Joy and Pain

 Joy and Pain

In another hotel room across the hall from where the unholy tryst was taking place, sat three other people who had one thing in common. They were all interested parties in the goings-on between the woman and the man who were currently engaged in sexual acrobatics in the California style king-sized bed.

Margaret Claudette Richardson and Stanford Morris Clayton Jr., had more than enough space to do anything they wanted to do. She was lithe enough to be manipulated and he was strong and virile enough to handle her mature lovemaking. As perverted as it may have seemed, it was indeed a great match because they fit together like pieces of a perfectly constructed puzzle.

But there was another scenario being played out in the room across the hall, and neither one of the lovers were aware that the other was being twice duped. In other words, Stanford Jr., did not know that he was being used as a means to get back at his own mother, and Claudette had no idea that one of the reasons he'd been so readily agreeable to their union was because he himself was a pawn in someone's else's game. He was being maneuvered by the master game player in a match for retaliation against his own father.

Let me explain. Some time ago, Helena Clayton was involved in a brief affair with a man named Griffin McCoy. At the time of the affair, Griffin was separated (but not divorced) from his wife Honor. The affair between Griffin and Helena lasted only a couple of months, but it was long enough for Griffin to fall in love with her. Griffin already had a grudge against Stanford Clayton that was the result of an encounter on the golf course. He had hoped that one day he could get his revenge. Initially, he began to come onto Helena (when she brought her Audi into the dealership for servicing) as a way to get his payback; but he had not counted on having real feelings for her.

Then, her husband found out, and beat her up badly. Griffin vowed revenge against him again for another reason...the violence against the woman he loved, and for being pathetic enough afterwards that she took him back. Honor McCoy wanted her own opportunity for getting satisfaction against Helena Clayton. And to have Helena's only male child having an affair with one of her own best friends was simply too delicious to pass up! But...how did she manage to finagle Stanford Jr., into the situation?

It's like this you see. Claudette hatched the master plan in her own sick mind. She approached Stanford one night at one of his local hangouts. She was able to persuade him easily enough into agreeing to sleep together because as part of his nature; he is like a dog in heat when it comes to sexy women, and let's face it...Claudette is one sexy gal. Okay...now Honor just happened to witness Claudette and Stanford together that night, and when she saw Claudette's hand coyly come to rest on Stanford's thigh, she immediately became suspicious. So, while they were in deep conversation and ignorant of being watched, she slipped into the booth behind them where she could comfortably eavesdrop.

She heard enough to know when and where they were planning to meet. She then contacted Griffin, brought him up to speed, and Griffin made a phone call of his own to the third interested party; a young woman by the name of Goddess Blessing. Honor had met Goddess when she had come into her boutique to shop. It seemed as if the woman had a bottomless purse. She spent a great deal of money and brought along several friends and her sisters who had limitless funds as well. Honor and Goddess became personal friends, and Honor's revenue from her shop skyrocketed to the top.

It turned out that Goddess was from a very, very rich old southern family who were the descendants of a prominent family who were pioneers in the mercantile business. She lived on a huge trust that had been left to her and her sisters from somebody that had died a long time ago. She and her sisters lived a for real jet set lifestyle and were used to having only the best in life as well as having their own way. Goddess was the last woman that had been jilted by our young buck, and was more than willing to take part in the plot. Now...admittedly...Goddess was partly responsible for the breakup, but hey; what can I say? A woman scorned...a rose by any other name...right?

So, Goddess was best friends with the woman who was head of HR for this hotel, and it was no problem for her to gain access to the room and provide a setup for the three partners in crime to do their thing.

Stay tuned next week to find out more about the goings on in the room across the hall, and more about what they plan to do with what they have witnessed.

Don't miss it!!

Down the Rabbit Hole

"There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about; and that is not being talked about"...Oscar Wilde

The sex had been fabulous and she was certain that both of them had experienced the ecstasy in equal shares. What had began as a calculated seduction had definitely ended up as an out- of- bounds sexual adventure where they had loosed all inhibitions and given themselves over to a night that saw its finale in the outrageous.

There had been no misconceptions of love or any other tender emotions. He was the dispenser and she was the receiver. At one point during the night their roles had reversed. She had pleasured him every bit as much as he did her, and each of them gave until there was nothing left. It had come to her as a wild and disconnected thought; but she remembered thinking how glad she was that she maintained her fit body by working out three times a week at her gym. While she had been aiming for a healthy long life span, she had no idea she would reap the other rewards that a fit and lithe body could provide. Although she was tired, her muscles did not ache and she was not sore from the rigorous sex. Truth was, she could have enjoyed a morning romp, but she did not want to wake Stanford and get him started all over again and the timing was not right.

There were two more remaining parts to her plan that had to be carried out. And she must keep moving and get them taken care of immediately...before she had time to think about what she had done and who she was doing it to. Of course Helena was her prime target, and initially; the thought of using her son to complete that revenge had been daunting but doable. Especially when she considered what was waiting for her at the end of this escapade.

