Tender Love - Stories - Goobbiegirl

Story added on 10/26/02

You know I can’t be found Sitting all alone If you can’t come around At least please telephone Don’t be cruel to a heart that’s true.....

The musky odor, a mix of black boot polish and leftover cigarette stains, enveloped the house as I walked in to see my husband on the couch, caressing a beer and fingering the remote. His shirt was pulled up over his pants and his pant buckles were left undone with his fly hanging low. He was laughing so hard from the commercial that he didn’t notice me enter the kitchen, put away all his empty beer bottles in the trash, and empty out his ashtrays. I was reluctant to have to wash all the stains from my hands in the kitchen sink before his next round of game shows came on. I was smothered with crimson gashes and the smell of cheap cologne. I wanted nothing more than to sit in the bathroom and relish my recent acquisition. To sit covered in their blood with the smell of cum in my hair while looking at my smile in the mirror, knowing full well I’d never be caught. And the rush of it all, intoxicating and liberating, to never even be suspected.

Honey, Honey, I love you too much I need your loving too much Want the thrill of your touch I can’t love you too much You do all the living While I do all the giving I love you too much.

I met Ernie by accident. I forgot the milk my mother wanted at the store for that night’s supper, and so I drove my 1981 LeSabre down to Mack’s Convenient Store to pick it up. It was suppose to be a quick in, quick out kind of run, but Ernie caught me by surprise with his laugh: a hacking that gnawed at my cranial in a way like a newborn squeals at birth. I couldn’t get that laugh out of my mind. He was leaning over the counter, his Levi’s all torn and splattered with mud, and he was talking to the girl behind the counter in a low whisper. I circled the store while eyeing the candy bar aisle, and could tell that he was turning his head over his shoulder to see if I was looking at him. I could tell he was all conscious of the way his body moved. This one vulnerability about him was enough to suck me in. I pushed my chest out further and cupped my hands in my back jean pockets just so. I played with my gold-plated, heart shaped locket around my neck with my teeth, sucking on a bent end of the chain. It worked because Ernie came over and asked me whether I wanted an ice-cream cone. When he asked me my favorite flavor, I replied, “dark cherry.” He sat across me on the picnic table outside the store as my tongue circled the cone, round and round, and I licked my fingers clean. He asked me to join him in his truck to catch the moon hitting the SugarGlass River just so, and I obediently obliged. The beating I received from mother that night for not bringing home the milk was not nearly as expected as the thrashing and poking of my cunt in the back-seat of Ernie’s pickup. I let him do with me as he desired. When he twisted my nipples too hard, or tugged my hair down towards him, all I kept thinking was, “I wonder how his face would look with a telephone cord wrapped around it.”

You may ask me why I ended up marrying a guy like Ernie, a man of few words and even fewer ambitions, but there was nothing complicated about it. He was rarely at home except in the evenings, and he was easily satisfied by the sound of the television and my home baked biscuits. He’d ask me to iron his work shirts or buy him some beer, and I gladly accepted. If I was good enough to look at that night, he’d pacify me by taking me into the green paisley printed bedroom, lay me down on the bed, and tell me what a bad wife I made and how undeserving I was to be getting touched at all. His lanky, hairy body didn’t bother me. I knew he smelled bad, but somehow this excited me even more. What really kept me there though, time and time again, and year after year, was this one little ritual Ernie started when we got married. He adored Elvis and just had to play him constantly in our bedroom. I think Ernie thought he looked a little like him because he had black hair. He became obsessed about combing his hair just so, or cocking his head back while crooning a tune along with him. He’d leave the record player on all day so that our bedroom resonated the sound of various songs. After awhile, I became fast friends with Elvis myself, and on numerous occasions, I decided to heed some of that good old fashioned advice about love. Seems to me a pity that no one cares to listen to what he has got to say, because if you listen real closely, its all right there.

Well they said you was high class But that was just a lie

I could always spot one a mile away. One of those types that just goes around looking at girls’ T-shirts for the freshest looking titties around. You can see them try not to look as a girl passes by them, but the minute her head is turned around, they’ll be checking her out from behind, peckers all hard. The day I was waiting for my car at Mill’s Mechanics, I saw one of those types: an older, well-dressed man in his forties, waiting next door at Peggy’s diner with a hot dog in hand. He was not from around here with those office pants on and how he carried his car keys , waiting for his precious baby to be ready for him. I saw him look my way, and he moved back a little, as if to get a closer look. I took my cue and bent over to pick up my napkin. I washed my hair that morning, and had even put a little make-up on, and so I knew I looked good. I smiled, one of those big-wide apple dumpling kind of smiles, and walked right on over to ask him where he was from.

