The Party Favor
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue
She nuzzled his shoulder, just outside his armpit.
"Again!" she demanded.
"I'm a dancer, woman, not a satyr!" he groaned.
"Again!" She repeated her demand as if he hadn't spoken.
"Third time is not a charm when it comes to making love," he
said. "I haven't done this in a long time. I'm out of
practice ... rusty."
"You're not rusty. You drove me almost crazy," she said, licking
"You're easy to drive almost crazy," he said. "You've been
neglected for a long time. But like a man dying of thirst can
kill himself when he finds water, you need to pace yourself."
"I am such a slut," she moaned.
"You're anything but a slut,"
he said, squeezing her.
"I'm a slut for you," she
"That's just extremely good taste. That's all that is," he said.
The last time she'd started that up, after their first frantic
coupling, he'd ordered her to suck him, thinking she'd object to her
own fluids on him, and decide it was time for that shower. She
hadn't. She'd eagerly sucked him hard and then flopped, eager to
have him impale her again. Her mantra of "Hurry ... hurry ...
hurry" had made him too excited, and he'd only lasted half an hour
before he groaned and flushed her full again. The second time,
she'd put her lips next to his ear and hissed "Yesssssss," as he
ejaculated. It had almost driven him mad.
In those seconds, he knew he had to have this woman forever. He
was ready to quit dancing, if that's what she wanted. Anything
short of murder or some equally egregious felonious behavior, he would
do gladly, if she would only choose him over all other men.
Now he was rethinking that. She might actually kill him with her
"Make you a deal," he said.
"The only kind of deal I want is you in me," she pouted.
"Let's take a shower ... get something to eat ... rest just a little
while ... and I promise I can go for an hour after that."
"In whose dream?" she scoffed. "Men don't go for an hour."
"I can." He waited, and then thought to add something to
that. "If I'm given time to prepare first."
"You're going to put on a condom," she said.
"Never in a million years would I put something between you and me," he
said. "Unless you demand it be done some other way, I'll always
love you bareback, and I'll always cum inside you."
"What about after I have your sixth ... or seventh ... or
eighth child?" she asked gleefully.
"Then I'll get a second job," he said.
The shower didn't help. It only inflamed her more, because they
took it together. His hands sliding over her body made her
writhe, and his muscles under her soapy hands made her sob with need.
He took pity on her by carrying her back to the bedroom still soaking
wet, and sucking her clit through four orgasms in a row. Then he
alternated kissing her lips, and sucking her nipples while he searched
for her G-spot with his hooked finger, while she shuddered through three more. Finally
she was too weak to actively seek more, and he left her to rest while
he prepared something for them to eat.
She stayed all night and, since he didn't have to go to work until
seven the next evening, she stayed all day the next day too. She
stayed naked and teased him so much that he finally began to ignore
her. She pouted, but it didn't do any good. When he was
capable of making love to her, he did. At other times he read a
book, or played a computer game. Once, he spanked her, but found
out to both his and her surprise, that she actually liked that.
All day long she simply watched him, drinking him in, breathing deeply
and imaging his essence flooding her lungs. She knew she was
hopelessly in love with him, and that it could be a terrible mistake if
he wasn't as sincere about his affections as he said he was. But
she needed this almost more than life itself, and so she wallowed in it.
As she watched him get dressed to go to work, she finally asked the
question she had been dreading all day.
"When will I see you again?"
"Well, I have to go to work. And then tomorrow I have an
appointment with my doctor, for him to evaluate whether I'm healthy
enough to have this relationship with you, and then ..." He
stopped, as if he was trying to remember, but she knew he was waiting
for her to react to the joke.
"I love you," she whispered, scared out of her mind that he'd reject
"That's good," he said. "It would be exceedingly awkward if I
kept chasing you around town and you didn't."
"So you're going to keep chasing me?"
"Only until you catch me," he said.
"People will think I'm a cougar," she sighed.
"I'm thirty-one, Jen," he said. "We Orientals age well."
"You are not!" she said, heat in her voice.
He picked up his wallet from the dresser and tossed it to her. "I
carded you. It's only fair that you card me too."
She did dig through his wallet, looking for his driver's license, but
only because her hands were shaking so hard she had to do something
with them. He was only three years younger? Could it
possibly be? She felt something leap in her chest as she saw the
plastic card, with his image on it. He was telling the truth!
