NO STRINGS
Part Two of Three
~~~~~
THE BITTER END
I. THE MARLA AFFAIR
Her ‘car’ was a beautiful, blue Bentley Continental GT sports coupe. (You may ask how I knew that – Some of our clients drive Bentleys. I’ve lusted after a few – the cars, not the clients.) We headed out of town till we came to an off-ramp that led to a wide two-lane road which headed north into the hills. After a mile, we turned onto a tree-lined, two-lane, divided by a center median of evergreen shrubbery. About 50 yards in, there was a manned, sentry station. The guard waved her past. After a few miles through rolling hills and past several gated properties, she pulled up in front of an imposing, ornate gate, which slid open at the push of a button. She drove up a long, curving drive, pulling up in front of a very large, very impressive, Tudor-style home.
When she came to a stop, I opened my door to go around and open hers. Immediately, two big Dobermans came out of nowhere.
Marla, a little panic in her voice, said, “Matt, stand still. Don’t make any sudden moves.”
“What are their names?” I calmly asked.
“Daedalus and Icarus.”
“Clever,” I observed, then quickly turned my attention to the dogs.
“Hey, boys, good boys,” I said in a soft voice, then I firmly commanded “Daedalus, Icarus, come!”
The dogs continued trotting towards me. When they were within about pouncing distance, I commanded, “Daedalus, Icarus, halt! Sit!” They both immediately sat. I was ready to jump in the car if the commands didn’t work.
“Good boys, good boys, stay!” I walked up and offered the back of my fisted hand and let them sniff, then gave them each a good pat and scratch. “Good boys. Daedalus, Icarus, release, free!” I ordered and pointed the direction they had come from. They turned and trotted off.
“That is the damndest thing I’ve ever seen,” Marla remarked as she exited the car. “How the hell did you do that?”
I shrugged, “I have a way with critters.”
“The hell you say. Those dogs should have torn you up. I’m going to fire the trainer.”
“No, no, don’t do that. The dogs are well-trained. I just established that I was friendly, then that I was the alpha in the situation, used a command voice giving typical commands, then rewarded their behavior. The most important thing is I didn’t show any fear or weakness. The only thing you might want to consider is non-standard commands, but at this point, it might be difficult to change them without confusing the dogs.”
Marla eyed me for a second, “So, you weren’t scared?”
“Nope. I rarely get scared. It never helps.”
“There’s more to you than meets the eye, Matt. Come inside. I’m thirsty.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Call me ma’am again, and I’ll make you pay for it later,” she quipped.
“Looking forward to it,” I parried.
She laughed, hooked my arm and led me up the steps. She unlocked the front door with her thumb pressed on a reader, and we entered the foyer, which was as big as my kitchen, dining room, and living room combined. After locking the door, she tossed her purse on a credenza, hooked my arm and led me through the house to a set of double doors that opened onto an indoor swimming pool. In one corner was a good-sized bar, and behind it, on the back wall, a row of cabinets with a built-in refrigerator. Attached behind the elevated bar was a standard-height counter with a sink and various necessities – blenders, ice buckets, and such.
Marla went behind the bar, “What’s your pleasure, Matt? I noticed you were drinking beer at the bar.”
“Surprise me.”
“Okay, well, I’m a tequila gal, so how about a couple shots of tequila with beer back?”
“You did surprise me, and that sounds perfect.”
She poured two shots of tequila then turned to the refrigerator, “What kind of beer do you like?”
“Whatever you have will be fine.”
“Take your pick; I have a selection, but I find Corona goes well with tequila.”
“Sounds good. You have a ‘selection’?” I asked, curious.
“Yes, some domestics, local craft beers, ales, porters, stouts…I even have ‘blank’ on tap. My soon-to-be, prick-of-an-ex-husband drinks that crap.”
(Name of the beer obfuscated to protect me from those who religiously drink that brand.)
“Wow, I’m impressed, not by the ‘bilge water on tap’, but the selection.”
“All of this,” she motioned around her with her hand held up, “and it’s my beer selection that impresses you?”
Deadpan, I replied, “I’m a complicated guy.”
She laughed and shook her head, “That you are, Matt. And I think we’re going to be friends,” she stated as she opened two Coronas and set them on the bar. Then she scratched at her shoulder, “Damn dress.”
She walked around the bar, “Here, unzip me. I have to get out of this thing. For as much as it cost, the damn thing should be more comfortable.”
She turned her back to me and pulled her long hair to the side. I had trouble getting a grip on the tiny zipper tab, but then it smoothly slid down, stopping just above the swell of her buttocks. She stepped out of the dress and laid it across the bar. She was wearing a pair of lacy, dark-gray panties and nothing else, except for her heels, the rock hanging around her neck and the matching earrings. As the dress slid down, it exposed her surprisingly fabulous, very firm ass. I say surprisingly, because I knew she wasn’t all that young. Her long, sleek legs went ‘all the way to floor’ as the saying goes, and she wasn’t wearing nylons or pantyhose. She didn’t need them – with her ‘all-over’, moderate tan, and flawless skin, her firm, well-muscled, but slender legs really were spectacular.
I assumed that somewhere in this cavernous house was a pretty amazing gym, and that she made good use of it.
She turned and faced me, “So, Matt, what do you think?”
“I have to reassess my opinion of your husband. He wasn’t ‘not very bright’. Unless your maid was Blake Lively, he was a fucking idiot for cheating on you.”
“And if she was Blake Lively?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Then he was less of an idiot but still an idiot.”
“I like that answer, Matt, honey.”
She was braless, and her full, ‘B’-cup breasts lay on her chest a little, but were lovely, nonetheless. I couldn’t make out her nipples as they had these little, translucent, gel-looking pasties on them. She saw me looking, and peeled them off, exposing, small, dark aureoles, with medium-sized, suckable-looking nipples.
(I know; they’re all suckable, but they don’t all ‘look’ suckable – most guys will know what I mean by that. Those that don’t, haven’t seen enough nipples.)
“Can’t wear a bra with this dress, and the damn thing rubs my tits sore,” she remarked.
I took in her long, svelte figure with its slender torso, narrow waist and flat stomach, “Marla, you’re a stunningly beautiful woman.”
She smiled, “Thank you, dear. Not bad for 46, huh?”
“Not bad for 26.”
She laughed, “Another good line.”
“As long as you bought it,” I blithely replied.
“You are a gem, Matt, my dear. Here’s to us, and getting even with the pieces of excrement we were married to. She knocked down her shot of tequila without flinching. I joined her, but I may have flinched a little.
