Escape to Paradise

About six months ago I got my Associate’s Degree in criminal justice, hoping some day to hook up as a paralegal with a district attorney’s office. When the opportunity came up to work toward a Bachelor’s Degree, I decided to take a few more courses to see if I was serious enough about the subject matter to move on to even bigger and better things. I signed up for six credits at Colorado University, which meant four two-hour nights at school (leaving only Wednesdays free for me during the week). The course I enjoyed the most involved a history of serial killers. I had read most of Ann Rule’s books, so I knew a little bit about the subject, but Professor William Beacham had a knack of making each case history unique and interesting.

There were 12 of us in the class, eight men and four women. All of us, except for one woman, were in our early twenties. Kim appeared to be 36 or 37, but she was the one who provided a lot of inspiration for the class. She was really cute with dark-red hair that was cut short and tons of freckles. Her smile and her laughter were infectious. She had taken very good care of herself, as evidenced by her trim figure. She was smart as a whip and, more often than not, led the class discussions. I think the thing I liked about her the most was her sharp wit. She could make the whole class laugh with her humor. Professor Beacham made her his little “pet,” but it was obvious there was nothing more than a teacher-student relationship between them.

During a classroom break, I was sitting at a table by myself, hoping a cup of coffee would get my through the rest of the evening. Kim came into the break room and got a cup of chocolate from the vending machine. Looking around the room she noticed I was by myself. She politely asked if she could join me. I smiled and said, “Please do. Talking will stop me from going to sleep.”

She sat across from me. We introduced each other. Damn, she was cute as button. I had never been really good friends with anyone older than 30, but I liked her almost instantly. It wasn’t a sexual liking, by any means. I noticed her wedding ring, so I assumed she was straight anyway. Kim was just about the easiest person to talk to that I had ever met. And I liked the way she looked into my eyes when she spoke. She was an attentive listener as well.

“So what do you do for a living,” she asked.

“I work at a day-care center for children. I’m the assistant manager. Eventually, though, I’d like to get into something that is criminal justice related. You?”

“Strictly a housewife. Husband, children. The whole bit. I am only taking this course because I am interested in learning how to be a serial killer.”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

She laughed, and I knew she was kidding. “Of course,” she continued, “not too many serial killers have stayed out of jail. I want to be the first one to never get caught.”

“A noble idea, Kim,” I said, pan-faced. “Have you already started on your little adventure?”

“Not yet. I’m really just sizing up potential victims. It has to be done in such a way, you know, that the first few look like accidents, so the police don’t get suspicious.”

“Have you decided on a modus operandi yet?

“Yup. All my victims will be female, young ones, between 20 and 25.”

God, I hope she was kidding. I tried to hide a gulp. “I see. That makes a lot of sense to me. The police will start looking for a male perpetrator. They would never suspect a woman.”

“Exactly, BethAnne. Would you like to be my partner?”

This time my gulp was far too obvious. “You mean your partner on a killing spree?” I asked, my voice almost in a whisper for fear of being overheard. “Well, I guess that would be more to my liking than being your first victim.”

Kim laughed out loud. “You would make a delightful partner. But you don’t look like a very willing victim.”

“I would think most victims are not very willing.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile as pretty as the morning, “all of my victims will be willing, at least until the coup de gras.”

I looked at my watch. Almost 8:30. Time to get back to class. “Can I get back to you later with my final answer?” trying to hold back a smirk.

“You mean on whether you want to be my partner or a victim?”

Despite the subject matter, I was somehow drawn to Kim, and I couldn’t explain to myself why. “Oh, I’ve already decided that I want to be your first victim. I just need to tell you when.”

Kim laughed once more and, in the process of laughing, nonchalantly put her hand over mine. Her touch, seemingly meaningless, sent a bolt of electricity through me. “I’ll go easy on you. It will be a learning experience.”

We got up and left the break-room together. It was summertime. The weather had been close to 90 degrees all day. I was wearing a pair of old dungarees and a shirt, from Joe’s Crab Shack, that had a peace sign on the back and a front that read “Lovers eat crabs.” On the other hand, Kim was wearing a pink and white flowered sundress with straps and a V neck that showed off a lot of her freckles. We were 14 years apart in age, we were dressed quite differently, but there was something about her that attracted me instantly. Part of me wanted something more; the other part of me, the realistic side, said she was married and was probably too straight to mess with.

