Chapter 3: Guest Who ~~ Part Three
I had expected The Hilton, or even the Ramada...
I hadn't wanted to attract any attention and concluded I shouldn't drive my own car. I went to the UBER App. 3 minutes, would that be too long? I couldn't let them get too far ahead, I needed to know. As I waited for the Hyundai I stood unnoticeable, the wind pricking at my face around the wool scarf, the sounds of my heart fluctuating to my own ears, mimicking my weak pulse, I was alive but lamented. My expedition futile but essential. The tone of "his" truth resonated through my conception finally allowing its apprehension. Veracity, unadorned. As I signaled the dreaded driver and prepared to get in my phone rang, he had called again. But why, what was understood hadn't needed to be explained, Bingo was the final answer already. Straightforward and frank I handed the driver the one hundred dollar bill and instructed him to follow the Maserati, it headed toward the expressway. As he drove away I glanced back at the patrons entering the restaurant, smiles decorated their faces. With envy I abhorred their existence. I needed to hate, I needed the world to feel my anger! Ten years, ten long years...years of shame, the lies, the whispers. The intimidation, the questions... 'What had he seen in her' or 'She's just a country bumpkin!' Ten years of doubt, and deceit! FOLLOW THAT CAR! The verbal abuse, the disappointed dates, something always surfaced resulting in a change of plans.
There are no hotels out this way...
And her... the connection of our gazes spoke in high volume, the enigma of my presence subjugated her discernment, she pondered openly and abrupt. Had she been uncomfortable by my presence alone, or by the way I refused to deter my stare. As she discreetly studied me I watched her strong face disfigure from discomfit, I yet stared observing her clumsiness as she lost all etiquette...ghetto as predicted. I stared indiscreetly. She contemplated. Yet why was she fraught? Had her inability to overawe me outraged her? How had she known me...had she recognized me from social media? What was her name? My need to feel equal to Lamont's class had resulted in discreet self improvement, I could never allow him to defeat me, the anger inside would not allow it.
The circle driveway led to a large home with a Roman theme, who was she? Why had he pulled inside of the garage?
Kill the lights I said to the driver.
I instructed him to leave before treading uphill...
I wondered. Were there more?
As the garage lowered the house lit, he had entered in the front door after unlocking it and held it open for the knobby kneed bitch to enter behind. He closed it without observing. He hadn't seemed like a guest, and had he had his own key? Disarming alarm, he even knows the code. I watched as he took off his coat, and snatched off his tie...he had even taken his briefcase inside. This hadn't seemed like the normal fling, was he making himself...at home? Where was the bastard child?
He sat in front of the television, now in his undershirt. No continuance of the romance I had just observed? Where was she? The thrill of being unfaithful...why had it subsided?
I needed to get inside, I needed to know.
He began to undress in the living room...she was naked, oh, a shower invite. It was now 8:26 p.m. Bingo would end at 11.
Had she been angry to see me?
The front door...I often fussed, he never locked it. Could it be...?
The television blared, CNN...
He watched it religiously.
I pressed the thumbpiece on the lever and pulled. I had to know her name.
The house was huge, I could tell he had hired the same decorator. I could hear the sounds of the water through the door intensifying her moans. Her seductive cries traveled down the hall and into the foyer where I stood looking at the tall venetian ceilings. The alarm chimed as I entered, I stood still in case they had heard the announced entry. They hadn't, she moaned louder...
His clothes lay in the middle of the floor in front of the recliner, his phone peeked from his front pocket. Did I know the code? The daughter...the pictures. Did she look like him?
The steam clouded the bathroom mirror and glass shower door, I could see her fingers as she tried to grip the wet shower walls, he pounded uncontrollably, his distorted face evil, the muscles in his back contracting as would a running leopard. He pulled her hair...she begged for more. He held her around her waist begging for her release, the atmosphere erotic, my mixed emotions all settled into one big lump in my throat. Simple minded bastard, not your birthday u idiot, who uses their own birthday....ringer silenced.
Her voice became louder as she was nearing her anticipated orgasm, I needed the bitch to picture me, picture my unpredictable gaze. I needed her to relive those aghast moments at the restaurant. The falling towel had not disturbed her seductive mindstate. Pull out, she begged...I want to swallow it. No, he said...I want u to have my son.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone