Encounters

"Oh, my," she says, cuddling against me even more, bringing her lips close to my ear, "I bet you would!"

I whisper to her again, "Your scent is so . . . alluring . . . tantalizing——that's the word. Tantalizing to my senses. You're driving me crazy." She leans back to look at me with glazed eyes. Our crotches glued together, I can see the lust in eyes and I want nothing more than to take her right there on the dance floor and fuck her in front of her husband and God and everyone. "What are the chances?"

"I have to get Sam home, Chad. I'll talk to you soon," is her only response and she leaves me there on the dance floor with a boner. But it isn't the first hard-on I've had while walking through my club and it probably won't be the last.

I become busy then, because one of the bouncers is having problems with a drunk and I have to make sure the outcome is to our best interests. The next time I look, Elena is supporting Sam with her arms and her two friends are holding the door open for them as they leave.

I cross to them to say goodbye, but before I can, she says, "I have to get Sam home, Chad. Thanks for a wonderful time and I'll see you soon."

I stare at her face and she winks at me. Turning to the other two women, I bid them goodnight. I pat Sam on the shoulder and usher them into the night. Damn! Shit! That wink still lures me on. I know she's mine. If not tonight, then soon.

ENCOUNTER FOUR

Is this getting frustrating? Damn right. I haven't had a date in two weeks. I'm beginning to think this woman sees me as someone she can taunt and get away with it. She obviously leads her husband around by his cock, so I guess she thinks she can do the same with me. Even as I scoff at the idea, I'm masturbating furiously——thinking of her.

After three weeks, I get a note from Elena delivered to the club by a messenger that no one noticed. It obviously wasn't her. My employees surely would've noticed her. The typed note read:

Dear Chad,

I wanted to apologize about the other night, but with the raucous behavior in the club and with Sam being so drunk, we decided we'd better get out of there. I'm sure you'll have it under control the next time we come back. The girls, Robin and Charlene, really thought you were handsome and debonair. LOL

There is a scribbled Elena at the bottom. Were she here, I'm not sure I would've been able to restrain myself from damaging her beyond all recognition. I'm only kidding. I'd never hit a woman. They are built for better and more delectable things. But I'm just so frustrated.

ENCOUNTER FIVE

I have the flu and it's killing me. I've been sick for three days and nights. I'm freezing, sweating, aching, and damn near delirious when my doorbell rings on a Saturday morning.

"Go away," I call.

There is a knock and I cover my head with my pillow, hoping whoever it is will go away. But I can still hear them knocking at my door and then they start ringing the bell again. Then there's yet more pounding on the door. The postman, I think. My mother has probably sent me a registered package——which is just like her. I wrap my quilt around my sweaty, pajama-clad body and make my way down the hall, through the living room, and then to the front door. I open it.

In a state of shock, I gasp, "Elena?"

She pushes me out of the way——no real feat considering I'm so weak——and walks into my living room. Okay, I'm a bachelor. I don't sweep everyday. I don't wash dishes after every meal. I haven't shaved or bathed in four days. I'm sure I stink and I am equally sure I look awful.

She looks around and then turns to face me. "Fever?"

I nod. "I haven't taken my temperature though."

"You have to get back to bed. Don't worry about anything. I'm in charge." She leads me back into the bedroom and pulls off my quilt from around me. She then pushes me back onto the bed and makes it presentable. At least the upper covers anyway. "You sleep. I'm going to run you a bath in a minute and you can get yourself cleaned up. You'll be amazed how much better you'll feel."

She dumbfounds me, but I am also very tired, so I'm asleep the minute she walks out of the room.

* * * * *

My rest is disturbed by her administration of Tylenol and fluids, including the most amazing chicken soup. My rest is again disturbed by the sounds of a vacuum cleaner and then running water. She gets me up and sinks me into a warm bath. She washes me——my hair, my back, my crotch. At one point, I believe I hear her mutter, "My, my, a big boy." But I'm not absolutely sure that's what she said. I'm not really sure of anything.

My rest is disturbed yet again by a fleshy presence next to me, holding me, soothing me. Even with the fever, I can feel her nudity and know that she's gotten into bed with me, but she won't let me touch her. She cuddles me from behind while her hand holds my penis.