“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes. I want to unwrap my present.”
As she started unbuttoning my shirt, she asked, “So, what do you do out there in that ‘rat race’ when you’re not pining over your lost love?”
“I’m a structural engineer.”
“So you build things?”
“Not exactly. I take an architect’s wet dream and fashion it into something buildable.”
“What kind of things do you ‘fashion’?”
“High-rises, office buildings, pretty much anything an architect can design.”
“That must pay well,” she remarked as she slipped my shoes off.
“It does, but I’m currently doing some ‘rebuilding’, myself.”
“Oh, how’s that?”
“The ex-wife, the bitch, wiped me out, so I’m starting over,” I explained as she unzipped my slacks and slid them down. I stepped out of them and she removed my socks, then stood.
As she pulled my t-shirt over my out-stretched arms, she laughed, “Maybe your ex-wife, the bitch, and my soon-to-be ex-husband, the prick, should get together. They would deserve each other.”
She stepped back, eyeing me, “Nice body, Matt. Damn nice body. How old are you?”
“How old do you want me to be?”
She laughed again, then leaned next to my ear and breathily stated, “Old enough to know what you’re doing, and young enough to do it all night long.”
I smiled, “That happens to be exactly how old I am…and I’m 36.”
After a couple drinks, and exchanging some small talk, we necked a little, exploring each other’s bodies, getting a little better acquainted before jumping in the sack. I learned her husband was an investor who made a bucket load of money off Apple and several other big tech companies.
After one exceptional kiss, Marla purred, “Okay, baby, I was going to suggest we go for a swim, but I can’t wait any longer; I want to find out what I’ve brought home. Let’s retire to a more comfortable setting. We can go for swim on one of our breaks,” she added, slyly.
“Lead the way.”
We went up a grand staircase to what I assumed was the master bedroom, which was huge, but the décor surprised me – very masculine. I said as much.
“Oh, this is my husband’s bedroom. I want to fuck you on his bed. The little prick fucked the maid on mine. Tit for tat.”
“So, your husband’s a small guy?” I asked, surprised.
“On no, he’s a big guy, stature-wise. But he’s a little prick, all the same…and ‘has’ a little prick.”
“But you married him anyway?”
“I married him for his money, and I was his trophy wife. So we were mutually attracted to each other – for entirely different reasons. Though, he was handsome when he was younger, dashing, even.”
“And now?”
“Not dashing – bald with a pot belly, and he still has a little prick. How about you dear? Time to check out the goods. I hope you don’t disappoint,” she said as she knelt and pulled down my boxer briefs.
“Oh, nice, baby, you don’t disappoint…Mind if we jump in the shower first?”
“Not at all. I was planning on taking one sometime today,” I remarked, “Besides, good, clean fun is always more fun when you’re good and clean.”
She laughed, “Well said. Come on big boy. I’ll do your back if you do mine,” she replied as she slipped off her panties, revealing her well-manicured vulva with a narrow ‘V’ of dark pubic hair.
We had fun soaping and rinsing each other, then dried off, and I followed her gyrating ass to the bedroom.
Marla stretched out on the bed, “I don’t need it but I want it, baby; could you give me cunny first, please.”
“With pleasure,” I replied and crawled between her long legs, which she immediately wrapped around my back.
She playfully tossed me a pillow and I slipped it under her narrow hips as she arched her back, lifting her butt off the bed. I grabbed her firm butt cheeks and went to work on her lovely vulva. Her small ‘V’ of dark pubic hair still glistened with moisture from the shower. Her long, dark pinkish-taupe, slender inner labia were slick and wet as was her pink, open vagina. I could tell she was in high heat because the little nub of her clit was peeking out from under its hood. I bent down and began by using the tip of my tongue to lick up and down her slit, while gently nibbling on her delicate lips. I ran my tongue around her hood, not touching her clit directly yet. After a few times, I flattened my tongue and applied more pressure as I licked up and down, then I probed her vaginal opening. As I played, she moaned her satisfaction.
“Nice technique, honey, ungh, damn nice…Oh, oh, yes. You can lick lower if you like…”
I immediately licked over her pucker, and her butt cheeks contracted in my hands. I continued licking, probing, nibbling, adding suction as I enveloped her clit with my lips, then gradually and lightly touched it with my tongue. Her hips shot up in and she shuddered when I made contact.
“Oh, damn! No, don’t stop. Mmm hmm, yes, more anal play, oh fuck, keep that up…”
I took and pressed my thumb against her pucker and kept my lips locked around her clit. Gradually, I increased sucking and tonguing her clit. She grabbed my hair with both hands and mashed my face into her sex as her hips started jinking and her legs started shaking. I increased the diddling action with my tongue on her clit and sucking harder as I felt her approaching her climax.
“Ungh, fuck, fuck, yes, baby, don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m close, ohhh, close, close…”
She started jerking and shaking, and I took my free hand and pressed on her pelvis to help keep me latched onto her clit.
She shouted, “NOW, FUCK, NOW! Cumming, ahhh, ahhh, YESSSS!” she hissed, hips bucking, body shaking as her climax slammed into her. I held on and kept working her clit, till she couldn’t take it anymore and forcefully pulled me off her sex by my hair.
“Oh shit, no more. No more, baby…Damn, that was worth the price of admission,” she quipped and then started laughing. “Honey, I haven’t climaxed like that in a very long time.”
I crawled up her still twitching body, and filled my mouth with first one breast then the other, sucking her now hard nipples, biting them playfully as I sucked on her soft mounds. She pulled me up and engaged me in a hot, wet kiss, her long tongue slipping into my mouth as she wrapped her legs around me and grabbed my butt cheeks, pulling me tight against her.
When she released her hold on me, she demanded, “Give me that big cock now, honey. Just shove it in and fuck me hard!”
I didn’t hesitate. I sat up, slipped my knees around her hips and shoved. My bulbous head slipped passed her snug opening and all the way in, mashing up against her cervix as our groins met. She immediately started clinching her slippery, wet tunnel.
“Ughh, fuck! Shit, that feels good! Pound me; I’m ready,” she growled.
I did. I started long-stroking, thrusting firmly, slamming up against her cervix each time. Marla was digging her fingernails into my back, long legs wrapped around my lower back, urging me on. As she built towards her climax, I increased my pace, now forcefully pounding her. Soon, she started bucking under me, cursing and moaning as she rapidly approached an orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, fuck, yes, ungh, oh-oh-oh, cumming…AGHH, FUCK, FUCK, FU-U-U-CK!
