Getting Even Pt 03

In the weeks that followed, I had time to think about Kira and me. She'd made me very happy - I knew how much effort she'd put into pleasing me. Now I worried about it. Was she some sort of submissive? A pleaser? And if she was... so what?

We communicated by email (texting seemed too superficial). Video calls all felt horrible. We did three of those, and I inevitably felt worse afterwards - fully erect, and nowhere to go. All those calls did was to remind me of what I'd lost.

Kira let slip that she might be able to come home for Thanksgiving. It wasn't even the end of July, and she was talking about October.

Anita invited me up to her cottage again. It sounded to me like a pretty clear invitation for more than water-skiing and euchre. I wasn't ready for that. I was still thinking of Kira, but I also considered Marco. He wouldn't be too thrilled if I went up there and hooked up with his ex-girlfriend so soon after she'd dumped him.

I wasn't blind, or stupid, either. Anita was incredibly hot, and she was sending out pretty clear signals that she and I might make some beautiful music together. But Marco would have hated my guts - and I wouldn't have blamed him.

Even Luke wasn't completely over her - and they'd only had a one-night-stand. Marco was still among the walking wounded, though, and I wasn't about to make his pain any worse. Kira wouldn't have been too thrilled about it, either.

I had mixed feelings about Anita, anyway. Maybe

I

wasn't over the fact that she'd banged Luke the night before I was going to ask her out.

Then Millie called.

- "You may not believe this," she said, "but... I'm getting engaged."

- "You're kidding! You found him? Rich

and

good-looking? Wow, Millie - I'm happy for you."

- "You're a sweetie, Ben." she said. "Can you come to my party? Next Friday?"

- "Tell me where and what time - I'll be there."

- "Awesome. We're going to have

so much

fun." said Millie. "Umm... there might be a few girls there who want to meet you. Hope you're okay with that."

- "Ahh... can't complain about that." As far as introducing me to her friends went, Millie was batting.500.

***

Millie's fiancé was loaded. He had a

fucking

mansion. Marble everywhere, massive rooms, an Olympic-size pool. Who needs all of that? This guy had money to burn - and I could smell the smoke. Millie had already told me that he wouldn't even be here tonight, because he had to fly to Belize on business. Belize? On business?

- "Ben!"

Millie was thrilled to see me. She was also well on her way to getting thoroughly wasted. That saddened me, a little; I'd been hoping to ask her few things about Kira.

- "You have to come with me!" said Millie. She grabbed my arm, and took me on a freakishly accelerated tour of the place. A kitchen fit for an Emperor (or two), marble bathtub, Olympic-sized bedroom. Millie was clinging a little too tightly, pressing her small boobs against my arm.

She was also fading quickly. She must've started drinking far too early. This was no place for yours truly. But Millie needed a good friend - and she needed her now. I got her up onto the massive bed, and made sure that she was lying on her side.

- "Stay here." I went looking for help. Was it just luck - or destiny? The first person I ran into that I knew was... Anita.

She'd done something to her hair. She was also wearing a skin tight top, that showed her incredible body to full advantage. She smiled at me, and threw her shoulders back.

- "Millie needs you." I said.

Anita's face changed immediately. "Oh - shit."

- "She's drunk. Or high. She's completely out of it. Anita... you have to keep her away from everyone else. And make sure she doesn't choke if she pukes."

- "Okay, Ben - I'll do it." said Anita. "For you." I led her to the enormous bedroom. Millie was sleeping peacefully. Well, snoring peacefully.

Anita turned to me. "I've got this. Don't worry about it." Then she smiled. "But I need to talk to you, later. Okay? You're not leaving or anything, are you?"

- "No." I'd really just arrived - and I wasn't about to take off without making sure that Millie was alright. I had a feeling that I knew what Anita wanted to talk about - but I couldn't dodge her forever. Plus it would've been cold to skip out after she'd just agreed to help me with Millie. I was mildly annoyed, though: why was she looking after Millie

'for me'

? Why not take care of Millie because she was her friend?

I stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I needed a little time to think. That, and a beer.

The kitchen area was weird. There were two attractive women critiquing the decor, and comparing notes on what they'd learned from Fashion TV and the Home Renovation Channel (or, Property Porn, as I called it). Shallow bullshit garbage.

To get away from their horrific conversation, I snagged a beer from the fridge (plus a second, to save myself a trip) and went out to the pool area.

