Cat and Mouse

But then something even weirder was going on with Ellie. She was stunning in her tight orange Versace dress and white pumps with an embroidered rose on their toes. Her short brown hair was slicked back, kind of butch, but kept feminine by her long thin neck, and she'd ventured into new territory by applying eyeliner and shadow. She looked so hot it was hard not to chase her around the room with your dick out, yet her friends managed to remain completely oblivious to her. It left her standing rigid and awkward, obviously forcing her laughter, her eyes losing focus, and then sharpening with envy on some vacant area of the room.

I'm pretty sure it had to do with me, her husband. I had a feeling that they all viewed me as a passing phase for Ellie, and they were just waiting it out until they had her all to themselves again. And until then, she'd just have to stand there craving attention, and watch as her best friend stole the show.

I don't even remember asking the question, but apparently I mumbled unconsciously to Hubert about whom all Ellie had been involved with. He was a little shocked and wouldn't say. Then a second later, actually dying to say it, he blurted out, "I can tell you she dated Roger, but then he's dated all the girl's, so it's no biggie."

"Rodger? Now that hurts!"

"I know, I'm gay and I don't see it either. But then I'm totally into Latin men."

Roger was standing over by Ellie and Hailey, watching Hailey reenact the worst love scene of all time. He looked a little like Ewan McGregor, but had styled, wavy, black hair. Besides me, he was the only guy not wearing a suit. Instead he sported a flannel shirt that he tucked into his jeans and a bolo tie. He pretty much exemplified a soap opera's version of the badboy. He worked out, that was obvious, and he even seemed fearless, but it was impossible to get around how fake he was.

I'm sure I looked about as disappointed over the Rodger news as Herbert's dad the day Herbert told him he preferred Latin men. Herbert then said, in what I guess was an attempt to make me feel better, "He does drive a Harley, you know. And he does make Diesel jeans look fantastic."

I decided to drop this topic as fast as I could and start plying him for dirt on some of the other girls. There was one younger chick in particular, a blonde with perfect tits, a fit ass, and a face that was definitely stage worthy. She could've easily passed for eighteen, so I checked her age with Herbert and learned she was actually twenty-one, the same age Ellie was when we'd first met. She also looked like a very sweet girl––like she could really benefit from Ellie and me giving her a vigorous education on the hard facts of life. However, something told me that Ellie would be put off by a chick four years younger than herself, and I knew I had to pass on that hot, young, smoking child.

As I scanned the room, there was another girl who I'd never seen before, a very pretty Asian in a full length, red, evening gown. Herbert explained that her name was Toni and she'd just moved back home a few months ago. "But..." he began, and then started over, "I'm not going to say anything, but absolutely do not get friendly with her."

This gay dude apparently knew nothing about women, surprise, surprise, because she looked as if she could use a friend, and possibly a naughty couple to pick a lock that only a naughty couple could.

I ended up introducing myself to Toni and to the two people she'd been talking with. The guy and girl seemed to have their own conversation going and finally forgot about us completely and wandered to the kitchen. Toni and I kept chatting and I learned she had gone to LA on the same flight as Rico. They were both going to become famous, but during her three years in the heart of Hollywood she'd never been to a single casting call. Her and Rico broke up several months after they arrived, and she eventually returned to Oregon to get a degree in teaching.

"Well," she said, "I think Rico earning his big break has them all dreaming of fame again. But I kind of feel like I gave it everything I had and I'm pretty sure I'm over the whole being famous thing." It was the most level headed thing I'd heard all evening, and I could totally see why they were all scared shitless of her.

I told her, "No offense to your friends, but do they really think they're on their way to stardom doing theater in Portland?" She laughed, and I continued, "Have you noticed they treat Ellie like an outsider ever since she got married, because that's always been my take on it. And the way I hear it; they talked her out of modeling when she was younger, like modeling wasn't good enough. Modeling! I'm in full support of her acting, but––modeling? Their influence on her is freaking horrible."

