Fine Lines

by Simon Beckett

  For a moment they stayed locked like that. Then their bodies were moving slowly and rhythmical y together. Zeppo supported himself on stiff arms, his chest suspended above Anna's breasts, lightly brushing them. Her legs were spread wide, knees raised, her heels digging into the bed as she pushed against him. Her eyes were shut tight, and each time their lower bodies met she gave a low moan. Her face was rapt, but Zeppo's was expressionless as he watched her writhe under him. Her hands raked down his flanks, clutching his buttocks, and as her movements became more insist ant a sensation of heat began to grow in my groin. The two bodies began to smack together more violently. He lowered his head to her breasts, sucking fiercely. She wrapped her legs around his waist, almost doubling herself up under him. He lifted his head to look down at her, his face glazed with sweat and concentration, and increased his tempo stil further. She cried out, throwing her head back and tossing it from side to side, and I felt the heat in my bel y spreading. She cried out again and clung to his shoulders, and as her mouth contorted in a silent scream, I looked in the mirror opposite and saw a second Anna and Zeppo framed there and almost cried out myself as I was racked by a sudden hot spasm.

  I closed my eyes, lost to it, almost fainting. Then it was ebbing, and as the tension left my limbs I sagged weakly back into the chair, and only at the last moment remembered it was stil by the door.

  I clutched desperately at the nearby table as I staggered backwards, almost knocking over the jug of water. I only just managed to retain my balance and froze, heart bumping, waiting for signs that I had been heard. But none came. Shakily, I went back to the wal and peered through the thin band of light.

  Anna and Zeppo were stil locked together, but now al urgency had gone. Anna lay limply, eyes closed, one hand gently stroking the nape of Zeppo's neck. Her legs slowly slid down his until they rested on the bed once more. He lay between them, supporting himself on his elbows, looking down at her with a clinical detachment that contradicted the sweat coating his body. When Anna lazily opened her eyes and smiled up at him, he smiled back: when she closed them, his smile vanished.

  I should have left then. I had assumed Zeppo had reached his climax with Anna, and that now they would separate, perhaps talk for a while and eventual y sleep. I only wanted to linger until then, to see a rounded ending to what I had brought about. But a moment later Zeppo began slowly to move his hips again, and it was too late for me to leave. I had to stay and watch.

  His face stil held its same detached expression as his buttocks began to gently rise and fal with a slightly circular motion. He studied Anna's supine body and face coldly, as though the actions of his lower body had no relationship with the rest of him. At first there was no response from her. She lay passively under him, and except for the hand that lightly stroked the back of his neck, she could have been asleep. Zeppo continued to move in the same unhurried, steady rhythm.

  For what seemed a long while nothing happened. Then Anna shifted slightly, a luxurious, cat-like motion. Giving a low murmur, she began to stir against him.

  As if this were the signal he had been waiting for, Zeppo turned his head and looked directly at me. Without breaking or altering his pace at al , he closed one eye in a slow, deliberate wink.

  The acknowledgment was like a cold shock. I drew back from the hole, and stood in the darkness uncertainly, almost giving way to the impulse to leave. But the urge to look back through the sliver of light overwhelmed it. Instead I fetched the chair from the doorway, sat down, and put my eyes to the gap again.

  I caught them as they were changing position. Zeppo was sliding his legs under Anna's, his hands behind her back, lifting her. She had her eyes open, smiling at him as they came up into a sitting position, facing each other. They kissed. Then Zeppo lay backwards until he was flat on the bed, and Anna was upright and astride him. She smiled.

  "It's my turn now, is it?"

  "I've got to save my strength." Leaning over him, Anna began to move her hips. Her hair fel forward, curtaining her face. Her breasts swung. Zeppo reached up to fondle them, craning his neck to bring them to his mouth. She pushed him back down on to the bed and bent to kiss his chest. Lifting her hips, she began to edge slowly backwards. She slid gradual y down the length of his body, her hair trailing across him, obscuring her. She moved until she was kneeling between his legs and her head was above his groin, and there she stopped.

  Zeppo's face, which had remained impassive, now held a nicker of animation. His eyes briefly shut, and he put his hands to Anna's head in a gesture almost of benediction. Her hair stil concealed what she was doing, but then, with a glance towards me, Zeppo moved it to one side.

