by KT Morrison
She heard the bedroom door open down the hall and bristled. Now she had to face him as well. Omar came into the kitchen with a grin, wearing a pair of faded boxers and a t-shirt. He said good morning to her, his eyes travelling from hers down to her bare feet. She felt strangely naked in front of him, just a loosely tied belt keeping her robe from opening and exposing everything to him. She smiled at him, a little bashful. He put his hand on her cheek, and she leaned into it but couldn't look at him.
"You look beautiful," he said.
She held his wrist, felt a little uncomfortable, a little too intimate being affectionate like that, barely dressed and so close. And Mitch was just out on the patio, he wouldn't want to see this.
She turned her back to him and poured a coffee, then one for him.
"So what happens today?" He leaned on the counter next to her.
"I think we can do whatever we want now," she said. He smiled, still staring. She didn't mean anything.
"Maybe we could just stay on the beach today."
"Yeah, I'd like that," she said, brushing a strand of wet hair back behind her ear.
"Good," he said, energetically, pleased with the news. He went to the fridge and opened it, picked out a carton of half and half. She looked at him, how trim he was, his muscular arms. He walked back and asked her if she'd like cream. She shook her head, but she'd been watching the movement behind his boxers, the swinging against the fabric she could see while he walked.
He took a sip of his coffee, leaning on an elbow on the high counter next to her. Not saying anything, but watching her. It made her so nervous.
"Mitch is just out on the patio," she said.
"He likes to watch, yes?" She felt him touch the corner of her robe where it met her thigh and she flinched. He pulled back a corner, the thick terry snagging on the belt and leaving a narrow gap where her thighs came together. She felt the cold there, damp against her, knowing her mound was exposed.
He brushed her cheek, said, "We can show him many more things now that we're lovers. Make him crazy." She shivered at the thought.
He let his hand slowly fall between her legs, touched her lightly there and she opened up for him. He ran his big finger along her, parting her puckered folds, working her apart easily.
He brought his finger up and touched her lip very softly, and she felt the wet against it. He picked up his coffee, said it again, “Make him crazy," and walked back to his room.
Kate adjusted the front of the robe, covered herself up. Stood there, for a minute, waiting. She didn't know where to go.
Alone
1
Callaway Seven
The ball hooked into the palm trees over by the snack venue and disappeared into the brush without a sound. For fuck’s sake, he said out loud.
No one around to hear him, Mitch had gone out on his own. The foursome ahead of him had asked him to join in but he politely declined. Then the ones behind did the same.
He needed alone time. Just a little time away. He’d only been out on a course once this year, just not as much free time as he used to. He thought he’d pretty much given up on golf, noticed his clubs before they’d come here, about a week ago, noticed the film of dust that was on them. He just needed something to do to get away from them all. Get the hell out of that suite.
He told Kate he was going to come out, play a round, see if he could get a tee time. She said he should ask Omar to go along. The fucking nerve. What was that? So he just left without saying anything to anyone, slipped out the door and closed it behind him. He felt free, weightless on the drive here. It was kind of liberating to just go do something, no one knowing where the fuck you were. Even if it was just down the street for nine holes.
He’d skipped the course at the resort and drove down to another course, just in case Kate would send Omar down to catch up with him or something. It was one thing to allow your wife to have a lover, but he wasn’t going to be able to be friendly with Omar. Omar was like an object to him. Hopefully to Kate too. Her sexy plaything that was part of their lovemaking. Mitch’s and Kate’s.
He figured the worst was over, this business with Kate. He’d got himself through it all right he thought. That was horrible though. Kate was on him this morning, going down on him on the balcony while he had his tea. It felt nice to have her back.
Mitch didn’t get a cart, wanted to walk around a bit today, shake some of the creaks out. He got down to the bushes where he’d seen the ball go and started poking around underneath them, lifting up the branches with his seven iron. A seven would get him to the green as long as he found his fucking ball.
He heard two voices around the other side of the little cabana where they served cold drinks, even alcoholic ones. A full-figured young girl came around, black vest over a white dress shirt, shorts. A server.
“Looking for this?” she said, smiling, holding out a golf ball in her thumb and forefinger.
“Callaway Seven?” he said, but knew it was his.
She looked at it and handed it to him.
“I didn’t get anybody with it did I?”
She walked backwards to her little hut, laughing, said “It went off a few trees like a pinball, but everyone’s okay. Care for a drink?”
He did. “I’ll be by, just let me play out of here.”
He watched her walk around and open a little door to the bar. He threw his ball out into the rough.
He hoped that the big thing Omar had between his legs had exorcised Kate’s demon and that things could return to normal. As surprisingly erotic and arousing as he had found it, what he had witnessed had a profound effect on him. Challenged all of his sexual confidence. Moving on from here, being intimate with his wife could feel a little tricky.
He’d never seen Kate like that. Literally, not philosophically. He’d never watched himself penetrate her, had never seen her sex spread by a penis. The first time was last night, and she had been spread wide by a penis so large that she squealed as it went in. He saw another man push it into her hairy mound—something he thought of as his, existentially belonging to him—split her, force her dark lips apart and pull her pink insides out with it as he fucked her.
