by Aven Jayce
“Who’s getting some of this tonight?” His voice is low and commanding, his walk dominant and fierce. “Who’s gonna take my stiff cock? Two, three, four times. Who wants me?”
Women raise their hands, cheer, whistle, and paw his abs as he walks by. It’s a mad house.
“Whoa.” Jess inhales. “Eeek!” She’s lifted over his shoulder, her red thong and dimpled butt fat surfacing as she’s carried off.
“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” she shouts over a crowd of twenty applauding women. “Or a week!”
“She’s a strange one.” I shake my head. “But definitely entertaining.”
“Life would be bland if we were all the same.”
“True.” I lean back as my salad’s served and my wine’s refilled.
“Enjoy the pool and the beautiful grounds tonight, but promise me I won’t wake up and find you passed out at the bar,” Nadine requests.
I nod.
“Promise?”
“Okay. If I pass out, I’ll make sure I’m in my room.”
“Addie.”
“I swear I’ll be all right. I’m not abusing liquor like I used to. I’m better... I’m getting better. I’ll stop after this one. Besides,” I swirl the liquid in the glass, “the guy poured such a small amount. See. Teeny-tiny.”
We hear Brian laugh and Nadine bites her lip to stop a twitch, same as my mom used to do. The Moore women have twitchy lips. Plump, too, but most people are drawn to our broad blue eyes, not the lips.
“Do you consider this cheating?” I question, grimacing at Brian’s hand on the woman’s leg. “I know I would if I were married.”
“It can be to some,” she whispers.
“What about you?”
She offers a weak smile, touching my cheek like I’m too young and innocent to understand. “We love each other. Most of the time, we do. I guess it’s hard for you to comprehend what’s going on. All I can say is we need this. We’ve been married for nineteen years and making love isn’t the same as it used to be. Not terrible, but not exciting either. Think of this trip like buying new clothes and getting your hair cut in the spring—a pick me up.” She looks at Brian. “Sometimes you have to open the curtains and allow the sun to warm your face. You know?”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Well, if I were doing this on my own, or if Brian was, yes, then I’d call it cheating.”
“And because you both agree, it’s not? That’s fucked up.”
She pauses to think of a better response.
“Don’t worry about it, Nadine. I was just curious about your feelings. Hiding the obvious makes me feel unimportant, like you can’t open up and speak the truth in front of me.”
“This isn’t a masquerade. I’m being completely honest with you.” She twists her wedding ring. “Both Brian and I feel that this is part of our marriage. Without it we’d be dried up, disagreeable mutts with no release from reality. Just wait ‘til you’re with a guy for two decades. You’ll see. There’re only a lucky few who are suited to be with one person, and the rest of us wish those fully satisfied princes and princesses would be more open-minded.”
I hit a sore spot. The protruding vein on her neck is a bad sign.
“We do this together.” Her freshly painted pink fingernails tap the table. “No secrets.” Tap. “These evenings are planned.” Tap.
“Okay.” I observe the couples dining at each table and try to think of a new subject. I don’t want to ruin her night. “You’re next.”
“What?”
“Everyone’s taken. You’re the last one.”
“Huh.” There’s an amplified pitch in her voice and increased breaths. “How’s my hair?” She bends over and fluffs it, jerking her head upward for fuller body. “My lipstick okay?”
I’m amused by her sudden enthusiasm, an instant change. My aunt’s pretty mellow, but becomes crazed when she drinks... and I guess when she’s about to get laid, too. “Your lipstick’s perfect. It matches your fingernails.”
“Makeup?”
“No smudges, fresh and modest. I think you look good.”
She drops her shoulders with an open mouth. “Are you sure? Or do you think I look like a slut?”
“You are a slut.” I laugh. “All three of you are.”
“Phweeep!” Jess whistles, getting our attention then motioning toward the bar.
“Oh boy, my pulse is racing. I can’t turn around. Is he there? Tell me what he looks like.”
“Dark outfit, stylish, clean-cut, and he’s got a gun. Who is it?”
