How It Happened

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted, except for personal use.

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How It Happened

I remember most of it. There was very little talking. I’m not even sure why the two of them were here.

I remember picking them up from the airport.

I remember bringing them back to the house. I offered them drinks. But all they wanted was to go to the bedroom.

I remember I was in the middle of hooking up the new VCR to the television. Karen stretched out languidly on the bed, slender legs in dark slacks, a black silk top clinging to her curves as she watched, dark hair spread out behind her.

I remember Danielle going into the bathroom, where Lisa was taking a bath. She left the door open, and Karen and I both watched as she stripped off her clothes, revealing well-formed breasts and a slightly-rounded stomach, not perfectly flat, the kind of thing that makes me grow hard just to think about. She sat on the edge of the tub, legs spread, neatly-trimmed between, and Lisa rose up on her knees, glistening from the bathwater. Lisa’s arms went around Danielle’s back, and their lips touched.

I remember sharing a glance with Karen before going back to what I was doing.

I remember watching Lisa and Danielle kiss each other fervently, Danielle’s skin growing slick as it rubbed against Lisa’s. Lisa kissed her like she wanted to eat her whole, nails digging into Danielle’s shoulders. I could see Lisa’s right breast, could see that her nipple was tight and hard, could see Danielle’s nails dimpling the flesh of Lisa’s bottom as she clutched it.

I remember searching through the bottom drawer for a tape to test the VCR.

I remember both myself and Karen abandoning all pretense. I went to the cabinet at my bedside and removed a small ceramic pipe. I filled it and lit it and drew from it, then passed it to her. She took it without a word, bright-red-lipsticked lips caressing the end of it as she inhaled.

I remember the exact expression on Danielle’s face as Lisa licked her way down the other woman’s body. I grew fuzzier as the herb took effect, but nothing could make me forget the way Danielle’s clear green eyes closed slowly, the way her back arched, the way one leg went over Lisa’s shoulder but the other stayed spread outward, as if she knew Karen and I were watching.

I remember Danielle’s mouth being partially open, gasping, high-pitched little notes of pleasure that grew sharper and sharper. Lisa knew what she was doing. There was no doubt. Karen and I watched, sharing the pipe, my world growing softer, as Lisa used her tongue and her fingers to bring Danielle closer and closer to orgasm.

I remember my phone buzzing on the nightstand. I opened it, cupped the mouthpiece, stood in the corner, hoping that the others wouldn’t hear, that the person on the phone wouldn’t know that Lisa was in the bathroom, not ten feet away, her mouth between Danielle’s legs, Danielle’s explosion of delight a miasma of sound that I heard perfectly, but something I didn’t see.

I remember talking on the phone, carefully, so that no one would know. Karen’s face took on an interesting look, her eyes glazing just a bit.

I remember closing the phone and setting it back on the nightstand.

I remember sitting back on the bed and finishing the pipeful with Karen, then placing it in an ashtray, to be cleaned later. Karen snuggled up beside me, her body warm, her pulse throbbing in her wrist as she draped her arm over my stomach.

I remember Lisa helping Danielle slide into the bathtub. They cuddled together, Lisa on top, Danielle’s arm hooked over the edge, her other arm nowhere to be seen.

I remember Karen’s fingers tracing little patterns on my chest as Lisa came, sharp hooks in her voice, her breath catching, her face intense, as it always was.

I remember time passing.

I remember disengaging myself from Karen, who had fallen asleep, and going into the bathroom. I knelt beside the tub and told Lisa that I would have to go to work after all, that I would be due there in two hours. The look on Lisa’s face was obvious disappointment; the look on Danielle’s, I couldn’t read that. Not yet. I knew Karen quite well, but Danielle was still somewhat of a mystery.

I remember shedding my clothes while Lisa and Danielle kissed, hoping that they wouldn’t notice my disappointment or my arousal. Disappointment that I wouldn’t get to play with the three of them, arousal at what I’d seen them do and was watching them do right now. Where my kisses with Lisa were sometimes rough and desperate, even after sex, theirs were soft and languid, like an intricate ballet.

I remember stepping into the shower cube and turning on the water, getting it to the right temperature.

I remember the door opening and Karen joining me, her clothes gone.

I remember Karen was like no woman I had ever been with. Where the others were tall, she was short; where the others were voluptuous, she was slender and birdlike. Karen had been my friend for many years. We had never been physically intimate, except for one kiss just before I’d moved away. I treasured the memory of that kiss for years.

