Falling in Love Read online

  “I couldn’t help but notice a fridge out back.”

  Skip just gulped and nodded.

  His eyes moved back and forth and he figured it out.

  Skip’s knees were pretty wooden and the knees kind of wobbly but as he recalled there were three or four beers in there, down low on the bottom rack of the door.

  ***

  “Mallory. Mallory. Are you sure you really want to do this?”

  Skip sat in the corner, painfully aware of traffic noises, in the busy, four-lane plus a centre turning lane kind of a street outside his business establishment.

  The lights were harsher now, with no warm and diffused light from the sun, and Mallory took a long gulp, gasped, and belched softly. The lights hummed. He’d always known it, of course, but now it took on significance.

  She took a quick look at the bottle and exhaled, in and out a couple of times. Then she tipped it up and chugged it until there was nothing left but foam and air.

  She lowered the empty bottle and came up for breath.

  “Ah!” It was exactly the way Skip would have done.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He would have done that too.

  She leaned over and put the bottle on the end of the counter, and poor Skip’s eyes followed it.

  But it was all plastic laminates, it would wipe off. While he was getting the beer, she had found her station on the radio, some light dance-pop thing, and then she started gyrating in front of him. Her eyes bored into his and there was this initial cynical reaction. Skip had sat in a few strip bars over the years, over a few beers and plenty of bullshit conversations. But this girl was a total amateur—he saw that at once.

  It was vulnerability, of all things. Skip sat up, face serious, and just watched her eyes. She never looked away, and it was all he could do not to fucking cry for some reason.

  Skip blinked it away as best he could, and then he steeled himself.

  She didn’t have to do this.

  You don’t have to do this.

  She really didn’t have to do this.

  She turned her back, bent over at the waist, and still swaying her hips a little, she peeked at him, holding on to her ankles.

  So she had seen it done somewhere. It’s not that he thought she was a virgin or anything, but.

  But.

  Skip took a quick gulp of his beer. She straightened up, turned around, and then her hands went to the left side. She struggled a bit, biting her lip in frustration but then the skirt dropped away.

  Skip’s heart surged and he sat up a little straighter. The trouble was that he still had a conscience.

  But this couldn’t be real anyway.

  She flung the skirt with a quick kick, and it came up and he grabbed it before it went over his shoulder. It was still warm in his hand. He sat holding it in disbelief for a moment, then laid it on the coffee table.

  She came closer now, undoing the buttons of her blouse, starting at the bottom and working her way up.

  “Wait!” She was shaking her head no, but Skip got up and headed for the back of the building to hit a few switches and dim the light in here.

  He nipped right back.

  She hadn’t gone anywhere.

  “That’s better.”

  She nodded silently, and slowly swiveled in front of him in time to the music.

  She wriggled, slowly and sensually, as best she could, and then she shrugged out of the blouse and tossed that aside as well.

  “I have condoms in my purse. I’ve never needed them before now.” She mashed her breasts inside the white bra, a small line of lace around the upper edges.

  Skip was breathing pretty hard by now, clutching the bottle by the neck. The sounds outside were still there.

  “Oh, no…no.”

  A look of startled humour crossed her face.

  She mocked him.

  “Oh, no! Not that!”

  And he had to give a wry little grin.

  Sure, lady.

  Whatever you say.

  Skip found himself sitting up, and yet slouching down almost immediately afterwards…it was like he kept climbing up the back of the couch or something, and at the same time afraid of being seen. Skip crossed and uncrossed his legs once or twice, that was for sure.

  Mallory was magnificent, and Skid licked his lips.

  He couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared at him over her left shoulder. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she rotated to the left and then she was facing him again.

  Her eyes wouldn’t let him go.

  It was like Skip was frightened or something.

  She put her hands in the top of her silky yet sensibly-cut white briefs and opened her mouth and rolled her tongue around her lips. Spinning, she stood looking over her shoulder again. Then she gave a little snap and a shove. The panties slowly made their way down, as she moved her knees back and forth to assist.

  She lifted one foot and then the other and stepped out of them. She turned and faced Skip.

  “Mallory…Mallory…”

  “Yes, Skip?”

  “You really don’t have to do this. We could make some other arrangement.”

  “I know.”

  “You do know that. You do, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Ah, Skip. But you’re forgetting one thing.”

  Eyebrows raised, he asked the inevitable question as her hands went up and behind her, for surely the bra was next.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I want to, Skip. It’s just that I want to. The fact that I really can’t pay the bill is just a bonus.”

  That was pretty compelling.

  There wasn’t a whole lot you could say to that, was there?

  “You’re very beautiful, Mallory.”

  “Thank you, Skip.”

  Scene Three

  She had stripped completely naked, taking her sweet time about it. She had finally coaxed Skip out of everything but his pants. She had waved a condom in a packet in front of his eyes and set him to getting some more beers. Skip had found a couple of old plastic tarps in the back room. In behind the front counter, the counter where he worked every day, they had laid out a place.

