Chapter 24

After Joe and his wives finally got up, enjoyed the large shower together and got dressed, Joe opened the blinds to the studio and saw Cynthia sitting with Rachel with Eddie playing his guitar between them. Joe fetched Cynthia and discovered how stoned she was.

“Uhm, you okay working on the script?” he asked her.

“Uh-hunh,” she giggled.

He shook his head and chuckled. He went to the kitchen where his wives sat and the matron was making waffles. Maria, as she often was, was there as well. She embraced and kissed Joe and whispered “When?”

“Tomorrow? The orgy?”

She blushed and whispered back, “Just us?”

“Monday?”

“The strip joint open?”

“Should be. I’ll check.”

“Shopping,” she nodded and winked and gave him another quick kiss.

Cynthia returned, having fetched a bag with her notes and the treatment. She had breakfast earlier. When the matron plated his waffles, he poured melted butter and syrup on them and grabbed the plate and his mug of coffee and headed out to the backyard with Cynthia.

“Are you going to want to take a break with me?” he asked.

“You mean sex?”

“I do.”

“I’m kind of sore.”

Joe nodded. Eddie and his thick cock. “So you had fun with Rachel and Eddie?”

“Lots,” she giggled.

“Good for you.” Apparently Eddie had gotten better.

Joe found it more difficult than expected working on the script. And not just Cynthia being spacey. She was fairly lucid, and some ideas coming out of the blue he suspected might have been because she was stoned, so in some ways it was a good thing. No, Joe just felt stifled by the format. Describing the scene and camera shots halted the flow of dialogue.

He sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I knew this would be similar to writing plays, of which I have tons of experience. But the difference worried me, and it’s proving to be what I expected,” Joe explained. “It’s like I have three mind sets when I write. Poetry, prose and plays. When I write prose, I have no problem describing the scene. I want to place the readers there as much as possible. Create a specific universe in their mind. Plays are about character. The words they say define them and their purpose. Sometimes its not what they say, and I’ll throw in an adjective or a pause. But hardly ever do I write down business. He sat. She paced. I leave that to the director. It allows me to let the dialogue flow through the scene.”

“But you go back and add things,” she said.

“Mostly improving dialogue. If I don’t think the state of mind is clear and needs to be, I’ll add another adjective. When I write, there has to be a flow. It’s like a rush of words that needs to be written as quickly as possible. This thing with describing the shots is like an abrupt red light that stops the flow.”

“So you’ve found a form of writing you can’t master.”

“There’s been others. Eddie will tell you how much I suck at lyrics. Moira would never let me touch any copy for advertising. Joanne actually has to do my job, writing business for my old plays she and Liang want to publish.”

“Have you ever collaborated on your writing before?”

“Not any early drafts.”

“Can you? Collaborate I mean?”

“I don’t know. Wait. I did once. With Cheryl. With the Broadway musical. I wanted it to be funnier, and she helped me make it funnier. Just gave me ideas while I wrote.”

“But you wrote everything.”

“I did.”

“I think we can solve your problem, Joe. At least try.”

“How?”

“It’s actually a perfect solution for this. Because I know exactly what Jonny would expect from shot descriptions. Just setting the scene would be different. I mean specific to this script.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem. I do that with my plays before I’m off writing the dialogue.”

“Perfect. Now we just need to figure out how we collaborate. You don’t happen to say your words out loud.”

“Sometimes. Usually I say it in my mind to sort of taste the sound of it. Of course I read it out loud when I get back to it, for my plays and my poetry.”

“Do you think instead of using your mind’s ear, you could actually use your actual ear?”

“I can try.”

“I’m thinking I could make notes while you compose. Write what I think the shots would be. I’d just have to be rigorous about where we are in the script.”

“Easy. It could be like numbering stanzas for a poem.”

“But if we end up inserting a scene?”

“Add a letter,” he shrugged.

“Of course. How about this problem, and maybe it could be something we could do on rewrites?”

“What?”

“I imagine when writing plays, you have to be pretty explicit about things to get your point across.”

“A lot more can be shown in film.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means being interrupted fairly often.”

“Yes.”

“I think it would be better to let things flow and come back to them. Maybe, after a few times, I’ll actually figure out what doesn’t need to be said.”

“Like I’ll be your instructor.”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s try it.”

“Let’s start at the top,” Joe suggested.

“Number 1,” said Cynthia, writing the number on a fresh notebook sheet.

