Silver Memories, Plastic Hearts

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Twelve keys and a lot of anxious eyes. The mood in the room is curious, nervous, excited, amorous, adventurous.

Looking around the room, motives are both hidden and obvious. Take Joe, for example: it’s clear that his brother Adam- who is clearly ecstatic with glee to be at this particular event- dragged him into this charade. Then there’s David’s girlfriend, Alexis, who’s in tears; worse off than poor, timid Joe, she is. For my part, I’m fairly relaxed. If some strange girl (and there are plenty of them to go around) ends up going home with my boyfriend Tony, I pity her more than anything. I hope she doesn’t mind being spanked!

“Everyone,” Monique calls. “It’s time.”

The sound of heartbeats racing is almost overbearing, or maybe that’s just the fast paced, train-wreckage occuring in my own chest.

Tonight is everything.

Tony and I agreed that a little spice couldn’t hurt…and then he met him. Our relationship has been a bit shakey, at best, and I can’t help but feel it’s because I don’t have the mandatory equipment of the other. Oh well, that’s biology (and life!).

So here we are at Monique’s key party.

“Paulie, baby,” Monique coos to her girlfriend. “You pick first, show them how it’s done. I do love you!”

I roll my eyes as “Paulie” (Pauline, when her woman isn’t trying to dote on her with sickening childish pet names) steps up to the nondescript jar of keys and confetti. Her usually jovial manner is sedate as she reaches a petite hand into the mix and plucks forth a sparkling (read: presumably new and expensive) gold key and grins.

“Who owns this…and me?”

A loud gulp emits from Joe’s throat.

Next, Angelina extracts a fairly mundane key and smirks brilliantly. Clearly, the key belongs to her part-time obsession, Adam. Funny that the brothers should be the first two men sent off to their new fates, I think, as I stare across the spacious living room and into the eyes of my Tony.

My Tony.

I’m uneasy at the thought of sharing him. Had it not been a mere hour ago that I was sure of myself and this…situation?

Keys disappear, as do the brothers, Christopher, Jerry, and Michael. With them gone, I’m left with bizarre odds. I could go home with Tony and gain absolutely nothing, though my losses would be equally null. Then there’s David, Alexis would surely decapitate me tomorrow- just the thought kills any possibilities of coital bliss. Paul doesn’t look too kinky, Yalova Escort more like a stoned teddy bear, in fact. And Matt being Tony’s cousin, I wince as I reach into the jar and say a small prayer.

My prize is a simple, plastic-topped silver Toyota key on a Coors keychain. I stare at the object, realizing that this wasn’t such a brilliant idea.

This is not Tony’s car key.

“Ahem,” comes a sly cough. “That’s me. I mean, that’s mine.”

My gaze transfixes on Matt, as he smiles warmly and winks. I nod my head slowly and begin to look for my coat and purse.

“NO!” Tony screams. “NO!”

His lithe body lunges off the sofa in a matter of seconds, though the dive toward his cousin is thwarted in mid-air by Paul and Monique. He fidgets as they bring him to the ground, getting Matt’s attention as he bellows forth a plethora of cusses.

“That’s my girlfriend,” he shrieks. “I love her.”

Matt nods and takes my hand to leave.

“Matt, please?”

“It’s just one night, Tone,” he frowns as we step out into the bitter cold.

* * *

As we sit in the bubble bath, his erection pressed firmly against my lower back in a sensual manner, he begs me to forget the promises. Forget two months worth of avoidances, secrets, and even a bevvy of white lies.

“Tell me?” he pleads.

He brings our small loufa up and across my shoulders, hot water racing down my back as he massages and cleans. Soft, gentle, so unlike the person I had once known, had loved and made my boyfriend. He’d changed since that night, as I had changed. To go back, to relive it through memories….was it a good idea, I wondered?

“Please?” he whispered, reaching a hand down into the water between my parted thighs.

My breath caught in my throat as I whispered, “What do you want to hear?”

“Anything,” he cooed. “Everything.”

“Do you want to hear that he’s an amazing lover?” I pleaded, leaning into his pleasurable touch.

His tongue massaged my earlobe as he leaned forward to nibble. “Is he?”

“Tony, please!”

I stood up without thinking, stepping away from his seductive touch and out of the tub.

“Don’t!” he protested, grabbing my hand as it swung loosely at my side. “Come back in the bath!”

