Get Together [Adult] by Ty Spencer Vossler

Rita was a bonafide socialite. She loved hosting little get-togethers with friends and acquaintances. Her husband, Emiliano, was department chair of the Morelia Math Institute in Mexico, and was bland in comparison to her. Yet their arrangement seemed to work. His monthly check provided Rita with her requisite standard of living. She, in turn, cared for their two young ones, kept the house organized and opened her legs for him once every week or two.

Lucia met her while working on a research paper with Rita’s husband. I was teaching English at a small private university in Puebla, and every two weeks I took a six-hour bus ride to visit. Such is life when you are married to a math researcher. Still, our conjugal visits made each trip worth it. According to Lucia, Rita was rather pretentious. Still, they occasionally went out for lunch together, and Lucia listened as Rita spilled gossip. She even confessed to having an occasional fling just to keep her life interesting.

One three-day weekend, instead of enduring the long bus ride, I flew to Morelia. When Lucia met me at the airport, she crashed into my arms and kissed me hungrily. On the way to her rented flat, she said that we were invited to a get-together at Rita’s home that evening.

“She is silly, but fun,” Lucia said. “We talk—

“And,” I interrupted, “the next day it’s on the six o’clock news.”

“I never discuss my private life, although I did say that I like the name, Rita, for a daughter.”

“You want a baby?”

“We should talk about it.”

“Is Rita’s husband, Emiliano, clueless about her little trysts?”

“She is very careful, but you wouldn’t believe some of the things she’s done.”

“Try me.”

“She has a lover from Brazil who does research with her husband. She told me that they fucked on Emiliano’s desk in his office.”

“And what do you do on your desk?”

“I share an office with another woman,” she teased.

That’s how our relationship worked. We had a healthy fantasy life. Women Topologists are rare, and Lucia was the Hope Diamond in her field. Mathematicians can be hedonistic and I was sure that Lucia had fended off her share of come-ons.

That evening Lucia dressed in a beautiful low-cut red dress. I wore a simple arrangement of dark pants with a white linen guayabera. Although I’m six-foot-four, Lucia tops out at five feet—yet oddly enough we fit. I cupped my hands over the generous curve of her ass. She trapped them there.

“We’ll have plenty of time after the party, Mr. Costner.”

Rita greeted us at the door, “I’m so glad you could make it. This must be your handsome husband.”

We exchanged the requisite cheeky-kisses, and she ushered us around for introductions. I noticed how many guests were appraising Lucia. Her short, dark hair created an aura of sensuality. Her lips were painted red and her almond-shaped eyes leisurely scanned the room. I was drawn into a conversation with Rita’s husband and Rita led Lucia to another cluster. Emiliano put in his two cents regarding the current economic crisis in Mexico, and I saw that Lucia was talking to an attractive chap sporting straight black hair that fell just below his shoulders. Rita flitted like a hummingbird from one guest to another, delighted to see everyone mingling. I joined Lucia when Emiliano started in about the NAFTA agreement with another guest. As I approached, Lucia’s admirer looked me up and down before offering a cool smile.

“Wyler, this is Rigoberto—he is a sculptor.”

We shook hands and he gave a strong, measuring grip, born of forcing marble and steel to do his bidding.

Lucia pointed to a large coffee table, “That is his work.”

The metal sculpture depicted a couple of indistinct gender entwined in a carnal embrace.

“Your wife tells me that you are a writer,” he said with a strong Italian accent.

“Yes.”

“It is difficult, the life of an artist, no?”

“It can be frustrating at times,” I answered, “that’s why I keep my day job.”

“Ah yes, Lucia said that you work in Puebla—a beautiful city. It must be difficult for you to be separated from your beautiful wife.”

I nodded, “But the reunions are a lot of fun.”

Lucia jabbed me in the side, ”Wyler…”

Rigoberto focused on Lucia again. The way he looked at her raised my hackles and the way she looked back at him made me feel worse.

Cumbia music started playing and Rita clapped her hands and encouraged everyone to take to the floor. I regret to say I’m not much of a dancer. Lucia, on the other hand, is superb. The Italian wasted no time in taking her hand and leading her into the throng of twisting bodies. A striking Asian woman tugged on my arm and I followed, trying my best not to mash her toes. Cumbia is a learned skill. Even Mexicans have to take lessons if they wish to dance it well.

The next song was called, Tropical Love, sung by Eydie Gormé. It was a slow, romantic tune and Rigo still had possession of Lucia. My lovely dance partner pressed her mouth to my ear to say that her name was Yoong, and continued floating in my arms. When the song ended, Yoong motioned me to follow and she led me into the backyard garden.

“I heard that you were a writer. What kind of books do you write?” she asked.

“Mostly adult fiction—science fiction, erotica, poetry, and a few essays.

“I like to read erotica. Where can I buy it?”

“I’ll give you a copy of my latest collection.”

“Will you sign it?”

“Of course. Are you a professor?”

