by E. C. Towers
She wanted to cut off ties with no discussion and just let him assume that she had lost interest. As her car pulled up to the restaurant, she had immediately noticed Hardie standing outside, smoking. He had appeared to be waiting for her. He had stared at Linda as soon as her car door opened. Linda composed herself and stood up before smoothing out the back of her skirt and walking into the restaurant. She gave him zero acknowledgment. She happened to look to the side, hoping that her sunglasses were doing a good job of concealing her curiosity about the young dishwasher hanging out in the alley. She saw by the intense look on his face that he was trying to get her attention.
Linda did not want him to think, or even suspect, that she was jealous of what she had seen. Jealousy would’ve meant that she cared. However, she didn’t know if would be able to hide it so well, and she ignored him, hoping that it had bought her some time.
Hardie knew she had seen him, and yet she failed to acknowledge his presence with even the slightest nod or raise of an eyebrow. She had seen them make love; Hardie was positive.
Linda was at her regular table, looking out the window. She finished off her white wine quickly before signaling for another, barely touching the rigatoni she had ordered. Linda was worried that Hardie was going to try and talk to her before she left, so she dragged dinner on for almost an hour. Nibbling on appetizers, sending them back to the kitchen for being too cold or too hot when they were totally perfect, ordering glass after glass of white wine. She didn’t want to get drunk, but at some point during dinner, she realized it was too late. The next glass of wine would put her over the edge and into a drunken abyss.
She rose to go to the bathroom.
Linda looked towards the kitchen and the bathroom to make sure Hardie was nowhere near either of them. Hopefully, he was all the way in the back, doing dishes, but the way he had stared a hole into her with his eyes when she had arrived gave her a knowing anxiety. Despite the possibility of bumping into him, it was a risk she was willing to take the more her bladder screamed to be relieved.
Linda finished her business only to find him standing by the sinks when she exited the toilet stall, waiting for her.
“Hello, Hardie. It’s nice to see you, and I’d love to chat, but you realize you’re in the wrong bathroom, right?”
“Please don’t act like we both don’t know why I’m standing here.”
“I’m not acting; I really don’t know why you’re here.” That was a horrible lie, and she knew that he had noticed an unfamiliar faltering in her voice.
“You haven’t invited me over for weeks. You know that. Let’s stop playing games, shall we?” Hardie cut to the chase so her façade would break down. “Let’s really talk, you and I, about what’s going on.”
“Okay, fine, Hardie, let’s talk about what’s going on. Let’s talk about how you had sex with some girl in your room.”
“I knew you were watching!” His suspicions had been confirmed “Listen, I can sleep with anyone I want. You can turn on that camera at your discretion. I gave you that privilege. Watch at your own risk. And anyways, what do you care that I had sex with someone? Didn’t you like watching that? You like watching me have sex with girls all the time at the party, so what’s the difference?”
What’s the difference? Linda was torn over whether or not to tell him all the differences she’d seen between the times when Hardie had sex with her party girls versus his lover in the bedroom.
“Hello? Did you hear what I asked?” Hardie was trying to determine what exactly she was thinking about as she stood there in awkward silence.
“You like that girl.” It was simple, to the point. Not so much an answer to his question, but more of a statement that she knew to be true.
Now it was Hardie’s turn to stand in silence.
“You do. You do like her. And that’s okay. I’m certainly not mad,” she lied again; this time, her voice maintained her usual calm and steady tone.
“But Hardie, if you like this girl, do you really want to keep going to my parties, and…” She trailed off, as they both knew what she meant.
“Listen; it’s not even that serious,” he started.
“…. Yet?” Linda finished.
“I still want to attend, Linda. I do.” Hardie walked up to her until her nose was practically touching his chest.
She looked up, knowing in her head that she should cut off all ties with him, but he was so close that she could smell him; a slight hint of Irish Spring soap intermixed with his now all too familiar light outdoorsy sweat. It was intoxicating, and the logic in her brain never had a chance after that moment.
Linda looked up and let herself be kissed by him. He devoured her as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Pushing his lips against hers, as his tongue probed and pressed against her tongue. She melted into his arms as he bit and kissed her neck simultaneously.
“No…no…wait…” Linda protested and pushed him away.
“What?” he winced. She tasted and smelled so good, and it had been too long.
“I can’t do this. I’ve been in the bathroom for at least 15 minutes. They’re going to start to wonder what’s wrong with me and start knocking on the door.”
She was right. Hardie backed up and adjusted his cock, protruding from his jeans at half-mast.
“When can we finish?” Hardie practically demanded.
“Just…tell them you’re sick, and you have to go home. I’ll pick you up at your house on the corner of Tinder Avenue.”
She straightened herself out before walking out through the bathroom door. A couple of minutes later, he peeked outside to make sure the coast was clear and walked back to the kitchen.
