Love For Rent (2 page)

Melanie looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. “I didn’t sign a contract that said I can’t make love to him.”

“Tough shit,” Junie spat. “The party started before you got here. You knew the deal when you moved in with us.”

“Junie, you’re a bitch. Every morning and nearly every evening you make love to me. At least twice a week, Michael’s in your bed servicing you. It’s not fair. We want to have, you know, normal sex.”

“Too fucking bad.” Junie put down her sandwich and strode to a birch tree at the side of the clearing, her bare ass twitching provocatively. Turning, she leaned against the tree, churning her ass cheeks into the rough bark.

“Come on. Tie me up. Do your worst. Make me change my mind. I know you won’t hit me,” she shot at Michael. “So how can you make me change my mind? I have a pussy, but you
are
a pussy.”

Michael arched his eyebrows and looked at Melanie. Yes, he loved his wife. But since Melanie had moved in with them two months ago, he discovered they were a good match. The result was an intense longing for penis-in-vagina sex—strictly forbidden under Michael’s chastity contract.

He walked to his daypack and removed a pair of handcuffs and a nylon strap, the kind you snug around a suitcase so it doesn’t fly open on the airport luggage carousel. Hefting the cuffs, he approached his wife. Junie’s jaw jutted defiantly.

“Tough bitch, huh?” Michael said. “Meanest hombre west of the Pecos, is that right? Put your arms behind you.”

“Fuck you,” Junie snarled, and pushed her hands behind her back. “You gonna fuck me? Oh, I forgot. You’re peepee is in a cage. So you gonna splash me with cold water?
Tickle me
?”

Michael cuffed her wrists behind her and wrapped the nylon belt around her waist and the tree, snugging it tight.

Junie seethed, her small breasts jutting, her narrow hips churning, the cleft between her legs prominent below her abundant bush.

Melanie got up from the table, picked up the flat container full of water and walked over to her.

“What’s that?” Junie looked puzzled.

“Our crayfish collection,” Melanie said. Fewer than a dozen of the miniature lobsters darted around the container, about eight inches square. The largest was two inches long. Most were about an inch.

“They’re fascinating to watch in the stream,” Michael said. “They’re incredibly fast, too. See, they swim backwards. Took a while to catch these.”

“Giving up vegetarianism?” Junie sneered.

“I’m not going to hurt them. Catch and release, that’s my motto.”

Junie looked quizzical, but didn’t say anything.

Melanie handed the container to Michael, who held it up so that Junie could see. “Watch,” she said, and put a finger in the water. The crayfish scattered. After a moment, a large crayfish darted around her finger, retreated and came back. Chomp!

“Tickles!” Melanie said, pulling her finger out. “Actually, ouch!” She made a face and waved her finger in the air.

Michael moved close to Junie. “You like lobster, right? You certainly ate a lot of lobster on that trip to Maine before we got married.”

A cloud passed over Junie’s eyes.

“Here, Junie, you try it—oh, I forgot. You’re tied up,” Melanie said, taking the container out of Michael’s hands and holding it in front of Junie at eye level.

“I’ve got it!” Michael said. “She can still play with the crayfish, even while she’s handcuffed.” He grabbed his wife’s hair and pulled her down, bending her at the waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snarled.

Melanie dropped to her knees and held the open container under her. As Junie, helpless to resist Michael’s grip on her hair, was pulled down, her breasts swelled and nipples hardened as they descended toward the water in Melanie’s hands.

“What the…
Michael
, let go…”

Junie’s breath came fast and shallow. She couldn’t kick, because she’d slide down the rough bark of the tree and scrape her ass and back. Her nipples were about an inch from the water when Michael stopped.

“No! No!” Junie yelled. “They’re wild animals! Not my tits!”

“Tough hombre, huh?” It was Michael’s turn to sneer. “A bowlful of little crawdads. Listen to yourself.”

“They’ll bite!”

