By Maximillian Excaliber
Introduction
Have you ever wondered how you would spend your last hours on Earth? Now imagine that the world is going to be destroyed it's everyone's last hours on Earth. Where would you be when it happened? Who would you be with? What would you do? This is the story of one man and what he did when he found out that the 'End Of The World' was coming. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter One - "Restaurants"
"Bruce, can you see that couple sitting in the corner booth from where you are?" Teresa, my date, asked. She took a sip from her wine glass and then carefully set it back onto the white linen table cloth.
Teresa, because she was sitting between the couple and me, was blocking my line of sight. I couldn't see and told her so. "No, you're obstructing my view."
We were in a small, family operated, Italian restaurant having dinner. Candles providing the only light, it was dark inside. There were two rows of booths which ran down a single long isle from the front to the rear of the restaurant. Our booth was near the back. Except for one other couple sitting in the very back of the restaurant, other than the employees, the place was empty.
It was our third date. The first one had been a movie and the second a concert.
I asked, "Are they celebrities?" I don't know why I asked.
"I'm not sure." Almost hypnotically, her eyes were transfixed on them. She started to say something, "They're... he's... oh my! You've got to see this."
She had me curious, "Why? What are they doing?"
Teresa moved to her left slightly.
"There, can you see them now?"
The couple's reflection appeared in the mirror. While I couldn't quite make out their faces, I could tell it was a man and a woman. He was Caucasian and she Hispanic. From what I could tell in the near darkness, they were kissing. It looked as if her tongue was in his mouth. "Yes, that's better."
"Is that his left hand on her breast?" Teresa inquired. She seemed fascinated
It was. "It looks like it to me."
I watched them for a few seconds. The show they were putting on was very arousing.
"What's that he's doing now?" Teresa asked.
It felt as if I were spying on them. "He appears to be lowering his left hand."
"Why?"
I wasn't sure. "I think so he can..."
"... pull up her dress?" Teresa finished for me. Forgetting about our meal, like voyeurs we both continued watching the show. "Look! She's not wearing any panties!"
I could see but, did not respond. The man was moving his right hand between his date's legs.
"Now what's he going to do?"
I decided to be diplomatic and suggested, "Do you want to leave?"
"Not unless you do. We're all adults here. As far as I'm concerned, what they do is their own business." She paused. I assumed it was to give me time to consider what she'd said. "How do you feel about it? Do you want to leave?"
Grinning, I told her, "I think we got twice our money's worth."
"I don't follow you?"
I explained, "Not only are we having dinner but, we're got a couple of real swingers giving us a live action performance of 'Sex And The City' at the same time!"
Teresa looked at me strangely. It was a look that told me I'd said something that surprised her.
"Do you really think they're swingers?" She said almost expressionlessly.
I admitted, "I don't know. It's possible. If they were, they certainly wouldn't broadcast it though."
"Would you?"
When she asked it, I had been paying more attention to the couple in the corner than I was to our conversation and didn't understand the question. I asked, "Would I what?"
"Would you broadcast it? I mean, if you were a swinger, would you tell anyone."
There are critical times in a person's life when if they say the wrong thing, it can change their life forever. Something told me this was one of them. "Not in this day and age."
"Why's that?"
Trying to focus on our conversation, I explained, "Because this is the 'Land of the Free and Home of the Brave'. What it really means is that you're 'Free' to go along with the majority unless you're 'Brave' enough to do otherwise."
She said nothing. Just when I thought I'd offended her she began speaking again.
"Bruce, do you like to 'Party'?" Her eyes were upon me.
I looked at her and replied, "Sure... but only with the right people."
"Do you think you would enjoy partying with me?"
I was ready for a night out on the town. "I'd love to." Then I asked, "Do you know any good clubs?"
"There is a 'European Style' club I go to for a little 'Fun and Games' every other weekend. It's not a commercial establishment or 'Party House'. It's a private club. This couple I know likes to 'Entertain' in their home. They have lots of amenities which they make sure are kept 'Safe' for everyone."
I grinned, "Better safe than sorry."
"Especially when sorry means dead or worse." She agreed.
About that time, the man in the corner opened his date's blouse enough to fully expose his date's left breast and began sucking it with complete abandon. Her head was tilted backwards and was resting against the back of the booth. With a look of pure ecstasy on her face she opened her eyes, looked directly at me and smiled. Feeling like a kid who'd been caught looking in his neighbor's window, I smiled and quickly turned my attention to what Teresa was saying.