“Shaved head?”
“Uh-huh, did you pick a cop?”
“His name’s Sean. He’s been my fantasy heartthrob for years.”
“Hey, girl,” he calls out, crossing his arms with his feet apart in an assertive stance. “Come talk to me.”
My hand’s patted and under a whale of a breath, she says, “Here goes nothing.”
“Have fun.”
“Lay off the booze,” she orders, slipping a mint into her mouth and fixing a twisted bra strap on her way to the bar. She gets a high-five from Jess and raised glasses from the women she passes. Her smile’s wide, face vibrant, and Sean’s thrilled. He... holy shit.
“Nice!” Jess yells, as he makes a move. No handshake. No hello. Nadine’s hugged and they suck face. That fast. Instant contact.
Her glass slips from her hand, shattering on the stone patio as her black heel lifts behind her back. It’s like a classic ‘40s movie kiss.
“Totally nice!” Jess hoots.
Their lips unlock and the act’s amplified with an overstated fanning of her face, in need of a cool down. He grips her ass and she’s escorted to a table, far away from Brian.
I’m surprised they didn’t skip dinner and go straight to her room to fuck.
Sean’s hypnotism over Nadine is instant, Tyler’s cackle counters Jess’s boisterous laugh, and the black cat’s thigh is shrouded by Brian’s hefty hand. They’ve disappeared for the night. Spellbound. Lost with their play dates.
I’m left with three vacant chairs and an empty bottle of wine, plus Roxanne’s watchful eye—that woman’s starting to creep me out. She’s off to the side, leaning against the building with a cigarette hanging from her mouth, every few minutes flicking the ashes into the darkening sky. Her looming presence makes me uneasy. She blows smoke toward Quinn and the other servers as they come and go through an exterior door—the end of her cigarette glowing with each inhale.
Staring at me.
Her chin is up.
Never turning away.
Intimidating.
She’s a vamp.
“Stop,” I murmur, stabbing the lettuce in frustration. This is so uncomfortable. I push the plate away and lift the empty bottle of wine, twisting it in the air. She needs a distraction and I’d like one final glass for the night. And not a drop like the last serving. More please, I mouth.
But the response is from Quinn, searching for a bottle behind the bar.
“Make it quick.” Her raspy, domineering voice instructs, getting no response. “Did you hear me, Quinn?” The cigarette’s smothered under her heel before she heads over and clutches his arm. “She didn’t pay.”
“I hope she doesn’t,” he says, changing her ruling expression to anger.
“Don’t disrespect me.” Her jaw clenches. “Not here, not now, not ever.”
“Fuck off.”
There’s a short pause before she smacks his face with the back of her hand.
I straighten in the chair, alarmed. Did anyone else see that? Or are they too far adrift in la-la land? Fuck! She did it again. And he’s just standing there with his chest out and a big grin, taunting her. Several women clap, thinking it’s another performance.
“If the wine’s the problem, I’ll pay for it,” I say, loud enough for her to hear without disturbing the mass of guests.
She takes the bottle and massage
s his red cheek. The action appears motherly, but also provocative, and by his taut muscles and shaking head I can tell he’s annoyed. Each word spoken in his ear causes more tension until he jerks away.
She’s pleased with his reaction, walking toward me with swinging arms and a clink of her heels on the patio stone. “Everything’s included with your room except for the men.” She places the wine on the table and leans closer, insuring wandering ears don’t hear. “Quinn shouldn’t have spoken to you earlier, and he shouldn’t be speaking to you now. This is a business. He’s not free.” Smokey breath and long fingers trail my bare arm—the warm summer night iced over by her measured words. She glares over her shoulder, seeing him waiting with crossed arms. “That young man has an exceptional touch... attentive hands that work every single muscle... penetrating deep into your most desired flesh. Deep,” she hints. “I guarantee he’ll take away your aches and pains, leaving you with a spectacular afterglow.”
