Jealousy

by Laran Mithras

  "What? It's all in the past, anyway. I'm your wife and I love being your wife. Except when you get all jealous…"

  "What is in your past?"

  "Nothing. Now are we going, or not? Because if you aren't, I am. I want to swim and our hot tub is too small for swimming." She stomped to the door.

  I sighed and followed her, irritated that she refused to answer questions that I needed to know. What was in her past? What had she done that made her think she was a perverted slut? I definitely needed to know those things. What right did she have to withhold that vital information from her husband?

  CHAPTER 4

  The Faulkners had bought a motorhome to travel America. They rented out their house to college students, not caring ever to return. Damage? Have it repaired by the management company. Terry and Ruth Faulkner were seeing the country.

  The spacious house had a pool and several rooms added on when Terry had been a more hands-on do-it-yourselfer. It was too nice for college kids and they knew it; they just didn't care. The income paid the property taxes and upkeep and the extra rooms provided a healthy income to them as they traveled.

  Music blared inside as we entered. Whatever insulation Terry had used kept a lot of the noise inside.

  Tessa separated from me almost instantly.

  Shouldn't you stay by my side?

  She attached herself to a gal I had seen before and knew to be one of her friends: Allison. Instantly, they were arm in arm, faces alight with the excitement of friendship, and mouths moving across animated expressions.

  I felt as if I might be intruding if I merged into their duo. Ah, well, let girls be girls. And yet, I had no immediate friends with which to create my own bubble of identity. It was as if the blaring semi-rap music by a female singer who was heavy on her consonants in a pedantic way pushed at my area of acceptance until there was only me floating in a void of experience.

  I was there alone, but not really there – despite all the other people. It was like a VR scene.

  I moved to the sliding glass door. The handle of it held back the heavy curtains, fraying the nutmeg-colored fabric where it hooked behind the aluminum handle. The kids were too lazy to draw the curtain strings, or had broken them.

  The latter likely.

  A smattering of half-naked young people in various states of undress and swimwear chatted and swam in back. The gals were decidedly plump despite their youth with muffin-tops and bulges previously reserved for middle age in times past.

  I had seen my mother's pictures from the eighties – health and fitness had blossomed on the pictures of young people. Not anymore. Unless gals went for yoga or running, such as my Tessa…

  "Excuse us…" Two girls slid by me out the door.

  I barely heard them over the music and kids trying to talk over the music. It was at that instant that the noise crushed in on me, hurting my ears. I frowned, turning towards them, but they were already past me. However, my gaze was caught by Tessa.

  She was sitting on the lap of some smiling guy. Her dress – already very short – was exposing her bikini bottoms.

  Every nerve in my body tightened to the point of taut vibration and wrath. My shoulders quivered with it. Even before I could take one step towards her, I saw why she was on his lap: her friend was taking a picture of them together with her phone.

  A… smidge… of anger left me, but why have a picture of my wife on this guy's lap at all? I moved towards them just as another laughing guy nudged my wife and handed her a red solo cup.

  Her eyes flashed appreciation and she raised it to her lips.

  I was there – I don't know how through three intervening people – and grabbed it out of her grip with a snatch. I hauled on her with my other hand, removing her from the dude's lap.

  Noise rushed in all at the same time.

  Her friend said, "Whoa 'kay…"

  The dude said, "Hey…"

  My wife squawked with irate protest.

  The guy who had handed her the cup said, "Hey, that's hers."

  I gave my wife a look and motioned with the cup.

  Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a slightly astonished expression. "Ohh… right…"

  I turned on cup-guy and shoved him back against the wall. The music didn't stop, but suddenly people stopped talking around us. It was almost as deafening as the music. My hand cupped close at his neck and I grated, "What's in this, huh?"

  "Just beer, dude. Fuck off." His head jerked with umbrage. He tried to dislodge my hand with a weakly ineffectual swipe.

  I clamped my hand tighter around his throat. "Why don't you take a good drink of it first?"

