by Tim Waggoner
Caroline let go of his hand then, and Aaron felt a pang of disappointment. He’d known his role of comforter would be temporary — it always was — but he’d hoped it would last longer than —
She came around to his side of the examining table, her expression no longer one of worry. All traces of fear and anxiety had vanished, and she now moved with a confident grace that Aaron found at once enticing and intimidating. A small smile played about her lips as she closed to within a few inches of him and put her hands on his shoulders.
“I really enjoyed seeing you this morning.” She pressed her body closer until they were just touching. Aaron was taller than her, and his crotch pressed against her abdomen just above her pubic mound. Aaron felt feverish, and his penis jumped as if an electric current surged through it. He wondered if she’d felt it, was certain she had to, he wanted to, though he knew he shouldn’t.
“Me, too.” His reply came out as a whisper. It was lame, but it was the best he could manage at the moment. The cognitive functions of his brain had been placed on hold as blood was diverted southward, and really what use was intellect at times like these anyway?
“I’ve noticed you looking at me before.” She leaned forward, stood on her tiptoes, and brushed her lips softly against his. “I mean really looking.” She took her right hand from his shoulder and reached down to begin rubbing his hardening penis through his pants. “I liked it … Do you like this?”
She got a good grip on his organ and squeezed.
Aaron’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t respond.
This was like something out of a dream. No, better, for this was real.
Yeah, but that also makes it dangerous. What happens if Patti comes back and sees this? What if Diane finds out? Worse, what if Kristen does?
He knew what he should do. He should gently push Caroline away, then take a step back to put even more distance between them. He should remind her that they were both married, and as tempting as it might be to give in to their feelings, they had their spouses to think about. That what he should do. What he wanted to do was bend Caroline over the examination table, lift up her skirt, and fuck her senseless.
She kissed him, the moist tip if her tongue sliding past his lips and into her mouth. At first he was hesitant to meet it, for doing so would mean that he was choosing to be part of this, that for the first time he was willingly cheating on his wife. But her hand continued kneading his cock, and his reluctance vanished like morning fog burned away by a blazing summer sun. He opened his mouth wider and probed her tongue with his. Circling, sliding, sucking …
Caroline removed her other hand from Aaron’s shoulder, reached down, and began undoing his belt buckle. He reached beneath her blouse with his right hand, unhooked her bra, and began fondling one of her breasts. With his left hand he reached beneath the back of her skirt and found the smooth taut skin of her ass. He now knew for certain that she wore no underwear. Caroline finished unbuckling his belt, and his pants — which were made of light fabric — slid smoothly down his legs and around his ankles. Caroline’s kisses became more intense as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his underwear and began to tug it down. He felt the fabric move over his penis, and then the cool hair hit the skin as his cock bobbed free. His organ throbbed in time with his pulse, almost as it were already experiencing mini-orgasms. He moved his right hand to her other breast, pinching the stiff nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it around. He moved his left hand from her ass around to her vagina, intending to slide his fingers into her, but he only managed to brush her pubic hair before she pulled away from him.
At first he feared that she had changed her mind, that she’d had second thoughts and unlike him had chosen to listen to them. But when she got down on her knees before him, gripped the shaft of her penis with one hand and began tonguing the slit in his glans, he knew she hadn’t changed her mind at all.
Aaron had only just managed to rebuckle his belt when Patti came back with Mr. Jinks and the x-rays. As he looked at the pictures of the cat’s broken leg, Caroline petted the animal, who once again stood on the examination table. Aaron’s penis ached and semen still oozed from the tip to dampen his underwear. Patti stood nearby, waiting for him to render his prognosis. He wondered if the odors of Caroline’s and his … lovemaking wasn’t the proper term, not for what they’d done. And you couldn’t call it fucking, since it had only gone so far. Messing around would do, he decided. He wondered if the smells of their messing around — the rich musk of Caroline’s cunt, the ripe odor of his jism — lingered in the air, still strong enough for Patti to smell. If so, he doubted she’d recognize them for what they were, would most likely put it down to the everyday animal miasma that hung in the air here. At least, that’s what he hoped.
