Coming Together: Neat Omnibus v2

Coming Together: Neat

Omnibus

volume two

Will Belegon

editor

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Coming Together: Neat Omnibus v2 © 2014 by Coming Together

Cover art © 2014 by Alessia Brio

All digital rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

A Coming Together publication

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Table of Contents

About Coming Together: Neat

Bridge Games © Paul Henry

Death Will Be Sweet © Jennifer Aarons

Elyse © Katie Daniels

Barbara © Katie Daniels

About the Authors

About Coming Together

About Coming Together: Neat

Coming Together: Neat is a line of novella-length (10K-50K word) single titles edited by Will Belegon. As with all Coming Together publications, diversity is the keyword. Thus, all colors and flavors of erotic fiction are welcome.

All proceeds from the sales of Coming Together: Neat titles are placed in a microlending account at Kiva (kiva.org), where they help entrepreneurs launch or expand their small businesses.

Contributing authors are encouraged to manage the microlending of their proceeds by joining Neat's Kiva lending team.

For more information, visit:

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~ * ~

BRIDGE GAMES

© Paul Henry

Chapter One:

Coming Is Always Better

You'll wake the bears from hibernation, Bob teased, if you keep screaming like that.

Oh shut up! Bailey gasped for breath. It's late October. She was flushed and breathing heavily. Bears aren't in hibernation. She reached down and adjusted her blue thong, pulled up her jeans shorts, and snapped them shut. But, I admit I was loud.

Bailey's orgasms had come in waves, first short and insistent, then building until they drowned her in pleasure. That was when she'd cried out. She looked at Bob, left hand resting lazily on the truck's steering wheel and right hand, still moist from her juices, stretched out on his jeans.

Bailey grabbed his hand and pulled his fingers to her lips. She sucked her taste from them. I've never had an orgasm like that. She moved his fingers to her bared breast and leaned into him, nuzzling him on the neck. How did you do that one-handed while driving a truck?

This old man knows some tricks.

Don't give me that old guy crap, you're forty-eight and run marathons. Bailey saw they were nearing the cabin. She adjusted her bra to cover her nipples and hurriedly buttoned her blouse. She was about to meet Bob's closest friends. If we had more time, I'd return the favor.

I could circle around.

Bailey looked back at the narrow winding path they'd just driven.

It was a joke, he told her. Bob patted her leg. Old guys joke a lot.

The sex had been amazing, but before she could restore her breathing, he was talking about their ages again. Bailey Klein didn't care about their ages.

Or about his ex-wife. Or the fact he was her boss's boss. Bailey lived for now. No past. No future. And if they had no future, who cared how old he was?

I'm just in this for the sex, she'd told Bob on their first date. He'd laughed, but it was true. She wanted an ocean of sex. Enough to make up for all those years she'd spent in monogamy.

On April 15th, immediately after he electronically filed her tax return, Bailey had broken up with her boyfriend of three years. That night she resolved to fuck two new men every week until Christmas. She made monthly lists of prospects. She was never again going to be tied down to one man.

Bob didn't make the list for May, her initial one. But he made the list the following month.

Robert L. Masters, V.P. of Marketing, a/k/a Bob, was number six on Bailey's Fuck List in June. He had been a college business professor, then started his own consulting firm. The firm was later acquired by Hollings, Kleinschmidt, Billick, and Purvy, where Bailey worked.

Numbers seven and eight were twin brothers who had just graduated from Palmer Chiropractic College. After the weekend with the twins, she'd called Bob again. She never got to her July list.

For the last three-and-a-half months, Bob was the only person she'd bedded.

I'm falling into old patterns, she mused. And now she was accompanying Bob on a couples' weekend at a cabin. A bridge marathon. Four couples who'd been gathering for the last eight years. She'd been crazy to agree. But here she was on the brink of a relationship again.

Bob and Bailey pulled into the circle in front of the large cabin. The 1989 Ford F150 threw up gravel as Bob braked to a stop beside a new blue Lexus RX 10. The SUV's rear hatch was open. Inside were two trunks and assorted athletic bags. What's this? Bob asked, as he stepped from the truck. He caught sight of Jacob Dennison, the weekend's host and the car's owner. Are you coming or going?

Coming is always better, Jacob said, pulling out the bags. We're hosting a big Halloween party here next week, so we thought we'd bring the costumes and props up early.

Any chance we'll get to play dress-up this weekend? Bob asked. Bob wore a plaid shirt and jeans. Scrawny casual was a good description. He was wiry, and tough.

No. Dress-up is for paying customers. For long-time friends, we chain you to the table and make you play bridge until you puke, Olivia Dennison said. She saw Bailey sitting in the truck, still out of breath. Oh, my Bob, what have you been doing to this sweet child?