I stood, unmoving. My thoughts spiraled out of control, my emotions soon following.

“Babe?” he pleaded with his passionate blue irises.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I Yalova Escort Bayan can’t,” I repeat helplessly as he stands and tries to guide me back to our warm bubble bath.


“Tony?” I plead, my eyes welled to bursting.

* * *

His movements were slow, assured. He was experienced, a gentle lover who understood the workings of a woman.

And how to please her.

“Relax,” he smiled as he drove forward and placed his lips onto my own.

I tried to smile, allowing the pleasure he was bringing to my body to take control.

“Breathe,” he grinned.

I smiled at this, exhaling a large swash of air and inhaling his masculine scent.

So beautiful, I thought. So perfect and so much more than any photograph could ever detail.

“You still with me?” he smirked, a crooked grin that held a childish mirth behind its bent edges.

I nodded gently and placed my hands onto his hips, drawing his body further into my own.

* * *

“Tell me?” I pleaded.

The roles reversed, he smiled with a characteristic immature glee. He wanted to tell me everything, to confess his sins. He had, I realized, since that night months ago. He’d longed to weave the tell of his exploits, to narrate for me anything I would allow him to say.


“Where do I start?” he grinned, easing his back against the headboard while lighting a cigarette and placing it between his voluptuous lips.

“Somewhere,” I sighed. “Anywhere?”

He nodded, puffed a cloud of white exhalation into the air, and grinned. “She was leggy, blonde, her tits were entirely fake.”

Silence passed as he puffed and pondered his next confession.

“She was blonde, her tits were so fake it was ridiculous. She said her name was Mandy, I think, I didn’t really pay much attention. My heart was broken, thinking of you with Matty.”

More silence.

“She chose my key and I think she knew that my heart was no longer into the situation. But she made the best of things, straddling me as soon as we got to the car. She put those tits in my face and- I won’t say I forgot you, babe, I could never forget you- but I allowed myself to escape for the moment. To enjoy what she was doing to my body.”

I nodded.

“She moved my seat back, pushed me down right there- we were still in Monique’s driveway, for christsake! She unbuttoned my flannel as I lit a cigarette, pushed my shorts off my hips Escort Yalova as I played with her hair. Her lips wrapped around my cock, and I forgot. I just…let it all go.”

I found myself annoyed by his words, and oddly excited. The thought of my boyfriend- the man I did love, and had loved since long before that day- receiving head from a stranger, a buxom blonde stranger, was an incredible turn-on. Perhaps I was crazy, but the truth of the matter was the more he talked, the more moist I became.

“I didn’t want it to end, so I shoved her off me and flipped her over into the backseat. We were confined but we made it work. I pushed her onto all fours, baby. I fucked her doggy style and all I could think of was….”

“You,” we both said in unison.

Tony blushed.

I grinned.

“I was so incredibly hard, so amazingly horny. I wanted to share her with you, baby. I wanted to make that night last forever and never have it end. She came screaming my name, and I came screaming…yours. Then it was over, and she left me there. In the car, alone. We’d never even made it home.”

My hand had slowly ventured down inside my nightie, and I eyed Tony with intoxication in my eyes as he confessed those final last thoughts.

“I love you,” he whispered, teasing my neck with his gentle fingertips.

* * *

“I could love you,” he whispered, a gentle mist of air raining down into the pores of my skin.

My breath had caught on those words, my pounding heart had raced ever closer to eruption.

I could love you.

“You’re perfect,” he’d continued, still pistoning his sculpted hips. “Your breasts, your body, your lips. Amazing.”

I had felt myself melt into this beautiful creature, had felt the experience overcome me and envelope me in a sensual embrace. I had wanted him to say these things, had longed for his affections and appreciation.

His breathing escalated to erratic, and his movements became increasingly rough. At the height of his orgasm, he had growled, pressing his lips firmly to my own and kissing me with animalistic hunger.

“I want you,” he heaved as he rolled to my side.

“You had me,” I smiled, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Forever?” he pleaded, but I had already begun the process of locating my discarded clothing.

* * *

“Has he asked?” he inquired curiously, smoothing an errant strand of my hair behind my ear.

I shrugged, leaning back into his muscular chest.

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing, baby.”

He nodded.

“So,” I had grinned, taunting him with the lilt of my voice.

“So what?” he grinned, and it was lopsided and immature but not characteristically.

“Is this forever?”

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