Double-Crossed (3 page)

“Where the hell did Don go? Is he after Marianne?”

“Don is out doing his job, just like you should be. Don't worry about Marianne. I told you. I have a strong feeling that she won't be testifying. Now put me down!”

Peter picked Joe up by his shirt collar and dropped him in his place. “I'll deal with this later,” he said as he ran out the door.

* * *

Marianne walked into the night air, feeling weightless, the burden of Joe as part of her future abolished forever. She didn't know what it would take to avoid getting caught up in this legal case, but Joe had played the situation well. He knew she wanted out, and she knew he didn't really want her. Oh, he wanted her in that territorial way that men have when they don't want to give up what's “theirs,” but he didn't want her specifically. No, finally she felt truly free. Like a wild panther escaping a cage, the feeling intoxicated her, driving her pulsing blood.

Out in the streets, the Cross heated up. The roads filled with partiers. Folk from the suburbs out for the wild fling they expected the Cross could sell on demand.

Marianne breathed the air, its fire electrifying her from within. Not wanting to go home, she remembered the promise she'd made to herself—a stopover at The Pleasure Chest on her way home. A favorite treat, evening visits were regular, with Saturday night being the easiest night to remain anonymous. One was never as invisible as in a crowd. On a night like this, no one would assume anything of a woman going alone into a sex shop.

Marianne crossed at the El Alamein Fountain and walked a few paces down to The Pleasure Chest. There were many sex shops at the Cross, but Marianne loved this one most of all. Part of the attraction lay in the owners, Bill and Jen. Over the years, she'd developed a strong friendship with them. Their unusual version of monogamy attracted questioning glances, but Marianne loved the example. Both were bisexual, taking many different lovers, but always together. This created a tremendous bond between them, which evolved into a genuine love, moving past all boundaries into a deeper kind of fidelity. Bill, a smallish, muscle-bound man, with blond hair and the all-year-round tan, had the good looks thing down pat. Fitness and health featured heavily in his daily routine, bordering on obsession. He wasn't Marianne's type, but she knew men at the Cross drooled over him.

Another deal all together, Jen, perpetually dressed in striking ink-colored clothes, almost looked the part of a goth. She had long hair that she dyed pitch-dark. The exotic look, accentuated by her lanky frame, elicited in her customers an edgy fear that anything could happen in her company. She gave the impression she was a stripe of black imagination, brushed across one's safe reality. Even though she slept with women, she'd never hit on Marianne; neither had Bill. As their friend, Marianne suspected they felt a little protective of her.

Tonight Jen sat behind the counter alone.

“Hey, Mary. Nice to see you as always, love. Do you want the usual booth?”

“Bring it on, Jen! I'm in such a good mood, I feel like celebrating. How's Bill?”

“Gorgeous. He's at the gym.”

At the counter, Marianne handed over twenty dollars, while Jen busied herself with collecting ten tokens. Feeling relaxed, perusing the store, Marianne saw a display of erotic outfits for women. Among them sat a dress made of translucent, shimmering silver folded up in a packet. The front cover showed a woman wearing it, her breasts forced forward, and her long legs snaking out from under the hem. Picking up the small wrapper, Marianne wondered what she'd look like in a dress like that.

“You know, you'd look fabulous in that,” Jen said warmly, unapologetically letting her eyes roam over Marianne's curvaceous frame. “It's one size fits all, because it's really like a stocking, but you, with your nice big tits and tiny waist, would look a real tasty sight.” Jen held out a heavily tattooed arm and took the packet from Marianne. She slid a long red nail under the opening and peeled the dress out from inside. It shimmered and shone in the counter light. Marianne reached her hand into the body of the dress, and the silk-stocking film clung to her arm, feeling deliciously soft.

“Wow, it's gorgeous.”

Jen looked at her thoughtfully. “Honey, far be it from me to discourage an excellent customer, but don't you suppose a
real
man would be better than these skin flicks? I mean, don't get me wrong. I like a little pornography as much as the next healthy girl, but now that you've left Joe and gotten yourself out of that sleaze, maybe it's time to find yourself a flesh-and-blood man?”

“I don't know. I may not be the nice-guy type. I have a history, and there's nothing conventional about it.”

