(A Howie Visual)

"Can I come in?" I say as I knock softly on Pollyanna's bedroom door.

"Howie?" she asks, her voice shaky. "Sure, you can come in." I open the door and see my sister sitting at her make up table staring into the mirror.

Pollyanna looks so good in her wedding dress. Actually, it's the same dress my mom and all my sisters wore when they all got married.

"Are you all right?" I ask as I sit on the bed. I see my reflection in Pollyanna's lighted mirror. She looks scared out of her wits.

"I don't know if I want to do this," she says.

"Well, you love Jason, don't you?" I ask.

"Yes, but," she says. "Mom and Dad spent so much money on this wedding. If the marriage doesn't work out, I will feel so guilty."

"What makes you think it's not going to work out?" I ask.

"I don't know," she replies.

"I mean, look at Mom and Dad," I remind her. "They've been married for forty years. Angie and her husband have been married for…"

"I know," she says. "But I can't help but think that maybe I'll be the one to break that chain."

Before I can answer, Angie comes into the room, followed by Raquel. They're dressed in matching pink bridesmaids dresses. They don't look too bad for bridesmaids dresses. Angie kneels down next to Pollyanna and puts her arm around her shoulders. Raquel sits next to me on the bed.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Raquel tells me flirtatiously. I'm not in the mood for her games, but I play along.

"I'm not the groom," I tease back. "So I can be in here if I want."

"But what if we were changing?" she says in mock surprise. Please!

"Look," I snap at her. "I knocked, okay? Besides I wouldn't think you'd mind if I walked in on you."

"Howie," she giggles. "I was just teasing." I turn away from her.

"Oh God!" says Polly standing up quickly. "I'm going to be sick." She runs out of the room. Angie follows her.

"Be careful with that dress," Angie calls out. "It's a family heirloom." I wonder who's going to wear it next. Me?

"Howie?" says Raquel, patting my back. I still don't turn back around to face her. She leans over and blows in my ear.

"What do you think you're doing!" I snap as I turn to face her.

"I thought we reached a new understanding," she says coyly. "I thought you liked me."

"It was sex," I tell her bluntly. "I'm a guy and guys'll take sex any way they can get it." She stands up and smoothes her dress. She really does look good, but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know that.

"Sure," she says, smiling. God she's got a nice smile. "You just keep telling yourself that. I gave you the opportunity of a lifetime and you know it." She leaves the room, but takes one last look at me over her shoulder before disappearing.

I get up and walk across the hall to the bathroom and knock on the door.

"Is everything okay in there?" I ask.

"Everything's fine Howie, thanks," says Angie from behind the door. I can hear Polly gargling.

The ceremony is very nice. The wedding party pulls everything off without a hitch. Jason's nephew and niece are the ring bearer and flower girl. They look cute in their little clothes. I purposely ignore Raquel as I escort her down the aisle. It's hard, since I can feel her eyes on me. When we get to the front of the church, the groomsmen and bridesmaids separate. I can still feel Raquel's stare.

Pollyanna has a big smile on her face as she makes her entrance. "And I Love Her" by the Beatles fills the church. I look over at Jason, who's beaming. 'He better appreciate her', I told myself.

Jason's nephew almost drops his pillow as he raises it up to Jason. Everyone draws a collective sigh of relief when he catches it. Thank God there's pins stuck in it to keep the rings from sliding off.

I look over at my mom who, of course, is crying. My dad's trying not to cry but I can tell he's about to start.

Jason's brother, Mark, Jason and I all ditch the receiving line to tie cans to Jason's car and decorate it. Raquel comes outside, sits on the church steps and watches us.

"Here to supervise?" John teases.

"Yes," she giggles. "And from here, everything looks good." Is she checking out my ass?

The dinner is held in the church assembly hall. I can't avoid sitting next to Raquel since there are place cards on the long table at the front of the room. Mark and John refuse to stop clinking their glasses, signaling the bride and groom to stand up and kiss. After about twenty minutes of this crap, Polly gives John a dirty look and he stops. Jason must've given Mark the same look, because he stops also.

