Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (63 page)

“What the hell are you doing?"

“Good morning, Master. What does it look and feel like I'm doing?” Deborah smiled as she continued slowly grinding her pubis against him.

“No, damn it. Get off me."

“Relax. Enjoy.” She leaned forward and spanked his face with her nipples. “Just, enjoy.” She pulled her body erect and fondled her breasts.

“Get off me,” he said faintly.

She began to lift and lower her body slowly—very slowly. She moaned and tugged at her nipples.

He could not force his eyes away from the sight of his penis slowly disappearing inside her vagina—then just as slowly reappearing.

Suddenly she thrust her pubic bone against his and savagely rubbed her clitoris against his trapped body. She screamed and collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath.

He could not help himself. He was on fire. He thrust his hips upwards just as she rolled away.

“No! Damn it! No!"

She laughed. “Yes, damn it, yes. You don't want to have sex with me. Remember?"

He stared at his wildly jerking penis. “Don't leave me like this. Please, Debbie. For God's sake, finish me—at least with your hand."

She stood beside the bed and dressed seductively. She pulled the key from her pocket and opened the handcuffs. “Jerk off, if you must. Then dress and join me in the kitchen."

When he entered the kitchen, she was frying the last of four eggs. “Make yourself useful,” she said. “Butter the toast."

There were two settings at the kitchen table with large glasses of orange juice and steaming mugs of freshly brewed coffee. He pulled a golden slice of bread from the toaster and dipped the knife into the butter. “What are you doing here? You're off the hook."

She flipped the eggs in the frying pan. “I came for several reasons. One is to show you what you are missing. I may be an old woman to you, but I haven't forgotten how to make a man happy."

“Or miserable,” he muttered. “I ought to beat the shit out of you and rape you right here on the kitchen floor."

“Promises, promises.” She slipped the spatula under the eggs and transferred them to a plate. “I have a story to tell and, when you've heard it, I'll get out of your life forever, if that is what you still want."

They sat at the table. “You put too much salt on your food,” she observed.

“Just tell your damn story."

“I was lying every time I told you I didn't remember you,” she began. “The truth is, I remember you well."

He spread strawberry jam on his toast.

“All the years I was posing for porno photos and acting in films—yes,
Daisy Does Dixie
was just one of ten—I learned body motions and sounds that turn men on, but I was never aroused. The first time I became sexually excited by a man was after I started teaching at Charlotte High and watched you play in the first football game of your junior year."

“Watching me play football aroused you?"

She nodded as she sipped her orange juice. “I masturbated three times that night, visualizing you between my legs. I started going to all your practice sessions and, of course, I never missed a game."

“You carried a torch for me when I was a junior?"

She nodded. “Big time."

“Why didn't you let me know?"

“Relationships between students and teachers at the high school level are frowned upon,” she laughed. “I worked too hard to become a teacher to let my lust ruin it."

He grinned. “You lusted for me? Damn!"

“Do you remember the state championship game that year?"

He frowned. “I remember part of it, and waking up in the hospital the next day and being told we lost the game."

She nodded. “You were badly injured. I followed the ambulance to the hospital and was present when the doctors told your parents of the severe trauma to the brain you received. They warned your parents that another severe blow to your head could turn you into a vegetable for the rest of your life—or even kill you."

“I know,” he said, “but they got a second opinion. That's why they signed the waiver to let me play my senior year."

“Yes, they did, but the second opinion came from a quack. Buzz, I loved you more than your parents did. I couldn't let you play."

“That's why you flunked me in senior English?"

“That was the only way. Buzz, I tried to convince your coach. He wouldn't listen to me."

“If you had leveled with me, all these years of hating you might have been avoided."

“I tried."

He looked at her. “What do you mean, you tried?"

“During the summer, between your junior and senior years, my lust won the battle with my brain. I wrote you a long, passionate letter. I even enclosed a semi-nude photo. I begged you to meet me under the bleachers on the practice field. You didn't show up."