When I wake, I'm rested, dry, fever-less, and groggy eyed. In other words, I'm well. I can tell my flu is over. My memory is hazy and I wonder if I only dreamed about Elena. However, my clean house and washed dishes suggest her presence was real.

After I shave and dress, I go to the club and catch up on paperwork and my staff's idiosyncrasies. Amazingly, we made more money while I was sick than we ever do when I'm well and at work. I kinda feel like Jack Benny in that movie where his accountant tells him at breakfast that Jack made seven million dollars, or so, while he slept the previous night. Jack immediately gets up to leave the room and the accountant asks him where he's going. Jack says he's going back to bed. If he can make that kind of money when he's sleeping, then why should he get up?

But later that evening, I answer the phone to find Elena on the line. "So, you're finally up and around," she says.

"You really were there, weren't you?" I ask.

"Nah, it was only a dream."

"You have me bewitched, woman. What do you want?"

She laughs into my ear. "I have what I want, Chad. You——bewitched."

"There has to be more to it than this," I say.

Her laughter continues. "You mean like . . . sex and things like that?"

"Yeah, I mean things like that——but mostly sex."

Her laughter grows. "What do you call two people nude in bed when you can't get it up?"

I have to laugh now. "I don't know. What?"

"A missed chance," she whispers into the phone and hangs up.

ENCOUNTER SIX

I walk into the cleaners to drop off my laundry and I feel a small hand on my shoulder. As I'm turning around, Elena asks, "Don't you have a washing machine at your place?"

"Ha! It's you. By the way, how did you know where I live?"

She stares me right in the eye. "I followed you home one night."

"You what?" I ask sharply, startling the person behind the counter. I turn and gave my stuff to the counter person and she starts writing me a ticket. When I turn around, Elena is gone. I rush outside, look both ways, and then I bend down and move along the street, looking inside the cars. Nothing.

I go back into the cleaners and pick up my ticket. Stuffing it into my pocket, I go back to my house. As I'm inserting my key in the door's lock, I place my hand on the door and it swings open on its hinges freely. A chill goes up my spine, because I'm sure I locked the door when I left.

I enter the house slowly, my eyes darting from one side to the other as I move through the house. It is obvious that there's no one in the living room, so I move on. Every nerve in my body is charged with an intensity I've never felt before. I'm tense and sweating.

There is no one in the dining room, no one in the kitchen, no one in the guest bath, and no one in the utility room. I turn and walk back through the dining room to the hall. The hall is dim, but as far as I can see there's no one in it. I flip on the light switch on my left and the hallway becomes illuminated, stretching emptily before me.

This is a two bedroom, two bath house. The master bedroom has a self-contained bathroom as well as a walk-in closet. It's on my right at the end of the hall. On my left is the closed door to the second bathroom. My heart pounding, my breath running rampant in and out of my lungs, I open the door and flip on the light switch. It's empty, so I move on.

Next on the left is the second bedroom. As I approach the door, I glance to my right and see that the door to my bedroom is closed. I never leave it closed. The door to the second bedroom is usually closed, because it saves on heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer. I stretch out my hand, take the doorknob to the second bedroom, turn it, and push it open. Sweat drips into my eyes and for a moment I can't see anything until I wipe it away with my sleeve. The room is empty, so I quickly cross to the closet and open its door. It contains my out-of- season clothing and an old gym bag. There is no one there. No bogie man in the closet——or in my gym bag.

I turn and leave the second bedroom. Approaching my door, my pulse is pounding in my ears, my eyelids are stretched wide-open, and my eyeballs are distended. I press on, take the doorknob in my hand, twist it, and it opens. I push it open further, so I can see into the room. There's no one in the bedroom, so I cross to the bath. There's no one in the bath. I take a hand towel off a rack and wipe my face with it.

Absentmindedly, I continue holding it as I exit the room. I'm beginning to rush now, wanting to confront who or whatever has invaded my home. I quickly move to the closet. Pushing my clothes this way and that way, causing them to fall off their hangers and land listlessly on the floor, I look for someone I never find. I go back out into the bedroom again. Standing there, I realize there could be someone under the bed, so I bend down and look——no one. Slightly calmed, I sink down onto the bed and wipe my face again with the towel I'd picked up in the bathroom.

After a moment, my mind shifts back to normal. I begin to think and not react. Then I laugh at myself.