  Suddenly they were wrestling. She had gone for his pants and he was still shy, still wondering if all of this was real.

  It was like he knew he shouldn’t do it, but couldn’t think of a reason—there had to be some kind of a reason. There were too many of them—there were a million reasons.

  Right?

  It was too good to be true. It had to be a trap or something.

  “Ah!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  She had gashed his forearm with a fingernail in their struggle for his modesty.

  “I’m so sorry, Skip. It’s just the excitement…”

  She bent to lick at the blood and he just let her. She held his forearm with both lovely hands and licked the blood for him.

  “Mallory…”

  “No. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.”

  He let her pull off his pants. Her eyes were like big black marbles, her pupils were dilated to the widest extent and he didn’t think it was drugs either. His penis wasn’t all that hard, although it was halfway. She put his pants aside and pulled off his underwear.

  “Oh, my. God. Oh, my God.” Skip was babbling, but she was just so lovely.

  Her breasts were small but perfectly formed and yet she was just out of reach.

  “Oh!”

  Skip gasped and half-sobbed. Dave would never believe this. Better yet, Dave must never be told about this! It was an insane thought, but Skip enjoyed the insanity of the moment. It was just too personal…for both of them, he recognized.

  It was really important to her…for some reason.

  She came up again, an intent look on her face as she sought his eyes. She grabbed his wrists, and with surprising strength, forced his arms up and back. She clambered up, poised to drop down and impale her body on him.

&
nbsp; He was gasping and fighting for air. Her breasts were right there. Her face was inches away and he stared up in a kind of torment.

  “Mallory.”

  “I know, I know.” She lowered her face and inserted her tongue into her mouth, gently moving her hips back and forth as lowered her body blindly down.

  She found the tip of his penis with her labia. Their mouths unlocked. Mallory gazed deep into Skip’s eyes.

  “I know.”

  Propping herself up, she released his hands to do their glorious work and slid down the shaft with a wracking shudder of bliss. Her hands were on his shoulders and her mouth was working and her eyes blinking on and off. Strange sounds came out of her.

  It’s not that she hadn’t noticed before, but Skip was pretty big down there. She’d enjoyed fellating him of course, but she really hadn’t thought it through, up until now…the exhibitionism of it, the dancing, the demand for sex, all of it combined.

  There was no time to think.

  That was a good thing.

  Her first orgasm shivered through her and she began to peep and shriek and gasp. She pounded on his shoulders, but gently, falling flat on his chest and completely losing control.

  Now he grabbed her wrists, and now he kissed her, and with the strength of that hairy bronze body, somehow he lifted both he and Mallory, arms around her. He rotated around and lowered her gently onto her back, still locked together.

  She lay flat, squeezing his buttocks and moaning and panting softly.

  His cock was still hard within her and she called his name.

  “Oh, Skip, Skip. Fuck me, Skip. Please…”

  Her mouth was open, warm and red.

  He kneaded her breasts, watching her react, and thrash, and moan, as he made a few very slow, deep thrusts.

  “Ah, ah…ah…” She kept going.

  “Mallory.” He thrust deep into her. “Mallory.”

  He thrust again, and again.

  “Ah. Ah. Ah.”

  “Mallory.”

  He stopped for a moment, kissing her again and again, nibbling under her chin. He took her nose into his mouth and bit it gently, giving the tip of it a lick in passing.

  She gasped and chuckled and smiled up at him, now stroking his hair with both hands.

  There were tears in her eyes.

  There was a long moment of unspoken communication.

  Skip waited.

  “Mallory.”

  “Yes, Skip?”

  Skip slowly withdrew his cock, watching her bite her lip. Fresh tears welled up and her body was torn by some deep, wracking sob.

  “I love you, Mallory.”

  Skip thrust deep into Mallory.

  “Say it.”

  He pulled out and did it again.

  “Ah. Ah. Ah.” She writhed and moaned, staring wildly up at him.

  She wanted a kiss, but he stayed just out of reach.

  “Say it.”

  “Ah. Ah. Ah.”

  “No. The other thing.”

  “Ah. I—ah.”

  “What?”

  “I—I—I love you Skip.” She smiled when she said it, crying and biting her lip after.

  She looked shocked. They both looked shocked.

  “I really do.”

  He smiled.

  They rubbed noses, and giggled a bit.

  “That’s better.”

  Skip wasn’t lying, either. He loved her insanely, and somehow he knew he would love her, and would never stop loving her until the end of time—or until death did them part, whichever came first was fine with him.

  It was a moment of truth, for good old Skip.

  They just lay there for a moment, eye to eye and saying nothing. They needed nothing else, just each other.

  It happens that fast sometimes.

  Selena’s Escape

  Scene One

  The big barbarian had a strange look on his face.

  “There’s something wrong with this drink.” Standing at six-foot-five and weighing in well over two-fifty, deltoids and biceps bulging, he eyed the Torellian bartender suspiciously.

  He poured the glistening red fluid onto the top of the bar and then, losing his temper, threw the glass at the rear mirror, where the glass shivered into tiny fragments. The mirror shook and vibrated but remained intact, one thin crack going through it on an oblique angle.

