Midsummer's Eve (13 page)

“
Well, fo
r starters,
she brings a whole new meaning to
the term bucking and thrashing.”

“
Re
ally?”
How much bucking and thrashing could one woman do? Not that I was prone to either buck or thrash, but it sounded extremely tiresome.

“Yeah, you can’
t keep her still. That girl is all over the place! From top, to bottom, to sideways!
I mean she really…
really gets into it!
”

“What else?”
A
feeling similar to that of impending doom
was
seeping through my entire body. Eric’s face was flushed and he was
absently
scratching his groin area just thinking about her.

“
And she is very vocal!” A leering
smile played across his lips, evidently
remembering Chia's choice of obscenities. He moved behind the picn
ic table and sat down, obviously
in an attempt
to hide the erection that no one at the tables, especially
Mallory
, had missed.

“Like talking dirty?” Okay. That wasn’
t something I was prone to do either. I mean, how embarrassing! I had to be besi
de myself with anger to even utter
the F word.

“
That and moaning and groa
ning and screaming. She
really
enjoys sex!”

“And?”
So she was a screamer. I wasn’t. Big whoop dee do! I couldn’t remember one time when I had even come clo
se to feeling the urge to raise my voice
during a sexual act.

“
And anything goes. I
n fact, the kinkier the better.”

“
Such as?" What was I missing here? Very rarely had the word “kinky” entered my boudoir vocabulary. She bucks, she thrashes, she talks dirty, and screams. What else?

He hesitated and a brigh
t blush lit his face and neck. “
Like I said a
nything goes with her. Anything. Anywhere.
”

“
Anywhere? Like on top of the washing machine or in the back of the car at the drive-in or, heaven forbid, in a public restroom?”

“Um…no.”

“Well, where?
Oh.

Oh!

You…don’t…
mean…”

Oh!

Ouch!

Say it isn’t so!

“Yep
.
”
He must have been having a particularly naughty memory the way drool was forming in the corners of his mouth
. “I swear, you will
have to get me some vitamins, and perhaps a prescription
for Cialis to keep up with her.”

Always the glutto
n for punishment I had to ask, “
Okay. Be honest. On a scale of 1 to 10
how would you rate her in bed?”

“
Are you sure you want the truth
, Eve
?”

Nope,
I didn’
t. But tell me anyway. “Yes.”

“
15
.”

Honestly, such a dreamy look settled over his gorgeous face that I was tempted t
o fire him on the spot. However
,
I was sure that was a slightly exaggerated
figure. It had to be!
Eric had worked for me for almost a year
and I had never known him to give a female a score higher than 12.

Oh man, if looks could kill Eric would be a dead man at the hands of
Mallory
, whom he had ranked at
a measly 12. I never should have told her, but at the time it was the ultimate compliment to her.
“
Then you shouldn’
t have a problem going back for seconds, shoul
d you?
”
I snapped, close to tears.

“
Hey, don’
t get mad at me.” He grinned and came around the table to hug me. “You asked for the truth, didn’t you?
”

“
I know. Of course, you’re right.
” I couldn’
t be angry with him for being honest. Although he certainly could have lied just a little given the enormity of the s
ub
ject matter! “I’
m sorry, Eric.
”
Nevertheless
,
t
he
number 15
was
still slicing through my heart
like a Ginsu knife
.

“It’
s okay,” he said with what he surmised were comforting words. “I’ve known people who’ve been dumped and they say it hurts like hell.”

Dumped! Such a vicious little word!

“
Oh, I
almost
forgot to tell you
something else
. Her cell phone
was ringing like crazy the entire
time. I guess it was
Adam
. She finally turned it off.”

“
So, other than the spectacular
sex, is she falling for you?”
I had
heard enough about Chia’
s porn star
theatrics for one day. “
Enough so that she will end it with
Adam
?”

“
I’
m meeting her tomorrow night at 8:00.” With that said he proceeded to grin one of those cocky grins that only good-looking men can carry off
. “Does that answer your questions?”

Yep, sure did. That one sentence spoke volumes. Chia was giving up a fun filled Saturday night of erotica with
Adam
to spend time with her new boy toy Eric. What woman of m
ediocre intelligence wouldn’
t? Alas, that could only mean that
Adam
had been knocked from his vantage point of the
highest perch on the totem pole
and would be alone on Saturday night.

Poor baby! But he should have known. Once a ho, always a ho.

“
Do you think you can get invited to her house, so
Adam
will see your car there? I don’
t want her sneaking around behind his back in her accustomed manner. I want it thrown in his smirking face and him smacked
right between the eyes with it!”