  People were starting to call out. "Hey!" "Dude!" "Hey, back off, man!"

  Cup-guy's eyes went wide and he said, "It was for her, man—"

  I brought the cup close. "Drink some yourself."

  He knocked the cup from my hand, desperately, eyes wild with alarm. The beer and whatever else was in it went splashing over a wire DVD rack and the wall behind it.

  I brought my knee up, hard, into the guy's groin. He went down as hands grabbed me and pulled me away.

  I was shouting, "Didn't want your own beer, huh? You think you can slip my wife a roofie? Huh?" I struggled against the multitude of hands. "Let me go!"

  Voices, everywhere. "Dude!" "Hey, man, that wasn't cool." "Oh my god, a roofie?" "I think he's a racist." "It was just beer, what a waste." "Let him go, man, he was just protecting his girl." "It's a good thing he didn't try that shit with me, I would've pounded his ass." "It's cool, dude, it's cool."

  Eventually, the hands on me relaxed and were removed.

  Cup-guy had a couple of caring and concerned guys around him helping him up.

  My wife grabbed hold of my arm in search of security. She said, "God, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

  "Tess, you can never accept a drink—"

  "I know, I know, it just slipped my mind… I'm sorry."

  "Who's the guy you were getting a pic with?"

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Oh, him? That's Garren, Allison's boyfriend. She wanted a picture of us."

  I relaxed. A little. Maybe… a smidge. "Did you have to sit on his lap?"

  She shrugged slowly with exaggeration. "It seemed like the thing to do."

  "What?" I could barely hear her delicate voice over the crowd and music.

  She placed her lips near my ear, repeating again. "It seemed like the thing to do. It was just a picture."

  But your… I ground my teeth together. Her bikini had been exposed. If this hadn't have been a swim party, she would be going commando, like me. People might have seen her pussy. Probably. And then everyone would've thought what a lucky guy Garren was.

  Not me.

  No, of course not; I was just some old guy not hip enough to have a beautiful girl on my arm.

  I fumed for several minutes, during which Tessa began talking to Allison and her boyfriend again. The music was turned off. A USB chip was inserted and after a touch or two, dance music began. The thump was at least a lot more agreeable than really bad rap, so I calmed quite a bit.

  Tessa danced with Allison and so did a few other girls dance with each other. The guys circled like hawks, trying not to look intent, but rather disinterested.

  They weren't of course. Every guy in the house knew all about the cool act. Even before the second song began, guys were asking girls to dance like, "Oh well, there's nothing better to do and I guess you'd be okay to dance with." Their faces lost the indifference and took on serious expressions of, "Yeah, I'm badass."

  Some of the girls twerked.

  I thought it was disgusting.

  Tessa had the decency to dance with Garren, and then some other guy without acting like a slut. But I watched her.

  It was the guy who came on strong, wrapping her with his arms and pulling her close. They ground together, gyrating in a way that made my blood boil. I moved through the dancers, dodging and ducking swaying arms in the air as I approached my w
ife and the guy. I grabbed her arm just as the song ended and a new one began.

  She spun to me, breathless and happy. "Oh, you want to dance? I thought you didn't—"

  "No, I don't." I could dance if someone popped off a whole clip at my feet.

  She let me pull her away. "That was embarrassing."

  "What?" I turned to her at the edge of the cleared dance area – near the wall.

  "I said, that was embarrassing."

  "No, I heard that part. What was embarrassing?"

  Her expression was amazed and scandalized. "That guy I danced with had a massive erection when he pressed against me."

  I growled, but it was lost in the noise.

  She wasn't looking at me, but at the crowd. She did little dance bounces as if wanting to get back in the ring.

  I asked, "You felt it?"

  She nodded. Then a tide of color rose up her neck and face. "He sort of ground it all over my bikini bottoms. The dress got pushed up."

  I barely constrained the anger in my voice. "Well, don't dance with him again."

  She made a wry face at me. "I wasn't intending to." Her eyes fixed on something, or someone, and her expression changed. Maybe clouded a little.

