The Juliette Society (23 page)

We don’t see Bob again until the early evening when he and Gena come down ready to go out for an evening commitment – a charity fundraiser he just can’t get out of.

Jack and I have been sitting out on the deck all afternoon, sunning ourselves on the loungers and taking in the view. And at one point, he leaned into me and whispered, ‘Bob and Gena are going out.’

I smiled and gave him a look that said, and what are you saying?

But I already knew exactly what he meant. We were going to have the run of the place to ourselves. And we could do what any young couple would do when left to their own devices in a stranger’s house.

Jack’s really thrown me for a loop now and I can’t work out what’s got into him, because he’s not just into it, he initiates it. We’ve been on this break and, even before that, I haven’t been able to rouse his interest for weeks and suddenly it’s like he’s a new man. It’s like the first time we got together, the first time anyone gets together, and we fucked like bunnies anywhere and everywhere we could.

Jack’s not without daring but spontaneity, it’s not really his strong suit. He always likes to be organized, he always likes a plan – even if it’s concerning surreptitious sex in the boss’ house – unless someone else is making the decision for him, unless it’s me.

We wave Bob and Gena goodbye as they drive off in Bob’s car, a beautifully kept 1968 cherry-red Cadillac DeVille convertible – what else. As they circle around the drive, Gena waves back, calling out over the sound of the engine, ‘Now, you kids be good and don’t wreck the place.’

Little does she know.

We watch them disappear around the curve of the road and the second they’re out of sight Jack starts running through the house, tearing his clothes off, and the last thing to come off are his shorts, which he drops just as he reaches the edge of the pool and dives in.

I get rid of the dog by hurling the squeaky toy into the garage and then locking the door after it races inside. Just to give it a reality check and make it realize it’s not as smart or cute as it thinks. I can already hear it start to whimper as I walk off.

I get to the pool to find Jack treading water in the middle. It’s a lovely warm evening and golden hour is fast approaching. Jack’s hair is wet, his face is shining, he looks so beautiful, and happy, and I can’t wait to join him.

I start to take off my clothes but not quickly enough for Jack, because he calls out to me from the pool, ‘C’mon, what you waiting for? It’s beautiful.’

I walk along the diving board, stand right at the end, and balance myself as I feel it give underneath my weight. I’m still in my bra and panties, because I want to tease him and take them off ever so slowly, in full view of him. I start to unhook my bra and then decide I’m going to peel off my panties first instead and then change my mind again and reach up to my bra. And, as I do, I have déjà vu.

Whenever that happens to me, it almost feels like a mystical experience. Like I’ve suddenly and inexplicably been made aware of a dream that’s mapped out my entire life before I’ve even lived it. That somehow the barrier between my dream life and my real life has broken down, and I’m able to see what happens on both sides of the mirror at the same time. Real life feels like a dream and the dream feels absolutely real. And I feel like I’ve grasped a fundamental secret about reality that no one’s ever expressed before. Then, just as quickly as it arrived, it’s snatched away again, and I’m left with that horrible nagging feeling of not being able to place how or why I even felt that way in the first place.

This time it’s not a memory at all, it’s a scene in a movie I love that I’ve made my own. I’m Cybill Shepherd in
The Last Picture Show,
preparing to skinny dip at the pool party while everyone’s watching her, turning her embarrassment at getting naked into a cruel sport.

It’s not like I have anything to be embarrassed about because Bob and Gena’s nearest neighbor is all the way on the other side of the valley. They’d have to have binoculars trained on the place to be able to see us. But there’s just something about getting naked in the open air that I’ve always found intimidating. Getting naked in public, no problem. I don’t mind people looking at me. It’s the eyes I can’t see that drive me crazy.

And like Cybill Shepherd, I eventually throw caution to the wind, drop my panties and dive in. And as the cool water sheathes my skin, I forget all my silly hang-ups. I open my eyes and I see Jack’s body hanging there underneath the water and swim towards it. Jack is a body without a head. Shimmers of sunlight refracted from the surface of the pool are dancing across his torso. And, as he treads water, his cock and balls are bouncing up and down like he’s in zero gravity.

