After Midnight

36
INVADER

At any time of the day or night, I hate the sound of a doorbell. It almost always means someone has shown up uninvited.
An intruder is barging into your life.
Invading.
No matter what, it’s annoying and a little scary.
But just try having the doorbell ring when you’re naked in the bedroom of a guy you hardly know, you’re tied down, and your legs are spread apart about as far as they’ll go.
When I heard that doorbell, I felt as if someone had shot a hose full of ice water up my bowels.
I froze.
The bell rang again.
Nobody’s home! Go away!
What if it’s the cops?
So what if it is? I told myself. Cops can’t come into a place without being invited. Not unless they have a search warrant.
They can’t possibly have a search warrant.
Can they?
The bell rang again.
GO AWAY!
Calm down, I told myself. Whoever it is, they can’t get in. Sooner or later, they’ll give up and go away.
Again, the bell rang.
Persistent…
What if it’s burglars?
They do that. They pick a place that looks deserted. But before they break in, they ring the doorbell to make sure nobody is home. If someone comes to the door, they have a little story to tell. “Is Doug there? No? Oh, I must have the wrong address.” But if nobody answers the doorbell, they figure the place is empty and safe to rob.
In they come…
And find me like this.
Should I call out?
And say what? I’m here, but I can’t come to the door right now! Like I’m on the john, or something. Could you come back in a few minutes?
No, I thought. Don’t do it. Keep your mouth shut.
The little town of Chester has its share of crime. I mean, what place doesn’t? But the odds had to be slim that the doorbell was being rung by a burglar. Especially when you consider that, since just after last midnight, I’d run into a weirdo flasher and a serial killer. On top of all that, a burglar? Not likely.
Not impossible, either. But…
Someone used a key on the front door. I heard its quiet ratchety sound as it slid into a lock, heard the latch click back, heard the knob rattle, heard a sigh of hinges as the door swung open.
Shit! Now what?
A man’s voice called out, “Murphy? Yo, Murph? You home? Helllllo? It’s only me from across the sea!” He waited a few seconds, then said, “Yo ho ho, guess you’re not home.”
I heard the door shut, but I didn’t know whether he was inside or out.
Until I heard his footsteps on the carpet.
Great! I’m gonna get found!
Some creep I don’t even know is gonna see me like this.
He must be Murphy’s best friend or brother or something. You don’t give a spare key to just anyone.
This guy is about to have the surprise of his life.
I heard the television come on. It sounded like CNN’s Headline News.
That’s right, I thought. Sit down in the living room and watch some TV news. Just stay put. Don’t move. Murphy’ll be home pretty soon. He’ll figure a way to steer you out of the place, and you’ll never be the wiser.
From the TV came a nifty British voice talking about tribal massacres in some African country. Zaire or Rwanda or some damn place.
Suddenly, during a pause in the broadcast, I heard footsteps again. These were quiet, as if the intruder had taken off his shoes.
What’s he doing?
Going into the kitchen for a beer?
The only route to the kitchen—or just about anywhere else in the apartment—would take him past the open bedroom door.
Maybe he won’t look in.
Fat chance.
I shut my eyes and went limp.
The footsteps suddenly stopped. The intruder said, “Whoa!”
I kept my eyes shut and tried to keep my breathing shallow and slow.
Let him think I’m out cold or dead or something. I sure didn’t want to strike up a conversation with the guy.
“What the hell’s going on here?” he muttered, and came walking slowly into the room. “Lady?” he asked.
I didn’t stir.
He said, “My God, what’s Murphy done?”
He sounded as if he were standing at the foot of the bed. I tried not to think about the view he had. But I could feel myself blushing.
I was blushing, sweating, and my heart was pounding fast. Couldn’t he see any of that?
Not where he’s probably looking.
“Wow,” he said. “Oh, Murphy, Murphy. How’d you land a babe like this?”
Down between my legs, the mattress sank in.
The mattress shook, making me wobble.
What’s he doing?
A hand patted me on the thigh. Very high up on my thigh.
“Hello?” he asked. “Young lady? Can you hear me?”
I didn’t respond.
“Must be out cold,” he muttered.
Moments later, a light fabric fell across my face.
Then two hands were gently caressing my thighs. “What a piece,” he muttered. “Man, oh man. Murph, you lucky dog. No wonder you tied her down. Couldn’t let something like this get away from you.”
His tongue got me. I gasped and flinched with the sudden shock of it, and knew the game was up. With no more need to play possum, I writhed as his mouth stayed where it was and his hands roamed up my body and found my breasts. He caressed them, gently massaged them, squeezed my nipples and pulled while his tongue flicked and delved. Soon, I was panting, thrashing against the ropes.
His mouth lifted off me. “Looks like I’ve awakened Sleeping Beauty. Does this mean I’m a prince?”
It was the same, fake voice.
But this time, I recognized the mind behind it.
“You bastard!” I gasped out.
Opening my eyes, I found a pale blue shirt on top of my face.
