Southern Comfort Ch. 07

Sonny threw up his hands and stalked from the apartment, slamming the door in his wake. Jon turned his attention to Bob.

"Mr. Jones, you do not want to challenge me on this. Trust me," he warned.

"Jon, she's a grown woman and I'm not going to sit back and let you make all her decisions for her anymore. If she wants to leave with me, then she's leaving with me. Let her decide," Bob argued.

"Alright," Jon agreed. He put his arms around me and looked down into my eyes. "Catin, I want you to stay here with me. Bob wants you to leave with him. Now, he wants to hear it from you. Tell him to go. Now." He lifted my chin with his fingertips and kissed me. "Unless you want him to stay and watch, tell your little playmate to go home," he said again when he stopped kissing me.

I didn't even take my eyes off Jon. "Go home, Bob," I said quietly. He began to sputter a protest. "Like Jon said, unless you want to watch, go home." I pulled Jon's head back down and kissed him again. Bob also slammed the door loudly when he exited. Of course, Jon had only been making a point, and I simply was backing him up when I suggested Bob had the option to stay. But, it was the wording of it that would cause a backlash.

Bob didn't stay mad for long. A couple of nights later, we were hanging out at his apartment watching television together. Something raised the subject of voyeurism and Bob accused me of liking to be watched. He backed up his accusation with the reminder of how we met. I was too busy denying his charges when I pointed out that Jon was the one who got turned on by watching Bob undress me the night of my birthday. It was another simple slip of the tongue.

Bob seemed hysterically amused by it. I figured I would catch some hell for letting it slip and I was sure Bob would be using it to goad Jon for a while to come. I didn't give it much thought past the fact that we all teased one another about our little eccentricities and fetishes on a regular basis. It just wasn't that big of a deal in my eyes.

Bob's ribs weren't completely healed, but after five weeks, he was in good form again. And, he seemed to be feeling particularly amorous on that night. He playfully scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder as he carried me to the bedroom and dumped me in the middle of the bed. He stripped me of my clothes without ceremony and we began a night of sexual fun and games.

We tried out various new methods and positions, some of which were dubious at best. I was particularly doubtful about his ability to support me while hanging upside down in a standing sixty-nine position.

While I was impressed with his physical strength and stamina, I wasn't too comfortable precariously dangling head down several feet above the floor. I could see an accident with severe consequences waiting to happen. It did make me giggle and squeal a lot though every time he shifted my weight because I kept sliding down. Gravity works against you in more ways than one in that endeavor.

Bob kept a smile on my face in so many ways during that time. His sullen, brooding personality seemed to disappear completely, especially when we were together. I began spending less time in the bars and more time being entertained by Bob. When we did go to bars for a drink, it was for a quick one and then we would find ourselves at home on the couch together before ten o'clock most nights.

Even other people began to notice the change in Bob. Our circle of friends was merely an extension of Jon's friends. People started asking, "Where's Bob? Is he coming in tonight?" He and Jon contrasted one another. Together, they drank, joked and laughed, and of course butted heads without making others uneasy.

Where Jon was the quiet romantic in bed, Bob was like a newborn colt. When I was with him, he cavorted about like a child with a new toy. In public, he was always mindful of his image and he was polite and respectful.

At home, he would chase me about the apartment and tackle me unexpectedly. He would head me off by jumping the staircase banister and be laying in wait for me before I could make it to the bottom of the stairs. He gave me piggyback rides from room to room, or just threw me over his shoulder and toted me around.

Bob also developed a taste for just being together. He would lie on the couch and read while I lay on top of him and napped or watched television. Sometimes, he would read to me. He was always good for an impromptu dance to a favorite song.

He began keeping groceries in the apartment and we would cook together from time to time. Occasionally, he would let me do things with him that made him look practically goofy. Like painting his toenails pink while he just lay there and watched, or letting me style his hair in some crazy way. He would wait until I finished, then look in a mirror and say, "I'm not sure this is a style I could get used to, but if you like it, that's all that matters."

The transformation in Bob did take time, but it began with that one night of crazy passionate sex. It would be a couple of days before I realized his motivations for instigating the entire affair.

I arranged to meet him around eight-thirty at the Cypress for drinks first and then a late dinner afterwards. For nearly two weeks, Bob and I both had slacked off on our drinking. We still had evening cocktails, but we were no longer consuming alcohol by the liter anymore. On this night, Bob seemed in no rush to head out to dinner.