I just kept stroking through her climax as her body shuddered beneath me.
“Oh, yes, yes, make me cum again!” she exclaimed as I pounded her. Within a few short minutes, I felt the semen boiling up in my balls and unloaded as she shouted, “NOW, OH SHIT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, FILL MY CUNT!” She went ballistic, legs shaking, body trembling, and nails clawing my back.
Semen shot out of me, filling her deep cunt as she spasmed and jerked, riding out an even more intense orgasm than her first. Then I collapsed on her, huffing and sweating.
I tried to go ‘all night long’, but by three o’clock, I was gassed, used up and drained, figuratively and literally. Marla was insatiable, and practically rode me into a coma. We had an early breakfast and she drove me back to my vehicle as the sun came up. We made a date for the next Friday and said goodbye.
It was a memorable night of sex, but it wasn’t Marla I was thinking about as I drove home.
II. THE END
When I got home, I fed Tom, then crashed.
(So you don’t think I’m a terrible father, Tom’s main meals are wet food, but I always leave some dry down for her, which she nibbles on if she gets hungry.)
I slept like the dead and didn’t wake up till almost five p.m. I got a shower, dressed and threw a can of soup in a pot. I was starving but too lazy to make a meal. While the soup was heating up, I remembered I had silenced my phone when I went to Marla’s, so I turned it on and checked my messages. I was shocked to see one from Lynne at nine a.m.
“Call me if you like,” was all she said. I liked, and immediately called.
“Hello, Matt. I didn’t think you were going to call.”
“Sorry, I had my phone off, and just checked my messages…Crap! Sorry, I just burned something on the stove. Give me a sec…Okay, crisis over. I guess you need to come get your belongings.”
“Yes, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten everything. I did come by a couple of times and picked up a few things. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Actually, we need to talk. I was hoping today, but I realize it’s late now, and if you have plans…” she ventured, tentatively.
“No, that’s fine. Um, have you eaten?” I asked.
“No.”
“If you’d like, we could meet for dinner,” I suggested, “I just burned mine.”
“It’s Saturday night, so most places are going to be busy,” she pointed out.
“Oh, yes, well, if you would be comfortable, we could eat here. I could order Chinese.”
There was a pause, “Sure, that would be fine. Um, I’m about 40 minutes away, though.”
“Actually, that will work out well, so…”
“I’ll head your way,” she replied.
“I’ll order the food.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye, Lynne.”
After she hung up, I went and changed – dressed a little nicer, put on some cologne, redid my make-up – just kidding; my make-up was fine. When the time was right, I called Happy Garden, then straightened things up.
About five minutes after the food arrived, there was a soft knock at the door. I checked the peephole. The last time I didn’t, well, you know what happened.
My heart jumped in my throat, and I had butterflies in my stomach as I let Lynne in. She was dressed in a simple ivory blouse and navy-blue slacks, and looked beautiful, lovely, stunning, radiant…enough? Okay.
She had a raincoat over her arm, which I took and hung up, “Hi Lynne, the food just arrived; come on in and have a seat.”
“Hi, Matt. Thank you for seeing me.” She barely met my eyes as she went to sit down.
“How have you been?” I asked as I set the food on the table.
“Fine; busy.”
“How’s the new job going?”
“Very well, thank you.”
We sat and exchanged small talk as we ate; all the while I wondered why she was here, but waited on her. We finished eating and cleared the table. I asked if she would like something to drink and she said water would be fine. I got us waters and moved us to the living room. Tom immediately got in her lap.
“I’m sorry, she’s going to get hair on your slacks.”
“That’s okay. It’s good to see her,” she replied as she petted her.
“So, you said we needed to talk…”
“Yes, um, this is difficult…”
“What? You have a boyfriend now?” I said, kidding.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about…”
My heart fell into my stomach and crushed all the cute, little butterflies.
“…Matt, I came to apologize, to tell you how sorry I am. Sylvia called me…”
“How did she get your number?” I interrupted.
“She told me she got it off your phone.”
“Sneaky gal.”
“Anyway, I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to come talk to you. Sylvia told me about Denise and what happened…I’m so, so sorry. I should have listened to you, let you explain…”
She faltered, tears leaking down her cheeks.
“Lynne, it’s okay, I understand. I would have reacted the same way if I came in and found you kissing a naked man and…well doing what Denise was doing.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You would have listened; gave me a chance to explain.”
“You wouldn’t have believed me, anyway, Lynne.”
“You’re probably right.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped at her eyes.
I tried to ease her obvious feelings of guilt, “Look it’s history, now. I mean, you said you have a boyfriend, so we both need to move on. I don’t harbor any hard feelings, if that’s why you’re here.”
I was doing my best to play it cool. I didn’t want to come off like a lovesick sap, especially since she now had a boyfriend.
“No…I…I’m not sure…I guess I was hoping…well, I hope you’re doing well. And I just wanted to tell you that I know what happened and I’m sorry…I guess that’s all,” she finished quietly.
“Okay. I’m sorry how things turned out, and hope things work out for you,” I said, hiding my feelings.
“I’m very sorry too…and if it’s okay with you, Nathan’s going to help me get the rest of my things…unless…”
I waited and when she didn’t finish, I guessed, “Oh, if you need my help, I guess I could…”
“No, thanks…that’s not what…that’s not necessary. I, I should go.”
I needed to be alone, so I was kind of happy she was leaving. I had hoped for a completely different scenario after her phone call. Like – that she loved me, couldn’t live without me, that I was the center of her universe – that would have been a different story. But obviously, that boat had sailed. So I stood, and she stood with me. We headed for the door, and I retrieved her raincoat.
When I handed it to her, she looked at me, and I couldn’t read her expression, but it looked pained, so I tried to reassure her.
“Lynne, please don’t feel bad. It was an unfortunate situation and an honest mistake. I still…”
“Yes?”
“I, um, you will always be…I’ll always care for you, and treasure our time together,” I finally got out, not saying what I started to say, what I wanted to say.
She gave me another pained look and answered, “Me too, Matt. Me too…Well, I guess, goodbye.” She reached up and kissed me on the cheek, then turned to the door.
I opened it, she stepped into the hall and gave a small wave of her hand. I waved back and closed the door.
I promptly got shit-faced again. Why the hell didn’t I tell her that I loved her? Because she had found someone else. It was history. We were history. I needed to get over it, over her.
