Feisty Repartee

Storms on the Horizon

A reader and very nice lady, Lolly left a comment to the reminder Take Two Wide Open post and indicated she was willing to give it a shot.

I am so very glad she did. Now, I am wondering why she does not yet have a blog of her own.

Here is Lolly's Take Two:

Ashley slept, but there were storms on the horizon. Dreaming only nightmares, she eventually awoke with a headache worse than any she could ever remember. Mickey on the nightstand indicated 2 a.m. She looked across the bed. Empty. Again. She had given in to sleep around midnight, realizing that waiting up for Ben wouldn’t bring him home any sooner. His drinking was becoming a real problem. And she was getting real tired of it. She hated to think what it meant. Who can think anyway with such a throbbing headache! She needed aspirin, but everything was spinning. All she could do was ease back down to the pillow. Hopefully……

“Hey, Sweetie, bring me anudder shot!”

“Sorry Ben. Jake said to cut you off. Time to go home.”

“Oh. Will you come home wif me?”

“I’d love to honey, but I’ve already got other plans. Besides, don’t you have a wife?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah….gggggggggrrrrrrp! she’s beautiful. Too good for me.” Ben stood up, stumbling towards the door. Jake watched. If he made it out the door and headed in the right direction, he’d make it home. It wasn’t far.

As Amanda’s eyes popped open, Mickey’s short arm was on 2, his long arm on 4. Twenty after two! What the hell was she doing still in bed? She jumped up and began searching for something to wear. That girl has no good clothes, she thought. She frantically pulled on some jeans that would just have to do. Then realized the nylon pajama chemise was just the right touch. With the spaghetti straps and no bra, she ought to get some attention. She grabbed the highest heels she could find, put on more makeup, and clipped up her curly hair, leaving a few tendrils hanging free. Yep, she looked damned good. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long.

Three minutes later she sat down at a table just inside the all-night diner across the street, with a clear view of anyone entering. The waitress brought coffee and filled both upturned cups with the steaming brew. Amanda searched her purse, pulled out a business card and wrote her name and apartment number on the back. As if right on cue, she looked up to see a forty-something man entering the diner, about half-fit and decently dressed. She perked up and thought, “He should do just fine.” They made eye contact and Amanda smiled invitingly, “Hey handsome. I’ve got your coffee right here.” He looked a bit surprised, but recognizing fineness, didn’t hesitate accepting the chair just to her left.

“Well, well, have we met before?”

“No, but I think we should. My name’s Amanda.” With the card in her right hand, she reached across under the table as she stood up, brushing his crotch with the card and tucking it into the top of his slacks. His right hand met hers and took the card. As her pulse quickened, she managed to say, “I’m going to bed now. Come on over if you want …..” She whispered the rest in his ear, leaning down so her nylon-clad nipples pressed into his shoulder. Then she headed for the door. Speechless, he watched her backside wave goodbye. She threw one more smile over her bare shoulder as she headed to the apartment building across the street.

“Wow,” he thought. He hadn’t been hit on like that in quite awhile. He looked at the business card. “Benjamin A. Johnson. Auto, Home, & Life Insurance.” And on the back, “Amanda. #202.” Hmmm. Maybe he’d go check her out. She was awfully hot, and he actually had a pretty good feeling about her. As he stood up, the semi-hard bulge in his pants confirmed that feeling. He headed out the door, trying to think of reasons why he shouldn’t follow her home; but the feel of her tits was still on his shoulder and her whispered promises filled his ears. When he stepped off the curb behind a parked car he didn’t notice the one without lights heading straight for him.

Before he knew what hit him, he was history, smashed between the two vehicles. Ben Johnson, across the street in a drunken stupor, was finally arriving home. He heard the crash and looked up to see the worst of it piling up at the front door of the diner. He noticed a card come flying over and land at his feet. He pick it up and stuffed it in his pocket as he headed for the diner. Somebody was hollering to call 911. A few others were trying to check on the man inside the car. Ben couldn’t think straight so he went inside to get coffee. He sat down and watched the ministrations happening outside. Another fucking statistic for the books. He wondered if they had insurance. He wondered if they had family that would be devastated. Probably. What were they doing out in the middle of the night anyway? What was he doing out in the middle of the night? He got up to go home. Home to his beautiful, waiting wife. . .

Up in #202, Ashley Amanda Kramer Johnson had left the door unlocked, one lamp on. She had taken a couple of aspirin, kicked off her high heels, pulled off her jeans and gone back to bed, hoping the man would arrive soon. Hoping he would also be inclined to kiss her and maybe act like she was special. She closed her eyes, thinking of what she wanted him to do to her and slowly drifted off to sleep, unaware of the flashing lights down below at the diner.

Ben came through the front door, slightly irritated that Ashley had forgotten to lock it. He went straight to the bed, stripped off his clothes, and snuggled up to his beautiful sleeping wife. They slept, but there were storms on the horizon.

TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://blog2.mu.nu/cgi/trackback.cgi/96310

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Storms on the Horizon: