The Glass House

The Return-2

Home. Humm.

Hard to believe the place had ever been my home.

I was shaking, almost on the verge of collapsing as the past swept through me in one single gust of remembrance. Whether Tony was actually aware of my fragile condition, I don’t know. But I was grateful when he led me by the arm through the kitchen and the dining room, then into the Lodge’s main room.

He motioned me to one of the smaller leather arm chairs that were sitting before the fireplace – I believe it was the one I claimed when I lived there. Cozy, but not so massive that it swallowed me whole, as the other overstuffed easy chairs would do. He poured us each a glass of whiskey and after handing me my drink, he sat in the chair to my right. On the table before us was a large folder of paperwork. I shuddered at the sight of it and what it meant, dreading the hours ahead.

I would have rather spent the evening getting a little drunk and sharing stories of our shared past. That I could have dealt with. Though that was definitely a bad idea. Tony might not have admitted it, but I could feel within the generous hug he offered me outside, the same delicious arousal that had made us lovers for a time. A familiar burning sensation rose up through me. With very little effort, I could have shed my clothes and crawled to him on hands and knees, then run my hungry hands over his lean and muscled body. I imagined taking Tony’s hand and rising from the floor, pulling him with me. I would lead him up the staircase to the first available mattress where, within in minutes, he would have f****d me as hard and dirty as he had before.

“Carrie…” I heard my name and suddenly sat upright, shaking the fantasy from my mind. The chemistry between Tony and me always leapt beyond what was prudent, and it was doing so now. I knew with a fair degree of certainty that he would have joined me if I’d made a move.

I took a breath. I took several breaths.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Drink your whiskey and settle yourself. This is just paperwork.”

Oh, what he didn’t realize…was my response to that. But I said nothing.

“You know, the glass house need not remain,” he said. Hearing the comment, I jerked in my seat and turned to meet his eyes.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can sense what you’re thinking.”

Really? Was it possible he sensed my arousal?

“Yes, well, it is a bit of an eyesore now. But there’s no reason it needs to stay that way. I have money now. Right? I could restore it.”

“That you could,” he agreed, though he sounded doubtful. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to get this business settled first.”

“Sure. You’re perfectly right.” I sat back, took a sip of whiskey and settled in for the long and boring discussion of finances.

Over the next two hours, I found it difficult to keep my mind on business. Images of Tony and me from the past continued to come to mind, causing a flutter in my belly that was distinctly s****l. The flirtation. The meaningful eye contact. The private joke, the suggestive body language. Just like old times. Thankfully, I was smart enough to stop myself from acting on the urge to be with him. This was not thirteen years ago. Times had changed. Tony had a wife he loved at home. I had the man I lived with back in Minneapolis. Tony and I would not be reliving those naughty, s****l episodes. They might be a fine fantasy for bedtime m**********n, but the circumstances of our lives were far different from those days, when Damon’s robust vitality and inclination toward s****l perversity caught fire amongst his odd company of close friends. For me, that wild s*x life turned my idea of marriage on end. Damon and I tossed aside the traditional rules for that holy institution. We made up our marriage as we went along, allowing our hedonistic desires to lead us into pleasures only few adventurous sorts would dare attempt.

I was caught up in a world that thumbed its nose at convention and normalcy. That world was a little bit bad. A little bit wicked. And utterly entertaining.

The Orgy

My scandalous, naughty, imprudent s*x life began with an orgy …

We were all a little drunk and a little stoned…in the great room of Damon’s Lodge celebrating the success of his latest adventure. A cozy fire blazed in the fireplace – that beautiful monstrosity of a fireplace. The usual crowd was there: Tony, Liam Rudy and even Jerry, who had flown in from Dallas that morning. I’d met them all shortly after Damon and I married, and we’d entertained them at the Lodge, either singly or as a group, on several occasions.

Damon brought out his specialty homemade pizza from the 700 degree brick oven. He was in his element now, the room fixing intently on him, as was the custom during these impromptu gatherings. He was as charming as ever that night. The story of his latest adventure would be told in a way that had us laughing or in awe. Sometimes both. However, on that particular night, his zealous energy seemed to wane toward the eleventh hour. I’d seen it coming on earlier in the day. Although we’d only been together two years, I knew the signs of his fatigue far sooner than most. Irritation. Weariness. The pregnant sigh. However, if I should mention that maybe it was time to go up to bed, he’d quickly deny that he was tired and the party would go on until he finally ended it. Not before.

In the evening with the blazing fire casting its mellow light on the area around it, the room became quite cozy – a masculine sort of cozy. There was nothing frilly about the rooms in the Lodge. Shortly after Damon moved me into his home, I introduced a relatively sedate bouquet of flowers just to soften the intense masculinity. They were promptly relocated to my bedroom, where he declared that they were much better suited.