The following Friday, Lynne called and wanted to come by that Saturday to pick up her remaining belongings. I told her I was going to be out of town, but to help herself. I sure as hell didn’t want to meet Norman, or whatever the fuck his name was.
I called Marla, who was happy to have me for the weekend, so I went to her place and hid out. I told Sylvia I had to go out of town so she could watch after Tom. It wasn’t entirely a lie – Marla does live out of town.
I got home late Sunday, and every trace of Lynne was gone. So, that was it. I had to move on. Any hope I entertained about us getting back together was gone. It was over, history, the end.
I would have gotten ripped again, but I was out of beer.
Late that Sunday night, Sylvia stopped by.
“Hey, Sylvia, come in. Thanks for taking care of Tom. How you doing?”
“How are you doing? You look like shit. I saw Lynne getting her stuff, yesterday. She had some guy helping her. She introduced him…”
“Yeah, Norman, her new boyfriend.”
“She didn’t say he was her boyfriend, but he was kind of acting like it; and she told me his name was Nathan.”
“Yeah, Norman.”
“Oh, I see. Well, you know, she looked like shit, too. Didn’t you guys talk?”
“Yes, and that was sneaky of you – the phone thing.”
“Well, somebody had to do something, dumb ass. So…”
“So, Lynne came over; we ate; she said she was sorry about the misunderstanding; said she had a boyfriend; that he would help her move her things out; then she left.”
“Oh, good grief. That wasn’t why she came over. Did you tell her?”
Tell her what? I said it was okay; I understood, that I didn’t have any ill feelings…”
“No, not that, stupid. Did you tell her that you love her?” she asked in an exasperated voice.
“What? No! She has a boyfriend, this Norman guy…”
“Good grief, you’re an idiot…and his name is Nathan.”
“That’s what I said; and calling me names doesn’t…”
“Matt, she still loves you! What is it with you two?”
“She loves me? She loves me so much; she’s banging some other guy!”
“You love her, and you’re ‘banging’ that rich broad.”
“That’s different.”
“You men; you’re all alike.”
“Well, regardless, she has someone else now…”
“Oh for pity’s sake, that doesn’t mean squat. I think she has loved you from day one; and I know she still loves you. Couldn’t you tell that?”
“No. I just thought she was upset because she never gave me the opportunity to explain the Denise thing.”
“Well, I’m not making any more calls. This one’s on you. But you better call her before it’s too late.”
“I don’t know, Sylvia. I don’t think you’re right…So what did this Norman look like.”
She laughed, “Well, ‘Norman’ was nice enough looking, but he wasn’t you, buddy; and I didn’t see any chemistry there. He was mooning over Lynne, but I didn’t get the same vibe from her.”
“Look, I can’t keep chasing something that isn’t there…If I really thought there was a chance, I would try, but…”
“Well you won’t find out sitting here sulking. Buck up, kiddo. Call her. I’m going to go. You’re depressing me.”
She stood and I walked her to the door.
“Listen, kid, I hope you work this out. If you don’t, you’re always going to regret it; and I know something about regret. Later.” She kissed me on the cheek and left.
III. THE BITTER END
I started to call Lynne several times, but every time, I choked. Then, finally, after a couple weeks, on a Thursday evening I called – the number was no longer in service. Well, that was pretty much it. No more. No more sulking, no more feeling sorry for myself, no more pining.
I called Marla and made a date for dinner the next night. My heart wasn’t in it, but the rest of me was. She was an amazing lover and sympathetic to my situation. I hadn’t told her everything, but enough that she knew I was pretty twisted up over Lynne. We got together pretty regularly, and other than that, I just poured myself into my work, got back to running more and spent more time at the gym – and yes, drinking less beer. If I didn’t, my six-pack was going to end up a twelve-pack.
The days went by, then they turned into weeks.
One Friday morning on my way to work, I stopped at a mini-mart, and saw a Prius the same color and model as Lynne’s – my heart started racing; then a heavy-set woman got out, and I deflated, got in my vehicle and headed to work. But the whole day I was distracted, and almost screwed up the calculations of a structural detail on a set of plans, a critical detail. I quit work early and went home. I was going to get a run in before dinner with Marla, but as I was heading out the door, the phone rang. I started to ignore it, but I was expecting a call from a job supervisor about a cantilevered walkway issue on a building, so I went back to answer it.
I didn’t recognize the number, but assumed it was the supe, “This is Matt.”
“Hi Matt.”
“Lynne? I thought you were someone else. I was expecting a call from a work associate. I didn’t recognize the number.”
“Yes, sorry. Through my job, I got a new carrier and a new cell number. Listen, if you can’t talk…”
“I can talk. What’s up? Did you forget something?”
“No. Yes. Um, I was wondering if we could…” she hesitated.
“Anything, what?” I didn’t want to sound too anxious, but pretty sure I missed that mark.
“My friend has asked me to go on a trip with him, and…”
She paused, and I filled the silence, “Well, that’s great. I hope you have a good time. And, Lynne, I hope that Norman gets run over by a trolley, or some other tragic, freak accident.” The last part was in my mind.
“Um, thanks, but…I thought, maybe…I wanted to make sure there was no reason I shouldn’t go.”
I didn’t understand. Yeah, I know, Sylvia was right; I’m dumber than dogshit. What can I say?
“Lynne, is everything okay? I’m not sure what…look if you need to talk, we could get together.”
“Yes, I think we should, if you have time.”
“Well, sure. When did you have in mind?”
“If possible, tonight. I’m supposed to go somewhere this weekend…”
“Let me make a phone call and I’ll call you back at this number. I need to change some plans.”
“No, Matt, if you have plans, then don’t worry…”
“Hey, it’s not important. Just let me make a call. I’ll get right back to you, okay?”
“If you’re sure?”
I called Marla and we arranged for Saturday. She understood, but said it was going to cost me. That probably meant the whips and the diaper again. Just kidding…no, really…
“I’m all set, Lynne,” I said as soon as I had her on the phone.
“Thank you. I’m sorry if I interrupted your plans. But I appreciate it. How about we meet at Rico’s, It’s early enough to get in, I think.”
We agreed to meet at six. I jumped in the shower, quickly rinsed off, dressed and left for Rico’s. When I arrived, Lynne was waiting out front, looking like a million dollars. It reminded me of the first time we met there, and my heart hurt. I couldn’t take much more of this.
“Hi, Matt, sorry to drag you out like this, but it’s kind of important.”
