Prey (3 page)

They sighed in
unison. The sound lingered in the room for long, indeterminable
seconds.

Using the rest
of his hand, he slid the hem of the young woman's top higher. His
remaining fingers and palm hugged at the revealed flesh of her
tummy.

Susan drew up
one arm from her side and reached it across the broad, strong back
of the man who would be her lover for the night. Her small fingers
prodded and poked through his dark grey shirt and savoured in the
tense terrain of muscle they found. She kissed back harder, her
shoes digging into the carpet below and one heel catching in the
plush texture. It loosened from her bare foot and she slid the
smooth flesh of her sole across its side. The new sensitivity
sparked a muffled gasp from her throat.

Simon pulled
back a little. He teased her lips with the tip of his tongue and
leaned back every time she swam her head forward to continue the
kiss. His fingers worked higher and found the front strap of her
bra, stroking it from one cup to the other.

The prostitute
slid her eyelids open and chased his mouth, her lips parted in
anticipation and her tongue lying in waiting on the edge of her
bottom lip. Her sex tingled behind her clothing.

A sly smile
snaking across his lips, the older man sneaked his other hand down
over his hips and rubbed the palm over his erection. It surged
behind his trousers and the outline grew thicker and more
pronounced. A sigh erupted from his throat and the warm air
embraced his lover's fragile neck. His eyelids hung down, lazy,
revealing just a slit of white behind them.

The tingle
between Susan's legs moistened and she pressed her knees hard
together, one thigh twitching against the other as she flexed the
muscles closest to where she needed the contact most.

With one
extended finger, Simon traced a path along the hem of the younger
woman's bra, along the bottom of one cup, around its side and down
the slope which held her cleavage in place. He continued back to
where he began, before doing the same on the other side. His teeth
clamped down on the fleshy pad of his bottom lip, trapping it in
place, as his rapid breathing grunted through his bite.

In one fluid
motion, Susan swung her hips and threw one leg across his thighs.
She pushed her bodyweight up with one elbow and slid her torso
over, on top of his. Her breathing came in short, needful spurts.
She pushed her pelvis down and gasped aloud as the rigid lump of
his erection nestled against her pubis.

Simon closed
his eyes and wrapped his overbearing arms around the petite
prostitute's back and up to the back of her neck, pulling her close
to kiss her face in a frenzy. His lips ran over her cheek and found
the liquescent gap between hers. His tongue swirled and swooped
around the flesh on the inside of her cheeks, before flirting with
the writhing tip of its counterpart and teasing along its
length.

She ground her
groin harder, faster. Her moans and groans mingled in the wet kiss.
She groped both hands through the air and raced them to the buttons
on the front of Simon's shirt. Her fingers tore at them and pulled
the material apart to reveal a bare chest. She worked her digits
inside and twirled them in the sparse hair they found. The
sensation within her sex intensified, her lack of panties forcing
the coarse material of her leggings to bunch up and stimulate her
wanton clitoris.

He prodded his
hands down and forced them into her armpits. Using his immense
strength, the punter lifted the vulnerable form of his paid-for
date off his lap and sat her beside him.

Susan locked
up. Her eyes searched his for an explanation. Her lustful breath
raged in her throat.

“
Let's go upstairs.” His smile returned as he pushed himself up
off the sofa and led the way.

She kicked off
her other shoe and leaned down to pick them both up. Her bare feet
sank into the soft comfort of the carpet for a few steps, before
she paused, looked back and raced back to pick up her coat. She
patted the hard object inside one pocket and followed the owner of
the house upstairs.

The middle aged
man scuttled along the hall on the second floor of the house. He
stopped at a closed door at the end of the corridor, wrapping his
fingers around its handle and lowering the brass appendage to cross
the threshold of the main bedroom. He flicked a switch, once
inside, and saturated the sleeping quarters with light.

