R/T/M (19 page)

     I let her legs down and I pull out of her and I kneel in front if her and I watch my cum start to dribble out of her and I realize that I fucked up.   There’s no way she’s gonna let this slide.

     Maybe she won’t call the cops or press charges, but I came inside her, and what if she gets pregnant?   And either way there’s going to be this chick out there that’s going to be pissed off at me for the rest of her life.

     I get up and go to the bathroom and take a piss and splash my face with some cool water and look at myself in the mirror.   I’m looking to see if I look like I’m guilty.   I realize that’s just retarded and I crack a wry grin at my reflection.   I don’t feel guilty.   I feel great.   I know what I have to do, but I might as well get my use out of her first.

     I come back into the room and she’s still on her back on the bed.   She’s not even looking around and she looks kind of dazed.   I guess she’s just waiting for it to be over.   Waiting for me to cut her loose and try to apologize and offer her one of my shirts and some sweatpants and offer to take her home and drop her off so she can take a shower and cry.   She’s got another thing coming.

     I pick up the shredded remains of her sweater on the way back to the bed.   I wipe all of the goo off of the outside of her cunt with the rag and then throw it on the floor.   It’s great to have wh
at I’ve wanted for so long.   I wish she wasn’t all bound up but it can’t be helped now.   I run my hands allover her body and I can feel how smooth and warm it is and I start to get hard again.   I squeeze her breasts with my hands and lick and suck the nipples.   I’m not trying to get her turned on, it’s just something I want to do.   I lie on my side next to her and reach in between her legs and open her outer lips with my fingertips.   I slide a couple fingers into her and it’s easy because she’s still a bit glisteningly damp.   I get the third finger in and she shifts a little uncomfortable and I wedge the fourth finger in and she winces and huffs through her nose.   I try to get my whole hand in there like she’s a fucking Yoda puppet and it’s just not happening.

     I sit up and grab her left leg and roll her over and she rolls over without a fight, probably figuring that when I’m done with her I’ll be done with her.   I get up and grab a necktie
from my closet and come back to the bed.   I loosely drape it around her neck and I can tell she’s kind of holding her breath to where this is going.   I straddle her, sitting on the back of her thighs and I stuff my cock between her legs and rub it against just inside her pussy until it gets nice and slick then I slide it up to her asshole and I put the tip of the head in the center of her ass and push my dick inside her.   This also feels great and I love the way her soft ass feels against my lower abdomen.   I fuck her asshole slowly for, like, an hour because I’m not in any rush because I just blew a load and I figure this is the last fun I’m going to have with her.

     When my balls start to feel tight and I fell like I’m going to cum I pull the tie tight and yank her neck back.   She starts struggling, but she’s pretty exhausted after all of the bullshit she’s been through.   She’s wriggling around and it feels great and I’m pulsing inside her and her asshole is clenching and she’s puffing out her nose.

     After the last pulse I hold her reigned back for a few seconds for good measure.

     My balls feel warm and wet and when I look down I realize that her bladder let go and there’s a puddle of piss soaking into the mattress.   I yell, “Fuck!” and let go of the ends of the tie and the top of her torso boofs into the pillows.   I go over to the bathroom and wash my genitals off in the sink and then splash some water on my face.   My face is
still not the face of a guilty man.

     I go back into the room and she hasn’t moved.   I casually put my clothes on and I think things out.

     There’s an old septic tank in the backyard.   It’s a cement bottle around eight feet deep and six feet wide.   The top of it is covered with, like, a mini-manhole cover.   It’s pretty nearly flush to the ground, but sticks up just enough to be a nuisance if you wanted to cut the grass.   Whenever I mowed the lawn I had to go around it and it broke up the nice smooth lines and that always kind of pissed me off.

     The house isn’t connected to that tank a
nymore.   The pipes probably got choked off by roots or rusted closed or whatever.

     There’s a newer septic tank made out of PVC piping and whatever, and all you can see of that one is, like, a PVC pipe sticking out of the concrete at the back of the house.   Probably for pumping or whatever, but I’ve never had any problems with it.

