Crook & Flail

by Maira Isabel Pita

  “Ian, look. See how the oil he’s pouring is drawn as a continuous stream of tiny circles?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s what a flowing liquid really looks like when it’s magnified. It only looks like a continuous stream to the naked eye.”

  “And you want me to ask how the Egyptians could possibly have known that.”

  “Do you have any idea?”

  “Not a clue.”

  They pass through two more halls of columns before coming to the seven sanctuaries at the temple’s heart, which Lucia recognizes from the description in her guidebook.

  The florescent light on the wall across from the last shrine dims and brightens, flickers on and off with a dangerous-sounding electric crackle. The god-lined corridor might very well be a virtual reality set fraying at the edges with real space—a magical fourth dimension—just beyond it.

  It suddenly feels strangely quiet behind her. “Ian?” She turns around and discovers that she is alone with Horus, depicted on the wall beside her in his form of a man with the head of a falcon…who suddenly catches her from behind, his talons digging painfully into her arms as he pulls her into the shrine.

  Mark kisses her angrily, his tongue wrestling with hers and forcing her mouth wide open beneath his until she feels as if their jaws are about to dislocate like those of two snakes swallowing each other whole.

  She manages to wrench herself away from him. “What are you doing here?” she gasps, literally breathless.

  “Kissing you.” Dressed in a white T-shirt and shorts, he almost resembles an ancient Egyptian prince. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “But how did you get here?”

  “I rented a car in Luxor.”

  Ian appears in the doorway. “No one’s coming,” he says.

  “So.” Mark grabs her face with both hands and makes her look at him. “You only pretended to be a widow? You only pretended you’d fallen in love with me? Did Richard have a camera installed in your room? How many times have you two done this anyway? How many other men have fucked you up the ass while he watched?”

  Ian enters the shrine and Lucia suddenly feels as though the earth is opening up beneath her and she is falling too fast to stop herself.

  “That’s enough, Mark.” Ian comes between them.

  “You don’t get it.” Mark steps around him. “If you’re nice to her she doesn’t listen.”

  She closes her eyes when he grabs a fistful of her hair but it doesn’t stop her from seeing where she wants this to go and the desire shames her.

  “Look at her,” Mark says gruffly. “She wants this.”

  “You’re taking advantage of her weakness,” Ian argues very quietly.

  “Did you hear that, princess? He thinks you’re weak because you like taking orders from men.” He rests his hands on her shoulders and easily forces her down to her knees. “I just think you’re beautiful.”

  Ian gently grips one of her arms and pulls her back up to her feet. “I’m sorry, Lucia, I didn’t realize he planned to…” His voice trails off as he stares into her dark eyes like an astronaut floating off into deep space when his line suddenly breaks.

  Mark’s smile is grim. “See what I mean? You’re wasting your time,” he unzips his shorts, “and you’re wasting her… Come here, sweetheart.”

  She falls to her knees before him again.

  “That’s it,” he weaves his fingers possessively through her hair, “suck me.”

  “Jesus!” Ian whispers, but doesn’t look away.

  Her lips slowly and reverently sheathe Mark’s silky force. Blind with the pleasure of it, her eyes open for an instant just to catch a glimpse of his tall, lean body towering over her. The view excites her so much that her guilt at betraying Richard is temporarily crushed by the depth of the fulfillment that washes through her every time Mark dives selfishly into her mouth. He holds her head firmly in his hands, making it impossible for her to resist him when he goes for her throat so that even when he slips out of her mouth for a moment a spider’s thread of his pleasure dangles between her lips and his head… Until Ian puts a finger beneath her chin and breaks it as with one hand he turns her face toward him and with the other reaches for the zipper of his pants.

  “No,” she breathes.

  He hesitates.

  “Slap her,” Mark instructs. “She wants you to because it helps her stop thinking. She doesn’t want to think. She just wants to be fucked as hard and as often as possible. Trust me on this.”

