by Sadie Rabbit
I don’t bother stripping off your clothes. We don’t have time for that. I slip the crotch of your underwear to one side, then grab my manhood at the base and use it to slap you gently between your legs. I rub myself there until we’re both wet. Then, I slide inside.
Just as we get started, there’s a knock at the door.
“Give me a minute,” I call out. “I’ve had something of a costume malfunction. Can you use another bathroom?” There’s no answer from the other side. Quickly, I move in and out of you. I reach around and slip my hands inside your blouse, massaging your breasts from behind.
In the mirror, I can see you’re biting your lower lip as you strain to stay quiet. Your eyes are squeezed shut.
“Tell me you like it,” I whisper in your ear.
You shake your head back and forth.
“Tell me you like it,” I say.
You start moaning instead, your eyes closed as if you’re concentrating on a very difficult problem.
“Do you like my cock?” I whisper.
You nod.
“Do you like it inside you?” I ask.
You start moaning again, louder this time. You use one hand to grab my ass and pull me deeper inside you.
That’s all it takes. I start going faster. I pull your breasts from your blouse and squeeze. I use them, too, to pull myself deeper into you.
“Fuck,” I hear you say. “I like it.”
Then, your legs are shaking. You pull your knees together, clamping down so hard on my manhood that I almost finish inside of you. You’re trembling — the movements travel up your back and into your shoulders.
You stop for just a moment, and then start trembling again, softer and not as long this time.
After you’ve finished, you stand, and my hardness slips out of you. You switch places with me, so I’m the one with my hands on the sink with my back to you. I can see my manhood throbbing in the mirror in front of me. Then, I see your hands wrap around my hips and lock down tightly on my cock. You start stroking aggressively. I can see you staring at my cock in the mirror. It’s almost like you’re studying it, trying to burn it into your mind. I love the look of your delicate hands around my shaft. You move faster and faster until your hands are a blur.
My cock begins to pulse and turn a deeper shade of purple. And now it’s my turn to start trembling. I spread my legs apart and feel each of your strokes deep down into my thighs.
With your left hand stroking me up and down, you use your other hand to pinch the moist tip of my cock between your thumb and forefingers. You smash it down, and it swells back up again, faster and faster. The sensation is so intense that I nearly pull myself away from you. It’s almost more than I can take.
And when the finish comes, I’m breathless. You watch as come shoots into the sink. I love the fact that you’re watching. I want to show all of myself to you. I could never hide any of it.
I turn to kiss you passionately, my manhood hard between your thighs.
There’s nothing left for us to say. You glance at yourself in the mirror, straighten your wig and reapply your makeup. Then, you look at me, and I think how lucky I am to be in the presence of such an incredible woman. Even if I never see you again, I’ve had this moment. You have my soul, I think, but I don’t speak. Instead, I watch as you wash your hands. When they’re dry, you run them through my hair, kiss me on the cheek and say, “Don’t call me.”
“Unless you ask me to,” I say.
“Unless I ask you to.”
Chapter V: Heroes among us
The costumes sat side by side on the bed. They looked like two deflated superheroes without their souls.
There was Olivia’s one-piece leather Catwoman costume, hand-tailored by an associate at Foy’s. Beside it, lay a long leather whip and Mike’s ‘Dark Knight’ costume. Olivia stripped down to her panties and worked her way into the leather, while Mike struggled with his boots. The thick sound and smell of leather was in the air.
“Superheroes don’t talk about how hard it is to get dressed,” Olivia said.
Mike snorted behind her.
Olivia went to him to clasp his chest-plate into place. She was on the last hook when the doorbell rang. Charlotte and Kenneth. Olivia ran down to greet them, and she gasped when she saw them in the porch light. She’d completely forgotten they were dressing up as Superman and Lois Lane.
Oh God! she thought. This can’t be happening.
“Are you alright, Olivia?” Kenneth asked. “I know we look good, but I don’t think we look that good.”
