Detour Paris: Complete Series (Detour Paris Series Book 4)

by Dancer, Jack

  "Maybe I can help you out here,” I say.

  "You can. Just stay as you are. Don't move a muscle."

  She rolls over on top of me laying one leg between my two and pulls my face into her breasts.

  "Lift your leg,” she whispers, and when I do her thighs clamp around my one leg like an extra-large pair of vice grips, and she goes into a slow, determined grinding, unaware she’s also pulled my face smotheringly into her breasts, and that’s not a complaint mind you. I imagine myself as her favorite Teddy bear when she was growing up, the way she’s so totally focused on mining for the pleasure buried within her and bringing it to the surface. Her pelt is a dermabrasion, but the more she goes, the more nectar she emits, until she's sliding across me like a hot-oil massage.

  I can hear faint moans riding the backs of small tremors that, with determination swell into larger quakes until her entire body, is overtaken as if by an invisible invading army, and eventually seizing in the grip of an orgasm I can only imagine to be grand mal in class. Incredibly, I can feel it passing right through me.

  And not being caught up in my own, it was a unique chance for me to focus on hers; to feel the spark strike, then spread across her like a wildfire, blazing away and taking everything with it. What a turn on. Really. Female orgasmic transference. A near body swapping.

  She needed to finish off what she hadn't in her dream, whatever that was, and I’m not sure it entailed penetration. I imagined her using me like she might use another woman to grind out her unfinished business. But then that's just man-think, right?

  "Thanks, I needed that,” she says splaying herself, limp as a dishrag, over me.

  “Feel free to take me whenever you have the urge," I whisper into her ear, "Use me as you will. I will happily be your sexual object, your plaything. Nothing would please me more. I'm a man. I'm not above any of that."

  “It never crossed my mind you would be.”

  “So,” I say, "Getting back to the rêve humide (wet dream) you were in the throes of before the untimely extrication. You've experienced those before I take it?”

  “Sure, but hardly like that one. Not one to wake me completely out of a deep sleep . . . at least I can't recall, and I think I'd remember something that glorious. What about you?” she asks rolling off.

  I uncover my belly. "Feel a little sticky?" She touches me.

  “Yeah, so you too? Gee, what a waste,” she says.

  “I wouldn't say that. Was it good for you?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “It was good for me too.”

  “Maybe it's an omen.”

  “An omen?” I ask.

  “Yeah, if we can both share the same wet dream, you know, maybe we're meant for each other,” she says.

  “Could be,” I agree, not about to diminish any future opportunities.

  “Could be last night's concoction too,” she says.

  “You mean the shots?”

  “Yeah. What was that anyhow?”

  “Damned if I know but it sure put some lead in my pencil. And the reloads were nearly instant. Never had that before.”

  “You were an animal.”

  “Did I really do all the things I think I did?”

  “Yep, you did. You were Superman, Tucker, man of steel.”

  “Blue steel.”

  “You're not kidding. How'd you do that?”

  “Had to have been the magic elixir. What did it do for you?”

  “Made me seriously want to reconsider a donkey deed."

  “Really?”

  “No baby. You're donkey enough for me.” And I start hee-hawing and snorting my face into her belly, nuzzling and tickling her for a few relentless moments until she cries uncle. I come up licking.

  "And yum, I remember being down there last night. I think it was the second course of the night, yes, the California roll, and wasabi. That was it. Delicious. You were fabulous. I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes."

  “And tongue, and lips and mouth and hands and about every other part of you, if I remember.”

  “Yeah, there was all that too. But, honey that's what you were for, Nyotaimori - tasting, devouring.”

  “And you did too.”

  “You bet I did, and I wasn't the only one.”

  “No, you weren't. But, you know it was all for you. You do know that don't you, Tucker?”

  “I do. You said that from the beginning. And I appreciate it, really I do. It was by far the most incredible gift I've ever received.”

  “The most edible gift you've ever received,” she giggles.

  “That's for sure.”

  “Let me ask you this, and seriously, Tucker, have your feelings for me changed since last night?”

  I ponder the question for a moment. "Absolutely!”

  Disappointment washes over her. "How absolutely? Good absolutely or bad absolutely? Do you think less of me now?”

  “Are you kidding? I think more. I think you're the most exciting woman I've ever met . . . and in every way. I wouldn't have guessed in a million years you'd have done what you did, but then I'd have never guessed in a million years I would've either.” I ponder this a moment. "Come to think of it, just exactly, what did I do?”

  “Everybody, Tucker. You did everybody.”

  “I did, didn't I?”

  “Yep, but you weren't the only one; everybody did everybody. Don't you remember?”

  “Yeah, guess I do. It was all such a crazy blur. Body parts everywhere. It was hard keeping track of it all.”

  “Just goes to show you people aren't always what they seem.”

  “Yeah, and people aren't always what they think they are either."

  “It's all in the circumstances. People behave according to the circumstances they're in. Change the circumstances and you change behavior. Who knows what they're going to do until they're in a situation? It's the circumstances don't you agree? I mean people adjust. Last night was a perfect example. The circumstances were designed specifically to elicit certain behaviors, and it worked. I didn't just roll out on a table covered in food not expecting everyone to eat.”

