by Walter Marks
The woman was lying on a pinewood bed, reading Vanity Fair by the light of a bedside lamp. Its soft pink bulb made her look like a shining angel — no, more like the Good Fairy, with long blond hair, and an air of sweetness radiating from her lovely face.
Now for the part he loved best. The entrance.
“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.”
She looked up and her mouth fell open.
“I will not shoot you if you do what I say. Disobey me and you’re dead. Nod your head if you understand.”
The woman’s head moved up and down like a bobble head doll. Her eyes widened as he took out two sets of handcuffs.
“My husband will be — ”
“I told you to shut up. Your husband flew into the city this afternoon. I saw him get on the plane.”
The intruder enjoyed her look of dismay. He could read her mind — My God. He’s planned all this in advance. He’s going to do whatever he wants. Then he’ll kill me. Maybe — maybe if I just cooperate, he’ll let me live. That’s my only hope. Try to play along, give in. Survive.
“All right, Susannah, or perhaps I should say, um, Sweetie, since we’ll soon be on intimate terms — ”
Jesus, he even knows my name.
“Please put your hands up on either side of the headboard. That’s good, Sweetie.”
He handcuffed Susannah’s wrists to the bed, just below the wooden ball finials. She looked perfect, her arms stretched out like a pitiful supplicant.
He placed his gun on a bureau. From his pocket he pulled out a roll of duct tape, slipped it over his index finger, and twirled it.
“I prefer not to gag you,” he said, “because what I’m about to do may provoke groans of pleasure, which I would enjoy hearing. But scream for help and you will suffer in ways you cannot imagine. Clear?”
Susannah nodded.
“Let’s dispense with this fiddle music,’” he said, turning off the CD player near her bed.
The intruder took hold of the summer-weight cotton quilt and slowly pulled it off her. She was naked except for her rose-patterned white panties. She had a dancer’s body; small breasts, muscled belly, narrow hips, and long, elegant legs suggesting both grace and power.
He looked at her with admiration, then hooked his fingers over the top of her panties.
“Raise up,” he said. “...Do it!”
Hesitantly she lifted her pelvis so he could maneuver the panties under her buttocks and down over her hips.
He went to the foot of the bed and spread apart Susannah’s tense but unresisting thighs.
Bending over, he stuck out his tongue and formed it into a delicate point.
She shuddered and moaned in disgust.
Then he began.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Walter Marks is a novelist, playwright, and songwriter. Besides his Broadway shows — “Bajour” and “Golden Rainbow”, off-Broadway he wrote the score and book for the award winning “Langston in Harlem” (lyrics by Langston Hughes). His best known song is “I’ve Gotta be Me”, recorded by Sammy Davis, Michael Jackson, Tony Bennett, Ella Fitzgerald, among others. He also wrote the screenplay and songs for “The Wild Party” (Merchant-Ivory Films) directed by James Ivory. He is an Emmy winner for the PBS series “Getting On.”
His current project is a musical incorporating the songs of lyricist/composer Johnny Mercer into a book show called “Accentuate the Positive”, Mr. Marks has written the libretto.
His novels include “Death Hampton” and “The Battle of Jericho.“
He lives and works in both Manhattan and East Hampton.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks to Marsha Brooks, Esq. and Larry Brooks for their support, Brisa Trinchero and Roberta Pereira for their know-how and guidance, Helen O'Reilly for being a driving force, and Henry Morrison for giving me my start.
Top Tier Lit
www.toptierlit.com
New York, NY
2014