I feel something on my leg. Lifting the tablecloth and looking under it, I can see that Raquel has taken off her shoe and is now proposing a game of footsie. I decide to take her up on her offer, but on my terms. I reach under the table, grab her foot and squeeze as hard as I can. She screams loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. They all stop talking and eating and look over at us. I bend over my plate and continue shoveling food into my mouth. I steal a glance at Raquel, who looks mortified.

The reception and dance are being held in my parents' back yard. They've hired a band to play, even though I offered to bring in my Boys for the occasion.

"You've been working so hard and this is a special occasion, Howard," my mom politely declined. She's right, I need a vacation. But I could tell by the look she gave me that she secretly hoped I'd insist on performing.

Polly and I manage to perform a rendition of "Fly to Heaven" the song we wrote and recorded for the Dorough Lupus Fund.

As soon as I step off the little stage, my mom asks me to get a bottle of wine from the kitchen pantry. When I get inside the pantry, the door closes behind me. I turn around and see Raquel standing there. She turns off the light.

"What the…"

"How 'bout a quickie?" she asks. I turn the light back on.

"Raquel," I tell her. "My mom sent me in here to get a bottle of wine. It's not an invitation for you to come and try to rape me!" I grab a bottle, push Raquel out of the way and leave the pantry.

Once outside, I hand my mom the bottle and ask Jason's sister, Stephanie, to dance. She's a pretty girl who's in her early twenties, I think. She's got blonde hair, natural not bottled like Raquel's. She and I make small talk as we dance. 'What did you think of the wedding?' 'Oh, it was beautiful…'

I notice Raquel dancing with Mark. She shoots a nasty glance at me. When the song ends, I ask her to dance.

"Why, I'd love to, Howard," she says, giving me a fake smile. Just my luck, it's a slow song. She grabs my ass as I spin her around on the floor. The song isn't even over, but I pull away from her and grab her wrist. I drag her around the back of the house to the front.

"Okay," I tell her. "You and I are going to have our own little party. Get in the car!"

"Where are we going?" she asks as she slips into the passenger side. Her voice is a mix of confusion and fascination.

"To a motel," I tell her. "You wanna act like a nympho, at least act like it in the appropriate place." I had intended to show her how obnoxious she was being. This is supposed to be her cue to apologize, politely decline my offer, get the hell out of my car and go back to the party.

"Ooh, let's go then," she squeals. Alas, my plan has backfired. Do I tell her it was all a joke and leave her in the car to cry her eyes out? Or do I take her to the damn hotel and have my way with her.

I opt for the latter. I could use a good screw and she's more than willing. What the hell?

I stop at a convenience store on the way to buy some condoms. She said she was on the pill, but I don't care. I don't say a word to her during the whole trip, but she keeps trying to initiate a conversation. Talking about the weather and how 'bout them Marlins. Whatever.

I stop at the first motel I see. It's not fancy but that doesn't matter. It's not like we'll be using the room for that long anyway. When we get inside the room, I flop down on the bed. Raquel lays down next to me and tries to kiss me. I push her away.

"Stand at the foot of the bed," I tell her. She obeys. She sure does look hot in that bridesmaid dress. Her hair is done up with flowers. She looks good as a blonde.

"Bend over," I command. She complies. I have a nice view of her cleavage and that alone is enough to get me aroused. I undo my fly, take out my penis and begin stroking.

"Okay, now take off the dress," I tell her without missing a beat, pun intended.

She reaches behind her back, undoes the zipper, lets the dress fall down around her feet and steps out of it. She's wearing a pink push-up bra, a lacy pink thong and a pink garter belt holding up pink silk stockings. She looks like a Victoria's Secret ad. Not that that's a bad thing. It's like jacking off to a live version of the catalog.

"Take off the garter belt, stockings and shoes," I say still stroking. They're off in like, two seconds.

"Take off the bra," I say. She takes it off. "Play with your tits," I say. She plays with her tits. I play with my dick. This is easy!

"Okay, turn around," I tell her. She turns around and I check out her ass. Nice!

"Take off the panties but bend over as you do it," I say. She does as she's told. She stand up and turns to face me.