Olivia regained her composure.
“I’m just overwhelmed by those muscles you’re showing off,” she said, squeezing Kenneth on the arm. The arms and torso of his costume obviously had silicone padding underneath. Nonetheless, Olivia had to admit he looked pretty good.
Charlotte and Kenneth were always the couple who stole the room. Their hair was flawless; their taste in clothing impeccable, and Charlotte’s yoga-tuned body looked like it could grace magazine covers.
“How about a little bourbon to pre-party?” Mike said as he strutted into the living room, black cape whirling behind him.
“You read my mind, Master Wayne” Kenneth said. “Do you ladies want anything?”
They asked for Malbec, and the men disappeared into the kitchen.
Olivia grabbed Charlotte by the elbow and sat her down on the couch. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said.
She told Charlotte the whole story: the fact that her mysterious sex whisperer was going to be at the ball tonight, and, more importantly, that he’d come up with a rather naughty storyline involving Superman and Lois Lane.
What was even more amazing, Olivia thought — without telling Charlotte — was the fact that Charlotte looked exactly like the woman Thomas had described. She was wearing a long, full-bodied black wig, thick-framed glasses and very dark, almost blood-red lipstick. Beneath that, she had on a scandalously open white blouse, a tight mini-skirt and ankle-breaking heels.
“This is just too good!” Charlotte squealed. “You’ve got to play me a bit of the recording, so I can tell if he talks to me.”
“No way,” Olivia said.
Charlotte looked crestfallen. “Why not?”
“It’s getting a little too real for me,” Olivia said. “This was all supposed to be anonymous. I can’t have Mike figuring out I’ve had anything to do with a sex whisperer.”
“Like he’s going to know what that is,” Charlotte said. “Besides, how’s the fact that I know what the sex whisperer’s voice sounds like going to change the situation? And, he won’t suspect that Catwoman is his mystery client. This is our golden opportunity, Liv. We get a chance to see what this sex whisperer looks like, and he has no idea who we are. We just have to make sure we overhear his voice.”
Olivia had to admit she was a little curious about what Thomas looked like. Hopefully, he’s just average-looking, she thought. If he’s hot, that would complicate things too much. Indeed, it might be better if he were balding and overweight. Then, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.
Charlotte used both hands to drag Olivia upstairs, and soon they sat side-by-side sharing a pair of pink earbuds while they listened to the recording.
Olivia played the first two sentences: “I know that I shouldn’t do this,” it began. “Still, I pick up the phone and dial your number.”
“Ooooooh,” Charlotte said. “Sexy voice!”
Before Olivia realized what was happening, Charlotte had grabbed the mouse and jumped the recording ahead. It started playing an embarrassing scene:
“You look down at my costume and can see I’ve already gotten hard. You take in a quick, deep breath. I turn you around so that your hands are on the sink, and I lift your skirt over your bottom. With one hand, you’re reaching behind yourself, tugging down my tights and underwear, exposing all of me.
“I don’t bother stripping off your clothes. We don’t have time for that. I slip the crotch of
your underwear to one side, then grab my manhood at the base and use it to slap you gently between your legs. I rub myself there until we’re both wet. Then, I slide inside.”
The whole time the recording played, Olivia fought to hit the pause button and Charlotte fought to stop her. When she finally succeeded, Charlotte sat beside her bright-eyed and beaming.
“Now, I can see why you like these so much,” she said. “My God, Olivia, you’re blushing.”
Olivia already knew she was blushing, and the fact that her best friend called her out on it made it worse.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. “I shouldn’t have done that, but you have to give me this guy’s email address this instant. I’m dying to get my own sex whisper.”
Olivia wanted Thomas to herself, but she relented in the end. The whole sex whisperer thing might be less stressful if she had a partner in crime.
Charlotte tucked the slip of paper with Thomas’s email address safely in her purse, and the women hurried downstairs where two glasses of much-needed Malbec were waiting.
