The Healing Power of Leather

Eva tosses back her head of dark curls, exposing a milky throat taunt with rapture and expels a torrent of curses. There are three of them. A trios, entangled in the ruffled bed, shiny with gossamer sweat, panting and clawing at slippery flesh. Eva suddenly cries out and spits another stream of lustful obscenities at the ceiling. Her violent orgasm travels down her rippling spine and thrusting hips, directly up the shaft of the man she straddles. Phillip moans, grinding up against Eva and pulling the other woman’s head tight against his chest. He cries out as Monica’s teeth close down savagely on his left nipple. His body goes rigid, then bucks wildly as he explodes. Sated, Eva and Phillip turn on Monica, licking and stroking. They pause over her supine form to suck her juices off each other tongues. Together, they bring the wanton blond to her own rushing climax.

The threesome relaxes as their bodies cool and their breathing returns to normal levels. Eva noisily rummages for her cigarettes. She begins searching for her lighter in the wash and tumble of the bedclothes. Monica finds it on the headboard. She clicks it open and smiles warmly as Eva leans into the flame with a long, dark cigarette. The blond playfully tugs on one of Eva’s small carmine-colored nipples as they swing toward her.

“You started again?” Phillip’s voice rings out, ripe with disappointment.

Normally brash and husky when fucking, Phillip’s post-coital voice takes on a nearly nasal whine that Eva can already feel creeping up on the edges of her nerves.

“Shut up, Phillip.” The response is cool and curt; minimized diction delivered in Eva’s distinctively ambiguous accent. Fucking or not, Eva always talks this way.

A dark goddess of some deep European origin, Eva is all shadows and angles. Waif-thin and pale, she is a sharp contrast to the honey-colored Monica, who is ample and curvy. Soft and yielding, Monica possesses heavy tits that Phillip loves to bounce and suckle on greedily. But, it is really Eva that Phillip loves to fuck the most. Phillip's desire for Eva borders on near obsession, obliterating any real contest for his affections between the two women.

It is this bit of truth that Monica ponders, hours later, as she sits sipping her drink. She knows that she will always play second fiddle to Eva in their bizarre relationship. While Phillip always takes great pains to distribute his attention evenly between the two women, there is no ignoring the reality. They had started as four and were now three. Monica had once shared the same powerful connection the thick-bodied, ill-fated Raymond that Phillips does Eva.

The thought of her deceased lover causes Monica a moment of nostalgia and an audible sigh escapes from her lips. She runs one lacquered nail along the rim of her wine glass and muses how well the chilled chardonnay will mix later with the two sleeping pills in her pocket. The thought comforts her. Monica glances up, having noticed the prolonged silence and notices Heddy staring at her critically.

“What is it?” Heddy asks, her eyes pinched with concern.

“Oh, I’m just tired." Monica says, knowing her childhood friend will never accept the lame excuse.

“You know what your problem is?” Heddy asks.

Though Monica can venture a guess, her friend proceeds to answer her own question.

“You need to go out more, meet someone. Get laid.” Heddy says.

Heddy does not know about Monica’s social arrangement. Her long-time friend has only met Eva and Phillip once at a party and had quickly voiced her disapproval of the pair. She would never understand nor approve of the activities between the two couples or the arrangement that had continued after Raymond’s sudden departure. Sensing another lecture from her friend, Monica suddenly wants nothing more than to go home. She longs for a long, hot bath where she can unwind in the steam and soak her aching sex. Monica can not wait to slip beneath the soapy surface and welcome that familiar, echoing silence.

"Okay Heddy. I know I need to get out more but between work and the book, when do I find the time? I haven't even managed to find the time to get Raymond's things out of the house.”

Her confession makes Monica’s heart lurch with fresh guilt. She has to make time to clean house, to get his clothes and books to goodwill. It has been over a year now and she still lives among his things like ghosts. How often has she bumped into an old jacket or his golf bag and torn open the wound in her heart all over again?

Heddy's face softens, "I won't nag, I just never see you smile and you had so much passion. I mean, don't you miss contact?”

