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The Best of 2012
by Amanda Earl
The Graffiti Artist
by Amanda Earl
Sex With An Old Woman
by Amanda Earl
The Vampire Responds
by Amanda Earl
by B.K. Bilicki
by Big Ed Magusson
by Big Ed Magusson
You Belong to Me
by C. Sanchez-Garcia
Frostbite the Ice Pimp
by Chuck Lovepoe
Nikki Didn't Like It
by Daddy X
by Daddy X
A Woman in My Position
by Daddy X
It's Lovely. It's Horrible.
by Kathleen Bradean
by Nettie Kestler
by Raziel Moore
Fixed in Amber
by Remittance Girl
The Angel of Loneliness
by Robert Buckley
The Great Sin
by Robert Buckley
by Robert Buckley
by Robert Buckley
An Unconventional Friendship
by Robert Buckley
By Alice Gray
The Fourth Veda
By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies
By Brady Sutton
Girls for Leash
The Peculiar Case of...
by C. Sanchez-Garcia
An Early Winter Train
The Lady and The Unicorn
Riding the Dog
An Evening At...
Readiness Is All
Fridays At The Benoit
Cruising On A Sea...
Bitsy Takes a Test
Are You Kidding?
Mr. Merridawn's Hum
By Cherry Black
Just A Simple Black Dress
By Chris Bridges
By Dominic Santi
Kiss of Peace
By G. E. Russell
First Love, Last Romance
This Desolate Eden
The Glass Cage
You Like It Like That...
By Helen E. H. Madden
When The Angels Fall
Husbands and Wives
The Fifth Horseman
The Monster Beneath...
Neighbor of the Beast
Over the Rainbow
By Helena Settimana
The Space Between
By J.T. Benjamin
Thornburg Sex Survey
Secret Lives and Lusts
What are Friends For
Olivia's Ulterior Motive
Advice From Miss Millicent
The Baby Doll
The Journals of Chastity
Zachary's Perfect Date
Sheila Discusses ...
It's About Sex
A House On Fire?
Maureen and Sheila...
By john e
I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
In Praise of Pussy
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?
By Juniper Maclay
By Keziah Hill
Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming
By L.A. Smith
By Lara Nickles
By Lilie Berlin
Naughty Little Girl
Color Less Ordinary
By Mike Kimera
At the Adult Bookstore
Playing With Barney
Till Death Do Us Part
It May Not be Art...
Living With It...
The Last Taboo
Paying For It
Sex with Owen
by Robert Buckley © 2011
Morgan and Linda dropped off their friends and neighbors at the curbside in front of their home.
“Think about it, okay?” Sally said, and waved.
Linda waved back, then Morgan drove three doors down and pulled into their own driveway. Neither Linda nor Morgan made a motion to get out of the car; they just sat, spinning the evening’s events over in their minds.
“Jesus,” Morgan said finally. “The last two people I’d ever suspect of ... well, especially Sally.”
Linda shrugged. “Why especially Sally?”
“C’mon, how long have we known Sally?”
“As long as we’ve known Dave, since our kids were small, since we moved here.”
“And in all that time, you’d think we’d have some inkling. I never would have guessed. Jesus.”
“But why especially Sally?” Linda persisted.
“Because she’s always been ... well ... she always struck me as utterly wholesome and ... I don’t know, the classic soccer mom.”
“Oh. And what about Dave, isn’t he your classic Little League dad?”
“Sure, but ... I guess I’m not as surprised about Dave. I just figure a guy is more likely to want to try something like that.”
“Well, I think I kind of admire them,” Linda said as she stepped out of the car.
Morgan sank back into his seat and watched her walk to their door. She looked back over a shoulder and waited. At last, he followed her.
Inside he waited for Linda to hang up her coat and kick off her shoes. He watched her carelessly shake out her hair and walk into their living room in her stockinged feet.
She looks so young, he thought, his gaze following her as he hung his coat over the shoulders of a wooden hanger and placed it in the hall closet.
She had stretched out on the sofa and was already flipping through the TV channels with the remote. He stood looking down at her, following the curve of her body.
“What do you mean: you admire them?”
