Deep Down Inside Ch. 05-08

"So Graham is fine with scandalizing a few actresses as long as it didn't come directly from him?"

"Not really." She was sitting up with only her legs under the blankets, and she rubbed her temples with her fingers. "He'd prefer to leave them out entirely, but he also wants his story told."

"What is his story?"

She shook her head with a defeated gasp. "He's a super hot stuntman who fucked some actresses, that's pretty much it. And I told him that—basically those exact words."

"You told him he was super hot?"

She looked at me as if I were being silly. "I told him that and a lot more. I feel so dirty right now."

I stroked her thigh under the covers.

"Not that kind of dirty. You know what I'm saying."

She then threw back the covers and got out of bed. "And, honestly, this book could sell if we just focused on the spicy scenes." She took her phone from off her dresser and climbed back into bed. "It's hot, he really does have some very hot stories. Here," she said, opening her photo app and handing me the phone, "he's forty-eight now but this is what he looked like during his early thirties when most of this took place."

Her phone displayed a picture of a young shirtless Graham in a fighting pose. The guy was a stud, muscles, abs and oozing masculinity. I couldn't help but notice she'd taken the extra step of downloading the book's imagery to her photos. I'd assumed she'd been sharing it with her girlfriends, most of whom were coworkers.

"Just look at him! I think his looks alone are enough to sell it, right? Any bored housewife would consider that a treat, right?"

Needless to say, I was growing a bit jealous hearing my wife fawn over another man, and knew exactly what to say in order to dispel her attraction. "At that age he kinda looks like Kaden."

She grabbed the phone from me and asked, "You think?" She studied the picture a moment and then weakly conceded, "I mean, I guess maybe? I mean, if Kaden wasn't openly such a jerk—then maybe?" She then teased, "I'd have to see a hot shirtless picture of Kaden," as she closed down her phone and set it on her nightstand.

"Ha ha. So what'd you have to say to break him?"

"What?" she asked, coming back from a distant thought.

"If you didn't want to reveal any starlets and he didn't either, then what did you tell him so he'd agree to include incriminating details?"

"Oh, that Penn Perrot wouldn't print without naming people. He pretty much broke me in that regard. I'm the one who now has to go to Estelle and convince her we don't need names"

"Well, then what did he say to break you?"

"He just got intense. I don't know... And he didn't seem interested in more money."

Tacking on that part about the money left me wondering if there wasn't something else he wanted. I'm sure Camille had pondered that as well.

"I saw him grab your face."

She looked at me with wide eyes. "He didn't grab my face."

"OK, technically he grabbed your shoulder and placed a hand on your face."

"I can't believe you spied on me."

"Only for a minute." I caressed her leg again.

"Well OK, I guess he sort of touched my cheek at some point. But I was more rattled by what he'd said."

"Which was?"

"Well he kind of put things bluntly." She scooted down under the covers and faced me. "He was just making a point so don't get mad, but he said I was a beautiful woman who seems to value her reputation. And then he asked what would happen if he asked me out."

I caressed her thigh up to her ass and wiggled my body closer to hers. "Was he asking you out?"

"That's what I had asked, if he was being hypothetical or serious. And then he suggests moving the whole conversation back to his place."

I could not believe what I was hearing. Her face was just inches from mine and her eyelids were getting the in-the-mood heaviness. We hadn't had sex in a few weeks and I was more than happy to hear the rest of her Graham story if it meant I got laid. "He invited you to his place—awkward."

"Extremely awkward, and then he said something about nature taking its course and... And helping me find God."

I kissed her and she kissed back hard, her tits pressing into my chest.

"So he wanted to help you find God?"

"Yeah, but definitely not in the Christian sense. Not the way he was talking."

I pushed my groin against hers, allowing her to feel my partial erection. "Like maybe he'd have you scream out God's name?"

"Um, did you figure that one out all on your own?" She said sarcastically, pinching my cheek. "Well I didn't know how to respond to any of that, and before I even could, he said how wonderful it would be to write the last chapter in his book together. So that was really his point. He just wanted me to get a sense of how creepy it would feel to be in a salacious tell-all. And I guess it worked. I felt legitimately exploited for a moment."

"And he wasn't serious at all, just trying to make a point?"

