Cuckold Summer Page 12

  Late Saturday morning, after our coffee and our runs, while we were undressing for showers, I finally asked about our plans with Celeste.

  “She wouldn’t tell me,” said Anne, kicking off her running shoes and pulling off her sports bra. “She just said that it was the next step.”

  She wriggled out of her running shorts. She looked adorable, suddenly naked, with her running ponytail still in her hair.

  “It kind of bugged me that she wouldn’t say more,” she said. “She just said we should meet her downtown, on the rooftop terrace of the Zelos, at 2 o’clock.”

  “Hm,” I said. “Mysterious.”

  “I know,” she said, making a pouting face. “I like it when me and Celeste keep secrets from you, but I don’t like it when she keeps things from me.”

  She turned on the water and waited until it was hot. I felt aroused watching her, and my penis strained against the cage as she started to soap herself.

  “Do you have any guesses?” I asked, stepping beside her under the hot water and taking her soapy body into my arms.

  “God knows,” she said, and kissed me. “But to be on the safe side, why don’t you give me a little trim?”

  Obedient and full of lust, I knelt at her feet, and very carefully shaved her until she was smooth.

  When I was done, and had rinsed her very well, under the pretense of inspecting my handiwork, I tried to kiss her, as I had done before when I shaved her, but after a few kisses, she pulled me to my feet and gave me a kiss on the mouth and thanked me, and said she had to do her makeup.

  We didn’t talk any more about what was to come.

  She put on a simple beige skirt and a simple white cotton blouse, asked me how she looked, and suggested an outfit for me — black jeans and loose white dress shirt.

  We stood briefly to look at ourselves in the wardrobe mirror.

  She smiled at my reflection. “I think we look nice.”

  The maître d’ at the rooftop bar seemed to be expecting us.

  He was slight, well-groomed and well-dressed, with an expensive haircut and a fussy, businesslike way about him.

  When I asked for a table reserved for Celeste, he looked up from his little podium and gave one of those smiles that was too short, given how bright it was.

  “You would be Simon and Anne?” he asked.

  “We would,” I said.

  “Follow me, please,” he said.

  He gave another micro smile and led us through the bar to the terrace, where the warm afternoon sun shone down on a fashionable crowd of late lunchers, extended brunchers and early afternoon boozers.

  It was an attractive group, everyone in a good mood, talking and laughing in the sun, enjoying the view of the city, drinking mojitos and sparkling wine, resting their elbows on the white tablecloths and talking about, likely, real estate.

  The maître d’ led us around the corner to the terrace on the side, to a little table at the very end. There were three chairs around it, three champagne flutes, three water glasses, a bottle of perspiring Perrier, a little dish of limes, and, next to the table, an ice bucket containing a bottle of French champagne, its neck swaddled in white linen.

  “I hope everything is to your liking,” he said, and scanned the table, seeming to inventory everything against a mental checklist.

  “It’s very nice,” I said. We sat down — Anne with her back to the balcony railing and me facing her — and the maître d’ scurried off.

  “Celeste must have arranged all this,” I said.

  “Or not,” said Anne, checking her phone. “She just texted me. Hm. Odd.”

  “What is it?”

  “She isn’t coming,” said Anne. “I guess that’s the surprise. Colonel James will be joining us in her place. And Mariko.”

  I opened the bottle of Perrier and poured us both a glass.

  “Colonel James,” I said. “He’s the head of the club, isn’t he?”

  Anne looked down at her phone and nodded.

  “Yes,” she said. “He’s been away.”

  “I take it he’s back,” I said, squeezing lime into our glasses.

  “It would seem so,” she said.

  “And Mariko …” I said.

  “Is a member of the club,” said Anne. “I think you remember Celeste talking about her.”

  “Yes,” I said. “She’s married to … is it Toshiro? Celeste said I reminded her of him in certain ways.”

  “That’s right,” said Anne. “Celeste says that nobody is admitted to the club without meeting Colonel James.”

  “So this is likely sort of an interview,” I said.

  She nodded at me.

  “Celeste is full of surprises,” she said. “Hm.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, waiting, both of us alone with our thoughts. I felt nervous and Anne looked nervous, taking little sips of her water, checking her phone and looking toward the entrance to the patio, over my shoulder.

  I could tell by her face when Colonel James and Mariko arrived, and turned to watch them approach.

  Mariko was in front, slim and chic in a short black skirt, fishnets, Doc Martens and a black leather biker jacket. She had a vivacious quality — something in the way she bopped along — with a smile that lit up when she saw us. She was also spectacularly cute, in a kind of punk way, with a nose ring and pink streak in her shiny shoulder-length hair. I liked her immediately, and was immediately attracted to her curvy little body and pink rosebud mouth.

  James was behind her, tall and rangy and somehow rough-looking, with craggy features, close-cropped sandy hair and bristly whiskers. He had some kind of old scar above his left eye, like a knife wound. He was dressed elegantly, though, in a tailored black suit, with a creamy open-collared white shirt.

