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  • A Strange Arrangement Ch. 10

A Strange Arrangement Ch. 10

12

My work at the shelter didn't leave me a lot of free time during the day, so I didn't think much about Tristan or Andrew on Friday. That was good, because when I did think about it, I was nervous. I didn't really want to sleep with Tristan, but it was a means to an end. And I was worried how it would affect Andrew. I hoped it would disillusion him about the kind of girl he thought I was and the kind of girl he hoped I could be.

During the afternoon, Dottie and I were debriefing about a few cases we had processed that morning. I made some passing comment about how I didn't understand how these women could believe they really loved these men.

Dottie stopped looking through papers and stared intently at me across her desk. She pulled off her glasses and said in a surprised voice, "Love? Who said it has anything to do with love?"

"Well, in a lot of cases, they married these guys, they loved them, but when that love is gone, I don't know why they stick around."

"Honey, marriage isn't about love...not at first. Love comes later."

I thought she was joking. Love comes later?

"Oh, what am I thinking," she said dismissively. "You're a product of the past century, when we started confusing romance and marriage. Don't they teach you these things at college?"

"I...don't know," I admitted. Dottie loved it when people were willing to admit their ignorance. She respected it.

"For centuries, millenia, as far back as we can tell, marriage was a social institution. There was an economic aspect, a social stability aspect. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, each party brought unique things into the arrangement and hoped to get something out of it as well."

At the word 'arrangement' I shivered. And I could picture the old lady from the restaurant talking about "give and get, honey, give and get."

"What mattered was the commitment. You committed to give according to what you had to offer, and you were promised to receive what you needed from your spouse. Women usually brought child-bearing and taking care of the home economy."

"And a vagina," I added snidely.

"True," she said, then lowered her voice and smiled, "but men brought a penis, so everyone evened out on that score." She giggled. "You'll have to pardon me, honey. I used to be a professor, and this is a bit of a hobby horse of mine."

I kindly said, "It's fine, please go on."

"Anyway, you weren't expected to love the person in order to marry them. A lot of times you barely even knew them. Can you imagine a honeymoon with a total stranger? It was all about getting to know each other, in bed and out."

"Sounds like rape, if you don't like the guy."

"And what about if the guy didn't like the girl?" she pushed back. "But nobody thought of it like that, not even the women. Sex was a social obligation, something that grew the clan, built a family. It was only recently that we started talking like our lives were strictly our own. Humans have usually held the more sensible notion that we belong to the people around us, and they belong to us. Enjoying sex was a luxury, though I dare say most people experienced that luxury, eventually."

This was quite a lecture. I couldn't help but draw the parallels between what Dottie was describing and what Andrew and I had.

"Love, dearie, love usually followed all that. And not the romantic love we make movies about now, that's just silliness. I'm talking about love that gives and gives and gives. And you feel free to give because they're loving you right back- you're getting what they give. That kind of love binds you to a person, even when you can't stand them sometimes."

I closed my eyes and held back a tear.

"So no, honey, it's not some twisted romantic idea of love that keeps these women coming back. It's the fear of losing everything- they've invested their identities, their futures, their emotions, and yes, their bodies in this relationship, and it's hard to turn your back on that kind of investment. Becoming 'one flesh' isn't just a carnal thing- it's your whole identity that merges with the other person."

"Sounds like you're justifying the abuse they get."

"Oh, no. There's a lot more I could say, but we've got some donors to meet downstairs in a minute. Let's just say that society was responsible to make sure each party upheld their end of the commitment. Make sure a husband provided for his family and treated them right. Make sure the wife kept the home responsibly and didn't deny her husband. What we see now is a breakdown of society's role. When we make marriage an individual thing, a private thing, a strictly romantic thing, well, we untie the ropes that hold the whole thing together. Now you think about that. I want to talk more about this when you're ready. I expect you to push back."

She got up to leave. I sat, wanting to process it and find ways to disagree. Societies change, cultures change, right? But what if our system wasn't working? What if we had lost something important when we demanded our independence?

"You comin', Gina?"

I shook my head to clear it, then followed Dottie down the stairs. As we walked, she gave a last parting thought on the matter, "My problem with so many people in our day is that they won't commit if they don't love. And to that, I say, 'You can't love if you won't commit!'"

