But we each found our niche and kept out of the other’s hair—a good formula for success. Trish handled marketing and money matters while I dealt with the artists and scouted for new and exciting talent. Next month would see the opening of our most ambitious show to date—a conceptual show with Schmidt and several other avant garde sculptors. I’d been working on this particular exhibition for the past year.
“Do you expect Tony to make the opening?” Trish asked casually.
“He’d better,” I replied crossly. “If he’s planing to be away again …” My voice trailed off as I considered that very likely possibility.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll manage something,” Trish said in a soothing tone.
Later I would find out just what that something would be.
CHAPTER 4
I arrived home the next evening after spending the night at the Lewis’. As I entered my loft apartment in SoHo, the flat panel screen in my hallway came to life and Tony’s image appeared.
“Val, where the hell are you? I’ve been calling all day. I’m flying back tomorrow evening. How about dinner together? Call me when you get in.”
Well, that was a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t seen Tony in two weeks. He’d been on a business trip to Southeast Asia. Quickly I punched in his number. A bland voice instructed me to leave a message. Forget it. I hung up angry with myself for feeling hopeful. Tony most likely was out with a gorgeous oriental maiden half his age. He'd made a point of telling me how attractive the young women were in Thailand.
The more I thought about Tony’s frequent absences and his penchant for sizing up every woman in sight, the more appealing my ‘ideal’ man became. I reviewed my conversation with Trish that afternoon. Could I ever find a man with those qualities I admired? Or would I compromise my standards and put up with someone just to have a warm body in my bed?
I was definitely compromising by having a relationship with Tony that was so far from perfect it wasn’t funny.
I had just fallen asleep when the phone rang. Damn. Should I bother answering? Well, I was already up, so why not.
“Hullo?”
“Val, did I wake you?” Tony sounded apologetic.
“Yup. So what else is new?” At this point I didn’t care if my sarcasm was obvious.
“You sound grumpy. Where’ve you been all day? Out with another man?”
Of all the dumb questions. “Sure. Absolutely. Out with all three of my lovers. Any other questions?”
“Okay, okay. Sorry I mentioned anything. Seriously, where were you? I tried calling from 9 a.m. on.” Tony sounded sincere.
“I spent the day with Trish relaxing by her pool. The city’s too hot—we’re having a real heat wave or don’t you remember August here? Of course, it must be beautiful weather where you are.” I sounded snippy, but I couldn’t help it. He could offer to take me along to some of these exotic locales.
He chuckled. “I remember. You forget I’m a native New Yorker. And, yes, it’s been lovely weather. Wish you could have been here with me.”
So why don’t you invite me? I felt like screaming at him. Instead, I swallowed my rage and concentrated on the fact that he would be back the next evening. “What time does your plane arrive?”
“Seven-thirty. After you pick me up at the airport, we could stop for dinner. Sound okay with you?”
What could I say? I did want to see him. Who knew how long he’d be around this time? “Fine. I’ll be there.”
After I hung up, I started thinking about our conversation. Tony definitely took me for granted. That much was pretty obvious. We’d had an intimate relationship for over three years and, though we had separate residences, were seen as a couple by our friends and business associates. Did I want more than this? I pondered the question. I liked having my own space and being in control of my life. But something was definitely missing. What was missing was another story. I’d have to think about it.
Tony was not my ‘ideal’ man. He didn’t have most of the qualifications I wanted in a partner. He would have to change quite a bit before he could measure up to my expectations.
Still mulling over the puzzle of my life, I finally drifted off to sleep
* * * *
“Guess what? I can spend the night,” Tony said, winding his arms around me.
I had a sarcastic comeback at the tip of my tongue. Somehow I managed to control it. “That’s great,” I replied. “One night with you is equal to a thousand with someone else,” I added.
We walked out of the airport arm-in-arm. Anyone viewing us would have thought we were starry-eyed honeymooners. What the heck, I might as well enjoy the moment.
“You brought the van. Good. Now I can stretch out and catch some sleep on our way to the restaurant.” Tony yawned as he lowered the passenger seat and closed his eyes. “Even first class is cramped for long trips.”
“You could spend more time in the States. Why do you have to travel halfway around the world?” I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
“Because, sweetheart, that’s where the best deals are made.” Tony leaned over and planted a loud kiss on my mouth. Then he reclined once more, ready for his nap.
In less than five minutes, he was sound asleep. I looked at his face, so ruggedly handsome in repose. A lock of dark brown hair fell over his forehead. He had the longest eyelashes and the most kissable mouth. The rest of him wasn’t half bad either. My eyes sliced a glance down his broad chest to the firm stomach and, below, to the zippered fly of his smooth fitting tan pants. Was there a slight protrusion or was it wishful thinking?
Sighing, I trained my eyes back to the highway. But I couldn’t direct my errant mind. A sensual fantasy took form and began unwinding like a film reel.
Tony’s hands were tied behind his back as a group of women, clad only in animal skins, marched him into the forest. I was the leader and directed the others to lash him to a tree.
He was begging for mercy. “Please don’t hurt me—please let me go.”