  “Hi you guys!” said Mariko, stepping forward to hug us, first Anne then me. “It’s great to finally meet you. Celeste has told me a lot about you.”

  It was a very nice hug — tighter and longer than a normal social greeting — and I enjoyed feeling her breasts pressing against me.

  James stood watching us, wearing a little smile, then stepped forward to Anne. He extended his hand and she took it.

  “What a pleasure,” he said, and he pulled her, so that she had to take a half step toward him. She looked nervous. And radiant. He stepped back to give her a slow once over. He took his time. It was as if Mariko and I didn’t exist.

  Colonel James had a kind of deep confidence that was immediately obvious in his body language, in his imperious tone when he spoke in his British accent. He obviously expected Anne to do as he bid.

  He lifted her arm and twirled her, so that she spun awkwardly around. Then he twirled her the other way.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.

  He put his left hand on her waist and he stepped toward her and she turned up to him and he bent to kiss her on the mouth. Anne closed her eyes. Her left hand clutched at the air and then went limp as he slowly kissed her. She seemed to kind of melt against him as the kiss went on.

  He whispered in her ear when the kiss was finished, and stepped back and surveyed the scene, looking to see that the ice bucket was there and so on.

  She kept her eyes closed for a moment. She was flushed and breathing heavily.

  I held out my hand to him but he appeared not to see it. He clapped me on the back and took me by the shoulder.

  “Simon, I know you’re a wine writer — a celebrated wine writer — so I thought you might serve as our waiter today. I’ve asked the staff not to interrupt us.”

  He steered me toward the ice bucket and I stumbled to do as he asked. He was treating me like a servant, and I was acting like one.

  “Anne,” he said. “Come around the table. I want to take your seat.”

  He took her hand and led her to the seat I had recently vacated. She sat down, obviously nervous, crossed her legs and reached for her phone.

  “Put your phone away,” he said as he took his seat. “Uncross your legs.”


  Anne looked startled but did as she was told.

  “Anne, we are going to have a nice glass of champagne and I am going to ask you some questions,” he said. “I’d like you to do you best to answer honestly and promptly. I may have some questions for Simon afterwards but for now I want to ask you some questions, and I want your attention.”

  Mariko took off her leather jacket and sat down in the third chair. She was wearing a hot pink tank top that matched the streak in her hair. Hanging on a golden chain, nestled between the tops of her breasts, was a golden key with a handle like a lower case “B.”

  I was standing next to the ice bucket, completely ignored and feeling more than a little odd. Apparently there was no chair for me. Was I to open the wine and then hover, filling glasses as needed? Mariko looked over at me, at the ice bucket and pointedly nodded. I set to work.

  “Celeste tells me that you and Simon are interested in joining the Alpha Beta Club,” said Colonel James. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” said Anne. “We are interested. Yes.”

  James let that sit there for a moment. He twisted the ring on third finger of his right hand. It was a heavy and gold, with a stylized Capital A on it.

  “Quite a number of people are interested but not all of them have what we’re looking for,” said James. “Celeste thinks you and Simon do.”

  For a moment Anne didn’t say anything. James was smiling at her expectantly.

  Finally she spoke.

  “I guess we’ll see,” she said.

  He stopped and arched an eyebrow at her.

  “I hope so,” she said.

  He nodded.

  I had uncorked the champagne and stood ready to pour. Mariko nodded at me and I moved around the table, filling the glasses carefully, trying to stay out of the way like a skillful waiter.

  When the glasses were full I returned to stand next to the ice bucket. Nobody acknowledged me but Mariko pointed to a spot on the floor, a few steps away from the table, behind Anne.

  I stood where she directed.

  “Let’s have a toast,” said James, and lifted his glass. Mariko and Anne followed suit.

  “To following our dreams,” he said.

  They clinked glasses and took sips of the wine.

  When Anne placed her glass on the table, James looked at her. She didn’t seem to know where to place her hands.

  “Anne, you seem a little nervous,” he said. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” she said, immediately. “I am.”

  “Finish your glass of wine,” he said.

  She gazed at him for a moment then lifted the champagne and emptied the glass. She replaced it on the table and gave him a cool smile.

  Mariko nodded at me and I refilled the glass.

  “Again,” said James.

  Again she lifted the glass and drained it.

  Her hand seemed to shake a little. Mariko nodded at me and I filled it again.

  “I want you to relax a little,” said James. “Do you like the champagne?”

  “Very much,” said Anne.

  “Good,” said James.

  “Now, you two have been married for two years,” he said. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” said Anne.

  “Celeste said it’s a strong relationship,” he said. His demeanor was warm, conspiratorial.

  “You feel confident that whatever happens at our little parties, you two can handle it?” he asked. “It’s not a threat to your relationship?”

  Anne was nodding.

  “Yes,” she said. “That’s what allows us to … play.”

  “Good,” said James. “Drink some more wine.”

  Anne lifted the glass.

  He held up his hand, stopping her with his gesture. His face was suddenly cold.

  “I would like it,” he said, “if you would acknowledge my instructions. You may say, ‘Yes, Colonel,’ or ‘Yes, sir.’ Do you understand?”

