I dropped Liz at the airport, anticipating a dull week sandwiched by two dull weekends while she partied with Angela, an old girlfriend of ours. The surprise of a call from Brian perked me up.
"You have plans for tonight?" he asked without any warm-up.
"No. I just dropped Liz off and I'm baching it. I could use some company."
"Meet us for dinner."
He named another trendy place, this one fusion style where they throw together whatever they find in the kitchen and let you decide if it tastes good. The place prospers. People pay plenty for what the local critic raves about.
I made a quick trip to the gym to get a pump on my upper torso. I grabbed a pair of khaki slacks and a coarsely woven, fatigue-green polo shirt that hung on my frame, flattering my chest and shoulders. I knew she'd respond to the look. The contrast of military green with graying temples mixed vigor with intellect. Not a gorilla, but substantial.
I found them seated before a wall of windows opening onto rolling golden hills dotted with clusters of Scrub Oak, the giant red disk of the sun hanging in the background. Mona was out for blood.
Her black hair glowed in a faint vermillion aura backlit by the scatter of the dying sun, setting apart alabaster skin like a cameo. Steely blue eyes pierced with arrows from some demonic angel weighing me body and soul, their bronzed lids beneath dark dagger brows accentuating high cheekbones. She wore gloss the hue of dried blood on the thin, straight lips of her resolute mouth.
Rising as I approached, she watched my every step. She knew better than to dress like a teenager. She knew what worked.
She stood erect in a black, knee-length wrap-skirt, her hips a subtle curve. Black stiletto heels emphasized gentle swell of tanned, muscular calves. Braless beneath a white silk blouse buttoned only enough to expose a hint of cleavage, her breasts pointed at me like nippled pears. Long-waisted with a lithe frame, she embellished her charms with a precision that left everything and nothing to the imagination.
I stopped and openly appraised her.
She smiled and returned the long look, fixing my eyes with a glare I didn't understand. I forgot about Brian until he poked his hand in front of me. I shook it. He looked like he was working at bucking up.
Dinner passed without much back and forth. She asked about my work and I rattled on about some papers I'd written, how they helped me win defense contracts. I made my way through a piece of elk smothered in cherries and mushrooms with a thick brown reduction that disguised the flavor well enough it could have been cat. We drank three bottles of red wine. Brian picked up the tab.
Near the end they talked about going to a strip joint they liked, some upscale dive across town. I didn't tell them I hadn't been to one since my military days. The thought of watching women take off their clothes without participating didn't interest me. But she wanted to go and I wanted follow her.
We left my car at the house. Brian drove a fancy new BMW, fast but with courtesy.
"Nice car," I said, crammed into the back.
"It's important for my work. I take out clients."
"I'm stuck with a minivan," Mona said, leaning toward me between the front seats. I could see the crest of her breasts where the blouse fell away just a little. Her nipples stood out like two dark blemishes in the silk.
"I can't trust her with this car. She's too aggressive. She drives fast and she tailgates."
She flashed me a wicked smile and leaned forward, exposing more tit.
The club extorted an outrageous cover from Brian and me at the door, letting Mona in for free. A barn of a place with a stage surrounded by tiny round tables and plush, leather rolling chairs, gloom, smoke, and a booming bass beat passed for atmosphere.
We took a table near the stage. I noted one other couple and a pair of women. Men made up the bulk of the crowd.
A waitress hustled to the table and Brian asked for Laphroig straight up, water back. I had the same. Mona had a glass of red wine. Before the drinks arrived she disappeared.
Brian yelled over the din that he brought his engineering team here to celebrate major successes. I thought how that would play in my business with Bible-thumping Air Force officers in tow. I could see the straight-laced prigs praying before lifting their drinks. These new guys weren't the military I'd served with thirty years ago.
Mona returned with a busty blonde. She tucked a bill into the dancer's G-string, lingering at the naked thigh, tracing lazy swirls along the mons. She sat for a personal dance, studying the twitching groin in her face as if conducting a medical exam. Afterward she pointed to the girl and then to me, asking if I wanted a lap dance.
I leaned close enough to catch a whiff of musk and enunciated into her ear, "Only if it's from you." She rewarded me with a weak smile. I moved my lips to her ear again and said, "There are no women in this place as sexy as you." The tepid smile straightened into a thin line. She probed me with cold blue eyes.
We spent at least a couple hours in the place. Mona ignored us, watching the stage and interacting with the train of topless women selling lap dances or drinks like Sex on the Beach from tubes arrayed on what looked like cartridge belts. She sat through a lap dance from another busty blonde. Brian bought a lap dance from a skinny brunette with silicon boobs so massive they drooped like water balloons, stretching her chest into a web of angry stretch marks. Captivated by the twin flesh sacks whirling in his face, he appeared on the point of rapture.
I passed on the whole deal, sipping my Laphroig and tuning out as best I could. The noise level precluded conversation.
