Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016

by Miriam F. Martin

  A little taste, wet and sweet. I nibbled her clit, slow and gentle. A lick here with a rough tongue. Some pressure there with my lips and teeth. Across the opening, around the labia, and pulling it apart like a flower, little by little.

  Until finally…

  I slid my middle finger in. Just the first knuckle. Enough to make her squirm her hips. I pulled back out, but not quite a full retreat, and flicked her clit. Pressing, faster, round and round.

  Katie tossed her head back, lolling side to side, lost in the rhythm. Her breasts jiggled when she bounced on my finger. I responded by shoving more into her pussy.

  Two fingers.

  Faster. Wet, slick sounds with each pump.

  Her moans became desperate. Needy.

  She tried to say something. Mumbles really. Dirty talk. “Fucker” maybe. Or “fuck yes don’t stop fuck fuck fuck…”

  Hard to tell, when she lost control.

  Katie grasped me by the hair and shoved my face to her pussy. So I could worship her better.

  I lapped at her bean, and pumped her with my fingers.

  “I need… need,” she said. “Your cock. Please.”

  My answer was to keep eating her.

  To keep sliding in and out. Fast enough to make my arm sore.

  Katie quivered. She pushed my head away now. Completely lost.

  She rubbed her clit while I finger fucked her hole.

  Warm juice dripped down my forearm.

  Katie leaned against the shower wall, now spent and exhausted. I got back to my feet and kissed her. No tongues this time. Just a gentle lip lock.

  “You’ll get my cock,” I said. “Later. If you’re good.”

  “Oh God.” Katie nestled into my shoulder and I held her close under the shower spray.

  3

  The rain clouds finally parted. Sunshine poured into the parlor window in streams across the baby grand. Turned out to be a nice day after all.

  This was our routine on the weekend. Wake up. Do our own activities. Fuck each other senseless. Then ignore one another until dusk.

  Katie dressed and left with purse in one hand and a list in the other. “Gone shopping,” was all she said.

  I wore a t-shirt, jeans, and sandals. I had a mission while she was gone. By damn, that bottle of wine stood no chance against my persistence. We were sipping Zinfandel tonight.

  The patio was clear. The smells of spring were in the air—tulips and roses in the garden, fresh cut grass next door, new buds on the trees. No wine. Nothing but the outdoor furniture, the sun umbrella, and wet cedar. But on second glance, a glint caught my attention. Between the lounge chairs, on the deck. A fluted glass.

  With pale pink lipstick smeared on it. Katie wore red, unless it was a blue day.

  I picked up the glass, unsure what to think yet. I didn’t know of any friends who wore that shade.

  The doorbell rang. Twice in a row. I nearly dropped the flute. Instead I placed it in the kitchen sink. On the way to the door, I wondered whether to wash off the lipstick smear or not.

  My mind wandered to a situation where Katie accused me of having female company over. But that was absurd. We had talked about swinging, but that was all it was. And our sexual energy was always spent on each other to the point of near exhaustion at the end of Sunday.

  I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to a gorgeous and skimpily dressed woman. She was younger than Katie, no older than thirty. A pair of wedge sandals accentuated her calf and thigh muscles. The hip pockets poked out of the bottom of her cut-off denims. A black tank top clung to her torso. Her hair was blue-black, and fell lazily about her shoulders, which made her green eyes all the more exotic.

  “Hello,” I said. “Can I help you?”

  The woman shrugged, a blush darkening her skin from the cleavage busting out her top, to her neck, up to her cheeks. Her top rose with her shoulders, showing off a slice of her midriff. She promptly pulled her shirt back down tight.

  “Tom?” she said. “Katie’s husband.”

  “That’s what she calls me. You a friend of hers?”

  “Yeah, we work together. Well, used to. I’ve moved to another company.”

  “Want to come in?”

  She nodded quickly, and stepped inside. She smelled like a bottle of lavender lotion, the kind Katie likes so damned much.