  The gross, slimy object was in her mouth. Her lips were stretched and distended as they conformed to its shape. Hands and fingers stroked and squeezed. Her cheeks hol owed and bulged as her face descended, engulfing more, then rose until the entire length of it was exposed.

  Her tongue circled, ran down the shaft to its base, then retraced its path. Her lips pursed to kiss the tip before suddenly covering it once more, slobbering over it like an uncouth child with a stick of rock.

  I could feel Zeppo's eyes on me. I looked away from the spectacle and saw that he was looking towards me with an expression of amused contempt. As if he knew I had chosen that moment to look at him, he gave a groan, and with both hands on the back of Anna's head, slowly thrust his hips up at her. More of him slid into her mouth as he arched his back, holding her head in place. She pul ed against his grip; waiting until he subsided before descending on him in a series of quick, gulping jerks. He groaned again, louder. But when his head turned towards me again, his eyes were stil cold and control ed.

  Abruptly, he lifted her head from him. Freed from Anna's mouth, the thing slapped wetly back against his stomach. Kneeling up, Zeppo kissed her before urging her into a new position. She swung around until her feet were towards me, and at his coaxing lay back on the bed and opened her legs. I was directly opposite. The curly, almost black hair at the juncture of her thighs was entirely visible, and so too was the pink gash that bisected it. It glistened like an open wound, even more so when Zeppo put his fingers to it and spread it wide, exposing a glutinous hole. Then Zeppo pivoted until his crotch was once more in front of Anna's face, angled her on to her side, and put his mouth to the raw oval of flesh.

  He kept his head tilted so I could see what he was doing. His tongue lightly circled, then pierced its centre with a quick stab. I lifted my gaze to the mirror, and saw Anna inverted, her mouth on him as before. I looked away, back to Zeppo. His tongue and

  fingers stretched, probed, and manipulated. Heads busy between each other's legs, they remained locked until Zeppo pul ed away and knelt upright again. His face was flushed, and there was a new urgency to his movements as he helped Anna reposition herself on al fours.

  Kneeling behind her, he moved until they were angled obliquely away from me. There was nothing now I could not see. With one hand on her buttock, he guided himself into her with the other, permitting me to see every detail. Then, gripping her by the hips, he gave a brief glance in my direction and thrust into her. Impaled, she responded by throwing back her head, exposing the line of her throat. I stared at it, clutching at its beauty, but even that disappeared as her head sank down on to the bed and she whimpered, rocking back on her knees to offer her rump to him more prominently.

  They coupled like dogs. Zeppo grunted each time he slapped against her with the viscous sound of disturbed mud. His hands gripped and clutched, pul ing her back onto him. She squealed. Their rutting became more frantic. He no longer glanced towards my hiding place. His mouth hung open slackly, his grunts growing louder, and it was then I became aware of the smel . Rank and feral, it came to me faintly, but once noticed it was as pervading as rotting fruit. Suddenly the sense of deja vu returned. For an instant, my mind was taken to the dream, and I had a brief vision of another, similar scene peering through the crack of light in a partly open door, looking past the trail of disca
rded clothes, past the puddle of white silk on the carpet to the two naked, grunting figures on the bed, staring beyond the clutching white limbs to the faces … and then I had jerked my head away and was blundering from the room, fleeing from the strip of light and the awful, bestial noises. I reached the door at the end of the hal way and fumbled with the lock, unable to see in the darkness, but then I was outside and the noises were gone, and the night was cool, and empty, and quiet.

  I stood on the pavement in front of the house, panting. A breeze chil ed the sweat on my body, making me aware of how damp my clothes were. When I started to shiver I walked back to the car. I felt clammy and unclean. My clothes clung to me, sticky and abrasive. Every inch of my skin seemed sensitive to the slightest nuance of texture.

  The cool upholstery of the car greeted

  me like a balm, and I sat for a while without turning on the engine.

