“Really?” I asked, flattered.
I heard a door slam. Lisa was standing on the porch, glaring at us. She was holding my parrot-paper-wrapped frame from the card shop. It was another nail in my coffin. Now her husband was in my car. Did I dare?
“Do you want to go get some donuts with sprinkles?” I asked him.
His answer was his kiss. He planted one full on my mouth. Our tongues touched. The fireworks returned, sending a searing flame through my body and setting my panties on fire. I felt my story slip away to the floor. Something hit the windshield. I knew it was the frame, but I kissed him back with all my soul. A new story leapt into my brain, with flowers and orchards and star-crossed lovers caressing each other in the moonlight, birds chirping.
The Stars Fell Down
Kristina Wright
The accidental brush of a hand. A knowing look across a room. The tilt of a head toward the door. Signals shared between spouses at a party? I suppose. In this case, they were signals shared between lovers whose spouses were oblivious.
William was drunk. It wasn’t apparent in his demeanor, but I knew the signs. He brushed by me on his way through the kitchen and his hand touched my ass. Lingered there for a good minute as he blocked the path of two other guests trying to get by.
I glared at him, knowing it didn’t matter. “Had too much to drink?”
“Not too much. Enough to know what I want,” he said. He leaned close, stirring the hair on my neck as he whispered, “We’re leaving soon. Meet me.”
I didn’t have a chance to say no or, rather, ask where and when, because my husband came toward us. As if sensing that his territory had been encroached upon, he wrapped his hand around my waist and gave me a little squeeze. William’s hand moved from my ass at about the same moment and I wondered if the two had touched in between.
“How’s everything, sweetheart?” Brad asked. He kissed me on the cheek, but he only had eyes for William. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”
My parties are legend. I am the hostess extraordinaire, making sure everyone has enough food, enough drink, a good time. I smiled at Brad, ignoring the set of William’s jaw. “Everything’s great. I think we’re running low on wine, though.”
“I can go get more.”
I could practically feel William tensing, though he was no longer touching me. “Oh, no,” I said quickly. “We’ll be fine.”
“Well, let me know,” Brad said, releasing me to make the rounds once more.
“Nice,” William murmured. “I was starting to think you didn’t want to be with me tonight.”
I didn’t have time to respond. Rachel, William’s wife, appeared at his side. I wondered if she’d heard what he said. One look at her bland, expressionless face told me she hadn’t.
“I need to go home,” she said to William, ignoring me. It wasn’t that she suspected anything, Rachel simply didn’t like parties. She let William drag her to these get-togethers, only to stand off to the side, hardly speaking, and demanding to leave shortly after arriving. It was, to my way of thinking, quite irritating. To William, it was convenient.
I watched as he pulled her close and brushed her hair aside to lay a kiss on her neck. I shivered, knowing what that felt like. Wanting it.
“I guess we’ll be going,” William said, genuinely sounding disappointed. “Tell Brad thanks.”
I saw them to the door, hugging Rachel first, then William. His touch was polite, distant. His words in my ear were another matter. “The university parking lot in an hour,” he breathed so softly I wouldn’t have heard him if his lips hadn’t been touching my ear. “I need to fuck you.”
I clung to the doorframe as I closed the door behind them. Weak-kneed with desire, I had the fleeting thought to refuse his request, to simply not show up. I checked my makeup in the mirror by the door, noting the flush in my cheeks, the way my eyes sparkled. He did this to me, so easily.
I would go. I would think of an excuse to be gone for a bit and I would leave my party to fuck my lover. I smiled at my reflection, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.
The minutes dragged on. Ever the hostess, I served finger foods and poured glasses of wine and made small talk about how Bobby was doing in Little League and whether our subdivision needed stricter covenants. Finally, I slipped away. I told my best friend Theresa to tell Brad I’d gone for wine. Theresa doesn’t know about my affair with William, but she suspects something, I’m sure.
“I won’t tell him until he asks,” she said. Theresa is a good friend.
It was a short drive, no more than fifteen minutes, but the lights worked against me and my frustration level was near to breaking when I finally pulled into the parking lot. I slowed the car, realizing I had been driving well in excess of the speed limit. I needed to see William and nothing, not traffic lights or speed signs or twenty-five people at my house would stop me.