"Yeah, and to hammer it home he said people would love to read about him plucking the pink ribbon from my hair and using it to tie up my wrists."

"Um, that's pretty specific. You sure he was only trying to prove a point?"

"Yes, and if it makes you feel any better, I said that my husband wouldn't be happy reading about it." She raised one eyebrow and joked, "You wouldn't be, right?"

I tickled her sides under the bed and made her shriek. "Am I really gonna have to fight a stuntman?"

She rolled on top of me. "Don't, we can't afford the doctor bills."

"Oh, is that right? I don't throw movie punches." I kept up my attack on her sides, making her squirm and guard with her elbows as she giggled helplessly.

I adjusted myself, aligning my cock between her legs and pulled her down for a kiss. I then kissed my way from her chin down to her chest, and just as I got a nipple in my mouth she went tense. "Babe... babe.... wait.... wait..."

I rolled off, familiar with that tone.

"Sorry, it's just been an intense day, OK."

"I know, I thought a little fun might take your mind off of things."

She closed her eyes and sighed, a subtle rebuke of my persistence.

"Babe," I continued, "that book is getting written whether you're a part of it or not. You're just the editor."

She smiled. "You're right. You are, I know."

"Well then, there are other ways to take your mind off things." I rolled her over and sat with my legs to either side of her thighs. I then began working my fingers into her bare shoulders. She began to loosen up as I continued to knead at the various muscles of her back.

"Are you mad?" she asked, her voice partially smothered by her pillow.

"About what?"

"Because I'm not in the mood."

Working my fingers into her sexy gorgeous back was only inciting the mood for me, and I had to ask, "Are you sure you're not in the mood?"

"I am. I'm just in such a dark place. This book... Graham talking freaky..."

"And you sure a little nookie wouldn't help get you out of that dark place?"

"Nookie?" She giggled as I hoped she would. "Nookie isn't something I ever want to have."

It then got so quiet I heard a car turn onto our street. A Taylor Swift song played at a modest level as it passed our home and then its engine faded out some two blocks away.

"I'm afraid of getting you all tangled up in what I'm feeling right now." Her voice startled me, and I reflexively moved my hands towards it up to her neck. I began crushing flat the cords leading up to her head. She adjusted to straighten her neck, and spoke into a depression in her pillow. "On one hand it does get me a little hot thinking about the Hollywood escapades, but my mind keeps going back to the women who'll be hurt just for being horny. The actual ending of the book will be the public's judgy reaction, so it's really about consequences forced upon women. It just makes me sick and pissess me off."

That was a lot to take in, and her voice was thinning as she wandered into sleep. I let it simmer until it began to feel like an attack on a group that included me. She wasn't in the mood because I represented that group. Dumb, I know, and yet I went into a defense.

"So, like I know about your 'fun years', have I ever made you feel bad for that?"

She sighed, frustrated her speech had been lost on me, and then said reassuringly, "You are a rare and wonderful man, Alex. Which is why I don't want to emotionally tangle you up in this." Her praise sounded like a consolation prize, and that's when I knew for certain we weren't having sex.

"I suppose I understand."

"You always do. You're always the bigger man. And I love you for it, Alex."

I found a big knot on her hip line, and began to soften it up with my thumbs. The pain made her leg tremble under me as she spoke in a dreamy tone about how just being around me made her happy. Then she went silent, with one last tremor in her leg. Even the air in the room seemed still, its calmness working like gravity to hold us in place.

"Sometimes I think about just going crazy." She said, disturbing the silence again. She was mostly asleep, a little drunk, a few hits of pot in her, and essentially dreaming aloud. "I love being married to you, but marriage..." Her head settled into the pillow, her hair pushed to one side so I could see that only the corner of her mouth wasn't smothered by the pillow's fluffy bulge. She'd drifted back to sleep before finishing her thoughts and I seriously felt I should know the rest. She then murmured, "Hmmmm-everyone got what they wanted though." It would've been inaudible, unintelligible mumbling had my attention not been so razor sharp. "Happiness and conformity...". She mumbled next, leaving out any kind of context, her voice periodically popping up like a dolphin's back. "Naked revolt," came out a little louder, and was followed softly by, "Hmmmm-in broad daylight." The knot at her hip finally began to break up with a long sigh of relief. "Mmmm-really hot sex." Her voice trailed off as her hips squirmed beneath me, and then she went completely out.

