Making the Hook-Up (11 page)

“You know, that was…” I cleared my throat. My skin began to tingle and flush.

“That was what?”

“Well…that was when I knew I loved you. I mean I guess I knew it before that night but…I think that was the first time we actually made love. We'd had sex before, but that was really making love.”

“There
was
something special, you're right. We were both tired, pissed off, glad to get somewhere to lay our heads. We didn't care about what the place looked like, or that it was so small you really couldn't move without bumping into furniture.”

Lynn paused and looked up at me, running a finger along the back of my hand. “Are you serious about that? That was when you knew?”

“Yes it was. Why?”

“Just…I think that weekend convinced me that I should marry you. I knew you didn't really want to go, couldn't care less about seeing some Broadway show, and only went because I asked you to. It was really sweet.”

“Yep, that was some night.”

“I don't think we've ever been so quiet like that, either. That was part of what made it so amazing; being with you and not saying anything, just making love to you in total silence…that was just…wow…”

Lynn's hand reached down to my suddenly erect member. “So I see. I don't know how you did it, but I think this guy actually got bigger that night, if that's possible.” She waggled my dick around a little.

“He wouldn't go away either, if you remember.”

“Oh, yes I remember. I could feel you all the next day, walking around the city. You can be a greedy bastard sometimes,” she said, smiling.

I smiled right back. “I don't remember hearing any objections that night.”

“Yeah, well, I would have but…”

“But…it was too good for you too, wasn't it?” Even in the moonlight I could see her blush. “Thought so.”

Casually running my fingers up and down Lynn's arm, I looked at the wall separating us and our neighbors. “Seems to have quieted down over there.”

“Mmm,” Lynn said, her hand still wrapped around my erection. I leaned in and kissed her. The residue of the cherry flavor of her lipstick still lingered on her lips. Both were delicious.

Suddenly all the long days and weeks without sex came back in a flood of raw hunger. I wanted her desperately, wanted not to make love as we'd been talking about, but to just fuck my wife, hard and fast, to see her hair tossing and her eyes roll into the back of her head, to have her under me, begging me to keep going, to push myself deeper into her, her long legs wrapped around my waist. I wanted to turn us away from the dull married couple and back into not our former, younger selves, but into the raw rutting
animals that still lived deep in the oldest parts of our brain, that we usually try to hide. A quick flash of concern in her brown eyes showed Lynn could see what I was thinking, what kind of fire was about to be directed toward her. Her lower lip trembled and a thin line of sweat slowly meandered its way between her breasts. Her breathing began to quicken, and she pulled me on top of her. She had an animal inside she wanted to let out, too.

In the middle of our passion, I had a brief flash of Joe banging Brian's ‘high yella' back out. It stopped me and almost made me lose my erection.

“What's wrong?” Lynn asked, running her fingers down my back.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” I said, flipping her over to have her straddle me. My dick grew hard again, a vine curling into the latticework of her pussy hairs, and I slipped back into her warm wetness.

“They're at it
again
?” I asked Lynn two nights later.

She listened. “I guess so. Young people…I vaguely remember back when we were like that….”

I shot her a glance. Listening more closely, thinking I heard a repeated, hissing, “Shit, shit, oh, shit,” I said, “You know, that's not sex. I think that's a blow job.”

“You can tell?”

“Yeah.” Lynn looked at me oddly. “What can I say? It sounds different from fucking… Stop staring at me! It's a guy thing, okay? Kinda sick though, to think…I mean, I don't care that they're gay and all. They can be as gay as they want to. I just don't want to hear it, that's all. It's upsetting.”

“It doesn't upset me.”

“You're not a man, you don't have to imagine having a dick stuck in…I mean, having to suck another guy's dick or something.”

“I suck your dick.”

“Not lately.”

“What?”

“Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to say that…I mean, you know, yeah, like I know you're not all that crazy about it and that's okay. But I can still miss it, you know.”

“You don't seem to be in no hurry to take care of business with your mouth down there for me either, buddy, let's get that straight, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, well okay, so we're both…” I glanced at her and saw the weather on her face change and made an instant course correction. “I mean I'm wrong so…anyway what I was
trying
to say was, I don't like hearing them having sex. It's just creepy to me.”

Lynn put her hands on her hips. “You didn't mind it when that other couple was next door.”

“That's different. That was a guy and a girl. And they really didn't do it all that often.”

“Not in the bedroom they didn't, no.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that was funny, to be standing in the kitchen and hearing her that night….”

Lynn tilted her head back, and fluttered her eyes. “Oh, Michael!” she made her voice high and fluttery. “Oh—oh-ho, Mi-mi-
mike
-
all
!” We both laughed. “It seemed to inspire you, too. I'm still not sure you weren't thinking about her when we were together.”

“Come on, baby, I told you I wasn't.”

“Right. Tell me you weren't thinking about wanting a little somethin' somethin' every time that hoochie stepped out of the house. Those shorts she used to wear would've shamed Daisy Duke.”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it quickly. Over the
years I've learned that there are times when it's better to just let things drop.

“I think you're really a…well, I don't know what to call it. It's not a voyeur, 'cause you can't see them, but I think you like hearing sex.”

I shook my head.

“Oh, yeah?” Lynn nodded down at me. “Where did that tent in your sweats come from? Looks like you wish you were next door.”

“No, no, not at all. It's just that sound. No way am I letting some guy suck my dick,” I said, trying to push my jumping jimmy down. Damned thing really did have no conscience or sense of timing. In truth, wave the prospect of a wet mouth in front of him and he's up and ready, pretty much no matter what gender it's attached to.

“The lady doth protest too much me thinks.”

“What's that, some kind of saying your brother and his gay friends came up with?”

