The Last Maharajan (Romantic Thriller/Women's Fiction) by Susan Wingate Page A
Authors: Susan Wingate
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her life. In this one, she was getting married to a younger man and had to break it off with her previous husband. These two people painted their walls creating a new environment meant to be creative and all about art. Janie, Euly’s hairstylist, sat her in the chair, tipped her back in a freakish massage position meant to relax her before the cut. She sputtered whispers into Euly’s ear as she leaned her backwards almost into a lying position. That’s when Euly awoke feeling disoriented and in a bad mood.
It felt wrong. Meeting Clive had felt wrong.
Not because he’d made a pass at her although that was enough to make Euly not want to return but, something else. She couldn’t put it together. She’d been preoccupied by his style and didn’t always hear what he was saying, only how he was saying it. Damn. She was trying to remember his words. She cursed herself for having forgotten the recorder.
She knew she needed to talk to him once more and she dreaded it. He would take it as a come-on to his advances. They had history. Nothing serious but their history was enough to make him think her visit might be something more.
It was in college. He wanted to meet for cocktails.
“Just to talk.” He laughed at the suggestion. To Euly, it meant more. He wanted to sleep with her. It was a time when sex was what you did on a date there was no feeling around under a blouse in fumbling for the clasp of a bra, bras were optional. By then, she had a place of her own. His place was with Sandy but only months before they divorced and a year before she killed herself.
“We can meet at Houston’s and after that, I don’t know. We could go to your place.” After say 'yes,' Euly stood him up.
It was too weird even for her, even at that time in her life when she was a wild one. The late
70s were making a turn into the 80s. By then, she’d found herself fully imbued in the culture- free love and drugs.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
An absent moon made the night even darker. Wild Thing played on the radio. It was long ago, around the age of seventeen.
Euly put a hand over her eyes just thinking about it. She’d had sex with two boys at once. They tangled together, one boy below her hips and she at the other boy’s groin. Every point of the business muddled into a mix of arms and legs, breasts and genitalia. No one spoke. They simply continued the process to its natural end.
It was during this interlude a thought struck her: life might not continue simply as it once had.
Her mind wandered. What made her do it – the act itself?
At this stage of her life, she couldn’t remember the events leading up to it. It was so long ago. Still, through it all many things came to mind.
One foremost thought, was of the complicated human-animal urge.
That urge we succumb to in the latest hour, the darkest of places, through exhaustion or illumination – that urge.
The urge when you ask yourself, “why not?”
The urge that makes men leave their families for a sampling of something new. The visceral pang we cannot control, don’t want to control.
That urge.
Another thing crossed Euly's mind, the notion of polygamy and how readily Christians reject the precept and remembering a Mormon girlfriend back then. She wondered, as the three fluxed in constant motion, in the throes of passion, if polygamy mightn’t be a better choice.
However, after bodily fluids dried up and the glow had died away, Euly's feelings changed in distinct steps – feelings from the act itself, that glorious interlude to an eventual thank you and two goodbye kisses, to embarrassment and, then, to downright shame.
It made her think of a joke. The one about a doe that bounds out of the woods and breathlessly vows, “I’ll never do that for two bucks again!”
She began to ponder the bible and Adam and Eve. The writings say that in the Garden of Eden after the consumption of the apple from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, Adam tells God, “I heard thy
It felt wrong. Meeting Clive had felt wrong.
Not because he’d made a pass at her although that was enough to make Euly not want to return but, something else. She couldn’t put it together. She’d been preoccupied by his style and didn’t always hear what he was saying, only how he was saying it. Damn. She was trying to remember his words. She cursed herself for having forgotten the recorder.
She knew she needed to talk to him once more and she dreaded it. He would take it as a come-on to his advances. They had history. Nothing serious but their history was enough to make him think her visit might be something more.
It was in college. He wanted to meet for cocktails.
“Just to talk.” He laughed at the suggestion. To Euly, it meant more. He wanted to sleep with her. It was a time when sex was what you did on a date there was no feeling around under a blouse in fumbling for the clasp of a bra, bras were optional. By then, she had a place of her own. His place was with Sandy but only months before they divorced and a year before she killed herself.
“We can meet at Houston’s and after that, I don’t know. We could go to your place.” After say 'yes,' Euly stood him up.
It was too weird even for her, even at that time in her life when she was a wild one. The late
70s were making a turn into the 80s. By then, she’d found herself fully imbued in the culture- free love and drugs.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
An absent moon made the night even darker. Wild Thing played on the radio. It was long ago, around the age of seventeen.
Euly put a hand over her eyes just thinking about it. She’d had sex with two boys at once. They tangled together, one boy below her hips and she at the other boy’s groin. Every point of the business muddled into a mix of arms and legs, breasts and genitalia. No one spoke. They simply continued the process to its natural end.
It was during this interlude a thought struck her: life might not continue simply as it once had.
Her mind wandered. What made her do it – the act itself?
At this stage of her life, she couldn’t remember the events leading up to it. It was so long ago. Still, through it all many things came to mind.
One foremost thought, was of the complicated human-animal urge.
That urge we succumb to in the latest hour, the darkest of places, through exhaustion or illumination – that urge.
The urge when you ask yourself, “why not?”
The urge that makes men leave their families for a sampling of something new. The visceral pang we cannot control, don’t want to control.
That urge.
Another thing crossed Euly's mind, the notion of polygamy and how readily Christians reject the precept and remembering a Mormon girlfriend back then. She wondered, as the three fluxed in constant motion, in the throes of passion, if polygamy mightn’t be a better choice.
However, after bodily fluids dried up and the glow had died away, Euly's feelings changed in distinct steps – feelings from the act itself, that glorious interlude to an eventual thank you and two goodbye kisses, to embarrassment and, then, to downright shame.
It made her think of a joke. The one about a doe that bounds out of the woods and breathlessly vows, “I’ll never do that for two bucks again!”
She began to ponder the bible and Adam and Eve. The writings say that in the Garden of Eden after the consumption of the apple from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, Adam tells God, “I heard thy
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