I wonder if I looked as stupid as I felt. The lights were glaring
into the dark glasses, and I could feel the cheap black wig shifting
on my head. The stage manager popped up, "we're back in
five, four, three..." The lights steadily got brighter as the
crowd went nuts for the flashing, red applause sign. The host walked
out from the middle of the crowd,... and that's when I went
blank.
* * *
The houses all stood in perfect rows. They all looked as if they
were the exact same house except for exterior color. Some had bushes,
some had trees, some had children in the yard, and others looked
abandoned. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the birds were
singing. It was another "Pleasant Valley Sunday." The
neighborhood was the perfect stereotype right down to the father
mowing the grass in his Bermuda shorts, black socks, and sandals.
We pulled up to 1532 England in our beat-up station wagon. The
moving van blocked most of the driveway. "Well, here we are,
Lizzy, the suburbs," I laughed and shot her an uneasy smile.
I knew this was the last place she wanted to live. She scowled back
at me, and reached for the door handle.
"You sure know how to pick 'em, Drew," she half-screamed
when she saw the house.
She lit up a cigarette and started toward the front door. All the
neighbors stared as we walked past the perfectly trimmed shrubbery,
and into the house. They were all staring at the two most unlikely
suburbanites. True, Lizzy was an up-and-coming book editor that
worked way too hard for what she earned. She loved the city and
hated the fact that I had decided to move in next to June, Ward,
Wally, and The Beaver. But, she humored me because she loves me.
Me, I had to get away from the noise of the city. I'm a computer
network consultant, so I do all my work from home. I don't
have to get up early, I don't have to shower to go to work,
and I made seven figures last year sitting in front of a computer
monitor. But, that's all irrelevant now.
 The first
weekend we lived in the house, we were invited over to the neighbor's
for a barbecue. Ed, the neighbor, sent his wife over to ask if Lizzy
and I would like to come over and mingle with them and some of the
other neighbors. I told her we'd love to, even though Lizzy hated
the idea. We walked up to Ed's front door where there was a small
note telling us to come around to the backyard. We opened the gate
and were immediately attacked by the smoke from Ed's grill.
"C'mon in!" Ed yelled. "Grab a cold one
from the cooler, buddy." Lizzy's face turned pale white.
I could tell she was going over every suburban stereotype in her
head. "How do you like your burger, pal?" I walked over
to the cloud of talking hickory smoke.
"The name's Drew, and you must be Ed," I laughed.
Ed was dressed in the traditional Sunday barbecue garb, right down
to the apron with the saying, "If you don't like my
cooking call 1-800-EAT-SHIT." I grabbed a beer and struck
up a less-than-sparkling conversation with Ed. Lizzy sat down at
the redwood picnic table and opened her beer.
The sliding glass door to the house opened, and Ed's wife
stepped out. She was wearing a pink bikini top and white shorts.
I decided that she was much younger than Ed based merely on the
fact her ass looked like she was still in high school. "So,
Ed, how long you lived here?" I asked with my eyes glued to
his wife.
"Only five years. We love it here. See, we got married straight
out of high school, and I went to work for my old man... insurance.
It took me five years to save up for this place. So, what do you
do?" he smiled, even though he knew I was staring at his wife.
"Computers. I consult companies on their networks,"
Ed looked confused. "Lizzy, she works in the city. She edits
books," Ed looked even more confused.
"So, you both drive to the city every day. Why the Hell'd
you move here?" he laughed.
"I work at home. Lizzy's the only one that commutes,"
I knew this was going to get a weird reaction. Ed said nothing.
He just stood there and looked dumb-founded, which, I guessed, was
quite normal for Ed.
Two more couples arrived, there was Neil, Mike, and their wives.
Everyone was borderline thirty. Lizzy and I were the oldest at thirty-two
and thirty. She and I compared notes, later, and found out that
we had both been grilled with the same questions by the husbands
and wives. What do you do? What does your wife do? Why'd you
move here, if you both work in the city? We answered, and received
the same dumb-founded looks. These people just couldn't grasp
that I stayed at home and Lizzy drove to the city every day. But,
they were nice people, for conservatives. It made us laugh for at
least an hour when we got home and thought about our new-found friends.
Six months went by, and Lizzy and I got used to suburbia. I would
get up around six and fix breakfast. Lizzy would get up around six-thirty,
shower, and then come downstairs. "So, what's up for
today?" she asked. I would explain to her that I would be
on-line all day with clients, and what their specific needs were...
blah, blah, blah. She'd stand up, still half asleep I think,
and say, "well, see you at dinner." She'd laugh
thinking about how mundane our lives had become, stumble out the
door to her car, and then drive away.