As handsome, exciting and sexy as young Stanford Jr., is Claudette couldn't help but let herself imagine that she was with Griffin for a few moments. Both men were fine and sophisticated and dreamy hunks, but each in his own way. Griffin McCoy had that older, suave man of the world persona about him and he wore it well. His completely white head of hair and his confident manner; the way he wore his clothes...all of this only added to his sex appeal. Whereas Stanford was just beginning to realize his manliness, and that was a little endearing...but no! she could not nor would not dwell anything endearing! She still had work to do.

So she slipped out of bed, and gathered up her scattered clothing and shoes from around the room and quietly went into the huge bathroom to dress. How she would have loved to soak in this gorgeous bath tub! How she would have relished a slow and lazy 'morning after'; complete with breakfast in bed followed by more delicious loving. As she hurriedly redressed in last night's outfit (she must be gone before he wakes) she appeased herself with the thought that she'd get Griffin to bring her back here when they got together. Then, it would be all she'd want...and more.

She had promised to meet Honor downstairs in the coffee shop. The text message Honor had sent her very early this morning indicated that she was to be there at nine sharp. Honor would have the photos of her and Stanford Jr., in their sex acts. The tiny hidden camera was supposed to have captured at least an hour's worth of activity. So, being conscious of this fact was one of the stimuli that had kept her going. She had no way of knowing which sixty minutes of her star performance was to be immortalized on film.

Next, Honor would see to it that the film reached Helena Clayton; probably by the end of the day or thereabouts. When the room got cleaned by housekeeping, a certain house keeping specialist would be sure to neatly bundle up the bed linen from their love bed, remove the hidden camera to wrap up with the linens, deliver this bundle to the third person in the partnership and that person would then add the bundle to the envelope with the photos and the third present in this surprise package (which she would be passing along to Honor this morning) which was the pair of panties she had tucked inside her purse just for this purpose.

If that didn't send Helena over the edge...what would?

Claudette finished dressing and tiptoed across the room toward the door. Stanford moaned a little in his sleep but continued snoring softly. His arms and legs were sprawled out under the tangled sheets. He was totally out of it thanks to the small amount of sedative she had added to his night cap. It was simply a bit of insurance to make sure he didn't wake up before she had s chance to escape. She took a moment's pause to stand over him; looking at him and briefly thought that he looked so peaceful and so handsome in his sleep. Quickly giving herself a second to feel regret, she hoped that someday he would be able to forgive her, and that he would not have too bad a headache from the sedative. She kissed the tips of her fingers and lightly touched them to his lips.

It was too late for her now. She was too far gone; she was already down the rabbit hole and almost mad as a hatter.

Three Faces in the Mirror

Everything about this night had a surreal quality to it and strangely that served to only add to the heightened adventure of the night ahead. From the moment I left my house until the moment I had arrived at our previously agreed upon destination I had felt the detached reality of it all. I remember thinking that 'This was it. This was the point of no return'. Other ridiculous thoughts entered into my mind at that time; stuff that didn't make any sense at all. Random, disconnected thoughts like 'here is where the rubber hits the road' and 'if you had any sense at all...you'd run like the hounds of hell were on your heels.'

But I paid no heed to the last minute warnings and imaginary flashing caution lights in my head. Right...(no...there was nothing right about what I was going to do); so wrong or whatever...I was here I was going through with it and there was no turning back. I came to divide and conquer and that was just what I intended to do. There was one small pesky thought that had popped up in my mind just before I left home. I had finished dressing and was taking one last look at my makeup in the bathroom mirror, and as I started to turn away from the mirror something caused me to look back at my reflection.

I stood there and stared at myself for a moment and I did form a mental picture of myself...three pictures actually. I looked at myself as a warm and loving mother and grandmother, a helpful and pleasant co-worker and (this was the latest addition) a wanton and unscrupulous woman. The smile that I had on my face right then assured me that this was the most fun personality I had and I was certainly looking forward to my rendezvous and I was determined to squelch any feelings of trepidation or second thoughts.

My heart beat seemed to match the click of my high heels against the pavement as I walked across the hotel parking lot. Excitement and nervousness competed with each other inside of me. I felt so alive; more alive than I had felt in months! I was going to block everything else out of my mind and just allow myself to feel whatever he made me feel. I would not think I would only react. He would be the puppeteer and I would dance for him, and he could make me into whatever he needed me to be.

The closer I got to the entrance the more I detached from the person I normally am. The everyday...average nice person. I would be someone else tonight. I'd be a sexy, outrageous, hot and desirable woman. It had to be that way because it was all a part of the master plan for revenge. When he and I had first made our plans for our hook-up, I imagined I'd have to detach and zone out so I could be with him and not have him suspect that I was only going through the motions. But then, the more we talked about it and the more he convinced me he wanted to be with me the easier it became to truly want to be with him. The fact that I was going to bed with my friend's husband was the ultimate satisfaction, but the fun was going to be mine and a perk that turned out to fit the plan perfectly.