Olivia walked toward the truck, as Bailey stepped out, struggling to regain her composure. I'm Olivia, she said. Call me Liv. She extended her hand in greeting. I belong to that gorgeous hunk of a man over there. She pointed to Jacob, who waved as he pulled the trunk from the SUV and carried it into the cabin without breaking a sweat.

He is gorgeous, Bailey thought. Maybe I should get the list back out.

Jacob was tan and muscular. He dressed in black Calvin Klein cargo shorts, a pale yellow Polo shirt, and Teva sandals. He looked like Adonis stepping up to the country club bar. Olivia looked that way, too. Her halter-top, tailored shorts, and calfskin leather sandals were basic, elegant, and perfect. Some day Bailey hoped to look that good.

I'm Bailey Klein.

Her father named her after Bailey Quarters from WKRP, Bob piped in.

Liv seemed surprised. How old are you?

I'm thirty-one. I was born in '81 during the show's second season.

God, you're young, Liv complained. Liv wondered how would she ever get Bob's attention this weekend when he had Bailey in tow.

Listen, kids, Jacob said, returning from the cabin, let me tuck things away, and then I'll pour us some drinks.

The bedroom's ready, Liv said. Old Bob knows the way.

Old Bob? Bailey asked.

That's what we call him, Jacob said. He's ten years older than Liv, David, Ian, and I. We were all students in his Intro to Marketing class at Northern Iowa.

It's a term of endearment, Liv said, reaching up and giving Old Bob a kiss on the cheek. She handed him a duffle bag she'd pulled from the back seat of Lexus. Be a dear?

Old Bob took the duffle bag from her, and grabbed the one she'd slung on her shoulder. He trudged them up into the cabin.

Those go in the playroom, Jacob called out after him.

The beds are made up, Liv told Bailey. There's a room for each couple. Liv hesitated, Unless, you'd prefer the loft. You could have that to yourself. Bailey shook her head. The loft is where Old Bob always slept when his ex-wife, Dorthea, got mad about his card play.

Old Bob is a pretty fair bridge player, Jacob said as he walked over to Bailey. But Thea was the best. Better even than me.

Thea was older than Old Bob, so before the divorce we just called him Bob, Liv added.

Recognition came to Bailey. Thea left the group, and he began seeing me. I'm younger than the rest of you, so you started calling him Old Bob.

Exactly. Glad you understand. Jacob gently took Bailey's arm and eased her toward the cabin as Bob returned to the Lexus. Actually, Bob is well preserved.

Bailey grabbed her backpack and reached for Bob's suitcase, but Jacob already had it in his hand.

Up until now, Korah--David's wife--was the baby of the group. She's eight years younger than the rest of us. But you're younger than her.

Bailey looked back at Bob, but Liv had him in tow, loading him up with more things to carry into the cabin. I'm well past the age of consent.

Yes, I can see that. Bailey felt Jacob's hand on the bare skin in the small of her back. The others will be here shortly. Let me get you a beverage.

Bailey shivered with excitement, as Jacob guided her toward the cabin. Canoes and kayaks are on the dock. The lake water is a little chilly, but it might feel good. After drinks, my wife can amuse Old Bob while I give you a tour of the property.

Bailey wondered what was included in the tour. Admiring Jacob's muscular body, she knew of at least one location she'd like to visit.

Jacob opened the door for Bailey, but she stopped short of the entryway. When Bob told me it was a log cabin, I didn't imagine....

A log palace? Jacob motioned to the expanse of it. It's forty-eight hundred square feet on the two floors: master bedroom on the first floor, kitchen, dining room, playroom, and a Great Room that opens to the second floor. The second floor has three more bedrooms, each with a private bath, and a loft. There is a front porch and a deck in the back that looks out over the lake, plus a screened in porch on the side for when the mosquitoes threaten to carry you off.

Jacob and Bailey walked into the Great Room. There were hardwood floors and a massive fireplace made from native stone with a base of hand-fired brick. And this is your summer home?

Not exactly. This is where we entertain for our business.

You must do a lot of entertaining, Bailey offered.

We do. Usually not in the summers because there are so many people on the lake. It's too crowded for us. June through August we rent the cabin by the week. Some firms use it as a conference center or for retreats.

Liv joined them in the Great Room. In September we clean it up and convert it into Entertainment Central.

We kick off the winter season with a Halloween party next week, Jacob explained. November through March we get a lot of groups of guys. Liv cleared her throat and gave Jacob a warning look. Hunters mostly, snowmobilers.

Weekend retreats and male bonding, Liv clarified. Sometimes cross country skiers.

