Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 (14 page)

Fluid dripped from her mouth to the
floor. Cum or saliva, I couldn’t tell in the moment.

She released me, and leaned back to
admire her handiwork. My cock still throbbed, aching, ready for
another round.

Katie got to her feet and kissed
me. I tasted my own saltiness in her mouth.

“
Be a dear and clean up,” she
said. “I might have more games for you later.”

I smiled like a doofus as she
walked away. The stairs creaked as she ran upstairs.

And like a flash of lightening as
the most inappropriate time, I remembered what was missing from the
fridge.

A bottle of Zinfandel I had bought
yesterday. For Katie and me to share tonight.

It was gone. And I had no idea
where it went to.

2

The shower turned on upstairs
after a few minutes. I spent the time thinking, over and
over,
where the fuck is the
wine?

I opened the fridge again, scanned
the counters and the island, looked under the sink. Nowhere. I had
gone to the liquor store yesterday afternoon, bought the Zinfandel,
and discussed politics with Benny the cashier.

And now I was losing my
mind.

A peep out the patio door told me
the wine wasn’t likely outside. But I wasn’t about to go out there
yet, not in the buff, least of all while it was raining.

No way I could ask Katie where it
went. Knowing her, she’d laugh and tease me about losing the wine
until she told me what she did with it. Must be one of her silly
games she played to frustrate me. She often hid things—toilet bowl
cleaner, toothpaste, shaving cream—just to see if I noticed, and
then send me on a quest to find the missing object.

I wiped my cum off the floor with
hot water and a rag. The kitchen felt cold, now the sex was
over.

So I staggered upstairs, still a
bit shaky. The shower was still running, fog crept out the bathroom
door like ghostly fingers. Inside was a sauna, oppressive and hot
enough to peel the wallpaper.

The glass shower door concealed
Katie as a feminine silhouette, washing her hair, hips rotating to
and fro. After a while, she turned toward me, pressing a hand
against the glass.

“
Are coming?” she said. “Or just
standing like a dope?”

“
Out of come,” I said. “Maybe I’ll
watch for a bit.”

“
Jack ass.”

I slid open the shower door and
stepped into the sticky hot spray. The water burned my skin. I had
no chance to get used to the temperature, because Katie grabbed me
by the back of the hair, fingers curled tight, and kissed me.
Breathing suddenly became hard in the steamy shower with our
tongues locked together.

To my surprise and pleasure, I
sprang back to attention, my cock head touching Katie’s abs, just
below her breasts.

I grabbed her arms, above the
elbows, and wrestled her away.

“
Is something in the water?” I
said.

“
What do you mean?”

“
I mean, you’re insatiable
today.”

“
Only today?”

Katie bent her knees, about to go
down on me again. But I stopped her with my fingers under her chin.
I pecked her lips again, and then got down on my knees.

I spread her thighs apart, and
planted little kisses on the inside of her legs. Up. Closer to the
spot.

And skipped over to the thin
landing strip above and grabbed her ass in both hands. Katie’s eyes
slitted, like a hypnotized viper. One wrong move, and she’d attack.
So I let my hands keep her hypnotized. Wandering up her hips and
waist, following the curves, the smooth wet skin, the underside of
her breasts.

A moan escaped her
mouth.

I brushed my mouth against her pink
folds. The pussy musk was already heavy. No amount of soap and
water could clean that.

A little taste, wet and sweet. I
nibbled her clit, slow and gentle. A lick here with a rough tongue.
Some pressure there with my lips and teeth. Across the opening,
around the labia, and pulling it apart like a flower, little by
little.

Until finally…

I slid my middle finger in. Just
the first knuckle. Enough to make her squirm her hips. I pulled
back out, but not quite a full retreat, and flicked her clit.
Pressing, faster, round and round.

Katie tossed her head back, lolling
side to side, lost in the rhythm. Her breasts jiggled when she
bounced on my finger. I responded by shoving more into her
pussy.

Two fingers.

Faster. Wet, slick sounds with each
pump.

Her moans became desperate.
Needy.

She tried to say something. Mumbles
really. Dirty talk. “Fucker” maybe. Or “fuck yes don’t stop fuck
fuck fuck…”

Hard to tell, when she lost
control.

Katie grasped me by the hair and
shoved my face to her pussy. So I could worship her
better.

I lapped at her bean, and pumped
her with my fingers.

“
I need… need,” she said. “Your
cock. Please.”

My answer was to keep eating
her.

To keep sliding in and out. Fast
enough to make my arm sore.

Katie quivered. She pushed my head
away now. Completely lost.

She rubbed her clit while I finger
fucked her hole.

Warm juice dripped down my
forearm.

Katie leaned against the shower
wall, now spent and exhausted. I got back to my feet and kissed
her. No tongues this time. Just a gentle lip lock.

“
You’ll get my cock,” I said.
“Later. If you’re good.”

“
Oh God.” Katie nestled into my
shoulder and I held her close under the shower spray.

3

The rain clouds finally parted.
Sunshine poured into the parlor window in streams across the baby
grand. Turned out to be a nice day after all.

This was our routine on the
weekend. Wake up. Do our own activities. Fuck each other senseless.
Then ignore one another until dusk.

Katie dressed and left with purse
in one hand and a list in the other. “Gone shopping,” was all she
said.

I wore a t-shirt, jeans, and
sandals. I had a mission while she was gone. By damn, that bottle
of wine stood no chance against my persistence. We were sipping
Zinfandel tonight.