We'd had several drinks and I was hungry. The alcohol hit my empty stomach and I was feeling very relaxed while we sat talking. He asked me several times if I had heard from Jon earlier. I told him no and our conversation moved to other matters.

Barry suddenly approached with the bar phone and set it on the bar. "It's for either of you," he informed us offering the receiver up for grabs. Bob snatched it from his hand. He leaned back on his stool and answered with a smug look.

"Hi, Jon. Long time no talk to," he said as if he were expecting the call. He listened for a moment still looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Yeah, she's here with me, of course. I'd be happy to do just that, my friend. See you in a few," he said carefully placing the receiver back down in its cradle.

Jon almost never had me paged at the Cypress. I was curious as to why he had asked for either of us and why he assumed we would be there together.

Bob looked at me casually and said, "We've been summoned. Jon wants to see both of us. Right now." He threw down the straw he was chewing on and asked, "Shall we?"

I hadn't a clue what might have prompted Jon to ask to see us both. I knew it had to be important for him to call the lounge looking for me. On the way to Jon's apartment, I kept asking Bob if he knew what it was all about, but he just shrugged it off.

Five minutes later, Jon let us into his apartment. He was looking about as pissed off as I had ever seen him look before. I tried to put my arms around him to give him a kiss, but he peeled them away and said, "Sit down,Cher."

"What's wrong?" I asked, dropping my purse and taking a seat on the couch.

"Take a seat, Bob," Jon said with some restraint.

"I think I will, Jon. Thanks for offering," Bob said gleefully as he flung himself down in a chair.

Jon was looking from me to Bob as if he was assessing the situation. He took out a joint and lit it passing it to Bob. Then he turned around and picked up a videotape from the entertainment center and held it up for me to see. "Do you know what this is?" he asked me.

"A video tape?" I suggested.

"Yeah. It's a video. Have you seen it?" he inquired.

"I don't know. What is it?" I asked still bewildered as to why Jon had called the meeting.

He didn't say a word. He turned around and stuck it in the VCR as he pushed the play button. The next thing I saw was an image of me on the TV screen. My jaw dropped open.

"Oh, it gets better,Cher," Jon declared in response to my reaction.

I whirled on Bob who was now roaring in laughter. "How the fuck did Jon get that tape?" I demanded. Bob couldn't or wouldn't stop laughing long enough to answer me.

"I got it hand delivered by courier to me from Bob, about seven o'clock this evening. Would you care to explain?" Jon asked. I jumped to my feet, grabbed the remote and fumbled with it trying to turn it off.

"Oh, don't do that, princess! It's just about to get to the good part," Bob said wiping the tears from his eyes. "There's a great climax near the end," he roared.

"Turn it off, Jon!" I said thrusting the remote in his hands.

Jon clicked it off and faced me. "Did you know anything about this?" he asked.

"Do Ilook like I knew anything about it?" I demanded standing my ground. I turned on Bob again. "Bob, how and when did you film that?" I demanded.

"Honey, my whole apartment is video taped 24/7. I assumed you knew it," he chuckled. "I usually just erase the surveillance tapes, but I couldn't resist keeping a copy ofthis one. It's a gift, Jon. Don't you like it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Cindy, you didn't know he was taping you,Cher?" Jon asked calmly.

"No, Jon. Damn it! Do you really think I wouldlet him tape that shit?" I demanded indignantly.

"Oh, don't get your fucking panties in such a wad," Bob chuckled. "It's the only copy. Jon here can destroy it.After he watches it, of course. Youdid watch it, didn't you, Jon?" he asked taunting us both.

"Bob, I suggest you shut the fuck up now," Jon said in a low voice.

"Well, did you watch the whole thing or not?" Bob prodded.

"Jon, please tell me you didn't," I said. "Did you?"

He narrowed his eyes at me and said, "Yeah. I watched it." He didn't look, or sound especially pleased.

"He couldn't resist!" Bob snorted as he burst into a new fit of laughter. "I told you the male ego didn't hold a candle to the fascination for that sort of thing, didn't I, princess?"

"Bob, I swear to god, if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to..." I began.