I took no notice of his cries. “Strip him,” I ordered. “Let’s see how big his cock is. Maybe he’ll set a record.” I laughed and the others joined in.
“You can’t do this to me,” he cried, twisting every which way, trying to escape.
“Oh, no,” I said. “We’ll see about that.”
Two women held his hands while I tied them together over his head and then to the tree trunk. With his feet spread apart, we tied his ankles with rope and to neighboring tree trunks. With a large hunting knife, I began slashing the clothes off his body.
He groaned and cursed us, but we didn’t care. We’d captured him and we were determined to have our fun.
Finally he was stripped of everything. I ran my hand down the length of his firm, muscled body to the wreath of dark curling hair surrounding his hardened cock. “I’ll bet you can get stiffer than that.” I stroked the swelling member.
He tensed and shuddered as I rubbed the two heavy globes underneath.
“Let’s measure him,” one of the women shouted, “before he sprays his load.”
“Not yet,” I said. “I want him to have a hard cock for a long time before I give him any relief.”
Tony howled when he heard my words—but I didn’t pay any attention. He was my prisoner and I would torment him as long as I liked. His engorged cock throbbed in my hand, swelling and hot to the touch.
“Are we there yet?” Tony’s husky voice snapped me out of my reverie, just at the crucial moment.
“Uh, almost. I thought you were sleeping.” God, if he could guess what I’d been imagining.
He sat up, adjusted his seat and gave me a sideways glance. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed.”
A little flushed! That was the understatement of the year. My body tingled and my panties were soaking wet. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. “I’m fine,” I said. “It’s been a busy week—I’m a little beat myself.”
“Good,” he gr
inned. “Then you won’t mind if I fall asleep on you tonight.” His large hand reached out to touch my knee. He gave it a light squeeze and sighed. “Although I’ve been dreaming about fucking you ‘til you can’t take anymore.”
The composure I’d been struggling with collapsed at his words. The warmth from his hand spread through my whole body, opening up the floodgates once more. How soaked could my panties get without staining my skirt?
“I wouldn’t mind,” I murmured as I turned off the highway and headed to the small Italian restaurant, one of our favorites.
His hand crept from my knee to my inner thigh. “An appetizer before dinner could be arranged—if you were interested,” he caressed my bare skin.
I shivered and my breath quickened. If his hand explored any higher, he’d know the extent of my arousal—which made me feel vulnerable. Still, the thought of having his cock deep inside me was irresistible. “I’m interested,” I whispered. “But where would we go?”
He leaned over and brushed a kiss on my cheek. “Behind the restaurant there are some dark places. We’ll find something.”
A few minutes later we parked in a very private spot. Tony lowered his seat once again. “Take off your panties and sit on top of me,” he ordered.
I shimmied out of my wet undies, threw them on the backseat and climbed astride him.
Tony’s hand slipped under me as he explored the pulsing core of my sex. “You’re ready for action,” he chuckled, as his fingers found the slick opening.
I’d been ready for a long time—too long. I opened his belt buckle, unzipped his fly and reached in to feel him. His cock was rock hard and hot to the touch. “You’re about ready, too.” I exposed his full erection and the two firm globes underneath
He lifted my buttocks and his engorged cock found my wet, pulsing core. Slowly he entered me, burying himself up to the hilt.
“Ahhhh,” I cried. “Sooooo good.”
The night was balmy and we’d left one window open. Cool air fanned my bare bottom as I rode Tony, clenching and releasing, rubbing and stroking, our passion mounting ‘til I couldn’t stand it any longer.
A wild cry escaped me as a series of hot, wet spasms exploded within me. I shuddered as the ecstatic vibrations traveled throughout my body.
Tony climaxed, sending his semen deep inside. “Ahhhh, Val,” he gasped, pulling me close.
Our two hearts beat furiously for a few long minutes. “I’ve been waiting for this,” I whispered, nestling my head against his shoulder.
“So have I, love,” he answered, as he tenderly kissed me.
We were resting comfortably against each other when I felt his body tense. “Stay still,” he ordered.
A light flickered somewhere above my head. Had the street lamps come on? “What is it?” I whispered.
“Probably a security guard prowling about,” he said softly.
I started to rise, anxious to cover myself. He pushed me down. “Keep low—maybe he’ll pass us.”
No such luck. A flashlight shone in on us. Tony’s hands covered my bare ass as he tried to shield me.
“What’s going on here?” A shadowy male form stood outside the van.
“Everything’s okay. We’re just resting a moment before having dinner,” Tony replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
My face heated up while a bubble of laughter rose in my throat. The guy would have to be pretty naïve to believe that.
“Well, be careful,” the voice continued. “There have been some auto thefts around here recently. Pull your vehicle closer to the restaurant before you leave it.”
“Sure thing. Thanks for the tip,” Tony replied.
The light faded as footsteps retreated. “I’m sure he guessed,” I giggled. “You and your appeteasers.”
“Appetizers,” he corrected me. “And you have to admit you’ve a better appetite now.” He gave a playful slap to my rear before releasing me.
“Here are your panties,” he grinned, reaching to retrieve them from the backseat.
“Oh, I don’t need them,” I said hastily. They were sopping wet, anyway.
