Intruder

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She's alone - isn't she?
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Anitole
Anitole
270 Followers

With the lights on it was easy work to finish up in the bathroom. After running a cloth over my face to remove what little make up remained after the bath. I took out my hairbrush and went into the bedroom. I made sure to lock both the doors behind me. I didn't know what had just happened but I was pretty sure what I was thinking was stupid. Nobody was in the house. I was alone. And if nobody was in the house and I was alone I was just imagining that an invisible man who probably died in 1918 was smoking a pipe and slamming doors in my face.

Old house, I told myself. Funky smells, drafts

Even though I now had electricity, and several brass wall fixture glowed bright in the master bedroom. I kept the scented candles close. The smelled of honey and cinnamon. The bed was furnished with a mattress and box spring but I couldn't find much in the way of bed clothes. I was still barefoot, and wearing a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and a sport's bra. I had a bunch of things in the hatchback parked out front. I shook my head. It was a warm enough night and I really didn't want to go back out into the hall again tonight.

You're being paranoid and childish.

Had this been a normal night, I would have flipped on the tube and watched the late-night talk shows. However, my new house was devoid of television at the moment. First thing we fix tomorrow, I told myself.

To do: Buy Television set.

I suddenly had a bad memory though. Hadn't the ghost come into the house through the television in Poltergeist?

To do: Rent Poltergeist. If proves true that ghost came through TV, return both TV and video.

I sighed realizing there was little for me to do except sleep. I checked my Timex portable alarm clock. It was barely 8:30. For some reason it felt much later. It was then that it occurred to me that I'd probably crossed into a different time zone. I was just trying to figure out whether I'd gained or lost an hour driving east out of the mountains when I heard a distant sound. It was a soft whine at first but as it drew near it became a slight rumble. I moved to the edge of the bed and then to the French doors. I looked out over the lip of the portico railing. A single light was coming down the gravel drive through the oak grove. I watched it for only a second before there was a loud thump.

I leapt around and surveyed the room. I was alone but when the thump recurred I saw my leather jacket fall from the hook on the bedroom door.

"Who is that?"

THUMP.

"Go away. I'll call the police if you're not out of my house in five…"

THUMP! It was an angry thump and in a few seconds it came again and again. The door rattled against its hinges as the thumping increased in volume and rhythm. Finally it reached a point of sheer frenzy. Whatever was on the other side of that door, it really wanted in. In the back of my mind I was aware of the motorcycle roaring into the turnaround in front of the house and then shutting off, but I was too distracted by the pounding on my door to pay much attention to anything.

Then with two loud bangs on the door, the thumping hastily stopped. It was quiet again. I slowly walked over to the door and put my hand against it. I felt the cool white painted wood and pressed my ear to it. Was there someone breathing on the other side? I looked down at the key, still secure in the lock on the door. I turned it gently to the right and with a soft click, the door unlocked and I opened it quickly.

There was no one there. The dark hall was empty. I took a step into the hall, my arms moving up and around my torso. It was very cold in the hallway. Probably another draft

It was then I heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. I jumped at the sound but regained my composure as I heard the key work in the lock and the front door swing open. Someone was humming as they walked into the main entry hall of the house. I leaned over the railing and looked down on the seen.

A light switch was flipped downstairs next to the door, revealing the biker from earlier that after noon. His helmet was off but he was turned away from me, humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. He walked out of the hall and into one of the front rooms. Another light clicked on and I heard the sound of running water. I had an impulse to call out to him but I paused. He had a key! How the hell did a complete stranger have a key to my house?

I quietly went back into my room and rummaged in my overnight bag for my cell phone. I took it out and began dialing 9-1-1 only to hear the annoyed beeping that signified that my battery needed charging. Shit!

I could hear him moving around downstairs. Who was he? What did he want? How the hell did he have keys?

Quickly I crossed over to the bedside table where a small but sturdy lamp stood. I unplugged it, leaving only the ceiling fixture as the source of illumination. I removed the lampshade and the bulb and gave it a practice swing. I took a deep breath and moved back out into the hall, shutting the door to the bedroom quietly.