We left when Mona decided she'd had enough. In the parking lot she complained it was too loud to talk in the club. She suggested going to my place. Brian agreed, mumbling something about being up for scotch, but I think it was a done deal no matter what he wanted.
At the house, she asked for red wine, preferably a cab, so I opened a bottle of Meerlust Rubicon.
"Look at this," she said to Brian, holding up the bottle. "Mere lust."
I read his expression and broke in.
"Well, this is a damned good South African cab. Meerlust is a great vineyard. Right now it's cheap because they just ended the import restrictions, so I got a case. It's worth buying before it goes up."
She tasted. "It's very good. We should get some, Brian."
He didn't answer. They didn't ask where I'd bought it.
I set out water and a bottle each of Lagavulin and Laphroig, pouring them side by side. "These are both Islays," I said. "The distilleries are near each another, but there is a pronounced difference. The Lagavulin is sixteen years old, the Laphroig ten. See what you think."
He swirled and nosed. He mouthed some of the Laphroig, sipped some water, then the Lagavulin.
"They're both good," he pronounced, "but I still like the Laphroig. I'll stick with that."
"It's my choice too," I said.
We surrounded the long dining room table, each defending a separate edge of the polished expanse of red oak shining like veneer in the glare of the overhead light. Brian and I held the long sides, across from one another. Mona stood at the end nearest the master bedroom. Brian peered down into his scotch, holding it in both hands at belt level. He wore an expression of tired resignation, like he had surrendered another piece of his life to some external momentum outside his control. When I turned from Brian to Mona, she set her glass on the table and stared at me.
"I'm glad you guys came back," I said. "I was worried I wouldn't see you again. It's uncommon to find such interesting people in this game. What brought you back?"
Brian turned and walked into the living room.
"I wanted to see you again," Mona said. "To see if I still felt the same."
"Felt how?"
"You surprised me," she said. "I'm bi. But instead of your wife, I was attracted to you."
Brian sat on the sofa, showing us his back.
"Why surprised?" I asked, coming around to her end of the table.
"Because I'm bi and your wife did nothing for me. It was you who turned me on."
"The operative word is bi, isn't it? Does that preclude men?"
She didn't answer. We hovered almost touching. I could feel her nipples reaching out. An erection tugged at my leg. She looked down at the bulge, lingering to watch it creep along aching against my trousers. Then she looked up, her blank features surrendering nothing.
I asked, "Do you still feel the same?"
I wanted to grab her, kiss that inaccessible mouth that looked for all the world to be washed in dried blood. I wished Brian would disappear.
Instead, I said, "I like to watch Liz more with men than with women. But she can really be something with a couple. Very enthusiastic about sucking cock while a woman eats her. We've been to clubs where she drew a crowd with her vocals."
Her blue eyes bored into me.
"We've never been to a club," she said, inching nearer.
"I've seen her with two or three guys, but with couples she's more unhinged. She likes big, soft tits and white skin. Once she gets going she fucks the man. Finishes by using the cock as a dildo. It can be painful. I know. She's rough as hell. I like to watch her get it, but I like to fuck while I'm watching. And listening. She's noisy as hell."
"Maybe someday we'll get up the courage for that." Brian's voice wafted in from the other room. "But I don't know how I'd like it."
He could have been on another planet.
"Let's find out," Mona said, eyes glued to mine. "Do I turn you on?"
My erection throbbed in cramped agony. I wanted to redirect it but dared not disturb the balance of the moment. I could sense she wanted to touch it. Tangible restraint. The moment perspired tangible restraint. I knew Brian must have felt it, with his back to us, still listening from the other room.
"Are you kidding? I've dreamed of fucking you since I laid eyes on you. You are the sexiest woman alive."
She pressed her nipples against my chest. I put my hand on her thigh.
"You want to do it?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "Let's do it together. The three of us. Come on, Brian. Are you ready?"
"I guess," he mumbled, rising to his feet and dragging into the dining room.
I moved away from Mona.
"This your first time together with a man?"
"Yes. You will be my second ever. Brian was the first and only until now."
She reached out for his hand, pulling him to her side. I led us into the bedroom, closing the door to darken it for Brian's sake.
I waited for her to start. She didn't hesitate. She stepped out of her shoes while unbuttoning her blouse, letting it fall to the floor behind her. She let her skirt drop into a heap beside the blouse and bent over, pulled her panties to her ankles, then straightened and stepped out of them.
I jerked my shirt up over my head and dropped it to the floor, keeping one eye on Brian but drawn to Mona. She waited naked, equidistant from us, watching me from the apex of the triangle. The black patch on her mons pubis floated like seaweed on a sliver of reflected moonlight. Brian seemed paralyzed, like a trapped animal about to be shot, still wearing the expression of disbelief I'd glimpsed in the doorway.
