This is a short story which might be considered a modern day take of the 1945 movie.
*****
The cut-throat razor hovers over the sleeping woman's throat. The slow beating of her heart visible as her blood pulses through her exposed artery. Moonlight shines off the cold steel, briefly reflecting soulless eyes before it touches her skin. Closing my eyes, I brace myself in anticipation.
A jarring musical score kicks in, and my girlfriend jumps, turning from the TV to grin at me in scared excitement. I manage a half-hearted smile in reply. My girlfriend invited me over for Halloween, saying we'd be alone all night. I'd expected something other than a movie marathon of incredibly gory, yet amazingly cheesy films. This was the third one tonight, and they did nothing for me. She loved this sort of thing and had decorated her flat with so much cheap and tacky Halloween decorations, I thought I'd walked into a kid's party.
It was my birthday tomorrow and she'd been not too subtly hinting, for a while, that she had something special planned. This wasn't it. Without thinking I lift my arm from around her shoulder to check my watch. What a rookie move!
"You have somewhere else to be?" She snaps. "Being with your girlfriend not enough for you? You want to head off to see someone else?" She pushes my arm off her and jumps up angrily.
"To be honest this wasn't what I was expecting..." I start to reply.
"I know what you were expecting, and there's no chance of that now. After all, I've done to make this place nice for your birthday."
"My birthday? This looks like preparations for a ten year olds party in here. As it happens, I grew out of jelly and ice-cream years ago, unlike some." I knew the second I said it, I'd made matters worse.
"Fine, as it happens this works out for the best. I've been trying to find a way to tell you it's over between us. I've been seeing Karl behind your back for a while now." That was a kick in the nuts. Not the breakup as such; we both knew we had been circling the drain for a while. Call me shallow, but if I'm honest, I'd only hung on this long because of the 'special' plans for my birthday.
However, the thought of her cheating with him! The pair worked together and the few times I'd met him, he gave me the impression of being slimy.
"You can fuck off to whatever is more important than me and I'll call him over. At least he likes this stuff!" She gestures to the decorations.
"In that case, you'd better watch out. If he likes this shit, he's probably a paedophile." Childish I know, but I didn't want her to have the last word. I snatch up my coat to storm out, but the effect is spoiled as my keys drop from my pocket into a discarded shoe.
Outside, I shiver as I slip into my heavy winter coat. The forecast predicted snow tonight and it seems they might be right for once. As I stuff my hands into my pockets I am reminded about what I'd been expecting. Just over two months ago, she abruptly asked if I'd ever had anal sex, saying she was surprised how much porn included it. Neither of us had, and when I asked if she wanted to try it, she was noncommittal. The following week she told me, without too much guile, that she had something special planned on my birthday. It didn't take a rocket scientist to add two and two together. So tonight I'd brought massage cream, condoms, and lube in anticipation. Which now turns out to be a complete waste of money. Money, I really could have used right now to get a taxi home. Instead, my twenty years olds limited income means I'm stuck catching a bus.
Trudging down the road, my hands buried in my pockets, it's impossible not to dwell on when 'it' had started with my ex. On the pedestrianised high street are late night dog walkers and drunken revellers. A small group of drunken women are laughing at a man with his trousers around his ankles mooning them, as his equally drunk friends yell encouragement. Seeing the groups together gives me an idea of when it must have started.
Two weeks ago she'd gone to a work's night out and I'd offered to take her home afterward. Don't think too highly of me. I only did it knowing she can get quite frisky when she's drunk, and had planned to take advantage of that. Seems that Karl had beaten me to it. It explains why we didn't talk for days afterward, despite numerous text messages asking if she was ok. And why she stopped dropping comments about my birthday plans. Oh well, fuck the bitch, if that's the way it goes. Better a clean break than picking over the corpse of a dead relationship.
A short cut down a back lane brings the bus station into view. The place is shut, but the waiting room is open 24/7. I jog across the road, and then push open the heavy door. White-washed brick, buzzing fluorescent tubes, hard plastic seats and the smell of bleach, that doesn't quite cover the hint of piss. An elderly couple is huddled up in one corner near a radiator. I nod a greeting and struggle to shut the door properly against the chill wind.
"Don't bother lad, it's knackered, just like everything else around here." the old man comments.
"John!" His wife chides him and he just shrugs.
"It's true."
I take a seat next to the pair, partially to block the piercing draft from the door, but mostly to get closer to the heat. We sit quietly, watching the world go by. Cars and taxis pass regularly. The two groups I'd seen earlier stagger past, giggling. They appear to have hooked up with each other. The women in the group are wearing clothing that is entirely unsuitable in this weather.
"Look at the state of them." The wife comments. "Going around looking like harlots." Her husband nods, but watches them intently, until they wobble out of sight.
