By Exotic Poet
|(MF, Cheat, Oral )|
I glared at the dance band. Its renditions were fine until attempts at improvisation proved it really did not know what it was doing. Dancers swayed but it was difficult to tell if anyone had a partner.
The music was the perfect counterpart to the room’s artificiality. The huge chandeliers enhanced a simmering deceitfulness where false faces smiled below devious eyes peering over martini glasses, and strangers pretended to enjoy themselves.
Acrid smoke from Russian cigarettes mixed with a sweet grassy odour being discreetly ignored.
‘Why Terry drags me to these functions is beyond me, but he certainly seemed determined to come to this particular one. I did not belong here.’
“You’ll like it!” he’d said. “It’s surprising what you can learn by mingling at an office party.”
I escaped into the ladies room.
‘At least that irritating band is somewhat muted in here.’
The room was cheerfully opulent with gilded mirrors framed by small crystal lights. Gold-plated faucets reflected the miniature pot-lights high above the long granite counter where various jars, bottles, and colourful vials were displayed.
A subtle air of Jasmine emitted by hidden decanters attempted to mask the aroma left by the last visitors.
The full-length mirror showed a tall, slim, well-proportioned woman in a straight cut satin gown with spaghetti straps. I turned sideways and smoothed my hands down my hips. I always considered my derriere my best asset.
My heels’ clicking resonated off the walls as I moved to the basins. As I patted my cheeks with a damp paper towel I saw worried – almost furtive - eyes staring back.
Why was I so edgy? Call it woman’s intuition but there was something strangely unsettling about my young marriage.
I did not have to get married, but after establishing a growing advertising business and going on twenty-nine, I figured it was the thing to do.
Periodically, I had shared the same elevator with Terry, a dashing young exec from the third floor. Soon suggestions for coffee and donuts became cocktails and late night trysts. For me, our lovemaking was new and exciting, but I was keenly aware that he was not happy when I continued to resist his attempts at ‘experimentation’.
He wanted us to just live together but my upbringing would have none of that. He eventually agreed to a simple ceremony.
I recalled last night when I had been ‘in-the-mood’ and bugged Terry to make love to me. When he finally relented, I found his caresses less than stimulating, and when he took me it was almost mechanical. I did not sleep for ages afterwards, but rationalized he was concerned about his job and the pressures at work.
I nipped into the cubicle adjacent to the large handicapped stall at the end and slammed the door as if trying to shut out the world. I smiled inwardly when the heavy steel door gave a secure satisfactory thump and I hastily slid the lock into place.
Not really having any ‘business’ to accomplish, I closed the lid and sat on it as that familiar mixture of perfume and urine, which always seemed to be permanently imbedded into the walls of such places, immediately enveloped me.
I stared at the granite tiles with their intricate patterns, and was following a particularly interesting vein, when someone entered the bathroom. A lady’s giggle was immediately followed by a male’s husky whisper.
“I can’t come in here. This is crazy.”
The voice sounded strangely familiar but the room’s acoustics blurred the tones.
“Oh come on,” a female whisper coaxed. “Who’s going to know or even care?”
“What if someone comes? Maybe someone is in here already.”
“If you’re worried,” said the female voice indicating minor frustration, “Have a quick look underneath the doors.”
I quickly formed the lotus position and pulled my gown up around my hips.
There was a pause and some shuffling, after which I heard her say, “There, see; nobody.”
My heart jumped when she added, “And check the doors if you want.”
I could hear the stalls being opened until at last two pair of feet stood in front of mine.
‘Isn’t that cute,’ I thought. ‘He has a tied broken lace just like my Terry.’
I held my breath when the door resisted the effort to open it.
Chanel #5 invaded my space. It certainly was not as delicate as the L’Aviance I preferred.
‘I have met someone who likes to wear that.’ I mused, ‘and often a bit too much, I dare say.’
“The toilet is probably broken,” she said. “They lock the doors until they have time to fix it. Come on. Let’s go in here where there is more room.”
The adjoining wall shuddered as large door thudded shut, and the lock slid into place.
“I still think this crazy,” I heard him protest weakly.
“Oh, quit worrying. Hurry up. I want you so bad.
“Me too. I could hardly wait for tonight to see you.”
I detected the rustle of clothes and the soft whir of a zip.
“I’m glad you did not need a bra. You are so beautiful and soft and…”
I could hear muffled snuffling sounds.
“Oh yes! Yes! Bite them.”
“What if she goes looking for me?”
“Oh will you stop worrying about her!” came a sharp retort. “In such a large crowd she’d never find you anyway.”
I was hardly breathing, and my legs were starting to ache. The crack in the partition beckoned a sneak-peek but I dared not move.
