The Death Box(60)
She turns and sees him watching. Her eyes widen. The sun explodes and the room turns to pure white.
Minard rolls and moans and his fingers dig into the pillow.
The room shivers back into view, at first just an outline of Xaviera, then filling with color. She is cross-legged on the bed now, the feather on the floor. Chalk’s hand covers his genitals over his khaki shorts.
“Come here, little one,” says the rose mouth of Xaviera. “I want you to show me what’s under your hand.”
“I … I … I …” Minard Chalk’s breath has frozen in his throat.
“Don’t be frightened, little dove. Maybe we can have a trade.”
“T-t-trade?”
“If you show me what’s in your hand, I might show you what’s in mine. Would you like that?”
Xaviera’s hands are cupping her breasts. Her teeth shine like stars. The girl’s hands fall from her breasts, their points visible under the thin fabric. Minard wants to stare at the tiny perfect moons but knows that is rude.
“You do this a lot, do you not?” Xaviera says, her voice as quiet as a prayer. “Watch me?”
His eyes drop to the floor. His tongue is a rock in his mouth.
“I’ve seen you, Minard. I know all of your watching places. You’ve watched me since the day I arrived, no?”
“It just l-l-looks like I’m …”
“Shhh, Minard. I’m not angry. I like to be watched.”
“R-really?”
A pink finger slips to one of the moons and brushes over it. “It makes me feel special. Why do you like to watch me?”
“Because I-I love you.”
“You’re so smart, Minard. Don’t shake your head, everyone knows it. Tell me in smart words how much you love me.”
The boy tries to search his mind but he’s frozen by the girl’s beauty. Twenty years away Minard Chalk moans into his pillow.
“I-I can’t.”
“You don’t really love me then,” she says, her face dropping. Even sad she is so beautiful that Chalk wants to cry.
“I do, Xaviera. I really do. I-I want to marry you.”
“What? I didn’t hear you. Tell me louder.”
He swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “I love you and I want to marry you,” he says, his voice filling the room.
A wide smile. “Oh? What will we do, Minard? If we are married?”
“Go to another country. China, maybe. Or Australia.”
“Why so far?”
“To be happy.”
“I think you should kiss me, Minard. Will that make you happy?”
The boy’s mouth drops open. He has practiced kissing in the mirror a hundred times. The world turns to stillness as he leans forward with his lips on fire. But her hand touches his chest and holds him back.
“Not on my mouth, my dove. Kiss me down here. On my panties.”
She scoots forward on the bed and opens her long legs. Her panties are revealed, cotton, as white as snow. The amazed Chalk begins to bend.
“No, Minard. Don’t lean down. Get on your knees and kiss me with your tongue.”
His knees are on the floor and her thighs graze his ears. His tongue reaches out and licks at her panties. Xaviera shifts her hips, angling them higher. “Yes. Eat it, Minard. Eat it like candy.” She laughs happily.
“What?”
“Keep going like that. But … uh, make some noise.”
“Mmuuum …” Minard moans as he kisses and licks at the panties. “Mummph.” If he died now there would be no regrets; his life ended in perfection.
Xaviera giggles strangely, like hearing a joke. “Are you hard?” she asks.
“What?”
“Your dick, Minard. Is it big and hard?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“Stand up and open your pants. I want to see it.”
He stands and with trembling hands lowers his shorts and briefs. His erect penis is small and uncircumcised and curves downward, the hood extending past the tip like a rumpled wizard’s hat. Her hand reaches down and her middle finger gently strokes the top of his penis from his body to the tip of the hat.
“When will it get big?” she frowns.
“It … it is.”
“There’s all this skin, Minard. Why don’t you fill up your skin?”
“I … what?”
Minard Chalk feels a pain like his thing has caught fire. He screams and his eyes snap open to see Xaviera’s fingers closed tight on his flap, pinching hard. He tries to jump away but excruciating pain holds him in place. His hands go to her wrist but she squeezes harder still. It’s like teeth have closed on his thing.
Wild laughter fills the air. The slatted door of the long closet rolls open and a half-dozen of Xaviera’s friends pour out, pointing at the spectacle and howling. They have been watching everything.