No Consequences Pt. 02

I was going to protest but she had been playing me since I met her so instead I pulled away from any contact and turned over. Fuck her.

Daylight took forever to arrive, long enough for me to evaluate my life with her and my life without her — to compare the two; to line the two up in pro and con columns. It took me minutes to fully realize that my life is utter crap without her, then I just stared into the blackness and wondered if I had the courage to take her on.

"I'm sorry," I said again, this time when I could see her face.

"And you're going to get sorrier," she said, as she got out of bed, her tits swaying tantalizingly for emphasis as she got to her feet and walked to the bathroom. She was back in a minute reaching for her bra.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Oh, no you don't. Get back in here." I pulled the sheet back.

She adjusted the cups then picked up her underwear. "There were all kinds of reasons I should have thought better about this, but even so I decided on you, I decided not to wait to fall in love with you... that, I knew, could take a lot of time... like a whole lot of time, if it was ever even possible. No, I decided not to wait to try to fall in love with you, I decided to choose you; I decided to choose you then work at it. I decided to give you my best shot. But I'm not enough for you, I get that — I get that you believe that."

When she stepped into her underwear, without doubt the sexiest sight I have ever seen, I sat up. "Look I can be a prick, I'm not used to this, I'm not used to..."

"Caring, sharing..."

"Being with a woman."

"Then you're in luck, you're not going to be, at least not with this one." She snapped the elastic of her panties for effect.

"Yes I am. Get back in here," I demanded, impotently, I knew.

"Get serious."

"I am serious."

She picked up her dress and looked at it. "We had fun buying this, Peggy and I. It cost me a fortune but we thought it'd be worth it; we thought you'd be proud of me. Ya, it's a bit out there but you would see how hard I was trying." She started to put it on.

I jumped out of bed and tried to take the dress from her. She didn't let go; I pulled, she pulled — I could see how determined she was so I let it go before I ripped it and I pushed her on the bed. Hard. "You're not going. You're staying. You're going to listen to me apologize, then you're going to watch me grovel, then we're going to make some plans."

She looked up at me confused. "Plans for what?"

"Whatever plans you want. I can't write now — that's impossible; I can't concentrate — all I do is think of you. I want to be with you — I know that now. So what do you want to do? What plans do you want to make?"

She looked at me hard, trying to fathom my sincerity. Finally she said, "I'd like to do last night over again and have everything, I mean every last thing about it be different. You can't grovel enough for the crap you put me through... and yourself. That was embarrassing; you were embarrassing."

"OK, I'm..."

"You don't respect me, Jason and you know it. Why don't you just come out and admit it?"

"I don't understand you, that's my problem. I admit that; I'll get better... I mean, you're not exactly normal."

"I don't want to be normal."

I got on my knees on the bed looking, in supplication, up at her, realizing my desperation. "I don't want to be normal any more either."

She wasn't reacting, she wasn't saying anything, she was just looking at me, thinking. "You're on probation," she finally said, with a fierceness in her eyes that was utterly convincing. "I'm not going to put up with any more of your crap. We can agree, we can disagree, that's great, that's fun but the next time I feel you aren't respecting my right to be me, I'm gone. Are we clear about that?"

"So, you'll stay?"

"Are we clear about that?"

"We are," I said, and meaning it.

"Fine... I'm going to take a short bath, you made me feel dirty. Make the coffee, then get four ties and lay on your bed."

"Seriously? Again?"

"I like the control. You got a problem with that?" She looked back daring me to object.

"No." But I did.

I was spread eagle naked on the bed when Kon's friend Peggy suddenly sauntered in. I would have cried out in shock but this time Kon had stuffed a pair of her more delicate panties in my mouth so all speech was effectively muted; I could only communicate with my eyes and I'm sure they were bugging out of my head at her arrival.

Peggy was grinning when she unceremoniously and inelegantly pulled her t-shirt over her head, then she threw it on the bed next to me and stood there in her pink bra looking down at me. "I'm here to comfort your girlfriend — you've put her through the fucking wringer and not just last night."