Joe tore out the sheet in the typewriter and put in a new one. “Two young men, Jack and Mickey, tall and short respectively, sit on a grassy knoll, passing a joint between them. A guitar sits in Mickey’s lap. It’s night, and their faces are lit by the flickers of a campfire. Sounds of partying youth emerge. Their eyes focus on something which moves. Mickey tamps out the roach and places it in a small metal box and puts the box away in a compartment in his guitar case. He starts to strum and pick. Mickey: ‘We should start a band.’ Jack: ‘I don’t play any instrument. Mickey: ‘We’ll get you a bass and I’ll teach you.’ Jack (grinning): ‘Girls love rock stars.’ Mickey: ‘Yes they do.’ Pan back to show what they both are looking at. Two petite young women. Identical twins. Who glance back at them and smile.”

And so it went. Joe typed and said out loud what he typed. Cynthia made notes. Along with shot descriptions, writing a word or phrase coded with an initial to place the note in later, she wrote cues to come back to the script and tighten it. Show rather than tell. They worked through lunch, brought by Liana, and up until Mel and Cal arrived at the Cube. Time went fast.

Mostly they followed the treatment. But sometimes Joe wanted to add a scene. More often than not, Cynthia agreed, only occasionally asking Joe if it was needed. She knew they could always go back and cross it out.

“Shit,” said Joe when seeing Melanie and Cal made him realize the time. He needed to make a date. Seeing Linton behind them looking at him with purpose further propelled him from his seat.

“I guess we’re done,” Cynthia chuckled.

“Yes. Sorry. It went well,” he said quickly.

“I thought so too,” she responded to his retreating back.

“Hey guys,” he said to Melanie and Cal. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Melanie responded.

“Sorry,” Joe said to Linton. “I didn’t realize the time.”

“So you haven’t called Chandi?”

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

Joe followed Linton to his office near Liana’s. Much smaller, with a desk, a couple chairs and a computer and monitor. And a couch Joe couldn’t help thinking might be used for casting, considering Linton’s line of work. Joe sat behind the desk, Linton handing him her number before Joe could extract it from his wallet.

He called to make a date with Chandi for eight, with Linton picking her up a little before that. As Linton requested, he asked her about her prices. She seemed reluctant to give them.

“I’m not the police, Chandi,” Joe told her. “And no one’s listening in. A mutual friend gave me your number. Said you were a lovely girl. I just need to know if I can afford such loveliness.”

She quoted a price, less than Linton had recommended, for an hour. “And for the night?” Joe asked.

Several hundred dollars cheaper.

“Any extras I should know about?”

“Can I discuss those when I’m there?”

“Of course. With your prices, I think I can afford extras.”

“Oh. Good,” she responded.

“I’d like you for the night, Chandi.”

“I’d like that too, Joe,” she purred. Her first real positive moment.

“Looking forward to meeting you.”

“You too,” she said more nervously. And hung up.

Joe chuckled and called her again.

“Hello?”

“We seem to have disconnected.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m having my driver pick you up ten minutes before eight. Problem is, he doesn’t know where that is.”

“Oh. Jeez.”

“You okay?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“If I’m okay. To be honest Joe, this will be my first date.”

“I know, Chandi.”

“You do?”

“Linton’s my driver. He’ll pick you up in a Rolls Royce limo. He wanted your first time to be with someone he knew would treat you well. I volunteered. To tell you the truth, you’re lucky Linton is guiding you. He knows his clientele and will treat you right. But you’re not feeling lucky are you?”

“I am. Frenchie said the same thing. I’m just nervous.”

“Understandable. So could you tell me where Linton can pick you up?”

“Uhm. Okay.” She finally gave him her address.

“I’m still looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too,” she said, a little less nervously, and hung up.

“Not good?” Linton asked me.

“No. Nerves, but I’d be surprised if she didn’t have them. She quoted a much lower price.”

“You gave her the possibility you couldn’t afford it.”

“I did.”

“Good. I’ll talk to her. Of course if she’s not worth it...”

“You’ll let her go?”

“I’ll train her. Or you’ll train her and a couple other johns sympathetic to the newbie.”

“I imagine you’ll train her as well.”

“For the front end,” he nodded.

