I met Rachel in the produce department of the grocery store. I was picking out my weekly supply of fruit. mangoes, kiwis, papaya, plums, pears, apples. She asked how to pick out a good papaya, and if kiwifruit was good to eat. “You have to peel them, right?”
“No. Cut them in half, and scoop the fruit out.”
We had Mochas in the store’s Starbucks café. She had the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen. We talked about fruit. It surprised me when she asked me to help her make a fruit salad. “I got volunteered to bring a fruit salad to the office party tomorrow, and I have no idea what to do.”
Of course, I said I’d help.
We picked out a pineapple, four different types of apples, bananas, grapes, and cherries. We added a bag of coconut, and a few other odds and ends, then checked out, and went to her place.
We washed the fruit, sliced it, and mixed it together, stirring in the coconut, a touch of sugar (not much), and the other ingredients. She asked me to show her how to cut the pineapple. Then she tried to cut it. I wound up standing behind her, looking over her shoulder, my hands guiding hers, teaching her to slice up the apples and bananas.
When we finished the salad, she asked if I’d like a drink, as a reward for all the help. We wound up downing half a bottle of Cabernet Blanc. “You’re not in any condition to drive. Sleep here tonight.” Well, you know how it goes. We woke up naked, in her bed.
We met for dinner the next night, and I stayed at her place again. She was a work of art, with curves in all the right places. It was like my hands had to move all over her. All the rules dropped away, and we went crazy.
Rachel was my fantasy woman. The one that does everything you want, and begs you for more. The one with no rules. No limits. No taboos.
I loved every square inch of her. And when I ran out of things to try, she made suggestions.
Only an idiot would have said no.
Oh, I knew it wouldn’t last. Each morning, I expected her to say, “Don’t come back. Don’t call me.” Each morning she didn’t, I went through my day imagining all the sex we’d have that night. All the things we’d try.
It lasted ten nights. The first nine night were sheer bliss. Ecstasy. I slept exhausted, in her bed, holding her naked body. My hands on her perfect breasts.
The tenth night, as we reached her place, she looked up at the sky. “The sun will set soon, won’t it?”
“Lets not wait.”
She pulled me inside, shut the door, and we got naked right there, screwing in the foyer as the sun set, and night replaced day. When we finished, she pulled me to the TV room. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“What are you up to?”
“It’s a surprise.” She gave me this sly look, and licked her lips.
My brain cells screamed at me, “Yes! Oh, this is gonna be good! This is gonna be fun! I can’t wait to find out what she’s planning!”
While I waited for her to come back, I watched the moon rise through the patio door. A full moon. Full moons were always beautiful. That one was no different. I heard her come back into the room, but I didn’t turn from the window. “Come over here and surprise me,” I encouraged her.
That’s when I felt her claws sink into my back, followed by her teeth sink into my neck. I couldn’t breathe, as she lowered me to the floor. She surprised me, alright, as she stood on her hind feet, stared at the moon, and howled.
Then, she turned back to me, and sunk her claws into my chest.
I’d always known my fling with Rachel would end badly. I’d always known my heart would be torn apart when she said, “We’re through.” I just never imagined she’d literally rip it out and eat it.