You're Still Young

Ron made Doug brush his teeth with toothpaste and Tabasco sauce. Nothing sexual between two guys was my thinking. I wasn't going to be using my toothbrush ever again.

Lana had Cathy spread chocolate syrup on her giant boobies and lick it off. Some dribbled down onto her belly and Ron made a big deal of licking that off. We were having fun with the game. Everyone was on edge, and that made it all the more exciting.

The rest of the game was uneventful. That was mostly because a spade drawer found themselves in an awkward position of hurting the feelings of the player who drew the club. Each person at our table had limits when it came to one or more friends. I felt better about things by the end of the night.

Midweek, I got off a little early. All the new staff had been trained, and the restaurant was pretty slow, so Lance told me to go enjoy the afternoon. I was excited pulling into our park because I knew Emma would be home any minute. We'd have some time together, and I'd thought about taking her out to dinner, and then having some real fun when we got home.

I looked down Brian's street and his car was in the driveway. That meant my wife was already home. I was so deep in that thought, that I almost missed them. Just a block ahead of me was Emma, walking towards home - and that sleaze ball - Troy.

"Hey sexy," I said in a nondescript manner and trying to keep my anger in check. "Want a ride?"

The look on Emma's face was... I couldn't say. She seemed aghast. It was not surprise, it was much more than that. She'd been caught doing... what? Walking? Troy gave a weak, sheepish wave, and looked everywhere but at me. Every nerve in my body tingled.

Emma recovered, but slightly. Then it got worse, as the two of them suddenly became confused about how to part ways. It only lasted a split-second, but there was a hesitation there, that Troy finally tried to mask.

He stepped back and turned towards home. "Bye, Emma," he said, but his face said more. My wife said "Bye," as she came around the passenger side of the car.

"What was all that?" I asked immediately.

"What? Nothing," was her clever response.

"Yeah," I spat. "What are you doing with that slime?"

"I'm not doing anything with him," she answered defensively. "We were just walking."

She was going to play that game. "Okay, Emma, why were you with him - walking?" I said taking a deep breath, preparing for an argument.

"He was just walking me home," she said. She was trying to remain calm and failing.

"Like high school?" I asked snidely. "Were you two holding hands before I drove up? And when you got 'home?'"

"No, and no!" she replied. "That's what I said - we weren't doing anything."

"Emma," I said, "I'm not stupid. Why were you both so nervous then? Now I asked you, why was he walking you HOME, to my house?"

"It's our house," she reminded me. "And he was going for a walk anyway. Brian and I pulled into his driveway, and Troy saw me. He asked if he could walk with me."

"Um, I see," I said. "Okay, Emma, listen to me. I don't want you around that fucker. He's bad news. Don't even think of inviting him into 'our' home when I'm not here. I don't like him, and I'm asking you to respect your husband's wishes and stay clear. Will you do that?"

"He's not a fucker, or any of those other things you called him." She was pleading her case. "You'd like him if you'd give it a chance."

"You didn't answer me," I responded, ignoring her defense of Troy.

"Yes," she said immediately. "Of course, but I think you're wrong. In fact, I know you are. Troy's not a bad guy. He's a little cocky, and maybe a bit overconfident - a bragger, too - maybe. And I would never have any guy in our house unless it was Doug when you're not there."

It was cold that night. I didn't feel like taking her out to dinner any longer, and as the thick air persisted, I also lost interest in having sex. I was moping, and she was trying to stay out of my way. We didn't bring up Troy the rest of the night, and I watched a ballgame, while Emma went to be early.

Things were less frosty in the morning, but we didn't have a chance to talk, as Emma had to be in to work by eight, and Brian had to be there at seven, so we both only had time to get ready. That night we did go out for pizza, and Emma was semi-apologetic. She still wasn't seeing what I was seeing, but she seemed genuine. We had sex that night and talked about the weekend. Emma had a friend from her location that was having a Super Bowl party, and we were invited. I expected Doug to come over and watch at our house, so I told her I'd need to check. Of course, she asked about our Saturday night get-together, which was now just a bunch of people drinking and doing stupid dares.

"Maybe we can skip it this week, babe," I said, more than asked. "There will be enough booze flowing on Sunday. Plus, if we end up at your co-worker's party, I don't want to be hung over."

