The Scat Lovers Ch. 22

Gordon was one of the few club members who lived in a town with several streets and parks and a downtown Main Street with shops and stores. Whenever he walked to the park closest to him or to a convenience store he frequented, he would pass a house, typical of most others in the neighborhood, only with a sideyard instead of a backyard that was taken up by a smallish in-ground swimming pool. The pool was shielded from the street by thick shrubbery, but he found certain convenient breaches in this armor that allowed him to view inside. In the summertime he sometimes espied a gorgeous bikini-clad (once topless) woman sitting around the pool, sometimes alone, other times with company. He often fantasized about meeting this woman, and found himself taking more frequent walks past her house than necessary with the hope of doing so. But so far, no luck.

One summer day there was a minor traffic accident at the closest intersection to this woman's house that drew a crowd. Gordon just happened to be walking by at the time, when he saw her standing by herself surveying the scene. She was smoking a cigarette and had an air of total nonchalance about her; she was wearing a colorful buttoned blouse with the bottom tied into a knot exposing a flat, tanned midsection and light blue cutoffs. He seized the opportunity and walked over to her.

"Hi," he said to her as friendly as he could. "Doesn't look like anyone was hurt."

"No," she replied, looking at him pleasantly. "It was very minor. It's about the third time in the last six months that someone has run that stop sign, though." She told him her name was Amara and pointed out where she lived (which, of course, he already knew).

"I'm Gordon," he said. "I live a couple of blocks from here, but often come past if I'm walking to the park. I've always admired your home and, of course, your swimming pool, one of the few in the neighborhood."

"Thanks," she said. "My husband and I enjoy it a lot." So, she was married, Gordon said to himself, and then, as if she were reading his mind, she added, "But he's away on a business trip now." She wondered how he would react to that information. His blank look suddenly radiated a smile, which caused her to smile as well, seeing right through him.

"What does your husband do?" he asked.

"Leon is a sales manager for a pharma company, in charge of its eastern offices. He's on the road a lot." That was the second time in less than a minute she told him her husband wasn't around. Coincidence? He really didn't want to make this conversation about her husband, so asked whether she knew the people standing around, her neighbors, well.

"No, not really. Most are a bit older than me, with families. We don't have a lot in common." They talked about that a little bit, and she told him about a young woman she was becoming friendly with, only she moved away to be closer to home when her father took ill with cancer.

Okay, he thought, it was time to get more personal. "Your pool area is very private, I see, though you might not be aware of this, and why I'm telling you, I don't know, since it goes against my interests, but there are a couple of spots anybody could look in from the sidewalk." She had a vague notion of what he was referring to, but chose to play along.

"Really," she said, showing only amused concern. "We'll have to do something about that." Then looking at him she added in a playful tone, "And what might they see, these oglers?"

"A very beautiful woman sunbathing naked might be one thing," he replied, about as tastefully daring as he could be, though not quite completely accurate.

"Are you a voyeur, Gordon?" she asked, smiling. That was a bit forward, she thought. Naked? Certainly not unheard of, but she would have been very careful about that.

"Only an interested party," he answered, "as any normal male would be. I witnessed that only once, by the way, and you weren't really naked, just topless. And I didn't stand there gawking." He felt himself sinking, but unable to stop digging.

"You didn't?" she countered still smiling, but with mock disappointment in her tone. "Didn't you like what you saw?"

"Of course I did. Didn't I already say you were beautiful?" he returned.

She felt the need to exert herself now. "It's a shame I don't know your schedule for walking to the park," she declared, a slight edge to her voice, "if you have one, or I could sunbathe topless, even naked more often and more conveniently for you."

He sighed slightly, trying to remain light and friendly, "Ah, Amara, I upset you. I'm sorry, no harm meant." They were both silent after that, which was discouraging. Usually Gordon was pretty good thinking on his feet like this, but he must have been having an off day. She could sense his wheels spinning, trying to think of a way to get on solid ground again, and saw his eyes staring at the front of her blouse. She looked at him steadily, saying nothing, though her eyes said plenty.

