by Lynn Galli
“What do you have that I don’t?” the stocky woman who’d issued the death glare asked. Her stance threatened, bulk leaning forward trying to intimidate.
“Nothing,” she responded truthfully.
“Damn right you don’t.” The woman rubbed a hand over her sheer short buzz cut. “Let me at her.” A folded bill came out of her pocket and slid across the bar to pay for the room as a gesture to share. “You strap her down, do your thing, then let me have some fun with her.”
“No.”
“Blindfold her, she doesn’t have to know. I want her. She was supposed to be mine tonight.” She sneered in a way that made her look ugly rather than menacing.
“No.”
“Don’t mess with me, chickie. I’m horny as hell, and you just blocked me. I’m trying to be decent about this and share her with you.”
“Everyone who comes in here has a choice. I won’t take that from her even without her knowing.” She held her ground.
Nothing about the tall, bulky form frightened her. The worst that could happen was pain, and pain, she could handle.
“You’ll do what I want.” A thick finger stabbed at her chest.
“No, I won’t.” Her mind deadened the exaggerated twinge the finger jab caused. When she didn’t back down, the woman eased off with a huff. Bluster must have been her thing. Collecting the key from the bartender, she headed to the back.
“I was wondering if you’d ditched me,” R.S. said from outside one of the rooms. The insecure look didn’t suit her, nor did it add to her appeal. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. I didn’t want to think I’d missed out on another chance with you.”
“Inside,” she ordered after unlocking a private room. She didn’t like that she’d made an impression on this woman. She didn’t like anyone thinking of her that way. “Strip and get up on the bench, face down. Your word is ‘inveigle’.”
Lightning quick, R.S. stripped off the one-piece red satin teddy. Pink nipples peaked atop those perky breasts. The grooming had gone too far this time. A heart shaped nest of black hair covered her mound. Ridiculous, but not an issue. When R.S. turned, it was a slow spectacle meant to torture. Little did she know, it had no effect. Her climb onto the apparatus was practiced. R.S. settled onto her stomach, stretching her arms up and spreading her legs to the corners.
As she was fixing the Velcro straps to her wrists and ankles, she wondered why she was here. She didn’t want to be here. It was no better than last time, no better than any other time. She wished she’d never discovered this club, this way to experience an act that everyone else could do so easily. Even if she was only a cursory participant, she forced herself to endure for a sample of something that everyone else seemed to crave.
Once completely bound, R.S. pleaded, “Use the whip. Hurt me.”
“No.”
“I like it. I want it.”
“Pain isn’t part of this. Not with me.”
“But it’s so good. Please, hurt me.” Muscles strained against the straps as R.S. whimpered her plea.
She thinks I’m beautiful. The thought zipped through her, forcing a step backward. What was she doing here? An intelligent, gorgeous, kind woman thought she was beautiful, and she was here, forcing herself to engage in this. She didn’t want this. She wanted that gorgeous woman. She could never have her, but she wanted her.
Reaching out, she undid a wrist strap. “What?” R.S. looked over, confused.
“We’re done.”
“No!” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Not tonight.”
“Please, don’t leave me hanging. I’m gonna burst any second.” She reached for the woman’s left leg strap but hesitated with the plea. She’d essentially teased her and had no intention of following through. That was cruel on its own. “Do you want the woman you were talking to earlier?”
“I want you. I’ve waited for you.”
“I’m done for tonight. I can release you or I can send the other woman back or both.” She knew what the answer would be, but she couldn’t control this woman’s mind.
“Send her in,” R.S. requested predictably with a loud sigh.
“Will you be back soon?”
“No.”
“Will you ever be back?” Her eyes pleaded.
“No.” Unlike the other times she made the promise that she wouldn’t force herself to come back, this time she knew it was true.
Chapter 21
A hand slid around my waist and onto my stomach just before a familiar body smashed up against me from behind. The added body weight gently propelled me into the balcony railing.
“Damn, babe, you’re wearing that sexy garter, aren’t you?” Megan’s husky voice licked at my ear. “Under that tight skirt, are you trying to make me crazy?”
I smiled out at the lights reflecting off the dark Charles River.
Megan was in the mood, guess the garter wouldn’t go to waste. I’d worn it because, like with Meg, good things usually happened when I did. I’d had my final interviews with the University of Vermont earlier today then flew back to Boston after receiving a job offer for a tenure track position. Most would call me insane for not pursing tenure at Harvard where I currently taught. But the University of Vermont was my ideal placement, where both Meg and I wanted to return, where we could raise our son together with his grandparents, aunts, and cousins nearby.
“Hi, babe, I’m home,” I finally got to say because she’d been busy breastfeeding Caleb and trying to get him to sleep when I got back to our apartment fifteen minutes ago. I knew better than to interrupt his nighttime ritual or we’d be looking at another hour of trying to settle him down.