It was a beautiful evening. I had time to consider some of the great philosophical questions of our time: who needs a house this big? How long would it take to clean the whole place, from top to bottom? Is it okay to have sex with your ex-girlfriend's friend? Does the answer change if said person is

also

your buddy's ex-girlfriend?

The answers can be very elusive. Beer helps. Well, it doesn't hurt. No one interrupted my musings, so I returned to the kitchen and helped myself to another couple of beers. I sat down on a marble bench, with my back to the house/fucking mansion, and admired the view.

I missed Kira. She wasn't coming back, though - not in the near future, if ever. Anita was broadcasting on all channels, but... I just couldn't go there. My two best buddies would be justifiably pissed off at me,

and

it would hurt Kira's feelings. That was it; that was what I'd tell Anita. It would have been easier if she wasn't wearing that skin-tight top, and if I didn't owe her one for coming to help Millie so quickly.

Yeah, I know: she was helping her friend.

At my request

. I estimated my odds of getting out of here without having sex with Anita at around... 60%? Then my lower brain kicked in, and asked

why

I would want to avoid that.

- "Hey, cutie."

That wasn't Anita.

Light brown hair. Incredible grey eyes. Nose, lips... absolutely beautiful face, with a little cleft in her chin. Ridiculously tight body.

Millie was a beauty. A 9. The hottest girl I'd

ever

been with, or ever would be.

This woman was a 9.1.

Her face was mesmerizing. She was wearing a tight little dress that said 'Hey - look at me!'... and I didn't see how anyone could not have. It barely covered her pussy, revealing long, shapely legs. Legs I'd seen before - at Millie's birthday party.

- "Carla?"

- "You remember me? That's so sweet!" Carla sat down beside me, and put down a glass of champagne next to my beer. Beers.

"How are you, Ben?" she asked.

She remembered my name. Now, I was no 9.1 - that was for damn sure. I'd never really understood why Millie had singled me out, that night. Maybe she was tired of filet mignon and wanted to try some macaroni & cheese for... nostalgia's sake?

Why on earth would a fox like Carla remember my name? It made no sense.

- "Just enjoying the view." I managed to say. "How are you?"

- "Good, now that I've found you." she said. Honestly: her voice was like a sauna. I felt hot and sweaty just listening to her talk.

- "

Me

?" I remembered that I'd said the same thing to Millie, when she'd plucked me out of that disco/nightclub.

- "Of course you." said Carla, with a breathy giggle. "Don't sell yourself short, Ben. Millie said you were awesome. And that bitch Anita can't wait to sink her teeth into you."

Bitch? That was a bit much. I thought they were friends. No - wait. Anita didn't like Carla. Were they rivals? Frenemies?

Carla pulled out a baggie. "Share a joint with me, pretty boy? I don't do that hard stuff, but... can you roll one up for us?"

I could, and did. It would have been un-chivalrous not to.

"You have hidden talents, don't you?" said Carla. "Millie's no size queen or anything, but you must have been something special. What did you do to her?"

- "Ahh... I don't know."

- "You can tell me the truth, Ben. She said you couldn't dance to save your life - it must've been something else."

I felt Carla's hand on my thigh. I was trying to gather my scattered wits. Was she serious? I couldn't tell what she was after - okay,

that

I knew. But why? I wasn't even remotely in her league.

- "Oh - look." Carla looked back at the house. I turned around, but couldn't see what she was referring to.

- "Turn around." she said. "Sit facing the house."

- "Uhh..." I had no good reason not to. I spun around on the marble bench.

Carla stood up, and then straddled my legs.

"Did Millie tell you that I'm a

great

dancer, Ben?"

I didn't remember any such conversation. Millie hadn't said word one about Carla. It didn't matter. Carla was happily astride my thighs, grinding against my growing erection.

Really? She wanted me to fuck her by the edge of the pool, in full view of a dozen party guests? Okay, there was no one else out by the pool, just at that moment. But there were tons of people who could be looking out the patio windows, or who could come outside at any moment. Carla was nuts.

That brought to mind a famous saying from my college years: 'Don't stick your dick in crazy.' Of course, they hadn't been talking about a super-hottie like Carla. A 9.1. Who was going to resist

that

?

Carla didn't stop at grinding. She unbuttoned my shirt, and ran her hands over my chest. She brushed the tips of her polished nails across my nipples. As her hands dipped lower, I used the last of my willpower to stop her - well, to slow her down.