Stupid, you left the fucking front door open and you've been in hysterics because of it. Shit almighty damn!

I stand up and pace back and forth in the room. Finally, I throw the hand towel onto the bed and leave the bedroom, going back to the living room.

Elena is sitting at the dining table, drinking one of my Cokes out of my refrigerator. I know, you must think I'm crazy. How do I know she didn't bring the coke with her when she came? Because I know, dammit! It's damp with condensation and her hand is wet from it. And I know, deep inside of me, that she's been here all along and I'm beginning to understand now who it is I'm really afraid of.

"Hello, Chad," she says, looking up at my completely stunned face. Smiling innocently, she continues, "The door was open, so I made myself at home. I thought I heard you back there."

Somehow I get myself together——I don't know how. I just reached into my deepest reserves and found control. "Good. I'm glad you're here. Yeah, I was just rearranging some things back there. What are you doing here? We can't cuddle nude and not consummate our lust like we did when I was sick."

"Oh, that. Actually, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was watching you——I like watching you, you know——and I saw you enter your house. There was something about you——a hesitance, or maybe a skittishness——that was so obvious in your posture that I thought I'd better come and make sure you were all right."

"So, you came in and I was making a lot of noise like maybe I was throwing things around." Elena nods, bright-eyed and smiling, so I continue, "And you, being as worried about me as you were, just came in, grabbed a coke, sat down, and waited for me to get over my . . . fit?. . . and come back out into the dining room. Is that about right?"

"Well," she says, pausing to sip her Coke, "when you put it that way, it sounds kind of callous of me, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I say, "it does."

She looks up at me so innocently. "But you don't think I'm callous, now do you?"

"Actually, that's just what I think. And I'm thinking much more derogatory things than callous, as a matter of fact."

The anger in her eyes comes from nowhere——so suddenly, that it is a shock to the senses. "What the hell do you mean by that?" She throws the Coke can at me, but I sidestep it and it crashes to the floor, leaking out onto the stone flooring of the kitchen.

"I think I'm getting tired of the pussyfooting we've been doing, Elena. It's time to put up or shut up. And by shutting up, I mean ta-ta."

"Ta-ta?" She scowls at me. "You are a sick man. What do you mean by put up or shut up? Sex. That's what's occupying that small mind of yours, isn't it?"

"I've had it lady. Go home to your husband. No one needs you here and he obviously tolerates your bullshit. So go home."

"You dirty bastard," she sputters. "You cheap, sick——"

She stops quite suddenly and tries to slap me. But when I manage to avoid that, she pivots on her heels, storms head held high through the living room, and slams the front door on the way out.

THE INTERLUDE

For the next three days, I amaze myself with my ability to burn my bridges behind me. Did I really want to offend and discard Elena? She is so beautiful. So sensual. So soft. So firm. She has such gorgeous eyes. And such a great ass . . .

On the fourth day, I finish analyzing myself and call my manager. The one nice thing about being me is that I really don't have to spend much time at work. Coming in once a month would probably be enough and I probably could pay an accountant to do that if I wanted to live in the South of France or something——but I don't.

Carl, my manager, is a good man and I trust him completely. He has three children and his wife left him, so he works all the hours I'll give him. He agrees to cover for me while I'm gone. I explain to Carl about Elena and tell him to keep an eye on her if she comes in.

Next, I call Ann, one of my two ex-lovers. Amy and I go out of town for the week. At the coast, there's a hotel that has private rooms facing the ocean. It is one of my favorites and Ann and I have a wonderful week there.

"So," Ann inquires while we are enjoying breakfast one morning. "Now that we've gotten all that animal lust out of systems, where have you been the last month? I never got a call that I remember."

I look up from my newspaper. Did I mention that Ann has this really great birthmark just above her left buttock? "I don't remember any calls from you either, come to think of it."

She smiles at me through a mass of curls. "You know how I keep myself occupied. I'm so busy I don't notice time passing, but somehow I noticed that you weren't calling." She tosses her auburn hair back out of her eyes.

I probably also didn't mention that we're sitting nude at the table while eating breakfast, did I? Ann is a cute stage actress with a great body and an excellent mind, who I've gone with off and on over the last several years. "I too have been busy."

"With a woman?" Her eyebrows rise . . . dramatically?