"You're going towhat, princess?" Bob interrupted me. "I really didn't think you would mind too much. After all, you two did invite me to watch. I wasn't interested at the time. I just thought I'd return the favor to my good buddy, Jon. Hewas interested enough to watch though, weren't you, Jon?"

"Cindy, I want to talk to you. You'll excuse us for a minute, Bob?" Jon said calmly. He headed to the bedroom and I followed. He closed the door and said, "Are you okay?"

"No, Jon. I'mnot okay!" I whispered. "He's been taping us together. That pisses me off. How the fuck do I know the copy you have is the only one?" I demanded keeping my voice down.

"You don't. And, my guess is, it's not the only one," Jon said seriously. "Are you worried about him taking it to your husband?" he asked with a scowl.

"You know I'm not worried about that. I just don't want that kind of shit floating around. I didn't give him permission to tape anything in the first goddamned place. The only reason he gave you that is because he thought it would piss you off enough to stop seeing me."

"I know. I've got Mr. Jones' number. Don't worry about it," he said running his hand down my arm and trying to reassure me. "I know how to put a stop to it," he said giving me a look.

"How?" I asked, cocking my head at him.

"Your grandfather owned a farm. How do you stop a dog that kills chickens,Cher?" he asked.

"Youshoot the motherfucker!" I snapped. "Are you volunteering to shoot Bob for me? Because right now, I'll sure as hell spring for the fucking ammo."

Jon chuckled. "No, I'm not going to shoot him. Not yet, anyway. You're just pissed off, but stop and think about it. How do you stop a biscuit eater, kitten?"

I sighed and thought about what I had heard my grandfather say many years before. "You tie a dead chicken around his neck and let it rot off," I said. "Are you going to tie a chicken carcass to Bob?" I demanded with suspicion. "I'm not sure that will work, Jon," I said with doubt.

Jon burst into laughter. "No," he said when he stopped laughing. "I'm just going to apply the same principle. That is, if you agree."

"What the hell are you babbling about now?" I asked.

"You and that video are Bob's dead chicken," he said.

"How do you figure that?" I was completely confused.

"Bob wanted no part of seeing us together. We both counted on that. And, yet he used the tape of you two together to try and break us up. We just turn the tables on him. Simple as that," Jon shrugged.

"How?" I asked.

"Invite him to watch again," he said. "My guess is that Bob will get all the taste of that sort of thing he can stand in about two seconds. He's a possessive man,Cher. He stormed out of here last time because you kissed me." He flashed me a wicked grin. "By the way, I thought the tape was good. I think I'll keep it just to make sure no one else sees it, you understand."

"Oh, I think you are enjoying this a little too much to suit me,Mon Cher. You're going dispose of that tape. Do you hear me?" I demanded with my hand on my hip.

"Are you sure you didn't agree to make it just for me?" he teased.

"Are you completely insane? Between the two of you, you're going to drive me crazy," I snorted at him. "Are these games between the two of you ever going to stop?"

"Probably not. Not as long as there's a you, a me and a him. I warned you not to fuck him, but you wouldn't listen. And, I hate to admit this, but after watching that tape, I can almost understand why you do," he said with a chuckle. "You do surprise me sometimes, Kitten."

"We'll discuss that later if you don't mind,Cher? Right now, I'm still trying to figure out how to handle his ass. I'm coming up blank," I said shaking my head.

"I'm telling you how to handle it. Bob has too much ego. He'll get all of it he cares to after one time. Trust me on this," he said.

"Jon, I'm not fucking both of you at the same time. I mean it!" I said adamantly.

"You won't have to. All you have to do is make Bobthink that's what you're after. He's jealous enough of you that you may never hear from him again," Jon warned.

"I don't know, Jon," I said warily. Jon wasn't aware of Bob's recent proposal to me. But, Jon did have a valid point. What man in his right mind would want to share any woman with another man? It simply wasn't done in those days.

The concept ofménage a trios may have been accepted in European cultures, but it was still taboo even among American liberals. Voyeurism was highly frowned upon as well. People with a fetish for watching others were labeled as 'peeping toms' and there were strictly enforced laws against it.

Others reluctantly accepted my separate relationships with both Jon and Bob simply because they saw me as being on the cutting edge as one of the first women who demanded equal rights in the dating department.