I reach out to grab his cock, and he must have seen me, because he darts away, swimming on his back and kicking water. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the other side and then he rests his arms over the edge of the pool and just hangs there. I come up for air right in front of him and he looks so pleased with himself that he was able to out-smart me.

I put my hands on his shoulders, plant a kiss on his lips. His lips are so warm and mine so cold that I just let them linger there because it feels so good and we nuzzle. And I let my body bob up and down with the water as it laps against the side of the pool so that it’s brushing up and down against his.

I hang as low as I can in the water so my crotch is touching his, and the shaft of his penis is nestled in my pussy hair. When I feel him get hard, which doesn’t take long, I reach down and grab his cock and say, I got you now.

And he laughs.

I give his cock a few pumps with my hand and then I take a really deep breath and fill my lungs so full of air it feels like they’re fit to burst. He looks at me as if it say, what are you doing? And I duck my head underwater, still holding his cock.

Have you ever tried giving a blow job underwater? It’s not easy, but pretty incredible at the same time. As I open my mouth to take in Jack’s cock, bubbles of air pour out of it and I watch as one tiny little bubble slowly rolls down the shaft of his penis and lodges in his pubic hair. I clasp my lips around the head of his cock as quickly as I can so that my mouth doesn’t fill with water and suck.

Now it’s like everything’s happening in slow motion. My hair is swimming around me like seaweed and wraps itself around my head like a scarf until I can’t see Jack any more, I can only feel his cool hard cock as I work it in and out of my hot mouth.

I have one hand working the shaft of his penis and the other pressed against his chest to stop myself from floating away. He reaches down to fondle my breasts and I feel them wobble and bounce. Then he takes my nipples between his fingers and thumbs, holds them firmly and gently pulls them towards him. I feel the slight tug on my breasts as they shift their centre of gravity and gently bump back and forth, like a moored dinghy, while the rest of my body works his cock.

It feels so good down here, and I feel so safe, that I don’t want it to end, even as I can feel the oxygen in my lungs depleting and my head starting to get dizzy.

I’m working Jack’s cock with my mouth, taking him in a little deeper each time and I take him in just a little too deep, because the head of his cock hits the back of my throat and I gag and choke. Bubbles pour from my nose. Water rushes into my mouth. And I come up gasping for air.

I get my breath back and we swim over to the shallow end of the pool. I sit on the second step, my upper body out of the water, my arms over the edge of the pool. Jack gently parts my legs and I wrap them around his back as he puts himself inside me and starts fucking me, slow and steady, so I can feel him draw all the way in and all the way out. And as he does so, the water laps against the bottom of my breasts. I squeeze my legs tighter around his back, to tell him I want him to go deeper.

The sun is disappearing behind the hills and casting this brilliant burnt orange glow into the sky. All I can hear is the evening song of the birds in the trees, the water lapping against the side of the pool, my moans and Jack’s moans. It feels like the perfect moment, and it seems like all of our problems have melted away: Jack’s unwillingness to have sex, the barrier between us. I wish it could always be this way.

We get out of the water and traipse back to the house, still dripping wet and flushed with passion. Once we get inside, I bring a sheepskin rug down from the bedroom that Gena put us in and lay it down in front of the fireplace, while Jack stokes the fire Bob left burning for us, so we can dry ourselves off.

We’re sitting side by side, cross-legged, in front of the fire, and I turn to Jack and say, ‘I want you to fuck me in the ass.’

Now, that may not sound all that romantic, but maybe you had to be there because it sure felt like it at the time. Right there, right then, I couldn’t think of anything more intimate than having anal sex with my boyfriend in front of a roaring fire.

I said it on a whim, because I couldn’t think of anything more delicious and perverse than looking back on this weekend and thinking, we had anal sex in Bob DeVille’s house. Did that really happen? And I said it as a dare because I know Jack’s in the mood and I want to see how far I can push him to do something he would never suggest on his own. Not here, not now. Not in a million years.

