The Long Goodbye

I like hardboiled film noir, especially Raymond Chandler. Noir means "dark "and this piece is certainly that. I am exploring why people do self-destructive things. None of the characters are angels. But no one is completely evil either; with one glaring exception – Thanks for reading me – DT

*****

I was at a two-top in Sheffield's. They were sitting in the big booth in the back. He didn't notice me. Why would he? As far as he was concerned, I was a nobody. It was boy's-night-out and he was with his usual pack of admirers. There was a loud laughter. The waitress was giving him a fuck-me stare. I thought, "Seriously??!!"

He was brash as ever; outrageously handsome; six-two and 200 pounds of elegant muscle. He was rich and successful, suave and sophisticated. Self-assurance was his stock-in-trade. He knew that every woman in the place wanted him. He was probably right.

I dropped a couple of twenties, got up, and stepped into the godawful heat of a Chicago, summer. It was twilight and still tropical. The people at the picnic tables must have been made of sterner stuff. Or, they just had friends to sit with.

The lights at Wrigley Field were on. So, the Cubs were home tonight. I knew that the Golden Boy had a corporate suite. Maybe he and his posse were warming up for the game?

Night fell as I strolled back up School Street. The apartment was a classic, brick, Chicago double-decker. I got it for $950-a-month. That should tell you what kind of shape the place was in.

I unlocked the door, walked in and turned on the kitchen light, sat down and waited for the air conditioner to catch up. I poured a finger of cheap scotch into an even cheaper tumbler. Loneliness wrapped itself around me like a 20-foot boa-constrictor.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

I was sitting on the couch enjoying a beer. Pia came out of the kitchen. She was in her soccer-mom outfit, tight jeans and a loose pull over top. She was as luscious as ever. Fourteen years ago, I looked up from a menu and into her dark Italian eyes. I was lost. I asked her out, we fucked, end of story. Marriage was a foregone conclusion.

Nobody in the world can convey sensuality like an Italian woman. Pia has long gorgeous legs. So, she looks taller than her five foot five. She might not be beautiful. But, she DOES radiate smoldering sexuality. Her big tits, and muscular ass add to the impression that she is hot; very hot. Add, thick raven hair, a perfect oval face and big brown eyes to finish the picture.

I put down my beer; carefully selecting a coaster as I did. The sweating bottle had been sitting on the end table prior to Pia's entrance. I knew better than to wave a red flag in front of a bull. She plopped down, leaned against me, and put her head on my chest. Her big soft tits pressed into my arm. She said, "How was your day baby? Mine was exasperating."

I said, "Same shit different day, but it pays the bills." This was what passed for banter among two jaded thirty-eight-year old's. We loved each other. But, the daily grind took its toll on the wild optimism of youth.

I manage a security service. It's not private eye stuff. We mostly do industrial espionage. It was stressful work, but I loved the money. Pia was a paralegal. She decided to go full-time after the last kid left for college.

Every law firm in Evanston wanted her. She settled on Blake, Blake and Tedesco. It was the top shop in the area. She was good. So, she could name her own hours. She went straight through from eight-to-three. Then, she filled in the last hour at home doing legal research. That way we didn't interrupt our established household pattern.

Pia gave me a hug and said half-heartedly, "I have to go out of town tomorrow. We're doing a deposition for the Air Force in Belleville. It's five hours downstate. So, we're going to spend the night in St. Louis and drive back tomorrow. I hate it. But it's an important case."

I travel occasionally and I understood. So, I said, "No big deal Baby. I can survive for a day without you. But, not one minute longer."

She gave me a bright smile and said, "I love you."

She arranged herself sideways on the couch, arms around my neck. We kissed. She moaned and her mouth opened wide. She jammed her two big floating tits into my chest and started moving her upper body around. That way both of us could enjoy the sensation. Her breathing accelerated. She moaned louder,

I began to slide my hand down her flat stomach. Pia comes from millennia of hearty Romans. Even at age thirty-eight she is stronger than most women and there isn't an ounce of fat on her voluptuous body. My hand disappeared past the clasp and zipper of her jeans. It dipped underneath the waistband of her panties and down to its destination. She was soaking wet.

I twiddled her clit for a couple of seconds and she exploded in a gasping orgasm. It was that easy. Pia goes totally nutty after she cums. I don't know whether that happens with all women. But once you get Pia's engine started, she loses all track of where she's at. She began to rip my shirt open making wild little moans and cries.

