I sat at the table, wondering what was taking her so long. She has always been here ahead of me, this was very unusual.
Suddenly she sat down across from me and took my hands in hers.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, "but I think someone was following me. I had to take some detours to throw them off."
"Are you sure you ditched them? What makes you think you were being followed?"
"I don't know, just a feeling I guess. Ron has been acting strange lately."
"Are you sure you lost him, "I asked.
"Yes, nobody followed me here." She replied.
They sat in a dark booth at the rear of the lounge, the table lit only by candles at each end of the table. It was the same booth where they always mett, right across the street from the hotel they always went to.
"I don't understand why you take the risk to keep seeing me. I'm no Einstein and I'm no Don Juan. I don't have leprosy either, but I'm 10 years older than you. Why would a beautiful princess like you want to be with me?"
"Because you get me. I can't communicate with Ron, he never knows what I'm trying to say, but you always know, sometimes even before I say it. It's like you see inside me. You know who and what I am, and for all my faults you love me. You're my soul mate. I love you more than anything this life has to offer."
And I loved her. How could I not love her? She was so beautiful, so sensuous, and so sweet. I looked into her deep blue eyes and it was as if I was seeing a ray of sunlight piercing the darkness of the sea. Those eyes were mesmerizing. It seemed as if she could control me just by looking at me.
How she could have married a hood like Ron I would never understand.
About that time a man walked through the door and took a seat at the far end of the bar. Mac was a private detective, among other things, who worked for Ron, taking care of his unpleasant jobs. He knew about this bar, so when Rachelle began trying to lose him he just drove over here and waited for her to arrive.
"Let's get out of here," she said, "We don't have that much time."
We left and went to the hotel across the street. I had a room reserved and already had the key.
Once in the room we wasted no time getting our clothes off and into the bed. I made love to her as I always did; kissing her lips, her neck, her ears, her breasts, and finally working my way down to her neatly trimmed pussy. By this time it was wet and I quickly slid my tongue in between her soft folds. I teased her a bit, making her wait by licking everything but her clit, then finally gave her what she so desired. She was loud, as usual, and the sound of her orgasms echoed off the walls.
Finally I lifted my head up and crawled up her body, kissing her immediately and getting her juices all over her mouth. She loved kissing me when my mustache was dripping in her juices.
I positioned myself between her legs, and she took my stiff member and inserted it into her dripping pussy. She began to buck immediately, again, as usual. She liked for me to hold there while she fucked me. She felt she could control the rhythm better and could time her orgasms to get the maximum release. She wrapped her legs around my ass and kept thrusting, harder and faster, until she had several orgasms. Then it was my turn. I was always too excited with her; I could never cum in any position but from behind. We shifted and she got on her knees, her breasts pressed against the sheets, her pussy in the air and begging to be fucked. I mounted her and this time it was I who controlled the tempo. I knew she liked this and also wanted it hard and deep. I gave her what she wanted, and what I needed, and after she had a couple of orgasms, I shot my hot seed deep inside her.
We lay beside each other, kissing, caressing and telling each other how much we were in love. And then she had to go.
We dressed and she left, after one final passionate kiss beside the door.
I got dressed and opened the door to leave, but was roughly pushed back into the room. 3 large men walked in and began to beat me from all sides. I didn't have time to defend myself, or even think, as I was assailed from all sides.
Five minutes later they left me in a crumpled heap, as the closed the door behind them. I was barely able to move, but I managed to get to my feet and make it back to my car. My ribs were killing me and I assumed some were broken. My head felt like I had run full speed into a cement wall, face first.
I want back to my apartment and cleaned myself up. One eye was swollen shut and my lower lip was split wide open.
I took a shower and went to bed.
The next morning I called Rachelle and told her I needed to see her. We arranged to meet at the same bar. I knew she would be followed, but I also knew that I could not just walk away from her. I had a plan to resolve this problem one way or another.
I stopped at the airport and bought two tickets to Paris, then went to the lounge early and waited in the parking lot. I watched everyone who came and went, looking for a familiar face.
Rachelle showed up and went inside. I waited, and a minute later another car pulled into the parking lot. The driver got out and went to the back door. He stood there for a minutes on his cell phone, then went inside. I had seen his face before and felt I had found the one I was looking for.
I entered the bar through the front door and took note of where the guy was sitting as I headed for the booth. I sat across from Rachelle and took her hands in mine. She almost became hysterical when she saw me. I calmed her down and convinced her that it was nothing serious and I would be fine in a week.
"Rachelle, I have a plan that should resolve this problem and give you your life back." I said.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, fear in her voice.
"I'm going to set you free." I responded. I handed her the plane ticket and told her I was going to take care of something and would meet her at the airport. Under no circumstances was she to miss that plane. If I didn't get there in time I would meet her in Paris.
I noticed the guy who had preceded me into the bar was talking on his cell phone again. He finished his call and left, going back out the back door. After a few minutes I told Rachelle it was time to leave. She was to go straight to the airport and not pack anything. We would buy everything we needed in Paris.
We left and I told her we should go out the back door. Once outside we were met my two of the thugs who had beaten me up the previous day.
"You don't get the message very easily, do you dumb ass?" one of them asked me.
"I got the message, loud and clear." I responded.
I pulled out a revolver and shot both of them before they realized there was any danger.
I heard the sound of an engine starting and looked over at the car that was occupied by the guy who had been in the bar. I had to get him before he got away or I was a dead man. I ran quickly toward the car as he was spinning his wheels and fired two shots through the window. He drove straight into the back wall of the bar and slumped over in the seat. I ran over and put another shot into his head, just to be certain.
I ran over and pushed Rachelle into my car and sped off, deciding it was better if she was with me. Rachelle was hysterical.
"Oh my God, what have you done?" she said.
"I did what had to be done. There just wasn't any other way." I said.
I took her to the airport and as we drove she slowly regained her composure. As I dropped her off she asked why I wasn't coming with her. I told her I had one more thing to do before we left and I would be back to catch that plane with her.
One way or another I was going to make sure she was free.
Rachelle checked in and went to her gate. She was two hours early so she sat down to wait, and shortly she begun to cry. She felt she knew where I was going and was fairly certain she would not see me again.
The time passed agonizingly slowly. She watched the people walking by, hoping and praying that one of them would be him. The final call for boarding was made and she slowly made her way to the gate, looking constantly over her shoulder.
"Sorry ma'am, you need to get on board, we are about to close the door." Said the attendant.
Rachelle turned and walked down the ramp, tears streaming down her face. Most of the passengers were already seated when she found her seat. She sat down, put her face in her hands and began to cry. Soon her shoulders were bobbing up and down as her body was wracked with her sobs. Bob was dead, she was sure of it. She would never again see his handsome face, hear his deep, resonant voice, or see that smile that always warmed her heart. And if Bob was dead, then she wasn't free. Ron would find her sooner or later. The only thing that had made living with Ron bearable was having Bob there when she needed him.
"Oh Bob," she thought, "my life isn't worth living without you."
She tried to be as quiet as she could, but her sobbing was out of control.
"Is there something wrong?" asked a flight attendant.
"No," said a voice behind her, "She's going to be alright."
Rachelle looked up and saw me standing behind the attendant.
"I barely made it in before they closed the door," I said.
I sat down beside Rachelle and put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her head down against my chest. I held her until her sobbing was under control, then she lifted her head and looked at me, one hand caressing my face. Even through the tears I could still see the depth of the sea in her eyes.
No words were spoken. Nothing needed to be said. We were free now. Free to live and free to love.
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xbob
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