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Undermind: Nine Stories

Page 17

by Edward M Wolfe


  Afterwards, he didn’t have any kind of epiphany leading to a life change or anything, but he did vow to never hurt his best friend that way again. And he was tempted many times. Tom simply loved women and enjoyed them in all of their glorious variety. He wasn’t very picky and he didn’t only pursue beautiful women the way Lance seemed to do. It was true that he felt a much stronger attraction to physically beautiful women, but he didn’t really pursue any certain type. He took whatever came along, and the stream was steady.

  It was only the women that Lance got involved with that Tom had to be careful about. He could’ve taken every subsequent girlfriend that Lance ever had over the years if he had wanted to. He was sure of it. Tom didn’t know a lot about life or any meaning therein, but he knew one thing – he was made for fucking. It was his only purpose in life. And he was great at it.

  Now he could feel that familiar energy settling over himself and Kim – the one that told him that she was his for the asking. And he was not going to ask.

  Kim finally stopped laughing and drew her face away from Tom’s neck and put her hands on his shoulders as she looked up into his eyes. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. Thank you. I needed that.” She smiled at him and was about to lean forward to kiss him when she realized what she was doing and stopped herself – awkwardly, with her lips a few inches away from his. She shook her head as a chill traveled down her spine, rattling her wavy blonde hair and said, “I’ll be right back,” and headed off toward the restrooms.

  Tom sat back down in his chair and finished his new drink in one long gulp. “God help me,” he said. He felt an uncomfortable sensation in his groin and realized he’d gotten an erection which was now constrained by pointing down his pant leg. He needed to adjust it so it pointed upwards, free of tension. He reached into his pants to make the needed adjustment and the waiter walked in, saw where Tom’s hand was and said, “Excuse me, sir. I can come back” and quickly departed.

  Tom pulled his hand out of his pants feeling much more comfortable, although embarrassed now too. Then he reached his other hand into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and tried calling Lance again. “Hello! You’ve reached Beaumont Security. Please leave your name and number and I promise I’ll get right back to you. Thanks!”

  “Come on, Lance. Where are you?” Tom said to the empty room.

  ***

  Lance was in darkness. Floating. And Devon wasn’t very far away. Now that the game was on, Devon was sticking around, hoping it didn’t end prematurely. Things were off to a beautiful start and it would be really unfortunate if Lance died and Devon had to start over.

  After spending some time disoriented in darkness, Lance became aware of light. It was very bright and inviting and he floated toward it. Then he heard distant beeping and voices somewhere behind him and he paused in his forward motion. He felt like he was inside of a television that was tuned between stations. White noise and snow. Flickering black specks. Incoherent voices and sounds fading in and out.

  He felt that he had a choice to make. He could go forward to the warm, welcome light that was gentle and inviting, or he could go backward toward the sounds. He swirled around so he was facing the opposite direction, although he was not aware of making any movement with his body at all. In fact, it didn’t seem like he even had a body. He felt like he was nothing but awareness, like in a dream where you’re observing what’s happening but don’t seem to be present anywhere the way everyone else is.

  There was a white light in this direction too, but it was cold and harsh and there were shadows moving around in it. The shadows seemed to be in the same place as the voices and the beeping. He moved forward a little and things started to come into a soft focus. The source of the white light was suspended above a man who was surrounded by people wearing surgical scrubs who were focusing intently on him. He could hear what the voices were saying now.

  “BP: ninety over sixty.”

  “…another five milliliters,”

  “Clamp, please - I need this clamped!”

  Loudly, coming from multiple locations: “Dr. Swearinger, you have a call on line two. Dr. Swearinger, line two, please,”

  “He’s crashing! We’ve lost the heartbeat.”

  “I’ve got him, I’ve got him!”

  Lance realized that this was a hospital and these people were apparently trying to save the man’s life, but he had no personal stake in the outcome so it wasn’t very interesting. It didn’t matter to him if they saved the person or not. He didn’t even know why he was here watching them. In fact, wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? He felt like he was, but he didn’t have the slightest idea where he should be.