"If anything, people will think I'm a gold digger," he said, buttoning
"That's ridiculous," she said. "I don't have any money."
"You will if you want to," he said. "We have this high powered
lawyer who is representing the club and all us guys against the suits.
He has friends who are representing some of the women. The reason
Brandi started having parties, and the reason most of those women
started going in the first place, was because they found out about
their husbands' affairs. Some of those women have been collecting
data on their cheating spouses for years, and when those guys get into
court, they're in for a very rude awakening."
Jennifer nodded, her eyebrows rising. "I found out Roger had a
whole other family on the side. He married this woman ... or at
least he pretended to get married. He even got her pregnant
twice! At least that's what she claims. He told her I was
fighting the divorce, and she actually asked me to move on with my life
so she can be with him!"
"Paternity test and wham! Half of everything he has is yours."
"I don't know if I want to go through that," she said. "I'd
almost rather be poor."
"That's fine with me," he said. "I'm not after you for your
"Oh? And how do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Because if you can't tell by now, that means I have to go
two hours, and no woman has been
able to stand it for two hours. You'd go stark raving mad, and
have an unending, permanent orgasm."
She remembered feeling like she wanted what was happening to her to
last for days, and smiled.
"So where do we go from here?" she asked.
"I want to spend as much time with you as you'll let me spend with
you," he said.
"Are you asking me to live with you?"
"If you want that, I'd be delighted," he said. "I still want to
volunteer at the center. That was fun, and it made me feel better
"Why did you feel bad about yourself?" she asked.
"Because I went there to seduce you ... for selfish purposes."
She went to him and brushed her lips across his, very briefly.
"Again!" she whispered. She backed up. "Now do you feel
He grinned. "I do not," he said. "I feel lucky."
When Jennifer used her key to enter the employee entrance, one of the
sometimes night volunteers, a college student named Roy, was washing
pots and pans.
"There's a girl who came here hours ago asking for you," he said.
"She's been crying and screaming ever since. Nobody can console
her. She keeps asking for you."
"Who is she?" asked Jennifer.
"She says she's your daughter."
Tiffany was sitting in a corner, huddled and sniffling. Two
homeless people were trying to talk to her, but she wouldn't answer
them. When she saw Jennifer she burst into tears and crawled
toward her mother.
It took five minutes, but finally she calmed down enough to tell her
mother she was pregnant.
Another half an hour established that Tiffany was two months pregnant,
and that the only boy she'd had sex with, to her knowledge, was Todd,
the college student her mother had refused to let take her to the mall
that night. By circumventing her mother, she had put herself in a
position where Todd got her drunk and fucked her. Not that she
was a virgin at the time. She'd been having sex since she was
thirteen. It had been her sexual adventures, in fact that started
her fights with her mother. Once she was an "experienced woman"
in her own mind, she felt like her mother treated her like a baby, and
But she had always made the boys use a condom. Todd, once he'd
had her, took her whenever he wanted, calling her his girlfriend,
knowing that the impressionable fifteen-year-old would be too excited
to think about anything. And Todd never used a condom.
Condoms were for babies, he said.
Of course, when she told him she was pregnant, he called her a slut and
told her never to talk to him again, and that if she claimed it was
his, he'd sue her.
Had she talked to her father, things might have worked out
differently. As a lawyer, he would have been able to inform her
that she had all the aces in this game. But she knew he'd be
furious with her. He'd been calling her "My pure, sweet baby girl" and
"My sweet, innocent virgin" for two years. She didn't think that
was odd. Had she talked to her mother, things might have worked
out differently. As an adult woman, her mother would have been
alert to the fact that Daddy was much too interested - in inappropriate
ways - in the sexual status of his nubile daughter.
But she only talked to her mother when it was absolutely required.
So she had done what thousands of teenagers do. She waited,
hoping that it would just all go away. But now, her body was
changing in ways that made it clear there was a little human growing
inside her, and it terrified her.
So she had sought out her mother to get money for an abortion.
It was at this point, the point where the word "abortion" came from her
daughter's lips, that Jennifer sobered up.
"I don't have any money," she said. "Your father has all the
money. You're going to have to talk to him about that."
"I can't!" wailed
Tiffany. "He'll kill
me! He keeps talking about how someday he's going to walk his
virgin daughter down the aisle!"
"Non the less, he's the one who gave you permission to let that boy
take you places. He's the one with the money. There's
nothing I can do for you."
