Calico & Stone: A Spin-Off from The Pussycat featured in Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Amelia Oliver

  I'd assume most men would want to change a whore, but as long as I keep the whoring to my husband, he fully embraces it, as one would. It just feels like so long since we’ve really been freaky together. I feel like a bitch for even telling him how I've been feeling. Because I know he does everything he can to keep me satisfied, and I am. But, I'm also not. It's not even that I want to be with anyone else or anything, I just miss being bombarded by the filthiness and sexual deviancy of a whore house.

  Lost in my thoughts, I hear the thud of something hitting wood every minute or so and I prepare my vagina mentally for what I know I'll see when I look out one of the bedroom windows. Sure enough, when I look down, Stone’s there by the garage, shirtless and throwing tomahawks at a large cut of wood. His muscles flex and move like a well-oiled machine, calling to the inner instinct for me to mate with the largest and strongest beast to produce the best offspring.

  Kids. We’ve agreed we want to put down roots before that, but welcome it if something like getting pregnant comes before we have that.

  Daydreaming and fantasizing about the beast before me, he turns from pulling an ax from the wood and is looking up at me. I inhale deeply, giving him a small smile. I can tell by his expression he's concerned by my previous forlorn appearance. But I feel he's always worried I'm not happy, so I give him a huge smile just before I grip the bottom of my shirt and pull it up, flashing him my bare tits.

  “I love you,” he mouths and I blow him a kiss.

  I know it might seem that everything between Stone and me is sexual, and it is. Okay maybe not everything, but a lot of it is. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only language we know. When we feel any emotion, happiness, love, anger, sadness, it somehow comes through is with sex. It might not be healthy or the best thing, but it’s what works for us.

  About an hour later, Stone and I get into his giant pick-up truck with the mobile clinic trailer attached in the back for a house visit. Some of the clients he has are too hard to transport or put too much stress on the animals, so we go to them. The windows are down and blowing our hair all around as Sonic Youth’s “Kool Thing” blares over the speakers while Stone practically floors it down back roads. I've yelled at him hundreds of times that it's stupid to drive like this with the trailer, but he doesn't give a shit. Mainly because I'm the one who has to clean up the mess back there when we park. But every now and then when he looks over at me, childlike grin in place, eyes crinkling in the corners, he notices my expression and slows down.

  “No fun,” he always says with a shake of his head.

  But really, I'm the one who'll have to hear him bitch if something gets ruined from his joy riding. I stick my tongue out and wiggle it at him, and my body shifts forward as suddenly Stone slams on the breaks and forces the gear into park. My expressions one of shock and confusion as he takes me by the arm, hauling me over to situate my butt on his lap in a flash.

  “Do that again,” he tells me, looking at my lips; I stick my tongue back out, only to be sucked into his mouth.

  We start making out, my tongue moving feverishly along his and I swear we mimic our bodies fucking when he Frenches me like this. He grunts as his fingers dig into my hips and I begin grinding down on his third leg.

  “You wanna fuck?” he asks, like that's even a question.

  I reach down to pull his dick out, but he's opening the door, with one hand around my back, getting us out of the truck and setting me on my feet. He pulls me by the hand to the passenger side of the truck, shielding us just in case. Turning me around, I reach out and curl my fingers over the bed of the truck, glancing down both stretches of dirt road and the road that ends right across from us, forming a T, to check for cars as he rips down my g-string. Stone was definitely more of an exhibitionist than me; I recall the first road trip we took and the trouble we almost got in several times. His hands shove the skirt of my sundress up then spreads my ass apart roughly with a palm on each cheek, before the blunt tip of his dick invades my pussy. My smile widens as euphoria and elevation transform me. I’m still forgetful of how big he is, how just when I think he’s about to bottom out inside me, there’s still six inches left to go.

  “Stone,” I pant, “Stone…shit, fuck…ohhhhh, that dick, God that dick,” I moan.

  “Tell me about it,” he demands in my ear, pulling my back into his chest as he’s still pushing into me.