Mr. Jinks’ break was clean, the x-ray confirming what his probing fingers had already told him. He was about to ask Patti to help him get ready to put a cast on the cat’s injured leg when he realized there was something odd about the x-rays. He looked at them again, paying closer attention this time. From the way the broken edges of the bone looked, it appeared that the break hadn’t been caused by an impact but was rather the result of applied pressure. In other words, someone had broken the cat’s leg on purpose.
Aaron looked up from the x-ray pictures to tell Caroline what he suspected, but then he remembered what she’d said. Mr. Jinks had been fine when she returned from jogging and let him out, and her backyard was completely enclosed. That would make it difficult for someone — like a bored neighbor kid that had grown tired of committing virtual mayhem on his X-Box and longed to try the real thing — to sneak in and break Mr. Jinks’ leg. Difficult, but not impossible. Whoever had taken the cat’s leg, gripped it with both hands, and snapped the bone in two would most likely have gotten clawed during the process. Unless it was someone the cat knew and trusted … someone ruthless enough to break the bone fast, in a single violent motion, and release the animal before it could strike back.
Caroline had no scratches on her hands. But then, she was Mr. Jinks’ owner, the one who fed him, petted him, called him a good, sweet little kitty … While Mr. Jinks might wonder why his favorite human took his rear leg in her hands, he’d have let her do it. And though he also might’ve sensed something was wrong when her grip began to tighten, he still wouldn’t have struggled, wouldn’t have swiped at her with his claws. And when the first fissures began to appear in the bone …
Aaron thrust the thought away. It was ridiculous to even fantasize that Caroline might’ve broken the leg of her own cat and then bring it in to be seen by a vet. What possible reason could she have for committing such a horrible act?
To have an excuse to see you again, of course — and to get you alone so she could slurp down a little man-milk.
Caroline was looking at him expectantly, but there was no hint of guilt in her eyes, no sign of concern that Aaron had realized what she’d done. In fact, there was nothing to indicate that only a few moments ago she’d practically swallowed his cock while he pumped his load down her throat. She looked like any other patient waiting for him to give her his prognosis.
He imagined the loud crack of Mr. Jinks’ leg snapping, could almost hear the cat’s shrill scream of agonized betrayal …
He forced himself to smile. “Like I said earlier, it’s a clean break. Once we get a cast on it, Mr. Jinks should heal quickly.” He turned to Patti before Caroline could say anything. “Would you mind assisting me?” He could set a bone and put a cast on it by himself when need be, but the procedure went faster when he had help. Besides, he didn’t want to be alone with Caroline, not right now.
“Not at all, Doctor.” Patti glanced at Caroline, as if to say, Screw you, sister. You’re not getting any more time alone with him. Then she went over to the cabinet against the wall where medical supplies were kept and began gathering the materials necessary to take care of Mr. Jinks’ leg.
Caroline smiled. “What a relief. Thank
you so much, Aaron.”
Patti scowled when Caroline called Aaron by his first name, though she didn’t turn to look at the other woman this time.
Caroline took a step toward him, though she didn’t come close enough to touch him. In a lowered voice, she said, “Some friends and I are getting together later this evening. Maybe you’d like to join us?” Her tone was innocent enough, but her eyes smoldered with lust and secrets, promises and mysteries.
Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Caroline actually inviting him to visit the club — or whatever it was — that lay behind the gray door?
He glanced in Patti’s direction, but she was still sorting through the supplies in the cabinet, searching for what she needed. But Aaron was certain she was still paying attention. He turned back to Caroline, and in a voice barely above a whisper said, “I’d like that. I’ll drop by if I can make it.” He didn’t want to seem too eager, not with Patti in the room, undoubtedly listening to their every word.
Caroline grinned. “Great!”