  When I drove away, I went past Zeppo's flat without looking at it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I intended to leave the house early the next morning. But I slept late, the result of having lain awake until almost dawn. When I realised what the time was I panicked. I quickly showered and dressed and went downstairs. The shower was a mistake, but although I had had one the night before my body stil felt soiled and sweaty. Even so, I might have escaped in time had I not lingered for a cup of coffee. I had no appetite for breakfast, but it seemed unnatural to leave the house without anything. I told myself that ten minutes would make no difference, and had just taken my first sip when the telephone rang.

  I did not answer. I knew who it would be, and cursed myself for not leaving sooner. Or at least having the foresight to take the receiver off the hook. I tried to ignore it, hoping the ringing would stop, but the telephone continued to clamour for attention. I picked it up.

  "Morning, Donald. Not got you out of bed, have I?" Zeppo said.

  "No."

  "What's the matter with you?"

  "Nothing."

  "Doesn't sound like nothing." I hated the sound of his voice. "What do you want?"

  "My, we are tetchy this morning! I thought you'd be ful of the joys of spring. Obviously I was wrong."

  "I asked what you want."

  "Wel , a little civility wouldn't go amiss. But if that's too much to ask for, I thought I'd pop over and see you. Have a chat. Exchange notes. Settle up."

  "I'm on my way out."

  "Oh, I'm sure you can stay in for a while longer. Don't you want to talk about last night?"

  "It'l have to wait."

  "Donald, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to avoid me. You're not, are you?"

  "Of course not."

  "Oh, good. Then let's say I'l see you in about an hour."

  "I've told you, I'm going out."

  "Wel , now you're not," he said, and hung up.

  I was tempted to leave anyway. I had no desire to see or speak to Zeppo, and it would serve him right to have a wasted journey. But I knew I would have to face him sooner or later. I might as wel get it over with.

  Predictably, he was late. When I let him in he looked even more pleased with himself than usual, if that was possible.

  "Who got out of the wrong side of bed this morning?" he asked. I ignored him, leaving him to fol ow me into the lounge. "Don't say you're not talking to me, Donald?" I turned to face him. "I would appreciate it if we could settle this quickly. You're late as it is."

  "I'l consider my wrists smacked." He went to the drinks table. "Don't mind, do you? You can have one yourself, if you like."

  "No thank you." Despite the fact that I was standing, he sat down, stretching out his legs as he took a drink. "So are you going to tel me what's wrong, or not? You've got a face like a toilet pan."

  "Nothing's wrong. I've simply got a lot to do, and the sooner you leave the sooner I can get on with it."

  "We real y are in a shitty mood, aren't we? If you're pissed off because I'm late, it was because I took Anna home before I came here.

  Am I excused now, or do you want a note from my mum?"

  "You mean Anna was stil at your flat when you cal ed me?"

  "Put your eyes back in, Donald. She was under the shower. She didn't hear. And I didn't tel her I was coming to see you, so you've got nothing to worry about." He stretched.

  "Anyway, you should grumble. I was expecting a leisurely morning in bed, but the sil y bitch got a sudden attack of the guilts and decided she had to go. I managed to give her a quickie in the shower after I'd cal ed you, but that was al . I think she felt disloyal about enjoying

  it so much." He grinned. "That didn't seem to bother her too much last night, though, did it? What did you think of the show, by the way?"

  I did not answer.

  "Come on, talk to me. Was it al right or wasn't it?" I looked away, wishing he were anywhere but with me. He grinned. "Don't tel me you didn't enjoy it? Your big night?" There was mocking concern in his voice.

  "You came here to col ect the picture. I suggest you do that and then go."

  "Where are your manners, Donald? I didn't rush you out of my flat last night, did I? Be sociable. I only want to make sure that everything was okay, that's al . I aim to please. If you've any complaints I want to hear them."

  "I haven't." He was enjoying himself. "I'm afraid I don't believe you. Come on, Donald, tel Uncle Zeppo what's upset you. I can see something has.

  I'm sensitive like that." He waited. I said nothing. "If you won't tel me what it is, I'l only have to guess." I hated his games. "Nothing. Everything was fine."

  "Ah ah, Donald. You're tel ing fibs. Did I forget to do something, is that it? I tried to give you a selection, but I suppose I might have missed something out. If you were expecting something a bit more exotic you should have told me. I don't mind doing requests."

  "The sketch is on the table. Take it and get out."