Her fingers perform a tantalizing walk to my shoulder, inducing a shiver when they reach my neck.
“Enjoy your stay, Ms. Adlyn Moore.”
Chapter Three
INTRUSION
The memory of that final night before my mom was killed is set on repeat in my head... every day... never diminishing... never permitting peace.
“I’LL BE GENTLE,” he says, sliding his finger out of me. “You ready?”
The red candle flickers on my nightstand, casting a soft glow onto our nude bodies. I’m nervous and my stomach’s in a knot, but I nod, turning away when I see the condom wrapper. The crinkling lasts longer than I had imagined. He didn’t rip it open with his teeth and start fucking me within five seconds like in the movies. The wait seems to last minutes, too long when it’s your first time. I don’t want to think. I just want to do it.
“Please hurry,” I whisper.
He rolls it on with our lips pressed together... I can do this... the bed creaks when he shifts on top... it won’t hurt... my legs are spread open by his knees.
“Relax,” he says.
His erection touches my clit and I inhale, my inner-thigh muscles tightening as he slides his length further down.
“It’ll be okay. Promise.”
He tries to part me, striving to push inside, but my hands grip his hips, holding him back.
“Sorry.” My voice is jittery. Let it happen. Deep breaths. It’s time.
“Addie. Trust me.” He nudges. “Relax. Please.”
“Just wait.” I’m embarrassed to look at him, focusing on the candle instead of his face. I want to do this, but I’ve been overthinking it. Anticipating what should and shouldn’t happen, and it’s not playing out like my dreams. There’s no laughter or passion. He’s not saying he loves me. My expectations of this moment shouldn’t have been so high.
“Just give me a sec,” I say.
I’m not apprehensive about giving head, and I’ve heard I’m good at it, too. Fucking amazing... that’s what my boyfriends have said. It’s because of all the practice I’ve had. I’ve spent my time pleasing guys with my hands and my mouth, over and over, time and time again—a blowjob queen. And I’ll let guys finger me and eat me out. I fucking love oral sex. None of that’s a big deal. It’s this penetration thing that makes me nervous. It’s all about getting it in.
Maybe I should lick his dick and give him a finger swirl in his ass... only that’s not enough anymore. He needs more. And I should need more.
“Talk to me,” he says. “What’s wrong? I thought we were gonna do this?”
“I think... I just... I’m sorry. I’m stressed it won’t be perfect.”
He smiles, skimming my chin with the back of his hand. “Stop thinking and start feeling.” Our mouths part and tongues meet, his hand moving down my side. He rubs his dick along my opening, wetting the tip before advancing, trying to get inside.
I squeeze against him, making it difficult for both of us. Restricting any entry.
“I’m gonna push in. Okay?”
I steady myself, irritated that I’m being so rigid. “Do it.”
My fingernails dig into the blanket while he drives in, triggering a pinch and a loud “oww!”
“Shhh, shh-shh. It’s okay. It’ll get better. Give it a minute.” He slides in and out as I bite my bottom lip, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling. I’m stretched wider with each lunge, and my inner flesh tugs when he glides back. It’s uncomfortable at first, but he’s right, it does get better.
“Yes,” he moans. His mouth falls open, his eyes close, and his cheeks turn red. “Yes. Yes.”
The movements grow wilder, his groin rubbing over mine in short thrusts, much faster than I envisioned. The bed squeaks. He takes quick breaths. Faster. Harder. He grabs my ass with both hands as his stomach stiffens.
“Fuck...”
The lengthy slides change to short pounds before he powers forward one last time.
The room’s silent.
His arms give out.
And he collapses as he cums.
“Damn it.” He exhales heavily against my shoulder. “I couldn’t last once I got inside.”
“It was good,” I lie. “Not as bad as my friends said it would be.”
“So we can do it again?” He pulls out and kisses my neck. “Tomorrow?”
“Well, well, well... isn’t life full of surprises?”
“Mom!”
