Martin walked by the bookstore. He just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought he'd check in on Cheryl. Actually he was kidding himself. He'd gone way out of his way to go to the mall. He wanted to see how Cheryl was doing. Now that he was where he had accidentally planned to be he was afraid to go in. There was something about Cheryl. Something he couldn't put his finger on. She was like a rare art object he thought he wanted but knew he shouldn't be interested in. He had a girlfriend, Sarah. She was pretty, well built, easy to get along with, and terrific in bed. There was nothing Cheryl had he needed. Still, here he was standing outside the bookstore peering around through the window like some peeping Tom.
What was it about her that fascinated him? It was probably the fact that he knew what was in store for her. Turner was moving ahead like clockwork. The kill, as Turner defined it, was only days away. He supposed spying on Cheryl was like the time he was at the beach when he was maybe twelve. He found this conch. It looked like what every kid wanted. It was big, purplish, and fresh looking and certainly right from the sea.
He remembered picking it up to listen for the ocean, but when he turned it over there were all these maggots, squirming and writhing around eating this dead mollusk. He threw the shell down and started to walk away, but he had to turn back and look at the damn maggots again. Looking at Cheryl was like looking at those maggots, sort of. The shell was pretty, but the insides were all rotted and decayed. Cheryl wasn't half-bad looking, but he saw the decay, the rotted maggoty insides that were only a few days away.
Shit! That was wrong. He knew it. She wasn't anything like that old maggoty shell. Still, he thought of her with the same kind of dread.
He watched her from the corner of the window. She had the same black and white outfit on she'd worn on the boat. That meant she probably spent the night at Turner's. Had he already popped her? He might have. Thinking about it made Martin's stomach knot up. He wished he knew why.
She looked damned good. She was heavier than he normally liked, but somehow he didn't see the extra weight. She had pretty legs. They were heavier at the top than maybe they should have been, but for her age and her build they looked sharp. Without any nylons on she looked more naked. He didn't see any spider or varicose veins. When she climbed that ladder he could almost see her ass. She had nice panties on.
Her breasts were larger than he usually liked, but they looked awfully good. When she bent and turned they sort of swayed and tumbled this way and that. There was a kind of naturalness to the way they undulated that turned him on. He bet they would feel good in somebody's hands. Turner's hands, not his.
Since she'd been out with Sarah Cheryl had started wearing make up, and it looked good on her. The plain Jane was certainly gone. She was pretty. That was the only word to describe her. Cheeks aglow, hair tumbling down in a sort of organized disarray, nose all perky, pert little chin, beautiful clear skin, and the damnedest ears. He bet nibbling on those ears would be a treat for somebody. Turner's treat, not his.
He watched her as a customer started talking to her. The customer was probably asking some questions about books. She knew about that sort of stuff. He used to read a lot, but the Internet more or less put an end to that. He looked at her smile at the man. She had such a sweet smile. He how she held her hands, all dainty and delicate. Her hands looked so small. Her nails had that clear clean look he liked so much. He never thought much of colored nails on women, looked cheap somehow. Her fingernails looked so, so something, so pure. He wondered what it would be like if she touched him with those little fingers. What was he thinking? She wasn't for him. She was Turner's. Damn Turner.
Look at her smile at that customer. What a beautiful smile! Her whole face lights up. He saw how her eyes crinkled all up. God she had big eyelashes! She was one of those kind of people who lit up a room when they went in. All those years she's been hidden under a basket. Now look at her! Why couldn't he get her off his mind?
Martin decided it was time to scram. He didn't want to get caught watching.
Cheryl saw Martin out of the corner of her eye. Why didn't he come in she wondered? She would have liked to talk to him about Turner. Martin was a handsome man in a sort of subdued way. He was tall, not as tall as Turner, and he was well built, though he lacked Turner's muscles. Martin was more the quiet reflective type. Very much like her in that way. If he had asked her out first she'd have fallen madly in love with him. Martin was puzzling, a mystery.
