Anatomy of Evil by Brian Pinkerton Page A

that?”
    â€œThe pants are half off.”
    She laughed and replied, “Yes, as a matter of fact, they are.” Her tone played up the double entendre.
    â€œHow do they feel?” he asked.
    â€œYou tell me,” she responded.
    The next five minutes became a furious blur of hungry animal magnetism. Behind the curtain of the fitting room, he unleashed himself on her. Standing with the yoga pants pooled at her feet, she gripped two clothes hooks, elbows facing out, to secure her position. He watched himself in the mirror, still muscular and powerful, pounding in a steady rhythm, advancing in a relentless, linear charge to the goal line. On the 30…the 20…the 15…the 10…
    Touchdown .
    As they slipped apart and gasped to catch their breath, he felt the world around him returning. She quickly scrambled to get dressed. He looked at himself again in the mirror, sweating and shining.
    Outside, the staccato beat of the basketball continued: thump…thump…thump .
    Hot Mom left the store satisfied. The customer always comes first . She paid for her daughter’s soccer cleats and the tie-dye yoga pants. The fuck was on the house.
    Gary couldn’t believe how quickly the entire episode had unfolded. He felt even more amazed by his total lack of remorse.
    It was his first act of adultery. He had never before even seriously considered it.
    Occasionally over the past few years, little episodes took place in his imagination, but they always stayed there, like his fantasy of winning the lottery or returning to the NFL for an award-winning comeback.
    He thought about Emma, the love of his life, his eternal commitment, the mother of his child.
    He became dizzy.
    He wanted to put his head down on the sales counter.
    He blamed Hot Mom. Clearly she had put him under a spell. It was a freak accident. A collision course with a woman who pulled all the right strings and exploited his extreme state of horny.
    He pushed the moment into the past. He cleared his head for the present. If the rest of his staff had been here, this never would have happened. The empty store provoked it, he told himself.
    Then Tonya arrived and he felt everything he had felt for Hot Mom…
    â€¦times ten.
    She greeted him with a quick hug and he felt the push of her breasts against his chest, the momentary swish of her long hair against his cheek.
    â€œHow was your vacation?” she asked.
    â€œGood,” he said, and he could think of no other words.
    â€œNice tan!” she told him.
    She wore funky cargo pants with lots of pockets, cut above the ankle with no socks, revealing a flash of skin above her tennis shoes. Her turquois-blue halter top showed off her long, graceful arms.
    He always found her very, very pretty, but today the package stirred him more than ever before.
    They fell into a quick, comfortable rapport, discussing her week of “flying solo” at the store, a mostly smooth affair with only a few minor hiccups. He told her about his fishing conquests, the island’s natural beauty, and the joy of being isolated from civilization.
    â€œThat sounds like so much fun,” she said. “I need a vacation like that.”
    â€œTake one. Give yourself a break,” he said. “I hope last week wasn’t all work and no play. Did you get out and do anything fun?”
    She talked about seeing a movie with friends and going out to dinner with her mother.
    â€œNo dates?”
    She laughed and shrugged. “Ah, not lately. Not much happening in the boy department right now.”
    â€œWell, don’t rush it,” he told her. “You can afford to be choosy. Don’t just settle for some bozo. You deserve a Superman. Someone who is smart, strong, successful, funny, charming and treats you like a total princess.”
    â€œOh stop it,” she said, rolling her eyes.
    Gary’s vision filled with an image of fast, hard sex in the dressing room. He revisited the body