Normally Camille seemed older than her age but tonight she seemed younger. Words like "dark", "conformity" and "revolt" sounded like something written in a teenager's notebook of poems. Or maybe it was just me feeling my age. Even with my thirty-two to her twenty-seven she routinely stood out as the mature one—'Premature wisdom' is how I'd teased her. Not tonight though. Tonight I was her rock to lean on.

I watched my wife's back become as smooth as still water, her consciousness had fully departed, leaving me alone with her empty shell. The trembling in her thigh had completely subsided. I stopped massaging her low back as I caught my reflection in the vanity above the dresser. I can be prideful, it just takes some work to get me there, and I'd been the bigger man tonight.

Chapter 7: A Scorching 4th of July

My buddies partied with Solo cups of Stone IPA, dangling their legs in Kaden's pool, supposedly there to celebrate the 4th of July and watch the Blue Jays and Yankees on his outdoor 40 inch screen, but mostly they were eyeing up my wife laying out in her skimpy two-piece. Camille looked extra fine, and while my pride soared as a result, as it always did when it came to my wife's beautiful looks, I knew she wasn't too thrilled with the attention.

We were off to the side on the lawn near a wooden slatted fence. We were always off to the side when my friends were around. But just that twenty foot distance from their noise was enough to let in the rumble of waves breaking against the Huntington Beach pier, and that was the real feature of Kaden's house—the subtle reminders of the ocean mere blocks away.

I sat on the grass beside the Chaise Lounge she'd had me carry over from the poolside concrete after dumbass Richie started cannonballing. Camille's butt was in line with my shoulders as I watched the game. The 40 inch screen mounted by spring arm to the back wall of his house was too far from us to see much detail, so my attention was mainly on Camille's ass in my peripheral vision. I thought back on our bike ride through Colorado and watching her ass on the bike seat the entire way.

Alright, so I wasn't behaving any better than my dumbass friends, but in all of our defense, she wasn't wearing her normal one piece swimsuit. The back of the black, bikini bottom didn't completely cover her ass and left exposed from one side to the other the area where her perfect, white buns tucked in against her thighs. In addition to Ashtanga Yoga and jogging she also relaxed every night with "balance exercises" in front of the TV. I didn't think her body could be any more toned, but goddamn you could crack a rock on that ass now. It stood up tall and round from her prone body and totally devoured those little bikini bottoms.

I had no idea she owned such a two-piece or the desire to wear it. Not of late, anyway, and especially not to one of Kaden's parties. She'd been showing almost no interest in sex or being sexy, which I attributed to Graham's book. It had really been messing with her head, with so much emphasis on sex and knowing the coming aftermath would see a public turning on these women for simply not being puritans. She'd cooled off sexually in the years following our marriage, but it had been weeks since we'd made love, and her rhetoric against male chauvinist assholes had amped up to where I felt uncomfortable even touching her at times.

Fuck, with all that shit preying on her mind I'd given her points just for going to Kaden's party, and then she'd pulled off her sundress and there was that two-piece leaving the bottom of her ass on display. There were probably about fourteen guys there and only three other girls, all with bikini friendly bods but nothing like Camille's. She was given their immediate attention after her sundress came off and hadn't lost it since.

My curiosity finally ruptured. "OK, what gives?"

My vagueness got her interest but not an answer. Her face rested sideways on a towel, which she'd laid over top of the cushioned lounge, and her eyes crept open to see what the nuisance was all about.

"Your suit, that's new right?"

She smiled. "It's taken you this long to notice?"

"Well there's not much of it to notice." I slipped a finger under the fabric at the seat that crossed the side of her buns, meaning to show the line didn't encompass all of her ass.

"It's not new. You bought it for me."

With my finger still hooked under the fabric I gave it a little tug away from her skin. "I think I'd remember buying-"

"On our honeymoon," she clarified, cutting me off.

As soon as she said "honeymoon" I remembered the exact moment I'd seen them on a manikin posed in the Kahala hotel lobby gift shop. The reason I'd forgotten is they seemed to disappear into the ether after gifting them to her in our room. She'd rolled her eyes at the sexy garb and questioned, "Really?" I admit my heart sank when she'd treated the gesture like a joke.

"That's right, I did buy those didn't I?"