Without looking up at him, she replied, “I think they’re very brave and adventurous. They’re doing something to fire up their love life.”
There it was. All his gnawing doubts that had grown over the past couple of years weren’t without foundation, after all. He wondered if she realized she had just confirmed as much for him. He felt his heart being squeezed inside his chest.
No one would guess she was a year older than he. She could easily pass for being a decade younger. He smiled as he recalled her being carded on her fortieth birthday. It was her petite figure, her blonde hair that hadn’t yet faded to silvery gold, and it was the way she moved her body. She had never lost her girlish grace.
She only complained about her tummy pooch, which came with their first child and never did melt away, despite her best efforts, but he thought it made her even more delectable and loved to nuzzle and kiss her there.
As for him, women still regarded him as handsome, but prematurely gray hair that had turned snow white always gave people the impression he had abducted her from the cradle.
He had always loved loving her, and always took his time. Foreplay for him was more fun than fucking, especially if he could make her gasp, and moan, and giggle that certain way when, he knew, a special sort of electricity was humming through her pussy.
And then he turned fifty and almost overnight some things took longer. Not that he minded that much, since he always took their lovemaking slow. But during the same time she had become impatient, and worse, indifferent. Or so it seemed to him, but she would not admit it.
“What’s your hurry?” he’d protest.
“What? I didn’t say anything,” she’d reply.
Now, she’d said it out loud, even if she hadn’t realized it. Dave and Sally were adventurous; they weren’t afraid to “fire up” their love life.
“I could think of better ways to kick-start a marriage,” Morgan said.
“It’s not their marriage,” Linda said. “It’s their sex life. It’s not the same thing.”
He shrugged. “I kinda always thought it was.”
“One’s just part of the other. You can have a good marriage without sex if you have to.”
“It wouldn’t be much fun,” he said.
“Everyone’s sex life gets staid after a while; I don’t think you can help it.”
“Is ours ... staid?” There, he put it out on the table.
The change in her expression told him she regretted what she had said, as if she’d let her guard slip.
“Well ... do you?”
Sure, he thought, wriggle out of it by turning it back at him.
“You said it can’t be helped. Am I to presume that it already has, then?”
“Geesh, Morg, you sound like a lawyer ... am I to presume ...” she mocked.
His jaw set. “Well, Jesus, why don’t we go to that party then?”
“The party ... the one Sally told us about, the damned monthly party that they go to ... to swing! She invited us; why the hell not?”
“You’d never ...”
“Hey, you said things with us were staid.”
“I did not.”
“Do you want to go, or what?”
She sat up and began to say something, but the words evaporated. She looked like she had just discovered herself standing in a minefield and he wasn’t going to cut her any slack.
Finally she shrugged. “I might go, you know, out of curiosity, just to see what goes on.”
“What goes on is married people meet up with other married people who they aren’t married to and fuck. At least, that’s my understanding.”
“Not ... necessarily. Sally says there’s no pressure and lots of couples just go to see what it’s like ... feel things out.”
“C’mon, Morg. It might be interesting, that’s all I’m saying.”
“You’d rather do that than see a movie and have dinner?”
“There’s nothing out that I want to see.”
“I ... I don’t think people go to those things unless they’re having problems.”
“Sally said it’s made them closer,” Linda said.
“You know ... I don’t remember Sally saying so much about it at dinner tonight. You two have been talking, haven’t you?”
“She’s mentioned it to me before.”
“About their swinging and swapping?”
“Yes.” She shrugged.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know ... about a year maybe. But they’d been doing it for longer than that, a couple of years now.”
“And what made her think you’d be interested?”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Morg, it just came up in conversation, like anything else. Like when she told me she was into yoga.”
“Did you tell her you weren’t happy with the way things were with us?”
“No, of course not. It just came up. You’re the one who sounds like you think things aren’t so good.”
“I’ve never said ...”
“When you turn your back on me afterward and don’t say anything ... I can tell something’s bothering you. You never used to do that; you always rubbed my back or snuggled for a while.”
“Lately when I do you shake me off.” He frowned.
“That’s just ... because I have to go to work in the morning; I need my sleep.”