“Babe, a good man will want you, regardless. He'll love who you are without worrying about who you should be. Take my Bill. I'm hardly an easy woman to love.”

Marianne looked at the raven-haired beauty, tattooed down each arm, long, thick plait reaching past her shiny, latex-covered ass. She laughed.

“I guess you're proof that a man can be open-minded. But how many Bills are there in the world? And how on Earth am I supposed to find one?” With that, she took her tokens and headed toward the end of the store. Walking past vibrators and blow-up dolls, Marianne felt struck by what Jen said.

Maybe there is something wrong with me
, she couldn't help thinking.
What kind of woman likes to come and do this sort of thing as a treat?

The shop bustled, not being too overcrowded. On a Saturday night, Darlinghurst Road made room for folk who were not used to the Cross. There were many couples, a few men alone, and some women in groups, giggling self-consciously. All very user-friendly. Marianne headed for the large black door at the back of the store. Without hesitating, she pulled it open and stepped through.

A row of nine small, white booths faced her. Driven by habit, she went directly for booth seven. Her usual one, it had the selection of films she preferred. She caught the eye of a man stepping out of one of the other booths, who immediately reversed, closing the door behind him. It was tough on the guys. Seeing a woman in there filled them with panic and desire at the same time. What could she want? It was all so very confusing. Better to get straight to her booth and make sure she didn't bother any of the other customers who'd come for a discreet few minutes alone. Inside the booth a shelf with a box of tissues jutted out of the wall, a bin for used tissues sat on the floor, and a small chair made up the creature comforts. A little TV screen sat on the wall in front. All the booths had double cladding to be soundproof. As a bit of a precaution, Marianne always laid several tissues over the small chair.
You never know who's been in before you
, she reminded herself, looking at the bin filled with used tissues.

Sitting comfortably, she placed one of the four tokens into the slot next to the screen and up popped a menu. She had a choice of four of her favorites: FLESHPOINT, PIRATES, THE NEW NEIGHBORS, and THEY CUM FROM OUTER SPACE.

Marianne loved this selection. Prudish she wasn't, but these were women-friendly pornographic films. They had a little girl on girl, a little group sex, but most of all, plenty of hot, hunky men getting it on with gorgeous women. She clicked the button adjoining
Fleshpoint
. Tonight, it just had to be a fireman!

The scene selection popped up first. Ten tokens gave her twenty minutes. She didn't have a vibrator with her (she usually liked to have one in her handbag, for emergencies), so tonight she'd have to use her faithful fingers.

Knowing she had time for two scenes, she divided them into the warm-up scene and the coming scene. She had no doubt about the one that would make her come; that'd be the regular favorite in this flick. However, to warm her up, there were several nice choices. Marianne finally settled on a girl-girl scene at the end of the film. One of those scenes was guaranteed to get a girl hot and bothered no matter how many times she'd seen it. After selecting, she eased back on the chair and got comfortable.

It opened with two women, Cindy and Jordan, eating dinner in a restaurant. The women were Barbie types, stereotypically gorgeous and made for sex. They both had long blonde hair and wore tight dresses, one in pink and one in blue. The dresses hid very little, and both the women had tense, erect nipples extending deliciously from the curves of their large breasts. Flirting brazenly, they performed for the camera, teasing and titillating each other. Shamelessly, they turned each other on, despite being in a crowded restaurant.

In an entirely intentional move, Jordan dropped her napkin on the floor, and feigning surprise, fell to her knees to pick it up. Under the table, she had a flawless view of her mate's shapely legs. Kissing an ankle, she slid her tongue seductively up the inner calf, knee, and thigh until her head buried itself between Cindy's legs.

“Mmm…” Cindy moaned.

Marianne felt her soft, damp opening ache as she could see the back of the blonde head bobbing while it performed its luscious ministrations.

Above the table, the moans drew attention, causing Cindy embarrassment, so she encouraged her lover on the carpet to get up and return to her seat. Driven feral with lust, Jordan refused and went on drinking the wild, flowing juice of the pussy.

