The Last Supper

The sun shone through the kitchen window bright and warm leaving little spots that danced on the counter when the curtains moved in the breeze. She stood there, washing the morning dishes up and smiling all the while at what she had planned.

A dinner. A nice evening dinner with lemon and garlic rack of lamb cooked just right. He would want honey glazed carrots, porcini mushroom risotto, white chocolate soufflé and a very nice bottle of Sang des Cailloux  1991. She licked her lips unconsciously in anticipation of this very special evening.

She thought back, years ago to the very first time she had met him. Marcus was that tall lanky brown haired boy that seemed shy and overwhelmed until you got to know him. He was a few grades ahead of her, but she would always make an effort to bump into him accidently of course, going through the crowded hallway at school. She watched as he flirted with Sandra Mckowski at lunch, and saw green when he kissed Mary Simmons near her locker after the school bell had rung.

She would fantasize about him during art class, drawing him nude in her mind and loving the deft way he had of showing her just how hard his body could really be. She would drop the brush, disrobe her frock revealing nothing underneath, and deliberately walk toward him, hips shimmying, her chest rising with each deep breath she took. She would then straddle the surprised but waiting Kevin, opening herself up to him, feeling him within her hot wet self, his hardness filling her completely up. Her hands would run through his long brown hair, as she stared into the pools of azure that was his eyes.  He would hold her close, as her body rose and fell upon him.

She signed audibly at her teenage dreams. How juvenile they all seemed to her now.  She wrote him notes only to tear them up before she grew the nerve to send them. She walked by his house just to wave at him while he was mowing the lawn always shirtless and sweaty.

The day he first spoke to her though…that would be forever engrained into her mind. It was not expected, and the exact opposite of what she’d always dreamed it would be like. She was at the football game bored out of her mind, and reading a romance novel…he had been sitting behind her cheering on the home team when the quarterback got slam tackled on the 40 yard line. Everyone jumped up but her, until. She felt the ice cold liquid hit her back like a bucket of water. She caught her breath, jumped up and turned around to see him staring wide eyed and shocked at what just occurred.  

He jumped down from his seat, pulled off his shirt and commenced to shove it over her head. As he did without uttering a word, his hands came up underneath the shirt he’d just put on her, to unbutton her blouse and swiftly pull it off her wet backside. Grinning, he then took her arms and put them through the holes, as if he’d dressed and undressed girls in this manner before.

She stood there in silence, trying to take in this 30 second display of…what could she have called it? Chivalry? Forwardness? She went to speak but before she could he went on to explain, “So so sorry pet! My bad! I get all wonky when it comes to stupid plays like that, and I do hope you forgive me my transgression that poured down your…back.”

There she was everything and everyone faded into the background save but his bare chested body. He was smiling down at her, a glimmer of hope showing in his eyes that she wouldn’t tear into him, knock him over the other bleachers or nut punch him. This was it she thought as the warmth of his hands still lingered on her cold arms. This is where she needed to whisper excitedly that it was fine no harm it would wash out oh by the bye my name is…and I’ve wanted to kiss those lips of yours for so long…but what was voiced was: “Yeah well, next time watch your transwhatchamacallits and be a bit more careful! That was my new blouse!”

She snarled her lip, gave him the stank eye and moved over a couple of feet from the now wet and cold seat. She reached over, took her blouse and wrung out the Coke and laid it under her feet.

It was his turn to stand there for a moment in stunned silence. Okay, given the fact he thought, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea of ripping her shirt right off her and copping a feel on the way out of it..

But still…he had tried doing the gentlemanly thing by offering up his shirt to cover her. The wind was cold, Fall had come and anyone could catch a really bad sniffle being out in the damp night air soaking wet from a Coke.

He went to say something, opening and then closing his mouth like a fish. She started to giggle and before she knew it, fits of giggles has exploded into the atmosphere. He grinned sheepishly, goose bumps rising on his arms, as his bare nipples began to harden.

She rolled her eyes at him thinking. Now or never…and motioned for him to sit down next to her in a dry spot.

