her.
Was I?
The rain finally came, again. It always did. I sat on the couch watching the Saints game when there was a knock on my door.
It was her.
“How did you find me? What are you doing here?” I said.
Soaking wet, she said, “I need you. I need you inside of me.”
I let her into my home, and into my heart, and into my bed.
I didn’t know what was happening to me. I was a man possessed. My hand went under her panties and fingered her softly.
“No,” she said, “My turn.” She led me into my bedroom, gently put me on my own bed, and pulled out a tie from my closet and tied me to the bedpost. What is she doing, I thought, am I going to die? If I’m going to die tonight, I’ll die happy. I have her.
She was a jezebel. I was afraid, but I was turned on. She mounted me and I was inside of her before I knew it. I had never been harder. It was like no time had passed. It was like her soul, and my soul, were always going to be connected. Who was she? Where did she come from, how did she find me? I didn’t care; my cock and her pussy were in charge, her pussy, her sweet tight pussy, was leading me.
She pushed her loving vagina around my cock, in and out, back and forth, oh my God, what was happening to me? The sweat drops fell, and rose up. Fell all around us.
And I was just about to come deep inside of her when I noticed the man in the doorway.
“Get off my wife,” he said.
She jumped off and hid behind me, and I said, “Who the fuck are you, get the hell out of my house!”
“I’m gonna kill you, “ he said. He held a gun in his hand, gripping it as tight as a snare drum.
“If you want money, the sky is purple.”
Someone a lot wiser than me once told me; always confuse crazy people who are threatening you by speaking their language.
“What?” he said.
“The bedside table, goblins live forever.”
“You’re fucking my wife. I don’t want your money.”
I got out of bed and down on my knees, “Please sir, please,” I held my hands out.
“She’s my wife!” He pointed the gun at me.
“What are you doing here?” Nicole said, “We’re done, you will never have me again. You have to leave me alone. I don’t want you anymore, I want nothing to do with you, get out of here!”
Indeed, this man knew I was fucking his wife.
But he did not know that I had a gun under the bed, a .45 that I had named Erica, after me, of course.
While he was distracted by Nicole, I pulled Erica out and shot him in the chest. He fell back, dropping his gun to the ground. I got up, and put my knee over his chest. He screamed in pain and yelled, “Fuck you, mother fucker! You’re gonna die!”
I held my gun over him and said nothing as Nicole called the police.
The cops showed up with an ambulance and hauled him away. Unfortunately, he would live, for now.
Detective John Flair, the lead cop on the case, interviewed us. We told him what had happened as best we could. Before he left, he asked us how we knew each other.
“We don’t, really,” I said, looking at her, “I don’t know her at all.” Nicole’s eyes gave me all of the regret I’d ever need. She knew she had screwed up.
“So you’re married,” I said after the cops had left, “I didn’t sign up for this, Nicole.”
“I’m so sorry, Eric. We are divorced. He’s obsessed with me. I am terrified of him. I am so sorry.”
I was still reeling from the fact that as they dragged him away, he screamed, “I am going to kill you both! Either she is with me, or no one.”
I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with her.
I pulled her to my arms and said, “Nicole, I will protect you. I will love you and protect you. I know you are the one for me. I will always protect you. I will never let anything happen to you. You must believe in me and trust me.”
She grabbed my head, softly and gently, and kissed me, “I love you. I don’t know what we’re doing, but I know that I love you. I know that I love you and I know that I