BBC - Little White Lies Ch. 03

1

The next morning, Davina finds Raoul on his back porch, overlooking the ocean. He's reading a newspaper, snacking on strawberries.

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," he says. "I'll be having lunch soon, in case you'd like to join me."

"What was last night all about?"

She's determined to confront him. She'd cried herself to sleep, angry and confused. He might be the most perfect man she'd ever seen, but she would not let him treat her like that.

"What do you mean?"

"You did all that just to bother me."

Raoul shrugs. "Charlie's just noisy."

"Actually, I didn't mind that."

"I know."

"But then you wanted me to..."

"What?"

"Rub your..."

"What?"

"Your..."

"My semen?"

"Yes."

"On your tits."

"Yes."

Wait, she thinks. Had he said anything about her tits last night? Her ungovernable heart leaps at the idea that he was thinking of her tits. Of course he was, she knew he was, but to hear it from him excites her anyway.

"No. I thought you might want to do that yourself."

"Oh." What the hell?

"I was just trying to be nice. But then I realized that maybe David wouldn't like it. So, too bad."

He pops a strawberry in his mouth.

She needs time to think of her response, to re-plan her campaign, so she sits in a chair a few steps away from the table.

"Of course I would really like to rub my cum on your tits sometime," he adds when he's swallowed his strawberry. "With some fresh cum, of course, not from a condom." He takes a drink of coffee. "But we can't do anything like that until David feels better."

He looks back at the paper, already chewing another strawberry.

She can't look at him. She has to try to keep her thoughts straight.

"I thought you were..."

"What?"

"No, it doesn't make sense."

He just goes on reading, so when she finds her words, she continues.

"Like, trying to torture me or something."

"Torture?"

She feels him looking at her.

"Never mind."

"If you don't want me to do it, I won't do it."

"It's not that."

"So you don't mind? Because I can think of several ways..."

"No, it's not that either. Wait — several ways?"

"Yes."

She blinks at him for a moment.

It's a mistake. As soon as she feels the warmth of his attention on her, she's helpless again. She has to look away.

"I just don't understand what's happening," she whines.

"It's like this is," he explains in a very businesslike matter. "You're hot. Sizzling, smoking, hot. Pretty face, nice figure. Incredible breasts. Incredible. So I like you. In fact, I even want to fuck you. In at least two ways, maybe more. And what's more, you've made it clear that you like me and would like to fuck me too. So I would very much like to seduce you and give you the good, hard, very naughty fucking that you deserve."

"Wow." Davina, seeming to feel every emotion all at once, can't think of anything else to say before he continues:

"Yeah. But unfortunately, as you know, it's not possible," he shrugs. "So, lunch?"

"Wait, what?"

"Would you like to join me for lunch?"

"No. Not that."

"Would dinner be better for you?"

"No, goddamn it. Shut up. That other part, about you like me, you want to..."

"To fuck you?"

"Yeah. And... but you can't? What?"

"That's right. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Your husband, David, is my friend. I can't do that to him. I've explained that several times now."

"But we're barely even... He kicked me out of his house last night. He told me he's divorcing me. We're practically divorced."

"Even if you were completely and officially divorced, I will not be able to fuck you until David says it's okay."

"So David gets to tell you who you can and cannot fuck?"

"In your case, yes."

"Well, why won't he let you fuck me?"

"Because he's in love with you, of course."

"Yeah but... No, he's not in love with me. What?"

"He is very madly in love with you and hurt very badly by the fact that you have cheated on him."

"But he cheated on me first! And with one of my best friends!"

"Are you still friends with her?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Do you suppose David could be as friendly with your lovers as you are with his?"

"What's your point?"

"He cares. You don't. He loves you, and you don't love him, and that hurts him."

Davina can only shake her head. She looks away, hoping that she'll be able to think more clearly, to argue more effectively, if she doesn't actually see how fucking beautiful he is.

"Well then why did he practically give me to you last night then."

"He didn't. He specifically asked me not to sleep with you. Again, that's our whole problem."

She puts her hand on her forehead and closes her eyes.

"Yes, but he had to know..."

