Honest Masks

by Barbra Novac

  Flushed, embarrassed, thrilled, and excited, Chloe said, “Yes, of course.”

  James reached for a napkin on the table and grabbed a pen out of his shirt pocket.

  “Number, please,” he said matter-of-factly, without looking up at her.

  “How about you give me yours and --”

  He cut her off. “No way! I don’t want to risk any chance of you going home and having second thoughts. This way I know I can follow up and you can’t get away.” He looked up at her and smiled his disarming smile.

  Chloe rattled off her number, heart racing, defences pulverised.

  Standing, Chloe picked up the books and moved away from the table. At the front door to the cafe, she turned and saw James looking at her, the pirate’s ferocity in his eyes again. He really looked like he intended to ravish her. She smiled and waved, blushed again, and burst out into the afternoon air.

  Out of the coffeehouse, Chloe turned in the direction of her apartment. Her mind a whirl, it seemed very important to get home in order to digest the events of the afternoon in peace and quiet. How to handle both of these men was a mystery, but she knew that she wanted to play that game for a little while. She only had a date with James. Honesty with Max right from the start was the best policy. He’d said regularly that she ought to find herself a flesh-and-blood man, as if he didn’t mind sharing. This would give her an opportunity to explore that little fantasy she’d tucked away. Suddenly, she bumped into someone. She halted and looked up to make her apologies.

  “Gary!” she exclaimed.

  “Who were you having coffee with?”

  “Have you been following me?” Chloe’s heart rate rose, and another flush came to her cheeks. Her hands started to shake as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

  “I want to know who you were having coffee with!”

  Thinking fast, Chloe looked around to see the street full of people, some of whom were glancing in her direction. She leaned in a little closer to Gary.

  “If you don’t stop following me, I will call the police and get a restraining order on you. You get out of my way right now, or I will scream in these crowds that you are attacking me.”

  Gary stepped to the side, and Chloe pushed past him, dropping her books on the ground as she did. She turned in time to see him picking up the books. The Anaïs Nin book had fallen open, and the front page said, With all my love, Max.@

  Frozen to the spot, Gary didn’t move as Chloe snatched the books out of his hands, turned, and ran.

  Chapter Twelve

  Max lay in his bed thinking about Chloe. All those years he’d announced that sex was about the person and not about the body at his dinner parties and orgies had come home to him now. He knew, deep in himself, that he could love both James and Chloe. Somehow, the three of them could join as one.

  Despite some difficulty in grasping the concept earlier, Max felt he understood where James wanted to go now. James recognised what they needed. More intuitive than Max, he’d known they needed something before it arrived. He knew about the three of them before they’d found Chloe. James had faith she’d be out there, and his belief in himself never faltered.

  He heard the bathroom light click off and saw James’s beautiful body walk toward the bed in the moonlight. As always when he came to bed with Max, his penis was semierect, as if the very thought of getting into bed excited him. Max loved him for that and a thousand other things that made James so different from anyone else.

  “What are you thinking about, lover?” James asked as he climbed into bed next to Max. Max sat up against the headboard, but the thin sheet couldn’t hide the bulge of his fully erect shaft. James had his eyes glued to it as he tucked himself in.

  “I was thinking about what we will do to Chloe when she accepts both of us, and how it will be with her in the bed with us.”

  James laughed. “Crowded.”

  “Yeah. We’ll need a bigger bed.”

  Smiling, James moved his way over toward Max with a seductive shuffle. He leaned in to whisper in Max’s ear as he placed his hand on Max’s cock. “Will she help make this bigger?”

  “Mmmm…” Max closed his eyes and let James work his dick up and down. James massaged it with his strokes, the outside skin floating up and down over the hot, hard shaft inside. Max’s balls started to churn, and he opened his eyes to look at his lover.

  James leaned in and kissed Max. Their mouths collided in firm, intense kisses. Max felt James’s tongue teasing his, darting in and out of his mouth; then it worked its way back in gently, seductively, swirling around and pulling out slowly again as if to tease.

  Max slunk down lower into the bed, pulling the cool sheet off his hot erection. James rolled over to climb on top of him. They kissed with more intensity and passion now, the heat swelling and rising in both of them. Max ran his hands around James’s shoulder, feeling the muscle contract and move under his skin. He slithered his hands softly down until he reached the firm round of James’s ass. Pulling James to him, Max felt his rock-hard erection pressing in against his own swelling cock.

  Max felt James respond, pressing into his hot dick with his own, letting the lust take him over. Sexual energy surged through Max as he wrapped his legs around his partner to get their wrestling cocks closer still.

  James moved his lips to Max’s ear. “Will you fuck me while my dick is buried in Chloe?”

  Max groaned and grabbed James by his hair. Pulling his face back, he thrust his own forceful, commanding kisses deep into his mouth. The thought of watching James and Chloe together filled Max’s mind: kissing, fucking, and being fucked.

  James lifted his face away for a moment as he leaned over to the nightstand. He pulled out some lube and, flicking the lid, moved it directly to the crevice between his own butt cheeks. He stared directly at Max as he said, “Oh yeah. Rub that into me, baby.”

