By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2008 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Jarvis Street stood in the Airport Limousine’s queue, relieved to finally find herself one elderly couple away from the front of the line.  More fatigued than impatient, she needed  to get into a car and get on with what she had to do.  Another part of her wanted to get into that same car and drive to some yet untraveled place, never to return again.  Caught in that dichotomy, she stood stock still, willing herself not to scream. 

The couple first in line suddenly turned toward her. 

“Help us settle a bet!”  the burly fellow spouted.  “I think you’re a movie star.  I can’t remember what movie you been in, but I’ve seen you interviewed on television.  My wife says I’m crazy.  Which one of us is right?”

The wife, looking self-conscious and embarrassed, said, “We don’t mean to intrude, but you’re so striking  . . ..”

“Do you want a limo or not!” an impatient voice snarled from the rear, saving Jarvis from giving the answer that had already formed in her mind: “Your wife wins. I’m nobody.”

“Perhaps we could give you a lift,” the man said, gathering his things and heading for their car.  “We’re going right downtown.”

“No thanks,” Jarvis said, picking up her overnight case.  “There’s one right behind yours.  I’ll grab that one.”

Jarvis was in the second limo and heading out before the couple were even settled in their car, before she noticed her driver.  Some coincidences are amusing, painful or just plain amazing in terms of probability.  This fluke was all three because of all the drivers on planet earth, this was the same mature and gracious driver one who had picked her up at home and driven her here, one mere hour before.

“Where to, miss?”

“535 Pears,” she said, “same place, same station.”

“Very good,” he said, steering deftly into the stream of exiting traffic.

Jarvis settled into the plush seat with one long exhalation.  Earlier, she had called for the limousine and gone to the airport for one reason only.  It was her habit to travel out of town for dance workshops or competitions and she always took a limo, preferring to leave her own car in the condo’s secure garage.  The excursion served her plan.  Her husband Brian heard her call for the car.  Her husband Brian walked her to the limo, carrying the suitcase she used for weekends.  Her husband Brian was thoroughly convinced that she would be away judging the final All American Dance Factory until Monday.  And that was the whole point.  It was all a ruse that she made sure that Brian believed. 

At the airport, she had bravely ordered a full breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, but didn’t eat a thing.  She sat over coffee for an hour thinking thoughts as dark as the strong black brew she was sipping.  She knew it was wrong to play games, but she didn’t know what else to do.  The very idea of her husband being unfaithful was so painful and abhorrent that it paralyzed her.  “You must uncover the truth,” she told herself. “Everything you and Brian have is based on it.”  She’d forced herself to move and now,  here she was, on her way back home with the most ominous feelings about what she’d find when she got there.

She pulled out her compact and checked her make-up.  She couldn’t believe how normal she looked.  Her wild raven locks had been brushed into submission and lay, a tidy but generous bun, at the nape of her neck.  She didn’t wear much make-up, but what she wore enhanced  her large brown eyes and finely sculpted cheek bones.  She realized that she was suffering the emotional equivalent of a dentist’s physical freezing.  Internally everything was blocked, numbed and disoriented, but the external perspective was one of complete normality.  She checked her watch.  7:30 PM.  She’d be home in fifteen minutes. 

Jarvis tried to relax.  Brian had spent the whole week in court arguing a very tough case.   Maybe she’d find him on the couch, sipping a beer and watching one of his favourite films.  Maybe her best friend Laura was in her own home, with her own husband, watching their favourite movie.  Enticing possibilities, but Jarvis didn’t believe either scenario.  The tension in her neck and the threatening nausea in her stomach suggested another story.  And  she didn’t have to ask herself when the foundation of her life had begun to crack, to invite in all this pain and discomfort.  She knew the day.  She knew the moment. 

Jarvis and Laura were having lunch.

“Don’t you get restless sometimes.  You’ve been married for ten years.  Don’t you feel like tasting a little something else?”

“Something else is not on my menu,” Jarvis laughed.  “Brian and I are committed.  Monogamous.  End of story.”

“Speak for yourself, girl.  You never know what these men are up to!”