My beef was real but I'd bitched about it in a lighthearted tone, so she laughed some more, and then admitted to being a victim of the very same ridiculous standards. The rest of our time together we spent discussing her future as a teacher. She wanted to teach a theater workshop, possibly like the one they'd all attended. She completely lit up as we talked about it, and looked even more beautiful. She'd bleached her hair a brassy red and kept it in a bun pierced by black chopsticks, while shorter bangs hid most of her forehead. She had slightly chubby cheeks situated high on her face and a smaller jaw, making her almost baby doll like.

When it was time for them to head off to Rico's play, I noticed Ellie looking at me like I was a right bastard. Toni was handing me her number at the time and I can't imagine it looked too good. The whole point was to have a threesome, though, and I'd let Ellie know that soon enough. And Toni knew I was married, so I didn't feel guilty about that, either. In fact, I kept entertaining the image of the three of us in tangled pleasure, as rays of heavenly light fell upon us.

I shot pool at a friend's house while Ellie and her friends sat through the play, and then they ended up going back to the Hilton, the same one where Ellie worked, but forgot to call me. When I got a hold of her it sounded as if she'd already been drinking. No doubt, John, her friend who got her the job, was bartending. He hadn't been at the party earlier, and I could only assume that meant he couldn't get the night off.

John was OK compared to the rest of her entourage. Yeah, he'd probably sang and danced on stage, but he was a big drinker as far as I could tell, which loosened him up some. And he was capable of at least a few sick thoughts, which allowed us to have several conversations about real shit, like Dub music and Jessica Alba's ass.

However, he was the one feeding Ellie drinks at the bar, mainly so he'd have a drinking buddy when it was slow, and I'm not sure how I felt about that. At first it was only the weekends, but a month into the job had her coming home drunk four nights a week. On the upside, she was always ready to fuck on these nights and I socked it to her real nasty with a ton of encouragement on her end. On the downside, I worried about her waiting drunk out in front of the Hilton after midnight for a cab, and where the drinking might eventually lead.

When I arrived she was on the dance floor with some guy I'd never met, dancing to that horrible Sugar Ray song. There'd been a wedding in one of the banquet rooms, and it looked as if the remnants of the party had ended up at the bar.

I took a seat on one of the stools, and just as I'd expected, John was bartending and handed me a beer. He told me it was on Ellie's tab, which meant it was free. It looked like it had been a busy night but things were finally slowing down.

I'd managed to make eye contact with Ellie, yet she continued dancing with this guy and wasn't being at all reserved with her moves. Was this payback I was witnessing? If so, fuck it, I wasn't going to do a damn thing. Besides, I'm not a great dancer and Ellie is, so I always cut her some slack on the dance floor.

With her partner less than a foot away, she waved her hands by her head, occasionally stroking the buzzed area of her hair and down to her neck, with her elbows out to either side, as if to clear the an area for her ass to really do its thing. And her ass did just that. It rose and shook, cut side to side, thrust forward and jerked back, and if my dad were still alive, he'd call it as he saw it, and that being public masturbation.

Hailey and her partner danced beside them, and Hailey matched Ellie move for move. Hailey's partner, however, didn't look nearly as drunk as Ellie's. Ellie's guy was pretty big, dressed in a blue collard shirt that tugged across his chest and navy blue slacks. Big and drunk––smart move Ellie! Sweat had formed under his armpits, so I'm pretty sure he'd been dancing for awhile and wouldn't be keeping up with her much longer. Towards the end of the song, he held his hands off to either side of her at the same level as her hips, and it conjured up the image of bear wading in the river and waiting for his chance to claw up a slippery trout.

And what a trout! Ellie's new dress was made for attracting attention, having a slight elasticity that hugged to every curve, and clung to the underside of her breasts, so the tender, flawless shapes of her B-cups were entirely defined.

Since I'd arrived, they'd danced three dances, and as the third song ended, Ellie turned around and kissed the guy's cheek in a polite thank-you-for-the-dance-but-now-it's-time-to-go kind of way. She then started walking towards the bar.

He, however, had other ideas, and grabbed her arm as he struck up a grand Fred Astaire pose. She chuckled and pointed back over her shoulder with her thumb towards me. Instead of releasing her he reached for her other hand, and when she didn't take it he leaned forward to speak directly into her right ear.