  “Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Mandy.” The smile pinched her dimples deep.

  “Something to drink? I have soda, water, maybe wine somewhere.”

  “I’d love a Zinfandel, if you have some.”

  “Might be fresh out.”

  “Shucks!”

  “But I’ll look.”

  “Thank you.”

  I made a show of poking my head into the fridge. I shrugged and raised my hands in mock defeat. “Beer, instead?”

  “Naw. Too early to drink. I’d love some raspberry flavored water, though.”

  “You seem to know my fridge better than me.” I poured her a tall glass of the water, and myself one too.

  “I’ve been over before,” Mandy said. We clinked glasses in toast. “Thanks.”

  “What’d you say your name was?”

  She repeated it for me. I nodded sagely, as if trying to burn the name into my memory. She seemed familiar now, not that I’d met her, more like Katie had mentioned her once or twice.

  Mandy stared at me as she drank, eyes narrow, cute smile dancing across her face, a little secret caught up in her eyebrows. She was cute, and almost naked if not for the skimpy clothes.

  For some dumb reason, my cock decided it liked Mandy a bit too much. I pressed my pelvis into the kitchen island to keep it from being too obvious.

  In a flash, my mind wandered to the fantasy of having two woman in my kitchen, within a twenty-four hour span.

  Then I banished the thought.

  My dick hurt with the awkward angle I had jabbed it into against the island.

  “Not sure when the woman will be back,” I said.

  “Huh? Oh!” Mandy laughed like a hyena, too high-pitched. Might’ve been annoying if I weren’t undressing her with my mind. “It’s fine. I can come back later.”

  “You’re no bother.”

  Mandy set her glass down. Her eyes turned a shade serious. “No. I think I’ll come back around later. I’ll give Katie a ring this afternoon.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I tried to make my smile winsome. Not sure if my disappointment helped.

  I walked Mandy to the door. At the last moment, she turned. A little too close to me, one boob pressed against my forearm. The blush in her cheeks returned, rosier, and migrated to her forehead.

  “I hope to see you again,” she said.

  “You’re welcome her anytime,” I said. “Come back soon.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I will.”

  I opened the door for her, and Mandy left. She strutted down the driveway, to a shiny red car, not even turning around to wave goodbye.

  My cock made a tentpole for the whole neighborhood to see.

  4

  I tried to watch TV, but it was too hard. Literally.

  Channel surfing only brought up shows that bored me, so my brain wandered from infomercials and badly scripted soap operas to… sex scenes between my wife and Mandy.

  “Perv,” I said out loud. Did no good. My cock plugged its ears with cotton swabs, and if I stayed around the house for ten more minutes, there was going to be cum flushed down the toilet.

  Katie would be disappointed.

  So I turned off the tube and grabbed the keys. The first bottle of wine was lost to the great beyond, apparently where alcohol went to die, undrunk and lonely. I hope they have good beer on tap there.

  The only option now was to just buy a new wine.

  I drove to the liquor store, focusing on traffic and thinking about pink elephants the entire time so Mandy had no chance of making me hard.

  The Third Street Liquors was on Michigan Avenue, for reasons Be
nny never fully explained to me. It was located conveniently next to an insurance man, and beneath a real estate office.

  Inside always smelled like a tin can sprayed with lemon scented air freshener. Benny, a white haired man with a serpent tattoo crawling up one arm, stood guard at the cash register.

  “Here to claim the Doll?” he crooned, a wizened crooked smile twisting unnaturally.

  “You done with her?” I said.

  “Pretty girls like that don’t give me the time of day. Unless I blindfold ‘em first.”

  “Now I know what to look forward to.”

  Benny pointed towards the wine section, nodding and chuckling.

  I found Katie, slowly walking down the aisle, a finger on a Zinfandel. I hated watching her shop. Always the same brand, but she had to find the one bottle.

  “Hey, Doll.” I grabbed her from behind by both elbows.