"All the club's members are nice, 'Clean', friendly people. We're very selective and, we won't invite someone back if we find out that the drink too much or do drugs. If what you're looking for is a place to dance, play a few games and enjoy the 'Indoor Sports', then our club is the place to do it." There was a brief pause during which I thought I heard a woman moan several times. "Do you have any plans next weekend?"
To me, the way Teresa had described it, the place sounded like a nice place where friends gathered for conversation and relaxation. "I'm completely free. Who is driving whom up or, are we going separately?"
"Great! I was hoping you'd say that. It's way out in Harris County, I'll pick you up and show you how to get there."
I stole a peek at the couple in the corner. It appeared as if the woman was unzipping her date's fly.
"By the way, just so you won't be too surprised when you get there, a few of our members are into the 'Arts'. One of them, her name is Annette, likes 'Greek' and Cheryl..." Teresa raised her eyebrows suddenly. It looked to me like the man was getting a hand-job.
Not as distracted as Teresa was, I asked, "Cheryl from work?"
"The very same. She really loves showing off her 'French'."
'So Cheryl is bilingual!' I thought to myself and expressed my surprise to Teresa. "I didn't know that about her."
"Only a few people at work do."
It struck me strange at the time. The company paid good money to people who could speak more than one language. But, I didn't bother to ask Teresa about it.
I glanced back over at the impassioned couple once more. From what I could see, the man had moved and was sitting with his back in the corner of the booth. His female companion was bending down with her head between his legs.
Trying to keep up my end of the conversation, I said to Teresa, "I learned a little Latin when I was in high school. I haven't had much opportunity to practice it lately though. Clara, my ex-girlfriend, knew one language and that was English."
"That was her loss. I can promise you that you'll have plenty of opportunities to expand your Latin 'vocabulary' at the party."
Teresa went on to tell me that the club's owners were planning something really special this weekend and that she'd send me an email with all the details.
When we left the restaurant that night, the man in the corner booth was under the table with his face between his date's legs. I don't think I need to tell you what he was doing there.
My date with Teresa was Thursday night. That Friday I was to start my annual two week vacation. Teresa new this and she was very understanding when I explained to her that, in order to keep from having to come in on my day off, I had to be at work early the next morning.
I dropped her off at her apartment.
Thus ended our third date. Like our previous dates, it ended with nothing more romantic happening than an extremely enjoyable goodnight kiss, not counting the two love-birds in the corner that is.
It seemed like a good start. There had been a lot of communication and I thought I was beginning to know her. I was wrong.
Chapter Two - "Ralph"
Before I go any further with this little tale, let me tell you more about myself. My name is Bruce Farrell.
In appearance, I'm what you could describe as being 'nondescript. In other words I'm so average the only way I'd stand out in a crowd is if everyone else were lying down. I'm 5'9" tall, have brown hair, brown eyes, weigh about 200 pounds, have a goatee, and wear bifocals. I'm also fifty years young.
One last thing about me before I continue on, like a lot of men, I'm not hung like a porn star. No revelation there right? Clara told me that my dick isn't as small as breakfast link nor as big as a polish sausage. I guess that was her way of saying that I was average down there too. For those of you who are interested, she also said my family jewels are bigger than toy marbles but smaller than tennis balls. Clara once compared my 'package' to a 6 inch bratwurst and a couple of furry golf ball sized flesh covered meat balls. She had a flair for culinary references.
That's enough about me. Now, I'll tell you some more about Teresa.
Teresa, to be more specific Teresa Angelica Gentry, is in my humble opinion one of the two most attractive women I know. She's forty-five years old, 5'8" tall, has auburn hair, green eyes, and a wonderfully curvy figure. The only other woman I know who even comes close to holding a candle to her is Cheryl Sloan. Yes, that's the same Cheryl she was talking about earlier.
Since anything else I could say about either of them wouldn't be relevant, I'll get back to my story now...
As I said, that Saturday I started my vacation and was really looking forward to the rest and relaxation that comes with it.
Hoping to see Teresa before the party, I tried to call her. Her phone service had been disconnected. It was the only number she'd given me so, given the circumstances; all I could do was wait for her to contact me. When two days later I still hadn't heard from her, I decided that despite what she'd said that night; Teresa didn't want to see me.
For the life of me though, I couldn't figure out why?
