Charlotte

"Not if I knew he was your husband." She looked off over my shoulder. I didn't look for what had her attention because I suspected what was coming next. "That's a lie." She said plainly. "I fucked my best friends husband. For like a year. I didn't give a shit. That's bad isn't it? That won't make your book, will it?"

"I don't know yet."

"I have to tell you about it now, don't I?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"You are a shitty interviewer."

"I know."

"I was still married to my first husband. I was young but that didn't matter. She was my best friend. We worked together. We drank together. We started all hanging out together. Knowing what I know now, I should have just gotten us all drunk or stoned or something and we could have just swapped, swinger style. That's not how it happened though."

"No."

"No. I don't know exactly what happened first. He was good looking, my first husband, well, he aged hard in only a couple years. He drank too much beer and ate too much fried food. Shit, I was fat then too. Her husband wasn't. Scott was sweet and tall and had a chin dimple. I knew I was going to fuck him before he did but he was the one to make the move."

"How?" I couldn't help but think of my own affair. Staring into his eyes desperate for him to make a move.

"We were all drinking. All four of us were in this fancy wine bar and he looked over at me as if no one else was there and said I should go to the bar and get shots. It was something in his eye. I looked back at him as if no one else was there and said okay. I told you I was heavier then, didn't I? I had this one pair of nice jeans, expensive ones, with the embossed pockets in back and big bell bottoms."

"I remember."

"They sat really low. I knew my G string was showing but I think that was the point."

"Yeah, yeah" I wanted her to get to the good part. It was odd for me. I was the reader, not the writer.

"I came back and set down four shots. I remember my friend, my husband, they were like, 'what the hell.' but it was like they weren't there. Andy, I'm going to call him Andy looked right back at me. 'We need beers, don't we?' Crap, okay, I went back to the bar and brought back four beers. I sat down and we toasted and did our shots and drank beer. Eventually my friend wanted to smoke. My husband went with her. I said I had to pee but would be out in a minute. Andy said he would watch our chairs. When they were gone he looked back at me. He wanted me. I told you I already knew I was going to fuck him. He asked why I hadn't gone to pee. I asked if he wanted me to leave. He said not especially but he liked to watch me walk away. I told him to follow me. He said what about the table, I said screw the table."

"In the bathroom?"

"No, the kitchen. The busboys got a show."

"Shit."

"I know. Fucking hot, right."

"They didn't know?"

"So, I always figured she knew. You know how women are. She never said anything. We were pretty careful after that. He was in hospitality so he had a friend at a local resort. We would score rooms that were out of service. They would be like, half decorated, or have the bathrooms torn apart. There were never sheets on the bed but we would meet at lunch and fuck and then run back to work. It was dirty and cheap and awful and I couldn't stop. I think that's why my shrink decided I was a sex addict."

"It went on for a year?"

"Almost exactly. We started and ended right at Halloween."

"How did it end?" I knew. I could see the sad look on my husbands face when my affair ended.

"We got sloppy. My husband got suspicious. He followed me. He caught us in the parking lot."

"And you got divorced?"

"Yeah."

"But not your friend?

"No. She... She had a kid. We never talked about it. I don't know if she ever knew, I think she just ignored it to stay married."

"But you aren't friends anymore?"

"No. She still wanted to hang out, just us, but I blew her off enough she stopped asking."

I was quiet. I wanted to know more. "It feels like it's missing an ending. Once you were divorced, you didn't see him anymore?"

"Not regularly. I mean, I could actually date anyone I wanted to. It was nice to have sheets on the bed."

"I just told mine never to call me again." It just felt so similar. I felt like I was sobering up.

"It's easy when they are married. You have all the control. They are so bold when they are getting you into bed and then after they blow their load they are just terrified of what you are going to do."

"Power. Sex is power." I am so wise when I am shitfaced.

"I want your power." She said to me. Her eyes, fuck, those eyes.

"I've got to pee." I think I ran. I skirted past the man at the bar thinking about him on top of me. I passed the bartender, I young woman with fake tits or a really good bra and I thought about her and what she would look like naked. I was sweating. I made it to the women's room. I groped for a stall and fell to my knees. I emptied my stomach. I think I was crying. I went to the sink and washed up. Most of my makeup was gone. I had left my purse. I did feel better. I still had to pee. I picked a different stall and closed the door.

I heard the door to the women's open and slam shut. I didn't hear a stall open or a sink run and I knew who it was. I finished and buttoned my jeans. I straightened my shirt, I want to say pushing my chest up was subconscious but it wasn't. The last think I thought before opening the stall was that I'm not into women.

She was adjusting her lipstick. Directly I saw the long waved of hair draped over her pale freckled skin. In the mirror I saw her lips, her eyes, and her delicate finger touching the corner of her mouth. She turned as I stepped out.