They said nothing for a moment. He left her and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of apple juice and took a sip.
He went back into the living room.
“Do you want to go to this thing?” he asked.
“It might be fun.”
“I mean, just to see what goes on, what sort of people go there.”
“Probably a bunch of blowhards with their greasy booth-tanned pot bellies pushing out of their open shirts and wearing more gold chain around their necks than a pawn shop.”
She began to laugh.
“And their wives ... probably a bunch of desperate botoxed blousers with hair so over-treated it looks like fucking cotton candy.”
“Sally and Dave don’t look like that.”
“You really want to go ... just out of curiosity?”
“Yeah ... just to see what it’s like.”
“Sure, that’s all. Unless you see something you like,” she said with a smirk.
“Don’t even talk like that.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? We get bored out of our skulls and leave.”
He didn’t want to tell her what he thought was the worst that could happen.
“Yeah, okay. Since there are no good movies out.”
* * *
Linda made the arrangements with Sally.
“Do you want to go in their car, or ours,” Linda asked him while holding the phone.
“Separate,” Morgan insisted. “Just in case we want to cut out of there. I wouldn’t want to ruin their evening.”
Linda rolled her eyes. “Did you hear that? Yeah, okay, bye.”
The party was Saturday evening in a town about twenty miles away. That afternoon Morgan had helped Dave lay down and mortar some flagstones in his yard.
“Looking forward to tonight?” Dave asked.
“To tell you the truth, Dave, no.”
“What’s bothering you? I mean, Sally and I were a little nervous too when we first ...”
“Dave, don’t talk like this is going to be a first for me and Linda. We’re only going to satisfy Linda’s curiosity. Frankly, I don’t see why anyone who’s happy in their marriage ... I mean, I know you and Sally are, but ... look, Dave, you know how I feel about you guys, it’s just ... it came as a hell of a shock that you two did that sort of thing.”
Dave shook his head and smiled. “It’s okay, Morg, I never would have pictured us swinging either even a few years ago.”
“So, what the hell happened? I could never let another guy ... I mean, Sally’s such a sweet kid. She’s pretty. Hell, Dave, truth is I’ve always had a little crush on her. Linda even kids me about it. How can you stand to have her ...?”
“Screw another guy?”
“Well ... yeah.”
“She doesn’t make love to them, Dave. She has sex with them. There’s a difference. One is just ... recreation.”
“If you wanted recreation why not just take up tennis or something?”
“It’s hard to realize that you can’t provide for all the needs of someone you love so much, but when you do and you give her that freedom, it’s like telling her you trust her completely. I give her the freedom to enjoy sex with other people because I know she loves me exclusively.”
Morg wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Dave, old friend, that sounds like a lot of New Age horseshit.”
Dave laughed. “Okay, to each his own. Maybe after tonight you’ll change your mind, or at least look at it with a fresh perspective.”
“Not likely. But, it won’t mean we aren’t the kinds of friends we’ve always been.”
* * *
The place was immense, a huge red brick mansion set far off the road. What kind of people could afford the upkeep on a place like that, Morgan wondered as he followed Dave’s car along the winding drive.
Dave had explained the ground rules: First names only, and a stipend of twenty-five dollars for the hosts, Jill and Alan, to help defray the cost of providing refreshments and other sundries.
The woman who greeted them at the door was short and busty and wore a cotton burgundy sweater and a short leather skirt. Morg thought she looked a bit like a troll.
“Hi, Jill,” Sally said as she embraced the shorter woman and pecked her cheek. “We brought some friends. This is Linda and Morgan.”
“Welcome, the more the merrier. Are you new to the scene?”
“Huh?” Morg grumped.
“Yes, yes we are,” Linda interjected before Morgan could say any more. “Just getting our toes wet.”
“That’s fine, dear,” Jill replied. “We all had to start somewhere. There’s no pressure here; everyone understands that. It’s just simple etiquette, after all.”
Jill took their coats and gestured for them to enter the lounge, complete with a bar tended by her husband, Alan.
Morgan thought the place resembled the lobby of one of those chalet-type hotels. Plenty of comfortable furniture occupied by at least forty people chatting like a regular cocktail party.