Baby let me be Your loving teddy bear Put a chain around my neck And leave me anywhere Oh let me be Your loving Teddy Bear

I crossed my legs tightly as I balanced on top of one of the bar stools at McCool’s Saloon. Mr. Out-of-town had his chapped hand on the top of my thigh as he flirted with the bartender to pour him another Scotch. He kept telling me how pretty my smile was, and how sweet a girl he thought me to be. I had removed my wedding band earlier that day, and made a point to bring the toolbox in the truck. I kept looking at the crevice of his shirt, where you could see his neck turn flush, and I began fixating on his skin. He decided to flirt a little. I humored him.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a town like this?” he asked.

“Oh you know. Just not had a chance to be anywhere else. You get use to the people. Never been anything to take me away from here. Kinda becomes familiar in that safe kind of way, ya know?”

“Well I bet if you were with me, I’d take you places that would blow your mind away. Tropical places where the sand is pale and the sky is clear blue. Just like your eyes,”he murmured.

“Oh really? I’ve never been anywhere besides here. I bet you’ve traveled a lot huh?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea. I’ve been all over and yet I’ve never seen eyes the likes of yours.” He inched closer to me. His fingers slid up my leg.

He ordered a drink. And another. And just one more.

He had still been talking about that dreamy place when I lured him to Governor's Inn Motel and shut the door.

Don’t...Don’t....That’s what you say...Each time that I hold you this way...When I feel like this...And I want to kill you baby..Don’t say don’t....Don’t...Don’t...Leave my embrace..For hear my heart is your place

He had been so drunk that he hadn’t even realized how I got him into the room. I helped him to the bed and told him to get undressed. He was muttering something while I shut the curtains and turned up the television. I surveyed the room and was able to spot a large vase holding a plastic flower arrangement. It was located on the table stand next to the bed. I told him to pull down his pants and grab his dick. He kept trying to say “honey” over and over but it came out more like “hon-EYYY, hon-EYYY” and his clothes smelled like an ashtray, and when I stood over his body, I could see his eyes were half-slits and his tongue was rolling around his mouth, waiting for a prize. I slid the corner of my heel into his chest, down his stomach, and over his balls. He was “oooing” and “aahhhing” like one of those movies, and my pulse was steady and hot, surveying his entire body. His head jingled like a gum ball machine when the vase smashed across his face, and the chain I wrapped around his neck clenched his breath. I held his head till his pasty face went from pink to purple then blue. I kissed his forehead and headed home in time to serve Ernie dinner and watch an All In The Family rerun.

If you think that this is just a game I’d play it If you think that I don’t mean every word I’m saying Don’t...Don’t...

Not everyone is chosen. Some people receive the gift, and others walk blindly in the world without the faintest clue as to what time Tuesday came. I always knew I was kinda different, in that nothing scared me off right away. When I heard Elvis Presley sing about love and getting it right with his baby, I knew I was hearing the truth for the first time in my life. Everything made sense after that. I had always needed someone to look up to, to make sense of the world to me, and when he sang to me, I understood every word perfectly. It wasn’t about fighting or being sad with someone. It was all about giving them your love, your special gift.

Love me tender Love me true e Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so Love me Tender Love me true All my dreams fulfilled For my darlin, I love you And I always will.....

I was always a sucker for blondes. Their radiance, their light shining through their skin, the way the world seemed to look up to them. When Ernie decided to take me by his shop to help him carry his new power tools back home, I was introduced to one of his shop hands, Leroy “the Lion” Shaefer. Everyone called him “Lion” because of the way he held his long hair all loose and wavy. He had a tattoo on his upper right arm of a crucifix with a dove, and his fingers were laced with motor oil and grit. Ernie told me to wait outside the garage until he carried the tools out and I’d help him load it onto the truck. I watched him go inside and through the window, I watched with ardent detail how Lion directed Ernie to the back of the garage while he, stood facing in my direction, with his grin open wide and his desire popping out.

It’s now or never Come hold me tight Kiss me my darlin Be mine tonight Tomorrow will be too late It’s now or never My love won’t wait When I first saw you With your smile so tender My heart was captured My soul surrendered.....

