The Bachelor

By Noelani Sky

Pann Waterford is a mixed bag hero of outlaw know how and defender of principal, and he's an action packed force of nature in his own right. He loves women. He loves everything about women, and considers it his unique mandate to ensure that large numbers of them are satisfied. This mission while not unique, has its own power of attraction and so many adventures and calamaties are soon to giving rise to life. Pann will unexpectedly find his life completely overtaken by a woman so winsome, he can finally see himself satisfied by only one. He was hoping for a smoothe transition to monagamy, but when a man has slept with most of his hometown and county, that may not be so easy. Love is elusive and costly for him when his past becomes his nemesis. Francesca Copper is a beautiful spirit with a trail of tears behind her. She had found the world to be so hurtfully dangerous that she held herself away from everyone but her family and a few friends. The world however; did notice that an angel was missing, and the one man who most would consider totally unsuitable for this virtuous lady, may hold the key to the warmth and assurance that would see her for a life time. If she would just give him a chance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663206381

Noelani Sky

Noelani Sky is a native of Hawaii and resided in San Francisco for two decades. She has been writing since childhood, and now lives in the beautiful Gold Country of the California Sierras. She continues to write and play music in her mountain home.

Book preview

THE CALL OF PAN,

A SONG OF SUMMER FRUITING

The warming night veils and hides, it crafts Desires ‘clandestine core. The wild, vastitudes, the hidden tape of the mind’s panoramic, melding shore. O’ the fleshy limbs entwined, the kisses hot, branding needs of tender spawn. Arise let Fire await surround, and overtake Gate and Guard beyond.

The twin pillars shake as her thirsts are slaked at the heat of lingam’s song.

The crescendo shocks at the breaking lock of newly minted want.

Moonlit night, the brevity; a joyful thief of secret thought.

The starry time of taming heat yields at break of dawn.

Come to me O’ Pan, Lord of the Hunt, and bring the heat, the horn, the new. Come play your pipe, my lurid Love discard my burdened back of rules.

Now what is left is not unsaid, just brought forth by hidden fate. The shapely smile of wildness grown her visage so soft aglow in wait. Now in her lodges a knowledge new yet old as legends told. In her eyes resides awakened light, now yearning to unfold.

As primal woman; like the first Eve, the prima of tempting charms. Her serpent’s counsel revealed a certain fruit she did eat a growing loose. Alas, poor Eve, this very day is smeared, for the whole of man’s obsessive noose. Take and eat, pick my sweet, I only Immortalize with you. Yet was she so wrong for being led astray, when such knowledge may yet prove true?"

CHAPTER

ONE

Billy was working in the yard when Coach Abernathy pulled up in his diesel truck. Where is that brother of yours, Billy? Billy stood up from the herb he was thinning and thought how great it was that Coach was taking an interest in Pann. Maybe, if he were interested in sports he wouldn’t ditch school so much. Billy answered respectfully, as he’d always been told to mind the teachers, and responded, I think he’s at that hotel on the outskirts of town next to the diner. I don’t know when he’ll be back. Would you like for me to tell him that you came by? Coach Abernathy’s eyes were pitch black as he answered, No, I’ll find him. Billy would have not been so sure this was a cursory look at Pann’s suitability for the football team if he would have noticed the sawed off shotgun on the front seat of the truck. The truck sped off in a cloud of dust, tires spinning. The hotel parking lot in the temperate afternoon was uncharacteristically sparse.

Seemingly devoid of city life, with little noise from traffic, perhaps because it was a slow week day. There were not more than fifty small-town cars berthed discreetly in the rudimentary, asphalted field. He wondered at the accuracy of his haphazard guess? Did panic just take up temporary residence in his head? Possibly, but as this was the perspective from an unaccustomed aerial view, his questionable estimate could likely be wrong. Things look different while clinging to a desperate hold off of a concrete outcropping no less than four stories up. Thus the old adage; Don’t look down no matter what, was the only mantra that seemed to fit, he desperately focused on the internal sound till it echoed with a surreal disembodied spooky voice.