“Oh, my God. I remember the letter. Hell, I masturbated the whole summer while looking at that photo. Debbie, Petey Spenser was always playing practical jokes on people. I thought he wrote the letter. The face in the photo didn't really look like you. I had no idea that the best looking teacher in school wanted to jump my bones."

He picked up the two empty plates and took them to the kitchen sink. “What now?” he asked as he turned to face her.

She was standing at the kitchen door. “That's up to you,” she said. “I'll leave you alone. You need time to think about it."

“I suppose you want romance, love and marriage?"

“I'll take what I can get,” she said unashamedly. “Being your slave turns me on. I want to continue, but this time I want the punishment to involve sex between you and me—not some high school punks."

He watched her leave, heard the front door close and went to his bedroom. He reached under the mattress and pulled out the one photocopy he saved. She's a hell of a lot prettier now than she was then, he thought.

“It's seven a.m., you two-timing jerk,” June hissed into the telephone.

“I may be a jerk,” Jay said, “but not a two-timing jerk. My body wants yours and yours apparently wants mine, but our relationship, at least to this point, has been neither romantic nor sexual. Surely, you know I have a life. I will not apologize for having a guest in my home last night."

She said nothing.

“June, are you there?"

“I'm here."

“I'm delighted you have decided to go to the meeting with me. It will be good for you, I promise. I plan to leave about three this afternoon. I'll look for you a little before."

“If I'm not there by three, go on without me."

“June, don't be like that. You have no cause to be pissed with me."

“I made a fool of myself last night."

He chuckled. “And you made a very happy woman out of my guest. You charged my battery."

“I've changed my mind about having sex with you."

“I'm disappointed, but when I invited you to accompany me, I was not expecting sex. We have adjoining rooms reserved. I'm sure there is a lock on the door. Did you make arrangements to get off work?"

“I must be back on Tuesday."

“Perfect. The banquet is Sunday night. We'll come back Monday morning."

“I'll ... I'll see you about three,” she said.

Tim approached the head of the conference table in his study. “Settle down, everybody.” He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Sandy and I appreciate your time. I know some of you need to get back to work on this Friday afternoon. We promise to keep the meeting short."

“Tim,” Vic Kimel said. “Is there any way we can call off the town meeting? No organized opposition to incorporation has surfaced. Aren't we just inviting trouble?"

“I don't see any way we can do that,” Sandra said, “but I agree, the less said, the better."

Tim coughed. “Good old cigarettes,” he mumbled as he stubbed out the white stick. “We announced this meeting a long time ago. It would look bad to cancel at this late date. However, I agree with Sandy—the less said, the better."

“What if it rains, Tim?” Carl Elliott asked. “There's not room for everybody inside the church or under the picnic pavilion."

“Frankly,” Tim joked, “I think we should pray for rain. That would give us a legitimate excuse to cancel."

Sandra held up a manila folder. “You all have copies of the speeches,” she said. “Tim will lead off and serve as the moderator. Council candidates and the mayoral candidate will follow with two-minute talks. It is essential that you memorize your parts and deliver them without adlibbing. This is a carefully orchestrated undertaking. We will emphasize the convenience of water and sewer, the fact that nobody has to tie onto county water and sewer unless he needs it, the increased property values that will result and the importance of preventing Charlotte from annexing us."

Tim nodded in agreement. “Everybody will be in a good humor after feasting on Lexington barbecue provided by yours truly,” he said. “Those who can't find seats under the pavilion can sit on the grass or in the lawn chairs we have asked them to bring. Town meetings have served Sandy and me well since coming to Dot. After incorporation, we won't need them any longer. Let's be damn sure this last one turns out well also."

“Tim,” Susan Kimel said, “according to this schedule, no time has been allotted for discussion. Do you think that is wise?"

“So far we have no opposition,” Tim smiled. “Why risk it? The general acceptance of the community has saved me two million dollars. Let's don't rattle any cages."

Deborah Andrews said, “Two million? I don't understand."

