Chapter 11

Joe awoke to a door knock. The guy must have been gay not reacting to Moe looking sexy in a familiar robe. He placed the covered dishes on a table. He thanked her for signing what must have been a substantial tip added to the bill.

When he left, Joe asked, “Where’s Nigella?”

“Shower.”

He heard it. “Of course. Sorry about last night.”

She shrugged. “Did you have fun?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that to the woman I love.”

“The truth?”

“It was fun. And educational for Eddie. Hopefully.”

Silence.

“Moira?”

She sniffled. He stood and embraced her, opening her robe to make it naked. “I’m so stupid. I thought...”

“What did you think?”

“That Eddie needed instructions so Cheryl would be less needy.”

“And stop directing her sexy ass at you.”

He laughed, unfortunately.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” she stiffened, but still held him.

“I ... fucked her ass.”

“Do you like fucking asses?”

“Only if the woman wants it.”

“If I don’t?”

“Then I don’t. I definitely prefer pussy. Especially yours.”

“I tried it with Sheldon. Not my favorite thing.”

“Not mine either, to tell you the truth. I prefer being inside somewhere meant for fucking. That actually naturally paves the way for it.”

“Yeah. That sounds like you,” she chuckled. A sound he loved, particularly then. “Let’s eat.”

She’d gotten him eggs benedict. Vegetable omelet for her. She slid them together in front of him and sat on his lap. Slowly. Aiming what may have been a piss hard on but became all about her into a surprisingly damp pussy. “You don’t think you do for me what I do for you?” she asked when he felt her readiness.

“If I didn’t, I do now,” he chuckled.

“Mmm,” she responded.

They each drank their orange juice, fresh squeezed, before kissing. So morning breath wouldn’t be an issue. It might have been awkward, her having to lean her head back for the kiss, but it felt perfect. They ate while they fucked. Really just tightening and loosening inside. Sometimes he caressed her nipples or strummed her clit. Sometimes she’d reach down and bounce his balls. Sustaining a wonderful plateau of pleasure.

Both of them grinned at Nigella when she joined them. She found another robe. She chuckled and shook her head.

Joe and Moe hadn’t quite finished their meal when things progressed beyond their easy fuck. Moe leaned over. Joe managed to push the chair back. But her bouncing on him wasn’t enough. “Fuck it,” she moaned and crawled onto the table. Somehow he kept inside her, standing. Plates got pushed aside but didn’t fall. He rammed into her, fingers molesting nipples and clit. Minutes later she came, shouting his name. “Keep going,” she managed to say. “Cum in me!”

He did and he did. When he pulled out and collapsed on the chair, Nigella took his place between her thighs. Slurping up the combined spend. Her fingers remaining busy fingering her cunt. “Nige?” Moe moaned.

“Condom,” their mocha skinned lover murmured between tonguing.

He found them in her purse. It took a couple minutes rubbing his penis to get it hard again. At least hard enough to cover it safely. He hardened further rubbing against her pussy, spreading her wetness. “Just fuck me,” she said when he eased in. He remembered her tight opening and the wider space beyond it. Caution lessened because of it. Still a lively place. Still contacting his cock. Moe brought her pussy over Nigella’s face, facing away from Joe.

Nigella wanted it hard and she got it. Exhausting. But exhilarating. She came once and he fucked through it. She paused to shake and moan before returning to sucking Moe’s cunt. Her fingers returned to strumming her clit and pulling on her nipples. He just held that tight round ass. An incredible sight, made more seeing his cock sliding in and out below it. He let his senses take him. The sights and sounds and smells and feelings of flesh against flesh. Getting sensitive enough to cum. So when she tightened and undulated, vocalizing her release in a rising squeal, a final quick flurry of thrusts stopped, and he let her pulsing, shimmering interior milk him of what little ejaculate he had left. It almost hurt, but that only made it more intense.

“Shit,” she said afterwards. “I need another shower.”

“Us first,” Moe chuckled.

“And I need to piss something fierce,” he said.

He stopped Moe from following him into the bathroom. “Uhm, I need more than pissing,” he explained.

