A Way To Play
I am alone, thinking, and sitting in the kind of quiet that makes my eardrums ring because there is nothing else to hear. In times like this, I realize that even silence comes with sound. In the quietest of times and in the absence of others, I can hear nothing but the high-pitched tone of an empty room.
I guess I might as well write about something . . .
Melany came through the doorway. Her hair was wet from the afternoon rain. Her long black coat hung on the back of her small studio apartment door. There was a tall white vase at the side of the front door. Inside, a semi-opened umbrella leaked the excess rainwater into the bottom of the vase. Droplets of water fell from Melany’s black coat and left a small puddle on the polished hardwood floor.
There was a notice pinned to the door of every apartment in the six-story, downtown apartment building. The notice was a warning to all tenants of an intruder that forced himself into the apartments of single women to sexually assault them.
“Beware,” reported the notice and advised all tenants to report anything that may seem out of the ordinary or suspicious. Melany found the yellow page left on her front door amusing. She crumpled the paper and threw it in the wastebasket in her small eat-in kitchen.
It was mid-week in late January. Melany undressed from her gray wet pant-suit. She removed all of her clothes and pulled a pair of comfortable sweatpants over her legs. Melany threw an oversized V-neck t-shirt over her head and poured herself a glass of red wine.
Her tall windows overlooked the intersection at 14th Street and 9th Avenue. Her room was furnished with a couch, a coffee table, a small flat screen television that mounted against the wall above a thin shelf, and computer table, which was off to the side of the square apartment behind a decorated partition that folded to hide Melany’s bed and sleeping area.
The walls were two-toned with red at the upper half and white at the lower. The colors were split with a molded chair rail that surrounded the apartment. The bathroom was near the bed with a small walk-in closet behind the door next to the bathroom.
The bathroom floor was tiled with white tiles. The walls were painted blue with gold accents, and the large antique bathtub had a white and blue shower curtain that wrapped around it. Melany was well organized. She placed her things away neatly to keep the place with a well-kept appearance.
The apartment smelled of potpourri and the paintings on the wall were all drawn and painted by Melany herself.
There was a small book shelf beneath the television, which was complete with a collection of books from some of the great poets. It would be clear to anyone that this place was owned by an artist.
Standing in front of the television while shaking a towel through her long curly hair to dry it from the rain, Melany watched the news report about a man that fled from police earlier that morning.
The reporter from channel 2 news explained, “Police say this man is armed and very dangerous.”
The reporter added, “Police are urging everyone in the area to stay indoors.”
“Do not go outside,” explained the reporter.
“Stay indoors until the police have cleared the area.”
Melany exhaled. She shrugged off the warning and laughed while reaching for her glass of wine.
“Looks like it’s just gonna be me and you tonight,” she said.
Ready to drink, Melany closed her eyes. She gulped the final puddle that remained at the bottom of her glass. She swallowed it with the result of a satisfied, “Ahhh,” before returning to the kitchen to pour another drink.
The city was soaked from a long downpour of heavy rain. The streets were mostly empty. Melany shut the ringer on her phone and silenced all the outside noises. She pressed play on her tiny remote to trigger the sound of Mozart to further detach herself from the dreariness of the afternoon. Then she lit two candles and placed them on the coffee table.
Melany was content. She was cozy and comfortable. All she needed to do was turn out the lights so she could sink into the soft pillow-top mattress and close her eyes to enjoy the moment.
She moved the covers over and propped the pillows into position. The sundown came over the city and the gray sky began to lose its daylight. Melany closed her eyes and exhaled.
Her large full breasts fell to the side. She was a full attractive woman. Her legs and backside were thick but very desirable. Her toes were pedicured; her nails were manicured and her body was kept nice and clean.
Laying back to enjoy the sound of Mozart, Melany purred to herself.
“This is exactly what I need right now.”
The candles flickered with a dull light to softly brighten the room. The candlelight’s glow danced on the ceiling.
Outside, the sky gave up more of its daylight. The room was beginning to seem darker. The cracks in the shadows of the room darkened. The outline to the bathroom and closet door appeared to blacken in the glowing of the orange light. Melany opened her eyes in a moment of content bliss.
She noticed the closet door was not closed all the way. However, this was not out of the ordinary. The building’s handyman was supposed to fix the door hinges. However, the handyman seldom kept his word and he rarely showed up when promised.
“I’m gonna kill that handyman,” Melany thought to herself.
She returned her eyes to the closed position. She turned the volume on the stereo to a higher level.
Enjoying the sounds of the orchestra, Melany smiled. She felt the results of the wine tingle through her body. A warm buzz moved through Melany’s system.
Feeling herself slip into desire, Melany dragged the back of her fingertips across her stomach. She moved her hand across her body to sway in the rhythm of the music.
As her hand gently tickled across her skin, Melany let out a soft exhale. She felt herself slip into a different, more erotic state of consciousness.
With her eyes closed, Melany ran her hands across her skin to feel the sensation of her own touch. She moved her head slowly as if the movement of her head was meant to conduct the flow of the orchestra
Melany slid her hand underneath her shirt to move between her large breasts. Suddenly, a loud roar of thunder overtook the city. Outside the rain became fierce. However, the music, which was matched by the wine and the candlelight made the moment perfect for her.
Melany began to reach down. She slowly dug her right hand beneath the front of her comfortable sweatpants. Her hand stood out beneath the gray fabric like a moving bump in the center of Melany’s legs. Again, the thunder rumbled outside like the sound of a terrible explosion.
There was a slight glitch in the electricity—but Melany was not about to stop. The sound of her stereo muted for a second, but then quickly resumed. Her breath quivered.
Melany shook with a feeling of personal ecstasy. Her back arched and her large breasts nearly pushed out from the top of her oversized t-shirt.
Again, the thunder rumbled. This time it was louder than the time before it. This time the thunder sounded so loud it felt as it the thunder shook the inside of Melany’s apartment.
She moaned. She moaned loudly as the thunder blasted over the city. Her hand moved quickly beneath her sweatpants as if she were working herself like a fast-paced machine. A loud rumble exploded from the closet door. This was not the thunder.
Before Melany opened her eyes, her face was covered by a pillow case that was quickly pulled over her head and was twisted around her throat. Melany was not in a position to fight back. She felt a hand grip around her neck. Then she felt another hand rip her comfortable sweatpants from her legs.
She tried resist, but there was no use. The hands that held Melany down were too strong for her to overcome. After the sweatpants came off, the t-shirt was next to be torn away—leaving Melany naked and squirming beneath the hand of an unknown rapist.
Melany tried to scream, but the hand around her throat allowed just enough air to barely breathe. She could not escape. She could not get up or fight back. She was helpless.
Melany felt a man’s body move between her legs. Then she felt the strength of that body impale her crotch. He repeatedly stabbed himself into her wet hole with every inch of his manhood. She was filled by him and stretched by him. He was thick and hard, pushing himself, slamming himself into Melany’s helpless body.
She never expected him
She never thought this would happen to her
As her body fell limp, Melany began to lose consciousness.
Melany’s eyes fixed to one position as her body approached a state of lifelessness.
She was very still when the man took the pillowcase from her head.
Satisfied, the man wiped himself with the pillowcase. He was out of breath. He stood over Melany, panting over her body like an animal would pant over its prey.
Looking down at Melany, the man growled, “How was that for a little game of role play, bitch?”
Lying flat, Melany allowed her eyes to move. “Not bad,” she said.
“But can we do this at my place next time? I hate asking the handyman to key me in to your apartment. He looks at me like he wants to watch us fuck”
Sometimes . . .
You need to add a little spice to keep the love life interesting.
Sweet dreams, folks