The Cliff House Curse

******

Day two: This time Zephyr meets me at the door. She's wearing a little silk robe, and I know what she's got on underneath. NOTHING!. Her hair is all combed and flowing like a renaissance queen, and she smells all flowery and incensey at the the same time.

"You're posing with me today," she says, batting her eyelashes, "but remember, no fooling around." She furrows her brow, trying to be serious, and I wonder if this is where I'm supposed to kiss her. Just as I'm about to pucker, Redcloud appears out of thin air.

"Hey Pete, your aura's really over the top today." He shakes my hand like he's in a hurry to get started. "This piece is coming along better than I thought."

I'm guessing, because of his insanely good mood, he must've gotten laid this morning, and that's the reason Zephyr smells so nice, because she had to take a shower afterwards, and now I'm really jealous.

"I think we'll have this wrapped up by noon" he says, smiling his old hippie smile, and I forgive him for fucking my sweetheart. After all, she is his wife, even though he's not worthy of her. "Shall we?" He motions towards the stairs, and we traipse to our destiny, although his destiny might be down on the rocks where the Hollywood starlet died. I haven't decided yet.

"You know the drill," he says, looking at his palette. I hide behind the screen to strip and watch as Zephyr lets her robe fall off her shoulders. She hangs it on a chair and assumes Monique's position. God she's gorgeous. She makes Monique seem like a real lightweight. Yep, Zephyr's all woman. Just the right ratio of curves to bulges. A perfect feat of engineering.

I hold my towel in front of me until my back is turned, and then it lands on the chair. Reaching around Zephyr's waist to cup her boob, I notice she's quite a bit softer than Monique, but I'm not complaining, just marveling at her perfection.

"Up a little Pete" Redcloud commands. "You know, with your hand?" I lift her breast gently, and it's quite a bit heavier than Monique's was. She lets out a quiet sigh.

Redcloud starts working, and my dick starts rising and falling like the waves out on the ocean, only a lot slower. Erect. Not erect. Erect. Not erect. I'm wondering what I'm going to do when we take a break and he heads for the stairs and sees me in all my purple glory. Lucky for me, break time comes when the tide is out, and I'm not busted.

We go through the break routine, he runs downstairs, she rubs my back, I get a hard-on, and she makes sure Redcloud doesn't see it when he returns. Could a woman possibly be any more perfect than Zephyr? I don't think so.

About an hour and a half, and six erections later he announces "We're done. What do you think?" Zephyr hops off her stool, grabs her robe, and tosses me my towel.

"I don't look like that, do I?" she frowns, staring at the canvas. "I didn't realize how little my tits were." She lifts her tits up and looks at them in disbelief. Christ, she can almost put them in her mouth. Redcloud rolls his eyes.

"Come on, take a look Pete." he say as he pulls his wife's robe closed. Greedy bastard. Wants those tits all to himself huh? Those are the kind of tits that should be passed around like a joint of really good pot.Don't bogart those tits, my friend!

"What do you think?" Redcould asks.

You don't want to know what I think, you tit-hogging asshole. "Wow."Wow, it is utter shit, just like you said yesterday, but Monique's cunt came out pretty good.

"Yeah Pete," Zephyr says, batting her eyes at me, "you look really good on canvas. Don't you think so Hon?"

Redcloud nods thoughtfully, like he's not real sure yet. "We'll have to do this again sometime," he says, pulling out his fancy hippie wallet with the yin and yang symbols on it. He hands me two wrinkled hundreds. "Keep the change." He smiles at me, like I'm supposed to thank him for his generosity.

Asshole.

"You're staying for lunch, right?" Zephyr asks.

"Yeah, stay for lunch Pete," the asshole says, "you deserve it." He slaps me on the back. "You worked your ass off these last two days."

"I was surprised at how sore I was last night" I say, stupidly. They clomp down the stairs together, laughing and having a grand old time, and I pull my pants on, fuming like the jealous idiot that I've become. It's high school all over again, and I'm ready to kick some ass.

I take my time getting dressed, just in case they need to have a quickie before I come down. Sure enough, I'm sitting at the dining table a good ten minutes before they come traipsing up the stairs from the lower level, where I assume their bedroom must be. He's smiling like a pig in shit, and her hair's all wet around her neck, like she's been sweating, and she's changed into a tiny denim mini dress and a really sheer, snug, low cut white tank top, with, of course, NO BRA. You can see her big brown silver dollar-sized nipples through the fabric without even trying.