As Jacob talked he showed Bailey around the downstairs. The tradition of the four couples is that the last weekend before Halloween we meet at the cabin for a marathon bridge party. He flashed a large smile. The cabin is a business expense, but we take care of friends.

Bob took their bags upstairs while Jacob fixed Bailey a drink. By the time Bob got back downstairs, Jacob had whisked Bailey down to the dock to show her the lake.

Grab a beer and join me on the back porch, Liv called out to him from the master bedroom. Jacob put some Horny Goat Belgium Wheat in the refrigerator for you.

When Bob got out to the porch, Liv was sitting in one of the large wicker chairs with big green cushions. She'd changed into a sundress, but hadn't finished buttoning it. She flashed him the curve of her breasts and the edges of her white lace bra. The gin and tonic on the wicker table beside the chair was already half empty.

I think my husband likes your little friend. Liv motioned to the two of them starting down the path to the dock, drinks in hand. I think she will be safe with Jacob, at least until after supper. Liv picked up her drink and began sipping it. If she's smart, she'll jump into a one-man kayak and paddle away from him.

Now, Liv, you know Jacob is devoted to you.

She put down her the gin and tonic. There was nothing left but ice and lime. Doesn't mean he isn't tempted.

Bob considered that. He set his beer glass on the wicker table and turned the wicker love seat so that he could face Liv, but still keep track of Bailey and Jacob. He sunk into the love seat's thick green cushions. He reached for his beer and drank.

Liv nonchalantly picked up the lime wedge and sucked on it. So, she finally said, tell me what you thought.

Bob watched Liv cross her legs. She leaned over and adjusted the hem of the dress for modesty, ignoring the fact that the top four buttons were undone and offered him a grand view of her breasts. About what?

Don't play coy. She sat up. She noted where Bob was staring and smiled. I sexted you my pictures two days ago. Liv picked up her glass and swirled the ice around. She raised her eyebrows. I need feedback.

Bob looked down at his beer. The pictures were self-portraits taken in Liv's tiny home studio. She'd used mirrors and props but hadn't bothered to wear a lot of clothing. Fortunately she'd sent them to his iPhone private number rather than to his company Droid. He could have been fired.

Bob cleared his throat. Did you know that the Bible never mentions masturbation?

She looked over at him, trying not to laugh. No, Bob dear, I didn't know that.

Bob watched as Bailey followed Jacob down the path. It was steep and they treaded slowly. At one point they stopped and talked for a moment. He could hear their laughter drift up the hill.

To determine what God is thinking on that issue you have to look at related passages.

Fascinating, she said sarcastically. Liv pulled a cube from her glass and rolled it slowly over the curves of her breasts as it melted into her cleavage.

Bob tried to focus on Liv. Our bodies are gifts from God, he told her. On the path to the dock, there was one tricky turn where part of the hillside had eroded in last summer's heavy rain. The ability to excite ourselves, he continued, is part of the gift package.

Fascinating, Liv murmured, setting down her glass. Jacob went down the path first, and then he lifted Bailey down, holding her in the air a little longer than was necessary to assure her safe-footing. Liv touched Bob's hand. You were saying?

Self-stimulation eases tension, improves circulation, and lowers the risk of prostate cancer. He noticed that when Jacob and Bailey began walking again, Jacob's arm was around Bailey's waist.

Liv picked up another ice cube. She brushed it across her forehead, as though she were very warm, and then slowly dragged it down her cheek and neck, finally pausing in the valley of her cleavage. Liv eased the remains of the ice into her bra, encircling her right nipple with it until it was fully erect. She recaptured Bob's attention.

As Liv continued to play with her nipple, she used her other hand to unbutton the dress until she exposed her taut stomach. Her tanned body looked stunning against the sheer white undergarments. She looked up and paused until he continued.

Some religious critics of masturbation point to Genesis 38 and the experience of Onan.

I'm not aware of that story, Liv said, as she unbuttoned two more buttons. She began stroking the front of her white satin panties, slowly at first, then gradually with greater urgency. She moaned softly and closed her eyes.

God wanted Onan to impregnate a woman, Bob continued, but instead Onan 'spilled his seed on the ground,' so God killed him.

Bummer, Liv said as she switched hands. Her left hand stroked her panties, while her right hand pinched and teased her other nipple.

Bob reached over and finished unbuttoning her dress. He pulled it aside and watched her play with herself, one hand in her bra, the other on her panties. Her breasts swelled as her breathing deepened. Her body flushed. She yelped with pleasure.

Liv uncrossed her legs, pulled her panty aside, and plunged two fingers into her wet pussy. She moaned.

By this time, Jacob and Bailey had arrived at the dock, but instead of separating, Jacob's arm remained around Bailey's waist as he pointed to landmarks around the lake.