As I padded quietly down the stairs, trying to keep the boards from squeeking under my feet, I watched the shadow cast long across the entrance hall. Finally, at the base of the stairs I paused and listened. I could hear him humming and singing the words to song by the Rolling Stone's.

"…Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name. Ah, what's puzzlin' you is the nature of my game…"

My heart was pounding as I tried to keep control of my breathing. I was going to have to be quick if I wanted to use the element of surprise to its full effect. I silently counted down from three and then leapt into the room. It was a dining room. It was also empty. The shadow was cast by an empty vase set as the center piece of the table. The humming continued from behind the door on my left. He was in the kitchen. And he was moving pots and pans around from the sound of it.

Again, I syked myself up and held the lamp poised. I began the countdown from three again.

Three. Okay Lily, you can do this. Two. He's not that big. And he doesn't know you're coming. One.

The door to the kitchen suddenly swung open and I jumped back, dropping the lamp to the floor with a loud bang. I screamed and stumbled backward until my butt bounced against the dining room table. The plate the man had been carrying fell to the floor and smashed, as he was equally startled by me. And that was when we both paused, the terror replaced by instant recognition and confusion.

"I…" I said.

"How…" he began.

And we just stared at one another for a time; his arms, slack at his sides, my arms and legs frozen in the act of trying to scramble over the table to get away from him.

"Frank?"

"Lily?"

And then simultaneously we shouted at one another… "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

*****

In 1995, I was 19 and, I'm sure you'll be shocked to know, quite timid. I'd grown up in Chicago and never traveled more than a few miles outside the city. I suppose that may have been my reason for applying to a University so far away from home. I wanted so badly to experience something new and unfamiliar.

My freshman year had been tragically uneventful. I joined a sorority, went to class, went to parties with large groups of friends from my house and went home with them before any of us could get too drunk or too carried away with the college boys we met.

And then, in the fall of my sophomore year something happened. Eight of us went to a party off campus at a house supposedly rented by a friend of a friend of one of the girls in our group. We were there for a few hours, chatting up tons of drunk and horny frat boys when suddenly it was time for us to leave. We gathered at the door and Sabrina, the girl who had drawn the unattractive task of DD did a rapid head count.

"Lily, Hanna, Veronica, Fern, Joanna, Penelope…" Sabrina's eyes went slightly wide as she looked around the room. "Where's Jessa?"

Hanna piped up. "She said we could go on home without her. She met someone who's agreed to give her a lift home."

Sabrina's face morphed into a look of mild consternation. "We came here together we leave together. She knows that!"

Before any of us could say a word in response, Sabrina had cut through our little group at the door and had begun calling for Jessa. We somewhat doggedly followed suit and began asking if any one has seen our friend.

"She's about this high with blonde hair and freckles," I said to a scrawny punk-rocker type leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

He tipped his plastic cup to his lips and drank. When the cup came down again he was smiling. "I saw her talking to my buddy, Frank a little while ago. I think they're out back in the yard."

I looked around for some of the other girls but all of them were apparently off in other parts of the house checking rooms for Jessa. I thanked my informant and began squeezing my way through the maze of bodies toward the back door.

Once outside, I found a group of smokers talking quietly together but Jessa was not among them. I cut through and ambled towards the far end of the yard where a gate led into an alley behind the house. It was kind of a chilly night for early October and I desperately wished I'd worn my parka. I hugged my arms close around me as my heels sank slightly in the soft grass. A few yards away from the gate I became aware of a scuffling sound.

"Hello?" I called sheepishly. I continued on, my steps slowing as I neared the wooden gate. The fence was tall, built for privacy and as my hand fell on the latch I became aware of heavy breathing and soft lyrical squeaks coming from the other side. I was suddenly very aware of what I was hearing. The rhythmic popping noise, the slipping of heals against asphalt. My impulse was to back immediately; to go inside and tell the girls I hadn't found our friend. But something held me there, my hand on the gate latch, my ears cocked and alert.

"Oh, yes!" Jessa panted in a soft whine. "Oh. Oh. Eh."

Her little mutterings were in sync with the shallow, soft popping noises.

