Dahmer's Not Dead

Why shouldn’t women be imprudent? Men were imprudent every day. Men slept around whenever they felt like it, marriages notwithstanding. I’m just letting some beat narc drive me home, she thought. It’s not like I’m going to sleep with him.

Nick, evidently, had some other plans. While he was driving her home in his unmarked Metro car, his right hand had somehow found it’s way to her knee.

And Helen didn’t even care.

She was not the least bit attracted to Nick—not that he was unattractive. He just wasn’t her type. He was pure-bread career cop, and that was no prize as far as she was concerned. She rubbed her locket further when she deliberated, Maybe a distraction is what I need. Some guy I’m never gonna see again? Who cares? Men don’t care. Why should women? Why is it that men can have indiscriminant sex and that’s cool, that’s macho, that’s just men being men, but when a woman does it, she’s a slut? It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

I don’t even give a damn any more, she thought.

When Nick’s hand had progressed to the point of the middle of her thigh, she pushed it back. “Let’s take things a little easier, huh, Nick?”

“Aw, sorry. I mean, I thought that maybe, you know maybe—”

What she said next astounded her. “You want to go to bed with me, Nick? All right.”

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice rung with enthusiasm.

“But one thing I don’t really need is a gynecological exam in the front seat of your unmarked. So cool down a little, will you?”

“Sure, yeah, sure…”

But even Nick, a stereotypical cop, when he parked in front of her apartment—even he had the rare decency to offer, “Hey, down to the wire huh? Well, look, Helen, I gotta tell you, I really think you’re a beautiful woman, and—well, you know—you turn me on, and I’d think it’d be great if we went up to your joint and, you know, had a good roll in the hay. But, you know, I just wanna make sure it’s all cool. I mean, you said you were drunk, and I’d hate for anything to happen, and then in the morning you hate my guts ’cos you think I took advantage of you. I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m just some rubberneck cockhound—er, pardon my French.”

Helen looked at him cock-eyed. “You know something, Nick? You may not be the best mannered guy I’ve ever met, but that’s pretty thoughtful.”

“Hey, can I help it I’m good-looking and thoughtful?”

Helen let out a long breath. “Come on, Nick. Let’s go upstairs.”

««—»»

It was some facsimile of anticipation that made her pulse race, she felt weak. I am weak, she thought, facing him in the dark murk of her own apartment now. Weak or stupid. She’d avoided involvements with cops for her entire career because she’d seen the stuff so many times. Cops made the worst one-night stands, and that’s exactly what this was. And they blabbed their bed adventures to every other tin in the squad room the next morning. Cops had sex the same way they lived: on the edge, tense, animal-like. Maybe that’s all this was—some primal flush, some need in her psyche that almost never popped up. At least he works for another department, she thought.

“How about some lights?” he said.

How about some diversity? she replied with her thoughts. Instead of turning on any lights, she lit some candles which threw their shapes onto the walls like flittering ghosts. Next thing she knew, they were embracing…

Talk about breaking the ice.

“I want you,” Nick said. Helen nearly laughed at the corniness of it. It all just felt so dumb. Light stubble whisked against her face when he kissed her. She could taste cigarettes and beer. She responded to the kisses only half-aware, the other half still trying to reckon this. This isn’t working, it first occurred to her, but then his hands began to change her mind. Intent and rather rough hands squeezing her body with hesitation. Any other time it would’ve been too fast for her, but maybe she simply didn’t care. He took off her skirt and blouse akin to a greedy kid opening a present. When his hands slipped up her belly to her bra’d breasts, an eruption of glitter seemed to fill her head.

“Christ, you’re beautiful…”

Helen didn’t know how to respond to the comment. Was he saying it merely for the sake of formality? Maybe he means it. Maybe he really thinks I’m beautiful. But—

What now?

She sought some other diversion because, well, she felt awkward just standing here in the middle of her dark living room being gropily kissed by a man she barely knew.

I know—

A few moments later cool water rained down on them; they were in the shower, their clothes, garment by garment, leading a trail to the bathroom. It was still dark, though, which she liked. Only a single candle lit the bathroom as they continued to embrace. The water at least partially sobered her up, refining her senses. She couldn’t really see his body; Nick was just a wet shape in there with her, an attendant shadow.

Neither of them spoke; all she could perceive was the detailed hiss of the water and the sensation of his hands sudsing her body, beguiling her. This was a shocking luxury, standing there in the small torrent and being so intimately investigated. Then he pulled her head back by her hair, licked her ear. Helen felt her body betray her. The contrast of cool water and warm lather made her nipples stand up, right away, and now his hands were smoothing suds over her breasts. The slow, radiating pleasure infuriated her in a way. He turned her, pressed her breasts together, and offered them to the water.

She felt the trail of suds course down her legs. More and more, Helen felt thinly wired, like a rosined bowstring fit to snap. Nick’s hands slid down her hips. An exciting impulse brought her up on her tiptoes. The hands continued to inch lower, toward her…

««—»»

Afterward, she felt delightfully worn out. She lay in bed as if dropped there. The sheets were damp; they hadn’t even bothered drying off after the shower. Nick’s attentions had surprised her, a see-saw of divided sensuality: gentle and affectionate one moment, primitive and rough the next. Everything he’d done had burned her fuse down a little further until the detonation had occurred. Quite a detonation indeed. Yes, her climax had felt like a bomb going off. And now—

He stood at the bedside, in the dark. After all that had ensued, she’d never really seen his body. Just glimpses in candlelight, and vague outlines.

The sound of clothes being put on now, the clink of a belt buckle.

He’s leaving, she realized, and that was good. She didn’t feel used at all—if anything, she’d used him. But for him to stay the night with her, to sleep with her…

That would’ve felt too strange.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, the first words he’d spoken since he’d told her she was beautiful.

Her thoughts snagged. “No, I-I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said too quickly.

“Another guy, huh?”

Her mouth opened, closed. Not anymore, she thought. But it would hurt his feelings to say so. He’d actually been very considerate, he’d even had condoms. Instead she lied, “Yeah, something like that. I’m sorry, Nick. It’s nothing personal. I mean, it was… It was a good time. I just feel kind of weird about all this.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Naw. Don’t worry about it,” he said as easily as he said anything. “But I’ll call you some time, you know,