After class, on the way to car, I felt someone close behind me. I turned my head. It was Kim. “Stalking me?” I asked with the cutest smile I could muster.

She giggled like a school girl and moved at a bit faster pace so she could catch up with me. “Yup. And now I’ve got you!” She jokingly grabbed my arm. “What a delightful first victim!”

“If I have to go at such a young age, would it be okay with you if I at least had a few drinks to help ease the pain?”

Kim smiled. “Is that an invitation to go out for a drink?”

“There’s a place right up the street that serves a mean Irish Coffee.”

“Killigans?”

“Yup.”

“Meet you there in five minutes!”

As I opened my car door and threw the books in the back seat, my heart was strangely pounding. It was late and I was tired, put the thought of talking more with pretty Kim had given me a second wind. We arrived at Killigan’s simultaneously.

The first decision we had to make was for a table or a booth. Kim chimed in right away. “Booth. It’s a lot more quiet.”

The room was not real crowded. The music seemed softer than normal, and there was not of annoying chatter. As soon as we sat down, we order Irish Coffees.

“Do you plan on meeting all of your victims over drinks?” I asked.

“Only those who claim they need to be in a mellow mood before I let them have it.”

“Good idea. And it’s probably better that you vary your m.o. from time to time. If you get seen in public with too many of your victims, that is certain to raise the veil of suspicion.”

“Exactly. You seem to know a lot about methods. Maybe you should be the serial killer.”

“And you my first victim?”

“All’s fair in love and war, BethAnne.”

“Beth,” I said. “Only my mother calls me ‘BethAnne.’ All my friends call me ‘Beth.’”

“Okay, ‘Beth’ it is. Can we be serious for a second?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Thanks. I really needed this time to chat with someone. My hubbie’s been away on an extended business trip and my two daughters are away at college. I was getting sort of lonely at home with no one to talk to.”

“Your daughters are in college?” I asked incredulously. “Were you a child bride or something?”

Kim laughed. “My first marriage was at seventeen. Guess you could call it a child bride. We had children the first two years. Then things went downhill. I got a divorce when I was only 20. Try getting a date as a 20 year-old with two kids hanging around. I was 26 when I met my current hubbie. He was great with children and his sexual appetite was unbelievable. So we got married two years later. And here I am.”

“Are you happily married?”

There was a pregnant pause as she pondered her answer. “For the most part, yes. Of course, what was happening five or six times a week while we were dating, and for the first few years of marriage, only happens once or twice or month now.”

“That’s probably about par for the course. You’ve been married 11 years?”

She nodded. “I like your math skills!”

I sensed there might be a course to be chartered here, and Kim was beginning to turn me on more and more. I decided to go for the kill. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“No problem, sweetie.”

“Is it still good for you, though?”

Her answer came without hesitation. “Not nearly as good as it was five years ago.”

She was still fairly young. And quite attractive. “Have you thought about… ah…”

“Looking outside of marriage?” she interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Oh, the thought has crossed my mind. But I guess I am a little scared. Anyways, Beth, I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation. What about you? You are really cute. I bet you have them lined up at the door.”

For just a heartbeat, I thought about telling Kim I was a lesbian, but I decided to give the subject some time to build. “Well, I’m single. But I really don’t date. I dated a lot when I was going to school, but it got pretty stale.”

“Damn, girl, you are young and pretty. You’ve got a beautiful figure and a sweet personality. You should be getting it on every night. What do you do for excitement?”

It was time to let a little more of the cat out of the bag. “I’ve got a roommate. Heather. We usually find something to keep us occupied.”

Kim looked at me for what seemed like an eternity. I could almost see her mind buzzing. The suspense was killing me. I wished she would ask THE question, so we could move on. Finally, she got up the nerve. “Beth, are you… are you and Heather… ah…”

I smiled. It was finally time. Before she could muster the right words, I said, boldly and freely, “Yes, Kim, we are lesbians.” The word “lesbians” tripped so lightly off of my tongue it surprised me. “Does that bother you, Kim?”

“Not at all. In fact…” Her words trailed off into space.