     Okay.   So there’s that.

     There’s a door in the wall of the basement and it opens up to the bulkhead and the bulkhead
opens up to the backyard so it’s a pretty straight shot.

     I open up the door and open the bulkhead from the inside.   The night outside is still and dark and I can hear crickets chirping all around.

     I go over to the bed and grab her by the ankles.   I think about just picking her up an my arms and carrying her, but I don’t want to get pee on my clothes, and god forbid she snaps back to life, I’d have a fucking stroke!

     I drag her across the floor on her back to the bottom of the stairs of the bulkhead.   I walk her up the stairs, l
ike you move an extended ladder, rocking side to side while stepping backwards.   Outside, in the dark, her chest and face are dragging in the dirt.   I get her to near the lid of the old septic tank and I realize that I’ve never opened it up before.   I leave her there and the light from the bulkhead is spilling out into the dark and I think, “Oh fuck.   Mosquitoes are gonna get in.” while I go around to the side of the house to where my car is parked.

     I unlock the trunk and fish out the crowbar for the hubcaps and heft it in my right hand and close the trunk lid with my left.

     I walk back over to her and the lid and I pop the lid.   It gives pretty easy and with a little grunt I get it over to the side.

     I look down into the hole and all I see is darkness.

     I flip her over and she looks all scuffed up and dirty but even then under the fingernail paring of a moon’s light she still looks pretty.   It’s a shame she’s dead.   We could have had some fun, but I’m not into corpses.   That’s just icky.

     Shit?   Piss?   Dead bodies?   No thanks.   I’m all set.

     I grab her under her arms and I slide her body over so her head is in the hole and it tilts back into the darkness with her shoulders on the edge.   It would have made a great picture.

     I straddle her over the torso in front of the opening and kind of feed her into the hole.   First her shoulders slide in and her arms slump in and down, then her back arches and her but
t catches on the rim and one last push and her butt clears the edge and in she goes with her legs wagging like a fish tail.   She hits the bottom like a pile of laundry landing on a pile of leaves.

     I stand up and catch my breath, then look down at the black opening and then up at the moon and then I put the lid back on and take the crowbar with me and go back in the bulkhead closing it behind me.

     Back in the basement I look around and realize that I’ve got some more shit I have to get rid of so I gather up all of her things and I put them all in a shopping bag and that finished I stop and wipe my brow and I’m startled to realize that my hands smell like her.   That was surreal.

     I decide not to go back through the bulkhead and instead to go out the side door.

     I pop the lid again and for a split second I expect her to leap out at me like a tiger through a fucking hoop but that’s just stupid.   She’s fucking dead and the tank is eight feet deep.   I hold the bag over the hole and drop it.   Swoosh!   Nothing but net.   I can’t tell if the bag hits her when it lands.   I think, “Insult to injury.”, and chuckle to myself while putting the lid back on.

     Back inside I get naked and take a shower.

     I go to lay down and get some sleep and I remember the piss on the mattress.

     I strip off the sheet and spray the mattress with disinfectant and figure that ought to do it and flip it over and don’t bother putting on another sheet.   The pil
lows smell like her hair and it’s a little weird and in some small way makes me miss her.   I think about what I did.   Not that I feel sorry, but I think about the effects.   Will her parents call her in missing?   Will they trace her to me?   Will the cops come by?   Will they know I’m guilty?   Will they search the house?   Will they find her in the septic tank?   I make a conscious decision to stop letting my imagination get away with me.   What’s done is done and there’s no going back.   I would have rather not have killed her, but that’s what happened and chasing myself in circles isn’t going to help anything.   I had a long night, I fell asleep.

     I dreamed that I was asleep and she called my name and I woke up and she’s standing at the end of my bed and she’s all pale and scuffed up and she looks pissed and I’m scared and
I feel like I’m suffocating, then I woke up for real and I whipped around to look at the end of my bed and she’s not there and I said, “Whew!”.   Maybe it was guilt.    Maybe it was her ghost.   Either way I went back to sleep and slept till morning.

