Getting Off

TWENTY-EIGHT

So many ways to do it. Combinations and permutations, no end of them.

Curiously, sex had never been that important to her. For all the men she’d gone to bed with, the sex was never what it was really about. She enjoyed it and she was good at it, she liked giving pleasure and liked taking it. Her partners always had orgasms, and she liked it when they did. And she generally had one herself, and she liked that, too, because what was there not to like?

But it wasn’t about sex.

In the beginning, with her father, it had been about making him happy, and making sure that he kept on loving her, that he was proud of her. And yes, she liked it, liked when he moaned with pleasure, liked the way his lovemaking made her feel.

Until she let him down by beginning to grow up. At which point he decided they couldn’t make love anymore. Which disappointed her greatly, but not because she’d miss the sex. That, she knew even then, was something she would always be able to get.

But he didn’t want her anymore. That was crushing, knowing that. She hadn’t known what to do, but then she came to know, and she did it, and since then everything had been pretty much all right.

And she’d found that it was as she’d figured, that sex was never hard for her to come by. And God knows she got her share of it, but the fact remained that it wasn’t about sex.

But it was really wonderful to try all the things that were available to you when you had three performers instead of merely two. A third mouth, a fifth and sixth hand, another set of genitalia — the possibilities increased exponentially, and when you added in the toys Angelica kept on hand, paraphernalia for the genitalia, as it were, well, there was no limit to what you could do.

Now, though, there was a welcome lull in the action, and she lay between the man and the woman, breathing in their scent and the aroma of their mutual passion, with her face nuzzled between Angelica’s breasts and one of her arms extended, one of her hands lightly gripping Brady.

And she said, “Did I mention that I was an orphan? I don’t think I did, and I know for sure I didn’t say anything about how it happened. See, what it was, I lived with my parents, no brothers or sisters, and I was in high school and I spent this one night at a girlfriend’s house. Not a girlfriend in the Eve’s Rib sense, just my best friend in school, and I called home to say I was sleeping over and there was no answer, and I got a funny feeling. And in the morning I went home and they were both dead, my mother and my father, and what happened, he shot her and then he shot himself. So it was very sudden, how I got to be an orphan.”

And, while they were taking that in, she said, “Listen, there’s something I’d like to do, if it wouldn’t freak you out. I mean, it’s not physical or anything. It’s just inside my mind, really, but do you think it would be okay if I called the two of you Mommy and Daddy?”

Brady lay on his back, his eyes closed. It occurred to him that anyone observing him would think he was relaxed and at peace. He was neither, and he knew what would have to happen in order for him to relax, to be at peace.

He heard the girl say she’d be back in a few minutes, felt the mattress adjust itself as she got up from it. Heard her footsteps as she left the room, then as she descended the stairs.

He sat up, opened his eyes.

“She took her purse,” Angelica said.

“She’s not leaving?”

“Not unless she plans to run naked through the streets. She left her clothes.”

She started to say something else, but he put a hand on her flank to silence her. “There’s something you have to know,” he said, “because I don’t want it to take you by surprise. But it’s something I need to do.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to do her,” he said. “I have to.”

“For Christ’s sake, Brady, you’ve been doing her six ways from Sunday for a couple of hours now.”

“I’ve been fucking her,” he said, “and I’m going to fuck her some more, but when I’m done with that I’m going to do her.”

She looked at him. “You know, you’re just gonna to have to spell it out for me, honey. Say what you mean.”

If he came out and said it he’d be one big step closer to the act. Did he want that?

He drew a breath and said, “I’m going to kill her.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I have to.”

“Some Daddy you’re turning out to be.”

“You don’t have to be in the room when it happens. I’ll give you advance warning.”

“Considerate of you. You know what I was thinking? That you were ready to adopt her and try living as a trio. I don’t know that I’d like that.”

“No.”

“It might be fun for a while, but then it wouldn’t. But what you said, you’re serious, aren’t you? How are you going to do it?”

“With my hands.” Saying the words, spelling it out, bringing the act another little bit closer to reality. “I’ll take hold of her,” he said, “and break her neck.”

“You can do that?”

“There’s a technique,” he said, and put his hands out in front of him and mimed the movement. “You twist hard,” he said, “and the neck snaps.”

“You’ve never—”

“Of course not. But I’ve thought about it. It’s been playing in my mind for a long time now.”

“A fantasy.”

“Yes.”

“And you want to make it real.”

“I need to. Listen, she’ll be back any minute and—”

“We’ll hear her on the stairs. When is this going to happen?”

“When we’re done playing.”

“That may be a while.”

“We’ve got the rest of the night. And I’ll give you warning, so that you can leave the room.”

“Are you kidding? I want to be here.”

“Really?”

“If it’s gonna happen,” she said, “I damn well want to be here when it does. I want to see you do it, I want to watch her face when she knows what’s happening, I want to watch her big eyes when the life goes out of them.”

“Jesus, Angelica.”

“God, feel how wet I am just thinking about it. And I swear it’s never been my fantasy, but I have to tell you it is now. But not too soon, all right? Because all of a sudden there are a lot of things I want to do with her. I want to teach her something new.”

“You think there’s anything she doesn’t already know?”

“Well, let’s see if anybody’s ever taught her that fist is a verb.”

“She may not like that.”

“So? You’re going to break her fucking neck, so what difference does it make what she likes and doesn’t like? And once she’s dead I want to lie on top of her while you fuck me.”

“God, you’re something.”

“And so are you. Thank God we found each other. And I can’t wait to — shhh, she’s on the stairs.”