"I think it was, but maybe it wasn't. When you're as busy as I am, such incidental things don't make too much of an impression."

"Did it hurt?" She reads me too well.

"I didn't fuck her!"

Ann laughs and I join in. "No wonder she got under your skin."

"She's married. It was just an encounter. A couple of encounters."

"No wonder you were so horny," she laughs.

"Still am," I say. I stand and pick her up from her chair. We kiss long, hard, and penetratingly. We make love between the table and the kitchen range——lustily. With butter. Hey, I saw Last Tango in Paris, too.

* * * * *

We return home and to our respective workplaces——me with an invigorated attitude. The club ran well with no incident while I was gone. Carl tells me that Elena came in one night and asked for me. He told her that I was out of town and she left.

I find messages at work and at home from her saying, "Call me."

I sit by the phone for a long time trying to decide what I should do, but I don't call her. I'm thinking she'll probably disappear if I don't feed her fire. I call everyone else who called me though. Amy is one of them. Amy is the other woman who used to come around and make whoopee. Amy is a college professor at Columbia, so I don't see her as much as Ann. But she's a great fuck and funny too, so I call her back.

THE FINAL ENCOUNTER

Amy is riding beside me as we pull onto my street and drive toward my house. We are very relaxed and both of us are dressed casually. I'm wearing a polo shirt and a pair of jeans while Amy is wearing shorts and a very tight blouse. She was also carrying her purse, but earlier she tossed it into the back seat. We had a wonderful afternoon at the park and I know she is just as anxious as I am for a bath and some bedroom games.

As we pull up to the garage, I hit the garage door opener and the door rises. The light inside the garage doesn't come on, but that doesn't surprise me. The bulb probably burned out. I pull into the garage and shut down the engine.

It's then that I notice someone standing in the shadows at the back of the garage. Amy sees the person also and blurts out, "Who is that?"

I open my car door and get out. I look at the person as they come forward slightly. It's Elena. She's wearing a long slicker of some sort and she has her right hand in her pocket. Her hair is uncombed and she stands slightly askew. She looks funny and the word "maniacal" crosses my mind.

I hear a car door open and I know Amy is getting out of the car. "Elena? What are you doing here?" I ask.

Not even looking at me, she growls at Amy. "Are you going to fuck him?"

Awkward tension fills the air as I look at Amy, who is staring at Elena curiously. With an expression of steely determination, Amy tells Elena, "I don't think it's any of your business what we do——"

Interrupting Amy, Elena expels a harsh gust of air and then begins laughing.

My admiration for Amy growing by the second, she raises her chin defiantly and continues, "But since you've asked——and seem to feel you have some proprietary claim here——the answer is no. I'm not going to fuck him." Now having Elena's complete attention, Amy pauses for effect. "He's going to fuck me. And he's going to fuck me until I can't stand."

"Bitch," Elena cries out.

I know a cat fight is going to break out at any minute, but I don't know how to stop it. Amy's strength and the way she's standing up to Elena amazes me.

"Get the fuck out of here," Elena screams at Amy, who holds her ground.

While watching Amy with appreciation, I see her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, my God," she mutters.

I turn to see what caused this change in Amy and find that Elena has drawn a pistol——apparently from her coat pocket——and is pointing it at Amy. When I take a step towards Elena, she turns the weapon on me, causing me to step back again. Hey, you would too. Having a gun pointed at you is a scary thing.

Turning the gun back on Amy, Elena says, "I'll tell you one more time, run for your life." Her last few words came out as a maniacal scream.

Amy turns and runs and I take another step backward. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Amy stop just behind the car.

Elena turns the gun on me again and says, "Get back here, asshole."

My heart going crazy in my chest, I move a step back towards her. My erratic pulse is pounding in my ears and I'm sweating profusely. I'm trying to think of a way out of this mess, but it's hard to think clearly when you're afraid for your life——believe me.

"Go!" Elena screams at Amy again and I see Amy run out of sight.

Dammit, Amy hasn't got her purse. Her cell phone in her purse. So how is she going to call for help?

"Now, you," Elena says and moves closer to me, which I really don't want her to do. Getting more jumpy with every step she takes closer to me, I feel as if I'm going to have a damn anxiety attack. My mind spinning, I try to decide what I should do.