  He started drifting to the left to see the faces of the other people working on the person whose chest was wide open. There was a doctor doing something to the heart. He looked at the people in scrubs to see if anyone looked familiar to him which might explain why he was here watching them, and as he revolved around the operating table he stopped at the foot of it and looked at the patient’s face.

  It was his face! He was the patient. He found that to be rather startling. What was he doing on the operating table when he was up here, watching? He briefly felt a sense of bi-location and then lost awareness as he suddenly re-entered the body lying on the operating table.

  “BP’s back up. He’s stabilizing.”

  ***

  Devon felt secure enough about Lance’s prognosis to depart now. He reached outward and found who he was looking for and gently slipped inside her. He found himself looking through her eyes into a mirror and saw an extremely pretty blonde woman’s face as she re-applied make-up to her eyes. Once that was done, she reached in her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick. Devon enjoyed the sensation of the slick, angled tip of lipstick running over her lips. He mentally licked his lips and accidently caused Kim to lick hers.

  She squinted at her reflection in the mirror, not knowing why she’d just done that right after she’d applied fresh lipstick. She spat in the sink, dabbed a paper-towel on her lips and started over again. She pressed her lips together, opened her mouth, inserted a clean part of the paper towel between her lips and pressed them together again.

  She dropped the paper towel into a hole in the counter beside the sink and took a step back. She assessed her overall appearance and decided that her hair needed a little fluffing. Then she thought, “My man better be here. I need him to take me home and keep me from being bad. I love you Lance, and I don’t want to be bad. Well, I do, but I don’t. I’m going to be Mrs. Beaumont someday soon.”

  She returned to the table, smiled at Tom, then frowned because Lance wasn’t there. “Oh, my God. He’s still not here??”

  “Nope. Still not answering his cell either.” Tom took the last piece of shrimp from the appetizer plate and replaced it with a napkin so the waiter would take it away on his next visit.

  “Well then, what should we have for dinner? I’m not waiting any longer. I’m hungry.”

  “I was thinking steak.”

  “Smart-ass.” Kim smiled at him and picked up her drink. She looked at Tom over the rim of her glass as she swallowed. Devon sensed her desire for Tom and also felt her trying to suppress it. He started thinking to her: Tom is cute. And he looks strong. Stronger and more cute than Lance. Rougher. Much more rugged. He scanned her memory and easily located her most recent orgasm. It was with Lance of course, but he took just the physical sensation of the memory and played that part back to her and then superimposed the image of Tom’s face in her mind where Lance’s face had been and then amplified the physical sensations she had felt at the time. She closed her eyes for a second and felt waves of pleasure radiating throughout her body.

  “I don’t think he could still be in the shower. He should be answering his phone,” Tom said.

  Kim’s mind, which was reliving an orgasm, thanks to Devon, now adapted itself to what Tom had just said and she could see herself in a shower with Tom. “Mmm, shower,�
�� she mumbled.

  “You think?” Tom asked, not sure he understood what she meant.

  “Oh, yes. I mean, no!” She reluctantly opened her eyes. “No, I don’t think he’s in the shower anymore.”

  “What do you think?

  Screw him, Devon thought in her mind.

  The waiter cautiously re-entered the room, checking to make sure no one was pre-occupied with any of their body parts, and then cleared his throat before approaching the table, just to be safe.

  SCREW HIM. He didn’t even show up at his own birthday dinner and doesn’t have the decency to call or even answer his damned phone? SCREW HIM.

  “Have you folks decided what you’d like?”

  “I’d like to screw him,” Kim said, looking at Tom, and immediately couldn’t believe she’d said that even though the words came out of her own mouth. Tom and the waiter looked at each other. Kim blurted out, “Lance! Screw him. We’re going to eat without him.” Tom and the waiter relaxed now that it was clear that Kim wasn’t expressing her sexual intentions regarding Tom, although the waiter thought Tom could’ve benefited if she had meant it that way.

  They each gave their food order along with requests for new drinks.

