Blind Date (10 page)

Liv took the bait, sounding interested despite herself. “What kind of questions?”

“Oh, you know,” Merci said dismissively, wondering herself just how she should answer Liv.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

Merci pretended to demur, buying herself time to concoct a story. “Oh this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Tell me!”

“Well sometimes when we’re lying together after sex and he’s well...spent, he starts asking me questions about you.”

Liv was getting impatient.

“What questions?”

“You know. What was it like to live with you? Did you date a lot? What kind of men interested you?”

“Is that all?” Liv definitely sounded disappointed.

“No...” Merci made the word sound tentative while she searched for something else to say. She really didn’t know how much further she should go.

“And?”

“This is just so embarrassing.”

“You started it! Now you have to finish!”

“He wants to know if I ever saw you with any of your boyfriends.”

“And did you?”

“Of course, we were roommates, remember? We were always kissing someone or making out on our beds.”

“I remember,” Liv said. It was the first genuinely warm expression she had made since answering the phone. “Those were the days. We had guys all over us and man did they like to play with your tits. It seems like every time I glanced over from my bed at you, some guys tongue was down your throat and his hand was under your shirt.”

Merci laughed at the memories. Those really were the days! And it wasn’t just hands on her breasts that were so great. When she let a guy work her shirt up her chest so he could nibble at her tits through her bra...

There was one time in particular. Liv was sucking face with some guy on her bed across the room and Merci had let this hunk work her t-shirt up to her chin and pop one of her breasts out of her bra. Most guys either licked, nursed, or chewed. But this boy had tried to work her entire breast into his mouth and suck her nipple down his throat. Merci had never felt anything like it before or since, but something about his tonsils on her nipple had felt divine.

Of course he had ruined everything a few minutes later by straddling her waist, opening his pants and attempting to fuck her tits right there in front of Liv and her one night stand.

“You’ve gotten all quiet,” Liv said. “What are you thinking about?”

Now Merci felt genuinely embarrassed. “I was just thinking of our college years. You know, a lot of guys you made out with had their hands under your shirt as well.”

Liv voiced her skepticism. “You were thinking about guys reaching up under my shirt?”

“No,” Merci admitted. “I was remembering the night I almost died of embarrassment when my date whipped out his cock in front of you and your guy.”

“Oh, you mean Alfred,” Liv laughed. “I remember that. He was so hot. I always wished you had let him tit fuck you.”

“You’re not serious. You were right there with his friend.”

“And we wanted to watch him do it!”

“You’re not-”

Liv kept laughing. “Really, Merci, what’s the point of having those big breasts if you don’t use them. I mean, I’ve tried it, but I’m really not built for it like you are.”

“You really wanted me to do it?”

“Of course we did! The question is why didn’t you want him to?”

“I was just so embarrassed. It’s so dirty and messy...”

“And you don’t like dirty sex?” Liv teased. “You don’t let Chris fuck those big tits of yours and shoot his cum in your face?”

Merci gently rubbed herself through her sweat pants. She did like it when Chris squeezed her breasts against his cock and fucked her mouth, but she wasn’t sure she wanted Liv to know that.

“You do, don’t you?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Merci said. “You agree to come over Friday night for an old fashioned girl’s night in and I’ll tell you anything you want to know—assuming you get me drunk enough.”

“Anything?” Liv asked, clearly giving the invitation serious consideration. “Does that include telling me everything Chris asks you about me?”

Got you! Merci thought. “So, I’ll see you Friday night?”

“Okay,” Liv agreed, “on one condition. We can talk about Chris but I don’t want to see him.”

That wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a beginning.

Chapter Twenty Five

Merci

“You told her what?”

Merci really hadn’t expected her news to make Chris angry. “It was just a little white lie.”

“I can’t believe you would do this!” he shouted. “What could you have been thinking?”

Merci pulled away from Chris’ angry voice—not exactly frightened, but certainly disconcerted by it. “I just want her to like us again.”

