Shari sat beside him and held his hand. He put his coffee down and waited for Juanita to speak.
“Can I tell you about this star blanket?”
Lance nodded and he felt Shari’s feet wiggle under his leg. He couldn’t resist: he took his free hand and wrapped his fingers around the curve of her ankle.
Juanita looked at the star blanket and ran her fingers along the fabric of her seat. “When I was about 14, I used to play spin the bottle with my friends and a couple of kids from the rez at an older girl’s house. It was fun. If you spun on a girl, you kissed a girl. If you spun on a boy, you kissed him. ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’ was the grand finale. It all led up to that. That was four people the bottle chose that had to go into this huge closet and make out for seven minutes.”
“Four people?” Shari asked. “Wow.”
“Sounds like fun,” Lance said.
“It was. I often think back to that time. I couldn’t wait for Fridays to roll around.”
“Why Fridays?” Shari asked.
“Bingo. I guess some would call us ‘Bingo orphans’ but we took care of each other.”
Lance had a flashback of a younger Juanita kissing other girls. Finding the faces of boys in the dark. Tongues and breath. Breasts cupped through shirts and under. The first time you felt the warmth of someone’s tummy. Fingers finding their way to heat and wetness. The discovery of fur and how someone tastes.
“So we had fun, but our host, Lisa, for whatever reason, never got chosen by the bottle for anything. It would literally pass her by every single time. It became a bad joke and she’d always be outside the closet for our make-out sessions, so one day we went to her home and she had a star blanket like this but bigger waiting in the back yard. We all asked, ‘Hey, what’s this? Are we playing outside tonight?’
“Lisa had a different plan, a new plan. She said, ‘Let’s try something new. Rather than all of us waiting to be chosen, why don’t we throw this blanket up in the air and we all run under and we make out for a whole hour?’”
Juanita ran her fingers through her long, thick hair and smiled. “We all looked at each other and realized what she was proposing: a full-on semi-clothed orgy for one whole hour. She’d cleared all the rocks so it was the softest grass and she had the tallest fence so no one would see us. It was just us. Our circle. I think there were just as many boys as there were girls and all of a sudden we got quiet. None of us could believe what was about to happen. The next thing I knew, we all held the corners of the star blanket and threw it up in the air before hitting the ground and making out. I remember she even set her dad’s alarm clock. She had two extension cords hooked up and everything. She played the Eurythmics on a ghetto blaster. Touch was the album. I get goosebumps every time I listen to it. We all had to swear we’d never tell anyone what was happening and we did that all summer. Every Friday. It was hot. Making out with two or three people at once. Being held. Touched. Groped. We had this biter. Amanda. Her bites got harder as she lost herself. It was hysteria and hunting all at once. That summer saved me. It got me through a lot. I told that story to my angel on Cancer Connections and she mailed me this blanket.”
Lance reached for his glass of water and realized he’d been holding his breath at this story. It was magic. He saw that the book on top of Juanita’s pile was The Breast Health Book, her Bible as she called it. He could see pressed flowers of all kinds used as bookmarks.
“Wow,” Shari said. “You did that all summer?”
“We did,” Juanita said and sipped her tea.
“I would have loved that,” Shari said and touched Lance’s face. “I know someone else here who would have loved it, too.” She wiggled her toes under his leg.
Lance blushed and looked down. He could feel a new spirit in the room: one that welcomed questions. “So where did Duane go?”
Juanita took a big breath and looked down. “Oh, he’s fucking one of his Iowaska sisters.”
“What?” Lance and Shari asked together.
Juanita nodded. “I should have known. We had sex once every two days for years and it just tapered off. His phone went off in the middle of the night a few weeks ago, and it was like he was on fire to get out of the room and turn it off.”
“How long has this been happening?” Lance asked.
“Long enough, I guess,” Juanita sighed. “I guess old Enaud didn’t want a breastless woman around so he traded me in for a new and younger model.”
“Enaud?” Lance asked.
“I read one of the e-mails his Iowaska sister wrote. Apparently, Duane had a vision in one of their ceremonies where he saw his name backwards and now he only answers to Enaud in their little group.”
Lance felt his cheeks burn. “How sad.”
“I’m so sorry,” Shari said.
“It’s not your fault,” Juanita said. “You’ve had a tough spring.”
Lance looked to Shari and it was true. Juanita had been there through it all. Where had Duane been? Well, Lance thought. Wasn’t it obvious?
Shit! Lance felt suddenly furious with Duane. Why the hell didn’t he tell him he and Juanita were in trouble? The last time they’d been together was at the Commodore Ballroom to see a show, but, even then, there hadn’t been a lot of conversation. Just the standard, “Here we go” when the band took the stage and, after, a brief hug goodbye as they were parked in different spots downtown. They walked away quickly as they both had to work early the next morning.
Lance let out a sigh. When he thought about it, the last few times he and Duane had gone for coffee, Duane had spent a lot of time checking his e-mails and texting, and there was a distance between them. When Lance thought about it, Duane had never been fully present after the miscarriage. He’d stopped by with Juanita and visited for a bit, but when was the last time they’d had a heart-to-heart—months?