  He tossed the tube aside and leaned back into Max’s waiting kiss. Max worked his fingers around James again until he found his ass, a large mass of lube oiling its way down into James’s hole. James moved forward to give Max better access and groaned as he felt his lover’s fingers working his ass, spreading the tight, willing hole wider and wider.

  James crawled forward, his knees bracing himself on either side of Max, until he was clinging to the back of the headboard. Max took James’s cock in his mouth, and James bucked gently as Max swirled his tongue against the sensitive part of his dick, just under the head. As Max serviced James, sucking hard on his rod, he worked more and more of his fingers into James’s hole. They developed a smooth rhythm, James rocking slightly, giving Max plenty of cock in his mouth and plenty of open ass to finger.

  Max’s cock felt like it was going to explode. In the future when they wanted to do this, Chloe would be nestled between his legs, sucking his dick. Thoughts of taking Chloe and James together were too much, and Max knew he’d let himself get close. James was ready for him, and Max had to have him now.

  Max lifted James off him by pushing on his hips.

  “Get on your knees,” he said.

  James slithered down the headboard, bringing his hips high as he did so. Max sat back on his haunches. He always liked to take a good look at James when he was like this. His body was so beautiful; the hard matched the soft, his skin like Thai silk. His tan lines where his swimming trunks sat looked like a pale pink pair of jocks against the deep dark of sun-scorched skin. Breathing deeply, Max ran his hands over those pink butt cheeks, reaching through to have a tug on the restless balls and that rock-hard cock.

  Max edged forward, his achingly hard cock nestled at James’s entrance. Thanks to many years of experience between them, his partner was well prepared; there was no tension. Waiting for James’s signal, Max eased his cockhead into the gently relaxed muscle. Soon James pressed back, taking Max’s entire dick into him and letting his lover know he was ready at the same time. With a moan, Max placed his hands on James’s hips, watching his cock disappear into his striking body.


  The feel of that silk softness against his dick was all that Max needed. The visions of Chloe and James had so aroused him that the tidal swell began to rise, and Max knew he couldn’t last too long.

  He took slow strokes at first, enjoying the feel of the tight tunnel. Max twisted himself a little until he knew he was in position to massage James’s prostate.

  “Oh, fuck…” James whispered, and Max knew he’d found it.

  He rubbed his cock back and forth, easing it against the prostate, loving the feel of the sheath tight against his dick. James groaned, and Max knew he’d come soon as well. He leaned forward, skin against skin, and took James’s engorged dick in his hand. He fisted it gently as he managed to keep up his own thrusts.

  He could feel his testicles contracting. He would come in his lover in a second; the buildup had formed over the hours of computer flirting with Chloe, then this small seduction by James. His orgasm gathered inside of him, ready to send him spiralling into bliss. He felt James’s cock jerk in his hand and the heat of the liquid spill over his skin. This set him off, and his dick exploded and lurched in James until spent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chloe clinked glassed with him and said, “Here’s to us!”

  James launched a wide, fiery grin. “To us!” he agreed enthusiastically. They both took a sip of their wine.

  Chloe looked around the red-tinted room of the gallery bar at the Arthouse Hotel. “I still can’t believe you got me here. Isn’t this the cheesiest bar in town?”

  James, without taking his eyes off her for a second, leaned in closer and said, “It’s only cheesy if you are being picked up, and you, my dear, are already picked up.”

  Chloe smiled at him, thinking again that he looked like he would literally pick her up, sling her over his shoulder, and carry her onto a large boat where she’d be trapped for months.

  Chloe wore her red silk Chinese dress especially for this occasion. James told her he wanted to do something memorable for their first date and, despite Chloe’s protests that she’d promised only one, told her it had to be the Arthouse Hotel. When she said she’d never been there because it was the worst pick-up place in the world, she felt him smile through the phone as he said, “Come anyway.”

  Obviously recently refurbished, the famous local haunt had gained elegance above what Chloe had heard. Full of yuppies and the city folk there for an after-hours thrill, it still held some of the old-world charm that earned it a heritage listing.

  James smiled at her wide-eyed admiration. “I have a surprise for you later, but come now and have something to eat and a glass of wine.”

  They flicked through the menu, glanced over the top of it to make eyes at each other, and then fell back into the menu again. James cut a fine figure, dressed in all black. Chloe had noticed at least a dozen women glance at him as they worked their way through the bar, his tanned skin contrasting with the black in his hair and his heavily muscled chest rippling through his tight T-shirt. Chloe was aware of her own beauty, her red dress clinging to every curve, from her potbelly to the full-sized curl of her backside. The dress buttoned up on a slant away from the high-necked collar, giving her small breasts a kind of prominence that made them obvious.

  Chloe couldn’t imagine what James had in store for them after dinner.

  James ordered them pork-and-prawn dumplings, chili salt-and-pepper squid, and then a chorizo, tomato, and arugula pizza. He also organised a full bottle of the wonderful red wine they drank.