I feel a twinge of regret over my break up. I hate the effort involved in starting a new relationship; the bullshit toing and froing, the 'Do you like this? Me too.' Crap. But ultimately, what I probably hated the most was the gap between the start of a relationship and the commencement of sex, especially as I'd expected to get laid tonight.
A bus pulls up and the old people slowly gather their bags. I hold the door open for them, and then quickly return to the radiator. My bus isn't due until 12:05 and its only 11:10 now. I wrap myself snugly in my coat and close my eyes to wait.
A short time later a gust of cold air fills the room as the door is pushed open. In walks a woman on her own. I glance over without being too obvious. This attire is even less appropriate than the previous outfits I'd seen. Is that supposed to be a Goth stripper or a sexy zombie stripper? Doc Martens, red fishnet stockings, one garter and a skirt so short it stretched the definition to a breaking point. Her black leather jacket barely comes down to her waist. Below it hangs a t-shirt covered by two string vests, one purple, and one black. Her hair is unnaturally black and her makeup, pale with a hint of bluish lipstick. Difficult to guess her age, but I'd guess late twenties.
"Great! Now I'm stuck here with a drunken tramp!" She mutters under her breath. She slams the door violently and it actually shuts properly. I notice a few flakes of snow falling outside.
"Neither actually," I reply, a little miffed. My coat may have seen better days, but at least it is weather appropriate. She looks startled by my reply but doesn't comment.
Throwing herself down in the chair opposite, she flinches the second her bare skin touches the cold plastic. She tugs ineffectively at the short skirt.
"On top of everything else, I'm going to get fucking frostbite in my fanny." She mutters almost inaudibly. Then she glares at me and snaps her legs closed. My eyes had been involuntarily drawn to the flash of red underwear under her skirt.
"What are you looking at?" She demands.
"I'm looking at someone who obviously did not expect to be catching the bus home tonight. Swap seats?"
"Why?" She asks suspiciously.
"Because you're cold and this is the warmest part of the room. Actually, I think you need more than just the radiator. Take my coat for a bit, until you warm up." Shrugging from the coat, I add.
"Never let it be said, that I let a woman get frostbite in her vagina." She blushes but puts the coat on. She's swamped by it. Her hands don't make it to the end of the sleeves and it reaches almost to her knees.
As she sits, the condoms and lube fall from the pocket. Now it's my turn to be embarrassed.
"Looks like you had different plans for tonight as well?" She picks them up and puts them back in the pocket, then taps the seat next to her. "Sit. Tell me what happened to you, so it makes my night seem less shit."
So I explain but leave out the more embarrassing details. She nods in all the right places.
"Ok, that's definitely worse than my night. My flatmate invited me to her office Halloween party. It's a free bar, but I had to dress up. She even suggested this fucking outfit. Told me there were some hot guys waiting for me. I begged a lift from my creepy stepdad, but when I got there I was the only one in costume!"
"But was the bar free?" I ask with a smile, but I feel my teeth begin to chatter.
"Yes, so I threw back a couple of drinks and then stormed off. Absolutely everyone was laughing at me."
"You couldn't call for a lift home?" Outside, late-night revellers run, swearing, through the snowflakes.
"Not a chance. He would be drunk by now. Even if I could get him to come out, it's hard enough to keep his hands off me when he's sober, let alone dressed like this." She pauses looking at me.
"This is stupid. This coat is big enough for the pair of us, get up." Standing, she slips off the coat and gratefully I put it on.
"Sit. You don't mind do you?" She asks, slipping into my lap without awaiting my response. Her legs hang out exposed over the next seat.
"Hang on." She jumps up again and slips off her leather jacket. Under the two pointless string vests is a white t-shirt with strategic slashes in the cloth exposing a black lace bra? Sitting again, she drapes the jacket over her calves and pulls my coat around her.
She wriggles her bum to get comfortable and I'm acutely aware of how pleasant it is to feel her soft buttocks pressed into my groin. Her face is only inches from mine and we both realise this is a little more intimate than we expected.
With her legs sticking out, I have to hold the coat closed around us. One of my hands is around her hip and the other is trying to hold the bottom of my coat around her exposed legs. As I start to warm up, I'm struggling to keep my mind focused on something other than the attractive woman on my lap. Spurred by my previous hopes for the evening combined with her occasionally shifting position, my dick ignores my instructions and starts to grow. She shifts again, and this time I'm certain she's noticed it. Clearing her throat she comments.
"Nice after-shave."
"Thanks, I like the smell of your shampoo as well."
"So ... this is a little awkward."
"Just a bit. Sorry about..." I trail off, not sure how to mention my erection.
"That?" She tenses her backside muscles which squeeze the tip of my cock. Unfortunately, it just makes it press between her cheeks more. "I suppose I should take it as a compliment. After all, it's kind of what I was aiming for by dressing like this. If not under these circumstances." I try to change the subject.
"What time is your bus?"
"No idea, what about you?"
