She gazed out through the raindrop dappled glass doors. There had been a harsh, thunderous rainfall last night. The web appeared intact, at least partially. The spider was still and unmoving. The golden patterned arachnid must have been slowly moving up and down, over and across, mending it earlier. Fixing it. Keeping it ready for the victims flying into its home.
But now the spider was quiescent. The watcher had seldom seen the creature active. When she did the spider's feet were wonderfully nimble.
It was a common garden spider who had taken up residence in the pergola attached to the rear of the century-old brownstone where she now resided. No one used the backyard structure. It was overgrown with wisteria vines and had patio furniture strewn haphazardly around and was occasionally touched by the rays of sunshine causing the shadows to flicker.
However, this morning the skies were overcast and it was dim and quiet under the vines. She raised a hand slowly upwards and hesitantly lifted and smelled her locks of red, running them through her scarlet lips, tasting the flavor on her tongue with relish.
She walked into the master bedroom moving towards the bathroom. It was time to bathe. To wash away the night's sensual residues. Soon the shower was jetting out its warm waters and she stepped in, already naked and prepared for her ablutions.
For her, the normal ritual began with her body's nether regions. With a soft, soapy, cushiony sponge she wiped away fluids and bodily moistures accumulated over the night's hours of frenzied fervor. As she cleaned she became aroused in her own special way. The way she completed her purification ceremonies. She purged herself by completing sensual urges with a tickle of her nub.
No need to rush, ever. The night's deeds were done and now she relished her satiation. She caressed her distended belly and tingled her pleasure zone with her deft fingers. Her knees bent as her back pressed solidly against the shower stall, warm water pouring over her long, reddish tresses. Then dripping and flowing over her rounded stomach, over her pubic curls of passion, draining away all evidence of her nocturnal enjoyment. Her legs quivered as her dexterous digits completed the ravenous assuagement of her final need.
She sank to the porcelain floor moaning, laughing, and weeping in her culmination.
At last, she arose and finished her normal showering. It ended with a soothing, delightful shampoo of her treasured ginger locks, twisting and turning around her high brows while gliding between her long fingers before drooping damply and caressing her neck.
Using a large, fluffy bath towel she dried her ivory skinned body. She took her time making sure the locks of hair were fully dried. She used her special brush to shape it thoroughly into its naturally flowing waves. With the end of this morning's ultimate cleansing, she stepped out of the bathroom.
She glanced over at the figure lying across the crumpled bedclothes. Silent and dormant at the moment. Still and unmoving. Her face was unmoving as well. Stiff and hard as stone. There was virtually no change in her solemn features.
She dressed in the proper clothing to conclude the occasion.
oo00oo
Travis boarded the subway at Penn station heading to the Lower Eastside. He sat in one of the free seats and then shuddered with relief as he realized Monday was over but then remembered the week was just starting. He was going home after a dreadful day. He shook his head and then glanced up and across at the girl sitting with her hands clasped in her lap around a book. What lovely wavy hair he thought, smiling to himself. Surprisingly she smiled at the same time as her eyes met his.
"You have such a sad look on your face. You okay?" she said in a gentle voice that just reached his ears over the subway noises.
"Oh, just a bad day. I'm fine now. Heading home," he responded shyly. Travis was always very circumspect with women. He had never been too lucky at understanding them well. But he smiled again as she nodded at him.
"So you just got off work? That's good." Then she subsided and opened her book. The loose tresses of her ginger locks fell down around her freckled cheeks.
Travis didn't disturb her but was feeling an odd sense of almost jubilance simply from the fact that a girl like her spoke to him. He just wished he was more courageous. He was not brave, though. He looked down at the Daily News he had grabbed at a kiosk as he descended down to the subway.
The headline concerned another body pulled out of the East River. The cops didn't want to explain how the guy had died. Just hints about some kind of grisly death. Travis recalled that this was not the first. Wouldn't be the last, for sure. Anyway, just another day in the city.
His stop finally arrived. He got off glancing over to the girl. She looked up and lifted a hand in silent goodbye as a slight gust of wind seemed to flip her hair into motion against her cheeks. He stepped out of the open doorway onto the platform.
The subway car whooshed away as he paced up the stairway, with mixed feelings, to the street level.
In the distance, he could hear the sounding of a foghorn down by the river.
oo00oo
Crooning, she was crooning. Rocking back and forth on the bare wood-plank floor. Unclothed and shivering even though droplets of perspiration dripped from her nose and chin. Crooning out her wants and desires. Wailing against the walls covered with shredded bits and ribbons of ancient wallpaper from years past.
Arms waving around, tossing her hair about, agitated locks flying and spinning in the still, dank air. Then gripping her own torso tightly, pressing her forearms against pink-tipped breasts. Fingernails pressed into her flesh. Tongue lapping out to taste her own sweat. To savor the odors and flavors of her own bodily fluids. Knowing what needed to be done.
She lifted up, twisting on her crossed legs, fluidly and effortlessly, with the strength of legions in her singular body. Spreading her arms and mouth wide. Warbling her needs in an ululation of desire.
oo00oo
The next Friday evening Travis felt a sharp thrill of delight when he boarded the subway at quitting time. The redheaded girl was seated in the car. He immediately sank into a place opposite her and settled in with a sigh of satisfaction. He had no real expectations but as he had always told himself at his low points "a guy's gotta have dreams."
However, he didn't have the nerve to speak. He just sat and let himself steal glances at her lowered face, reading her book. Then she snapped the book closed, looked up, tossing her head slightly. She brushed long fingers past her locks delicately. "Hi, Mister. Is work over for you, now?" As he nodded diffidently she resumed, "Lucky fellow, to be sure."