Pia is very noisy when she fucks. It was 5:30 PM. The windows were wide-open. Our neighbors were on their front porch. They're both in their seventies. I wasn't sure either would survive what they were about to hear. So, I reluctantly pushed Pia back. She looked at me shocked; eyes crazed with lust.

I said, "Much as I hate to do this, we're going to have to stop. That is; unless you want the Thayer's to discover how seriously hot you are." I could see the fire in her eyes die down. It was like somebody turned off the burner on a gas stove.

She looked shamefaced and said, "Thank you, I DO get a little carried away, don't I?" That was the understatement of the millennium.

I kissed her lovingly and said, "Yes you do and I have cherished every second of it." Her amazing sexuality was one of the secrets that the two of us shared. It kept our marriage exciting.

~

I put Pia's overnight bag in the back of her Mini-Cooper. It was the version with 200 surprising horsepower. It's the perfect car for a fiery woman like Pia; unassuming on the outside and totally off the hook when you put your foot down. But it was NOT the right car to drive 300 miles in.

I said, "Who are you driving with?"

Pia laughed and said, "John Tedesco is doing the deposition. I'm going with him. He drives an F-Type. So, I'm riding in style."

I gave her a look of mock-hurt and said, "Now you're too good for a Super-Duty?" A brawny four-wheel-drive diesel truck is part of my tough-guy image.

She stood on tiptoes, kissed me with considerable heat, and said, "I'm yours. Even if you're driving a taxi."

The day passed in normal fashion. I had a beer and burger at the Lighthouse and came back to an empty house. Pia called around 8:30 to tell me that she was staying at the Hyatt by the Arch in St. Louis.

I said teasingly, "How many rooms?"

She giggled and said, "Two, if you're wondering. John's down trolling in the bar." Tedesco's wife had divorced him last year. A woman can only stand so much philandering. He's a hound but I trusted Pia. We did the kissy thing and hung up.

~

Pia ended the call. God, she loved that man!! There was a knock. She was in her nightgown but Tedesco was the only person who could be rapping on her door at that hour. So, she cracked it and peered out. Tedesco said, "Can I come in Pia?" Pia said, "I don't think so John. I've already gotten undressed. If there is something you need, I can do it for you tomorrow."

Tedesco said abruptly, "This can't wait," and pushed past her into the room. Pia turned to confront him. He was standing directly behind her. He grabbed her in a savage embrace and smashed his lips onto hers. Pia made a muffled sound of astonishment and began to struggle.

Tedesco shoved her against the wall. Pia angrily slapped at his head gasping with effort, trying to pry him off her. The gasping opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside. That sensation made her involuntarily moan. Then he slipped a leg between hers and began to push his thigh against her mound. To her horror, Pia felt a liquid tingling down there. Her pulse accelerated and she started to experience an initial feeling of passion. This was so wrong. She was terrified.

Five minutes earlier, she had told her husband that she loved him. Now she was fighting for her virtue. She should have screamed. But it would be embarrassing. Aggressors count on their victim not wanting to make a fuss.

She was in a sheer nightgown, naked underneath. Her big tits were squashed into his chest. Tedesco rolled one of her nipples. That sent a thunderbolt of sensation to her core. It made her red hot and dripping. She felt her body beginning to betray her. She tried one last twist to push him off. All that did was violently rub her clit against his leg. The staggering sensation made her gasp and grunt.

Then his fingers replaced his leg. Pia groaned with the stimulation. She felt the waves of an approaching orgasm, as she continued to fight. His fingers slipped inside her and began that age-old friction. Pia was lost. She gave a loud, prolonged moan and then began to shout "Ahhh!! Ahhh!! Ahhh!! Uhhhhhhhhhhh." The orgasm hit her like a speeding Peterbuilt.

Pia's legs collapsed and she slid down the wall; still noisily cumming. Tedesco picked her up and carried her to the bed. She lay there in a post-orgasmic haze. She heard him shucking his clothes. Her mind was screaming, "Get up and run!!" But her body was lifeless, still recovering. He was just too strong and the orgasm had drained her.

