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Anarchy in the Province of Love, Part Four (mature content)Aug 30 '04 Write an essay on this topic.The Bottom Line Copyright 2004 David MacDonald Part One: http://www.epinions.com/content_4073889924 Part Two: http://www.epinions.com/content_4073955460 Part Three: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074020996 Part Four: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074086532 Part Five: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074414212 Part Six: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074479748 Part Seven, Conclusion: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074545284 * ~Bronwyn~ “Ah, it’s much better out here.”, Bronwyn bellowed. “There’s too many unwanted folk in places like that....... I’d rather be with people I know.” She quietly, yet insistently, convinced her birthday guests to sever their devotion to this club at this time. Bronwyn’s pockets soon became like gossamer, its weight evaporating with each drink she purchased. The thought of spending more money than necessary managed to penetrate her intoxication. “.... my place is a lot better. At least I don’t have to worry about sticky chairs and boorish men who are strangers to me, yet who manage to hit on me as if I am supposed to have known them forever.......”, she comments lucidly despite her drunkenness. And with that comment, she arched her legs awkwardly closer to Matthew. She leaned against him as they walked, pressing her weight against his arm in hopes that he’d be able to keep her from tumbling to the hard concrete. “Do you consider me a stranger?”, Matthew joked, wrapping his arm along the small of her back. “Well, howdy, stranger!”, she warbled. Then she giggled, abruptly and inexplicably. Pamela observed this clumsy flirtation. She surmised that this was her friend up to her old tricks. Typically, however, she would sneak away with her prey, when nobody else was aware. But tonight, Bronwyn hailed everyone to follow her footsteps back to her place. God, wasn’t she truly drunk. “Hey, Pam.....”, the man beside her muttered. Scott was still talking, still being nice. Why? Did he not understand that kindness was empty? Even sincere kindness? How could he prove to her that his initial expressions would result in something substantial? “Hey... Pam, could I call you sometime?”, he continued. Perhaps she was more comfortable on the phone, he reasoned. Her mouth cringed. She was struck with the physic impulse to mouth out the seven numbers that would identify her place of residence. By doing so, she would have given up her newly-recieved protection. He’d have the opportunity to call her up and wear her down with his words, with his focused interest in her -- with his very proximity to her, the lonely, bitter woman......... She could not have that. She could not take that risk, only to be hurt again. “I.... I don’t know, Scott.”, her voice wavering between the subtly coy and simple blandness. “It’s pretty hard to reach me nowadays..... my damn phone’s busted.” She spit out that last statement as if someone had struck her on her upper back with the edge of one’s palm. “Oh.”, he commented. “I never realized that.” “Well, I guess... I guess it’s the phone line.” The saliva in her mouth dried up. “That damn strike at the phone company.... I wouldn’t be surprised if the union sabotaged the lines in my part of town.” Scott’s eyebrows vexed in disbelief. “I didn’t realize that there was any disruption in service. At least not on the island, anyway. I heard that some people in Nova Scotia had......” “Yea, it’s crazy.”, she nervously laughs. “Sometimes my line crackles. Sometimes, I can barely hear the other person on the other end of the line. Or they can’t hear me. It’s bloody annoying.” Scott nods his head, each and every vertical motion creeping his face further and further away from Pamela. “Man..... that really sucks, Pam.”, he spoke slowly, uncertainty scampering around his voice. Pamela’s body shuddered as she lied. Crossing her arms across her chest was her only defense against Scott noticing her physical spasm. But he appeared to have found solace, or at least a distraction, in the sight of some more sprightly post-adolescent women on the other side of the street. Her own gaze bounced around the cracks on the sidewalks. “Yes... it’s not good at all.” The silent pair gave some air to the more verbose members of the gang. Bronwyn and Matthew were still in the midst of their alcoholic flirtation. “...... and I think the music’s going to be a lot better than that techno crap.”, Bronwyn proposed. Matthew crinkled his eyes in hazy humor. “You danced awfully well to it, though.” Scott withdrew his attention from the other end of the street . “What sort of music do you have?” “Don’t tell anyone now.....”, she hissed in a sarcastic tone of conspiracy.”