Monica finishes the rest of her wine, stands and gives her friend an apologetic smile. "Goodnight Heddy, thanks for dinner and the drinks. My treat next time."

Heddy watches her leave, wondering when her beautiful friend was going to start living again.

Five and half minutes later, Monica is cruising home, her mind wrapped around thoughts of Raymond.

Monica and Ray had been high school sweethearts. Nine years into their picture book marriage, at a time when most of their friends were in the mist of painful divorces, things began to get stale. Rather than go the way of the other couples they knew, they decided to experiment. In their youth they had enjoyed the kind of sex a person would crawl across broken glass for. They both believed if they could tap into that passion again, their intimate bond would be renewed.

After much discussion, Raymond and Monica stepped gingerly into the local swinger’s scene, as "watchers" exclusively. After trying a few swinger clubs, they found that the voyeurism injected a heat and an excitement into their sex life that they remembered well from days of past. The couple found that occasional forays into this taboo world were just enough to keep things fun, fresh and passionate. It had been their openness to this new lifestyle that had to their led to meeting up with Phillip and Eva.

Raymond had been introduced to Phillip through a mutual friend on the golf course. The two got to talking during the game and found they had a lot in common, including an interest in the "lifestyle". One thing led to another, and suddenly there Monica and Ray were, on their way to pick up the couple up at the marina where they kept their small sailboat. Raymond had repeatedly asked Monica if she was "okay with all this," as he'd tied their boat up to the dock. Monica had asserted that she was, at least she had hoped she was.

A younger looking couple called out and waved from the dock. Their arms were draped about each other comfortably, free hands shielding the sun from their eyes. Raymond smiled and signaled them over. Phillip's face erupted in a grin as he dropped into the boat and turned to help his partner down. He had a medium build, thin beard with sandy hair and sparkling, friendly blue eyes. Monica thought he looked tanned and pleasantly weathered around the mouth and eyes.

Eva was a startling contrast to her sun-kissed partner. She was cool and pale, exotic and, Monica thought, very lovely. She seemed to stalk when she moved and spoke with a strange accent. She introduced herself to Monica first. She allowed Phillip to present her to Raymond, and shook his hand with a detached but polite expression. Eva turned at once back to Monica.

"This is a beautiful ship or...boat? I don't know what you call it. We have got a small sail ship ourselves, quiet but not very fun.” Eva’s last words rushed out, accompanied by a small pouting of her cherried lips.

The basic introductions over, Raymond advised everyone to grab a seat while he untied from the dock and got the boat pointed out into the open water. It was difficult to talk while the boat was moving. Monica settled into the deck chair and nodded encouragingly to the couple, seated a little conspicuously at the back of the boat. A few times throughout the trip, Eva jumped and screeched as the spray hit her arms or face. Finally, she stood and shed the gray-blue windbreaker she was wearing, revealing a flawless ivory skin which seemed almost translucent swathed in the black one-piece bathing suit. Monica found she could not help but stare.

Raymond was soon slowing as they approached a thickly wooded island. Raymond set the boat into neutral and invited Phillip to take a cast or two, telling him that the bluefish and stripers were running. Phillip eagerly snatched up the rod Raymond offered and began to set up for a cast. Monica allowed herself a moment to admire the curves and veins in Phillip's arms as he launched the lure out into the blue sea and began reeling fiercely. The popper created a little splash on the surface. Eva watched Phillip with only mild interest.

"It's meant to look like a wounded fish. It attracts the game fish." Raymond explained to Eva.

He pointed to a spot about fifty feet from the stern where the water seemed to roll and boil, "Those are all bait fish jumping because the blues and stripers are underneath, feeding."

Eva looked bored.

"Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine? margarita?" Monica offered.

"I'd love a margarita." Eva said, following Monica down inside the cabin.

Monica handed Eva a frosty margarita. She took a large, nervous gulp of her own and waited for Eva to say something more. After a few awkward minutes, Ray yelled down to them, "We're heading to the south side of Sandy Point, you girls best come up and grab a seat."