Carla stood up again. She grinned at me, and then peeled her tight dress over her head.

She stood in front of me with nothing but a thong - and there wasn't a whole lot of material covering her pussy. Carla straddled my thighs again, and resumed her dance. That is, her grinding.

I had a mostly naked supermodel sitting astride me. She was small-breasted, supple and graceful - and I was harder than a rock. There was only a tiny scrap of material separating Carla's steaming, moist pussy from the overstretched fabric of my pants. I swear, I could feel the heat of her straight through my pants.

Yes, I had the urge to unbutton, yank down my zipper, and plunge my full length into her. I wanted to fuck her into oblivion.

But there was something... off. You may find this hard to believe, but insanely beautiful women don't often jump on my dick by the pool at the mansion (with a party going on inside). It was a really strange situation, and there was something

odd

about Carla.

She managed an impressive dismount, and spun around - wearing nothing but her heels and that thong. Then she planted her ass on my lap, and began having some sort of seizure. She might have been dancing. Or she might have been twerking.

Then she settled down, and resumed lap dancing, grinding her ass and pussy on my erection. Does it count as sex if you come in your pants? I was close to doing just that.

- "Aah!" said Carla. It was an expression of deep satisfaction, but it didn't sound like a sigh, or a groan. There was no trembling, or even a muscular contraction. It didn't sound - or feel - like an orgasm.

It was bizarre, though.

Weird.

Carla lifted her ass off me, twirled her hips twice more, and then stooped to pick up her dress. She slid it back on.

I was completely bemused. I must have looked like a slack-jawed idiot.

- "Thanks, Ben. Gotta go. My boyfriend is waiting for me." She smiled - just like the cat that got the cream (even though I hadn't quite creamed yet). "If I'm ever single again, I might just give you a call."

With that, she spun on her heel, and sauntered away.

What the hell?

What had just happened

?

I buttoned my shirt back up, and turned back to the view (keeping my back to the mansion). I had plenty of time (and almost a full beer) to try to pull my head out of my ass.

What was that all about?

As far as I knew, I'd never done anything to piss Carla off. She had no reason to want to blue-ball me. Even if she had... why pull her dress off? She'd shown me pretty much everything - and most of her lap grinding had been pretty serious.

That

had been no mistake.

I finished my beer, and decided that I had absolutely

no

idea what was going on. I was tempted to finish Carla's champagne, but it was warm, and tasted like piss.

Time to go, then. I didn't want to get wrecked at Millie's party, and make more of a fool of myself than I already had. Oh, crap... how many people had seen Carla's performance? Was there video? That was all I needed - video of me drooling like an idiot while Carla danced on my package.

Time to get out of here. Even in my confused state, I remembered my priorities. First, check on Millie. Second, apologize to Anita and promise to talk to her another day.

Millie, as it turned out, was sleeping soundly, with another friend watching over her.

- "You're Ben?"

- "Umm... yeah."

- "I'm Janice. Millie said that she'd introduce me to you tonight. Guess she sorta did." Janice was cute, with pretty blue eyes, but her annoying giggle was like reverse-Cialis.

- "Umm... wasn't Anita here?"

- "Yeah. But she asked me to take over for her. She hasn't come back, yet."

- "When was that, Janice?"

- "I dunno. Half an hour ago? 45 minutes? I'm not sure."

Shit.

***

I called Anita the next day. Twice. She didn't answer. I called Millie, too. She didn't answer, either.

Millie finally called me back late Sunday afternoon.

- "Ben?"

- "Millie? Are you okay?"

- "I'm fine. Thanks for asking. And... thanks for looking after me - at the party."

- "Forget it." I said. "I'm just glad you're alright."

- "Ben? Can you meet me for a coffee, tomorrow? Better yet - can you come over here?"

- "Of course I can."

Millie was a sweetheart. We'd hooked up once (for reasons I still didn't fully comprehend). The sex was amazing. Then she'd introduced me to Anita, and Kira. Anita was probably the perfect woman for me, but I'd ended up with Kira - which I did

not

regret.

Maybe it's easiest to say that Millie and I liked each other. On her side, that translated into a cute desire to fix me up with her friends. There was no denying, though, that she'd complicated my life, just a little bit.

Millie looked fine - none the worse for wear. Her fiancé had a $3,000 coffee maker - not that I could tell the difference.

- "Thank you, Ben." said Millie.

- "No big deal." I said.