As if on queue Kon slinked in wearing The Dress. She went to Peggy, kissed her on the lips, a little peck, then as Peggy slowly wiggled out of her jeans Kon came over and sat down on the bed and took hold of my entirely flaccid cock. "If I don't decide to un-stalk you, I'm going to buy proper restraints and one of those things you put in the mouth."

"Ball gag," Peggy offered with a grin.

"Ya, all the proper gear." She bent down and kissed me on the forehead then straightened. "I'm not going to waste this dress, Jase. Peggy and I are going to go through what should have happened last night... just so you'll know for next time... if there ever is a next time."

Peggy was standing beside the bed in a pink bra that seemed to barely contain her heavy breasts. She was wearing sensible white cotton panties that pressed against Kon's hip as she turned to gather her into her arms.

I lay there powerless, trying not to strain at my bindings but knowing I couldn't help it.

They kissed, I think that's what you call it although I've never seen anything like it before: a series of open mouth assaults with attacking tongues... and duelling noses, weird head angles, strange noises and all the time sucking and licking and biting with an obvious hunger. I didn't know if what they were doing was designed to tease me, turn me on or revolt me; it was doing all of them as I fought to stay as objective as I could. They were doing this to get to me, I knew that, and, apart from my raging erection, I tried not to let it, the moral implications of it anyway.

What was winning me over was their obvious attraction to each other, even more than the wanton sexuality of what they were doing. They were giving and taking, with their mouths and their fingers, obviously knowing where to go, what to do, how to accept, how to encourage. Strangely, what they were doing struck me more as the actions of close friends, then lovers: it seemed they were trying to soften life's blows with tenderness, compassion and encouragement; they looked like they were trying to charge each other's batteries, something they had done often before and needed to do again now. It looked like it was working.

Their open mouths were fused together when Peggy's fingers went to the zipper — Peggy had turned her slightly so I could watch the exquisite movement, slow, one tine at a time... the dress eventually flying apart like it was a zipper on a Speedo. But the dress itself only came off with a fight: Peggy pulling while Kon pushed, both laughing at the struggle... I was thinking of her alone last night, in the spare bedroom, peeling the thing off while I was staring at the ceiling next door, pissed off... at what? I've long since forgotten.

Then they were on the bed beside me, ignoring me, pretending they were alone. When I wasn't straining at my bindings trying to get a better look I was straining away from them trying to show my disgust. They couldn't have cared less: it was like I wasn't there when they took off each other's underwear, or when their fingers went between each other's legs or... or... or... or. But I was there for it all; it must have lasted well over an hour; I could see now that it goes slow when you care, when you're giving as much as you're getting, when you communicate — compliment, encourage, laugh, moan, cry out. And when you relax when it's over and you don't want it to be over, and you probably never do when you're with the one person who matters so much to you.

Everything was dead calm when Peggy sprang to her knees beside me, her face just inches from mine. "That's what you should have been doing to her last night, just so you know." She grinned, leaned further in kissing me on the forehead, then she was kissing down my body and Kon's eyes were glowing into mine, mischievously, her gums glistening. "Is this more reason not to respect me, Jase?" She pulled the panties out of my mouth... they were soddened by my desire.

I waited for saliva to moisten my mouth. "Let me go, Kon."

She ignored me like all good torturers do. "Do you want me in your life?"

If there was one bolt of reality smacking me between the eyes for the last 8 hours this was it. "I said I do."

"As a plaything or something more."

"Something more."

'What?"

"I don't know, we have to work that out."

"I'm going to Europe in two days."

"I'll go with you."

"That's the right answers, Jase." When Kon's lips pressed against mine Peggy's mouth was nibbling on my cock then Kon was laying down, mostly on me and I could feel my prick slowly slidding into Peggy's throat — deep into her throat. I'd heard of it but never had it before; the sensation was fabulous but I was afraid to move, afraid I'd hurt her and then she pulled away and got up and headed for the bathroom while I pretended it hadn't happened.

Kon athletically sprang from the bed and was putting on a t-shirt.

"Why did you do that with her?" I knew why, I just wanted her to admit it.

