by Dee Dawning
"It means we'll see if you practice what you preached just before we went into that God forsaken casino. What we did sexually before we met shouldn't count, doesn't count.
"Lester had eyes for Chloe and after we had been intimate for awhile he started pushing me to get Chloe to join us, especially if we were in my bedroom and Chloe was home. When I wouldn't do it, he started making suggestive double entendre—dual meaning—remarks to Chloe."
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. I can't remember specifically. Things like, ‘Too bad you weren't there. You could have rubbed my ... back.’ or, ‘That is a ... penetrating thought.’”
"Go on."
"Eventually, she asked me what was with him. Now, Chloe is a bit of an excitement freak and is usually looking for new experiences, therefore, she was all for it. I wasn't convinced, but she had planted a little seed in my mind, which grew and grew."
Scott's eyes burned into me with curiosity. “What was that?"
"Before I go on, let me ask you a question. Do you find the idea of Chloe and me together, sexually, repulsive?"
"No. You already told me you found her attractive. Hell, I do. I'm only human."
"You'd like to fuck her. Wouldn't you?"
"If I wasn't in love with and married to you? Probably. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing. Just wondering. Anyway, the seed that Chloe planted was that while we were both with Lester, we could also be with each other. This was a hint that she still thought about the time when we were about to make love and were interrupted.
I noticed we were zooming past the desert metropolis of Baker, population Two hundred twenty. “Aren't you going to stop in Baker for breakfast ‘n a blow job? I'm sure we could find a suitable rest room there we could..."
He smiled. “Sex, sex, sex. Is that all you think of?"
"You do seem to have that effect on me. Enjoy it while you can. In ten years or so, when the newness wears off, I may only give it to you every other night."
He laughed. “Oh my God. Only every other night? I might have to take up masturbation."
I looked at him and sneered. “Again."
He laughed. “Again. How—"
"Because everyone that's not involved does it."
"You got me there. Tell me about you and Chloe."
"Chloe wasn't wrong. The more I thought about it the more it sounded like fun.
"Lester and I were already having sex. He had the hots for Chloe and she kind of liked him. And of course, Chloe and I had unfinished business.
"Still, even after I had decided to do it, I held off. Chicken I guess. However, Lester was making a threesome look better and better."
Scott appeared to be tensing up. His knuckles on the steering wheel were white from grabbing the wheel so hard and his neck and jaw muscles seemed taut. “Are you sure you're all right with talking about my premarital sex life? You look like you're ready to bust a gasket."
Gritting his teeth Scott said. “I'm okay. Just give me the condensed version. I don't like to think about that asshole fucking you any more than I have to."
"Okay, I'll speed it up, but you might like what I have to say about Lester next. As a lover, on his best day, he was adequate. On his worst day, he was pathetic. With him, sex, like life, is all about him. If he comes and you don't, too bad. He rolls over and goes to sleep. Leaving you to make love to your hand. Chloe was looking better and better as a potential lover.
"One night after a show in the hotel lounge, the three of us stayed and had drinks. Chloe and I were celebrating landing the job at Pokey's and Lester joined us. I had just enough to drink that I told Lester that if he went and got a room, we'd join him. That first night Lester was all for the fresh meat. He never put a hand on me, but he did do a pretty good job on Chloe. Enough that she thought he was a good lover. After fifteen minutes, at the most, he came. As usual, he went to sleep and that's when our fun began. You might say that we used and continued to use a heterosexual threesome to cover up our lesbian foray."
Scott's facial expression said he wasn't enjoying this, yet the bulge in his crotch said differently. “You mean each time the three of you went to bed, Lester had his way with Chloe, went to sleep and you two had fun afterwards?"
Suddenly it seemed like he was more interested than angry. “Not quite, though it did happen that way a couple times. The next time, Lester watched us kiss and fondle each other,, then when we were hot, he had intercourse with both of us. Another time he screwed me dog style while I pleased Chloe orally. There was no set way."
