Private Pleasures (14 page)

"Another adventure," Nora laughed weakly. "I think I need a drink."
"Me too. Can you pour us one while I go wash off Big Dan?"
"I'm still hot," she told him.
"Me too," he said, and she looked down to see his penis still hard.
"Go wash. I'll pour us something, and meet you in bed," Nora said.
There was champagne open on the bar. She poured them two flutes, and took them into the bedroom. She could hear him showering as she set the narrow goblets down, and pulled her dress off. He came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped about his loins, and looked at her, naked but for the garter belt and stockings.
"Don't take those off," he said. "I love fucking a woman in a garter belt, Red."
She handed him one of the champagne flutes. "Here's to garter belts," she toasted him with a grin.
"Garter belts!" He raised his flute at her, and drank the champagne down in a single gulp.
They put the goblets down, and sliding to her knees, Nora took him in her mouth again. Her fingers dug into his buttocks. The smell of soap on his skin was intoxicating. Within the briefest time he was ready again, and they fell on the bed. He pushed her legs up, and thrust himself into her warmth with a sigh. He moved on her slowly, slowly as they enjoyed this nearness, and when he found himself beginning to get bored he pushed her legs straight up, and drove deeper into her, thrusting and withdrawing, thrusting and withdrawing until she was sobbing softly.
Why had she never had sex like this before The Channel? Nora wondered. Every movement he made she felt acutely. When he raised her legs all the way up, leaning against them, his dick had gone deeper than she had ever felt. She could sense the impending explosion coming. "Yes!" she sobbed, and then it happened, and they came together in a wild burst of lust. She actually swooned with her pleasure, and when she revived she curled up against him, and he tenderly enfolded her in his embrace.
"Will it always be like this?" she asked him.
"Until you tire of me," he said softly.
"I'm not going to tire of you," she reassured him.
"Good," he told her. "I don't want to lose you, Red."
"You're jealous of Rolf, aren't you?" she asked him.
"I don't like it when you do other men, Red."
"But I may want to now and again," she warned him. "I've led a very circumspect life up until now, darling. But you'll always be here for me, and I'll always want you more than I want any of the others."
"Are you going to remain in The Channel?" he wondered.
"Not tonight, Kyle. I'm saving that for another time. Maybe I never will. I don't know. The Channel has become my refuge, I think, but I'm not ready yet to disappear from my own reality. Mr. Nicholas says it will appear as if I am unconscious when I do. I'm not sure I want to frighten my family like that."
"What if I said I wanted you here with me always?" he tempted her.
"I don't know," Nora answered. "If we were together all the time, would we grow bored with one another, Kyle? I don't think I'd like to spend my life in this apartment, as wonderful as it is. If I could be in my reality like I am in The Channel. If you could be with me there instead of here. It would be perfect, I think, darling."
"Your husband wouldn't like it if you looked like this and had me as a lover. He might even consider coming back to you. Is that what you want, Nora?" He was angry, and definitely jealous.
Nora pulled out of his embrace, and looked down into his face. "No, Kyle, there are no circumstances under which I would want Jeff back. He's a pig. You are the man for me. You're tender and gentle. You're thoughtful of me. And, my darling Mr. Gorgeous, you aren't bad on the eyes. And the best thing is that as long as we are here, we'll always be the same, right?"
He smiled up at her. "Right, Red!"
She smiled back. The phone rang then, and they heard the wake-up call. "I might as well go now," Nora said. "We've certainly had a busy evening, haven't we?" She got up from their bed.
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yes," she promised. "J. J. won't be home until Monday late." Then turning, she walked back into the living room, and placed her hand on the television screen. The now familiar pop sounded, and she was back in her recliner. Reaching for the channel changer, she clicked the set off, and standing up, she went upstairs to her bedroom. She needed a shower, and she was exhausted. Kyle was a tireless lover. Going into her bathroom, she pulled off her nightshirt, and then she stared shocked. She was wearing a green lace garter belt, and sheer stockings. This had certainly never happened before. Nora shivered. Well, if she had ever needed any proof that The Channel was real, this sure as hell was it. She couldn't wait to tell Carla. She undid the garter belt, and laid it aside, rolling the stockings off her feet. Showering quickly, she fell into bed.
She awoke early the following afternoon and, reaching for the phone, called her best friend. "Come over," she said. "I have something to show you."