“I am an architect,” she answered.

Looking back into the house, I saw Lucia resting her head on Rigoberto’s chest as they danced and he said something in her ear. She smiled and then he bent to say something else. A waiter came into the garden to offer us a glass of white wine. Yoong tipped glasses with me and we admired the amazing variety of exotic flowers.

“I’ll bet Rita’s children don’t get to play out here much.”

“The girls are older now. Do you have children?”

I shook my head, “Lucia wants to. What about you?”

“No, but someday I hope to.”

“Married?”

“Almost once, but it would have been a mistake.”

The song ended and I excused myself to be with Lucia. I returned to the garden to introduce her to Yoong, but she had left. Garden. An ancient Jacaranda was bursting with blue flowers.

“So…what did you guys talk about?”

“That is privileged information,” Lucia replied.

“Out with it,” I folded my arms and tapped my feet with feigned impatience.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Rigoberto told me that he wants to fuck me.”

“Yeah, sure,” I deadpanned.

“It is true, he said that he doesn’t believe in wasting time with formalities.”

“He didn’t get to first base with that line of crap did he?”

Lucia shrugged, “At least he was honest.”

“What other lines did he fish with?”

“He mentioned that his house is easy walking distance.”

My heart pounded painfully in my throat, yet I played along, “What did you say to that?”

“I told him that I would have to ask my husband.”

“No way, you didn’t.”

Lucia pursed her lips and nodded, “I did.”

I took a long gulp of wine, “You hardly know the guy.”

“That’s right, let’s not talk about it anymore. I saw you with somebody too.”

“Her name is Yoong.”

“Sounds like a song. And what did you talk about?”

“She wants to take me into the bathroom and give me a blow job.”

“You should go for it.”

“Hey, I’m kidding, but you aren’t."

“Okay, let’s drop it. I can see it’s upsetting you.”

“I’m not upset. If you want to fuck a stranger, be my guest.”

At the time, I guessed that she was playing for my reaction. Lucia is an expert at that.

She smiled, “Somebody is getting jealous.”

I calmed myself and decided to end the game by calling her bluff. Then we could stick around a while longer, have a few more drinks, return to the flat to fuck the rest of the evening.

“Okay, go ahead, but be careful,” I said.

“You’re not serious.”

“If you really want to, then go ahead.”

“You’re putting me on.”

“No, I’m serious. If you really want to fuck this guy, then be my guest.”

“His house is close, it would just be an hour or two.”

“Save some for me.”

She kissed me, “Of course, I will save you the best.”

At this point I thought that Lucia would break into laughter and compliment my paying style. Instead, she kissed me, “Thank you, baby,” and rejoined Rigo. The music was blaring. She put a hand on his shoulder to tiptoe and said something into his ear. He grinned ear-to-ear and then they moved through the dancers and out of my view. Yoong rejoined me in the garden just then.

“Would you like a refill?” I asked, seeing her glass was nearly empty.

“Let me,” she held out a hand for my glass.

“Thanks.”

Yoong returned with the wine and we toasted, yet I couldn’t taste it. Lucia had the upper hand again and I was beginning to worry. She was probably hiding in another room waiting for me to find her.

“Excuse me Yoong, I need to find my wife.”

“You just missed her—she left with Rigoberto,” she said.

I swallowed hard and stared past Yoong.

“Oh,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe they’re just outside.” She took me by the hand, “Let’s look.” As we walked toward the front door Rita cornered us.

“You’re coming back, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Yoong explained.

“Bon voyage,” she smiled at me.

Lucia and Rigoberto were not out front.

“I live just around the corner, would you like a special drink?”

“I could use about five of those,” I said, the words barely escaping from my throat.

Yoong slipped her hand into mine as we strolled. I tried imagining how we looked together—diminutive Yoong, long shining black hair and almond eyes and me, a Bigfoot next to her. Yet, with the exception of her long hair, Yoong and Lucia shared many of the same qualities.

“Rigo lives two blocks that way,” she pointed.

“Oh.” My imagination was making a fool of me and already had Lucia in his arms, enjoying the first tentative kisses.

“This is my place,” Yoong gestured to a large structure with a uniquely angled tile roofline, the windows were large ovals and the front was landscaped into a Zen-garden with fresh rake marks in the sand, and flowering cactus.

“I have a pond in the backyard filled with Koi.”

“Do you live alone?”

“Presently,” she smiled.

“It’s very nice.”

Yoong opened the front door and motioned me in ahead of her. I am terrible with small talk, yet I was sure that Rigoberto was much better with it. He was probably pulling the straps of Lucia’s dress down over the shoulders and playing his fingers over her smooth brown back.

“I collect antiques,” Yoong said as she led me into the living room, “you’re welcome to look around, I’m going to change.”

There were ancient maps framed on walls and several erotic Asian paintings with cherry trees and lovely women in the arms of ardent lovers. I sat on a red leather couch admiring the coffee table, fashioned from an ancient door.