He wanted to see if she would tell him where tonight’s gathering was going to be held. Normally, that would be the next step in the conversation. We’re getting together at Tessa’s tonight. Tess and Bill McPhereson? Do you know them? Here, let me write down directions for you. But there would be no need for directions — not if Aaron already knew which place she was talking about.
“Ready, Doctor,” Patti said, her voice a touch too loud.
Aaron looked at Caroline. She looked back, still grinning, but she didn’t say anything further.
“Okay, then,” Aaron said. “Let’s take care of Mr. Jinks, shall we?”
Caroline gave him a meaningful look, as if to say, And later tonight we’ll take care of you.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aaron’s last patient for the day was a toy poodle in desperate need of a flea dip. The little fucker nipped a couple of Aaron’s fingers while he’d been examining her, so he let Patti do the dip. She had a more natural way with animals than he did and hardly ever got bit, clawed, pissed or shit on.
Aaron took care of some paperwork while Patti finished with the poodle. She stopped by his office to say goodnight, gave him a funny look that he couldn’t interpret, then left. A few minutes later, he powered down his computer and left himself. He walked into the waiting room and even though it was closing in on six o’clock, he saw that Diane still sat at her desk, fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer with the speed and grace of a concert pianist.
He walked up to the reception window and leaned on the counter. “Why don’t you go on home, Diane? Whatever you’re doing, it can wait until tomorrow.”
Diane’s husband had passed away a while back, so she was never in a hurry to go home. Even so, Aaron figured she had to have something better to do with her time than get a leg up on tomorrow’s work. And if she didn’t, then she needed to find something, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do so sitting at her desk.
“Just a few more minutes, Doctor, and then I’ll knock off. Promise.” Diane didn’t take her gaze from her monitor as she spoke. The fact that she didn’t make eye contact and that she’d called him Doctor instead of Aaron, as she always did when there were no patients around, told him something was wrong.
“Everything okay?” He wanted to get out of here, was planning to drive by the Valley View Shopping Center on his way home, maybe cruise through the parking lot and take a look at the fuckle door before heading home for dinner with his wife and kids. But he couldn’t simply walk away from Diane. She’d worked for him too many years for him to blow her off, much as he might want to.
“Nothing,” she said in a tone that made it perfectly clear she meant something.
It’s obvious what’s bugging her. She knows about your afternoon delight with Caroline.
How she knew, he had no idea, but as soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew it was true. Maybe Patti had suspected something, perhaps even returned to the examination room before Caroline and he were finished, had heard them and scurried off to return several minutes later, when they were finally done. Patti hadn’t shown any sign of it at the time, but maybe she was a better actress than she seemed. And if Patti knew, it wouldn’t have been long before she told Diane.
However it had happened, the damage had been done. The question was what to do about it.
“Uh, Diane …”
“No need to say anything, Doctor.” She kept her gaze fixed on her monitor, her hand in constant motion on the keys. He couldn’t tell for sure from this angle, but it looked like she had a word processing program open and was typing a string of nonsense syllables, as if she were only pretending to work. “Everyone is entitled to one mistake.” She paused and gave him a quick glance. “But only one.” Then she turned back to the screen.
Aaron nodded slowly. “Message received. Good night, Diane.” Feeling like a naughty little boy that had just been scolded by his grandmother, he turned and started for the front door.
“Good night,” Diane said, and then so softly he almost didn’t hear it, she added, “Aaron.”