Bob opened Liv's legs wider and stroked her calves. She stuck a third finger in as Bob watched. It had been years since she'd performed for him like this. Ah-h-h-h-h. Her forced her fourth finger into her cunt. A little help, Bob, she whispered.

Bob grabbed the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her thighs. He slipped her right foot out, but left them hanging on her left ankle. Oh-h-h-h-h, she moaned.

He cleared his throat and hurried on with his story. It turns out Onan was actually fucking his brother's wife, so Genesis 38 is really about other issues.

Liv moans increased until finally she cried out, F-u-u-u-c-k!

This isn't good, Bob thought. F-u-u-u-c-k, she called out again. They'll hear her. He needed to do something. Bob unzipped his jeans, stood up, and pulled his cock out of his boxers. He began stroking himself.

Leviticus says to purify yourself after a discharge of semen. Liv thrashed in the chair as she watched him watch her. But it doesn't say (he hesitated) "that discharging" (he grabbed his cock tighter and he held it) is bad in a Biblical sense. Bob wanted the moment to last, but Liv stroked with greater urgency.

Then he was stroking, too, ready to erupt. He leaned over her, poised to shower her with his come.

Doesn't... the Bible... also say, Liv struggled to get the words out, that you shouldn't.... She gasped. Oh! She gasped again. "Lust after... your neighbor's... wife?"

Yes! he cried out as his spunk spurted high into the air, then splattered across her belly and the sides of her dress.

Lusting is a struggle, Bob said when he finally regained his breath, especially when your neighbor's wife sends naked pictures. He hoped Bailey hadn't heard him all the way down the hill.

Liv tensed. Tensed. Tensed. Her mouth opened to scream, but no words came out. She gasped. Gasped. Gasped again. She released. The pleasure rolled over her body like breakers on a beach.

God, that was good! she finally chortled. God, that was good!

She looked down and saw her dress wide open, covered with Bob's cum. She pulled her hand out of her pussy and kicked the panties off her foot. Liv made no move to button the dress. Thank you, old friend. She picked up her glass and sucked up the last of the ice. Having someone watch always makes it better.

Bob glanced back to the dock. Liv used the hem of her sundress to wipe off his penis. She tucked his cock in and zipped up his pants . You seem to have given self-abuse a lot of thought.

It's all I've thought about since you emailed me.

She laughed. So you approve of the pictures?

Sinfully so. Bob hesitated. He had introduced Liv to Jacob. At the time, she was both a student in his Marketing class and his lover. I haven't seen you naked in a long time. They locked eyes.

She asked him softly, Would you like to see more?

Before he could answer, they heard voices in the cabin, arguing angrily. Sounds like Ian and Debra have arrived. Liv kissed Bob solidly on the lips. When he started to respond, she pushed him away. There's no time for that, she laughed.

Liv stood up and walked over to the screen door, opened it, and called down the hill. Jacob, the guests have arrived. Suddenly the couple on the dock separated. Stop fondling that young girl and get your butt back up here. It's happy hour.

She turned back to Bob and began buttoning the dress. I suppose I should change again.

Tell me first why you sent them to me, he said desperately.

Just thinking of old times, she said, and disappeared into the cabin.

Chapter Two:

Things Change

So, Bailey said to Bob as he showed her the way to their bedroom, tell me all about your friends. Bailey was glowing after spending happy hour with four attentive males. She was the new girl on the block.

Bob was growling. What was I thinking bringing her here? He opened the bedroom door and Bailey stopped. Welcome to the Fifties, he told her. The walls were covered with movie posters for Asphalt Jungle, King Creole, All About Eve, On the Waterfront, Rebel without a Cause, and Attack of the 50 Foot Woman. There was a 1952 Marble Queen pinball machine and a 1955 Seeburg V 200 jukebox. The spread on the brass bed looked like a giant poodle skirt. On the end table was a Grundig Majestic radio. I love it, she said. But I thought the Seventies was your decade.

It was, but I appreciate the classics, he said.

So do I, she teased, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Jacob's flirtations down at the dock had her libido racing. Bailey leaned over and began unbuttoning Bob's plaid shirt. How about a quickie before supper?

Don't you want to freshen up?

God no. Bailey stripped Bob of his shirt and tossed it aside. I reek of sex from the truck, but I think you like me a little dirty.

I do.

She pulled his tight jeans down to his ankles. Oh, my, she said, as she reached for his boxers. You smell like sex, too. She laughed at his embarrassment. What were you and Liv doing on the porch while Jacob was being a perfect gentleman on the dock?

When she pulled down his boxers, his eight-inch cock sprang to attention. Never mind, she said before he could answer. You're mine now. She climbed into the bed next to him and began unbuttoning her blouse. You like what you see, old man?

I do, he growled.