Their conversation had turned to other things, but long after they parted company, Laura’s comment returned again and again to torture Jarvis.  What had Laura meant?  Why hadn’t she, Jarvis, asked her what she meant?  Because her fear of the answer had sent shivers down her spine.  Because, apart from the words, there’d been a smugness in Laura’s tone that echoed from the past.  Being Jarvis’ best friend hadn’t stopped the teenaged Laura from hiding one of Jarvis’ shoes, just before she had to go onstage to compete.  Nor had it stopped Laura, years later when they were doing a show together, from trying to seduce a chorus boy she knew Jarvis was interested in.  Laura had failed  in all her efforts so far, but success was only one effort away.  There was always a first time.  Jarvis looked out of the window at the passing cars.  She fought back tears.  She’d been labouring under the illusion that Laura had long outgrown all that adolescent rivalry, but apparently not!  It was still there, lurking behind Laura’s words: “Speak for yourself, girl.  You never know what these men are up to!”

And then of late, there was Brian and the distance forming between them.  A strange  distance in which something iniquitous could grow.  Something that, if it existed, needed to be excised with surgical efficiency.  And as soon as possible.  The limo stopped in front of her condo.  She signed for the ride, adding a generous tip, and walked into the building with her overnight case.

She could hear her own heart pounding as the elevator whirred to the top floor.  She took long deep breaths as she walked along the hall, trying desperately to still her mounting anxiety.  One swipe of her entry card and she was standing in her own foyer.  Her icy palms were the palms of a bumbling thief poised to commit his first ill-conceived robbery.  Determined, she left her bag near the door and crept stealthily down the hall. 

She heard them before she saw them.  The sounds were coming from the living room.  She took out her phone and stood silently in the doorway recording her husband and best friend fucking so deliberately that they didn’t even realize she was there.  She checked the images.  They were as clear as a bell.

A naked Laura stroked Brian’s balls, as she gobbled his cock between her freshly rouged lips. 

She wants to stain him, brand what isn’t hers to brand. 

And doesn’t she know that he prefers lingerie to bold nakedness? 

Doesn’t she know how much he loves to be teased? 

He’ll never last, you stupid cow. 

He’s used to so much more finesse.

A naked Laura, her bright red lipstick now smeared across her face, climbed on top of Brian and began to ride him like a horse thief escaping the town sheriff.

Jarvis didn’t have to wait long before Brian came.  Laura’s heavy handed ministrations  delivered much more immediate pleasure than he could withstand.  He was done, but he was not satisfied.  Nor was Laura.  The fools.  They’d each freely shared all of their sexual needs and proclivities with her and what she‘d just captured wasn‘t what either of them craved.  Laura was making tiny, artificial cooing noises that told Jarvis that the bitch was happy just to be fucking the man that was not hers to fuck.  Brian, she knew, after coming with Laura, was feeling more loss, desperation and emptiness than he’d ever felt in his life.  How much had he given up for how little?  His torture was just beginning.  Her pain had fully constructed a windowless prison cell and locked her inside.  She had no idea how she’d ever free herself from it.  So, Brian would have to take care of himself.  For the first time since they married, he was on his own.  And he didn’t even know it.

Jarvis moved quickly and silently, making her escape without incident.  Outside in the corridor, she walked close to the wall, as if afraid she might collapse.  A neighbour was waiting at the elevator, holding it open for her.  She tried to quicken her step, but she couldn’t properly feel her legs.

“This has been one beautiful day,”  the woman enthused.

“My work has just begun,” Jarvis said soberly, tapping her suitcase. 

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

Outside, she was grateful for the gentle rain.  It misted her in anonymity, bleeding in concert with her tears.  For no reason, she turned north, marching with military purpose, a purpose leading her nowhere.  She knew that she had to stop, that simply walking would not solve anything.  She was approaching Settlers Inn, a graceful small hotel that spoke of gentler and more elegant times.  She went in and headed straight for the bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“A bottle of Scotch.  The good stuff,” Jarvis said.

“A bottle?” the incredulous bartender inquired. 

“Never mind,” Jarvis said.  “I’m going to book myself in.  Room service will take care of the rest.”