*******

I saw Andrew for a few minutes after I got home. He was finishing dinner and putting his shoes on. I didn't tell him about my 'date' with Tristan, lest he avoid the house that night, probably to go star gazing. Let him come home, let him hear me enjoying a meaningless fuck, and let's see what he thinks.

As I cleaned up my room for the evening, it occurred to me that I didn't have any condoms. And I sure didn't think I could trust Tristan to be prepared. He seemed like the type who would try to talk me into going bareback on a one-night stand. I ran to the drug store down the road and picked up a few other random things, just so condoms weren't the only thing in my basket. Funny, I could have sex with a virtual stranger, but I felt self-conscious about the check-out lady knowing that, as a grown woman, I had sex.

At 11pm, I started walking. I knew I would be late, but hey, make the guy wait. I got there at 11:20 and couldn't find Tristan. He texted me saying, Almost there. I was miffed- he was making me wait. He showed up and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. We sat at the bar, tried a few house brews, and talked about Tristan. He did ask about my new job, but any little thing I said just sparked a new Tristan-centric narrative.

A few other girls sat near us during the night, so I felt the need to stake my claim. Putting my hand on his arm as we talked, and rubbing my foot along his calf, I made it clear that he was with me. And I think I made it clear to him that the night wouldn't end here.

A local band was playing jazz-funk in the corner, so it was easier to prolong our stay. Conversation became staggered, and eventually we just listened to the band.

Around 1:45am, I said, "Hey, I'm pretty buzzed, how about you?"

His eyes were glassy; he had been drinking almost two drinks for every one I had. "Yeah, I'm..."

"You're in no shape to drive. And neither am I, but I walked here. Let's go back to my place."

His eyebrows went up and he gave me a goofy grin. "Excellent."

I pulled out his credit card to cover our tab, then took his hand and led him out. The chilly mid-Novemeber air wrecked my buzz and made me a little more alert. Was I really going to do this? It was too late to back out now.

Back at the house, I pointed out the downstairs bathroom to Tristan. "You probably need that, don't you?"

He laughed and said, "For sure." When he was done, he sat on the couch and asked, "So do you have roommates?"

"One. My landlord lives with me. But he's working a night shift."

Looking at the DVDs, he asked, "A dude?"

"Yeah, a dude."

"Kinky. You guys ever hook up?"

"Eww. It's a business arrangement- I rent a room from him."

"Is he old or ugly or something?"

"No. He's just...It's not like that Tristan. Despite what you want to believe, girls aren't looking to jump into bed with every guy they come near."

His beer-addled brain processed that for a second and then registered disappointment. I looked at the clock, it was 2:15. Andrew would be home soon. I considered making a "Do Not Disturb" sign for my door, but if Andrew walked in on the middle of something, all the better, I thought. Let him get an eyeful. It might be hard to explain to Tristan, but I didn't plan to see him again after tonight.

"However," I said in my best sexy voice, "I am looking to jump into bed right now. Are you staying on the couch?"

He smiled and rose, "No, I plan to jump wherever you jump." We walked up the stairs, him right behind me, watching my ass sway.

*******

Tristan took control and tried to make it some kind of passionate, sexy, getting naked as quickly as possible type of thing. I wasn't really into it, but I played along. Besides, I needed Andrew to hear something when he got home. I started making loud moans as Tristan licked my nipples and rubbed my slit.

I expected him to get right down to fucking, but he pushed me onto my back and put his face between my legs. His tongue flicked across my clit very fast, and his fingers pumped in and out of my vagina at the same pace. It was like a scene from a porno, and I wondered if any woman actually enjoyed that kind of treatment.

But then I heard the front door close and I closed my legs around Tristan's head a little, not wanting him to hear that Andrew was home. It sounded like Andrew microwaved some food, then headed up the steps with it. As the footsteps got more audible, I began moaning...loud.

"OOOhhh! Oh baby! Yeah! Oh, that's it! Faster! MMMF!"

The footsteps paused. If I hadn't been listening for them, I would've missed them entirely. They resumed softly, coming closer. Yes!