To my delight, two days later I received an email from her. It was short. All it said was when the party was and what time she'd be by to pick me up.
The rest of the week seemed to pass by with the speed of molasses after that. I guess it was because I had something to look forward to. Eventually though, the day of the party finally did arrive.
The forecast for Columbus Georgia, which is where I live, was for clear skies and high heat. It was not to be the best day for yard-work, but wasn't going to be the worst either. Having overslept, I didn't get started until almost 11:00. As the weatherman had predicted, there wasn't a cloud in the sky above me and the heat was raising fast. Two hours later, I was sweating like an Eskimo in a desert. An hour after that my tee-shirt was soaked; my underpants were drenched; and my socks were so wet that they made a 'squishing' sound every time I took a step. What I didn't know at the time was that my shorts had dark sweat stains in some of the most embarrassing places you can imagine.
Hoping to be finished by 5:00, I skipped lunch and kept working.
As I had planned, by 4:00 pm the lawn was cut, the sidewalk had been edged, and the hedges were trimmed. I was almost finished, which was a good thing because I was tired as hell. I had one thing left to do... take care of 'Ralph', the bush, immediately outside my office window. I'd saved the worst for last.
The house I own is a three bedroom ranch-style home located in one of the city's better middle income sub-divisions. It was a spoil of war left over from my divorce and one of the few things I had to show for four years of marriage. I had been lucky in that, at the time of my divorce eight years earlier, there wasn't much equity in the place and the payments were too high for my ex-wife to afford. She let me have it and along with it custody of 'Ralph'
What was supposed to be the front bedroom, and is now my office has a fantastic bay window facing the front of the house. The window usually provides me a relatively unobstructed view of both the walkway to my front door, and most of the driveway leading to my double-wide garage. I say relatively because 'Ralph', who is actually an unusually healthy wintergreen boxwood bush, lives right outside the window and was once again blocking my view. If it's any interest to you, I named him after the asshole contractor who built my sub-division.
'Ralph', the asshole contractor, left for me a host of architectural defects resulting from the cheap labor and shoddy materials used during construction of my house. Not content with simply taking his money and running, 'Ralph' the contractor left 'Ralph' the bush for me to deal with. I took it as a parting 'FUCK YOU' gift for me... so began the game.
Every year 'Ralph', the bush, and I had this little game the two of us would play. It's called who can piss the other off the most and it goes like this...
While I was busy working my ass off making sure 'Ralph the Bush' would have a place to stay, he would work just as hard growing so I'd be forced to use part of my precious free time, (in this case my vacation) knocking him back down to size. Unfortunately, after twelve years, the score was 'Ralph the Bush' 12, me 0.
That day, I had wasted yet another half hour of my life trying to take him down a peg (or rather to a peg) when I looked down at him and was overcome by a horrible feeling of déjà vu. Something in me must have snapped because I turned suddenly herbicidal and out came the weed and grass killer. I keep it for those times when I'm too busy working weekends and can't find anyone to cut the grass.
Hoping to drown him in a puddle of poisonous pesticide, I systematically saturated him with an entire gallon of the lethal liquid.
With a look of sadistic glee on my face, I looked down at 'Ralph' as if expecting to hear him cry out in agony. He didn't! Instead, of begging for mercy or screaming from pain he just sat there in mocking silence. To say I became angry would have been the understatement of the century.
I had murder in my eyes. I went into my garage and began looking for something... anything... with which to send 'Ralph' to whatever afterlife it is that dead plants go so he could meet the proverbial 'Burning Bush' personally.
Five minutes later, I came back carrying a trash-bag containing everything that was even remotely toxic in my garage; and then, one at a time, I maliciously emptied the contents of every container in the bag onto 'Ralph'. The last thing I remember pouring on him was a bottle of white shoe polish. Don't ask me how it had ended up in my garage, I have no idea! Anyway, by the time the last bottle was emptied, 'Ralph' was covered with enough rat-poison, snake killer, motor oil, transmission fluid, bug spray, window cleaner, hand cleaner, tire cleaner, bleach and yes, shoe polish, to kill a small city.
"Scream you bastard!" I said yelled furiously.
Nothing! Defiant to the end, he didn't even groan!
I fetched my garden-hose, turned on the water, and from five feet away, threw a match on 'Ralph'. First there was a loud puffing sound. That was followed by a kind of crackling snapping noise. Next, flames, accompanied by thick black smoke, suddenly rose six feet up into the air.
