Smoke & Mirrors

by Michael Faudet

  “My name is Edna, and if you need anything or have any questions, please just ask one of our waiters. If you’d be so very kind to settle your account now, it makes everything so much easier.”

  Sophia handed over her black Amex card to Edna, who swiped it and handed it back along with a small green velvet bag.

  “Just a few things you might need for later,” she said with a cheeky smile.

  —

  We were seated in the grand dining room by our waitress, Penelope, a stunning blonde dressed in a neatly pressed French maid’s outfit.

  The table was covered by a pristine white tablecloth, with silver cutlery and white bone china plates sitting perfectly upon it.

  A vase of red roses placed in the middle.

  I sat down and scanned the room, trying not to look too obvious.

  The other guests all wore the same masks and were immaculately dressed. Deep in conversation and it seemed like a mixture of ages.

  Penelope handed us each a brown leather-bound menu with the words “Kitty Club” embossed on the front.

  “As you can see, today we are serving our famous seafood selection platter, with a choice of three vintage champagnes. If you are a vegan, our chef is also serving a gorgeous wild mushroom lasagna with shaved white truffles and garden-picked asparagus, lemon-infused olive oil, and roasted almonds.”

  Marie’s face lit up and she could hardly contain her smile.

  “Well, that’s me decided. I’ll definitely be having the lasagna.”

  Sophia looked over at me.

  “Guess we’ll be sharing the platter, then. What do you fancy for the selection?”

  I scanned the menu.

  There was a long list of delicious seafood to choose from and I could already feel my mouth salivating at the prospect of sampling the cuisine.

  “I think the orange butter grilled lobsters are a must, two dozen of the natural oysters, sea urchin, the chili soft shell crab, and the vodka salmon gravlax sounds good too.”

  Penelope scribbled on her notepad with a pencil.

  “And a side serve of the black caviar and parmesan hand-cut fries would be great,” added Sophia.

  “Excellent!” replied Penelope. “May I also suggest a bottle of the Krug ’89 to get you started?”

  “Wonderful! I can’t wait.” Sophia gave Penelope a sly wink.

  Our waitress slid away and Marie opened the bag Edna had given us.

  She comically held her hands to her mouth in shock.

  Inside were a couple of tubes of lube and several condom packets.

  I laughed.

  Sophia giggled.

  It was going to be an interesting lunch.

  —

  The food was magnificent.

  After finishing off our second bottle of champagne we were led away from our table by Penelope, up a spiral staircase to “our bedroom.” Most of the other guests had already left the dining room.

  “You’ll find some toiletries, toothbrushes, and toothpaste in the bathroom. Please take a shower and when you’re done, enter the gold doorway at the end of the hall. You can hang your clothes in the wardrobe and there is a safe for your valuables too. Not that we have ever had anything stolen. You’ll find dressing gowns in the wardrobe, all sizes, no need to wear anything underneath, and don’t forget to take your green bag with you. Do you have any questions?”

  Sophia smiled and lightly tapped Penelope’s shoulder with her hand.

  “Any chance you’ll be joining the party later?”

  Penelope grinned. “You just never know.”

  Our waitress walked out of the bedroom and closed the door with a quiet click.

  “Oh my, check this out,” called Marie from the bathroom.

  Sophia and I entered the palatial en suite bathroom. It became instantly obvious what had caught Marie’s attention. The shower cubicle was huge, with multiple showerheads.

  “Room for all of us,” Sophia chuckled.

  “Why don’t you girls go first? I’m going to take a look at those robes.”

  “You’re such a bloody prude, seriously! Where is your sense of adventure? Look, Marie is game.”

  I ignored Sophia’s teasing jibe and tried not to look at Marie as she unzipped the black dress she was wearing, letting it fall to the red and black tiled floor. Closely followed by a matching black bra and panties.

  “I thought you were leaving, you pervert,” laughed Sophia.

  I left the two girls to it and returned to the bedroom. Opening the wardrobe I saw the collection of robes hanging inside. They were all made of red silk and I took one off the coat hanger.

  I laid the robe onto the king-size bed and noticed a minibar tucked neatly away in the corner.

  Opening the minibar fridge I found it stocked with rows and rows of little bottles of spirits. I reached in and took a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, unscrewed the cap, and swallowed the contents in one gulp.

  It was then that I heard the loud moaning coming from the bathroom. Not even the hiss of the showerheads could disguise it.

  Little did I know then, this would be nothing compared to what would happen next.

  —

  The gold door at the end of the hallway opened onto what could best be described as a ballroom. Except nobody was dancing beneath the dimly lit chandeliers.

  Wherever I looked, couples and groups of masked naked bodies were engaged in all manner of sexual acts. On tables, leather couches, against the walls, and even on the emerald green carpet that covered the entire floor.

