And Dave had just lost his last piece of clothing. He sat cross-legged with his briefs in his lap.
“Well, bro, this was fun. I haven’t seen you in the buff since that time I came home early and you were screwing Emily in the living room.” Frankie grinned. “Pick your partner.” He chuckled. “Guess we all know whom.”
Dave rose and dropped his jock. He had no shame in his body. He kept it trim. As for showing Marcie and Frank his naked penis—hell, he was sure it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. He reached down and helped Shari get to her feet.
“We’ll see you guys in the morning. Have a good night.”
Two pairs of eyes silently followed the smooth play of the muscles in Dave’s butt as he and Shari left the living room.
“Damn, he’s got one fine ass.” Marcie sighed with greedy hunger. “I could just eat him up. Lucky Shari.”
“Yeah,” Frank breathed. “Lucky.”
“Let’s go to bed.” Marcie turned and sashayed toward the second bedroom. She stopped, looked back, and placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you coming?” She cupped her breasts, squeezed the nipples and winked. “Or are you not excited yet?”
Despite his feelings, Frank smiled. “Getting there, babe, getting there.”
* * * *
Dave stalked over to Shari and grabbed her by the waist. “Well, that was fun.” He chuckled. “Marcie is really stacked.”
Shari pushed him away and turned her back on him, giving him a close-up view of her heart-shaped ass. “Why don’t you go and join them in a three-way?”
He took a step forward, cupped her behind with one hand and squeezed. “Babe, you’re more than enough for me.” He thrust his cock against the seam between her cheeks, seeking entry. “Christ, you drive me crazy.” He reached around and fondled her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples. “I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned and nipped her neck, his breath hot on her skin. “I want to devour you.”
Shari shuddered as lust coursed through her. She needed to push Dave over the edge. “Take me to bed. Now.”
He bent, lifted her in his arms and carried her to the old-fashioned four-poster, dropping her onto the mattress, and looked down at her. “Babe, I’m going to fuck you so hard, your screaming will bring down an avalanche.”
“Promise?”
“Bet your ass.”
Dave kneeled on the bed and unsnapped Shari’s bra, tossing it to the floor. Her nipples were hard and pointy and so very rosy. He smiled. She was as tasty as the sweet jam-filled doughnuts his grandmother used to make for Hanukah. He chuckled.
“What’s so funny, babe?”
“I guess talking about my grandparents made me think of them. They were incredible. They went through a lot before coming to America. Man, could my grandmother cook! She used to make these really sticky, raspberry-filled doughnuts for the holiday.” He grinned. “Seeing you lying there…well, you reminded me of those doughnuts.” He pounced on her. “Filled with sticky sweetness.”
“Then you better get your mouth going if you want a taste of my…sticky sweetness.”
The flimsy pink thong hardly covered her pussy. He paused and admired the tiny pink bows at each hip and a smile flickered across his face.
“Good thing you brought tear-away panties, babe. How should I untie them? With my fingers or my mouth?”
Shari laughed.
“I don’t think even your mouth is that talented. Use your fingers—and hurry!”
He fumbled at the bows, his fingers clumsy in their haste to unwrap her. “Fuck it!”
And he ripped off the material, burying his face between her thighs. He gripped her hips, raising her up, and inhaled her arousing fragrance. His tongue darted out, delving deep between the plump lips of her sex.
She groaned and arched against him letting him know how much she loved what he did to her.
“Bite me, please, please, baby, please. Hard. Hurt me.”
She gripped his hair, tangling her fingers in his thick waves, pulling at the strands.
He nipped her thigh, answering her demands, then sucked at her mound before biting down hard enough to leave the imprint of his teeth on her clit.
Lately their screwing had become more and more rough. He thought perhaps Shari sensed that he needed the harsh release after a day of dealing with murderers and human garbage.
She never told him to ease up or demurred when he held her so tightly he left marks on her pale skin. She urged him on, like now.
“Oh, God, you’re so good. Fuck me, darling. Do it now.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. The moonlight streaming into the room revealed the sweat on her body, her distended nipples, her flushed face, and her undulating body. Her shuttered eyes shielded her thoughts from him, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize how much she was turned on.
