@@descript="Here it Comes by Jack Flack"
"Here it Comes" - by Jack Flack

  Rip leaned back in his chair, lit another cigarette, and stared back out
the window of his 8th floor hotel room.  The light rain made the streets
glisten in the streetlight.  In the distance Rip could make out a few
colored neon lights of businesses surely closed at this hour.
  "Fuck," Rip said outloud, and tossed his lighter onto the makeshift dinner
table next to the cheap recliner.  Normally, a few hours away from his wife
after a fight was enough to calm his nerves, but the pain was still eating
away at his stomach.  Rip stretched his fingers out to grab his Jack
Daniels bottle, but clumbsily knocked it over.  The last reminants of the
brownish poison spilled out onto the windowsill.  "Fuck," he said again, and
pushed the bottle out of the window.  In slow motion, the bottle twisted and
flipped its way to the ground, smashing with an explosion of shards.
  Finally, the knock at the door arrived.  Rip threw his hair over his head,
out of his face, and made his way to the door.
  "Room service," the blonde said as Rip swung the door open.  The light blue
outfit highlighted her bright blue eyes.  Rip just stood there, leaning up
against the wall, taking a drag off the cigarette and blowing the smoke up
into the air.
  "You gonna let me in or not?" she asked.  Rip turned around and walked into
the room and sat back down near the window.  The maid walked in and shut the
door behind her.
  "You got a name?" the maid said, with that fake smile that one only sees on
waitresses and beauty pagent contestants.
  "Rip," he said, not looking away from the window.  "And you?"
  "Darlene," she said, but with her strong Georgia accent, it sounded more
like "dah-lean".  "People call me Dar for short," she said while batting her
eyelashes and leaning over to place his food on the table.
  "Have a seat," Rip said.
  "What?  I've gotta ..." Dar began.
  "I said have a seat," he said firmly but not loudly.
  Dar sat down on the corner of the bed, looking more confused than afraid.
She kept staring at Rip, waiting for him to speak, but he never did.
  Rip took the cigarette from his mouth, flicked it out of the window sill,
and began to speak.
  "We were in love, once.  Do you know what it feels like to be in love?" he
asked her.  Dar nodding, both acknowledging that she agreed and that she had
no idea where he was going with this.  Rip lit another cigarette, and
continued talking.
  "There are just some things you don't do to a man, you know?  You don't
fuck his best friend.  You don't keep him away from his kids.  You don't
take away his life!"  He shouted the word life, and slammed his hand on the
table next to him.  "You ever been screwed over before?" he asked Dar, and
turned to look at her.  This was the first time he made eye contact with
her since he had began talking.
  Dar broke into a story Rip had heard a hundred times before.  Stories of
men loving and leaving her, stories of one night stands and horrible deeds.
Before she knew it, her voice had cracked and tears had welled in her eyes.
  "It's okay," Rip said as he stood up and walked behind her.  Her head fell
into her hands, and he soothed her by rubbing his hands on the back of her
neck.  The rubbing quickly turned into a massage on her shoulders, and she
quit sobbing, for the moment.
  "Right there," she said while sniffling, and moved his hands into the
middle of her back, directly on her bra strap.  His big hands made circular
motions around her back, and smoothly unlocked the bra clasp he had been
rubbing over.  He walked back in front of her, facing her as she still sat
on the corner of the bed, and held her to his chest.  She gently kissed his
chest, and he wrapped his hands around her back, unzipping her maid outfit.
  She laid down on her back while he leaned down over her, kissing her neck
and moving down to her breasts.  The outfit was peeling down as his hands
worked southward.  Soon, he rolled over to her side, and the entire outfit
slid off her legs, onto the floor.
  His hands worked like a master of love, sliding up and down her thighes
(both inside and out) and resting on her buttocks.  His tongue flicked up and
down her breasts, causing her nipples to stand straight up towards the sky.
  "Oh Rip," she whispered, as his hands wandered near her love pot.  She was
warm and wet and ready to take him.  He took a moment to lower his pants and
without warning thrust into her  She let out a little scream, and he began
pounding away, faster and faster, taking out his agression.
  "Turn over," Rip said, and she did, flipping over onto her hands and knees,
facing away from him.  He mounted her, and again began pounding wildly.
  Suddenly, while still rocking madly, Rip reached over, grabbed the lamp
next to the bed on the night table, and smashed the back of her skull in.
  Crash!  The purple glass shards flew in all directions, and the blood from
her head took no time to begin flooding the sheets.  Her face dropped to the
base of the headboard, and her hands flew to hold the back of her head
together.
  Rip held onto her ass.  "Almost there," he groaned, and in a second, he
came in her.  He rolled over and took a big breath.  He scooped Dar up and
tossed her onto his shoulder.  He walked over to the closet and opened the
door.  Laying in the corner was another maid, light skinned and dark hair.
Blood kept her head stuck to the wall, and she stared blankly into the
darkness in front of her.  He dumped Dar into the floor like a sack of
potatoes and slammed the door shut.
  Rip walked back to his chair at the window sill, and sat down.  He was
still breathing heavy from the wild sex.  Rip leaned back into his chair,
brushing his har away from his face, and lit another cigarette.
  Staring out the window, Rip could hear blues music travelling up to his
window.  He grinned, flicked his cigarette out the window, and picked up the
phone next to him.
  "Room service?" he asked.

Jack Flack  SaZ