  I followed her gaze and recognized the guy she was looking at: it was the jogger from yesterday.

  She said, barely audible, "Oh gosh…"

  "What?"

  Allison pulled her away for some kind of girl-gaggle to which I was obviously not included.

  I sighed and turned to go outside. I found all the chairs and lounges that weren't broken being held by personal items: a towel here and there; purses; carry bags; ice chests.

  Can't they use the ground? Fuck. I fumed, arms crossed, up against the stucco wall by the sliding glass door.

  Tessa came out a few minutes later and didn't look to the side to see me. She picked a lounge and unceremoniously dumped the ice chest onto the cement. It bounced and rocked, but stayed upright.

  I snickered to myself. A girl can get away with that, but a guy? Suddenly it's murder time.

  She slipped off her flimsy dress down to her bikini. She sat and saw me. Her wave was instant and her smile just as fast, but then she looked into the pool and frowned. I judged it the same as she did: too crowded. She sat, knees together and hands clasped as she waited for the pool to empty a little.

  That was when I was joined by some twerp who thought he knew everything. "Hey."

  I nodded at him.

  The jogger guy came out and looked around. Garth?

  Twerp held out his hand. "Jadin."

  I shook reluctantly, not really wanting to talk to him. "Clark."

  His smile was mocking and sudden. "Clark? Like Clark Kent?"

  I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, something like that."

  His expression changed in disappointment.

  If you thought you were going to impress me with your stupid wit… I frowned at him.

  He looked away and sighed as if relaxing on a beach. He changed the subject, trying to regain his magnanimous manhood. Or what he thought was his manhood. He said leisurely, "You know the trick to picking up girls?"

  "Huh?"

  He glommed onto my query as if I had pleaded with him to share wisdom. "Chicks are easy. Most guys don't know the difference between an available chick, a bull-dyke, an ice queen, an ace—"

  "Ace?"

  His head jerked with knowledge. "Yeah, you know, LGBTIA?"

  "A?"

  "As in asexual. Ace."

  "Oh."

  "Anyway, the easy way to tell which pussy is available for some meat thunder."

  I glared at his usage of slang. Why don't you just say fuck?

  He tilted his head over as if imparting valuable wisdom to me. "Take that bitch over there." He pointed at my wife.

  I drew breath to blow this teen turd into the pool.

  He said, "Notice how her legs are open when talking to a guy? It's subconscious. A girl opens her legs to good looking guys she's willing to fuck."

  I stared incredulously with all the anger of outrage at… who? Tessa sat there, legs no longer closed, but open as she talked to Garth. I didn't know if this Jadin was right or not, but something else to me was very obvious: though she acted disinterested in him, her nipples were extremely obvious at this distance – hard and pointing. When jogger guy adjusted his package right in front of my wife, her eyes dropped down to the motion and her legs twitched open maybe an inch wider.

  Jadin caught it, nudging me. "Look at her eyes, dude. I bet she wants to give him neck."

  "What?"

  "You know, slob the nob? Give his pole a mouth hug?"

  I coughed in annoyance, not sure whether I wanted to strangle the idiot kid or extricate my wife.

  As it was, I saw her get up and shoulder past Garth as if escaping. She stepped into the pool without hesitation, surging out and away from the steps.

  Maybe she had gotten up without me having to correct her, but I couldn't dismiss her extremely hard nipples. She only got that way when turned on. And her legs? Was there anything to it? They had been closed before Garth had talked to her. Why did they open? Was Jadin right? Had Tessa subconsciously reacted to him by opening her legs? Offering her pussy to a man she thought attractive?

  The searing burn of anger rose in me, but it was about to get a lot hotter.

  CHAPTER 5

  Garth chased her slowly around the pool. She kept looking at me with quick little shamed looks – as if checking to see if I was watching.

  I was.

  She tried to avoid the guy, but he kept swimming after her and talking. Finally, she backed up against the edge of the pool and watched me over his shoulder while he talked to her.

