Whatever It Takes

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Whatever It Takes Page 2

by Ben Boswell


  We'd never really had any crazy nights of passion. Part of it was that Kris was always very regimented, and that included birth control. She didn't want to be on the pill, didn't like the idea of anything remaining in her body, her system. So we used condoms religiously. Spontaneity was out.

  The one exception to our birth control routine was two brief periods, two years apart when we'd been trying to get Kris pregnant. Not that we were particularly spontaneous even then. In fact we were even more on a schedule than ever, but the feel of sex, unencumbered by prophylactics and foams was glorious. Unfortunately, Kris was, as always, an overachiever, and each time managed to get pregnant in a single cycle. And unfortunately, the minute she got pregnant, her sex drive shut down because of bad morning sickness and sensitivity.

  I am not sure I can remember the last time we did anything spontaneous. Even before we had kids, when in theory we could have been wild and carefree, we never were.

  I don't want to make it sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. I love Kris, and I've loved her since middle school. So I'm not complaining. What do I have to complain about? I have a beautiful wife, perfect kids, a cute little house, and a job that pays the bills. It’s the American dream. Right?

  Sometimes I do think about a less structured existence. I like to think that I'm the free spirit in the relationship, although in truth that is only true relatively speaking. Kris is uncommonly organized. I only seem less so by comparison. Neither one of us is really laid back.

  The odd thing is that for all the planning, I am not sure I can remember any of the real decisions in our lives. I don't think I ever formally asked her out. I don't know that there was a particular moment when we coordinated the decision to attend State. I don't even know that I ever proposed to her. All of these things happened, as if according to a script, but with no actual script. Kris and I are so controlled that we somehow hit all our marks without actually planning it.

  I'm not sure from where she gets it. Her family is, to be kind, more than a little weird. Her dad travelled a lot. I rarely really saw him. Her mom was even stranger. I remember coming over one day to find every surface in their kitchen covered in freshly baked cookies. Another time, I came over to find her tearing out the carpet in the living room.

  "Are you remodeling?" I asked Kris' mom.

  "Yeah," she replied, eyes shining. "I just couldn't live with this carpet a moment longer."

  There was often a lot of turmoil in their house, which is why, I guess, Kris was so keen to spend time with my more conventional family. Not that we had all of our shit together. My parents divorced when I was just a little kid. Dad married his secretary and they moved out of town. They had their own kids and I didn't see them much. My sister and I stayed with my mom. She remarried as well, to an older man. Nice guy. He passed away soon after I went to college.

  But at least for my later childhood, my home life was pretty stable, and even though Kris and I were boyfriend/girlfriend, it was almost like my mom adopted her as her own.

  Jessi was always the complicating factor. She idolized her big sister. Kris doted on her as well. It was super hard on Kris when we went away to school.

  _____

  When Jessi had gotten kicked out of her last apartment after the drug bust, she came to us looking to borrow some money. She said she made enough "dancing" to cover her expenses, but need help with first and last month's rent and a security deposit.

  Kris took charge. She told Jessi to move in with us. Told her she could come and go as she pleased, but there were three conditions: no drugs, no stripping, and she had to go back to school and get her GED and some job training. Jessi obviously resented the intervention, but Kris held firm. She told Jessi that her life was a train wreck, that if she didn't change now, she'd end up dead or in jail. And somehow it worked. It started off as an acrimonious conversation, but by the end the girls were crying and hugging and making plans for the future.

  I wanted to believe, but I just had a bad feeling about Jessi. She'd always been manipulative and reckless, and it seemed hard to believe that she was ready to turn over a new leaf. But for the first month, things went well.

  I was concerned about her socializing, but Kris defended her sister.

  "It's hard for her to make these changes. She needs to have an outlet to blow off some steam."

  I shook my head. "I don't know, honey, I think she’s mixed up in a bad crowd."

  Kris grinned. "You sure you're not just jealous?"