  Screw him, Devon said again in Kim’s mind. He summoned up her recall of her last orgasm again and her imagined scene of her and Tom in the shower. Now that she’d expressed anger toward Lance, she started feeling at home with it. The alcohol and sexual desire rounded off the hard edges of the anger so that it became something acceptable and appropriate. It was okay now to be mad at Lance. This mental divider between her and Lance opened up a conduit between her and Tom. It’s okay to desire Tom, she thought. It’s not like I’m going to do anything with him. It’s just fantasy. Now that she’d rationalized her fantasizing, she felt comfortable with it and completely immersed herself in the imagery that was causing a very nice feeling to spread all over her body – starting at her groin and radiating outward to all points.

  “So, do you like to eat out?” Kim asked Tom with a smile, realizing as she said it that Tom could take it as a dining question or a sexual question. She was now in a full-on sexual state of mind and everything became an innuendo to her. Tom lived in this state of mind and always considered the sexual possibilities in every act and word.

  “It depends on who I’m with,” he answered with equal and honest ambiguity.

  “What if you were with me?”

  Tom knew what was happening. He’d seen it countless times before. Kim wasn’t talking about restaurants. This was a barely veiled sexual reference. He told himself to say, “I don’t know how good of a cook you are” to keep the conversation on the safe side and to remain safely out of the dangerous waters he promised not to enter into with regards to anyone Lance was in love with.

  “Absolutely,” he heard himself reply instead.

  “I’d love that,” Kim said, and slowly licked her lips, staring into Tom’s eyes.

  Kim was also aware of what was happening and told herself without much conviction to stop doing it. Devon spoke in her mind. “This is Lance’s fault. He asked for it, and if he loves you, he won’t care anyway. Better to do it with his best friend than some stranger. It’s kinda like sharing. Lance loves both of you. It only natural and fitting for you and Tom to be loving toward each other.”

  When Kim heard this thought in her head, it made perfect sense to her inebriated mind, and all resistance to her desire for Tom started to melt away. Devon was satisfied that Kim needed no further encouragement, but Tom, of all people, was still presenting a challenge.

  Tom looked at Kim, licked his own lips and said, “I bet you would.” Then he took a drink and told himself to just stop it. He was standing on a potential run-away train that was just starting to accelerate and he could hop off right now with no harm done. No promises broken. A nice future with Lance’s new business; and God knows there are plenty of women in the world just waiting for a good time - without any complications the next day, aside from the standard bullshit about how they thought Tom was different and they can’t believe he’s throwing them out; blah, blah, blah.

  But if he didn’t jump off now, this was going to pick up speed and cause a lot of trouble and heartache for people he cared about when it went off the rails. It wasn’t worth it. Why mess things up with Kim and Lance when he could go downstairs to the bar and pick up some dumb broad and get the exact same satisfaction in the end?

  His self-policing train of thought was interrupted by the return of the waiter carrying a large tray above his head which he lowered to a serving table that he deftly unfolded with his other hand and placed beside the table. He took individual plates off of the large tray and placed them in front of Tom and Kim, naming off what each dish was as he set it down. He asked if there was anything else he could get them. Kim said they needed more drinks. The waiter nodded and left.

  But it wouldn’t be the same as it would be with some dumb broad downstairs. Kim’s a goddess. When was the last time you had someone so exquisite? When was the last time you had such utter perfection of the female form from head to toe? Look at her. Alluring eyes, luscious lips, long neck, full breasts, flat belly, thin waist, firm butt, toned legs. She’s tanned to a golden brown. She works out, but not fanatically. She’s firm and soft in all the right places. And she wants YOU. Feel the hunger. Yours and hers.

  “Mmm, this looks delicious. I can’t wait to get it into my mouth.” Kim smiled at Tom as she spoke and began cutting into her filet mignon. Tom thought, she’s past the point of innuendo. No one talks that way about their food. “Oh god!” she said, and then moaned with pleasure while chewing. “This is so good. Have you come here before?”