"Now what do you have to say?" His response wasn't what I expected.
"Oh shit!" I yelled as I watched him expand suddenly upwards into a topiary towering inferno of flames that was twice my height. I turned the hose on him and attempted to put out the fire. When after several seconds, it didn't go out; I remembered that water doesn't work on an oil fire.
After I realized my mistake, I made a mad dash back into my garage and grabbed the bucket of sand I kept there in the event I ever had a grease fire in the kitchen. I then ran back to the pyrotechnic pile of pulp that used to be 'Ralph' and, bending as low as I could without getting roasted myself, threw the entire contents of the bucket directly onto the base of the fire. It worked and the fire was smothered instantly.
I picked up my useless hose and stood vigil for several minutes as I wondered to myself what I was going to do if 'Ralph' burst back into flames. I was all out of sand.
Looking back on the event, I can honestly say that I was lucky I didn't kill myself with toxic fumes from all the chemicals I'd mixed. Anyway, ten minutes later I hosed off my victim and assessed the damage.
"NO FUCKING WAY!" I yelled.
Other than being devoid of leaves and slightly charred on the outside, my botanical foe looked no worse for the wear!
Enraged beyond words and disappointed beyond disbelief, I began trying to figure out whether or not the bumper on my Mini Cooper would take the strain of having a chain hooked to it. The other end of which I intended to attach to 'Ralph' so I could pull his antagonizing ass out of the ground. I suddenly got this all too vivid mental image of me driving down the street in a bumper-less Mini. In my rear-view mirror I could see 'Ralph' right where I'd left him. He was using one limb to give me the finger while another twirled the chain with my bumper attached to it through the air like a piece of 'bling' he'd just taken off a fallen foe in a street fight.
"Drink this!" I was startled by a voice behind me. It belonged to Mrs. Watkins, one of my next door neighbors. She was a retired nurse.
I had been so busy trying to exterminate 'Ralph' that I hadn't heard her come up behind me.
In her left hand she held a large glass of what appeared to be cold water and no ice.
I looked at her. "Huh?"
"Drink this." She said and handed me the glass.
Not wanting to argue with her, and being absolutely parched, I did as she asked. When I finished she asked me, "Can I see your hose for a minute?"
Not thinking, I handed it to her. Without saying a word she aimed the hose at me and turned it on. The sudden assault of water caught me off guard.
I started coming out of it instantly. "Hey, what gives?"
"You're over heated and talking to yourself. You need to cool off right now!" Mrs. Watkins explained as she continued hosing me down.
After the initial shock of the cool water hitting me wore off, I realized she was right and the fog I was in began to lift.
"I want you to promise me that you'll go inside, take a cool shower and drink three more glasses of water. Will you do that for me?"
I told her I would.
"Good. I'll be over in fifteen minutes to check on you."
As I headed for the house, my pocket started ringing. That's where I keep my cell phone. Trying not to get it any wetter than it already was, I extracted my phone from my pocket and flipped it open.
"Hi, Bruce!" I didn't recognize the number but the voice sounded like Teresa. I was still a bit out of it and not too sure.
I asked, "Teresa?"
"Yes." She replied exuberantly. "I haven't heard from you about the party. It's tonight and I was wondering how you felt about it. Do you still want to go?"
My senses returned and I remembered the email.
Confused, I told her, "I was hoping you'd call. By the way, do you know your cell phone is disconnected?" I guess I was still a little fuzzy.
"Damn! I'm so sorry. My plan expired and the cell provider I had went up on the rates. I decided to change phone companies. For some bullshit reason, the new company wouldn't let me keep my old number and, I got stuck with a new one. I thought I told you. I guess I've been so busy that I forgot." She paused briefly.
That lead to my next question, "That's okay. By the way, did you receive the reply email I sent you Wednesday?"
"No. I didn't. My Internet has been down all week. I was going to see if it was back up when I got home. I just got off work five minutes ago. Why? What was in it?" She asked hesitantly. Then added, "You're not offended are you?"
The fact that Teresa hadn't gotten my email was no big surprise to me. Her email address told me that we both had the same Internet Service Provider. I knew from experience that they sucked worse than a bucktoothed epileptic hooker with a bad case of lockjaw.