Mona glided over and pressed a hand flat against my chest, undoing my belt with the other. I looked to Brian and she stopped, turned and went to him.
"Come on, baby, get out of your clothes. I want to suck your big cock."
She unzipped his pants and slipped her hand inside. He pushed it away. She tugged at his belt, but he shrank back and struggled out of his pants. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He folded everything, setting it on a chair behind him, placing his shoes beneath the chair.
I tried not to look at him. I knew this could be painful. Erectile dysfunction in these circumstances struck plenty of men for the first time. It had never been a problem for me, but my arousal watching Liz get a good going over was aberrant.
Mona sank to her knees, wrapped her arms around his thighs, buried her face in his groin. She gurgled and snorted as if slurping an oyster. Luminous as an ethereal presence, her body reflected the cool light slipping through the blinds, naked and vulnerable for the first time.
She stood up and nudged Brian toward the bed. He lay flat on his back illuminated in stray light, his doughy figure covered with a mat of reddish hair. I could see he sported no erection. I did, my underpants wet with slick, viscous ooze. I slipped them off and my cock pointed at the ceiling, dripping long strands of lubricant onto the carpet.
She turned to me. "Come on. Don't get shy on me now."
She knelt over him and sucked his limp cock, her breasts hanging down and flattened on the sides like squashed pears.
I moved behind her, my hands caressing the taut muscles of her ass and thighs. With two finger I brushed the wet lips of her vagina, feeling for the bump of her clitoris. When I found the hard button she gasped and jerked forward.
I ran my tongue along the folds of her labia and she moved closer. I sucked the lips into my mouth. She made smothered moans and rubbed hard against my face, her luxuriant pubic hair drenched in her secretions and my saliva.
She twisted her head back and whispered hoarsely, "I want you to fuck me."
I grabbed a condom from the dresser where I'd stashed a few and rolled it on. She arched her back, presenting her cunt, and I wormed my cock into the clenched orifice like torquing a grommet through an overhanging stud. She jerked forward and gasped, ignoring Brian. I thrust as far as I could, slamming against her thighs, and savaged her like the female dog in my head.
Brian got off the bed and out of the way.
I visualized my cock distended and throbbing, knotted with blue veins as I rammed her tiny opening, a bat splitting her, leaving her ripped and torn. I forced her flat on her stomach, mashing her face into the pillow with my forearm, my mouth in her ear, biting, whispering stifled sounds welling up from some buried rage, "bitch whore slut dog." She drooling and whimpering a weak "yes" and biting the pillow. I fucked her harder, riding the driving rhythm welling up from my lust, "cunt cocksucker pig bitch slut" in a muted growl only she could hear, "dog you dog you bitch you fucking whore" and she chewing the pillow and whimpering "yes."
I pinned her to the bed, grinding into her smothering muff, slamming against her round, hard buttocks. She bucked and thrashed, elbowing me in the ribs and rolling onto her back, locking her arms around my hips and pulling me inside her dripping maw. Muscular legs gripping my thighs, she humped with her ass up off the bed, locking me in a vice, holding me inside the widening breach. She grabbed my ears and yanked me down, chest to chest, covering my mouth with her mouth and biting my lower lip until it bled, shoving her tongue down my throat. I slid my tongue into her mouth and she sucked so hard it ached at the root. I jerked my head away and she grabbed my neck with both hands and held my mouth to hers. I cupped one hand under her wet ass and propped myself with the other and we fucked like two lost souls alone in the universe.
When I wore out and collapsed on her like a dying soldier she urged me onto my back with jabs from the heel of her hand. She climbed on top, grabbed my dick as if unattached and used it like a club, rubbing herself, twisting it as I fought the urge to holler with pain. Finally, a low moan began in her throat and she impaled herself on the thing, swallowing it up in an emptiness so deep I felt nothing, thrashing so I couldn't hold back.
She stretched on top of me and we lay panting, drenched in sweat. Brian stood above the bed, looking down at us. He touched her back.
She pulled up and my dick appeared naked and glistening in ooze, wearing only the bottom half of the condom.
"The condom broke," I said.
Silence.
"You won't get pregnant from me," I said.
"That's not our worry," he said. "She's fixed."
I hated to say it, but did anyway. "I don't have any diseases."
His silence hung, a palpable presence.
She sat on the end of the bed, legs stretched before her, damp hair dangling limp on the sides and plastered to the top of her head. Her small breasts drooped flat against her chest, nipples shriveled like old prunes. She fished the end of the condom from her vagina.
"It's okay, honey," she said, holding the glistening shred of scum bag up to illumination. "It's all here. None of it leaked." A viscous wad oozed from the sheared-off translucent reservoir.
She grabbed his thigh and pulled him closer. "Let me suck your cock, please? I want you to fuck me."
"I want to go."
He grabbed his clothes and left the room. She got up, gathered her clothes from the floor and followed him.