Seeing her glaring at him, Gordon mumbled rather lamely, "Err, I like your blouse; it's very colorful, pretty."

"You mean you wish I was topless, don't you." It would be wrong to say she sounded angry, just a bit sarcastic. And blunt.

She was happy with that come-back, though half hoped it didn't totally discourage him. She already had a good feeling about him. But Gordon, figuring she was about to turn around and walk away, and thus he was at the end of his rope and had nothing to lose, said almost off-handidly, "Well, not out here on the sidewalk. But someplace more private, like inside your pool area, sure. Sounds great." He knew it might be the last thing he ever said to her.

But instead of dismissing him, she looked at him and laughed gently. "I've got to admit, Gordon, you are persistent. Most men, I think, would have waved a white flag by now and decided to leave." She was actually relieved.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Just testing your mettle, that's all. No shrinking violet; I like that." It was like they were in a tennis match, the ball in her court, then in his. Or were they playing doubles, both on the same side? Then she asked, "Would you like to come in for a beer or something cool?"

Naturally he said yes. They took a couple of steps when she halted and looked at him. "Forgive my asking, but you aren't married, are you?"

"Free and clear," he said, smiling.

They went into the house and she grabbed a beer from the fridge for each of them. She led them out to the pool area, and he saw a whole section he'd never spotted from the sidewalk: a well-protected concrete patio with a drain in the center of it, comfortable patio furniture about, and a shower to the side. He immediately thought of Suzy's farm; both their pool areas had a lot in common, though Amara's was much smaller and confined.

They sat and talked. Amara was very sure of herself, not shy in any way, and comported herself according to her own rules; she spoke freely about most things, as if beating about the bush was a waste of energy. She didn't come across as a know-it-all, however, eager to preach to you, just not afraid to offer her opinion, take it or leave it. She said when she saw Gordon walking towards her on the sidewalk she began to feel pleased and thought he may be "interesting."

"Now there's a word that conjures up all kinds of images," he said.

"Really? What kind of images?"

"Well, certainly not of me talking to you about minor traffic accidents and running stop signs."

"Not very interesting at all," she agreed.

"I have to admit," he maintained, avoiding her question, "that something you said to me I found very interesting."

"What was that?"

"That your husband was away on a business trip. Twice, actually, when we first started talking."

"I see you pay attention," she replied smiling. "I told you that in order to get it out of the way and because it's the truth. I figured you would wonder about that right from the start... does she have a husband, boyfriend... so I told you. What did that make you think?"

"That if I was going to hit on you, my chances were good, but not 100% guaranteed. Not yet."

"Just what I wanted you to think. That's good." They were sitting on a padded wooden glider, she at one end, he at the other. She suddenly felt the urge to make physical contact with him, but wasn't sure how without throwing herself at him. She thought of something and decided it would be a bit brazen, but not too reckless. She stretched her bare legs out and put them across his thighs. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not." He carefully placed a hand on her calves and stroked her legs, from her knee down. They were smooth and firm. His chances were improving in leaps and bounds, he thought.

She liked the way he touched her, gently yet in control. Then she said, "Perhaps I can tell you something else now you might find interesting. Leon and I have an open marriage. We've partnered with other people, sometimes together, sometimes not."

"Fascinating," he said. "I can relate to that, to a certain degree."

"Wait a minute. You told me you weren't married."

"Widowed."

"Oh, Gordon, I'm sorry. So young." And he told her about Lana (leaving out what they most intimately shared, of course) and how she died. He also told her how they had occasionally "swung" with a group of very close friends. "So, yeah, I can relate."

"A few of my friends are shocked by my marital arrangement," Amara said. "They can't understand how it could possibly work, what with jealousy and deception always hovering over everything."

"Being open and honest can often combat those two evils. Deception, anyway."

"True. Being straightforward is probably the key. But I don't know if anything can defeat that old tyrant jealousy once it grabs hold."

"So, you're going to tell Leon all about my visit today?"

"Sure, I suppose so. Though there isn't very much to tell."

"Yet," he insinuated.

She smiled, but remained silent. Thoughts of what it might be like making love with him began circulating her mind.