  “Fuck,” I sigh. His head plunges, veins rub, he’s so goddamn hard and long and Jesus. “Your cock was made for me,” I tell him.

  His teeth nip my earlobe. “You were made for me,” he tells me before beginning to pound my pussy into submission.

  WHOOP! WHOOP!

  We freeze and look up and see a cop car across from us at the end of the road.

  “You folks okay? Oh, Dr. Stone, how are you?” the cop says.

  Stones cock swells inside me as we both breathe fast and I try to download what he can see. Me looking fuck drunk, hair a mess, Stone behind me. But he can’t see me practically naked and slightly bent over with my husbands cock shoved in me.

  “Car sick,” I pant.

  “Oh no. I have some bags in my trunk-”

  “No!” Stone and I say in unison. “I think it’s passed,” I nod, pushing my hair out of my face and standing, freeing Stone to put his dick back in his pants.

  **

  On Friday, a few of the guys Stones met at the indoor rock climbing place in the next town over, come over for drinks. I’ve been attempting to become friends with their wives, but like always, we’re sitting in the living room, the three women chatting amongst themselves as I sit on the end of the couch and watch them. The guys are out back, and I’d much rather be there, but don’t want to be that wife. You know, the clingy one who can’t let my husband have guy time. So, I sit and endure.

  Melanie, Jill and Dawn are nice enough, we’re just from different worlds. One where they can’t wait for pumpkin spice latte’s to come back, for the sale at Nordstrom’s, the next episode of a housewives show and how that channel should do one where we live. I roll my eyes, because there is nothing remotely entertaining about this region.

  Want a reality show? Come to a whore house. The thought has me smiling to myself and wondering how my old friends are. I speak to Brooke the most, who’s with Elijah not too far from us and we plan to meet up eventually. Brooke and I had some good times and when I see her, living with her man and happy AF, it again makes me feel guilty. I hedge when we talk if she misses the life, but I never have the nerve. I guess I don’t want her to say no and then really make me feel worse. We spent a few days on our honeymoon with Marcus and Jane, who are still laying low after the fire at The Magnolia. I always connected with Marcus. He was like me in a lot of ways, yet I looked up to how solid he was and it inspired me to gain the confidence to go to school and become a vet assistant.

  “He always wants it up the butt,” Melanie whispers ‘butt’ and instantly my attention returns to the present.

  “All guys want anal, so weird,” Jill scoffs.

  “I would never…it’s like, hello, one-way exit, am I right?” Dawn jokes as she raises her wine glass.

  The other two giggle and I sigh, glancing up at the clock.

  “Would you ever?”

  It takes a long silence for me to notice three sets of eyes on me.

  “What? Anal?” I ask, tucking my now brown hair behind my ear.

  They nod.

  I close my mouth, and ponder my next move. I could lie and they’d move onto another boring topic. But I know they already don’t like me, so why not be honest.

  “I love anal,” I tell them.

  One by one, their mouths pop open.

  “You lie,” Jill gasps.

  “Nope. I love anal…and all sex, really,” I tell them, lifting a shoulder.

  They all look at me with mixed facial expressions of confusion and I wait for someone to call my bluff. The silence goes on so long I wish someone would, so I can fake laugh and tell them I was
joking, just to get the conversation moving again.

  “How? I mean, it hurts,” Mel finally says.

  “Not really. I mean,” I pause and think of my words. “There’s lubes and numbing gels, but, if you’re into it, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” I shrug. “Not that I’m that tight there anymore anyway,” I add with a little giggle.

  “Who wants more wine?” Brent, Jill’s husband asks, walking in holding a bottle of wine up.

  There’s an uneasy silence as he fills the glasses and once he disappears, Dawn says, “Did you guys see that new eye cream featured on Dr. Oz?”

