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.
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.
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.”