William teaches at the university. He is a professor of philosophy and ethics, the irony of which doesn’t escape him – or me. His car was there, parked in the shadow of the arts and letters building. I saw his silhouette in the driver’s seat, could see the movement of his fingers as he drummed the steering wheel. William is an impatient man, especially where I’m concerned. The knowledge made me smile.
I parked my car next to his and got out. The passenger door was unlocked and I slipped inside. “Hi. Miss me?” I could hear how breathless my voice sounded and I hated it.
“Took you long enough,” he said, fisting his hand in my hair.
“I’m having a party, William. It’s not easy to get away.” I was, in fact, ten minutes early. “But I’m here now.”
“Yes, you are.”
He leaned across the center console and kissed me. Hard. His mouth tasted of tequila and I sucked his bottom lip between mine, biting it gently. Finally, he released me and I leaned back in the seat.
“You shouldn’t drink so much at my house. It’s not safe to drive,” I said. “It’s not safe to be around me, either.”
He watched me, his eyes heavy-lidded, but not with sleep. “I can’t help it. All I want to do is touch you and I can’t. So I drink.”
It was a familiar argument. A familiar situation. I kept coming back for more, unwilling to lose this feeling. “Be careful next time,” I admonished. “Brad wasn’t too happy to have you pawing at me.”
“Poor Brad,” he said. “Maybe if he wasn’t fucking his assistant he’d notice you’re in love with me.”
I wished I had never told William about Brad’s infatuation with his paralegal. I couldn’t prove they were sleeping together, but the truth was I didn’t much care. As long as I had William, Brad’s extracurricular activities held no power over me.
“What about you?” I taunted. “How would you feel if Rachel was with someone else right now, knowing you’ll be home any minute and so hot to get fucked she’s willing to risk it?”
His eyes widened. “It would never happen.”
“What if it did?”
“I’d leave her.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes. “Hypocrite. You can fuck other people and she can’t?”
He reached for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. “I don’t fuck other people. I’m in love with you.”
“You fuck me.”
“Yes. And you love it.”
I opened my eyes and started at him. “Hypocrite,” I said again.
“But you love me.”
It was true. I did love him. I just didn’t like him very much.
“Kiss me,” he said.
I obeyed because I wanted to, leaning across the console once more to wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him. We sat like that, separated from the waist down, kissing and touching each other until the windows fogged and I was squirming in my seat.
“You are so beautiful,” he said. He stroked my hair, trailing his fingers down the collar of my blouse to the swell of my breasts. “I need you.”
I reached for his belt, half leaning
across the seat as I undid the buckle, then unfastened his pants. He leaned back, letting me unzip him, pulling his erection free of his pants. He was rigid, thick, ready. I whimpered softly as I leaned over him and sucked the head of his cock between my lips. I licked him gently, tasting his arousal, that familiar salty-sweet taste unlike any other man I’d ever been with. I dreamed of that taste, looked for it in things I ate and drank, longing for it like a craving, a thirst I couldn’t sate.
He twisted his fingers in my hair, guiding me slowly up and down the length of his cock. I sucked him greedily, hungrily, taking him as far as I could without gagging, then forcing a little more of him into my throat until I did gag and had to come back up. I sucked him the way I knew he liked, the way Rachel never did, the way it took to make him come.
He dragged me off his cock by my hair, the slight jolt of pain making me whimper with need. “I need to fuck you,” he said, his breath coming in rapid pants.
“I don’t have time,” I said. “Let me taste you. Please.”
His grip in my hair tightened. “I need to be inside you,” he said. “Get out of the car.”
He didn’t give me time to respond. He was out of the car and around to the passenger door before I could take a deep breath. He opened the door and reached for me. I let him take my hand and pull me from the car. I felt exposed, vulnerable, the night air chilled compared to the intimate heat of the car.
“William,” I protested as he leaned me against the car and unfastened my pants. “We can’t. Really. We’re going to get caught.”
“I don’t give a damn,” he muttered as he tugged my pants and panties down in one motion. “I need you. Now.”
