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Stephen del Mar
© 2014 All Rights Reserved
Sanders grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his wife’s mouth from his nipple ring. He looked at the time display then back at her. “It’s four in the morning. What the hell are you doing? I was asleep.”
The wall monitor didn’t offer a lot of light in the dark room but he could see her smile and lick her lips. “I have an early expedition launch and I want to play before I’m on deck. I have a marine station to run. I don’t get to play secret order spy down in the basement like you do.”
He gave her a mock frown. “I don’t play at anything.” He pulled her back and kissed her open mouth. She slid her body over his and straddled him. He welcomed the warm naked flesh against his in the cold room.
Stephen del Mar
I hate winter. It’s dark when I go to work. It’s dark when I come home. Slush, snow, ice and the never-ending procession of potholes that threaten to rip a wheel off my car. I get home and I can’t even park the car in the garage. The fucking asshole I live with, aka my husband and the man I love, has filled the garage with so much shit all you can do is walk through it to get into the house. Note to self: next time I fall madly in love ask if he has hoarding tendencies.
By Stephen del Mar
I sat in my car and watched the green house. It wasn’t green anymore, but I saw it that way. It had been that weird shade of green that was so popular back in the 1970s. A shade some marketing guy somewhere named avocado. A color no avocado had ever been. I think the house was beige now, but I could only see green.
I looked at the window on the west wall. That was Andre’s room. About three in the morning and nearly forty years ago, I stood outside that window and whispered through the screen. “Andre do you want to come out?” It was an invitation to explore the moonlit woods, get naked, and do the things Florida boys do in the woods.
“Andre?” I said again.
I heard a grunt. His bed was on the other side of the window, but it was too high for me to look in. “Do you want to come out?”
“Andre isn’t here.”
I leaned against the wall and smiled. “Come on man. The moon’s full. We won’t need any flashlights. It’s cool and there aren’t many bugs. It’ll be fun.”
by Stephen del Mar
Rain pounded Tony’s car. A tropical depression moved in from the Gulf of Mexico and tore at Bennett Bay. Tony pulled his car into the parking lot of a Seven-Eleven. He counted to ten, then resumed his phone conversation.
“Look Wilkins we’re not taking the offer. Down market? Are you nuts? This isn’t some track house down in Swan Landing. This is The Gull, the estate of George Bennett. You know the place that Architecture Magazine voted the best Spanish Revival villa in the south. The whole damn South. We’re talking ten acres on the bay. Do you know what that land is worth? Don’t call me again unless you have a serious offer or a new client.”