A short trip had deposited them on the calm side of a long, narrow band of land. Raymond set the anchor about twenty-five feet from shore. To her surprise, Eva put her drink down and without a moments hesitation, stripped down to her suit and dove off the back of the boat. She surfaced few feet away, waving.

"It’s great! Come on, Monica. I want to see the beach."

Monica shyly removed her sweatshirt and shorts, all the while conscious of both men watching her. She slipped over the edge and began swimming with Eva toward shore.

Eva’s feet found the bottom first and they trudged through the surf to the shore. Monica pointed to the dunes. They found the narrow path that snaked up and over them. The women made their way through sea roses and bramble to the soft sand beach on the other side. Eva cooed contentedly as her pretty feet sank into warm, white sand. The ocean was bright blue and sparkling under the mid-day sun. The waves rolled to shore in small swells. It was a few minutes before either woman spoke.

"This is nice, Monica."

"It’s one of our favorite spots."

"No, I mean, this day. It’s nice to get out with friends." Eva bit the end of the last word off, "We are going to be friends, aren't we?"

Eva’s words were so hopeful and suggestive, that Monica felt her skin flush. She turned to Eva and found the woman staring at her intensely.

When Monica said nothing, she continued, "I like this beach and your Margaritas. I like your Raymond and I like you Monica. I think I could like you very much."

Eva smiled and ran one hand from Monica's elbow to her shoulder. Her fingers gently traced her jawline from her chin to her earlobe.

"I..I mean...we like you and Phil too. It’s nice to have another couple to do things with." Monica stammered.

She had not meant to sound leading, but Monica feared she had been exactly that.

"I love being with Ray, but its nice to have someone else to talk to," she added quickly.

Perhaps sensing Monica's discomfort, Eva turned back to the ocean.

"Let's go in, Monica," she said.

The women floated in the waves. They talked about everyday things, little conversations that bubbled and bounced along easily between them. By the time they climbed out of the water and made their way back to the boat, they seemed to have established some kind of budding friendship. The same was true; it appeared, of the men. Raymond and Phillip had even seemed slightly disappointed to find their women had returned.

It was starting to cool off considerably. Monica vanished into the cabin and returned in an old faded sweatshirt, about four sizes too big. Eva had remained in her suit. She was perched on Phillip’s lap, engaged in a conversation with Ray. Phil absently stroked her alabaster thigh. He slid one finger up inside Eva’s suit, then retrieved it with a loud snap of lycra. Eva seemed not to notice. Monica did however, and she stepped in closer to Ray. She could not ignore the hard outline of Eva's nipples through the fabric or the gooseflesh that prickled her lovely arms. The conversation continued for a few more minutes before Ray announced that it was getting late and they needed to head back to the dock.

By the time they reached the slip, the sun was setting. The sky was a brilliant slideshow of pink and orange-tinted clouds. Monica had tugged on jeans and was a little more than half way to drunk. Eva had dressed too but seemed remarkably more sober than she had before the four margaritas she had consumed. Ray had turned on the radio while he and Phil washed down the boat. The girls sat side by side on the end of the dock, their feet dangling just above the water's surface.

"You and ray should come over to our place next weekend. We'll have cocktails and cook on the grill. Ray already has the directions."

Eva's invitation had blind-sided Monica and she merely nodded in agreement.

Later on the ride home, having sobered up enough to recognize the importance of Eva's last words, Monica asked, "Eva invited us over; she said you already knew the way to their place?"

It had sounded enough like a question, to turn Ray's head.

Monica pressed on before he could answer, "Have you been there before, to their place?"

The accusation seemed to dawn on Ray then. "No, I haven't. Phil told me on the boat, while you girls were at the beach. He invited me for cocktails and BBQ."

Monica felt a twinge of unease, "You mean, earlier today? Like, before we had hardly spent any time together?"

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ray asked.

"Nothing, only, they must have made those plans before they even hung out with us."

“Monica, why does that matter? What's the big deal? Don't you like them?"

