A Wager With Sadie: 015

The twisting of his psyche was unreal.

How did it come to this?

One moment Sadie’s jerking him off in a hammock, then offering a funny anecdote about something embarrassing in college, and the next thing he’s contriving a way for his wife to engage in some play that’ll indulge his sudden and unexpected fantasy. That was the first twenty-four hours. Now they were in Stage 2, and lord help him if he knew what to make of it. And if he could, what would happen if this thing entered a Stage 3?

It was an immense load to contend with and he pressed his icy glass of whisky soda to his forehead and rolled it from temple to temple in slow osculation, the ice cubes gently tinkling.

“Just can’t cool off, huh?”

His eyes opened and he set down the glass on the bar. He knew it was Quan before he even looked; the deep voice, the overheating inference.

“Yeah,” he said, “but I’m getting there,” rolling his glass between his palms before looking to his right to see Quan, dressed and refreshed, and from his style of dress, ready to lead another class in yoga. Maybe Sadie would be in it, and Quan would have his big hands on her again, a secret between them, the rest of the yoga groupies clueless to what had transpired between the sexy married woman and the gorgeous instructor they’d probably all twiddled their beans over last night while their husbands slept next to them.

Quan signaled to the bartender just by smiling and nodding once, and the bartender scooted away, preparing something for him. Quan came closer, said, “Great way to cool down is to come to my class.”

Teddy acted cool but oblivious. “What do you teach?”

Quan laughed in a charming, big guy way; he was close by, leaning his elbows on the counter and looking out over the bar’s short backstop, above the liquor bottles on the shelves and below the thatched canopy, where there was a view of the far away hillside where the villas were, and a slim horizontal slice of the ocean. “Yoga class, here at the resort,” he said, clasping his hands together. The bartender buzzed up the blender, making some creamy looking fruity drink.

Flushed out the bad stuff.”

“I’m a big fan of the bad stuff,” he said, toasted Quan with his whiskey soda and took any icy swig.

Quan laughed and accepted a frothy drink from the bartender, served in a tall pebble-glass tumbler.

Teddy patted the empty stool next to him and told the bartender to put Quan’s drink on his tab.

Quan and the bartender winked at each other, and Quan sat on the stool beside Teddy with his milkshake. “No need, m’man, it’s on the resort’s tab because I teach here. Appreciate it though.” With the tips of his fingers holding the rim of his glass he held up the base and Teddy touched his whisky to it. They drank.

Teddy said, “What are you drinking?”

Quan said, “Protein smoothie.”

“You’re like my wife,” he said.

Quan said, “Cares about her body?”

“No,” Teddy said, “Six-four and twenty-inch biceps.”

Quan snorted and almost choked on his protein shake. He turned away laughing and coughing. When he returned he’d composed himself but was still chuckling. “Sorry to hear that, Graham.”

“It’s mostly okay, one thing for sure: I never miss an anniversary.”

“You better not,” Quan said, enjoying Teddy’s company, smiling, enjoying the breeze and the view.

Teddy asked him when his class started and said he had half an hour. They shot the shit for a bit, and it wasn’t long before he got the chance to push the conversation where he wanted saying in a quiet moment after a shared laugh: “You know, I think you and. I might have a friend in common . . .”

***

Lipstick applied, she mushed her lips together, gave her reflection a kiss in the villa’s bathroom mirror. Stepped back now, hands running up and down her hips and upper thighs, adjusting the height of her stretchy, clingy pink dress. The same one from the night before, but somehow looking even better on her. Was it the color on her skin? Two days of sunshine had brought luster and life to her Minnesota skin. She looked good. Really good. There was a twinkle in her eye. And, as crazy as it was, that twinkle was sparked by her husband’s insane request.

But that request had done something to them, and they would enjoy it all vacation long. Yes, indeed. The kind of sex they’d been having the last two days was hot and lusty, fun because it was with her familiar and favorite lover, Graham Teddy-bear Kellogg. It was like she was with Teddy for the first time again. A crazy sort of feeling, like she couldn’t get enough of him.

Shoot. Horniness. That’s what that feeling was called. She was horny for her Teddy Bear.

She laughed at her reflection now, gave one last pirouette checking out her curves, especially from the backside. Up on her toes, flexing, checking out the bounce of her rump. All good, she snapped up her clutch, turned off the bathroom light and headed to the bedroom.