"He trusts me," Raoul cuts her off. "And I don't intend to betray him. "Anyway, did you mean to say that you're not available for lunch? I think there's still time for you to change."

"What?"

"I'm still trying to find out whether you will have lunch with me."

"Oh. Yes. I don't know. Change what?"

"Your clothes."

"For lunch?"

He nods.

"Are we going out?"

"No, it'll just be you and me, here. But," he looked her over, "You can't wear that."

"This? Why not?"

She'd intentionally chosen the least sexy clothing she'd brought along, somehow thinking that might help her concentrate.

But now, of course, she felt like shit.

"Come on. You've got to wear something sexier than that. Surely you've got something shorter, or tighter, or shorter and tighter."

She looked at him. If he wasn't so fucking cute, she would literally throw a shoe at him. Or a knife.

That's one of the things about Raoul. To be honest, it annoys me sometimes, and I'm only the narrator.

He's so fucking cute.

First of all, as we've been over, he's so huge that everyone just naturally has a submissive attitude towards him.

But then he's cute too. He gets a mischievous little look on his face and no one can stay mad at him. And he knows it, so he's so goddamned cheeky.

Pisses me off sometimes. And like I said, I'm only the fucking narrator.

Davina was having this problem right at that moment. She wanted him to fear that she was angry, but she knew he never would. She knew he'd look at her with a twinkle in his eye and say something charming and she would betray herself with a giggle and it'd all come to nothing.

She had no leverage, no way of getting any leverage. A man who could be so indifferent to her beauty was just forever beyond her power.

And the truth was, of course, she was madly in love with him. He didn't deserve it, at all, but that never matters in love.

And he was perfectly well aware of her feelings, and she knew that no denials would be persuasive.

Which was another problem. Everyone was always in love with Raoul. I get tired of it, and you will too. But let's see how things work out for Davina.

"I'll think about it," she huffed, and turned to storm off.

"Think fast," he called after her. "Starts in about twenty minutes."

2

She showed up for lunch in something shorter and tighter.

She'd thought about it as fast and hard as she could. Should she defy him and wear the clothes she already had on?

Or should she try to make him want her?

After all, she could tease him too.

Davina had, at least since adolescence, always been the hottest girl. When she was on a field trip in seventh grade, an adult man, thinking she was one of the teachers, asked her out. In eighth grade, a high school senior asked her to the prom. In high school, the quarterback of the football team nicknamed her "Titantit," like the ship.

She had always had any man she wanted, when and where and how she wanted him. Sure, almost all women hated her, at least a little, but men and boys who had no actual chance with her served her like a queen.

So his frank impudence had no precedent in her experience. It was maddening, and it had to be punished. Back in "her room" — the nursery — where she could think relatively clearly, she determined that he had to be humbled.

The rest of the nonsense, about David and all that, she would deal with later. The first thing was to humble him.

Unfortunately, she'd only packed a few things, hastily shoved into her suitcase the night before, so she didn't have anything really sexy. The best she could do was a low cut pink tank top, nice thin material, and she could wear it without a bra.

Everyone said she had the greatest tits ever. And they were natural, too. No one would believe it, but fuck them.

Also, she was annoyed that he hadn't said anything about her ass yet. Most guys thought she had a great ass, and she wondered if he'd noticed it.

Or maybe he didn't even like it, she worried.

Unfortunately, she'd already worn her leopard print skirt, which was the best thing she had with her for showing off her ass, but it wouldn't go with the tank top anyway, and the tank top was more important.

Some tight denim shorts were the best she could do. If they weren't good enough for him, she thought, then fuck him.

Fuck him. And not in the good way.

When she was dressed, she checked herself in the mirror. She considered cutting the shorts shorter — but that was the point at which she realized that she was going too far.

She had just enough dignity left not to cut up her clothing to try to please him.

No, she reminded herself, she was not trying to please him — she intended to humble him.

Anyway, she had no scissors.

Which, when she realized it, disappointed her.

She would've at least liked to have the option of cutting her shorts shorter. At least so the bottom of her buttcheeks showed...

3

As soon as she walked into the dining room, he raised an eyebrow, looked her over from head to toe, and frowned his appreciation with a nod.

