Terrible Taste In Tees

"I accept you apology. But, you never answered my questions about your marriage. I find that telling. I may or may not see you for the joint sessions."

................................................

The session with the man was just as unproductive. He kept on about forgiveness.

"Look at it objectively. Sex is just a physical function. You can do it without having an emotional connection. But love, love is the deepest emotion you can ever have. A bond forged, a connection made that reaches to the soul. And Bree does love you. She's having a hard time understanding why you can't recognize that."

He paused, gauging my reaction. I tried my best to keep my face neutral.

"So, what you're saying is love and sex aren't tied to each other?"

"No, no, not at all. Sex can be the ultimate expression of love. It bonds you to your mate."

"What you just said sounds contradictory to me. You can have sex without love and it's just a physical function, but with love it forges a bond? Is that right? So if I make love to Bree and it reaffirms our commitment to each other, and she goes out and fucks someone the next day, it shouldn't weaken that bond, right? Just something to do to pass the time until she comes home to me? I'm starting to seriously rethink my choice in counselors. I'll pose the same question to you I did to your wife. What's your marriage like?

He was distinctly uncomfortable, but I think his wife had prepped him.

"We're not here to talk about my marriage, but to talk about yours. I will say that in our time we've seen couples that have come to unusual solutions to overcome their differences, including 'open' marriages. It takes nothing away from their love for each other. What do you think?"

I laughed.

"I think you're about as full of shit as a six hundred pound man with constipation, and the joint sessions should be really interesting. And you better get her used to the idea that she's not gonna get the result she wants out of this farce."

I stood, the session had ended.

"You have a good afternoon. Go home and make love to your wife. Or your girlfriend, or boyfriend, or group, or animal of your choice. After all it's just a physical act, right? Take this message to Bree. You wanted it, you got it, but the first lie I catch you in, the sessions are done and the paperwork gets filed. Understand?"

Before he could answer I was out the door.

..............................................

I wasn't looking forward to the sessions, but I had a plan. I got it from an unusual place. One of my employees.

I still had the flea market stalls, despite everyone telling me to get rid of them. I kept them for a variety of reasons. I would go and watch the crowd, see what was selling well, what they didn't like much, what they hated. An unknowing focus group.

Plus it gave a job to six locals, mostly college students, many of them art majors. My favorite was Marynell. She hated the name, insisted on going by M. She had worked in the stall since she had started college. I paid her with a check, and gave her ten dollars more an hour under the table. I gave the rest five, sort of my way of sticking it to the man. Hey, college kids are always broke. And I always hired kids that I knew needed the money. They deserved it, and were more loyal.

I always looked forward to seeing M, she never looked the same from one week to the next.

She had inherited a genetic flaw from her mother, receding hair. When she turned eighteen and came to college, she shaved it off, relying on wigs. One week she was a blond, the next a redhead. One weekend it might be a full Afro. The colors and length varied wildly, she once told me she had fifty wigs. Every once in a while she would leave the wig at home, oil her head, and put on enormous earrings.

The fact that she was blacker than coal, built like a Reuben model, six feet four and liked to wear four inch heels made her a force of nature. No one ever tried to steal a shirt in her shop.

When I showed up with five hundred tee shirts to give away, she was impressed.

"Damn, that's hot!" she said, looking at them.

"Where did this idea come from?"

I told her the story.

"Ouch! Sorry my white brother, that has to hurt. What does she think about it?"

"She doesn't know yet. I just found out, and she's away on a shoot/fuckfest. She'll find out when she gets home and I'm not there."

I must have looked miserable. She hugged me so tight I almost suffocated, trapped against her massive chest.

When she let go I grinned.

"Thanks. I almost smothered there, but what a way to go."

She grinned and smacked my ass.

"When you're free, you and me are definitely gonna hook up. I've always wanted you, and I know what you're packing."

"I might take you up on that. I know what you're packing, too."

So, how did it come to pass we knew what each other looked like naked? Easy explanation. I was in the shop going over the weeks' take, giving her her cash, when the phone rang. She talked for a few minutes, said "Damn!" and hung up.

"What's wrong?" I asked, out of politeness.

