by K T Morrison
The guy was strikingly handsome. And up close like this there was something sparkling in his eyes that drew even Darren in. He held out a hand and the other guy took it. Gave him a very strong and firm handshake. His hand was much larger than Darren’s.
“Darren,” he said, voice deep and sonorous, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said.
Madison hung off the man still, and he put his arm over her shoulder. He said, “This is an incredible home you have, Darren.” He looked around the house and the grounds admiringly.
“Thank you,” he said. “You’re a friend of Skyler’s?”
“A friend, yes. Skyler and I are very good friends.”
Madison chirped, “Me, too.”
“And of course, you too.” He kissed the top of her head and she hugged him.
Darren said, “And you’re not ... Her ...?”
Loveless saw what he meant, said, “Father? No, of course not. We have a relationship, though, where my Madison likes to call me that.”
Madison laughed and hugged him again. Now Loveless extended his hand that held the twine handles of the gift bag and offered it to Darren. He said, “And this is for you. For your hospitality.”
“Oh, thank you,” he said. Though he offered no hospitality; the gift was presumptuous.
Skyler said, “Come sit with us, Loveless.”
Loveless said to her, “Run and get us drinking glasses, for Darren and I.”
“I’ll do it,” Madison exclaimed. She trotted off and all three of them watched her. Her bare body running along the deck, up the steps to the back patio and past the French door that led to the kitchen.
“What a girl,” Loveless said with a smile. “Open your bag, Darren.”
Darren held the bag up, pulling the mouth open with the twine handles and saw the top of a wooden case held closed with brass hinges and a lock.
“Come, Darren,” Loveless said as Skyler led him to the patio table. Darren followed, put his hand in the box and pulled out the polished case. Written across the front in wood-burned letters, it read: PORT ELLEN.
“Port Ellen?” he said.
“A gift for you.”
“Port Ellen closed in 1982.” It had. It was a distillery in Scotland that had closed but reserve bottles existed out there held by various agents. All of them treasured and expensive.
There were two brass hasps, and he flicked both of them with his thumbs simultaneously, giving off a solid metal clack. “Have a seat,” he said to Loveless, intrigued now by his visitor, as unwelcome as he had seemed.
Loveless sat at the opposite head of the table where Madison ate, eased her chair back and put himself down gracefully, and crossed one leg over the other, clasping his hands over his thigh. They were large and well-formed, looked strong but carefully groomed. He wore a wedding ring and a gold Patek Phillipe.
Madison burst now out of the door from the kitchen, bounced her way returning to the table, and set down two old-fashioned glasses with a crack on the patio table and then threw herself down in the chair next to Loveless.
“That’s a good girl,” he said to her without looking. Madison beamed.
Inside the case, set in a nest of shimmering red satin was a carefully labeled bottle. Port Ellen 1981, then over that label, above it, the name of the agent. It was a very well presented gift. He imagined it must have cost four figures.
With a wry smile, he said to Loveless, “Who are you?”
He smiled too, said, “I’m a friend of these two young ladies.”
“We invited him,” Madison reminded him.
“All right,” he said. He figured as far as the roster of hardened criminals that these two bad girls could have hailed here, a grown and well-mannered guy his own age who brought such a generous gift was about as good as it would get. Other than two more girls just like them looking to take their clothes off and splash around in his pool.
He said, “That is quite a gift. I do like a good single malt ...”
“I imagined you might.”
Skyler said to him, “What took you so long?”
Loveless said, “I was playing golf with the senator.”
Darren, breaking the seal on the bottle, darted his eyes up, said, “Senator?”
Loveless put a hand up to halt him, said, “State senator.”
Darren said, “A little hot for golf?”
He said wryly, “We were able to stay hydrated.”
Darren poured an ounce into each glass and said, “Yeah, but the state senator ... isn’t he seventy?”
“He is. He’s seventy-one, but he takes good care of himself.” He picked up his glass, holding the rim with all his fingers and whirled its contents, examining its color as it spiraled sunny heliographs on the patio table.