  A young man with a massive erection walked over to us. He was wearing a white-colored mask.

  “Welcome to the orgy room. My name is Jackson and I’m one of the hosts. I can take your robes.”

  Sophia whispered in my ear.

  “Feeling a bit inadequate, are we?”

  I gently pushed her away and removed my robe and handed it to Jackson.

  “There you go,” I said in my most cavalier voice.

  My frequent visits to the beaches in the South of France had prepared me well for public nudity.

  Marie and Sophia handed over their robes next.

  “Now how many of these do you think you’ll need?” said Marie, taking three condom packets from the bag we had been given and holding them up in her petite hand.

  I took one.

  Jackson laughed. “Oh, I think you’ll be needing more than that.”

  Sophia reached over and started rubbing my flaccid cock.

  I felt my cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

  Which given the activity in the room did make me feel a little prudish.

  It was like Jackson could read my mind and he quickly tried to put it at rest.

  “Everyone has the first-time jitters, but believe me, just relax and go with it.”

  Marie must have already taken his advice to heart.

  She dropped to her knees and performed her infamous party trick. Sliding a condom onto Jackson’s hard cock with her mouth. He let out a deep groan as her pretty red lips covered the tip of his huge shaft.

  I must admit her spontaneous act made my cock swell and stand to attention.

  “Come on, let’s go fuck,” cooed Sophia, taking me by the hand and leading me over to a corner of the giant room.

  I sat down on a large brown leather studded chair and slid on a condom. Sophia straddled me, guiding my hard cock into her tight wet pussy.

  We started to fuck and it felt amazing. Maybe it was the sight of all the others doing it and the sounds of the orgy echoing throughout the ballroom that made the sex feel so hot.

  A girl with blond hair leaned in between us. Despite her wearing a white mask I could tell it was our waitress from the dining room. She locked lips with Sophia, who reached down between Penelope’s
long legs and started rubbing her shaved pussy.

  This just turned me on even more and I gripped Sophia’s slender waist and fucked her harder, faster, and deeper.

  When the orgasm hit, it did so with an intensity that made my whole body shudder.

  Sophia hopped off me and laid down on the carpet, legs spread, while Penelope gently sucked on her swollen pink clitoris.

  Jackson was right.

  I certainly would need more than one condom to survive this debauched afternoon gathering.

  —

  The drive home was a sedate one.

  We were so exhausted we hardly even noticed how beautiful the sunset was outside the windows of the Bentley.

  Sophia was the first to break the silence. “Well, that was fun.”

  Always the champion of the understatement.

  We all burst out laughing.

  Marie looked into the rearview mirror.

  “I thought the lasagna was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Second only to Jackson’s cock,” Sophia replied grinning.

  “Well, I’m pleased you both enjoyed your lunch at the Kitty Club, one of my better ideas, I think,” I said smugly.

  Sophia pinched my arm with a mock expression of surprise on her beautiful face.

  “Your idea? I distinctly remember it was me who suggested we go last night. Honestly, after a few vodkas you’d forget your head was attached to your neck.”

  I knew better than to get into a debate with Sophia.

  —

  A full moon was peeking slowly above the crooked rooftops of the tired terrace houses.

  Loved-up couples, walking hand in hand, weaved their way along the narrow streets of Soho, stepping around the groups of drunk revelers looking for their next drink.

  Marie pulled the Bentley up outside the glass doors of the Purple Palace, a small boutique hotel where Sophia stayed whenever she was in London.

  “Would you like to come inside for a quick martini?”

  Sophia saw the hesitation in my eyes. There was never such a thing as a quick martini or anything when it came to this girl.

  “Or I can get Marie to run you back home?” she quickly added with a flutter of her gorgeous eyelashes.

  She was the abridged version of all the love letters I had ever written. Beautifully concise and impossible to resist.

  It was going to be another long night.

  Why Clouds Cry

  When you walked out of my life, it was like the sun had completely vanished from the sky. I now know why clouds cry.

  One Kiss

  All it took was one kiss.

  The tide running backward away from the beach.

  Our love—

  An unstoppable force building on the horizon.

  Two hearts stranded on the shore.

  Waiting for the tsunami to hit.

  Lost Time

  We always lived for tomorrow. Never for today. Now all that’s left of our love is an unfinished yesterday.

  Casablanca

  Do you remember the night we watched Casablanca in bed, drinking sweet plum wine in teacups?

  The light flickering across your rosy cheeks, black fringe framing your tipsy eyes. My hand beneath the sheets, a finger writing your initials on the inside of your thigh.

  How we made love before the end credits rolled across the screen?

  You kneeling, head pressed down into the pillow, while I fucked you from behind.