Rigoberto was probably leading Lucia to his bed. The first clash, flesh to flesh would be electrifying. And when Lucia spread for him, he would see the mocha lips of her pussy separate slightly. Then he would crawl between them.

Yoong returned wearing a silk Kimono and holding out another for me.

“I’ll make my secret drink recipe while you put this on. The bathroom is on the left.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t question, nor did I wish to at this point. As I slipped into the silky material, my erection pushed out in front.

I imagined Lucia with Rigoberto, clothes strewn on the floor and he is scraping one of her brown nipples through his teeth and then circling it with his tongue. Lucia likes that.

When I joined Yoong, incense was burning and she sat, lotus position in the living room on a thick sleeping mat. The lights were off and large candles perfumed the air and provided a mystical illumination. A hand-towel lay next to an amber bottle. My knees popped when I tried sitting like her. She poured sake into a thimble cup and I took a long sip. It was warm and strong.

“Delicious,” I said.

“It is my own recipe.”

“You made this?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Sorry, if I explain, it won’t be a secret.”

“Okay, no more sake questions.”

Yoong smiled and poured another cup. When I finished with that one, she gestured for me to lie face down on the pad.

“You can take off the kimono if you wish.”

Shyly, I shrugged out of the kimono and lay naked on my stomach, lifting to adjust my cock, which was already beginning to swell. I heard a rustle of silk and watched as she draped our kimonos over a nearby chair. Yoong was slender, with childish breasts and a darkly forested snatch. She straddled me and poured a small amount of fragrant oil in her palm to work into my neck.

Undoubtedly, Rigoberto was licking Lucia’s pussy. He will spread her lips with his thumbs, and find her tiny clitoris with his tongue. Lucia will shiver and lift her hips.

Yoong pressed her breasts into my back as she kneaded with her fingers, “Do you like this?”

“Mmm, that feels very nice.”

Her soft tongue tasted my neck and ear, and then she whispered, “You can turn over now.”

Lucia filled my thoughts, usurping the space reserved for my exotic lady-friend. I pictured Rigo—his thick cock poised at her entrance, scooting forward, finding her wetness and burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. She is letting out a deep contented groan and digging her heels into his ass.

Yoong kissed me and reached for my cock. She lifted, wiggled, and sat down slowly until my full length was wetted. Then she circled her hips, churning me inside of her. “Uh, hy, hy, hyyy,” she groaned.

Right about now Rigoberto’s hands are cupped beneath Lucia’s raised knees. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure as he glides back and forth, pausing at the bottom to tap at the beginnings of her womb.

I twisted Yoong’s nipples as we fucked and she liked it. Then sucked mine and I liked it too. She rubbed her clitoris as she rode me and her breath came in jerky spurts.

By now Lucia is cumming and Rigo is thrusting through her contractions—her voice is a symphony of moans, gasps, and textured groans.

Yoong cried out—a desperate little bird cry followed by twitching spasms. My ball-sack was lifted by my powerful discharge.

Afterward, our hearts raced. Yoong’s hair smelled like cinnamon. As my cock retreated, Yoong reached for the hand towel. When I slipped out, she put it between her legs.

“Let’s shower,” she suggested.

We soaped each other and she kneeled to take me into her mouth.

Lucia is probably sitting on the toilet, his spurt dripping into the cool water. When she rejoins him he will be stiff again.

I kissed Yoong at her front door. She wasn’t ready to return to the party, and I was eager to see if Lucia had returned. My legs trembled as I walked. Sex exercises a different set of muscles. When I arrived at Rita’s, Lucia wasn’t there. I tried her cell phone, yet it was off.

In all likelihood, she was enjoying a follow-up fuck. He’ll take her from behind, spread those big ass cheeks, drive into her, and it will take longer for him to nut the second time.

I waited for a half-hour. Yoong returned and sporadically kept me company.

Rita floated over, “Where is that naughty wife of yours?”

I shrugged and tried to smile, “Learning Italian I suppose.”

“Vivendo il momento,” she said in Italian, living in the moment.

Another half-hour went by and I finally received a text from Lucia. Inbox (1) Hi baby, I will be back in a few minutes. Mua!

I didn’t reply, perhaps because she had been gone for so long. I imagined that they had created a tsunami, whereas Yoong and I had made a sudden squall. When Rita wasn’t looking, I snuck out and hailed a taxi.

When I arrived at the apartment, I surfed TV channels. There were only five because the rent didn’t include cable—channel 1, soccer, 2, a telenovela, 3, a gossip show, 4, another telenovela, 5, a Catholic channel. Nursing a double shot of mezcal, I kept a watch out of the front window. 1,2,3,4,5, Lucia has a story to tell, 1,2,3,4,5, there’s nothing on.

Another text arrived: Inbox (2) Where are you, my love?

My fingers hovered over the touch-pad, yet I didn’t have the answer.

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