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|The Wolf, the Witch and The Dining Room Table (standard:horror, 930 words)|
|Author: Ian Hobson||Added: Feb 18 2006||Views/Reads: 2450/1242||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
The Wolf, the Witch and The Dining Room Table ©2006 Ian Hobson 'Your place or mine?' Damien could hardly believe his luck. He had always thought himself to be irresistible to women but he usually had to work a little harder than this. 'Your place, but we'll take my car.' Sabine finished her cocktail and smiled at Damien as she replaced her glass on the bar. As she reached for her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder, Damien ogled her slim figure and long, slender well-tanned legs. Her age was difficult to guess at. Somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, Damien decided. She slipped off the barstool and, with a wiggle, she adjusted her dress. It was a short, blood-red dress with a high but very wide neckline and long voluminous sleeves with bracelet-like cuffs. Her hair was also red: a fiery but natural red, not quite shoulder length, and it fell in ringlets, framing her stunningly beautiful face. In the half-hour since she had come and sat beside Damien at the bar, the room had become busier, and a few heads turned as the couple left, hand in hand. Outside it was dark but warm. Sabine's car was a Porsche. Money as well as looks, thought Damien. 'Do you drive in those?' he asked, glancing at Sabine's heels; they were very high. 'Can do, but I mostly drive barefoot. Get in.' Sabine walked around the car, opened the door, slid in behind the wheel, kicked off her sling-backs and started the engine. Damien climbed in beside her, unable to keep his eyes off her legs as the hem of her dress rode up. She took his hand and placed it on her inner thigh and then, looking him in the eye, she reached across and pressed her fingers against his crotch. 'Which way?' Damien had to swallow before replying. He was unaccustomed to having his 'credentials' check out in such a blatant way. 'Err, straight ahead, then left at the next junction.' He had already decided to take her to his brother's house; more impressive than his own and closer. His brother and family were away in Florida. Damien was keeping an eye on the place. Sabine withdrew her hand, engaged the gearshift and stepped on the accelerator. She drove as though speed limits did not apply to her and the journey took only a few minutes. She stopped the engine and slipped her shoes back on, then leaned over to kiss Damien, again fondling his crotch. 'Lead on, big boy.' Damien put his arm around Sabine's waist as they climbed the steps to the front of the house, and Sabine giggled as Damien fumbled with the keys and unlocked the door and felt for the light-switch. Once inside, they kissed again but more passionately; this time Damien did the fondling. Then, with his arm around her, he tried to lead Sabine towards the staircase. But Sabine had other ideas. 'What's in here,' she said, grasping Damien's belt buckle and pulling him towards the rear of the house. The door to the dining room was wide open and illuminated by light from the hallway. Sabine could see a long and well-polished hardwood table surrounded by eight hardwood chairs. She guided Damien into the room and towards the table. 'First things first.' She released Damien then dragged a chair out from the head of the table and pushed it to one side. Then she opened her purse, took out a condom and carefully tore open its foil wrapper and placed it on the chair beside her purse. 'Wouldn't we be more comfortable upstairs?' Damien asked. 'Don't be boring. This will be much more fun.' Sabine turned back to Damien, unfastened his shirt buttons and pushed his shirt off his shoulders before attacking his belt buckle and zip. He struggled to free his arms from his shirt until it fell to the floor. 'Kick off your shoes.' Click here to read the rest of this story (29 more lines)
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