by KT Morrison
He stepped across the bedroom, got himself in the doorway and nudged it open. She smiled big and bright in the mirror for him, innocent and happy. Then she looked down and she saw what he was showing her. His erection going sideways under his jeans. She laughed and shook her head at her dirty husband. She shut the dryer off.
“Geoff, I have to get ready, baby,” she laughed.
“I’m just showing you—I’m still on. For whatever goes down tonight.”
“I know, Geoff. All my friends are there though, sweetheart.”
“Whatever you want, Nia, okay?”
“I’ll touch it for you, okay? How’s that?”
“Yeah? Touch his dick?”
“I will. I swear I will. I’ll tell you all about it,” she said and she came to him and put her arms up on his shoulders.
He said, “Anything that happens, you have to tell me.”
“I know the rules, Geoff.”
“Okay.”
“A stripper isn’t as exciting as you might think, I keep telling you that.”
“I know.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing his body, his muscles and, yeah, I am looking forward to seeing what his equipment is going to look like. I’m not shy. But it just doesn’t make me want to...you know...”
“I know,” he said, then, “Squeeze it,” looking down at his bulge.
She snorted through her nose, laughing at him. Her hand came down and she squeezed his cock through his jeans. “I’ll be home tomorrow. I’ll tell you how it went.”
“Don’t lie. Make up some story to turn me on.”
“You don’t like that?”
“I do. But this is more serious this time. I want the truth. I really want the truth.”
“You got it, Geoff,” her hand cupped his balls and gave them a good pressing. “Now, shouldn’t you be with O? She was talking all breakfast about drawing with you today.”
“Yeah, yeah, I nipped up to have a private talk.”
She ran her fingers up and down his denim shaft said, “Feels like you came for more than a talk.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, lusty, thinking he might get lucky before she left.
“Daa-aad!”
“Shit,” he said, Odie at the bottom of the stairs.
“Da-aad! I need the copic markers—where are they?”
“Man, great timing on that girl,” he said. Then yelled to the side, “The red mechanic’s chest, Odie!”
There was a pause, and Nia smiled, waiting. Then, “The colour ones, Dad!”
Geoff groaned and she gave him a pat on his hard cock, whispered, “We’ll get down to business tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said, and he kissed her neck. Then he whispered, “You can do no wrong, Nia, okay?”
“Yes, Geoff. I know.” She kissed his lips and held them, breathed him in and he felt the gentle weight of her arms on his shoulders as she leaned into him. Then she was away and she was looking in the mirror again, and he’d give anything to rip that towel off and kiss every bare bit of her and spend the day in bed.
He said, “Come through the studio when you leave.”
GEOFF
Odele had dedicated her entire day working next to her dad on her very own children’s book. Geoff was done with the Choo, all the drawings off to Jenny, one correction back, fixed and resent. Now they’d wanted him to prepare some new drawings and repurpose others to make promotional pieces. So, more trains for crying out loud. He mostly worked up old sketches that he’d abandoned. But Odele blew him away. Seven years old and she drew ten drawings, pastiches, pieces that told a big story about a princess and a prince who was supposed to protect her but he built a moat to keep an ogre out and then he found out the ogre could swim. A moral to the story? Maybe. You could find one if pressed. Was the princess Nia? The ogre Rocco? Geoff the moat-building prince? Inadequate prince. Odie never met Rocco but she’d heard plenty. Was this a leak from her subconscious? Or was it just her being a kid and him being a dumb introverted paranoid boy who liked to find meaning in every damn thing?
Whatever her muse, her work was stunning. Copic swirls in perfect colour combinations and drawings of ogre shapes and a pretty princess that shouldn’t come from the hand of a seven year old girl. They were abstract and emotional. She didn’t carry a perfect line yet but her hand formed shapes with meaning, travelling from her heart and her little brain down to her finger tips. He got her to scan them and just before dinner time she was arranging them on the computer and he was helping her write the story. She was amazing. He’d abandoned his own work, he’d get to it tomorrow morning when Nia was coming home, she’d probably want to sleep off her night of bachelorette debauchery and wouldn’t be available to see her sweet husband until the afternoon. So right now he was helping his daughter—showing her how to follow through, follow her heart and finish a project. They’d worked through lunch without eating, just a coffee around three and a hot chocolate for Odie. As they wrote the last words down on paper they both were dying for dinner. He offered to take her to the bakery for some eggs for dinner and his little girl gladly accepted.
He checked his phone one more time. Still nothing. He’d kept a little mental itinerary during the day. Nia should be eating at Scarpa’s now, Nia should be getting a back rub now. Right now, she should be in the middle of her pub crawl. He could picture that gaggle of pretty girls and their aunts and relatives all stumbling along out of their Sprinter, turning heads, being loud, adorned with all sorts of cute penis shaped objects. It made him smile.