  "Donald, Donald, that's no way to treat someone you've just shared a beautiful experience with, is it?" He assumed a look of exaggerated concern. "You're not jealous, are you? Is that what's wrong? You didn't like watching someone else shafting your heart's desire. Is that it?"

  "Do we have to go through this charade?" He grinned. "Yes, I'm afraid we do. You got what you wanted, and since it's pretty obvious you didn't enjoy it, I think it's only fair to tel me why. After al the trouble I went through I deserve to know that much." I remained silent. Zeppo sighed. "Okay, since you won't co-operate, on with the guessing game. Let's see, if you're not jealous, what else could it be?"

  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

  "Only trying to help. If you're not happy, I'm not happy. So why aren't you happy?"

  I wanted to dent his smug composure. "Why didn't you tel me your real name was Crispin?" His grin vanished. "Don't try and be clever, Donald. It doesn't suit you."

  "I seem to have touched a nerve."

  "Don't flatter yourself."

  "Then it won't bother you if I tel everyone what you're real y cal ed?"

  "I wouldn't try and be a smart arse if I were you. You're in no position to."

  "Real y? I don't see why not." He gave a hard little smile. "Because if you piss me off, I'l punch you in the stomach until you piss blood." His smile grew less strained. "But we're getting away from what we were talking about, aren't we? About why you didn't enjoy the performance. Come on, Donald, what was the problem? Wasn't it how you imagined it?" I turned away. "Ah-ha! I think I've touched a nerve there, myself, haven't I?" I told myself not to give him the satisfaction of responding. His face leered at me. "So actual y seeing Anna shafted didn't fit your sweaty little idea of how it should be, is that it? The event didn't match the fantasy?" He smirked. "I'm right, aren't I?" I could not keep quiet any longer. "You did it deliberately, didn't you?"

  "Did what deliberately?"

  "Debased everything! You deliberately set out to spoil it!" He seemed genuinely surprised. "Spoil it? What are you talking about? How did I spoil anything?" I knew I was making a mistak
e, but could not stop. "You made it as obscene as you could! The things you did! Al that ... that positioning, so I could see everything!"

  "I thought that was what you wanted?"

  "Not like that! It was disgusting!" He smirked. "Personal y, I thought it was pretty good. And your precious Anna didn't seem to find it too horrible either."

  "You intended to ruin it for me from the start, didn't you?" Zeppo gave an indifferent shrug. "You wanted to watch me fuck Anna, and you did. It's not my fault if it wasn't how you imagined."

  "You didn't have to make it like that!"

  "I didn't make it like anything. That's what sex is." His voice was heavy with derision. "What the fuck did you expect? Something like one of your pretty pictures?" He snorted. "Wel , it's not like that.

  It's not al set poses in real life. Real people move around. It's al sweaty and noisy and smel y. You should try it sometime." I turned away. Zeppo laughed. "It's no good looking like that, Donald. It's true. Here. Smel ." He pushed himself out of the chair and thrust his fingers under my nose. I jerked my head back and knocked his hand aside, belatedly realising it smelt only of soap and cologne. But I remembered the taint that had been in the air the night before, and with that memory came other, even less welcome images. I quickly thrust them away and turned on him.

  "You disgust me!" Zeppo's grin turned sour, "I disgust you? Christ, that's rich! Who the fuck are you to be disgusted by anyone?" This was exactly the sort of scene I had wanted to avoid. "I can't see any point in continuing with this," I said, but Zeppo was not going to be put off.

  "No, I bet you can't," he jeered. "Mr. Goody-fucking-Two-Shoes Ramsey! You fucking hypocrite. How can you stil act self-righteous after what you've done? Jesus, you make me sick!"

  "The feeling's mutual, I assure you."

  "Bal s! You're not capable of feeling anything!" His voice was thick with contempt. "You're a fucking eunuch, Donald! You should have stuck to col ecting al those nice, hygienic pictures. They're much safer than the real thing. They don't do things you don't want them to. And you can stil tel yourself it's art, can't you?" He sneered at me. "You might fool yourself, Donald, but you don't fool me. You're just another sad, dirty old man who get his kicks looking at pictures of other people doing what he can't. Only you're too much of a coward to admit it." His words no longer touched me. "I don't recal asking for your opinion," I said, calmly.