Aaron’s office, the Ptolemy Veterinary Clinic, was located on the western edge of downtown between Tiny Tots Daycare and Advanced Medical Imaging. The three businesses shared a singled too-small parking lot in back of their buildings, and it tended to get a little crowded at times. But it was after business hours, and there were few cars in the lot. Aaron always parked in the back so his patients could park closer to the building. He usually didn’t mind the walk. It wasn’t very far, and he figured he could use every little bit of exercise he could get. But the heat and humidity were oppressive and sapped the life out of him. He felt beads of sweat begin to run down the back of his neck, along his spine, pooling at the small of his back. It didn’t help that he felt like a complete bastard after Diane’s warning. He was confident that she wouldn’t say anything to Kristen — this time. But the fact that someone he worked with, someone he cared for and respected, knew what he’d done and strongly disapproved made him feel like a grade-A, first-class, number-one shitheel. Hot, depressed, and miserable, he kept his gaze downcast as he walked toward his car. Maybe he shouldn’t go to Caroline’s club tonight … hell, of course he shouldn’t go. But even after Diane’s scolding, he still wanted to, as much as ever. And in a perverse way, maybe even more. If Caroline was forbidden fruit before, then she was doubly so now.
As he drew near his Lexus, he heard a car door open. Aaron looked up and saw a man getting out of a light-blue VW bug — not one of the new ones, but an old sixties or seventies bug, rust-eaten around the edges, tires so bald they had no visible tread — that was parked only a couple spaces away from his Lexus. The man was medium height, stocky, with a pronounced gut. His shaven head was covered with patchy stubble, scabs, and white flakes of peeling skin. His facial features were soft and doughy, cheeks saggy, dewflap under his chin, puffy discolored bags beneath his blood-shot eyes. The man was in dire need of a shave. The lower half of his face was covered by dark blue, as if he had a large bruise there. His five o’clock shadow was so strong as to be almost comical, and it made Aaron think of Fred Flintstone’s perpetual caveman stubble.
The man shut his car door, then vigorously rubbed his scabbed and flaking scalp, causing pieces of dry skin and crumbly scab to drift down onto the shoulders of his white T-shirt. At least, Aaron assumed it was white, or had been once. It was now a sour yellowish color, like germ-ridden pus, and splotched with numerous stains, many of which looked like dried blood. He wore his shirt untucked over a pair of old jeans, holes in the knees, cuffs frayed, bare toes with yellowed and cracked nails sticking out from underneath. The asphalt had to be burning hot given the temperature, but the man showed no sign of discomfort as he walked barefoot toward Aaron, still rubbing his scalp.
Aaron assumed the man was homeless, maybe one of those people who lived out of their cars. And from the look of him, he was also one of those individuals that liked to engage in
deep philosophical conversations with brick walls on city street corners. Aaron had nothing against the homeless or mentally ill, and he knew better than to automatically equate the two. But this guy seemed to fit the worst stereotypes of both. He looked crazy, dangerous, and worse yet, like he wanted to hit up Aaron for a handout.
Got any spare change? I just need a couple bucks to tide me over for the next day or two. Anything you can give, I’d sure appreciate it.
When Aaron had been younger, he’d almost always given people money when they asked for some “spare change.” But he’d grown cynical in his middle age, or perhaps simply more realistic. He knew that any money he gave this guy would end up in a liquor store cash register within the hour. Aaron couldn’t decide how best to deal with the scab-headed man. Should he continue walking to his Lexus, try to ignore the guy, get in, shut the door, lock it, and get the hell out of there as fast as he could?
He parked close to your car on purpose. He figured whoever owned a Lexus could afford to front him a few bucks.
What if Scab-Head was one of those persistent, belligerent beggars? The kind that won’t take fuck-off for an answer. What if he tried to make Aaron fork over his money? What if he wasn’t a beggar but a mugger instead?
Aaron wanted to turn around and head back toward the building, but he was already halfway across the parking lot, and Scab-Head had closed to within twenty feet of him. If Aaron turned and ran, would the guy pursue him? Aaron was no athlete, but he was thinner and in way better shape than Scab-Head and could most likely outrun him.
Don’t be such a pussy. You’re a grown man, not a little boy who runs away whenever someone says boo. Show a little backbone, kid.
The Dad-Voice was right. He’d let his imagination get the better of him. He’d just continue to his car and try to avoid making eye contact with Scab-Head. And if the man started talking to Aaron, maybe following him to his car, then he’d deal with it — one way or another.