The shop squeaked as I tiptoed back after midnight, waiting for Lion to meet me. I had never desired someone so much in my lifetime. His smell, his taste, his body movements all melted into mine and the way he moaned and breathed heavy in my ears turned my body into a valley of wetness. He almost had me forgetting what I was there for until he started talking to me.

“Baby doll, I could hardly resist tasting you when I first saw you this afternoon,” he cooed.

“Really? And I thought you looked at all the girls like that. You’re just playin nice, that’s all,” I replied playfully.

“Nooo, I’ve always had a thing about shy types. You’ve needed someone to break you in for years. According to Ernie, you’ve been nagging and cold. He said he was bored with ‘ya, but I just told him that he needed to relight a fire under ya,” he cackled.

“Oh really? And how much warmer do you want to go?” I challenged.

“Baby, I want to burn inside of you.......”

“Lion, I’m gonna make you see just how hot I can be. I’ve been saving it all for you..”

The Scarsdale Tribune read: LOCAL MAN MYSTERIOUSLY BURNED IN SHOP FIRE. The entire town just figured that Lion left his gas on, and that he fell asleep without realizing what happened. When Ernie spoke of it over breakfast, he mentioned how now he was going to have to work later hours working over at Till’s Garage. He grabbed his lunch from the counter, put his coat on and told me to make his favorite sherperd’s pie for dinner that night.

He hadn’t even realized that my hands were blistered purple.

The town only got worried when there was a rumor that a serial killer was preying on gay men. It never occurred to anyone that it could be a woman. This made me even more upset, because I wanted it to be known that the kind of love that was being dished out could only come from the deep place of a woman. My anger festered inside of me for days while I was kept in the house during Ernie’s bout of the flu. He become so cantankerous that I was on call nearly all of the time. His “bring me some of this” and “bring me some of that” had me pacing and rushing nearly all of the time. I hardly had a minute to myself and it was eating at me whole. He was nesting in our bedroom to alleviate some of his chest congestion, and so now I could hear Elvis crooning even from downstairs in the kitchen. He’d sometimes cry to a particular song, and I’d go up there and see him holding a record in his arms, half-asleep.

I don’t know when it came over me precisely, but I do remember which song it was that was playing at the time. It kept skipping beats, and Ernie started getting more and more frustrated and ill-tempered, and he kept calling out my name, over and over, till I came running up the stairs. He’d bark at me to get him another pillow, or move his feeding tray to the side, or change his slippers. I’d ask him to turn down the music so the neighbors wouldn’t complain and he’d say, “fuck the neighbors.” The room took on an aura of its own, and I could almost feel the tremulous asphyxiation encompassing all around.

We’re caught in a trap It can’t work out But I love you too much baby, too much baby. Why can’t you see What you’re doing to me When you don’t believe A word I’m saying We can’t go on together With suspicious lies And we can’t complete our dreams With suspicious lies...

When he ordered me to get undressed for him, it was as if I was seventeen again. Here, all flem-contained and ash-ridden, Ernie still desired to play with his toy. I moved around that room, round and round, and with each piece of clothing that came undone, it was as if I was Elvis’s equal, a true rock star. I was lip-synching to the words and Ernie kept playing with his thing, and I became delirious with the beat and the roar of my own anticipation. It was Ernie’s laugh that set me off. He heckled in rhythms that were piercing to my ear, and I wanted to shut him up so that I could hear the soft crooning of my Elvis. But no--! He wouldn’t stop laughing at me. He was mocking my moment, and I knew then that he could not stand in the way of me and my love. My savage mind took over and in that moment, every bestial desire I had came in rounds. I lunged with fists open and eyes venom-filled towards his puny skull that contained the despicable sound I had grown to abhor. I watched in delirious enchantment as Ernie clenched for air, and I sang and sang and sang; it wasn’t even that hard to do, suffocating his face with the stocking I had worn only moments earlier. His eyes kept twitching and rocking back and forth, side to side, and I could even feel his feet dancing underneath the sheets in thunderous rhythms. The current of life was slipping from his grip and although he struggled hard, he was no match for my rampage. When his pulse ceased, I rested my naked body on top of his, and sang, “you ain’t nothin but a hound dog.....crying...all.....the.....time.”

Careful to not break the mattress spring boards from standing on the bed, I leaned over Ernie’s lifeless body to see myself in the mirror opposite the room. I began swiveling my hips side to side, tucking in my pride, and blowing a kiss to the man who motioned me to the stage of heartache. I was ready for his love and done with all the rest.

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