Forever Yours

Forever Yours



Sandy was lounging comfortably in the bathroom doorway. Her profile was absolute perfection. Glossy blond hair fell in curls around her shoulders and framed an oval face. The lips were pouty and promised seduction and the green eyes, mischievous and frank. Her long legs were tanned and strong enough to hold any man. She was barefoot with red painted nails. The right foot tapped a steady rhythm on the tile.

“I never could resist a guy with a clean dick.”

Bill dropped the towel and Sandy dropped to her knees. Afterwards, he stared at himself in the mirror. A sad, defeated old man stared back. The eyes were baggy and his face had more lines than a road map. He was tired and couldn’t do it anymore. In fact, wouldn’t, no matter the cost.

Sandy was on the couch with her legs drawn up under her. She idly thumbed through a magazine. Bill went into the kitchen and poured Bourbon over ice for himself, a ginger ale for the girl. Grabbing a bag of pretzels, he walked into the living room.

“We need to talk,” he handed Sandy her drink and the pretzels.

The bag crunched loudly as her nimble fingers worked it open. With judicious deliberation, she inspected the contents and selected three pretzels. That was so like her, precise one moment, wanton and careless the next.

“I just love salt, don’t you?” She smiled. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us. This…thing we have. We need to stop. Now.”

“Did you know that you get this deep line between your eyes when you frown?” Sandy asked and crunched a pretzel with strong white teeth.

“I’m serious, Sandy.”

“You’re just feeling guilty again. Why ruin a good thing?”

Bill stared at her. “You’re sixteen! They put people in jail for what I’m doing. Look, you’re my next door neighbor and I watched you grow up. I had no right to violate your trust. I’m sorry.”

“As I recall, I started it.”

She was right and only fifteen at the time. With the wife away for the weekend, Bill grilled a huge t-bone and washed it down with a lot of booze. Later, he wobbled to the couch and turned on the ballgame. Sandy came calling to return a tea jug and stayed to chat. Bill lay there, listening and trying to stay awake. When he opened his eyes, she was kneeling on the carpet with a hand up his shorts. Shocked, he reached for her hand and she deftly guided it to her pert young breast. He hadn’t been the same, since.

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” Bill said. “I’m the adult here and should know better. Sex wasn’t meant to be a casual activity. It’s an intimate form of communication between couples in a committed relationship.”

“Now you sound like my Father.”

Bill had no response to that. The room went quiet. The mantle clock ticked a steady, ominous sound. He sipped his drink and wondered what time his wife would be home. He wondered if Sandy’s parents knew where she was and wondered if she would accept the ultimatum and walk away. He didn’t think so.

“Have you found someone else? Another virgin, younger and prettier than me?”

“Sandy…please, don’t do this. I’m still going to buy you a Corvette for graduation like I promised. I’ve also decided to open a checking account for you and put five thousand in it.”

“Five thousand? Aren’t you the generous one,” she sat her glass on the table, much harder than necessary. “I’ve got a better idea. Open the account and every month, deposit a thousand dollars. I mean, I would hate to tell the policeman how the big mean man pulled down my panties.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you took my virginity and now, I’m forever yours. I might as well get something out of it.”

Bill looked at her. Even as a child, she never could stand to lose. He remembered how she would throw tantrums and hold her breath. A heavenly vexation, that’s what her Dad would call her. She still was, too. Early in the affair, Bill imagined cleaning out the bank account and taking Sandy to Mexico. She had laughed, thinking it a joke. He realized then that he was the joke. That he was a pitiful excuse for a man, too weak to stop himself, her or anything.

“Now I’ve made you sad,” Sandy pouted. “I know you have plenty of money. Just consider it a business expense.”

Bill said nothing.

“I know! Let me tell you about my last date with Brian. He likes it doggie style, like you. Then, we can play some more.”

For Bill, the story was familiar and easy to imagine. On all fours, Sandy was feral with a carnal hunger like nothing he had ever known. Her nostrils would flare as she panted. His nails could raise goose bumps on her flesh. When he reached in to grasp the hardened nipples, she would gasp and back into him. She gave all of herself and took everything in return. Always had, always would.

Bill raised his eyes and looked at the clock. “Maybe later. Why don’t I fix us a fresh drink? Would you like a splash of liquor this time?”

Sandy was always radiant when she smiled. “That would be great.”

Bill trudged to the kitchen and stared at the counter top. He thought of a local construction site and the deep holes, gouged out of the earth. By seven in the morning, huge trucks would begin filling them with tons of concrete, laying foundations. He hesitated and pulled a packet from his pocket. It contained four sleeping pills, ground to a fine powder. Glancing over his shoulder, he reached for a clean glass.