Down the Rabbit Hole Ch. 02b

Even though I was scared of dressing up too much, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious when I stepped inside the club. The place is filled with young, beautiful and super sexy girls who look as if to sell off the latest trends at a fashion show rather than having a night out at a club. One outfit outshines the next. What's funny about this, is the girls are all so tall these days. My heart skips when I spot Max at the bar. Wearing an elegant white shirt with a v-neck, he looks as charming as ever. His suit pants have been replaced by black jeans.

One of the chicks is standing next to him, clearly picking him up. I watch my lover from behind the pillar. As the girl speaks to him, she smiles and twirls a strand of hair with her finger. Using her left hand, she reaches for a drink, holds it up to her mouth, and bites a straw. Max seems distracted, even though he appears to indulge the girl. There is a greater look of mockery on his face than usual. He looks around. I begin to envision them together instantly. Perhaps because she suits him better than I do. I can imagine her long, maroon fingernail-tipped fingers on his fly. Slowly caressing his groin area. Then, kneeling down she reaches for the zipper.

What am I doing?

When Max sees me, he waves his hand. A smile spreads across his face, and the girl is no longer to be found. As I walk over, I quickly greet him on the cheek, though I see he is clearly searching for my lips. Despite not knowing anyone here, I would rather act like we're just two friends who happened to run into each other at a party. We order drinks and have a courtesy conversation for a while about how our week has passed. Of course, I prefer him to tell the story.

My life has become monstrously dull, and I am mortified at how my greatest emotions are caused by a white laundry load accidentally thrown with a red sock. Max tells of meeting a famous traveler at the event. I listen intently.

"I haven't been in a place like this in... ages. Everyone here is almost half my age." I declare.

"Don't worry, I prefer adult and mature women."

"Fetish of yours?"

He tilts his whiskey glass and stares at the amber liquid.

"You could say that," he says after a moment. "Please don't get caught up with the age, ok." He says suddenly. "Take a look."

He grabs my chin and gently twists my face so I can see a group of twenty-year-old boys at the other end of the bar. Max leans over to me, and as he whispers, I feel the brush of his lips against my earlobe.

"See him staring at you?" He asks, and my ear turns red.

Indeed, one of the youngsters stares fiercely at me, as if the Blessed Virgin herself had appeared to him.

"I'm sure he would give up on ten chicks here just so he could trade places with me." With that, Max slips his hand between my thighs. "But I won't give you to anyone."

It's dark and crowded, the boy can't see much and yet he stares intently at us. I'm unable to stop Max. While looking him straight in the eyes, I feel his fingers reach the edge of my tight lace thong. The moisture gathered on the fabric only signifies one thing. He is relentless with his fingers, particularly with his thumb. I part my lips reflexively and let out a soft moan. Max kisses my neck, the boy keeps staring at us with a captivated look.

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

Apparently Max doesn't mind the presence of the incidental observer. He does not even glance in his direction. I gasp when I feel my laces being pushed aside. What is he doing!? I panic as his finger goes for my clitoris, which is slick with juice and swollen from my arousal. I can't stop groaning, but the music drowns it out. Max's finger keeps caressing me more and more. His hand is moving faster and faster. Thankfully people around us are preoccupied with each other. However, there is no doubt in my mind that our secret admirer knows what is going on. But I don't care. I spread my thighs to let my man in deeper.

"Not yet," Max whispers into my ear, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him.

Like a smoke, I follow him obediently. We climb the stairs together. We pass talking groups and kissing couples as we go. The staircase is empty at the top, but right below us, on the landing, two girls are kissing. One is a blonde, the other is a redhead. Both of their tongues intertwine as they press their heads against the glass. We are just a glance away. None of us seem bothered. Max puts me on a the windowsill, opens my thighs, the dress immediately rides up, revealing the black lace of the panties. Max presses his lips against them. Who knew that fondling a pussy through a piece of cloth could be so intense. There is no way to tell whether the lace is wet from my juices or from his saliva.

"Please, taste me," I begged.

The right corner of Max's mouth rises up as he stares at me triumphantly. He straightens up and thumbs down my panties. His gaze drifts to my bare flesh as if the earth bore a diamond in front of his nose. I sit there, uncovered in front of him, the sounds of the party, voices and laughter reach me from below.

As I look down, the couple on the landing are still kissing, and a redhead peers discreetly at us. She might not be able to see much in dim light. I finally felt Max licking me. Starting with long and teasingly slow movements. Shortly thereafter, my labia opened up in front of him like a flower. His lapping becomes more adventurous. To my surprise, I sense the tip of his tongue exploring my anus then he abruptly goes back up straight to my clit. I feel the tongue circling around the sensitive nub. It's incredibly nice, and I would beg him to keep going even if half the place came to watch us.

The whole world disappears, there's only Max's tongue and mine nerve receptors. Max curls his tongue into a trumpet and presses it against my vagina. Then he imitates intercourse for a moment before relaxing his tongue, becoming soft and wide, and licking me upside down as though he were licking an ice cream cup. I press his head against my crotch. Eventually, he turns his attention to the clitoris, which is now swollen and begging for attention.