"Be there within the hour. We're just up after the party. Kids left at sunrise for the mountains. I'm bushed. God, they danced till dawn, and the music! Thank God we're all friends, or someone would have called the cops for sure."
"Funny," Nora laughed, "I never heard a thing."
"Ohh, I know what you were doing," Carla singsonged. "See you shortly."
Nora dressed, and as she did, she felt a slight soreness in her ass. I can't believe I did that, she thought, but it was really exciting. I'm not sure I'll do it again. She pulled on her shorts and a T. Going down to the kitchen, she considered making coffee, but she didn't want coffee. She wanted iced tea. There was some of that mixture left from yesterday. She was still tired. Yesterday had been a big day, and then last night's activities had added to it all. Pouring herself a glass of the cold tea/lemonade mix, she went out onto the terrace by the pool, and sat down.
It was a beautiful late June day. The sky was clear, and the sun hot on her shoulders. There was a faint breeze. The water in the pool lapped against the steps. She had roses in bloom— reds and pinks and whites in one corner of the yard, yellows and peach and apricot in another corner. She got up, then sat back down on the top step of the pool, and dangled her feet in the water. It was so quiet. So peaceful. How she loved it, and she wanted it always to be this way. And it would be. She wasn't going to let Jeff take her home away from her. She heard the gate creak, and turned.
"Hey," Carla said, coming into the yard. "Whatcha drinking?"
"The stuff from yesterday. I'm pooped, and I always get extra thirsty when I'm tired like this. Go help yourself if you want some."
"What I want is to know what happened. You sounded really spooked when you called, Nora."
"Did you ever bring back something from your visits in The Channel?" Nora asked her best friend.
"Something? What do you mean?" Carla said.
Nora got up. "Come into the house." She led the way, going upstairs, Carla following. In her bedroom she picked up the garter belt, and the stockings. "I came home last night in these," Nora told Carla.
"Holy crap!" Carla breathed. "You don't own anything like this."
"Nora Buckley, this reality, doesn't. But Nora Buckley of The Channel does, and I was wearing them last night when I woke up."
"Pretty snazzy." Carla grinned. "Just what is your fantasy?"
"Penthouse apartment, Mr. Gorgeous, and a masseur named Rolf," Nora replied with a half smile.
"What's Mr. Gorgeous's name?" Carla pried.
"Kyle," Nora told her.
"And he likes you in green lace garter belts," Carla said.
"It matched my wrap dress," Nora said. "I could hardly visit Mr. Nicholas unless I was properly dressed."
"Boy, two guys don't satisfy you, and you got three? You're almost as bad as I am," Carla chuckled. "Every time I recruit a new crew, I screw 'em all before we set sail."
"Mr. Nicholas is the administrator of The Channel," Nora told her friend. "I wanted to meet him because there were things I needed to know, questions that only he could answer. I could hardly go to his office looking like a tart in my blue silk shorty robe," Nora said.
"There's someone who actually runs The Channel?" Carla asked, sounding surprised. "And you met him? And he has an office? What's he like?"
"Sure, someone runs it, and yes, I met him, and his office is out of
Architectural Digest,
old-money edition, and he . . ." She stopped for a moment. "He's nothing like I thought he would be. I was thinking Louis Jourdan, or Ricardo Montalban. In fact on reflection he reminds me of that nineteen-forties-movie character actor, Claude Rains. He has two secretaries and an assistant named Margaret, and we had tea before a fireplace, with chocolate biscotti."
"No way!" Carla exclaimed.
"Way!" Nora said, laughing. "It was almost bizarre except it was so damned civilized. The tea was that really good gunpowder green, and the biscotti were heaven."
"What did you want to know from him?" Carla said, curious.
"I'll tell you that another time. Just tell me, babe, did you ever come home with a souvenir from The Channel?"
"Other than a hickey?" Carla replied with a grin. "Nah. And I know none of the others have either. They'd freak if they did, and tell. And I'm not certain this isn't creeping me out, Nora."
"It's creeping me out a little too," Nora admitted. "It's like one of those too-good-to-be-true scenarios you read about."
"Hey, we get charged for it on our cable bills," Carla said. "So did this Mr. Nicholas answer all of your questions?"
"I suppose he did, but in a very roundabout way," Nora responded.