In reality, I would get most of my work done before noon, so I
could go over to Mike's house. At Mike's, I would sit
with the wives, smoke cigarettes, drink coffee, and gossip. We would
talk about our relationships, past and present. The women would
complain about their husbands, while inquiring how Lizzy and my's
relationship got so perfect. Hours would pass without a break in
the conversation, but right before the husbands, and Lizzy, came
home we would break our conference and make it home right before
them. Lizzy would get home. We'd eat dinner, talk or read,
and then go to bed. Occasionally, we would go clubbing just to make
sure we weren't as old as we were feeling.
* * *
"So, tell us how the day started," the stage lights
viciously glared off the host's glasses. The cheap, black
wig made another attempt to slide off my head. I looked out over
the silent audience.
* * *
Lucas and Christian stood at the gates of Sodom. It was three days
before the city was plucked off the map by the hand of God. They
weren't trying to go against His will. They weren't
renegades. Lucas brushed the dust from his wing.
"I'm going, with or without you," he sang at
Christian. With that, he started into the city.
Lucas stood in the doorway. He couldn't believe what he was
seeing. Men, women, and God-knows-what else laying together. He
was repulsed and interested. His body pulled him into the room,
and immediately he was sucked into the orgy. He pulled, tore, and
scratched in an attempt to get away, but his scratching turned to
rubbing and prodding. Every muscle in his body tensed and pulsed
in the pile of sex.
Christian saw the lightning coming from the west. He could hear
the sin going on inside the city, and he knew Lucas was in the middle
of it all. Lucas came stumbling towards the gates. He smelled of
sweat and sin. As soon as he reached the gates, his throat closed
and he fell over choking. He was doubled over trying to cough his
throat open, it wasn't working. Christian watched as Lucas
struggled. He writhed on the ground, as his wings were torn from
his back. As if that pain weren't enough, his head was ripped
from his neck. Christian knelt in the dirt cradling Lucas's
head.
* * *
"Ed's wife called me that morning, after Lizzy had
left. She invited me over for lunch with Neil and Mike's wife.
I accepted. Around noon, I walked over to Ed's," I paused
to clear my throat.
The lights were burning through the dark glasses. I was sweating
so much I thought the cheap, black wig was going to wash away.
"When I arrived, the front door was unlocked and there was
a note telling me to come in. I stepped into the doorway of the
living room. I could see Ed's wife sitting on the couch. She
jumped up as soon as she heard me behind her. She was completely
naked." The crowd let out a long sigh, and then settled back.
"She walked around to the back of the couch and stood directly
in front of me. Her body was muscular and firm. She knelt down on
her knees, and started to unbuckle my belt. Over her head, I could
see Mike and Neil's wives on the couch, kissing. Their bodies
were tied together in sex," there was no immediate reaction
to my pause. The crowd sat, riveted. "We all piled together
on the floor, and had repeated orgasms all afternoon."
I could still feel that afternoon as I told the story. I could
feel each one of the women's bodies rubbing against mine.
Their soft curves fit my hands perfectly. I could feel my hands
searching, and my fingers prodding every open orifice. The women
would moan softly when I found a sensitive spot, and squeal when
my tongue finally got there. I could feel the hot breath of Ed's
wife on my cock, and the wet warmth of her saliva washing the lipstick
from her lips. Our four bodies rhythmically pounded together on
Ed's carpet. I could feel the pulsing of all our muscles contracting
and releasing in orgasm. As soon as we all caught our breath, it
would start all over again. There were no partners, no husbands,
no wives, only a sweating, pulsing pile of sex. Finally, there was
one long moan of excitement. All the muscles in the pile tensed
and released for the final time. The pile fell into peices in the
middle of Ed's living room.
"We knew it was getting to be that time, so we put on our
clothes, kissed good-bye, and went home," The crowd was completely
stunned. They had no idea how to react.
Thank God for the red, flashing applause sign. As they clapped
and the commercials rolled, I sat with a sharp pain in my neck.
I tried to cough it away, but it didn't work. I ran my fingers
across the scar around my neck. I can still feel Lizzy's knife
as it slides around my throat.
The cameras all come back on, and the host is seated on a stool
ready to give his final thought.
"Today we looked at women out for retribution from their
cheating husbands. Today's guests were extreme examples. These
women all let their emotions get the best of them, and viciously
attacked their husbands, sometimes scarring or maiming them for
life. But, do these men not deserve some sort of punishment for
their gallivanting."
He looked over to the panel, "I want to thank all my guests
for being here today." Then, he turned solemnly back to the
main camera, "and remember, be good to one another." |