16
A Change Of Procedure
Hardie walked out into the night, not sure if Linda had already left, or if she was still in the restaurant watching him. He told Charlie that he had eaten a bad piece of chicken and had the case of the trots. Charlie wanted none of that noise and gladly allowed Hardie to go home. As he neared Tinder Avenue, he saw a car turn the corner, coming from the direction of his house up ahead.
Linda had watched him leave before she took a few obligatory bites of rigatoni and abruptly left the restaurant. Every waiter she passed thanked her profusely for stopping by even though they were all surprised that she hadn’t stayed for her usual dessert of snickerdoodle crème brûlée. The only one who wasn’t surprised was Tim, who secretly fumed when he came to the realization that the newbie dishwasher had beat him to Linda without really trying.
The vehicle slowed down to a crawl as it approached Hardie. He opened the car door quickly, got inside and sat beside her. Finally, they were alone and safe. The car smelled faintly of her lavender oil perfume. Linda always knew just the right amount to put on her without it being overwhelming. It was just the faintest of scents you could catch if you were standing at a certain angle. It was there and then it wasn’t; elusive as the individual who applied it. She leaned in and slowly kissed him, savoring the lips she hadn’t had for three weeks.
As she kissed him, Linda brought her hand between his legs and found that he was already rock hard. Linda cupped his bulge and got chills at the thought of him inside her. He must have sensed that her resolve had cracked as he put his hand up her skirt and pushed her silk panties to the side. He was met by warm wetness that he knew he was responsible for causing. Hardie took his index finger and probed into her soft folds, caressing them slowly, as if they were delicate rose petals. Linda spread her legs wider. She was being driven mad by his expertly-timed pace, just slow enough to feel good, but not fast enough to feel great, leaving her wanting more and driving her mad with frustration. The feeling was a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Hardie,” she whispered in his ear, something she knew could stop all this pleasure, but she said it anyway, “I can’t… well, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I just… there're so many reasons and I just...”
He kissed her mid-sentence and smiled. “Don’t worry. I know. I won’t…
well, we won’t.”
“But you know… everything else…”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll take everything else.” He buried his face into the soft crook of her neck where he tasted her, running his tongue to her collarbone and trailing it down between her breasts as he unbuttoned her blouse. She arched her back and opened up her blouse a little more as her breasts burst out. He caught her stiff nipples in his mouth and traced her areola with his tongue over and over.
Linda moaned, sure that the driver had heard it despite the raised partition, but she couldn’t help herself.
His soft tongue and rough, stubbly cheek felt so good on her bosom. He licked and kissed both her breasts until she was quivering with delight. The streetlights reflected off her chest, from the wetness of his mouth. It was perfect.
Hardie unzipped his pants and laid her down gently across the back seat. He straddled her breasts, placing his firm cock in between them. Hardie cupped her breasts gently and pressed them together with his rigid organ in the middle, slowly using his cock to knead her milky mounds. For the next hour, the driver drove around aimlessly through the town as they reconciled and gave in to the temptation of each other.
* * *
Tim wasn’t much to look at. He was tall and gangly, with scraggly brown hair that came down to his shoulder blades, emphasizing his long face. Tim’s dad called him a “smear” because that was the perfect way to describe him, a normal looking guy that looked slightly smeared, giving him an elongated-like reflection. Tim was a carnival funhouse mirror come to life.
He walked down the street with a certain purpose and stride, rather uncharacteristic of him. Anyone that knew him also knew he was the most kick-back guy in town, always up for a beer, a smoke or both, and a good game of pool or darts. He was the guy everyone partied with, but no one depended on or took seriously because he was an irresponsible flake. The best evidence being that he was 33 and still lived in his mom’s attic. He hated that he had turned into a cautionary tale for high school kids. The guy parents would use as an example of what happens when you do drugs and drop out of school.
Tim would have no argument with such harsh criticism because it was true. While everyone else in high school grew up and became responsible adults, Tim was stuck in 10th grade. He still smoked pot like he was in 10th grade; he still wore band shirts like he was in 10th grade. He still jerked off to dirty magazines in the bathroom while his mom slept, with the only difference being that instead of going to school every day, he went to his job… as a dishwasher at Edges.
Tim felt around for his pocket for a joint and found none. He’d been smoking more than usual lately, especially since Hardie had come around. His clean-cut, All-American jock look reminded him of the cocksuckers who picked on him in high school. Those assholes were the main reason he had dropped out in the first place. It didn’t matter if Hardie was always nice to him, he knew that it was all a deceptive ploy. They’re all dicks. He’d never met Hardie’s kind who wasn’t a gigantic dick. Worse, the two-faced cocky piece of shit was good at playing nice and had managed to be invited to one of Linda’s parties.