Heading to the kitchen, they saw others going in the same direction, for dinner. Delicious as usual. Joe sat across the long dining room table from Melanie, who glanced at him often. He noticed Cheryl beside Cal, flirting with him. Fun later for her and the couple, Melanie being bisexual like her. The way Melanie looked at Joe, he figured she hoped he’d join them. Joe doubted he would.

Three young beauties sat just past his other two wives. Essie, Charlie and Victoria looked to have become even closer friends than before. More intimate. Joe couldn’t help wondering if things had gotten incestuous. It hadn’t bothered him having brother and sister reveal their bodies to each other. Somehow it felt weirdly inevitable. But he wasn’t sure how he felt if it went further. Brother inside sister. It made him think of his sister, Patty, who he realized later, looking back, had a crush on him. Though he found her cute, if often bratty, he couldn’t imagine, nor would he desire, allowing it to go beyond a crush. He realized it felt the same for him with Essie and Charlie. It felt wrong. Essie, Joe figured, would let him know, and they’d discuss it whatever might have happened.

Eddie sat beside Melanie. They talked briefly and occasionally. Setting up the interview which would follow the dinner. An interview which would more than likely surprise Melanie a great deal. Joanne and Rachel would be there, along with Joe. Cheryl too, after accepting her relevance. And Cal probably, since she’d want to keep flirting with him. Joe figured he’d leave at some point to be with Chandi. Cheryl would fill any blanks left by his absence. Except maybe Joe’s inner thoughts, she knew what transpired, and even the inner thoughts were available to her to some extent.

With Rachel sitting beside Eddie and Cynthia beside her, and the two men currently in Eddie’s life separated from him by two women, Eddie’s sexuality wasn’t revealed at the dining table. Joe wondered if it would be revealed later. Both Eddie and Charlie continued to think the big reveal would come at the end of the musical. Joe wasn’t sure he liked that extra bit of real drama. Or if he could even stop it from happening.

During the meal, Joe leaned into Moira, sitting beside him, and whispered, “I have a treat for you tonight.”

“A Christmas gift?”

“If you like. One of Linton’s ladies, a new one, has been invited here tonight. Apparently she likes girls. I thought I’d be with her for an hour, like a john would be with an escort. It’s all about her learning the business and me not scaring her for her first time.”

“You realize you’ll be setting a high bar for future johns,” Moe said.

“Thanks. Anyway, I’d like it if you’d join us for the remainder of the night.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “She cute?”

“She’s pretty hot.”

“You’re so good to me,” she smirked and kissed him lightly.

“What’s up?” Liang asked.

“Tell you later,” Joe said.

“Okay. You mind if I keep Jo warm tonight?”

“Never have to ask,” Joe smiled.

“But I always will.”

“Yes Yanhuo.”

She winked and returned to talking to Joanne.

After dinner, before people separated, Jonny stopped Joe. “I heard you and Cyn got some work done today.”

“We did. Started slow out of the gate, but I think it’s coming together.”

“You okay with me looking at what you’ve got?”

“Your movie,” Joe shrugged. “But it’s pretty rough. Cynthia’s got it.”

“I know. She said it’s like two pieces needing to be put together.”

“She’s right. I’m sure she’ll have notes about changes as well. We haven’t had a chance to go over them yet.”

“Understood,” Jonny nodded.

“So how’s the plans for tomorrow?”

“I think it will go smoothly. A lot simpler than directing a movie, or even an ad.”

“It is an ad.”

“It’s a tour, Joe.”

“And an orgy.”

“Right,” Jonny chuckled. “I can’t imagine the orgy film will matter as far as directing or editing, except getting the best shots, hopefully less of me than the hot ladies. But even if the tour is simple and easy, I think I’ll make the best of it.”

“Good.”

Joe and company settled into the studio. Eddie had his ubiquitous twelve string which helped him think. Joe decided to grab Nigella’s old acoustic/electric bass, distractedly jamming with Eddie. Eddie lit a joint and passed it around. Neither the pregnant Joanne nor Melanie took a hit.

Winston set up a mic to pick up whatever was said. The group surrounded it.

“Where have you been?” Melanie started. “You seemed to have disappeared since the loss of Nigella.”

“I’m always around where I am,” Eddie smirked. “Can’t really disappear from yourself, can you?”

“Did you want to disappear?”

“Yeah.” He paused.

“Could you tell me why?” Melanie prompted.

“It’s pretty obvious.” He sighed. “Okay, I’ll be good. Nige was my writing partner and a great friend. Of course there were rumors of an affair, but that never happened. Even if she had one of the great asses of all time, right Joe?”

