Chapter 10: The Summer of 1991 Getting Smyth laid

The first thing I did when Wanda and I got home on Tuesday afternoon was to place a call to Marcie. Mrs. Cochran said she hadn't arrived home from work yet, but she would have Marcie call me. I went upstairs to change clothes and open my mail.

"Dear Sammy,

Jessica's still in the same apartment although she's living alone now. She'll be thrilled to hear from you, as will I, hint! Thank you for remembering our birthdays, hint, hint! It's hard to believe I'll soon be on this earth nineteen years.

Josh says to say hello. He's so busy this summer, earning extra money for school, that I hardly see him. He and Eddie are going to be roommates, Celia will be at Radcliff and I'll be across the river. Next year, when they're in their second year, the three brains and I hope to get an apartment together.

Cindy was home for a few days. She and Monty are planning a big wedding next year. It's going to be held on a small island off the coast of South Carolina where his family summers. Please say you'll come.

When are you coming home? Call me, we'll do something.

Love,

Jeanne

There was also a letter from Heather, thanking me for my last check. She sent a picture of K.O. with a note attached: "Your nephew was one and a half years old on June 23^rd. When are you going to visit him?"

I was looking at the kid's photo when the telephone rang.

"How's the bedpan girl?" I asked Marcie.

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?"

"It's elementary, my Dear. You're calling me on Tuesday afternoon, therefore, something is wrong."

"You know me too well," I lamented before bringing her up to date regarding Wanda's arrival, tennis with Kim Thomas, my windfall bank account and my progress with Patti.

Marcie didn't interrupt once to comment or ask questions. She was waiting to hear what was really on my mind.

"One of Patti's high school friends has been in collusion with Michael Coffee, Patti's former husband. He's been spreading rumors about Patti being a loose woman to their clients and Sara and her husband, Howard Carpenter, have been doing their part to substantiate what Michael has been saying about his ex-wife."

"Why?" Marcie interrupted.

"Michael wanted to sway their clients to give him their work."

"That's a disgraceful thing to do, but why would Patti's friend turn on her?"

I looked down at the pool to see Wanda floating on her back. She was wearing a conservative, black, one-piece suit, quite a contrast from the evening before when she and Marsha frolicked naked.

"She's desperate. Howard works for her father, who is less than satisfied with his son-in-law right now. They were distributing lies about Patti in hopes that Michael would put in a good word for Howard to get jobs. Apparently, nothing materialized and now that they found out Patti's the consulting architect for the new Oldham building, they want to make amends. They both say Sara will do anything if we agree to help Howard get the ceiling work at the new building."

Marcie didn't respond as I expected her to. She was thoughtfully silent for several seconds. "I don't like the sound of this, Sammy. You're planning something, aren't you?"

"They're coming here tonight. I'm going to make sure they agree to retract their lies, not that it's likely to do much good now that the damage has been done."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Patti's already had one bad experience and now she's getting more calls from guys who have been misled into thinking she'll put out. It may be too late for Sara and Howard to reverse the damage they've done, but I'm going to make them experience the same humiliation Patti's going through."

Marcie didn't hesitate. "I would caution you to think about this, but I know I can't talk you out of going through with your plans. Call me tomorrow, please?"

I called Marcie the next day and told her everything had gone as planned. She didn't ask for details, seemingly knowing this was one night of my life I wanted to forget.

Conversely, my friend Wanda witnessed what happened and is willing to relate the entire evening.

Hello, my name is Wanda Rowell. I'm Sammy Oldham's very attractive, fun-loving friend. He mistakenly believes that he holds some mysterious power over me. He's wrong. I'm the one who has manipulative control over him. In fact, I was staying the week with him at his invitation. He had even introduced me to Marsha Rice, with whom I had a delightful tryst. But that's another story.

I had asked Sammy if I could invite Marsha to stay with us that night and without blinking an eye he said, "Okay, we'll park her car in the garage, too."