I let him turn me around and bend me over. I braced my hands on the hood of his car, my legs still pinned together by my pants around my ankles. I didn’t protest as I felt his fingers between my legs, slipping inside my wet, wet cunt, gliding forward over the ridge of my clit. I didn’t complain when he drove his thick cock into me in one quick stroke, burying himself inside me so hard it was almost painful. I didn’t tell him to stop, I didn’t worry about getting caught, I didn’t care about anything except the moment, his cock and the way he made me feel.
He held onto my hips as he fucked me, driving his cock into me hard and fast, over and over again. My arms buckled and I was face down on his car, the metal cool against my fevered cheek. I cried out as he went deep, hearing my whimpers echoing off the walls of the buildings and bouncing back on me, sounding like the cries of a woman in pain. A woman in agony.
I bit my lip to quiet myself, but William seemed intent on wringing every sound from me that he could. He wrapped my long hair around his hand and pulled my head up, leaning forward to bite my exposed neck. I whimpered and my cunt clenched around his cock.
“Oh God, fuck me,” I moaned. I was beyond caring if someone heard me. I needed William to fuck me, fuck me hard and make me forget where we were and who was at my house – and who was waiting for him.
I tried to brace myself on the hood, but the slope prevented me from keeping my balance. “Wait,” I gasped. I reached back, putting my hand on his hip and pushing him away. He slid out of me and my body felt empty, bereft.
“What?”
I turned around, facing him. “I can’t stand up. If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”
I leaned down to free myself of my pants twisted around my ankles. Then I sat on the edge of the car, braced my hands behind me and spread my legs. “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Fuck me, William.”
He put his hands on my hips and I reached down to guide him into me. I wanted to tease him, to stroke my clit with the broad head of his cock, to hold him until he begged to be inside of me, but I was too far gone to tease him or myself. I pulled him into me and wrapped my legs around his waist to hold him close.
My soft whimpers and moans were the only sounds in the still night air. William was silent and stoic as a sentry, fucking me senseless, fucking me into oblivion
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His face was just a shadowy spot above me, blending into the endless night sky. I blinked, staring at him, willing myself to see his features, but all I saw was darkness. Then, instead of seeing him more clearly, I saw the stars. The night sky, devoid of a moon, was filled with stars. I stared up at William as he fucked me, his face obscured by darkness and surrounded by twinkling stars that seemed close enough to touch.
“You want it?” I could just make out the movement of his lips. He leaned closer, brushing his mouth against my neck. “You want to suck me?”
“When I come,” I whispered, fearing he would pull away before I could finish. “When I come.”
I wasn’t sure he heard me, but he fucked me harder, his thrusts more shallow and at just the right angle to stroke my G-spot. I strained forward, pushing my hips at him, propping myself up on my arms to get closer, to pull him deeper. I came in a gush of fluid, my entire body wrapped around him as my cunt tightened and rippled around his thick cock inside me.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I screamed, the echo of my voice ringing in my ears. “Fuck me!”
“Now, take it, now,” he said, pulling me off the car by my hair and pushing me to my knees.
I opened my mouth wide, wanting to taste him, take him, even while my body still throbbed in orgasm. William guided his cock into my mouth, thrusting his hips forward so that it slid across my tongue and hit the back of my throat. I gagged, but instead of pushing him away, I grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, relaxing my throat and swallowing as he started to come.
Finally, William moaned. William who was always so quiet, moaned loudly as I took his cock deep into my mouth and swallowed everything he could give me. He relaxed his grip on my hair, but I didn’t move away. I sucked him gently, lingering over him until my knees ached from kneeling on the hard ground. Finally, slowly, I released his cock and he helped me stand.
William held me, both of us naked from the waist down, and the incongruity of it made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. The moment was over before I could make sense of my feelings and he was pulling up his pants and handing me mine. We got dressed silently, without looking at each other. Finally, while I was trying to detangle my hair, William put his hand on my cheek.
“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” There was no emotion in my voice. “Be careful going home.”
When I made no move to get into my car, he hesitated. “I need to get home before Rachel starts worrying. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I nodded, as if that decisive movement would convince him. “I’m just going to stand here for a minute and catch my breath.” I gave him a wry smile. “I don’t want Brad to wonder what I’ve been up to.”