... but I’ve got loads of illegally downloaded MP3’s” Everybody around her laughed. “But none of you can touch me!”, Bronwyn cracked. “The Supreme Court said that the copyright law was not sufficient enough to prosecute all of we poor little downloaders....... so don’t bother telling me that I’m wrong.” “That’s not what you said a few months ago, now.”, Matthew said, forcing Bronwyn to recollect her thoughts. She awkwardly attempted to disguise her petty nervousness with a teasing lilt of the voice. “What ever do you mean?” “Remember back in November. We were listening to your songs back at your place......”, Matthew revealed. Pamela arched her eyebrow. So did Laura. “......and you whispered to me that you were waiting for the day that the police would tap their knuckles on your window.”, Matthew said, with a boastful grin. “You’d be hauled into the pen for all of your contraband Christina Agularia MP3’s!” Bronwyn peered her eyes the opposite direction, towards her friends and associates. Her expression seemed overtly complicated as a response to Matthew’s simple memory of a past event. “Oh.... oh, you don’t need to bring up all that now. I was just feeling a little silly that day... that’s all.” Pamela decided to make her friend feel a little less guilty. “Hey, I don’t blame you at all. I’d be pretty agitated as well..... if I were downloading lots of music......” Bronwyn maintained her fragile smile. “I.... I really have nothing to worry about. I don’t feel guilty about anything.” I bet you don’t, Laura thought, carrying the shame that she thought Bronwyn ought to bear. Sure, Bronwyn felt a weak poison of shame, but it was for the wrong act......... * * * * Bronwyn’s apartment was rather spacious, more so than a salary of a video store clerk would typically allow. She had an open living room, with hardwood floor. There was also a lengthy hallway linking the living room to the front door -- within that hallway, there was a washroom, and two bedrooms, one for her, and one for her roommate Nicky. Nicky was the major breadwinner in the dwelling -- her government job took home twice as much cash as Bronwyn’s clerk job. “What are you doing home, girl?!”, Bronwyn squealed to her more sedate roommate. “I have to work tomorrow, you do realize that?”, Nicky said, feeling more bemused than irritated. “You’re just making me jealous with your lopsided schedule. I’d not be able to stay out all evening like you do. Actually, I ought to be going to bed......” The clock readout was 11:17 pm. “..... but I’ll play with you guys for a while.” “Great!!”, Bronwyn’s voice soared. She moved her body carefully across the living room floor, not wanting to spill the bottle of beer held by her hand. She knew that Nicky was not familiar with these people, but she appreciated the gesture of sociability. Bronwyn was simply happy with the fact that her roommate planned to observe the gathering. She saw Matthew tinkering with her laptop. The other party guests sat within the same proximity as he, and watched him as he checked out the computer menu. She wished that she could brush away all of these extraneous folk, like a broom against unwanted dust. These specks of dust were floating up her nose, making it itch. “Do you know what you’re doing there?”, Laura asked, aware that Matthew did not ask permission to screw around with Bronwyn’s things. “Yea.... actually, I set up some of these programs for her one time that I was here.”, he flatly spoke, focusing his vision on the flat screen, drawing up the music folder. “So.....”, looking up at Bronwyn, “...... what songs do you want to hear?” “Pick something at random, baby!”, she shouted to him. He tapped the keys, and brought out the first few notes of a techno remix of a recent chart-topper. The sounds clanged weakly inside the puny speakers, but that did not deter any part of the gathering, who decided to do their best to compliment the melody, however feebly. The friends danced even as the layout of the living room was not agreeable to the concept of mass dancing. The sofa within the room’s