Chapter 10: House of Cards

Luke walked across the street from Markowitz's office to his room lost in thought. Shit! I had no idea! I hope he's not pissed at me now. Maybe I should have said yes. But no, he seemed to be cool with me not wanting to go there. Damn, I wish he hadn't asked me that!

He went into the kitchen and cooked a packet of Ramen noodles for a snack, then he carried the bowl up to his room and sat on his bed hoping his turndown wasn't going to come back on him in a bad way. But Markowitz seemed like a class dude; surely he wouldn't act like the jilted lover. At any rate, all Luke could do now was to wait and see what happened next.

He drank down the last of the chicken broth and headed to the library to talk to Jennette about keeping quiet about his stories. He hoped she hadn't already spread it around among her friends.

She was standing at the desk when he walked in, and she smiled when she looked up and saw him. He took that for a good sign that she wasn't still pissed that he pretty much hung up on her.

"Hey, Luke, what's up? Something I can do for you today?"

"Um, just a favor, if you don't mind."

"What is it?"

"Well, I've been thinking, and I'd rather any word about the stories I've been writing didn't get around. I'm pretty sure a lot of people in this town wouldn't approve."

Jennette kind of rolled her eyes and said, "Darn, Luke, I sure wish you'd said something earlier. I've already texted the site and your pen name to at least a half a dozen people. So far, they all love the stories. Why the concern?"

"Oh, it's just something someone said. I'm afraid older folks will see it as porn, and I sure don't need that kind of rep on my shoulders. Especially now that things seem to going pretty well for me around here."

"Really, Luke, I wouldn't worry about it. But if you want, I'll let everybody know they should keep it quiet. I can't say what C.J. might have done though. You probably ought to talk to her, because she thinks you're gonna be famous some day. She's probably already bragging that she's a close personal friend."

"Shit, you think?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. If you want, I'll call her and ask her to squash it."

"Would you? I'd sure appreciate it."

"No problem. Hey, you wanna come over for dinner and some TV tonight?"

Another surprise.

"I thought I was too young for you. And anyhow, wouldn't your new boyfriend object?"

She shrugged and sighed, "That didn't work out too well. Seems the boyfriend is in a more permanent relationship - like a marriage."

"Wow! Too bad about that! But you know what? I think I'll pass on your invitation because I've got a book I want to get into tonight. But thanks anyway."

He turned to head for the door, but she reached across the counter and held his arm. "Luke, I'm sorry for what I said before. I must have come across like a real bitch."

"Look, Jennette, here's what I think about it: We had some good times and some great sex, okay? I thought we had something over and above that, but I was wrong. My bad. What I'm not interested in is being a toy you can toss into the box when you're tired of me, then dig me out again whenever you're in the mood. Maybe I'm just a big weenie, but I'm afraid my feelings are a little too tender to tolerate that kind of abuse. See you around."

As soon as he was out the door, he knew he'd need to talk to C.J. personally about sitting on his stories. The look on Jennette's face when he walked away from her said she probably wasn't all that interested in doing him any favors.

An hour later, he knocked on the door.

"Just a minute!" C.J. yelled from inside.

When she popped the door open, she was wearing a towel wrapped around her wet body. It barely contained her boobs.

"Oh, jeez, C.J.! I'm sorry I caught you in the shower!"

"Not a problem, bro, I was just getting out. You here for business or pleasure?"

"Jennette might have already called you. I just came by to ask you for a favor. I'd rather people didn't know about me and the stories I put on that web page. I've already been given a heads-up that it could be a problem if the wrong people hear about it."

The look on her face told him he was too late. "No, she didn't call me. You better come in, Luke."

He stepped in the door and followed her into the living room. "Care for a soda or a beer?" she asked heading into the kitchen.

"No thanks. Well, yeah, a beer sounds good."

"Comin' right up. The thing is, Luke, I've already told quite a few people about you. You probably don't know it, but you're becoming a bit of a celebrity among the younger folk here in town. At least your rep is. I'm surprised you haven't been invited to a dozen parties by now."

"Nope, not a one. Anyhow, don't feel bad about outing me; I just hoped to contain it, if I could. If shit happens, it happens."

C.J. handed him the beer and plopped down next to him on the couch. "Have you spoken to Jen-Jen yet?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago at the library. No luck there either."

She giggled and asked, "Did she tell you about her married boyfriend?"

"Yeah, she did. Then she invited me over for dinner and some TV. I'm afraid I had to turn her down. I don't enjoy being played with like a yo-yo."

"Good for you! I told her she was being a class-A bitch for the way she treated you. Of course, you know you're welcome here any time she's not at home. I still get the hots for your bod."

Luke leaned against her shoulder. "I know you're joking, but thanks for the thought."

She took his beer out of his hand, took a sip of it and put it on the coffee table. "Who says I'm joking? There's nothing I enjoy more that a good fuck, and you've got the skill, the energy and the tool. I'm too much into females to be any guy's permanent squeeze, but a real live eight-inch dildo attached to a nice person is always welcome. How are you fixed for time this afternoon?"

The look in her eye and her hand on his crotch told him she wasn't joking.

"I, uh, I've got lots of time, but wouldn't that throw a monkey wrench into your relationship with your roommate? I don't want to be a battle line."