Then she felt him spread her knees, her nether lips parted and a huge cock slipped into places that she didn't know existed. As Tedesco glided up into her, Pia experienced an out-of-body orgasm. That was only the first of many. She had no conscious memory. She was in a constant state of ecstasy. Tedesco must have fucked her at least four times that night.

Pia gave her soul over to the profound sensations. She was a raving animal. She denied Tedesco nothing. Worse, her body remembered every second of the mindless pleasure. She slept for a while in the early dawn, and awoke naked, with the guilt crushing her. She adored her husband. She loved her life. She thought that she was better than that. But this evil man had wrestled her over the edge.

He awoke, as she began to stir. A lazy hand reached over and cupped one big tit and his thumb started rubbing back and forth over her rapidly rising nipple. She gasped and reflexively spread her legs. He moved between them. As he slid up into her; Pia experienced the same feeling that she had four times before. She shrieked with pleasure and they fucked loudly. All thoughts of home and husband eradicated by the crashing, multiple orgasms.

The ride back was silent. She was totally compromised. Her emotions were out of control. She couldn't think of anything to say. He was sitting there full-of-himself.

She was quietly weeping. Finally, she said tearfully, "Why???!! Why did you do this to me???!!"

Tedesco snickered and said, "Because I can, Pia. I've wanted you for a long time. Now you're mine. After what we just experienced, we can never go back. That was why I did it."

In her heart, Pia knew that the bastard was right and she hated herself for it.

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

There had been some burglaries in the Pullman area and we were analyzing the crime factors; trying to fit a dozen or so thefts into a coherent story. I was working with two analysts. The boy was 24 and the eagerest of beavers. The girl was a few years older.

The girl was so hot that I had initially argued against hiring her. I thought she would be a distraction. She was. But she was also the shrewdest analyst I had ever worked with. Her name was Kelly; lovely as dawn over Killarney. It was a perfect name for a flawless Irish beauty;

Kelly had a thick sheaf of copper hair. It hung smoothly past her shoulders; down to the middle of her lissome back. Her face was so dazzling that it was like gazing at the sun without eye protection; huge enigmatic emerald eyes, a long slim Irish nose and impossibly kissable lips. Those lips always seemed to have a secret half-smile.

She was long waisted, lithe, and unusually busty for a slim girl. That was finished off by legs that should have been hung in the museum of perfection. Her insanely shapely legs were attached to a gorgeous little round ass.

I asked both of analysts to give me what they had. The kid had done the usual timing of the break-ins; that told me nothing. Kelly was a lot subtler. She had correlated the things that were stolen, with the sequence they were stolen in, and factored in location. The finger of fate pointed straight at the Mickey Cobras. THAT was enlightening.

Afterward, I asked Kelly to stay for a second. NO, it wasn't what you're thinking. I love my wife and an energetic young thing like Miss McMahan would probably kill me. I wanted to get a better fix on who she was and what her career plans were.

I said, "Those statistical correlations were an excellent idea. I have a position open as leader of the analytic team. Are you interested?" She looked at me like she was trying to decide what I wanted. I bet she got that a lot. I said, "It's a simple offer. You impressed me. That was very astute. I am trying to get out of the day-to-day analysis operation. You look like the right person to carry the ball. When I see talent, I go with my gut."

She continued to hesitate. I said, "Let's get the cards out on the table. I realize that you are beautiful and frankly I thought that hiring you was a mistake. I was afraid that your looks were all you had." She looked appalled and more than a little pissed.

I hurriedly added, "But I know you now. You are always one step ahead of the other analysts and you are not afraid to express your opinion. I also know you're confident and you are more than a little devious, which I happen to admire. It's an important asset. Smart, tough and larcenous is exactly what I am looking for in a personal associate."

I said, "If I may ask; how old are you?"

She said, "twenty-eight, why?"

I said, "I took over my first team at twenty-seven; two years out of the army. They put me in charge of a bunch of middle aged analysts. I had to prove myself every workday. But, in the long run it made me better." I said pointedly, "You can do the same thing if you're up to the challenge."

~

Frank was in his fifties. He was probably as good as Kelly; at least at the technical details. But he never saw the big-picture, and he was lazy. Of course, he didn't know he was a slacker; none of those guys ever do.

Frank assumed that Kelly was my right-hand because I was fucking her. So, he challenged her on everything. Kelly doesn't take shit from the rest of the world. But, she let Frank talk too much. That concerned me.