"Please, faster," She begged.

The popping increased in intensity and so did the guttural masculine grunts.

I couldn't bare it. My curiosity and sense of adventure forced my hand to pull up on the gate latch and peek out in the alleyway.

Though the gate was only opened a crack I could see the two of them. Jessa with her skirt pulled up to her waist, her panties in a tangle around her knees, and her light sweater hanging like a saggy scarf around her neck. Her bra was off and lying forgotten on the ground at her feet while two large hands fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples gently. The hands were those of a tall and muscular looking guy who, with his fly open and his pants resting on his hips was slipping his rather intimidating cock in and out of Jessa's hole with measured abandon.

"Oh, God!" Jessa moaned, her body shaking. The tall guy pushed all the way into her and held her close, kissing the back of her ear. I'd never seen anyone orgasm before but it was obvious that she had hit one hard like a brick wall.

Though it was dark I took in the features of the stranger unabashedly fucking my friend. I would have place him at around 6' 3", a daunting height for someone more than a foot shorter in heels, and his hair was long and fell over his ears and out of the collar of his almond brown leather jacket. Though he was only naked about the hips for the mechanics of love making, I could see by the state of his hips, thighs and exposed buttocks that he was a pillar of taught sinew, lean and toned with muscles that came from labor and extreme physical exertion.

As Jessa's breathing slowed and she recovered. Her mystery man slowly pulled his member out of her until all that was left inside was the tip. He ran one of his hands up from her dangling breasts to the small of her back where he rubbed her gently as she twitched with the last waves of her climax.

I was about to close the gate and return to the party when to my horror and secret amazement I saw the guy strain his hips and plow deep inside my friend's opening again. Jessa's face went from one of spent bliss to one of sudden shock.

"No," she said, fighting to right herself and pull away. "Let me have a mi…" but she didn't finish the sentence as the tall guy pulled her upright and increased his speed and force two-fold.

Jessa's eyes widened and she let out a heavy gasp. Her hands went back behind her to grip on to her paramour, trying to keep her balance as a violent screaming orgasm enveloped her. I saw all the strength go out of her knees, she buckled but her mystery man held her up, keeping her from fainting and falling to the hard asphalt covered ground. In a split second he strained and grunted, his own dark eyes rolling back slightly under his heavy long-lashed lids; his pants slipping down from his sculpted hips to his ankles. He was coming inside her and it was the most glorious thing I'd seen.

"Lily?"

I jumped and turned to face the person who had called my name. It was Sabrina, calling from the back door of the house.

"Have you found, Jessa yet?"

"No," I called, trying to keep my voice from traveling over the fence. "I think she's already left with whoever it was…"

I felt a hand touch mine and I started. Jessa was beside me, her face all red and her hair in wild tendrils. "I'm here," she called up to the house. "Lily and I are just saying goodbye to someone. We'll be inside in a minute."

Sabrina gave us a wave of dismissal and went back into the house. I turned to Jessa, a look of shock on my face.

She bowed her head, ashamed; she knew I had seen her with that guy.

"Are you ready to go," I said, my voice breathless but still a little harsh sounding.

"Yes." She refused to meet my gaze. "I just… can we wait a minute before we go in?"

I looked down at her clothes. Her sweater was pulled back over her breasts but it was obvious that she had left her bra on the ground where it had been flung. Her skirt was wrinkled and there was the distinct odor of her still excited womb.

Before I could say anything, the gate behind her swung slowly on its hinges and the mystery man stood before me, his pale thin face was still flushed but looked very much composed. His jeans were buttoned and zipped, although there was a tell-all smell of sweat and bodily secretions that gave away what he's just been doing more than a guilty aversion of eye contact or a not-too-innocent smile ever could.

After coming into the yard and closing the gate behind him, Jessa turned to acknowledge his presence but then quickly returned her gaze to the ground just in front of my shoes. He nodded to me and then put his hand on her shoulder turning her to face him. With her head downcast she could only look at his chest, clad in a Smashing Pumpkins tee-shirt that was just visible through the opening of his half-zipped leather biker's jacket. He lifted her face with his hand so that her eyes met his. He smiled at her and she, after a moment's exposure to his radiance, smiled back. They kissed and despite my impulse to turn away, I watched with fascination.