"Damn model cancelled. Don't know where we'll get one by class tomorrow."

"Maybe I can help. I know a lot of models, I might can get one for you."

"Wouldn't work, Chris, but thanks. We'd have to pay and we don't have the money. We usually rely on each other, but there's no men in our class. I doubt if they would do it when they find out they'd have to be naked."

I grinned, and surprised the shit out of her.

"I don't have a lot on my schedule tomorrow. I can spare a few hours. What time?"

Shocked, she looked at me.

"You did hear me say naked, right? As much as I've wondered what you look like, I can't ask you to do that."

"Honey, did I ever tell you where I go on vacation? I'd hazard a guess more people have seen me naked over the last few years than a lot of porn stars. I have no problem getting naked."

So the next day, I walked into her class wearing a robe and a smile, while nine women smiled nervously.

"Let me guess, first time with a live model?"

Before they could answer, I dropped the robe.

"Let's get started. You only have fifty minutes."

So I spent the time getting moved into different positions. It gave me a new appreciation of Bree, holding a position for fifteen or more minutes at a time isn't as easy it looks. The last twenty minutes the instructor asked for a volunteer to pose for couple sketches. Seven volunteered.

M told them she'd slap the first bitch that got naked, she brought me, she got to do it. So for the next fifteen minutes we posed together. She'd rub up against me unnecessarily as often as possible, and despite myself I started to react.

"Enough!" I said, grabbing my robe.

The women almost died laughing while M smacked my ass.

"Nice equipment, for a white boy."

I smacked her naked ass back, she hadn't redressed.

"Great ass, for any color."

It became a semiregular thing. The art professor would call me if she couldn't get anyone else. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. I never told anyone, although we were walking down the street one day and one of the students came up giggling and told Bree how lucky she was.

"What was that all about?"

"One of M's friends. I help out at the college once in a while."

She thought I was talking about donating supplies.

"You're so sweet. We should do something together for them sometime."

The thought of Bree and I holding positions while the women sketched gave me an instant boner. We went straight home.

................................................

When my show came up, I had M as a guest.

J, Amy, his mom and dad, and Leslie were there, as well as Jay Gold, My divorce lawyer, and Sherry.

M wanted to come, but said she didn't have a dress and couldn't afford to get one. I handed her a credit card.

"That's why it's so nice to be rich. Get a dress, shoes, appropriate jewelery. Spend a day at the spa. I'd really like you to come."

It's kind of funny seeing such a big, self possessed woman cry and say she couldn't. But she kept a death grip on the card.

The show was in the capitol, a sort of salute to state artists. The museum director was there, hustling us to donate a painting. Champagne flowed, while the guests mingled and admired the art.

M stayed close to me, a little intimidated. I know every male in the place stopped and stared when we made an entrance. White dress setting off her dark skin, the neckline low enough to give a glimpse of her impressive breasts, the back plunging almost to that magnificent bubble butt.

She had on stockings. Had to be thigh highs, I'd have bet my company she didn't have on panties, judging by the way the dress stretched tightly across her butt. Silver bracelets on each arm, with a matching necklace and dangling earrings. She had decided to forgo a wig, and her bald head glowed in the muted lighting.

I saw Leslie frown when she saw us. When Jay cornered her about being a model for his comic book heroine's sidekick, she was on me.

"Replacement for Bree?"

It caught me by surprise. It had been five months, but I still hadn't thought about another woman.

"No, she works for me at the flea market. She's an art major, and we've become friends. I thought she might enjoy this, she has limited income and doesn't get opportunities like this."

She relaxed, taking my arm.

"Good. It's too soon, you're still in mourning. Introduce me."

So I took her over and introduced her to M. I didn't think much about it, I saw them together later, laughing.

Jay and Don came up.

"Damn, I thought there was gonna be a catfight there for a minute."

"What?"

Don laughed.

"You don't have a clue, do you? Leslie wants you, so does that ebony goddess. Be careful, man, don't mix business and pleasure."

"Again, what?"

J jumped in.

"Come on, man. You're young, well off, and about to be single. Plus you've got the artist thing going for you, and you're decent looking. Hell, if I was gay, I'd do you."