C.J. squeezed his growing dick. "Why don't you let me worry about that? Anyhow, she won't be home for another two hours yet. I think we can satisfy each other's libidos by that time, don't you?"

She didn't wait for his answer. She slipped to the floor, leaving her towel behind. She pushed the coffee table back and positioned herself between his knees, edging right up next to the couch and placing his hands on her tits. Then she went to work unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

"Raise you bottom!"

He did as she asked. She pulled his jeans and underwear down to just below his butt, enough that his dick was standing tall and proud in front of her.

"Oh, yeah," she cooed, "I've been missing this guy." She leaned forward and took the glans into her mouth, rubbing her tongue along the underside, then poking at the slit with the tip. With one hand cupping his balls and the other sliding up and down his shaft, C.J. quickly had him breathing heavy. When he began humping his hips upward, she caught the cue and stopped.

"Follow me, Mr. Marquette!" She urged him up off the couch and pulled him along behind her to her bedroom as he tried to hold up his jeans. They'd never used her bed before, only Jen-Jen's. C.J.'s bed was a queen, but not much of it was visible under the heaping pile of throw pillows and stuffed toys. She quickly cleared a space for them and pushed him down on his back. It took her less than a minute to strip him of his boots, sock, jeans and tighty-whities.

Crawling onto the bed to kneel beside him, she asked, "Feel up to a little pussy juice for an afternoon snack?"

Luke slid his hand up the inside of her leg and tickled her wet, engorged labia. "Absolutely! It's gotta be healthier than a candy bar. Assume the position, girl!"

She threw her leg across his head and lowered her sex to his face. "Oh shit yeah! Lick me raw with that talented tongue, dude!"

They spent a good hour giving each other as much as they could handle, first orally, then with a good old-fashioned missionary fuck. Nothing fancy, just good sex. They finished with a quick shower to rinse off the sweat and bodily fluids.

At the front door, she patted his butt and said, "I'll try to get the word out about keeping your stories quiet, but I doubt it'll do much good."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Oh well, I tried. Anyhow, thanks for a fun afternoon."

"It was fun, wasn't it? Feel free to call me for a play date any time. I don't know what Jen-Jen's problem is, but with me there's no baggage 'cause I'm happy with just the sex part."

"Yeah, thanks for the invite. See ya."

Luke ran into Markowitz two or three times a day, every day, and the doctor never acted like anything was different between them. He remained friendly and helpful, always greeting Luke with a smile and a pat on the shoulder. It was a big relief, knowing he wasn't on the good doctor's bad side.

Now that he'd made up his mind to pursue writing seriously, he spent most of his evenings sitting at the computer. It wasn't easy to come up with ideas for good stories, but he discovered that once he had an idea, running with it wasn't much of a problem. The stories and characters seemed to take on a life of their own.

He kept a thesaurus near at hand so he could avoid using the same descriptive terms over and over again; something he saw in so many of the other stories on the web site. And the overuse of the past perfect tense, he found irritating.

Sometimes he found himself getting too wordy, stuffing details into the story that didn't really add anything worth reading. He'd go back and strike out whole paragraphs to tighten it up. The short story genre was what he preferred, stories that could be read at bedtime in a half hour to an hour. If his sex scenes could stimulate a little action, either solo or shared, so much the better, because that meant he was doing it right.

Then his writing got a big boost. Errol e-mailed him and offered to proofread his stuff before he posted it. He said he could spot the typos and offer suggestions about different directions the story could go. He had a sharp eye, and he'd pay particular attention to continuity issues.

Of course, Luke took him up on his offer. He wrote back that he was getting close to the end of a story, and he'd send it along in a couple of days.

Sometimes he wondered why Errol was so nice to him, why he went out of his way to encourage Luke's new lifestyle, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever his motivation, Errol was a true friend and mentor. The only thing Luke regretted was that he hadn't lifted his shirt to be inspected for weapons when they first met at the rest stop. But then, he'd have probably just been driven to some point and dropped off. It was the beating he took that brought them together as friends. Go figure!

A couple of days later, he wrapped up his latest story, sixty-eight pages, and sent it off to Errol to be edited. When it came back two days later, a dozen typos had been corrected, and it was accompanied by a list of suggestions about character development and how the story could flow more easily. Errol hadn't made a single suggestion that wasn't completely valid, and Luke sat down and rewrote several pages putting them to work. When he was satisfied with the end product, he went online and posted it with a little thank you to his anonymous editor for his suggestions.

The story was a hit, racking up over six thousand downloads the first day. By the time he went to bed, the score stood at 8.16, a new high. Maybe he should start thinking about trying to make some money with his growing skills. But how would he do that?

It was so easy to fall into the habit of spending two or three afternoons a week with C.J. She seemed to be always available and more than willing. Sometimes he wondered how she paid her part of household expenses, since she didn't seem to have a job of any kind. He almost asked her on a couple of occasions, but then thought better of it since it was hardly his business. Maybe she was heir to a fortune or something.

It was getting into November, and Luke's life was becoming a comfortable routine. Because of his hard work and diligence, he'd been given another raise at work, and that meant his savings were growing even faster. At the rate he was going, he figured he'd have enough to buy a decent used car in another three or four months.

Not that he would be using a car all that much. Work was just across the street, most of his evenings were spent writing at his computer, and an afternoon of great sex with C.J. was only a ten-minute walk away. What more could he ask?