Chapter 23: Pothole Repair

"When you said sore I thought you meant..."

"That too Joe. He made it easy to fuck him over."

"So everything worked well."

"Bettter. It seems Roger's endeavors might continue."

"Really?"

"You should have seen him Saturday night. He hid it well, but you could see him holding fast to his dream."

"I should have seen him."

"I think we needed this, we need this. Everything has to be wide open between us, otherwise things fester and rot."

"Uhm..." Joe looked guilty. Marta could see it plainly as she lay against the pillows, her torso bare except for bandages on her shoulder. Her nipples pointed at Joe sitting crosslegged as near as possible holding her hands. Joe's honesty couldn't be helped. His face could be read like a glossy gossip magazine.

"What?"

"I have a confession." Joe paused. Marta waited. Joe sighed. "I got drunk last night, went to the bar we met, drowned myself in Long Island Iced Teas. I rarely glanced at the bar where the mating rituals thrived until after my third I met Debra's eyes."

"Who's Debra?" Marta asked, studying Joe's face, a gentle, unconcerned smile on hers.

"She's a secretary at the firm. Her and Laura, they're roommates and Laura's our receptionist, participated in the rites of mating at the bar, at least Laura did. She's this thin blonde model type, the kind the predatory lawyers enjoy most and she engaged one. Debra, looking abandoned caught my eye and sat with me. We shared another Iced Tea and Laura joined us for another. As usual the guy worshipped at the shrine of himself and Laura had enough."

"Can I meet them?"

"I haven't..."

"I know what happened. Debra was horny and saw a fine specimen for relief and so did Laura."

"Debra said to tell you they raped me. It kind of happened like that, although I didn't put up much resistance."

"Any?"

"A word or two."

Marta laughed. "Kiss me carefully. Leaning your way hurts."

"I don't deserve you," Joe muttered.

"Kiss me you fucker."

"Yes Mistress." He positioned himself to avoid touching her wound and leaned in for a kiss. Like usual, several kisses ensued, each more thrilling for both participants.

"Mmm," hummed Marta when she moved her lips away and smiled, her eyelids half closed. "I don't feel any less love."

"Of course not. You're my life."

"You're mine. What did they say afterwards?"

"I kind of suggested I have a harem. They wanted to join. They joked."

"Did they?"

"I'm not going to wave a flag of victory like some egotistical Casanova."

"I know. It's why they suggested it. What other praise?"

"Laura complained all the good ones are taken when I cooked them omelets."

"Ah, the seducer at work."

"I felt like a Sheik when they fed me in bed. Debra suggested it. It preceded the rape."

"You described Laura. What about Debra?"

"Laura has sort of a lack of development."

"Willowy is the kind description."

"And Debra hasn't the beauty that attracts immediately, but her body ... She's voluptuous. Kind of like yours but more so. She appears chunky when dressed. She wants to attend Amateur Night at Choice. I think she'd be a hit."

"She has a sensuous presence?"

"And sexy. I used to watch her move. Her butt entranced me before my mind lost all interest in any woman's body but yours."

"And Mary's. And Marianne's. And Margie's, your Lolita."

"Busted."

Marta laughed. It hurt. "You okay?" asked Joe.

"Get me some Tylenol and a big glass of water."

Once fetched he returned to the cross legged position. "My mom called," he said after a brief kiss. He helped her set the glass on the bedside table. "She invited me to Thanksgiving Dinner. It's a tradition never broken. Everyone one of us, Roger, my sister and I and my parents of course have always had that one meal together. And Carol has been there the last three dinners. I suppose we could head up early Thursday, but I'd prefer being there Wednesday if my bosses will let me."

"Us?"

"Of course. You and I."

"Oh Joe," Marta smiled, delighted. She wanted an embrace but felt the twang of pain. "Give me a hug you big lug." After the careful but intense hug and a big kiss, her face changed. "Damnit, what about my parents?"

"Invite them. And your brother too."

"And Mary."

"You're right. Definitely Mary."

"And..."

"Jesus."

"I know. We could have the feast in our log cabin! Can your dad travel?"

"I'm not sure. He doesn't, not for a long time."

"Call her. Maybe she could come down early to make the turkey."

"I can cook the turkey. I used to help Mom."

"What a son!" spouted Marta shaking her head.

"It's a lot of work. She needed my help."

"No one else helped much I bet."

"I hadn't even noticed."

"I love you my domesticated stud god. Call her."

"Alright."

"If she agrees, call Carol."

"Shouldn't Roger..."

"He thinks she's too good for him. And about the stud thing..."

"Mom? Hi. My girlfriend ... Didn't I tell you? Sorry, we had our first argument before you called and I ... Yes she is. She's better than me. You're biased."

"No you're not," shouted Marta and groaned.

"Yes that's her. She's lovely Mom. You'll like her. Yes, I mean no, I mean it depends on whether Dad could make the trip to Chicago. Patti could help drive. It's not that I couldn't join you there. I probably could and I would bring Marta. Yes it is a lovely name. It suits her. It's just that I have a friend who needs a Thanksgiving Dinner, a real family gathering, and ... well ... another friend too and I thought since we're here and you're there ... I would cook it. Of course you would help but I thought I'd let you rest. Does that mean you can come? That would be wonderful. Let me give you the address to the house and directions. I suppose I didn't tell you. There's a lot going on here to say the least. Uhm ... well ... I haven't seen it. Marta has. She'll tell you about it and tell you how to get there."