Tiffany's face turned ugly. "You
won't help me!" she screamed. "All
you can think about is that I went around you to Daddy when I wanted
something. You never
gave me anything! You always
treated me like a baby! I hate
Jennifer stood up. "Then I guess we're finished here." She felt
empty. It was clear that Tiffany was still consumed with her own
wants and desires. In that moment Jennifer wished she did have
the money for an abortion, because no child should be exposed to having
a mother like Tiffany. And, as the girl stormed out of the
shelter, still screaming and cursing, Jennifer knew she had one more
unsavory thing to do. She'd have to call Roger and tell him about
the baby. She was quite sure Tiffany wouldn't tell him until she
couldn't keep it a secret any longer, and that might be for another two
months. She knew Roger would never go for an abortion. And
that meant that baby needed prenatal care, because it was going to be
carried to term.
It went much worse than she imagined. First, Roger said he didn't
believe her, and that she was trying to drive a wedge between him and
his daughter. His
daughter ... not their daughter. Then he asked her details of
exactly when and where she talked to Tiffany, even asking if there were
any witnesses. It was his use of the word "witness" that made her
realize he intended to claim she had violated the no contact order,
even though Tiffany had sought her out. Finally she said "Find
someone to adopt the child, Roger, because I will have nothing to do
with either you or her from this day forward." Then she hung up.
Her refuge was Josh. There was a mixture of sadness and joy when
she announced she was moving out of the shelter. She had
overstayed her welcome, at least officially. Nobody was supposed
to stay in the shelter for more than a week at a time. True,
there were those who were in such dire straits that they stayed a week,
spent one night on the street and then came back for another
week. A blind eye was turned to that kind of thing, but only when
it was clear that the need was both real and urgent.
So now she worked half a day as a CPA, and then spent some hours
working at the shelter, and then went home to wait for Josh, who was
always worked up when he came home. They would make love, sleep
late, make love again, and then start the pattern all over again.
Both of them were content.
Sometimes she went to the club to watch him dance and wait for
him. She met Baldwin Guthrie, of Barnesworth, Guthrie and
Middleton, the law firm that was handing the lion's share of the
divorces for the women associated with the Silver Lake Scandal.
When he found out the particulars of her situation, he begged her to
let him represent her. She said she hadn't planned on contesting
"You don't have to ask for money," he said. "But certain things
need to be established by the court for your protection in the
future. Take, for example, the fact that you did violate the no
contact order. We can argue that it wasn't your fault, and that
you sent the girl away as soon as you could. But unless we get
that on the record, he can claim ten years from now that she needs
therapy because of your blatant disregard for the law, and attach your
house, your savings, or your income. You need to settle things
now. Let me do that for you."
"I can't pay you," she argued.
"Your husband will pay me," he said with a smile. "That will be part of the suit. You may not be interested in asking for money," he said, "but I don't mind doing that one bit. I know of your husband. I
know his reputation. I've never gone up against him, but I know
people who have. And knowing now what he's been doing on the
side? Trust me. You need to get that on the record too, and make
him pay. Otherwise he'll keep trying to make
you pay as long as he lives."
So she signed some documents, and gave him the leash to go where he
They say that when one wants to break a habit successfully, it calls
for a change in lifestyle. Most people think "change in
lifestyle" means small change. An example is a smoker, who loves
to smoke after a meal, but wants to stop smoking. The lifestyle
change most people would think of there is to do something else after
the meal, like go for a walk, or bounce a basketball for five minutes
... anything that will "alter the lifestyle of the smoker."
But as any smoker who has actually
kicked the habit will tell you, it calls for a heck of a lot more than
changing ten minutes of your day. You have to think about
literally everything in a new way, a way that reminds you over and over
again that you are no longer a smoker, until you just don't think about
smoking any more. Habits remind you they need to be engaged
in. And the only way to leave one behind, is to be able to no
longer think about it unless you try to. It's very stressful,
because everything has to
change until there is no hint of smoking (the habit) left in your
life. It's one reason why people who have successfully conquered
the smoking habit are the most rabid anti-second-hand-smoke people in
the world. They want nothing
to do with smoke again. Nothing.
In many ways, relationships are like habits. You expect to see
and interact with the same people on a more or less routine
basis. You expect to have to do certain things that the
relationship calls for. Your day is structured around the needs
and requirements of the other people in the relationship.
Employment is an example. Your job structures most of five days a
week for the average person. Marriage is another example.
