(Sneak peek of my forthcoming novel)
In the North air traffic tower above Old San Francisco, Willie, a short light-brown man with a thick afro, sat in his swivel chair with jazz flowing through his ear plugs and an open book on his lap. Music was one of the few things that hadn’t died with earth’s decline. A few libraries, crumbling dilapidated buildings that they were, had survived. They were free too, for anyone who had a mind to visit them. The diskettes had survived as well, and Willie was a music lover. He had hundreds of them that he kept in his satchel.
The tower was now used exclusively for monitoring extra-terrestrial contact. In the twenty years since the tower had been converted, there hadn’t been any. Only one employee maintained the upper tower staff.
The monitors were blank and, as always, Willie was alone on his night-duty shift. Hence, the ear plugs. It was a dream job. I ain’t got to do nothing but show up…bring some music, a book and ride the clock.
He glanced over at the screens. Flat lines. So what else is new? and dropped his head back to the crime novel in his lap.
He didn’t hear the young woman come in. She was shapely and dark, with a long braid of hair hanging down her back. And she was dressed in the totally unpractical Early Earth grab, if you weren’t rich, of jeans and t-shirt. She walked over to Willie. He felt her presence, and jumped in surprise at the sight of her.
The young man snatched his ear plugs out. “You ain’t supposed to be in here! How’d you get in?”
“I know the guard.”
Damn she fine! Her pert breasts with their dark nipples were poking through her shirt like bee stings. And she had a tiny waist tapering down to wide, luscious hips. She ain’t wearing a bra, either.
“Well…” he stammered, “what you want?”
The young woman smiled fetchingly, displaying the dimple in the corner of her rosebud mouth, batted her lashes over her big brown eyes, and moved in close so that (censored) was right in front of his face. Willie restrained himself from licking his lips.
“You baby…” she simpered.
The young man’s lips spread in a wide goofy smile. Then he checked himself. This fine **** could be a plant! “You’re not supposed to be in here Miss!” he said again gruffly. “You need to leave. Now.”
In answer, she pulled her shirt over her head. Both her nipples and her navel were pierced.
“Damn!” Willie exploded. She started to unbutton her pants. “Wait!” he said. “Not here!” he jumped up, ran past her to the door opened it and looked up and down the hallway. “Come on!” he hissed waving her over.
They scooted out of the room and into the first broom closet on his left. “I’m Willie…what’s your name?”
“Melody,” she whispered. “I live in your dome…I been watching you…You look so good…” All the while, she was slipping out of her jeans. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
And Willie had stopped listening...
Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers 2012 all rights reserved.