He really wanted her to do it. He wanted her to get passionate with some stud. Get railed by some meathead with a big hard cock. He wanted her to feel good and horny and sexy and he wanted her to get sweaty then drop it all, clean herself up and come home to him. He’d rub her feet and she would tell him how it was. What she liked, what she didn’t like. Tell him all the dirty details like he was her close girlfriend. But then he’d take her to bed afterwards and he’d make love to her. Slow and passionate and feel every bit of his strong sexy wife.
And while he walked with Odie down to the bakery with a nervous but excited swirling orb in his belly lightly grazing his sex organs while it spun he had a funny thought. It was such a wonderful wholesome day spent with his baby girl and he held her hand and walked the sunset city, low orange light throwing blue shadows across Roncesvalles. Headlights twinkled and the city felt cool and spring fresh, laughter from the cafes and bright happy Saturday night faces passed on the sidewalk smiling at this dad and his beautiful little daughter.
He felt dirty.
This little innocent lady gripping his fingers while she skipped with him: Would she ever marry a man who wanted her to have sex with other men? He wouldn’t want that, which was weird, because he was fully accepting of his own strange kink. But he felt sad looking in Odele’s eyes and thinking she’d end up with a man like that. Like, he wasn’t enough for her and wasn’t it sad that she would have to go outside to get satisfaction. He hated the thought of her not being protected by her man, being out in the cold and looking for cheap thrills from strangers. It was a dangerous world out there and you couldn’t trust other men. He suddenly felt like this was all a big mistake. He suddenly saw all the wrong in it. All the things he’d expect others to see. But he’d always thought that, ah, they just don’t get it. Maybe they did though. When he thought of Odie and what he’d want for her future this wasn’t it.
NIA
They’d started the day with a lunch at Scarpa’s. Mussels, steak, octopus, squab, and lots and lots of red wine. The lunch had been one of the best she’d ever had. Best mussels she’d ever had for sure, cooked in garlic and lemongrass. By the time they’d left the restaurant she’d had a real glow from the wine and everyone was in great and loud spirit as they got on a Sprinter and headed to the day spa.
Once they were in the limo they adorned Donna with a crown that Lisa Nosotti had made with flower bunches twisted through a ring of woven plastic branches. Minia
ture penises hung from the crown and dangled around her shoulders, swinging while she laughed. They were made from wine gum and occasionally one would be plucked and eaten to great laughter and whooping. Lisa had a Ziploc baggy in her purse ready with replacements.
Then they all spent over two hours at Donna’s cousin’s day spa. They got massages, had their nails done and foot soaks. Nia had the dry rub before her massage and it was incredible. A stiff brush scored all over her bare body, exfoliating and flushing metabolic waste out. It made her scalp tingle and her nipples got so hard they hurt, pressed up against the terry towel she was laying face down on. Then they rubbed her down with coconut oil and ylang ylang and by the time she’d stumbled to the pedicure chair she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Then they scrubbed their heels and feet and wrapped them in hot towels while laying back with a cooling mask. She fell asleep. They woke her up to rub her feet with lotion. Most of the girls were just as bad off. All of them with a huge lunch in their stomachs, soaked with way too much wine. It felt amazing but the energy was starting to ebb from the party. Then espressos were served, and Nia had two with lemon while they finished her feet off with a french tip pedicure. Things were picking up again as they got back on the Sprinter and headed to the first of the bars for an early still-light start to their pub crawl.
That’s when things got weird. And sitting now at Giuseppe’s she couldn’t remember where the second or third bar were. She could picture what they looked like inside, snippets of conversation echoing through her as she sat weaving at the dinner table. A lot of talk about Geoff, she remembered that. Donna had seen him on Breakfast Television and there was a unanimous cooing at how cute he was. All the girls that had kids had one of Geoff’s books and they all gushed politely for her. But she remembered Angie’s aunt Stella had fallen coming in the vestibule for one of the bars. She’d cut her knee and she had cried too. Nia could remember a lot of blood and how sad it looked to see a heavyset grown woman in such a state. But Stella was fine, sitting at another table right now and clapping while the music pounded and Donna opened her gifts still wearing her penis crown. She remembered a fight between Lisa and Angie’s cousin Gracie. Didn’t recall what it was about but that she had seen them right in each other’s faces with Angie plucking her finger into Gracie’s bared cleavage.
All seemed forgotten now, injuries and fights. Donna was wearing a T-shirt over her dress that said Feyoncé on it in gold glitter, a gift from Lisa she thought. She was pulling items out of a gift bag with lingerie stuck to it as part of its design. There were penis shaped suckers with clever sayings like, Booty Banger and Super Phallactic, there was a candy garter belt and candy handcuffs. From the bottom she pulled out two inflatable cocks that you wore in a harness on your hips to duel with and Gracie and Angie started blowing those up right away, struggling to do it because they were laughing so hard. Someone passed her a stiff board and a lipstick. The pale white board bore the imprint of lips pressed on it in a kiss. The lipstick had been shaped like a penis but the glans had been worn down so that only the shaft remained. Other girls had pressed their lips in different colours and she didn’t want to touch her lips with the used lipstick so she refreshed with the one she’d brought in her purse. She took a pen and signed her plump lip kiss with her name like the others had done. It was supposed to be framed and kept as a memorable keepsake. She passed it left to waiting hands and watched a moment as two girls strapped the huge blown up cocks to their hips and proceeded to the dance floor and bashed them against each other stumbling around in their high heels.
