"You don't think I'm a slut now, do you?" She asked, looking up from the picture. With her bright green hair and the sour-apple sucker in her mouth, she looked like a character from a bad anime.
I couldn't help but wonder why she had shown me the pictures. Was there....?
She nudged me with her hip and brought me out of my musing. "Well, do you?" She asked.
"No....no honey. I don't think you are a slut." I said, shocking myself at how smooth and even my voice was.
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It was her day. The trip to Boston without our kids was my idea, and after checking into a luxury hotel and putting a nice bottle of wine in the refrigerator, I spent the entire first day in the city with Kara, my wife, letting her shop to her heart's content. This delighted her to no end, as our little town doesn't have the shops and selection of a major city. She loved the attention I paid to her and the time I allowed for her to shop with no pressure to hurry it along. In short, she was in a great mood by the time the afternoon concluded.
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"Do you want another drink?"
"No thanks man," I answered with a dismissive wave of my hand. "I think I'm done for the night."
"Oh come on!" Ryan goaded. "Don't be a pussy!"
I just laughed and shook my head at my friend's persistence.
"Fine," I responded in resolution. "But only if Kate has one too."
Ryan cocked his head in the direction of his girlfriend who was seated on the couch beside me, her legs pulled up under her body. His expression revealed his desire for all three of us to continue our night of drinking.
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Flurries flew through the air as Alice and Brian drove through the Michigan countryside. The young moon gave some light to the snow-covered landscape around them, but it was slowly sliding towards the horizon. Brian kept both hands on the wheel as Alice gently massaged his thigh with her left hand.
"Are you nervous, honey?" Alice asked.
"My stomach's doing back-flips," Brian replied. "I've never done anything like this in my life. I was a good Baptist growing up."
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11:45 pm, the Sheraton, Tacoma, Washington.
Rosette Cole was descending in the elevator from her 26th floor hotel room, contemplating her next move. As something that always on her mind, she wanted sex in that place and knew that there would be no problem getting it. But she wasn't in the mood for the ordinary that night; she needed something different. It's not as though she really had ordinary sex at all though; traveling from city to city around the world on the Black Card daddy gave her having one night stands was never ordinary and no two stories alike.
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She comes over after rehearsal for a drink or two around the kitchen island. You've been talking with her for the last couple of months about our sex life- it's been no secret that there was something powerfully sexual that brought us together, but most of our colleagues, although curious, just won't ask about it. But the two of you have been friends for a very long time and she's always been both inquisitive and supportive.
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Prologue
Stacy and I met as sorority sisters in college and have been soul sisters since. Our relationship blossomed into true sisterhood in a way only possible as roommates in a sorority house. We both arrived at college looking for more than a good education; we came to have fun. It was like showing up for a four-year all-inclusive vacation with academic requirements on the side. Three years after graduating, we are now 25 and working. Little else has changed.
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Sophomore year in college, I started dating a sorority girl. Molly was nice, good looks but a pretty boring personality, but I had been without a steady girlfriend since I had gotten to school, so she fit the bill I was looking for.
Her sorority was the one on campus with the worst reputation. Her sisters were always drunk at the bars and going home with guys whose names they didn't even know. I had even hooked up with one of them when we were both freshmen.
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From the moment I woke up I began to stress out, thinking of what lay ahead for the day. I don't like confrontation, and I really hate being the bearer of bad news.
My wife and I retired from the 8 to 5 rat race in our late forties. We pooled our money, bought a small apartment building and became landlords. We have kept the occupancy rate up with fairly good tenants and enjoy a comfortable income, although maintenance will start eating into our nest egg if we don't stay ahead of the game. The building is getting older, so we need every rent check we collect.
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It was a stormy night in Atlanta. My bones rattled with chills as I struggled through sheets of rain that slapped against my body. My thin windbreaker failed it's only job, as I felt the dampness soak into my clothes which sucked onto my skin. It was a terrible night, but this struggle of the elements was worth it. For tonight, I would meet my angel, and nothing would warm my drenched body more than her embrace.
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