Mid sentence my ears were suddenly turned inside out by a bang just the other side of the tall fence behind me by an M-80 explosion so loud I flinched and sent beer suds flying from my cup of Stone IPA onto Camille's bottom.

She jerked her butt away, bringing her knee up and rising onto her elbows. The bottom of her suit pulled inwards before my finger came loose pulling the suit into her butt crack like a thong.

"God, tell those little shits to cut it out."

"It's the 4th of July, babe."

I'd seen their dopey, twelve-year-old faces peeking through the slats in the wooden fence and knew they'd set it off near us on purpose, but it wasn't my party and I didn't want to start a feud with Kaden's neighbors. I know how touchy parents can be when someone lays into their kids.

Kaden on the other hand—he was of a different mindset.

He looked like a sprinter, head back, arms pumping out in front, as he came charging across the small patio at the head of the pool. Kaden's backyard was maybe fifty feet long, but in that short distance, he built up amazing speed. He leapt towards the back fence right beside Camille and I, one bare foot kicking a board midway up and launching him high enough to catch the lip of the six-foot fence with his left palm. His arm locked out straight so that half his body was poking over the fence when his lower half slammed against it, bringing him to a halt. It was surprising the fence didn't topple over. From there he threw a ketchup bottle straight into their yard.

"You spastic fucks! You'd better run! I'll come over there and torch your fucking house!"

He dropped back down. Camille and I were speechless. Total disbelief. He shook his head. "Parents let them run wild, so whatcha gonna do?"

Camille went up on all fours to straighten out her towel.

"I'm sure you were a lot worse at that age, Kaden."

He looked her over and paused on her ass. "You know me too well, Camille. I blew up our neighbor's rose garden."

She hadn't noticed the condition of her suit yet, and now that she was up on all fours with her legs bent her butt went from two hemispheres to two three-quarter spheres, with her suit mostly wedged into her crack.

"Uh-oh, Camille, I think you have a bit of a wardrobe malfunction there."

She peered over her shoulder at Kaden, who was pointing at her ass, and then she reached back and felt totally naked buns.

There I was, standing next to my friend, both of us watching Camille feel her naked ass cheeks. It only lasted for a second before she'd pulled it back into place and lay down flat again, but that was all it took for jealousy to cut through me. Yet at the same time I had my typical overwhelming sense of pride. And more weirdly—horniness.

Kaden spun around and headed back to the BBQ leaving Camille red in the face. I kneeled down beside her, placing a hand on her calf.

"God, he can be such a major dick," she said, still speaking into the cushion.

"You'll forgive him, you always do."

"I shouldn't. He's six feet of obnoxious testosterone."

"Six-two. Don't cheat him on those extra inches or he gets mad."

"I can't believe kids shot off fireworks at us and I feel like we're the assholes in this situation. Could you imagine living next door to him?"

"Richie lived with Kaden for a year. You should ask him about it sometime." Of course she'd never ask my friends about anything, but I always had to try.

I looked back towards the patio where the party was still going strong. Several heads turned away as I did. Yep, they were still checking out Camille. She might've been a little cold towards my friends but my pride and jealousy combo was off the charts.

"I'm going to make the rounds. You okay? Need anything?"

"I'm fine. How much longer do you plan on staying?"

"Babe, we practically just got here."

"Then I'll be needing another margarita."

"You got it!"

I hustled towards the crowded Huntington Beach cottage and worked my way towards the kitchen to get my wife a margarita. Kaden came inside with me, carrying a plate of burgers fresh off the grill that oozed fat and red juice.

"Dude, those look incredible."

He handed me the platter so he could strip off his shirt. The sun was picking up outside and his BBQ was directly under it.

"You get one yet?"

"No, but I will after this." I handed the platter back to him and held up the empty margarita and Solo cup in my other hand.

"Fuck, get a Makers in the ice queen and she might treat us to a nip-slip."

I laughed it off. Makers whisky seemed to be the shot choice of the moment, but I can't stand the shit.

Kaden was forever envious, knowing all too well he'd never nail anything as rock solid as Camille, and then I'd up and married her. But the ice queen bit hit home, even if I didn't let him know it. Since Graham's book our sex life really had slowed down. Thankfully Kaden didn't know that was the case, so I could just allude to a hot sexlife to shut him up.