For another fifteen minutes she lay in bed, restlessly stirring, breathing heavily and wishing so badly to be man-handled by Alex. It was 12:20 am and much, too late for a call to a plumber. But then Alex did emphasize answering her call day or night. Shivering from nervousness, she finally arose from bed and pulled Alex's business card that was buried at the bottom of her lingerie drawer. Amber quietly descended the stairs to the main level. She was so crazy for following through with the plan. This is what she continued to remind herself while further descending into the basement, where she entered the utility closet and closed the incoming valve to the hot water heater. Finally, Amber reached for the phone and called her plumber, mentioning a sudden loss of hot water.
Wearing nothing but one of Linsey's summer nightgowns, Amber stood outside at the entryway of the Dickly castle, and waited for the arrival of Alex the plumber. As he pulled into the oversized, horseshoe driveway, Amber imagined his headlights shining light through the material of her nightgown and revealing secret treasures that beckoned for his play.
“Good evening! You lost hot water, again?”
Suddenly, Amber was pulled out of her desperate fantasy and realized that she summoned a man into her home and showed obvious intention to be seduced. She was in trouble, now! “Yes, I'm sorry. It stopped working, again.”
“Well didn't you show your husband the incoming valve?”
“He's not home…” Uh-oh! Why did Amber reveal this to the plumber? She was going to have to keep her mouth shut as much as possible and quickly escort him out of the house once the problem had been resolved.
Once inside the house, Amber took notice of his more-than four o'clock shadow. Obviously, Alex hadn't shaven since yesterday morning which further added to his sex appeal. But Amber was too frightened, nearly trembling at her realization of stupidity. What was wrong with Amber? She should have completed her lonely moment under the covers and then forgot about the plumber like any good wife does.
The most obvious thing was to be checked, first. Alex whispered, realizing others may have been sleeping, “Well, let's take a look at your hot water heater.”
In nothing but Linsey's summer nightgown, Amber escorted Alex down the stairs. Does a woman have any idea how irresistible she looks in a nearly-transparent nightgown? Going on three weeks without sex from his own wife, Alex just about exploded in his pants at the sight of Amber's shapely buttocks that rocked, twisted and jiggled while walking ahead.
Amber could feel the predatory instincts from behind. She needed to get Alex out of the house as quickly as possible! “Oh, stupid me! I just remembered! I bet that valve is closed. I should have checked it before I gave you a call.”
“I bet it is.” Alex coldly replied.
Amber reached in the utility closet and opened the valve. “There, I fixed it. I'm sorry for bothering you.” The silhouette of her naked breasts and nipples pushed through Linsey's nightgown. Amber's flushed face with crazed eyes and nearly-swollen lips said everything in opposite for Alex to leave.
“Let me just make sure you turned it in the right direction. Sometimes people get confused.” Alex approached the utility room which brought him closer to Amber. “Here, let me show you something.” He took hold of Amber's delicate wrist and pulled it towards the incoming valve of the hot water heater. “Always remember, you turn left to open it and right to close it.” He placed her hand on the valve while keeping his own on top. Then he slowly guided Amber's trembling grip on the valve. “There's an old saying I remember. Lefty-loosey… righty-tighty… lefty-loosey… righty-tighty.”
If Alex's motion and voice wasn't hinting towards sensual, then his other hand that rested on Amber's tail bone, soon to be her buttocks, gave clear indication of what was to happen next.
All female species in the animal kingdom play a similar game. They hide in secluded areas in heat, dripping with an overpowering desire to be taken by a male. She comes out of hiding for a brief moment and shakes her tail in a male suitor's face. But then instinctively she becomes frightened and runs away to hide. “I wasn't coming on to you! I wasn't trying to communicate anything to you! You imagined those signals.” She'll deny everything, of course.
But sometimes an unfortunate female will find herself alone and cornered with her male suitor. In this moment, the game is over. Trembling and nearly hyperventilating, her resistance only adds to the rapture.