“You need to shit?”

“Yep.”

“Well then, say it,” she smirked, closing the door on his face.

He laughed while he shat and pissed. She joined him in the shower. “You good?” he asked her.

“I am,” she smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. “You?”

“Never better. And I promise I’m all yours.”

“You better be. And if Cheryl’s needy, Joe, I’ll kick her ass if she looks to you for relief.”

“Better you than me.”

“You got that right. You ever hit me, it’s over.”

“I’ll never hit you or any woman,” he promised.

“You better not.”

“Did Shelly... ?”

“He wouldn’t dare. I’d definitely kick his ass. But you Joe.”

“Me? I’m just a tall drink of water.”

“You’re tougher than you think you are. And stronger,” she caressed the taut lean muscles of his chest. Joanne seemed to like them. Maybe Moe did too. But it’s not like he developed his body on purpose. Years of biking and flinging newspapers. And swimming. His broadish shoulders might have made him a competitive swimmer if the school had a team, or if he had been interested. And sometimes running with Harriet. Or helping to build sets. Or carrying around his bass and the amp. He did have some strength.

“I’ll remember that.”

She nodded and pulled him down for a kiss.

They took their time getting out of the hotel, enough to be minutes away from the time printed on the door told them they had to leave when Cheryl knocked.

“Where’s Eddie?” he asked her.

“Settling the bill. He said to meet us in the lobby.”

She looked satisfied. “Good,” Joe thought. “How’s the butt,” he had to ask her.

“Better,” she blushed. “We had a nice bath like you suggested.”

“We?”

“Yeah. It was nice. And Joe. Thanks. I mean about Eddie.”

“Just some suggestions.”

“He learned. Some. But ... the idea of listening to me. He’s actually really into that. Likes me bossy,” she giggled.

“Yeah,” he said, wondering why he didn’t tell her that. Maybe he didn’t think of Eddie’s submissiveness in terms of sex. But it made sense. The others, like Sam and Joanne, who could lead him around in other ways probably didn’t take enough control in the boudoir. Worried about losing his affection or pointing out his faults. The fragility of the male ego regarding sex. Of course Joanne was as submissive as Eddie. But Cheryl was different. She didn’t love Eddie. She didn’t worry about losing him. That made her stronger. And ironically more effective as a sex partner.

Those thoughts led Joe to think about her relationship with him. How their intellectual and creative intimacy made her worry. Not about losing him, but getting too interested in him. Falling in love. Breaking her heart. Fearing the physical intimacy would match the intellectual one. To the point of keeping it distant. Having another woman run interference from too direct affection. Joanne. Moe. Then pawning her off on Eddie when Moe didn’t pan out. At first worried about the meanness or coldness of it, especially knowing of Eddie’s problems and hers being a potentially disastrous combination, it ended up being a perfect solution for all of them. That made Joe smile.

“What?” asked Moe, sitting beside him while he drove her dad’s fancy Cadillac. He’d been lost in contemplation about Cheryl’s situation.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing,” she frowned.

“Not here,” he murmured, glancing at his mirror, seeing Eddie sitting between Cheryl and Nigella in the back seat, a lively conversation ensuing.

She got delightfully close. “About Eddie?”

“Yes.”

“And... ?”

“Cheryl,” he whispered.

“Yeah. That seemed to work out. She doesn’t even give me the evil eye anymore.”

“Yeah,” he replied smugly.

“Cocky asshole,” she chuckled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Despite ridiculously heavy traffic, they made it to Stony Brook in plenty of time. Enough to tour the campus and even visit the administration building which contained course catalogs and prices. Being a state school, it was relatively cheap, especially if residency has been established. It caught his interest. “I’d rather you were in Manhattan,” the love of his life insisted. “You should visit Hunter on Monday.” That he promised he would made her happy.

When they found the student run radio station, the package Joanne sent was opened. Joe handed the man who let them in the single and the live tape. He ended up being the engineer for the station, and set Eddie and Nigella up in the studio, far less homemade than the one in Woodstock, though nothing fancy. Rudimentary.