Then Morgan noted the five gold-chain types at one end of the bar and made a mental note to avoid them. Otherwise, everyone looked fairly ordinary.
“Well, mingle, mingle,” Jill insisted.
Sally took Linda’s arm and led her to a group of women. Morgan could see introductions were under way and turned to see where Dave went to. It took him a moment to pick Dave out in the crowd. He too had joined another group, all guys standing near a granite block fireplace.
Morgan began to make his way toward them when he caught the bartender signaling to him.
“Hi, I’m Alan. It’s Morgan, right?”
“Jill just told me you arrived. Fresh meat, huh?”
“Just kidding. What are you drinking?”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
“Done. Have a seat; things are just beginning to liven up.”
Morgan sat reluctantly on the plush bar stool and began to swing around in an effort to keep track of Linda when he felt the tap on his shoulder. He turned to be greeted by a slight, mostly bald man with a black mustache so huge that it seemed to wear him.
“Hi, name’s Ernie. The wife insists I go by Ernest, but hey, while she’s playing I figure I can be Ernie. Been Ernie ever since I was a kid.”
Morgan took his hand. “Hiya, I’m Morgan.”
“Good to meet you. Haven’t seen you before.”
“That’s right. Never been before.”
“That’s okay. Always look forward to meeting fresh faces. Who’d you come with?”
Morgan turned and scanned the room. It took him a while to find Linda, seated in a far corner with the four women.
“Uh, there she is ... my wife, Linda.”
“Oh, yeah ... she’s a fox.”
“Don’t worry, Morgan, she’ll get plenty of attention.”
Morgan felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He wanted to knock this little asshole off his stool. But before he could react, Ernie pointed toward the opposite corner.
“See, there’s mine. My wife, I mean. Diane. Whacha think?”
The woman was tall; you could even say willowy, and brunette. She wore a black dress that bared a lot of cleavage and hugged her body like it had been sprayed on. She was surrounded by a coterie of five men. Morgan thought she looked artificial.
“How do you like those tits?” Ernie pressed. “Worth every dollar I paid for them, don’t you think?”
“Very nice,” Morgan nodded. “She’s very attractive.”
“Looks like she’ll be busy tonight. She likes multiples.”
“You know ... threesomes ... moresomes.”
“Oh. Doesn’t bother you at all?”
“You kidding? Look at how hot she looks. I couldn’t handle a woman like that by myself. I’m just happy to have her. And the best part ...”
“She likes to let me watch.”
Morgan nearly dropped his drink.
“How about Linda?”
“What? What the hell did you say?”
“Is she a showoff? Have you ever ...”
“Hey, to each his own. I was just asking.”
“Excuse me. I have to get some air.”
He stepped away from the bar and took another scan of the room. He’d lost sight of Linda. He’d already had enough; he wanted to get out of there. But then his curiosity was piqued.
A queue of three young couples had entered and joined the activities. Morgan turned back toward the bar.
“Yeah, Morgan. Need that drink refreshed?”
“No, it’s not that. Hey, those young people who just came in.”
“Well, they look kinda out of place.”
“I mean, the majority of the crowd is middle aged, like us. If those kids aren’t still in their twenties, well they just cracked their thirties.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. Well, we get lots of young couples. See, the guys enjoy an older woman’s experience, and the girls, they go for that ‘daddy’ experience.”
“Sure, see the little blonde with the ponytail – Susie?”
“Nothing she likes better than to be put over a daddy’s knee and spanked. Hey, you into spanking?”
“Um, not really.”
“I tried it. In fact, it was with Susie. The little minx came right while I was whacking her bare ass. Only thing is, later when we screwed, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. You know, I ain’t eighteen anymore.” He laughed.
Morgan smiled wanly. “Yeah, I can see your point.”
He watched as a man his age slid his hand under Susie’s ultra short skirt while the young man who accompanied her grinned.
He felt another tap and a squeeze on his arm. It was Jill.
“Now Morgan, I know you and Linda are here just to get a feel for things, but just in case ...” she winked. “We have playrooms on either side of the corridor behind the fireplace, but all our single-action rooms are upstairs. And please feel free to use the Jacuzzi – bathing suits are not optional.” She winked again and left him to tend to her other guests.