That was the beginning.

There were good times, quiet times she lay in his arms watching the stars dance in the heavens. Other times their passion was unleashed like the fury of a hurricane. The devastation that followed a bout of lovemaking was always akin to Katrina, as nothing survived in the wake of the moment. There were silent walks along the sandy beaches, picnics out away from the crowds. From the time she’d been a teenager, she had loved him….

He grew to think of this slight pixie like girl as his best friend. She was always there always waiting like a small Persian kitty ready to pounce at the slightest hint of catnip. He loved her humor and strength as well as her frailty and uncertainty. She could be one more hell cat when provoked but then again he could find her crying her eyes out in a corner and not knowing why. She intrigued him, made him think and contemplate about things he never would have before. She taught him the meaning of the smallest nuances of life and showed him just how big the ‘big’ picture could really be.

So, for the life of him, Marcus could not understand why he ran from her.  She could be fire and ice calm and storm alive and dead all at the same time and it scared him. She that leaf of a girl scared the mortal shit right out of him.

Years passed, and with that their love grew deeper or shallower depending on the weather and time change. Marcus ran hot and cold more than the Titans locker room showers. There were other women, but it seemed that he always found his way back to her.

She mixed the ingredients carefully for the soufflé’. The lamb was in the other stove, and she had to be careful with the dessert so as not to cave it in with one wrong move.

She went to the fridge and brought out the bottle of wine, smiling, she sat it down on the counter in front of her.  She opened the cabinet drawer and produced an eighteen gauge syringe. She popped the plastic safety from the needle and stared at it for just a split second before plunging it with immense glee into the cork of the wine. She pulled it back out, and plunged again, much like a killer with a knife, she repeated this action a few more times before placing the syringe back in the drawer.

She looked at the wall clock. She had to start getting ready, he would arrive in a few hours.

Marcus was excited about the dinner. It had been a long time, and his life had been living hell lately. Deals had gone awry, his girlfriend in Cali decided to go Lesbian and he was to the point of just ending it all when the call came from Tristin International that they loved his work and wanted to hire him on as CEA he jumped at the chance.  A sign on bonus of twenty thousand and a six figure a year salary was something he had long waited on. Now, finally, his dreams could start coming true.

She came to mind in his celebratory stupor. How would she feel if he asked her to go away with him? He knew how things were at home with her a loveless marriage mundane job no end to the drudgery. But she chose that life and he couldn’t stop her as much as he wanted to. He had been with her the whole time through all of it, the liaisons, back seat rendezvous and the occasional bring the token girlfriend over for dinner with her family.   

But now was the time. He could now give her all the things he’d ever dreamed of. He could take her away like she had always wanted her Prince Charming to do. She would forgive him his sins, and they would make wild passionate love in the candlelit bedroom. The shadows would dance and sway as the music played on the stereo. Her body would glisten and glimmer with sweat beads, as he would fondle and caress her naked body, kissing every inch of her lusciousness. Bloody hell, he was getting a hard on just thinking about tonight. He stripped off his sweatpants, turned on the water in the shower and jumped in humming a A7 song…

She sat before the vanity studying herself intently. What happened to the dreams and vocations she had? Gone with the Wind she supposed and yes tomorrow would be another day and all that rubbish and rot. She applied her make up with the precision  of a surgeon  blending eyeshadow for just that smoky effect she wanted over her eyes. Her lashes were long, and didn’t take much mascara on them. She chose glimmer purple, and brushed on just a small amount of radiant gold onto her soft skin.

Her dress was pure sex material, deep royal purple with rhinestones dotting the fabric. It sparkled and shone like diamonds even in the dim light of the makeup room. It was low cut enough to show a peek a boo cleavage but covered enough to leave to the imagination. She shook her head, not like he hadn’t seen her naked before, but she always loved the act of pretending.

She donned her black stiletto heels, strapped and buckled them up around her ankles. She lit the long tapered red candles that dotted the bedroom and put on a soft romantic cd that would replay until ready to use. The stage was set, she was ready …now if only the leading man would show….