Chapter Two
James's car bright red BMW convertible was in the garage as usual when Sheila opened the door. She parked her white Audi next to it.. She had always felt that he thought more of that car than he did of her. Always waxing it and polishing it.
If only he would wax and polish me.
He touched the car more than he touched her. She considered dragging one of her keys down the side of its glossy red paint but decided he may find it before she was gone. She wanted this night to go quietly. She wouldn't spend her last night arguing with James. There had been enough of that, and it had done no good.
At the push of a button the garage door close and she scooped the packages from her front seat. The contents were her last meal. It would consist of two steaks, a bottle of her favorite wine, and a freshly refilled bottle of sleeping pills for dessert.
It was nearly seven o'clock.
Shortly, they would have the two steaks before she took a soothing bath and she had the rest of the wine. They would have a glass with dinner, of course but the rest was hers to wash down the pills. She was cutting it close, but she wasn't really in any hurry. Everything had to be just right.
Lots of things to do.
As was typical, there was no sign of James when she entered the house. He was probably in his den or in his office working.
Always working. Always gone. Even when he is here, he may as well be gone.
No need to ask if he had eaten. They rarely ever ate together anymore. Still, she had hoped, at least this once, that they might. But she could eat alone quietly before making her exit. Just as it had been in life she would go in death.
It is appropriate.
She sighed.
While she cooked the steak, her mind wandered back to the strange little man. Could she have counted him as someone interested thereby nullifying the pact she had made with herself? She had promised herself that if even one person was interested in her, her life was worth living.
No. He was merely being kind. Don't be a chicken shit.
She couldn't back out now. In fact, apart from the kind little man, she had found no one to be any different than their typical unkind selves. There had been no one to spare her.
She took a long drink of wine.
At least the wine is good.
The steak ended up being tough. Typical of her life. One thought caused a smile to almost blossom on her lips, the other steak in the fridge would be so tough by the time James found it he wouldn't be able to eat it.
Good, maybe it will go down like every day of the last four years I've lived being ignored by him.
Bastard.
She could only hope. With each bite of her last tough steak, she did just that.
* * *
After she finished her meal, she stood and extinguished the candles. Wisps of smoke climbed into the still air of the dining room above the table.
It's Time.
James had never even looked to see if she had made it home.
She changed into her robe.
She sat the remaining three quarters of a bottle of wine on the edge of the large garden tub when she entered her bathroom. The water gurgled excitedly as she turned the spigots on and poured half a bottle of bubble bath into the churning water, finding no need to be conservative. She then sat her ticket out of Hell beside the wine.
The medicine bottle's white cap warned in all capital letters, KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN.
And me.
She chuckled to herself.
Facing the wall of mirrors on one side of her bathroom she looked at her partially open robe. One of her nipples peeked from behind the cloth. It stood erect and wrinkled, almost appearing angry with her for what she was about to do. It pointed at her, accusing her of being weak.
She shrugged the robe off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
"Why Isn't anyone interested in this?" She whispered. Turning sideways, she cupped both warm breasts, squeezing them gently. She bent her head down and pulled a nipple into her warm mouth. She bit it lightly. She could remember when James would bite them. When he had wanted to.
Sheila closed her eyes. The image of the shower girl's nipples all puffed out round and smooth filled her mind. She felt herself becoming wet as she thought of the blonde girl touching herself again.
She remembered how excited she would get when James would bite her nipples until they were sore. It was always worth it, though the marks would linger for hours afterward.
She decided to bite them hard enough to leave marks now. When her body was found, she wanted him to wonder where she had been getting them taken care of.
The taste of salted iron entered her mouth.
Oops, a little too hard.
She found the sensation and taste very erotic.
Parting the wet lips of her peach with her fingers, she easily found her bud. It stood aroused and firm against the tip of her finger. She chewed her nipples, pushing the thin fleshy hood back off her sensitive head. The head stood dark red and glistening. She obviously hadn't gotten the girl at the gym out of her system.
She stroked her swollen bud between her thumb and index finger. It stood throbbing, aching, an inch long. As she stroked it, a drop of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth onto her right breast.
Yep, definitely a bit too hard.
She didn't seem to feel enough pain to stop her from biting them again fiercely. Soon, both nipples were covered in a light sheen of blood. There was no serious physical damage, but the bite marks were quite visible, just as she had intended. She smiled, imagining James trying to figure out who had been chewing on her nipples as he stared down at her cold, wet, dead body.
He will care once I'm gone.
She sat on the edge of the garden tub, faced the mirror, and spread her legs wide. The shiny head of her bud stood erect begging to be rubbed, pulled, anything. It throbbed with her heart, begging for the smallest amount of attention.
She stroked herself for several minutes, knowing how it felt to want something so desperately that it hurt. Her ample juices filled her soft folds, readying every part of her sensitive body for something that would never come. There was no one to be ready for.
Her freakishly big bud had always made her feel uncomfortable around males, especially when she was in high school. Unlike other girls then, when she became turned on it would push its head from beneath her folds. She was different. If anyone was slightly different in high school, they were tormented. Sheila had been--cruelly tormented. But even that pain had been bearable.
Sally Copeland was an exception during that time when everyone's parts were developing, and their sexual identity wasn't so decided yet.
Sally had the most beautiful breasts. Sheila used to get excited when she saw them in the shower. Sheila's breasts were small, pointed things and Sally' s were much bigger with puffy nipples. They had really turned Sheila on. She realized now that the blonde girl's puffy nipples had reminded her of Sally's and she smiled a sad smile.
