I Can't Even Page 3

  He didn’t jerk away defensively this time. He showed me the pages he was looking at. The girl in the spread was a young brunette. Small boobs and trimmed hair at her pussy, the look of the picture suggested a little age. I moved my head and looked at the outer cover. The magazine was printed in 2012.

  He asked in curiosity, “What?”

  “Was just looking at the date.”

  “Yeah, I think these were taken some time ago.”

  I stroked a little faster, then realized what I was doing and slowed down. I couldn’t help myself at this point; I was almost as excited as my husband. Despite my earlier sense of awkwardness, I was having a lot of fun.

  He settled back into staring at one side of the page while I fucked his cock with my fist. His eyes began closing and his moans became shallower. He kept looking at the left side.

  I asked, “Let me see again.”

  He shifted the open magazine so we could both see. On the left was a full-page picture of the brunette kneeling. Her pussy was thrust forward and she had one hand up over a miniscule boob.

  That’s when I focused on her face. She was very cute.

  And…

  I looked closer, my hand frozen.

  He gasped, “Don’t stop.” He shifted the magazine lower and to the side a bit so we could both see.

  I started stroking again, looking at the girl’s nose and eyes. I said hesitantly, “That almost looks like my boss…”

  “Yeah, I guess.” He flipped back a page and pointed at the introduction to the model. “It even says her name is Lexi. Coincidence, huh?” He flipped back to the kneeling picture and his eyes glazed over again.

  I kept up the motions as if my fist were a pussy. He was fucking her in his mind – the girl that looked very possibly like a younger Lexi. And her name… Is that my boss? Did she used to model herself? With a growing certainty, I suspected my husband was using my hand motions to fuck my boss in his mind. The girl certainly did look like Lexi, and of course, the name… and the fact that Lexi had kept this magazine… That could really mean only one thing: the girl in the spread really was my boss.

  Shawn moaned loud, close to the edge.

  Was it so bad I was helping him with this particular picture? It was what I was supposed to do… and it was fun. But instead of some unknown naked girl, I was helping him imagine he was fucking my boss.

  Swirls of tension twisted deep inside my pussy and the pit of my gut. I began to shake with uncertainty and potential loss as I stroked him. At the same time, fire flared in my pussy. I wanted to touch myself so desperately that my voice quavered. “Do you like that picture?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you fucking her?”

  He groaned heavily and lifted his hips. “Oh… yeah…”

  I was mad with lust. And sick with betrayal. “Does her pussy feel good?” I asked it with a particularly tense sliding grip down his shaft. I was dizzy with the need to cum.

  He called out airily and his hips quivered off the couch. Tension trembled in him as he hovered there, eyes squeezed shut. He slowly sat back down and opened his eyes, immediately looking back at the kneeling picture. “Yeah… Do it. Fuck my dick to her.”

  I pumped his shaft.

  “Faster,” he panted.

  I knew he was close, and I was going to make him cum while he stared at Lexi’s pussy. The grinding lewdness inside me was going to make sure my hand was a pussy for his imagination – her pussy.

  I loved it.

  I hated it.

  My pussy might have been twisting one way towards climax, but my stomach was churning the other way. I felt like I was going to throw up. And yet, I fisted his shaft up and down faster, giving him what he wanted – and myself what my pussy needed. I gasped, “Fuck her, Shawn. Fuck her hard.”

  His hips lifted again and he thust his engorged cock up through my fist. His eyes were glued to Lexi’s pussy. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah… deep…”

  I felt his shaft swell as the room shifted around me. I wasn’t even touching myself and the knot of heat behind my clit was ready to explode. His erection jerked and a small squirt of cum arched out. Then he grunted and a long stream of cum erupted, shooting into the air. He drove his hips up and down, fucking my grip and staring at the picture. He was fucking her and it drove my pussy to the edge of orgasm. I wanted to urge myself over the edge and said, “Yes! Fuck her!” But it didn’t come.