He rose to his knees, lifted her, and, inch by inch, worked his thick length into her. When he was seated to the hilt, he moved, slowly at first then harder and faster until the bed shook and her moans grew almost loud enough to drown out the creaking of the old iron bed frame.
Her scream when she came threw him over the edge and he poured his release into her, collapsing on her slick body, before rolling off and drawing her into his arms.
“Did you taste the sweetness?” she managed to gasp out.
“Oh, yeah. Better than Gran’s doughnuts any day.”
“And lots less fattening.”
* * * *
“Marcie, I guess I’d better tell you, I’ve just gotten out of a relationship, and I don’t think I’m ready for—”
“A woman?” Marcie chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed, perfectly at ease with her breasts still uncovered. “Hon, you don’t have to make believe with me.”
Frank pulled off the layers of clothes and tossed them on the scarred dresser that was missing a drawer, trying to delay his response. Finally down to only his boxers, he heaved a sigh and turned back to her.
“How’d you guess? What did I do?” He paused. “Dave doesn’t know.”
Marcie patted the mattress. “Slide over here, big boy.”
Frank crumbled next to her, his head in his hands.
“Confession time, Frankie. My last two lovers were bi. When I make love, I like a party. And though I’d love to party with you, if you’re not up to it—gotta stop watching LOGO TV—I won’t push you.” She gave him a teasing little poke. “Besides, I saw the way you were mooning after him while we drove up here. Sweetie, if he had eyes in the back of his head, you’d be out.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “But it’s up to you. I won’t say anything.”
Suddenly, they heard a steady thumping from the wall behind them. Marcie looked at Frank with sympathy.
“To anyone.”
* * * *
Dave rolled over onto his back, his heart racing. “Lord, Shari, you’re gonna kill me, girl.”
She shifted over him, her breasts crushed against him. She swirled her fingers in his chest hair and licked the sweat from his neck. She swung her leg over his lean hips and rubbed against his semierect cock, moaning as it hardened.
“Oh, God, that felt so good.”
He shifted and she undulated beneath him. He drew her hands up, twining his fingers with hers, gripping the headboard. She bit her lower lip, then licked it, bucking against him. He pressed down, using his greater weight to keep her still.
“I wanted to talk, Shari, but there isn’t any way I can when I’m with you. I can hardly catch my breath.” He paused and shut his eyes. “And when I feel your body move beneath me—fuck, who wants to talk.”
He let go of her hands and, putting his weight on his hands, rose above her. Never taking his gaze from hers, he fit his cock into her pussy and began a slow, deep, rocking movement that sped faster and faster until the bed shook beneath them and banged the wall.
* * * *
“Get me a glass of water, please, Dave?” Shari whispered.
�
��Sure. Back in a flash.”
Dave debated whether to throw on some clothes. Hell, it was one in the morning. The cabin was totally silent. Frank and Marcie were probably fast asleep, spooned together in bed. Or was Frank lying on his back with Marcie’s breasts squashed against his side? Did the blanket cover them, or was Frank’s cock at rest after fucking her? Was she on her back, Frank’s dark hair half concealing her nipples? Was Frankie’s hard, lean body slicked with sweat, his hair damp, covering his jawline? Was Marcie kneading the muscles in Frank’s taut ass as she bent to take his cock deep in her mouth? His long, thick, hard cock?
God, gotta stop thinking of him—them.
“Dave?”
“Going.”
* * * *
“Frankie, will you be a sweetie and get my bag?” Marcie grinned. “I brought my vibrator with me…just in case. It’s in my purse.”
Frank smiled back. It felt good not having to hide anything from Marcie, not even how much he loved Dave. He still couldn’t believe what she’d told him about that harem scenario. Hell, his love life seemed tame compared with hers. Love life? What love life? He hadn’t been out with anyone in months.
The bed banging had stopped a while ago. Dave and Shari must have finally run out of steam. Thank God.