center made it difficult for the parts of the group to feel like one big mass, yet have room enough to move individually. Nevertheless, the visitors tried their best, moving to the beat of the music, and of their own innate knowledge of movement. Laura released herself completely from self-consciousness, playfully bumping her hips against Scott, Tony, and Pamela, the ones most closest to her. Pamela’s body jerked back from the blow, and she laughed as she almost slipped to the floor. Otherwise, Pamela restrained herself with her movements -- she was never much of a dancer. Matthew, on the other hand, kept his body seated on the chair, poking around on the borrowed computer. “Hey, Matt......” Matthew found his eyes move toward the direction of the voice like a magnet to metal. Bronwyn swayed her hips to the music, but they moved easily, seductively, smoothly. She hoped that Matthew’s line of vision would be attracted to those hips, and to all else that she flaunted. “Enjoying yourself?”, she cooed, hovering her body closer to him. “Yes.....”, he stated simply. “It’s been a while since you’ve been up here......”, Bronwyn said. She offered him a taste of what was inside her beer bottle, which he accepted. “Yea.....”, swallowing a mouthful, “..... you know me, I don’t get around to a lot of things.” He laid his hand upon her thigh, rubbing the denim of her jeans. “You gotta be a lot faster, you know.....”, she smiled. “..... I hate it when I don’t see any of my close friends for months at a time.” “It was only a few weeks ago, wasn’t it?”, he said, his expression a slither of surprise. “It felt like it anyway.....” “Well, this is May, now..... and it was around the beginning of March when you were here last........” “Hey!”, came a shout from the mass of dancing limbs nearby. Laura wanted to ask Matthew if there were any other songs besides this, but her heart wanted to ask more questions of him, once she noticed his fingers crawling suspiciously across Bronwyn’s behind. Both Bronwyn and Matthew looked over at Laura’s dumbfounded expression. “Yo!”, Matthew noted, not startled in the least. “Umm...... I... I just wanted to know if you had any other songs besides this.......”, she sighed. “Of course.”, Matthew joked. “She broke the law at least seven hundred times.” Bronwyn gently moved Matthew’s arm away from her waist. “Sure, Laura.... what would you like?” I’d like for you not to embarrass yourself, she wanted to say. “Anything. I just thought... why not change the music, that’s all.” “Pick something at random, dear......” Matthew tapped on the keyboard again. The techno dropped away from the air, replaced by the simple tinkling of a game show theme. Specifically, it was the theme to the Final Jeopardy sequence on that particular show. “Ah, I’ll risk five thousand dollars on that answer.”, Tony said. “What is a bunch of nerds listening to weird music, Alex?”, Pamela jibed, resting against the wall with a glass of beer in her hand. “Okay, so we’re nerds!”, Bronwyn bellowed. “But we have one up on those losers we knew in high school - the ones who snuck out during class for a smoke or a drink at the soccer field. They thought that they were being the cool ones, but where are they now?” She attempted to adjust her body around and face the group, but she twisted her hips at an improper angle, and stumbled onto Matthew’s lap. She let out a dull squeal, and laughed as she dropped her weight on his unprepared legs. She made herself to be the happiest one in the crowd. Arching her neck closer to Matthew’s ear, she whispered, “Meet me in my room in five minutes, okay?” He pressed her face against his. “No problem, babe.” She awkwardly raised her body from the chair, and stood on her feet again. “Sorry for breaking your legs.”, she laughed, her voice insulating the private whispers of seconds previous. Bronwyn traced the edge of the crowd’s diagram, before embarking on her own path, exiting the living room and into the hallway. Nobody asked any questions. They assumed that she would return in only a few moments. * * * * Knock knock knock “Who’s there?”, Bronwyn sing-songed. “The copyright police! Open up!”, a dully authoritarian Matthew teased from behind the hollow wood of the door. “Oh, you’re not going to stop with that gag any time soon, are ya?”,Bronwyn frowned. “Just wait a second while I tease my hair!!” The spring jackets and the heavy sweaters of the guests all lay in a scramble atop her mattress. Bronwyn collected