I couldn’t even imagine how the events of the last days would drive me into a corner: at first – shining, iridescent meetings filled by the animalistic libido; later – a tearing desire to get back to the past.
I opened my eyes as I felt the cold that emanated from a dark silhouette covering me from the bright rays of the scorching sun. That “cold” turned out to be a delicious young lady in a red bikini. I sat up, trying to hide my hardened excitement by pulling a second towel over my wet swimming trunks.
“Hello, stranger! Remember me?”
“How could I forget? Sobekneferu of my heart,” I whispered.
“Science Magazine!” I nervously scrolled a few pages, hoping to impress.
“I know a very cozy reading area, not so far, in a cave.”
“Gonna be dark there,” I said, crushing the magazine with my wet fingers, still not believing my luck.
The woman raised her hands to the sun, dancing in one place, then slowly jumped and, with a few imperceptible movements, untied the upper part of her red bikini. My eyes rolled out of their sockets – the lust for “what could have happened but did not happen on the bridge last Saturday” pushed all reasonable thoughts to the far corner of my head. I growled.
“With this…” she made a twisting motion with her hips, forcing all glorious body parts to play in the wind, with her breasts bouncing up and down like a boat in a storm, “It won’t be dark, silly.”
Without question, I followed the lady of my heart, forgetting in the sand all my clothes, a tote bag, the science magazine, and, of course, my brains.
On the way to a cave, her watch rang. After a short conversation, she grabbed my hand tighter, dragging me in the opposite direction.
We arrived near the gates of the biggest house on the beach. The master of the house was the famous Flamingo Vegas, the owner of “The Bunny Palace” Hotel and the casino “Sin City.”
“Papi, I am here!” Sobekneferu-girl shouted to the odd man with short grey hair.
“Go dress up; we have very important guests this afternoon.” He answered.
After she left, I decided to apologize: “Your daughter didn’t tell me…”
“What? Magdalena is my future wife. And who are you? How do you know her?” Mr. Vegas interrupted me, studying my pale body.
“I don’t know her,” I replied the moment she walked in.
“It’s my brother, Hammer.” She announced simultaneously.
“Your brother? He just said he doesn’t know you. Am I right?” Mr. Vegas stared at me. My shoulders began to shake, and my head bent lower and lower.
“Of course, you are right.” I tried to calm him down. “What I meant is I know her, she is my lost sister from my mother’s side, but I’d rather I didn’t know her, or I should say that I was on the way of unknowing her when I met her at the beach.”
“How can you unknown something you already know? Is it contagious?” the old man looked puzzled.
“Aww, don’t you see, Papi? My brother is a Vodou man, a real philosopher.”
“He doesn’t look like a philosopher. What a joke! Mmmm, but you look so ambrosial, my innocent doll.” Mr. Vegas put his chubby hand around the young beauty and held her tight. She had changed her bikini to the more eccentric outfit: a transparent top with tight leather shorts.
I felt like a fish washed ashore when I remarked two colorful large birds. They were sitting quietly on the sofa.
“My pride and joy! Meet my two best guards: Zen and Dea.” The owner of the house noticed the shift in my interest.
“Yeah. Zen is always silent like he knows something I don’t.” Mr. Vegas made a cautious pause. “Dea is short for the Death because she doesn’t think much, truly bloody animal.”
“What kind of birds they are?” I changed the subject.
“Dodo birds. From Mauritius.”
“They don’t look like the dodo.”
“Have you been in Mauritius, young man?” inquired the furious man with grey hair. “I have two houses there, and each creepy mthfuka knows who Mister Flamingo Vegas is.”
“I have no doubt, but I think these birds are rhinoceros hornbill; they are easily recognized by the horn on top of their beaks.”
“You know what, I like free thinkers. I can allow it in my house because you are family, but that’s where your free-thinking stops – with my dodo birds and Mauritius. Okay, okay, come here; I’ll show you my collection of racing worms.”
After the tour, I was left in the living room, surrounded by exotic hungry birds, poisonous insects, odd moths, spiders, and giant snails, each of them observing how I tried to clean up my swimming trunks from the sand.
“What the hell? Are you stalking me? Why are you naked in my living room, Mister Harmless?” hissed a familiar female voice behind me. I silently cursed my director, the beach, and the attempt to get with someone who is not Margaret’s photo, my ex-wife, or my pillow. I turned, opened my mouth to explain, facing the infinity sign of the fifth Mrs. Vegas. Her body like a stretched violin string, too close to mine.
“Grab me. Now!” she ordered.
For a moment, we were in another land, far beyond our imagination, but the heavy steps of Mr. Vegas violated the purity of that moment. Ashamed, she ran upstairs, revealing to the world a solid, craving for action, my average Mister Eighth Wonder.
As it turned out, Mrs. Delight (soon-to-be-ex-Vegas) was a gentle soul full of frantic tricks in the field of tantric love. The sound of the waves was our music, the French art décor of the room was our tool for wild acrobatic games.
After 4am, when all the guests had left, when the groans of the magical Sobekneferu had vanished in the salty air, I left the bedroom of the sleeping Mrs. Vegas: I crept to the stairs and quickly walked into the hallway. Something crunched under my foot, but I was extremely drained to pay attention.
The first day of vacation – and the world is already mine!
I was proud of myself.
“Hey, sweet brother! Do you still want to read for me?” rustled the melodic voice of Magdalena. I was too exhausted to continue the carousel of sexual feasts, so I inhaled as much air as I could and ran out of the house.
More next week – Day 4: THE CRIME.