Brian and Mona - 3

By Jim Chaffee

I dropped Liz at the airport, anticipating a dull week sandwiched by two dull weekends while she partied with Angela, an old girlfriend of ours. The surprise of a call from Brian perked me up.

"You have plans for tonight?" he asked without any warm-up.

"No. I just dropped Liz off and I'm baching it. I could use some company."

"Meet us for dinner."

He named another trendy place, this one fusion style where they throw together whatever they find in the kitchen and let you decide if it tastes good. The place prospers. People pay plenty for what the local critic raves about.

I made a quick trip to the gym to get a pump on my upper torso. I grabbed a pair of khaki slacks and a coarsely woven, fatigue-green polo shirt that hung on my frame, flattering my chest and shoulders. I knew she'd respond to the look. The contrast of military green with graying temples mixed vigor with intellect. Not a gorilla, but substantial.

I found them seated before a wall of windows opening onto rolling golden hills dotted with clusters of Scrub Oak, the giant red disk of the sun hanging in the background. Mona was out for blood.

Her black hair glowed in a faint vermillion aura backlit by the scatter of the dying sun, setting apart alabaster skin like a cameo. Steely blue eyes pierced with arrows from some demonic angel weighing me body and soul, their bronzed lids beneath dark dagger brows accentuating high cheekbones. She wore gloss the hue of dried blood on the thin, straight lips of her resolute mouth.

Rising as I approached, she watched my every step. She knew better than to dress like a teenager. She knew what worked.

She stood erect in a black, knee-length wrap-skirt, her hips a subtle curve. Black stiletto heels emphasized gentle swell of tanned, muscular calves. Braless beneath a white silk blouse buttoned only enough to expose a hint of cleavage, her breasts pointed at me like nippled pears. Long-waisted with a lithe frame, she embellished her charms with a precision that left everything and nothing to the imagination.

I stopped and openly appraised her.

She smiled and returned the long look, fixing my eyes with a glare I didn't understand. I forgot about Brian until he poked his hand in front of me. I shook it. He looked like he was working at bucking up.

Dinner passed without much back and forth. She asked about my work and I rattled on about some papers I'd written, how they helped me win defense contracts. I made my way through a piece of elk smothered in cherries and mushrooms with a thick brown reduction that disguised the flavor well enough it could have been cat. We drank three bottles of red wine. Brian picked up the tab.

Near the end they talked about going to a strip joint they liked, some upscale dive across town. I didn't tell them I hadn't been to one since my military days. The thought of watching women take off their clothes without participating didn't interest me. But she wanted to go and I wanted follow her.

We left my car at the house. Brian drove a fancy new BMW, fast but with courtesy.

"Nice car," I said, crammed into the back.

"It's important for my work. I take out clients."

"I'm stuck with a minivan," Mona said, leaning toward me between the front seats. I could see the crest of her breasts where the blouse fell away just a little. Her nipples stood out like two dark blemishes in the silk.

"I can't trust her with this car. She's too aggressive. She drives fast and she tailgates."

She flashed me a wicked smile and leaned forward, exposing more tit.

The club extorted an outrageous cover from Brian and me at the door, letting Mona in for free. A barn of a place with a stage surrounded by tiny round tables and plush, leather rolling chairs; gloom, smoke, and a booming bass beat passed for atmosphere.

We took a table near the stage. I noted one other couple and a pair of women. Men made up the bulk of the crowd.

A waitress hustled to the table and Brian asked for Laphroig straight up, water back. I had the same. Mona had a glass of red wine. Before the drinks arrived she disappeared.

Brian yelled over the din that he brought his engineering team here to celebrate major successes. I thought how that would play in my business with Bible-thumping Air Force officers in tow. I could see the straight-laced prigs praying before lifting their drinks. These new guys weren't the military I'd served with thirty years ago.

Mona returned with a busty blonde. She tucked a bill into the dancer's G-string, lingering at the naked thigh, tracing lazy swirls along the mons. She sat for a personal dance, studying the twitching groin in her face as if conducting a medical exam. Afterward she pointed to the girl and then to me, asking if I wanted a lap dance.

I leaned close enough to catch a whiff of musk and enunciated into her ear, "Only if it's from you." She rewarded me with a weak smile. I moved my lips to her ear again and said, "There are no women in this place as sexy as you." The tepid smile straightened into a thin line. She probed me with cold blue eyes.