each one within her arms before placing all of them astride the pillows at the head of the bed. “Okay! I’m ready!”, she harmonized, before allowing Matthew to enter into her private space. “Why are you ignoring your friends out there.......”, Matthew smirked, as Bronwyn placed her hands on his shoulders, instinctively massaging them. “This is the only time I get to have you, apparently.”, Bronwyn smiled, letting her palms trail off over Matthew’s chest. “Well, it’s a busy life I lead, babe.”, Matthew responded. “The snow is melting, there’s more time to get outside. Maybe I’ll be able to get onto the golf course soon.” She gave him a kiss on the lips. “You see, you don’t get to tell me anything about your life.”, she spoke melodramatically. “I didn’t know you played golf.” “Mmm, well, it’s something to do, you know......”, he agreed, his fingers embracing the lower curvature of her back. “Nice way to get out of the house, anyway.” “So who... who do you golf with?”, she cooed. The base of her fingers peeled the hem of Matthew’s shirt away from his jeans. “Oh, just with the guys.”, Matthew murmured. “Tony, Scott, the usual......” He grew more solicitous toward Bronwyn’s breasts smoldering from beneath the fringe of her black tank top, than he was of any aspect of the game of golf at this moment. “You... you should ask me to come along sometimes.”, she smiled, her hand airily floating along his stomach. “Or is it just an old boy’s club you’ve got going?” “Sure, sure, absolutely.”, he mindlessly commented, as he bent down to taste Bronwyn’s pale neck. “I mean, I’ve hit a few balls in my time.”, her breath slipping into a breathy sigh, as her finger stumbled with the zipper of his jeans. “But they were all .... at the mini-putt course.” Matthew lifted Bronwyn’s tank top from her waist, exposing the candy-pink of her bra to his widening eyes. He then clutches the flesh of her back, to roughly unhook that undergarment. “You should..... try out the real thing.”, he said blankly, as he fascinated himself with his friend’s amply naked bosom. He cupped her breasts within his palms as if they were gold. “Yea... maybe I should....”, Bronwyn breathed, slipping her hand beneath the fabric of his underwear. He moaned as he felt her gripping his penis. “Maybe... you and I should play a round together.”, snaking his tounge-tip along her nipple. “I’d like that... eighteen holes with you.”, she sighed. The conversation evaporated, soaked up by the more brutal sensation of physical intimacy. They touched each other without regard for where they were or for the muffled noises a few rooms away. She felt the spasm of his penis as he climaxed. Her hand wrapped itself around him, feeling his stickiness spill down her fingers. Regaining her composure, “It may be almost as fun as this round was.....” Matthew helpfully reached for some tissues in the box sitting on Bronwyn’s table. “.... so....”, asked he, drawing heavy breaths, “.... is that it?” Bronwyn gave him a crooked smile. “Is that what you want?” “Just rest your head on the bed for a while.”, he grinned wickedly. “I’m feeling a little hungry.” She laughed heartily. She dropped her tissues into the wastebasket, and did as he commanded......... * * * * Laura entered the hallway, with the simple and innocent desire to go to the washroom. But she stumbled into something a little more complicated. Sounds, like that of one lonely marcher, broke through the rigid cushion of the bedroom door. Stomp stomp stomp stomp. Then came the giggling, shattering the illusion of loneliness. Bronwyn. Laura knew that for certain. She was going to knock on the door and ask her friend what was so funny, but she received all her answers before she even formulated a question within her mouth. The staccato notes of Bronwyn’s laughter were soon accompanied by an eager groaning. The voyeuristic marcher continued with its rigid stomp, but even that lone sound turned out to be married to a clangy tune of springs. Laura’s face grew hot. She felt as if she stepped into something forbiddingly private -- even though she could only hear and not see what she wasn’t supposed to stumble upon. All the sighing and moaning sounded utterly alien, something removed from her own experience. Even though she’s known of giggles while springs clanged and marchers stepped in tune to her bodily duet with her lover........ Part Five: http://www.epinions.com/content_4074414212  |
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