“Yes, you are, and we’ll soon talk about your magnificence in getting tenure, and the fact that, even with our flourishing little business, I’m now going to be a kept woman, and how you’re responsible for finally getting us back home. But right now, we’re focusing on this garter.” Her hand slipped from my stomach down my thigh and curled up under my skirt. “Tell me you’re not wearing panties, and I’ll pass out right here.” I chuckled and turned in her arms to face her. My spouse, my wife, my lover, my partner. She looked a little tired from taking one of our adventure company groups out sculling on the river earlier and caring for Caleb on her own tonight, but her face still short circuited my brain. “You’ll have to find out.”
“Don’t do this to my heart, babe.” She brushed her lips against my ear.
My face turned into the path of her lips, catching them with my own. That familiar burst of passion jolted me back against the railing. It had been a while. Caleb was eighteen months old and exhausting, even with both of us. She hadn’t been in the mood in months, and I hadn’t been much more motivated either. But this felt great.
“I’m supposed to be exploring the status of your undies,” she moaned as my fingers slid up to flick over her erect nipples.
“Find out later. I have to touch you now.” My hand shot to the waistband of her sweats and slid underneath to cup her sex.
“Oh God, who’s not wearing any underwear?”
“We had a bath earlier,” she managed as her lips dropped to my throat. “Didn’t think the rush to get dressed before Caleb started squawking would come in handy.”
“Very handy,” I murmured, my fingers slipping into the plump, wet folds.
She groaned then bit my neck when I grazed her clitoris.
Thankfully, I’d had my interviews already; that bite was going to leave a mark. She started to unbutton my silk blouse, and I used my free hand to shove her t-shirt up over her naked breasts. Larger since she’d been breastfeeding our son, but still the same shape I’d known for years. I cupped one then the other, delighting in her throaty groans. The hand touching her fiery hot center grew more insistent.
“You’re making me nuts.”
“I can’t believe how long it’s been.” I pushed back to look at her. “Let’s not let that happen again.”
“Co
mpletely with you,” she moaned, her hips tilting into my hand, asking for what she loved best. “Ahh, jeez, not gonna make it.”
“Yeah?” I teased, thrilled that she was this close to the edge already. It meant she’d missed this as much as I had. “Give me what I want, Meg.”
I slipped inside her slick, hot sheath. She twitched around my fingers as I added my thumb to her clit. She bucked against me, letting go of those familiar half moan half groan pants until the thrusting and rubbing forced her climax.
“God, so good, Bri.” She tilted toward me, using my body to help keep her taller frame standing. Her hot breath blew against my temple as she recovered from her orgasm. “I needed that.” When she managed to bring her head upright, she gave me a determined stare. “Time for my fun, babe.” With an almost feral look, she spun me to face the river again.
Her body crushed up against mine, hands roaming to find bare skin under the loosened shirt. I felt her drop to her knees behind me. Her hands slid up the back of my legs and under my skirt.
When she found my underwear, she teased, “You’d win at strip poker.” Slowly she brought the panties down my legs and with each gliding inch, I felt myself get wetter. “Step,” she ordered to free them from my legs. When her hands moved north again, she took my skirt upwards until it bunched at my waist. Exposed to the night air, I could feel the chill caressing me and mixing with the searing heat swirling through my body. “These are so sexy.” Her hands traced the lace of my garter down the straps to my thigh-high stockings. “You’re so sexy, Bri, with or without the garter.”
“You make me feel sexy, Meg.”
She stood and brushed up against me. Her mouth began to suck softly on my earlobe. “I have to take you, right here, right now.” No foreshadowing touch at all, she just plunged inside me, filling me completely.
“God, yes, good,” I groaned, bracing forward over the balcony railing to give her better access. The feel of her inside of me flared lances of fire everywhere. I moved against her thrusts, trying to stay quiet so we wouldn’t wake Caleb or our neighbors next door.
In no time, I recognized the churning in my abdomen. “Close.”
“Yeah, do it, babe.” Meg’s other hand slipped around my front and took my clit between two fingers. Alternating between sliding and pinching, with one more rough thrust, I was done. A gruff whispered shout escaped before I could contain it. My body trembled and twitched through the best climax I’d had in years.
Boneless, I could barely turn around and open my eyes to look at the woman who’d done this to me. As they fluttered open, Megan’s voice, slightly deeper and with a different cadence said,
“You’re the one who’s beautiful.” My eyes focused, and it was M’s face that stared back at me.
I bolted upright in bed, suddenly awake, heart beating so fast I could see the rhythm under my t-shirt. Perspiration flushed my body hot, tight and strung out from the unfulfilled climax that my dream had escalated. My muscles ached, but my heart ached more. I’d relived that night on the balcony more times than I cared to admit over the past three years, but this was the only time I’d turned it into a fantasy. This was the first time I’d ever fantasized about someone else. I’d had more than just a sex dream about M. I’d taken one of my favorite true life moments and attached her to it. A psychologist would have a field day with me.
I sprang out of bed, ignoring my aching muscles and stumbled into the bathroom. I flipped on the shower and stripped off my sleep shorts and shirt. Gripping the counter, my head bent to avoid looking at my reflection before I gained control. When I stepped under the hot spray of water, I felt my muscles relax a little. Only one thing would make me lose the tension completely, but I wouldn’t do it, not even if it would only take two swipes of my fingers.