“Jesus, I have to get out of here,” Morgan grumbled under his breath. He scanned the room again for Linda, but so many more had arrived he had trouble picking her out. Then he noticed one of the recently arrived younger men sitting next to a petite blonde on a love seat. Even from behind, he knew it was Linda. He could tell they were having an animated conversation. He began to walk toward them when he was intercepted by Sally.
“Hey, enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, hi, Sally. Look, I think we’re going to hit the road.”
“Oh, okay, I understand. Where’s Linda?”
“I was just about to ...”
Sally took his arm and scanned the room with him.
“She was there a second ago,” he said.
Sally shrugged. “Maybe she went to the girls’ room. Hey, while you’re waiting, how about a dance?”
“Jill and Alan have one of their rooms set up just like an old disco.”
“Uh, no thanks, Sally, my disco days are way behind me.”
“Don’t be a fuddy-duddie, c’mon. Besides, I hear you have a crush on me.”
She pulled him along, but just before they entered the darkened room with the strobes and a dozen couples dancing in the dark to the BeeGees, Morgan stopped.
“Sorry, Sally. Really, I can’t. I’ll catch up to you and Dave later.”
He abruptly turned away and headed back to the lounge. He looked about for Linda. Where the hell was she?
“Hey, Morgan!” It was Ernie from the bar.
“Hey, Ernie ... I was just looking for ...”
“Told you not to worry; she headed upstairs with Blake.”
“Yeah, you know, that yuppie kid. He likes ‘em mature but he’s really picky. Told you that fox of yours wouldn’t be wanting for attention.”
“What? What the fuck are you saying?”
“Hold on, Morgan, here comes Diane. I figured I’d cut her off at the pass.”
Ernie’s wife passed them towing along two men with each hand and winking at Ernie as she sashayed by. A third man tagged along behind.
“That wink means I’m welcome to watch. Jesus, I’m already hard as granite. See ya later, Morgan.”
Morgan watched Ernie trail behind his wife and her entourage as they climbed the stairs to the next floor.
Morgan’s face burned. He followed taking two steps at a time.
“He has to be mistaken,” Morgan gasped as he reached the top step.
He was blocked by Jill.
“Whoa! Slow down, cowboy, only pairs and multiples allowed up here.”
“Um ... I was just going to watch.”
“Oh, okay, fine. I knew you kids would figure out your kink. Have fun.”
“Did you happen to notice which room ...?”
“Oh, I’m not sure. Down toward the end of the hallway probably. If you have to peek in, it’s okay. It’s always kind of a thrill to be caught.” She gave him another of her lurid winks.
Morgan turned just in time to see Ernie disappear into one room. The sound of sex and laughter issued from two others. From another came a series of shrieks and slaps.
“This is nuts,” he whispered to himself. “She’s not here, she’s ...”
And then, from another room, he heard that special giggle, the one that told him Linda was on the verge of a shuddering, eye-rolling orgasm. His heart fell into his stomach.
“No-no-no-no ... ohhh! Oh, god not there ... yes, yes, again yes, please, please ...”
There was no mistaking Linda’s voice.
Morgan’s legs turned to gelatin; there was a loud rush in his skull like a freight train passing. The hallway had become distorted, it’s angles twisted. He tried to take a step toward the door, but a voice above the din warned him: Don’t look, don’t look!
He turned back toward the stairs and nearly stumbled. His legs moved like they were encased in wet cement; his heart was pounding as if to knock its way out of his chest.
He barely made it down the stairs grasping the banister.
Sally met him at the bottom.
“Morgan? Are you all right?”
He pushed past her and sought out the nearest door to the outside. Air, he needed air before he suffocated. He burst through the door and found himself in a dark garden.
He sucked in great lungfuls of air.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
Damn, he didn’t need company just then. Morgan spotted the glow from the tip of a cigarette in the dark. It came closer revealing the face of the smoker. The man was about forty, bald with glasses.
“Yeah,” Morgan forced himself to say.
The man was beside him now. “You don’t look so good. Here.”