“I’ll keep them with me.” He stuffed the lacy briefs in his pants pocket, giving me a knowing stare.
He knew—my cheeks burned, but I didn’t care. The memory of our thrilling ‘appetizer’ would warm me during the lonely times ahead.
CHAPTER 5
During dinner Tony told me all about his new business ventures setting up manufacturing franchises in various Southeast Asia cities. “Business is booming,” he said, cutting into a thin slice of veal piccato. “The workforce is well educated and eager to please. I’m looking forward to some lucrative seasons.”
I nodded and murmured appropriate sounds. Tony loved an audience and as long as I didn’t fall asleep on him, he was pleased.
“So how’s the gallery?” Tony finally turned the talk in my direction. We were at the dessert stage, savoring spumoni and expresso.
“Wait ‘til you see our new show,” I said. “It’s a conceptual one with international artists like Hans Schmidt and Arno Gulin. They’ve been written up in all the art magazines.”
“That so?” Tony quirked an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee. “Are we talking mega bucks here?”
I paused. Tony had a habit of equating success with monetary value. To me there was more to success than how much money one made. “Let’s say there are several pieces selling in the six figure range,” I replied, leaving the exact figures a mystery. “I’m expecting a huge turnout. You’ll be there, won’t you?”
He hesitated. “Don’t know, love. It all depends on this Australian deal I’m coordinating. If it works, I’ll be ‘down under’ for almost a month. Sorry about that.”
I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But it did. Tony would be gone for weeks and miss the best art opening I’d ever planned. Damn him.
That night, lying in Tony’s arms, I listened to his steady breathing and thought about the future. Or did I have a future with him? I was thirty-six and had never married. Before I met Tony, there’d been a few long relationships, but none had inspired me to try for a deeper commitment. Tony, at forty-two, could boast of one marriage that had lasted eight years. He’d been divorced for six years and had no children. Was he gun-shy, afraid to commit again?
Or was I the one too afraid to trust? Did having children enter into the equation? If I wanted any, I’d have to speed things up before my ‘biological clock’ ran down.
Oh, well, I sighed, snuggling in his arms. His strong, lean frame, rock-solid underneath me, gave me a sense of well being. The musk male scent of his body and the springy texture of his chest hairs soothed my jangled nerves. When he found time for me, Tony was one great guy.
Could jealousy be a useful tool? Maybe Trish had a point. Maybe Tony would treat me differently if a rival were in the picture.
No. I’m not very good at playing games. Tackling two relationships at the same time would be a bit much.
Or would it?
A picture formed in my mind. I saw the two of us, Tony and I, lying close together on some exotic beach. Another man, tall and broad shouldered, walked towards us, water dripping from his bronzed skin.
“Hi, Val,” he said, coming to stand next to me.
Who was this gorgeous hunk? He seemed to know me. I struggled to remember.
Tony sat up with a smile. “Glad you could join us. We’ve been looking forward to being with you.”
My ears perked up. This was news to me. Perhaps he was one of Tony’s business associates.
“Val,” Tony turned to me. “Brian will be spending some time with us. Remember we talked about a threesome recently?”
Now it all came back. We’d discussed the possibility of another person joining us. I gave the handsome stranger my full attention. Not bad, not bad at all.
That very evening I was courted and fawned over by Tony and Brian. Later we retired to our luxurious suite overlooking the sea. Would I take turns making love to each of t
hem … or would it be a triple coupling?
Here my mind came to a screeching halt. Up to this point in my life I’d had no experience with a menage à trois. Did I fancy such an arrangement?
I couldn’t seem to find an answer.
Little did I guess how the next few months would see me tackling just this very thorny, and horny, situation.
CHAPTER 6
Andelew Galleries buzzed with excitement on opening night. Hundreds of friends, art lovers and, hopefully, collectors had come to view the conceptual show I’d worked on for the past year.
“Stupendous!” Leroy Winston proclaimed. “This is truly remarkable. What an imagination.”
We were standing beside Hans Schmidt’s monumental Intimate Waterworks piece. The conceptual sculpture occupied one quarter of the space in our main gallery. A replica of an old-fashioned commode was suspended at a 45’ angle by pull chains from the ceiling. Adjacent to it hung a shower stall, also at an angle, enveloped by a frosted plastic shower curtain. Within the stall a busty nude woman soaped herself with a vermilion puff. Water from the showerhead splashed over the woman and, from a drain hole, was recirculated and sent to the white porcelain toilet. The water whirled around in the toilet bowl with a whooshing sound. Every few seconds the toilet flushed itself and shot a water spray back to the shower stall, completing the cycle.
“It’s his piece de resistance,” I said, nodding my approval. Winston was one of the collectors I’d cultivated over the last year. He and his wife were in the process of building an enormous home in upstate New York. An architect friend had clued me in.
“That flow of water is amazing. Look at the arc he creates from showerhead to toilet bowl,” I said. “And don’t you just love the background pieces—the old-fashioned porcelain sink, that medicine cabinet mirror and the pink chenille rug?”
“And the way the rainbow springs out of the arc. How did he achieve that incredible effect? Or is it a state secret?” Winston lowered his voice and glanced around.
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