It was about this time Gordon became pretty confident that unless her house suddenly caught fire or her phone rang giving her some tragic news, Amara and he would be in each other's arms before the afternoon or evening was through. Nothing could please him more. She was a gorgeous woman, but also intriguing. What else could he learn about her?

They talked about other personal matters. About herself she said she once was an administrative assistant in the same company Leon works; in fact, that's where they met, but left it to do freelance writing. Much of her time was her own now, which she occupied working on a novel she was writing. He was curious about that and asked her about it.

"It's a mystery/crime story," she said, "I got the basic idea while on one of Leon's business trips I took with him. I used to go with him more often than I do now. I still go with him when he needs to go to the sexier cities like Miami or New Orleans. Those trips are usually pretty memorable."

"I suppose you won't reveal any plot details, will you?"

"No, sorry. It's probably hotter than most mystery novels, there's a strong erotic element to it. In fact, I may have to tone some of it down or it might be mistaken for just a porn novel that has some mystery elements thrown in. Does that whet your appetite?"

"I'll be sure to buy a copy, don't worry," he told her. "Hopefully, you'll sign it for me."

She smiled and said, "Of course."

Then Gordon said, feeling more and more comfortable, "You know, if you tell me about one of those erotic scenes you alluded to, I may even buy two copies."

She laughed and said, "I wonder if you would need to."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh, it just made me think of someone I know who told me she had to buy a second copy of Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson, you probably never heard of her, because while reading it over and over she touched herself so often with the same finger she used to turn the pages that they started to curl from the wetness. Quite a ringing endorsement, that, though she was probably exaggerating."

"You might want to use that as a selling point for your male customers," he commented. '"Men, buy a spare copy for when all the pages in your original are stuck together from masturbating.' You'd sell millions of copies on the hype alone."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right," she agreed, laughing.

They were silent for a bit, and then he said, "Well, are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"One of those erotic scenes."

She shook her head and laughed. "You are relentless. You just won't quit, will you!" she chastised him good-naturedly.

"No, not usually," he returned. "Be forewarned."

Several scenes flashed through her mind that she could describe for him, but for some reason she couldn't quite explain to herself, felt the urge to relate perhaps the most sexually outlandish episode in the novel. "Okay," she sighed, and felt herself take a deep breath and suddenly felt a wetness in her vagina. "One of those settings in the novel involves a bondage scene: a man has a mistress who has a dungeon in her basement and forces him to do all kinds of kinky nasty things, including being whipped and caned. It's not excessively violent or bloody, but heavy on the forced degradation." She was surprised at how suddenly aroused she felt.

"Not exactly my thing," he said. "But lots of people would find that enticing."

"It's not my thing, either," Amara said. "But it's a scene right out of Leon's playbook. He is into bondage, likes being tied up and humiliated by a woman or women, enjoys being whipped and forced to do degrading things, some I won't mention. I've done some of these things with him (still do), and like playing the dominating mistress up to a point, but hate the whips and chains and pain he seems to like the most. Fortunately, he's found a number of women who are more than willing to assist him with his fetish. Many of his business trips include being with them."

"That sounds like an accommodating arrangement," he said.

"It's worked," she agreed. "We do have a good marriage, I think: we have similar life interests, share the same values, like being together, and are great in bed." She wondered if she was over-stating things, imploring his acceptance.

"But..." he prompted.

"But there is just that one glitch, his penchant for bondage. He craves it the most, I could take it or leave it, preferably the latter."

"So you see it as a hole in your marriage. Like an Agatha Christie collection of first editions, except one is missing, maybe not even the rarest, but that gaping hole on the shelf bugs you."

"Yeah, it's a great collection, but not perfect."

"Not too many things in this world are perfect, you know."

"Oh, I know that, believe me. And it's not going to sink us, either."

Hoping to continue the conversation along these lines, Gordon asked, "Would I be wrong in saying there is something you crave that he's not too crazy about?"

She was startled by the question. How in the world could she possibly answer it truthfully? She asked if he wanted another beer, more to divert their conversation, Gordon thought, than anything to do with thirst. He declined and waited. For the first time since he first introduced himself, he sensed she was uneasy.