“The good news,” Juanita said, “is my portraits are in.”
“They are?” Shari asked. “Can I see?”
“Portraits?” Lance asked. “Oh—portraits!” He remembered.
“I’d love to see them,” Shari said.
Juanita winked at them both. “I’ve hung the portraits up in our… my room.”
The day Juanita returned to find Duane gone, she’d gone off to a photographer on Oak and 16th who did the most gorgeous portraits of women and their breasts. Juanita wanted photos of herself topless and beautiful. Lance wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask to see them. He deeply wanted to. He adored Juanita as a friend and woman, but he was also so scared for her.
What if she was gone in a few months?
Juanita and Shari were both slender with powerful bodies. Summer had darkened both of them, though Shari had more freckles. For cup size, they were pretty well matched, Lance thought and Shari’s breasts were beautiful: not too big, not too small. Shari’s Chipewyan nipples would be darker, but…
Lance sat up as he felt himself getting aroused knowing that he may get a privileged revenge-viewing now that all bets were off with old Enaud.
“I’d love to see these,” Shari said. “I’m sure Lance would, too.” She gave Lance a wink.
Lance blushed and looked down.
“Well,” Juanita smiled. “Perhaps you’ll both get to, but I have a question first.”
“It’s your night,” Shari said. “Ask away.”
“Lance,” Juanita said. “You told us a story once. I want you to tell it to me again.”
“Story?” Lance frowned. “Which one?”
“The one about you in college. Your roommate.”
“You know,” his wife said. “The sleepwalker.”
“Oh,” Lance blushed. “The sleepwalker.”
“Yes,” Juanita said. “I don’t think you ever told us the whole story. I want to hear it again.”
Shari levelled her eyes at him. “Yes, that is one of th
e most curious stories you’ve ever told. I would like to hear it, too.”
Lance reached for his water. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“Oh come on,” Shari said. “This was way before you knew me. You have diplomatic immunity.”
“We’re under the Star Blanket of Trust,” Juanita added. “Consider this a dare from a dear friend. And it’s a full moon out. I want you to tell the story, the whole story and don’t leave anything out.”
Lance felt himself gulp for air. This was a dangerous story because it was scandalous with its perceived innocence. He looked at his wife. “Okay, but if I tell it, nobody can get mad at me. This was when I was, like, 21. I was totally single and innocent.”
“Oh yes,” Shari nudged him playfully. “Mister Innocent. Plus, it’s a dare.”
Juanita giggled and Lance knew he had to tell the story.
He took a big breath and ran his palms back and forth over his legs to get going. “Okay, so there was this one summer where I was in college. All of the guy roommates went home for the summer, and I decided to stay and work for minimum wage and enjoy the city. But we had this one foreign student who moved in to help pay rent.”
“Did she have nice feet?” Shari teased.
“Baby,” Lance said and looked down.
“Oh come on, Lance,” Juanita said. “Everyone knows you love feet.”
Lance blushed again, this time deeper in his cheeks, hotter.
“Baby,” Shari said softly and pushed her left foot into his hand. He held it and felt himself getting so turned on. He nodded.
“She was beautiful, but I was totally not in her league in any way. I couldn’t even speak to her.”
“You? The charmer?”
He shook his head. He loved how the two women he loved dearly were waiting to hear this story—all of it—this confession of confessions. Would he tell it all? It was a dare and he did have diplomatic immunity. He took a big breath. “I think it was the second night. Vancouver was in a heat wave. The second night she’d moved in she came into my room and started wrestling me with her bra and panties on. It wasn’t a fight. It was this struggle. I slept naked so I had no idea what was going on. She started riding me and struggling but her eyes were closed. God, she was strong. She’d hold me down and ride me through her panties, and I’d have to keep her from grabbing and pulling my hair. It was crazy.”
Both Juanita and Shari started laughing.
“Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. She just stood up and left. She literally just stood up when I got hard and she went into her room. The next morning she acted as though nothing happened. It happened on the third night. I think at around two in the morning. She’d go out dancing with her friends and come home to me and this whole riding ritual would start.”
“Wait,” Shari said. “Were you inside her through her panties?”
Lance frowned. “Maybe. All I know is it gave me a backwards boner.”
The ladies burst out laughing. Lance shook his head and kept going. “It just seemed as soon as I got hard she’d leave. The whole point was to wrestle me and rub against me just enough and then she’d leave.”
“Wow,” Juanita said.
“I’m starting to hear some new information here,” Shari said. “Keep going.”
“Uh oh,” Lance said. “Am I in trouble?”
“Baby,” Shari said. “It’s a full moon. You didn’t even know me then. Full diplomatic immunity, remember?”
He and Shari laughed as this was an old joke between them.
“Hurry,” Juanita said. “Get to the juicy.”