The patio was clear. The smells of
spring were in the air—tulips and roses in the garden, fresh cut
grass next door, new buds on the trees. No wine. Nothing but the
outdoor furniture, the sun umbrella, and wet cedar. But on second
glance, a glint caught my attention. Between the lounge chairs, on
the deck. A fluted glass.

With pale pink lipstick smeared on
it. Katie wore red, unless it was a blue day.

I picked up the glass, unsure what
to think yet. I didn’t know of any friends who wore that
shade.

The doorbell rang. Twice in a row.
I nearly dropped the flute. Instead I placed it in the kitchen
sink. On the way to the door, I wondered whether to wash off the
lipstick smear or not.

My mind wandered to a situation
where Katie accused me of having female company over. But that was
absurd. We had talked about swinging, but that was all it was. And
our sexual energy was always spent on each other to the point of
near exhaustion at the end of Sunday.

I unlocked the deadbolt and opened
the door to a gorgeous and skimpily dressed woman. She was younger
than Katie, no older than thirty. A pair of wedge sandals
accentuated her calf and thigh muscles. The hip pockets poked out
of the bottom of her cut-off denims. A black tank top clung to her
torso. Her hair was blue-black, and fell lazily about her
shoulders, which made her green eyes all the more
exotic.

“
Hello,” I said. “Can I help
you?”

The woman shrugged, a blush
darkening her skin from the cleavage busting out her top, to her
neck, up to her cheeks. Her top rose with her shoulders, showing
off a slice of her midriff. She promptly pulled her shirt back down
tight.

“
Tom?” she said. “Katie’s
husband.”

“
That’s what she calls me. You a
friend of hers?”

“
Yeah, we work together. Well,
used to. I’ve moved to another company.”

“
Want to come in?”

She nodded quickly, and stepped
inside. She smelled like a bottle of lavender lotion, the kind
Katie likes so damned much.

“
Sorry. I didn’t catch your
name.”

“
Mandy.” The smile pinched her
dimples deep.

“
Something to drink? I have soda,
water, maybe wine somewhere.”

“
I’d love a Zinfandel, if you have
some.”

“
Might be fresh out.”

“
Shucks!”

“
But I’ll look.”

“
Thank you.”

I made a show of poking my head
into the fridge. I shrugged and raised my hands in mock defeat.
“Beer, instead?”

“
Naw. Too early to drink. I’d love
some raspberry flavored water, though.”

“
You seem to know my fridge better
than me.” I poured her a tall glass of the water, and myself one
too.

“
I’ve been over before,” Mandy
said. We clinked glasses in toast. “Thanks.”

“
What’d you say your name
was?”

She repeated it for me. I nodded
sagely, as if trying to burn the name into my memory. She seemed
familiar now, not that I’d met her, more like Katie had mentioned
her once or twice.

Mandy stared at me as she drank,
eyes narrow, cute smile dancing across her face, a little secret
caught up in her eyebrows. She was cute, and almost naked if not
for the skimpy clothes.

For some dumb reason, my cock
decided it liked Mandy a bit too much. I pressed my pelvis into the
kitchen island to keep it from being too obvious.

In a flash, my mind wandered to the
fantasy of having two woman in my kitchen, within a twenty-four
hour span.

Then I banished the
thought.

My dick hurt with the awkward angle
I had jabbed it into against the island.

“
Not sure when the woman will be
back,” I said.

“
Huh? Oh!” Mandy laughed like a
hyena, too high-pitched. Might’ve been annoying if I weren’t
undressing her with my mind. “It’s fine. I can come back
later.”

“
You’re no bother.”

Mandy set her glass down. Her eyes
turned a shade serious. “No. I think I’ll come back around later.
I’ll give Katie a ring this afternoon.”

“
Sounds like a plan.” I tried to
make my smile winsome. Not sure if my disappointment
helped.

I walked Mandy to the door. At the
last moment, she turned. A little too close to me, one boob pressed
against my forearm. The blush in her cheeks returned, rosier, and
migrated to her forehead.

“
I hope to see you again,” she
said.

“
You’re welcome her anytime,” I
said. “Come back soon.”

“
Oh,” she said. “I
will.”

I opened the door for her, and
Mandy left. She strutted down the driveway, to a shiny red car, not
even turning around to wave goodbye.

My cock made a tentpole for the
whole neighborhood to see.

4

I tried to watch TV, but it was too
hard. Literally.

Channel surfing only brought up
shows that bored me, so my brain wandered from infomercials and
badly scripted soap operas to… sex scenes between my wife and
Mandy.

“
Perv,” I said out loud. Did no
good. My cock plugged its ears with cotton swabs, and if I stayed
around the house for ten more minutes, there was going to be cum
flushed down the toilet.

Katie would be
disappointed.

So I turned off the tube and
grabbed the keys. The first bottle of wine was lost to the great
beyond, apparently where alcohol went to die, undrunk and lonely. I
hope they have good beer on tap there.

The only option now was to just buy
a new wine.

I drove to the liquor store,
focusing on traffic and thinking about pink elephants the entire
time so Mandy had no chance of making me hard.

The Third Street Liquors was on
Michigan Avenue, for reasons Benny never fully explained to me. It
was located conveniently next to an insurance man, and beneath a
real estate office.

Inside always smelled like a tin
can sprayed with lemon scented air freshener. Benny, a white haired
man with a serpent tattoo crawling up one arm, stood guard at the
cash register.

“
Here to claim the Doll?” he
crooned, a wizened crooked smile twisting unnaturally.

“
You done with her?” I
said.

“
Pretty girls like that don’t give
me the time of day. Unless I blindfold ‘em first.”