Drifter's Blues (Erotic Noir) (3 page)

What was more, the sex was terrific. They’d spend entire weekends in bed, pausing in their frantic sweaty marathons only to eat and, briefly, sleep, before starting all over again. Blair seemed to derive fuel from his successes at work, and their fucking would always be at its best and most intense after he’d closed a deal with a new and important client. Even Donna, who regarded herself as having a pretty high sex drive, would be at the point of exhaustion, slumped on top of Blair, aching and sated, when he’d roll her over on her back and mount her and slide into her again, his cock rock-hard once more.

Well, hadn’t all
that
changed.

The last time they’d had sex must have been eighteen months ago, and only then when Blair was drunk and moody after losing one of his contracts. She’d tried to console him – that was back in the day when she still bothered to do something like that – and he’d grabbed her without warning and taken her from behind on the living room floor. Not anally – she wouldn’t allow that – but hard and angrily. A grudge fuck. Donna already knew by then that he’d had affairs, but it was after that that his screwing around really began in earnest. They moved into separate bedrooms soon after, supposedly because he was coming home from the office at all hours of the night and waking her, but really because they couldn’t stand to share a bed any longer.

Now Donna lay on top of the bed in her room, staring up at the ceiling. Despite the aircon it was too hot to get under the covers, and she wore only panties, no pajamas or nightdress. She really needed to start wearing a bra in bed, she thought. Her boobs were still pretty damn firm, if she said so herself, but she was only a few years off the time when they’d start to show a little sag, and there was no need to give gravity a helping hand.

She knew where her thoughts were bound to wander, and she didn’t try to stop them; but on the way Donna allowed herself to think of Blair. Blair, once the love of her life, now slightly running to fat. Blair, naked in bed with Madison, on top of the girl’s widespread body and rutting away, pumping his come into her by the gallon.

God damn you, you bastard
, Donna thought, squeezing her eyes tight shut and biting her bottom lip.
God damn you to hell.

  She let the montage of images play themselves out before, of its own accord, her imagination drifted on.

In her mind’s eye she saw Kyle as he’d been that afternoon, when she’d returned home from shopping and lunching with friends. She’d watched him through the huge bay window in the living room which gave a spectacular view down over the lawns to the pool. Kyle was finishing up, clearing the equipment away. He was wearing those cargo shorts he favored and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Even at this distance Donna could appreciate his physique. His triceps bunched as he hauled and twisted, and the muscles of his back and shoulders expanded as he straightened.

For a few seconds he stood, arching his back, turning his face to the sun, luxuriating after a morning’s hard work. Donna stared at the front of his shorts. It was difficult to tell for sure at this distance, but did he have an erection? Either that, or the bulge in the material meant he was seriously hung.

It might have been her imagination, but it seemed that at the very instant she had that thought, Kyle stared up at the window. His eyes, a piercing blue, were visible beneath the curtain of his blond hair, and he seemed to be staring straight at her. Could he see her in the window, with the glare of the sun off the glass? In any case, did it matter?

Lying on the bed, Donna let her mind play the scene out differently. This time, Kyle made his way up to the house, and she moved across to the French windows and let him in.

Donna’s hand slipped down across her belly.

He took her in his arms, his mouth descending on hers.

Her palm cupped the mound beneath her panties, her fingertips feeling her wetness through the material.

He wrestled off her clothes as she tore at his.

Donna lifted her hand to the waistband of her panties and pushed the sopping silk down her thighs.

The rug was rough against her bare ass as she opened herself to him, his cock rearing over her.

Quickly Donna slid her middle finger down between the swollen folds of her labia, feeling them open in response. The nub of her clitoris rose to meet the pad of her finger.

Kyle slid in, sinking the full length of his shaft deep into her.

She began to rub her clit, fast and hard, all attempts to draw out the pleasure abandoned. Her thighs shifted and her buttocks writhed. She became aware of nothing but the bristle of her pubic hair against her palm and the exquisite sensation coursing through her from her vulva.

The orgasm built rapidly and when it arrived, it shook her to the core, causing her to shudder and cry out as, in her fantasy, Kyle climaxed, his come spurting hard and hot deep within her. Slowly, teasingly, the pleasure ebbed, an aftershock surprising her every few seconds and making her hips buck a little.

Flushed, sheened with sweat, Donna kicked off the wet panties and rolled on to her side, catching her breath. She lay staring at nothing, helpless in the grip of the little death which had claimed her.

Monday
, she thought.
No later than that. And down by the pool, not in the house.
It seemed somehow fitting.

Monday would give her time to dismiss the cook and the maid for the day with a plausible excuse, and make sure the gardener didn’t turn up. Time to ensure that the only two people at
chez
Thurgood on Monday would be Donna and Kyle.

She had four days to wait. It would be difficult, but she could just about do it.

*

Nothing Kyle tried seemed to work.

It was Friday night and he was dog-tired. He’d spent the morning cleaning out a spectacularly filthy pool in a newly purchased property, the kind of place real estate agents were apt to advertise as a “renovator’s dream”. While there, the new buyer had asked if he’d be interested in making a little extra cash. Kyle agreed, and spent the next six hours helping tear up the dilapidated patio and hauling rocks and decking to the local garbage dump. By evening he was sore, exhausted, but a couple hundred dollars richer.

Normally on a Friday he’d hit a bar or two after work, maybe find someplace with a live band. Not tonight. He’d be on the floor after one beer, assuming he could find the energy to cruise around MidTown looking for a halfway decent place. Instead, Kyle took his battered Ford pickup straight back to the motel he was staying at, in East Columbus.