After Marcie and he had talked earlier, they decided to try to sleep. Sometime during the night she had cuddled close to him. He had slipped off his boxers to feel her hot, soft skin next to his. It felt good.
“Problem, sweetie?”
“No, no problem.”
* * * *
Dave lay on his back, staring at the cracked ceiling. He could hear Shari’s quiet, even breathing as she slept. She hadn’t said anything to him when he came back without the water she’d asked for. Hadn’t said a thing when he just slipped into the bed and drew the blanket up over them. He’d finally muttered that he thought they’d better conserve the water and asked her to deal with it until the morning. She agreed without questioning him.
Thank God.
Because he had some questions he had to ask himself.
When had he begun to notice Frank’s body?
When had the thought of watching Frank make love begun to turn him on?
When had visions of Frank’s butt muscles flexing as he pumped his cock into someone made him hard, too?
He rolled over on his side away from Shari. He could see the closed bedroom door.
What would happen if he knocked on Marcie and Frank’s door and asked to come in?
What would he do if they said yes?
He was afraid to answer the question.
He punched the pillow underneath his head and willed himself to relax. To think of something calming.
Not visions of Frank’s sweaty body.
He finally fell asleep at dawn.
* * * *
“The snow is still coming down.” Marcie turned from the window. A sliver of pale sunlight glinted on the dirty windowpane. “I can’t even see the car.”
“I tried to get a signal on my cell.” Dave stared at the innocuous device in his hand with frustration. “Nothing.”
A clatter of wood drew the attention of them both to the fireplace. Frank kneeled by the smoldering fire, stacking a fresh pile of wood. “Whoever built this cabin was pretty damn clever. There’s a small hinged door on the outside wall where the wood is stored. You just pull the logs in and when you see the top of the pile, you know it’s low, and you cut more.” He paused. “I can’t see the top yet.”
Dave smiled. “My gramps was a smart guy.” He sighed. “But a little too trusting.”
“Come and get it,” Shari called from the kitchen.
They trooped into the shadowed room. Shari had scrounged up some faded tea towels from somewhere and four places had been set. Besides the two tipsy chairs, Dave and Frank had dragged in a worn-out hassock and an empty wooden chest from one of the bedrooms. A jar of peanut butter sat in the middle of the table, the sugar canister next to it. A platter of crackers was fanned out on the dented top of a pot. Whiffs of coffee wafted in the air.
Marcie’s stomach rumbled, and she laughed and patted it.
“You get the seal of approval. I am seriously impressed, Miss Shari. I didn’t know you were so domestic.”
Dave kissed Shari’s cheek. “I didn’t know either. I haven’t seen her domestic side. Yet.” He sat down and inhaled the aroma of the dark brew in the cup before him. “You’ve done a terrific job.”
Shari blushed to the roots of her hair. “Thanks. It really wasn’t anything.”
“I’m going to pretend I’m at some weird fat farm run by a crazy person from a horror film and just enjoy.” Marcie reached for the peanut butter jar and opened it, sighing with delight as she sniffed the familiar nutty scent. She clutched the jar to her chest and shoved it under her shirt.
Marcie’s outrageous actions lightened the mood once more.
Frank groaned.
“I don’t think I’ll ever look at peanut butter the same again. Oh, well, I was going to ask for seconds.”
“Sorry. I’m screwing the cook. I’m the only one who gets seconds.” Dave grabbed Shari, and she squealed as he plunked her down on his lap, tickling her.
* * * *
“I like your roommate,” Dave muttered to Shari. He watched Marcie and Frank play Mad Libs, an old word game they’d found stuck underneath the couch. Only half of the puzzles were filled. He recognized his handwriting, Frank’s, and his gramp’s. He must have brought the game pad up one time when he visited and forgotten it. “She could have been a real bitch about this, but she hasn’t complained at all.”
Shari nodded. “Marcie is great. She’s been on a couple of stories with me, and when I found out about the brownstone, I asked her to go halfsies. She’s really talented. One of these days she'll take a picture and she’ll win a Pulitzer.”
Dave tweaked her nose. “And you’ll win one for your investigative reporting.”