That’s exactly what she did.  She got a room, tipped the bellhop who insisted on carrying her weekend case, and as soon as she could get rid of him, flung herself on the bed and wept and wept and wept.  She tried to think, but she couldn’t.  Her thoughts kept breaking up like the jagged shards of a breaking mirror, a breaking life.  Finally, the tears dried up, leaving Jarvis with her cold, relentless intelligence.

How could he?

How could she?

How could I have let it happen?

But, she realized, she hadn’t let it happen.  She hadn’t even been consulted.  And that made Jarvis mad, very mad indeed.  In no time flat, room service had delivered a twenty-five year old bottle of Glenfarclas.  She was usually very careful with finances and knew that her extravagant Scotch and hotel package would set them back a few hundred quid.  But the money and Brian’s annoyance would be an almost negligible down payment on what she’d eventually make him pay.  Thoughtfully, Jarvis sat on the bed nursing her third drink, the first two having been imbibed without ceremony, in several huge gulps. 

“What do I know?” she asked herself, and the answer came quickly.  “I know that I still want my husband.  I don’t know if I want to maintain a relationship with Laura.  I know that I want them punished.”

“How do I punish them?” she asked herself next.  And the answer was a plan and it came fully formed. 

She called Phillip, an actor and Laura’s husband.  They had all been friends for a very long time and Laura bragged often that she’d hooked and kept The Love Machine.  “Well we’ll see, won’t we,” Jarvis said to herself. 

Phillip, it’s Jarvis ...No, I didn’t go away … I need to talk to you.  Settlers Inn, room 666 …No, Brian isn’t here and I didn’t ask for the devil’s own room, as you so call it.  It was foisted on me, but I’m comfy as can be.  So come on down … Okay, see you in an hour.

Jarvis’ forced gaiety, even for the length of a phone call, exhausted her.  She wasn’t a bit drunk and she understood why.  Her body was housing too much misery for the alcohol to have any real impact.  And the pictures flashing through her mind, images of them, guaranteed her sobriety.  Maybe a shower would help.  Jarvis took off everything, but her bra and panties, and stood in front of the antique three-sided standing mirror that closed off one corner of the room.  She saw the reflection of a fit dance instructor with her hair in a bun, her massive breasts spilling out of the lacy white bra that her costume designer had made especially for her.  She began to stretch, Luigi style, one sensuous arm and hip at a time, bending, lengthening, teasing.  She reached behind herself to undo her bra.  Her huge tits first expanded, but when freed, collapsed under their own weight.  She ran a manicured long nail over her nipples.  They became aroused, extending themselves with pleasure.  Brian loved them.  Was obsessed with them.  Adored them.  Were it not for him, she might have considered a reduction.  Huge breasts were very difficult for a dancer to work with.  But she would have never even considered depriving him of the pleasure they gave him.  Never. 

“Bastard!” 

She took off her underpants, freed her hair, and headed for the shower.

Jarvis needed time out from the agony that was lodged too tight in her throat.  She wondered if she were experiencing the onset of a heart attack.  Or maybe a stroke.  She really didn’t feel well.  Restless and rabid, the terrors raced through her, ravaging more and more of her soul. 

How could he? 

She turned on the shower.  Hard.  She brushed her dark curls away from her chiselled face.  Water.  Inviting.  She raised her magnificent breasts up to receive the cool spray.  The deluge rushed over her, stinging her nipples, turning her into a woman aroused.  Yes.  Feeling better.  She adjusted the settings.  Took the massager from its hanging place.  She eased herself down in the tub and spread one long leg over the side.  The tub was cold on her back and ass, but her hot pussy was anxious and squeezed hot pre-cum from its lips.  Jarvis rewarded it with a pulsing spray that spread the lips, pounded against her eager, growing clit.  She moved her hand away.  Took the spray away.  Jarvis squeezed her legs together and then quickly relaxed them.  IT was close.  IT was beginning deep inside, so deep, so big and so relentless that it cleared her mind and took her breath away.  It began, wave after wave of such power, such pleasure that Jarvis was transformed.  She was a cat in heat.  She knew her purpose.  To come.  Now.  “I’m coming!”  The scream echoed around the lonely room.