I had underestimated Kelly's cunning. It came to a head in early December. She was laying out an engagement strategy. As usual, Frank was second guessing her. Finally, Kelly turned to him and said, "Okay Frank, how would you handle it?" Frank had an approach in mind. It made sense; even to me. He sat back smugly.

I glanced at Kelly and she gave us both a "Really???!!" look. Then she proceeded to point out every hole in Frank's thinking. It was obvious that Kelly had sweated the details and Frank hadn't. He just sat there red-faced. But Kelly was smart. Instead of gloating, she gave the guy back his pride; there wasn't any more backstabbing.

~

Pia was wandering around the bedroom in a black bra and garter belt. I wanted to fuck her, not go to Barton, Barton and Tedesco's annual Christmas bash. Her long raven hair was already up in some fancy do and her makeup was perfect. So, I had to settle for just watching those succulent curves bustling around doing woman things.

I was in a tuxedo. There are guys who are born to be James Bond. I'm not one of them. That's because, I have a 20-inch neck. I was hyper aggressive as a kid. It got me into lots of trouble. I finally found that beating up inanimate objects, like weights, kept me from beating up more animate things, like people. That's how I became a life-long gym rat.

Pia was finally ready. She was in a classic little black dress. She sprayed her musky perfume into secret places; all of which I wanted to investigate. She said flirtatiously, "Ready to go big-boy?"

I said, "I assume that you mean to your party?"

She whacked me and said, "Party, silly. We'll get to THAT afterward."

I could think of no more agonizing situation than being condescended to by a bunch of lawyers. But I love my wife. I said tragically, "That'll give me the inspiration to get through the evening." I got another whack.

Pia's law-firm had rented the Lakeview Terrace, at Navy Pier. Barton, Barton and Tedesco is small. But they were sucking up to their snooty customer base. It was a spectacular venue. From the terrace; you could see out over the lake toward Gary. Of course, nobody in their right mind would be outside doing that. After all, it WAS December in Chicago.

Pia dragged me over to introduce me to the partners. Blake senior and Blake junior looked like two versions of the same rodent; perhaps a hamster? John Tedesco was the Greek God Adonis, tall, slim, aristocratic and clearly smarter than us common folk.

We immediately fell in hate.

I thought he was an arrogant douchebag and I didn't like the smirk he gave me. I knew that he was surprised by all the muscles and the fact that I tried to crush his hand into very fine powder when we shook.

The older Barton twitched his whiskers and said graciously, "I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Pia is one of our most valued employees and it is a pleasure meeting you."

I said politely, "Well it's a pleasure being here. This is very impressive."

Pia said, "Can you get me the usual."

I said, "Certainly," and headed for the bar. Everybody was trying to jam their snout into the trough. It looked like it was going to take forever. Then the manager stepped in to help, and I got to him first. I sneered at the suckers waiting to be served, and headed back to where I had last seen Pia.

The Bartons were the only people there. I said, "Where's Pia?"

The younger Barton said dismissively, "She went someplace with John." He gestured in the general direction of the windows. So, I walked over. Neither were visible. Then I looked out onto the terrace and a couple was standing there kissing like lovers.

It was Tedesco and Pia. He had his hand plastered on both of her superb buns, pulling her hard into his no-doubt raging hard-on. She was on tiptoe, with her boobs squashed into him and one arm around his neck. The other hand was behind his head, holding him in a passionate kiss.

The term, "Can't believe my eyes," is descriptive. It's the disconnect between what you see, and what you know is true. I knew that Pia was my faithful, loving wife. Therefore, what I saw couldn't be happening. It took a second to get my vision and my brain on the same page. "Blinding rage" doesn't begin to describe my reaction.

The lovers broke the kiss. Pia leaned back and stared into Tedesco's eyes. They conversed for a second. Then they went back at it. Their comfortable level of intimacy told me everything. This wasn't a "mistletoe," thing. It was a "voracious-hunger-honed-over-a-long-period-of-time," thing. Oddly enough, I wasn't surprised. It was predictable.

Maybe it's my business. But, I am not a fan of humankind. I believe that everybody is chained to failed psyches and base urges. Unsurprisingly, nobody sees themselves that way. Instead, they manufacture tortured rationales to justify their actions. Pia was the one soul who was immune to my hardboiled cynicism. Now, watching her make out with Tedesco just confirmed what I already knew.