The man handed him a handkerchief. Morgan took it and wiped his face almost soaking it.
“You’re not having a heart attack, are you?”
“Huh? No, really, I’m okay. I just ...”
“Saw something or heard something that kicked your guts out?”
Morgan looked into the man’s face. The man nodded.
“That’s why I’m out here,” he said. “So I won’t see or hear my wife ...”
Morgan shook his head. “What? Then why ...?”
“Cigarette?” he said and offered him his pack.
“No, I don’t smoke.”
“Name’s Tom.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea. We’d been married six years, had a kid. I was talking about having another, and she tells me how she felt like she hadn’t really lived, you know?”
“We started coming here about a year ago. First time she ... went off with someone upstairs, I thought I’d die right on the spot.”
“Jesus ... then why do you keep coming?”
He shrugged. “I love her too much. I don’t want to lose her and I can’t leave her.”
He raised the cigarette. “I quit smoking when our son was born. Now, I’m smoking like a chimney again; probably got cancer already.”
“She said,” Morgan began, “... she said she was just curious, wanted to see what went on.”
“Yeah, that’s what Tina said too ... my wife ... the first time.”
“Shit,” Morgan sighed.
“Yeah,” Morgan nodded again and hung his head. He took a deep breath as if to fill himself out again.
“You just put up with it?” Morgan asked.
“Yeah,” he shrugged.
“I never should have agreed to this. I just never thought ...”
“But, you needed to know. Just like I needed to know. I felt things were off between me and Tina, but I just had to know. So now I hang out here while she’s inside ... getting screwed brainless.”
“To hell with that. Thanks for the use of ...”
Morgan went back inside, but he didn’t know what to do. Should he leave, or wait for her?
“Morgan?” It was Sally.
“Sally, I have to get out of here.”
“Are you okay? Oh, Morgan, I never would have ...”
“Give her a ride home for me, will you?”
He left without bothering to retrieve his coat.
* * *
He was sitting in the dark on the backyard deck when Linda came home. Even though their voices were muffled by distance he could detect the urgent tone of the exchange between Sally and Linda as they dropped her off.
He sighed. They were probably afraid he would go off the deep end, hit her, or worse. But even he was surprised at how he felt. It wasn’t anger, not even low-smoldering anger. What he felt at that moment was hollow, as if a huge part of him had been scraped out leaving just a shell behind.
“Morgan?” she called. “Honey ... are you here?”
He didn’t answer. The kitchen lights came on casting shadows onto the deck. He sensed her standing behind him.
“I’m ... so sorry.”
He didn’t answer.
She stepped out onto the deck and sat beside him. He continued to look into the dark.
“I never would have ...”
“If I thought it would hurt you so much ...”
“What did you think was going to happen? Some guy there, he told me how he gets off watching his wife fuck two or three other guys at a clip. Maybe you thought I would too, huh? But then, you didn’t invite me, did you?”
“I wasn’t thinking ... I ...”
“It was all supposed to be a big hoot, wasn’t that what we said? See what goes on, just watch? Did I give you any reason to believe I was interested in getting laid? Or did you just presume I’d get caught up in all that bullshit and fuck one of those pathetic bimbos.”
“Oh, Morg, I don’t know what I was thinking ... I ...”
“Please! Before you say another fucking word, for crissakes don’t tell me ‘I don’t know what came over me’, okay? This whole night has been one long tawdry cliché. Right now, I don’t even know who the fuck you are. Nearly thirty years and three kids later and I’m living with a total stranger.”
He heard her snuffle, but he refused to look at her.
“Okay ... what happened ... what happened was ... he seduced me. That’s it, honey. He seduced me. It’s been so long since I’d been seduced, the feelings, the sense of being so desired ... Yes, it overwhelmed me, and I’m so sorry ... I’m sorry I hurt you. And, yes, I was hoping so much that you had found someone too so that it wouldn’t be so bad ...”
“Yeah, sure, that would have made it all okay. That would have canceled it all out. Sorry I didn’t conform to your expectations.”
“Morgan, you have to know it’ll never happen again.”
“I don’t know anything, Linda. Everything I thought I knew ... I knew nothing.”
