Chapter 5

The phone rang on the coffee table. The women ignored it.

“He’s eighteen. Why isn’t he at school?” Sally slouched in an armchair in Christine’s living room. Her yoga pants were torn and stained green at the knees. Her cashmere sweater had lost a sleeve and was covered in bits of dead leaves. Her hair was a mess, and mascara ran down her cheeks.

“Since Henry’s been gone, I just let James sleep the day away. You know how teenagers are. And he doesn’t get much sleep at night recently.” Christine, sitting naked on her sofa, watched her friend closely. The woman was clearly in the clutches of blessed entropy, a dreamy expression on her normally shrewd face. The phone on the table stopped ringing.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Sally had never felt so relaxed. Her vagina, legs, and arms were sore, yes, but it was the kind of soreness that reminded one of what it was like to use one’s body fully. And to be used fully, as she had been throughout the previous night. “And what happens when Henry gets home tomorrow? He’s not going to let James sleep all day. And he sure as heck isn’t going to let you two ... keep doing ... you know.”

“Oh, my. You’re right!” Christine put her hands to her cheeks in a pantomime of shock. “Whatever will we do? Jimmy is used to constant pussy, Sally. And Henry would never let his son pound his wife every night. That sort of thing is frowned upon. I guess you’ll have to step up and spread your legs for James in my place.”

“I ... um ... I...” Sally couldn’t get the image of that young, feral face howling in pleasure as he released his stuff inside her. “Well, I mean ... tell me for real what you’ll do about Henry.”

“I’ll deal with that when it happens. I’m not a planner.” Christine stood. “I’m thirsty.”

“Me too. Could I have a cup of coffee?” Sally watched the round globes of her friend’s butt shift and shake as Christine walked into the kitchen.

“No coffee here,” Christine called back from the kitchen. She walked back into the living room holding a large salad bowl filled with water. She placed it on the table. “Chemicals hide in the water we drink. It’s much, much worse than you think. But now look and see what this way comes, the purest form of Kumokum.” Christine lowered her face into the bowl and slurped at the water. Her lank hair fell around the bowl, and her splashing covered the quiet cellphone in a little puddle. The suburban wife and mother looked barely herself when she leaned back, smacked her lips, and let the water drip from her chin onto her breasts.

Somewhat aghast, Sally watched her friend’s savagery. Her gaze fell to the rivulets running their way down the slopes of Christine’s breasts. And then lower still, to the shadow hiding what was between the woman’s legs. “Are you ... um ... going to make me ... go down on you again?” Sally’s phone started ringing.

“Are you so eager?” Christine laughed. “Why don’t you answer your phone and tell your husband to expect you home tomorrow? We don’t want him snooping around the house while you’re getting fucked out of your mind tonight.”

“Um ... okay.” Sally reached down and picked up the phone. She hit the answer button and put it up to her ear. “Hello, dear ... yes ... no, I’m fine.” She put her hand over the receiver as Christine slid to the floor and crawled over the carpet toward her. “What are you doing?” Sally whispered to her friend. The way Christine’s shoulders moved made Sally think of some wild cat. And the predatory smile on the woman’s face did nothing to take away from that impression.

“Shh. Talk to hubby now.” Christine arrived at Sally’s legs and slowly walked two fingers up from Sally’s foot, to her calf, to her thigh, to her belly, and then down under the yoga pants. “You’re still a sticky mess from last night,” Christine whispered. She inserted two fingers.

“Um ... no ... I’m here ... sorry, dear.” Sally’s head fell back on the pillows. Her friend’s fingers were not a long, curved penis, but they felt quite nice wiggling inside her. “No ... I’m going to stay another night ... ugh ... Christine. Well, of course she’s here.” Sally held the phone out in front of her.

“Hello, Bruce. I’m right here and a little blue. Your wife is taking good care of me.” She found the ridges inside Sally’s pussy and rubbed along them gently. The frenetic look she got from Sally in response delighted her. She was going to make her friend cum while on the phone with her husband.

“You see. Christine’s just a bit ... under the weather.” Sally brought the phone back to her ear. “But I have to go ... there’s ... um ... chemicals in the water ... or ... ugh ... ugh ... something. No ... just a game. Bye, love you.” She disconnected the conversation without giving her husband a chance to question the absurd things she said. She looked down at Christine, who was now pulling down Sally’s yoga pants. “He could have heard us.”

“Maybe.” Christine pulled the pants and panties down to her friend’s ankles, and then returned her fingers to the sopping pussy. “But listening to you talk to Bruce made me want to mark my territory.” She dove her tongue down to Sally’s clit.

“Territory? Oh? Oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Sally found herself on the receiving end of another enormous orgasm.

The house suffocated James as he walked from his room. Was it a room or a cage? It felt more like the latter. He could hear the easy breathing of sleep coming from his parents’ cage. Naked, his hard cock curved upward and bounced before him. He padded down the hall.

The women were both naked and sleeping on top of the blanket. He could smell them long before he could see them. They had been taking care of each other while he slept. But it was not only the insistent, rawness of sex in the air. There was poison, too. It seemed every artifice in the house expelled a miasma of pollution. He had been breathing this noxious brew his whole life. Without another thought, he picked up the floor lamp in the corner, tore it from the wall, and walked over to the tall windows that overlooked their backyard. The shattering glass was deafening, but the surge of fresh air then enveloped him and relaxed him anew. He turned to see both women sitting up in bed and staring at him. His mother’s face was one of reverence. Sally’s was one of fright.