"Oh, baby! I'm going to...Oh! Oh yes! I'm cumming!" Total lie. I squeezed my legs and pulled Tristan's face into me. I might have been too rough, but it was partly revenge. He kept flicking that tongue and ramming those fingers. Andrew's presence aside, I probably would have faked it just to get that to stop.

"Are you ready?" I asked, louder than necessary.

"The question is, Are you ready for this?" he said, holding his hard cock. I inwardly groaned. Outwardly, I cooed, "Give it to me, but first, put this on." It had been so long since I had used one that I had almost forgotten the condom. Thankfully, it was within reach, in the nightstand.

"Do we really need that? I trust you. Don't you trust me?"

I stared daggers at him, but said sweetly, "House rules, honey. This firecracker doesn't bang without safety gear." I had planned that line and was proud of it.

Putting on the condom under my supervision, he climbed over me and thrust in. I was glad I had bought lubricated condoms. Tristan had no idea how wet I wasn't. He grunted and groaned as he worked his way in. "Damn, girl, you are tight!"

"Ohh, I think you're just so biiig," I groaned. I actually had to stop myself from laughing a few times.

I heard soft steps walking away. He had stayed long enough to hear that there was a man in the room with me. If he had stayed two minutes longer, he could have heard the whole thing. Tristan started jack-hammering into me, bending my legs up to my chest.

"Oooh, fuck! Oooh fuck baby! Oh, you're so hot!" And so on. Did he really need to talk the whole time?

Nevertheless, I added my voice, hoping Andrew could hear down the hall, "Aw yeah, baby! Yes, harder! Do me baby! Harder!" I tried to think of all the porn clichés I could shout. "Fuck my pussy, baby! Just like that!"

After a minute of the most vocal sex of my life, I saw Tristan's eyes clench shut as he sped up. Good, we could end this. I shouted, "I'm cumming baby! I'm cumming on your cock! Oh, baby!" I squeezed my walls around him for effect. Tristan pushed one more time and held himself in me. My legs were about to cramp, being pressed against my breasts for the past few minutes, but I squeezed Tristan's ass and moaned, "Ohhh, yeah! Cum with me baby, cum with me." He squeezed my breasts as he groaned and finished cumming.

With a big sigh, Tristan pulled out, remembering to hold the condom on. I stretched my aching legs and watched him throw the condom away. "Gina, that was hot! Give me a little bit and I'll be ready to go again. Maybe you could help me out..."

"Tristan, you're not staying the night." Gone was sexy minx Gina, sensible Gina was back in play.

"But, baby, we could..."

"Let's not make this something it's not, OK? We both wanted a little action, we're done now. I'm not going to get all cuddly and clingy."

"But I'm too drunk to..."

I already had the taxi number ready to call. Seeing no point in arguing, Tristan got dressed. While he used the bathroom, I put on my robe. I walked him downstairs and got him a glass of water while we waited. We chit-chatted about people at work until he went staggering out to the cab. He turned to me and said, "You're cool, Gina. I'm glad you get it and aren't trying to nail me down." Then he smiled and said to himself, "Ha. Nail." I stood at the doorway, watching him go. It was the last I ever saw of Tristan.

*******

I walked back into the house, closing the door behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Andrew standing in the dark kitchen. It was 3am. Suddenly, all of this seemed like a bad idea.

"You used a condom, right?"

In a slightly exasperated voice, I answered, "Yes, dad, we used a condom."

"Come to my bed," he said firmly, and walked upstairs.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course he would still be awake, and we hadn't had any sexual contact since a morning blow job 6 days earlier- twice as long as we'd ever gone without. I couldn't tell how he was feeling- Angry? Possessive? Frustrated? Just plain horny?

I followed him up the stairs and into his room, pausing just inside the doorway. He very gently took my robe off of me and set it on the glider. Pulling his own shirt off, he stood in front of me and held my arms against my sides. He said nothing. Moving closer, he brought his face close to mine. He closed his eyes in pain and sighed. Then with no warning, he bent down and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me over to his bed. I put my arms around his neck to steady myself.