  The tips of Ian’s uncertain fingers flick uncomfortably near the corner of her eye, threatening her sensual trance and frightening her because if she stops to think now…

  “Harder!” Mark says urgently.

  This time there is real feeling in Ian’s blow. Guilt and desire battling inside him, he takes it out on her, and she has the thrill of experiencing his discovery of how good it feels when her skin becomes the battleground.

  She gazes up at his face, letting him know with her eyes that she wants him, that she wants both of them. He quickly unzips his pants and his hard features are framed by his hair’s fiery aura as the forbidden fruit of his head slips between her lips…and then it’s too late, she might as well let his whole cock into her mouth, what the hell.

  She doesn’t regret it. He tastes just as she had imagined he would, clean and smooth. She forgets all about Mark as she concentrates on making Ian as hard as she wants him. But first she has to be able to get at him, she needs all of him in her possession. He isn’t wearing underpants but his pants are still in the way. She pulls them down around his thighs and takes his entire erection into her mouth, hungrily kissing his firm body with her soft lips.

  Groaning, he threads his fingers through her hair but doesn’t take control of her head. He seems willing to let her have her way with him.

  Thrilled by his surrender, she holds on to both his thighs as she starts moving her head up and down his shaft slowly, embracing his erection tightly with her lips while giving her tongue the freedom to savor him.

  After what feels like no time at all, Mark says, “My turn again.”

  “Mm!” she protests, relaxing her jaw so that Ian’s head can kiss her throat for a lovely moment before she has to let him go.

  Mark grabs the hair at the back of her head, pulls her face away from the other man and shoves his own impatient cock into her mouth.

  She braces herself on his thigh with one hand while with the other she grasps the base of his erection and pumps him hard and fast while sucking on his head, impatient for it to be Ian’s turn again. The Irishman’s skin is more like Richard’s, pale and almost delicate over his beautiful cock. He was so delicious that Mark suddenly tastes disappointing. He is also too big, there is barely enough space between her tongue and the roof of her mouth to accommodate his greedy hard-on.

  Ian’s normally pleasant voice is hoarse with passion, “Give her here!”

  Mark laughs beneath his breath but thankfully empties her mouth and steps aside.

  Holding his cock, Ian gently insinuates it between her lips again as she turns her intensely dark gaze up to his face. He meets it with his own deep green stare while slowly planting his cock in her warm mouth and, as always, she is unable to resist this mysterious double penetration. She reaches down and unzips her shorts, desperate to get at her clit and make his pleasure her own.

  “Mm, good idea,” she hears Mark comment as he moves behind her.

  Ian sinks to his knees as though she is sucking the life out of him, draining him of his strength, and she doesn’t even notice scraping her bare knees on the stone floor as she shifts her center of gravity back, aided by Mark as he grabs both her hips and lifts them. Her eyes close beneath a flood of pleasure and anticipation such as she has never known then as he tugs her tight shorts, followed by her cotton bikini panties, down as far as possible. She is then excitingly torn between awareness of her exposed bottom and the immense satisfaction of Ian’s cock passionately embrac
ed by her lips.

  “What if…” His voice catches as she concentrates her tongue’s efforts around the base of his head. “Somebody comes?”

  “Nobody’s coming except us,” Mark replies shortly.

  She wonders if he plans to fuck her ass again but then feels him center himself at the slick entrance to her cunt. Surprised, she moans from the profound pleasure she experiences when he thrusts into her. He penetrates her deeply, opening her tight depths up around him as his lean, strong hips move back and forth swiftly, selfishly, and the vibration of cries rising up from her throat subtly contributes to Ian’s stimulation. She has never experienced anything like this, her mouth and her pussy both so full of cock that she almost feels sick from the intensity of the fulfillment. Like a little girl gorging on candy, she doesn’t care at all that she will be punished for this later because all that matters is the unbelievable sweetness of having one cock driving into her pussy and another cock fucking her mouth. Her hands slip from Ian’s firm thighs onto the hard floor to brace herself and she makes a purring sound deep in her laboring throat as she crouches like a cat on the temple floor.