- "It was to me." she said. "Somebody put Rohypnol in my drink."

- "What?" I was horrified.

- "Thank God you arrived when you did." said Millie. "I was completely out of it."

- "Do you... do you have any idea who...?"

- "Not yet. But we will. My fiancé is a bit... paranoid. There are cameras everywhere. I've already got a good idea of the chief suspect."

- "You do? Do you need help -?"

- "No. Thanks, but... it's all under control. It's nobody you know. And my boyfriend is taking care of it. We don't want any... publicity, you know."

- "Geez, Millie. I'm so sorry." I said. But I was also wondering if they had cameras over the pool area. Of course they did. I was fucked.

- "Don't be sorry, Ben. You took care of me when I was vulnerable, and passed me on to somebody I could trust - who passed me on to someone else I could trust."

- "Janice?"

- "Yes, Janice." Millie smiled. "I think you'd like her, Ben. I was going to introduce you two."

I couldn't help cringing. "The giggler?"

- "There's more to her to than that."

- "Not sure I could get past the giggle." I said.

- "Okay. But that's not why I called you over. I mean... I wanted to thank you."

- "No need. You're welcome, Millie. End of story."

- "Not quite." she said. "I also had to deal with a couple of calls from Anita."

- "Oh. She...ah?"

- "Oh, yeah. She couldn't believe that you would fuck Carla right there, next to my pool."

- "

What

? Wait - Millie, I didn't. I know it probably looked bad, but there was no... penetration." I stopped talking. My defence was pretty lame.

- "Did you know that Anita can't stand Carla? Those two

despise

each other. I've tried to get to the bottom of it, but it's

bad

." Millie shook her head. "Anita was coming out to have 'the talk' with you, and -"

- "

The talk

?" I thought that I had a pretty good idea what she'd been about to say, but... Millie knew it, too?

- "Come on, Ben. You had to know that she's been crazy about you since the day you met - at the backyard party - and all thanks to me, I might add."

- "Are you serious? She's got a damn strange way of showing it."

Millie looked surprised by my sudden anger. I decided to tell her all about it - especially since she seemed to know so much already. I told her about buying the Marlies tickets, especially for Anita, and then finding out that she'd fucked Luke.

- "

What?

" Millie couldn't believe it. "Ben - she thanked me, like, six times for introducing her to you. On the Monday, at work, she wouldn't shut up about you. And you're telling me that she went home and banged Luke? Wait - are you sure that

Luke

was telling the truth?"

- "Why would he lie?" I hate to admit it, but Millie had me wondering, for a moment.

"That's not all, though." I told Millie about my relationship with Kira, and Anita's attempts to upstage her - or, at the very least, to remind me of how much better a match she would be for me - at Millie's birthday dinner, and then we she invited us up to the cottage. Actually, I remembered that Anita had invited

me

, rather than Kira.

She'd also organized a schedule of activities that would appeal to me and her, while excluding Kira. Then there was the headboard banging in the next room. That hadn't felt like an accident, either.

Millie sighed. "I don't think you knew, Ben, but Kira had tickets to a musical that weekend. She was going to take you to dinner, the show... you know, the whole nine yards. It was meant to be a surprise - and then you brought up the cottage thing. Kira said that you sounded totally excited."

- "She gave up the musical to go to the cottage?" I said. "She told you this?"

- "She gave me the tickets." said Millie.

Damn. I felt like an idiot.

"That girl was crazy about you."

- "I know. I felt the same about her."

Millie poured herself another coffee, and offered me a refill, which I accepted.

- "She's gone, though." said Millie. "The question for today is: how do you feel about Anita?"

- "I don't know."

- "If it helps at all, I know that you didn't fuck Carla."

- "You do?"

- "Cameras, remember? I watched about four times, from two angles. I mean, it's pretty hot - and that was

one hell

of a lap dance. I'm keeping a copy for my boyfriend - that's how hot it was. But we can make it clear to Anita that you didn't bang her worst enemy, right about the time that you should've been talking to

her.

"

- "Hmm."

- "That is, if you want to."

- "She's pretty angry, is she?" I asked.

- "Hide the scissors angry." said Millie. "I'm going to have bring along the video evidence to prove it to her. But watching that lap dance again will probably set her off. You might want to wear a bullet-proof vest."

- "You're kidding, right?"

- "Yeah. Mostly. It's up to you, Ben. Do you and Anita have a connection? Is it worth clearing this up for her?"