Читать книгу A Thin Place - Jack Peterson - Страница 18

January 25, 1990

San Diego, California

On the morning that baby Scott Robbins turned two months old, Celia left home early. She pointed her car south on the San Diego Freeway, mentally rehashing a monologue she knew she had delivered far too many times to too many men. She was twenty-seven years old and had always placed her career as a pharmaceutical representative ahead of casual romance, frequently terminating many potentially promising relationships. She was on her way to do it once again.

She met Dr. Emil Lundgren weeks earlier, during a company sponsored holiday party onboard a small cruise ship sailing the San Diego shoreline. When one too many glasses of wine precipitated a rise in her libido, her inhibitions disappeared, and she started looking for a potential single night partner. A half inch short of six feet tall, she was athletic, demonstrably intelligent and had dark blond hair randomly accented by lighter neutral slices. For her, finding a partner had never been a problem. When she spotted Lundgren, she moved in. He was a moderately handsome thirty-four year old pediatrician and, according to his mild protests that evening, he was a happily married man. The fact that his wife was not aboard suddenly made him a personal challenge. He was fair game. Sex had been on a seven-month hiatus from her life and, while she knew how to pleasure herself, it was time for the real thing.

Using every professional salesmanship skill in her arsenal, it took her less than an hour that night to convince her prey to toss any cautions he may have overboard and follow her home to her La Jolla apartment. He had two things she wanted, a penis and what looked to be a very sensitive mouth. For her, it was pure, wonderful sex and neither left anything to the imagination. When she audibly declared what she wanted, he obliged her every whim, eventually introducing one of his own by turning her over abruptly and positioning himself behind her on his knees. She surprised herself when she remained still. Her only experience with anal penetration years earlier had been both physically and mentally uncomfortable, but she offered no objections. There had been no time for modesty. It was non-existent on both sides.

The month that followed the holiday party included several discrete mid-day trysts in her apartment. She wasn’t proud of her indiscretions, but had no regrets. Allowing her hormones to take precedence over decorum had happened before and she was sure it would eventually happen again but, for now, she felt a need to take care of business, refocus, and concentrate on her career without the distracting complications of a romantic partner. She also knew the time would come when she could no longer self-regulate her personal physical needs. It just meant the process would repeat itself and the hunt for a new lover would eventually begin once again. She was just a mile away from ending one more indiscretion. She was about to have the same one-sided conversation she had with previous lovers. It seemed simple enough, but something was different. She could feel it.