Fear Itself (13 page)

I had been quite nervous about meeting Amber ever since I began my journey west, and as excited as I was at the prospect of finally meeting her I could not begin to imagine breaking the ice with her let alone getting comfortable enough to sleep with her. The buildup of over a year of phone-sex was too much for reality to possibly assimilate to. But with Amber already in my bed, having done what she had done with those tender loving lips (no matter the accompanying dream) I no longer had any apprehensions.

I had wondered, during those many sleepless nights at home and in those cheap motel rooms, how we would broach the delicate transition from fantasy to reality. I wondered how awkward our love-making would be. I wondered if I would be like a clumsy schoolboy and leave my ejaculate dripping down her thigh having never reached the Promised Land as I did with Catherine on our first attempt. As you can imagine, having not been with anyone but Catherine all my life I was a bit concerned. I was worried that I might disappoint her. But my clever Amber had found a way to take us past all that. And there she was in my bed, this Beautiful enchantress of a woman. She appeared before me, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, like a vision of

Venus and I reached out my hands and I cupped the underside of her naked breasts. I felt Amber’s semi-erect nipples grow hard against the tender skin of my palms and my senses tingled in euphoria as I lost my self in the moment, falling backwards, head over heels in my mind, but only as far as the mattress in reality, and I pulled her to me by her breasts until she lay upon my chest and then I wrapped my arms around her back and I pressed her body to my body enjoying the exploratory entanglement of our feet and ankles, thighs and hips. I grew aroused again.

Amber was small and light and her skin was soft and supple as I brushed my fingertips over the firmness of her muscled flesh; her buttocks and waist; the small of her back and the ripple of her spine; the blades of her shoulders and the curves of her arms. She raised herself up and looked down into my eyes and then she collapsed into my lips with a kiss and I swam, with my tongue, in the churning ocean of her mouth and I was transported back to the time to when I had first kissed Catherine, and I got lost in Amber, as I had once done with Catherine so long ago, and I realized that

Amber was my Catherine in a different time and place. I realized that Amber could fill the void that Catherine had left. And I realized too that I wanted, more than anything, to vanquish the pain that Catherine had caused me with her betrayal; and I grew hard.

Without using her hands and without breaking off our kiss Amber found me with her soft fissure and swallowed me with one slow undulating stride. I was reduced to a human probe as with eyes pressed closed I saw her nakedness, with my tongue and with the head of my prick, from the inside out while she devoured me in successive pulses, her hips rhythmically rocking, her pelvis grinding, seeking, finding; that perfect point of sensation; ever-so-slowly tweaking that ecstasy laden g- spot somewhere deep in the flaccidity of her cavern until she could no longer maintain our kiss. Her mouth opened up as she raised her tiny torso and squatted above me, still grinding that sensitive point against me, and emitted a moan of the slightest steadiest pitch so high that she could have broken a wineglass, and she hummed until the sound of her pleasure sent a signal, with her low piercing squeal, to some place in my brain that cut loose my bonds and forced me to release deep inside of her a scorching torrent of liquid that seemed to sap my mind of oxygen and all but the slightest connection with consciousness. I was only vaguely aware of Amber’s little body collapsing against my own, her harbor still a vacuum to my pier, as she cooed my name up into my ear. “Mathew, I think I love you.”

Her words, spoken in the passion of the moment, were warm and comforting, as from a mother to a child; or at least that was their effect on me. I may have been Sarah’s caregiver and her comforter; but in my damaged state of mental disarray I needed an emotional guardian of my own. Amber’s affection was the first real abetment I had known since my last night with Catherine. Her words of affection gave me a sense of peace I had not known in what had seemed like ages.

Her words told me that everything was going to be okay. That she would take care of me, like

Teresa had taken care of Albert.

With Amber’s words still sliding around in my brain I slipped away into a dizzying sleep, the warmth of Amber’s body my only blanket. When I woke in the morning from a dreamless sleep Amber was gone and I wondered at first if
she
had been the dream; and had she not left her dainty pink panties on the pillow next to mine I might have doubted that such a perfect night could have happened outside of a hallucination.

