is such a palace!” She gave him a lusty look as he followed her in. “Play your cards right, and someday there’ll be little Don’s and Fay’s running around in here.” She let out what sounded like a nervous laugh and pulled the lettuce out of the fridge. Fay looked around for a strainer, then found one.
“Feeling at home in my kitchen already, huh?”
She let out a high, girlish laugh and bashed the head of lettuce onto the counter, then removed the stem. Don flipped the steaks and poured the potato mix into the pan after boiling the water.
Fay turned to him, putting her hands on her hips. The dying sun shone wanly through the window, highlighting her hair and creating an angelic nimbus. “Instant? Really? You need to let me take over this kitchen. When I cook, it’ll be from scratch all the way.”
Don cavalierly put his hands on her sides and kissed her. “My, how you take care of me.”
Fay gave him a flick of her tongue and smiled as he pulled away. “Oh, I’m gonna take care of you, all right.” She went back to the salad.
Don wondered if this could really be happening, or if he was dreaming.
***
They’d decided to eat in the courtyard. It featured a stone picnic table, and they watched the sunset fade behind the gorgeous mountains. Don was so glad he’d moved here he could’ve shat a brick. Then they’d had to make a popcorn run. Fay had giggled because he’d paid for a movie at the theater, though they hadn’t stayed and watched it, just so they could get real movie theater butter. The grocery store brands boasted movie theater butter flavor, but they weren’t even reasonable facsimiles. A little bit of spontaneity never hurt with a woman.
Then they’d come back and busted a gut while watching one of the funniest movies ever. In the film, the couple made up at the end, then decided to open a husband-and-wife hit man operation. Don had wanted to watch this one before renting the sequel, Mom-and-Pop Store, for the couple had a baby on the cover of that one.
By the time the ending credits rolled, Don and Fay had finished the bottle of expensive wine. She put her arms around him and made the sound of a kitty purring. “You’re the sweetest, coolest man, I swear. I’m straight-up going to attack you, right on this couch.”
Don flicked off the TV. “Feel free.”
Fay held him and whispered in his ear: “I don’t wanna go to the bedroom. I can’t wait that long.”
“Not a problem.” Though
he tried to act calm, sweat oozed out of his forehead. “Does that mean… you want to…?”
Fay’s luscious lips curled up into a devilish grin. “Maybe it’s the wine, the steak or the house.” She nodded emphatically. “Take me, you hunk of juicy goodness!”
It had been so long, so much pent-up sexual tension. Mercifully, he’d forgotten about the hideous nightmares that had accosted him two weeks ago. He kissed her, giving her tongue and getting plenty in return as she smeared him with her lipstick. Fay jumped onto his lap and rubbed his back. She pulled away and smiled as she pulled off her frilly shirt — no bra: pay dirt! — and she wasn’t one of those women who had bikini lines. Fay had a tan everywhere. Her not-too-big, not-too-small tits jiggled a bit, but hung firm. He pulled off his shirt. She gave a naughty giggle, then cried out, “Ow.” She stood and struggled to pry her tight jeans off. Don wondered if she’d need a can opener. She slid the blue panties down to reveal the best-looking shaved pussy he’d ever seen: pure pink lips, not brown and weather-beaten, and the same with her nipples. Don hurriedly stripped off his slacks and boxers, along with the socks after he kicked his shoes off.
There’s just something about a woman this hot. I’ve got to be completely naked.
Then she dove on top of him, forcing Don to lie down on the couch. He took her tender nipples into his hands and flicked the paps with his tongue, kneading them, then sucked on the breasts, the best things he’d ever tasted. The scent of perfume lingered on the twin peaks. She grabbed his already throbbing penis and rubbed the shaft. He nibbled her earlobes, careful to tickle the back of her neck with one hand and above her ass with the other, the erogenous zones well covered. Then she moved downward and gave him a good honking, careful to flick the helmet and lick around the shaft first. She mounted his face so he could return the favor. The stink of her sex was a bittersweet smell Don cherished. He started by licking and gently biting the lips, making sure he sucked and released, then dove for her clit as she went to town on him. She uttered muffled “Um’s,” driving him crazy.
As he was about to prejaculate, she pulled her mouth from his cock and moved her sex off his face. Then she mounted him — yes, she wanted to be on top — spreading the labia and feeding him inside her. She started off slowly, not moaning much. Don had always been a silent partner during sex. Not now, with a woman of this caliber. He already moaned away. Then she sped up and whirled her head around, her vivacious mane mimicking her head’s movements. Fay moaned and groaned. Don was already so hot he thought he’d scream with a stinging feeling in his crotch building up to a crescendo. When she moaned loudly, he couldn’t help but cry out: “Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo.”
Don couldn’t believe he was getting it this good from such a sultry-looking young thing with a sweet personality to boot. She lost it, even grunted and shrieked, calling out his name, and he hers. She guided him as to when to cum, saying, “Don’t cum yet” until it was time, and when she cried out, “Now. Cum now,” Don exploded a gusher into her, so turned on he could feel the heat that rushed through his jism as if it had been in a microwave. She collapsed on top of him. Her sweat intermingled with his, a rapturous river of love.
“I love you,” Fay admitted as she held him tight. “I know it’s too soon, and you can call me a fool, but I do.”
Don didn’t even have to think about whether he should say it back. That had been the best fuck he’d ever had, and she was a special lady. “I love you too.”
“I wanna get out of my stupid mom’s house, but I know I’m rushing things.”
Don didn’t know what to say to that. He’d made the mistake of hurrying into relationships before, and he was sure she had also, probably dated one of the ten little Indian boys standing outside of the biker bar. So he just held her and stroked her hair as he caressed her warm back.
Man, I’ve got the life.