“Please, Morgan, come to bed. I’ll make it up to you, I’ll ...”
“Ho, boy! Sloppy seconds, can’t wait.”
“Oh, Morgan ...”
“You don’t! You ... just don’t ... make it up. Please, just leave me alone. I need to be alone.”
“I’m so sorry ... Morgan?”
“Just go to bed, Linda.”
* * *
He found himself dozing on the deck just as the sky began to lighten. He roused himself and went inside where he unfolded the pull-out couch. It hadn’t been used since the girls were youngsters, having their friends for sleepovers. It creaked.
The phone drew him from his sleep. It was answered with a whisper on the second ring.
He heard Linda in the kitchen, speaking in a low voice.
“No ... he slept on the pull-out ... Aw, geeze, I don’t know, Sally, I wish to hell I’d never ... no-no-no, it wasn’t your fault, it’s just something that happened ... I don’t know what to do ... maybe ... we’ll see how next weekend goes ... no, I’m not going to push it ... no, no, don’t come over. I appreciate it, but I think right now it just may make things worse ... no, I’m okay ... it’s just ... oh, Sally, I feel so awful ...”
Morgan revved up his brain. What was supposed to happen next weekend? Then he remembered. They were all supposed to travel to the kids’ school in upstate New York. Their youngest daughter, Claire, and Sally and Dave’s girl, Jenny, had been best friends since kindergarten; they’d gotten identical track scholarships to the same school; they’d likely end up being maid of honor at each other’s wedding.
The girls had asked them to come up for an awards banquet. They had booked a suite with adjoining rooms months ago. Something would have to come to a head, some decisions made by then, Morgan thought.
He slept on the couch for the rest of the week and avoided Linda when he could. He could sense her remorse beginning to turn into sullenness, but he didn’t care. All bets were off; he was as adrift now as she was and he had to find his way first before he could even begin to work out things with her. He knew he still loved her, fiercely even, but he had no faith in that even counting for much.
They agreed to travel in one car, Dave’s van. It was roomier. The trip was almost four-and-a-half hours and for most of the way it was silent.
That changed when they met the kids. Then for the sake of appearances they were mom and dad, rock-solid, immutably stable.
After the couples had left their daughters off at their dorm they walked back to their hotel, across from the campus. But Morgan held back.
Finally Dave turned around and asked. “You coming, Morg?”
“I think I’m going to walk awhile ... by myself.”
He left them with Linda and began a stroll around the campus, marveling at how things had changed since he and Linda went to school. The girls showed so much bare skin: bellies, backs, legs, and more of a peek at breasts and behind than would ever be countenanced in his day.
He returned to the hotel, but hesitated to go to their room. It had a big bed, room enough for them to sleep comfortably and never touch, but it was the same bed just the same.
He decided to kill some time in the small lounge off the lobby. As his eyes adjusted to the muted light he saw her sitting at the bar. She had changed into a pale blue dress that emphasized her figure and revealed plenty of leg. A man had just sat next to her and begun talking. He could see the man signal the bartender, but then Linda indicated she was turning down his offer for a drink. The man took his glass from the bartender and retreated.
He thought of turning around, but decided he would join her.
“Hi,” he said, as he settled onto the stool beside her. “Can I buy you a drink? I noticed you’re fussy about who flirts with you.”
She looked at him, bemused, hesitant.
“Oh,” he said, pointing at her left hand. “Married, huh? Is that who you’re waiting for?”
Her lips curved slightly. “No, I just forgot to take this off,” she said, and after some effort slipped her wedding band off her finger and dropped it into her purse.
“Oh, I see. Kitty’s on the prowl, is she?”
“If it bothers you, go buy someone else a drink.”
“It doesn’t,” he said, and wiggled his ring finger.
“Screwing around?” she said and took her glass from the bartender who appraised her cleavage.
“Why not? I figure she is too.”
“Doesn’t sound like your marriage is all that solid.”
He laughed. “I suppose you could say that. How about you? Does your husband know you’re catting around? Is he one of those types that get off knowing their sweet little bride is getting her brains fucked out by someone else?”
Her face darkened. “He’s not like that at all.”