During that week, I had plenty of time to think about our date. One of the things that occurred to me was that she might be playing it cautious. In which case, I couldn't say I blamed her. The week before I'd gone on vacation everyone at work had been forced to sit through another one of those boring 'sexual harassment' seminars specifically designed to put the Fear of God, litigation and financial ruin into us.
I thought Teresa was talking about being a party girl. I said to her, "Offended? Why would I be offended? Like I told you at dinner, I agree with you. What happens between consenting adults is no one else's business."
"Well, people have differing views of what is and isn't acceptable. Most of society thinks the kind of 'partying' my friends and I do is immoral."
I asked, "Do you and your friends respect each other's limits?" I was thinking about a buddy of mine I went clubbing with one time. He tried to get me drunk and wouldn't listen when I told him I didn't want to get trashed.
"We all do. In fact, if someone doesn't, we won't 'party' with them anymore." Teresa answered.
It was the right answer, "Then I don't see a problem with it."
"So what do you think? Do you feel like 'partying' like there's no tomorrow?" I could tell she wanted me to say yes.
I'd already made up my mind. "I'd love to party with you. Are you still going to pick me up?"
"Yes. Do you still live at...?" She read my dress to me from the phone book.
I told her I did.
"Then I'll be there at 8:00 sharp." There was a short pause after which she added, "Let me give you my phone number in case you need to reach me."
I said sure and she did.
Ten minutes later, showered and dressed in a fresh pair of shorts, the haze was totally gone and I felt much better. I was working on my third glass of water when I heard the doorbell ringing. It was Mrs. Watkins. As if she'd never stopped being a professional nurse, she began taking my pulse and feeling my forehead to see how hot I was. She asked me when the last time I had eaten was. When I told her I hadn't, she explained to me that it would probably be a good idea if I ate something light. I said I'd make myself a sandwich. She seemed satisfied and left.
Ten minutes later, having devoured my food with all the enthusiasm of a starving man, I went to my bedroom and fell promptly asleep.
Chapter Three - "Runs"
After I woke up from my nap, I showered, got dressed and then went to my living-room. The email had said to dress for a party. I was wearing a pair of white dress slacks, a red satin short-sleeve shirt, red socks and black dress shoes.
While I had been looking through my sock drawer, I found an old bottle of highly overpriced cologne I had bought when I was with Clara. After months of her nagging me, I gave in and spent the money. It was my bad luck to pick the day we broke up to get it.
I was so mad at the time that I threw the unopened bottle in the back of my sock drawer where it would be out of sight and forgot all about it.
Deciding it was time to both put the past behind me and get a return from my investment, I opened the bottle intending to put some on. Unlike most cologne for men, this one was in a spray bottle. Wanting to know what it smelled like, I sprayed some on my wrist. Whew, it was really strong. Not that it smelled bad; it was just highly concentrated. Playing it safe, I sprayed a couple of squirts on a paper towel and rubbed it around my neck. Even that little bit seemed a lot to me and, I remember wondering to myself whether I had overdone it.
I then went into my living-room, sat down in my favorite chair, picked up my laptop, and tried to kill what time I had to wait by looking at my email.
The Internet was running slower than a snail trying to pull a concrete block up a slippery slope and I had to wait for my messages to download. I cruised a few porn sites looking for something to read. Just when the story I was reading was getting really good, Teresa called to tell me that she was running late. While I was on the phone with her, my connection dropped just as another message from Teresa started coming in. I could tell from the time stamp that it predated the one I had. It finished downloading about the same time the doorbell rang so I didn't have time to do anything other than send it to my printer. My intention was to read it on the way to the party.
The time was seven forty-five P.M.
As I headed to my front door, I grabbed the email off my printer and I stuffed the two page long printout into my pocket.
I opened the door and, as I'd hoped, Teresa was waiting there for me. To my pleasant surprise, she was not alone. Standing next to her was Cheryl.
Now, before I continue, let me tell you a little about, Cheryl. She's 5'4" tall, but what she lacks in height she makes up for by being perfect everywhere else. Her face is so cute as to be absolutely sexy. She has short curly blond hair, deep blue eyes, and luscious lips that will just make your mouth water wanting to kiss them. Below all that is a set of full round bosoms, a firm bouncy ass and pair of muscular but feminine legs. All this makes up one very sexy thirty-eight year old woman. Before I forget, there is one other thing I should mention, she's also been making goo-goo eyes at me for the last three months. Had it not been for the pervasive atmosphere of impending doom created by those damn sexual harassment seminars, I would have asked her out already.