  “Did you expect you'd be eaten too, in the other sense I mean?”

  “I was naked wasn't I?”

  “You certainly were that.”

  “I was dinner.”

  “You were uber-gourmet honey. Nyotaimori glory.

  “When Nanette told me you'd be there for dinner I didn't know she meant you'd BE dinner. And when you were wheeled out on the table covered with all the delicious delights; that just blew me away. No way would I have anticipated that. Was it your idea or hers?”

  “Mine. I wanted to surprise you. Everything else was meant to be impromptu; you know, play it out; however, it would. Whatever happens happens. When I brought the idea up with Nanette, she was stunned. I guess she didn't expect something like that from me. She liked it though and the more we threw out ideas, crazy ideas; it just sort of took on a life of its own, and we went with it. We had a pretty good idea you'd like it. We figured you'd play out the stereotypical male.”

  “Stereotypical?”

  “Yeah, you know, man fantasies. I wanted to make your man fantasies come true, Tucker. Like I said to you last night, it was my gift to you."

  “Didn't you have even the slightest pang of jealousy watching me with another woman?”

  “Did you have even the slightest pang of guilt watching me watch you with another woman?”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “But, it didn't stop you.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I'm shallow and selfish and wanted not to be in love with you, and it was a way for me to distance myself from loving you. When you gave me the green light I went with it. Now tell me how you really felt about it,” I ask.

  “Jealous, furious, turned on, conflicted. All those things.”

  “And how did it finally turn out for you?” I ask.

  “Same as you,”
she says.

  “How do you mean, same as me?”

  “Well, not exactly the same, you had an orgasm. I had many,” she says gloating.

  “I had more than one,” I protest.

  “Did they come on rat-a-tat-tat-tat, like a machine gun, one after the other?"

  “Okay, I get it. There is no justice, no equality. So, how do you think Nanette did?”

  “How do you mean? She did Nanette; she did what she wanted. You didn't notice she was in charge?"

  “But, did she . . . you know . . .”

  “Have an orgasm you mean?” she says anticipating my question.

  “Yeah.”

  “Nanette doesn't do orgasms, Tucker. She's a dominatrix. She'd rather order you to have one.”

  “Orders weren't necessary last night. Boy that outfit she had on was really something wasn't it? I mean a wedding dress then stripping down to a corset and fish nets. And all pale white too, her hair, eyebrows, and lashes, even her lipstick and nail polish. I didn't recognize her at first. I've never seen anyone all whited out like that. She looked positively albino."

  “She did. As for the dress though, you noticed she didn't strip herself; she ordered Pau to undress her. Which come to think of it, is rather odd isn't it?”

  “Why's that odd?”

  “Because I've always thought, a dominatrix didn't allow the submissive to touch them. I thought it was all about control, tease and torture,” she says.

  “Then, Nanette must not be the run-of-the-mill dominatrix, because I touched her a good one when she started on me with the cat 'o nine tails.”

  “I couldn't believe it when you hit her. I thought for sure she'd pull a knife and cut your throat, and instead she orders you to fuck her. Unbelievable. Just goes to show people really aren't what you might assume. I mean Christ! If you can't even count on a dominatrix to be a dominatrix, what can you count on?”

  "Say, Tucker, is what happened last night going to affect our relationship? I mean, are you going to think the less of me now? Because last night's little soiree isn't something, I'd expect to have as a regular occurrence in our relationship, you know."

  "But, we just had it."

  "I know, but it was just a one-time thing - a little something I wanted to give to you, just this once. I think I'm too possessive to accept your screwing other women. I know I am. How do you see it?"

  "I think there's an underlying danger fooling around with this kind of stuff, more so with married couples or very committed couples because of the after effect on a serious relationship. Typical example: Guy drops hints to his wife he'd like to try ménage à trois. Even if the wife's curiosity is piqued, and one day she arranges it as a surprise, and even if things go well, the relationship will be permanently scarred. It'll never be the same. It'll deteriorate.

  "I wouldn't risk my perfectly happy marriage by bringing someone else into it just to make some fantasy come true. I think it's best left a fantasy. If you're single and not committed, then go for it. The world's your oyster. But, if you're happily married and want to remain happily married, then the only oyster should be the one sliding down your throat from your spouse."

  “Very graphic analogy, Tucker.”

  “I know. It's turning me on too.”

  forty-two

  Still Morning, Saturday, 6 September.

  The Hotel Arts.

  "Has anyone heard from Ebba and Terry?” I ask Monica.

  “No. Nanette and I talked about that yesterday. I told her you and I had even tried to make a police report but it was a fruitless effort. We decided we should all have a meeting with Pat and tell him to do something, call the company. Technically, he's the boss on this trip, so it's up to him to do something. He's going to have to call for two replacements anyway if they don't show up soon. The plane's gotta have a minimum number of crew to fly and with two flight attendants short, it can't, and we're scheduled to fly out next Saturday.”