Oh, to be in love, for even this little recognition thrilled her. She felt it throughout her body.

But she reminded herself: humble him.

"Korean food today," he said. "You like it?"

"No."

"That's too bad. I have Korean food almost everyday for lunch. Or Japanese. Healthiest foods in the world."

She sat down.

"What is all this?"

He pointed with chop sticks.

"Kimchi. Fermented cabbage. Other fermented stuff. The names don't matter. Even Koreans often don't know. But it's good. You'll like it once you get used to it."

Using a fork to stab a thick piece of something that didn't look too strange, she took a nibble to taste it.

"I don't think so."

"You're cute when you're disgusted," he teased. "I like the way your nose wrinkles. You should take a big bite."

She felt herself blush, but she put down the fork.

"Is there any normal food?"

"This is normal food. I eat this almost every day. Koreans eat it literally every day."

"You know what I mean."

"American food?"

"Or something like that."

"Why don't you order yourself a pizza?"

"Ugh. It would go straight to my hips." This was a tactic on her part. Notice my hips, damn it, she thought.

"Probably wouldn't hurt. You should order two in case you don't like dinner either."

"Probably wouldn't hurt?" she exploded. She was feeling vulnerable on that point, and he'd just stuck his finger right on it. "Seriously? Are you fucking insulting my ass?"

He barely looked surprised.

"No, I like your ass. There's a lot of fun things I'd like to do with your ass. I just don't think one pizza would have that much of an effect."

She looked at him, flattered and hurt at the same time. Confused, conflicted. She wanted to leave. She wanted to throw sharp objects at him.

"Calm down," he said, gesturing with his chopsticks. "You're hot. Stop worrying about it."

For a moment, she actually thought, "Maybe I'll burn down his house." She looked around. The whole thing was wood. She started to wonder how she could get some gasoline or something inside and realized she really did need to calm down.

If he was going to drive her to thoughts like that, she'd leave.

But she couldn't leave. Most women who knew Raoul would literally murder their own mothers to have the opportunity she had at that moment.

She just had to go on. She knew she could seduce him. She knew she was hot enough.

And he kept saying things that would usually mean that she had him. He liked her tits. He wanted to do "fun things" with her ass. He said she had a pretty face.

But he was also doing everything he could to piss her off.

And it had something to do with David.

4

"Alright," she sighed. "Can we have a serious talk?"

He only blinked. His mouth was full of something.

So she waited. He tilted his head and looked at her quizzically while he chewed. Finally — after only two or three seconds — she ran out of patience.

"Alright. The thing is, if David is out of the way, then what?"

He nodded thoughtfully while he finished chewing.

"By 'out of the way' I assume you mean that he says he doesn't care whether I fuck you."

"Yes." Lots of times, she added silently.

"That may not happen for a long time, but when it does, if you still want to fuck me, and I still want to fuck you, then we'll fuck."

"Are you treating me so..." she had to search for the right word, "... horribly on purpose?"

And as she said it, to her own horror, she burst out crying.

But once she'd started, she couldn't stop. She put her arm on the table, and rested her face on it, and bawled.

When she could finally speak, she raised up.

"I mean, I'm sorry about what I did to David, okay? But I didn't do it on purpose. And it doesn't give you the right to, to, to..."

She was waving her hand wildly, trying to find the word.

"Humiliate?" he offered.

"Yes! Exactly! To humiliate me! And by the way," she was finally ready for the confrontation, worked up into a suitable rage, "what you did last night was wrong! It was wrong! It was completely inappropriate and I do not appreciate it!"

She was prepared for a fight, but he just nodded and looked at the food.

"You're right."

"What?"

"It was inappropriate, and I'm sorry. I've been feeling bad about it, actually."

There it was! Leverage! Now what would she do with it?

She put her face back on the table and wept some more. This was not how she'd hoped to act, but whatever. She felt so stupid.

Little did she know, Raoul really was feeling uncomfortable, maybe even guilty, about the situation. He'd didn't like David's idea of humiliating her. He'd hoped it would be harmless fun, but now he could see it wasn't harmless at all.

