You know, I could have gone on forever just reading and commenting on this site. It brings me tremendous joy. But, just a week ago, FT, showing all the symptoms associated with severe cake withdrawl, put a gun to my head and sweetly suggested it might be time I tossed something out for the teeming masses.

And knowing that getting started is a writers biggest roadblock she was generous enough to write the first few words for me - 

 "Once upon a time there was this super fab pink haired goddess...

Well I did write THAT story and it now lies in a locked box way back on my shelf closet, hiddenly securely away from young, uncorrupted minds.

I'm sorry to say that piece was simply too hawt for OS

So...I'm offering this bit of semi-smutty dreck up instead and please be kind, I really sort of worked on it.

Dedicated to LnL, who's extraordinary kindness muted me completely.

Based loosely on last Fridays dream:

Time:

Summer of 1996 as near as I can figure. And don't hold me to this but I'm fairly certain it was a Saturday afternoon. Let's say two-ish.

The phone rings.

It's my ex-wife Kathy calling, sounding a little distressed. I offer a wary 'hello' and a half sincere 'what's up?'

She gets right to the point.

"Angus, there's been nothing but silence between us since the split" she says, "It's not healthy for our son.  We need to talk this out. NOW!.  Come pick me up."

I'm about to agree to her offer, when the dialtone informs me that she's already hung up.

(Meet Kathy, everyone.)

And I, of course, instantly revert to relationship mode - I grab the keys and head out the door.

I'm heading down to her Mom's house where Kathy kept a cozy basement apartment for a couple of post-marriage years.

Just after I pull up, I blow the horn, even though I see her walking up the path towards me. I do this because I notice that her Mom is in the upstairs window, glowering down at me and looking quite peeved.  So, I honk again, really leaning on it this time  and wave towards that window til she shoots me a look of sheer disgust and closes the curtains in a clearly agitated state.

I smile.

Already this trip was worth it.

Kathy opens the door and slides into her seat. We've not travelled more than 100 yards when she tears into her purse. "Jesus, I need a cigarette!"  she declares as she pulls out an unopened pack and in her harried state fumbles with the little plastic pull tab. After what seems like five minutes, she finally succeeds and pulls out a cigarette and lights it. There is an audible intake of air and a delayed, satisfying, release of smoke.

Perhaps a minute passes, Kathy dragging deeply and repeatedly.  I incorrectly assume a new measure of calmness in her and decide to initiate conversation.

"So, how's your mother these days ?"

"What the fuck do you care?"

I pause.  I'm feeling a little anxious myself now. I ask for a cigarette. She hands me the half-smoked, lipstick stained one she's holding and lights another for herself.

I'm slightly aroused by this.

Another few minutes of silence til I stop at a red light. "So, where do we do this?" I ask as I notice a coffee shop just up the road a bit. "Tim Hortons?"

She casts a sardonic smile at me and says "No, Barb is expecting us. But I expect you can get a coffee there, IF she's forgiven you."

IF indeed. On the night of our split, the last time I saw her, I had some rather unkind words for Barb, who was and is Kathy's best friend. She was Maid of Honor at our wedding, Godmother to our son and had a recurring role in all of my best dreams. Yet my last words to this gorgeous woman as she walked out the door with my son in her arms were. "Barb, you skanky slut, If my kid catches a fucking disease from you, I'll hunt you down and kill you!"

And this is not paraphrasing. This is not an approximation. This is the word for word truth of what I said to this sweet woman.

Kathy directs me up a few roads and down a couple of others until she finally taps my shoulder and says "Turn in here."

Suddenly I find myself heading up a long, long circular driveway towards a spectacularly large mansion. "So Hef is Ok with us being here?" I ask.  "We're on the guest list?"

"It's Barb's house, you dipshit", Kathy snarls. (The little Hef joke apparently lost on her)  "SHE married a dentist. He PROVIDES"

I nod my head. Barb did well.

 I park the car in one of the three spaces marked 'Visitors'. We get out and head towards the giant front door of the house.

"Oh yeah,  try not to act like some sort of spastic rube and point at stuff and ask how much it cost", she says.

"I promise I'll only ask about that thar giant golden doorknob" I reply, using my best Jethro Bodine voice  "wonder if he'd accept mah car for it in a trade"

With this she slaps the back of my head.