Being a health hetero-sexual male, you know having a heart that beats and a penis that gets hard whenever it sees something it likes, I've awakened from more than one wet dream in which Teresa, Cheryl, and sometimes both Teresa and Cheryl, had climbed 'Mount Bruce' so they could slide down it's slippery slopes, re-climb it, and then do it again... and again... and again! Get the picture?
I gave them the standard greeting, "Hi!"
"Hello", they said almost at the same time. After which, first Teresa then Cheryl took turns hugging me.
"You smell absolutely wonderful!" Teresa exclaimed.
Innocently, I said, "I'm trying out a new cologne. Do you like it?"
Cheryl replied, "Oh yes! You smell great!"
As she began looking me up and down, I noticed that Cheryl's breathing seemed to be quickening.
I looked over at Teresa. It seemed to be having the same effect on her.
We all just stood there for a few moments looking at each other.
Teresa was wearing a short, sexy bronze three-string shimmer club wear dress. It had a deep plunging neckline, was bear in the back and had a him that started eight inches below her waistline. It looked to me then that she had on either pantyhose or full length stockings and a high garter-belt. On her feet she wore a pair of matching bronze three-inch high heels. It was a bra-less affair and she looked stunning in it!
Just as stunning was Cheryl. She was wearing a black microfiber wrap-around dress. It had a slight 'V' shaped hem at the top that curved around and down in the back half the distance between her shoulders and waist.
The bottom hem, which in the front was also in the shape of an upside 'V' and was so high I was pretty sure anyone at a distance or close to eye level would have seen the bottom of her panties. Visible just below the hem were two inches of her garter. Attached to that was a pair of black full length stockings. On her feet, she had a pair of three-inch black high heels. They made her look taller than she actually was.
"Sorry it took so long. Cheryl here couldn't find her favorite pair of earrings....again! Somehow they ended up rolled up in her stockings." Teresa said apologetically.
I was about to tell Teresa about the email when Cheryl yelled, "Oh crap!" distracting me.
"What's wrong?" Teresa asked.
With a concerned look, Cheryl exclaimed, "I was in such a hurry I didn't even bother to check them for runs before I put them on. Do you see any?"
I looked down at her lovely legs and I heard myself say, "Do I see any what?"
"Runs silly!" She said and giggled.
After looking again, only this time for runs, I told her, "Not on this side."
Smiling happily, she turned around and then bent over slightly. That's when I learned three things. First, there were no runs in Cheryl's stockings; that was good for her. Second, there was a three inch curved split hem in the bottom of her dress that was good for anyone who was looking. And lastly, but most importantly, I could see the crack of her ass which meant she wasn't wearing any panties, and that was very good for me!
Maybe she was in such a hurry she forgot to put them on? Yeah, and maybe I'm Howard Hughes long lost heir too!
But that's not what I was thinking at the time. What really went through my mind was... "OH MY GOD WHAT A GREAT LOOKING ASS!"
Wondering whether or not I was drooling, I said to her, "Nope, everything looks great to me!"
Teresa laughed.
"Cheryl, do you remember what I told you on the way over here?" I could hear a touch of annoyance in Teresa's voice.
Standing upright, Cheryl said to me, "Was my ass showing again?"
Thinking to myself, 'Again?' I told her truthfully, "Just a little."
Still etched in my mind the picturesque view of her beautiful bottom. I could see that Teresa was becoming impatient.
"Come on you two. We're already late for the party." Teresa said anxiously.
We headed to her car and I was going to sit in the back but before I could get there Cheryl ran ahead of me and opened the front passenger door. "Hop in."
Thinking she wanted the backseat to herself, I climbed in and waited for her to close the door. Instead, she began moving my way saying, "Scoot over Bruce. I don't want to sit back there all by myself."
I did and found myself sitting there sandwiched between the two of them. I was in heaven!
After Teresa backed out of my driveway, trying to make conversation, I asked, "If you don't mind telling me, what was it you said to her on the way over?"
Teresa smiled.
"I told her if she didn't behave herself you'd think we were a couple of perverts."
I looked down at her stocking covered legs. "I don't see anything perverted."
Cheryl giggled, "See, I told you he was okay. Didn't I?"
Changing the subject, I asked, "So tell me, where is this party we're going to?"