After a few minutes, cool reason took over where passion had reigned.  Jarvis got up, finished her shower and dressed in a pair of slacks and a T-shirt.  Right on cue, there was a knock on the door.  Jarvis opened it, a devilish smile on her face. 

“Come into my parlour,” she whispered.

“What’s come over you,” Phillip laughed.

Jarvis kissed his cheek and, pulling him by the hand, led him to the chair beside the bed.

“About ‘what’s come over me’.  I wish I didn’t have to tell you, but I do.  First, I want you to trust me and have a drink.”

“Water and ice,” Phillip said, his nose flaring like a horse sensing danger. 

Jarvis mixed his drink and poured herself a Perrier.  “That bottle started out full, so I’ve had my quota for now,” she explained.  “I just need to tell you my inglorious tale before I lose my nerve.  I had lunch with Laura last week and she suggested, veiled as it was, that I shouldn’t trust Brian.  I know them both so well.  After that, every interaction with either of them made me uneasy.  Everything had changed subtly.  I sensed that I was on the outside of something big between them, so I made sure that both of them thought I’d be away for the weekend.  Refill?”

“I think I’d better.  Give it to me straight over ice,” Phillip said.

Jarvis made his drink and then forged ahead.  “I found them tonight, on the living room floor, in flagrante delicto.  I taped them.  They didn’t see me.”

“I want to see the video?”  Phillip’s voice was frail.  He’d aged in minutes.

“You can, but I’m advising against it.  Once seen, you can’t un-see.  Don’t punish yourself with that.  You don’t deserve it.” 

“Neither do you.”    

They sat quietly for awhile.  Jarvis called room service and ordered some fruit and snacks.  “Put a rush on it.”  She bustled about, giving Phillip time.  She had seen his tears.  “Would you mind signing for the food while I visit the washroom?” Jarvis asked.

“No problem,” Phillip said.

Phillip deserved time.  Phillip deserved privacy.  “My phone’s right here if you still want  to see that abomination with your own eyes, but I still hope that you don’t,” Jarvis said, before escaping into the bathroom. 

Sooner than later, Jarvis heard a door open and, before long, close.

“It’s here,” Phillip called out.

The two friends sat at the tiny table nibbling portions of fruit, cheese and pâté.  Jarvis was busy pouring glasses of a less than modest Pinot Noir when she said, “I’ve had so much longer to process this thing.  Let me tell you why it was so critical that I share this  with you.  I believe in equality in a relationship.  Justice.  Before I agreed to marry Brian, we talked about these things: whether the relationship would be monogamous, whether and when we wanted kids, what he thought about me travelling.  All of it.  I told him that I could live with any commitment we decided on, as long as the commitment honoured both sides equally.  He chose monogamy and now he has broken my trust.”

“I really admire you, but I can’t think straight.  Laura and I didn’t discuss any of those things and we should have.  We’ve been married for two years, but I don‘t feel like I know Laura.  I’m away filming a lot . . .,” his voice drifted off.  

“Don’t start blaming yourself.  Give yourself time to really think.  I’ve had time to decide that my love and respect for Brian goes way beyond this indiscretion.  We’ve been through so much over the years.  I still want him, but he’s taken us to a new place.  Without consideration.  Our relationship is no longer monogamous.  I have to accept that. I’m an equal partner in an open marriage and that’s where I need help.  From you.  I need to accept, in a real way, my open marriage.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Phillip asked.

“What I want to do is to make sweet, sweet love to you and film it, just as I filmed their uninspired routing, and then it’s show and tell time.  I want to put it all out there.  Jarvis Street presents her first and hopefully last film, All Things Being Equal.”

“Fuck, Jarvis.  Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.  But it doesn’t have to be you.  You’re my first choice, not my last.”

“But, suppose it was Laura who came on to Brian.  She’s my wife, but she’s always been jealous of you.  That’s most likely the way it happened.  Maybe you’ll be able to forgive Brian and things can go back to the way they were.”

“I’ll have to learn to forgive him, but monogamy is like pregnancy, Phillip.  You are monogamous or not.  You are pregnant or you’re not.  Both are clearly defined states.  There’s no way back to the way things were.  My marriage is simply no longer monogamous.” 