“Okay.” He didn’t move. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I looked up at the night sky, filled with more stars than I had ever seen in my life. They seemed so close, as if they were falling on top of me. Tears filled my eyes and the stars twinkled. “I’m fine. Just go, William.”
He went. I didn’t watch him leave, I never could. Instead, I watched the stars fall down and wondered when I would see him again.
It’s All Right, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Mitzi Szereto
Lay, lady, lay . . .
Oh, God, not again! That horrible nasal whine. Sounds like the man should blow his nose.
Lay across my . . .
I’ll give you brass beds. Maybe a nice brass bedpost to smash your head in with. Oh, bliss. Oh, silence.
“HON-ey, did you pick up my blue suit from the cleaners yet?”
She sighs. Yet another thing she’s forgotten. Like the Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes for the kids. She’ll catch hell tomorrow morning at breakfast. She can see their matching blue eyes, glaring at her in accusation. “M-a-a-a-h-h!”
A lawnmower starts up next door. Christ, it’s not even 8 a.m. Well, at least it helps drown out those Bob Dylan CDs Richard puts on every m
orning while he’s getting ready for work. Not to mention every night before going to bed. CD player in the living room. CD player in the bedroom. CD player in the bathroom. She can hardly wait for him to get out of the house so she can have some quiet. She wishes they had CDs with silence on them.
Her dumb luck his office moved out of the city and into the suburbs. His early-morning train is now a quick ten-minute drive to the industrial park at the edge of town. Richard couldn’t have been happier. It meant he could get in a quickie before work. That, and playing his goddamned Dylan. A yawn, a poke, a fart – then off to the shower. Not the sort of sex she reads about in Cosmo. But maybe Cosmo girls aren’t married to Richard. Could be she’s too old for Cosmo these days anyway. Might be time for Reader’s Digest.
Middle-aged. OK, late middle-aged, if you want to get technical. When will her husband realize it’s time to put away the love beads, the anti-war slogans? He can’t seem to disconnect his late middle-age self from his hippie teenaged self. Well, pseudo hippie. They were both raised in Hartsdale, New York, not exactly a bastion of poverty and underprivilege. So they both ran away to Woodstock in high school. Big deal. That didn’t qualify them as hippies. Hell, they couldn’t even get near a stage to see the performers. Hendrix was in a purple haze, all right. It was just a sea of mud, people OD-ing, backed-up port-a-potties. But talk to Richard and he’ll go on and on about how great it was, like the second coming. She came home with tetanus. You call that great?
It wasn’t so bad before, but something seems to have gone off in his head – a time bomb that’s driving him to regain his lost youth. It started with the Grecian Formula. So what’s wrong with a few gray hairs? She’s got some herself. Yet every time she says they make him look distinguished, he drives off in a huff to the Costco to pick up a super-sized bottle of the stuff. Why doesn’t he do something about his spreading gut? After all, he’s not exactly Richard Gere in the buff. Not that she’s ever actually seen Richard Gere in the buff, but she can draw a good enough picture from his movies. Next was the new car. Here she’s stuck driving their wheezing 10-year-old Chevy with its seats sticky with melted candy and old chewing gum, and Richard’s flitting around in a shiny red Japanese model with a spoiler on the back. “I need it for work,” he says. Work? It sits in the parking lot all day! Then came the prescription for Viagra. “But honey, isn’t that for old men suffering from impotence?” she asked, later thinking it might’ve been more PC to use the term Erectile Dysfunction. After all, Bob Dole didn’t mind letting the entire country know he couldn’t get his pecker up. Well, Richard set her straight on that one. She still wonders whether the kids heard them in the bedroom, what with the headboard slamming against the wall and Richard’s Tarzan yodels. They did look at her with more contempt than usual the next morning at breakfast. OK, so she might manage to put up with a few annoyances when it came to her husband. But now, to top it off, they have the resurrection of Bob Dylan. Christ, it’s like he’s in bed with them! It might work as an aphrodisiac for Richard, but not for her. Give her soft music, some candles . . . She can dream, can’t she?
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 7 Page 38