  Katie jumped, jabbing me in the ribs.

  “Careful, mister,” she said. “Good thing I know what you smell like.”

  “Otherwise?”

  “You’d get a major ass kicking.”

  “I’d deserve it too.”

  “Yeah, for sure.” She walked away from me, pretending to look at other wines. “So? What brings you here, stranger?”

  “Thought I’d pick up a Merlot.”

  “Good God, why? You know how reds don’t agree with me.”

  “All too well. Which means more for me.”

  “Then buy a Zinfandel while you’re at it.”

  “You used to like Chardonnays. How about we shake things up.”

  “I don’t want to shake. Just buy what I want.”

  “We could go all out and get champagne.”

  “Hmm. I’d like that. But good idea to have zinfandel on hand too.”

  “What if I only brought cash enough for one bottle?”

  “You have a credit card, don’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What the hell does that mean? Have you been drinking already?”

  “Want to smell my breath?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shucks. So one merlot. One champagne. One… what did you want?”

  I think Katie’s eye roll displaced a tidal wave somewhere.

  Hiding my goofy grin best I could, I picked up a zinfandel and a merlot, even though I didn’t really want the latter.

  “Funny thing,” I said. “Seems like I bought wine yesterday. Wonder what became of that one?”

  Katie pressed her lips tight in a straight line, her cheeks flushing rosy. “Haven’t the foggiest.”

  “Maybe I’m just losing my mind,” I said.

  “Must be the problem.”

  I stared at her long and hard (definitely hard, Katie tells me long too). Her tight lips relaxed, showing a hint of white teeth, pink gums, the flush turning joyful. She laughed.

  Katie pressed a hand against my chest. “Be a good boy,” she said. “Put those wines in the fridge and I’ll bring home a surprise.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.” Her hand slid down lower, to the belt line.

  “What is it?” I whispered.

  “You’ll like… it,” she said. “I hope.”

  “I like everything you do,” I said. “Except for vacuuming. That’s kind of annoying.”

  Katie slapped me on the chest.

  I winked, kissed her goodbye, and smacked her on the ass before pulling away. I mouthed the words “I love you”, watched her do the same, and I walked away.

  A million ideas sprang to mind about her secret surprise. One idea in particular excited me the most, but I knew I shouldn’t hope for it.

  Mandy.

  5

  I meant to take a nap that afternoon. Didn’t happen. Instead, I watched TV, checked email, read the sports page, and played solitaire too many times to count.

  Finally, at six in the evening, Katie pulled into the garage and honked the horn. When I met her, she kicked the back door closed with her foot, planted a kiss on my lips and shoved two bulky grocery bags into my arms.

  “Hmm, groceries,” I said. “What a wonderful surprise.”

  She lightly smacked me on the cheek. “Put those away. The surprise is still in the car.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  We turned away from each other, I headed to the kitchen, she to the garage. I managed a sneak peak over my shoulder, but all I could see before she slammed the door shut again was the hood of the car and Katie’s self-assured Cheshire grin.

  I set the bags down on the counter, much to the relief of my shoulder muscles. I took a look inside. Spaghetti, tomato sauce, eggs, fresh fruit. Some of the makings for dinner and breakfast. We weren’t going out anytime soon.

  I sped-walked back to the door and got there in time to see Katie with one hand extended out for the knob.

  “Get the rest,” she said, a full grin this time.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I stepped out to the garage. Somebody sat in the passenger seat of Katie’s car. Somebody with blue-black hair and a cute face. I opened the car door. She held a bottle of zinfandel in her lap.

  “Mandy?” I hoped my voice didn’t sound too hopeful. Too pleading.

  “Tom,” she said. “I was about to run away if you took much longer.”

  “I like to be timely.” I extended a hand to help her out of the car. “One of my better qualities.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Mandy’s palm was warm to the touch, sweaty, and smooth like a piece of silk. I liked her touch already.

  “What else have you heard?”

  “Much.”

