Blue Macabre

by J. W. DeBrock

  He felt bored. He worked his way back to the kitchen where he eased Jenny’s keys from the rack by the door, overly cautious with his movements as the bourbon retained its grip. A notion surfaced to let them know he was leaving, but he heard Jen giggle and moan and he pivoted back out the door.

  He weaved his way out to the SUV, stumbling the last couple of steps and bracing himself against the hood. As he reached for the door handle, nature called. Going back inside didn’t appeal; facing away from the vehicle he unzipped and tried to withdraw his penis. A couple of seconds passed before he registered he couldn’t pull it out; he looked down and with amazement realized it was stuck.

  Chuckling, he yanked down his jeans, letting them fall around his knees. Even through his haze his eyes opened wide when he saw the size of himself. He wrapped his hand around it and was surprised by its weight. “Fucking thing must have gained three pounds,” he said aloud, laughing. Playing with it, each time he moved it even slightly he was charged. He aimed for a nearby bush, pleased with himself when he cleared what he felt was quite a distance. Letting his penis drop, he backed up a couple of steps and startled himself by backing up against the cold metal of the fender. Inside the vehicle he started the engine and swerved out of the driveway, cautious to not spin gravel as he jerked onto the pavement.

  He drove into the night, seeing two of each road sign he passed and four yellow lines down the middle of the road. A couple of vehicles passed him but he managed to steer straight, avoiding collision and cautioning himself not to be stopped. He laughed aloud as he remembered that half of the nearest police force was currently fucking his sister. Up ahead on the left a well-lit area caught his eye; he checked it out but realized with disinterest that it was only the market and gas station. “Nah,” he said aloud. The only package in the whole store worth a second look is asleep back at the house. He pulled off to turn around, and his headlights illumined the front windows of the restaurant across the road. The thought of hot coffee suddenly appealed and he buzzed across the lanes, parking by the front door.

  He got out and steadied himself against the fender, peering through the windows. The place appeared empty but the OPEN sign was still lit. He composed himself and stepped back to read the lettering on the door advertising their hours. With effort he refocused his eyes to his watch and saw half an hour remained until closing. He swung open the door and walked in, a model of self-control.

  Sally sucked in her breath when she saw him. She was winding up her double shift and closing alone. She stood holding a towel as he rounded the counter and seated himself on a stool. He said, “Hi, saw you were open and felt the need for somethin’ soberin’.” Through bleary eyes he identified the person he was speaking to and smiled. “Sally? What’re you doin’ here this late?”

  She smiled. “Well what’cha doing out this late yourself?” She stepped up to face him, the counter between, twisting the towel in her hands.

  “Well let’s just say I needed to get out of the house for a while due to privacy issues.” He rested his arms on the counter, leaning on them and looking at her through bloodshot eyes.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She set a mug on the counter and filled it. He watched her as she watched him. She said “S’cuse me just a minute, okay?” and hurried into the rear of the kitchen where a small mirror hung over the employee’s hand sink. Quickly she scrutinized her hair, face, makeup. She frowned a bit at her reflection, then forced a smile and checked that. As she returned to him she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the stool beside. She took a sip. “Ah, it’s been a long damn day. Cook made me work a double again.”

  “Sorry to hear that. That’s no way for a lady to spend her evening.”

  “Well – lady or not, I dunno . . . but I can think of better ways to spend my night.” She winked at him as she took another sip.

  The crooked half-smile stole across his face.

  He drained his cup, then stood up and stretched with a yawn. “Man! I think the coffee helped a little. Thanks!” He swung his arms back and forth a couple of times and then rested one of his hands on her shoulder. “Don’t you have to close up in a little bit?”

  “Yeah.” Her hand shook as she set her mug back down on the counter, spilling a few drops of coffee.

  He drew close to her, giving her a small kiss on the back of her neck. “Hey,” he said into her ear. “Let’s go in the back.” He helped her off the stool and led her by the hand into the recesses of the kitchen.

  “Would you do me a favor?”

  She smiled.

  “Take off your apron.”

  She stood before him and with slow motions undid the rear ties of the apron, slipping the top strap over her head. She hung it on a nearby hook.

  He looked out through the front door and windows. Seeing no danger of interruption, he came to her, pulling her close for a kiss. He felt her weaken into his arms as he held her, kissing, nuzzling her neck.

  Salty

  Then he held her at his arm’s length and traced the design of her Harley Davidson t-shirt, tracing the outlines of the pattern across her breasts and belly.

  “You know,” he said softly, “I’ve always wanted to ride one of those.”

  Chapter Six

  Chris towered over her, six-four to five-foot-six; he pulled her close and held her. “What kind of ride would you give me?” He pressed his pelvis against her belly, entwining his fingers through her hair. They kissed again, this time longer and harder.

