Need

Summer, 1978, Saturday afternoon

Carolyn climbed the stairs to her co-op building with a sigh. Neighborhood boys lined the entrance lethargically, sprawled next to forgotten Popsicle sticks.

"Hey, Janet!"

"Hot mama!"

They teased her playfully about her resemblance to the character on Three's Company, but it was too damn hot to really fire up the wisecracks. The boys watched appreciatively as her long tanned legs went by, framed by denim short shorts and platform sandals. "What's up, guys?' She shifted her groceries to one curved hip, waving to Mrs. Cooper across the street.

"Hey, girl!" she called, waving back. "You be careful! That crazy killer done it again! You come on, sleep over here if you want."

"I heard. I'll be okay, Mrs. Cooper," Carolyn assured her, slipping inside to avoid the inevitable invitations from the boys to come stay with them tonight. She took the flight of stairs to her walk-up, mentally reviewing the news stories on the man who'd been terrorizing the neighborhood. Four times he had broken into houses or apartments at night. Except for the first time, he chose attractive women living alone. Once inside, waving a gun, he bound them, gagged his victims, and strangled them. No one had actually been killed yet, but it was only a matter of time, they said. And it was only a matter of time, too, before he started raping, they insisted, citing his masturbation at the scenes. The perpetrator was a dangerous freak!

The apartment was broiling, so Carolyn decided she might as well get some sun. She stretched out on the fire escape in a tiny orange bikini, rubbing in baby oil between reading chapters of her detective novel. She kept an eye on the traffic at the corner store below, waving to the people she knew. There were a few shouted conversations about the weather as she sucked on ice cubes. Eventually she strapped her platforms     back on and went for Chinese takeout.

Night fell. She watched some TV. A girlfriend from work called to invite her out dancing, but Carolyn demurred, saying she was too tired. She finished her book and turned out the lights. The whirring fan helped  to lure a cooling breeze through the open bedroom window. Carolyn rubbed her calves restlessly on the cool sheets, waiting for sleep. She was thinking about ice cream when she drifted off.

She woke, startled by a dark shadow in the window. He had his pistol, and his ski mask, and his backpack full of rope. "Don't scream, okay? I won't hurt you, I just... want to..."

Carolyn sat up, letting the sheet fall away. Her lithe breasts shone in the dim light. "I know," she smiled calmly. "Here..." She held her wrists against the headboard. " I know you need to tie me up." He stuttered forward to the bed, mouth agape. He was slim, with a tuft of blond hair showing at the edge of the mask, frozen by her unexpected        aplomb. Then he seemed to spring to life, eager to bind her before she changed her mind. He quickly lashed her left wrist to the vertical bar. As she reached for her right, she spoke.

"I knew you'd come. I've been reading about you." He looped the rope around her wrist, but his eyes were on her face. She let her arm fall slightly so he cinched the knot around the bottom of her slightly open hand. "You don't really want to hurt anyone. You always apologize to the women." Now that she was tied, he felt some confidence coming back. "I bet that gun's not even loaded," she continued smoothly. He seemed    embarrassed. "I know you just need to wrap your hands around a pretty girl's neck... you can't help it."

He stared openly at her. "How'd you...?"

"There are other men like you..." she trailed off seductively. "Not enough of them." Arching her back, Carolyn exposed her throat. "I need it, too. I want you to strangle me while you make love with me." He was stark still, but his cock was visibly hard under his jeans. "Come on, take that mask off. I want to see you."

He pulled the wool away. His pale hair was slick with sweat, plastered around fine nervous features. "You... you really want that?"

"Yes. I do." Carolyn opened her thighs to him. In a flash he had his pants off and was on top of her. He plunged inside like a high schooler, caressing her neck with flabbergasted wonder. "Come on, baby," she gasped. "Squeeze harder. Leave me some bruises!" He tightened his two-handed grip and she came explosively, mouth straining open in a silent scream. He was pumping crazily, about to dive over the edge        himself, when she froze. "Wait!"

"Huh? What?"

"I have fantasies, too."

She had freed her right hand during his frenzy. Now it rose from under her pillow with a large .45. She grinned at his shock before she blew his brains out.

Epilogue

"That poor brave girl," one policeman murmured to another, careful not to let the blanket-wrapped Carolyn hear him. "He escalated bad. He sure woulda killed her."

"Stan, I can't bring myself to tell her he didn't have no bullets."

"Then don't! He woulda fucking strangled her! Just load it up quick, see? She doesn't need any legal trouble."

"Yeah, sure. Citizen has a right to defend herself, right?"

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