“Hey, Lynne. You didn’t ‘drag’ me out, and it’s good to see you,” I answered as she tentatively went to hug me. I stepped in and hugged her. She smelled divine – the scent of her perfume still lingered in my memory. My heart hurt even more. Honestly, I had thought that I was finally getting over her, but the instant I saw her, I was overwhelmed, and feeling sick-in-love all over again
I opened the door and we entered the dimly-lit restaurant. For once, I was glad it was darker in there. I didn’t want Lynne to see me looking all lovesick. I didn’t think I could do that good of a job acting otherwise.
After we were seated and had ordered, we shared a little small talk about her work, my work and such; then I broached the subject, “You said you were going on a trip with your boyfriend?”
“Yes…Well, we’re planning one…to Niagara Falls.”
“That sounds very romantic,” I smiled, though I couldn’t think of a single reason why I did. I guess to be polite.
“That’s why I needed to see you. Look, I need to be clear on something, so I’m just going to say it…Nathan and I have been seeing each other a while, and he’s a great guy, but…” she paused for a bit too long.
“But…”
“I’m worried I might be making a mistake.” She replied and let it hang there. I waited till it seemed like she wasn’t going to follow that statement up.
“Why do you think it might be a mistake?”
“He has certain expectations…you know about our relationship…and I’m not sure I’m ready yet to…go where he wants to with things…”
“You mean, sexually?” I asked, confused. And I couldn’t help but wonder why she was talking to me about this.
“No, no. We already, um, well, no that’s not it. I guess I mean romantically, you know, as in getting serious.”
“Oh, good, so you’re fucking him, but stringing him along, and just thought I’d like to hear about it,” I didn’t say.
Instead, I asked, “Well, if you’re not certain, may I ask what the problem is? Aren’t you in love?”
She looked down, then took a drink of her ice water, and softly replied, “No…yes, but…”
Then she got quiet and didn’t continue.
“If you’re in love with him, then what is the problem? I mean, if you can talk about it.”
In an even softer voice, and without looking at me, she replied, “Um, it’s not that I’m in love with him…”
“Yes…”
She looked up at me, “Matt, I…”
Our food showed up, and she didn’t finish her sentence. I thanked the waiter and looked at Lynne. She was already fiddling with her silverware. So I started to eat, even though I didn’t feel like it. Lynne began to eat, and I figured we were done. But I wanted to know what she was going to say. I didn’t understand what the problem was. If she was in love with him, why were we sitting here? Did she just come to torture me? Why was she concerned about a ‘romantic’ vacation to Niagara Falls. It didn’t make sense. But I let it be, and decided to wait, at least till we were done eating.
Neither of us ate much, picking at our food. I felt sick to my stomach. My appetite was gone. Too much emotion, too much hurt, and I was suffering with indigestion from all the dead butterflies.
For the first time since our food came, Lynne looked at me, “Can we go?”
“Sure, I’ll settle the bill.” I called the waiter over and paid, then we got up and headed outside.
I walked Lynne to her car. When we got there, I asked, “Lynne, what were you going to say, before we ate?”
She looked up, “Um, I guess, just if there was any reason you thought I shouldn’t go on this trip?”
I didn’t know what to say. Would it be right to tell her I didn’t want her to go, that I was crazy sick that she was going with another man?
“Lynne, I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, I think this has to be your decision. Look, I care about your happiness, and I wouldn’t want to see you do anything you regret, but…”
She cut me off, “Okay, look, um, I need to get going. You’re right, I have to decide. I just…I need to get going. Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight, Lynne,” I said as she got in her car. I stood and watched her taillights as she drove off. Goodnight and goodbye. My heart plummeted into my stomach, crushing another flock of butterflies. (It’s actually a ‘kaleidoscope’ of butterflies, but ‘flock’ sounded funnier.)
I called Marla.
IV. GROW SOME BALLS
By the time I got to her house, I was a mess – upset, sick to my stomach, my head hurt, and my heart was utterly broken.
Marla greeted me at the door wearing a pair of spandex exercise shorts, running shoes, and a smile, “Boy, somebody has that ‘kicked in the teeth’ look again. Come in, honey. I’ll fix us a drink.”
“Hey, Marla, sorry to come like this after canceling; and I could use a drink.”
We went to went to the bar in the pool room (not the ‘billiard’ room – though they have a bar in there, too).
When we got there, she pulled out a jug of orange juice and made tequila sunrises – a whole pitcher of them. I guess the doctor knows best.
“Lose the clothes, doll. We’re going to get in the hot tub; I was going to soak. I was working out when you called. Since you weren’t coming over, I had to work off some pent-up energy, if you get my drift.”
I gave a half smile and started undressing. Marla kicked off her shoes, peeled off her workout shorts, then carried the pitcher and glasses of ice to the in-deck hot tub. I followed her and watched her firm ass gyrate, and the fine muscles in her long legs subtly flex as she walked. My spirits lifted a little.
Hey, I’m not shallow, I was still grieving over Lynne, but I challenge any red-blooded male to follow a naked Marla and not get distracted.
She slipped into the hot, bubbling water and I stepped down beside her. She poured drinks, handed me one, then slipped an arm around my shoulder.
“Okay, doll, tell Marla what happened.”
I recounted the incident to her. She listened silently, head back, one arm to the side, the other over my shoulder. When I finished, she sat up and looked at me.
“Brother, you are dumb. Sylvia was right. You’re too dumb to get out of your own way.”
“How do you know what Sylvia said?” I asked, surprised.
“The last time you came here after a dust up with Lynne, you told me Sylvia called you a dumb shit or something to that effect. I agreed then, and now, more than ever.”
“You’re not making me feel better.”
“You’re right. But we’ll get to that in a few minutes. Right now I need to get rid of some kinks. I overdid it on that stationary bike. I need a good leg massage.”
She moved across from me and offered one leg at a time. I started at her ankle and worked my way up her thigh on each leg, working her muscles hard. I know I’ve said it, but Marla has damn fine legs – long, firm, sleek; and they start at the ground and end at heaven. Okay, a tacky, cliched line, but pretty appropriate. While I massaged her legs, I asked why she agreed with Sylvia.
“Honey, that woman is in love with you. That’s why she came to you to ask if she shouldn’t go. She was looking for a reason not to go, as in ‘you love her and don’t want her to go’. And you didn’t get that, so, you’re a dumb shit.”
“Well, fuck. I guess you’re right. But why didn’t she just say that?”