  “No,” he thought to himself, “But I’m going to come here if you don’t stop.” His erection had returned and once again it was pointing downward and straining against the fabric of his jeans. He scooped some baked potato onto his fork, put it in his mouth and replied while chewing, “Nope.” He looked at his food so as to keep his eyes off of her. Kim felt that she was losing his attention. She took a drink from her glass, then leaned back, raised her arms above her head, pushing out her chest as she yawned and stretched.

  Tom’s eyes went right where Kim wanted them to go. Devon quickly came to Kim’s aid by rapidly scanning Tom’s memory of breasts he’d seen, wanting to find a pair that approximated what Kim’s might look like. He finally found a good match from 12 years ago.

  Oh, the irony! The best he could find for breasts that matched Kim’s were from Lance’s high school sweetheart Lisa, whom Tom had stolen from Lance. Devon had to think quickly about whether or not he wanted to risk complicating matters by possibly invoking the mixed feelings Tom had about his night with Lisa. He decided to go with it. He was already all-in with this project. If Lance didn’t turn, Devon had little hope of staying alive.

  With Tom’s attention still on Kim’s chest, Devon created images in Tom’s mind of Kim lifting her white top up over her head and revealing a pair of breasts that drew Tom’s face to them like a weak comet into a black hole.

  She’s yours. All yours. Naked, hot and wanting you. If Lance cared about her so much, he’d be here right now. But he’s not. You are. And she wants you. And besides, Lance doesn’t ever have to know.

  And with that thought - that he could have Kim and still have Lance as a best friend too - because Lance didn’t have to know, suddenly the world looked brighter to Tom. Now he started closing the deal on his own. It’s just sex. Two people getting together and having physical contact. It’s not even a big deal. Sure, some people cry about it. Lance would cry about it big-time, but Lance will never know, and no harm will be done, and I’ll have added to my experience the hottest chick ever.

  Tom lost his appetite for food. As great as his steak was, he was ready to leave it in exchange for tasting Kim. He resolved in an unexpected flash of honorable thought to give Lance one last chance to redeem himself and change the course of their future history.
/>   “I’m gonna try Lance one more time and if he doesn’t answer – fuck it. I’m outta here.”

  Kim looked down at her plate and cut into her steak, hoping now that Lance didn’t answer the phone with a good excuse for not showing up yet. She liked being mad at him and wanted to punish him by sleeping with Tom. She looked up at Tom like a bad girl feigning innocence and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “It’s up to you.”

  Once again, Tom got Lance’s voicemail. He turned off his phone instead of just ending the call. “I had a great time, Kim. The food was lovely and you were delicious, I mean… well, you know…”

  Kim laughed softly and smiled at Tom. He stood up and she looked at his crotch without trying to hide it. She was pleasantly surprised by the bulge that looked like it was straining to break free. “Maybe I am delicious,” she said, looking from his eyes to his crotch then back to his eyes again. She stood up, then looked forlornly at her plate and said, “I need one more bite.” She leaned over, giving Tom the best view he’d had of her breasts all night and stabbed a single green bean with her fork and put it in her mouth, staying bent over the table while she chewed.

  She looked up at Tom and said, “Do you want some?”

  “Let’s go,” he said. He was done with flirting and innuendo.

  On their way out, Kim said she’d pay for dinner. Tom said he’d get his car. He was waiting in front of the entrance in his black and red Challenger when she came out. She got in the passenger side, reclined the seat all the way back, looked at Tom and smiled.

  “Take me, Tom Collins!” she said and laughed as the engine purred like the king of the concrete jungle and the car surged forward, taking them out of the parking lot and away to Tom’s house.

  ***

  Lance began to wake as he heard the sound of beeping that he thought was coming from an alarm clock. Not his alarm clock, but someone else’s inefficient alarm clock. It was too quiet – distant sounding. It was more annoying than it was effective with its monotonous, steady beeping. He could feel the heavy cloth of sleep and dreams still pressing on his mind, but he couldn’t remember anything of what he had dreamt. He could also sense the nearness of the real world but he lacked the energy to reach it or fully participate in it by opening his eyes and letting his perception be dominated solely by its input.

 

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