Zoey's Place

by E M Bannock

  “Thanks a lot,” she said. “Are you calling me a pervert?”

  “Not at all,” he said seriously. “I consider it a healthy way to keep the marriage alive and well.” He leaned over and grabbed her hand without thinking and gave it a squeeze. She looked down, and just as quickly he let it go.

  They walked for a while in silence.

  “What about now?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” she replied.

  “How do you get sexual release now, without Mickey?”

  “Well,” she thought, “at first I didn’t even think about sex. I couldn’t. I was so wrapped up in my grief that I couldn’t think about anything except Mickey being gone forever.”

  “And now?” he asked sincerely.

  She stopped abruptly. He had struck a nerve. She could feel her face flush deep red. Truth be told, just these past months she had been thinking of sex just for sex’s sake. She had been relieving herself with masturbation and pornography, but it just didn’t satisfy like real sex. She missed the physical touch, the raw smell, and warmth of a man’s body next to hers. But the thought of having sex with anyone but Mickey made her stomach churn.

  She looked up at him. Should she be honest with him? They had been honest with each other so far, so why quit now? “I’m not sure,” she said truthfully as she began walking again. “I’ve been getting horny again for the first time since Mickey died. I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m certain I’m not ready to have a physical relationship with another man right now.”

  James turned his head to look at her face. She was looking straight ahead but he could still see the slight blush. “So,” he said, “how have you acted on your horniness?”

  Zoey chuckled. “Who’s the pervert now?” she said, trying to get out of answering the question.

  He looked serious, and it was obvious he wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Well, if you must know, I’ve been masturbating,” she said honestly. “I told you, I don’t think I’m ready to be with another man yet.”

  For a quick moment she thought she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. It was quickly replaced with one of disappointment. Then it was gone. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “that’s a start.”

  Summer came and went and turned into fall. Fall was quickly turning to winter. Zoey lived her routine life. But sometime around the beginning of December she realized that her life had become stagnant. It wasn’t that she was bored, but she began to feel that life had become too predictable. She longed for a new adventure.

  “So, you must be getting anxious for school to be over,” she said to James during their regular walk on a bright but chilly morning. James was set to graduate at the end of the winter term.

  “I’ll say,” he said with enthusiasm. “Just one more week of classes, then finals.”

  “Then graduation,” she said just as excited. “Don’t forget about that. It’s been what you’ve been working for all these years.”

  He looked perplexed. “It’s almost anti-climactic,” he said with little emotion. “I’ve been so involved in school and working for the past four years that I really don’t have much of a life outside of that. I won’t know what to do with all my free time.”

  “Well, have you thought about where you want to work, what kind of company you want to work for?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’ve thought about it, but nothing excites me. I’m pretty sure I could work for a big corporation, maybe find something in Vegas, but I don’t want it to be ordinary. I want to work for a company that doesn’t do regular things.”

  She was confused. “What do you mean by regular?” she asked.

  “Well, for one,” he said, “I don’t want to have to wear a suit every day.”

  She smiled. “That doesn’t seem like too big of a hurdle.”

  “For another,” he continued, “I don’t want to work for a meaningless bullshit company. I want to work for a company that does exciting things, but at the same time helps people.”

  “Well, that is a tall order, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes,” he answered. “It is. I want the company product to be stimulating and different. You know, unique.”

  “Any ideas?” she replied.

  “None whatsoever,” he laughed. “But I’ll know it when I see it.”

  She looked at his handsome face and felt a familiar stirring between her legs. She felt slightly out of breath and weak-kneed. There was no denying that he was an attractive man. Any woman would think so. And she was a woman, a woman in need of a man’s touch. She held back, not yet.

  But she couldn’t shake the sexual energy that she felt that morning. It plagued her throughout the day, stirring up feelings deeply hidden since Mickey’s death. That night she found it hard to sleep until she masturbated.

  Chapter 18

  James received his diploma on December 12th with honors, but little fanfare. There was no family in attendance to praise his achievement, only Zoey and a few fellow employees from Keith’s Kitchen, including Keith.

  She felt bad for him. This was quite an achievement. It was something to celebrate. Where was his family? His friends? She decided to ask him as they walked together towards the parking lot after the ceremony.

  She put her hand on his arm and he turned toward her. He could see the concern on her face. “I’m a little surprised your family isn’t here to celebrate,” she noted. “You know, I just realized that on our walks all we do is talk about me. Well, Mickey and me. You’ve never spoken of your family. Aren’t you close to them?”

  “I’m an only child of only-children parents, just like you, and both my parents are dead,” he said matter-of-factly. He had no extended family to share his holidays, birthdays, or other special occasions with. He was alone, just like her. He told her his story and her heart wept for him.

  His father had moved the little family to Incline Village for business reasons just before James started high school. Until this time they’d lived in Chicago, where James was born. His father felt Incline Village would also be a safer environment for his family. He didn’t say what his father’s business was, and Zoey didn’t ask. His father was diagnosed with liver cancer a year after the move and died six months after that. His mother passed of pancreatic cancer two years after, when he was a senior. It took her in ten months. He felt fortunate that he had received enough inheritance money to supplement the grants and scholarships he received to pay most of his college expenses.