“She’s a female! You know, for a man that really knows how to please women in bed, and brother, do you; you sure as hell are clueless about us, otherwise.”
“I have to agree with you, on both counts.”
She slapped my arm, “Okay, smart ass. Thanks, that felt great. But now it’s my turn to make you feel better. Come on.”
With that she climbed out and directed me to grab the pitcher. I did, and followed her dripping wet, undulating ass all the way up the stairs to her bedroom. I say ‘dripping wet’ because she didn’t bother to dry off, just trapsed through the house naked and dripping, and I followed in like condition, with my wet, cute ass undulating…
As we entered her room (I should say stadium – it’s cavernous), I weakly protested, “Marla, I may be a bit of a disappointment, tonight. I’m not in the best frame of mind for…”
“Honey, trust Marla,” she quickly interrupted, “I have some medicine that will help.”
“Viagra?” I asked, surprised.
“No, better – weed.”
“I don’t smoke that stuff.”
“What are you, a Puritan?”
“No, the shit makes me horny as…oh, gotcha.”
She gave me a wry smile and headed to a jewelry dresser. She came back with a small box that contained about ten pre-rolled joints, then headed to her sitting room – a large, window-wrapped bay extension that sits in one of the two turrets that flank the main part of the house. Next, she went back in the bedroom to a large wall closet and pushed the pocket doors aside, revealing a fridge, cabinets and a counter with a sink, and all the necessary amenities. She got ice and fresh glasses, came back to the tea table in the center of the bay, and sat down. I went to join her.
She caught me before I sat, “Oh, I’m sorry, before you sit down, could you flip that switch over there…yes, that one, thanks.”
She poured us fresh tequila sunrises explaining that she liked to drink while she smoked. “It cuts the harshness of the weed.”
I sat and joined her. I noticed no light went on or off when I flipped the switch; then I heard a soft whooshing sound and felt the slight movement of air. Overhead, in the high, corbelled ceiling, there were four discreet, vent grills imbedded in a square of four adjacent corbels, and obviously, in the space above them was a large, quiet, exhaust fan.
Marla explained, “I like to smoke grass now and then, but I don’t like to smell the stuff.”
I nodded. She downed her drink and I followed suit; then after pouring more drinks, she lit a joint, took a hit and passed it to me. I took a small hit off the very strong weed and coughed, but after that, I adjusted to the smoke and was getting high before we finished the first one. She immediately lit another one; and by the time we were done with that one, I was done.
“One more?” she asked.
“Not if you want to have sex. One more, and I’ll be heading straight for the chips and onion dip, laughing my ass off the whole way.”
She laughed, “Yeah, you’re right, Anymore of that shit, and I’ll be chewing on the drapes. Come on baby, lets wash the chlorine off and brush our teeth. I’m ready. How’s ‘Big Matt?” she asked as she stood and grabbed my hand, pulling me up. “Oh, he’s ready,” she chuckled.
I looked down and saw I had a raging hard-on that I had been unaware of. She used it as a handle and led me to the shower. We cleaned up, brushed our teeth and rinsed with mouthwash, then headed to the bed.
I was on fire, libido-wise, from the pot; and I temporarily forgot about Lynne and my broken, love-sick heart. After our first round of sex, we took a break and sat at the table drinking ice water and tequila sunrises. My mind went back to Lynne, and Marla caught on.
“Matt, dear, you need to grow some balls, and do whatever it takes to get that woman back.”
“Yeah, I know you’re right. But I just don’t want to be disappointed again.”
“What would be more disappointing, finding out she didn’t love you, or finding out she did, and that you missed the opportunity to do anything about it?” she astutely pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right; I need to grow a pair.”
“Okay. So, in the meantime, I’m going to get on my hands and knees and point my rather well-sculpted ass at you, and I imagine you can figure out what to do from there.”
I figured it out.
V. GROWING A PAIR – SORT OF
The following weekend, after my usual at Marla’s, I got home Saturday around four p.m. We usually spend the whole weekend together, but this Sunday, I had a flight to L.A., and I had to leave in the morning, so I came home early to get ready. As I was packing, I got to thinking about Lynne and her trip with Norman. I stopped packing, got a beer and sat and thought about things, about Lynne, about the fact that I was still undeniably, deeply in love with her, and that it hurt more than I could stand that she was going away on a romantic trip with fucking Norman.
After a couple more beers, I reached for my phone. I didn’t know if they’d already left, but if they hadn’t, this could be my last chance to do anything about her. I would be gone until Friday, so I decided I better do it now, and tried to grow a pair.
I cracked open some more liquid courage, and looked at my phone. After another beer, I punched up Lynne’s number, then had another beer. You get the idea. Several beers later, around eight p.m., I finally called Lynne.
“Hello, Matt?”
“Yes, Lynne, it’s Matt. Um, I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, well, okay. Listen, I can’t hear you. It’s noisy here. Can I call you back in a few?”
“Hey, if you’re busy, it’s okay…”
“I’m at a party, but let me call you back; gotta go.”
She hung up. I cracked open another beer. She’s at a ‘party’, probably with ‘Norman’…fuck!
Several beers later, my cell rang.
“Matt, hi, sorry, it was noisy in there. Sorry it took so long to return your call. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, no. Um, sorry to take you away from your party. I need to talk to you…” I was having trouble thinking of how to say what I wanted to – a couple too many beers, and my balls were rapidly shrinking.
“Matt, are you still there? Are you okay? You don’t sound good.”
“Yeah, sorry. I was hoping we could talk before you leave on your trip. You didn’t say when you’re going?”
“We leave this coming Thursday. I, um, you need to talk now? I’m kind of tied up, but maybe, one night this week…”
“Oh, no, never mind. Look, you have a great trip, Lynne. I love you. Take care.”
“Matt…Matt?”
I’d didn’t hear her call my name because I’d hung up, and promptly passed out.
“Matt honey, wake up…Matt…”
Slap! “MATT!”
“AGHH, shit, stop yelling…Sylvia?”
“Good guess, tiger. Let’s get you off the floor.”
“What?”
“We need to get you in the shower. Come on, damn it, I can’t pick you up.”
“What are you doing here?” I was a bit confused.
“I’m trying to get your drunk ass in the shower. You stink. You smell like a brewery. Come on,” she griped as she guided me to the bathroom.
“Let’s get these clothes off you,” she continued, and started undressing me.
“Are we going to have sex?” I mumbled, still confused.
“Oh good grief! Get in the shower, and don’t pass out. I’ll get some coffee going.”