Dinner with Teddy tonight. This time they were going to make it to the fine dining, tonight they were going to enjoy the pork. They’d share a bottle of wine, maybe snuggle beachside, the villa had a movie-night tonight, playing Casablanca on a white sheet, everybody sitting outdoors in this great weather. Then what would they do? Back in here, maybe she tell him about what she did with Quan again. Maybe they’d get totally naked, try out some of the other rooms in their villa, maybe even outside in the garden . . .

It was coming out from the bedroom, through the living area toward the foyer, she heard talking. Teddy. Another man. A man with a much deeper voice. Steps slowing, the steady click-click of her heels on the villa’s tile floor came to a stop. She listened. She recognized the deep voice.

Now her insides chilled. She moved silently to the wall’s edge, peeked around the corner and saw the dark silhouette of two men standing in the villa’s foyer, waiting for her. On the right, the familiar silhouette of her husband, Teddy, engaged in conversation. On the left a man of about the same height but maybe forty-pounds more muscle. Talking, smiling, the deep voice, the way his hands moved while he talked and gestured . . . Quan.

If she thought she was sneaky, she wasn’t. Teddy smiled now, spotting her spying, lifting his chin and saying, “Hey, there she is. You ready for dinner, Sadie?”

***

He caught Sadie peeping around the corner, his wife probably disbelieving what her husband was doing. Good. Check it out, Sadie. You want to sneak around behind my back, you can find out there’s no sneaking needed. Tell me to my face what you want, and I’ll make it happen.

The thing he’d asked for, the use of her hands on another man, had been a terrible spike in his sexual psyche. Imagining his wife with Quan, jerking him off, was wild and sexual and drove him to heights he never expected. But wow did it hurt knowing that Sadie had been texting Quan afterward. Wow, did it also get him hard. Hard in the stomach, but much harder between the legs.

There were couples out there that did this sort of thing. It wasn’t out of the question. And clearly it was something they could do. That drive was in him. The drive to see Sadie with another man. And Sadie definitely had an interest in Quan. So the best thing he could do when he discovered she’d been creeping around behind his back, staying in flirty touch with the man she jerked off, was invite Quan to dinner.

“Come on out, Sadie, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice shaky, stepping back unseen again, standing in the hallway toward the living room. A few beats as she readied herself, then coming around the corner in her tight pink dress, walking on high heels, the muscles in her tanned legs flexing. She held her clutch to her stomach, her other hand brushing hair back from her beautiful face, lips shining with gloss. “Oh hey, Quan,” she said, “Teddy didn’t tell me you were coming for dinner.”

“Surprise, Sadie. I just found out myself.”

Sadie said, “He’s been away all day, out golfing or something. I was wondering if he’d forgot about dinner altogether?” She came to him now, slunk an arm around his neck and kissed him. She cupped his neck, and slapped his cheek. A light smack.

Yes, playful Sadie. Your husband is a naughty boy. Very naughty. And are you up for this game, my beautiful Sadie? . . . He showed her his slyest smile. “You look out of this world,” he said.

“Thanks.” Sadie stepped back, letting them both look at her for one second before going to Quan, putting an arm around him and giving him a polite cheek-to-cheek hug. The hand with her wedding ring patted him once on his broad and muscular back. “Good to see you,” she said.

Quan flattened a big hand to the small of her back saying, “Good to see you, too, Sadie—and thanks for the invite to dinner.”

As Sadie returned to his side, Graham said, “I understand you two have a lot in common. You know, Sadie went to law school, too, was a student-athlete . . .”

“That’s right,” Sadie said, a scared sort of smile on her face. “Quan knows all about it.”

“I do,” Quan said, nodding once.

Sadie gave a polite look at him, then Quan, back to him and now saying, “Shall we go?” She gestured to the door, Quan turning and heading outside, all three of them in an awkward sort of stiffness.

He got ahead of Sadie and held open the door for her but she paused by his chest, saying to Quan, “Hey, give us a second, I just need to talk to Teddy here,” all smiles and sweetness.

He said, “We’ll just be a sec—”

Sadie’s hand was smoothing his chest, but as Quan turned his back to them she grabbed his earlobe and pinched it hard.

“Ow, Sadie, ow . . .”

He let the door close and it was just him and Sadie now, Quan out on the patio taking a look at their private pool.