They fell asleep in each other’s loving arms.
CHAPTER 10
When Don woke in the morning, Fay was gone. He frantically searched the house until he heard the shower running. He sat down in front of the TV and lit a cigarette. Cable wasn’t hooked up yet, so there wasn’t much to watch, but reminiscing over last night’s conquest was more than enough. He’d had her so hot she hadn’t been able to wait long enough to go to the bedroom!
“Don Rack, man of the hour.”
A huge yellow beak stretched out of the television and made a sound like someone straining to stick their shoes into rubber galoshes. It stopped its insane procession right in front of his face. Two monstrous eyes morphed out of the walls, on both sides of the beak. The pupils were red with black irises. Enormous feathers sprouted out of the side walls and pinned Don in place. He looked downward and realized he was still naked.
Fear choked him like a serial killer.
I’m losing my mind. I’ve found the woman of my dreams, and now I’m going completely crazy.
He trembled, and his heart pounded out a death-metal blastbeat. Sweat ran down his body in rivulets. All he could think of was Fay coming out of the shower and seeing the spectacle, or worse, not seeing it because he’d gone insane.
Then he remembered that this was the god who’d been helping him. His feathers were the same color as the ones in his dream.
Something hard and squishy crawled over his toes; Don flinched, then pulled his feet up with stealth because a scorpion had been crawling on him. Hair stood up on the back of his neck. The creatures filled every inch of the floor. A murder of black crows burst in from a vortex where the French doors’ knobs should’ve been and landed on the mantel of the fireplace, the television and the arms of the couch. The birds cawed.
The monstrosity’s eyes grew wide and pierced him.
Don was too terrified to speak. The sun shone through the windows and through the French doors with vehemence.
The beak opened, and the deity spoke with the sonic boom-like voice he’d heard in his nightmare.
“You.”
Don couldn’t help it, he trembled like a bitch, and piss leaked out of his penis and onto the scorpions. The creatures scrambled away from the liquid. Don broke out in a cold sweat akin to the kind of perspiration that accompanied night terrors. He shook his head in disbelief.
In the hotel, I thought I wanted him to show, but now I know I don’t! Please, whoever is God, make him go away!
The eyes on the wall fixed on him again after darting around as if to check out his pad.
“I am your Lord.”
A lizard’s tongue crept out of the beak and flicked its two-pronged tips against Don’s face, slicking it with saliva that was slimy as cooking oil. Don cried out and recoiled, his mind about to shut down while wondering why a bird would have a snake’s tongue.
The deity seemed to sense that his servant was at the edge of sanity, for the god’s eyes softened as the brows that met across the wall rose. The tongue slipped back into the beak.
“I am the God from your dream. I have given you all you ever wanted. I’ve slain your enemies, prospered you and given you a woman way out of your league. Now it is time to give back. You must worship me, invoking my help from now on when you need something, in sweet surrender. I’ve given you a few freebies, paleface. No more. To continue to woo this woman, succeed at your job and have your enemies die: You. Must. Pray.
“Speak unto me!”
Don almost fainted from fear. All he could do was move his lips, but nothing came out.
“Call on me in your mind, and I will give you the strength to speak. Do it or die like your enemies!”
Oh, my God, oh Jesus, here goes…
The deity’s eyeballs became cat’s eye slits and his brow furrowed. “Not Jesus!”
God, whatever your name is, please give me the strength to speak.
Don’s nerves calmed. He stopped trembling and sweating. His mind no longer reeled, and his lightheadedness faded away. He swiped at his face with his hand. Suddenly, it felt cool in the house. And just that quickly…
&n
bsp; … “What’s your name?” Don blurted. “If I’m to call on you, I need to know.”
The eyes seemed to burn holes in Don’s soul as they squinted. “You don’t need to know my name. Just call me ‘The Not,’ since you didn’t believe there was a God. Will you agree to serve me and live? I can make the scorpions fly and sting you, inside and out.”
What other choice did he have? “I-I-I… will.”
The eyes softened again. “Good. Very good. Let me know if you want the ecstasies I offered you in what you call your ‘nightmares.’ Goodbye for now, supplicant.”
The eyes melted into the wall, the beak receded into the TV and the feathers released him and likewise faded away. The scorpions disappeared. The crows flew into the void.
Don fainted.
***
Don came to when Fay shook him. He blinked his sand-filled eyes, flicked away the lip scum with his fingers and rubbed his eyeballs. He lay on the couch, stark naked. Fay stood with the bath towel around her curvy body, the tops of her succulent breasts sticking out of it in fat oval shapes. Don looked at the television and the wall, devoid of the creature. He’d just awakened from another nightmare. At least he hoped he had.
Fay put her hands on her hips. “Wow, Donny, talk about dead to the world. Why are you covered with sweat? And why did you let a cigarette burn your floor?”
Oh, my God. That was no dream! I was smoking when it arrived!
What could he tell her? All he could do was gawk at her beauty. The white towel did much for her sexy frame, contrasting the tan legs sticking out of the bottom of it. Fay crossed her arms. She expected an answer when she asked a question. Don knew how women were. He had to say something, make it all seem sane. But would her mind be able to handle this hideous reality? She was barely past being a minor.
“I, uh, had a bad dream.” Don sat up, wiped his face with his hand and winced when he saw the black burns on the floor. He gasped when he realized the god had taken his pool of piss away.
“You’re welcome,” The Not spoke into his mind. “I can’t let your girl see you like that.”
Fay leaned down and kissed him. Her lipstickless lips tasted even better. She sat and held him, bringing his face to her bosom. He wondered if he should shake his head from tit to tit and utter brrrrr, but would that be kosher? Don didn’t think it would. He didn’t feel like it after his encounter with The Not anyway.