She turned around and gave me some gums, then put her foot on the bed and leaned on her knee looking down on me. "We do that; we like to do that; I thought you should know. That's one. Two: I'm not going to let you treat me like you did last night... ever again. I don't know what that was all about but I guarantee you it's not worth stalking you for. Three: I want to go places sexually with my man, that was part of the message... so it was a test; if you couldn't handle it I wanted to know. Four: I was horny and you, I gather, weren't. Five: I like to have fun... with my friends, with sex, with my life. I don't think of myself as a free spirit but compared to you I'm a whack-job and I'm not going to change. Six: you're almost 30, hiding out in suburbia, alone, no friends, fucking your septuagenarian agent and you're trying to pull things out of your brain that aren't there. I can put them there — you need me. And Seven, the one take-away you have to remember: I did what I wanted to do and I'm always going to."

She stood there, staring down on me, waiting for a reaction. All I could feel was my own inadequacies. "How much patience do you have?"

"I have some, but I'm an accountant, I care about the bottom line."

Peggy appeared in the doorway naked holding a towel. "Has he apologized yet?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I can be a prick."

Peggy sat on the bed... I watched her breasts dance as she towelled her hair. "I couldn't have guessed." When she reached over and took hold of my semi-stiff cock I slapped her hand away.

She wasn't going to take any crap from me either. She laughed at me and when she put her fingers back on me she was gripping hard. "I've got less than an hour," she said, looking up at Kon. "I know I have a pretty ordinary body, especially next to her's but it knows how to have fun."

I could feel more than see Kon's approval. The new me had to begin now or he may never get another chance. I reached out to the hand that was holding my cock, gripped her by the wrist and pulled her towards me. She came with the agility of a teenager.

When I looked up at Kon there must have been panic in my eyes because she laughed. "She's always going to go home to her husband and kids."

After she put my coffee down on the night table she sat down on the bed cross-legged, holding her mug in both hands and blowing into it.

"I'm speechless," I said, meaning it.

"You were speechless last night, too. It's about time you started communicating... I'm doing all the work here."

I tried to grin. "Not all of it."

"That wasn't supposed to be work."

I sat bolt upright, pissed at her constant upper-hand. "OK, what do you want out of me, just tell me."

"I told you. I've decided on you, I want you to decide on me then we can start looking for our balance point."

"Our balance point," I repeated, not entirely sure what she meant.

She grinned her gums. "Think of it as our sweet spot."

"Is everything about sex with you?"

"A lot of it: I think about it a lot; I do it with my self a lot; I write about it a lot, and I want you for it a lot... but for everything else, too. It's the everything else that we have to work on."

"You want me to decide on you. You expect me to do that now?"

"No, but you have to show me it's a possibility — and you haven't yet. And you have to decide if we're going to Europe together."

"And you want to go... in, like, a couple of days?"

"Ya."

"So, we're going to have to buy plane tickets today... that means I pretty much have to decide now."

"So decide. You're not going to get a better deal than me... prettier maybe but..."

"I'm not going to decide, I don't work that way."

"Fine." She swung her leg over my body and made to get off the bed.

I grabbed her leg and pulled her back. "So, what are you going to do? Leave?"

"This is all about giving and sharing to me, that's what I'm in it for. Do I really want to give and share with someone who treats me like a pitstop?"

"You haven't given me a chance to treat you like anything, I've been off-balance and back-peddling since you stalked your way into my life." She made to get off the bed again. I didn't let her go. "OK, let's go to Europe, see what happens then make any decisions when we get home."

"Nope. It's all about investing with me. I've done everything I can to get you, if it isn't enough, that's my tough luck."

"OK, fuck you... but you're going to have to teach me how to be a partner, I have no idea how to be one... but you know that."

Gums, a lot of gum — she had a self-satisfied glow. "I knew this was going to work out."

"It hasn't yet."

When she got up on her knees she stretched across me to put her mug on the night table, her breast brushing across my chest. "I'm going to want great sex," I said, unnecessarily but it was on my immediate mind.

"You'll get it." She was grinning; I could see everything was unfolding as she expected.