He walked out to his ball and leaned on his club, waited for the foursome to clear off the green. He couldn’t deny though that a part of him felt truly happy for her. Happy that she experienced something that gave her so much pleasure. Maybe he shouldn’t have been there to see it. That would have been far worse though, wouldn’t it? Intimate, too personal. As disgusting as it was it was better than to be separated from it.
The next time they made love was going to be a big hurdle. He didn’t really look forward to it. What if it was a repeat of his performance with Kiley? The mental connection to his intimacy with Kate could be shaken. He’d seen some things that just couldn’t be erased. He had to push thoughts like that out of his mind, he knew that. Just considering it could allow it to come in and challenge him at the worst possible time.
He focused on his ball, wiggled, pushed everything away, swung through, felt a satisfying power in his contact with the little Callaway Seven. He watched it arc tall and straight, drop on the green and roll a dozen feet. Just a short little tap to the hole. That’s it, keep your head in the game Mitch.
Six years with Kate. Six wonderful, loving years. Deep down under her surface he figured he always knew what was lurking. It was, in many ways, what had attracted him to her. The darkness she held inside, her attraction to destruction.
Kate looked out over the grounds from the patio but she didn’t see him out there. He must have gone golfing. Maybe he said bye at the door and no one heard him. She hoped so. He was fine this morning. He seemed like he’d come through okay. He ran her bath, and when she went down on him he came pretty fast. He had seemed light and happy.
She shrugged it off. He’d been fine. He’s just gone golfing.
At ten o’clock she’d got dressed and had some breakfast by herself. Kiley was still on the couch out in the main room and Ka
te listened to the television while she ate. Omar was still in bed. She could go shopping, get herself out of here, spend half a day walking around the boutiques down Seven Mile. She’d like it if she could just go in and sit with Kiley like nothing happened. She might have put Kiley through the wringer last night. She came out to the patio feeling like the silence in there was feeling a bit too heavy, a bit too obvious.
The last she’d spent time with Kiley was the week after she’d come out of the hospital. Kiley flew in from Chicago and stayed at their place in Campden Hill, living out of her suitcase but sleeping on the couch in Mitch’s home office.
They’d stay up late with a bottle of wine and talk about old times. Flick through pictures of themselves in school, just ten years ago but they seemed like different people. They looked like different people.
Kate felt Kiley’s arms come around her from behind and hug her, resting her head on her shoulder. She swelled with relief, glad her friend was okay.
“How are you, pet?”
“I’m good,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m just feeling a bit weird this morning.”
“You and me both,” Kate said, putting her hands up to hold Kiley’s slight wrists.
“Sorry, I don’t want things to be weird.”
“I get it. We’ll take our time.” She turned around and faced her. She felt a little uncomfortable, face to face, so close. She felt ashamed. Or felt like Kiley was ashamed for her maybe.
Kate took a seat on the edge of a lounger, sat with her hands in her lap. Kiley sat down across from her, shoulders up, hands on the wooden edge, looking out over the Sea.
“Are you still okay with it? Me with Mitch,” she said.
“Yeah, of course.” Kate looked out over the water with her, waited a minute. “Was I too much?”
Kiley laughed softly, said, “Well, I don’t know. It was, you know, great. Intense.”
“What do you think Mitch is feeling?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine. I saw you two on the balcony this morning.”
“Sorry.”
“No, no. I was glad. You two were...you seemed good.”
“Do you think he liked it? Me with Omar—in any way?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t.” She sat up straight, fluffed up her hair, looked right at her.
“Did he look away?”
She was quiet for a moment. “No, not once actually.”
Kate was patient, letting her think about it. “I think he doesn’t want to like it.”
“But he does?” Kiley sat back crossed her legs. “When it was happening—Kate, it was extreme—I don’t know how he could watch it, but he...” she leaned forward and whispered, “he was hard the whole time.”
Kate nodded.
“Did you like it? With Omar. I mean, I know what I saw...”
“Yes, I did indeed. I was holding back too. But yes, it was—“
“Overwhelming?”
“Yeah. You’re still okay with it?”
“You with Omar? Yeah, right as rain.”
“You sure?”
“Just cause you can’t stop thinking about him doesn’t mean I can’t. I don’t think I’ve even touched him since we got here.”
“I’m glad.”
Kiley was feeling better, glad she’d breached that awkward silence with Kate. Coming into this had been a strange endeavour. Her best friend wanted a particular sexual experience. Wanted Kiley to help her. Talk it out with her. Mitch had a little shortcoming Kate thought. That was fair enough, she considered. Kate had thought of maybe bringing multiple partners into their relationship. For Mitch as well as her. Kiley got that, people did do that. Later when Kate tested the waters, hinted around finding someone they could trust and the like, Kiley picked up on it. Thought about it carefully: is that what Kate was hinting at it? She offered to Kate, days later, asked her Would you trust me? Kate was relieved, said of course she would, and Kiley felt glad for her. Kate asked her about the guy she’d dated previous, the one whose picture she’d sent. Kiley was embarrassed that she’d sent it, had hoped Kate forgot about it. She wasn’t the kind of girl who did that with her friends. But she was in a different place at the time, sexually charged by her brief relationship with Omar. And that picture—Omar’s size was definitely noteworthy.
