Read Online Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305 by Robert Decoteau - Free Book Online

 
     
     
    APT. 305
     
     
    “ Baby, please,” Charles
begged.
    “Why do you doing this every time?”
Mariana asked with her thick Spanish accent, stamping her foot, “I
tol’ you it is jus’ a job, jus’ work, Charlie. Now get out of the
way so I don’t be late again.”
    Charles hated having to do this in the
courtyard for all the neighbors to see. He wiped his forehead and
took a half step towards his wife so she would hear his quiet
words.
    “ But, baby, we talked about
this,” Charles said in a low voice, “I have a lot of money, I have
enough that you don’t have to work anymore.”
    “I know, Charlie,” she replied, putting
on her pouty face, the face she made when she wanted to get her
way, “but I need to work, I always take care of myself.”
    He loved her accent. He
loved her long legs and her thick mane of wavy, black hair. He
loved the tits that he had bought for her as a wedding gift. He
loved everything about her but her job. Four years running, she had
been the main attraction at Rendezvous , the hottest strip club
in the Seattle area. Charles used to be a regular there, back when
his mother was still alive. He would go there straight from work
three or four nights a week and stay until well into the early
morning hours. Avoiding his mother and her incessant complaining
had been a big part of it, but mostly he went to see
Mariana.
    She had caught his eye the very first
day she got up on the main stage and awkwardly flung herself
around, trying to be provocative. When her song was over, he had
hurried to intercept her as she carefully plodded down the three
stairs. She hadn’t yet developed the knack of walking in eight inch
heels either. She had been wearing an embarrassed and bashful
expression when he came to stand in front of her. He had wiped his
sweaty hands on the front of his slacks nervously then offered his
hand to shake.
    “I’m Charles,” he had said.
    She looked down at his hand, back up at
him, and back down at his hand again, timid, like a little mouse.
Finally, she clutched his hand with her fingertips and gave it a
little shake, so demur.
    “So what’s your name?” Charles had
asked.
    “Marianna,” she had said, “… I mean,
Destiny.”
    Destiny, it sounded so lovely the way
she said it in her Spanish accent. That was the day Charles began
to believe in destiny, the day he fell in love.
    “Can I have a dance?” Charles had
asked, using his cocktail napkin to wipe the sweat off his upper
lip.
    She looked around the small club as if
she had lost someone and then turned back to him.
    “Maybe you like to try one different
girl,” she had said, “I am, how you say… new and…” she
shrugged.
    “I don’t mind,” Charles had said with a
smile.
    He had spent over two thousand dollars
that day. Over and over he had paid for one lap dance after
another. She would go off to take her breaks or have to take her
turn on the main stage, but the rest of the time, she was with him.
By the end of her shift, she had learned a lot. She had become
comfortable on stage as well as dancing for him. Charles had become
comfortable too, so comfortable that he had ejaculated in his
boxers twice towards the end of the evening.
    ~ You’re a dirty pervert,
Charles Grimly; you’re a dirty, nasty little boy. ~
    Quiet Mother.
    “Charlie... Charlie!” Mariana snapped
her fingers in front of his eyes, “Awe, forget it, I’m going to be
late.”
    She spun on her heels and began
clomping across the courtyard again, digging in her purse for her
keys.
    Charles blinked away the memories and
wiped his upper lip with the paper towel clutched in his hand. He
glanced around as if trying to remember where he was or what had
brought him outside.
    ~ That Whore. ~
    Mother,
please .
    Charles raced after his young
wife.
    “Baby, please, just give me a few
minutes to talk,” he said, moving to block her path.
    “We’ve been over this a dozen time!”
Mariana shouted, “I’m sick of this chit,