The four women showed up just after seven that evening, carrying boxes of Chinese food and red wine. They set the table and sat down.
“Now, Sasha,” said Scarlet Styles, “I want to hear everything down to the smallest detail.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Sasha replied.
“Are you trying to tell me that that young, succulent thing was here for a whole week and not once did he touch you?” her friend asked.
“Actually, I don’t think he is too interested in women,” Sasha replied.
“What a bunch of hogwash,” Autumn Chance said. “If we weren’t there at Pennyfeathers, he would’ve taken you right there on the table.”
“That’s what he is paid to do,” she said.
“I’ve been around this world more times than his number of years, and I can tell when a man wants to get into my pants,” Autumn said.
“So honey, just tell us what he did,” said the Southern belle Indigo West. “He must have done something, else you wouldn’t have kept him here for a whole week.”
“I asked him to go, but he said he had already been paid, and didn’t want to give the money back.”
“So you allowed him to stay?” Scarlet Styles asked, staring at Ruby Redfern.
“I know you find it difficult to believe me, but I am telling you the truth.”
“If Sasha says nothing happened, I believe her,” said Ruby.
Sasha breathed a sigh of relief, because she thought the conversation about Jack was over.
“What’s the matter?” asked Indigo West. “You look like a cat on a hot tin roof.”
Everyone started to laugh. They could always count on Indigo to set the tone with her Southern expressions.
“What does a cat on a hot tin roof look like?” Autumn asked.
“Like Sasha. Nervous. There is nothing to worry about, Sash. If it had been my birthday, I would’ve cornered him and taken everything I wanted, if he didn’t give it to me.”
“He’s a little boy,” said Sasha. “I am almost twice his age.”
“So what?” drawled Indigo West. “He probably knows all the new things that would make a woman crawl on her shoulders. He could teach us a thing or two. I’m not looking for any old man to give me a two minute workout. I want it all day and all night long.”
The group cackled like setting hens.
“My husband,” she said. “God rest his soul ....”
“What do you mean, God rest his soul?” Scarlet shouted. “Your husband is still alive.”
“As far as I’m concerned, Harry West is dead.”
There was another round of gut-wrenching laughter.
“So what were you saying about Harry?” Sasha asked.
“Well I didn’t do anything with him for about one year before we separated. I knew deep in my heart that something was wrong, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”
“How did you find out?”
“He said he had something to tell me, so I sat down expecting to hear about some little girl who was looking for a father type figure.”
“Get to the point, Indigo,” Ruby shouted.
“Patience,” she said softly. “I am trying to tell a story.”
“Tell us what happened,” said Sasha.
“He started with all these big pompous words and not getting to the point. Then he said, “I’ve met someone.”
“You’ve met someone,” I shouted.
“Yes. He is.... Well if you had stuck me with a needle, you wouldn’t have found a drop of blood. I started to holler and he didn’t know what to do.”
“And what? I threw him out and today, he is happy with his new lover, whom I’ve met, and who I think is a very lovely young man. Don’t know what he is doing with the minute man.”
The women were all silent. One could hear a pin drop. Indigo had always spoken as if her life in the South was the fountain of happiness, and that she and her husband’s relationship only fell apart because they had simply fallen out of love.
“You are really gracious,” said Autumn Chance. “I don’t think I could’ve been so charitable.”
“It wasn’t the other man’s fault. It was my husband’s. Then I was suddenly afraid,” she said. “My blood started pumping through my veins. Boom! Boom! Boom!”
“Indigo, my patience is wearing thin,” said Sasha. “Tell us what happened.”
“What if Harry had passed on some disease to me, I thought. Like that papi...”
“Papilloma virus?” asked Scarlet.
“Yes, that’s what I mean. And worse, it could be AIDS. So bright and early the following morning, I showed up at the doctor’s office without an appointment. He asked me all kinds of questions. Was I having an extramarital affair as if it was any of his business? I decided not to tell him the truth about Harry. In the South, that would’ve been out there faster than a bell clapper in a goose’s ass. Anyway, when the results came back a few weeks later, he called me into his office. Well I sat there waiting in his waiting room sweating like a whore during Sunday morning church service.”
Although there was seriousness to the conversation, the group of friends burst into laughter.
“And what about the results?” asked Sasha.
“I was lucky. I got a second lease on life, and I intend to enjoy myself. I’m just waiting for some nice juicy thing to come along, so Sasha, I’m not leaving here tonight without Jack Hammer’s telephone number.”
He woke up the following morning, facing the same predicament he had the previous evening. It was time to seek relief from the thing that now constantly plagued him. After satisfying himself one more time, he took a shower and started breakfast. He was not in the mood to sit out on the terrace, so he set the table and waited. Sasha did not appear, as she normally would at that time of the morning. He knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she said in a low voice.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “I’ve prepared a lovely farewell breakfast for you.”
“Sorry, Jack. I can’t eat this morning,” she said. “I’ve got a migraine.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a glass of water and a cold compress.
“Where’s your Tylenol?” he asked.
“I’ve got prescription pills for my migraines,” she said. “Pull the drawer there, and you’ll see them.”
When he pulled open the drawer, not only did he find the pills, but a handsome sex toy.
“I know. I know,” she said, forgetting it was in the drawer. “That’s Bill. He is the best boyfriend a girl can ever want. I always know where he is, and he is never unfaithful to me.”
“Take these,” he said, handing her two pills and the glass of water.
He placed the compress to the side of her head and propped her neck with another pillow.
“You’re too good to me, Jack.”
“That’s because I like you, Sasha, and I could easily love you,” he said.
“You’re much too kind, Jack.”
“All right, Sasha. Who stole your self-confidence?” he asked.
She did not reply, but closed her eyes and he quietly left the bedroom.
No wonder she hasn’t attacked me, he thought. Bill has been my competition all this time. Half an hour later, when he looked in on her, she was still writhing in pain.
“Perhaps a warm shower would help,” he said.
That also did not relieve her of the violent pain a migraine brings with it. He proceeded to massage her temple and the back of her neck.
“Lie on your back,” he said. “I just thought of something that I think will help you.”
“I’m willing to do anything that will help,” she said.
“Anything?” he asked.
He lifted her dress, pulled off her underwear, and spread her thighs.
“What are you doing?” a shocked Sasha asked.
“Relieving the tension,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s purely medicinal.”
She wanted to protest and she wanted to give in willingly, but even in her pain, she was brought to gut roaring laughter. His head descended between her thighs, setting all senses on high alert. The pain of the migraine increased, her heartbeat quickened, and it felt as if all the blood in her body had rushed down between her thighs. She was not aware that she had so many nerve endings down there. Every turn of his tongue sent her into endless bliss. Her moans grew louder and louder, giving the unintended listener the impression of pain being inflicted upon her. He, too, wondered if she was experiencing pain and lifted his head to glance at her. Her eyes were closed tightly, but the moment he stopped to glance up at her, she opened them. His lips bore the telltale signs of her juices, glistening around his sensual lips. He once again flicked his tongue across her clit and she groaned.
“Oh God,” she called out.
“It’s Jack,” he said, temporarily releasing her clit. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m getting ready to be fucked,” she said.
No longer able to control her movements, and the migraine temporarily forgotten, she lifted her hips upward to meet the revolutions of his tongue against her wet pussy, and two fingers found refuge in her dark, slippery canal.