The soap felt slick on my hypersensitive skin, but I didn’t permit a second of pleasure. I went about washing my hair and shaving my legs. When I turned to face the spray, the water splashed against my throbbing center. I slammed my hands against the shower tile and gave up, tilting my hips so that the spray would hit right where I needed it most. Ten seconds of pulsating water and I came in a charge of pent up frustration and sorrow.
It was a dream, just a dream, I tried reassuring myself. The fact that the frustration overpowered the sorrow got me to abandon the shame. I had some hope that I was finally past the grief of losing my spouse and open to someone new. That left only frustration. If a spontaneous climax didn’t relieve the frustration, only one thing remained.
Unfortunately, too many people had the same idea. Jessie’s health club teemed with people this early, adding to my irritation.
If I had to wait in line for one machine, I might lose it.
Thankfully, an upright bike beckoned and, with a little maneuvering, I hopped onto it. Plugging in the required data to get the machine to clock my heart rate and calorie burn, I started the mindless spinning of the pedals.
From my bike seat, I watched the early morning townsfolk go about their daily routines through the window in front of me.
After twenty minutes, I shifted to check out the rest of the gym’s patrons in the mirrored wall to my left. I caught sight of Willa in front of one of the free weight bench presses. She was laughing with the person she was spotting. So this is when she worked out.
Of all the times I’d been in here, I’d never seen her even though she claimed she used the gym three times a week.
I almost stopped pedaling to go over and say hello, but the sight of her workout buddy kept me glued to my bike seat. M popped up off the bench after replacing the bar, smiled, and said something to Willa while getting into spotting position. A sleeveless exercise top showed off chiseled arms and hugged a fit torso. Her nylon shorts highlighted powerfully feminine thighs and calves. My weakness: perfect legs. I should have known she’d have perfect legs. I felt my throat tighten and fought to keep the dream from resurfacing in my head.
Keeping an eye trained on the duo, I heard the bike issue a series of sporadic beeps indicating my increased heart rate. For two fairly staid people, they seemed to be chatting effortlessly.
When they moved to another machine, I couldn’t help noticing how closely they walked and stood together. We’d become friends, good friends I thought, yet M still kept a few steps between us whenever we were together. An unfamiliar flicker of jealousy ran through me. Why could she drop her guard around Willa but not around me?
“Morning, Bri.” Quinn stepped into my eye line in the mirror, startling me. “Didn’t know you worked out this early.”
“I don’t normally.” I smiled up at her, taking in her running shorts and UVA athletic department t-shirt. Yet another sickeningly fit specimen of woman, the group was filled with them. There should really be a limit imposed. “Don’t you usually exercise in the basketball facility on campus?”
“Usually.” She waved at a man who called out to her from a machine in the next row. I found it amazing how well she dealt with her admiring public when they had no problem telling her how to do her job. “Jess and I took a run this morning and ended up here rather than doubling back toward our houses. I’ll get a ride back with Will.” She turned and sought out her partner among the club’s members. “Doesn’t look like she’s done yet.” Because she was here and I might as well use every resource I could, I asked, “How well do you know M?”
“Hmm?” She turned her attention back to me. “Oh, not that well, actually. She and Willa hang out mostly when I’m on road trips with the team, and, as you can see, they like to work out together. She’s taken care of our dogs a few times when we’re both out of town, and she’s been to dinner at our house once. I think she said ten words to me the whole night.” That made me laugh, at least M wasn’t more forthcoming with Quinn than she was with me. “They look like they’re pretty close friends.”
Quinn narrowed her gaze at me before a knowing smile stretched her lips wide. Splendid. Since when had I become such an open book? “They are, but for Willa
that means she’s comfortable calling her spontaneously.” She glanced into the mirror at my reflection and pointed her gaze in the same direction as mine. We watched the friends laugh at something while huddled together. “Or were you talking about their proximity?” She did a lousy job of hiding the teasing expression on her face.
Almost as lousy as I was at hiding the blush I now wore.
“According to Willa, two people who have large personal bubbles don’t need to worry about the other invading her space.”
“I’ve never noticed that about Willa,” I commented, trying to make sense of what she’d just said.
“That’s because she’s gotten comfortable with our friends.
She won’t bite their hands if they try to hug her anymore.” She grinned and winked.
I thought back to M’s reaction when I’d touched her face, and it hit me. Oh, crap. She hadn’t been fearful that I was coming onto her. No, she hadn’t wanted to be touched; she didn’t like being touched. Well, that would make having a relationship a little difficult, wouldn’t it?
Chapter 22
This time when I approached her door, I didn’t bother to look at the architectural details. I was too excited to see her. My inline skates hung over my shoulder, but I barely noticed their weight. I knocked twice and waited.
“I’m not late, am I?” I asked when M opened the door. “Gene stopped by my office before I left. I wasn’t sure I’d get out of there in time.”