  “Now that I have all to myself the beautiful Chloe, and this is our first date” -- he held his hand up to silence her protest -- “I want to ask you how you feel about possibly seeing more of me. I had a fantastic time with you over the coffee the other day.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to ask me this sort of thing at the end of a very successful first date, not the beginning?” Chloe flirted and smiled, but a small piece of fear oiled its way into her belly. She ignored it, sure she had misunderstood him, and let herself continue to have a lot of fun. “Well, I guess what I am trying to do is get your attention so that I can see you again. I want you to think of this date as something we might do regularly. I’d like to fill your dance card for the next few dances, if that’s okay with you.”

  Chloe thought of Max and felt a little nervous. Giving up the wild, free life she’d built at home for a lovely, exciting, but obviously real-world relationship held very little promise. James, regardless of fun and undeniable beauty, would never provide her with what she got from her costuming. And settling down with one man could only mean having to give all of that up.

  The memory of her mother loomed, reminding her of that fear. Art caused depression her mother could only escape in one dreadful way. Could artistic intensity send Chloe down the same path? Chloe knew the same blood rushed in her veins, and it had the potential to drive her down the same path. And what if James were to leave her? Could she just go back to the art again?

  “It’s a tough one for me to answer. I feel like that puts a lot of pressure on the situation.”

  “Chloe, just think about it. I guess I know that it is ridiculous to push you now, and in a way it was a stupid thing to tell you. I wanted you to know this is a serious night out for me, and that I wasn’t interested in making it one of those dates that you just have and then nothing ever happens again.”

  Chloe suddenly felt strange. She seemed to be bringing out the most intense feelings in men now.

  “On a lighter note, here is our food,” James said, obviously pleased to break the sourness of the mood. “You don’t have to do anything to this food but eat it.”

  Chloe felt very brave. She looked at James with his dashing pirate eyes and his easy, good nature. Thinking of Max, Chloe decided perhaps she could take a risk with this man. If he wanted to spend more time with her, well, she’d tell him some things to see just how deep that commitment ran.

  “I want to tell you something. I hope you understand; this is the not the kind of thing I disclose easily. In fact, I haven’t ever revealed it to someone before face-to-face. But your frank seriousness gave me some courage, and I feel I should confess some things to you. Ha ha, you may not want to complete this date, let alone consider a second.”

  “I’ll take that chance. What do you want to tell me?”

  He certainly looked eager. He focussed on her entirely, completely engrossed in what she may have to say. Chloe again got the feeling that there was more going on behind the eyes of this man than she realised.

  She smiled and started to eat her food, a signal to tell him he could do the same. Chloe sensed a nervous excitement in James that she couldn’t account for. Sure, it was a fantastic first date, no denying it, but he seemed too excited. Resisting the desire to immerse into dreams and fantasy, Chloe firmly told herself that she would get to the bottom of it eventually.

  Anyway, she thought as she tucked into a delicious fried dumpling, he might not want to follow where she led once she told him about her home and her past.

  Over dinner, Chloe told James about her house and about her costumes. He seemed very interested. He asked very good questions, clearly revealing some knowledge of fabric and design. Chloe didn’t have time to tell him the truth about her mother, so engrossed had they become in the conversation about her art.

  This was different from the talk she’d had with Max. Max challenged her at the philosophical level. James challenged her at the creative level. He wanted to know if she’d tried a surrealist free form with her designs, working from the unconscious rather than the conscious, controlled state. Chloe, wide-eyed, said she’d never even thought of it before, but she supposed she had the talent required for that sort of thing. James told her wonderful stories of great designers who had immersed themselves in the rules, then applied multiple techniques to free themselves from the conscious state, to dip into what James liked to think of as the dream, or subconscious aspect, of one’s self.

  Chloe completely forgot to be afraid of James and rel
ished in the conversation. It was as exciting as the conversations with Max, maybe even a little more so because they were in the beautiful Arthouse Hotel and drinking wine. Chloe felt the surge within her that she put down to a creative high brought on by time with another artist. For the first time, she understood the longing in her mother.

  Suddenly James looked at his watch and jumped up. “Chloe, this conversation is so wonderful, I almost forgot my surprise. It only takes an hour. Come with me.”

  Chloe took his hand as naturally as if they’d been lovers for years, still thrilling to the feel of his skin on her skin. He tugged playfully on her arm and dragged her toward the staircase in the lower corner. They walked up the twisted spiral stairs, a throng of people crowding around them. At the top, James handed two tickets to a woman who looked like a saloon moll.

  Chloe stared at her, amazed. The woman took the tickets from James and smiled at Chloe. Then she handed them each a sketch pad and charcoal pencil and said, “Your table is toward the back. It has your name on the reserved sign.”

  Not fully understanding what was going on, Chloe clutched her pencil and notepad and followed behind James, trying for a moment to look about the room.

  This room had the same dark, scorpion-like corners as the rest of the hotel, but the room had been divided up with a small black runway down the middle. A mix of men and women quickly filled up the chairs. Chloe did notice there was a prevalence of men in the room. James led her to a small table toward the back, promising her she’d miss none of the action from this section. He ordered them another bottle of red wine, then turned to Chloe and said, “This is a little gift for your inspiration, darling. I hope you enjoy.”