It had been some years since Amber experienced a young man her own age. Alex's body was so hard and strong; and, unlike Michael, Alex was ready from the moment the nightgown was aggressively pulled off. With her body pushed against the hot water heater, Amber's resisting arms were merely a way of gauging and admiring the plumber's strength. Alex was so damn strong and there was no fighting off what he wanted. Amber's fragile hands were simply held against the pipes while his shadowy whiskers coarsely grazed across her delicate neck as the plumber devoured the scrumptious, little lady with hot kisses. The kisses were the only thing needed for Amber to finally surrender.
Soon escorted to the center of the basement, Amber found herself next lying propped up against the basement bar. In those moments, she couldn't help but realize that this is what she needed for so long. How glad Amber was, finally, to have given her plumber a late night call.
Although tonight was everything she ever wished for, Amber couldn't help but realize that she would need much more. Many wives have a secret friend to care for those needs that a husband can't fulfill. Perhaps it was best to elevate the new relationship with Alex to a friendship and get to know him. “My husband is out of town for the week. Actually, he's on the road a lot. Why don't you come over tomorrow night for a late dinner and some drinks? Get to know each other, you know?”
Alex paused for a moment. Feeling guilty of his first, ever, intimate moment with a customer—not to mention his first moment of infidelity—it was difficult to receive Amber's suggestion as a good idea. But then reasoning soon took over. Sex was had maybe once every six weeks between Alex and his wife. Not only that, closeness and communication was becoming increasingly difficult in his marriage; due to Alex's, wife's bitterness. Why shouldn't he have accepted a new friend who just so happened to enjoy occasional sex? Amber's suggestion was probably the best thing Alex heard in weeks.
“Sure, you want me to wait until your kids go down for the night. Just give me another late night, emergency call. You're right; we should get to know each other.”
* * *
The Dickly castle was a huge home and a place one could easily entertain a guest. But there was a small problem when it came to Amber entertaining a secret lover late at night. Neither Trista nor Paulette should have been aware of the strange man in the home—definitely not Paulette, for obvious reasons. But the solution was simple as the Dickly castle had a large basement that was an impressive living area, fully carpeted and finished with elaborate furnishings and full bar. On Alex and Amber's “first real date”, they sat downstairs at the bar, enjoying carryout Chinese and mixed drinks. And although only their first date, Amber and Alex were already the best-of-friends.
Loosened up from a couple drinks, Amber began to speak of her domestic problems. “I don't have anything against her. I mean I love Paulette like my own daughter, but it's time consuming to have to take care of her. Trista needs attention, too, and sometimes I just need a break from caring for an invalid. Some days I just want to leave her up there.—you know? She can go a day without a bath.”
Alex agreed, “Absolutely! She should be able to understand that.”
Amber continued, “The last time my husband went away, I told Paulette that the wheelchair lift wasn't working—just a little white lie. Maybe it was too obvious that it suddenly started working on the day my husband came home. But that little bitch had to tell her father. He got all bent out of shape and in my face that the wheelchair lift was fine.” Amber sighed. “Sometimes I just want to get away.—you know? I've been pretty much confined to this house ever since I met my husband.
We go away on trips as a family, but when was the last time Michael and I just went away, the two of us? Never!”
Towards the end of Amber's rant, Alex gently took her hand and stroked his thumb against it. Then he concluded the conversation with, “Yeah, sometimes you just need a little break from it all. I feel the same way. I guess that's why people like you and me make friends. And thanks to your huge bar down here, we can definitely get away—if you know what I mean.” Alex winked while reaching for both their glasses and then poured another round of drinks for him and Amber.
“Isn't your wife going to notice you coming home, smelling like booze?”
“Nah! She won't care! Even if she does say something, I'll just tell her that the customer was some old man who mixed up a few drinks once the job was done.”