She shook her head. “I’m not interested in one. I’m looking for a Tony.”
“A Tony? You want to write a play? I didn’t…” His voice trailed off.
She settled deeper in his embrace and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You’re not the only one who didn’t know.” She shifted and looked up at him. “In fact, now you’re the only one who does. It’s why I decided to write for a smaller paper, rather than go after one bigger. This way I have more opportunity to pick the stories I want to do. I’ve been collecting human-interest narratives for two years now. I want to write a play about them.” She smiled tremulously. “Crazy, huh?”
Dave tipped her chin and kissed her. “Not crazy.”
* * * *
“Man, tuna fish, crackers, creamed corn. Who would have thought if you heated them up together you’d have fish chowder?” Dave leaned back in his chair. “God knows what you could do with a full larder.”
Marcie laughed. “You see why I won’t go downstairs to her place for dinner? I’d get as fat as a pig.” She chuckled. “Oops, not kosher. Shari better learn to how to make latkes this Hanukah.”
Frank smiled. Even though it hurt to see up close and personal how much Dave cared for Shari, it still felt good just to be near him. And sharing his secret with Marcie made it that much more bearable.
“Well, gang. Time to strip-dreidel,” Marcie announced.
“I’ll rinse these things off. It’ll only take a second.” Shari gathered the few reusable items and wiped them off with a napkin and then a damp towel. “This will have to do; can’t use too much water—gotta conserve, after all.” She spread the damp towel neatly on the edge of the sink. “C’mon. Let’s play.”
Shari spun first. The top danced in a crazy circle on the floor. Nun—nothing.
“My turn.” Dave picked up the top and twirled.
“Shin.” He turned to Marcie. “How about giving me that stunning scarf?”
“Chicken,” Marcie teased, but untied the rainbow-colored silk length from arou
nd her neck and handed it over.
As the evening wore on it became obvious who the night’s winner would be.
Marcie wore her thong and Frank’s shirt open to display her unsupported tits. Shari kneeled on both knees, the Brazilian wax job evident to everyone, along with a triangular tattoo below her navel. Marcie leaned forward on her hands and knees to get a better look.
“Why, Shari, I didn’t know you had a tattoo, too, and on your belly.” Marcie peered closely at the tiny pink rose edged in crimson. “Why a rose?”
“It was my mom’s favorite flower. And my full name—Sharon Rose Nelson.” She looked at Dave. “I got it last year after she passed away.”
“Well, it looks like you’re the winner, Shari.” Frank stood. “We’ll see you guys in the morning.”
“Wait.” She took a deep breath and looked directly at him. “I want you.”
* * * *
Shari threw on one of Dave’s T-shirts and shut the bedroom door behind her and Frank. He stood awkwardly by the dresser. Tonight he still had on his shorts and socks.
“Have a seat, Frank. I’m not going to bite you.” She paused. “I don’t think.”
He sank down on the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed and looked at her steadily.
“Why did you pick me, Shari? I don’t understand.”
She sighed and shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed. She pulled the sheet up around her feet and rocked back and forth for a moment. “Because you’re Dave’s closest friend and you know him the best.” She ducked her head and looked at her fingers twined in her lap. She took a deep breath, then lifted her head and looked directly at him.
“Why did Dave become a cop? Why vice?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“I’m afraid to.” She gulped. “I…Frank, I’m not lily white. I’m afraid if Dave finds out, he’ll…”
Frank shook his head.
“You really should ask him, but I’ll tell you what I know.” He stood and began to pace the floor. “Dave’s smart, clever, and athletic. He could have gone to college on a basketball scholarship, but he didn’t want to. He went to John Jay and took criminal law.” He paused. “God, he was so passionate about it. Then my cousin Joey came to visit from Boston, and that was it. Dave listened to all his stories, and it was like a blinding light went on in him.” Frank’s voice thickened with emotion and his eyes grew dreamy. “If I thought he was passionate before, he was possessed then. He wanted to be ‘super cop.’ I’d come back to the apartment and be afraid I’d find a voice message saying he’d been shot.”
The Game Page 3