  And then it’s back to shit conversation topics I have no interest in. Eventually, I excuse myself and head outside to where the guys are sitting around a fire and smoking cigars. The weather turning into Fall has me wrapping my burgundy cardigan around me after pulling the sleeves down over my hands. Stone sees me approaching and gives me the look like he does, all sexual beast honing-in on his prey, and it makes my insides instantly yearn for him. The guys laugh about something and then Stone shifts in his seat, widening his legs for me to sit on his lap.

  “Mind if I join you fellas?” I ask, looking to see them all looking at me and none of them seem put off by my appearance.

  Sitting on Stones thigh, he lifts the cigar up and I take a hit, tilting my head back and blowing the smoke out in a long stream, which appears thicker with the chilly air.

  “Those are good,” I comment.

  “Thank you. Got ‘em straight from Cuba,” Mark, Mel’s husband tells me. “You like cigars?” he asks, looking at me while he takes a hit off his own.

  “I do, on occasion. I used to smoke them a lot when I worked at The Magnolia,” my words halt as I realize what I’ve just said.

  “What kind do you like, I have a guy, could get you some if you were interested,” Mark says.

  And I’m relieved that what I said didn’t lead to an inquiry about what The Magnolia was. Stone squeezes my leg as his gigantic hand snakes over my thighs to rest on my knees. I look down at him and he flashes his eyes up to me a moment later, giving me a knowing grin.

  “So, now that you’ve been here a while? What do you guys think of our little town?” James, Dawn’s husband asks.

  “It’s fine,” Stone says with a nod, then looks up at me. “It’s been more of an adjustment for this one,” he adds, his other hand running down the back of my hair.

  I look down, feeling a bit like a dick for not only Stone bringing up my feelings, but now broadcasting them.

  “It’s just an adjustment,” I say looking between the three men.

  “You gonna come climbing with us next weekend?” Brent, asks, giving me a look I recognize. The kind men gave me during cattle call at the brothel when they wanted me.

  “Maybe,” I smile, laughing a little. I’m not good at this rock climbing shit they do, but I try because it’s something Stones passionate about.

  “I know we all appreciate when you come with us,” he adds.

  The times I have joined them, it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me how these three men and my husband watched me in my skin-tight clothing. I’ve been trained from years of working in the sex industry to catch men’s cues and that craft has never gone away, it’s just ingrained in me.

  “Maybe,” I repeat.

  Stones thumb begins to rub the inside of my knee and as conversation carries on, his hand moves higher, the light from the fire accentuating the dips and planes of Stones face as I watch him. His hand moving to the apex of my thighs has me crossing my legs, not to stop him, but to hide him. Even though I’m expecting it, his thick thumb grazing over my black legging covered clit has be inhaling deeply and biting my lip to stifle it. The men are laughing and talking loud, and Stones also in the conversation, like he’s oblivious to his ministrations on me.

  My back straightens as his thumb pets me, hard and fast, yet stealthy, and I know no one realizes what’s going on. But I want them to. This sudden fantasy of these men watching my husband finger fuck me in front of them has me panting and wanting to do something stupid to bring attention to us.

  “Mark, did you bring in the bottle of pino from the car?” Mel yells from the back door.

  And that moment, the instant the attention is toward the house, Stone looks up at me and with one hand on the back of my head, brings me down to kiss the fucking shit out of me.

  “Ohhhh,” I groan in his mouth as his tongue and fingers cause me to come.

  My body goes rigid, and I fight the urge to ride his hand. I have no idea what’s going on around me, but I feel Stones third leg kicking against my thigh and I pull back to look down at him.

  It’s then I catch something there, some reasoning behind what he’s just done. Then he looks away, over toward where Brent is sitting and I glance over to see him looking right back at us, and I know, I just know he knew what we did. I move to stand, but Stones hands lock on my hips and he slams me back down.

  “Don’t get up yet,” he tells me against my ear.

  **

  Hours later, the house is empty and Stone puts the fire out while I clean dishes and wine glasses in the sink. I’m lost in thought, still trying to figure out Stone at the fire. I think I know, but I want to know for real, or do I? The backdoor closes and my eyes see his hulk of a frame enter the kitchen in the reflection of the window in front of me.