Tim nearly punched out his wall when he found out that douche had gotten on the boat. The only benefit of living with his mother, aside from it being rent free, was that her house was by the beach and looked directly over at the dock. Specifically, the dock space that Linda’s huge yacht was located. A few weeks ago, he sat in his usual set up on the balcony after his mom went to bed: including a creaky Adirondack chair, a small cooler of beer and his telescope. It was years ago when he had gotten his telescope and set it up on the balcony. The stars lost their novelty quickly when he discovered that the telescope was powerful enough to peek in on Linda’s sex orgies through certain windows. After seeing that first night, he had set up his telescope every night after that to determine the frequencies of these parties: twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays.
When rumors began to swirl around town that Linda had sex parties on her yacht, it was Tim who stirred it up. Tim then became obsessed with getting an invite on the boat. He had been trying to get an audition, (the process that was told to him by a member that he had plied with alcohol), because he knew Linda would sign him up immediately. He tried to catch her eye whenever he saw her in town, but the woman was ice cold. Smoking hot, definitely, but he saw no emotion behind her sunglasses. Just a sense of urgency with everything she does. Unlike him, every move had a purpose. He dreamt of being dominated by a woman just like her. The thought of her red stiletto pressing into the small of his back was something he thought about while he pleasured himself.
His routine was rudely interrupted when he saw Hardie at the party more than a month ago. How did that smarmy motherfucker get in there? At first, he suspected that he had crashed the orgy, and Tim smiled at the thought of that prick being found and beaten by security. But much to his dismay, the fucker showed up at every party, and Tim noticed that since his inclusion into the club, the schedule was thrown off whack, and some nights he couldn’t watch the orgy because it was a Wednesday and his mom stayed up late during Wednesdays to watch Breaking Bad. The party routine was screwed up, and he knew it was all because of Hardie. He had a feeling that Linda was having more parties just so she could be with him. They were partners at every orgy, gliding around from couple to couple, watching each other playing with themselves, and sometimes participating, but never with each other.
This is how Tim knew that Hardie was a blowhard, walking around like he’s a ladies man with a revolver on his crotch, but come to find out he never used his gun. Well, not on Linda. Aside from extreme homosexuality, there was no other reason why Hardie wasn’t actively engaging in some nasty with Linda. He knew a lot of gay men who would turn back to the dark side for just a day to put it into her. The woman was perfect, and he was convinced that fucking her would be perfect, as well.
Normally, if he suspected that someone was a member, he would kiss their ass and friend them up in hopes that they would break and talk about the orgies; hopefully, get him an invite, too. But he couldn’t bring himself to be nice to the pompous asshole who’d probably gotten everything handed to him because of his pretty little face.
He spotted a lone car driving ahead of him as it made a sudden stop at a dark corner. He thought the car looked like it was Linda St. John’s, but it drove too far ahead for him to be able to tell for sure. Tim saw someone open the door, step out of the car, lean in briefly before walking up the street in Tim's direction.
When they finally crossed paths, Tim was not surprised to discover who it was, but Hardie sure was. They both knew he saw. Hardie nodded his head to Tim as casually as he could, in a feigned kicked-back manner, not wanting to add fuel to the fire of what Tim probably suspected. Tim returned his nod with a glare as he stomped off in the opposite direction.
Fuming, Tim pulled out his cell phone. He was going to get that fucker.
17
Everything In Time
Hardie practically ran to his street. Fuck, had Tim seen him step out Linda's car? He suspected that glare was a strong indication that he had. He didn’t know why he was panicking exactly, but he had a feeling there was going to be some tension at work. Hardie promptly forgot about it when he finally arrived at his house. All he could remember was the softness of Linda’s lips, the sweet smell of lilac body lotion on her legs, her smooth…smooth legs. Hardie was already starting to get hard again, which he didn’t worry too much about since he was just about to jump into the shower and finish it off himself. He threw his wallet on the kitchen counter and nearly knocked over a glass of wine. He looked up a saw Jessica with her head down on a dining room table.
He was briefly confused as to why there was dinner on the table until it hit him like a truck.
They were supposed to have dinner tonight.
She had been planning this dinner all week, proud that she had made all the recipes she had discovered on Pinterest.
And Hardie had completely forgotten.
“Jessica,” Hardie whispered, trying to wake her up gently. She took a deep breath and looked up at him and immediately regretted it. She was mad at him and wanted to stay that way, but felt her anger practically dissipate when she saw his eyes already pleading with her to forgive him.
“Jessica…I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I got off work late, and I forgot… I had drinks with some of the guys and…well, I forgot. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jessica responded in a tone that made it clear it was definitely not okay.
“I don’t know what to say...”
“You don’t have to say anything anymore. You apologized. I forgive you.” With that, Jessica got up from her chair walked out of the room.
“You’re mad...”
Jessica stopped in her tracks. She had tried to hold it in, but she didn’t have the desire anymore.
“Of course, I’m mad!!! You fucking forgot!? Really?? We were just talking about it last night! No one forgets that fast! So why don’t you quit pussy-footing around and tell me the goddamn truth!?
“I did tell you the goddamn truth!” Hardie’s voice trembled. Did Jessica know? If so, how?