Monica admitted that she did and dropped the subject. She didn't know what she was feeling and besides, Ray's hand had drifted across the seat, finding the warm spot between her legs. She giggled, noticing his erection straining against his shorts. Monica stroked him gently over the material, delighting in the way he sucked in loud breaths and pressed back up against her palm. After parking the truck, Raymond chased her, growling up the stairs and through the door. He grabbed her waist and dragged her down to the floor on top of him, tugging off Monica's jeans and sweatshirt, biting at her breasts through the swimsuit.

Raymond rolled her over on her back, pulling her suit down off her shoulders and past her hips with one hand, holding the back of her head off the floor with the other. He buried two fingers deep inside her, moaning loudly when he found her already wet and ready. Raymond held on to her hips as he pulled back, and then plunged into her with his full weight. Monica rode the wave of that first dramatic thrust, and then began rocking back and forth on Raymond’s throbbing cock. Their clothes pooled around her feet and the hardwood floor was cool where it met her naked flesh.

Completely aroused, Monica thrashed, her pussy vibrating around his thrusting member. Raymond threw his head back and came inside her so forcibly that it drove her back onto the floor. He stayed hard, rocking her through her own crushing orgasm. It was some time before they untangled their bodies. Monica decided that the boat trip today had inspired the best sex they'd had in a long time, sex like she'd remembered. She decided that for better or for worse, Phil and Eva had started something up again for the two of them, and that was a very good thing.

It wasn't until two weeks later, moored of Goat Island, that things had really gotten started between the couples. It had been a perfect night with the stars sparkling and the tide running in beneath the bow of the boat. The wine had flowed freely between all four of them for an hour. Monica and Eva were dancing together in slow circles. The men watched them, taunting and teasing. Phillip and Raymond's playfully jeering turned to husky whispers as the women got closer and closer to each other.

Eva had reached out and pulled the string for Monica’s bikini top, slipping it off with one cool and practiced motion. She swayed in closer, cupping Monica's large breasts in her bird-like hands. Eva leaned in, nuzzled her neck and slipped her tongue into Monica’s mouth. A fire emptied into Monica's belly and she snaked her arms around Eva, clutching her ass and kissing the woman back.

Dizzy from the wine and the new sensations, Monica barely felt Raymond behind her until he slipped off her bottoms and began to lick her pulsing sex. As his tongue run expertly up and down her dripping slit, Eva’s warm, wet mouth eased over her nipples, igniting flashpoints of pleasure throughout her body. Phil stepped behind Eva, buried his face in her neck, his fingers joining Eva’s mouth on a pilgrimage across Monica's trembling flesh. They all moved below in the cabin. The men took their turns with each of the women. The four of them passed much of the night, licking, sucking and fucking in a hedonistic fervor.

Snapping back from those memories, Monica slid down into the lavender scented bubbles of her bath. She closed her eyes. Monica felt hot tears slid down her cheeks. She reached for the bottle on the floor, clanking it noisily against the porcelain as she tugged it up and took a long pull from it. That boat, that blasted boat, everything had started and ended with it.

Raymond had gone to gas the boat before what was to be one of their last outings that summer. A line cook, just getting off shift at the casino had fallen asleep at the wheel. His jeep woody had jumped the divider and careened straight into the highway service station where Ray was filling up. Her husband had been pinned between fiberglass and metal when the woody had slammed into the back of the boat. The impact had crushed him. Killed him instantly.

Monica reached again for the wine bottle. Finding it empty, she began sobbing hoarsely. Not bothering with a robe or towel, she climbed out of the tub, and still dripping, stumbled into her bedroom. She missed Raymond so much. No one understood how much. She feared she would never have that love, that intimacy with someone again. Her grief came in anguished waves. Lonely and desolate, Monica thought of the one person she thought could bring her comfort. She snatched up the cordless phone and automatically punched the glowing numbers. Her call was picked up on the second ring.

In a shaking voice Monica asked, “Eva, can you come now? And, Eva, can you please wear your leather?”