“Like us?” Chris repeated. “Merci, she hates us! Don’t you remember what she did? Liv’s a conniving, manipulative, evil bitch!”

This last string of insults directed at her friend stiffened Merci’s spine so that she started fighting back. “She is not!” she shouted. “She’s a good friend! She’s just hurt because you were an asshole to her!”

“An asshole? I don’t remember having sex with her! I didn’t call her because I didn’t know there was anything to call about! You think I like blacking out and not remembering fucking a woman?”

“Well what the hell were you doing drinking so much?” Merci shouted back.

“Look who’s talking,” Chris countered. “You get tipsy every goddamn time we go out!”

“This isn’t about me!”

“Of course it is! You told Liv I can’t stop talking about her. Now she probably thinks I’ve been pining away for her all of these years. What’s next? Am I supposed to fuck her for old times sake? How the hell is that suppose to get you your friend back?”

“Fuck her?” The idea astounded Merci. “Of course not,” she sputtered. “Is that what you want?”

“What I want?” Chris shouted. “What the hell did you do with your brains? Have you forgotten what she wanted you to do to me? I don’t want her coming within ten miles of us!”

Chris’ face was flushed with anger—so red, in fact, that Merci suddenly began to worry about his blood pressure. She was a healer by nature, not a fighter. She took a step back from her boyfriend and lowered her voice. “I just want my friend back,” she said. “I just want you and Liv to stop fighting so I can have both of you in my life again.”

Chris lowered his voice to match hers. “Merci, honey, I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t think that’s possible. She’s been angry for too long. We can’t trust her!”

Merci felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I just…I hate things being like this. I hate Liv being mad at me.”

Chris hesitated for a moment, and then took her into his arms. “What do you want me to do?”

Merci didn’t answer Chris immediately. Instead she buried her face in his chest and tried to get her emotions under control. She didn’t like getting angry and she really didn’t like crying. She wanted Chris to do this because it was the right thing to do—not because she manipulated him into helping with a few well-timed tears.

He caressed the back of her head. “What do you want me to do?” he asked again.

“I just…” She stopped, cleared her throat and tried again. “I promised Liv you wouldn’t be here Friday night, but I’m hoping—hoping—I can get her to change her mind. Could you just be on call? Hang out at a local bar and wait for me to phone?”

Chris considered that for a few moments. “If you want to rekindle your friendship with Liv, why does it have to involve me? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to just hang out with her Friday night and leave me out of it?”

Merci shook her head. “You’re part of my life now, Chris. I want Liv to accept that. I want you and Liv to make peace.”

“So you keep saying,” Chris reminded her, “but I’m not the problem here. Liv is the one who won’t give up her grudge.”

“Will you do it?” Merci asked. “For me?”

“Sit in a bar Friday night and wait for you to call?”

“And be nice to Liv when you get here,” Merci added.

“What exactly does that mean?” Chris asked. “Pretend I’m obsessed with her like you suggested?”

“More fascinated than obsessed,” Merci said. “Obsessed sounds like something you need a restraining order for when we’re looking to start a conversation over a good glass of wine.”

Chris considered this for several seconds, neither affirming nor denying his willingness to help.

Despite her theoretical desire to see Chris decide what to do on his own, Merci decided he could use some positive motivation. She sank down to her knees in front of him and massaged the bulge in his pants. “Still not sure? Maybe I can help you make up your mind.”

Part IV: Making Trouble

Chapter Twenty Six

Merci

Merci opened the door Friday night to find Liv holding a bottle of wine. Her friend was dressed casually in comfortable black leg-hugging workout pants, a loose gray t-shirt, and what was probably a dark green sports bra peeking out at the neck. The casual athletic look worked well for Liv. Her body wasn’t voluptuous but it was fit, lean and sexy.

Merci had dressed equally comfortably in gray sweat pants and a loose red sweatshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra at all. The way she saw it, for a woman with breasts as large as hers, a bra was either very confining or not worth wearing. And Liv was an old college roommate—she’d seen Merci going casual plenty of times.

