Naked Tao (4 page)

She responded with a sharp intake of breath and leaned away from me ever so slightly. Her eyes shifted rapidly from side to side a few times as if she was processing alternative answers. Finally, she made up her mind and said, “I’m in town for a conference and wanted to see Kinsey.  We stayed in touch and are at similar places in our lives. Aren’t you at least a little glad to see me?” 

I skimmed her nude body. Damn she was attractive, but I refused to go there and said instead, “It didn’t turn out very well the last time I saw this much of you.” 

She looked surprised and said, “I’d love for us to finally talk about that.” 

I interrupted her. “I don’t want to talk about that, Ginny. I’m sorry I brought it up.” 

Ginny was stubborn enough she refused to let it go. “It’s been stewing too long, Grant. We have to talk about it sometime.” 

It was time to change the subject. “Who was the guy in the pool?” I asked. 

Ginny popped out of her chair and glared at me with such intensity I shrank from her. “Why are you so damn judgmental, Grant?” 

I didn’t know what to say to that and just glared back at her. Throwing her hands in the air she growled and said, “This is pointless.” 

I watched in utter confusion as she stomped off.  For a very long time I sat alone and thought about many things, but mostly I thought about her. 

“Nurture ecology of spirit.” – Ch’ing

I wish I could say the brooding resulted in an epiphany, but not a single light bulb went off in my head. The only conclusion I reached was that I needed to talk to both Ginny and Eric. With that thought in mind, I headed into the house. On my way there, an attractive Latina with big hair and melons on her chest grabbed my wrist. In sharp contrast to her ample chest, she had a long waist and a tiny rear end. Like most people at the party, she was au natural. I politely stopped to see what she wanted. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. 

“Where did you get that big wet spot in your lap…you find yourself a squirter or something?” she asked. 

At twenty eight I had never been with a squirter. Maybe that’s because I have only been with one woman, my wife, and she certainly wasn’t. In fact, I’m not positive she ever had an orgasm when we were together. I always had the feeling she was faking it for me. After I learned about her affair with another woman, I realized maybe men didn’t turn her on. 

Melons raised an eyebrow, so I answered her bizarre question with a question, “How long have you been doing this?” 

“I’ve always hated clothes,” she said with a wry grin. “Why don’t we liberate you from yours?” 

My stomach flipped. “Uh, sorry…but I’ve…I’ve got to go inside…umm…I’m searching for my friend.” 

She shrugged and shot me an amused grin as I retreated to the house.  Ginny was nowhere in sight. Standing in the kitchen was a couple who looked to be in their late twenties. They motioned me over. 

The man was medium height and hairless except for a cheesy goatee. He couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred forty-five pounds soaking wet. His pale blue eyes darted back and forth between my eyes and the big stain in my groin area.  I was starting to get a little self-conscious about the spilled whisky. 

His wife smiled sweetly as I walked up. She was a few inches shorter than her husband and had a full head of red hair. I couldn’t help but notice her nipples. They were exceptionally long. 

She caught me staring and said, “They aren’t even erect right now. You ought to see them when I get turned on.” 

I wanted to ask them if they had seen Ginny, but Mr. Hairless launched into a story. 

“A few days ago, a co-worker told me how he killed a twelve-point buck,” said Mr. Hairless.  “I listened politely, but hunting doesn’t interest me.” 

The back side of Eric’s house is a wall of glass that provides a view of the pool and yard. I glanced out the window and was surprised to see Ginny back outside talking to some guy.  He leaned in and touched her arm to emphasize a point. The jerk was definitely testing the waters and he was a good looking guy in a hippie sort of way. He was wearing jeans, sandals, and a Bob Marley t-shirt. His skin tone was brown, but his hair was blond and his eyes were blue. He wore his long hair pulled back into a pony tail. 

I expected her to lean away from Pony Tail, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. My jaw and stomach tightened. Ginny was obviously flirting with this guy too. I realized she was in full game-on mode and I did not like it. 

I resisted the impulse to rush out and…and what…intervene…stop her?  I had no claim on her. In fact, even though I always felt this overwhelming connection to Ginny from the time we were kids, I never acted on it. Instead, I avoided her at all costs, choosing to date Cindy, the cheerleader, like everyone expected and for whom I actually felt nothing. What right did I have to be jealous now when I had shunned her all those years ago? 

A tap on the shoulder interrupted my thoughts.  “This is the best part,” said Mr. Hairless. “When my co-worker finished his hunting story, he politely asked about my weekend. I told him we went to Nashville. Of course he wanted to know whether we went to Coyote Ugly. In a matter-of-fact voice, I told him we went to a sex party where I did five women.” 

Mr. Hairless paused for dramatic effect. He was way too full of himself. I was more interested in Ginny’s conversation and was about to return my attention to the window when Mr. Hairless’ finger tips brushed my forearm. 

“He looked at me like I was full of it and asked me what I really did,” said Mr. Hairless. “He had no idea I was telling him the truth.” 

It all sounded like a bunch of bull shit to me. Five women...seriously…why would you want to do something like that? He should be paying attention to his beautiful wife, instead of chasing after other women. 

Besides, Mr. Hairless didn’t look like anything special to me. The guy flirting with Ginny was a different matter. I could see why women might find him attractive. He was a classically handsome surfer dude. 

I needed to talk to Ginny, but Mr. Hairless insisted on continuing with his story. Shaking his head he said, “People think killing something is believable, but getting laid isn’t.” 

He raised his hands to his side, palms facing upward like a scale of justice and said, “Let me see, sit in the cold wet forest waiting to kill something or participating in an orgy. Humm, tough decision, but I choose sex over sport killing any day.” 