“Not if you break the contract.” Melanie’s voice was hard.

“Fuck you!”

Michael pushed down Junie’s head until her upper torso was parallel with the forest floor. Melanie lifted the container higher toward her chest. Junie’s nipples touched the surface of the water.

Her scream echoed off the rock walls behind the stream.

Melanie, startled, looked at Michael.

“Let her scream,” he said. “Nobody’s around. We’re miles from the trailhead, and it’s the middle of the week. All she’ll do is scare away the deer and attract coyotes. And maybe a bear.”

Michael watched his wife’s tits as they stirred the surface of the water. The crayfish darted around.

“Oh, Michael, please!” Junie begged. “Michael, don’t…”

A large crayfish landed upside down on Junie’s right breast and slowly walked toward her nipple.

Junie mewled like a trapped animal, her body quivering. “I can feel it! It’s crawling! Oh,
god
…”

The crustacean reached her tiny
areola
and stopped. It waved its claw toward the red nipple and then…

Junie screamed again. Michael held her head down with both hands as the tiny lobster made a lunch of Junie’s nipple. Her scream devolved into sobs as Melanie repositioned the container under her breasts.

“Let’s go for her other tit. But check between her legs first.”

Melanie set the crayfish container down and pushed her hand between Junie’s legs. “My god, she’s soaked!” She reached back further to her ass. “Her cheeks are wet. She’s got juices running down her legs!”

“I think you like this, dear,” Michael drawled softly into her ear. “I think crawdads on your tits turn you on.”

Junie sobbed and blubbered as Melanie lifted the container and the inflamed tips of Junie’s breasts reentered the water…

“No! Stop!” Junie yelled between sobs.

“What did you say, tough guy?” Michael said, pushing back Junie’s hair, revealing her tear-streaked face. “Had enough?”

“Just stop…” Junie choked. She was bawling. “Okay! Yes! Just stop!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can have him.”

“Please, dear, could you be a little more clear?”

“The contract’s over. Please, let me stand up.
Please
!”

Melanie stepped away as Michael released Junie’s head. She shot up, her breasts dripping water.

“Where’s the key?” Melanie asked.

“Wait till we’re home,” Junie said between sobs.

“Michael, grab her head.”

“In the top pocket of my pack!”

Melanie retrieved the key to Michael’s cage and fell to her knees in front of him. “Shorts off,” she ordered.

He pushed them down. His cock was red and straining inside the cage. Melanie unlocked it and tossed it into the trees. She took Michael’s cock, now fully erect, into her mouth.

“Bitch! You bitch! Sucking my husband’s cock and I can’t even touch myself!”

They ignored her. His cock popped out of Melanie’s mouth, and she started stroking him.

“How long since your last draining?” Melanie asked.

“Month or so.”

Melanie pumped harder, her other hand cupping his balls. He was facing Junie, still writhing against the tree, straining the strap, as the other woman masturbated her husband. He bent is knees as pre-cum seeped out of his dick. Flecks flew off as Melanie beat him off faster and faster.

Michael exploded, his splooge arcing out in long, white threads that landed on his wife, hitting her stomach, breasts, face and hair as she thrashed. “You fuckers! You’ll be sorry!” she screamed. A final shot of cum hit her in the eye. Junie sobbed

Michael helped Melanie to her feet and kissed her. Turning to Junie: “Stop crying,” and he released the strap and handcuffs.

Junie shot to the other side of the clearing, wiping semen off her face, then clutching her breasts in both hands.

“You bastards! You hurt me! I was bitten! Right on my nipple!”

Melanie walked over to her and pushed her hand away. “I don’t see anything.”

Michael stepped up and examined her breasts. “Excuse me, Junie, but you come back from a weekend with Gordon with bite marks all over your body, including your tits. And your pussy so sore you can barely pee, much less masturbate. And that time with the black eye.”

“That was an accident.” She had stopped crying and was wiping herself down with a towel she had pulled from her pack. “Four people on a bed and sometimes, you know…”

Michael gave her a sour look.