∞
“I’m supposed to be Bruce Wayne, aren’t I?” Mike said as the limousine pulled into the driveway. “Would he drive himself to a ball? Absolutely not. He’d show up in style.”
The men climbed into the back of the limo and lit cigars, while the women sat opposite them, their second glasses of wine in hand.
“I asked Kenneth to say something about Hawaii,” Charlotte whispered.
“You didn’t!”
Charlotte nodded toward the two men, and Olivia strained to hear them over the music. Paparazzi by Lady Gaga was piping through the speakers, and Olivia hit the remote to turn it down a notch.
“I’d keep an eye on her,” Olivia heard Kenneth say.
She winced, knowing that Mike didn’t like anyone knowing their personal affairs, even their closest friends. Still, she could tell by her husband’s flushed face that he was already feeling the bourbon. He was infinitely more agreeable with a glass or two of Maker’s Mark in his tummy.
“I booked us two cabanas on the beach just in case,” Charlotte whispered. “They’re about two miles down the coast from where a lot of the Lost scenes were filmed.”
Olivia sighed like Charlotte knew that she would. The two women had watched Lost religiously. They debated the meaning of each episode for years until it finally came to an end. There hadn’t been a show like it since. Olivia wanted to tour some of the sets from the show. So did Charlotte. Who knows if that will ever happen? She tried to stop thinking about it and poured herself another glass of Malbec. I’ve got a party to go to.
By the time they got to the Superhero ball, everyone in their group was loose. Olivia and Charlotte walked arm-in-arm toward the entrance, the men trailing a few feet behind.
Up the grand stone staircase, the scene inside was marvelous. Another Lady Gaga song, Just Dance, was playing, and an army of superheroes bounced and glided on the marble dance floor. Just about every gloved hand held a drink, and Olivia found herself trying to count all of the Lois Lanes.
Unfortunately, there weren’t nearly as many as there had been in Thomas’s whisper. She only spotted one, and that was a man dressed in drag!
“This is not going to go well,” Olivia said.
Charlotte smiled. “It’s going to go marvelously.”
“There’s only one other Lois Lane, and it’s a guy!” Olivia said.
“I know,” Charlotte said, beaming.
Olivia felt faint. “I need a drink,” she said, turning to Mike. As she did, she saw Mike was already holding a glass of champagne for her.
Champagne! Olivia thought. Thomas even predicted the drinks we’d be having in his sex whisper. This is like some bizarre episode of The Twilight Zone.
When she turned back to find Charlotte, her heart dropped. Her best friend was talking to a guy she’d never seen before. She struggled to hear what they were saying, but the music was too loud. She didn’t approach the stranger. Instead, she studied him. He was dressed as Captain America. A blue mask covered the top half of his face, so Olivia could only make out his mouth, eyes and jawline. He carried a shield in his left hand and a glass of champagne in his right.
Whatever the masked man was saying to Charlotte seemed to be working. She was laughing hysterically with her hand cupped over her mouth. Olivia flushed and turned around, determined to stop jumping to conclusions.
A few moments later, Charlotte walked by her, mouthed the words “bathroom, now,” and kept walking. Olivia looked back at her husband. He and Kenneth were having a grand time talking to a woman in a bikini and thigh-high boots. Okay, Olivia thought, that’s not a costume. That’s just a woman who likes dressing like a slut.
In the bathroom, Charlotte locked the door behind them. “So it was him,” she said.
“Captain America?” Olivia asked. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” Charlotte said. “His voice … you can’t forget that voice. Then, get this, he told me he was working on a short story that had Lois Lane as one of the characters.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Olivia said. “You didn’t give us away, did you?”
“Of course not,” Charlotte said. “I’m not a complete bimbo. I just acted like I was. I laughed at all his jokes and didn’t ask him any personal questions. Anyway, you’re not going to believe this, I talked him into posing for a photo with me.”