Pann Waterford had the devil’s own luck. He had made a timely escape from a gun toting cuckold, who was there to kick in the hotel room door. The juvenile gigolo knew it could be worse considering things were deteriorating fast this very moment inside the hotel room. The spectacle of Wynona’s purple-hued, venous distended, furious husband was yet annoyingly alive by the sounds he could still hear though albeit fading. It seemed that normally placid, and affable, Coach Abernathy was losing the fuel for mindless rage? Pann assured himself that he was likely better off right there. He reminded himself that he was suspended in mid-air, and only upper body muscle groups stood between himself and certain death or paralysis. He just needed a safer refuge in which to hide. One that would have the benefit of flooring beneath his rakish feet. Pann kept telling himself to just breathe and keep calm, and all would soon be fine. He had no idea how this was going to be anything other than a horrifying fall, followed by a grotesque landing and ending in a tragic climatic death. He was after all, only hanging from the wrought iron rails, affixed with rust haphazardly, to an aged balcony of a rented room in the rustic town’s most notorious motel.

The Always Inn Hotel was far from five stars. Yet it was clean, serviceable and its rooms well-maintained. In a bind while traveling, and fatigued it was acceptable to most. The main attraction of the place was that it was rumored by the locals of Heaven’s Gate, as the best venue for a clandestine tryst. This was, of course, Pann’s reason for his eventful stay. He was discreetly party to the plot and twisted escapade with the chic and married Wynona Abernathy. She was simply irresistible. After all Pann, was a teenage tom cat, and was star struck practically dumb at the star quality of this reined sexual woman. He was in awe at first glance. He had never seen anything so fascinating.

She had the reddest hair that flowed in waves like a fiery foreign waterfall, harmoniously riding in a riot down her back. Her face was fine-boned, with a radiant complexion that almost seemed like a living photo retouched. Her lips looked moist, yet delicately full and succulent as ripened fruit. She was eloquent and her speech was refined as she spoke. She was expressive with that look of a fleet doe. Her shimmering eyes were dark brown and soulful with need. He loved that she had the creamy skin of high moneyed courtesans. She was unquestionably exotic. She mesmerized him further the first time that they had met. Pann, saw most notably, that this fitting trophy was still too young to be so Junoesque and yet unsatisfied. She was one bang up of a teacher, and her lesson plan included mastery of the task. She did not quit till he demonstrated the skill she was looking for, the way she liked it done. Then she’d make him repeat the newly learned technique once again to confirm that he had it down. It was one of the most intense experiences as yet, and he knew that she was taking a huge chance. Their arrangement had essentially been clear from the beginning. Wynona would spend time with Pann as her schedule permitted. Pann was offered her tutelage to help him advance his erotic skills. He was thoroughly enjoying being used for a pleasure toy at will. It was infinitely more interesting than bagging groceries as a clerk at the local Piggy Wiggly! Wynona Abernathy was one hell of a woman, and Pann had certainly learned much under her erotic tutelage. He was a most fitting cub to cougarize, as they say in those types of circles that is. She didn’t know if she was a cougar as the current craze labeled older women with younger men. She only knew she needed someone with stamina, and strength. She was not ashamed to say that she could ride like a rhinestone cowboy, and no exaggeration that means all night. She loved a good rodeo ride.

She loved to banter with him as they laid in satisfied post-coital bliss. She was so sated and relaxing there while blankly daydreaming, staring at the ceiling and enjoying a psychological smoke. Well, touch me in the morning and walk away, she said triumphantly. She sighed at the thought of how she joyfully yelped her pleasure the Southern way. Ooooh-weeee!

He had good reason to risk getting maimed for life if they were caught. She was the gorgeous, neglected and pointedly decades younger wife of the local hero football coach. The very same hero who was now in an insane quandary and threatening to rip him limb-from-limb.