  “I learned early in life that I had no one to depend on but myself. I had a good financial start, a lot more than most students had. And my parents always taught me to be self-sufficient. They also taught me about morality and mankind.

  “I believe everything happens for a reason. We may not understand it when it happens. Sometimes the reason reveals itself later, sometimes it never does. Anyway, I knew my ticket to a good life was a good education, and that no one was going to hand me a free ride.

  “I always felt like an outsider in high school, and never really stayed close to any of my classmates after we graduated. Most of the kids didn’t really take life seriously and couldn’t wait to get out of here anyway.”

  Zoey chuckled. “But surely you have an old girlfriend or two hanging around. You’re not a virgin, are you?”

  He smiled and looked into her eyes. “No, there are no girlfriends hanging around and, no, I’m not a virgin. It’s just that I’ve had no serious romantic relationships.” He stood up straight and smoothed his hair back, cleared his throat, and continued. “So, here I am. Now you know who I am and what I’ve been doing for the last four years.”

  She hugged him tightly and closed her eyes. “I had no idea. I feel so selfish.” She could feel her eyes fill with tears.

  He pushed away from her, turning her to face him, and tenderly held her chin. He looked into her tearful eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t, and neither should you. Life threw me a curve ball and I did what I thought I
had to do to make the best of it.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wise beyond your years, and I’m proud to be your friend.”

  “And I yours,” he responded, and hugged her.

  “Well, friend,” she said when they parted, “what you did was amazing and we need to celebrate. I’ve got some leftover chicken and broccoli casserole and a garden salad at my place and lots of wine. Would you care to join me?”

  “Got any Scotch?” he asked. That’s what Mickey drank. It made her think of him for a moment. She knew there was still an unopened bottle of Glenlivet in the cabinet.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. It was Mickey’s,” she said. “He was saving it for a special occasion.”

  He looked at her with a sideways glance. “I knew he was a man of good taste. You don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t,” she answered with authority. “He’s not coming back, and I know he wouldn’t mind. This is a special occasion, isn’t it? So, are you coming?”

  “You mean I finally get to see the inside of Zoey’s Place?”

  It was true. James had never been inside her home. Although he’d picked her up for their beach walks, she was always waiting on the porch when he arrived. He dropped her off at the same spot. She never invited him in. In fact, no man had ever been inside since she moved in permanently, except for the stray delivery men who never made it past the front door. James knew this for fact.

  “Yes,” she said, rather shyly. “It seems we have a lot in common. To use your logic, fate has thrown us together for some reason. Let’s go with it.”

  He grabbed her hand and held it. “Since you put it like that, I accept,” he said as he kissed the back of it in gallant fashion. “I’ll follow you home, milady.”

  Zoey opened the front door to her house and walked in. She turned to see James standing at the threshold. “Are you sure about this?” he asked with trepidation.

  She looked back and around the room behind her, then at him. “I’m very sure,” she said confidently. “Welcome to Zoey’s Place,” she said with a curtsy, stretching out her hand towards the inside as he walked in.

  In short time they had consumed most of the casserole and salad. James had put a dent in the Scotch, and Zoey drank almost a bottle of wine by herself. She was feeling bold and asked a question that had been burning in her mind for hours. “James, friend,” she said, feeling a little light-headed.

  “Yes,” he answered, looking up from his just emptied glass of Scotch, “Zoey, friend?”

  “Can I ask you something really personal?”

  “Anything,” he answered. “You should know that by now.”

  “Well…” She was actually blushing. “You said you’re not a virgin and that you hadn’t had any serious relationships.”

  “Yes,” he replied in confirmation.

  “Well, may I ask how you lost your…” she hesitated. “Do you…” She grappled for the right words. “What I mean is,” she paused, “who do you have sex with?”

  He smiled, picking up her train of thought. “I lost my virginity to Mandy Collins in the 10th grade, at the Autumn Cotillion. She was two years older than me and definitely not a virgin.”

  She smiled. “Oh, my! An experienced older woman.”

  “To say the least,” he said. “She opened up a whole new world to me that night, if you catch my drift.” He gave her a wink and she laughed. “Her mother was a hooker at a brothel. It’s a respectable job around here, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

  “Anyway, she moved right after that and, well, to tell the truth,” he confessed, “since that time I’ve only had sex with hookers; fast, easy, no ties.”

  Zoey was blown away. “You mean to say that you’ve never had sex for love?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Never felt the need. Didn’t really have time for that.”

  She was speechless. Their earlier talk about Mickey’s clients and the hookers he used to get for them came to mind. It all began to make sense.

  “So,” she wondered, “you can just go and have sex with a woman who you know doesn’t love you, and is only doing what she’s doing because you’re paying her to do it?”

  “Yes,” he said calmly. Seeing her look of concern, he added, “It’s no different than me serving you a dinner at Keith’s.”

  “Excuse me?” she interrupted, feeling both a little insulted and a little turned on. “I hardly see the connection.”