Phillip looked at Jarvis for a long time.  “You’re quite something,” he said, “and after all, I’m an actor.  Don’t you dare cast anybody else in my role.  Actually, I have a top of the line camera in my car.  Might as well make use of it.”

“Then go get it.  And when I’m through with you, you won’t need any

acting skills at all.  There’s no reason not to have fun with this.”

“Right,” Phillip said, bounding through the door.

He looked so sad trying to look happy.  Gutted, really.  But there was nothing Jarvis could do for him except to continue with her plan.  She opened her little suitcase and took out the teddy that she had bought last week.  “Just for you,” she had promised Brian.  They were supposed to have one of their nights as soon as she got home. 

“You’re going to wish you’d waited,“ she whispered.

 She creamed her skin with a lotion that hinted of fresh lemons.  She squirted perfume behind each ear and deep into her endless river of cleavage.  The cut out teddy was black net except for the strip that covered her pussy and continued up to the center portion of the black lacy bra.  Her olive skin rose and fell, falling just short of exposing her nipple.  Her abundant curls lay over her shoulders and fell down her back.  She was now in control of herself.  She walked over to the mirror.  In it she saw an incredibly beautiful woman, a woman prepared for a seduction.  She looked good.  She smelled good.  She slipped into the see through robe and slipped her feet into the stiletto mules.  Phillip was, at heart, a romantic.  Just as Brian was.  Jarvis smiled.  Laura was so far over her head.  Jarvis didn’t blame her any more or less than she did Brian.  The truth was that they had both betrayed her and they would both feel the consequent pain.  She and Phillip would make sure of it. 

Phillip’s gentle knock made Jarvis smile.  He was truly a wonderful guy.  None of the self centeredness often attributed to actors described him.  He loved his craft and it showed on the screen.  Jarvis opened the door and Phillip stared open-mouthed.

“Get in here,” Jarvis laughed.

“You look . . . I’m speechless,” he said.  “I don’t know what to do.”

“Set up the camera and then forget it‘s there.”

Jarvis stretched out on the bed.

“Shall I take my clothes off?” Phillip’s face was flushed and evidence of his arousal was clear in the outline of pants and balls bursting at the seams of his jeans.

“Come over here,” Jarvis instructed.  “Take off your shirt.”

Phillip took off his shirt and lay down on the bed beside Jarvis.   Jarvis ran her fingers over his chest and then over his belly to his thick hard cock.  She massaged it through the material of his jeans, grinning lasciviously for the camera.

“What has made you so hard?   What do you see that you like so much?”

“Everything,” Phillip gasped.  “You’re magnificent.  And your tits!”

“Do you like them this big?” Jarvis asked.  She ran her fingers slowly over the great expanse of her breast flesh.  “Look at them.  Take out your cock and show me how you pleasure yourself.  How these make you feel.”

“I’m shy,” Phillip said.

“All the better.  Take that cock out for me.”

Jarvis leaned over Phillip, her humongous breasts spread wantonly between them.  She traced his earlobe with her tongue.  She caressed his face as though she were blind and had to see with her fingertips.  She kissed his neck.  She could feel him as he began to stroke.  She looked down.  His cock was longer and thicker than Brian’s.  Good.  Brian loved to have his cock sucked.  He said she was really good at sucking cock.  Well, all that goodness was now going to be visited on Phillip.

“My turn,” she said.  “I want your cock in my mouth.  I want you to feel real good.” 

Jarvis twisted around on the bed.  The camera was now trained on her tits and Phillip’s big cock.  She took his cock in her hands and stroked just as Brian had taught her to do. She loved Phillip’s groans and gasps.  Loved that the pleasure caused him to stretch his legs and point his toes.  She began to lick the rim, just as Brian had taught her to do.  And she took her time.  She concentrated on his sweet spot, stopping when Phillip threatened to come.  She used her hand and mouth in concert.  Her lips and teeth to tease.  Always stopping to present her breasts, to squeeze her tits together.  To bury his face between them.  Phillip’s face was suffused with pleasure, just like Brian’s would have been.  She circled the underside of his balls, squeezing as she licked, and sucked him into her warm and wet mouth.

“I’m going to come.  I’m going to come,” Phillip moaned.