  I hesitated. Kris knew I was attracted to Jessi. I wasn't obvious about it, at least I didn't think I was, but there was no denying that my eyes sometimes lingered on her when she was prancing around in another one of her skintight outfits.

  "Don't be silly," I said with a laugh. "I love your sister, but she's insane."

  "Look, being promiscuous is about the least of her sins. If she ends up getting her degree and a respectable job, then I think we can consider our job done, no matter how many men she sleeps with."

  I nodded, but I couldn't help but have my doubts.

  _____

  Kris had taken the kids to her folks for the weekend. Her parents were peculiar enough that we didn’t trust them to watch the kids on their own, so Kris was going to stay as well. I was trying to catch up on mowing Saturday when Jessi bounded into the yard looking for me.

  She was in yoga pants and a jog bra, looking by far more obscene than athletic.

  "Hey Danny Dan, can you do me a huge favor?" she said, batting her eyelashes at me.

  Uh oh, I thought to myself. "Sure, Jess, what's up?"

  She leaned in close, conspiratorially. "Well, it’s just that I, um, have a gig tonight, and I don’t have a driver."

  "Why don't you drive yourself?" I paused. "What kind of gig?"

  "Promise you won't tell Kris?"

  "I can't --"

  She cut me off before I could finish the sentence. "It's a bachelor party."

  I sighed. "Oh God, Jessi, you promised Kris you were done with, um, dancing."

  "I know, I know. I am done. It's just that I agreed to do this one a while back, and, well, I really could use the money. You know, saving for school, that kind of stuff."

  "I can't Jessi. Kris would kill me."

  "She'd probably kill you too if she knew you liked spying on me when I'm with Damon."

  "What... what are you talking about?" I sputtered.

  She laughed. "You're not a ninja, you know. Or what, you just figured I was too lost in the moment to notice you in the doorway rubbing your crotch?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I replied resolutely. Deny deny deny. She had no proof. It was just her word against mine.

  She softened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I would never tell Kris. But it's just I really need help tonight. Otherwise, it's just me, alone, in a roomful of guys."

  "Don't go then."

  "I have to. I promised." She bit her lip, sobbed. "Please Danny, I really need the money if I'm ever going to get back on my feet. You and Kris have been so amazing, but I can't keep depending on you."

  I sighed. "I appreciate that, but you know this is the wrong way. There's no future in this."

  She nodded. A tear now rolling down each cheek. "I promise. This is my last gig. Just help me out this one time and I'll never do it again."

  "Jeez, Jessi..."

  "Pleeease," she begged.

  "Oh fuck it, okay."

  _____

  Why had I agreed to it? Part of it was that I couldn't resist her entreaties. The begging, the tears. Like a lot of men, I find it difficult to deny a damsel in distress. But I'm not stupid either. I knew, well, at least strongly suspected it was an act. But I still went along with it.

  Part of it then was that her blackmail threat still hung in the air. There was no way around it. Kris would kill me if she knew I'd been spying on her sister having sex. I could deny it, but one consequence of being together since we were thirteen is that Kris could read me like an open bo
ok.

  And part of it, I realized, was that I wanted to go. I wanted to see Jessi naked again, stripping for a bunch of guys. And also, I'd never been to a real bachelor party. Yeah, I went out to play pool with a couple of buddies before my wedding, but I'd never been to a party with strippers and that kind of thing. Hell, I'd never even been to a strip club.

  Which of those three was most important? I don't know. And really, it didn't matter.

  _____

  Fuck, Jessi looked hot.

  I was waiting for her in the foyer when she came up from downstairs wearing a trench coat and carrying an oversized purse. It was 10:00 pm and we needed to head out.

  Always a pretty girl, she definitely knew how to bring out her best features. She had her hair brushed out, silky and shiny, her violet highlights subtle and sexy. She had just a little color on her cheeks to bring out the exotic shape of her face, and she accentuated her almond shaped eyes just enough to call attention to the shifting, playful hazel pupils. Only her lips were prominently made up, outlined with a dark red liner and painted up red and glossy.