I got up and began walking towards them. I could see she was smiling as he pressed his face to hers, trying to be heard over the music, but her smile wasn't real; it was just her way of keeping things from getting ugly.

He still had a hold of her arm and the size of his hairy fingers on her once again reminded me how small she was. It made me think of her black dress that seemed almost nothing laying on our apartment floor, and Big Luke completely hiding her with his own body from our neighbors. She'd bitten off more than she could chew with this guy, and he was nearly as big as Luke. It looked like she'd agreed to dance one more song, Cake's 'Never There', and they started before I could reach her. Right away he was dancing close enough to make contact with her. I guess this was a last desperate attempt at a seduction, which had clearly been his intent all along.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and yelled that I needed my wife for a minute. He stood back a bit and looked at me confused. I could see his baggy slacks had some life forming in the crotch. That was enough to really piss me off, and a big indicator that this was foreplay to him, not just dancing. His dick had rubbed my wife. In his drunken fucking mind he probably imagined his dick tearing right on through that skimpy four-hundred dollar piece if cloth. I was seriously considering waking that big chump from his dream with something hard of my own––my fist!

Then he peered behind me, seeing something that didn't please him too much. I checked to see what, and there were Robert, the pseudo bad boy who drove a Harley and worked out a lot, and behind him, Hubert, the gay guy. My backup was more humiliating than helpful.

But they both appeared as equally concerned as I, and it dawned on me that Ellie wasn't only getting back at me for talking to Toni, she was also getting back at all her friends for shunning her. This little display of hers was meant to remind us all that she could be a real live wire and still very capable of stealing the show.

Hailey had finally looked up from her dancing daze, and her partner appeared to be positioning himself with the rest of us. Ellie hugged me, and the guy became aware of his position, shook his head to clear it, and apologized to me. Then to Ellie, said, "You're just an awesome dancer. I didn't mean anything." His words were marred by his strained voice, the result of his heated pursuit coming to a shockingly abrupt end, as if someone had popped his fuck-doll mid stroke.

"It's OK," she responded, putting her arm around my waist and grasping my shoulder with her other hand, signaling that I was her one and only man. I then noticed I'd become a bit aroused, myself. There was a strange innocent eroticism about the incident. Oddly enough, the situation felt like a fairytale––spotting a princess being ravished by an ogre, and then stepping in to rescue her––it was pretty fucking hot.

"I didn't mean nothing," the ogre spoke over the music again, and then stopped. "You're just a really good dancer. Thanks!"

When we reached the bar we could hear each other, and we split the last of my beer as she talked about how great the play and Rico were and that I should really go with her one of these days. Then I made the mistake of joking about her choice in dance partners. She quickly asserted that she could handle herself, and then, half playing and half threatening, said, "Well, I was actually thinking about getting us a big muscle bound playmate. He would have been perfect, don't you think?"

I sipped my beer, not about to let her push my button, but I must've looked a little peeved, because John came by right then and said, "Jesus, do you two ever do anything other than fight?"

"Occasionally we watch TV," I said.

"By the way, Ellie, that dress is kickin'. But then I'm sure you've been hearing that all night."

"Actually, no. Other than Pete and Hailey, you're the first to say anything."

"Aw fuck, the entourage is jealous, Ellie, not just of the dress, but because you found someone who isn't going to stargaze in the mirror twenty-four-seven."

"This is why John's a great bartender, people come in here to get drunk on liqueur and end up drunk with words of encouragement."

"And what were the words of encouragement you used on Jocko Homo out on the dance floor?"

"You guys are so messed up! We were dancing. What's wrong with dancing?"

"You're right," he retreated, "There's nothing wrong with a little dancing. Plus, I thought I was finally going to get a chance to use this." He pulled up a little canister of pepper spray from the underside of the bar. "Speaking of which…"

He was looking past us, and then I saw the big guy coming up to join us at the bar. He was polite and tried to apologize once again, slurring that he was just having fun, and wanted everyone to have fun, and dancing was so much fun and she was a really good dancer, she was a really, really good dancer and he thought she was having fun dancing so he just wanted her to have fun and, of course, he didn't mean anything by it.