Murphy swept it aside and smiled down at me. He was kneeling between my legs, totally naked and erect.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“What do you think?”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“Good,” he said. Then he came down and planted his mouth on my mouth and pushed himself slowly into me until I had all of him. Then he pulled most of the way out, and thrust in so hard that the ropes bit into my ankles and I yelped into his mouth.
He murmured, “Sorry.”
Then he clutched me by the shoulders to hold me still so the ropes wouldn’t hurt me again.
And went at it.
He went crazy on me, plunging and ramming as if he needed to get someplace where nobody’d ever gone before.
By damn, I think he succeeded.
He blew the roof off the joint, so to speak.
I’d never gone through anything like it. My guess is, neither had he.
When he was done, he stayed inside and settled down heavily on top of me, gasping for air. When he could talk, he said, “Are you okay?”
I answered by flexing some muscles down there.
He said, “Ooooh.”
After a while, I said, “That was a rotten trick, you know.”
“Huh?”
“Faking me out. Pretending you were somebody else.”
“Oh. That. Yeah. Figured I owed you one.”
“Very nice.”
“I enjoyed it,” he said.
“You’ve got a real mean streak,” I told him.
“That makes two of us.”
“So, did you get the money okay?”
“Yep. Everything went smooth as silk.”
I gave him a couple more flexes, and felt him starting to grow.
“How come no condom?” I asked.
“Didn’t see much point. Not after the way you got me before.”
“For which you decided to pay me back by impersonating a stranger and scaring me shitless.”
“Not exactly.”
“No?”
“That’s just…the way it turned out. What I’d planned to do was come straight in, strip naked and jump on you. No tricks. But when I showed up, there was a bunch of Jehovah’s Witnesses at the front door.”
“You’re kidding. That was a Jehovah’s Witness ringing the doorbell?”
“Yep.”
“Never figured that.”
“I figured you were probably freaking.”
“I wasn’t freaking.”
He laughed. It felt strange and great, the way he shook on top of me and deep inside me while he laughed.
“I might’ve been mildly concerned,” I admitted.
He laughed some more.
“What freaked me,” I explained, “was when some sneaky, rotten son-of-a-bitch unlocked the door and came in.”
“That was me,” he said.
I said, “Duh.”
He laughed again.
“Bastard.”
“You loved it.”
“Not the trick, I didn’t. That really stank.”
“Who did you think I was?”
“One of your horny buddies. Or maybe a brother.”
“Whoever you thought I was, you must’ve liked him. I didn’t hear any complaints.”
“That’s only because I was trying to play possum.”
“If you hadn’t been playing possum, you would’ve seen right away that it was only me. The moment I walked into the bedroom. I didn’t throw the shirt over your face until pretty far along.”
“What if I hadn’t figured it was you?” I asked. “Were you just going to screw me and leave, so I’d go on thinking it was someone else?”
“I knew you’d recognize me. I’m surprised it took you as long as it did.”
“It was the prince crack,” I explained, and had to smile.
“Ah, well.”
“When I heard that, I knew it was you.”
“Not only beautiful, but smart.”
“That’s me,” I said. Turning my head, I kissed the side of his face. Then I asked, “You gonna let me up, now?”
“Maybe I will and maybe I won’t.”
“My hands and feet are numb.”
“Oh. Uh-oh.” He pushed himself up and slid out of me. Frowning, he said, “I should’ve untied you first thing. I didn’t realize the ropes were that tight. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s fine.”
Kneeling over my chest, he leaned forward, reached out with both hands, and started trying to untie my left wrist.
It reminded me a lot of my Judy dream.
Except that Judy’d had breasts and a knife.
Soon, Murphy managed to pluck open the knot. He loosened the rope around my wrist, and I pulled my hand free. It really was numb. I shook it, trying to get some feeling back, while he worked on the knot at my other wrist.
“I shouldn’t have made these so tight,” he muttered.
“Had to make it look good.”
“Not really,” he said. “I came back without any cops.”
“See? It worked.”
He laughed, and kept on struggling with the knot.
With circulation coming back, my left hand began to feel hot and get pins and needles. I kept flapping it around and wiggling my fingers.
“This one’s sure tight,” he said.
“Maybe you should get a knife.”
“Yeah. That might save a lot of trouble.”
He tried for another few seconds, then climbed off me and the bed.
“Back in a second,” he said.
I raised my head off the pillow and watched him stride toward the doorway. His tan stopped just above his rear end, and started again at the tops of his legs. His ass looked pale as cream, and smooth. The firm, round buttocks took turns flexing as he walked.
In the doorway, he turned around.
I liked the front view better.
Leaning sideways, he rested a shoulder against the door frame and smiled at me. “Can I get you anything else while I’m in the kitchen? A glass of water for your Morning Dehydration Syndrome? A Pepsi? A beer?”
“Just hurry, okay? If I’m tied up much longer, something may have to get amputated.”
He raised his eyebrows. “If anything has to come off, may I have it?”