CAT HOUSE
We tumbled in through the door of her clapboard house, tongues entwined, clasping and grasping with intense hunger and a burning desire. I reached back halfheartedly in an attempt to grab the keys that still dangled from the door knob but abandoned them there as she pulled me deeper into the murky entrance hall.
She pulled me onward, fingers locked tight in my hair, pulling my face down to hers as though she was afraid to let go. As we tripped our way up the stairs, my hand slid up the back of her shirt, drunken sausage fingers tripping and stumbling over her bra strap before finally settling on her slender shoulder blades and puling her in close.
I could feel her hot breath on my neck; short, quick gasps that smelled of vodka and lime.
We bumped our way along the narrow upper corridor, bumping into a small table before finally dislodging a framed print from its mooring on the wall. It fell to the wooden floor with a crash, and tinkling of broken glass. She paused for a moment then, peering wide eyed up into my face, then spun me around and pushed me backwards through the doorway to her room.
We tumbled into the bed, clawing and grasping at each other in mounting desperation.
As my eyes slowly acclimated to the gloom I could see here staring back at me. I could see the rapid pulse of her heart in her neck. I could see her smooth, white flesh, the long white lines of her legs as she slowly pulled off her pants.
I rolled onto my back, fumbling with my belt, and let out a sudden gasp of surprise. A pair of beady eyes stared down at me. Looking around the room, I realized the walls were lined with eyes, all of them eerily unblinking in a miasma of small cat faces.
“What the…” I managed to slur, the first words I had spoken since we spilled out of the cab out front.
“They’re my cats,” she replied, pulling her top up over her head and tossing it to the floor.
I can see that they’re cats, but why do you have cat heads on your wall?”
“Because I love them,” she replied innocently. “Just like I love you.”
A feeling of unease washed over me. Suddenly this exotic drunk girl seemed a little more frightening than fun.
“You can’t love me,” I replied. “We barely even know each other.”
“I know that you are cute, just like my little kitties,” she replied. “Isn’t that enough?”
“What, are you going to mount my head on your bedroom wall too?”
“Of course not,” she replied with a flutter of her dark eyes. She might be weird, but she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
I laughed, a stiff chuckle that lacked any sense of mirth. “That’s a relief.”
“This room is for my cats only.”
There was a flash of silver, and a flood of heat around my neck. I barely saw it coming.
“My men stay in the basement,” she purred, and slowly lowered her mouth to my neck.
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