The football coach was looking for him. The heavily muscled, deeply tanned, six-foot five, seasoned pugilist, and crack-shot huntsmen football coach, was looking for him with a shotgun. Personally, defiance of convention followed by a gruesome death by a jealous husband was not his idea of having a good time. He was four stories up, and dangling perilously close to a horrendous end while wearing only thin boxers and one sock. His future seemed bleak and spiraling fast, and the situation was looking more uncertain by the second. Pann looked in all directions and twisted from side to side as he adjusted his grip on his perch. He could still hear the enraged voice of the hulk, Lysander Abernathy, once again doggedly searching the room.

Pann wondered at the irony of life. The morning had been a wonderland of sex and frolic. Only thirty minutes ago, he was in post coital bliss, and feeling like a superstar at rest until startled by the surprise tell-tale intrusive, police-like knock ubiquitously recognized as that of a furious cuckold. The unexpected visitor was insistent and not surprisingly, the loud, harsh knocks would not cease. He was purple-faced as he threatened to bring down the fragile door. Pann was unsure how they had been found. No one knew that they had come here. Pann only knew he could no longer see the lovely Wynona later today Jealous husbands weren’t known for diplomacy, and Coach Abernathy would not be denied his right to thrash 17 year-old Pann Waterford within an inch of his life. He felt justified to execute a rapid dose of instant justice. At the minimum, if his intended target begged him in terror for his life. He might consider the possibility of being merciful to the youth. Lysander was not inclined as of yet, to accept the offer of only a disfiguring permanent maiming instead of the previously planned slow and lingering death. He had to figure a way out of the current major drama of the day. Pann still could hear the guttural utterings of Lysander Abernathy as he demanded the truth from his disheveled wife. He was waving a shotgun with reckless abandon, and yelling descriptions of the planned tortures he would inflict when he could get his hands on Pann. The threats that were flowing from the man were shocking, violent, quite menacing, and painful as means of death. Obviously, this intrusive guest complicated his plans for the day. An incident as such was exactly an example of how good things go wrong. He told himself once again that everything will workout fine. There were just a few small problems simultaneously surfacing, which he would have to contend with real soon. Wynona was attempting quite ineffectually to calm her husband so that they could leave. She was unsure how long Pann could stay suspended from the doubtful bars of the balcony.

Lysander please, you’re frightening me with all this crazy talk. You have no reason to feel threatened. You are everything I could ever need, and no one could hold a candle to you. I still love you. I really do, my lovinest man. Put down that monstrous shotgun, stop screaming because it’s a scurrilous scene and we are becoming a spectacle for the gossip mill. I need you to take me home right now. I am feeling that I’ll faint quite soon. I came here for a retreat today, and I really need to soothe my nerves. I was alone, meditating and giving myself some very messy Organic beauty treatments. I didn’t want to do it at home; Lysander you know how messy those are. Our bathroom is only just remodeled, and really Oh I abhor the thought of staining the marble or porcelain my love. Please, let’s not make this any more shocking, disgraceful or fatiguing. Please Lysander, I really have had enough for today. I’m sure you have as well. I’d like to go home now, husband, Wynona didn’t doubt her ability to get Lysander to agree, she was just so nervously conscious of the god awful scene.

Her cadence was moderate in tempo, and her hands had found their way into his buttoned shirt. She leaned closely into her husband’s well-muscled chest, and spoke with a seductive, breathy voice. He was successfully being lulled into the lure and suddenly he felt unsure. This kid was the local Heaven’s Gate miscreant and destined for prison or death. Pann Waterford was a walking testament to white-trash parenting, while his own wife, Wynona, a beautiful socialite. The little bastard was only 17 years-old to boot! What was the possibility of such an affair he asked himself. He was starting to feel contrite, and a fool. He had made a huge production in this public place and the entire town would soon know. Wynona was right. They should leave immediately before it becomes any worse. He allowed her to usher him towards the door with her small hand in the crook of his large arm. She was lightly squeezing the dense, fleshy bicep, and pressing her body towards him. He was starting to feel a genuine louse, for accusing her the way he did.