Then the ball was rolling, Kate putting plans into action. Now here she was sat in a real mess, she felt like. Seeing her friend like that, and having her husband, Kiley’s own good friend, inside her. It worked better as a conversation about a future possibility, and it was frankly quite ugly in practice. She felt for Mitch. Did he like it? Did he hate it? How could a man like it, seeing his wife like that? It felt like a little more than she had bargained for when she offered. Maybe she had pictured something nicer, maybe less pornographic. She’d had one threesome a long time ago, a foursome too, one summer in Spain after college. Those times had been hot, but also...loving. They were tender experiences, everyone involved was gentle, touching, exploring, teasing. High on Molly though.
She looked at her friend, sitting next to her looking up at the overcast sky, broad and blank—she was lost in thought. Her lucky friend, who always got what she wanted. Made it happen for herself. Never afraid of consequences. Her multi-million pound apartment near Notting Hill, Bentley, Range Rover, jewelry, Chanel...and when that wasn’t enough? When she wanted to have sex with a well-hung stud—she got that too. She was amazing.
Kate asked her, without turning, still looking out off the balcony, “What if I want to see if Mitch liked it?”
“How’d you mean?”
“Like maybe I want to push him farther.”
Kiley covered her whole face with her hands, spoke through them, “Push him farther than last night?”
Kate didn’t answer, just kept watching the sky above the sea. Grey today, dull but warm.
Kiley thought about it a moment. Kate always loved chaos. She acted like she hated it, like she couldn’t believe these terrible things always happened to her. But she brought it on herself. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“No, but I want to know.”
“Just ask him, Kate.”
“Mitch isn’t like that, you know how he is. If I asked him he’d say of course not, that’s crazy. But if I showed him? Watched him react?”
“But what does it matter?”
“I want him to like it.”
Kate put a pale pink caftan with an embroidered collar over her head and shimmied into it. She looked at herself in the long wide mirrored vanity in her bathroom. She turned, checking herself out over her shoulder. The coverup was silky and she could see the dark shapes of her bikini underneath. She put her sunglasses up on her head, picked up her towel and went down the hall.
“Well,” she said, “shall we go?”
Omar was sitting in the wing back chair, the same as last night when she’d helped peel his shorts down and been a breath away from the huge thing she’d been fantasizing about for months. She felt a little shaken seeing him sitting in the same chair, in the same manner, even though he was fully clothed. Although he was wearing those revealing swimming briefs again. Omar clicked the television off and got up, dramatically relieved that they were finally going.
“Well, it’s been a few hours, he can’t be much longer. He’ll be back any minute,” Kiley said, standing at the bar in a long T-shirt, bikini underneath.
“He’ll find us,” Kate said.
Omar picked up his towel as Kiley walked over. Kiley looked down at his skimpy trunks, his bulge large and obvious, just below the bottom of his striped short-sleeve shirt. “It’s not that warm out there. You’re wearing those trunks?”
“It is warm. Not sunny. I’m going into the ocean.”
Kiley looked at him, expressionless. “The sea.”
Omar held his hand up, dismissing her and walked to the door. “It’s all the same water.”
“The ocean is past the sea,” Kiley
said.
“All the same water.”
Mitch had been gone for about five hours now. No call, nothing. His phone was in the bedroom. She wasn’t desperate enough to go looking for him, but she did feel a bit of worry creeping around the edges. This wasn’t really like him.
“Let’s go,” Kate said, her mind made up. She wanted to get out of the suite too.
“You sure?” Kiley looked a bit upset, standing there on the edges of her feet, one arm across her, gripping the other elbow.
“I just want to go have some fun, Kiley,” she said.
“Maybe I could stay here and we’ll join up with you.”
“That’s a great idea—stay here and Omar and I can go down together. You and Mitch can catch up when he gets home.”
Kiley stood thinking for a moment, looked at Omar, looked over at Kate, then said, “Naw, I’ll just come along. I’ll leave him a note.”
“You don’t have to love, stay for him. He’d like that.”
Kiley went back to the bar and scrawled out a big note for him on a hotel letterhead pad. “It’s done. Let’s just go,” she said, slapping the pen down on the bar with finality and caught back up with them.
Mitch stopped for a cold one in the bar off the lobby before he headed up to the room. He felt a lot better. Looser. He just played the nine one time, then went and had a drink at the bar where his ball had been retrieved.
He’d missed lunch but he figured he’d take them all out for an early dinner, maybe try something new somewhere along Seven Mile. He’d helped himself to some of the peanuts at the bar to help him through.
He got to the suite, walked through and saw that it was empty. He went to the bar and found there was a scrap of paper with Kiley’s very feminine handwriting on it, said: Hey Mitch, we’re all down at the beach, come and join us! Love you.
He poured himself a gin and tonic, even cutting a real lemon, noticed the colour he’d got on his arms at the course today. He took it into the bath with him and ran a hot shower, kicked off his golf clothes and got in with his drink. He put his head under the water and stood like that a good while feeling the water running down him.