  Abruptly he pushed her off, smiling. “Isn’t it about time to shut this place down?” He walked back to the dining room, leaving her standing alone. She frowned as she trailed him. “Wanna go get some beer, maybe ride around?” He drummed his fingers on the counter.

  “Yeah, okay. I still gotta close up.”

  “No problem, I’ll wait.” He headed around to the restroom. She watched him walk off, and reached for a wet rag to wipe down the counters. Her hand trembled a little.

  He barely made it through the door of the toilet. He’d pulled open his jeans as he rounded the corner and as he aimed at the urinal the rush was smooth and gratifying. As before, he was left holding another erection. He stroked it a couple of times and the sensation sent chills up his back. He shut his eyes and leaned against the wall. After a few moments he stuffed himself back into his jeans and then looked at himself in the dimly lit mirror. His eyes seemed deeply blue but his besotted brain simply accepted them and the rest of him as exceptional and he felt positively charged.

  When he returned to her she’d dimmed the lights, grabbed her jacket, and waited by the front door. As he joined her he slipped his arm around her waist, tugging her close, kissing her neck. She pulled back – but he held her tightly and ran his tongue up and down the side of her neck.

  salty

  “Hey, not right here, okay?”

  He sighed with a childish pout. “Okay.”

  Once she locked up, he escorted her and then opened her door. Before he closed it he bent inside and kissed her again. As he pressed her she squirmed a bit – but he felt her relax as he thrust his tongue forward. Hormones were taking control.

  They crossed the road and went into the grocery. The clerk on duty was one of Sally’s neighbors from her trailer park. She watched with interest as Chris set a carton of beer on the counter. To Sally she said, “Saw Jim in here a few hours ago. Did you see him over there today?” she nodded toward the Village. “He didn’t look overly happy.” She rang up the purchase and accepted some cash from Chris.

  Sally sent Chris out to the vehicle. “Be right there.” She leaned toward her friend. “Yeah, I saw the bastard. Told him to leave me the hell alone – again.” She bent closer and said beneath her breath, “Wouldn’ Jim just shit if he saw me with him?” She nodded Chris’s way.

  She bounced out to the SUV and waved to her friend through the window as she climbed in.

  He popped the top of a beer for each of them. “
Kind of chilly tonight – drink your anti-freeze.” She accepted the bottle, and looked at him. He waited. She closed her eyes and upended the bottle, chugging it halfway empty. He smiled and opened another, starting the motor as he drained his own. She stifled a belch and giggled.

  They headed out the Spirit Lake highway east; eight or nine miles from town he veered off onto a gravel road. He put on some music, the kind he liked to hear when in the mood to party. Jenny’s vehicle had a custom system and he cranked the volume, bass from the speakers pounding through the seats. As he saw her finish her beer, he stopped the vehicle in the middle of the road and retrieved two more from the carton. Small talk wasn’t possible with the noise, but he kept his hand on her leg, their horomones carrying on a silent conversation.

  Music drifted through the forest as they passed through. She grew more and more relaxed, and another couple of miles and she’d begun her own exploration. The road wound through shallow foothills; she laughed as he swerved the SUV and she fell against him. He turned down the music and asked her if she’d heard the old Bigfoot legends, indigenous to the area. She giggled. “Think Bigfoot has a big dick?”

  He grinned. “Who the fuck knows? Probably has big everything.” They passed a turnout, and he stopped the car with a lurch beside it. “Gotta go again. Shit.”

  He left the car running; when he’d been out more than a couple of minutes she also got out and stumbled around the side. She came upon him as he was zipping up, and fell into his arms with a laugh. “Wish you’d put that where it’d do some good,” she said with a slur.

  He propped her up in his arms, against the vehicle. She rested her head on his chest but he grasped her hair and held her head so he could look directly into her eyes. “I do intend to do just that.” He held her fast. Her ready smile faded.

  He helped her back into her seat.

  After nearly twenty miles and most of the beer he pulled into the place he’d been looking for – not knowing if it even still existed. An abandoned construction site remained far beneath the base of the bridge it had built. A couple of listing office trailers remained with windows broken out, a portable concrete plant, and fragmented skeletons of forms and building materials. The span of the bridge was nearly half a mile long, three hundred feet high at its apex. Looking up at it from the base of one of its giant pylons was more than enough to facilitate a nasty sinking feeling. It spanned Johnson Creek, a small tributary draining Coldwater Lake, both bodies of water having been formed decades earlier by the devastating eruption of the volcano.

  The bridge had been opened to traffic by the State of Washington, extending the once-obliterated Spirit Lake Highway to again access the interior of the Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument. The restored asphalt on either side of the bridge connected several breathtaking views, overlooks, and visitor centers. Deserted this time of night, absent of families with curious children or tourists passing through, the huge black bulk of the bridge proved perfectly isolated and ruggedly stimulating to him.