“
I take that to mean you want me to spend the nig
ht at her house tomorrow night.”
Eric thought about this for a minute, a bit hesitantly it seemed.
“He won’
t do one of those crime of passion things and come a
fter me with a machete will he?”

“
Heavens no!” Just the thought was humorous. Anyone who knew
Adam
would know that Eric had nothing to fear. “
Adam
will park down the street and wait. When he realizes you’re spen
ding the night with the precious
one he will leave, beside himself with grief, and call tomorrow assuring her of his undying love and begging for another chance. You have to convince her, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, that you are the undisputed ma
n of her dreams. Can you do it?”

“In my sleep.”

“I don’t believe you’ll be doing much of that.” To be so young and arrogant
! “
Call me and let me know if you get invited to her sleep
over.”

“If?”
He seemed
to find the word quite humorous and slightly insulting.
“
I will pretend
I’m c
alling my mom to tell her I won’
t b
e home. Chia doesn’
t know I don’
t l
ive at home and probably wouldn’
t understand me if I tried to tell her. She only wants my body.”

Duh!

“When I call it will be my
signal that I’
m staying over.”

“
Perfect.” If he spent the night at her house our plan would be a resounding success.

Oh boy! Was I ever a nervous wreck the following day? To keep my mind from rambling and imagining plan gone wrong scenarios, I took my mom for
her first ever pedicure.
She complained incessantly, like I was taking her to have her toenails removed instead of polished, during the entire drive to Perfect Nails.

“Ain’
t nobody got no business touching my feet.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Y
ou know them folks don’
t wanna b
e handling somebody’
s feet
they don’
t even know.”

“They don’
t mind, Mom.”

“I could go to the Dollar Store and
probably
get
three
bottle
s
of polish for a dollar and paint my own toenails.”

“I’
m sure you could, Mom.”

“Why would I pay good money to have a stranger rub my feet?”

“You’re not, Mom. It’
s my treat.”

“I ain’
t never heard nothing as crazy as a woman rubbing another woman’s feet.”

“If you say so, Mom.”

“Why would a woman my age care if her toes looked good or not, when her legs look like somebody done took a
blue
magic marker and scribbled on them?”

“Women should try to look their best at any age.”

When we arrived, I
led her to the polish section
and instructed her to choose a color. Instead of the reds, which I assumed she would choose, her hands fluttered over the neon section.
Go ahead, girl!
She chose a bright fluorescent orange, and then sank back in her chair sullied up like a bull. Although I could tell she was secretly excited.

Excited was putting it mildly. She nearly swooned with pleasure as the petite Asian lady vigorously massaged her feet and then scraped a neat pile of dead, calloused skin from her heels. She chatted with the lady in the next chair with a vibrating voice and relaxed contentedly in her massaging chair, which had been adjusted to the highest speed.

I had recently gotten a pedicure, so while receiving my manicure I glanced back at her and could tell she was positively loving every minute of her pampering, but she would probably never admit it to a living soul.

Finished, she ever so carefully padded over to where I was sitting. She was a colorful sight with her bright blue, cushiony toe separators still in place between fluorescent orange toenails that I was sure would glow in the dark. Grinning broadly, she complimented the artistry of the lady who had painted dainty white flowers in the center of each of her
big
toenails and said, “Do you think I need a manicure too?” all the while eyeing my French manicured nails.

“Yes, I believe you do.”
Well now, a manicure
and
a pedicure? Mom was stepping out of the country for real. “Go up
to the
front
desk
and add your name to the manicure list.
”

She wrote her name, while I ste
adfastly prayed that she wouldn’
t choose the same fluorescent orange for her fingernails.
Whew! She didn’
t. She extended her hands for inspection to the lady at the desk and then received her own French manicure.

“How often do we need
to get this done?” She
asked,
admired
her fingers and toes
during
the ride home.

Don’
t you know, sometimes I could just pinch her?

Later that night, I was a bundle of raw nerves waiting for the phone to ring and almost jumped clear out of my skin when it finally did at 12:02.

“
Hi, Mom. I won’
t be coming
home tonight,”
Eric mumbled around what sounded like someone trying to swallow his tongue.

“My God! Is she on you?”

“
Yeth
.”

Either he had been taking speech lessons from
Tammy
or he was having some difficulty trying to force the words around
what sounded
like
an
object
that was lodged in
his mouth. Oh! What if it wasn’
t her tongue?

“
You like
y
?”
She purred a very short distance from the ph
one, followed by some enthusiastic
smacking and slurping.