The motel was a dive, set back from the road next to an industrial park. It inhabited the same city as the Thurgoods’ home in Green Island Hills but might as well have been on a different planet. Kyle was woken regularly by the sounds of fist- and even bottle-fights on the street outside, and on the first night there he’d seen and heard so many sirens he wondered if police HQ was stationed round the corner. But it was cheap, the aircon worked more than half the time, and he didn’t spend much time there anyhow.

Kyle had gotten himself a takeout burger and fries, a slice of blueberry pie, and a sixpack of Coors, and he intended to have a quiet and modest party for one in his motel room to celebrate the end of another productive week’s work before bunking down for eight or ten hours.

That was when the problems started.

With nothing to distract his thoughts, Kyle found that they returned to his time at the Thurgoods’ house. He’d been there only three times, including the first visit when Donna had interviewed him, but the events and the people weighed heavily in his mind.

The girl, Madison, had obviously made an impression. She’d have been distracting enough fully clothed, but by taking her bikini top off like that she’d burned her image onto his memory like a branding iron. Why’d she done it? Did she want to fuck him, or was she just being a tease? And why had she mentioned her thing with Mr Thurgood? Had he offended her by not responding to her more obviously, so she was getting her own back by pointing out that she was shtupping his boss and therefore had one up on him?

Madison was a hot, sexy girl, there was no doubt about it, and in other circumstances Kyle could easily see himself getting it on with her. But she wasn’t the one at the forefront of his thoughts.

He didn’t quite know what it was about Donna that captivated him so. He thought he kind of
half
-knew. She was a stunner, a woman who combined classy beauty and an earthy, down-and-dirty sexiness in a way he hadn’t come across before. She was the perfect age: in her early thirties, old enough to be self-aware and assured, yet still young, still physically utterly hot. Her body was dynamite. Those legs, those curvy hips, the poised way she carried those beautiful breasts…

‘Jesus,’ muttered Kyle. He took another swig of Coors. Instead of cooling his ardor the beer stoked it, sending heat flooding through his groin.

How was he going to last the summer cleaning the Thurgoods’ pool? Twice a week every week for another couple months, catching glimpses of Donna in a dress, Donna in a halter and shorts, Donna in, God forbid, a swimsuit or bikini. Even the more formal lunch outfit he’d seen her in as she’d been leaving her home on Thursday had got him excited. He’d found himself wondering what color panties she was wearing. And that had led him to other wonderings. What did her nipples look like, did she have tan lines where the sun hadn’t touched her breasts and most private areas. What did she like in bed, which position was her favorite…

Kyle opened the window, even though the aircon was working tonight, in the hope that some raucous fight would break out in the street to divert his attention. Nothing. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, looking for a big dumb movie, some kind of action blockbuster he could lose himself in. He found one that looked promising, until the heroine made her appearance and he thought she looked a little bit like Donna. More than a little, in fact.

Kyle flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling with its dangling strip of blackly coated flytape. His cock was taking a break from full erectness, readying itself to swell again like a prize fighter between rounds, weary but determined. His balls throbbed in time with his pulse, and Kyle thought that if he pulled down his pants and had a look he’d find they’d turned a bright blue.

Maybe he should go and find a bar, after all. Meet some girl and bring her back. Not a hooker, just a girl out for a good time. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Kyle had nothing against one-night stands. He’d had more than a few himself. But each time the meeting with the girl had come first, the flirting and the banter, and only later had they ended up in bed. Sex had been a natural progression of the mutual fun they were having. But to go out and find a woman, any woman, just because your balls were bursting and you needed to use someone to release the tension – that seemed wrong to Kyle, somehow.

No, it would have to be a DIY job.

Kyle rose to his knees on the bed and unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans and shorts down simultaneously and kicking them off. His penis sprang up, pulsing. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the remote and flipped again until he found a porno channel.

On the screen, a hot, busty, naked blonde was on her hands and knees on a bed while a musclebound guy with a cock the size of a policeman’s nightstick penetrated her from behind. From the slow way the man was thrusting, Kyle guessed the fuck had only just started. He grasped his own penis in his hand and began to stroke the length of the shaft, up and down, in time to the rhythm on the screen.

As the tempo picked up Kyle focussed on the particulars of the blonde: her half-closed eyes and wide mouth from which faked gasps of ecstasy were issuing; her silicone tits; her ass and thighs. His fist glided faster and faster over his cock. It was working: in his imagination he was fucking the woman on the screen, doggy style just like the guy in the movie. He felt his orgasm building, and reached the point of no return, knowing he was going to come in a few seconds no matter what he did.

At the moment his climax hit and the first rope of semen spurted from the eye of his penis, Kyle saw the camera close in on the woman’s face so that it filled the screen. She was smiling, looking straight out at him, and suddenly it was Donna’s eyes, Donna’s mouth, Donna’s body he was looking at and taking his pleasure in.

Ah, shit. No. There’s no escape.

Afterwards Kyle cleaned up with a towel, took a shower and fell on to the bed. Sleep came sooner than he was expecting.

His last thought was:
I’ll give it till Monday. Then I’ll give my notice. This isn’t going to work.

Three

Kyle’s first sight of Blair Thurgood was through the front door of the mansion as he, Kyle, was pulling up in his pickup. It was Monday morning, eight thirty - Kyle had asked Donna if it was okay if he started a little earlier to beat the heat, and she’d agreed - and he’d driven to Green Island Hills from his motel psyching himself up for the encounter he was going to have to have with her.

In his mind he rehearsed it.
I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to take a pass on future employment with you.
That was the easy part. The hard part would come next, when she asked why. What could he say?
I find you too sexy to work for
? Or maybe,
I get a raging boner when I’m around you and I’d rather be enjoying your naked body in bed than cleaning your pool
? Far easier would be to say he was leaving town. But that meant he really would have to leave town, otherwise word would get out to Donna that he was still cleaning the pools of other people in North Columbus, and she’d be understandably pissed.