"No," she said as if it was her final answer. "The twins and my cousin are already planning on it. Just drink less, Rob."

Saturday was busy. It had snowed overnight so was out clearing the drive and the street in front of the house, for our guests. At least the sun was out. Emma was making her seven-layer dip for the football party, when I came in, so I helped her. I'd made a big pot of Chowder on Friday night, so as it was now cooled I split it up into smaller containers. I took a shower around five and got dressed for the evening's festivities. Then I drove to the restaurant to get the tray of cold cuts - 1970s Michigan speak for Charcuterie - and stopped at the liquor store for some alcohol and snacks.

When I got back, I was immediately irritated. The twins were sitting on the couch, talking to - Troy! Emma saw the look on my face and motioned toward the door. She followed me out to get the rest of the items from my car.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" I could barely contain myself.

"Doug called after you left," she started. "He apologized and said he couldn't make it because he was helping his brother set up for his party tomorrow. He's also going there, and said he wasn't planning on being here."

"Again, Emma," I said with a deep sigh, "you're still stuck in being unable to answer a direct question. I never asked you about Doug."

"Okay," she squealed, "I invited him. Okay? He's not a bad guy, Rob. This is a good chance for you to get to know him. You'll see."

"Emma," I said. "Whether you or I think he's a nice guy or not, do you really think inviting him to... this, is a good idea? You know what we'll get up to. It's supposed to be private."

"I guess," she shrugged. "But he already knows about it. He's the one who taught me the... game."

That pause made me sick. She'd been spending more time with him than I knew about. Certainly, more than she'd shared. She'd also lied and told me it was some new person at her work that taught her the card game.

"Fuck, Emma," I screamed. "You tell me the truth right now! Do the two of you have something going on behind my back, cause I'm about to kill somebody!"

"No!" she screamed back. "NO! He's just a... friend." Another pause.

"You tell me everything right now," I demanded, "All the time you've spent any time with him. At his house, walking you 'home,' All of it - no lies either - or I'm going in the house and tossing his ass, right after I pummel his smug face."

Emma had that trapped look on her face. She was also stalling, clearly trying to figure out how much to say. I just stood there with the car door open, and my hands on my hips.

"Alright, settle down," she said, quieter. "I walked with him four or five times. He..." I cut her off.

"Emma, we're close to calling off tonight, and a major fight. Surely you can remember if it was four or five?"

"It was four," she replied confidently.

"Since when?" I asked her right back. "When did this little friendship start?"

"Since the beginning of the year," she told me, "or thereabout. I talked to him a few times in his yard, after getting out of Brian's car. The first time, Brian was there talking too. A few times, he did invite me in for hot chocolate, or whatever, but I always declined. Then he started saying he needed to take a walk and could he walk with me. I've never invited him into our house, nor has he ever asked."

"And about this stupid fucking game?" I asked hotly. Her face changed. She was getting frustrated with the inquisition.

"I don't know, exactly," she sniped. "It was just conversation, Rob. He asked something like what we all did when we got together. I told him, I guess I mentioned some dare games, or whatever, and he told me he knew one that was way more fun. So he told me."

The son-of-a-bitch was working on my wife. And she hadn't even picked up on it! Or, she was lying to me. Now instead of going ballistic and ending the night, I needed that fucker to stay, just so I could determine how bad things were.

"Look at me, Emma," I said more somberly. "Are you fucking? Have you had sex with him?"

"Just STOP!" she was as angry as I'd ever seen her. "You need to check yourself right here, right now. I haven't 'fucked' him - or anyone else - since before we first met. I love you, but you need to knock it off. We haven't done anything except talk, and walk and talk. You're accusing your own wife of things that are going to cause us big trouble. I'm going to take the high ground and walk away. You stay out here and think about things for a minute and then calm down. When you come back in, your attitude had better be different. He's staying for the party, and you need to treat him like a guest. We'll talk about this tomorrow, or after everyone leaves."

"Okay, Emma," I told her, still fuming. "We'll do it your way for now. And you can bet your ass we'll be talking about all of this after the party breaks up. Any bullshit or smart-assed remarks from him, and I'll end the party in a New York minute. I need a sec to get myself under control. You can take that time to tell 'your friend' to behave if you like. Hell, you can even tell him what I said."