"It's at a friend's house out in Harris County." Teresa replied. Harris County is a separate rural municipality outside the city limits of Columbus.
Despite the fact that the car's air-conditioner had been running from the moment Teresa had started the engine, my cologne permeated the car. One look at the air-conditioner's settings told me why. It was on recycle meaning very little, if any outside air was getting in. Wondering what effect my cologne was having on the ladies, I looked at them one at a time. Even in the dark, I could tell that both Cheryl's and Teresa's eyes were glazed over. 'Interesting!' I thought to myself. 'I'd love to know what's going through their minds right now.'
Teresa turned the radio on and, after an uneventful ride; twenty minutes later we arrived at are destination.
It was a Colonial style house isolated deep in the woods about half a mile off the main road. There was a large two car garage on the front left side. Next to that was what appeared to be, from the outside, another equal sized garage but with one door instead of two.
On a slab to the left of the work-area was parked a 30' motor home. It looked to be perhaps twenty years old but was in excellent condition.
Teresa got out of the car first, followed by Cheryl and then me. The two women headed to the door. I stayed back purposely enjoying the view.
Teresa pushed the doorbell and about twenty seconds later, the door opened. The person who answered it was a woman.
Cheryl introduced her as our hostess, Kayla Burch.
Kayla had long brown hair, brown eyes and figure that she must have worked out regularly to maintain. Being 5'10" in height she was taller than the average woman. I guessed her to be about forty years of age.
That night she was dressed in three-inch tall black high-heels, sheer black thigh high stockings and a matching garter belt. On her hips was a black satin skirt that was so thin it was almost transparent. Above that, was a see-through black sleeveless blouse with a teardrop opening in the front. Beneath the blouse appeared to be a lacy black bra. On her neck was a short, silver chain necklace. Hanging down from the chain and resting just above the top of her blouse was a one-inch, oval black onyx stone resting in a silver setting. Around each wrist were matching thin silver chain bracelets.
After a brief introduction, Kayla said, "Come on in, the party's already started. Bruce, I'll get Alex to give you a quick tour of the place so you'll know where everything is. Don't hesitate asking for anything, my house is your house.."
I saw a man of perhaps forty-five walk up behind her. He had black hair, brown eyes, and was also about 5'10" inches tall. He was wearing matching blue shirt and pants. The man didn't look very muscular and, the paleness of his skin told me that either he didn't tan easily or worked indoors. There appeared to be no calluses on his hands which, in my mind, confirmed the later.
Kayla introduced them, "Bruce, this is my husband Alex. Alex this is Bruce. He works with Teresa and Cheryl."
After a few more pleasantries, I was taken inside and introduced to the other guests at the party, two women and two men.
There was Esmeralda Silva, a stunning beautiful dark complected thirty-eight year old Spanish woman. She had shinny long, wavy, black hair that went down almost to the crack of her ass. Esmeralda was wearing an emerald short-sleeve green dress. The dress had a one inch choker color and rectangular neckline in the front. I kept thinking to myself that I'd seen her somewhere before but couldn't place it. She told me that she was at the party alone.
Next there was couple, Annette Hurst and her date Gary Hull; they'd arrived at the party together.
The first thing that I noted about Annette was she liked to giggle a lot. She couldn't have weight more than 90 pounds fully clothed and soaking. She was 5'9" and about thirty-six years old. Her hips were as small as a twelve year old boy's and her waist even smaller. Annette had a beautiful face and had it not been for the obviously counterfeit tits she was sporting I have no doubt she could have been a supermodel. Her hair was sandy-blond and short. Her eyes were blue and she had perfect teeth. Covering her was a satin and lace sleeveless white dress with a modest neckline in the front. On her feet was a pair of white three inch leather high-heels. As she walked away from me after her introduction, I noticed the neckline in the back was not even close to modest. It went all the way down to the top of her ass and then an inch more beyond.
Gary, in stark contrast to Annette, was absolutely homely. He too was about 5'9" but I think he was a couple years older than she was. My guess is he was about forty-one or so. Gary was bald and, because he wore tented glasses, I couldn't tell what color his eyes were. Except for the black slacks and matching black short-sleeve shirt he had on, if you imagine an accountant out of one of those old 1950's movies, you'll have a pretty good picture of him.