She left and I stumbled into the shower. The hot water felt good. I made it hotter.
What the hell was Sylvia doing here?
I showered, brushed my teeth, gargled, put on a polo shirt and jeans, then went out. Sylvia was waiting at the dining table with a couple cups of coffee.
“Well you smell better, but you still look like shit.”
“Yeah, and my head feels like I look. Guess I had a few too many.”
“A few! I counted 12 dead soldiers. Don’t worry. I cleaned up the mess.”
“Thanks, but I’m a bit confused. Why are you here?”
“Lynne called. She was worried about you; said you called her, told her you loved her, then hung up.”
“What? The hell I did? I mean I called her, but I don’t remember telling her…um, I don’t know what I told her. Maybe I did. But she’s leaving for Niagara Falls in a few days with her boyfriend, fucking Norman, so it really doesn’t matter.”
“Apparently it does matter. She’ll be here soon, probably any minute…”
“What, who, Lynne? Why?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, keep up. You got drunk; you called Lynne; she told you she was leaving with Nathan; you told her you loved her, then hung up; and when she tried to call you back, you didn’t answer. She’s on her way here. She said it would take a while. She was on the other side of town. You with me?”
“She’s coming here? Why?”
“I give up. Have some more coffee. Try to get your act together.”
Shortly, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s her now. Don’t fuck this up, Matt, or I’ll never talk to you again. No, you stay sat. You’d probably fall on your ass.”
Sylvia answered the door and let Lynne in.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes and no. The reason he hung up on you and didn’t answer your calls was because he passed out. Go easy on him, Lynne. I don’t know where you are on this now, but he’s sick in love with you. I’ll leave you to this. Bye, sweetie. Good luck.”
VI. MY BALLS ARE HUGE
Lynne came in and stood next to the table looking across at me, “Hi Matt. Are you okay?”
“Hi Lynne. I’m sorry about this. Sorry I interrupted your party. Um, you didn’t have to come all the way here. I’m sorry…”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Lynne admonished me as she took off her coat and sat down.
“Matt, I need to know something right now. You told me on the phone that you loved me. Was that the beer talking or did you mean it?”
I dropped my eyes and answered, “It wasn’t the beer.”
“Your timing is terrible, Matt! I mean we’ve bought tickets, paid for a room, paid for…Why didn’t you tell me before? Why?” she almost shouted.
I winced.
“I’m sorry, Matt…”
“It’s okay. I just have a bit of a headache. Just a sec; I need more coffee, and some water. I need to rehydrate. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, but I’ll take some water…Sylvia said you drank until you passed out. Was that because of me?”
“Yes, and because I lack testicles.”
“You don’t have testicles?”
“Um, figuratively. Actually, my balls are huge, quite magnificent.”
She laughed, “There’s the Matt I know and love.”
I brought our drinks back to the table and sat down.
“Matt, if you loved me, love me, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Lynne, I tried, um, too late. I mean, I didn’t know…didn’t admit it to myself until, until the Denise incident, when you left. That’s when I realized I loved you. I tried to call you, to tell you…multiple times, but…”
“Yes, yes, I know. I’m sorry. I was so angry, so hurt when I thought…that you were doing…well what I thought you were doing with that redhead, with Denise. Then Sylvia called me and said I was wrong and that I needed to see you and give you a chance. That’s why I came that first time…after Denise.”
I responded, “Oh Lynne, I was hoping that was why you came. And I was ready to tell you then that I loved you, but you told me you had a boyfriend, so I thought you didn’t feel the same way…I was devastated. I saw that you had moved on, and I didn’t want to hurt anymore. Then when you and your boyfriend came and got all your stuff, I knew it was over. So, I tried to move on, too.”
She was shaking her head, “Matt, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that when I told you about Nathan that…oh I messed up. But you just acted like you were happy for me, so I figured that you didn’t have the feelings for me that Sylvia led me to believe.”
“I guess a lot of things worked against us. But Lynne, you haven’t told me how you feel…”
“Jeez, Matt, Sylvia was right, you are a dumb…I fell for you almost from the start. I was in love with you, but you rejected me…”
“What? When?”
“Before my brother interrupted us. I all but asked you to take me to bed, and you cut me off…then afterwards, we kissed, and I thought we would, you know…but then you insisted we go to dinner; and afterwards, well, you were distant, and I realized you didn’t feel the same as me and…”
“I was trying to protect you. I thought it might be a mistake.”
“Sleeping with me, making love to me, a mistake?”
“I thought we might be rushing into something. Under the circumstances, the incident with your brother, your good news over a job, I thought we might be allowing emotions to override judgement. And since my divorce, I haven’t exactly been a choir boy. Truth be told, after my divorce, I started…let’s just say I’d been seeing more than a few Denises. I didn’t trust myself, my judgement, and I didn’t want to make a mistake with you, hurt you.”
“You’re right; a lot of things worked against us…Matt, I don’t know what to do now, but I want you to know without a doubt, I love you; I’ve never stopped loving you. And, you know, before this trip, I tried again to see if you loved me, but…”
“But?! You said you loved Norman, so I really didn’t understand why you were asking me whether you should go…”
“I never said I loved…who’s Norman?”
“Your boyfriend.”
“His name is Nathan.”
“I know that. I guess it’s a defense mechanism. If I don’t say his name, he isn’t real.”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t say I loved him. You asked if I was in love, and I said yes, but I meant to say with you, not him; then, I don’t remember, but somehow, I never got that out, and you made it plain it was my decision…How can two people have so much trouble communicating?”
“Sylvia’s observation, precisely.”
“I don’t know what to do now, Matt. I’ve committed to this trip…”
“No, I understand. I do. Like you said, my timing sucks. But what if you go and…things change, what if you and Norman…Nathan; what if you guys…”
“Matt, I’m not going to stop loving you. I’m ‘in’ love with you, deeply in love with you, not Nathan.”
“Well, crap, we sure wasted a lot of time,” I lamented.
“Yes, we did. Yes, we did,” she said softly, and started to leak tears.
“Lynne, you said ‘so that I would know without a doubt’…Well I want you to know without a doubt that I’m in love with you, that I’ve been sick over it, sick to death. Do you know how many butterflies I’ve killed…”
“What?”
“Sorry, I’ll explain that another time. Look, honey, I tried to get over you…tried to ‘move on’, but to no avail.”
“Matt, is it too late for us to try and start over?”
“I hope not. But I’m not sure how. What about your boyfriend. I assume you’re living with him?”