     The next day at work I kept expecting a couple of cops to show up in the doorway of my office.   Like in TV.   “You have the right to remain silent…”.   “Hey!   Officers!   What’s this about?”.  
They slap the cuffs on my wrists, “Anything you say may be used in court against you.   You have the right to an attorney…”.   But they didn’t show up and I just did my work, killing time until they did.

     Each night after work I’d go home and read a book and I expected the cops to come pounding on my door but they didn’t.   Not even a phone call.

     After about a week I kind of shrugged and said fuck it.   If they’re not all over me already then I’m probably scot free.   I figure it’s not worth wasting time over and I decide to go out and get a drink.

     I go to the Mexican restaurant that my friend and I used to go to and it’s weird to be there without her, but it’s refreshing like there’s a weight off of my shoulders.

    I get seated and “cowgirl” was my waitress.   Life was fucking good.

     She comes over to take my order and she smiles and asks, “Where’s your lady friend at?”.

     I smile and shrug and say, “How the hell should I know?   I’m not the boss of her.”.

     I order a Corona Light and the chicken enchiladas and when she drops off the beer I smile and say, “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” and I give her a smile and she smile back and I think I’m hot shit.   I poke the lime wedged into the bottle and put my thumb over the mouth and tip it upside down so the lime rises to the top and then flip it rightside up and the air puffs out with a little spray like it always does and I drink half the beer in one breath.   Life was fucking good.

     Cowgirl comes back with the food and I tip the empty beer bottle towards he and she asks, “Another?” and I reply, “You set ‘em up and I’ll knock ‘em back.” and she laughs and rolls her eyes and takes the bottle and comes back with a fresh one.   She turns to leave and I say, “Hey!   Wait a minute!   We never had the chance to talk.
   What do you do when you’re not flinging fajitas.”

     She laughs and smiles and says, “I don’t know.”

     I ask, “What do you mean you don’t know?” and she’s standing there with her hands in her pockets and twisting one toe.   Fucking casebook.   I got her hooked.

    
I say, “Tell you what.   When this place slows down let’s go out and have a couple drinks.”

     She says, “Um.   I don’t get off until after closing time.”

     I say, “So what?   You’re not allowed to drink after closing time?

     She says, “I gotta go.” and I say, “So?   Go!” and take a swig of beer and smile and raise an eyebrow.

     I eat my food and it tastes great and I have another beer and it tastes great and I get my check and I tip cowgirl $20 and mover over to the bar and the bartender is a fucking hoot, and we’re trying to one-up each other with bad taste jokes about battered women and dead babies and minorities and I’m only paying for every other beer and I’m ignoring cowgirl because I don’t want to give her the creeps, and it gets to be last call and it’s a few couples, and a bunch of rugby dudes and the staff and me and the couples all take off and the rugby dudes are all friends with the staff so it’s the staff and me and the rugby dudes and it was a good night for the restaurant so the bartender makes a big fucking pitcher of margaritas and we all split it and I’m all slurry and messy drunk and cowgirl sits on the barstool next to me and she’s all drunk too because she’s been sneaking drinks all night.   Not like she’s really been sneaking them because the bartender set them up for her.   It’s just that kind of place.   The line cooks would take breaks and go out and burn a j and cook stoned and the waitstaff would all do tequila slammers every other trip to the bar and everyone was having a good time.

     We burn through three pitchers of margaritas and the bartender says he ain’t making any more and starts good-naturedly telling people to go home
, you assholes, and I know the night can’t last forever.   So I grab my coat and I think I said, “A good evening to you.” to cowgirl and kissed her on the cheek and I drunk walk over to my car and I blearily get the keys into the lock and I drive home on autopilot and when I get home I realize I don’t even remember the drive home and I stagger into the house and plop down on the bed and everything feels warm and fuzzy and I forget all about the septic tank and what’s inside and I fall asleep smiling contentedly.