A Chapter

Dr. Feensley entered his office and flipped the lights on. “What a great meeting,” said Feensley aloud. He sat down in his chair with a magnanimous thud.

“Good morning, Doug,” said Sharise as she entered the room. “Excellent sermon Saturday…it made me feel so alive.”

Her pale skin glistened as she glided around the room. The blue in her eyes accented the blue of her short, tight skirt.

“Do you want me to cancel your 10:30?” Sharise held his appointment book lightly under her arm.

“No, no,” said the doctor. “But, I can meet you for lunch.” He shot her a quick smile.

“Sounds great,” she said with a devilish grin. She walked past his desk and leaned over the desk, exposing her breasts almost to the nipples. She gently placed Feensley’s appointment book on his lap. His eyes followed her every movement as she slowly exited the room.

***

Sharise pulled the shiny, black BMW in behind the house and flipped up the parking brake just like always. Like anyone, she was a creature of habit.

Now, everyone has a story—a theme, if you will, that runs through their lives. Sharise never left anything to chance. Her cold, calculating mind was never without a first, second, third, and fourth plan.

Feensley’s summer house was better furnished than most everyday homes. The wooden floors were immaculate. The chandeliers were comprised of the finest, most precious crystal. The mahogany bookshelves were full of finely bound books that had never been read. Every facet of the home looked and smelled of tremendous wealth.

Sharise locked the car and slinked through the back door. She waved coldly at EJ as he looked up from pruning the vines in an adjacent garden. EJ smiled a contented and bemused smile and then went back to work.

Sharise could never figure EJ out. When she looked into the eyes of most men, their stare lost focus and they seemed to melt on the inside. Others ogled her like a prized possession; something that they wanted desperately to obtain and master.

EJ’s eyes didn’t send any signals with which she was familiar. She shook the confusion from her mind, put her key in the lock, and opened the heavy, oak back door.

“Is lunch in the bag?”

Sharise turned to locate the voice in the dimly lit room. Her eyes caught a glimpse of Feensley’s plump, naked body. When their eyes met, he grinned widely like a kid on a carousel.

“You can save lunch for later,” said Feensley. “Let’s get down to work.”

He was already fully aroused with anticipation and lust. Sharise hid her disgust well. She looked him up and down and let out a forced squeal of rapture. Sharise pounced on Feensley: a leopard attacking its prey.

Her cunning methods were equally quick and awe-inspiring. Her clothes were off in a flash of rage and within seconds she had ridden him into submission. Just then, the door opened and slammed into the wall. This was not the first time Feensley and Sharise had rendezvoused at the summer house and it would not be the last. It would, however, become the most memorable.