Just then we hear a shout coming from the side of the house "We're back here by the pool!" It's Barb's voice. We climb down from the front steps and head for the corner of the house and then move towards the sound of splashing. Kathy is a few yards ahead of me because she's now  walking quickly, using that  runway model type method- you know - that exaggerated style where the knee rises dramatically and then the feet cross over each other with each step.

An admirable performance. It's mesmerizing to watch her hips sway like that. I'm on the verge of some sort of hypnotic state. But just then she turns and gives me a most nasty look. "Move it for fucks sake" she hisses, and the spell is broken.

And then we're approachingthe pool, which surprisingly, is at best, functional.  It's rectangular in shape.  I'm guessing maybe 40 feet long - 30 feet wide. There are no diving boards or fountains or cherubs peeing off a pedestal. Just a couple of reclining lounge chairs lying on either side.

I'm tempted to whisper in Kathy's ear "This place is a dump!" but though I KNOW that this would be a hysterical thing to say I wisely hold my tongue instead. 

A few more steps and we see them.

I'll describe the dentist first. Let' see. Mid-fifties, pudgy, bald, except somehow sporting a respectable ponytail that I assume he's fashioned by cultivating several persistent neck and/or back hairs. He's also wearing narrow green tinted sunglasses.

Are you thinking of a  follically challenged Penn Jillette?

No?

I was.

 And now Barb is squealing and climbing out of the pool. All tanned and  blond and dripping wet, she runs toward us. I notice that she's wearing ruby colored, high heeled shoes.  But then she was always unconventional like that. Plus, it's uncanny how many of the women who populate my dreams wear exotic footwear -  they're almost standard issue attire here.

Her nipples (That's once) are protruding through the thin fabric of her wet, yellow bikini top like bullets. She has very smallish firm breasts and I suddenly have the urge to push my face between them and quack like a duck gone mad.

I resist this urge. 

About the bikini bottom?  Well there's a small triangle of wet fabric that covered her sex about as well as a sheet of gold tinted saran wrap.

"Oh Barb, you look great!", Kathy exclaims as she embraces her and I, feeling a need to express a similar sentiment - but the word 'great' already taken, blurt "Barb, you look scrumptious"

Shit, did I actually say scrumptious?  Barb, turns from Kathy and gives me a more formal hug and says " Oh Angus, you're so funny and sweet"

I glance at Kathy who is staring daggers at me.

Scrumptious?  Fuck.

They make some small talk and I remember to turn and wave to the dentist and say "Nice to meet you." He nods and echos my greeting back to me.

Barb then walks back to a small table and returns with two glasses and a bottle. "Champagne, anyone?" she asks as she passes us each a glass and then begins to pour.

And then she says something that just about buckles my knees. "Dale and I were talking just now about maybe having a small swinging and swapping party." She looks at Kathy and asks, "Are you up for it?"

Kathy replies. "That sounds like fun", and then flashes me that sardonic smile again before adding "but my partner isn't here yet."

Well......ouch.

Now, of course, this is an absolutely ball crushing thing to hear - except...

Except that just after Kathy spoke, my eyes met Barbs for a brief instance and I'm certain I detected a slight but distinct measure of disappointment.

Christ, what MY eyes must have revealed to HER!

Now, there's an almost deafening engine roar assaulting our ears from the front of the  house.  (I'm not sure how to set loud motorcycle sounds down in type. Is BRRRRRRNNN, BRRRRRRNN ok?) Then there is silence. A few seconds later, a tall chubby guy, wearing a helmet and totally encased in black leather approaches.

Leather boots, leather pants, leather coat, leather gloves. Add a full red beard, large dark sunglasses and a walrus mustache and the only bit of skin visible on his entire body is a splotchy, sunburned nose. He stops and nods at us. Kathy walks over and gives him a brief kiss - where on his face, I have no idea.

She then whispers for some length into the part of his head where an ear should be and immediately he ambles over to the other side of the pool and falls into a chair. I will not see him move again that afternoon.

But elsewhere the action is picking up. Kathy leaves us and walks down toward the narrow end of the pool and takes a blanket from a chair and spreads it out flat on a patch of grass.