See what I mean? I've got him wrapped around my little finger. Sammy always says okay. He does have a dominant air though; I knew better than to ask why Marsha's car had to be parked in the garage.

I was in the pool when Marsha and Patti arrived. They joined me, and Sammy took down the blind that kept the nosey little neighbor from watching us.

Something told me this was not to be an ordinary Tuesday night when Sammy went over to the fence and spoke to Mr. Smyth. It was only a minute before Smyth disappeared and Sammy sat down on one of the loungers. Patti got out of the pool and took a seat next to him. Marsha and I watched them talk quietly, looking very serious. Every so often Patti would place her hand on his cheek. Otherwise, they were both placid.

Patti disappeared into the house and I thought Sammy would join us in the pool, but he didn't move. He continued to sit on the lounge chair, watching us, expressionless, like he was miles away.

When Patti reappeared, wearing a short skirt and T-shirt, she told us to change for dinner. I got out of the pool and playfully shook water on Sammy. He grinned at me for a second, before looking away and I just knew not to aggravate him. Sammy gets real testy when I disobey him.

Marsha and I fooled around in the shower and then we dressed like Patti in short skirts and T-shirts, except we didn't wear underwear.

Dinner consisted of a green salad and deli style sandwiches. Sammy wore his swim trunks and ate sparingly. I tried several times to say something witty and received polite smiles for my trouble. When Sammy got up, he and Patti exchanged a look.

"Are you determined to go through with this?" she asked, following Sammy to the door. He put his arms around her and they whispered to each other.

"What's this about?" I demanded to know when Sammy left and Patti returned to the table. She hesitated before answering me.

"It's something Sammy feels he has to do for me. We're going to watch from upstairs," she said. It wasn't much of an explanation, but I could see it was all Patti was going to say. Marsha was becoming as curious as me.

Patti led us upstairs to the back bedroom and told us we could open the windows. "Sammy shut down the air conditioning so we can hear him and the visitors," she said, putting her finger to her lips as a warning for us to be quiet.

Marsha and I shared one of the windows overlooking the back yard and Patti took the other one. It was getting dark when Sammy greeted the couple as they came through the back gate. "Welcome Howard and Sara," he said in a loud, disgustingly cheerful voice that was totally out of character.

The man was tall and heavy, with sagging shoulders and a hollow, defeated look on his face. The woman was younger, with drooping breasts and an ass too wide for her years. They were looking around; as if they wanted to make sure no one else was there.

"Why didn't you tell us you had a pool, Sammy? I would have brought my bathing suit," the woman said.

Sammy's laugh was boisterous. "You don't need a bathing suit here, Sara. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

The couple took seats on the lounge chairs and the man spoke so quietly we had to strain our ears to hear. "Scotch or a beer, whatever you have," he said.

It was becoming warm in the room and the night air was still hot. I had my arm around Marsha and felt moisture collecting between us, but I didn't want her to move.

"What about you, Sara? Would you like something?"

"I'd like a beer, please," she said.

Sammy told the couple he would be right back with the drinks and left them alone.

"I'd like a beer, too," Marsha whispered and we heard Patti shush us. I kissed Marsha on the lips to keep her quiet. She kissed me back, nearly making us miss what was being said below.

"Take off your clothes and go in the pool bare-assed if that's what he wants," Howard was saying to his wife.

"He didn't say that," she argued.

"What the fuck do you think he was hinting at?"

Sammy came into sight, carrying a tray filled with a bottle, ice, two beers and three glasses. "Here we go," he said as he sat the tray on the table. Howard got up and offered to open the bottle while Sammy poured Sara's beer for her. She accepted the glass, smiling appreciatively.

I was watching Howard take his seat, holding a glass with three fingers of Johnny Walker Red, no ice, when Marsha pointed to the fence. Smyth was taking in the scene next to the pool.

"Did you mean what you said about me skinny dipping in your pool, Sammy?" Sara asked, sounding timidly seductive.

"Of course he meant what he said," her husband said before Sammy could reply. Howard tipped his head back and swallowed half the liquid in his glass.