And breaking the marriage habit is just as stressful as stopping
smoking. The comfortable, familiar routine of day by day
interaction with a chosen mate is no longer there. You have to
find other things to do, and other people to interact with. In
essence, you have to create an entirely new life that doesn't have the
old components of marriage in it.
For Jennifer, breaking the marriage habit also involved breaking the
parent habit, because it was clear that Tiffany was not in a place
where she was willing to accept Jennifer as her mother. She might
get there some day, but for the present, in losing her husband,
Jennifer was also losing her daughter.
Such a thing is often devastating, a thing that crushes the soul and
renders one impotent in terms of merely going on with a life that has
any meaning in it.
Except that there was Josh.
In her marriage, she felt ignored and neglected by her husband.
Josh didn't ignore or neglect her. In her marriage she
languished, without the physical comfort and stimulation a husband can
give his wife. Josh literally couldn't keep his hands off her,
making it virtually impossible for her to feel unattractive, or
unappreciated. In her marriage, she was expected to perform
certain tasks. Josh asked her to do things. In marriage,
Roger had introduced her as "my wife." When she met Josh's
friends, he characterized her as "the woman who makes my life worth
And in her marriage, there had been an atmosphere in which creating new
life was not anticipated, planned for, or welcome.
When she and Josh made love, it was always done in the same natural way
that millions of men and women had made love before birth control was
even a concept. It wasn't that they were intentionally trying to
get her pregnant. But the thought didn't bother, or worry either
of them. In many ways, they didn't even think about
pregnancy. All they thought about was watching for another orgasm
in the other partner ... and exulting in knowing they had created that
To be sure, in many ways, her relationship with Josh was stressful
too. There was no contract for either longevity or fidelity in
the relationship. She still felt like she was a decade older than
him, even though she knew otherwise. When she looked at him she
saw youthful, smooth skin, an athletic body, and the carefree, hopeful
demeanor of the young. When she looked in a mirror she saw a
wrinkle here and there, tired eyes, and a woman with a slightly
desperate look about her, who had failed at keeping a man's love.
Only in terms of the sex did she feel fully capable. She knew she
could wear him out, and still be ready for more.
But slowly, his actions spoke volumes to her. Over the next few
months, she learned that what Roger had offered her had never really
amounted to love at all, but she had been too young to realize
it. What Josh bathed her in daily was the knowledge that she
mattered to him, that he
needed her, to be happy and
satisfied. He knew her loss was great, and he let her
grieve. He gave her time to be alone, to think, but was always
ready to sweep in and occupy her thoughts with other things. He
still danced, but somehow she knew with rock solid certainty that the
flirting he did with the patrons at the club was just an act, a
performance intended to generate tips, and that what he was really thinking about up there on
that stage was getting home to her
And then there was the sex.
The barren desert that had been her sex life vanished like smoke in a
hurricane. It wasn't that the only thing they did was have
sex. But if they went on a bike ride, she wasn't surprised if the
route he chose included a private, remote little spot where a blanket
could be spread, and where the two of them could lie, naked, watching
the clouds drifting in the sky, until he drove her crazy with his
hands, lips, and finally his stiff prick.
He knew places where a couple could use the same sauna. Sometimes
there were other couples there, also naked. She learned that
nudity didn't always mean sex, though those situations always inflamed
him, and made his efforts in bed, later, even more urgent than usual.
They went lots of places to see things. Museums, scenery,
musicals, whatever seemed interesting, and he always had a hand on her,
not possessively, but stroking her, touching her, letting her know that
he couldn't wait to touch her in other ways. Many was the time he
stood behind her and cupped her breasts, not doing anything more, just
holding her intimately until she turned to kiss him and rub her loins
More than once he came home from the club and, without saying a word,
kissed her, unbuttoned a button, kissed her again, unzipped something,
and continued to kiss and slowly remove her clothing, never in a hurry,
and yet communicating that he just couldn't wait to see her ready for
And she always was. There was nothing she loved more than his
arms around her, his naked body pressed to hers, as he probed, lunged
and rubbed until she sobbed with relief.
And then flooded her with his love.
Three months of that led her slowly to a place where stress was only a
temporary bump in an otherwise smooth road, a road that looked like it
might lead to a beautiful place that, once she got there, she'd never
want to leave. He taught her what love felt like in his arms, and
looked like in his eyes.
And he taught her that she had never really
been loved before Brandi Templeton got him for her as a party favor.
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