  Anne nodded at him. Her lips were parted and she looked intent on doing as he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “Yes, Colonel.”

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now, finish that glass of wine.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, and drained her glass. Unbidden, I refilled it.

  James drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

  “Until you started spending time with Dave and Celeste, had you two been to any sex parties together?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” said Anne.

  “Had you slept with any men other than your husband in that time?” he asked.

  No, sir,” she said.

  “That changed when Dave and Celeste invited you to their home,” he said. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Anne.

  “Whose idea was it for you to sleep with Dave?”

  She turned to me, standing behind her.

  James held up his hand, silencing her.

  “Do you remember when I said I wanted your attention?” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “I don’t know if I said undivided attention, but that’s what I meant,” he said. “For the moment, please answer my questions without reference to your husband. Pretend he’s not here.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Anne. “I’m sorry.”

  “Good,” he said. “Now, whose idea was it?”

  “It was his idea, Simon’s.”

  “Why do you think he wants you to sleep with other men, Anne?”

  Anne thought for a moment.

  “It is arousing for him, sir,” she said. “Celeste calls it cuck angst.”

  James was smiling and nodding.

  “He’s a lucky man to have a wife who understands his desires and is willing to help him follow his erotic dreams.”

  “Thank you sir,” she said.

  “But you like it as well,” he said. “Is that right? You like being dominated and used by dominant men?”

  “Sometimes,” she said.

  She looked down at her lap.

  “I mean, yes.”

  James was nodding.

  “Celeste told me that before you met Simon, when you were at university, you dated an athlete, someone a bit like Dave?” he said.

  Anne looked surprised.

  “Yes,” she said. “Chris.”

  She had mentioned him to me, and I had seen photos of them together, but I didn’t know much about their relationship.

  “When Simon suggested that you have sex with Dave, did you think about the sex you used to have with Chris?” he said.

  Anne nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you tell Celeste that you missed him, physically?” he said. “Is that right?”

  Anne flushed and stared down at her hands in her lap.

  “I think I did,” she said.

  “Sir,” he said.

  “I think I did, sir,” she said. “I know I did. I did tell her that. Sir. Yes.”

  “Chris cheated on you, treated you badly, but you missed something about him?” he said. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right, sir,” said Anne.

  “You love Simon, enjoy making love with him, but you are drawn to the club because you like men like Chris and Dave? Is that right? Men with what …”

  “Men with something more,” she said. “Sometimes. For fun.”

  “Good,” said James. “That’s what you have to say, if that’s what you want.”

  He turned to me.

  “We’ll have questions for you later, Simon,” he said.

  He took a sip of wine and reached over and absently toyed with Mariko’s hair. She nuzzled against his hand.

  “Mariko shares your taste,” he said to Anne.

  He pushed his finger into her mouth and she sucked it. “Don’t you, Mariko?”

  She nodded, and continued sucking his finger.

  “I like the big bamboo,” she said.

  He dropped his hand down to the chain around her neck.

  “Mariko, how long have you been keep
ing Toshiro in a cage?” he asked.

  “Eight months, sir,” she said.

  James idly tugged at Mariko’s nipple but turned to look at Anne.

  “How long have you been locking up Simon?” he asked.

  “Just two weeks, three weeks,” she said. “Sir.”

  “Are you wearing the chain now?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, and lifted her hand to it.

  “Undo a few buttons on your blouse,” he said. “I want to see it.”

  “Yes, Colonel,” she said, and undid two buttons. She was blushing.

  “Don’t worry,” said James. “Nobody at the other tables can see you. Let me see.”

  He leaned forward and undid another button so that her top was mostly undone, and pulled it open. The chain hung between her breasts, a few inches above the bra.

  He leaned back to look at her.

  “Ideally,” he said, “the key should always be visible. We don’t have a lot of rules in the club, but that’s the idea. You have to signal your availability to the Alphas.”

  He held up his ring.

  “If you meet a man wearing this ring,” he said, “you should be prepared to consider him a friend. If you have an appointment, or are occupied or something, you can beg off, but the idea is to have one’s way with you. The key and the chain remind you of that, to you, your husband and everyone else who knows what it means. Do you want that? Now that you know what it means?”

  Anne turned to look at me and stopped herself.

  “Don’t worry about what your husband wants,” James said. “He can speak for himself, is speaking for himself through his silence, actually. The question is for you. Do you want that? Do you want to join the club?”

  “I do,” Anne said. “I do. Colonel.”

  “Good,” said James. “Take off your bra and hand it to Simon. Don’t worry. Nobody else can see.”

  Anne bit her lip. She looked as if she didn’t know if she could obey him, but then suddenly she was reaching behind her to undo the clasp and then doing that convoluted thing that women do with their shoulders to remove a bra without taking off their shirt. She held it up for me to take and sat in front of him with her blouse open to her waist.

  “Good,” said James and he leaned forward and put his hand inside her blouse and touched her breast, gently. He squeezed it then leaned back.

  “She’s pretty, isn’t she, Mariko?” he said.