  My husband grunted ferociously, cock jerking, hips thrusting, and cum spraying in fast squirts out of his dick. He kept his eyes glued to Lexi until he collapsed, drained. He gasped, “Wow… that was good…”

  I agreed. I had never done anything hotter.

  It was a sexy success.

  My pussy loved it.

  And it was a futile failure.

  I was certain I was going to vomit.

  CHAPTER 7

  Not an hour later, I handed the magazine back to Lexi. “It worked, I guess.” I couldn’t look at her. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  She touched my shoulder and said in a low, smooth voice, “Wonderful…”

  I wanted to ask her if that was really her in the magazine, but wasn’t sure how to broach it without sounding stupid.

  Shawn’s arrival didn’t alleviate my unease.

  When Joe didn’t show up and Lexi produced a camera of her own, I felt just a little bit better. For some reason, I didn’t want any extra people knowing that my husband was getting a second photo set done after getting his dick yanked. I was able to watch this time and she had me turning on and off lights as we needed them. She had an umbrella-looking light thing that she kept me busy moving around.

  She purred to me while he lounged in her office chair, “He’s perfect. See how it looks like everything just takes too much energy for him? Perfect, perfect, perfect. He’ll be a natural for our top clients.”

  Shawn joined us while we set up an angle in the reception area. He asked her, “Hey, was that really you in that magazine?”

  Oh my god! I wanted to hide my face, and I did – and closed my eyes.

  Lexi acted surprised. “Oh, did I give you that one? I did a couple of spreads a few years ago, yes.”

  What? She had looked through her file and declared that one to be perfect. She knew which one she had given him. I looked up at both of them.

  Lexi was hugging his arm to her and looking up into his face with a sparkling curiosity.

  He said, “Whoa, cool! I never met a playmate before.”

  She admonished him, “I was never a bunny. Playboy… wants bigger busts…”

  He colored with shyness. “Oh, uh, I thought… you looked fine…” His eyes flashed to me with a slightly guilty expression before returning to her.

  Lexi beamed and led him closer to me. “Bree…”

  “Yes?” I was hoping for anything other than our current awkward conversation.

  “My husband and I are having a little barbecue Saturday. Why don’t you two come? I’d really love for you to join us.”

  That didn’t sound bad at all, but I worried about what I would wear. “Sure, I guess…”

  She released Shawn and embraced me from the side. Her mouth was close to my ear and sent shivers down my back with her response. “Wonderful. Just dress casual. I’ll give you my address later.”

  Shawn looked bored. I knew he was looking forward to sitting on the couch all Saturday and Sunday playing Dark Souls.

  I moved so that Lexi couldn’t see his exasperating expression. I assured her, “We’ll be there. We haven’t been to a barbecue in…” We’d never been to one together. “In a long time, I guess.”

  She gave me the most smoky adoring look that I blushed as if I had been the most perfect model. She leaned close, lips almost brushing my ear. Her hot breath made my knees waver and wobble as if I were standing on golf balls “I am so glad I hired you. We’re going to make a great team, you and I.”

  Despite all my embarrassment over what I had done with Shawn a little earlier, and our subsequent discovery that Lexi was indeed the Lexi in the magazine, and that I had made him cum looking at her, I was filled with hope and comfort that all was well.

  If she really liked me, then I was going to make my uncle happy and my bank account ecstatic.

  For the first time in two days, I began to breathe as if success was within my grasp.

  Now, if I can just keep from saying something stupid or screwing up what I’ve got…

  CHAPTER 8

  My husband moped. “Do I have to go?”

  I pulled on his arm to get him off the couch. “Please, Shawn. We can’t afford to lose this job. It’s free food, okay?”

  He made a face of consideration and set down the controller. “Yeah… can’t deny free food, I guess.”

  “Please try to act normal.” I needed him to be friendly, not sulky that his game was interrupted.

  He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Whatever.”