About another half hour of drinking, lively talking and laughter went by. Amber hadn't loosened up like this since before she met Michael. Alex was truly a wonderful person to have in her life, even if she had just met the man. Amber's face was numb and the words just poured out, nearly stuttering and slurring. But as far as Amber could determine, she was hiding her drunkenness quite well. And then she began to speak more of Paulette. “I just wish I knew of some way to sabotage that darn wheelchair lift. I've had so much to drink; I might not want to deal with her in the morning.”
Alex took a final gulp of his mixed drink and then reached over to the refrigerator for a beer-chaser. “You want to know how to break that wheelchair lift so that it's convincing to your husband?”
Amber sat motionless for a split second with a beaming smile on her face. In her stillness, one could notice that she was heavily buzzed as evidenced by the slight dizzying motion of her neck. Amber giggled, “Get out of here! Are you serious? You know how to break that thing?”
Alex took a hearty swig from his bottle of beer and then set it on the bar. Halfcocked and loaded with confidence, he was a real boy scout that earned more than his share of merits in life. You know the type. “I can get that thing to malfunction and make it look like we didn't do it. But what's in it for me?” He knew the night would end in his favor, regardless. But Alex wished to up the ante, make it feel as though he rightfully earned the night's end.
Amber slowly circumnavigated the glass with her finger and smiled seductively. “We'll just have to see about that.”
Rest assured, Alex and Amber were as quiet as mice when upstairs—at least they thought this. Perhaps they should have finished the party for the night in the basement while allowing the booze to wear off. With a good handle on their drunkenness, the two nearly staggered across the foyer, and Amber fell into Alex's toolbox which made a loud rattle. The drunken mishap was followed by giggles. The noise was loud enough to awaken Paulette, who now lay in bed, attempting to gauge the activities downstairs.
She listened carefully while piecing together the scene. A man's voice who was not Father's was eager to play with the wheelchair lift. “Wait! I want to ride it down the stairs. I've always wanted to try this.” Amber could be heard giggling while the wheelchair lift motor softly hummed. Obviously the strange man was riding it down the stairs, then back up again.
“Can this thing go faster?”
Amber giggled, “Faster?”
“Yeah, you can make it go fast and eject her out the window.”
Amber giggled all the louder as if her sides were about to split.
Alex quickly shushed her, reminding Amber that Paulette was in the next room. Then he whispered, “We should really bring this thing to the bottom of the stairs so we don't wake anyone up.”
Once at the bottom level, Alex carefully examined the wheelchair lift, in particular, the area that appeared to receive main power. It was covered by a large, metal plate that was secured by a dozen screws.
Alex had just the tool in his large box. Like any real man, Alex had only the best: a high-powered, Makita, cordless drill with Philips bit to remove the screws. Alex was definitely the man Amber needed to know. And he was definitely the man qualified to tamper with a wheelchair lift, as everyone knows that a plumber is an expert on matters pertaining to electricity. Not only that, Alex could disable the wheelchair lift and make it look as though no one tampered with it.
He placed the bit at the first screw head. But the drunken fool that he was, Alex held the drill at an angle and firmly pressed the trigger. It only resulted in a rattling, stripping noise that widened the head of the screw. The head was now close to impossible to accommodate any kind of bit or screwdriver.
“Son of a… I stripped the screw head.” But Alex could get around this problem. He reached in the tool box for a wide flat blade that barely locked in place of the screw head. With a little elbow grease, he pushed in while turning counterclockwise. “Lefty-loosey… righty-tighty…” All Amber could notice was his mighty biceps flexing as he carefully turned the screw.
Now you think that Alex would have been more careful with the remaining screws. Perhaps he would have put the Makita, cordless drill away and used an old fashioned screwdriver to prevent any further stripping of screws. But he was a man; and no man would bother removing eleven screws by hand. Alex could operate a cordless drill. He could do this!
But just as before, his drunken state caused the drill to be positioned at an angle so that another screw head had been stripped. “Son of a… I did it again!”
