I slid the chair backward out from underneath the table. Turned slightly around to heave out. "I think it's time for me to go," I said.
"No, no, please," she begged, "I'm being genuinely straight-forward with you here, I don't want you to leave like this, not this time. Forget all that, that, that thing about the lawyer and all the rest," she said, and then, while pointing at the laptop, she added further:
"I want us to do this, you and me."
"You really are sure about this?" I asked.
"Couldn't be 'more sure,'" she replied.
As her hands reached up and started to undo the buttons on the skimpy little sleeveless top she was wearing. She came walking over to where I was sitting as she finished undoing the buttons. Sat down edgily on my knees.
"Look." I said, "I've already done some things that I regret, and that is the very reason why I am here being quizzed and threatened by you. Am I going to regret this, too? Coming here to talk to you?"
"No, that wasn't the reason why I called you here today, this is."
"I can't do this." I protested, "At least not with the threats of lawsuits hanging over my head."
"There are no lawsuits, there never were. Yes, I was angry and upset at first when I saw the recordings. Not even sure if it was at you or Mira. I think it was more at her than you, for bringing you in here, but when I started going through the recordings and got to see? (cheeky little grin) all I wanted to do was to be in her place, in Mira's place. And I just knew that I had to give it a try. I'm really sorry for the back-handed methods that I might have used, but? You wouldn't hold that against me, would you?"
While she spoke, she was undoing the buttons on my shirt. I gazed at the firm, full, round breast there just bouncing and begging. I was just about to reach out and take hold and get a gluttonous bite out of em, too, but then I recalled that she was nursing. It's probably why they were looking so damn lush and inviting but I still would not take anything away from how beautiful the woman looked. The upper half of me, the sensible half: my head, my heart, to a lesser extent. And my mind told me to protest. Don't be drawn into this dragnet, this trap. But my lower half, my over-actively sensual half, wasn't cooperating. He just wanted to hop on the horse and go a-giddy-upping down the tracks. Guess which half won out in the end? Yep, that, you got it.
This dirty old puppy dog hopped on in and went on riding along down the dead-end track. This was going to become a regular routine over the next little while for us. Every time the kids go off to their daddy's place, she'd call, and me? I hop on over to their place, where me-e-e, and? Mrs., Mrs. Jones, or was it Mrs. Ken? As in, Mrs. Kentise, yeah. Has got these red-hot chili peppers-like things going on. Until?
Libby came into the picture and spoiled everything, or did she?
While all this madness was going on with Mrs. Kentise and me. Mira and I were still having our regular rendezvous, only not at her workplace anymore. We never made that mistake again. So little by little, the heat started to wear out of the potful of Mrs. Kentise and me. Or so I wanted her to think of it. Mira likewise was seeing less and less of me.
"Is he getting tired of me?" Mira wondered this out while whispering in my ear. But it wasn't that at all. In a way, Mira was deluding herself all the while into thinking that she and I were an item. I never did have much real interest in her from the start. Beyond hitting the sack and burning some fat. If she was hoping and dreaming of something more than that. Then I guess one could call it a bonus. Everyone needs something to hold on to. A hope, a dream, in which case, I guess I'll always be her dream lover, won't I?
Libby stepped into the picture, and everything changed. And no, I wasn't banging on her door, as you might be sitting there wondering even now. There was something different about the way I felt about her. I'd even seemed to have lost the desire for the "regular workouts" as I had grown accustomed to them up until then. That's when both Mira and Mrs. Kentise started turning to pester me: "Where are you? What are you up to? Why have I not seen you in x number of days?" And on it went like that. Until Mrs. Kentise was to have gotten the fabulous idea of going back to her old ways. Her old, redundant, threatening ways.
They call me Manley "The Techno man" for a reason. I am the go-to guy for all things technical in electronics in general and computers in particular, but somehow. It would seem as if Madam Kentise did not inform herself well enough about who I was, to have known that part. So when she changed from her threatening ways to start bedding down with me. I knew that couldn't last. I didn't want it to last, and by then.
I had also seen enough of her to know that she could be a two-edged sword of sorts, cutting both ways. I had already tasted a bit of both bloody edges by then, too. So I started to prepare myself for that day when she would turn again from sweet to bitter. So, I started to record our every encounter, like our one-on-one conversations, phone calls, too. Well, her phone calls, not mine, since I never did call her. Ever.
"Are you still folking Mira?" The voice came blurting out in my ear.
"Wah? What? What?" I asked while rubbing away at lingering sleep and trying to pry my eyes open.
"Are you still folking around with that girl, Mira?"
"I cannot see how who I may or may not be folking around with is any of your business."
"Well, you must be folking her. Or God knows who else, why you don't want to folk me. And if you aren't getting it here, you must be getting it somewhere else, so who is it? Tell me, tell me."