It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy fucking me in the ass. I know he does. And especially because it’s something I won’t let him do all the time, because I don’t want him to get used to it. I want it to be special. Like eating truffles or oyster or caviar, because if you ate them all the time it would lose its thrill. It wouldn’t feel like a luxury any more. And ass-fucking is the luxury food of sexual positions.

I believe nature gave us, men and women, multiple holes for good reason. To put things in and push stuff out. And I intend to use them all because, otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting good use out of my body, and it would be such a waste.

There’s just one thing missing though from this little scenario I’d dreamt up for me and Jack.

Lubrication.

There’s no polite way to say this:

Jack’s cock is just too big for my ass.

Lubrication is not only desirable, it’s required.

Let me put it like this.

You know when you’re browsing for shoes and you’ve fallen completely head-over-heels in love, if you’ll excuse the pun, with one particular pair in a specific style and color. They’re just perfect and you feel like they’ve been waiting there all this time for you to find them. But the assistant comes back to say they’ve just sold the last pair in your size and the only ones they have left are one and a half sizes smaller.

And, size be damned, you’re determined that you’re going to try them on anyway, because you have to have this shoe and you’re not going to leave the store without them. You manage to slip it in halfway without much effort at all, but then it gets stuck just past the instep. It’s half in, half-out, and you tell yourself, it’s really not as small as you thought. That you’ve gone this far so you figure another little push will do it, another push will get it in, and then the leather will start to give. It will start to stretch and mold itself around your foot and the shoe will be yours.

So you give it another push and you manage another half-inch but now it’s really stuck and it’s super painful. And it doesn’t matter which way you move it, in or out, it sends this shooting pain all the way through your foot, all the way through your body. And you curse yourself for being so greedy and dismissing basic common sense that tells you something that big could possibly fit into a hole so small.

And if I’m not all greased-up and ready, that’s what ass-fucking feels like for me. A shoe that doesn’t fit. That doesn’t mean to say we haven’t tried.

In that scenario, the shoe is on the other foot, so to speak. Jack is the foot and I’m the shoe. And my butthole is in so much pain and his cock feels so big that he might as well be trying to put his foot up my ass. It hurts that much.

He’s determined it will fit and I’m determined it won’t. And the only thing I can do to convince him otherwise is to let out a blood-curling scream, as if he’d just stabbed me with a bread knife. Then he pulls out. Fast.

I’m sure there are women who like the pain, who see it as an endurance test. I figure Anna probably would.

Not me.

But I’ve got the idea firmly lodged in my head now. I want Jack to fuck my ass in Bob DeVille’s house, in front of his fireplace, on his sheepskin rug. It feels so deliciously wrong, and so right at the same time. And I know Jack’s game, so I’m determined to follow through.

I remember that Gena told me she was big into baking and I’m pretty sure I saw a tub of Crisco up on a shelf in the kitchen, so I tell Jack to take a look and go get some. While he’s gone, I stare into the fire and watch the embers glow and become hypnotized by the flames.

He comes back carrying the whole ten-pound tub and a huge grin on his face, as if he intends to use it all. As if he’s planning on giving me a Crisco enema and sending an entire football team through my asshole. And I say, yeah, you and whose army?

He puts it down beside us and prizes off the lid and scoops a little dollop onto his two middle fingers, holds them up for me to see and says, ‘Open wide’.

I get on all fours and he kneels at my side, pulls my butt cheeks apart with one hand and smears the Crisco around my hole with the other. It feels like cold-cream and I feel my butthole pucker from the cold, then relax again as his fingers stroke and prod around it, warming me up.

I reach around and tug his cock to get him hard. And once I feel him getting stiff, I slather some grease along his shaft and pump my hand back and forth so it’s covered and we’re both good and mucky.

He positions himself behind me, one hand flat on my butt as he teases his Crisco-covered cock into my pussy. And it slides right in without any fuss or friction. He gets straight into gear, settles right into a rhythm, and he’s sliding back and forth with the precision of a piston. He has his hands wrapped around the top of my butt. He’s pulling me down as he rises up and our sex collides somewhere in the middle.