Darren put his nose to the glass and smelled this very rare beverage’s unbelievably peaty scent. “Well, cheers,” he said then, and tilted his glass toward Loveless who met it. They each savored their drink. Darren complimented him on his choice. Told him how much he liked the Port Ellen. He never had one before but it was striking. Then he asked: “And what business would one be in that they spend the afternoon playing golf with the senator?”
Madison interrupted, saying proudly, “He’s a big-time judge.”
Loveless looked to Madison and gave her a warm smile, winked at her, turned to Darren and nodded in agreement.
“A judge?”
“State Supreme Court,” he said.
Darren said, “Good for you. That’s an achievement.”
Loveless was nodding now, his smile still tugging at his handsome cheeks. “And what do you do, Darren?”
“Insurance. I was an actuary a long time ago, then I struck out on my own, established a niche market.”
“That’s the path to success.”
“It was for me,” he agreed and took another swig of the single malt.
“And you’re married?” he asked, nodding toward Darren’s ring.
“Of course,” he said. “Married twenty-five years. Two kids, but they’re out of the house now.”
Loveless said, “Just like me. Married twenty-six years to the love of my life, and two kids off to Brown.”
“You’re married presently?” Darren said.
Loveless smiled and narrowed his eyes at him, assessing him. He looked to the left at Madison who was ogling him, sitting there not wearing a thing, and beyond her, topless Skyler who was examining her phone. Two friends of his. Friends that a man of his stature and age shouldn’t have. He said, “My wife accepted my transgressions a long time ago. And these girls—they’re so much fun, aren’t they?”
Darren held his gaze, felt caught in it like prey under a raptor on a perch. It was a knowing look, a man who knew exactly the lustful thoughts that whipped around Darren’s brain all day today. Knew all the dirty things he’d hoped would happen. Here was a guy who made it happen for himself. He knew how to do it. Didn’t wait for it to come to him, he manufactured his world. “They ... They definitely are,” he said.
“They are indeed, Darren,” he said and raised his glass again. Darren brought his up to clink against it.
Chapter Five
Skyler came from around her side of the table, walking behind Darren’s chair, lifting the outrageously expensive bottle and reading the label. While her eyes scanned it, she asked, “What do you think, Darren?”
He set his glass down, said, “It’s quite nice. That’s not something I’ve tasted before. It’s an amazing gift, I know its history, and it’s a very generous gift your friend brought.”
“Uh-huh,” Skyler said, then leaned forward on one leg, the other extending behind her. She filled both their glasses again.
“Hey, whoa,” he said, seeing her pour too high.
Loveless laughed, and he ran his hand up the back of Skyler’s thigh.
“It is very nice, Darren, isn’t it?” Loveless said, then lifted the glass, pausing it below his nose to sample its ar
oma before taking a long pull.
Darren sipped as well, said, “It is.” Then looking up to Skyler he said, “It’s very peaty, but caramel, too. Very complex, I’ve never had something so earthy that tasted this sweet in a way that I like.” He extended the glass for Skyler to sample. Skyler took the glass with both her hands then let one linger and hold Darren’s fingers while she tilted the whisky back.
His eyes wandered her bare unprotected body while her head was back, darting over those young nipples and breasts, down to the cup of her navel and the little stud of jewelry that pierced it. Then down to her bikini bottom, exploring the shape of her mound underneath the fabric. He knew Loveless was watching him, could see his smirk out of the corner of his eye.
Skyler put the glass back in his hand and held her lips closed while she let it sit in her pretty mouth. She swallowed, then winced, eyes watery and blinking, and she said, “I don’t know how you guys drink that stuff. It’s disgusting.”
Loveless gave a light chuckle, his hand ran up the back of her thigh again and returned to his lap. Skyler let Darren’s hand go and then came to lean against his chair.
Madison let out a long and low exasperated sigh, slumped forward on her chair like she was bored, rolled her eyes dramatically. “Enough with the whisky,” she groaned.