Charlotte pulled out her phone, zoomed in on Captain America and handed it over. Olivia studied him carefully. She felt faint again. Even with the mask on, she could tell Thomas looked a lot like the “fantasy man” she’d described a week ago: he had slate gray eyes, a five o’clock shadow and a slender but muscular build. He’s even an author!
“You have to send this to me,” Olivia said. “And we should probably act like we don’t know each other in the ball so he doesn’t put two and two together.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Charlotte said. “He seemed convinced I didn’t know who he was, but he’ll probably keep an eye on me to see who I talk to.”
Back on the dance floor, Olivia peeled her husband away from Kenneth and convinced him to dance. Mike didn’t complain. The bourbon and champagne combo was working miracles. Once she got Mike dancing, it was hard to get him off the floor. Perfect, she thought. I just want to look like a woman out dancing with her husband — not a love-starved housewife who hired a sex whisperer.
Twenty minutes later, Olivia realized she was having fun with her husband. That hadn’t happened in months — years maybe. She’d bumped into another couple she knew from her master gardening class, and the four of them danced in a circle. The waiters kept their champagne glasses full, and occasionally, other Batmen would approach and ask Olivia to join in a picture. She posed as scandalously as she could, hips thrust out, lips puckered.
The evening flew by, and she shared several passionate kisses with Mike on the dance floor. Normally, Mike didn’t like PDA, but the booze and costume seemed to embolden him.
When they raised the lights to signal the end of the ball, Olivia and Mike were soaked in sweat. They were two out some 30 couples who had made it to the end of the night. Charlotte and Kenneth were already headed for the exit. Olivia scanned the room anxiously, but there was no sign of Captain America. That suited her just fine.
When they caught up with their friends, Olivia linked arms with Charlotte. They traded some of the crude comments they’d received on the dance floor. The limo driver had just opened the door to the backseat when they spotted Captain America. He was about 20 yards off leaning casually against one of the museum’s ornate columns. He seemed completely unperturbed that they’d spotted him. He just stared casually in their direction as they climbed into the limo and drove off into the night.
∞
Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest. She sat hand-in-hand with Charlotte while the boys smoked their second cigars. The moonroof was open, and they flicked ashes out the opening. They were both drunk, talking too l
oudly amongst themselves to overhear their wives.
“It seemed like he was waiting for us,” Olivia said.
“Definitely,” Charlotte said. “What if he’s some stalker freak?”
“You talked to him,” Olivia said. “What’s he like?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I’d say he was a gentleman. He was funny, nice, well-mannered. And that voice! It’s like silk.”
Olivia sighed. “You didn’t notice anything unusual?”
“No,” Charlotte said, “except for his ring. He was wearing a giant gold and red ring on his right hand. I couldn’t read it, but it didn’t look like a college graduation ring. It was classier than that.”
Olivia wanted to roll down the window, poke her head out and make sure they weren’t being followed. Mike would start asking questions, though.
“I know this is weird, but it’s kind of exciting, too, isn’t it?” Charlotte asked.
“No, Charlotte,” Olivia said. “It’s not exciting. It’s scary. If Mike finds out, he’ll kill me.” She stole a glance at her husband who was puffing away on his cigar.
“Right,” Charlotte said. “I guess if it was happening to anyone else, it’d be exciting. But, it’s happening to my best friend, and we need to stop it. I won’t email him. You need to cut him off, too. It’s the only way.”
Charlotte pulled the paper with Thomas’s email address from her purse, mashed it into a ball and tossed it out the moonroof.
“So now we just need to start putting the whole thing behind us,” Charlotte said. Then, she leaned closer and whispered, “Besides, you’re going to have other things on your mind when you get home.” She nodded toward Mike and Kenneth. Both men were staring at their wives.
“What are you ladies talking about so excitedly?” Kenneth asked.