Craig, who I was told came to the party by himself, was one of the least handsome men I've seen in my life. He had curly red hair, horrible freckles, high protruding cheek bones and a slight pot belly. His slacks were navy blue and his shirt white. Had it not been for his voice, which was so deep that I'm sure the women who'd heard it but had never met him found sexy, I'd say that he reminded me a pudgy version of Howdy Dowdy.
The tour followed. Alex told me that what I'd thought was a second garage was really his workshop but conspicuously didn't show it to me.
When the tour was over, I was led back to the living-room to the other guests.
The television was on. Alex must have noticed me looking at it. He explained, "Annette is in a commercial for one of the local car dealerships. It premiers tonight and I thought everybody would get a kick out of seeing it."
The picture on the screen faded leading into a commercial break. "Here it comes, he announced!"
Annette appeared on the screen wearing a tight fitting bikini that made her massive mammaries look even bigger. She was standing in the back of a pickup truck doing jumping jacks. As the camera panned in close and focused on her bouncing boobs, the announcer began speaking. "Looking for REALLY BIG DEALS? If you're looking for HUGE SAVINGS, then Bi-City Worldwide Used Cars is the place for you. We'll do anything to get your business. Isn't that right Cherry?" "That's right Annette answered in a labored breath. A small window, about a third of the screen appeared in the upper left right corner of the television. It began cycling through photos of cars and the prices. The announcer continued, "And if you think they look great now, wait until you see what's under the hood."
The room erupted with laughter. Suddenly, the screen changed. One of that television station's newscasters, a man named 'Chip' something, began speaking...
"Are we live?" A woman's voice answered, "Yes."
The man began speaking, "We interrupt our regularly scheduled broadcast to read the following bulletin from the National Aeronautics and Space Administration...
'Two clusters of asteroids will impact the earth between the hours of 7:27 and 11:58 pm eastern standard time.
The first cluster contains a group of an estimated 125 asteroids of which all but one is smaller than 40 meters in diameter. The smaller ones are expected to be destroyed when they enter the earth's atmosphere. The remaining asteroid is estimated to be 45 meters in diameter and will impact the earth somewhere in mainland China, however, the exact location of that impact cannot be estimated at this time.
The second cluster of asteroids, while smaller in number, contains one 2 kilometer wide asteroid. At 11:58 pm eastern standard time, the larger asteroid will impact somewhere in the south-east United States. The resulting collision will create an extinction level event.'"
Chapter Four - "Ratfuck!"
We had just been told that the world as we knew it was coming to an end.
After he finished reading the press release, the announcer put down the paper he was holding and asked, "Tom, do we have anything else from NASA?" There was a short pause during which his eyes appeared to be searching in front of him. "Hey, where did he go?" An unseen female voice called out, "The same place we all are, home to be with our families!"
"That's just great! I can't believe you're all going to leave me here alone. You know I don't have anyone to go home to!" It was a well known fact that the man was considered one of the city's most eligible bachelors.
Coldly, a man's voice yelled. "Ask Mei if she'll stay with you. She's been trying to get your attention ever since she started working here."
A frumpy, but not unattractive, thirty year old young Asian woman walked into camera view and sat down in the empty chair next to him. She was wearing blue jeans and a tight fitting orange blouse that made her breasts look larger than they probably were. She said to him, "I'll stay here with you if you want; I don't have anyone waiting for me at home either."
Static filled the television screen for a second. From what I could see, it looked as if 'Chip' and Mei were embracing. The static cleared a bit, 'Chip' and Mei were kissing. More static, this time worse than before. When it cleared again, she was nude from the waist up and 'Chip' was sucking her right breast. She was saying something but the static was so bad I couldn't tell what it was.
I thought to myself, 'It took the end of the world but we've finally got something worth watching on broadcast television!'
Cheryl called out, "See if the reception is any better on another channel."
Kayla pressed a button on the remote control she was holding in her right hand. A woman I recognized as another local television news anchor, I think her name was 'Mindy', appeared on the screen. The static on that station was heavy but at least I could make out what she was saying. "I repeat, the first asteroid impacted the earth in China one minute and ten seconds ago totally destroying city of Hong Kong. The loss of life is estimated to be in excess of 7 million. According to the bulletin just released by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, as the second asteroid moves closer to the earth, we can expect the electronic interference we are having to continue to grow."
"Hey, anybody got a dial tone on their cell phone? Mine's dead!" It was Annette.
Alex picked up the phone, listened for a second. "The land lines are dead too. Hey, where are you going?" It was directed at Gary.