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. Besides pissing me off, I was starting to get a really bad feeling. I was anxious about the night, and I was worried about our marriage. I decided to pay close attention to the interaction between them, and everything he said. I wasn't going to be drinking.

Ron and Cathy had parked across the street and slinked into the house while Emma and I had been arguing. When I went inside with the rest of the beer and booze, everyone was sitting quietly around the kitchen table. No sooner had I put the stuff on the counter, than Troy was right there behind me with his hand extended.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight, Rob," he said sincerely, making eye contact, yet knowing had nothing to do with his presence. I shook his hand. "I don't know you very well, so I'm grateful for the opportunity." I could only nod.

When he released my hand, he left it held out there, waiting for me to give him a beer. After I put one in his hand, he turned and retook his seat. That left one place for me, and it was directly opposite my wife. I took note of that.

Our single wide had a front den, facing the street. The kitchen was beyond that, then the living room and the hallway heading towards the back. The guest room was closest, then the bathroom, and finally the master bedroom. The kitchen was raised just one step higher than the den and the living room, with a little railing covering about half the width of the dining area. That's where Emma was sitting, with me across from her. I had Debbie on my right, with Troy on her other side. To my left was Cathy, then Ron.

I hadn't even said hello to any of them. Ron was looking, but trying not to appear he was. I cracked the beer, took a deep breath, and said, "So, what'd I miss?"

It was eerily quiet among our friends I noticed. Troy spoke up.

"We were discussing the penalty for tonight's game, while you were bringing in the goodies," he stated. He then looked around the table, "Does anybody want to tell Rob what we came up with?"

Troy was trying to be on his best behavior. Anyone could see that. More likely, he was trying to behave to a point where I'd look stupid if I impugned or challenged anything he said.

Ron decided to break the ice. The fact it was him wasn't lost on me either.

"Royal flush swirlie." He stated matter-of-factly.

"What?" I asked, not entirely sure I heard him right.

"You know," he continued, "a swirlie. A dirty one."

I just stared at him.

Troy took the opportunity again. "Yeah, it's a good penalty, because nobody wants to be dragged by the other players into a dirty commode, head first."

"Yeah," I sighed, "especially not by one's friends. Not the kind of things 'friends' would do."

"They shouldn't," he answered immediately, "unless they're all playing suicide together. From what I've heard, you guys aren't playing it as intended. It's called suicide for a reason. We'll up the ante tonight.

"There's a few more rules, too," Troy said in an overbearing tone, he tried hard to hide. He then open-hand waved toward Emma, as if giving her the floor. I was getting more uncomfortable with this situation by the minute.

Emma introduced the rule that if the same player got both aces, they get to make up a dare for the group, or any combination of members of the group, excluding themselves. She also told us that whatever penalty we agreed to, others at the table could be used to enforce the penalty on the non-conforming player, as had been alluded to with the swirlie. Lana, Ron, and I seemed ready to object, but I was the only one to say something.

"We could always just drink, smoke a little and enjoy each other's company?" I suggested, looking directly at my wife. She half-smiled, and by that I mean half cocky, and half unsure of herself, just as if she had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.

Lana was on Troy's left, next to Emma. The entire time, Troy had been casually shuffling the cards.

"Would you like to deal first, Emma?" he asked sliding the deck across the table to her. She blushed.

The first round was pretty mild. Emma dealt herself the ace of spades, and Cathy the other ace. She had to repeat the deep-throating, but with a hot dog.

Since Troy was the new kid on the block, he got some attention. Lana also dealt herself the spade, and her sister got the other. She had Debbie kiss Troy for one minute. I noticed that was new too. She'd left herself out and imposed another player.

Troy didn't waste any time when he dealt himself both aces. "Hmm," he said, pretending to have to think something through.

"Rob, have you ever had twins before?" he asked with a sly grin.

"Well, no," I said sheepishly. "I can't get pregnant, so..." My joke fell flatly on the group as the implications swirled in their minds. Troy saw it too.

"Lana - Debbie," he stated proudly, "Give Rob a hand job until he cums."

I was stunned. I looked directly at my wife, and she wore the same expression.

"Oh, I don't..." I stammered. "Let's not. Umm, pick another dare." I knew I sounded ridiculous.