Barb heads the other way towards the comatose biker.

The dentist climbs up out of the pool naked and walks quickly past me heading towards Kathy, and I take some measure of satisfaction after glimpsing his genitalia. I mean, he's not exactly swinging pipe here. And yes, i know pal - you were in the pool

YOU WERE IN THE POOL!!!

Kathy is removing her dress now and is instantly stark naked. There are no undergarments. Then somehow she produces a hanger out of nowhere,  drapes her dress carefully over it, walks to the nearby wire fence and hangs it on some sort of peg. She fusses over it a bit, smoothing the hem and brushing something off it's shoulders before returning to the blanket, where the dentist has just arrived.

Things appear to be a little awkward between them. I see Kathy's lips move and then stop. He nods and then Kathy says something else. He still makes no oral response.

I expect he's a little confused about how to get things started here. 

I expect he's thinking that sooner or later Kathy will take the initiative. 

I expect he'll soon realize that this session will be going NOWHERE if he continues to wait for this.

The uneasiness continues and I notice that they are no longer looking at each other but are now gazing across the pool in Barbs direction.

My god!  I'd forgotten about Barb!  I turn my head 90 degrees, and discover there's been a costume change. She's now wearing white high heels, an ultra short white skirt, a white open blouse that doesn't quite reach  her navel and a white nurses hat. The ensemble is wonderfully completed with a stethoscope  hanging down from her neck.

She struts slowly around the reclining biker, then stops and strikes a pose, facing away from me, bent over, both hands on knees.

There are no panties.

Maintaining this position, she turns her head toward me and  gives  me a dazzling smile and an exaggerated wink. And I now know that this entire show is for me.

Having apparently lost all of my senses, I mouth the words "I love you" across the pool to her and she then straightens up and looks quizzically at me for a moment before mouthing the words "I know" back.  She then smiles at me once more and continues her performance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I'm aware of movement at the other end of the pool. They're both on their knees facing each other. The dentist with wide open mouth and a seriously long, distended, wiggling tongue is  moving in for a kiss from Kathy's closed pinched mouth. Involuntarily, I look away in disgust. Yuck.

Meanwhile Barb, is just standing there at the bikers side, apparently waiting for my eyes to return. Having won back her audience, she resumes the show. She juts out her left hip while placing her right hand on the other. Then with her left hand she retrieves a small object from her breast pocket and holds it up for me to see.

It's a thermometer.

Still looking at me and now sporting a most lascivious smile she brings the thermometer down and tucks it up under her skirt, entirely out of view. Her hips then make exaggerated gyrations for just a few seconds. Now she's holding up the thermometer and leaning over the biker. She looks at me, puts an index finger, signifying ssshh in front of her mouth and  places the instrument past his lips and leaves it there.

(Authors disclaimer:  The above paragraph has been taken out and reinserted at least ten times over the last few days. I know it's not integral to  the plot, but when I remove it and read it through, the story suffers, I think. I mean, sure it's smutty, but I did show restraint. It's not like I described the withdrawn thermometer as glistening or gooey, right?  So, just deal with it.)

Anyway...

Sudddenly, I'm aware of noises coming from the other end of the pool, I turn and sweet Jesus! Ladies and gentlemen, it's official. They have achieved coitus. They decided to go missionary style. How about that?

Is anyone surprised by this? 

Were there any of you anticipating a position stolen from, say, page 147 of the Kama Sutra?

I didn't think so.

The dentist is wheezing every time he lifts his hefty frame and grunting each time he succumbs to some Newtonian law and falls back upon her. All I can see of Kathy is an outstretched and flailing  right arm and right leg. She makes an oooff sound with every thrust.

Passion? Maybe,  but hell, if that was me under there  with 300 lbs of horny dentist collapsing on me every two seconds, I expect I'd be oooffing my ass off too, and that's WITHOUT penetration!

I watch this for a few more seconds before realizing that the repetitive nature of this event is not likely to change one iota for the next while. The only thing that's in the least surprising here is my reaction or non-reaction, to this mundane and feeble coupling. I appear to be fine with it.