"Did you like having sex with Chloe?"
"Oh, yes. We pleased each other and we made sure our partner had at least one orgasm."
"Do you think you're bi-sexual?"
"I suppose, since I had sex with a woman, I am. Although I have never felt a draw to another woman like I did with Chloe. Does it bother you that I had sex with Chloe?"
"You already asked that. Oddly, no, not like it does with Lester."
Scott asked a couple more questions and then was silent. The ordeal with the maniac must have caught up with me as I was suddenly tired and napped.
The loud bullhorn of a passing tractor-trailer rudely startled me awake. I'd been asleep for a couple of hours and a glance around told me we were descending El Cajon Pass, heading toward San Bernardino. I placed my hand on Scott's lap, letting him know I was awake. “Are you mad at me?"
He switched hands on the steering wheel and placed his hand over mine. “The correct question is do I wish you hadn't done it? The selfish answer is yes. Am I mad at you for what you did? Rachel, you are a grown woman. Since I was not yet part of your life, I have no right to be mad at you..
"Another question popped into my mind though. You said each time you had a ménage you got Lester to pop for a hotel room. Did you have a ménage at the Hilton?"
I looked out the window and watched a slow moving freight train headed in the same direction as us, before answering.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, we did—once. Lester wanted to do it again the night I caught him in bed with Chloe but I couldn't. It was that time of the month."
"Why did it bother you that he was screwing her that night, when it was okay the other times?"
I had wondered this myself. “I have asked myself this same question, and I think it was because we planned it the other times. He snuck off that time and did it without my permission. It was the same day he found out that Cedric was my uncle."
"And the time you had the ménage at the Hilton. Did anyone know or see what you were doing?"
Through the windshield, I could see the grayish-green of smog ahead.
I started to shake my head then stopped. “There was ... a maid. Chloe had asked for more towels an hour earlier. When there was a knock on the door, she answered it naked, and the maid, a pretty young Latina, was shocked. Then Chloe pointed through the open doors at Lester and I who were then engaged and asked her if she would like to join us. The maid shook her head, fingered a crucifix around her neck and beat it out of our den of iniquity."
"It looks like we found the source of the email."
"I don't think it was her. Apparently, Chloe got her thinking because she brought more towels the next afternoon, while Chloe and I were shopping, and had sex with Lester."
"It didn't have to be from her. She could have told someone else."
"Maybe. Lester said she was a wildcat."
"Humpf! Like you're not?"
"I'm a wildcat with you. With him, it was different. I hope you take comfort in that."
His glance shifted momentarily to me as he flashed a warm smile at me. “I do."
"Tell me though, is his dick really bigger than mine?"
I laughed. Male ego. “If it is, I couldn't tell. It seems about the same as other men. I don't think there was an inch difference."
Scott inhaled deeply. “And how many men is that?"
I left his question hanging for a minute before answeri
ng. Instead, I looked out the window. The scenery was gradually changing from desert to California sub-tropical as we entered the outskirts of San Bernardino. Unfortunately, the smog formed a dreary overcast.
"What's with you? On one hand, you say it doesn't matter what happened before we met but then you keep asking how many men I've been with. If it really doesn't matter, why do you ask?” I half turned in my seat and faced him. “All right, I give up. You win. I've been intimate with less than ten men! So tell me, how many women have you been with?"
* * * *
That's it? Less than ten? Stupid me, to push the issue. I felt my brows crinkle. “That's all?"
"I told you I wasn't promiscuous, but you wouldn't believe me."
Quickly changing the subject, I said, “Look it's starting to rain.” Raindrops began a scattered pattern upon the windshield. I turned on the wipers and increased the speed as the rain fell heavier.
"Scott! How many women have you been with?"
Should I answer? Should I tell her I've lost count?
"Oh, never mind, I'm sure it's dozens. I knew you were a player when I married you—when I met you."
"I'm sorry. It's simply that whenever we're together you seemed so horny, as if you craved sex."