Finally, he appeared to be finished. I gave him a polite smile and turned to the window. Ginny was gone. Where did she go? I had to find out and started for the door, but Mr. Hairless grabbed my arm and said, “So what do you think?” 

He was beginning to get on my nerves, and my response was probably a bit short, “Aren’t you just using women for sex?” 

Shaking his head he answered, “Not at all. They are using me for sex.” 

I snorted in response, so he added, “Wives are the ones who drive the swinger lifestyle. They want to explore their sexuality while preserving their marriages. I’m happy to help.” 

My first reaction was to think it didn’t sound anything like my marriage. Then I remembered a conversation early in our relationship when Cynthia asked if I had ever considered a threesome. 

After stuttering and stammering for a minute or so, I told her no, I had too much respect for her to do something like that. I remember thinking she looked disappointed with my answer, but convinced myself it was my imagination. Maybe she had been trying to explore her sexuality with me. 

Mr. Hairless was shrewder than I originally gave him credit. Maybe he saw recognition in my face. I can’t be certain, but in any event his words seemed much more calculated than I had originally thought. 

“These women have huge appetites,” said Mr. Hairless. “They are voracious. Most of their husbands have declining testosterone levels and diminishing sex drives. If it weren’t for Viagra, the guys wouldn’t have a chance of keeping up. It’s the drug of choice for swingers.” 

I cut my eyes to his wife. She was nodding in agreement. “You don’t look like you need Viagra,” she said. “So do you want to play with us?” 

She must have seen the confusion on my face. Before I could ask what she meant by the word “play”, she said, “I can tell you’ve never done this before. It’s okay, everybody has a first time. We want to know if you want to have sex with us.” 

I have to admit I was stunned. I couldn’t imagine a man’s wife asking me if I wanted to have sex in front of her husband. It was inconceivable to me. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there like a deer in head lights. Fortunately, Eric appeared and rescued me. 

He touched me on the shoulder and asked, “Do you have a minute, Grant?” 

The relief on my face must have been plainly visible, because Mrs. Nipples gave me a small smile and said, “It’s okay honey. You don’t have to be afraid of us.” 

I gave her a grateful smile in return and followed Eric to a small home office off the living room. Finally, we could talk about the bizarre events of my day.

While he has corporate offices nearby, Eric prefers to work remotely. He also likes to brag about running his company from anywhere in the world with a laptop and a cell phone.  The truth is, while Eric works hard, Kinsey is the brains behind their success. 

Following her modeling stint in New York, Kinsey returned to school. She attended the local community college for two years before enrolling at the University of Louisville. After graduating with honors from a tough business program, she set out to build a first rate business. 

At that time, Eric was working as a bouncer in a biker bar. Kinsey wanted more for them and it was her idea to start a security company.  Thanks to her marketing skills, the business grew rapidly. It is wildly successful and continues to earn them a good living. 

Eric closed the office door behind us, and grabbed a robe from a closet. I was about to settle into a comfortable oversized chair, when he pointed at the stain on my trousers and said, “You smell bad, Grant. I’m pretty sure that suit is ruined. Can I get you a change of clothes?” 

I shook my head. “Ruined, pretty much defines my life right now,” I said. 

“Ruined…did you lose your big trial?” asked Eric. 

“Pathogen won…but apparently I lost,” I answered. “I was played and then fired by my boss, who I think may have also been played. It gets worse, dude. I found him dead in his office.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense, Grant. What the hell is going on?” 

The day had gotten away from me and I rushed to Eric’s house from the office seeking the counsel of a friend, but now that I was here and had the opportunity to talk to him, I was unable to open-up and speak candidly. He was right. I was speaking in riddles and couldn’t help myself from saying, “It’s complicated, but I no longer believe I was on the right side. Nor do I believe in Pathogen’s right to protect its patents.” 

Eric looked tired. There was something more on his mind and he didn’t seem to register my vague responses. I watched quietly as he ran his fingers through his blond hair. He didn’t say anything for several minutes and then finally opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short. His hands were trembling. 

“Ch’ing is missing,” said Eric. 

Ch’ing has been our martial arts teacher and mentor since we were both eight years old. Calling him our teacher doesn’t begin to describe the depth and reach of our relationship. He teaches us in the old way. Most dojo’s today are businesses, but our relationship with Ch’ing is not a financial transaction. We are tied together by bonds far greater than a tuition payment. It is a family bond that is stronger than any family I’ve ever been around. I couldn’t imagine loosing Ch’ing. 

“What do you mean…missing?” I asked. 

“He didn’t show up for class today,” answered Eric. 

To my knowledge, Ch’ing has never missed a class. He loves teaching and never seems to get sick. “That’s not possible,” I said. 

“I know,” said Eric. 

Eric looked lost and afraid. I had never seen him like that and wanted to reassure him, but I felt fear in the pit of my stomach like nothing I’ve ever experienced. “Have you tried to call him?” I asked. 

“No answer,” said Eric. 

“Yea, I tried earlier and it went straight to voicemail,” I said. “Has anyone stopped by his house?” 

“Yes, I sent one of my guys over,” he answered. “That’s who’s been calling for the last half hour keeping me updated. Ch’ing’s door was ajar.  The house had been trashed.” 

I couldn’t imagine Ch’ing’s house being trashed. His home is like a Zen garden. It has a simple elegance. Everything has its place and is in perfect order at all times. More importantly, it is a peaceful retreat from the chaos of the outside world. 

“I don’t understand,” I said. 

“It looks like he was taken by force,” said Eric.

This day was getting crazier and crazier. There’s no way anybody could have taken Ch’ing by force. He’s like superhuman or something. He is a martial arts master…the greatest that has ever been. 

“There has to be some other explanation,” I said. 

Eric shrugged. “We have to find him, Grant,” said Eric. 

I was getting really scared. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.