  “Like wine? To drink?”

  “Much,” she repeated. “I… uh, drank your bottle last night. Me and Katie.”

  “Figures. Now we’ll all have to drink even more.”

  “I could use a drink.”

  “Me too, I think.”

  I picked up the rest of the groceries from the backseat, and led Mandy into the house. She smelled wonderful, like a girl-scented breeze that found its way into my home. Her hips swayed with each step, back straight, lean calf muscles stretching and knotting, the wedge sandals clip-clopping on the hardwood floor. Mandy glanced here and there, as if seeing the room for the first time. Probably wasn’t, if she had secretly been here last night.

  In the kitchen, Katie already had the perishables put away and three wine glasses set out on the island. I poured.

  “So,” I said. “How long have you ladies been planning this?”

  “Too long,” said Katie. “I could barely keep quiet anymore.”

  “We had something of a wager,” said Mandy. “I lost.”

  “Oh?” I said.

  “She didn’t think I could run a mile every morning for a month,” said Katie.

  “Sounds like a real supportive friend.”

  “It’s not like that,” said Mandy, hiding behind her glass, one hand reached out as if to slap me. She held back, uncertainty in her eyes.

  “What was the nature of this wager?”

  “Since I’d broken up with my fiancee, we’d talked a lot. About things. Girl chat. And…”

  “And one night,” said Katie, “she was too intoxicated for her own good. But at least I got her to write it down.”

  Mandy blushed a deep shade of crimson as she poked around in her handbag, finally pulling out a piece of folded up loose leaf paper. She handed it to me, as if passing a dirty note during school.

  Pink penned handwriting scrawled across the paper:

  I, Mandy, do hereby declare that if my bestest friend, Kaite, can run one (1) mile every morning for one (1) month, I will suck off her husband until she is satisfied. XOXO Mandy. P.S. I will do much more than suck him off.

  The first question that came to mind was: Were you rooting for Katie to win? But I closed my mouth before I could say that. Instead I took a sip of wine.

  Every man’s dream, come true for me right here in my home. Two women in bed
. This had never happened to me. Sure, Katie and I talked about swinging, but I kept no illusions. I very much wanted to fuck both my wife and her best friend, tonight, because such an opportunity doesn’t happen more than once. By the cheery, wide-eyed, goofy grinned look Katie was giving; I had my wife’s blessing.

  “Do you approve?” she said.

  “Yes. Very much.” I pulled Katie into my arms and kissed her. A light touching of lips, meeting of tongues, and I pushed her away.

  Mandy glanced away, wine glass in hand as if she were a bored patron at a boring art gallery party, blush coloring her tanned skin.

  I took her hand. “You’re welcome to bow out of this. We won’t tell anyone. And we won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “But I’ve come this far.”

  “You sure.”

  Mandy nodded, her hair bobbing with the motion. “I’ve been thinking about you since Katie first showed me your photo.”

  I pulled her closer. “I hope it was a face shot. Maybe the one with the brown shirt?”

  My wife slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  Mandy took a step forward, eyes roving up and down my body. I clenched her around the waist and drew her in the rest of the way. She kissed me. Tentatively, at first, a fast exploration to see what would happen.

  I gave her a slip of my tongue. It’d been so long since I’d done this with another woman, other than Katie. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Mandy wrapped her arms over my shoulders, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I liked where this was going. We locked tongues. I pushed her hard against me, pressing her onto my manhood.

  Mandy tilted her head back and giggled. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

  “Last chance to say no.” I was surprised at how husky—how growly—my voice was.

  She took a sip of wine and set the glass aside. Katie had her backside leaned against the kitchen sink, staring at us, mischievous grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “One word,” said Mandy, leaning close again, her breasts squashed into my torso. “Yes. Just yes.”

  I grabbed her by the elbows and turned her around, pushing her into the island. A wild expression came over her face, eyes wide, mouth parted enough to see white teeth, nostrils flared. We brushed lips.