Susan did not catch the expression on Tim's face. “Tim and Sandy were prepared to donate a million towards a town hall and another million to the town treasury to sweeten the pot if any serious opposition came up."

Tim glared at Deborah. “That's something that absolutely must not be mentioned, Dr. Andrews."

“Any questions or comments?” Sandra asked.

“Hearing none,” Tim said, “let's all get back to work. I'll see you at the town meeting right after church on Sunday, and damn it, all of you have your butts in the pews during the worship service. We need to make a good impression."

“Is someone going to read George Bennett's part?” Leora Borders asked as the group headed for the door. I don't think he'll interrupt his honeymoon for the town meeting."

Sandra laughed. “We'll just skip his part,” she said.

“Sandy,” Susan said, taking her by the arm, “I have something I want to discuss with you and Tim privately."

“Make it fast, Susan,” Sandra laughed as she motioned to Tim to join them. “I'm about to wet my britches."

“My practice has expanded so much that I am working night and day. I don't like it and neither does Vic. I heard a rumor that June Dinkins plans to establish a bookkeeping business. I think you should consider using her services. I spend half my time doing your bookwork and I'm not much of a bookkeeper. June's service will be cheaper and just as good if not better."

“She's nothing but a waitress,” Sandy said.

“She's studying bookkeeping at UNC-C right now. They do everything on computer these days. If the data entry is correct, the program does the real work."

“I don't know,” Sandy said.

Tim's eyes were glowing. “Sounds like a great idea. I'll make a point of talking with her about it."

As Susan walked away, Sandra whispered, “Still want your hands on those big tits, huh Dude?"

He grabbed her left buttock, squeezed and smiled. “I saw you take the golf cart to Frank's place last night, Dudette. Is his cock as big as the rest of his body?"

June parked in front of Jay's apartment building and found a note taped to his door. “Something came up,” it read. “Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back ASAP."

She tried the door and found it unlocked. She went straight to the bedroom, saw the crumpled bedclothes and visualized what must have happened the previous night. Must have been a good night for you, too, Jay, she thought as she glanced into the trashcan beside the bed. A three rubber night!

She wandered into the kitchen. Her computer was still in its case on the table where she left it Thursday night. She took it to the front door, determined not to forget it again. She returned to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and twisted off the cap of a beer.She sat at the table as she drank and wondered if Frank still wanted her to keep his books. The vision of his head between Sandra Dollar's legs returned and tears again flowed.

It was after four when Jay arrived. “Let's put your stuff in my car and get out of here,” he demanded gruffly.

For over an hour they rode in silence.

“Are you going to refuse to talk with me the entire weekend?” she finally asked. He glanced at her briefly. The expression on his face alarmed her.

“I was fired this morning,” he said coldly. “To be entirely accurate, my resignation was forced."

“Jay, what happened?” She unconsciously rested her hand on his thigh.

“I was set up. The gal in my bed last night was a co-ed trying to earn extra credit in the accounting course she is taking during summer school."

“Is she ... is she of legal age?"

“Who knows? UNC has a very strict rule against fraternization between students and professors."

“Why would she report it?"

“She didn't. The chairman of the department is an ugly bitch who has been after me for two years. I think she's been stalking me. She saw Julie come to my apartment last night and leave this morning. She reported it to the dean of women. The dean of women called Julie in and threatened to kick her out of school unless she confessed. Then it went to the dean of the college. He called me in and gave me a choice of proving my innocence and, failing to do so be fired, or of resigning."

“So you resigned."

“It wasn't much of a choice."

“When is your resignation effective, after the summer term?"

He shook his head. “It's effective immediately. They very graciously gave me two weeks to get out of the apartment."

“Jay, what will you do?"

“There hasn't been time to think that far. My sideline business with collectibles will keep me financially afloat for a while, but finding another job teaching is going to be difficult. Every school to which I apply will check with the UNC-C department of human resources. Nobody wants a professor who screws his students."