“So, he doesn’t know.”
She shrugged, and in a low tone said, “Maybe he does.”
He looked her up and then down, making note of her skirt high on her thigh, her legs crossed and a shoe dangling off one foot.
“I’m surprised he lets a morsel like you out of his sight.”
“Well ... maybe he wants me to be happy.”
“Happy? He laughed again. “How so?”
“Maybe, he understands that I want ... have desires ...”
“That he can’t satisfy?”
“I suppose that sounds selfish,” she said. “It’s just, I never knew I missed them ... until ...”
“Yeah, well maybe he knew before you did; maybe that’s what’s killing him.”
“How ... how would you know ...?”
He shrugged and laughed. “Right, how the hell would I know? Look, sweetie, I want to see what you look like out of that dress. And then I want to fuck you onto life support.”
The bartender dropped a glass. The shards seemed to tinkle forever.
“Okay ... you better be as good as you let on.”
He tossed some bills on the bar and helped her off her stool, then guided her to the elevator bank.
They got off on their floor and he followed her to the room.
Inside she stepped over to the bed, kicked off her heels and shook out her hair. She reached behind for her zipper, but he was already there, his hands tugging it down, then peeling off her dress.
He yanked the clasp on her bra apart then grabbed the waistband of her panties.
“Let’s get rid of this too,” he growled. She heard and felt the fabric shred, then he spun her around and pushed her back onto the bed.
Her eyes were wide, her mouth an O.
“Lady, I’m not here to make love to you; I’m here to fuck you.”
“Go ahead, then. What’s stopping you?”
“Nothing, baby. I just do things in my own time. If that gets on your nerves, that’s just tough shit.”
He clasped his hands above her knees and forcefully separated her thighs, then he nipped at them, taking quick and mildly painful bites of flesh.
He began to alternate his nips and nibbles with licks. She lay back and moaned, raised her arms and ran her hands through her hair.
“Jesus, c’mon!” she pleaded.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!”
His tongue was just teasing her pussy, like a cobra’s flicking at her folds. She began to flutter her thighs, her tongue slid over her lips and she clasped her hands over her eyes.
“Please?” she pleaded.
He took a long languid slurp of her slit and swirled his tongue around her clit. Her ass came off the bed and slammed back down.
“Okay, okay, you can fuck me now.”
“When I feel like it,” he said, and sealed his lips, coated with her pussy juice, to hers. Her tongue invaded his mouth.
“Jesus! What a fucking horn-cat you are.” He laughed.
“Then fuck me!”
“In good time, lady; just understand, I don’t care if you like it much less come, I’m using you like a slut, for my own damned self.”
“Okay ... okay! Jesus, please fuck me now ... c’mon!”
His cock penetrated her cunt like a bayonet through butter. He began to pound her pelvis, each thrust touching deeper beneath her belly.
“Oh god ... oh god ... oh my!” A giggle erupted into a groan. Her body thrashed beneath him.
His fluids roared out of him, spasm after spasm. Then the tension drained from him like the perspiration that beaded upon his skin and trickled onto her.
He rolled off her and forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed. She continued to lie there, one arm across her eyes.
“Oh, my god. I haven’t been fucked so good since ... since ...”
“Yeah,” he said. “You were good. Here, this is for you. Thanks.”
He pressed something into her hand.
She drew her arm away and watched him gather his clothes and begin to dress.
“What? Where are you going?”
“What did you expect,” he said without turning to look at her. “A cuddle?”
He stood and started for the door. “You’re a hot one, baby. No wonder your husband doesn’t care if you fuck around. So long as he’s getting his.”
He stepped through the door and was gone.
* * *
Linda sat up and turned on the lamp on the end table.
She opened her hand and looked at the hundred-dollar bill she held. Her lips curled into a smile, and then a grin.
“So, that’s what he wants me to be?” she said to herself. “Okay, I’ll be the filthiest whore in history, just for him.”
But then her smile faded. She stared at the door Morgan had walked through just minutes before. An irresistible angst wrapped her like a wet sheet.
“He’s coming back,” she whispered. “Isn’t he?”
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Copyright © 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
By Nan Andrews
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