Clearly, sitting at the table wasn't going to happen. Cindy allowed herself to give in to her desire and asked her friend to join her in the powder room. Both women were satisfied with this idea and headed to the back of the restaurant, every eye in the room following their curvaceous arses. Once in the privacy of the powder room, they fell immediately into a hot and heavy embrace.

Marianne felt the potent flow of sexual need also now. She imagined herself sandwiched between the two women, their swelling curves rubbing against her own. Watching them kiss, open-mouthed, hot tongues wetly caressing each other, spoke to that beast deep inside.

They looked as though some primal necessity drove them. As if a longing that refused to stay rose up from their depths. Kissing hard, Cindy, the shorter of the pair, pulled Jordan's dress down to reveal large, luscious breasts. Falling heavily on them, as would anyone faced with such a temptation, she sucked skillfully, sliding her hands between her lover's legs to massage her no doubt very wet pussy.

Marianne pulled her legs apart, dragging her panties down to her knees. She put her fingers in her mouth and wet them properly, so as not to hurt her hard clit when she rubbed on it, and slid her fingers into her own wetness. The hot slickness drizzled out of her. The hard, stretchy ache at her opening wanted massaging, and her clitoris throbbed for attention. Where to go first? Marianne loved the feeling of working the opening of her vagina. Plunging her fingers in became involuntary when this aroused by something as nasty as watching porn in a sex shop; she hated to ignore that feeling in her tense inner walls. Her wet, slippery hole sucked on her fingers, trying to get them inside her.

Looking up at the film, she saw the first woman now on her knees between the legs of the second woman. The film slowed to show her tongue come out of her mouth and snake carefully into the folds of the other woman's labia. There were groans and gasps from the standing woman as she took her lover's head and pressed it harder between her legs, but not so hard that the tongue could not be clearly seen receding and a long strand of clear love juice stretching between the extended tongue and the hot, wet lips.

That image never failed! Marianne could barely handle the thought of that woman's tongue snaking in, out, and around her aching, hot pussy. The idea of those generous, hard breasts hitting against her own, and of that tongue, flavored with her own juices, thrusting itself into her mouth made her spread her legs and arch her back. With throbbing energy, she knew she was close to the edge.

At this point, the women on film moved to a cubicle with one bent over the toilet while the other licked her ass and wet pussy from behind. Marianne liked this scene, but she knew that if she came, she wanted men and hard cocks in view.

Halting the movie, she flicked back past group sex, past more women on women scenes, to the scene she wanted to push her over the brink.

Two firefighters had helped two different women, and they'd been invited back later in the evening to receive a special kind of thank you. When the men arrived expecting a date, Mae Lin and Anna were dressed in sexy clothes, ready to keep them at home with corny lines like needing to see their hose. The firemen gladly removed their shirts on invitation, revealing broad, muscled chests and tight, rippled bellies. One followed Mae Lin into the hot tub, while the other sat with Anna on the couch. After exhausting all possible angles and positions in the hot tub, Mae Lin and her fireman snuck out, water dripping from their bodies, to join the pair on the couch.

For Marianne, it started to get interesting, so here she sat back and spread her legs again. The cheesy guitar music told her hot sex would soon arrive; her pussy told her she'd soon come.

Muscles rolling beneath his tight, tanned skin, one fireman took Mae Lin from behind, a position that allowed them both to watch the other couple. On the couch, the sexy blond man perched Anna over his huge cock, slowly easing her slick hole down his shaft. They both released moans as his cock entered her, and then she used her legs to bounce up and down on his pulsing meat. She thrust her shoulders and head back, and he put his large hands around her and pulled hard on her extended nipples to add to her pleasure.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he said in his deep, lust-filled voice. That cock, those hands, were almost more than Marianne could bear.

Inching their way closer, Mae Lin and her partner never once lost the pumping rhythm they had working for both of them. Mae Lin on her knees latched her mouth over Anna's clit, bouncing up and down on that delicious cock. Anna stopped the vigorous motion, braking to a slow tempo, so that Mae Lin could lick her clit carefully while the hot shaft filled her no-doubt aching hole. Those hands were hard at work on her breasts, that scrumptious cock busy on her insides; the hot, wet tongue was lapping at her clit, and the sexy man kissed her back. Marianne could only imagine such pleasure.