  “I got a ransom note yesterday, well, a ransom email,” I say.

  “What! Why didn't you say something?”

  “I found it in my email yesterday morning, early, before I left for Perpignan. I'd have told you about it but you weren't there and I didn't want to call and wake you and Lloyd."

  "Okay, Tucker. You've made your point. I guess I deserve that, but can we please just forget that whole episode? It's over, done, kaput. There is no Lloyd anymore, okay? There's just you and me."

  "Okay, but we have to get through a few things first."

  "You mean this thing with Doctor Libica?"

  "Yes. We still have no idea what that's all about. All we know is, it's about something, and it's probably something not very good. I think the first order of things for us to do at the moment is to get past all this and get ourselves in a safe position. Then, we can see where we want to take our relationship. If I could just say the devil be damned and go with my feelings for you right this minute, I'd snatch you away tonight, buy a boat and leave this place. But, it's not that simple. We do have an obligation to try to save our friends, do whatever we can to help them if for no other reason than it's what we'd expect of them if the tables were turned. It's what friends do. They don't just walk away when things go wrong."

  "What about the ransom note? What're you going to do about that?"

  "I don't know yet. I really haven't had much time to think about it, honestly. When I got it, I thought it was bogus, like a joke or something, plus I needed to get to Perpignan, so I figured I'd deal with it when I got back."

  Monica's cell phone rings and she picks up. I head to the bathroom to clean up.

  “That was Nanette,” she says.

  “I figured it might be. So, how's the bride the morning after?”

  “Said she woke up feeling like she'd been mugged, and gang raped. Said her jaw is so swollen she looks like an American baseball player. But, on the upside, she said you scrambled her brains enough she's now rethinking the whole dominatrix thing and wants to know if you have any openings for a submissive. I told her the position was filled.”

  “She's not going to sue me is she?” I joke.

  “Don't be silly, she'd probably pay you to beat her up again.”

  “You think she was serious about all that being on the Internet?"

  “She was kidding, Tucker.”

  “Thank God. Still, I feel terrible I hit her.”

  “You can tell her in person because we're meeting with her later, on this whole business with Ebba and Terry.”

  “What?”

  “And Pat and James and Lisa and Randy.”

  “No, you didn't agree to meet with them too, did you? Why on earth would you?”

  “Because we've got to do something, Tucker. You said it yourself. It's been . . . now going on four days they've been missing. We can't ignore it, and they're all getting very antsy about the situation. They know something's happened, and they're going to do something about it with or without us. And if they do and then they find out about the ransom note; we're cooked. Don't you see? They'll turn against us. We need to head this off now before they run to the police and tell them we had something to do with it.”

  “Did you tell Nanette about the ransom note?”

  “Yes. I said I hadn't seen it yet but told her what you said - about it looking bogus and all. That's another reason she thinks we need to bring the others in on this.”

  “What does she expect to accomplish at this meeting?”

  “To figure out what we should do next, come to some agreement, so we're not all flying off in different directions.”

  “You think they're willing to pony up the ransom?”

  “How much is it?”

  “Two million.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “One million each.”

  “Nobody's got that kind of money.”

  “Why do you think the ransom demand came to me?”

  “Oh, Tucker. Nobody's gonna expect . . .”

  “Wanna bet? Captain Pat
will. He'll be glad to remind me Ebba's my girlfriend; you watch. I don't know about James and Lisa.”

  “But Terry? They wouldn't expect you to pay for Terry too.”

  “That's where you come in. You're her friend, and you've got money because you've got Al."

  She looks at me, cornered.

  "He's not real."

  “What?"

  "He's not real."

  "Then why would you tell me he was?”

  “Because I didn't know you then, and if men think, I'm married it keeps them at bay, at least some men. Then I can decide how I want it to go.”

  “That's what I love about women. You can get laid anytime you want, no problem. But, we guys. We've gotta work for it.”

  “That's why men are dogs. You gotta hunt.”

  "But, you said you were divorcing? Why'd you say that?"

  "Because you said in New York you wouldn't fool around with a married woman, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah."

  So she was after me from the start. Interesting. I would have never guessed that. And here I thought I was the one doing all the work to catch her when it was she who was just sitting back and LETTING me do all the work, PLAYING ME ALL ALONG. God, these women are smart . . . conniving creatures. We don't have a chance against 'em.

  “Tucker. Do you really love me?”

  “I didn't tell you?”

  “No.”

  “You couldn't tell?”

  “Well, it was a little difficult last night . . .”

  “Last night wasn't love. That was lust. There's a difference, and you know it because you played it. That was all your doing.”

  “I know; I know. I just wanted to make you happy."

  “You wanted to get off watching me get off with another woman, two women.”

  “Okay, you got me,” I say, “But, it doesn't change things. I'm still in love with you.”

  “But then there was what came afterwards.”

  “That was just my warrior taking his due,” she says.

  “Holy shit, Monica. You really are something.”

  “Screwy huh?”

  “Crazier than a bag of cats.”

  “That's my man, pussy on the brain,” she laughs.