What was most different was the instruments. “Someone else playing?” Joe asked.

“My band’s,” said Craig, the smiling blond student. “Your friend Joanne told us she wished you guys could have the full effect, and I suggested it.”

“They just left them?” Cheryl asked.

“They went out.”

“Can’t smoke in here?” Eddie smirked, pulling out a fat joint.

“Not supposed to,” Craig chuckled. “Mostly it’s nicer outside.”

“So you’re not saying no,” Eddie noticed.

“Maybe the toilet?” Craig suggested.

“Show us,” Eddie requested.

“Uhm Eddie,” Joe asked. “How do you want to do this?”

“I play guitar,” said Nigella.

“Of course,” Joe grinned. “And we have our drummer.”

Moe sat at the generic looking set of drums, including a cymbal and a high hat and began exploring them. She smiled and nodded, which Joe took for agreement. “You guys go ahead,” she said. “I think I’ll need a sober head.”

Craig guided them to a surprisingly large men’s toilet. The advantage of the radio station being attached to the campus theater. “We broadcast concerts and speeches and symposia,” he explained.

“Nice,” Joe said.

Craig didn’t join in smoking, though he did stay. “I too need to keep my head,” he told them.

“What do you play?” Joe asked him.

“Keyboards. We’re kind of an art rock group. Most of us are from the music department, so I guess we have a pretty sophisticated knowledge of music. And play an eclectic array of instruments. Oboe. Cello. Sousaphone. Pretty composed sometimes. Even chorale charts. And sometimes we just let loose and totally improvise. You guys ever heard of Fred Frith and Derek Bailey?”

None of them had. Not even Cheryl, the intrepid journalist. He didn’t seem surprised.

“Your instruments looked pretty conventional,” Joe commented.

“I guess it all begins with those. We are still a rock group I guess. Kind of build off of that. And you should know, however sophisticated we might be, we’re all fans of the Monsters.”

“So Joanne sent you the tape?” Joe asked.

“Both tapes,” Craig smiled. “And the single. All are in pretty heavy rotation already for a freeform college station.”

“Cool,” said Eddie.

“Already?” Joe asked. “When did they arrive?”

“This morning,” said Craig. “Both tapes got played, and the single a couple times. Both sides.”

“Really?” said Eddie.

“We think you’re brilliant Eddie.”

“Of course I am,” he replied, polishing his knuckle against his chest like an apple. They laughed.

Joe didn’t know if Eddie believed it even then. He could see Eddie’s surprise. But Eddie’s ego might have inflated an inch or two.

When they got back to the studio, a small crowd had arrived. More than Craig’s group. The Monsters, or its momentary version, didn’t bother being introduced, getting ready instead. Joe leaned over the tom tom and asked if Moe was sure.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I know the songs, and if Eddie only expects a basic beat...”

“Okay,” he smiled. She didn’t seem worried. More excited to play the drums again.

Making him less worried, Nigella told him, “We’ve jammed to them.”

A cute, petite, shy blonde girl approached Eddie. “I brought my cello,” she said. “It’s not a viola, but...”

“Why not,” Eddie grinned. “We’ll start with a couple songs Belle plays on.”

“Thanks,” she grinned.

“You can thank me later,” Eddie winked. She blushed. Joe saw Cheryl approach her, whispering, and the blush got more pronounced and her eyes widened.

Belle played on both songs on the single, so they started with them. Not surprising that Nigella played her part on guitar as well as she did.

If Eddie had been interviewed before they started playing he would have been nervous. But after the first song went well, even Moe managing to stay pretty much on beat, he was in the zone.

After the DJ had Eddie introduce the band, Mary having to shyly give her name, Eddie joked, “This is the east coast version of the Monsters. Got that West Side Highway pile up kind of jive. Only Hollywood stars on the west coast, with grid lock.”

“What about where you’re from?” asked the DJ.

“All placid. It’s the land of ten thousand lakes after all.”

“Doesn’t sound all that placid to me.”

“Well, you got to fight against that, don’t you? Especially when it gets all frozen inches deep. Got to keep fighting to keep from freezing, you know?”