Max first suckles it gently with his fleshy lips, then teases it with his tongue. Finally, I am flooded by a convulsive wave of orgasm that continues unceasingly. Muscle contractions seem endless... Then, I push down on Max, who gasps for air but doesn't tear his lips away from my pussy. This is unlike anything I have ever experienced before.

Then I pant loudly and press my face against his torso. From the corner of my eye, I see the girls below us break apart and go downstairs. The redhead gives me a knowing smile when I leave.

***

My weeks consist of long-awaited weekends when I turn into an uncontrollable creature, but then I'm harshly brought back down to a crushing reality, where I have to endure mundane weekdays. In any given second, I feel Max standing behind me every second, wherever I am and whatever I do. I wonder how Richard is not aware of my detachment from reality. One time, I almost watered the flowers with tea, I mixed up his socks, and I accidentally added flour to the coffee in place of sugar. I remember Jacob asking me what I was going to do with that mug as I stood smiling over the monster pot in the living room.

It's a miracle I haven't accidentally poisoned them yet. It's actually quite remarkable that Richard has remained so calm all this time, despite having gone through a similar emotional whirlpool as most people do when they cheat. In addition, he does not ask too many questions when I announce that I have scheduled another appointment with my friend. I love how easy it is to keep your relationship hidden. Max exists on my phone as Maxie, and before we get to the point of meeting, he sends the pre-arranged text: "What's up?" If I respond, "Not much," it's a sign that I'm alone and we can talk freely.

I delete all messages immediately prior to sending out: "See you there." Not a very sophisticated communication system, yet it has worked perfectly. No husband would suspect anything from a text like that. Besides that, Richard is not interested in probing my smartphone at all. He most likely thinks I look up the latest recipes online.

"Saturday at 8, Hilton. I'll send you the room number, "Max writes as I signal the line is secure.

* * *

I don't know what would have to happen for me not to show up at the designated place. I need him so badly. On Saturday, I'm as excited as a teenager before prom, humming under my breath, and serving boys their favorite pulled pork burgers for dinner even though they take a long time to make. But I still managed to meet Annie in the afternoon. My teenage friend is so energetic. Her spirited aura fills up the room. The way she tells a story is animated; she gesticulates vibrantly and her expressions vary depending on what she is saying. Truthfully, I like to be a spectator of the show and just listen. She's always been more outgoing than I am, and her way of speaking calms me for reasons unknown to me. Possibly because it is so easy to fall into the comfort of her amiable ways.

"Alright missy, spill it out" she says, scooping the chocolate dessert out of the bowl.

"About what?"

"Pfff, please cut the crap, something is up with you. I know you too well. You smile even when you don't look at me, you radiate like polonium and radium combined, and you look like a twenty-year-old. Any idiot would figure you out."

I immediately think of my husband. I blush, embarrassed that she reads me like an open book.

"How long?" Annie asks with concern.

That's a good question. How long has it been? It's the end of May, I met Max in April. It will be about a month and half.

"Six.. maybe six weeks."

"That early?" Annie is surprised. "And the test already showed?" Do you feel any sickness?

"What?!!! " I frown. "Annie, what are you ... Oh shit ...

"Are you pregnant?" This time she is surprised by my reaction.

"Shit," I repeat. "No, I'm not pregnant.

The two of us are tensely looking at each other.

"My gosh I'm sorry. I could have sworn ... Are you still trying? "

"Yeah, but with less enthusiasm.

"Why don't you go to the doctor? You know.. they treat infertility nowadays."

"We have been to many places. Unfortunately, it seems my mucus is lethal to Richard's eager swimmers."

"What about in vitro?"

"We considered it."

Annie grabs my hand.

"I apologize for being nosy." I went too far, didn't I. But if you want to talk .. "

She is a mother to two toddlers and a good wife, even though she is the last person I would have ever suspected to fulfill this role. In college, she was all about parties and guys. Then something unexpected happened. She ended up with Derrick, a friend from the group, and one she felt nothing for. They have been happily married for over ten years. Life is strange sometimes. Annie thinks I am miserable because I can't have children. Honestly, I just don't know sometimes.

"Noooo, you have someone!" She blasted out suddenly.

I was so disarmed that I was unable to deny it. All I could do was stare worriedly.

"I want all the details!" Where, when, what, how?

I don't see the point in pretending, so I'm telling her how we got together.

"And you say he lives in an expensive penthouse and drives the latest BMW? And tomorrow he's taking you to the most expensive hotel suite for the night, just like that? Hmm...

"What?" - I ask in surprise. "What's on your mind?"

"Something doesn't add up. Is he really earning so much money at his event agency? Doubtful ..." My friend wrinkles her tiny nose.

"He doesn't look like a gangster." I counter. "I would get a hint at this point. I'm rather certain of it."

"Dealer? Pimp? Maybe an enforcer?" Annie pushes further and I shake my head. "What do you know about him, except that he is basking in luxury and has a big dong?"

"And he can take care of a woman like no man on earth," I add sarcastically.

"Okay, he adores you in bed, but other than that?" Any feelings outside the unquenchable lust?

"He's very secretive," I confess. Not the type that shares a lot about himself."

"The money must have come from somewhere. You better keep your eyes open sweetheart."

* * *

I take the elevator to the ninth floor a minute before eight. Max opens the door for me barefoot in a white bathrobe.