Lazlo wanted a fun weekend, and his wish had been granted. He chose a city on the California coast for nothing other than to find a woman and share the fun behind closed doors. Manhattan Beach, which stood just a few miles south of Los Angeles International Airport (or more commonly known as LAX) became a city that he looked forward to visit the most. And once he met the older woman in a sports bar, an instant fixation drew him toward her magnetic features. They introduced each other, and once Lazlo informed her of his Hungarian lineage, Teresa had already given him clear signals. All of them symbolized a positive reaction.
The twenty-six-year-old man spent the next hour learning of Teresa's life and career. He was intrigued by her rising success in the workplace. But most important of all, he felt mesmerized by her preserved exterior. Even when she was twelve years older than him, Teresa's middle age did little to affect her natural beauty in a pessimistic manner. Her red hair, brown eyes, and unwrinkled skin made her look like a queen with a proper protocol. Lazlo didn't see a wedding ring on her finger, so he had nothing more to worry about. Judging by her feminine traits, she wouldn't be the type of woman who would hide her status from someone like him.
On the other hand, Teresa made her point clear that she couldn't keep her eyes off of such a handsome man like Lazlo. Her comments on his short black hair, his clean apparel, and his vivacious personality made his ego emerge in the spotlight. Complimenting Lazlo turned out to be the right decision on her part, since there would be nothing else that would foreshadow their new relationship. He remained engrossed by the woman sitting next to him at the bar, and vice versa. He ignored the music and the television, and made certain that their liaison would make a stellar advancement.
He made clear of his actions by whispering in her ear, "I'd like to know where you live."
Teresa caressed his arm with her slow and delicate fingers. "Oh, I'll give you a stunning view of the beach. It will be some of the best moments of your life."
Lazlo's thick Hungarian accent must have convinced her of his silent willpower. "Prove it. Show me where you live and let's see if you are correct."
Teresa smiled. "Follow me."
Once they left the bar with no one else but each other, Lazlo's sturdy mechanism between his legs was ready to be appropriately utilized on this warm and festive Saturday afternoon.
* * *
Teresa's two-story home was located right in front of The Strand, a narrow bike path that stood right between the sand and the long row of affluent homes that belonged to some of the wealthiest civilians in Southern California. Those who prospered in business, entertainment, and sports found no trouble when residing in this glorious coastal city. Teresa's home, which was located just several blocks away from the Manhattan Beach pier, appeared so immaculate and lavish once Lazlo stepped inside. With clean floors, luxurious furniture, expensive appliances, and a window in the living room offering a clear view of the beach, the man couldn't deny the success that she had rightfully earned as an attorney. He looked out the living room window to see how close the water really was: approximately one hundred yards away from The Strand. Only a handful of people spent their time on the beach, but it didn't matter. What DID matter to Lazlo was the perfect view of the beach, made even more grandiose with the late afternoon sun bidding farewell to the clear blue sky as everything grew a little darker.
And then, everything that happened next went by so fast. The two of them didn't waste any time as she led him upstairs and into the master bedroom. She would have given him an extended tour of the house, but it wouldn't have mattered when Lazlo came so close to completing his main objective. The standard procedure had commenced in the bedroom. They left the curtains closed, and it didn't take long for them to take their clothes off and share their bodies underneath the blanket. Lazlo enjoyed every minute of it. Her body was just what he needed at a time like this. He couldn't get enough of her, and Teresa couldn't get enough of him. Their mating session didn't end even as the first full hour had passed. They wanted more of each other. Their crazed instincts had been upheld since their first encounter at the bar, and once they finally acknowledged their primitive actions, the release almost made the bed break in half.
Teresa made Lazlo feel like the ultimate predator who selected the right mate. Her vocal praise for his drilling strength became the proper formula for his self-esteem. He did everything that reminded her of his apex status. She obeyed his commands while he made her scream with glee. And when everything ended on a high note, both of them lay on the bed fully exhausted by their mutual understandings.
He proclaimed, "We should do this more often. You make me feel like a king."
When he pulled out of her, Teresa remained locked in his embrace. "Well, when you want more, give me a call and I make the arrangements."
"That sounds like a good plan."
Lazlo got out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower. You better have some good soap lying around."
"You'll be fine. Just don't make a mess in there. I want it spotless."
"I don't think you should be making the rules when I'm around."
Teresa added mild sarcasm to her voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, my king."
Lazlo chuckled. "I seriously hope you don't lose your sense of humor."
He made his way into the bathroom. He got inside the bathtub and turned on the water. From the see-through shower curtains, he could see Teresa getting out of bed and leaving the room. He thought nothing of it as he soaked his body with warm water. He reached down to grab a shampoo bottle. But something caught his attention, and that was when his mistrust toward the older woman had taken effect in his psyche. Not only was there a shampoo bottle specifically for females, but another shampoo bottle stood right alongside it. A closer look at the item revealed a symbol looking like a caricatured eagle or a falcon. Lazlo recognized the symbol before. This shampoo had been created specifically for males. And not only was there a bar of soap that had been colored pink, but the brand name on a bottle of body wash made it clear that the contents inside were to be used for men only.
Lazlo held his breath. He should have been so stupid. Everything about Teresa had been a little too perfect. A hidden flaw had to be imminent somewhere in her life. Lazlo turned off the water and grabbed a green towel from the rack. A sudden loud thud that came from another room stopped him from doing anything else. He froze as he heard two more loud bumps in the distance. He wrapped the tower around his waist without even cleaning himself dry. He almost called out Teresa's name, but stopped immediately when he heard another voice from downstairs. It sounded heavier and more masculine than Teresa's, and it didn't sound very happy.
Lazlo leaned against the wall and heard loud screams that came from downstairs. He could hear Teresa begging for someone to stay calm.
The man from downstairs didn't want to hear any of it. "Don't fucking lie to me! I know what you've done!"
Teresa yelled, "Don't touch me! I haven't done anything!"
"I know you're fucking someone else!"
Lazlo let out a deep sigh. He shivered, knowing the absolute truth that had been inadvertently been revealed through verbal aggression.
The man from downstairs shouted, "Get the fuck out of my house!"
Teresa sounded like she had just burst into tears. "You can't just kick me out! I'm your wife!"
"You're a whore! That's what you are! A filthy fucking whore!"
Lazlo could hear footsteps for the next few seconds.
The man from downstairs added, "I'll see you in court, bitch."
The front door opened and slammed shut. That last sound, the one that echoed across the entire house, made Lazlo want to leave right away. He looked at his clothes that he had scattered on the floor. He didn't move as he didn't want to make a sound. Teresa's husband was still in the house, and if he had learned that Lazlo didn't leave, there would be no way to imagine how long it would take for law enforcement to find his putrid body. Lazlo took slow quiet footsteps into the master bedroom. He grabbed the door and tried to close it, but it made a sudden creak. He stopped immediately to keep the husband from learning of his existence.
He left the door wide open and turned around. When he noticed the curtains still closed, with only faint sunlight seeping through the narrow fissure and brightening the light brown carpet below, Lazlo crept his way to the other side of the room. He took a peek through the curtains. Outside, everyone and everything displayed normal traits. The beachgoers expressed their contentment on the sand by either playing volleyball as a group or playing Frisbee with their dogs. A few bikers rushed past Teresa's house as they made their journey across The Strand. The setting sun would soon touch the Pacific horizon. It spread its orange shades all across the cloudless sky, leaving only the color blue as the partial minority.