  “You’re going to change, right?”

  He looked offended. “What’s wrong with sweats? She said it was casual.”

  I closed my eyes trying to find a well of patience I knew didn’t exist. “Sweats are for around the house. At least put on jeans and a shirt. Besides, your sweats show your package too much.”

  He grinned wickedly and gripped his crotch. “What? You don’t like seeing it swinging around when I walk?”

  I wanted to tell him it was gross and vulgar, but he wouldn’t understand. “Sure, but not other people. What if her husband is gay and wants to grab it?”

  He flinched backwards. “Whoa, I’m not gay.”

  “Then put on some jeans.”

  He coughed in disgust and resignation. “Fine.”

  And it was with that kind of harrow
ing morning that I stood with Shawn at the door of a nice little home with an immaculate lawn and very butchered rose bushes. It looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to them.

  How could anyone other than boomers like a flower that smelled nice but had to put up with those vicious thorns? It was beyond me.

  The man opening the door looked at us suspiciously – especially my husband. I grabbed Shawn’s arm protectively and said, “Lexi invited us…?”

  His face cleared instantly into a relaxed smile. “Of course, of course, come in. I’m Dylan Wass.”

  We both shook his hand.

  Lexi appeared, floating out of nowhere as if she were lighter than air. She thrust her hips forward, leaned her shoulders back from her waist, and clasped her hands together. “You came, marvelous!”

  How could I not?

  How she took such instant control, I knew not. She gripped my husband’s shoulders in a squeeze and brushed his cheek with a kiss.

  Shawn colored and glanced at Dylan.

  Then she was all over me, arm around my shoulder, and leading me away from the men. “Bree, dear, I have a request.”

  “Huh?” What? Was she going to put me to work?

  She led me into the backyard and leaned her head close to mine. “Listen, I’m going to call in a favor… I want your husband to meet someone. Very important. One of our biggest clients. It may just break him right into a top spot or two to launch his career. Can I borrow him next Saturday for an hour or so?”

  I hesitated to answer for Shawn knowing he liked his weekend time for playing games. But this would be no different than having a photo shoot arranged on the weekend. And if he was willing to work on a Saturday for someone’s wedding, then surely he could spend an hour meeting someone. He would be back to gaming in no time.

  She misread my hesitation. “I’d ask you to come along, but I’m not sure Maurice would appreciate more than one—”

  “No, I was just wondering about his photography. I’m sure he can go.”

  She stepped back, lowered her chin and gave me a pointed look and smile. “Perfect.” She twirled delicately to a cart and poured liquid. In less than the time it took me to think of the offer or my response or even the pool in the backyard, she swung back to me and pressed a glass of orange juice into my hand. “Screwdriver?”

  “Huh? Oh…” I looked at the drink. I had heard of them but never had one before.

  “Vodka and orange juice. Simple and delightful. Just like Shawn.” She winked at me.

  I took a small gulp of it and did not get some alcoholic blast I expected. My eyeballs didn’t cross, my throat didn’t burn, and my chest didn’t seize up – not like the time I had downed a tumbler of Scotch on a dare in my sophomore year. I had thought I was going to die. I took another drink and nodded to Lexi. “This is fine, thanks.”

  I tried to be involved, but I found I had little to say around older people. We shared just nothing in common. I longed to take out my phone and scan Facebook. Or do a Google search on how to talk to older adults beyond saying, “Okay, boomer.”

  For most of the time we were there, I sat with Lexi. The guys seemed to be having their own little convo that didn’t include us. It almost seemed like her husband Dylan was interviewing Shawn – really getting to know him.

  I guess I was happy with that and why did nothing seem sharp anymore? I felt the pleasant smile plastered on my face as if nothing could remove it. Whatever this screwdriver was, it was good. And why was the yard and living room wobbling? My feet felt numb, but I walked back and forth between inside and outside the house as if I were floating like Lexi.

  I reveled in my newfound poise and grace.