"That's not me. That's what you do to me. I thought you liked it. It doesn't matter, you wanted me to marry you real bad, and so now that you have me, it's a prim and proper wife you want. Well then Mister, it's a prim and proper wife is what you will have. But remember this, Buster. Your catting days are over."
Rachel prim and proper? I couldn't picture it. Would I love a reserved Rachel as much as this vibrant, spontaneous woman? “Never!” Please forgive me for being an ass. I want you, Rachel. The real Rachel that I fell in love with. Don't ever change."
* * * *
It rained all the way to South Pasadena. Rachel had fallen asleep again. Apparently, the ordeal with the lunatic combined with our conversation took something out of her. I hated to wake her, but I had no idea where Huntington Garden was. The rain was beginning to let up and I could see the occasional ray of sunlight streaking through the clouds, in one case making a row of tall stately palms seem to glow.
I looked over at Rachel and swallowed. She was leaning halfway between the seat and door with her head resting on the window. Dark brown curls accented her beautiful face, with a ringlet lying on her forehead. My heart swelled when I thought once more—this is my wife. I never knew that love could be so strong. But then I thought, a strong love brings danger with it. The danger of losing the one you love. Quickly, I banished those awful thoughts and reached for her soft feminine hand.
"I hate to wake you dear, but I have no idea where Huntington Garden is."
She got her bearings before replying. “Make a right here."
With her help, we pulled up to the condo complex in no time. She directed me into the closest guest parking space, since their two designated stalls were occupied by their cars. Walking into her first floor condo, I suspected it was a converted apartment. Rachel confirmed this.
"The owners converted to condos while I was living here. They offered me ten percent off the price if I wanted to stay. It didn't cost me anything down to buy it, since I was able to use that ten percent for the down payment and closing costs. The only problem is the payment is higher than the rent was. That's why Chloe moved in—to help me with the payment."
"It's darling.” And it was. It was a bit eclectic and the colors lavenders and peaches seemed bizarre but it coalesced nicely. Several snapshots, attached to a lattice plaque and placed on a wall, drew my attention. As expected, they were mostly of Chloe, Rachel, or both, acting silly. I chuckled at one where they both flashed their boobs, ‘Girls Gone Wild’ style. “Who took this picture,” I inquired.
"We did,” said Chloe, stretching as she walked out of her bedroom and up to me. Yawning, she pecked me on the cheek, “Hello, you sexy man. She was sporting scanty panties and a tee shirt showing a traffic sign, displaying, ‘SLIPPERY WHEN WET’ with an arrow pointing down. Stretching her arms out wide, she yawned and then wrapped them around me. “How about a hug for your beautiful bride's roomie?” My groin stirred. I glanced over at Rachel and she smiled. She came over and hugged both of us.
Chloe broke the hug and flopped down on the white leather couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. She spread her legs a little and I could see the outline of her labia through the skimpy clinging panties. “So how was your honeymoon night?"
Rachel dropped down next to her. “It was great. We had some Amaretto with our sex."
"I was so jealous of you two, driving home at two in the morning, while you guys were in that wonderful house enjoying your glorious honeymoon throes of passion. I'm glad your new hubby didn't freak out when that newspaper chick brought up our ménages."
"Well, he did a little. I had to explain everything to him."
Chloe gazed at me with her large doe eyes. “You're all right with what went on, with Rachel and me?"
"It's in the past—before I knew either of you. Couldn't do anything about it if I wanted. Chloe, I don't suppose you could put some more clothes on?"
I could see the confusion in her eyes. “Oh, sorry, I'm not used to having a man around here."
"Scott's right, let's get some more clothes on you. We'll talk while you do. Wait ‘til you hear what happened on the way. I haven't had a chance to talk to you much lately.” Rachel pulled Chloe up and the pair headed into her bedroom.
It seemed like a good time to visit my Aunt Marsala, in Hollywood, so, I went to the bedroom door to tell Rachel I was leaving. Without thinking I looked in and immediately turned around. Chloe was naked and looking great. To my shame, I wanted her. Not that I wanted her more than I wanted Rachel. I just wanted her.
