The SoapBoxers

Home Away From Home

July 6, 2012

kosmo - See all 763 of my articles

First brand new short story in a while – enjoy!

Damon Brinker sighed with relief as the bus bounced its way into the station. The driving slammed on the brakes and sent passengers flying into the seat in from of them. That’s par for the course, he thought. A fifteen hundred mile journey on a run-down bus with barely functional air conditioning and a driver with erratic skills and a surly attitude to boot.

Damon waited for the crush of people to exit the bus before stepping down to the street. He grabbed his bags and headed into the dimly lit terminal.

He got his first good news of the day when he saw a man holding up sign with his name on it. Damon quickened his pace, happy to be leaving the station.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m Damon.” Damon said extending his hand.

“Not your fault.” the man said with a smile, grasping Damon’s hand. “The bus is never on time.”

Twenty minutes later the pickup truck pulled into a driveway. The house was well-maintained, but of a modest size. Beyond the house, Damon could make out the majestic peaks in the fading light. He smiled at the thought of two weeks of hiking in the mountains.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” The voice came from a woman who had materialized while Damon had been gazing at the mountains. He noticed the pickup backing out of the driveway.

Tami showed him to his room, which had a window with a view of the mountains. Once again, Damon was captivated by the natural beauty. After a few minutes of mountain gazing, he sat down on the bed and pulled out his cell phone. No signal.

As he was unpacking, there was a knock on the door.

“I got a bath ready for you. Figured you’d want one after the bus ride.”

Yes, a bath was exactly what Damon wanted. The unpacking could wait. He knew that he was saving a lot of money by arranging for a host family via the internet, but the level of hospitality could be hit and miss. It looked like his roll of the dice had turned out well.

He opened the door and walked toward the bathroom. A towel and robe were laid out, and a Tami had drawn a warm bubble bath. He quickly shed his clothes and slid down into the tub. The warm, sudsy water washed away the dirty feeling of too much time on a crowded bus. By the time Damon stepped out of water, his skin was starting to get a bit wrinkled. He dried off, put on the robe, and cinched the belt.

When he re-entered his room, he saw his hostess lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a revealing nightie. For a moment, he thought that he had wandered into the wrong room by mistake.

And then he knew he hadn’t.

“Troy’s at his weekly poker tournament. He won’t be back for hours. We have plenty of time to play.”

Damon was tempted, but knew that this was a mistake. As he stood motionless, Tami slid out of the bed and approached him. She unfastened the robe and let it fall to the floor. She stood on her tip toes to give Damon a kiss, and the decision was made. This one night, Damon was choosing to ignore his moral compass.

 

Hours later, Tami kissed him one last time and disappeared down the hall. Thirty seconds later, Damon succumbed to pleasure-induced exhaustion and fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Damon, Tami, and Troy made small talk as Tami prepared breakfast. Troy chattered on about his luck at cards, unaware that he had been cuckolded. Damon and Tami shared secret glances, and Damon looked forward to next week, when Troy would once again leave the house for his weekly poker game.

Tami bent a bit lower than necessary as she set a cup of coffee in front of him. He enjoyed the viewed and wondered if Troy had other nighttime engagements. He smiled and took a gulp of coffee.

Damon suddenly felt hands closing around his throat as he struggled to breathe. He was being choked by Troy, who was perhaps not unaware of last night’s events. He glanced hopefully toward Tami and noticed that she had grabbed a pistol – but it was pointed right at him.

 

Troy threw a final shovelful of dirt over the grave and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. The new victim was arriving tonight. This was such an enjoyable game.
 

 

Fiction Friday
Crime