In the meantime, Paulette listened carefully from her bed, upstairs. She knew what was happening. Some strange man was tampering with the wheelchair lift.
“I'm going to have to use a regular screwdriver for the rest of 'em.”
Amber watched, nearly drooling, as Alex's mighty biceps continuously rotated the handle of the screwdriver counterclockwise. At some point, she placed her hand on his flexed muscle. She just had to feel it working!
Finally, the last screw had been removed which enabled the plate cover to be taken off. The plumber carefully examined the internal circuitry and determined that shorting the incoming 120 volts would most likely cause significant damage to the circuit board.
Alex warned Amber, “This is where it's going to get dangerous. You might want to step back.” He had just the right tool for this dangerous part of the job. Alex reached for a pair of needle nose pliers that had rubber-gripped handles, and then put on a work glove for extra protection. In all his cleverness, he used the needle nose pliers to short the incoming power at the circuit board. Surely this would cause damage!
And everyone knows how predictable electricity can be! Perhaps Alex calculated that the damage would occur only at the circuit board. But shorting the incoming power caused heavy sparks and an arc that discharged out towards the light, oak, wooden railing and created a burn to the wood!
You really have to hand it to Alex! Stripping the heads of two screws and causing damage; not only to the enclosed circuit board, but the wooden railing as well; certainly made it appear as though the wheelchair lift hadn't been tampered with! And anyone sober enough would further consider that the wheelchair lift had been damaged at the bottom of the stairs while Paulette was in her room. Why would it be downstairs when Paulette was left upstairs?
It was still a job well done for Amber. The plumber closed the metal plate and cleaned up after his work. Then the two went back into the basement where Alex received payment for his night's work.
Chapter Twenty-two
Badly hung over with a throbbing headache, Amber awoke around 10:45 the following morning. This was a good four hours past the usual time when she awoke to care for Paulette. Surely, Paulette would be a bitch this morning. And speaking of Paulette, did the plumber actually blow up the wheelchair lift last night?
Amber jumped out of bed and walked diagonally while adjusting to the dizziness. She had to get downstairs and examine the damage to the wheelchair lift. But then there was Paulette to consider. Being that Paulette was closer, Amber entered her room first.
“Hey…”
Paulette lay in bed with a bitter look.
/> “I know; I slept in late this morning. Sorry! You don't have to look at me that way!” Amber wheeled the crane device over. “Let's get you in the bathroom so you can do your business.” But when pulling back Paulette's covers, Amber discovered that the blankets, bed sheet, a portion of the mattress as well as the lower portion of Paulette's sleepwear were soaking wet. Paulette had urinated in bed, probably in agony and frustration of having to wait longer than usual to use the toilet.
“You peed in your bed? Come on Paulette, I don't feel like dealing with this crap this morning! Why would you do that?”
The look on Paulette's face said, “Sorry, what did you expect me to do?”
“Damn it, anyway!” Amber ripped the blanket and sheet off the bed and threw it on the floor. The smell of fresh urine enveloped the air. “I should really just make you lay there all day in your own pee!” Amber almost mentioned her desire to send Paulette into a nursing home. Instead, she yanked the sheet out from under Paulette and threw it in the collection of urine-soaked bedding. Then she carefully pulled off Paulette's nightwear and added it to the heap on the floor.
“I'm not touching this! Let me go down into the laundry room and get a basket.” No longer dizzy, but in a terrible mood, Amber climbed down the stairs and then stopped in dread at the sight of the wheelchair lift. There along the light, oak railing were several burn marks near the electrical plate. To make matters worse, two screw heads on the plate were noticeably stripped. It was certainly apparent that someone tampered with the wheelchair lift.
“Oh my gosh! What did he do?” How in the world was Amber going to explain this to her husband?
Just then, Trista entered the foyer, munching on a Pop Tart. “Mommy? What were you and that man doing last night?”
The Death Mask Page 17