  As she approached, she pulled open her coat and flashed me her outfit. I gasped out loud. She was wearing a super sexy lingerie outfit, black mesh, thigh-high stockings, a matching lace corselet, tiny thong panties, and four inch “fuck me” heels.

  "How do I look?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

  "Um... great..." I stammered.

  "Does Kris ever dress for you like this?" she teased.

  I shook my head without thinking. Then as my mind cleared, "You're not dressed for me."

  She laughed and pulled her coat closed. "Nope. But you'll still get to see it... and more."

  She strode confidently out the front door. I adjusted my partial erection and followed.

  _____

  The party was in a suite at the Four Seasons. The groom, or his buddies, obviously had some money, which struck me was probably why Jessi was so determined to keep the gig.

  As I walked her through the lobby, it occurred that this was probably one of the reasons she'd approached me to go. Without me there, she'd have likely been identified and stopped as a whore. Even with me there, we got more than our share of funny looks.

  In the room, we met the groom, Vinny, and a half-dozen of his buddies. Vinny was a skinny kid, in his mid-twenties, but with a baby face and dark, almost black hair. The rest of the guys were an assortment of young monieds, a couple of blondish frat boy types, a tall, skinny Euro, an overstuffed fat boy wearing a ten thousand dollar Rolex. The one exception was an older dude, standing apart from the rest, barrel-chested, wearing a dark suit. He looked like some sort of professional muscle.

  All the younger guys were wired, talking fast, bouncing off the furniture. Despite the expensive surroundings, this was a dark, dangerous crowd. Over on the desk, I noticed several lines of cocaine cut and ready to be snorted. I’d only ever seen that in movies. Jessi glanced over hungrily.

  "Go ahead, take a hit," encouraged Vinny.

  She stalked over to the table and snorted two lines. She shook her head and then wheeled around dramatically.

  "Hey boys," Jessi cried enthusiastically as she shed her trench coat.

  The guys hooted and hollered in response. She'd given instructions before we'd arrived. She'd identify the groom and get him seated in a chair; I'd fire up the play list on her phone, pumping it through a portable speaker.

  "Turn it up," she hollered as I got the music going, a pounding hip-hop mix.

  I did and then quickly retreated to a corner of the room. The rest of the bachelor party made a semicircle around Jessi and Vinny.

  She began to sway sensuously, circling Vinny, running her hands up and down her body. She cupped her breasts and suggestively rubbed her thighs. She slid her panties to the side and flashed Vinny, and the rest of us, her shaved snatch.

  Then dramatically she dropped into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ground herself into his lap. His hands were all over her, clawing at her lace-covered tits, squeezing her firm ass. He reached between her legs. Jesus, this was moving faster and further than I had expected, feared... hoped?

  Then suddenly she rose up and slapped Vinny firmly across the face, wagging his finger in her face. His buddies gasped. The big guy in the corner surged forward. I was frozen, rooted to the spot, unsure what I should, or could do, if this turned violent.

  I don’t deal well with violence or the threat of it. It has never been part of my life. I thought back to a recent night out.

  _____

  I'd gotten a sitter. I wasn't sure it would take. Though in theory Kris was open to leaving the kids and going out on our own, we'd never actually managed to pull it off.

  As a surprise for her birthday, I'd gotten us tickets to Book of Mormon. As with everything else, our town is always two to three years behind the times, and it was the hot ticket. Kris hemmed and hawed, but finally agreed to go.

  We went out to dinner at Vesuvius, the best of many Italian places in town, though one of the few that wasn't an old-fashioned checkered tablecloth kind of place. I splurged on Lobster Fra Diavolo. Kris had a scallop risotto. We shared a nice bottle of white.

  The show was a hoot. Just as good as the reviews promised.

  "We should do this more often," Kris said as we walked outside.

  It was an early fall evening. Just a slight chill in the air. We huddled close as we walked to the car.

  There were footsteps behind us. I felt my stomach tighten. I pulled Kris closer.