"No," Troy said with finality. "It's how the game works. Plus, that's about the mildest one on my mind."

I looked at Ron, and he didn't make eye contact. He'd be of no help, I realized, if I needed it. Emma broke the mumbling between the twins.

"Chop, chop, ladies," my wife said, suddenly smiling. "Unless you want your pretty hair to smell like pee for a week."

The girls were asking some questions, and I was lost in thought.

Finally, the twins led me over near the refrigerator, so everyone had a good view. They dropped to their knees on either side of me and undid my snap. Two warm hands snaked into my pants, one gripping my hardening shaft, and the other fondling my balls.

The look I caught on Emma's face, wasn't at all what I expected. She wore a smile - a semi-evil smile. She should've been pissed, or floored. The others were eager to watch things play out. My mind was so conflicted by how we'd all gotten here - how I'd allowed myself to get here, that it took a minute to get fully hard, let alone excited. The twins kept looking at each other, and then, up at me, questioningly.

"Are we doing it r..." Lana started, before I quickly interrupted.

"YeS!" My voice squeaked. Lana found the spot, and my nerve endings overcame my embarrassment.

Debbie felt it too, and while her sister was doing her thing, Debbie unceremoniously pulled my pants and briefs down. Now I stood there with a boner and an audience. Troy looked rather pleased with himself. Debbie wanted a turn and told her sister to stop hogging. Lana made a big deal, with a sigh, that said, 'go for it, slut.'

Emma watched in amazement - again - the wrong emotion as far as I was concerned. Cathy had a look of admiration, and Ron was trying not to pay any attention.

In three minutes, or thereabout, I couldn't hold out any longer. None of us had thought to get a towel or napkin, so I just shot all over our floor, with Lana jerking for all she was worth, and her sister, actually trying to catch some on her palm.

I immediately pulled my pants back up, while Emma told the twins to clean up their mess. I grabbed a beer, breaking a promise to myself, and sat down.

"See, isn't it a lot more fun when we play it right?" Troy said to me, looking like the Cheshire Cat. I only shrugged.

It was my turn to deal, and my brain was so twisted up, I didn't have a dare ready. This would be the fourth time in five rounds that the dealer also got the tell card. The odds of that happening were remarkably low. Finally, with nothing in mind, I made Cathy rinse her mouth out with white vinegar. I wasn't about to piss Ron off. He seemed worthless to me, should something bad happen, but pissing him off was something I couldn't afford to do.

My thoughts were still swimming uphill, and I couldn't honestly tell you what happened on Cathy or Ron's deal. We were back to Emma and decided to take a break. I went out with Cathy and Debbie to smoke, and almost everyone used the head.

I never heard it flush even once.

Emma joined us, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind. "Wasn't that fun, baby?" she asked in a sultry voice.

I shrugged without answering. "Yeah, right!" she said, lightly punching my arm. "That was hot! I almost started touching my kitty."

The entire thing was so out of character for Emma. My anger was returning, even as I tried to force it back down. The anger manifested in a fear that this was a side of Emma I'd never seen.

"Have you been discussing tonight with Troy?" I asked out of nowhere. "The dares, I mean?" The smile left my wife's face, and the accusation, made the other two seem to shrink inward a bit.

Emma wanted to lash out. I'd seen that temper many times. But now, she was in front of her cousin and her friend, so she mulled over an appropriate answer.

"Are we gonna do this again, right now?" she asked annoyed.

"When were you with him?" I asked another, ignoring hers. "Discussing this?"

"Fuck," she couldn't hold back now. "Yes, we talked about it. There, are you happy? Quit being such a damned baby." She immediately turned and walked back inside.

Cathy quickly flicked her cigarette and left Debbie and me alone on the porch.

"You have anything you'd like to share, friend?" I asked her sarcastically. "Anything at all that might explain how much trouble we're in?" I motioned inside towards where my wife had just gone.

"No." was all she said, bowing her head. Emma and I were going to have it out, the minute this shit show was over. We wouldn't be sleeping together, and tomorrow, I'd probably go to Doug's brother's house for the football game. If she wanted to continue with the attitude, then I'd probably stay gone for a day or two, until she came to her senses. If she wouldn't stop the friendship, it would be far worse.