Hour 9: The Brides

They said they were brides, but he could love them if he wanted to – their husband wouldn’t mind.

And, what did he care? They were three gorgeous women. Three gorgeous women sitting at the bus stop. Three gorgeous women sitting at the bus stop paying attention to him after an awful night.

So why not try and hook up with three gorgeous married women sitting at the bus stop paying attention to him?
No one would believe him, anyways…so why not go for it?

Okay, he says. Knowing full well it would be way too easy to fall in love with any one of the three.

The women giggle and spring up from the bench and hug him.

He feels the warmth of their bodies.

They play with his hair, and stroke his cheeks.

Come home with us, they plead. Come home with us and let’s play, they laugh and touch him.

Who knew that Halloween was such a lucky holiday?
Here he is, a twenty-something man. A man in his prime. Dejected and rejected from some shitty party with shitty people…and here he is, in the arms of three beautiful women…going home with them.

But what about your husband? He asks, finding it strange that they were married to the same guy, but hey, who was he to judge? He figures they are just swingers or in open relationships or something. People get up to all kinds of kinky stuff behind closed doors.

He tries to kiss one of them on the bus.

She laughs, and playfully pushes him away.

He wants to try again, maybe kiss another one, but isn’t sure if he should. Had he already shown preference? If he tries to kiss one of the other women, would the first woman feel rejected and he’d blow his chance at anything happening tonight?

They pull him off the bus. Singing and laughing. One of the girls is skipping ahead of them. You’re going to love our house, she sings out. You’re going to love us.

They lead him into their house. It’s simple, but bathed in a warm pink-orange light. They push him down onto an over-stuffed sofa and tell him to stay there and then they run into another room laughing and playfully shoving each other.

He takes his shoes off. In case something was about to happen, he didn’t want to have to try and get them off and look foolish.
Should he take his clothes off? He wonders.
No. No, that would be too forward.

The three women come back into the room.

His heart beats. He begins to sweat.
He tugs at the front of his pants, trying to hide an erection.

The three women come back into the room fully naked, curling their index fingers, asking him to follow them.

Who knew Halloween was a lucky holiday?

They take him down a hallway, undressed him as they go.

Playfully, but forcefully leading him into a dark room and onto a big, comfortable bed.

Do you like us, they ask? Are we beautiful? Could you love us?

He answers yes. Yes to every question they ask, aching to touch them. Any of them.

They light candles and more pink-orange light bathes the room and their naked bodies.

He can’t fight his arousal anymore.
He reaches out and grabs one of the women.

The other two push him down.

Uh-uh. Not until you marry us! Do you want to marry us?

Yes, he says. He would say yes to anything at this point.

They clap and hug each other.

Then we are all married! It will be such a happy life. You’ll love us forever and we will love you forever!

And…finally…a kiss.

A kiss.

It hurts him, but in a good way. Did she bite his lip?

He tastes a little blood, which surprises him as it increases his arousal.

Their hands move over his body. Up his legs and over his hips. Over the belly he wishes didn’t hold so much beer. Over his chest and shoulders.

And then around his throat.

He can’t breathe.

He thinks they are playing, but he really can’t breathe.

The pink-orange light becomes hazy and his head starts to hurt.

He can’t breathe.

All three women place their hands on this throat, leaning forward with all of their weight.

He’s trying to fight them off but they are so strong, too strong.

He can’t fight.
He can’t breathe.

Spots of light dance before his eyes.
His tongue feels huge.

Everything goes black.

He opens his eyes.

He’s not sure what time it is.

He sees pink-orange light and a big, comfortable, unmade bed.

A man cowers in the corner. Blue lips, bulging eyes, deep and dark bruises around his neck.

His own neck hurts.

He hears the women open the door.
The same purring noises they made when they were dragging him into the room.

They have another man.

He yells at them. What is this? You’re going to have sex with that guy with me in the room? With that other guy in the room? What’s wrong with you three?

They don’t hear him.

He watches as they undress and tease the new guy.

He watches as the new guy agrees to love them and marry them and be with them forever.
He watches as they kiss and choke and murder the new guy.

He watches as the spirit leaves the new guy.

He feels the bruises around his neck, they burn slightly.
He looks in the mirror – a dark purple ring around his throat, blue lips, bulging bloodshot eyes.

Behind him, the new guy appears, crying, gently touching the fresh bruise around his own neck.

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