They were snickering, looking at my face. Ron jumped in. I never knew he was gay.

"He's right. If you weren't my client, I'd be all over you. I bet I could make a switch hitter out of you in no time."

Les and M came up, snuggled to each side of me, noting my glowing face.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing much, just trying to get Chris to change teams."

They caught on immediately, said "NO!" in unison, and burst into giggles.

"Hey, I'm not just a piece of meat, you know."

M swatted my butt, then Les. Not to be out done, Ron did the same.

"Keep saying that, honey. You might just start believing it."

Leslie reached up and kissed my cheek. M leaned down and kissed the other. I looked at Ron.

"Well?"

He grabbed my head and kissed me right in the mouth. Tried to slide his tongue in. By now my whole group was around me, and they died laughing. I'm sure we were the hit of the show.

We had reserved several suites at a local hotel. Piling into limos, most of us a bit wobbly, we retired to our rooms. M and Leslie stayed with me, I had more than enough space.

I passed out gracefully, and they put me to bed.

I woke up about four in the morning, my bladder about to burst. I staggered into my bathroom, and heard some interesting noises. I peeked out of the bedroom, noticing a trail of clothes leading to the other bedroom. The door was open and I could hear squeals and moans. I smiled as I closed my door.

I had always thought Leslie was gay until Texas. Guess she was a switch hitter after all. Surprised me about M, but you never knew.

Breakfast was interesting the next morning. I was up way earlier, got cleaned up, ordered brunch, and when it was almost due to arrive I knocked on their door.

"Wakey, wakey, lovebirds! Time to rejoin the living. Brunch in ten."

I heard them moving around, whispering. They staggered out just after breakfast was delivered, in hotel robes. All their clothes were in the living area. They wouldn't look me in the eye, mumbling thanks as I served them coffee and juice.

I was in a very good mood.

"So, girls, sleep well? I did, in my big lonely bed."

Les finally showed a spark.

"Too bad. We'd have shared it if you asked, it's just lucky we had each other for comfort and consolation. You should have called Ron. I'm sure he'd have cured your lonliness."

I smacked my head in mock surprise.

"Now you tell me. I feel such a fool."

It broke us down into laughter.

I got serious.

"I'm glad you two hooked up. Is it going anywhere?"

Les took M by the hand.

"We'll see. Maybe we'll use each other until you get your head on straight. Take you vitamins. When you're ready, we're first in line, and we mean both of us, understand?"

M was nodding her head in agreement.

"First. I promise."

They kissed me. They hadn't showered yet. I leaned back and licked my lips. They went red when I said, "Mmmm. I prefer the taste fresher, and from the source, of course, but still, really tasty."

They threw pillows out me, shrugged out of their robes, and went into the bathroom, holding hands. Les called over her shoulder, saying they would be happy to have their backs washed. I politely declined. M stuck her tongue out and slapped Leslie on the ass. "Your loss," she said as they closed the door.

Leslie was five feet tall and Asian. M was six four and black. The contrast was quite erotic.

................................................

I thought about it for two weeks. If I wanted to sleep with somebody, why should it matter? I wasn't going back to Bree, she had slept with untold numbers of people while we were still married. Who knows how many she'd fucked since we split. I owed her nothing. It had been six months since the last time I had made love, with Bree, and it wasn't all that memorable.

I walked into Leslie's office and closed the door.

"Let me tell you about the latest idea I have for a shirt. Another in the Eros line."

He face morphed from surprise to joy. She called M, put her on conference, and told her the idea. She almost blew our eardrums out with her whoop of agreement.

I set it up in my studio, I had five cameras at different heights and angles around the set, ready to go.

"Are you sure about this?"

They both nodded eagerly.

"All right then. Before we start, I want you to know, this is not meaningless. I care for both of you, and I hope the emotion shows on film. That being said, be gentle, this will be the first time in six months for me."

Three hours later I was totally exhausted. I made love to them individually first at my request, then they made love, and finally I was between them. I don't know how many orgasms they had, but It was a record for me, four. I was actually sore and my balls ached a little.