Susan stepped
inside, scanning the room and its contents. She crossed to a
bedside table on the left side of the bed and turned to face her
host. “Is it OK if I take this side?”, she asked, pointing to her
chosen spot. She changed the grip on the coat, pinching its collar
between her thumb and forefinger and hovering it over the piece of
furniture. The grip of her other hand released and her shoes fell
to the floor with muffled thuds.

Simon stood at
the bottom of the bed, removing a thick banded watch from his
wrist. “Yeah, that's fine honey.” He threw the timepiece on top of
a chest of drawers, the light glinting off a mirror and twinkling
on the silver strap. “I'm just going to shower. Make yourself at
home.” He reached up to a portable TV, braced on a wall unit and
switched it on. “I won't be long.”

The young woman
placed her coat down with care. She hopped up on the side of the
king-sized bed and her gaze lowered to her feet which dangled at
least six inches from the floor. The pink varnish on her toenails
contrasted the pale grey carpet beneath. She reached back her palms
onto the surface of the deep, solid mattress and arched her back,
letting her head roll back until her eyes lined up with the
ceiling. They closed and a contented sigh soothed from her
lips.

A low, liquid
hiss meandered in from the room next door, and a muffled clunk
chimed out, like a shower door closing.

Susan wrestled
her body up until her back edged against the headboard, her legs
stretching out along the length of the bed and sinking into the top
of the cream coloured duvet. She scanned the room one more time and
nibbled at the back of one lip. Leaning to one side, she reached
inside the coat pocket and retrieved the knife. The blade shone
bright, its edge reflecting the light from the bulb above in
shards. She gazed along the metallic sheen and the her knuckles
turned white as her grip tightened around the handle.

The shower
continued to hiss through the adjoining wall.

Susan swerved her hips and pulled up the pillow under her
head. She searched the revealed space and hovered the weapon in
mid-air.
Perfect.
With eased and accurate movement, she turned and sneaked the
blade of the knife into the narrow space between the mattress and
headboard. She replaced the pillow and inched closer to the middle
of the bed. Her eyes glanced back and appraised the
handiwork.
Perfect
.

The hissing
shut off, accompanied with a loud clank in an unseen pipe,
somewhere nearby.

Susan relaxed
into the bedding and allowed herself to view the silent images on
the TV screen. She sighed through relaxed lips and they vibrated
against each other, as a well dressed reporter interviewed
Manchester United fans outside their football ground.

Along the bottom of the picture, in bold font, the gist of the
story unfolded.
Takeover bid collapses
amid prolonged injury woes. Live at Old
Trafford.
Various members of the public
dressed in red replica shirts gave their opinions under the night
sky.

Susan shook her
head and turned to face the door. Waiting.

Footsteps in
the hallway approached the doorway to the main bedroom before their
owner padded inside. He fidgeted with the wrists of his dressing
gown and smiled towards the occupant of his bed. The tip of his
tongue writhed around the white gleam of his teeth.

A strong waft
of minty toothpaste refreshed Susan's senses. She gorged the sweet
air in through her nasal passages and licked her lips. “I need... “
She stalled. Her lids blinked as if cleaning off the previous
attempt, and she spoke again. “Do you mind if I shower? I'm... “
Her words drifted off, before returning with focus. “I'm soaked
through.” She offered her best attempt at a smile.

“
Yeah, of course. The water's still hot.” The older man crossed
to the edge of the chest of drawers and lifted a towel from the
side. He dried his hair, still facing his guest. “Sorry, I don't
have any girlie shampoos or anything like that. But you're welcome
to use anything you find.” His features twitched an apologetic
smile.

“
Thanks.” Her smile stretched into her cheeks and she
straightened it out with unnatural abruptness. She pushed herself
down off the bed and plodded out through the hallway to the
bathroom.

She closed the
bathroom door behind her and rushed the lock into place. Her toes
squirmed against the chill of the linoleum floor and she hopped
from foot to foot. The shower door lay open, its glass panel still
steamed from prior use. She stretched one arm through the opening
and pressed the biggest button on the panel.