“Fuck you. See you at the car!” Junie turned and stomped off.

“It’s the other way,” Michael shouted.

She reversed course and walked back across the clearing without a glance toward him or Melanie. Picking up her pack, she stomped down the trail.

Melanie threw her arms around Michael. “When do you think she’ll remember that she’s nude?”

“Trust me, she couldn’t care less.”

“I suppose it’ll be lovely trip home in the car.”

“She’ll get hungry and horny, then apologize. She always does.”

Melanie set down her suitcase and looked around the living room. Things had changed since she left three days before to visit her parents in Ohio.

Junie was slumped in a chair, a hand to her brow. Michael sat opposite her on the couch, his head back, staring at the ceiling. Newspapers and magazines littered the coffee table and the floor.

“Uh,
hi
?” she asked tentatively.

No reaction.

“Something…
wrong
?”

“Have a seat.” It was Michael. His head was still back. With a tremendous effort, he righted himself and stood. Picking up a newspaper from the coffee table, he thrust it into Melanie’s hands.

“’Head librarian in sex scandal’?” she read. She looked up. Michael was back on the couch.

“Keep reading,” he said, looking at the ceiling.

“’The chief of one of the city’s largest university libraries was arrested last night on charges of statutory rape, sodomy, oral sodomy, indecent exposure, and moral turpitude,’” Melanie read. “Oh, shit.”

“’Oh, shit’ isn’t the half of it. Go on.”

“The 28-year-old woman, whose name is not being disclosed because the victim is a minor, was arrested last night in a city park performing a sex act on a 17-year-old boy, the driver of a delivery van. The woman, viewed on security cameras in the delivery bay of the library less than 20 minutes before her arrest, was observed performing oral sex on the victim.”

Junie spoke. “How can a 17-year-old get a job driving a two-ton delivery van? Will someone explain that?”

Melanie, on the couch next to Michael, shot to her feet. “How can a 28-year-old woman give a guy a blow job at work? Answer me that!”

“Hah!” Michael exclaimed. “And in the nude? And then, when she hears a security guard approaching, jumps in the van—still nude—which her new fuck buddy drives to the park, where Junie proceeds to bonk him!”

“You fucked him in the park? In the nude? In the back of the van?”

“You had to be there.”

“Oh, god, Junie.” Melanie collapsed on the couch.

“Look at these newspapers,” Michael said, spreading his arms. “It even made page three of the fucking New York Times.” He threw his head back.

“So what happened?”

“I had to bail my wife out of jail.”

To Junie: “What about your job?”

“What job?” Michael said. Junie lowered her face to her hands and began to sob.

“Junie is no longer a professional,” Michael said in a flat tone. “She was fired. No severance. No vacation, because we used that up. No health insurance. No doctorate, which was only a year away, because of, you know, moral turpitude. And no reputation. Or, to be exact, no kind of reputation that would allow you to, say, earn a living.”

“I’m sorry, Melanie.” Junie’s voice was muffled by her hands.

“You’re sorry?
Sorry
? You selfish, evil, self-indulgent, evil…” Melanie sputtered.

She rummaged in the pile and picked up another newspaper. “’Library chief offers expanded services’?” She looked up, bewildered. The grainy picture below the headline showed a woman on her knees between the legs of a man in a dark uniform. She was nude. A black bar hid her buttocks.

“The university’s student newspaper is having a field day,” Michael said to the ceiling. “They even got the fucking photo.”

Melanie looked up. “Do you have a lawyer?”

“Yes,” Michael responded. His phone buzzed and he read a text message. “Hold on. Here’s a faint glimmer of good news. Turns out that the guy is twenty-one—just barely—and had lied to the cops about his age. So it looks like the most serious charge will be dropped.
But
, it’s a little late. The damage is done.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Sleep in your car? Because in two weeks, all our money will be gone.”