We showered together and watched the tapes. They got so horny they had another go while I edited. Then they dragged me back, alternated mouths until I rose to the occasion, and then rode me to a few more orgasms before I erupted. Air, I think. There was nothing else left.

After they left, I lay back down on the huge bed I had set up, enjoying the smell as I took a long nap.

..............................................

I bounced into the last counseling session with a smile on my face. It was almost over.

It had been an interesting series. Bree continued to tell me how much she loved me, while more and more details about her lovers emerged.

It got really deep when I asked her about our early years.

"You slipped into cheating on me so easily, Bree. It makes me wonder, you were modeling while we courted, and modeled for a year afterwards before you quit. Were you sleeping with other people then?"

She looked down. That told me all I needed to know.

"Just every once in a while. Again, it didn't mean anything, just a way to take the edge off."

That was it, the grand finale. I stood.

"I'm done. You cheated on me before we married, You cheated on me after we married, I'm wondering about the years between, when you didn't model. Were you faithful then?"

"Absolutely. It wasn't cheating, Chris. Please understand. It was just something we did. It didn't mean anything. Nobody got hurt."

"Gee, Bree, walk me through this. Brandon lost his wife, Shannon lost her boyfriend, Michelle lost her husband. I lost you. I have no idea what Mr. Big Dick and his agency went through. Do you really think it doesn't matter?"

Before she could answer I carried on.

"It's a moot point. I still love you, but I don't trust you, and really don't respect you. You risked both our lives for something that didn't mean anything to you. Well guess what? It meant something to me. We're done Bree. Sleep with who you want, when you want. You won't have to worry about me, not that you ever did. Move on, girl. I have."

I handed some shirts to the counselors and Bree.

"Here. A goodbye gift. Please don't use me for a reference. I think you're pathetic. I love you Bree, just not enough."

I walked out, hearing Bree scream.

................................................

The shirts? One of me with M, one with Leslie. One of them together. One of us all entwined.

White on black. White on yellow. Black on yellow. All of us together. They were very erotic.

Me on top of M, my hands cupping those amazing breasts. Me entwined with Leslie, her long hair cascading over my chest as she rode me. M with her head tossed back in passion as Leslie sucked on her nipple while they were on their knees, her supple bottom enhanced with M's black hand gripping it. I almost got an erection when I saw the finished product, remembering how the images came to be.

You could see my face. You could see M's face. But all you saw of Leslie was her body and long black hair. I did it deliberately, even though she said she didn't mind.

"There might come a time when you move on, Les. I hope it doesn't, but I don't want this to bite you on the ass if it happens. All right?"

She saw the wisdom, and agreed.

.................................................

Bree called two days after the last session.

"How could you? We'll never get back together if you're fucking those sluts."

"Bree, we're never getting back together. At least I waited until after we were done, and there was no chance I'd ever give you a gift that keeps on giving. Start over, Bree. You're still young, beautiful, you have a job that gives you a good living. And if you find someone, respect him enough to tell him what you expect out of a relationship."

She was crying, I could hear it, but her voice was clear.

"I fucked up. I get it, I really do. And I know I have to let you go. But, Chris, I want you to know, we'll never be over. We'll always love each other. Somewhere down the line, when you're over the hurt, I'll get you back. And I'll be the best wife in the universe, I promise."

I felt bad for her. For the first time I think she might have realized what she threw away. I gave her a little comfort. And I told the truth.

"I'll always love you, Bree. Who knows, stranger things have happened. But right now, you need to give me space. Let's rebuild our lives, I think we're both stronger people than we were before. I have to go now, Bree."

She was still crying when I hung up.

.................................................

It was what I wanted. No, that's wrong. What I wanted was a loyal and faithful Bree. This was what I had to have. My friends decided they needed to do something to get me out of my depression.

Leslie walked into my office and threw something on my desk. M was with her.

"What's this?"

"Your unscheduled holiday. We leave Wednesday and don't come back until Tuesday. All our friends are coming along. Prepare to be pampered, coddled, spoiled, you pick a word, it's all about you. Oh, and we intend to try our best to fuck you senseless in the process."