I remember there was no foreplay. She moved close to me, and kissed me, and put her arms around me. I bent my knees and positioned myself. I cupped her small, tightly-rounded bottom in my hands and picked her up. Her legs, skin slick with water and tense with muscle, went around my hips.

I remember she was vise-tight. It took an uncountable amount of seconds to work my way fully into her. I am not especially well-endowed, but it was as if Karen was a virgin. I knew she wasn’t; I knew her first partner. But she was far tighter than Lisa had been, and I had been Lisa’s first – and last.

I remember Karen grabbing the towel bar as I lifted her and dropped her, over and over, the flesh of her bottom in my palms, her nipples dark and hard as they scraped my chest, her hair a dark, slicked-back wave, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip when her lips weren’t pressed to mine, dark eyes intense as I guided her body.

I remember there was something Lisa liked to do in this position. I let one of my hands creep closer, my fingertip brushing the tight, small opening between Karen’s cheeks. She shuddered and bore down on me, burying her face in the crook of my shoulder, one arm circling around, nails digging deep into the back of my neck. She gave a choked-off cry and I felt her clench around me. I didn’t think she’d reached orgasm yet, but she was close.

I remember allowing my fingertip to penetrate her, just barely.

I remember she shook her head.

I remember removing the finger, just brushing the opening.

I remember her orgasm being perfectly silent, her teeth leaving a perfect crescent-shaped bite-mark in the flesh of my neck as she tightened more and more, her breath hot and fast as she pressed her face against me.

I remember turning around so she could hold onto the towel bar, her back to the tiled wall of the shower.

I remember plunging harder and faster into her.

I remember Karen’s heels digging into my lower back.

I remember her dark eyes fixing on my face as I forced myself not to come, not wanting it to end.

I remember her asking me to come.

I remember telling her what I was thinking.

I remember a smile spreading across her face.

I remember the graceful way she slid downward, my flesh drawing slowly out of her body, her lithe form as she knelt in front of me. Her small hand and slender fingers wrapped as far as they could around me and she started to stroke, slow at first, but speeding up, her other hand between my thighs, one sharp fingernail pressed in the exact center.

I remember biting back a moan as my orgasm burst across Karen’s shoulders and chest, spurt after spurt covering her small, high breasts, her hand drawing forth every last drop onto her body.

I remember her asking me to hold her. I went to my knees and she gently pushed me to a sitting position, then moved between my legs, the warm cheeks of her bottom spread around my length, still pulsing. She told me this was how she liked to be held.

I remember putting my arms around her, her head lolling back against my unbitten shoulder, turning sideways so we could kiss again and again.

I remember the hot water starting to run out.
I remember the two of us rinsing off quickly, between kisses, and stepping out of the shower.
I remember returning to the bedroom.

I remember the expression on Danielle’s face as she was positioned on all fours on the bed, Lisa behind her, a toy strapped to her, plunging it over and over into Danielle’s body. Despite what had just happened in the shower, I felt a surge of blood between my legs. Karen looked at it, then looked at Danielle. I looked at Lisa, who nodded, then knelt on the bed.

I remember the warmth and wetness of Danielle’s mouth as she captured me quickly, sucking deeply.

I remember Karen sitting at the head of the bed, touching herself, just now realizing that except for a small thatch of hair above her opening, she was bare between her legs.

I remember Karen crawling behind me, her body cool and smooth as she pressed against my back.

I remember her slick fingertip probing between my cheeks.

I remember nodding.

I remember Lisa’s amused expression.

I remember two of Karen’s slender fingers buried deep inside me.

I remember throwing my head back and grabbing Danielle’s ponytail and making some sort of low growling noise as I burst into her mouth.

I remember the gulping sounds of her swallowing.

I remember moving away.

I remember Danielle turning onto her back.

I remember hearing her come again as Karen set a knee on either side of my ears and lowered herself to my mouth, her own mouth moving against my limp flesh.

I remember thinking about protesting, telling her there was no way I’d be able to do it again.

I remember how good it felt, and not caring, and instead focusing on making Karen come again.

I remember Karen coming again, tasting the sweetness and wetness of her.

I remember disentangling myself from the bed, getting dressed, kissing each of them goodbye before going to work.

I remember the slowest eight hours of my entire life.

I remember joining them in bed when I returned home, my arms around Karen, her back to me, her flesh as soft as mine was hard.

I remember willingly waiting.

I remember not waiting long.

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