Most of that evening, apart from enjoying his amazing pizza, was taken up in the usual pursuits. Liquor, cigars, raunchy jokes, and laughter. The five men vigorously argued politics, during which Damon would take every side, never revealing where his true feelings lay. Politics was just a game to him. Not my area, he would say when confronted with discrepancies in his logic – and there were many. But no one faulted him for that.

I never quite fit into those evenings. They were all about the repartee between men, which I did not understand. Nor did I understand why his Lodge was always open to his friends any time of day or night. I never knew when I’d run into some friend or stranger helping himself to a plate of leftovers in the kitchen or find someone crashed out on a couch or watching a late night boxing match in the media room. There was very little privacy in that house, which meant that I often retreated to my bedroom upstairs, where I had everything I needed – desk, TV, bed, couch, luxurious bath and mini-kitchen – so I could avoid that late night crowd in the main kitchen. Some nights, a guest or two arrived upstairs to check on me. Sometimes, I’d let them in just to be nice. More often, I ignored them. By the time they got there, they were usually drunk, which added an element of expectation for s*x, and I had no desire to take them to bed.

On that particular night, I stayed to enjoy the effervescent mood in the room. Plus, I particularly liked this group of friends.

Jerry was the only one who didn’t live in the neighborhood – although it was common for him to crash at the Lodge for days even weeks at a time. He pretty much had a room of his own, which meant that I’d come to know him well. He’d stay until on until some whim or new idea or just because he needed a change in scenery, he’d move on to someone else’s doorstep. Not that he couldn’t have afforded a place of his own. It was said that he was worth millions.

I liked him a lot and he did adore me. So easygoing, so different from Damon in that respect. None of the bravado, just a handsome good old boy, who wasn’t all that old – about forty-five, I think. We were sitting together on one of the comfy leather couches, with me tucked into the corner, Jerry’s sparkling hazel eyes fixed on me. He was flirting. I was flirting back, teasing him with my smile, while feeling a beautiful buzz and an air of familiarity that bordered on intimate.

It took a while for me to realize that Jerry was slowly moving closer. At first, there was his hand on my knee. Then it moved to my thigh. At one point, we found ourselves staring into each other’s eyes. I watched his full lips move as he spoke to me. Don’t even remember what he said, but I had the strongest desire to lean in and kiss him. But I held back; I wanted him to kiss me first. Wanted him to kiss me so much that I could feel the desire pounding in my heart and right down to my thigh where his hand rested, softly massaging the flesh. I must have willed it to happen, though I hardly recall his approach. What I do remember is how his lips felt against my lips when they finally met. There was the taste of pepperoni and beer on his breath, and the feel of that breath against my skin. The kiss lingered for a time, while we decided what to do.

At last, with self-conscious grins on our faces, we broke apart and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at us, fixated on our tiny scene.

I felt my physical arousal bounding forward.

“Hey, sorry,” Jerry flashed a smile at Damon as he backed away from me.

There was a light in Damon’s face I’d never seen before. I could tell he was thinking, considering. “How about you kiss her again?” he finally remarked.

Soon as he said that, the fear, that had my belly clenched with anxiety, fell away.

Jerry and I both stared at Damon, wonderingly.

I believe it was Liam who offered me another drag on his joint, which I readily accepted. I certainly needed it. Soon as the drug hit my system, it slowed my pounding heart and the erotic thrill of the last few minutes.

I waited for Jerry to kiss me again, and so he did, with his hand moving to my breast.

I sighed deeply, trying to take in what was happening, but I was too far gone to make sense of it. At last, I gave in. My head fell back against the couch and my body opened to the moment. That was all the permission Jerry needed to move his hand beneath my sweatshirt where he found me naked underneath. A bit of surprise registered on his face, to which I looked back at him, smiling coyly.

In the instant that his fingers found my naked tit, the thrill of his touch raced up my spine. It tickled my crotch. Teased the top of my head. And moved through every nerve. Body buzz or arousal? I couldn’t be sure, but I was hardly thinking straight. Liquor. Pot. Desire. All of them converged at once. This is crazy! I kept telling myself. But I did nothing to stop Jerry’s advances.

From the corner of my eye I saw Tony sitting back observing. Just observing. His keen eyes riveted on the two of us. Liam, joint still in hand, moved back in, leaning over me, suddenly kissing me hard on the lips and forcing his tongue between them. Despite my continued concerns about the s****l turn this evening had taken, my mouth opened wide in reply Liam’s kiss. There was nothing to stop him or Jerry from continuing. Not one word from Damon. No sign of disapproval. If anything I saw encouragement in my husband’s eyes. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. I was high and feeling the most pleasant state of arousal. The fact that I was the only woman in a room with five men didn’t seem to faze me.