She eventually pulled away from him and came over to stand by me. She pointed to me.

"Frank, this is Lillian she's in my sorority."

Frank nodded to me and extended his hand. I just looked at it for a moment until he put it back down at his side. He sighed heavily and turned back to address Jessa. "I would say call me but…" he let the sentence fall away.

Jessa looked up at him and giggled at the obviously inside joke. Then she turned and walked toward the house and our friends waiting inside. I stood my ground for a moment and then took a step towards the tall biker guy. I put my finger in his chest and looked him right in the eye. "I think you're a pig!" I said, and then turned on my heel to walk away. To my surprise he grabbed my arm and spun me back to face him.

"I don't care!" he said with a smile, and pushed me away toward the house. I scurried away like a frightened mouse expecting never to see him again.

Jessa and I rejoined the group and on the drive home she responded with mild apologies and silence when asked where she had disappeared to for so long. I kept my lip zipped until we had all piled out of the Sabrina's little station wagon and all the girls went inside. Jessa stood against the car until all of them were out of sight. I asked her way she was so timid about walking in with the group and she turned around to show me the large wet stain across the back of her skirt.

"Sabrina's going to be pissed when she notices the mess on her seat cushions," she said, looking through the rear passenger window. "That can't be good for the leather."

Jessa leaned against the car and looked up into the leaves of the tall elm trees that stood all around our old sorority house. I could tell she was thinking about what had just happened to her, the sheer animalian frenzy, the raw passion, the sticky mess I was sure still felt moist in her panties.

"He wasn't even wearing a condom." I said, as the corners of her mouth drifted upward into a smile.

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. "I'm on the pill," she said dismissively. "Besides, I know him well enough. He's safe."

I had the impulse to chide her anyway but bit my tongue as I realized it was pointless. I didn't know much about sex then but I had an inkling that I was seeing a very pronounce case of post coital euphoria. I just looked at shoes.

"Was he your first?" I asked, pretending to be interested in the few stars that were visible through the trees.

"No," she said with a giggle, tossing her cigarette away. "I've had lots of guys, Lily."

I looked into her eyes, displaying my shock. I'd roomed with Jessa for the entire year previous and in that time she'd never once opened up to me about men. To be honest, I'd always thought of her as a bit of a prude. "How many?"

She shook her head and giggled. "I don't fuck and tell."

"But that guy tonight. The way you were together…"

"Oh, Frank is definitely the best by far. Like when I said no and he kept going. Oh God! I had no idea a man could get inside me like that."

"Didn't it hurt? I mean, I saw you and you looked like you wanted to scream."

She walked over to a stone bench under one of the elms and sat, taking care not to sit down to fast. "It still hurts," she said, but grinning nonetheless as she leaned back on her hands and stretched out her legs. "Mmm, but it's such a weird and wonderful kind of hurt, Lily. If I were a poet I'd probably know the exact word for this pleasurable agony I feel down there."

I drug my toe through the dirt, drawing a little circle. "He was really cute."

"For a pig, right?"

I looked up to see her smiling at me. Despite my guise of neo-feminist disgust I let myself smile too. "Has he got a brother?" I asked.

Jessa threw her head back and rippled with laughter. She knew just as well as every girl in the house that I was still a virgin much to my chagrin. When her chuckles subsided she looked at me, amusedly but with a hint of calculation. In a moment she stood up and dug in the front pocket of her sweater. She took out a slip of paper and passed it to me. "You can have him if you like."

My eyes widened. Was she serious? I mean, a guy like that was first of all not my type in the least; too big, too rugged, too… dangerous. And second of all I'd called him a pig. There was no way he would want to even talk to me, let alone…

"He thought you were cute," Jessa said, pressing the slip of paper into my palm.

"Otherwise he would have stopped everything when we heard the gate creek open." She brushed past me and went into the house, leaving me to hug myself in the cold night air. I looked down at the note scrawled in smudged black ink.

Anitole
Anitole
270 Followers
12