  Until Dylan and Shawn joined us.

  Apparently the boy-talk was over.

  Sports, probably, no matter.

  But Shawn didn’t like sports all that much.

  I responded to some generic questions from Dylan. I say generic because as soon as he asked and answered them, I found I could not recall what they had been. I was trying to puzzle the last exchange – desperately trying to remember what he had just asked me – when Lexi offered to take my glass.

  Her hand was a little unsteady and her words were slurred. “Would you like one more, Bree?”

  I jerked my empty glass up with as much eager effort as I could. I wanted to show her I was as game as she was. “Oh, sure. These are really good.” I felt warm, fuzzy, and comfortable. Maybe my head wobbled a little and my eyes wanted to close, but the drinks had been very refreshing and smooth. “I think…” I looked around.

  Lexi grinned at me knowingly. “That hall there at the very end. Can’t miss it. I’ll just put your drink here after I refill it.” She indicated the coffee table.

  Relieved, I said, “Oh, sure, thanks.” Both for the drink and the directions to the bathroom.

  I felt a little unsteady as I walked into the hall. The walls seemed to kind of loom in one way and then the other. Surely, I wasn’t drunk? Maybe a little buzzed? As I sat on the toilet, I heard a buzzing sound like a high pitched feedback growing stronger and weaker, stronger and weaker, coming closer and receding. My flesh tingled with radiance and I hummed contentedly as I relieved myself.

  When I came out of the bathroom, I went in search of my doom.

  I was really only looking to get my last drink and relax on the couch, but I was running headlong into imminent dissonance.

  CHAPTER 9

  No one was in the living room when I came out.

  Swimming in the pool hadn’t been offered, but the drink cart was out there. I saw that Lexi had placed my glass on the coffee table as promised. I scooped it up and headed to the open sliding glass door.

  I heard mumbling or something, and stopped in the doorway in shock. Shawn was sitting on the steel-framed loveseat cushioned with weather resistant vinyl. But the patio furniture was the least of my concerns.

  I blinked a few times to understand what I was seeing. At first glance and reaction, Shawn was almost raping my boss. But, no, not exactly. After a couple more blinks and a hand on the frame to steady myself, I saw that it was Lexi being the aggressor. She was practically draped all over his left side, kissing him madly and groping his crotch.

  Of course, my dear husband was sitting open-legged just like men do and I could see she had a grip on his package.

  It was then that she looked at me and stopped kissing him. But she didn’t pull away or act as if she was caught. She just smiled suggestively at me and gave his package a very deliberate and appreciative squeeze.

  My mouth was open and my hand holding the glass was trembling.

  For Shawn’s part, he sat there accepting all her advances as if he was a single guy at a party picking up pussy. He even had one arm around her. His expression when he saw me was happy pleasure and surprise.

  I drew breath to put a stop to this, or tell him to knock it off, or… or… something.

  Lexi’s eyes were still locked on mine and her hand made a slow travel along the bulging length in his jeans – as if she were petting it.

  Two things happened within me right away. First, I recognized that he most definitely had the man-parts that most women would probably appreciate and her public esteem of it actually made me feel good – validated, so to speak. But the second thing that happened at the same time was a selfish swell of resentment within me that said in my head, “Hey, that’s mine.” I was at a momentary loss to reconcile the two.

  Lexi purred and slurred, “He’s so dreamy, Bree.” Her hand petted his crotch once more and then she got to her feet and staggered over to me.

  She was obviously drunk. What could I say that wouldn’t sound petty and rude?

  That’s when I saw the curtain move on the window of the wall facing the patio and the loveseat.

  I barely had time to realize that Lexi’s husband had been watching and had seen the whole thing. Was he about to stomp out here in a rage?

  I tensed up.

  Another thing happened in the split second before my boss reached me. I saw her eyes, glassy and unchanging, regarding me with warmth and interest.

  Right after she had her tongue down my husband’s throat.