  The mini earthquake between your legs as the orgasm came.

  Have you forgotten how we ran upstairs like two naughty children, raiding the fridge for midnight snacks? A feast of hummus, tabouli, and toasted flatbread eaten by candlelight.

  How we whispered “I love you” with our arms wrapped tightly around each other?

  —

  “Of course I remember. How could I possibly forget a memory tattooed onto my heart?”

  Passing Seconds

  How I love the slow seduction of the now. The moment when even passing seconds take a deep breath and all that matters is your eyes staring into mine.

  A Long-Distance Relationship

  You texted me again.

  A series of love heart emojis wrapped around a lengthy paragraph of typed words that said how much you were missing me.

  My sun rising while yours was setting. A slow conversation between two lovers separated by time zones and circumstance.

  We both knew it would be difficult living apart, but I had no idea just how empty our lives would become. Going to bed each night and waking up to nothing. Just a silent void. Broken by the chatter of a television switched on to give the illusion of company.

  A cup of morning coffee made for one.

  I still remember the day you burst through the front door, your voice giddy with excitement telling me the news that you had gotten the job. The moment when my heart sunk, hidden by a beaming smile and an enthusiastic hug.

  “I’m just so happy for you!” I lied.

  We drank the bottle of champagne that had been waiting in the fridge, just in case. Each mouthful a bitter reminder that I was actually going to lose you. Not that I let you know how I really felt. How could I? It was an opportunity of a lifetime, a dream come true for you.

  Later that night we made love.

  Afterward, as we lay in bed staring at the ceiling, you noticed something was wrong. Somehow you had seen beneath the veneer of happiness I had tried so desperately to project.

  “It’s only going to be for a year and then I’ll be back. The time will fly by and we can spend all the holidays together,” you whispered. Wrapping your arms around me. Trying to reassure me that everything was going to be alright.

  I suddenly felt so incredibly guilty. Annoyed at my own selfishness. Of course we could make it work. We wouldn’t be the first couple to have a long-distance relationship.

  Kathy took my hand, her soft brown eyes staring into mine.

  “I love you,” she said reassuringly. “And nothing is ever going to change that.”

  —

  One year has now turned into two years.

  Our texts have got shorter. The Skype calls, less frequent.

  “I don’t want you to have to stay up so late during the week and anyway we can chat on the weekends, right?” she said.

  You were always the logical one.

  We both decided to skip the next holiday break too.

  “Better we save the airfare money for a real holiday one day, to somewhere exotic. Maybe Tahiti,” I said.

  I can hear the birdsong outside the window while I make a morning coffee.

  The sun streaming into the kitchen.

  It’s going to be a beautiful day.

  —

  Absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes it just teaches us that we can live apart.

  It Was Over

  A secret shared

  by quivering lips,

  the words escape

  in shades of blue,

  no eyes can hide

  in downward glance—

  a passing cloud

  across the sun.

  A glass of red

  remains untouched,

  a quiet sigh

  is barely heard,

  the whisper

  of a summer breeze—

  lost within a chorus

  of singing cicadas.

  When left unsaid

  so much is said,

  your silence—

  I understood.

  Damaged Goods

  Do we not enter this world a little broken? Damaged goods with awkward smiles. Searching for the glue we call love.

  Careless Words

  It was yo
ur careless words,

  laced with malice

  that drew blood

  upon wrists—

  that longed

  only to be kissed.

  The Party

  My heart started to race the minute you entered the party, walking across the room toward me, a smile flashed in my direction.

  There was something quite magical and weirdly hypnotic about you.

  You wrapped one arm around my neck, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and playfully stroked my chin with your other hand.

  “How are you?”

  My eyes averted yours. In case the pretense of being just friends was revealed, the longing to be more, given away.

  “All good, couldn’t be better,” I replied, slowly taking a step backward.

  You gently ran a finger down my cheek, and before I could say anything more, you were gone.

  I watched you walk away and vanish into the crowd of writhing bodies on the dance floor.

  A pang of regret pounding deep inside my chest.

  I knew our time had come and gone.

  Yet here I was thinking about you again, retracing the steps of a relationship that was always destined to fail.

  “I think it’s best if we put all of this behind us and move on.”

  You were right, of course. No matter how hard I tried, you just weren’t that into me. Not in the way I hoped for, dreamed about, and wished for night, after night, after night.

  I remember I once read a short story about a girl who never left home. Preferring to live instead in a fantasy world of her own making rather than face the reality of life outside.

  At the time it had seemed a ridiculous premise, and I felt a little frustrated by her lack of courage to open the front door and confront whatever the truth may be.

  How quickly perceptions can change when love slams the door shut. Wiping the smile from your face in an instant. The shock of rejection, like a dagger plunged into your chest and twisted.