  “What was that about?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “Out there, by the fire.”

  “Oh, you mean when my friends were fucking you in their heads?” he asks, coming to stand just behind me.

  “Stone,” I state, turning to look at him. “Do you know why I got into the sex industry?” I ask.

  He just looks at me, because yes, even my man who’s got the unicorn of dicks, still gets butt sore by guys checking me out. We’ve discussed this, many times and he knows why, but sometimes I need to remind him.

  “Because?” I lead, raising my brows.

  “Because men are attracted to you. And I remember when I first saw you I knew you were sexy and would fuck amazingly and it’s no different for other men. I know you love me and would never be with anyone but me, so I need to realize that,” he tells me, repeating words I’ve said to him a million times.

  I nod. “But I don’t appreciate you using sex as a weapon or a whatever to make someone jealous or mark me as territory,” I confess, turning back around to finish cleaning the glasses with my soapy hands. His hands move around my hips, pulling my pelvis back hard and pressing his cock against my lower back.

  “Is that what I did?” he questions, his lips running up my neck feather light.

  “Yes,” I reply, shuddering as he does it again and my nipples harden like fucking diamonds beneath my dress shirt.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he adds and I know he’s fucking with me, that’s exactly what he was doing, but his lips and hands have me not giving a shit anymore.

  Those hands, sneak up under my shirt to caress my torso, his fingers sliding up to graze the underswells of my tits.

  My fingers tremble as I hold the glass, my eyes fluttering as his tongue traces the pulse point of my neck.

  “Sure you didn’t,” I moan.

  “You mad at me?”

  His breath tickles my ear, his hands moving back out and up to the buttons of my shirt, undoing them one by one from top to bottom. The shirt and cardigan open enough to expose me, revealing my naked torso and chest. His hands grab my tits hard and I gasp.

  “Are you mad at me?” he repeats, this time more in a tone he reserves for the bedroom.

  “Maybe,” I reply.

  “Maybe?” he smiles against my ear, his fingers pinching my nipples hard, the barbells there adding the extra bite and I smile. “Well, I’m mad at you,” he tells me.

  “Me?” I ask in shock and turn to face him. “For what?” my brows furrow.

  “For coming outside in leggings with no panties on and a shirt with no bra. For making me hard out there and
not being able to fuck you.”

  Oh God. When the man says the word fuck, it still gets me wet.

  “We can fuck now,” I state, dropping my voice and looking up at him through my lashes.

  A small smile curls up one side of his lips. “I’d rather you choke on my cock for a while.”

  I lick his lips and begin moving to my knees, when his vet cellphone begins to ring. I swear to God this house is bugged, if not with camera’s there’s some sort of listening device. I don’t care, I’m sucking my husbands dick. He groans more about the interruption and me looking up at him as I make swift work of his fly.

  “Yeah?” he answers the call, inhaling deeply as I lick my lips and take him in, sucking hard as I pull back. “Mmhmmm,” he swallows. His eyes close as he listens to the person on the other line and I work my hands and mouth, sucking and tugging, moaning as I feel his cock twitch and swell along my tongue. “Okay, I’m leaving right now,” he says in punchy gasps, before ending the call and tossing his phone.

  “Babe,” he groans.

  “No! I’m sucking your dick!” I demand, before reattaching my mouth to him.

  I blow him hard and fast, pulling out all my moves, and no joke, within minutes he’s coming in my mouth. I know we haven’t done a lot in a while, so I’m not surprised, but I was hoping to play a little more.

  “Damn woman…why are you so goddamn sexy?” he whispers, shoving his thumb in my mouth for me to suck.

  I look up to his eyes and smile. “It’s you that makes me sexy,” I tell him. Because even though men think I’m sexy, Stone is really the reason I feel sexy. I rise to my feet with the help of his hands. He hugs me, holding me tight, kissing the top of my head as I tuck his cock into his pants and do them up.

  “Love you,” he tells me, cupping my face and looking down at me. “I love you,” he repeats, looking into my eyes.