“Yes she did,” said Joe. “I thought you said you’d be nice.” Joe noticed Melanie cringe.

“How is that not nice? She was a great lady. A great person. Who happened to have a great ass. Wouldn’t you agree, Jo?” he asked.

“Yes Eddie,” Joanne said. “She was one of the more amazing people who have walked this earth. I loved her and miss her.”

“Me too,” said Eddie. “And her ass?”

“Spectacular,” Joanne chuckled.

“See? One thing about Nige is she was smart. Brilliant. Not just as a musician, and at that she was the best bassist ever. Why she slummed with me, I don’t know, but I’m thankful she did. But she knew we couldn’t include sex in our relationship. She knew it would cause problems. So she chose not to and stuck to her guns. I just wish she’d felt the same about heroin. Fucking cunt.”

He noticed Melanie’s cringe. “Get over yourself, Mel. Men are dickheads or cocksuckers. Does that make you all defensive? No? Fuck you. She was a cunt for getting fucking strung out. Letting that shit take her over. Weaken her. Fucking kill her. You know part of the reason she joined me was to get away from that shit. Didn’t last long, did it, Joe.”

“No it didn’t,” Joe sighed. “Are we going there?”

“You were there, Joe.”

“I was.”

“And you didn’t stop her.”

“I know. I ... I guess I abandoned her.”

“I talked to her about it,” said Cheryl.

“You did?” Eddie asked, and Joe looked at her with curiosity as well.

“Yeah. After Joe told me he got high with her, he came to DC where I was working on the scene there. The straight edge scene? It worried me. Joe told me about the plethora of junk in LA, how he thought it was this really horrible scene that was only going to tug Nige down.”

“You wanted her to check out the scene,” Joe nodded.

“Yeah,” Cheryl continued. “I doubt it would have made all that much of a difference, though. The guys there were cool, but it wasn’t about intervention or anything. Pretty much about making that choice. Keeping a straight head. Something about being manipulated by the drug culture. A little paranoid and conspiracy laced, but it actually makes sense. But Nige liked her dope.”

“You know about straight edge?” Eddie asked Melanie.

“Not really.”

“Jesus.”

“She’s a folky, Eddie,” Joe said.

“Fucking learn your history, woman,” Eddie muttered. “Whatever. Washington DC had a punk scene, led by Ian McKaye of Minor Threat and Fugazi. They believed in being completely drug free.”

“Still do,” said Cheryl.

“It was perfect timing for me,” Joe said. “Meeting those guys. Hearing their philosophy. I didn’t get straight, but I was less inclined to partake in the harder stuff. I never did heroin again. But I think Cheryl’s right. I never understood why Nigella kept taking that shit, but I don’t think anyone but she would have stopped her.”

“I know,” Eddie admitted. “I just can’t help thinking the two Joe’s here could have stopped her.”

“I wish,” Joanne said.

“You sound like you were close,” Melanie asked.

“As close as two women can be. She was my master. Joe gave me to her.”

“Uhm. Okay.”

Rachel laughed. “Girl, you’re way over your head aren’t you? I suppose you have a list of questions?”

“I do.”

“Well you can probably toss them. Or keep them if that’s the way you want to go. But we decided we’d take this to a place a lot more interesting than Eddie as musician. We’re coopting the interview dear. It was eventually up to Eddie, and me being his manager, but agreed to go where Cheryl thought it would be most interesting.”

“Of course,” Melanie shook her head. “She and Joe have always been in my face with...”

“Honesty?” Joe supplied.

“Sex,” said Melanie.

“What we tend to be least honest about,” Joe responded.

“Melanie?” Cheryl asked. “You going to ride this horse or jump off?”

“I just can’t help thinking this is your interview.”

“It can’t be, Mel. I’m too inside it. It has to be you. Not only are you outside, but you’re way outside. You don’t even like Eddie’s music.”

“No gushing,” Melanie chuckled.

“Exactly.”

“But ... where do I begin?”

“Excellent question. Begin at the beginning.”

“Well, I can’t help pursuing my first question. Eddie’s disappearance from everyone but himself. That’s been a big story. A mystery really.”

“As good a place as any,” said Rachel.

“I sort of came home,” Eddie said. “Circled back to my beginning. Which meant inviting myself into Joe’s home.”

“Not your home?”