  Her knees are screaming, her hipbones ache where Mark’s thumbs and fingers dig into her skin as he rides her, Ian’s semen-slick head seeking her throat’s caress forces her into a serious battle with her gag reflex, yet nothing has ever felt so good as this relentless stroking from every possible direction. Suspended between two men intent on getting themselves off, two men plugging all their energy into her wet and welcoming flesh, her discomforts dissolve in the flood of satisfaction surging between her womb and her throat.

  Ian comes first, pumping his hips in her face and controlling her head to keep her face riding up and down his throbbing penis as he fills her mouth with sperm.

  Mark declares, “Now it’s my turn.”

  She quickly swallows the evidence of Ian’s pleasure as he yields his place to his friend.

  “Come on, baby.” Mark grabs her head and shoves his cock between her lips, trusting her to remove the barricade of her teeth, which she does even though she resents having Ian’s arousing taste suddenly replaced by the flavor of her own juices. He fucks her mouth without restraint, going for all the sensations in her throat. Her whole being centered on the excruciating exercise, she doesn’t realize Ian has knelt behind her until his still-rigid cock suddenly dives into her soaking cunt. It is such an unexpected blessing that when he slips his hand around to her clitoris and starts rubbing it she begins coming. She puts her mouth on autopilot for Mark as she focuses on the feel of Ian’s still-firm penis sliding in and out of her as he generously lets her brace her unfolding climax on him.

  Mark empties her mouth abruptly. “Oh yes!” he hisses and proceeds to decorate her face with white hot streaks of sperm just as her own orgasm crests around Ian’s deep strokes and crashes through her. The intense pleasure ebbs gradually, leaving her feeling totally wiped out and breathless. Then a second climax overwhelms her when Ian starts thrashing inside her like a drowning man, coming again as Mark breathlessly finishes baptizing her features with the foam of their combined pleasure.

  * * * * *

  “Jesus!” Ian zips his pants back up and smoothes his hair back away from his face as if trying to see straight. “Fuck!”

  “You know what they say,” Mark gently wipes the corners of her mouth with the end of his shirt as though she is a child they just fed, “that Mary Magdalene was his lover.”

  Gripped by a sense of unreality, Lucia is afraid to separate herself from his solid warmth. Her life is over and yet, horribly enough, she has also lost her soul. She forsook the eternity of Richard’s love for a mouthful of worms. “Oh God!” She clutches Mark’s shirt and buries her features in his chest.

  “It’s all right, baby.” His arms come around her protectively. “No one’s throwing any stones at you. Did you enjoy that?”

  Her voice is muffled against him. “Yes.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Everything!”

  “She’s right, Mark, everything’s wrong with what we just—”

  “Stop sounding like a fucking Catholic schoolboy. You just came inside her and now you’re feeding her this guilt shit. Give her a break.”

  “I’m sorry, Lucia.”

  She rests her cheek against Mark’s chest and looks over at Ian. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry.”

  The sudden anger in his green eyes looks dangerous as a spark deep in a forest. “But aren’t you afraid Richard will find out about this?” he asks cruelly.

  “Personally,” Mark says, “I’m counting on it.”

  “Even though, as an unfaithful wife, she probably won’t be entitled to a cent of his money?”

  “She’s rich anyway…but that’s not even the point. I told you I didn’t give a fuck about her money didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did, Mark. I guess a small, cynical part of me didn’t believe you.”

  “If any part of you is going to be small,” she remarks, “better it be the cynical part.”

  Mark laughs and tightens his hold on her. “God, you’re beautiful.” He almost sounds angry.

  “It’s not true, Mark,” she confesses abruptly. “I wasn’t using you. I didn’t know Richard was alive.”

  “Fucking bastard,” Ian curses beneath his breath. “Why the hell were you covering for him, Lucia?”

  “Because she was in shock,” Mark explains.

  “What the hell happens now?” Ian demands.

  “That’s up to her. She can either go back to Richard or she can come with me.”

