Chapter 6

There was nothing remarkable about Phillip’s sex tape. Cassandra Sanders was 34, in good shape, fairly attractive. Brunette with an average build. Phillip, at 52, was in really good shape. A little above average, and certainly more than adequate, equipment.

They did it missionary style, took a shower, sipped a cocktail from the minibar in hotel robes. They she went down on him and they fucked doggy style until she got on top, reverse cowgirl, I believe it’s called. Okay, I know it’s called.

The tape didn’t arouse me, didn’t bother me. It was just another sex tape. Except for Phillip. It is odd to see a man I know and admire, Mindy’s father, Rebecca’s husband, doing the nasty. It’s so ... I don’t know, out of context.

I would start my investigation in Boston. Cassandra Sanders. She wouldn’t like that. Too bad. No, New York first. The scene of the crime.

For the only time in my life, I had, literally, an unlimited expense account. Business Class, I thought. As befits my status -- working for a New York hedge fund. And, perhaps, the federal government.

Walker and I haven’t discussed it, in fact I doubt that he’s thought about it consciously. But we enjoy our evening dinners at home, just the two of us. Vanessa at BEAR’s, Mindy at the shelter.

Not that we don’t love them, we certainly do. It’s just that after Richie left, Walker and I had about ten years on our own. Two pals, sharing everything.

I remember one night, a major blizzard hit KC. Personally, I love blizzards. Of course it helps that Gene Austin has backup generators at the Wrigley. But I could cheerfully go a night or two without electricity just to see the beauty of a deep, deep snowfall.

It was around 11 at night and we had all the lights in our loft turned off. Walker and I watched the thick, heavy snow fall through our Main Street windows. Almost no traffic, then none at all except for the occasional plow. It was dark and the steady snowflakes were so visible in the street lights. We had Vivaldi playing softly.

We were sipping rum toddies and hot chocolate. We shared an occasion sip. Buttery and salty popcorn.

It was warm in the loft, but we snuggled under a down comforter. Just to be together, two pals, no work, no school tomorrow. Then, a little too warm. I took off my jeans and tee. Then, shrugging, my panties. Curled back up with my best boy.

Then we heard tinkly laughter and two girls, in their early 20s, were walking arm in arm on the sidewalk. They’d been drinking. Probably heading for another bar on this silent night. They both wore dark jeans and white parkas with the hoods up.

Suddenly they flopped on their backs, laughing hysterically, making spontaneous snow angels. It wasn’t anything important, but we loved seeing the brief theater. I threw open a window and Walker joined me in standing up and applauding them. They took an ostentatious bow in our direction.

I don’t do it very often these days, not even once a month. But I occasionally come out of my after-work shower wearing only one garment. A robe, one of Peggy’s obscene Tees, one of Richie’s old dress shirts.

It’s not an invitation, not exactly, for Walker to take some liberties. Well, actually, it sort of is. But just to keep him off balance, some evenings I’ll stop his wandering hand before he reaches a boob. Or my butt. Always keep ‘em guessing.

No word on Jin. Not from the police. Not from the pimps, sources, lowlifes, snitches. The mayor’s office gooses the media into running ‘still looking for’ updates. Just to get that image of him out there again.

Richie, my ex who left me for a younger version, asked me to go to Dallas with him for a three-day real estate convention and seminar. I told Vanessa, “I’m tempted.”

She took both my hands in hers and said, “Do it, Winter. Really. I’d feel a lot better if you have a man in your bed.” She grinned, “Not full time.”

I saw the sincerity in her expression. I also saw that classic, Slavic beauty that still blows me away. Cheekbones that a plastic surgeon could only dream of. Vanessa’s face is of a piece. Her kissable lips go with her dark eyes with that hint of gold. Her generous mouth belongs above that strong chin. Her thick black hair is echoed in those impossibly long eyelashes.

I could gaze at her forever. Well, not forever.

Vanessa said, “I’ll tell the kids. Better if it comes from me.”

When I nodded my agreement, that sealed the deal. I was going to Dallas to be fucked by Richie. I would be unfaithful to the woman I loved. My first man in over a year.

Vanessa didn’t put off telling Walker and Mindy. She sat them down at our kitchen table. “Kids, Winter and I are going to have a trial separation.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Let her tell it in her own way.

Walker looked like he might cry. Mindy had her mouth open, very unladylike.

Vanessa put her hand on Walker’s, “It’s only for three days, honeybunch. She’s going to Dallas with your father. It’s just sex.”

Walker still looked off balance. Then Mindy laughed, “It’s that old joke, cat on the roof, isn’t it Vanessa?”

Vanessa laughed too, “Exactly right, Mindy, exactly right.”

Now Walker and I both looked puzzled.

Mindy said, “Businessman is in a hotel. Wife calls, ‘Your cat died. Peaches.’ He says, ‘Jesus Christ, don’t just blurt something like that out. Break it to me gently, lead me into it. Like, ‘Peaches is on the roof.’”

Walker and I still looked blank.

Mindy grinned, enjoying the attention, “Wife calls the next week, ‘Dear, your mother is on the roof.’”

So corny it was funny.

But Walker was still a little edgy. I said, “Vanessa is partly right, it is sex. I want a man. Not instead of Vanessa, but ... just once in a while. But it’s more than sex too. I still love Richie, just like you do.”

Then I regretted saying that last part. Because chances are I’ll want to have sex with a man not named Richie. I don’t know who, but chances are. Oh well, Vanessa and I will deal with it, if and when.

Vanessa said, “Walker, you’re sleeping with Winter tonight.”

He lit up, “Yes ma’am.”

Mindy has a bit of the imp in her, “Winter, Walker can touch the tip of his cock with his tongue. Have him show you.”

I’d forgotten about her autofellatio questions earlier. She hadn’t.

Walker was into deep blush. Red cheeks and the tips of his ears.

That night my beloved son and I brushed our teeth together just as we used to do when it was just the two of us. I took my time pulling on my ‘I Love My Clit’ tee, giving Walker a vista he never seems to tire of.

As he snuggled his back into me, I automatically ran my right palm down his chest, past his flat, little boy tummy, directly to his stirring cock. I masturbated him slowly, lovingly, to climax. Then did it again. It took longer of course, but neither of us minded. He whispered, “Aren’t you going to cum, Winter?”

“Not tonight, just you, babyboy.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Since Walker is 14, Mindy is not a felon when she fucks him because she ]s under 21. In Missouri.

Not the case in Kansas though. When she fucks him in Mission Hills, she’s in statutory rape territory because Walker’s younger than 16. Maybe they could get her for crossing a state line as well. And there’s no Romeo and Juliet exemption in Kansas for two kids who are close in age. Fucking Kansas.