  "Hey man, can you spare something to help me out?"

  He wasn't real big. Really just a kid, but ratty, obviously a creature of the street. He didn't have a gun, but his hand was in his pocket. Was he armed?

  He looked Kris up and down. She pulled her coat tight around her.

  "Leave us alone," I croaked.

  "Come on man, help me out."

  He had a wild look in his eyes. I had no idea what he was capable of. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my wallet. I handed him a twenty.

  "You can do better," he sneered. Again, he eyed Kris.

  I didn't want to let him hurt her.

  "Okay, okay," I whined, my voice suddenly very tight.

  I emptied my wallet. $107. I handed it over.

  He took it and smirked. Again he looked at Kris. There was no ambiguity about it. He was thinking about taking her as well.

  "Please, leave us alone," I pleaded.

  Another smirk, as if he were giving me a gift. "Okay man. You two have fun."

  He turned and slowly stalked away.

  Kris and I walked to our car in silence. I was mortified. She was sensitive enough not to say anything either. But I could see the disappointment in her eyes, or maybe I was just projecting my own feelings. Whatever.

  _____

  Back in the hotel room, I realized everyone was laughing. It was all a tease. She unbuttoned her corselet, freeing her boobs, pinching her nipples hard. She sat back in his lap, and pulled his face to her chest as he hungrily sucked her erect nubs into his mouth.

  Then again she pulled away. More dirty dancing. She circled behind him, bent at the waist sucking on his earlobes as she shook her ass in my direction. When I tore my eyes away from her behind to her face, she gave me a saucy wink. Even as she stripped for Vinny, she was still making a special effort to tease me.

  She slipped off her heels, and placed her foot in his crotch, toeing his package, nodding toward her stockings until he got the message and rolled it off. She repeated the routine with her other foot. She stepped back into her heels and swayed before him in just her panties and pumps.

  Now, she circled the room, grinding up against each of other guests in turn as they fondled her tits and pinched her ass. She kept her distance from me, but took her time with the bodyguard dude, rubbing him up and down, kissing his neck, trying and failing to elicit more than a slightly amused reaction from him. Finally, she gave up and returned to Vinny.

  Sh
e positioned herself before him, facing away, waving her perfect little ass in his face. She looked back over her shoulder, shook her hair out of her eyes, and gave him a lewd smile. Then she hooked her thumb in her panties and nodded at him until he took the hint and reached out and pulled them down.

  She slipped her panties over her heels and turned to place them on his head. Then with a dramatic leg kick, she placed one heel on the back of his chair, above his shoulder, and tilted forward, giving him close-in view of her pretty, shaved snatch.

  Jessi licked her index finger and then slid it between her labia, splitting her pussy open and giving Vinny a flash of the pink, juicy flesh within. He licked his lips hungrily, his hands caressing her inner thigh. She cupped his cheek with one hand, and then trailed her painted fingertips down his chest, rooting around in his lap, and finally stroking his cock through his pants.

  She then took his other hand in hers and sucked his fingers wetly into her mouth, pumping them past her full, red lips, encircling them with her tongue. When his digits were nice and wet, she pulled his hand down across her own chest, dragging his fingertips over her nipples, and then down between her legs. Vinny eagerly thrust two fingers into her tight little pussy, finger banging her hard, even as she continued to gyrate her hips and stroke his cock.

  Then suddenly the music stopped. I checked my watch. Precisely a half hour had passed. She stood back away from him.

  "You're a bad boy," she chided. "What would your fiancée say?"

  He laughed. She grinned.

  "Okay, I'm gonna freshen up," she said, walking toward the bedroom, shaking her tight ass as she went.

  She looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with me. With a head nod, she beckoned me over. My hands over my lap to hide, barely, my erection, I caught up with her at the doorway.

  "Okay, Danny Dan, here's the deal. One guy at a time. One fifty for oral. Two fifty for half and half or straight sex. Five hundred for anal. Bareback costs twice as much."

 

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