  He parked out of sight of the road and bridge within the confines of the concrete plant. “Let’s get out.” He grabbed two bottles and hopped out; they met at the rear and he handed her one, again goading her into chugging it.

  “I’m kinda full, y’know?” she mumbled.

  “Come on, baby.” He toyed with her hair. “Give me a good show.” He massaged her neck and shoulders. “Be a good girl and drink up. Party with me.”

  She upended the beer, drinking it half down. Putting her hand over her mouth, she belched and then hiccupped, giggling. He buried his face in her neck and she moaned as he licked her and kissed her ear. “Do the rest, baby. Do me.”

  She struggled to drain the bottle. Standing behind her as she drank, he held the front of her throat gently but firmly with his hand, feeling her swallow. He pressed the fingers of his other hand into her crotch and began to rub. The empty bottle slipped from her grasp.

  “Let’s see what else I can do for you,” he offered. He propped her against the side of the car, pushed her jacket back from her shoulders and pulled it from her arms. “Make you more comfortable.” With a fluid motion he grabbed the neck of her tee, easily tearing the fabric.

  Her bleary eyes could barely follow. “Hey! Y’didn hafta do that!”

  “Don’t worry,” he crooned. “I’ll replace it.” He slipped the rag from her shoulders, and snapped the center of her bra. He fondled her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples as she squirmed. The weight of her flesh incensed him; he stooped to press his face into them. “Ow!” she cried as he sucked and pushed and pulled.

  salty

  please Chris

  lick me baby

  noplease

  She clutched at his hair.

  chris it hurts

  salty warm

  no please

  yeah baby

  She writhed against the vehicle and jumped as exposed skin connected with chilly metal. “Hey!” She yanked him off by his hair.

  “What?”

  “I’m cold.”

  “Okay – we’ll finish this inside.” She grabbed what was left of her shirt and covered herself with her jacket.

  He opened the back hatch and unlatched the rear seat, designed for easy removal. He set it on the ground beside the vehicle and spread out the blankets Jenny always kept stowed away. Sally stood and watched him, her arms crossed over her breasts, holding the jacket closed.

  He presented her the nice little nest. He helped her up into the back; she slipped out of the rest of her clothes and covered herself with a side of blanket as he went around to the driver’s side, got in, and started the motor and heater. He drained yet another beer, then shut down the motor and asked, “Warm now?”

  “Yeah. Get your ass back here.”

  He hopped out and yanked off his clothes, then climbed in through the back. He pulled the door shut and lay down on his side, his knees drawn up and spread apart, facing her. She cuddled with him in the cramped space. “I’ve got what you need, baby.” He grabbed her hand and cupped his balls with it. “Hold me.”

  In the dim moonlight he raised his eyes to look at her face. “Fuck me.”

  She stared, her eyes riveted to his.

  His eyes glowed brilliantly blue.

  She could not look away; he would not release her stare.

  fuck me Donna

  no more please

  yes

  no nomore

  love you

  please stopplease

  cant

  He pushed her blanket aside. She lay mortified as the hold of his eyes over her intensified. He grabbed her and clutched her breast, and she recoiled. Opening her mouth, no sound escaped. He squeezed her harshly and groped his way over her breasts, painfully. Each tiny spot that his fingertips touched produced a minute, rosy burn. She moaned without words and her eyes filled with tears.

  no Chris

  cant stop now

  no pleeeeeease

  He jostled and turned her, forcing her onto her hands and knees, shoving her legs apart. His fingers prodded her belly and breasts, welts soon covering her in a painful map. She gasped as he thrust three of his fingers at once inside her, and she cried out as he turned them round and in and out.

  hold still

  not there

  licking and sucking

  salty

  He worked her flesh unforgivingly. He yanked out his fingers and shoved them in again. She tried to move but he held her fast. She moaned deep in her throat as he thrust inside her repeatedly, reveling in the intense heat they were generating. As he prodded and explored his penis throbbed; tiny white lights danced in his vision.

  She screamed.

  salty

  tasty

  He kneeled behind her, shoved her legs apart again, and for a moment shut his eyes. She screamed again and he used one hand to clutch the softness of her belly at her hips, and then grasped his dick with his other hand and rammed it into her.

  stop


  no fucking way

  salty

  She screamed as he thrust into her over and over, tearing the soft walls of her insides. She struggled and cried as he held her hips and pounded. Their legs soon became sticky with blood. Close to orgasm, he anchored his feet against the rear door, wedging her head against the front seat. Agonizing through his last painful thrusts, her cervix ruptured. With his final surge his screams joined hers, a delicious pain flooding his entirety. The blankets were soaked with semen and blood.