"Sorry, Chloe."
"That's okay Scottie, now we're even."
"Rachel, I promised I'd visit my aunt in Hollywood. I'll be gone two or three hours."
Rachel came up and kissed me. “Be good,” she whispered.
"Be good?” I dropped to a whisper, “You're the one who is being left with a former lover, who would like to continue being your lover.” I took her chin in my fingers and winked. “Be gooder!"
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seventeen
Aunt Marsala—Auntie Mim
"Life in Lubbock, Texas, taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on earth and you should save it for someone you love."
—Butch Hancock
Aunt Marsala wasn't in her office. The secretary's call to her cell phone told her she was at home and I was to come there.
The secretary, named Britt, smiled and asked me if I knew where my aunt lived. I assured her I had been to her home in Bel Aire several times.
I rang the doorbell at the entry gate. “Who is it?"
"It's Scottie, Auntie Mim.” The gate lock buzzed.
As I walked toward the ornate front door, it opened and Auntie stepped out to meet me.
We met in the middle of the courtyard. She took my face between her two hands and kissed me. “And how is my favorite nephew?"
"Don't ever let Mark hear you say that."
"Of course not.” She took my hand and led me into her home.
After walking past the front door, closing and locking it, she turned to me. “Well. Did you do it?"
"Yes, I'm deliriously happy Auntie."
"To that pretty girl, you emailed a picture of."
I nodded.
"If she sings as good as you say and is as nice as you think, then she may be worthy of you."
"Honestly, Auntie sometimes she makes me feel overmatched. She's so different, so spirited, and so full of life. You have to meet her."
"And she sings like an angel."
"They both do."
"Wonderful. I'm dying to meet your..."
"Rachel."
"Yes, Rachel. You
brought the demo?"
I nodded.
"Good, let's go into my study.” We walked into her large study, which was right off the entry foyer. “I'm anxious to hear if your love-struck ears can be objective."
"You'll love them, Auntie. I know you will. And when you meet Rachel in person, you'll love her too."
* * * *
I enjoyed my visit with Auntie Mim. I was right. She loved CC ‘n Cooke, and was impressed with their bios and headshots. Although disappointed that we couldn't meet for dinner tonight or tomorrow, she was impressed when I told her time was short to get up to Frisco for the big gig at the Purple Onion.
She said it was too late to contact anyone that day, but she knew exactly whom she wanted to call in the morning.
As I left, she handed me an envelope. “Scottie, the wedding was on such short notice that I had no time to buy you or your lovely bride anything. Here's a little something for the newest Rader. See that she gets this."
I hadn't really told Rachel about my Aunt Marsala, because I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. If Auntie were able to line something up for my ladies, there would be plenty of time to tell her that Mim was a big-time entertainment attorney, representing some of the biggest names in the entertainment industry.
* * * *
When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that Chloe's PT Cruiser was no longer in its space. I was about to knock on Rachel's door when my cell phone rang.
"Hello,” I answered.
"Love ya."
"I love ya, too. Big time!"
"You're sweet. CC and I are at a place called Guerrmo's. Care to join us?"
"If I don't want to, is there a key around here?"
"No."
"I guess I'll join you then. Where's Guerrmo's?"
"You remember Huntington Drive?"
"Yes."
"Go west on Huntington Drive ‘til you get to Garfield St. It's right there."
* * * *
Guerrmo's was a typical Mexican restaurant crammed in a storefront building—ostentatious, colorful, garish. Being in a storefront, it was long and skinny. I found my ladies way in the back, in the Garden Room. Rachel and Chloe were in a dark booth sitting under a pink and yellow bull—piñata, that is. They both smiled as I approached. Rachel slid over to make room for me. I kissed her, tasting residue of the Margarita she was drinking. They had ordered a pitcher and a large order of nachos, with Jalapeños, sour cream and guacamole.