* * *

Melanie was a stripper. She lived like a homemaker but she made her money the old fashioned way, or as close to the old fashioned way as one can without being a prostitute. The beauty of it was that she wasn’t the least bit ashamed of what she did. And why should she have been? She was putting to use the tools god had seen fit to give her, much like Amber had done when she left home at a young age and she too took off her clothes for a living. I’m not saying that I would have wanted Sarah to have grown up to be a stripper just because she had the body for it, but you have to admire a survivor.

Besides being a stripper, Melanie, as it turned out, was also a fantastic cook. After sleeping for so many hours I woke up ravished and Melanie, despite having worked until two- thirty in the morning the night before, made me the most incredible breakfast I had ever eaten. She made a mushroom and cheese omelet that caused me to audible grunt my appreciation, with bacon and hashed-brown potatoes mixed with a delicious concoction of spices and homemade rye bread slathered with butter. And for breakfast-dessert we had sizzling strawberry crepes. Sarah, who normally didn’t like breakfast at all, feasted as though she were at a pastry shop.

And Melanie, dressed in a set of pink cotton flannel pajamas, made the atmosphere so homey. Melanie even let Sarah help prepare my breakfast, something Catherine never had the patience to do. And she made Sarah, who had grown a little self-conscious about her boyish short Auburn haircut, feel every bit the girl both helping in the kitchen and afterwards making her pretty little face up with lipstick and rouge and eyeliner so that she looked as though she were a Beautiful teenage girl instead of the seven year old boy that I had manufactured. Given the dreams I had had of late I wasn’t thrilled about the look but it made

Sarah happy and I certainly didn’t want to insult our hostess.

“Hello
lover
!” I turned around from building a fire in the fireplace just in time to see Sarah bat her eyelashes at me while Melanie stood admiring her work from the hallway threshold.

“Lover?” Melanie
laughed
the word.

I smiled back at Melanie, a little embarrassed, “It’s a private joke…or at least it used to be.” I laughed, “We like to watch old movies together, and she got it from a one of the movies. Anytime she wants to get me to smile, she says ‘hello lover’ and raises her eyebrows and it tickles the hell out of me.”

“Speaking of lover,” Melanie flopped into the room wearing a pair of big pink fuzzy slippers that matched her pajamas, “I have a business proposal for you, if you’re interested.” She tumbled onto the loveseat at the edge of the fireplace. “Sarah honey, why don’t you go put our makeup things away and clean up while I talk to your daddy.”

Sarah hesitated, frowning slightly, unsure of whether she liked being told what to do by her newfound friend, and then she skipped out of the room cheerfully.

“What did you have in mind?” I tossed the last log on top of the growing fire.

“Well…Amber says that your looking for work, and while it’s not a fulltime gig…you would really be helping me out and you could make a few dollars.”

“Doing what…exactly?” “Being my security.”

“Your security? What do you need security for?”

“Amber told you what I do for a living, right?”

“She said you have this tendency to shed your clothing at night…professional werewolf?”

“Exactly!” she smiled, “
Now
you know why I need security. On weekends, usually on nights when there is a full moon,” she rose from her seat and she began to animate her hands, “I go to bachelor parties and other such events and I take off my clothes,” she covered her mouth feigning embarrassment, “and I…grow hair all over my body…” she covered her chest and her crotch with her hands, “and you know, I just feel so defenseless, being a she-wolf an-all! And I need a big strong man,” she squeezed my bicep through my shirt, “to come along with me to collect the money…and all of the silver bullets,” she fired two imaginary six-guns and blew the smoke from the barrels, “from all those bad boys who want to eat me up!” she said this while unbuttoning the top buttons of her pajama-top and revealing a titillating portion of her cleavage. “So what do you say big guy? Wanna help protect a little ole she-wolf?” she asked as she sat down close to me and looked up at me.

I must admit I felt a bit flush from her sexy little routine. She was very good; very provocative, even in flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

“I don’t know that I would make a very good body guard. I’m not really much of a fighter. I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be of much use to you.”