As she walks by I notice a wet streak trickling down the inside of her thigh. I feel my heart break into a million little pieces, all different colors like the paint on Redcloud's palette. But I smile good-naturedly, and when they light a joint and pass it to me, I take a hit, not wanting to appear lame or uncool. I mean, after all, I am sitting here with the coolest couple in Big Sur. I should be honored, not heartbroken and pissed.

Zephyr sets our salads down and I take the high road (since I'm high) and I look out the window while her tits jiggle like jello in my face.

"So Pete, college eh?" Redcloud asks, peering at me skeptically.

"Yeah. Engineering," I say, my voice oddly disconnected from my body. I have to think really hard before I speak. This is pretty good pot. "You're not real thrilled with college, huh?"

He laughs. "Oh, you're talking about yesterday? I just said that to see if I could get a rise out of Monique. I like to see what people are made of." He looks at me, and it feels like he's looking right through me. Must be the pot, right? I've got nothing to be paranoid about. Not me. Not unless he's got this place under video surveillance.

Oh fuck!

"What are you made of Pete?" he asks, like a wise-ass game show host. "Do you want to fuck my wife?" He looks at me, smiling, or is he sneering? All of a sudden my mouth is really dry, I reach for my water, and knock it over.

"Actually sir, um...."

Zephyr throws a kitchen towel on my spill, and continues picking at her salad, pretending I'm not even there.

"Actually sir, um, I was thinking more along the lines of fucking Monique."

"What?' he gasps, incredulous, "you don't think my wife is attractive?"

"Of course she's attractive."

"Well, what is it then? Is she too old?" He glares at me. "She's in her sexual prime, you know. You'd be a fool not to want to fuck my wife. Look at this ass."

She's just getting up to go fetch the rabbit food sandwiches when he grabs her hair and yanks her head down, bending her over with her butt cheeks right in front of me. "Have you ever seen a more splendid ass than this?" He pulls her skirt up, and her puffy pink cunt is indeed quite inviting, although a little sloppy looking, what with that long stream of jizz running down her leg, and the sticky wetness between her ass cheeks. But he doesn't even look, because he's been staring at this cunt for the last what, ten, fifteen years?

"Yes sir," I admit, "she does have a nice ass, but I still don't want to fuck her. No, offense, it's just that, that...."

"What is it? Speak up boy! You can tell me." He lets go of her hair and she straightens up, shoving her boobs back into her tiny top, since they've fallen out.

"It's cause she's your wife, sir"

"That's the only reason? Cause she's my WIFE? What a WIMP! You're PITIFUL! You've got to learn to live a little. Take a chance! Go for the gold!" He turns, grabs his wife's wrist and jerks her closer. "How many men have you fucked since we've been married?"

"Come on RC," she moans, "he's only twenty." She looks at me helplessly, and, for the first time, I start thinking maybe we're in deep shit here.

"DAMMIT! TELL HIM!" He yanks her wrist around behind her back and gives it a twist.

"No, please, don't" she whimpers, cringing, obviously in pain.

"A couple hundred? Isn't that about right? A COUPLE HUNDRED?" He shoves her across the kitchen and she lands on her ass, knees up to her chest, her lower lip quivering.

I spring into action, amazing myself with my bravado. "Alright motherfucker! Nobody shoves a woman around in front of me!" I grab him by the front of the shirt, drag him out of his chair, and slam him against the wall. Before I have a chance to smash his face in, he starts laughing like a maniac. Next thing I know Zephyr's laughing too, clinging to me, trying to pull me off her old man. "What the fuck?" I turn him loose and he collapses on the floor, giggling like an idiot.

"He was testing you Peter," Zephyr blurts, spitting saliva into my ear. "He was testing you!" She's laughing so hard she's got tears running down her face. "And you passed!"

"Just wanted to see what you were made of," Redcloud blubbers. It takes him a few moments to catch his breath. Then he sits up on the floor. "That was excellent, Peter, excellent. Here, help me up." He reaches for my hand and I pull him up. "Yes, I think you'll do fine." He takes my hand and shakes it firmly. "Just wanted to see what you were made of." He starts laughing again and then we all sit down for lunch, as if this sort of thing is perfectly normal.

"Uh, darling," he addresses his wife, pointing at her right boob. She looks down, startled, and tucks it back into her miniature tank top.