"You can say, Amara, I won't judge you, I promise," he told her.

She remained silent as if weighing a decision. She was looking forward to making love with him, she mused to herself; would telling him nix that? Probably not, but then what? "It's just that I don't think even my closest friends know this, so it seems strange to be telling you," she finally said.

"I'm thinking of you as a friend already, hopefully even more," he said.

"Speaking of which," she blurted, removing her legs from his lap and sliding close next to him. She wanted to make love right then and forget what they were talking about. He put his arms around her, and she cuddled against his chest. Her hair smelled delicious, fresh and fruity. She was waiting for him to kiss her, which he was about to do any second. Then she looked at him, as if wondering why he hadn't made any move yet.

Hardly believing his own failure to act, Gordon suddenly smiled and asked her again to tell him what she craved. "Maybe I do, too?"

For a second, he cursed himself; he thought his insisting had perhaps gone too far, she was going to be angry with him. But then he could see her resistance give way. Okay, Gordon, she thought to herself, how worldly-wise are you, because he would have to be very much so to handle what she was about to reveal to him. Breathing hard, almost uncontrollably, she took his hand and placed it on her bottom, pressing it hard into her. She pushed his fingers along her ass crack, rubbing herself through her cutoffs there with them. She was thrilled and appalled and frightened by her own actions.

"You love anal sex," he said. "That's what you crave?"

She sighed, surrender and apprehension in her voice, "More than that. I love what's inside there."

It took only a second or two for her words to register. "Inside. Scat, you mean. You love...."

"Yes, Gordon. That's what I crave. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but, yes, I love that, how overpowering it is for me. Are you shocked, sickened..."

"Shush," he said. "Don't say those things. This is unbelievable, Amara, amazing." He finally kissed her, hard, pulling her onto his lap, and rubbed her ass even more, unable to penetrate or maneuver around her cutoffs. He thought for a moment about getting her to stand up and remove them, but then had another, filthier idea.

"I have a fantastic idea! Can you go right now? I mean, could you shit in your cutoffs right here?"

"What?" she murmured.

"Can you, Amara? Shit right in your cutoffs and panties, right here, right now. That would be amazingly filthy and sexy, wouldn't it? I would love that!"

"You would?" The world suddenly seemed to stand still.

"Fuck, yes, I would. More than anything. See? We do crave the same thing!"

"I don't believe it," she said, caressing his face, relieved. "What are the chances of this?"

"A million to one," he replied, his eagerness on full display, he was sure. "Once more, can you shit right now while sitting in my lap?"

"That's so dirty, so wild! I've never done anything like that!" she uttered in excitement.

"Really? Never?"

She gave a schoolgirl laugh and said, "Well, okay, maybe once, but it was a pure accident." And she tittered, "Sort of." She giggled some more hugged him around his head, adding almost under her breath, "Jesus, I don't believe what I'm telling you."

"Uh-huh. An accident. How about you have another accident right now on me?"

"There's that persistence again," she shouted, no more fear in her countenance or voice. "Okay. Why not?" She was ecstatic.

"Good," he said. "Just let it come out of you while I hold you like this in my lap, like it's nothing unusual, just something we always do. 'Miss Nonchalant taking a shit in her cutoffs on her boyfriend's lap while sitting around the pool.' Perfect for Page Six in The Post."

She beamed, hugging him. "Sounds wonderful! It might make a bit of a mess, however."

"The messier, the better. You might have to lend me a pair of Leon's shorts later, if you don't mind."

"Of course."

Then Gordon said, "I just thought of all those times I walked past here, that one time I saw you topless. Fuck, if only I knew about this!"

"If only," she smiled.

Suddenly he felt her body stiffen slightly, and then felt her pee spread across the inside of her cutoffs and then something heavier, and she muttered, "Oh, dear," and grinned. "Fuck, that feels good." The smell of her shit wafted up, but was not very strong, thanks to the open air. She raised herself slightly and with her cutoffs being so short, some of her poop began to leak out and onto him.