They kissed each other perfunctorily on the cheek and Merci accepted the bottle of wine. “I’m glad I waited to get started. Let’s go open this right now.”

She led the way into the television room and opened the bottle over a lovely antique credenza she had picked up in an estate auction two years before. She filled the first goblet halfway and started to move to the second.

Liv touched her arm. “You better fill it to the rim. We’ve a lot to talk about tonight, and it will be a lot easier if we start off drunk.”

Liv’s suggestion disconcerted Merci. She loved wine and had planned to get Liv drunk—but Liv’s aggressive complicity in her plan was unexpected and Merci wasn’t certain what to make of it.

She finished filling the goblets, stopping half an inch below the rim of each glass. That wasn’t enough to let the wine properly breathe, but she decided it was better to do as Liv asked.

“Thank you,” Liv acknowledged, picking up one of the goblets. “I have one question before we begin. Is God’s Gift really not here tonight?”

Merci frowned. “He really isn’t like that—God’s Gift, I mean.”

“Fine! Would you prefer I say the stud or the stallion?”

Merci giggled despite herself. “He is sort of both of those things.”

“Stud it is,” Liv announced, her face showing her disgust. “Is he here?”

“No,” Merci confirmed.

“Good!” Liv lifted her glass. “To good friends! May no dicks come between them!”

She drained half the glass, her mouth twisting in a grimace at the taste. “Perhaps we should have let that breathe.”

Merci agreed, but the heat flushing her face and chest made the too-rapid decantering acceptable.

“So let’s sit down,” Liv said, “and you can tell me what you want to talk about.”

Liv moved to the leather couch, choosing one end and sitting at an angle which would let her face Merci when she sat at the other side. Merci mirrored Liv’s movements, pulling one leg up on the cushion to face her old friend.

“Seeing anyone lately?” Merci asked.

“No,” Liv said. “Darren didn’t last. I pretty much kicked him out for inspiring me to set you up with Chris.”

“Your first black man,” Merci said, remembering.

“Not really my first,” Liv corrected her, a wicked smile forming on her face. “I actually slept with Alfred’s friend you know-”

“You didn’t!” The very idea shocked Merci. She knew that Liv had slept with a couple of guys in college. Hell, she had slept with one of them across the dorm room while Merci pretended to be sleeping. But Alfred’s friend? She would have sworn that night in their room was the last that Liv had seen of him. “What was his name anyway?”

“You know, I’ve been trying to remember his name ever since you reminded me of Alfred on the phone this week. It still hasn’t come back to me. But after you got us both so turned on with Alfred slurping on your nipples, I had to go track the two of them down the next night.”

“You didn’t!”

Liv took another sip of wine and closed her eyes. “You know I love the way the warmth of the wine rises out of your chest to hit you right here,” she said, touching the inner curves of her breast through the fabric of her shirt.

“You didn’t,” Merci repeated.

“No, I didn’t,” Liv admitted. “I wanted to, but I only found his friend and I sat on his stiff rod in the backseat of his Buick. It was not my best experience. Come to think of it, it was close to my worst. I didn’t come at all, but I still remember hanging over the front seat, lowering myself on to him and then hauling myself up into the air again.”

“I...I...”

“You’re too astonished for words,” Liv finished. “I know. I slept with a lot of guys you never knew about back then. In some ways you were very innocent and naive. You still are if your judgment of Chris is any example.”

“Liv!”

“Really, Merci, what has he got going for him other than a really big dick.”

Merci felt a flush of anger and embarrassment flooding her face. “He’s kind and sweet and really attentive.”

Liv waived her hand dismissively. “The first two are just blah—even worse than being the SOB I’ve always thought him to be. The third is just as bad, unless you’re talking about being attentive in bed.”

Merci couldn’t help but smile. “Chris is very good in bed.”

“Really, Merci, you know as well as I do that men with big shlongs are rarely good for more than shoving it in and out of you.”