"You okay?"

"Too many shots."

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. Really? That's not what I meant though."

"No?" Do it, I told myself, just fucking do it.

"No." She touched her fingers to my cheek. They were so soft and gentle.

"What did you mean?" I asked quietly. I wanted to say something else but I didn't know just what. She was so close. So fucking close.

"Just before you ran off. I said..."

All I had to do was lean forward. She was really only inches away. We were so similar in height it just worked. Before she had gotten her sentence out my lips were on hers. Her mouth was soft and slick with lipstick and she was everything I didn't like about kissing women and it was delicious. Her hand was on my side and I reached out for her, my hands finding her hips. Our lips moved slowly. My heart raced. My legs were weak, her tongue reached out for mine and I moved my hands up her body and my fingers found bare cool flesh beneath her loose top. Her breasts, I thought of her breasts and how they had teased me all evening each time she bent down and my fingers sought them out. My right hand, I felt her breast fill my right hand, her nipple was small but firm. I was nervous; it was the same nervousness that had gripped me that first time I knew I was going to give myself to a boy. It was the nervousness I felt the first time my husband shared me. My heart raced like I did when I first snuck away to bed a lover behind my husbands back. I gave myself to her. I took her. I took her with my mouth and my body. I lowered my lips to her pale neck, I took a handful of her hair in my free hand, I felt her hands on my back and I resented my shirt and bra.

"I thought you didn't like women." She said quietly in my ear.

"Shh!" I silenced her firmly. "Sit. Sit on the counter." I told her.

I kissed her again, she opened her legs and I stood between them, the long skirt crept up her legs. She bent down to kiss me deeply and now I resented her shirt. My hands moved up her thighs. She had sweet soft thighs, I felt a hint of stubble and I was again faced with the womanliness of her. I identified with her. I heard her when she spoke. I shaved with her. I had been fucked by men like her.

I lowered myself to my knees. The tile was hard and my knees felt the sharpness of it. Women could fuck through pain. I raised her skirt higher and she lifted her ass for me. I raised it higher and exposed her. I felt her fingers in my hair. Soft, thin gentle, fingers pulled my hair back gently. I tasted her. I wanted her. I wanted her to want me. I wanted to please her.

She sighed as my tongue touched her.

"You're so gentle." She said softly. I teased her lips with my tongue and teeth. She sighed when it was good and I repeated it. My tongue danced where I knew it should. "Slowly, lover. Slowly." I listened and adapted and she sighed more and I felt her fingers pull me into her. "There." She whispered, her legs rising from the marble countertop, she pulled me in and let I myself go.

"Oh, there." She said. She helped, her hand and fingers joining my tongue and lips, she pulled her skirt away and she held herself open to me and I licked her. Delicate red hairs tickled my nose. She rocked to and fro on the counter and I imagined what it would be to fuck her. I found myself wishing I had a cock to that I could fill her. My tongue moved more quickly. I wanted to hear her come for me. I wanted to hear her call out my name and grasp at my hair in ecstasy. Her belly shook and I knew she was there. I pressed my tongue firmly to her, my hands on her thighs holding her open. I felt her legs tremble and she cried out, a deep guttural cry, I thought of a she-wolf, or a bear. I held my tongue just on the tip of her. When she went quiet I would move it, once or twice, short quick strokes of my tongue I knew would make it roll over her longer. She would groan again. I felt fingernails in my scalp.

"Stop. Oh god, stop, my lover." She said quietly. I stopped for her. I sat back on my legs, kneeling before her.

"You've done that before." She said, her legs still open in front of me. I looked at the soft pink folds I had just made love to wanting more of it. She pressed her hands in closed fists down between her legs. She shuddered a little.

"A little."

"Come here." She said. She slid forward on the counter wrapping her legs around me as she kissed me again. She kissed me deeply, her tongue dancing over my lips, she suckled at my chin and it excited me. The idea she was cleaning me excited me and fuck my pussy was aching for her.

"What's your name?" I whispered. I realized I was begging.

"What are you going to call me in the book?"

"I don't know yet. What do you want to be called?" She was massaging my breast and suckling at my neck.

"I don't want to prejudice you." Lets go. I need a drink.

"Really?"

"I have an addictive personality. I think I am an alcoholic too."

I followed her out of the bathroom and took up my spot at our table. My purse was still there, I can't believe I didn't even think of it. I watched her from a distance. She flirted with the man at the bar. She came back with our drinks. No shots this time. I bummed another cigarette and drank half my beer at once.

"You come up with a name yet?"

"No. Fuck. I think I'm drunk. I can't think straight."