• • •
My mom was furious, my boyfriend ran out, and I felt like trash, and not just because I got caught fucking in my childhood bedroom, but because I lied to her about what I was doing that night. I said we were seeing a movie, not screwing in my room. She detested liars, and this situation truly got to her.
I never had a chance to tell her I was sorry. After her bedroom door slammed in my face, she mumbled that we’d talk in the morning... right after her jog.
Weeks later, when I told Nadine what happened before her death, she mentioned my mom had caught my dad with a woman. Same scenario. Walking in on him cheating in their home. It’s why they divorced. The memory must’ve been another reason she exploded that night... I just didn’t know. It felt so wrong. And now I wish I could take it all back. He wasn’t the right guy. It wasn’t the right time... and I know when I meet a man I’m wild about the nerves and reluctance will disappear. I’m sure of that.
And I can’t stop thinking it was my fault. My mom wasn’t paying attention to who was around during her jog because she was thinking about the night before. She might still be alive if she weren’t so focused on my lies. I distracted her. I fucked up.
“Fuck.” I pace in my suite, upset after spending the last three hours flip-flopping between thoughts of her and this guy Quinn. And the sole reason he’s in my head is because he’s so goddamn hot. I hate the way my mind works—allowing my brain to take a backseat to my pussy. Talk about superficial. I should at least get a last name before I start thinking about his dick. An attraction’s one thing, but there has to be more.
All this relationship and sex stuff is frustrating, not to mention confusing when you have such awful role models. The way my mom’s generation views love has me questioning what I want from a guy. She lived a solitary life, never trusting men or dating until the month before she died. Jess acts like a dick-hungry teenager. And Brian and Nadine sleep around, but don’t consider it cheating. They’re broken. That’s not gonna last. And my friends back in Jersey are all going the “friends with benefits” route. I’m on an entirely different path than them, looking for devotion and loyalty. To me, a hot dog’s more enjoyable when it comes with a bun and condiments.
“You stupid fuck. Why the hell did you say that?”
Tyler’s voice rages outside my open window. Quinn’s pushed toward the pool, stuck in a headlock, swinging to get free. They struggle, knocking over loungers and small tables.
“Asscock! Show some respect. She’s our mom for Christ’s sake.” Tyler shoves him
into the water and stands erect with his arms on his hips, letting out his signature malicious laugh. A glob of spit hits the stone patio as he clutches his nuts like he’s some tough guy, waiting for Quinn to surface... gifted with a middle finger when he does.
“Do it again, buddy, I dare you. I’ll break that finger right off and stick it up your ass.”
He tries to crawl out, but Tyler’s bare foot lands on his forehead and he’s driven back in.
“Cool off... and make sure you apologize to her in the morning.”
“What a shithead,” I mutter.
“Tyler!” Roxanne walks out, her tits bobbing under an open black silk robe. Smeared lipstick... tangled black hair... holding a pack of cigarettes. I’d say she just got laid. “I told you not to do this again. Next time you cause a scene—”
“I just came down for a smoke.”
She puts a cigarette in his mouth like he’s some helpless invalid, even lighting it for the bastard.
“Three minutes then get back upstairs.”
“I already gave it to her twice, the chick’s out cold.” He inhales, pointing to a second-story window. “I’m done with that one for the night. She’s not even shaved.”
She clutches his jaw and the cigarette drops, sending a trail of orange ashes into the pool. “You’re not finished until morning. Six o’clock, no sooner. You understand?” She squeezes until he nods, releasing him with a violent motion before looking down at Quinn. “And you,” she orders, “you better stop provoking him.”
“I didn’t do jackshit.” He floats to the opposite side, removing his shirt and jeans and hurling the wet clothing onto a lounger. “Cocksucker.”
“That’s right dipshit, nice comeback.” Tyler grabs his dick. “My cock gets sucked every night, unlike your little pecker.”
“Enough! Tyler, back to work.”
I duck before they see me spying from the window. What a pig. And young. All the men here are. I wonder if it’s a job requirement to be under twenty-five and act like a Neanderthal.