There was the buzz of a heavy zipper and the clink of a belt buckle.
“Oh, you are so ready! I love it when he is big and hard. Here, reach under me and feel how much I want you.”
“You certainly are, aren’t you? How is this?”
“Mmm, that makes my knees go weak.”
The man chuckled as the woman’s panting became a stifled moan.
“I want to see him.”
“No! No!” the man protested.
Black expensive stiletto heels, with a pair black panties wrapped around one ankle, jutted under the dividing wall.
“I love to kiss him.”
“You don’t have to, you know.”
“Don’t you like it when I do this?”
“Oh God yes,” came an anguished assent.
I put my hands on my cheeks as I felt my face flush as small intermittent slurps penetrated the silence.
Suddenly all movement and sounds ceased when the lounge door opened and closed.
The quiet thump of a stall door indicated the guest was on a mission. I heard the girl’s feeble attempt to stifle a nervous titter when the hollow sound of urine stream broke the stillness.
When the stall door squeaked open, I visualized the person clicking across to the counter; ensuring her hair and eyelashes were neat; and perhaps reapplying some lipstick. The heels tapped towards the door where they stopped.
“Having fun, guys?” laughed a perceptive voice.
The door closed.
“There see? No one cares,” she said and renewed her efforts.
The man moaned. “Not too much, Angela. I’m almost there.”
‘I know an Angela,’ I reflected, but was distracted from further extrapolations by the continuing muffled drama.
“Then let him come,” she teased.
“No.” The word was decisively intense. “Come up here. I need you now.”
It was Terry!
The shoes disappeared as a faint warm muskiness invaded my stall.
“Turn around and bend over,” he commanded. “I think it will be easier.”
I heard the rustle of clothing being impatiently pushed aside.
“This long gown isn’t helping. I can’t see what I’m doing,” said the frustrated voice. “Guide me in.”
It was impossible to not visualize the manoeuvres, and I was inwardly angry at becoming aroused myself.
“Mmmm, thanks. I like it this way because I can touch you at the same time. I can’t get Lizzy to try this, because she says she’d feel like an animal.”
My heart turned to ice.
“You’re the best, Terry.”
‘Angela! From the office!’
At last the pieces fit together – and they certainly were fitting together now.
I was incensed for being so naïve, so trusting, so betrayed!
“We – are – going – to – have – to – do – something – about – her,” Angela strained between thrusts.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Oh God, I’m nearly there.”
“Me too!” came a cry.
I covered my ears but the heavy groan and squeal of their climax was too loud. Gradually, the heavy gasping changed to nervous chuckles.
“That was wonderful!” Angela purred. “That was the best ever!”
“It’s always great with you,” sighed Terry.
Again the knife entered my heart.
My mind scrambled. ‘How long has this been going on?’
The urge to confront them was halted when I heard Angela ask, “Have you given any more thought to, well, you know, the accident?”
“We can’t rush something like that,” Terry cautioned, “but I was hoping something could be arranged when the new car goes in for its annual big check up. She will have to use the old car.” He paused, then in a sinister voice he added, “And, you know, almost anything can go wrong with old cars these days.”
“I’ll leave everything to you.”
“Here, let me get that zipper for you.”
Discarded black briefs hit the wall below the partition.
I could tell they were kissing.
“Well, let’s go,” Terry said, “Although I wish we were somewhere more private and cozy.”
The lock clicked open and the door thumped.
“You go ahead,” Angela suggested. “I want to wash up a bit and fix my hair and lipstick. Love you.”
“Love you too,” came the light reply, as the shoes with one tied lace went by my stall. “Your place next Monday?”
“I’ll be waiting,” she sing-songed.
I remained still long after I heard Angela leave before I allowed my aching legs to relax and regain some feeling. Between the numbness in my legs and the psychological shock, I was uncertain of walking with any assured steadiness, but vengeful anger began to seethe, and put rigidity into my stride.
I walked to the counter and I viewed my image in the mirror. The mousiness was gone! My lips tightened into a tight grin for now the eyes staring at me were those of a hunter. Her lingering perfume spurred my determination.
Again in front of the full-length mirror I smoothed my dress over my hips and deliberately made my cleavage a bit more pronounced.
“The best defence is an informed well-planned offence,” I stated to the revitalized reflection, and strode out into the crowd.
“Thank you,” I said, snagging a drink from the passing waiter’s tray. After a few minutes of casual searching, I found Terry.
“Enjoying yourself? he asked.
I pasted on one of my best smiles and peered across the martini’s rim.
“You know, you were right. It is surprising what one can learn at an office party.”
© Copyright 2011 Exotic Poet