Ellie asked if her skills as a dancer were worth a shot of tequila, and the guy ended up buying us all a round.

He had a friend with him now, and his friend tried to explain that he really shouldn't drink it. But he didn't listen, and we all drank. John even poured himself one. I decided to make that drink my last because I needed to get us home later, but Ellie had already asked for another round. John explained it couldn't all go on her 'tab' and so she pulled out a twenty and paid.

I declined when she handed mine to me, and so she slid my shot to the big guy. I mentioned to Ellie that she might consider passing, too, saying, "If you really want him to feel it, slide yours over." She was in a fun mood though, and I could see there was no chance of giving up that shot.

John poured a little extra for the guy and after slugging both his and mine back he didn't look too good. The dress Ellie wore had a slight 'V' dip, exposing a bit of cleavage, which the big guy starred directly at, making no attempt to be coy about it. The drink hit his legs first, so he was literally sinking down the bar and inching his face closer to her tits by the second. His friend got him out of there just before he fell, even though he wanted to stay and tell Ellie what a great dancer she is––what a really, really, really great dancer she is.

"God, he's going to wake up a huge pile of shit tomorrow," I said.

"See, I think I can take care of myself fairly well, wouldn't you say?"

"You got a mean streak, girl," John taunted.

"Look who's talking, I saw what you did. His tequila was practically overflowing."

Then a customer showed up so John had to go, and I kidded Ellie some more about dancing with that slob, and what it would actually be like if she'd brought that loser home.

"And who would your pick be, that girl you were talking to at the party?"

"You mean Toni?"

Becoming a bit flustered she said, "That's exactly who I mean. Or maybe you already have that little Jap slut back at our apartment."

Ellie didn't have a raciest bone in her body, just a nasty habit saying the meanest thing she could think of when she felt herself attacked, although, it hardly seemed as if things had escalated to that point. Nonetheless, the word Jap torched my ears and I spit out a little beer in surprise.

John was back and quickly read our faces. "You're fighting again? I can't even leave to help one customer before you guys launch into it."

"It's called foreplay, John. The sex is always better after a good juicy fight."

"OK, but you know the house rules about fighting, right?"

She hit his arm, and admitted to me "I told him about our house rules on fighting, and now he's threatening to put them into practice here."

I didn't quite know what to think about her revealing our little game of arguing in the nude. It was pretty embarrassing.

"She told me you'd dared her to walk around the apartment complex naked, Pete. That's awesome!"

"Oh," Ellie piped up, "I didn't tell you that I bumped into Luke yesterday. He said he didn't recognize me with my clothes on. He was full of corny lines. Like a half hour's worth. It was even more uncomfortable than the other night because I think he was actually flirting with me."

"That's usually when I fall in love," John said, "the instant a woman shows me her tits. But seriously, back to what I was saying, you two always end up in bed after a fight?"

"Yep!" Ellie answered for both of us. Then she looked at me and smiled, "Actually, I think that's the only reason we fight anymore."

I looked back at her in amazement, she was right, and I wondered how she understood this huge facet of our relationship when it had completely eluded me. Hell, it was our relationship. All this time I'd imagined us arguing logic, when in reality we'd been toying with the chemistry behind our arousal. Then from out of nowhere came the image of me nailing her doggie style while I shoved her face into Toni's lovely little snatch. The fact that Ellie played hard to get when talking about a threesome made it even more enticing. And it just sounded as if underneath all her piss and vinegar she might have been feeling the same way.

I quit exploring my epiphany when she started to ask John a question, but continued to look at me as she did so, and somehow I new it was going to be bad. "So, John, what do you think of Toni?"

"Why? Did she say something about me?"

Ellie turned and looked at him in surprise. "No, but why did you ask that?"

"I dunno. It just sounded like maybe that's where you were going."

"You like her, don't you?"

"I…"

"Oh, no you don't! Tell me you do not have a crush on her."

"She's OK, Ellie. She's different since she returned form LA."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said, and then while looking accusingly at me again, "Because I didn't have a chance to talk to her."