Suddenly, behind them, there was a cop there. Her heart surged, knowing it was the stripper. The girls laughed as he put his arms around their shoulders and they tried whacking him with their inflatable cocks. He took their hands and put them on each others oversized phalluses and helped them stroke each other, making dirty snarling faces and bursting out laughing. He danced with them and he put their hands on his body, on his hips as he gyrated them and they each gave his bulge a good squeeze. Then he had them sit down, their big dicks sticking straight up between their legs. He moved into the centre of the gathered women and he danced. He was wearing a police uniform, very tight, short-sleeved, showing off his pumped up and tanned arms. He had black hair and soft pouting lips and a very nice jawline. He looked young. You couldn’t see his eyes because they were behind aviator sunglasses. He was a great dancer, strong and fast, very fit and capable. His hips were narrow and he had a great round butt. His police slacks had quite a pronounced bulge and she watched it bounce behind the fabric. Other girls reached out and squeezed at him and grabbed his thighs and his ass.
She texted Geoff.
GEOFF
Geoff and Odele didn’t quite finish her book but they got very close. It was eight at night and little Odie was driven to get it done but they were creatively extinguished, all the work left to be done was piecing it together in inDesign so that they could have it as a finished product.
Geoff was going to surprise her and get it done. He’d brought her up to bed and told her they’d finish it tomorrow and she was stumbling, so tired she couldn’t even answer. She just nodded, her pouting lips pursed, her brow surly, like a drunken biker from that night in Innisfil. He didn’t have to even read her a story, just tucked her pink princess sheets up to her sweet chin and her little mouth was already open and lightly kid-snoring.
He made coffee and he went back to the studio and he put all her pictures into the book and he arranged all their text they’d written. She’d fleshed that story out with him a little and he tried to steer her away from that element he felt a little sensitive about. She resisted, frowning at him, hating being challenged on her own ideas. So it remained as she told it, and now he was piecing together the tale of the unfortunate prince who wasn’t aware of the big ogre’s abilities. He underestimated the creature and he put his princess in peril. He shook his head and smiled at his iMac. This story was telling him something. He laughed out loud.
His iPhone was face up to him on the old rolling barn table that his computer was on. He had the lights low and it made a nice ambience in there. Next to the iMac was the baby monitor and he watched his daughter sleep as he finished the exciting project that came completely from her own amazing brain and that she’d executed quite professionally with her tiny seven-year-old hands. The screen on his phone came to life, a text seen written on its waking surface. A bolt went through him.
Nia: Stripper has some body
G-man: have fun!
Nia: you bet
G-man: how’s his pecker?
Nia: he’s keeping it hidden
G-man: what kind of stripper is this?
Nia: I know. maybe he’s got a little one
G-man: what a let down
Nia: hello!
G-man: what?
Nia: it ain’t little!
G-man: okay
Nia: gotta go, just fell in love
Geoff laughed and held his phone to his chest. She was feeding him what he wanted. He didn’t now how much was true. But the fact that they were together in this gave him such an amazing feeling. He felt filled with love for that woman. He hoped it was a big one. Hoped she had a great time tonight. He challenged himself, examined the feeling and he was convinced he was okay. He wanted her to have a good time in the bad ways she wanted.
NIA
The stripper’s cock was long and he spun it in circles for all the ladies. She’d been texting Geoff, watching dryly while all the other girls went crazy for this kid. He’d ripped his shirt away with a grand flourish. His body was beautiful. He had tanned Mediterranean skin, he’d oiled himself up so that all his ridges gleamed in the halogen spotlights in the restaurant. He had a dumb tattoo up on his upper arm, something that looked like a number off a sports jersey and a maple leaf in the centre. Kid probably played some sport at University. He threw his sunglasses off and his eyes sparkled. He really was very good-looking.
She’d started to come aware now, leanin
g forward in her chair. Then the tearaway pants were snapped off and thrown in her direction, past her side, feeling the fabric brush the flesh of her thigh below her skirt hem. She clapped for him now. He’d found her. He’d found the prettiest girl and while he should have spent his attention on the bride-to-be he was still a boy and he knew what he liked. She danced in her chair for him and she kept in touch with Geoff. His genitals filled up his thong pouch. He shook it and wiggled it for the girls but he had his eyes on Nia. Then somehow he snapped that thing away with one finger and he showed them all the wonderful and beautiful thing he had between his legs. She let Geoff know.