We drove up the Pacific Coast Highway. Last time I drove it was in ’86 in a Chrysler LeBaron GTS that probably weighed half what the Bentley did, much less with five people in it. Messa definitely could drive. We made it to the Atkinson estate about an hour sooner than I expected. She whipped the car into the climate controlled Garage beneath the main house. I climbed out and admired the stable of cars inside. The ladies stood in awe at the gleaming row of cars until Messa said “I was quite happy to be his wife.”
It brought the mood down more than a bit until she said “…but he was quite happy to kill his wife so, fuck it, girls, let me show you my house.”
While Messa gave them the tour I walked into the entertainment room where the VIP guests were attended to while Messa hung from her cross. On the bar was a remote control that operated everything from the massive TV to drapes and wall of windows, to the sound system. I opened draped then the window panels. I turned on the TV then the sound system. The music channels they had were far more extensive than what was available on cable or satellite. I settled on “Obscure Classic Rock” and fixed a Seagram’s and water. As I walked out to the covered patio Mick Ronson’s “Life’s Too Short” hit the speakers.
“No shit” I said to the empty room. Then I looked up the hill and saw Messa’s cross still standing there silhouetted against the blue sky and hisses “Oh, shit!”
Just about that time I heard Messa on the deck above yell “Holy shit!”
I thought she had seen the cross but then she yelled “Look, it’s my driver’s license, my passport, new credit cards, and Jesus fucking Christ, a wad of cash!”
I suspected it wouldn’t be long before she realized that it wasn’t my legal skills but Mr. Wu’s greasing of palms that had made everything go so quickly. I walked down to the guest house I had stayed in before. I drank a lot. Try to imagine it…
The sun was getting low when there was a knock on the door I had left open. Messa’s voice echoed through the house “It’s me, Tree, don’t shoot.”
“Come on in. I’m on the patio”.
She walked out on the deck stark naked except for her tag and Nailus Martyr shoes. She walked to one of the arches and stretched. “I was going to were the blue dress that Gunner washed but I think I’ll have to save it until I have a daughter about six years old.”
She looked stunning as the low sun shone around and through her body with her hair in a pair of pigtails. “Tree, Thank you for all you’ve done for me. It was a nice touch leaving my cross there. Do you think we could…”
“Why don’t you think about it tonight, Messa?”
“…Because I need a fuck now. I’m alive. It’s not a ‘thank you’ fuck, or ‘I love you’ fuck. Crap, Tree, don’t you ever just fuck?”
I have on occasion…
tree
It brought the mood down more than a bit until she said “…but he was quite happy to kill his wife so, fuck it, girls, let me show you my house.”
While Messa gave them the tour I walked into the entertainment room where the VIP guests were attended to while Messa hung from her cross. On the bar was a remote control that operated everything from the massive TV to drapes and wall of windows, to the sound system. I opened draped then the window panels. I turned on the TV then the sound system. The music channels they had were far more extensive than what was available on cable or satellite. I settled on “Obscure Classic Rock” and fixed a Seagram’s and water. As I walked out to the covered patio Mick Ronson’s “Life’s Too Short” hit the speakers.
“No shit” I said to the empty room. Then I looked up the hill and saw Messa’s cross still standing there silhouetted against the blue sky and hisses “Oh, shit!”
Just about that time I heard Messa on the deck above yell “Holy shit!”
I thought she had seen the cross but then she yelled “Look, it’s my driver’s license, my passport, new credit cards, and Jesus fucking Christ, a wad of cash!”
I suspected it wouldn’t be long before she realized that it wasn’t my legal skills but Mr. Wu’s greasing of palms that had made everything go so quickly. I walked down to the guest house I had stayed in before. I drank a lot. Try to imagine it…
The sun was getting low when there was a knock on the door I had left open. Messa’s voice echoed through the house “It’s me, Tree, don’t shoot.”
“Come on in. I’m on the patio”.
She walked out on the deck stark naked except for her tag and Nailus Martyr shoes. She walked to one of the arches and stretched. “I was going to were the blue dress that Gunner washed but I think I’ll have to save it until I have a daughter about six years old.”
She looked stunning as the low sun shone around and through her body with her hair in a pair of pigtails. “Tree, Thank you for all you’ve done for me. It was a nice touch leaving my cross there. Do you think we could…”
“Why don’t you think about it tonight, Messa?”
“…Because I need a fuck now. I’m alive. It’s not a ‘thank you’ fuck, or ‘I love you’ fuck. Crap, Tree, don’t you ever just fuck?”
I have on occasion…
tree