Skyler said, “Madison, let them enjoy a drink together. Let them get to know each other.”
She huffed, her bottom lip pouting. Then she reached out slowly but confidently, cupped her hands around the top of Loveless’s old-fashioned glass, eased it from his grip. They all watched as she took one sip of the rare whisky, then leaned right back, breasts swaying, upended the glass and drained it in four gulps.
She set it down with a thunk. Her eyes traveled all their faces, wet and blinking, she wheezed, “There, now can we do something fun?”
Loveless tsk-ed her, shaking his head, but there was another smirk working his face as he regarded her. No one answered Madison’s question, and she said, “What?” shrugging her shoulders and looking sheepish now.
Skyler said, “You probably just drank about $300 of whisky.”
Madison’s chin dimpled, she shrugged again, said, “So?” Then both her hands gripped Loveless’s wrist, and she pleaded, “Take me to the hot tub, please? Please?” drawing out the E’s in ‘please.’
Still he regarded her, and her expression began to soften as she realized that she might be in trouble. She said with an apologetic smile, “I’m your saucy wench, remember?”
Loveless slowly licked his lips, said, “You are. You are at that, Madison.” Then he eased forward, his eyes closing, his mouth opening. Madison imitated him—eyes lowering as well, lips parting—until they came together and kissed deeply. Darren could tell that Madison had slipped her tongue into Loveless’s mouth.
He watched their mouths work, their necks gulping as they kissed. It was only a few heartbeats, but it seemed to go on forever. Madison’s nipples puckered, condensed to rosy buds. He watched as her thighs came together, muscles squeezing, and her toes flexed on the patio stone. Loveless really did it for her; she wasn’t putting on a show.
When their mouths came apart with a wet smack, they looked into each other’s eyes, and Loveless said to them all, “I think Madison is right. I think a hot tub right now sounds like a wonderful idea.”
The twenty feet from the patio table back to the hot tub seemed the most arduous distance he’d ever traveled. While he trudged slowly his mind raced at four times the pace.
By the time they were at the tub he’d worked out every scenario, and all of them ended up with him having to disrobe in front of them. Knew that would be the culmination of these events. But that was too big a step. He was a married man, and though he knew Lynn was unfaithful, he truly didn’t have concrete proof. And even if he did, was that enough for him to return the favor?
Once again, though, this was an opportunity that would never likely return. His teen fantasies playing out before him. An event so impossible as to be absurd. How could he resist?
Madison brought the glasses, Skyler brought the pitcher and the whisky bottle, and Loveless and Darren each carried their drinks. They all stepped up and stood around the bubbling tub, lit from under the decking overhang, lights coming on automatically at dusk.
As Loveless pulled his shirt overhead, Madison stooped in front of him, undid his belt buckle and unbuttoned his shorts.
Darren said, “I think I have trunks that might fit you.” It seemed like a reasonable thing to say, but once uttered it belly-flopped and he felt foolish. A laugh escaped Madison so abruptly it was like she had blown a raspberry. Skyler laughed as well. Loveless pulled himself out of his shirt, a dimpled smile on his handsome face.
“Trunks? Trunks, Darren? What is this the 1920s? Look at our companions, we may insult them by being overdressed.”
Skyler said, “Nobody’s wearing anything.” Then her hips see-sawed as she shimmied her bikini bottoms down. Her mound was furred with a dense but manicured pad of pubic hair. Something glimmered there between her legs, and Darren figured she had jewelry that matched her belly button.
Loveless said, “Darren, if you please. Don’t be the one to make us self-conscious.”
“No, I know.” He put his thumbs in his waistband, turned and looked nervously over the hedges that separated him from his neighbors. Couldn’t even see a light in a window, but he couldn’t help escape feeling watched. He turned from them, showing them his back as he’d done with Madison in his bedroom. Slipped his trunks down and stepped out of them. Now came the dilemma. He was on display, putting on a show. The last one to disrobe got the most attention. Had he not wasted time, just jumped in, got into the hot tub without his trunks, nobody would’ve paid him any mind. Now he had three spectators eager to see what he would reveal. He could turn, cover up with his hands, but that would be embarrassing. Once again, shyness attracted aggression. Took a quick look down, saw he was shriveled, scrotum drawn up, and his anxiety had come and robbed him of his erection but maybe that was a good thing—leaving him with something a little more plump than were he un-aroused.