The water
erupted from the many perforations in the shower-head and
splattered against the porcelain floor, hissing in her ears like an
infuriated librarian shushing a disrespecting school child. She
turned back toward the sink.

The freezing
cold water from the tap stabbed at her small hands as she scooped
it up to her lips and drank like a deer by the river. She guzzled
for long moments, stopping just to take a breath, every so often.
Her body signalled satiation with an audible burp which rose above
the splashing of the shower. The event forced half a chuckle from
the young woman, as she twisted the tap until the flow stopped. She
returned to the shower.

Pressing the
bare sole of one foot to the floor of the shower, Susan winced a
little, a shiver travailing the length of her spine and releasing
from her body from between her chattering teeth. She pulled her
sweatshirt over her head and peeled her leggings down over her
thighs, knees and ankles. Her bra unclasped between her expert
fingers and unwrapped from her shoulders and chest. She discarded
the clothing in a pile behind the door. Her stare rested on the
entrance a little too long. Peeling her gaze from the handle, she
turned away. Her lids blinked and she tiptoed into the soothing
spray of hot water.

The shower did
its job, leaving the young woman with a renewed vibrance to her
skin, as she stepped through the rickety doorway and dabbed a large
towel over her face and neck. She set about drying the rest of her
body and her eyes slumbered behind lazy lids at the comfort of the
luxurious embrace of the soft material as it wrapped around her
flesh. She walked back to the sink while drying along the length of
her hair.

Her eyes
spotted the white cabinet on the wall and she pulled at the handle
with one hand to peer inside. She plucked a tube of toothpaste from
a shelf and untwisted the cap. Her fingers lingered over one of the
bright coloured brushes, deciding against it at the last second.
She squeezed at the receptacle and raised the minty contents to her
lips, allowing it to squirm onto her tongue in a thick blob.

Her tastebuds
exploded and sent a tightening shock wave through the muscles in
her face. She swished and swirled the goo around her mouth, before
cupping water in her palms and cleansing with a round of raucous
gargles and spits into the basin.

A resounding
rattle rumbled through the room.

Susan jolted as
a gasp racked her upper body. She turned on a sixpence, her eyes
threatening to explode from their sockets. Her bottom lip quivered,
a white glob of toothpaste still clinging to the skin. She locked
her vision on the door just as it stopped shaking. She refused to
blink.

“
Is everything OK in there?”

Her shoulders
dropped and the momentum almost carried through her legs. She
reached out a hand and clasped to the first thing she found. Her
knuckles glared almost the same colour as the porcelain they
gripped, as she struggled to keep her standing. She mouthed silent
expletives between long, desperate breaths, as she fought back the
machine gun behind her ribs. Her eyes watered, and she blinked
hard.

He wrapped on
the door again. “Hello?”

The young woman
did her best to wrap the towel around, under her armpits, with
trembling hands. She focused on the door and spluttered out her
words. “Almost done. Sorry. Be a few minutes.” Her lungs continued
to suck in oxygen in an attempt to feed her recovering heart. She
released her vice-like clamp on the porcelain and flexed her digits
to shoo the pounding of her blood in the joints.

“
OK sweetheart.” His footsteps backed away from the room and
dissipated.

Taking a few
moments to allow her breathing to return to almost normal, Susan
cupped more water onto her face and closed her eyes.

She dabbed with
the edge of the towel she wore, and let the damp corner fall back
around her shins. Her gaze happened upon the pile of clothes behind
the door and she picked them up before unfastening the lock and
opened the way to the hall.

The prostitute
padded over the carpet, the sleeves of her sweatshirt dangling
against her body, from the pile. She approached the bedroom with
the merest hint of a smile across her lips.

A blood
curdling scream echoed through the entire house.

Susan shot out
both hands to clamp around the door frame, her knees wobbling like
spoiled jelly. Her lips stretched beyond capacity. They threatened
to split at the corners. She sucked in a short burst of air and
screamed again. Her eyes dared not blink. The pupils locked on the
obscenity before her.