  “Look,” he said. “It’s simple. I’m being paid to be nice to customers who come into the restaurant no matter who they are. The chef is being paid to cook without becoming emotionally involved with the people who will eat his food. Everyone gets what they want. Everyone walks out happy, same as in a whorehouse.”

  It was a quite a stretch, but, damn his logic. She was starting to see it his way, against her better judgment. “You sound as if you could be a gigilo just as easily as a waiter.”

  “Maybe I could be,” he retorted without thinking.

  “So, if I put a hundred dollars on the table right now and told you to fuck me, you could do it without any hesitation or feelings of love?”

  “That’s a bit cheap for a fuck but, damn straight,” he said, feeling confident albeit a little tipsy. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and see what happens?”

  “Well, maybe I will,” she said, and without a second thought she reached into her nearby purse, fished out two $50 bills, and slammed them down on the table. She could feel her body heat rise. What was she doing? What if he picked up the money? She finally admitted to herself that she did want him in a sexual way and to her dismay it was pure lustful want and not love. Did he feel the same?

  James glanced down at the cash on the table then up at her. “Are you sure you want to do this and it’s not the alcohol talking?” he asked.

  “Very sure,” she groaned as she started to unbutton her blouse. Her head was a bit fuzzy from the wine but she knew what she was doing. No turning back now, morality be damned.

  He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his very well developed chest frosted with curly blond hairs that formed a directional line leading right down to his crotch. He stood up and moved close to her. He lifted her up by her ass and pulled her in close. She wrapped her legs around him tightly as they headed towards what he assumed was a bedroom. He planted a wet, full mouth kiss on her hungry lips and explored the edge of her mouth with his tongue as they entered the room. She kissed him back, hard and willing. He lay her down on the bed and began to undress her until she was naked. Kicking off his shoes, he dropped his pants to the floor. Lying down naked next to her, he began to fondle her breasts. His tongue gently flicked the soft mounds, then he licked each tip before blowing on them softly. The shock of the cold breeze on her sensitive, moist nipples made them stand up straight and hard. He took one between his finger and thumb and massaged it softly before kissing her again on the mouth.

  She reached down and grabbed the manly hardness she had been longing for. He thrust his hips toward her. Feelings of guilt tried to edge their way into her head. But human nature and erotic yearning won over. It had been too long since she had been fucked. Yes, fucked, that’s what it was. She and Mickey had fucked thousands of times. This was no different. Although there was love with Mickey, there was none now, and it didn’t matter.

  Experienced hands manipulated her body. He touched, kissed, and licked her from head to toe, pausing at just the right spots to heighten her sensations. Every contact point tingled with erotic electricity as he brought her body back to life from its long hibernation.

  Sorrow, worry, responsibility, and reality faded into a weightless vapor. Her only awareness was his touch on her body. He was kissing the back of her neck now and she felt helpless to move. She allowed herself to be controlled by him as he twisted and turned her to reach her sensitive parts. His hands moved to open her legs. She didn’t resist as he began to lick an
d kiss the soft inner flesh of her thighs and explore her secret garden. He positioned himself on top of her but didn’t enter her. He teased her with his penis, letting it touch her nether region and gently rub against her. He humped between her legs until she could stand it no longer.

  “Fuck me, damn you!” she yelled. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” She dug her nails into his back.

  He thrust himself deep inside her. She groaned in delight and abandoned herself to their shared desire, joining him in an unholy orgy of lust and debauchery.

  She came first, releasing the pent-up sexual frustration, desire, grief, and longing she had been holding in since Mickey’s death. It came pouring forth in an explosive orgasm that contorted her body and made her moan like a cat in heat. His orgasm came after a few more deep thrusts and he collapsed on the bed next to her.

  They both lay motionless, sweaty, and breathing heavily for several minutes before Zoey broke the silence. “I need some water,” she said as she got up and went into the adjoining bathroom. He was still lying naked on the bed when she returned a minute later. She was wearing a light robe to cover her nakedness and offered him a sip from the glass she was holding.

  He sat up and brushed his blond surfer hair back. “Did I make my point?” He took the glass from her.

  She closed her eyes. “Yes, damn you,” she reluctantly admitted. “I don’t love you, but I sure as hell enjoyed it.”

  “Same here,” he said, putting the glass down. He stood up and began to get dressed. “I rest my case, Counselor,” he added teasingly.

  “You’re an ass,” she laughed, “but I concede.”

  Chapter 19

  After James left Zoey lay on the bed, reflecting on what she just experienced. She performed sex just for the pure ecstasy of it. The intensity of her orgasm had been strong, almost like what she’d had with Mickey. She had to admit it felt damn good. Did it really matter that love wasn’t involved? She thought for a moment. Yes. Yes, it did. Love was the one elemental ingredient in making love. That’s what she’d had with Mickey. No matter how different, unique, or strange the sex was that they shared, it was always with love—making love and giving love. But logically she couldn’t dismiss the fact that her climax with James had strength and intensity; even minus the love factor, she had enjoyed it. She and James fucked, hard.