When he turned, he held his trunks at his waist, but didn’t cover up, merely casting shade on his genitals below. Loveless had removed his shorts as well. Between the judge’s legs, a monstrous club dangled. So large it made Darren flinch. What quite accurately would be comically described as a baby’s arm. Only Loveless wasn’t even aroused. It hung limply, thick and wrinkled, circumcised with a large and bulbous glans that pointed to the cedar deck. Behind it, two sagging testicles hung between his toned and tanned thighs. Pubic hair was dark, looked trimmed, and also sported flecks of silver. Darren stared too long, struck with a horror before he could avert his eyes. He let the trunks come down to cover what he had. But it was too late.
In a lilting, taunting tune, Madison sang, “Some-bod-y’s-got-a-lit-tle-dick,” and she wagged a crooked pinky.
Loveless said, “Madison, darling. That’s not very nice. Darren, don’t let Madison’s careless tongue keep you from joining us.” He held out a hand. “Come and get in with us, we’re all friends here. Madison ...?”
“What ...?” she protested, but Loveless held her gaze and slowly Madison began to slump, finally she shrugged, mouthed Sorry, then said to Darren: “Sorry, Darren.”
Skyler never lost her smile, leaned to Darren and said, “I think he just needs a little excitement in it,” then ran her nails up his thigh to his hip. His scalp tingled like with electricity and his nipples turned to stones, his mind reeling backwards. Under the shorts bunched in a ball between his legs his balls tightened to a firm pouch.
“Skyler ...”
Skyler purred next to him, her body so close, her eyes between his legs as she took the trunks away to reveal himself. With his other hand he blocked the view of his penis from Madison and Loveless. The stroke of her nails on him had charged it with blood and while he wasn’t erect, his size had improved.
“See,” she w
hispered, and the fact that this hot young girl was so close, and intently staring at his penis, they both watched as it extended and bobbed right before them, the loose skin of his shaft beginning to tighten. He grew to full hardness.
“Look at that. Not so bad now, Darren ...”
“Yeah,” he said, lifting his eyes and seeing she stared at him, her face friendly and brightened with a beautiful smile.
“Come on, Darren, don’t be a spoilsport,” she said, holding out a hand to him as she stepped backward toward the hot tub, tossing his shorts away. “Come in with us.”
He covered his erection again with one hand, took Skyler’s hand with the other. Skyler took his with both her hands now and tugged him to the hot tub, making faces like she pulled with great effort and it got him smiling.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, and he went with her, feeling a lightness now, the arousal that stiffened him felt pretty good. What Loveless had between his legs was a rarity. Something like one in a million. Maybe one in ten million. What Darren had was what one would expect between a man’s legs.
“Okay, Skyler, I’m coming, I’m coming ...”
Madison muttered coyly, “Not yet ...” as Darren stepped into the tub. Knew what that implied, but chose not to believe it. Surely it wouldn’t really happen. This was a Playboy fantasy, a Penthouse letter. As much as he’d like to think that this was going to end in his bedroom, the chances were slim. Reality was far harsher than fantasy. Most likely, he would wake tomorrow with a hangover and a painful set of blue balls that he would have to relieve in the bathroom shower before Lynn’s flight got in.
So he disregarded what Madison said, acted as though he didn’t hear it, and Skyler did the same. He figured, given the relationship dynamics, if events were to transpire as his boyhood fantasies would want them to, he would be paired with Skyler. Quite clear that Madison had a distinct claim on Loveless, and a distinct disdain for Darren. So his energies should be concentrated, as nefarious as it may seem, on the girl who once played in his pool when she was a little kid and he was her best friend’s father.