Turner was there at 5:00 to pick Cheryl up. Like the gentleman he was he took her straight home. At her doorway he asked for and got another set of long warm kisses. This time he took a few more liberties. Instead of holding her hands behind her back, he got her to keep them in front up around her breasts. He held her hands there with one of his. This gave him an offhand feel. Her breasts were just as soft and lush as he imagined them. He thought about when he'd have her on the floor on her knees with her tits swaying back and forth sucking him off, or better still sucking off one of his friends while he watched. That was going to be cool. He kissed her good afternoon and promised to call her later in the week, probably Wednesday.
True to his word Turner called Cheryl that Wednesday evening. He had two tickets to Thursday night's baseball game, and he wanted her to go. Cheryl decried her lack of wardrobe, but said she whip something up. He agreed to pick her up at 6:00. Since Thursday was her early night off, everything was scheduled perfectly.
That Thursday on her lunch break Cheryl stopped in at the big mall sporting goods store and one of the sales lady's talked her into a pair of long khaki slacks, sporty tennis shoes, a team tee-shirt, and a team jacket. Cheryl thought she'd be ready. However, when Turner picked her up he was dissatisfied with the slacks. They went back to the sport's store and he bought her a pair of flashy silken shorts and a pair of white knee-highs with the team logo. He even bought her a team baseball cap. Cheryl thought the shorts were too much. They only came just barely below the line of her ass, and though, thankfully, they were a loose fit around the legs they were too tight in the crotch. But since Turner liked them she wore them anyway.
They went to the ballpark and whooped it up. Cheering when the home team got a run or when their pitcher got another K, but in the end the visitors were too much for the home boys and won by three runs.
Turner took her home, but made her promise to go out again Saturday night. He knew of some hidden away restaurant with soft lighting and delicious oysters. He wanted to feed her then take her to a movie.
Saturday came around. Cheryl had called Sarah who agreed to help her pick out something to wear. They shopped Saturday afternoon and got Cheryl a spiffy little black dress. It was a spaghetti strap outfit with a tailored waist and came to just above her knees. Her upper body was covered by a black chiffon long sleeved bolero. It had a black silk collared neckline and black silk cuffs. The rest of the bolero was translucent, and sexy as hell. She purchased a pair of black high- heeled shoes and charcoal colored pantyhose. A form fitting strapless bra held her breasts in place. Sarah told her she looked like a vamp.
That night Turner was blown away by what she had on. He couldn't get over how beautiful she looked. Like he said they went to one of those quiet out of the way restaurants, ordered oysters, and then went to a movie at one of the smaller out of town cinemas. It was one of the last of its kind. Turner explained he liked those old cinemas because of their rustic flavor.
Cheryl would have preferred something further in the city, but Turner was such a gentleman, so gracious, attentive, and charming she kept her opinions to herself. At the end of the date he asked if he could stop by and see her after she got off work on Sunday. There was something on his mind, and he wanted to talk to her about it. By the time Turner had gotten to the end of the date Cheryl was ready to listen to whatever Turner had to say, and probably ready to agree to almost anything.
That night Cheryl slept the sleep of the angels. Turner wanted to have a special talk the next day. She wondered what he might bring up. She wondered if it might involve a ring. She doubted it, but it was a fantasy she'd been having.
Sunday afternoon at 5:00 sharp Turner was waiting at the front of the bookstore. "Cheryl there's something I'd like to talk to you about. I think it's kind of important."
Cheryl was pleased he was there, and on time. She was ready for anything. "Sure Turner."
He said. "Come on, let's go someplace quiet."
It was a beautiful mid-summer day. In fact July Fourth had just been the week before. Turner drove to a small park that was only a few miles from the mall. They got out and walked down a grassy slope to a picnic table that sat near the big lake that dominated the park. Geese were swimming in the water. The grass was green and freshly cut. The picnic table sat under a big shade tree, she thought maybe an elm or a sycamore.
Cheryl was wearing another new outfit. Today she had on a pale blue button up blouse that sported a snappy little sailor's collar and darker blue nautical scarf she'd neatly tied off in front. The ends of the scarf trailed off between her breasts hinting at their luxuriance.