  Lucia struggles to recapture her desire to live in the vacuum created by the thought of truly losing Richard, forever this time. “I can’t just leave all my things behind,” she protests.

  “Why not?” Mark says. “They’re just things.”

  “Don’t push her.” There is nothing casual about Ian’s assertiveness. “She’ll do what she wants to.”

  “The hell she will. She’ll do what I tell her to. She lost her willpower a long time ago. It’s dead and buried and there’s no bringing it back. Believe me, I tried.”

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I intend to replace Richard’s will with mine. She’ll answer to me now because I’m the one who really loves her.”

  “You’re as bad as he is.”

  “Not really, but I can pretend to be, for her sake.”

  “You mean you’ll cut her dose of abuse down to less dangerous levels but still keep her addicted?”

  “Until she doesn’t need it anymore.”

  “I’ll meet you in Luxor, Mark,” she desperately grabs for the reins, “I need time to…end things.”

  “That settles it,” Ian’s tone brooks no argument. “I’m taking her back to the boat now.”

  Mark doesn’t let go of her. “No way, I’m not leaving her again. He might really hurt her this time.”

  “She’ll be all right—I’ll see to that.”

  Richard will never forgive her for what she just did. Her betrayal is so complete however that it transcends any possible jealousy on his part. He will simply cease to love her. And if he no longer loves her he might not feel compelled to kill her. Yet the loss of his love will only want to make her kill herself.

  “I shouldn’t have walked out on you that night, Lucia.” Mark strokes her hair as if gently waking a dreaming child. “I’m sorry. But I needed time to think and to deal with the fact that your husband is still alive. But I’m sure now. You’re mine.”

  * * * * *

  Lucia and Ian make it out to the bus just in time to casually follow everyone back onboard. Her knees ache a little from kneeling on the temple’s stone floor and her emotions are in such an upheaval she trips on one of the steps.

  Ian is right behind her. “Steady there.” His hands fall lightly on her hips for a moment that Ellen, sitting in the front seat, does not fail to notice.

  Lucia takes refuge i
n a windowseat at the very back of the bus.

  Ian sits down beside her, on the aisle, and respects her silence as the bus starts moving slowly away from the temple.

  She stares out at the smooth flesh of the desert and relives those impossibly hot and elusively transcendent moments when her lips seemed to take on the power of the world’s horizons by completely capturing two men’s souls between them.

  After about five minutes Ian leans gently into her. “Are you okay?”

  She turns her head to look at him and the exciting proximity of his mouth shocks her like a live wire. “I don’t know,” she answers truthfully, but a subtle fire radiates up from her womb as he holds her eyes for a delicious moment that makes her forget the fear chilling her to the core.

  “I’ve never done anything like that before, Lucia,” he says, glancing up the aisle, but no one is paying any attention to them and he adds in a whisper, “I want to kiss you.”

  His yieldingly firm lips press against hers then his breath teases her desire like wind in a sail as he sits back in his seat again.

  “Have you ever been to Atlanta, Lucia?” He reaches into his shirt pocket.

  “No.” She watches him light a cigarette, entranced by the shine of the flame reflecting back from his hair. “I think you’d like it.” He tosses the match away carelessly. “I’ve got a condo in Ansley Park, rolling hills and hundred-year-old trees in the middle of the city. Used to be Indian territory.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Ellen just gave me a look,” he murmurs, “and so did that fat frau. I guess they don’t approve of my filthy habit.” He flicks ashes defiantly into the aisle. “Seriously, Lucia, if you need to get away, I live alone and mi casa es su casa.”

  She falls hard against him as the tire directly beneath her sinks into a pothole then spins out again with a lurch.

  “Thanks, Ian.”

  He holds her eyes again through the smoke. “I feel like I’m helping to ruin your life.”

  She doesn’t know what to say, or even think.

  “I’ve known Mark for years,” he looks away again, “at least I thought I did. I’m not so sure anymore.” He stares down at the cigarette in his lap. “If I was in love with a woman,” he takes a drag and exhales it thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t share her.”