"Look." She was suddenly serious. "Don't make excuses for what you just did. Maybe the booze made it easier but it was your choice, you wanted it, you took it. A slut doesn't make excuses."

"I'm not..."

"Sure you are." She smiled a little but it was not the welcoming sweet smile she had used to seduce me. "Own up to it. You're a slut."

"Can I ask you something?"

"That's why we're here remember, you really are a shitty interviewer." She was cold and hard after getting off. She was like a man.

"This is hard..." Just do it. Own up to it. "You said you live close?"

"I knew this was coming." She took another drag and blew out a long slow line of smoke. "So, don't take this wrong. I like you. I think we are going to hang out. You have to give me a good name though."

"But?"

"But you are a romantic?"

"Romantic?"

"You write about sluts but they don't cheat on their men? Your sluts don't sleep with married men. You have a romantic view of what sex is. Maybe it doesn't have to be love, but it does have to be justifiable. It has to be honest. Sex isn't like that. Sex is hot and dirty, it is sweet and tender, but it's sex. It's just sex. It's an orgasm and a shower."

"I guess."

"As much as I like you. As much as I want to repay you for that little session in the head, I don't want you getting some romantic falling in love sort of thing in your head for me."

"I don't think..."

"Good, because I am going to fuck the shit out of you." This time she smiled. "Just not right now."

"So you are leaving."

"Yeah, in a bit. I'm going to fuck the shit out of the guy at the bar for watching our stuff for us."

"Really?" Realizing I was hurt, bordering on heartbroken, I think I understood what she was saying.

"Call your husband, get him up here to pick you up. Maybe I will get to check him out before we leave."

"Charlotte." I said.

"Is that my name?"

"Does it work?"

"You're the writer." She stood up and I stood up as well. I went to give her a hug, that girlfriend-good-to-see-you-again-hug we all do but instead was again kissed in a long slow lingering I-can't-wait-to-get-you-in-bed sort of kiss you get at the end of a good date.

"I can't stop thinking about your breasts." I said. I have no idea why. She responded my taking my hand and again placing it up her shirt on her chest. She did that eyebrow raise thing and walked away. I watched her sit down next to he guy at the bar.

I took another drink of beer and wished she had left me a cigarette. I thought about driving home but thought better of it. I did what she said.

"Hey." I tried not to sound as sad as I was to be making the call.

"Hey, Punkin'. He answered. Good meeting."

"Yeah, actually." He picked up my spirits being excited about my project. God, men could be okay sometimes, ya know. "But I sorta drank too much!"

"Really? That's some meeting. Where you at? I'll come get you."

I told him where I was. He knew the place. He got out more than I do.

"Do I need to be jealous?" He asked joking. At least mostly joking.

"Of course. But before you get too worried I will warn you, I am going to fuck your dick off tonight."

"Damn. Well let me get rolling."

I paid my check. It was heftier than I expected. I couldn't believe I had done four shots. I guess I had gotten rid of most of them. I thought for a moment of letting her see my husband. I wanted her to see him. He was tall and good-looking; at least I thought he was. I thought of her unicorn comment and how much fun that would be. I thought about her comment about fucking my husband and stepped out in front of the bar to wait for him. I figured he would pull up and I could slip in and be gone.

Time drug on and I sat on the curb.

Time seemed to stop. He was coming, I was sure of it. I could call him but he wouldn't answer if he was driving.

It was dark and my phone rang.

We were both testy with each other. We were both there. It took a minute or so for us to realize there were two entrances and I had been standing in front of one while he had slipped in the other. I walked back in to find him sitting at the bar. Fuck it. I ordered another beer.

"Well this is fun and different for a Wednesday night." He said. He kissed me. I scanned the bar; my friend and her pick-up had left.

"You eat?"

"No." I answered, realizing I was starving.

"Tacos?

We ordered an assortment of different street tacos. We talked about my meeting. I gave him the high level review. I got some good ideas. He smiled and said he couldn't wait to read them. He liked reading my stories and I liked what he did to me after he was done reading.

"You know, its good you found me when you did. Apparently I have it going on tonight?"

I looked at him curiously. He was just in a T-shirt and shorts. I looked over the bar again. I didn't see anything to worry about. "Sure honey, you are the Channing Tatum of the over forty drunken suburban wife set."

"You laugh, but I was only here about ten minutes when a hot redhead gave me her number." Gloating he passed me the napkin.

"She was hot?" I took the napkin. It had her number, I recognized it. She had gone old school and pressed her lips to it, I recognized the color. It also said Charlotte.

"Red head. You know I like red heads. She was probably crazy though."

"You like crazy." I knew he did. Hell, I was crazy.

"You know I do. Give me back my napkin!" He teased.

"Okay, but I get to watch." I handed it back. I already had her number.