Charlie stumbled out of Pete’s at 1:00am in the company of a giggling, pert twenty something. He didn’t care for her name too much-Stacy or Emily-just that her tits looked mouthwateringly delicious jiggling in that sheer tank top. He could nearly make out the black ink of a tattoo running along her pale collarbone.
Together
they went ambling down the alleyway just behind Pete’s, the girl clinging to his neck with her beer-dipped tongue.
“Let’s
go back to my place,” he said, his words a drunken jumble.
“No,
mine!” said the girl and pouted her childish features as he half-carried her
the rest of the way to his car.
“Mine!”
insisted Charlie. “I’ve got a Jacuzzi….”
“But I
don’t have a swimsuit,” she stuttered as Charlie fumbled with the car keys. “Or
am I wearing it?” He jabbed a finger onto the button, wrenched open the door,
and threw her into the passenger’s seat. She stared up at him and he didn’t
mind her face was drenched in mascara or she was perhaps thirty pounds heavier
than when he last looked at her.
Her tits
still looked great.
He ended
up dropping the car keys near the pedals and groped blindly in the darkness.
“Hey!”
Charlie
raised his hands innocently, as though running a hand up the girl’s bare legs
was an accident and certainly not intentional. But her grin and the way she
waggled her tongue at him told him she knew anyway. He finally pushed the keys
into the ignition and raised his head.
“Christ,
Vivian!”
His wife
stood in front of the car, arms on her narrow hips and her features cast in
darkness. His date glanced at him, then back at the looming spectre blocking
their path.
“Big
surprise, Charlie. You’re cheating on me. Again. What was it this time? Those
huge tits, Charlie, or how she seems to never miss a Goddamn meal?”
“Vivian…can
we talk about this some other time?” snapped Charlie, his hands gripping the
steering wheel tightly. He really ignored his date’s probing eyes and how any
sense of sensuality between the two faded away.
“Hell
no, Charlie. You remember our Goddamn vows. ‘Till death do us part’ and all
that shit.”
“Yes
Vivian! Until death do us part! Death parted us, for Christ’s sake! I’m free
and you should be six fucking feet under!”
“Excuse
me, but what is going on here?” asked the girl and for a moment her eyes
glanced at the door handle. Charlie swore, placed a comforting hand on her
thigh, and shook his head. “I’ve dated a married man before and it wasn’t fun
when the wife found out.”
“Don’t
worry, pumpkin. This, this is just a
misunderstanding,” stammered Charlie. He leaned forward, shared a sloppy kiss
with the woman. “You know, drunks and druggies.”
“Pumpkin?! Oh, shit fatty, you’d better
watch out. He called me pumpkin
plenty of times when he came home after fucking that little whore in his
office!”
Charlie
groaned and pressed the accelerator. Hard.
Vivian
rolled up and over the hood, flipping into the air with a series of curses and
a spray of blood on the windshield. He watched her flop onto the cement in the
rearview mirror, then pop back up and shake what remained of a broken wrist at
him.
He
turned to Stacy. Or Emily.
“Don’t
worry, she’ll be fine. Isn’t the first time I’ve ran her over. Won’t be the
last. She regenerates pretty quickly.”
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