"And I don't want to lose our arguments every time. I want to win at least 50% of them."

"49%."

"Where are we going to live?"

"Not here that's for sure."

"Well, I'm sure as fuck not living at your place."

"So we'll find a place... you're a writer for God sake; you should be at least part Bohemian. We'll find an interesting place downtown."

It was at just that moment that I realized I was agreeing to turning my whole world entirely upside down for her and I gathered she realized it too because she attacked me, her lips were on mine, she almost sucked the tongue out of my mouth as she lay down on me pressing her pussy hard into my thigh. I took it for a minute then pushed her back. "You're humping my leg!"

"Of course, I'm humping your leg."

I am a die-hard realist. The only flights of fantasy I take are through my writing. I'm trying to get away from this imposed reality; I'm trying to live my life through my imagination more, but try though I do, so far my reality pretty much always trumps my fantasies. To me, living is all about logic, impervious, unassailable logic. Just like science gives us immutable truths, so collective human sanity can be reduced to a blueprint of rational decision-making, a kind of science-like logic that has been boiler-plated by we humans making the same kinds of functional decisions for hundreds of thousands of years. We call them norms, the norms of predictable behaviour.

Where this all breaks down, of course, is in our biases. Take global warming, for instance. All climate scientists agree it's happening and is, at least in part, man caused. When a liberal thinks of global warming she Chicken-Littles it: the sky is falling, the sky is falling. When a conservative thinks of global warming, and he doesn't, he more often than not sticks his head up his ass and simply denies it. So even though the scientific truth is damn near absolute, the variables arrive in how we react to that truth.

I take this as equally true of all logic. Everything has been done before, the logic about how to do everything effectively and efficiently is proven by now. Yet more times than not we either screw up the effectiveness or screw up the efficiency, or both.

This has always seemed entirely counter-intuitive to me. Follow logic and voila; don't and suffer the consequences. I always follow the logic.

Kon never does and it didn't take me long to figure this out: she always yangs when I yin, not some of the time, all of the time, in everything. She puts the toilet seat cover down after she finishes. Why? 'I just do.' Like that's an answer. She puts glasses back in the cupboard when they're still wet. Why? 'They can dry in there.' OK, little things, I get that, but a day is filled with countless little things and every one of them she does differently than I do... every one of them: flipping the cover over the bed and calling it 'made;' never, ever turning out a light; leaving garbage in the drain basket so water pools in the sink — little things, OK, and maybe they aren't too annoying individually but they add up, they accumulate. Just put the fucking toothpaste top back on the fucking toothpaste tube, how hard is that?

I had the 50% rule in mind when I asked her to think about an alternative way of doing some of the things she does: don't put the seat cover down on the toilet, it doesn't need to be down until you want to sit on it; it just isn't necessary to put it down, you know, it's logical not to. If I could win just half my arguments I'd be happy (for now). But no, not a chance, I wasn't going to win any of them. She wasn't going to change anything she does, I could see that immediately. She saw no point in turning out a light if she didn't have to so she didn't and no amount of quoted logic was going to change her mind.

You think less of a person when they're always screwing up... or you think they are. And you think less of yourself when you think less of her — then you aren't enjoying your day... and you're wishing she'd bugger off and leave you with quiet and solitude and efficiency... and you love it when she does, when she goes somewhere and you're alone... you love it for maybe 20 minutes, then you start missing her... and you miss it, all the aggro and you scorn your own anal efficiency... and you think even less of yourself and somehow you start to admire her because she isn't shackled to the very logic you revere, or used to.

In my next two days with her I was totally discombobulated: I didn't know if I was coming or going. Not true, I knew I was going, we were going... to Europe, we bought the tickets after a long argument: where in Europe? That got me back to the logic.

I've been to Europe a half dozen times over the years. I can't say I know Europe well but I sure know it better than a woman who has never been there. So did she listen to any of my suggestions? No, in fact they worked against me: she didn't want to go any place in Europe I had already been to; she didn't want to share the place with my memories — she actually said that.

We argued about it — I argued logic, she argued like she does. "It's why I don't like getting in your bed because of the other women who have been in it."