“I’m ... no. Joe’s my best friend. His family is my family. Including Joanne’s kids. I knew they’d let me fall on my face there and I’d be safe.”

“Fall on your face?”

“I got shitfaced at Nige’s wake. Didn’t wake up until I found myself at Joe’s a couple days later. I had been on the wagon before that. Me and Rache both. I certainly jumped off it and plummeted and landed on my face, luckily, like I said, at Joe’s. Perfect landing, actually, because I needed to start again. Where or who best than with the guy who started the Monsters with me.”

“So you’re starting the Monsters where you started before?”

“Not the Monsters. That’s done. Nige killed it when she finally killed herself. Or whatever.”

“Just you then?”

“No. I’m building a band slowly, like I did with the Monsters. We spent months practicing before our first gig. Like then, it begins with my best friend and me. We’re called MIRE. M-I-R-E, all capitals. Name of my label as well.”

“Label?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be independent for a while. My last album fulfilled my contract, and thankfully I didn’t sign on for more. I have four studios to work on my albums, or our albums. The latest is in the townhouse I share with Joe. Maybe I’ll find other bands. Located at the locations. New York. Paris. LA. I don’t know about here. Maybe some Rasta shit,” he laughed.

“Not a reggae fan?”

“Not my favorite music. Some of the dub shit’s pretty spacy. Stony, you know? And you gotta love Bob Marley, right?”

“I suppose you do.”

“Anyway, I’m starting over where I started. Just Joe and me.”

“New songs?”

“A little slow there. My muse died. I tried writing a song to her to start me up again, and it helped, but ... You want to hear it?”

“Sure.”

He changed guitars to his Les Paul Junior and Joe plugged in. They played it. Joanne sniffled but held in her tears to some extent. Joe hugged her anyway. She smiled.

“I kind of liked that,” Melanie responded.

“Blame Joe for the kind of. He wrote half the lyrics.”

“Fuck you,” Joe chuckled.

Eddie winked.

Joe shook his head.

“So you used to collaborate with Joe?”

“Not really. Joe’s a great writer, but he sucks at lyrics. Getting better at it, I have to admit. It was always my songs. My lyrics. My music.”

“Except No Contest.”

“He always says that. He helped a little. I decided to give him credit. But it’s almost all mine. I guess he remembers it differently.”

“You’re right Eddie,” Joe acquiesced. “But I’m keeping the residuals.”

“I think I’ll survive,” Eddie chuckled.

“Could I hear it?” Melanie asked.

“Did you even listen to my music before you came down here?”

“Some,” she admitted.

“As much as you can stand?”

“Maybe more?”

“Fair enough. Joe?”

They played it.

“I actually like that one,” Melanie said.

“Thanks,” Joe smirked.

“Asshole,” Eddie muttered. But grinned.

“So you said you’re sort of starting again.”

“Yeah. Me and Joe. That’s all there were for a while. Joe needed to learn the bass. I had to figure out how to write songs. It took a while.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen? Joe and I had been best friends since forever. Belle too. The viola player in my band?”

“Okay. Yeah. I know about her.”

“That’s good. The girl thing right? Her and Claire.”

“And Nigella. I thought that’s the coolest thing about the band. Half of them were women.”

“I wasn’t trying to be cool. Belle, like I said, was a close friend. Claire’s her lover and a damn good keyboardist. Nigella’s Nigella. It worked.”

“It’s still remarkable. A rock band with half women.”

“Yeah. Either a token one or an all-girl band.”

“Pretty much.”

“Eddie used to get shit about that,” Rachel said. “There was a whole Minnesota wuss thing with Prince when he had Wendy and Lisa. Remember Eddie?”

“Yeah. Rockers can be dickheads.”

“You’d think other rockers would be envious. They’re all about scoring after all.”

“Groupie’s yes. Not fellow musicians. A lot of whom tend to be lesbians.”

“You too?”

“I was even more of a wuss,” Eddie laughed. “Rache liked to select them.”

“What can I say?” Rachel shrugged. “I like cunnilingus, and girls are better at it. With one exception,” she winked at Joe.

“But yeah,” Eddie admitted, “the whole point of the band, the point of most bands probably, was to score girls, right Joe?”

“I remember,” Joe chuckled.

“And how did that go?” Melanie asked.

“Very well,” both Joe and Eddie said.

“There were these identical twins,” Eddie started.