"If you would like to jump in and cool off, I'll get a towel," Sammy offered.

"She wants to," Howard said, draining his glass.

Sammy turned toward the house and while he was gone, Howard poured himself another generous helping from the bottle. "Take your clothes off, but don't jump in until he comes back," he instructed his wife.

"I'm not sure that's what he wants," Sara said, but her husband disagreed and she reluctantly complied. She was stepping out of her panties when Sammy came outside, carrying an armful of towels.

Howard looked at Sammy, then at his naked wife and back at Sammy. "See anything you like, Mr. Oldham?" Howard asked before taking another swig of scotch. Sammy dutifully looked at the naked woman, nodded respectfully without commenting.

Sara, obviously embarrassed at being on display, leapt into the pool, splashing water on her husband. He cursed her until he noticed Sammy watching, disapprovingly.

I felt Marsha's hand on my thigh and opened my legs to encourage her to move it upward. Smyth, I noticed, was peering over the fence, trying to get a glimpse of Sara's pussy as she floated on her back, opening and closing her legs to propel herself.

Sammy dropped the towels next to Sara's clothes and took a seat. "I've reviewed your quotation for the ceiling work, Mr. Carpenter. You're on target, but you realize the specifications may change before the job is awarded."

Howard was pouring himself another drink. "Please call me Howard, Mr. Oldham. Changes to the specs are no problem. I can hold the price as long as the square footage doesn't change. I want that job. I need it."

"Some areas of the tile may be upgraded," Sammy warned.

"It doesn't matter. I'll hold the price," Howard said, a little unsteady on his feet as he took his seat."

"It's not that simple," Sammy began, only to be interrupted by Howard.

"Sara," Howard yelled at his wife. "Get out of the water and come here."

Sara resisted, probably because nudity made her uncomfortable. "Sammy, why don't you come in the pool? You can skinny dip if you want," she suggested.

"Yeah, you can skinny dip if you want," Howard echoed his wife, obviously in favor of the idea.

Sammy declined the offer to get naked with Sara, wanting to pursue the subject he had begun. "There's something else you promised to do, but haven't," Sammy said, looking directly at Howard.

"Anything, you name it and it's yours, Mr. Oldham," Howard said, motioning for Sara to get out of the pool.

Marsha was circling my pussy with one finger. Smyth's upper body was above the fence, wearing only very thin, sweatpants and showing a very impressive hard-on tenting them. I checked to see if Patti was watching. She was taking everything in, our embrace, Smyth's hard-on, and Sara climbing out of the pool.

I nudged Marsha to direct her attention to the scene below. Sammy and Howard were watching Sara's naked body walk toward them. She looked frightened, like she wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

Howard stumbled to his feet and ordered his wife to sit down.

Sammy tossed one of the towels to Sara and while she was drying her hair, repositioned both loungers so that we, Patti, Marsha, Smyth and I would have a clear, frontal view of the occupants.

I put my hand under Marsha's skirt and felt her warm, sticky thigh.

Three simultaneous sounds, the pop as Sammy pulled the tab on his beer, my moan when Marsha's thumb found my clit and Smyth's mournful sigh when the naked woman dropped the towel, caused Sara to spot us. Her eyes darted to Sammy, up to the windows where Patti was glaring at us and finally to Smyth's bare chest and prominent hard-on.

Howard, oblivious to what had just happened, impatiently demanded that his wife take her seat on one of the loungers. Sara calmly complied with her husband's order and Sammy grinned in relief before tipping the can back and taking a long swig of beer.

"Take a seat next to your wife," Sammy suggested and Howard obediently flopped down on the second lounge chair.

Sara reached for her husband's glass, which he relinquished without an argument, and swallowed three mouthfuls of scotch before handing the glass back to him.

What I saw below was like a bad dream. Sara knew she had an audience, and yet she nonchalantly opened her legs, exposing her pussy to Sammy and Smyth. Why was her husband encouraging her? Totally captivated, Marsha and I stopped fooling around and just watched.