Jarvis released him and climbed onto all fours as Brian loved for her to do, always in front of the mirror so he could see.  Just as the camera would see.  “Come,” she invited Phillip.  He mounted her from behind.  He moved slowly, skilfully and soon Jarvis began to feel that familiar urgency that would soon threaten to devour her.  Phillip quickened his pace.  She pulled at her nipples, arousing herself further.  “Fuck me, Phillip.  Fuck me harder.”

Jarvis licked her lips wantonly, for the camera, for Brian.  She wet her fingers and began to work her clit.  Brian would know how aroused she was.  Brian would see her pleasure, see his friend’s big cock thrusting in and out of her.  She began to buck against Phillip with abandon.  She was fucking two men and she loved it.  Her clit was hard and burning with excitement.  Muscles deep inside her were beginning to pulse to a primitive mating beat.  They bucked and howled until they collapsed into each other, as they fell over the edge.  In the absence of passion, they held each other close.

“I’ll turn off the camera,” Phillip said.

“Thank you,” Jarvis whispered.

“No, thank you,” Phillip said.  “I don’t think I could have handled this without you.”

“Or I without you,” she said.  “Is there anyway you could put the two sequences on one camera?”

“Yes, I can transfer the other from your phone.  Which one do you want first?”

“Theirs, of course.  As performances go, they’re definitely the warm-up act.”

Phillip laughed and they chatted as he worked with the camera and they both got dressed.

“I wonder if they’re still at the condo?”  Jarvis mused.  “What plans did you and Laura have?”

“None.  As far as I know, she’s off judging some other contest.  Like Brian, I thought I was alone for the weekend.”

“So this was definitely planned.”

“I guess so.”

“Well, it’s going to stop.”

Jarvis checked out of the inn.  “First time I’ve ever booked a room for a few hours,” she laughed.

“Well, if you ever want to do it again, please call.  I’ll even audition.”

They were quiet during the walk over.  As they entered the building, Jarvis checked her watch.  12:07 AM.  She waited  until she was outside the door to call.  Brian sounded tired and irritated when he answered.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” Jarvis said, just before she opened the door and walked into the condo.

There were a lot of scrambling noises.  Laura and Brian were still in the living room and had been obviously watching a movie.  Laura was frantically buttoning Brian’s shirt over her bra and panties and a bare-chested Brian in jeans mumbled to himself as he walked in tight manic circles.

“Not fancy meeting you two here,” Jarvis said.

“Jarvis …,”

“Shut up Brian,” Jarvis barked.

“Phil,” Laura started.

“Shut up Laura,” Phillip said.  “We have something to show you.”

He connected the camera to the television screen and pushed play.

Jarvis watched Brian watching.  Noticed his quivering lips all through his performance.  When the main event started, he could hold on no longer.  Brian burst into uncontrollable, wrenching sobs.

“Get dressed and let’s leave these people alone.  You’ve done enough damage,” Phillip said to Laura.  “Take off Brian’s shirt and go get your things.”

Laura crossed the hall to Brian’s study and Phillip kissed Jarvis’ cheek.  “If you need me for anything, I’ll be at the inn.  I need time to process all this.  Are you alright?” Phillip asked, glancing at Brian who was bent over double on the couch, still wailing his misery.

“As right as I can be, under these circumstances.  And thanks again, Phillip.”

Laura walked back into the room carrying a suitcase identical to Jarvis’.  They’d bought them together on one of their work trips.  “Jarvis, I didn’t mean …,” Laura started.

“I can’t talk to you right now,” Jarvis said, cutting her off.  “And take next week off from work.  I don’t want to see your face in the studio.”

“But I’m your partner.”

“That was when you were my friend.  Now, I’ll remind you that I own the studio, you’re simply my employee.  And I’m this close to firing you.”

“I suggest we leave,” Phillip said, hustling her out the door.

Brian’s grief reached in and grabbed Jarvis’ heart.  He had fallen to the floor and was curled into a fetal ball of regret and misery.  Jarvis sighed   She had no idea how hard it was going to be to build something important again.  She just knew that it would take two.  She lowered herself onto the floor and gathered Brian in her arms.