“Amber already told me you’re a lover…does that mean you’re not a fighter?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh, come on; a big strong guy like you?” She pouted her lips, “You probably wouldn’t have to do much of anything. You’d be there more for show than anything. I’ve never had a problem that required a fight.”

I felt the guilt of accepting her generosity without having any real value to offer in return. Reluctantly I opened the door to the possibility, “What would I have to do?”

“You’d be my protection, lover.” She raised her eyebrows, as Sarah had done, as she stood and took my face into her hands, “Oh my god, your blushing…you shy thing.” She smiled a genuine smile, “After all those dirty things you said to Amber I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so shy.” I could see that she was taking great pleasure in my embarrassment.

“She told you huh?”

“I must confess, not only did she tell me…but she was at my house once…and she let me listen in on one of your conversations.

And you do have a sexy voice!” she slapped the back of my hand, “and a dirty mind.”

“What would I have to do exactly?” “Well,” she pulled a small antique looking wooden chair with a plush blue cushion up across from me and sat down across from me, “you’d have to carry a little gun… just in case,” I rolled my eyes, “but I’ve never been to a party where anyone has had to use it…ever!” Her eyes opened wide, “And you’d just have to make sure nobody gets out of hand…no touching unless I let them… and since I won’t have any clothes on…you would have to hold the money.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad.” I could hear the apprehension in my own voice. I had gone from respected investment banker to pimp in a single leap. “How far the mighty have fallen.”

I said dejectedly.

“You get ten percent of the profits. I usually make a couple thousand a night, Friday and Saturday nights when I’m booked solid.” She was trying to figure out the math in her head.

“Two hundred dollars or so a night?” “Yeah.”

“What happened to your last body guard?”

“He’s in jail.”

“What for?” I said, not a little alarmed. “Nothing to do with me.” She laughed,

“He sold drugs on the side. He did security for me because he was able to move a lot of coke at the parties. But he got busted and he’s going to be gone for at least five years. Anyway, it had nothing to do with my security.”

“What about Sarah? Who would watch her?”

“I’ll get her a sitter.” “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s cool…” her expression went from happy back to pleading, “only I need to know soon because I have three parties booked for tonight.” She whined.

“Can I have ten minutes?”

“Sure…ten minutes…oh yeah…and there is a perk that goes with the job.” She waited until I raised my eyebrows expectantly, “You get to drive my Monte Carlo…and…you get to see me naked.” She gave me a seductive look before breaking into a giggle.

“But you’ll be all hairy!”

“Just a little patch right her.” She said matter-of-factly as she lowered her pajama bottoms just enough to show me a postage- stamp sized swath of pubic hair at the top of her mound. I felt my face blush bright red once again. I was no a prude but I was easily embarrassed.

* * *

As I drove Melanie to the first of three bachelor parties I fidgeted nervously moving my hand about the steering wheel and changing the radio station. My new job made me nervous. When I was a boy it was my father who gave me my
first
job. He didn’t so much give it to me as force it upon me. He was an electrician and I was made to accompany him on his weekend side-jobs to do the odd things such as retrieve tools and to pull the plastic covered wire through the holes he had drilled. I hated that job, mostly because he forced me to do it and because I had to spend time with him (he was an abusive unrepentant alcoholic and he never let pass an opportunity to remind me of how worthless I was). At that moment I wished I were back with my father pulling wire.

The only real physical encounter I had ever been involved in, play-fighting aside, had been my fight with Tony Artino and I had never actually landed a single blow. I had never fired a pistol, or any other sort of firearm for that matter, in my life. Melanie sat in the back seat of her Monte Carlo applying last minute touches to her makeup. She chattered on incoherently about a blue dress that she saw in a storefront window and about clothes and about Amber, but I was too nervous and distracted to pay attention so I just nodded and sounded off the occasional “hmmm” to feign interest. It was getting dark outside, which made me a little uncomfortable, but I knew that Melanie would be at my side the whole time so I knew that my phobia would not be an issue. If she only knew that she had chosen someone who was afraid of the dark to be her body guard I don’t think she would have been so chatty!