“No, I'm just saying…” She stroked the fabric barely restraining my raging dick. She looked up at me and licked her lips. “I'm just saying,” she said again.

I didn't have to be asked twice. I broke some kind of land speed record to get my sweat pants off. Lynn, too, moved quickly dropping her head down into my crotch while I still had one leg in the sweats.

It really had been a long time since she'd given me head, and I'd forgotten how extraordinary it was to have a pair of warm lips wrapped around your member. And guys do sound different when they're getting a blow job. There's the growl deep in the back of the throat, the jagged, irregular breathing. I nearly shouted when Lynn's lips first touched the flared head of my dick. Sighing loudly, I put a hand over my mouth, not wanting the
guys next door to hear. But then I thought
fuck 'em!
Those two seemed to have no problem giving us an aural show with their sexual gymnastics, it was about time we held up our end for the straight community. And besides, I doubt that Lynn's head would have been bobbing up and down between my legs if not for them. Maybe what I really needed to do was to thank them one day, I thought, before looking down to meet Lynn's eyes staring at me.

She smiled slightly and licked up and down my dark brown shaft. I leaned my head back. “Oh, baby, yes,” I said as Lynn inhaled my entire thickness into her mouth. She even surprised me at the end, not pulling away when I blurted out that I was getting close. There were tears in my eyes and it almost made me come again to see my cream splash across the plump ripeness of her lips.

Once, the two of them even woke me up. Brian and Joe had left the house one Saturday night, around eleven, just as Lynn and I were nodding on the couch. Not thinking we could make it through the new Tyler Perry DVD before passing out, we headed up to bed. Sometime around 3:30 a.m. I opened my eyes slowly to the sound of moaning and knocking behind the wall. But something else had woken me, too. I noticed that our bed was shaking. Moving my head slightly, I looked over. I could tell that Lynn's fingers were moving quickly under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her head back, pushing into the pillow. I wondered if she was imagining being in the room with Brian and Joe, getting serviced by two men. Or if she was just fantasizing about one of them digging her out the way one guy was digging out the other next door. She looked so beautiful it nearly took my breath away. Her pebbled nipples were hard and pointing at the ceiling through her nightgown, a thin veil of sweat covering her mocha-colored skin. She was irresistible, and my mouth watered, jealous of her searching fingers.

I slowly pulled down the sheet, trying not to make my movements too sudden to break the spell the neighbors had put her in. After uncovering her, I discovered that her nightgown was pulled up. Both her hands were at play, exploring the wet cavern of her vagina. My dick sprang to life, but that night I wanted to help her out more than to help myself, wanted to give
her
pleasure more than worrying about pleasing myself. I slid down the bed slowly, kneeling on the floor beside it and placing my head at the level of her
V,
watching my wife in search of an orgasm. Then I began, first gently caressing then licking at her fingers, lapping up her tart juices.

Lynn jumped and shook when my tongue began to lick at her lower lips. She moaned as I lapped my way around her snatch, and then stuck myself inside her. She grabbed my head, forcing my tongue deeper into her, pointing me toward her clit. I licked and sucked gladly, once again eating my favorite candy, as she held me to her with both hands. My hips involuntarily pushed against the side of the bed, my dick wanting to replace my hungry mouth, but I continued to work at eating her out. I wanted this to be completely about her. Lynn held my head tightly with her hands, wrapping her legs around my shoulders as she bucked and writhed against my searching tongue. Her legs slammed tightly against my head as she undulated when she came; I could barely breathe but didn't stop eating her hot and dripping pussy, busting my own nut against the side of the bed like a horny teenager. Through the wall behind me I thought I could hear someone say, “Oh, shit!” as they came too, right along with the two of us.

We'd been kept up at least once a week, sometimes twice, by some feral noise coming through the wall into our bedroom for more than a month. They even woke us up one Saturday morning with a sound that could have been someone repeatedly
tossing a large rubber ball against the wall. But I don't think it was a rubber ball that was getting tossed. To make matters even worse, later that day the four of us found ourselves on our front porches at the same time, Lynn and I going in, Brian and Joe heading out.

They seemed nice enough guys, and Lynn started discussing the tomato plants the two of them planned on putting in next season. But it was hard for me not to think about the noises coming through the wall as we stood there talking.
Which one is doing what to whom?
I kept thinking the whole time. I couldn't tell which one…“pitched” and which one was the “catcher.” I suppose that's kind of, well…not homophobic, mind you, but old fashioned, to think about gay men that way, but I couldn't help it. I don't think I would have known they were gay if Lynn hadn't told me about the kiss and I hadn't heard what was going on in their bedroom. They both were in good shape and probably worked out the way a lot of gay guys do now, Joe a bit more developed in the chest, perhaps, Brian with the bigger guns. I didn't want to look too closely at them as they talked to us, out of fear of thinking of where their mouths had been on each other.

Since Lynn had more experience around gay men—she quickly brought up the times she'd gone to bars and clubs with her brother and his partner, she quickly put them at ease, and they were soon laughing and joking with each other.

“What do you guys call yourselves?”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked

“I mean your relationship. What do you call yourselves? Are you lovers, partners, what?”

“Lynn!”

“It's fine,” Brian said, waving his hand. “Thanks for asking.”

“I think he has a preference for ‘
He who must be obeyed,'
” Joe said pointing at Brian.

“
Your Highness
seems to work for this one,” Brian shot back.

Lynn laughed.

“So how do you like the neighborhood?” I asked

“It's nice, pretty quiet,” Joe said as Brian nodded. “Most people seem friendly. A few have been a little chilly, but I don't know if that's because they're like that or it's because of who we are.”

“The house is nice, too,” Brian continued. “Might need a little work. You put some extra into yours, I think.”