Lance ran his fingers through his hair and took a quick sip of water. “Okay. Okay. I think it was around day four of this when I finally said, ‘Can we talk about what happens at night?’ To which she acted totally shocked. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘Am I sleepwalking?’ ‘Sleep Wrestling more like it!’ I said, and she started to cry. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘When I drink or when I get stressed, I sleepwalk or sleep wrestle.’ It happens during exam time. One time I woke up in a tent I’d assembled in the next door neighbour’s yard. Apparently, I can read directions in my sleep. The only problem is it doesn’t matter if I’m clothed or not. Was I naked?’”
“‘No,’ I said. ‘You’re in your bra and panties.’ ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I can move out. I’ll find a new place.’ ‘No,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to. It’s just that you pull my hair and press down on me so hard I get headaches after.’ ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘I’m so ashamed.’ And she hugged me. ‘My parents are so worried I’ll walk out into the city naked and end up Lord knows where.’”
“Holy shit I love this story,” Juanita cheered. “So, dear Lance, whatever did you do?”
Lance smiled. “Well, I couldn’t turn her out into the cold cruel world, could I?”
“No you could not,” Shari beamed. “Dear husband, please carry on.”
“Well,” Lance smiled. “I was there for her during that summer. She was under a lot of stress and came into my room each night to wrestle me. Could I help it if I slept naked? Could I help it if sometimes she was naked? I had to protect her.”
Lance felt his erection build. He wiggled and was aware both women caught that. He cleared his throat. “It was a great summer for both of us.”
“But how did you know it was consensual?” Shari asked.
“Well,” Lance said. And the truth was he honestly could not remember what he’d shared before, so he decided to go for it and share it all. “At first, she’d press into me and get me hard and leave. But, after her confession, she’d come in without any undies on, already wet. It was like the air could taste her.”
He stopped. Where did that line come from?
“Wow,” Juanita said. “Go on.”
“Well, I’d always be under her and she had this hair pulling thing she did that I hated but, soon, she’d rub against me and cum from brushing. It was riding without penetration and she’d lay off the hair pulling if I sucked on her tits or licked her nipples, but she’d stop as soon as she came and she’d leave.”
“Did you ever get to cum?” Juanita asked, genuinely concerned.
“No,” Lance said and felt his voice lighten with arousal. “I never did.”
“Oh, poor Lancey,” Shari said and squeezed his thigh. “Talk about a cruel summer.”
He shrugged and remembered her body. She had pink nipples. Tiny ones that swelled to twice their size. He loved to push her breasts together when she was on top and lick them back and forth as if they were one. “I learned to take care of myself, shall we say.” Both women giggled. “And I lived for the night. Man, she was strong.” He didn’t need to close his eyes to remember what a gorgeous body she had. Alicia was her name. From Italy? Yes, he was sure it was Italy. Or maybe Sicily. Wait. Maybe it was Madrid. She’d trimmed her muff so she could wear sundresses but her lips were bare. He remembered the very tip of her was soaked with her own juices and there was a night where she actually climbed on his face and ground herself into his nose and mouth until she climaxed before climbing off and going to bed. He remembered walking like a blind man to the bathroom to wash her off of his face and being shocked there was so much of her. He loved it.
“So you two never did it?” Juanita asked.
“No,” Lance shrugged. “I don’t think it was about that. I don’t think either of us were ready for sex. This was a way around it.”
“So how did you two leave each other?”
Lance thought about it. “She got into another program and her time was up. I drove her to the airport and she gave me a long hug. When I returned home, she’d left me a gift. A pair of her see-through panties under my pillow. The ones she used on several night visits. The ones she came in fastest.”
“Wow!” Juanita said and started clapping.
“So what did you do
with the panties?” Shari asked, and her voice was the inquisitive voice, the one that wanted the absolute truth, the one that would know the exact second he fibbed.
Lance decided to push it. “I… shall we say…I relaxed in a gentlemanly way… for months with them.”
“Around your cock?” Juanita asked.
Both Shari and Lance looked at Juanita and started laughing out of shock.
“Juanita,” Shari said. “You’ve never said that word before.”
“Well, that story gets me so horny just thinking about it. How could I not?”
Shari looked at Lance with surprise. Wow, she mouthed.
Lance felt bewildered. “Um, so the question is?”
“My question is, Lance, did you beat off with it around your cock or did you beat off sniffing it?”
“Both,” Lance said and felt something leave his body.
Shari looked at both of them. “Whoah.”
They were all quiet.
“Wow,” Shari said again, to the story or to this new spirit in the room: Juanita’s arousal and power.
“You know,” Juanita said, sipping her tea. “You two saved our sex life.”
“What?” Shari asked. “How?”
Juanita sat up. “If this is my night, I want to tell you both. I’ve always had problems cumming. I take forever sometimes.”
Shari and Lance nodded.
“But when old Enaud and I would have sex, I had this image of you two—all these years—this one image that would push me over. That’s what I’d call it. I’d build and build and you two would help me.”
“What was it?” Shari asked and reached for Lance’s hand. He took it and squeezed gently.
“Well,” Juanita said. “If this is my night and I have diplomatic immunity I’ll tell you, but I need wine first.”
“Is this wise?” Shari asked.
Night Moves Page 14