"Uh, uh," I tell her. "Did I tell you to straighten back up and turn around? No, I did not. Assume the position you were in." She turns back around and bends over. I stop stroking, crawl toward the end of the bed and slap her ass hard.

"Ouch!" she says and then starts giggling.

"Hurt?" I tease.

"In a good way," she says. Well, I'll make her hurt even more in a good way. A good way for me, that is.

"Come and lay down on the bed," I tell her. She sprawls out on her back, looks up at me and smiles. I don't return the smile. I stand where she was just standing and take off all my clothes. As I stand naked, my penis points at her accusingly.

"Do you masturbate, Raquel?" I ask. I really want to know the answer to this question.

"Yes," she whispers, smiling.

"And do you ever think of me while you do it?" I ask. I want to know the answer to this question too. She bites her lip and nods.

"Do it now!" I snap. She looks at me, puzzled.

"Raquel, I thought you wanted me," I tease.

"I do but…"

"Do it!"

She begins fingering herself and I go back to stroking.

"How often do you masturbate?" I ask. This is getting good. I stroke a little faster.

"Howie!"

"Answer the question!" It's hard keeping a straight face. I stop stroking and wait for her answer.

"Just about every night," she replies. "And in the morning when I shower." She can't be serious.

"And how often are your fantasies about me?" I demand, stroking again.

"Almost always," she says.

"Almost always?" I chuckle. "What the hell kind of answer is that?"

"Okay, always," she says nervously.

"And how long have I been the star of your masturbation fantasies?" This I gotta hear!

"Since that time you first kissed me," she says. I stop stroking and stare at her in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," she says, all serious and shaking her head.

"So," I interrogate. "If you've been jacking off while thinking of me," she stops fingering herself, "did I say stop playing with yourself?" she resumes, "then why the hell did you ignore me for fourteen fucking years. Did you know that's how long it's been?" My voice rises and I sound angry. I am angry, a little.

"I was too embarrassed to say anything to you," she says, her voice cracking.

"Too embarrassed to say 'I'm sorry Howie for slapping you?!'," I shout at her. A tear rolls down her cheek. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

"Okay, it's time," I say, my voice getting calmer.

"For what?"

"For me to fuck the crap outta you," I say, giving her my most charming smile. She looks at me with horror in your eyes. This is better than I imagined. Yes!

I grab the plastic bag off of the dresser and take out the box of condoms. I retrieve one from the box and lay on the bed next to Raquel.

"Put this on me," I tell her. She rips open the wrapper and unrolls the condom onto my penis. She lays on her back again and looks over at me, expectantly.

I position myself on top of her and prepare to enter her. Then I stop.

"You know what?" I say. "I don't think if I want to do this anymore."

"Howie!"

"Beg for it!"

"I can't!" she sounds so feeble.

"Yes you can!" I snap. "Do it!" She starts to cry. For a minute, I feel like apologizing to her. For only a minute.

"Please Howie," she sobs quietly. "I can't take this torture anymore. Just fuck me!"

"Okay," I whisper. I enter her as gently as I can.

"Just ram it in already," she snaps. "Damn, for someone who wants to fuck the crap outta me, you sure don't know what the hell your doing!"

With that I ram into her and pound her hard. Within minutes the two of us come together. I pull out, dispose of the condom and go to the bathroom. The Raquel and I get dressed.

I feel a little guilty for what I just did. Why couldn't she just slap my face again when I propositioned her and just gone back to the party? My parents have known the Bustamantes for ages and here, I just violated their little girl. But she gave me her permission.

"Why'd you dye your hair?" I ask.

"Because I wanted to," she replies.

"Because it looks horrible," I tell her. Really, it doesn't, but I feel like messing with her.

"I don't care what you think," she says.

When we get back to the house, the party's still going strong. No one even asks us where we've been.

As Raquel starts to leave with her parents, she gives me her phone number.

"Keep in touch," she says with fake enthusiasm.

"Oh I will," I respond in kind. She hugs me and whispers in my ear.

"Call me whenever you want noncommittal sex," she says.

I might take her up on that. But then again, I might not.