"You going to keep going to The Channel?" Carla's dark eyes were curious.
"It's like potato chips," Nora said. "You just can't eat one. Yeah, it helps me not to collapse with fear over this whole situation, especially now that I've met my replacement. She no beauty, but she's pretty, isn't she?"
"She's young," Carla answered. "I figured about thirty, thirty-one. And she dresses well, and she's got a good body. I'll bet she goes to the gym every day. She hasn't had any kids, although maybe she'll have one once they're married. These second wives always like to have one kid to take the attention away from the first wife's kids. They never really feel safe as long as the first wife and her kids are hovering in the background," Carla said.
"Where do you get all this information?" Nora demanded to know.
"Oprah. Dr. Phil. Jerry, and Jenny," Carla said. "And every damned women's magazine has articles on your situation. You aren't the first woman to be dumped by her husband for a younger woman. You won't be the last."
"As long as I get my house," Nora replied.
"Listen, hon, I wouldn't count on keeping the house," Carla said, sitting down on Nora's bed. "Rick says they're going to really have to do a number to even get you half its value in cash. And really, Nora, what the hell do you want this big place for anyway? The kids are practically gone, and you aren't going to have the money to keep it up. It's a lot of work, and we're not getting any younger, babe."
"I'm not letting Jeff take my house," Nora said stubbornly.
"Look, there's a great new condo community opening up right on the old Carstairs estate on the bay. Half the value of this house would buy you a nice two-bedroom, and you would always have room for the kids."
"No," Nora said. "The house is mine, and I'm not letting him have it, Carla. He can have everything else. The kids can take loans for the rest of their schooling. He can cut me off without a penny, but the house is mine."
Carla sighed. There was no point arguing further with Nora. Something was happening to her, and it had begun with her first visit to The Channel. Nora was suddenly exhibiting a strong will, and she was getting thin too. But none of that meant anything because the best Rick's law firm was going to do, the absolute best, was to get Nora the cash value of half of the house's selling price. And that would be a real battle with Jeff's world-class divorce attorney.
Nora spent another incredible sex-filled night in The Channel with Kyle. She wasn't certain when she would be able to get back. J. J. returned home after his mountain sojourn, and immediately started his summer job. He would be heading off to State in mid-August. Sports teams reported early, and he was a member of State's junior varsity, thanks to his scholarship. On one hand Nora dreaded his leaving. J. J. was good company, and he made her laugh. But on the other hand she could barely wait for him to be gone. She needed Kyle, and the passion that they shared between them. It had become more than just mindless sexual games. He was openly and obviously in love with her, and Nora was certain she was beginning to feel the same way.
Her days were filled with all the things a mother does for a son going off to college. She made lists, and bought items she would never have bought for herself, but that she knew he would need and appreciate, like a sandwich maker and a small coffeepot. She and Carla shopped together because Maureen would be going two and a half weeks after J. J. They bought sheets, pillowcases, towels, washcloths, and down comforters. Margo's generous graduation gift to her only grandson had allowed him to buy a nice laptop, and the rooms in State's dorms all had Internet access cable connections. Oh, brave new world, Nora thought, remembering how up-to-date she had been in her freshman year with a small electric typewriter. And as the day came closer for J. J.'s departure, Nora began to pack her son's possessions, glad she was alone and could sniffle over the very worn Clifford the Big Red Dog stuffed toy that J. J. had always loved.
Those were the good days. There were bad days too, like the day she and her attorneys met with Jeff and his attorneys. Her husband, certain of victory, was pompous and unyielding. Nora was certain he had expected her to weep and go to pieces. Instead she had attacked him verbally and told him he would get their house over her dead body. She accused him of stealing the kids' college funds, and when Raoul Kramer had protested, Nora had attacked him too.
"If those accounts didn't belong to the children, why did he show them to the kids every goddamned Christmas morning and tell them that those accounts were their college funds! Jill went through her undergrad studies in three years on the interest from her account. Do you know what your client did, Mr. Kramer? He fraudulently stole those accounts last spring. He went to the kids and had them sign papers telling them it was for tax purposes. What he obviously did was get them to sign paperwork taking their names off those accounts so he could have the money to spend elsewhere. He refused to pay our son's freshman year at State. J. J. has a sports scholarship, but it was our neighbors who gave him the money for his dorm room and meal plan!"