  I seethed silently, wondering if Garth would understand my fist as a threat.

  At least, Tessa didn't seem to want to talk to him.

  Except the jogger was handsome, fit, and had displayed his tented shorts hiding his erection to her yesterday without the slightest slice of modesty. She had said he came on too strong.

  A new annoyance intervened.

  Her eyes slid past Garth, but not to me.

  I followed them to a young guy with a total swimmer's body. For a moment, I was about to push off the wall and go smack my hand down on the guy's shoulder: he looked like my friend Bernard, but everyone called Bend at his insistence. He hated Bernard.

  Except, this guy wasn't him. Too tall, hair closer to his head, too toned, too smiley, too confident – all qualities Bend lacked. Not that my friend was ugly or deficient, just not running around looking like this Adonis.

  I looked back to Tessa. She was still looking at the guy and admiring his butt by the way it looked from my spot against the house. She lifted her arms behind her and pushed on the edge of the pool. Lifting herself up from the deep end, she made her escape from too-close Garth. That put her in the awkward position of lifting her body right in front of him, exposing her bikini bottoms as she came up out of the water. Her camel toe was perfectly, wetly displayed – right in his face.

  Garth surged towards her, but she was faster – up and out of the water. Her eyes found mine and she moved with that youthful, tight jiggle over to me as her skin pebbled with goose bumps.

  I stood there, fists twitching as she got close. "I wish he'd leave me alone." She looked back, but I noticed not at Garth – at the other guy.

  She was checking him out again!

  I tried to sound helpful, but I was conflicted over her apparent rejection and being pleased about it, with her obvious attraction to the other guy and feeling angry about it. "Do you want me to talk to Garth?" My fingers clenched into fists and my knuckles cracked.

  I was no weakling and I had a fast, hard punch.

  "What? No." She looked down at our feet. "I just… wish he'd talk to someone else. I don't really like him."

  I looked at her nipples, still very prominently displayed under the fabric of her skimpy bikini top. I lifted a hand that was trembling with
barely suppressed anger. I brushed a thumb across one nipple. "These are telling me a totally different story."

  She flinched at the abrupt contact, and then huddled closer to me and hugged her arms to herself. She glanced at the other guy who somewhat resembled Bend, but she said of Garth, "He says things… Suggestive things. Like how my skin looks delicious."

  Garth had gone too far and my jaw began aching with pain. I saw the jogger looking over at us and I glared the ugliest challenge I could. Under the ripples of the water, his trunks were tented out.

  Had my wife seen that? He had been close to her. Had she looked down at it? Blood pulsed in my veins hotly, surging to my extremities with powerful pumps. My fists ached to smash Garth's face.

  I moved away from Tessa.

  She pleaded, "No, Clark. Just forget about it…"

  I could barely hear her from the roaring in my ears. Proudly, my manhood had swollen due to the ravenous pumping of my heart. Standing at the edge of the pool near Garth, I made sure he could see I was packing some man-heat. I leveled a finger down at him and said pointedly, "You're bothering my wife. Approach her again and I'll turn your face into ground beef. Am I speaking enough English for you?"

  He put on feigned outrage. "I was just talking to her, dude."

  I flexed my cock in my jeans so he'd understand that I was more man than he was. "I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. You're done talking to her."

  He didn't look down at my package, but that was fine, too. I just wanted him to get the message. He made a dismissive noise and lowered his eyes.

  Victory.

  He turned away with an indifferent shrug. "Yeah, whatever."

  I hid a tight smile and looked for Tessa. She was sitting back on the lounge. Her knees were tightly together, as usual, but she turned towards the swimmer guy while drying her hair. Her knees parted, opening wide.

  She had done the same to Garth. Attracted to both? If that idiot Jadin was right, her subconscious found both men attractive – which they were – while her conscious mind thought Garth was too forward.

  Was she harboring something she'd never discussed with me? It was almost as if she were still judging men as to whether or not they would be good boyfriends.