If men could date different women at the same time, why shouldn't a woman do the same thing without being labeled a whore? They even made breakfast cereals available in variety packs. Why couldn't, or shouldn't, I be able to exorcise my tastes for a variety of men?

Bob had sent Jon the video in hopes it would end any interest Jon had in me. Despite his dismay, Jon wasn't that easy to dissuade where I was concerned. I wasn't happy about the prospect of losing Bob entirely either, but I was terribly upset with him at the moment. It would serve him right if his prank blew up in his face. I reluctantly agreed to Jon's idea.

When Jon and I emerged from the bedroom again, it was with the idea of maintaining a united front and teaching Bob a lesson. Jon sauntered into the living room and paused to light a joint, passing it to Bob before he said, "Well, Bob, I'm not happy about how this whole thing has worked out. But, I know when I'm beat," he declared.

Bob hit the joint and leaned back in his chair looking smug. His self-satisfied expression didn't last. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head before I tossed it aside. Bob seemed startled for a moment.

"What are you two up to now?" he asked with suspicion as he took another hit and passed the joint back to Jon.

"I'm not up to anything, Bob. I told you. You win," Jon shrugged. He hit the joint, passed it to Bob again, and wrapped one arm around my waist from behind. He whispered in my ear, "Make it look real,Cher."

Jon ran his hands over my satin teddy and sank his teeth into my neck. It was unexpectedly painful and my reaction was quite real. Jon had no idea how close I came to decking him at that moment. Bob tilted his head and gave us both a curious look, but said nothing.

"Sexy as hell, c'est pas?" Jon asked as he continued to caress me and kiss my shoulders. Bob's expression was passive and he appeared nearly bored. I could tell from his eyes that he was already high and perhaps beyond falling into his own trap. I got an uneasy feeling and was about to call the entire thing to a halt.

Bob interrupted suddenly and his tone was gruff. "What exactly have I won, Jon? It appears to me that the 'spoils' are still in your hands at present," he grumbled.

Jon gave me a slight squeeze to prompt me to speak up, but I hesitated a little too long to suit him. He spoke for me instead. "Well, Bob, the last time she invited you to stay and watch, you weren't interested. The invitation still stands. Would you care to stay and watch this time?" he taunted Bob as he slid his hand between my thighs for effect.

"Like hell, I'll stay and watch!" Bob snarled as he jumped to his feet. He stomped to the door and stopped short. Instead, he locked the deadbolt and turned to face us with his arms stubbornly folded across his chest. "You two want to play? Let's play!" he said with a firm nod of his head.

I dropped my arms from around Jon's neck and sighed heavily. "Anymore brilliant ideas, Jon?" I asked looking back at him over my shoulder.

Jon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, Kitten, the man said he wants to play, and I'm fresh out of dead chickens. What do you think? Are we all in, or do we fold?"

**********

I woke first, and after glancing at the clock, realized I had forty minutes to make it to work on time. My car was still at the Cypress. I untangled the limbs that were holding me down and sat up. My head was still spinning, but I managed to crawl to the foot of the bed and escape. I grabbed my clean uniform from the top dresser drawer and quietly made my way to the bathroom.

I showered, threw my hair in a braid, donned my uniform and quietly slipped out the bedroom door. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to subdue my laughter. I left them both curled up like kittens in a basket of yarn with one another. I would have liked to have stayed and seen their faces when they woke to find me gone. Instead, I walked to work at a brisk pace.

I managed to beat the time clock by two minutes. The first thing I did was to make myself a Bloody-Mary to relieve the on-coming hangover. I was proud of the fact I never got hangovers, but the truth was I seldom stopped drinking long enough to get a hangover. My recent cutbacks in my alcohol consumption brought on the first hangover I'd had in years.

The lunch rush was in full swing. I was slammed, but I was feeling fine and was in a really good mood. Neither Jon nor Bob had showed as yet, but Ivan had come in early. He was keeping me company and we were carrying on a light banter as I worked to keep up with the high demand for alcohol. Suddenly, I was paged to the phone at the hostess desk. I took the call with an annoyed tone.

I had barely gotten out a 'hello' when I heard my mother's voice. She said my name and then she became hysterical. I could understand nothing she was saying. I kept raising my voice to ask over and over for her to repeat what she was trying to tell me. After dozens of attempts to understand, I got the names of my two sisters, their children and the word 'dead'.