What was she about to tell me? I had to know. So I pressed, “Yes?”

She looked deeply into my eyes, melting me on the spot. “I guess I have always been a bit curious about girls.”

My heart started racing. I was becoming more and more attracted to Kim, and now she had opened the door, however slightly. The good side of me told me to drop the subject and move on; the devil inside me told me that this little cutie, 14 years my senior, was ripe for the pouncing. Of course, I pounced.

“Curious enough to do anything about it?” I asked, nonchalantly taking a sip of the Irish Coffee through a straw while I kept my eyes glued to hers.

“Only once. A year ago. A girl about your age. But it never went beyond a little petting. I think we were too scared.”

“So you like robbing the cradle, huh?”

She laughed. “If I have an attraction for women, and I guess I do or I wouldn’t be telling you this, it is for girls about your age.” Wow! Who was coming on to whom here? “But,” she continued, “with most girls your age the attraction usually isn’t reciprocal.”

It was time to go for all the marbles, to throw it all on the line, here and now. “Kim, may I be really honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I am very attracted to you.”

“Honesty is the best policy, Beth. And, if I may say so, the attraction is mutual.”

Well. Not quite a done deal. But the cards were on the table. I had just been dealt a royal flush. “Do you think we should do something about this mutual attraction?” I asked, as my face flushed a thousand shades of red.

“What about Heather?”

“What she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her. What about your hubbie?”

“He won’t be back until Tuesday. He’s in Seattle on a business trip. The house is empty.”

I smiled. “Is than an invitation?”

“We better go there before I change my mind,” she replied.

I put my hand over hers and held it there. Our eyes were locked on each other’s. “If you change your mind I’ll become the serial killer.”

Kim laughed. “I live at 3024 Constitution. First house on the left after Riverland Drive.”

“Keep the light on!” I said as we both arose from the table. I thought my heart was about to pound right out of chest.

I was feeling a little high from the Irish Coffee, but the feeling of euphoria that was sweeping all over me at this moment was unbelievable. I had no idea what might transpire at Kim’s house, maybe nothing, but I could feel that familiar feeling of anticipation in my loins. The sweet tingle between my legs was all too obvious. I was nervous as all get-out, but I was really looking forward to my latest adventure.

Kim’s house was gorgeous, tastefully decorated (mostly in light pastels), and thankfully air-conditioned. She made me feel at home almost immediately. She was friendly without acting awkwardly. I mean, here we were, knowing why the both of us were here, but she had a way of easing any discomfort and nervousness.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked.

I was still a bit light-heated from the drink at Killigans. “Just some ice water,” I replied.

I sat down on the sofa and awaited Kim’s return with the water. She placed it on a coaster in front me, leaning far enough over in the process to give a me quick peak down her bodice. She was wearing a white bra. There wasn’t a lot of cleavage, but I did notice that the very top of her breasts were freckled, just like her chest. I wondered if she had caught me looking. When she sat down next to me, her face was beet red.

“I’m very nervous,” she admitted.

“Don’t be. I won’t bite you.”

She laughed. “Then why are you here. I was hoping to get bitten!”

I sipped on the water as the ice tingled in the glass. Thoughtfully, she had put a lemon in the water to give it a little flavor.

“I never bite on the first date,” I said.

“Well, what do you do on the first date?” she asked.

I put my drink on the coaster and turned toward Kim. “This…” I replied, putting a hand behind her neck and drawing her toward me. The kiss seemed perfectly natural. Tentative at first, we shared each other’s lips for a few moments. I wasn’t wearing lipstick; Kim’s lips were glazed with something that made them soft and pliable. As the kiss lingered, the passion began to build. She leaned in closer to me in what had now become a full embrace. Her breasts felt very nice against mine. I put my arm around her and lightly scratched her back. She ran her hand through the back of my hair.

Kim was the first to use her tongue. Just a soft lick at my lips, testing the waters I guess. When I moaned and opened my mouth in silent invitation, Kim wasted no time in driving her tongue, velvet-soft and saliva-filled, into me. I let her explore for while, then drove her tongue out with mine as we wrestled for territory. My tongue searched everywhere it could inside her mouth. The kiss seemed to go on forever. And I never wanted it end. The both of us were breathing more raggedly with each passing moment. I had the feeling we both were going to enjoy the rest of this evening.

