Business Trip Chapter 9

Business Trip Chapter 9

Copyright © 2024 by W. Richard St. James

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental

AFTER ALL THAT, it was barely nine. Too early to go to sleep.

“What now?” Ann asked.

“I have no idea. Maybe I’ll play the piano for a while. What about you?”

“Might as well come down and listen.”

“Give me fifteen minutes or so.” Partly because he needed to clear his bowels out. At least it felt like that, but maybe they were just sore from being fucked. God, he had done it all with guys now. The other reason was to try his wife again.

“Hi. How are you?”

“Okay. I’m not sure the kids are asleep yet.”

“That’s why I left the message the way I did. Not sure who was going to hear it.”

“So you did a movie before dinner?”

“Yep. Lots of special effects.”

“Call me back in a couple. I’m in the kitchen now.”

“Okay.”

He waited three minutes or so and rang again.

“Okay, I’ve got the bedroom phone in the bathroom now. What happened?”

“Well, they hired two young guys to do it with Ann. But they were more interested in doing it with each other.”

“So you were watching them?”

“What did you think?”

“The thing came.”

“That was fast.”

“It came with a whip.”

“Really.”

“Well, it was free shipping over twenty five dollars. So it was cheaper to get something extra. Either handcuffs or the whip.”

“Really.”

“Sound interesting? I’m going to lay you on your back at the edge of the bed and fuck your ass and whip your balls.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I’m going to take the whip with us on Saturday, too.”

“Saturday?”

“Yeah we’re going over to Mary’s for dinner and whatever. I’ve already got the babysitter lined up.”

“Whatever?”

“Whatever. Mary and her boyfriend and whoever else shows up.”

“Oh.”

“You owe me that.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“If it is. If it isn’t we’ll go back home. We’ll take our whip and go home.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh my God, one of the kids is up. Yes honey, I’m in the bathroom. I’m talking to daddy. Love ya. Got to go.”

“Love you.”

“A whip?” That from Ann, who had come into the room. “Sorry, I was coming over to see if you were ready, and then I realized you were on the phone.”

“It came with the strap-on she ordered.”

“Really. Katie seemed to know a lot about whips.”

“What about you?”

“Nope. Evan is very, very gentle. Too gentle.”

“None of your girlfriends?”

“There was this one who was really into it. She had, like, stuff. I walked into her place and saw all this stuff, it looked like the Spanish Inquisition.”

“And?”

“I walked back out. Ever been tied up?”

“Not before tonight. Seen it in flicks though.”

“Turn you on?”

“Maybe.”

“Which way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like when I told you to pretend you were the girl having her ass fucked. Which way do you want to be that turns you on? The dom or the sub?”

“The who?”

“The dominant or the submissive.”

“Jane said she was going to whip my balls while she fucked me with the strap-on. That was a turn-on.”

“Really. Brad the guy who’s always in charge.”

“It just happens. Lately. Not that way at all when I was a kid.”

“You seem very comfy with it though. Who’s in charge at home?”

“Oh Jane. Absolutely. Well, she stays out of the way of my various obsessions, the running, the piano playing. But otherwise I go where I’m pointed.”

“Including this swinger party?”

“I don’t know. I’m envisioning a room full of fat middle aged people in their underwear. The last time we ran into that, we got out of there as fast as we could.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Well it was pretty soon after we got married. I had a studio apartment in a brownstone in the west nineties, and she moved in when we got married. They call that area the Upper West Side now, but in those days it was Spanish Harlem. The red light district. Ours was the middle of three brownstones and all three of them had hookers in the garden apartments. But the rest of the building was filled with twenty somethings. There were two ballerinas living in the other apartment on our floor.”

“Really Ever get friendly with them?”

“Real friendly but not that way. One of them became a really good friend. We used to go for walks all the time. She was very pretty and I really liked her. But nothing ever clicked sexually.”

“Strange.”

“Yeah. Well anyway, a few months after we got married the ballerinas moved out and another young couple moved in. We would say hello if we met in the hall. Then one night they invited us over for coffee.”

“And?”

“Well their apartment had almost no furniture in it. No chairs. No bed, just a mattress on the floor. And the two of them were sitting on the mattress in their underwear. Barely in their underwear. Sort of scrunched up so you could see part of his balls and part of her pussy. He had no shirt on. She was wearing a tee shirt with obviously no bra.”

“You seem to have paid a lot of attention to all that. How long ago was this?”

“Almost twenty years. Not the sort of thing you forget. So they’re inviting us to join them on the mattress.”

“And you walked back out?”

“No, we sat down and talked for a while. Then we had a good laugh when we got back to our own place.”

“Just a laugh?”

“This was not exactly a turn on. The guy was not in all that great a shape, and very hairy. Black body hair. And the girl … well she was fuckable I guess. It gets worse though. Jane was having her mother come for dinner. And this was a really big event. Her mother is a wonderful cook, and Jane was pulling out all the stops in our tiny little kitchen to show what a big girl she was now. Well the building had like a central air shaft, so you could hear everything. And the swinger couple chose that night to get into fight. The girl was screaming at the guy something about how he could fuck anybody he wanted to but when she did it was a problem, and what the fuck was that.”

“Oh no.”

“Yep. Jane was mortified. But her mother never let on that it was happening. Anyway, that was the last of having anything to do with swingers.”

“Until now.”

“I guess I’ve been away from home too much. She said she was going through midlife too.”

“Oh. Worried?”

“Yep. Okay, where’d I put the music?” Brad was searching through the various drawers. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

They went down to the lobby. “Hey Brad, you two up in the penthouse tonight?” That from the bartender standing with nothing to do.

“Yep. Living the high life.”

“How did he know that?” Ann hissed.

“The ribs, I guess.” Which provoked a poke into his. “Okay, just for that I’m going to play something different.”

“I like the nocturne.”

“Maybe later. You know, I started writing all this music all of a sudden and I was thinking maybe I should have paid more attention to doing music as a career.