"So, you mean to tell me, you call my house at 2:30 AM to inquire as to who I am folking, why I'm not folking you. Well, it looks like you're spot on right in at least half of the equation here. I'm not folking you, and that is because I don't want to be folking with you ever again. I never wanted to at the start, and I sure don't want to now, so go get a life and stop bothering me, Ms. Kentise, I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise."
I hung up the phone and tucked my head back under my pillow. Straight away, the phone started ringing again. "What now?" I answered.
"You hang up on me madder folkka, are you crazy? Do you know who you are folking with? Do you have any idea who you are folking with?"
"Do you want an answer to those questions?" I asked. "Or is it that you just want to go a-rattling on? If I were you, though, I would slow down and listen. Because I, too, have got some things to say which may be beneficial for you to hear, and since you have gotten me wide awake and alert now, I might as well tell you. You've got your own choices to make here when I'm done. What you want to do with the information I am about to divulge is all up to you."
"I have been recording you, I mean, our every encounter is on tape. From meetings at your house to phone calls. And yes, even this last one and the ones before that, and all of those one-on-one conversations, too. Listen to this?. Now, as you can see for yourself, or hear. It's all here. Everything is on record and might come in handy someday, don't you think, Mrs. Kentise? I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise, pardon me."
"You slimy Son-of-a-bitch," she said.
"No ma'am," I replied, you ain't know nothing about me or my mother. Or anyone else on my family tree, for that matter. So, don't you go about comparing me to whatever it is that your idea of a family is, or ought to be.
"What are you going to do with those recordings?" She asked.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Unless you make it worth my while to use them, then, and only then, will I use them, and not necessarily in ways like you'd use the info you have on me.
You see, I don't want to be doing you so I won't need to blackmail you into my bed, and I don't think that the threats of lawsuits will be time well spent for me. I want the biggest bang for my bucks. So, how about making all of your actions and shenanigans become public knowledge by circulating them, starting in your community, in the chosen places such as your worship temple. Your sports club and community center? And yes, I can make it all happen. I'm the Techno-Man, remember?"
"You are a dead man, Manley. Or man lie or whatever the hell it is that your name is."
"That also is recorded for future reference, just in case. Remember, as I've already told you, I've been recording every bit of our encounters?" She hung up. Why am I getting the feeling here that this is the end of her ever calling to bother me again?
To be continued.�
WritingElk.
"No, no, please," she begged, "I'm being genuinely straight-forward with you here, I don't want you to leave like this, not this time. Forget all that, that, that thing about the lawyer and all the rest," she said, and then, while pointing at the laptop, she added further:
"I want us to do this, you and me."
"You really are sure about this?" I asked.
"Couldn't be 'more sure,'" she replied.
As her hands reached up and started to undo the buttons on the skimpy little sleeveless top she was wearing. She came walking over to where I was sitting as she finished undoing the buttons. Sat down edgily on my knees.
"Look." I said, "I've already done some things that I regret, and that is the very reason why I am here being quizzed and threatened by you. Am I going to regret this, too? Coming here to talk to you?"
"No, that wasn't the reason why I called you here today, this is."
"I can't do this." I protested, "At least not with the threats of lawsuits hanging over my head."
"There are no lawsuits, there never were. Yes, I was angry and upset at first when I saw the recordings. Not even sure if it was at you or Mira. I think it was more at her than you, for bringing you in here, but when I started going through the recordings and got to see? (cheeky little grin) all I wanted to do was to be in her place, in Mira's place. And I just knew that I had to give it a try. I'm really sorry for the back-handed methods that I might have used, but? You wouldn't hold that against me, would you?"
While she spoke, she was undoing the buttons on my shirt. I gazed at the firm, full, round breast there just bouncing and begging. I was just about to reach out and take hold and get a gluttonous bite out of em, too, but then I recalled that she was nursing. It's probably why they were looking so damn lush and inviting but I still would not take anything away from how beautiful the woman looked. The upper half of me, the sensible half: my head, my heart, to a lesser extent. And my mind told me to protest. Don't be drawn into this dragnet, this trap. But my lower half, my over-actively sensual half, wasn't cooperating. He just wanted to hop on the horse and go a-giddy-upping down the tracks. Guess which half won out in the end? Yep, that, you got it.
This dirty old puppy dog hopped on in and went on riding along down the dead-end track. This was going to become a regular routine over the next little while for us. Every time the kids go off to their daddy's place, she'd call, and me? I hop on over to their place, where me-e-e, and? Mrs., Mrs. Jones, or was it Mrs. Ken? As in, Mrs. Kentise, yeah. Has got these red-hot chili peppers-like things going on. Until?
Libby came into the picture and spoiled everything, or did she?