We spent at least a couple hours in the place. Mona ignored us, watching the stage and interacting with the train of topless women selling lap dances or drinks like Sex on the Beach from tubes arrayed on what looked like cartridge belts. She sat through a lap dance from another busty blonde. Brian bought a lap dance from a skinny brunette with silicon boobs so massive they drooped like water balloons, stretching her chest into a web of angry stretch marks. Captivated by the twin flesh sacks whirling in his face, he appeared on the point of rapture.

I passed on the whole deal, sipping my Laphroig and tuning out as best I could. The noise level precluded conversation.

We left when Mona decided she'd had enough. In the parking lot she complained it was too loud to talk in the club. She suggested going to my place. Brian agreed, mumbling something about being up for scotch, but I think it was a done deal no matter what he wanted.

At the house, she asked for red wine, preferably a cab, so I opened a bottle of Meerlust Rubicon.

"Look at this," she said to Brian, holding up the bottle. "Mere lust."

I read his expression and broke in.

"Well, this is a damned good South African cab. Meerlust is a great vineyard. Right now it's cheap because they just ended the import restrictions, so I got a case. It's worth buying before it goes up."

She tasted. "It's very good. We should get some, Brian."

He didn't answer. They didn't ask where I'd bought it.

I set out water and a bottle each of Lagavulin and Laphroig, pouring them side by side. "These are both Islays," I said. "The distilleries are near each another, but there is a pronounced difference. The Lagavulin is sixteen years old, the Laphroig ten. See what you think."

He swirled and nosed. He mouthed some of the Laphroig, sipped some water, then the Lagavulin.

"They're both good," he pronounced, "but I still like the Laphroig. I'll stick with that."

"It's my choice too," I said.

We surrounded the long dining room table, each defending a separate edge of the polished expanse of red oak shining like veneer in the glare of the overhead light. Brian and I held the long sides, across from one another. Mona stood at the end nearest the master bedroom. Brian peered down into his scotch, holding it in both hands at belt level. He wore an expression of tired resignation, like he had surrendered another piece of his life to some external momentum outside his control. When I turned from Brian to Mona, she set her glass on the table and stared at me.

"I'm glad you guys came back," I said. "I was worried I wouldn't see you again. It's uncommon to find such interesting people in this game. What brought you back?"

Brian turned and walked into the living room.

"I wanted to see you again," Mona said. "To see if I still felt the same."

"Felt how?"

"You surprised me," she said. "I'm bi. But instead of your wife, I was attracted to you."

Brian sat on the sofa, showing us his back.

"Why surprised?" I asked, coming around to her end of the table.

"Because I'm bi and your wife did nothing for me. It was you who turned me on."

"The operative word is bi, isn't it? Does that preclude men?"

She didn't answer. We hovered almost touching. I could feel her nipples reaching out. An erection tugged at my leg. She looked down at the bulge, lingering to watch it creep along aching against my trousers. Then she looked up, her blank features surrendering nothing.

I asked, "Do you still feel the same?"

I wanted to grab her, kiss that inaccessible mouth that looked for all the world to be washed in dried blood. I wished Brian would disappear.

Instead, I said, "I like to watch Liz more with men than with women. But she can really be something with a couple. Very enthusiastic about sucking cock while a woman eats her. We've been to clubs where she drew a crowd with her vocals."

Her blue eyes bored into me.

"We've never been to a club," she said, inching nearer.

"I've seen her with two or three guys, but with couples she's more unhinged. She likes big, soft tits and white skin. Once she gets going she fucks the man. Finishes by using the cock as a dildo. It can be painful. I know. She's rough as hell. I like to watch her get it, but I like to fuck while I'm watching. And listening. She's noisy as hell."

"Maybe someday we'll get up the courage for that." Brian's voice wafted in from the other room. "But I don't know how I'd like it."

He could have been on another planet.

"Let's find out," Mona said, eyes glued to mine. "Do I turn you on?"

My erection throbbed in cramped agony. I wanted to redirect it but dared not disturb the balance of the moment. I could sense she wanted to touch it. Tangible restraint. The moment perspired tangible restraint. I knew Brian must have felt it, with his back to us, still listening from the other room.

"Are you kidding? I've dreamed of fucking you since I laid eyes on you. You are the sexiest woman alive."

She pressed her nipples against my chest. I put my hand on her thigh.

"You want to do it?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Let's do it together. The three of us. Come on, Brian. Are you ready?"

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