I was inside the lobby now, and heading toward the elevator. I got on as some other people got off
and pushed the button for the twenty-first floor, heading for room twenty-seven-twenty-two. There were no other patrons in the beautifully decorated hallway. The thick carpet muted my footsteps as I walked to my right and toward my destiny.  There it was. And he was behind that door. Waiting for me. I'd gotten a call from him minutes after I'd left home and he took that opportunity to recount the things we would do when we got together.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly on the door. He opened it almost instantly. Smiling at me with that drop dead smile of his he stood there looking at me up and down like a hungry dog eyes a meaty bone.

"Hello Claudette".
"Hello Stanford".

"Come in"....


What are your thoughts and comments? Did you see that coming?

Conspiracy Theory

Probably more people than want to admit it believe in conspiracy theories. I'm talking about the unexplained effects of chain reactions that stem from unexplained phenomena. Not necessarily the deep conspiracy of Roswell, New Mexico, but the kind of things that occur unexpected. The sort of situations that are twisted so tight into a maze of questions to which there are no apparent or plausible answers, and no one who could provide them is inclined to do so.

So the story goes in the murder of Bryce Meyers. It is now several weeks later from the date he was shot to death, and Alexis Martin is really no closer to knowing the full story of how and why he was killed as she was from the beginning. She had spent everyday of the first two weeks after that alarming phone call from Abigail alternating between being in a scary "day mare" and an all too real reality.

Alexis had been questioned twice more at the hands of the local police. The second time she received a visit from Mercer Holding and Artie Callahan the first detectives to question her; and the next time she had the privilege it was with two different ones. Although she found the whole thing to be a big, royal pain in the rear end, she couldn't help but be impressed with the new duo. Two women detectives who were both in their mid-fifties and were so sharp and at the top of their game that they made the other two look like rookies. Detectives Rosalyn Baker and Charlene Harris were deceptively friendly, and cunningly solicitous. They knew how to lead a person into saying things unawares, simply by lulling one into a false sense of security.

But now, she had been assured by the first two detectives that there would be no more questions and her cooperation had been greatly appreciated, but in essence they were done with her. Alexis was thrilled to hear this, but she had a lot of questions of her own that she could not get answers to. She never heard from Abigail again after the one time she visited her in jail. This happened just before Abigail suddenly disappeared from town.

Nothing else about the case appeared in the news, and the last thing she was able to hear was quite disturbing. In the beginning she had felt a heart-wrenching sympathy for Bryce's mother. She could not imagine how heartbroken Melinda Meyers must be. But about three weeks after his death, Alexis was attending a meeting of her local business women's chapter, and was the recipient of some startling news. Pretty darn sure that she was not meant to overhear this, Alexis could not believe her ears.

According to the overheard conversation, Bryce's parents Kyle and Melinda Meyers were persons of interest in an ongoing federal investigation. All of their personal assets were being scrutinized and although they had not been frozen yet, it seems to be just a matter of time before they would be, and federal warrants issued for their arrests. And the clincher was this: Bryce was a personal friend of the  Special Prosecutor who was in line to work the case. The SP had been gleaning information from Bryce for months to be used against his parents.

And...Abigail Vanderberry had led him on to the point when he fell in love with her and they became engaged and planned their wedding. The wedding was never meant to take place, and all of the money that had been spent for the elaborate affair had been front money. Abigail was an undercover agent and her job had been to bring him in after the farce had been played out enough to reveal what she needed to know about his parents. Somewhere along the way, Abigail fell in love for real with Bryce, but then hours before the wedding was to have taken place (or so it was supposed to) she shot Bryce to death. The original plan was to have been for her to leave him a note with an explanation of why she walked out on him, and to dump him at the altar. Real love was not to have been a factor.

Kyle and Melinda had been planning to empty their bank accounts and open new off shore ones before their son had been killed. They had bought a new house, arranged to sell the one they currently lived in, and had wrapped up all of their domestic affairs in readiness to make a move to Tahiti. They had planned to be gone before the nuptials, based on a tip they had gotten that Abigail was in fact, not the person she pretended to be.

Nothing about this whole situation made sense to Alexis. However, she was grateful to be out of the mix. Now perhaps she could put all of it behind her, and get on with her life. It would be a most welcome change to get up in the morning and not feel as if she was living in a state of suspended animation. She may never get all of the answers to her questions, but she would draw a great deal of comfort from the money she had earned as the wedding planner. Thankfully, the check had cleared and now the plush cushion the cash made in her account was sufficient to make her willing to abandon the whole matter, and leave the conspiracy theories to the buffs who savor them.

Which is what she did as she hummed a jaunty tune all the way to the bank.