The interview didn’t get explicit, but it did get specific. About Joe’s play debuting with the Monsters. About girls shifting attention to Joe but not why. About Joanne doing that shifting. About the rift between Eddie and Joe. Cheryl chimed in about her brief sexual relationship with Eddie, but not why. About then, Linton popped his head in.

“Gotta go,” Joe said, and went to Cheryl. “Got a date,” he told her quietly.

“Moe said something,” she nodded. “You going to tell me about it later?”

“Of course. And you’ll tell me about Cal and Melanie.”

“Of course.”

After a quick kiss, he rushed out.

Not knowing the time, Joe asked Linton, “Is she here?”

Linton shook his head. “I’m going to pick her up.”

“Good. I wanted to shower.”

“Let me show you the room. It’s just off the garage entrance.”

“Good idea.”

The room ended up across the hall. While Winston exited into the garage, Joe glanced around and saw that unless someone was just coming out of the kitchen or the dining room, no one would see. He headed to the kitchen and found Liana chatting with her mother.

“Hey,” she smiled at Joe. “Heard you’re having a guest.”

“You hear everything?”

“That happens here, yeah,” she chuckled.

“Then you might know where Moira is?”

“Of course. She should be in the repurposed play room with the kids.”

“Thanks.”

They both paused, thinking about a kiss but decided against it with her mother there.

Joe did find Moe in the playroom. During his brief visit, he noticed Jonny’s youngest seeming to be getting along with his kids. The older kids, Charlie and Essie, and his youngest wife was there as well.

Joe squatted beside Moe. “The girl coming?” she asked with a grin.

“Linton’s gone to pick her up. We’ll be in the room across the hall from the garage entrance. Just a little to the left facing the room door.”

Moe nodded. “What time?”

“Nine?”

“I’ll bring refreshments,” she winked.

“I need a quick shower.”

“Go.”

He kissed her quickly and left. Stopping by the naughty room, he stripped and went into the huge shower, using only one nozzle to wash before drying and going to his bag to find his unpacked robe and put it on over his naked body. He walked away from the kitchen, to loop around to the room, entered it and waited.

When he heard a quiet knock, he told Chandi to come in.

“Wow,” said Joe. Chandi wore a scarlet sari draped over her left shoulder and tight against her body, showing its voluptuousness. The right breast uncovered by the sari she wore a gauzy, nearly transparent red blouse and a nearly transparent lacy red bra beneath it. Her deep black hair had been done up with a hair clip. Golden like the intricate stitching of the sari, depicting the many armed goddess Kali.

“My name comes from her,” Chandi explained quietly.

“I hate to ruin the effect,” said Joe, “but may I remove the hair clip?”

“Yes of course,” she smiled. “I have earings that go with this, but it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose it would,” Joe smiled and carefully removed the clip, letting her long thick hair down, where it draped to near her ass. “You really are beautiful.”

“Thank you Joe,” she smiled.

“May I kiss you?”

She nodded. He stood in front of her, his belt on the robe still fastened, and gently pulled her to him. At five nine, she was on the tall side of normal, but Joe being extra tall leaned down to meet her lips. Soft and plush, they were sensuous objects which, when tongues came to play, became the first of Joe’s explorations before entering her mouth.

She pushed her body closer, her center pressed against a thigh. She felt his hardness against her abdomen. Reaching between them, she undid the cloth belt and opened it. He in turn lifted the cloth from her shoulder and unwrapped her. They paused to set aside the sari before embracing again. Beneath the sari, the gauzy red blouse exposed her midriff, and Joe found her to have a feminine softness at her belly. Neither fat nor taut. Just sensuously rounded. Panties matched her bra. He could see the darkness of her pubic hair. She reached behind her, undid a hook, and her blouse fell free, leaving her only in her sexy bra and panties.

“Have you ever belly danced?” Joe asked her.

“I took a few classes,” she told him. “Would you like me to dance?”

“Maybe later,” he said, turning them around and sitting on the edge of the bed. Still wearing the robe, but it was open and his hard cock was exposed. She started to descend, but he stopped her. “Later for that too,” he said, and unclasped her bra, revealing her heavy, full tits, paler pears contrasting her darker torso. He explored them for a while with fingers, lips and tongue. Nearly black nipples hardened and elongated to pen clicker size, with lighter brown areola somewhere between a quarter and 50 cent piece, crinkling texture with their own sensitivity.