“Yes, that’s where I moved to when I came and got my stuff.”
“So…”
“I’ll have to tell him, and move out, of course, but, oh brother, this trip…”
“So, go on the trip. I understand. Just come back to me.”
“No, I can’t do that, lead him on like that…and now that I know you do love me…well, I couldn’t sleep with him. What about you, Matt? You said you tried to get over me. I assume that means you had someone, or a few someones…”
“I’ll stop seeing them – all of them.”
“Jeez, Matt, how many are there?”
“Hey, it took a lot of women to assuage my broken heart when you left…”
She smacked my arm, “How many?”
“Okay, just one; a nice lady who had just separated from her husband. We commiserated together.”
“Commiserated? First time I’ve heard it called that!”
“Are you always going to be this difficult?”
“You have no idea!” she sniped, got up and came around the table. I stood and she threw her arms around me, pulling my head down and crushing my lips to hers. I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around me. Glued to each other, we kissed passionately, for what seemed like an eternity, perhaps trying to make up for lost time. When we finally came up for air, she dropped her feet to the floor and wrapped her arms around my chest.
After I caught my breath, I said, “I guess we have to take care of some loose ends…What about your boyfriend? I assume that is going to be difficult.”
“Yes, very…You’ve no idea. Nathan is in love with me, madly in love with me. He knows I don’t feel the same way. That’s why we were going on this trip, to see if our relationship was going to move forward.”
“Yeah, that’s going to be hard. Look, if you need help, I could have him taken care of,” I joked, but in the back of my mind I was trying to think of who I knew that could…
She joked back, “Would you? That’s sweet. No, I’ll handle it, I have to. What about you?”
“Marla will understand. She knows about you and that I’m in love with you.”
“So, tell me about this ‘Marlene’. Should I be jealous of her?”
“Marla. Oh, touché. You got me. Nah, Marla’s kind of old and skinny. But she does have money and a nice place.”
“Matt, seriously, I want to know.”
“Only if you tell me about Norman.”
“Nathan!”
VII. SHOW AND TELL
“I know. So, you tell me about Norman and I’ll tell you about Marlene.”
“You go first,” she replied.
“Hmm, okay. Well, first of all, she’s rich, filthy rich. She’s divorcing her husband, whom she caught humping the maid. She’s 46…”
“Boy, you like the older women, don’t you. I may be too young for you.”
“Are you going to let me tell this? And Marla and Sylvia are the only women I’ve been with who are older than me.”
She interrupted again, “Before you continue, I want to know; how many women have there been?”
“I don’t know. Um, since my divorce…”
“All together, Matt.”
“Oh, hmm, including high school?”
“All.”
“Before I got married, including high school and college, maybe 15, or 20, um, maybe more…I don’t know…”
“Good grief! When did you find time to study.”
“I considered them research.”
“What about ‘while’ you were married?”
“No, I was faithful, unlike TB.”
“TB?”
“The Bitch.”
“Oh. And after ‘TB’?”
“Honestly, in the last year, bedding strange women has been a bit more than a hobby, more of an all-consuming pursuit, like climbing Mount Everest, so honestly, I don’t know.”
Eyeing me, she asked, seriously, “Are you really ready to settle down?”
“With you, more than ready,” I returned just as seriously.
“So, tell me about Marla.”
“Um, not much to tell. She’s tall, slim, pretty. She has long, dark brown hair.”
“Big boobs, like Denise?” she quipped.
“Nope, small breasts, slender hips. She does have a nice ass and pretty awesome legs…”
“Got it, got it. What about in bed?”
“A gentleman doesn’t talk about such things.”
She punched my arm, “We’ve already established you’re no gentleman, so…”
“Fine, honestly?” She nodded. “Okay, she’s a pretty awesome lover – talented, insatiable…”
“Okay, okay, great. Sorry I asked. You could have lied.”
“I was lying. She’s a lousy lay; lies there like a dead fish…”
“Smart ass,” she laughed, and at that moment I realized we were going to be okay.
“So, now tell me about Norman,” I urged.
“Are you ever going to call him by his right name?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, Norman works…damn you…’Nathan’ works at my previous law firm. When I left, I missed getting a couple things, and he called me one day. I knew he liked me, but he had never asked me out. I found out he kept his distance because he knew our boss had his eye on me. Anyway, I was staying with a friend, my bff from college. But her place was small, a studio, and I was sleeping on her couch.
When Nathan called me about my things, he offered to bring them to me, and we met for dinner. Long story short, we started dating and he offered for me to stay at his place. That was when I called you and we got together and had Chinese food, and, well…we won’t rehash that. But, that’s when I decided to move in with him. And that’s when I started sleeping with him…”
“We can skip the details on that,” I remarked, kidding, but only slightly. “So, is he handsome?”
“You mean, does he compare to you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, he’s better looking, taller…” she stopped and grinned, then wrapped me up, “Matt, honey, I’ve never met anyone who compares with you. Nathan’s nice looking, he’s smart and considerate…but Matt, you’re…dark chocolate with a hint of chili powder, and Nathan’s plain vanilla…But he is hung like a horse,” she grinned.
“Oh great, I needed that comparison…”
“You know I was kidding, and what comparison? I never got the chance to compare, which was entirely your fault. Besides, if the rest of you measures up to the size of your balls…”
“Yeah, I might have exaggerated a little.”
Lynne released me, and sighed, “Matt, I wish I could stay right now. I do, and that we could…”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not in very good shape, and I would rather be at my best…especially if I have to compete with a horse dick.”
“Oh, I was kidding, it’s more like a small donkey’s,” she quipped, then said, “Seriously though, and I’m not saying I’ve had a lot of experience to make this assessment, but Nathan is pretty ‘vanilla’ in that department, too.”
“How much experience?” I quickly asked.
“That’s all you got out of that? Are you always going to be this jealous?” She parried.
“You have no idea!” I exclaimed.
I grabbed her and crushed her to me. She immediately wrapped me up and we kissed hard, and long. I felt tears on my face. I almost started crying too. I had spent months thinking this would never happen.
When we separated, Lynne apologized, “I’m sorry. I do have to go.”
I walked her to the door, and we tenderly kissed goodbye.
I went to the fridge, got a quart of milk and ate a half a loaf of bread – If I was going to throw up, I wanted to have something to do it with.
The End of Part Two
Of
NO STRINGS
~~~~~
Continued in Part Three – TYING UP LOOSE ENDS