"Sorry" She looks at him sheepishly.

"That's alright dear," he says lovingly. He pats her hand and then they proceed to munch at their salads while I stare in disbelief, wondering if I just imagined all this, or if it actually happened. I guess I shouldn't have smoked that pot. Rich people's pot. I should've known better.

"Come on Peter, eat your food," Redlcloud says, seeming genuinely concerned about my welfare. "You can't keep that marvelous body in shape if you don't eat." He stabs a cucumber slice with his fork and ponders it for a moment. "That reminds me," he says, looking over at me fondly, "can you come back on Thursday? We ran out of film for the old polaroid, and I'd like to get your photo in my file, for future referrals."

"Sure," I stammer, wondering why he doesn't have a digital camera. I suppose if you're a counter-culture rebel, a digital camera would be some sort of cop out, so I dismiss the thought and return to the conversation, which seems to be occurring in a very far away place.Damn that pot.

"I have to stop by and help my buddy raise some roof beams in the morning," I say, watching as the words float out of my mouth like drunk butterflies. "I could stop by after that." I'm afraid to look at Zephyr, so I keep staring at my food.

"Later?" he says, an air of disappointment in his voice. "Well, I guess that'll work. You'll be here won't you dear?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Zephyr says, getting up to fetch the sandwiches.

"Great. You've got a real classic look about you Pete. I've got a feeling you're going to be one of my most requested models. You and Monique. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He flashes me a sly grin and I nod in agreement, afraid to talk. I'd hate to set him off again. What a lunatic.

The lovebirds are acting like they're going to have to go downstairs and fuck again, so after a quick and strangely silent lunch, I let myself out. The Cliff House. What a fucking looney bin.

******

Day three: I speed down the coast drumming the dashboard, checking my hair in the rear view mirror. My big chance has finally arrived, my opportunity to consummate my love for Zephyr. I've got my truck going 90 on the straight-aways, which is something it hasn't done since I was in high school. I round the last corner and my heart sinks. There's a beat up Sentra parked in the Cliff House pullout, which means Zephyr's got company.Shit!

I climb out of my truck and realize that my sister has a car like that. What kind of rotten luck is this? She's been partying with Zephyr and Redcloud a lot lately, but why did she have to pick today? She started out as a model for the old man, and now she's like part of the family. I'll admit it's done her a world of good. No more of those black moods, those Jekyll and Hyde scenes where the innocent little angel turns into a sinister monster in the blink of an eye.

Caroline was a good kid, conscientious, caring, maybe a little homely looking, but not evil. I think because of her "plainness" Dad might have spoiled her a little bit. He was always giving in to her so that he wouldn't have to deal with one of her temper tantrums. She could really get into it, crying herself into a frenzy till you'd think she was going to gag on her tongue and stop breathing. It got scary sometimes, and the results even landed an innocent man in jail on false rape charges.

The trouble started in high school, when every other girl except Caroline had tits. The taunting and the tormenting got to her, and kind of turned her sour for a while. With no friends to turn to, she got into swimming and gymnastics. I suppose it was a way to prove herself, and maybe build up her chest a little, and also learn how to kick some ass if it became necessary. And, unfortunately, in her mind, it did.

The first incident came about when a couple of boys were hassling her on the way home from school, asking her if she'd go out on a date with them. One of them was trying to pull her T-shirt up. Sis lost her temper and grabbed his fingers, bending them backwards till they broke. She'd been getting pretty good on the parallel bars, and her hands were really strong. She called it the Grip of Steel. So, while this guy's fingers were being broken by the Grip of Steel, the other boy jumped in. As if in a Jackie Chan movie, she took him out with a quick fist to the throat that dropped him like a sack of potatoes. I think she amazed herself at how easy it was to take charge of the situation. After that, she went through life like a speed boat leaving a trail of battered and broken bodies in its wake.

There was Priscilla Collins, the big-titted cheerleader who snagged the one and only boy Caroline was ever interested in. Priscilla ended up having a mysterious accident. Apparently, she fell down a flight of concrete stairs in the library. She survived, but her broken elbow never healed right, leaving her looking like a chicken when she walked.

