11
This was one of the best meals Marcus had ever eaten. The food itself was delicious. Tender beef strips stir fried with a range of vegetables, including bok choy, thinly sliced carrot strips, chilli, broccoli florets and snow peas, served with fluffy, perfectly cooked rice. Marcus was happy to take Christy’s word that the wine was a perfect match for the food, he didn’t know enough about wine to agree or disagree. But the best part about the meal was the conversation.
Christy felt she had a pretty good insight into Marcus’s relationship history and recent sexual past, but she didn’t know very much about him outside those parameters. Marcus, for his part, didn’t really know much about Christy other than that she was an excellent sex therapist, that she had a loving relationship with her husband, and that she had the most fuckable ass on earth. Marcus knew absolutely nothing about Alex other than that he was well built, had a winning smile, seemed to know his way around the kitchen, and was an persuasively effective coach when it came to teaching people how to stir things around in a wok.
Marcus gushed his appreciation. “Wow, Miss Christy, this is an excellent meal. Just the perfect amount of spicyness for me. And I really like the wine, too. I don’t know very much about wine at all. Normally I drink beer or spirits when it comes to alcohol. Maybe I’m a bit uneducated when it comes to the finer things. I guess I grew up on the other side of the tracks. Thank you very much, and also to you, Alex, for inviting me over. This was most unexpected. It’s such a good thing I bumped into you both at the supermarket this morning.”
Christy and Alex shared quick glances, but Christy responded. “It *was* a happy coincidence, wasn’t it? We’re both really glad you’re here with us. Just out of interest, how do you normally spend your Saturday nights? I mean, what would you be doing tonight, for instance, if you weren’t here with us?”
“Oh, I don’t really know. To be totally honest, Saturday night isn’t a big thing for me. For a lot of people, I know Saturday night is ‘the big night out on the town’. People go out to expensive clubs and drink cocktails and wake up on Sunday morning regretting the whole thing. I’m more likely to go to a gig, usually to watch metal bands. I generally get a bit drunk when I’m at a gig, and if I’m lucky, I’ll pick someone up to fuck. But lately, I haven’t been very lucky at all. Or I’ll go skateboarding around town with my bros, just to pass the time. Or I get stoned at home on my own, watching porn. I don’t know. It doesn’t sound very high class, does it, Miss Christy? Not compared to this beautiful meal and this nice wine.” Marcus took another sip and Alex noticed the bottle was empty. They’d finished eating, but the night was just beginning.
“I’ll get another bottle, shall I, Christy? Another Kiwi white?”, Alex inquired.
“Hmm”, said Christy. Let’s go for a chardonnay from the Napa Valley, I think we have a bottle or two in the chiller. What do you think, Marcus?”
Marcus had no idea, and he said as much. “I don’t really know. I’m happy to drink whatever you want to put in front of me.”
Alex found the required bottle, opened it, and he poured into their glasses.
They talked. They talked about Marcus’s upbringing. He was raised in a fairly ordinary house. All of his needs were met – there was always food on the table and a roof over his head, but there wasn’t anything special either. He didn’t go to college. He discovered cinema and art quite by himself. He travelled overseas a couple of times, once on his own and once with his ex, but again, international travel was way outside his upbringing. There was no need for him to remind Christy about his sexual history, this was all already on the table with her. He wasn’t sure how much Alex knew – what kind of pillow talk did Christy and Alex have? – but he didn’t feel the need to rehash his sexual past right now. Besides, in Marcus’s mind, Alex had nothing to do with his therapy anyway.
Once Marcus ran out of things to say about himself, he innocently asked “so, Miss Christy, how did you and Alex meet?” He took a sip of wine.
“At an orgy.”
Marcus spat wine all over himself.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Marcus”, apologised Christy, “let me get something for you to wipe that up with.”
Marcus caught his breath. Christy left the room to retrieve something from the kitchen to help Marcus clean up.
While she was gone, Alex filled in some vague details in the limited time available. “Marcus, yeah, it’s true, Christy and I had sex before we’d even spoken a word to each other. I came in her snatch, then we grabbed a drink to cool down, and we introduced ourselves, both completely naked. Strange way to meet someone, wouldn’t you say?”, suggested Alex.
“Yes, I definitely *would* say!”, Marcus volleyed back. “Meeting someone at an orgy, and then eventually starting a relationship and then getting married? I don’t really know what to say. I mean, it’s just one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard, but it obviously works so well for you. I mean, between the two of you, it seems to me you’ve both smashed it out of the park in the game of life. Christy is so unbelievably hot, and I remember seeing your dick a few weeks ago while you fucked her, and I have to say, I’m fucking jealous of what you’ve got down there. It must’ve felt so awesome to grab a beer at an orgy, having just unloaded in someone, knowing how much meat you’ve got hanging down between your thighs. I can’t imagine what that would feel like.”
There was no time for Alex to respond. Christy came back into the room with some paper towels for Marcus’s shirt. She’d taken the opportunity after the meal to reapply her lipstick. A thick, bright red.
Marcus’s penis was hard as a steel rod, but it was hidden by the dining table.
Christy vigorously padded Marcus’s chest in a vague, distracted attempt to soak up the rejected mouthful of wine. “I’m really sorry, Marcus, but I’m worried that I might’ve ruined your shirt”, she apologised. With Christy all over his chest, there was nothing he could do to stop his nipples standing to attention.
“That’s OK, Miss Christy, I don’t mind”, mumbled Marcus. It’s a black shirt, and it was just white wine. It’ll all come out in the wash. It just looks a little wet, you can barely even see a stain. Nobody would ever notice, and I don’t wear collared shirts very often anyway. Thank you, but it really doesn’t matter”.
“But Marcus, what kind of host would I be if I ruined my guest’s clothing?”
“Miss Christy, it’s totally OK with me. Really. It’s just a shirt. It’s easy for me to wash.”
“Come on, Marcus. If it’s easy for you to wash, it must be easy for me to wash too. Give me your shirt. I’ll wash it for you now. It’s no trouble. I’ll put it in the dryer after, so it’s nice and toasty for you to go home in.”
Alex chimed in. “Yeah, bro, hey, no problem. Give her your shirt and it’ll be nice and clean in no time.”
Marcus wasn’t sure, but he unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to Christy. “Thank you, Miss Christy. You really don’t need to do this.”
Christy waved his concerns away and took Marcus’s shirt away to wash it.
Alex and Marcus sat at the dining table. Alex was wearing a shirt. Marcus wasn’t. Marcus knew he couldn’t leave Miss Christy’s house without his shirt.
Marcus glanced nervously toward Alex.