The subway car bumped along as they moved under the city to their destinations. Suddenly, he blurted out, "I'm Travis. Hi. Hi. Nice to see you again." Then he subsided into awkward stillness, staring down at her prim ballet slippers in silence. He could feel the blood rushing up his neck and coloring his face.
Soon enough they arrived at his station and he rose to step out. To his surprise, the girl was right behind him as he left the carriage. He began walking towards the stairs and to his wonderment, she was right beside him.
She laughed as she looked up at his seriously quizzical face. "I'm not stalking you," continuing to laugh, "but I needed to get a few things at a shop near here for dinner. My place is only a few minutes away from this stop anyway."
"Oh, okay. Sure. Yeah, well. Okay, so I'm Travis?" His voice squeaked as he questioned his own identity. The girl giggled.
"Call me Euriel. Yes, I'm Euriel, the traveler. Nice to meet you, Travis?" She made it a question as well, then chortled.
They had been walking to the east, towards the river, in a mixed neighborhood of brownstones and small shops. At a corner grocery, she turned into the entryway. "I'm getting some things here. Have a good evening, Mister."
She was reaching for the handle of the door when he exclaimed, "Could we meet sometime for some coffee or something?" It was torture for him. He had not been with a woman in so long.
"Some time? Why not right now? I'm getting the things I need for my dinner. Why don't you join me? You don't have plans do you?" She smiled and tossed her head slightly letting her ginger tresses rustle about her pink cheeks. He almost lost his balance as he stepped backward in slight shock at this totally unexpected invitation.
"Uh... but," he hesitated, then, "aren't you afraid. I mean, those bodies over in the river. Do you know about that?" Pausing again, then, "You don't know me at all," he blurted out suddenly.
She laughed out loud now. It was so robust for a small girl, he thought. And a little disconcerting. She spoke up, "But, those bodies are all men, right? Maybe it's you that should be careful." She grinned, then coughed slightly turning her head away and shaking her head, swaying her long tresses.
He suddenly realized that he was completely harmless in his appearance and it was perfectly apparent even to a stranger like this lady. In a subtle way it was rather shameful, he supposed. But, still, he was soon walking to her place, carrying her evening's dinner items. And happy to be doing it.
When they arrived at her place in an old brownstone he was willing to help with the preparations. He was a good cook. He'd done it all his life, alone in the stream of rooms and apartments he had lived in. Euriel cheerfully accepted his aid and they soon had dinner ready laughing often as they went along.
After dinner, they spent some time simply talking. She described to him the places and peoples she had seen and met in her travels around the world. It would seem that she had been everywhere, but the one thing she passed over was where she was from. She just laughingly said she simply appeared on the earth once upon a time.
Travis had not had much to tell her. Not the way she had talked. But he openly chatted about his work as an architect in the Manhattan borough office. And he was glad that she found some interest in his philosophy of life, although she was not slow in expressing how naive she felt he was at times.
After a pleasant evening, he was leaving her flat. She shook his hand solemnly as he started out her door. Then, with sudden strength, she pulled him to her and lifted her face to kiss him. As her soft, fluffy curls were wispy around his face her lips nibbled his and her tongue touched his clenched teeth. Abruptly, she drew away. Her face was unmoving.
"Goodbye. Come back tomorrow. At the same time." She pushed him out and jerked the door closed.
There was a slight chill in the air as he walked to his apartment. It was dark and the streetlights were not bright enough. Shadows pressed around him arousing a bit of apprehension. He could smell someone's fireplace burning hickory firewood.
He slept restlessly that night but he awoke quite refreshed with a touch of unfamiliar optimism. Somehow the quiet dread had passed from his mind.
oo00oo
Saturday passed. Travis heard on the local news that another body was pulled out of the East River. Another man. And this time, perhaps in a move to try and get the public to phone in anything at all that they knew or may have possibly seen the authorities finally released some grim details.
The body was found completely nude with many piercings of the flesh as well as bits and chunks seemingly nipped or torn off as if by some ravenous creature or creatures. It was not determined yet whether it happened before death or was post mortem. The most hideous fact was that the corpse was missing its penis. It appeared to have been severed. Not neatly, as with a sharp knife. Rather, raggedly as though torn or even bitten off. It was impossible to say how long it had been in the river.
As he heard all of that Travis didn't really take it all in. He was just waiting for the day to pass until he saw Euriel again. Finally, he left his flat to walk over to her place. There was a chill in the air and again he could smell the scent of burning firewood. The fog was drifting in from the East River. He shivered in his greatcoat happy he had worn it.
He arrived at the brownstone where Euriel lived. The door was pulled open even before he could knock or ring the bell. It was as if she had been waiting and watching for him to arrive. She took his hand and drew him into her front parlor and pulled him down on the settee without a word.
He was astonished to see she was completely naked. Her ivory-skinned body was dotted with freckles and her ginger hair waved about her aristocratic shoulders. She stood straight and tall with cup-sized breasts jutting out and her pink-tipped nipples hard and erect. Her vulva was covered by unshaven pubic hairs that seemed to tremble as her thrusting mound also quivered and shuddered with need.
"What's wrong? You look so pale. Are you ill? Is this a bad time?" he stammered out, trying to understand. She stared at him, so silent and still and then abruptly grabbed his face and drew him to her. She was licking his lips and face, not really kissing, rather passionately tasting and savoring him. He was frightened and still completely willing to accept it.