Why couldn't David just divorce her with decency? Why not just fight it out in court? Why should Raoul be involved at all?

Last night he'd pitied David, and he still did. And he could see that, sure enough, Davina had little or no remorse for what she'd done to him.

But Raoul thought of himself as a man who protects women from the patriarchy, not a man who enforces the patriarchy. He remembered once, when he'd failed to defend a woman, and it'd had horrible, horrible, horrible consequences...

This was nothing like that. But he needed to be more compassionate, at least, even to this air-headed little gold-digger bawling her heart out in his dining room.

Finally she looked up again. Her tears and makeup were now just stripes and smudges all over her face.

But she could finally see, she thought, some sympathy in his face, so she felt an urge to hurt him.

"I guess you're happy now," she snapped.

"No. In fact, I hope that before this is over there is some way that I can make that up to you."

"You can just... be nice to me. Why don't you just be nice to me?"

"Okay, that's a deal. I will. If you can forgive me for what I've been doing to you, I will be nice to you from now on."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Starting from right now?"

"Right now."

"Okay."

She did not know what to do next. She wiped her face with a napkin.

"I must look like shit now," she complained.

He laughed. "Have you seen your tits lately? You look fine."

"No, my face."

"I know, but your face looks fine too. I only look at it when you're looking at me, but it's fine."

His charm was working, and she decided to just let it work. She needed to feel better about herself, and that's all she had at the moment.

"He likes my tits," she thought. "At least he likes my tits."

"So first of all, if you really don't like this," he indicated the food, "do you have anything particular in mind?"

"Salad?"

"Sure. Any particular kind of salad?"

"No. Just, not too much dressing on it, please."

"Okay."

"Mrs. Fairfax," he called.

"Yes, sir," a reply came from the hall and a woman Davina hadn't seen before came into the dining room. She must've been overhearing everything. But Davina was beyond caring.

"Can we get her a salad?"

"Of course." She turned to Davina. "What would you like on it, honey? We have almost anything you would want."

She was a sweet, southern woman and her kindness meant so much to Davina at that moment.

"Thank you," she said. "Just normal stuff. Tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers."

"We have some fantastic balsamic vinegar and oil, fine artisanal stuff from Italy. How about that?"

"That'd be so nice."

"How about some feta cheese? Or any kind of cheese. We have some real nice cheese."

"Do you have regular cheese?"

"How about some mild cheddar?"

"Sure."

"I'll get it right up for you, honey."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Fairfax disappeared and she turned to Raoul.

"So let's talk about your situation with David," he said.

5

"Yes."

"I think you may be fucked."

"What?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, okay?"

"Accusing me?"

"No. I'm just telling you what, for example, David's lawyers might say."

"His lawyers?"

"Yes."

The "emotional roller-coaster" of the morning had worn her out. She felt all emptied-out. She could only listen.

"Okay."

"Okay. It looks like you set David up with your friend."

Davina could not respond to that.

"Whether you did that or not, it looks like you did that to trigger something in the prenup. Now, I haven't seen the prenup, so I don't know."

"Did David tell you this?"

"No. I'm literally only guessing. I know absolutely nothing."

She thought for a while. Suddenly everything — all of Raoul's cruel teasing, and, well, that was everything, but it'd seemed so horrible and suddenly it seemed insignificant.

Instead, now, she felt her entire future being snatched away.

"And, what if...?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm not a lawyer, or a judge. But it might void something in the prenup. And frankly, if it's a judgement call, on the judge's part, well, the judge is more likely to be a wealthy old man who sympathizes with another wealthy old man than a beautiful young woman who sympathizes with another beautiful young woman."

"Oh shit," she thought.

Love. Her financial future.

While Mrs. Fairfax brought in her salad, they both sat silently.

"Can I get you anything else?" Mrs Fairfax asked. Davina could only shake her head.

When she stepped back out, Davina asked, "What can I do?"

"I don't know for sure. But if I were you, I would try to make amends with David."

"No."

"I don't mean go back to him. I mean, apologize. Try to make him not feel so bad. And hopefully he won't call the wrath of the state down on your head."

"The wrath of the state," she repeated. The part she cared about, of course, was that she might not be getting the money.