Then there was Becky, a friend of Sis who became more than a friend, if you know what I mean. Even I figured out what was going on between them in her room after school, and I didn't have a clue back in those days. Things were going great till Becky met a guy she really liked, and decided she wasn't a lesbian after all. Of course, this was devastating to my sister. It was even more devastating when Becky suffered a horrible swimming accident at the diving pool. Apparently her swim suit got snagged on the drain grate down at the bottom, and even though my sister was able to free her, Becky never recovered. She remains in a vegetative state to this day.

Then there was Mr. Fletcher, Caroline's senior year counselor. He had to call Sis into his office one day to talk to her about a fight she'd instigated during lunch. Unfortunately for him, Caroline was in an extremely bad mood, and when she emerged from his office a ten minutes later, crying hysterically, claiming Mr. Fletcher had "done things" to her, he got arrested. After his conviction, Sis got a two-million dollar settlement.

Yes, sis could go a little haywire now and then, but ever since she'd been hanging out with Zephyr and Redcloud, waiting to turn twenty-one so she could collect her money, she had mellowed out considerably.

So I'm down there at the bottom of the Cliff House driveway, wondering if my wacky sister is ruining my date with Zephyr by accident, or on purpose? Surely she couldn't have known about it, so I decide it's just a coincidence, and I tell myself she's probably leaving anyway, heading up to her job at Nepenthe.

I knock on the door and wait. I knock on the door again and wait. I decide that fate has dealt me a bad hand, and I turn around to leave when Zephyr finally opens the door and peeks out.

"Pete?" She looks sleepy, confused, smelling like wine and pot. And pussy?

"I was supposed to come over after you got a new roll of film, for the photo shoot. Remember?"

She scrunches up her nose, trying to think. "That's right," she smiles, opening the door. She yells over her shoulder "it's Pete, honey." She pulls her robe shut and invites me in. "We were out on the deck" she says with a faraway look in her eyes. "In the hot tub," she adds, as an afterthought. "Here." She hands me a half smoked joint and I follow her into the sunken living room.

She stops abruptly, and points to a sketch on the wall. "Did you see this one? It's RC's first wife." I turn to look at it, and I see out of the corner of my eye that she's kicking something under the couch. I peer at the drawing of his first wife, wondering what it was Zephyr didn't want me to see that's now under the couch. She slides her arm in mine and asks "what do you think?"

"I think you're a ten times more happening chick than his ex."

"Oh Pete, you're so sweet." She gives me a little peck on the cheek, and the pussy smell coming off her face is overpowering. But in a good way.

"You've got company today?" I ask, knowing the answer. "Carrie's here." She smiles brightly.

"Cool" I say, taking the joint.

"Want some wine?" she asks, politely.

"Sure" I say, watching as she veers unsteadily into the kitchen. I stand by the dining table, and my eyes wander back into the living room. There's a pair of white panties on the floor by the window, a T-shirt under the piano bench, cut-offs on the chair, and a bra hanging from a potted plant. Looks like somebody's been having fun around here.

She hands me a glass of red wine and scurries off. "I'll be in the bathroom, OK?"

A moment later I hear the two of them giggling down the hall. I wander out to the living room, sit down on the white leather couch, and take another hit of their kick ass dope.Jesus, what am I doing? I need to put this damn thing out. I look around for an ashtray and spot an open tube of KY jelly curled up on the driftwood coffee table.Hmmm.

I reach under the couch and my fingers touch something that feels vaguely familiar. I pull out a double ended dildo. The thing's at least a foot long, all slimy on the ends. I can smell it from arms length, and I start to get the picture. Then I hear someone padding down the hall so I put the dildo back. No need to upset them. If they don't want me to know they're fucking, then fine, I won't know.

"Pete, what's going on?" Caroline stumbles in, holding a yellow towel in front of her, and sits down across from me on the rainbow futon. She looks confused.

"You OK sis?"

"I think I lost my clothes," she giggles, looking around the room. Obviously she's got a pretty good buzz on. "We were in the hot tub" she says unconvincingly. She spies her wine glass on the floor, reaches down for it, and her boob falls out. She's got those high, wide, perky breasts, the kind you might see on a swimmer. She takes a big swig of the wine and leans back, eyes closed, peaceful, boob hanging out.

She's built a lot like me, narrow waist, broad, firm shoulders, and I suppose if a guy wasn't her big brother he'd think she was okay looking, especially wearing nothing but a towel. Her short dark hair and wide, plain face give her that girl-jock look, only now, girl-jock takes on a whole new meaning. Girl Dildo Operator is more like it.