When we finally decided to come up for air, Kim could hardly catch her breath. “You are a little hottie,” she said between inhales and exhales.

“You are not so bad yourself. I like the way you kiss.”

She smiled that beautiful smile once more. I was so drawn to her it was unbelievable. “I’m so glad we met.”

“You have a way of making me feel very comfortable in what could have been an awkward situation,” I said. I really meant it. Maybe it was her maturity. Maybe it just came natural to her.

“I never want you to feel uncomfortable, Beth. I want you always to feel at home with me. I promise never to be pushy.”

We were still hugging. She nestled her head in the crook of my neck and I gently brushed my fingers over her left cheek. She cooed softly. Her diamond earring glistened brightly from the light next to the sofa. Every time she took a breath her breasts pressed more tightly against my chest. Her hand came to rest lightly on my thigh.

I leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. She moaned. I kissed and licked for several moments, every once in a while stealing my way up to ear. She moaned even more loudly at each touch of my lips to her ear. I made a mental note that I had found a really hot spot that called for further exploration. As I kissed her, Kim’s left hand flowed through my hair. She was really messing up what I had carefully brushed into place earlier in the evening, but I didn’t care. I played sweet music on her neck with my lips and tongue, goaded on by the sounds coming from deep inside her throat.

Almost nonchalantly, I let my right hand come to rest lightly over Kim’s left breast, over the bodice of the sundress. It felt so natural for my hand to be there. From somewhere in the house I heard chimes ring from a clock. I counted ten of them. My roommate would wonder why I did not come home directly from class, as I usually did, but it was not entirely unusual for me to have a drink or two afterward. Having spent a little time at Killigans with Kim, it would only be a little white lie…

Purposely, I did not move the hand that still rested over the fullness of a breast that I soon hoped to become well acquainted with. Kim knew my hand was there, knew I would soon be caressing her, but I wanted her to want it more before I proceeded any further. It was, however, time to begin an all-out attack on her ear. If she was as sensitive there as I was, I would have her literally eating out of my hands (or other places!) in seconds.

At first, I merely brushed her hair to the side, to give me unfettered access, and planted a few soft kisses over her ear. “Mmmmm,” she cooed. “I love that, Beth!”

Simultaneously, I drove my tongue into Kim’s ear and, for the first time, gently squeezed the fullness of her breast. She immediately moaned and shifted her whole body more into me, easing her left leg over both of my legs and forcing her skirt fairly high up her thighs in the process. I gave her ear a tongue bath, literally. Every once in a while I drove the tip of my tongue into it, making her cry out in pleasure. I toyed with her ear with relentless abandon for the better part of five minutes. Her cries of delight reverberated throughout the room.

Using only the side of my thumb, I brought Kim’s nipple into full erection beneath the bodice and bra. Suddenly, I felt her left hand move away from my hair directly over my right breast. She squeezed it gently. “Oh, baby…” I whispered into her ear, followed by a gentle flow of warm breath that seemed to intensify the moment a thousand fold. She quickly pressed her hand really hard over my tit and moaned from deep inside her throat.

Having brought her nipple to hardness, it was time to move on. Without breaking away from her ear, I moved my hand to Kim’s thigh, just below the hemline of the skirt. She was wearing stockings or pantyhose, making her legs feel ultra-smooth. I used gentle pressure on her thigh as a hint to pull her over me. She took the hint and before I knew it, her body was directly over mine with my left leg just inside her dress. The movement brought my tongue away from her ear, but now afforded her total access to my neck and ear.

Kim returned the favor. She was all over me, doing everything I had done to her and more. I used the building heat to grab her ass, over the sundress, with both of my hands. I squeezed each globe tightly every time I felt her tongue delve into my ear. Feeling brave, I pulled the back of the skirt up until I had easy access to her pantyhose-covered derriere. I played with her buns to my heart’s content as Kim laved my neck and ear with sweet, wet licks and kisses.

She finally stopped the kissing long enough to ask, breathlessly, “Would you like to go my bedroom, honey?”

I liked being called “honey.” I smiled. “Only if you let me have my way with you.”