Sadie walked him rearward two steps till his back was against the wall. When she spoke, her tone was low and hissing, no fun at all: “What did you say to him?” She was mad.

That made him laugh, seeing her so frightened she was angry with him. A sign his wife was riled. Yeah, she’d be mad he’d thrusted this in her lap, but Sadie wanted Quan whether she knew it, and he’d let her get accustomed to the idea. “Just dinner, Sadie,” he said, trying not to laugh.

Stern Sadie: “Teddy, what are you doing?”

“He’s going to have dinner with us. Why are you so mad?”

“Why would you do this, Teddy?” She still held his earlobe, and the grip hadn’t lessened. For some reason he couldn’t help wanting to laugh. He was giddy with the prospect of what he’d done here, and seeing Sadie so incensed was proof of her excitement.

Now he held her gaze and he cupped his palms on her bare shoulders, felt her soft skin, hot from the sun and shower, showing tan, flawless and moisturized and gleaming, thinking how another man might touch her tonight and how crazy that made him feel. He said, “You weren’t kidding about that dick.”

She shook her head like she’d been shocked; disbelief at her husband’s strange statement. “What are you talking about?”

“Quan,” he said, smiling, pointing his chin over her shoulder to their large dinner guest beyond the window wall, hands in his pockets, wandering their patio, waiting patiently. “I couldn’t believe it. You were under-selling that thing . . .” He waited for some sign of humor, some release from her tension, but she only grew more apprehensive.

“Teddy, what are you . . . what is happening here? Where did you . . .?”

“Ran into Quan today. At the gym. We shared a sauna . . .”

Sadie’s mouth slowly opened like she would say something, but she didn’t. Staring at him now, mouth hanging open, looking bewildered.

He said, “I found out something else, too . . .” He stroked her shoulders, massaged his amazing wife.

She whispered, “What’s that?” But her eyes were wide and unseeing, like her body was here in the villa, but her mind had left the room.

“I found out you’ve been texting him since your time together.”

Mouth open, her eyes slowly closed. The grip on his earlobe loosened. “Oh, Teddy . . .”

“I was mad at first,” he confessed, still rubbing those hot shoulders. “But, wow, for some reason, Sadie, everything you do now turns me on. Even when it’s terrible.” He waited for her gaze to meet his . . .

Their eyes met and he showed her lusty compassion. Sadie’s hand that had pinched his earlobe and now rested on his collar formed a fist. She thumped a hard hollow sound on his chest, and her expression pinched fierce. “Teddy! What did you say to him?” she hissed through clenched teeth. Red warmth showed on her cheeks, his wife getting flustered. That’s it, Sadie, yes, it can happen if you want it to happen . . .

He told her: “If you want him, he’s all yours, Sadie. You don’t have to go behind my back. I approve.” He could already feel a swelling in his underpants, just the words out in the open driving him wild, accelerating his dirty thoughts with the multitude of possibilities.

And this was where Sadie would tell him he’s crazy, say No way, but her heart would beat faster, her eyes would go glassy, and she wouldn’t be able to hide her smile . . .

Instead she thumped his chest hard again, stomping her high-heeled foot on the foyer tile. “Teddy. What. Did. You. Say. To. Him?” Still hissing through clenched teeth.

“It’s okay, Sadie. I’m not mad,” he said, touching her forearms now, taking her wrists, loosening that fist and lacing his fingers through hers. “Not mad at all. I want to have some fun. If you’re up for it . . .”

She groaned and closed her eyes and now he couldn’t help laughing.

Eyes closed, she said, “Teddy, you’re killing me.”

“I love you,” he said hopefully.

Sadie still didn’t smile nor collapse against him; no surrendering at last to his crazy plans for the evening. Not yet.

He flicked the pads of his thumbs over the pads of hers, waiting . . .

“Teddy, I’m about to lose my mind here . . .” Eyes still closed, Sadie talked to the ceiling, cheeks blazing . . .

“Tell me about it,” he said and chuckled.

His chuckle made her mad. Her eyes flashed open, then narrowed to serious again. “Teddy, did you talk to him about the hand job?”

“Didn’t come up,” he said, chuckling again. “You mean the foreplay?”

“Fore . . .?” She stared at him, incredulous. Her hands left his and she crossed her arms and stepped away. She was outraged.

“Teddy, I didn’t really give him a hand job, you fucking idiot!”