When the couple had passed under the artificial portico of the hotel room door, Wynona felt her tightly wound body release its fears, and she almost sighed relief aloud. Her repeatedly cuckolded husband must have sensed the change, and immediately rebounded back to insane plus two as if it were a reflex of some hyper-vigilant cavemen type. He jerked his arm from her support abruptly, and was headed full-tilt back to the shady hotel room. Wynona took a deep breath and cast her eyes heavenward in pure exasperation. Unfortunately, for her there was no consoling him, so once again a dusky visage full of rage was accusing her as severely now as he had before. "Dear God! She felt as if she would surely burst a garter from the mental strain of this fiasco. She was worried about everything: Pann, the rumors that would now start, and, yes, even her husband as well. She was terrified that he’d actually shoot either himself, or someone else, and go to prison. She was terrified that Pann would fall from this height. She could hardly stand the stress of suspense much more.

She could scarcely believe her minor indiscretion as her mother would say, had unraveled into a complete and utter circus stunt near tragedy this way. The entire affair was madness, and unfortunately she knew that it was over but she readily had no choice but to admit that he was shaping up to be a fine lover. She sighed to herself acknowledging that their tutorial sessions were now at an end, but at the same time she felt a sense of accomplishment. She had gotten the young blade off to a good start. Well hell, some lucky lady will be thanking the lord for his education one day. A virtuoso of pleasure he would be given a few years. He had certainly swept her chimney like a pro! He was a little hunk of’ burnin love! She was not stingy with well-earned accolades and to Pann she granted him his due. Wynona snapped back to the present moment, and reminded herself she’d enjoy the reverie of this adventure later. Right now she was in deep shit. Her underage, hormone ridden, but well endowed lover was in danger of falling to his death.

Her husband, normally tame and solicitous, was acting as if he was a barking lunatic. He was clumsily ripping at the window hangings in a destructive amateur raid. He was ranting and shoving the barrel of his gun under the bed. He was screaming death threats profanely again, and looking everywhere for Pann. Wynona went stone still when her husband went out onto the balcony. Lysander? she asked. Lysander? Please stop it. My god people will think that you are positively deranged. Let’s calm down, I’m begging you, she pleaded as she continued to watch him from the doorway. She coyly touched her French manicured, scented fingertips to her décolletage. She tried to hold her voice softly with a lilt. She widened her eyes and began to plead for relief, innocently sounding as she could, As you can see all the way from here there’s nothing there. There is no patio furniture or anything that could be at all used to conceal. Husband I am so fatigued, and I’d really be grateful if you’d take me home. I’m your wife Lysander, my nerves are bad and I am delicate too. All of this stress is because of you, and your brandishing that big shotgun. You are responsible for me you know. Please my love, let us leave this dreadful scene. Let’s go back to our lovely home. I think in light of all this misguided fervor, we should retire early with a cocktail in bed, and relax. All of this excitement is bad for the adrenals and such.

She surreptitiously looked behind the parking lot. She saw no signs of a crowd below, no police or fire trucks. Okay, that’s fine I think, but where is Pann? He couldn’t possibly still be hanging there. She felt a pang of losing something she had a fondness for as she was compelled by her husband to the elevator and her old life again. Damn, that boy was good, and she felt regret that their friendship reached its end. Once she was in the parking lot she looked up towards the 4rth story balcony of the room. There was nothing there thankfully, but how and where did he finally go? As she was in the custody of her now paranoid, jealous husband and she knew he would be around much more. There would be no further opportunity to indulge her lust, and that was surely a pity. As she was belted to the passenger seat of Lysander’s diesel flatbed truck, and there was no point in looking back as they drove away. The country station played the song that ironically seemed to fit the day. Willie Nelson’s crooning his good adulterous cant, "And I don’t care if it’s wrong or right. I’m just trying to understand… let the devil take tomorrow.. for tonight I need a friend..".

By this time, Pann had indeed found a way to divert the calamity that was close. He could not successfully return to scale the ledge of the wall to the balcony back in. He had to move in beneath the alcove when Coach Abernathy was almost on top of him. There was no other exit to be had then to access by the third floor. He used momentum from his frozen legs to swing himself forward. Luckily, he had the required thrust and it made for the correct trajectory. He let go at the point of the maximum and landed right on the balcony located directly beneath his fourth floor room.