Maxim Jakubowski - The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica. Volume 3

“So?”

“That couple over there keeps looking our way.”

“They don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Sure they do.”

“Well, fuck them,” Annie said. She lowered her head.

“Annie,” I said, pushing her head back gently, “let’s do it later. I can’t enjoy this with them watching.” I looked across the room at the blonde, who was no longer looking our way.

Annie sat upright, arranged her hair and blouse and stared across the room.

“People should just fucking learn to live and let live,” Annie commented. At that moment the waitress brought our salads.

Dinner went well. Annie ignored the woman, and as we ate we talked about everything from Annie’s job to baseball in Korea. Annie even hinted that, recently, she had been marginally involved in a triple homicide for which three of her family members went to prison.

“Would you ever kill someone, Jerry?” she asked, studying me between mouthfuls of raw steak.

The thought made me queasy, and I chokingly responded, “Not on your life.”

We finished with the house specialty for dessert and, after paying, rose to leave. Heading for the door, Annie glanced over her shoulder at the blonde, who was staring back at her.

“Forget it, Annie,” I said, pushing the glass door open for her.

We walked out of the restaurant, hand-in-hand, two lovebirds, and I figured then that the rest of the evening would consist of porn, sex, and maybe mild stimulants.

When we got into the car, just as I was starting the ignition, Annie reached over, grabbed my arm and said, “Wait, Jerry.” She pointed.

“What?” I said.

“Look.”

When I glanced up, I saw the other couple walking toward a green Mercedes in the parking lot on the east side of the restaurant. The man walked with short, mincing steps.

“I see,” I said. “So what?”

Annie laughed. “Wanna have a little fun?”

“With them?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “Why not?” Normally a staid, retiring type, Annie’s question aroused something in me. I realized that I would enjoy a little excitement.

“Why not?” I agreed. Having some fun at the other couple’s expense would bring back memories, I told myself, recalling how in junior high and high school my friends and I routinely tormented neighbours and school mates.

I started the engine and waited. Just before the Mercedes reached the exit, I hit the gas. My car shot forward, blocking the way. As I put my car in neutral and pulled on the emergency brake, Annie threw open her door, walked around my car, and positioned herself outside the Mercedes passenger door, shouting and gesturing obscenities at the young blonde. I got out and stood behind Annie.

Almost coolly, the woman got out, closed the door, and faced Annie while her boyfriend remained inside. This gave me a chance to see this woman more closely, and my heart almost stopped. She wore a blouse tied just above the navel and in a manner calculated to reveal her breasts, and skintight blue pants that left nothing to the imagination. She was gorgeous beyond words, and, as she faced Annie, licked her lips and gave me a seductive look.

“Think I’m a cunt?” Annie hissed, standing sideways, a posture a friend of mine used to assume just before he hit someone in the face.

The woman was not intimidated. “Of course you’re a cunt. You’re a disgraceful little tramp, is what you are.” Apparently a tough type, she was probably from New Jersey or Brooklyn.

Annie stepped forward and shoved the woman backwards against her car. I’d seen women fight only on film.

It was a beautiful night, I’ll confess that much in retrospect, and at the time I wondered what the woman’s boyfriend, still sitting in the car, was thinking. There was a cooling breeze, and we were far enough beyond the strip that I could see thousands of stars overhead. The moon was brilliant.

There was a long, almost predictable pause before the action began when the two women called each other things like “bitch”, “whore”, and “cunt.” My legs trembled in anticipation. After Annie said something in Korean and started to walk away, the blonde stepped forward and grabbed Annie’s hair in both of her hands. Annie turned and, in windmill fashion, swung back with closed fists, striking her adversary several times in the face.

Then Annie stumbled and, with little effort, the blonde bore her to the ground. I watched as Annie, one of her arms held and on her back, was slapped repeatedly. Annie shrieked and fought like a wildcat and did rip open the left side of the woman’s blouse. An enormous, well-shaped breast hanging out of her blouse, the blonde went into a rage and hit Annie in the face again and again and, while I wanted to step in, I decided it would be safer and just watch. Besides, as far as I was concerned, Annie was to be no more than a one-night stand.

For a moment, the women stopped, the stars seeming to spin slowly overhead. I could hear Annie gasping and lightly sobbing as she looked up at her adversary. Then as Annie struggled weakly, the blonde tore off Annie’s blouse, exposing small but beautiful breasts. Annie’s nipple rings glowed in the moonlight.

With surprising ease, the woman pulled Annie’s shorts off, revealing that Annie wore nothing underneath. Pulling Annie’s legs apart, spreading my angel’s pussy, the blonde looked at me. “This is the fresh meat you’re after, right?” she asked. I could see that the woman had a small cut over her right eye. She patted Annie’s pubic area gently as I kept my eyes on the beautiful pink slit between Annie’s legs. Then, making sure that I was watching, the blonde slowly inserted one finger into Annie, who offered no resistance and moaned like an animal. It was almost more than I could bear.

As the couple drove away, I retrieved Annie’s clothes and then walked her back to my car. As she sat in the front seat, brushing her hair out of her face, I wondered how she would handle the humiliation she had just suffered. “Well,” she said, sniffing, “I got my ass kicked that time.”

“Yeah, you did,” I said.

The fight didn’t seem to faze her much, and she used a Kleenex to dab the blood from her mouth, nose, and chest. I figured that she’d been in fights before.

Curiously, the night turned out well. By the time we got to my apartment, Annie had apparently put the fight behind her. As we undressed, face and body bruised and cut, Annie attacked me savagely, first grabbing me in her mouth and then allowing me to fuck her in any way I wanted. I learned that every hole in her body was an avenue to bliss. We never slept that night, and one week later Annie moved in with me.

For six months, we lived together and feasted off each other. I tasted every inch of her, and she tasted every bit of me. Pudding and pie became our favourite desserts because they’re easy to lick. It was a period of unrivalled sexual frenzy and delight, and often, when Annie had three straight days off, we never left the apartment. After the Christmas Eve accident three years ago, Annie moved out without an explanation, and I was left horribly alone.

And now, here she is, and here I am. Sitting at the table, awaiting Annie, I think over the past three years when I became addicted to a savage, even occasionally violent kind of sex. As one might suspect, I finally did meet up with the parking lot blonde, who could fight but failed nonetheless to rise to Annie’s standards. The blonde disappeared just six months before this night.

Top still off, Annie approaches, smilling hugely, and I have put all hesitation aside. I can’t wait to resume our frenzied, anything-goes sex.

After her shift ends shortly after midnight, I drive Annie through the desert and into the mountains. When she asks where we are going, I tell her to a special place. It’s a very cold Christmas Eve, the temperatures in the low thirties, and I’ve heard that it’s been snowing in the higher regions just outside of town.