  The room went quiet as the fellow glowered. Bouncers, sensing a problem about to get out of control, moved quickly in on either side on a nod from Chauncey Mifflin, seated at his customary booth right by the kitchen door where he could hold sway with his selected cronies and watch the action.

  The big man, sweaty highlights gleaming off his face, turned and faced the barroom.

  “There’s something wrong with my drink.” His head came down and he was fully aware of the men on either side of him.

  Even as Johnny Salon’s leg lifted in a kick to the chin, something he had practiced over and over again as a young lad, Olaf as he was called, dropped to a knee and pounded an elbow into Johnny’s crotch in the area of the rectum.

  Johnny’s subsequent gasp and collapse were ancient news as the man Olaf stood up, and spinning on his left foot, the right leg came straight around and on the level, and Billy Bawb’s knee crackled with a sickening crunch as he screamed and went down even as he raised his truncheon.

  Chauncey sat with an arm around one of his expensive babes, glass raised and thin cheroot sending thin curlicues of smoke up and around his patrician head, elegant and cool in the dark paneling and obscure light of Chauncey’s Bar and Grille.

  It was late on a Friday night and three more of his staff rushed Olaf all at once from different sides as the bartender groped under the bar for a cosh, unable seemingly to tear his eyes from the fight but determined to get a swipe in if he could and defend his turf.

  “Ooh!” It was a great show as long as you weren’t involved, thought Chauncey.

  “Ah.” The gasps were torn from a hundred throats and women cried out for them to stop it.

  “Oh.!” The man was a wonder.

  Olaf banged a pair of heads together, as the evening crowd, heavier than usual, stared in suspense and winced with every blow he struck. Gagnier came at him with a baseball bat, whirling it like a baton queen, and spinning it with one hand over his head in calm demonstration of what he planned to do. Ned and Barney came at the double out of the kitchen area.

  Olaf bolted, knowing he couldn’t win against such numbers, with Gagnier narrowly missing a temple as Olaf side-stepped, and then on seeing a solid phalanx of bodies between him and the door, he bolted for the stairs and the upper levels where the pleasure girls plied their trade.

  “He obviously knows his way around.” Chauncey yelled over the crowd to the bartender. “You should have given him a bigger dose!”

  Chauncey winked and his party laughed outrageously.

  In three massive steps Olaf was up the stairs and the whole crew boiled up after him, shouting profanity and making obscene promises.

  ***

  Her door slammed open and Olaf was there.

  He turned and tried to snap the rickety old lock, and the knob broke off in his hand in his fury. Olaf needed to get to her window, which backed right onto the alley and there was only one way out. He braced against the door.

  Fists pounded on the wood and against all of his strength, the solid maple slab began to push inwards.

  Serena hit Olaf in the back of the head as hard as she could with a flat-iron she’d been warming on the radiator prior to smoothing out some wrinkles in her kimono.

  Olaf slumped to the floor, the drugs and the short sharp blow to the head finally more than that remarkable body and those insane reflexes had ever been built to handle.

  “I’m sorry.” A tear dropped from her eye as the door was pushed open against the weight of Olaf lying in the way.

  The boys moved back and Chauncey sauntered in, casually stepping over Olaf’s outstretched arm.

  “Ni
ce.” He nodded at the boys. “Take him.”

  He looked at the slender blonde girl, taking in the situation.

  “Thank you.”

  She still held the flat-iron, limp at her side.

  “Gold.”

  He snorted cynically, and grinned in appreciation.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out three gold crowns. He held her eye for a moment, and then opened his hand and let them fall to the floor. They clanked and rattled and spun off in curving trails, each seeking its own fate. Her face flushed but she made no move to chase them.

  He smiled at that. Chauncey stood and watched her for a while.

  The body of Olaf, breathing quietly and looking strangely peaceful in the sleep of the drunken man, was dragged out of the room. There was something about her.

  “Why did he come in here?”

  Her face was impassive.

  “He likes me.” Olaf had been coming around for a few nights now, some big raid up in the north country had gone well and he was flush with cash, at least for a few days as the pay of a warrior wasn’t that much.

  A fool and his money were soon parted. Chauncey knew an opportunity when he saw one.

  “Ah.”

  With a nod, and with his mouth twisted up in a curious feeling of jealous impotence, Chauncey turned to go.

  He stuck his head back in the door.

  “You and me—what do you say we go out some night?”

  “Sure.”

  “What? That’s it?” There was a sharp tang of something that burst into flame in his guts. “Where would you like to go? Money is no object, I’ll take you anywhere in town. Some place nice.”

  “Whatever you want is fine with me.” He owned her, but then he owned everyone and everything around here. “Thank you, Mister Chauncey.”

  With his most charming smile, he nodded politely and tugged at his forelock. That defiance was what made her. Again, he just stared at her. He could not think of a single thing to say and finally shrugged. He bowed out at last with a final word and an inclination of the head.

  “Adieu, my fair lady.”