“Christ no! You're talking nonsense. I love you.”
“I love you too but don't fib to mama. I saw the way you were eyeing
that chick in the blue dress at the Meadow's cocktail party.”
“Aw, that's different.”
“Is it? I was alone for awhile in the kitchen with Tom Meadows. He
kissed me and I let him feel me up. I wanted him, Arny. That
doesn't mean I don't love you, or that I'd leave you for him, even if
he wasn't already married. Don't tell me you wouldn't have kissed that
doll in the blue dress if you'd had the same chance I had with Tom.”
We fought about it half the night. We spent the other half making
madly passionate love, so it was a good thing the next day was Saturday
and I didn't have to go to work. I sulked around the house, drinking a
lot and feeling miserable but there was a funny, strange, little
something nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn't identify it and it
wouldn't go away but, whatever it was, it was keeping me in a constant
state of sexual excitement.
Paula finally took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. “Come
on,” she said as she began stripping, “and show mama you still love
I did. I fucked her so long and so hard that I exhausted her and then
I got down between her legs and sucked her until she'd had so many
orgasms she was as limp as a wet noodle.
She lay there, her eyes sleepy and a little smile on her face. The
afternoon sun slanted through the Venetian blinds to cast golden bars
across her body. It was like watching a movie I'd seen years earlier. I
was back in the storage room of our garage with a girl named Cherry. My
buddy, Ed, was lying on the other side of her, smoking a cigarette.
And, suddenly, I knew what the thing was that had been bothering me all
day. I'd been subconsciously visualizing Paula being made love to by
Tom Meadows and it had been turning me on like crazy.
Crazy is right, I thought. Christ! I didn't want her to be touched by
any other man! Or did I? I thought of Tom kissing her and putting his
hands under her skirt to feel her wet, gasping pussy and thrusting a
finger into it while she clung to him, rubbing her breasts on his chest
and sucking his tongue. I thought of what he had already done with her,
and of all the things there remained for him to do, and a wave of
affection for him swept over me. After all the screwing we'd just done,
I again had a hell of a hard-on.
“You still want Tom Meadows to lay you?” I asked her. I was hearing
my own voice say those words. It sounded hoarse and far away and I
didn't believe it.
“Yes, but only if you'll say it's okay. I could never do anything
behind your back, Darling.”
“All right,” I said, wondering if that was really me saying that.
She drew my head down and kissed me, her eyes shining, then she
turned on the bed and took my cock in her mouth, sucking gently while
she massaged it with her tongue and her fingers softly stroked my bag,
delicately toying with my balls. When I came, it was a slow explosion
that disintegrated me, blowing me apart and then letting the pieces
flow together and run into her mouth in soul-shaking jets. I watched
her throat move as she swallowed repeatedly.
Nothing more was said about Tom until the following morning and I was
in an agony of suspense, afraid she'd changed her mind and wasn't going
to go through with it, but I was afraid to bring it up. She got on the
phone and stayed there for an hour but that wasn't unusual. Like most
women, she loved that damned phone.
I was opening a beer in the kitchen when she came in, an impish look
on her face that told me she'd been up to something. “You better shave
and change your clothes,” she told me. “You're going to have company.”
“Company? Me? Who?”
“Remember the cutie in the blue dress? She happens to be Tom Meadows'
wife's sister. He's bringing her over here. She'll spend the day with
you while Tom and I go to a motel down the coast. Tom could have
brought either his wife or his sister-in-law for you but I picked the
one you said you liked. You're not going to chicken-out on me now, are