While all this madness was going on with Mrs. Kentise and me. Mira and I were still having our regular rendezvous, only not at her workplace anymore. We never made that mistake again. So little by little, the heat started to wear out of the potful of Mrs. Kentise and me. Or so I wanted her to think of it. Mira likewise was seeing less and less of me.
"Is he getting tired of me?" Mira wondered this out while whispering in my ear. But it wasn't that at all. In a way, Mira was deluding herself all the while into thinking that she and I were an item. I never did have much real interest in her from the start. Beyond hitting the sack and burning some fat. If she was hoping and dreaming of something more than that. Then I guess one could call it a bonus. Everyone needs something to hold on to. A hope, a dream, in which case, I guess I'll always be her dream lover, won't I?
Libby stepped into the picture, and everything changed. And no, I wasn't banging on her door, as you might be sitting there wondering even now. There was something different about the way I felt about her. I'd even seemed to have lost the desire for the "regular workouts" as I had grown accustomed to them up until then. That's when both Mira and Mrs. Kentise started turning to pester me: "Where are you? What are you up to? Why have I not seen you in x number of days?" And on it went like that. Until Mrs. Kentise was to have gotten the fabulous idea of going back to her old ways. Her old, redundant, threatening ways.
They call me Manley "The Techno man" for a reason. I am the go-to guy for all things technical in electronics in general and computers in particular, but somehow. It would seem as if Madam Kentise did not inform herself well enough about who I was, to have known that part. So when she changed from her threatening ways to start bedding down with me. I knew that couldn't last. I didn't want it to last, and by then.
I had also seen enough of her to know that she could be a two-edged sword of sorts, cutting both ways. I had already tasted a bit of both bloody edges by then, too. So I started to prepare myself for that day when she would turn again from sweet to bitter. So, I started to record our every encounter, like our one-on-one conversations, phone calls, too. Well, her phone calls, not mine, since I never did call her. Ever.
"Are you still folking Mira?" The voice came blurting out in my ear.
"Wah? What? What?" I asked while rubbing away at lingering sleep and trying to pry my eyes open.
"Are you still folking around with that girl, Mira?"
"I cannot see how who I may or may not be folking around with is any of your business."
"Well, you must be folking her. Or God knows who else, why you don't want to folk me. And if you aren't getting it here, you must be getting it somewhere else, so who is it? Tell me, tell me."
"So, you mean to tell me, you call my house at 2:30 AM to inquire as to who I am folking, why I'm not folking you. Well, it looks like you're spot on right in at least half of the equation here. I'm not folking you, and that is because I don't want to be folking with you ever again. I never wanted to at the start, and I sure don't want to now, so go get a life and stop bothering me, Ms. Kentise, I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise."
I hung up the phone and tucked my head back under my pillow. Straight away, the phone started ringing again. "What now?" I answered.
"You hang up on me madder folkka, are you crazy? Do you know who you are folking with? Do you have any idea who you are folking with?"
"Do you want an answer to those questions?" I asked. "Or is it that you just want to go a-rattling on? If I were you, though, I would slow down and listen. Because I, too, have got some things to say which may be beneficial for you to hear, and since you have gotten me wide awake and alert now, I might as well tell you. You've got your own choices to make here when I'm done. What you want to do with the information I am about to divulge is all up to you."
"I have been recording you, I mean, our every encounter is on tape. From meetings at your house to phone calls. And yes, even this last one and the ones before that, and all of those one-on-one conversations, too. Listen to this?. Now, as you can see for yourself, or hear. It's all here. Everything is on record and might come in handy someday, don't you think, Mrs. Kentise? I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise, pardon me."
"You slimy Son-of-a-bitch," she said.
"No ma'am," I replied, you ain't know nothing about me or my mother. Or anyone else on my family tree, for that matter. So, don't you go about comparing me to whatever it is that your idea of a family is, or ought to be.
"What are you going to do with those recordings?" She asked.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Unless you make it worth my while to use them, then, and only then, will I use them, and not necessarily in ways like you'd use the info you have on me.
You see, I don't want to be doing you so I won't need to blackmail you into my bed, and I don't think that the threats of lawsuits will be time well spent for me. I want the biggest bang for my bucks. So, how about making all of your actions and shenanigans become public knowledge by circulating them, starting in your community, in the chosen places such as your worship temple. Your sports club and community center? And yes, I can make it all happen. I'm the Techno-Man, remember?"
"You are a dead man, Manley. Or man lie or whatever the hell it is that your name is."
"That also is recorded for future reference, just in case. Remember, as I've already told you, I've been recording every bit of our encounters?" She hung up. Why am I getting the feeling here that this is the end of her ever calling to bother me again?
To be continued.�
WritingElk.