He set me down in the middle of the bed and took his pants off. He was so very hard, so very ready. Before climbing into bed, he walked over to the nightstand, where a bottle of lube was sitting out. We was ready for this, and he wasn't going down on me, obviously. Lubing just the head of his shaft, he climbed on top of me and nestled his tip into my opening. Hand still on his tool, he moved it around in little circles, spreading the lube to prepare for entry. Then pulling his hand away and putting it on the bed beside me, he pushed into me in one long, slow, firm motion.

I tried to remain passive and quiet the whole time. However, when he pushed in, I couldn't help but moan. This. Definitely this. I wanted this. This felt right. Damn it all, I was pretty sure I was going to be able to cum, as long as Andrew wasn't planning to finish in record time.

For whatever reason, I resolved not to let Andrew know when I came. Then I thought about the humor in that- faking a loud orgasm an hour before with one guy and then trying to fake not having an orgasm with another guy.

"Did you kiss him?" Andrew's question interrupted my thoughts.

"Of course not, it was just sex. Just a..."

His mouth on mine kept me from making my point. I didn't mind. I breathed in deep through my nose and held the back of his head. This.

But part of me insisted on fighting back. "It was nothing, Andrew. Just a meaningless fuck for both of us. A very satisfying, meaningless fuck."

Thrusting slowly in and out, Andrew put his mouth next to my ear and spoke softly. "One thing I love about you, Gina, is that you are a terrible liar and a horrible actress. You're just too genuine to fake anything well."

He lifted his head up to see my reaction. My eyes were narrow slits. He went on, "There was nothing satisfying about that for you." It wasn't a question.

"OK, so Tristan is a less than attentive partner. I don't plan to see him again, anyway"

"I don't get what your game is, Gina. Obviously this whole night was for my...benefit. But to what end?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I felt like he could see right through me, sometimes. It was that exposed feeling, and not my exposed body, that made me so uncomfortable with him.

"Gina, you're lying."

"Andrew, shut up."

"We'll talk later," he grunted. With that he rolled over and let me lead for a while. That suited me just fine. I put my forearms on his chest and held his face in my hands, kissing when I had enough breath to do so. I took a slower pace than Andrew had been using, but I was trying to rub myself against him just right. I was getting closer...but not close enough. I pulled my knees up to his sides, hoping the different stimulation would help. After several minutes, I was hotter, but getting frustrated.

Andrew, meanwhile, reached for a pillow and pulled it down next to our hips. He reached for another and put it on top of the first. Then he started us in a roll, ending up on top of the pillows. O God, the pillow thing! It took a few seconds of adjusting and readjusting, but we finally found the right angle. I knew instantly that this would get me there. Andrew kept the slow pace I had set, slowing it down even more by holding himself at his deepest point after each thrust. His pattern was thrust, hold, kiss, relax. Thrust, hold, kiss, relax. Some kisses made it to my mouth, some to my nipples, some to my neck...

I was really close, but since I didn't want to let on, I pulled Andrew's head next to mine. I whispered in his ear, "Go ahead and finish whenever you're ready, I'm not that into it tonight." But I was closer than I thought. Putting my other hand on his butt, I held him in during a thrust and did a few last pushes with my hips. I came, but I held in my reaction. I winced and breathed sharply through my nose. My legs twitched but I tightened them. I instinctively squeezed Andrew with my arms.

He pulled himself up and looked at me. "Are you OK?"

"Leg cramp," I groaned as my head jerked a little.

"Oh! Sorry," and he started to pull out.

"No, don't move!" I ordered, grimacing. I breathed through clenched teeth and squeezed my legs over and over. Finally, I was on my way down. "It's fine now," I told him, and started moving my hips slowly against him.

"Gina?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a horrible liar."

I reached up and smacked his chest in frustration. "Shut up."

"I've never known a leg cramp to make a woman's walls squeeze me like that. Leg cramp? Really?"

I opened my eyes wide and looked at him sternly. "Shut up or we're done here," I warned, never intending to follow through on that threat. He began slowly moving in and out again.

After cumming, I started to realize how tired I was. "Andrew...it's late."

"I know. I'll make you a deal."

"A deal?"

"You stay the night in my bed, and I won't ever ask you why you did this tonight."

"I could say 'no deal' and then just refuse to answer whenever you ask me about it."

12
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