With a shrug, I turn back to the main event and Barb, taking her cue once again begins strutting around the likely dead biker, this time twirling the stethoscope at her side. She  stops and inserts the ear pieces and then lays the listening device on the guys chest. Slowly she draws it downward, leaving his chest, going up and over his formidable belly before stopping directly on his crotch. Now she's moving it around and around in slow circular motions and then finally stops, straightens up and looks towards me. She then makes this adorable, exaggerated pouty face while holding her thumb and index finger up to me.

They're a tad more than one inch apart.

This causes an unintentional "HAW!" to burst from my lips.

Nervously, I look to see if my sudden outburst has garnered anyones attention and am surprised  to see that the humping couple have finished up.

Or maybe he's just resting.

But then the air is split by a piercing, thunderous scream "Will you get the fuck off me?!"

So much for my resting theory.  Apparently he's done.

The dentist obediently rolls off her, and with great effort, struggles to his feet and waddles quickly away, disappearing around the side of the house. I won't see him again.

I turn once more in Barbs direction. She's just standing there now, no longer smiling. Instead she has an apprehensive, almost frightened expression and as I turn, having heard the sound of slapping feet approaching, I understand why.

Kathy, now wrapped in a towel, is stomping furiously toward me.

She explodes at me as she halts just a few feet away. "You think i didn't see you, you fucking jerk?!"  She bends down, all in my face and screams "You asshole!  You sick prick!" I can feel a cascade of spittle hit my face.  This is as angry as she gets.

And then it gets weird.

Remember that dog Barkley on Sesame Street?  The one that mauled and devoured Mr Hooper?  Well, suddenly, he clambers out of the pool right in front of me, trots over to Kathy and begins to shake what must be buckets of water from his long fur. Kathy emits a piercing shriek just as Barkley rears up and places both huge paws on her shoulders causing Kathy to take one step back. She then lunges forward delivering a resounding round-house right hook to the unsuspecting dogs jaw. She then storms off into the house.

And she must have delivered quite a blow to poor Barkley, because he sort of caves in on himself like a furry, deflated sex doll and wafts leaf like to the ground. And he's lying there as dead as a doornail, all fur and bones, when incredibly, out of his mouth, there emerges what appears to be a greenish garden slug with four legs and a tail. It starts scurrying over Barkley's remains, yipping incessantly.

The tiny creature then changes course and gets dangerously close to the pool. Instinctively, I fall to my knees and scoop it up with two cupped hands.  Barb is now walking hurriedly toward me. Her demeanor is surprisingly calm. She stoops and picks up the giant dog suit and kneels beside me.

"It came out of the pool...Kathy punched...this thing came out!",  I sputter as I hold my cupped hands out to her.

Barb takes the little creature from my hands, turns, and begins to insert the thing back inside the mouth part of the big fur heap. "It's okay Angus" she says. "This happens all the time. There's no reason to get excited."

As she delivers this last sentence, I'm suddenly aware that her shapely, pantiless  posterior is mere inches from my face. 

No reason to get excited ? As if I'm in any position to control this.

And then in a matter of seconds, a shadow fell upon that sweet caboose. A foreboding shadow. An ominous shadow.

I know without turning who's back there and only out of nervous habit, I swear, I lick my dry lips - which from her vantage point held a whole other meaning.

"Enjoying the view, I see. Would you like me to run and fetch you a camera?"  she asks in a quiet, chilling, sinister voice as Barb and the now full sized Barkley arise and scurry away.

I decide it's time to take a stand.

"You called me today, so that I could watch you get laid and you have the gall to confront me now?" I demand.

This just incites her rage.

"No, you twisted fuck!" she declares with sarcasm dripping from her mouth. "I wanted you to drool like a pervert while my best friend, since grade school performed a strip tease. Do you have ANY idea how this makes me look?!"

Then  she asks with a quiet trembling voice. "Do you even care?"

She starts to sob and tear up.

And I swear, I'm this close to apologizing and begging forgiveness before I come to my senses.

A coldness comes over me.

"I'm going home", I say.

"Give me a few minutes to shower", she responds.

I look at her and shake my head, before smiling and saying "No, but we must do this again sometime."

I turn from her and walk away around the corner and down the side of the house as my ears are assaulted by screams of "You fucking pervert! You sick fuck!"