Stalker II

(Continued from last post)

(Adult content below)

“No, you did. You did. You accused me of being a gold-digger and then you accused me of being what was it? A whore?” says Lacey.

“And yet here I am holding you.” he says.

“Well…I’m just confused.” says Lacey.

“Why?” he asks.

“You seemed to be having some moral dilemma.” says Lacey.

He draws her in close.

“Well?” she says.

“I want you.” he says.

“What in the world does that have to do with what we were talking about?” asks Lacey.

“Well…nothing, I suppose.” he says. He thinks. “God..I did seem suspicious, didn’t I?”

“You don’t think that might hurt? If I actually could truly love you? It’s Hell.” says Lacey, looking at him in the eyes.

He strokes her back. Closes his eyes. Breaths quickly. Then calms himself, almost.

“Well? What gives?” asks Lacey.

He kisses her.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin by Frank Sinatra from Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! plays.

He stops and pauses and laughs. Looks down.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

He looks serious. Waits for her to get up. She doesn’t. He smiles.

“I’m sorry. I was…” he looks up at her. “Under the assumption that you were confused and not understanding what you were asking.”

“Asking?” asks Lacey, confused.

He looks into her eyes, mortified. Small tears forming in his eyes.

“Are we in love?” he asks her.

“Can I trust you with an honest answer?” asks Lacey.

He kisses her. Biting her bottom lip. He moves his hand up her skirt and fondles her. He smiles, luridly. She rests her head on his shoulder again, smelling his neck.

“Let’s go upstairs. Theses people will have to account for our mess later I guess.” he says.

He carries her upstairs. And as he does, “Won’t I get pregnant?” she asks.

“Yeah!” he says, casually.

“Well…we aren’t married.” says Lacey.

He pauses in the hallway.

“I don’t care!” he says.

“About what?” asks Lacey.

“About- We can get married tomorrow.” he says.

“Will we though?” asks Lacey.

And at that he races with her into a bedroom, shutting a door behind him, and quickly throws her on the bed. He locks the door. Undresses himself partially and then races over to her.

“Oh my God…you’re going to get me good.” he says.

“How do you know I want you that way?” asks Lacey.

(Repeated adult content below warning)

Breathless he inserts himself inside of her, “Because you’re so wet!” he says.

“What difference does that make?” asks Lacey.

“It’s-“ he laughs. Kisses her ear. “what makes me able to move around inside of you.”

“Oh! Oh, that makes sense.” says Lacey.

“You’re my wife.” he declares.

And at that he does moves to increase the likelihood of her getting pregnant.

Within fifteen minutes they’re in ecstasy recovering together naked. Holding each other.

“Let’s go get married now!” he says.

“Alright.” says Lacey.

“Get dressed.” he says.

She gets dressed.

“Now get me dressed.” he says.

“Oh! As practice for when you get old?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah!” he says.

“You’re not that old.” she says.

“I am.” he says.

“Not really.” says Lacey.

He lays there and thinks. “I am really.”

Nocturnes (2) For Piano, Op. 48, Ct. 120-121 by Fryderyk Chopin as performed by Arthur Rubinstein plays.

She dresses him, but before he can get dressed he rolls over and makes love to her again. This time slower and more relaxed. They find each other and he promises her eternity, and means it. And she believes him. And so…they become one in the way God intended…and they’d have died in that moment to fully and completely unite if not for God holding them together.

And of course they were married later that day. In Minneapolis. In 1962. And Thomas Banks sent them away for safe keeping…because he was their father…and he knew. He knew a lot.

Chopin ends the song on a very ominous note…indeed.