Fifty Shades Shadier (6 page)

Authors: Phil Torcivia

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #FICTION / Romance / Contemporary, #Contemporary

BOOK: Fifty Shades Shadier

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“Where are you going? You’re missing out on a fine vintage,” I sniff. “It’s an earthy nose, and, do I detect hints of green apples and asparagus? Yes, I do.”

The limo drives off. I shake off and retire for the evening, wondering what Bea has in store for me tomorrow.

Chapter Nineteen

God gave man a penis and a brain, but not enough blood to use both at the same time. – Robin Williams

I’m finishing my domestic chores as Grant arrives to take me to the bachelor party. Two of my friends are in the back with road sodas.

“Damn, you guys are doing some pregame,” I observe.

“You know it,” a rear passenger, Joe, confirms as he hands me a Silver Bullet.

“Too bad we don’t have any entertainment for the ride,” says Grant.

“It’s all good. There will be lots of talent at The Purple Church,” I reassure him.

We arrive at the club and are escorted toward a VIP section next to the main stage. Many of my other pals are there, as is Kazuko. I deliver high-fives all around and give Kazuko a big hug.

“Did you have any lap dances yet?” I ask her.

“You friends nice, but you men all pigs. I watchin’ you. Behave or I kick,” she threatens.

“No worries.”

I play the role, although I’d rather be taking care of my love, who is still feeling under the weather. The ridiculous 80s big-hair music plays as the DJ announces the dancers’ silly names and reminds the men about lap dances and special VIP dances. My boys are lining up the women for me. I sit on my hands during the dances, reminding myself to deliver everything to the dry cleaner on Monday.

“Next up,” the DJ blares, “gentlemen, please welcome, for her very first time on stage: Lovergirl.”

Fuck ... me.

Out of the back strolls my girl, wearing a silver mask and brown wig. She moves seductively to the thump of my favorite track, “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails.
Yes, I so want to fuck you like an animal, right now.

Most of my friends haven’t met Bea, and the others don’t recognize her. Even Kazuko is clueless. Men begin walking up stage-side with wads of money. I’m slightly jealous, and absolutely aroused. Grant notices my excitement, walks over, gets her attention, and whispers in her ear while pointing at me. Lovergirl nods and resumes her time on the pole.
Looks like someone feels better.

Bea collects quite a bounty as the boys make it rain. She strips all the way down to pasties and a G-string.
God, she’s so fucking sexy! I’m a lucky man.

“Gentlemen, put your hands together for Lovergirl. Great job! She’ll be available for lap dances, so hit the ATM, boys.”

Grant returns and plops down in the seat next to me as the server brings another bourbon rocks.

“Lovergirl is going to give you a special VIP dance. She said you should meet her in the back in five minutes.”

“I’m in, Brother. That woman is delicious.”

“No kidding,” Grant concurs.

I take a few drags on my beverage, go toward the rear, and ask a bouncer for directions. He sends me down a corridor past a bank of rooms. Most are occupied. I approach one and do a double-take.
Holy shit!
It’s Chris, and he has a woman bent over his lap—
my woman!
He spanks her hard. She squeals.

“Bea!” I yell. Chris looks up at me—his eyes wide with horror. “You piece of shit,” I say as I slap him across the face. He rises up, bright red with anger. Bea gets up and turns around.
Shit. It’s not Bea.
It’s Annie—the woman from the bar last night. Chris is the asshole boyfriend she was telling me about.

Chris grabs me by the throat and backs me against the wall.
I’m a dead man.
I try to pry his fingers from my throat. Bea appears in the doorway.

“Chris, what are you doing? Let him go!” she insists as she grabs her stomach.

Bea vomits in front of us. It splashes on Chris’ alligator shoes. Chris releases me. I gasp for air.

“Dude, I’m sorry. I thought that was Bea. Honey, are you OK? Jesus,” I recoil.

Kazuko arrives to console Bea in the doorway. Bea looks up—her eyes glossed over.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Twenty

Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down. – Ray Bradbury

That revelation presents a major problem for me as Chris, Annie, Kazuko, and I all say in unison, “What?”

“I’m pregnant,” Bea repeats.

“That’s nice Bea, but I’m sterile. I had a vasectomy last March,” I respond, trying to suppress my anger and confusion.

“I know.”

“You
know
?”

“Yes. The four fluids; remember?”

I turn my attention to Chris, as does Annie.

“Don’t look at me,” Chris professes while raising his hands.

“It’s not yours either, asshole,” Bea assures him.

Whoa, she swore!

“Thank God,” Chris responds, while wiping his brow.

“Wait a minute, then whose is it?” I ask.

Jesus. There’s yet another ex I need to deal with?

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I used a sperm donor. Mormon, this was before we met. I didn’t want to bring it up and scare you away.”

“Yeah, well, guess what? I’m not scared. Oh,” I turn toward Chris, “and she’s right, you
are
an asshole.”

Chris raises his big mitt to my throat again. Instantly, Kazuko springs to action, stands between us, and pushes Chris back. She’s so tiny; she barely comes up to his chest.

“Touch him again and prepare to die,” Kazuko threatens. Chris has no idea what to make of her as he lets go of my throat.

“Fuck you, old woman. I’ll beat your ass too.”

“Try it,” Kazuko dares as she digs into her pocket.

What will it be? Nunchucks? A Throwing Star?

Kazuko pulls out a Marlboro and a lighter as we all watch, trying to understand what this crazy woman is up to. She lights the tip and takes a long drag—making the tip glow bright orange. She blows the smoke in his face and changes her grip on the cigarette, holding it like a knife. Chris goes pale gray, then white. He screams a guttural cry, turns, and runs out like frightened cat. Annie shrugs and follows him.

“What the ...”

“You don’t want to know,” Bea insists.

Pussy.

I step over Bea’s mess and console her.

“Baby, are you OK?”

“Just queasy. You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? I love you, Bea—every inch, every toy, every passenger. If you are considering me for the role of parent to your child, I’m honored.”

“Of course! It would be
our
child. I love so you much, Daddy Mormon,” she cries as she hugs and tries to kiss me.

“Um, yeah, I love you back. Now,” I respond as I pull away a bit, “let’s get you some Listerine, and then we’ll have that kiss. Cool?”

“Cool.”

Love draws us along a twisted path, with unexpected obstacles, leading to beautiful new pastures. There’s no one I’d rather share this trip with than my Lovergirl.

THE MIDDLE.

About the Author

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