Always Belle

The morning after the party, Uncle Artie and Belle took me to a trendy cafe for breakfast while hired staff cleaned up the house.

During our meal, I occasionally glanced at Belle, trying to decipher anything beyond the surface. I repeated the shocking fact to myself:

She had sex with another man.

The timing of her actions last night was completely mind-boggling, considering that, prior to the basement tryst, she had just gotten engaged to my uncle in front of the entire party.

The image of Uncle Artie this morning was a fascinating juxtaposition. Absent was the flair of a well-dressed stud on stage, theatrically proposing to his model girlfriend. Today he was in simple clothes, mindlessly drinking his espresso.

"Ken, the avocado toast is good, right?" Belle warmed her hands on the ceramic mug of her latte, her new engagement ring sparkling in my direction.

"Yup! Excuse me, be right back." I stepped away from our table to use the restroom, my stomach feeling triggered (I never ate shit like avocado toast!).

After I'd finished my toilet business, I washed up and exited the restroom, feeling a hand on my shoulder from behind.

"Knew it was you!"

I panicked, thinking I'd been caught doing something wrong. But I turned around and was pleased to see a familiar face.

"Devin!" I said.

"Been a minute, Ken! I thought you'd moved away?"

"I did, but I'm back from college. What's new with you, dude?"

"Graduated too! And just started working full-time with my dad."

"What's he do again?" I felt bad for forgetting, with Devin being one of my better friends from high school.

"He does building security," he replied sheepishly.

I then recalled that Devin's father was some kind of doorman for a residential high-rise, not the flashiest of jobs.

Devin continued, "Working with my dad is an okay gig for me at the moment. But I'm more into security tech, like gadgets and hardware."

"Interesting. Some of my criminology classes covered that stuff."

"Really?" Devin seemed genuinely intrigued. "I gotta pick your brain. We should chat, hang out sometime."

"Yeah, for sure. You got the same number?"

"Same old, same old!" He fist-bumped me. "I was just heading out but good seeing you, Ken!"

In high school, even though Devin had never shared my same academic work ethic, I'd always appreciated his friendship. It was cool to know he was still around.

I returned to my uncle and Belle's table and sat down feeling much better (and lighter!).

"Drink too much last night?" Uncle Artie grinned.

Clearly, I'd been gone a long time. "Yeah probably," I replied, embarrassed to say otherwise.

"Don't worry, I've got a great detox juice for you when we get home," Belle chimed in, playing the sweet caretaker as always.

Uncle Artie straightened his posture, suddenly getting serious. "Hey Ken, just wanted to say... I know I didn't get to spend much time with you and your cousins growing up. Work's always been busy for me. But I want to hang out more while you're with us. Starting today."

"I'd like that," I said.

"How cute!" Belle said. "Wish I could join you boys, but, alas, work beckons."

"Going anywhere fun?" I asked.

"Back-to-back shoots in Berlin and Munich. I fly out tonight." She sighed adorably. "I'll be back for Ox's barbecue though."

I remembered last night. My uncle's best friend had invited me to his house for a pool party barbecue next weekend. He even cited Belle in her swimwear as an incentive, if I needed any.

"Ken, you're coming to Ox's, right?" Uncle Artie asked. "I've got swim shorts if you need some."

Belle interjected, "I can get Ken a new pair. Which reminds me, I think I wanna buy a new bikini too."

"Of course, B. Whatever you want." Uncle Artie kissed her cheek, which she returned in kind with a cute peck on his lips.

I warmed inside observing their small display of affection. It helped reinforce the belief that my uncle and Belle were committed to each other at some level, her rendezvous last night aside.

***

Later at night, Uncle Artie and I dropped Belle off at the airport. Afterward, we ate dinner at a hole-in-the-wall Ethiopian spot, which lent a nice down-to-earth impression of my uncle. That he wasn't always this rich, jet-setting businessman, constantly dining at Michelin star restaurants.

The following days were more of the same. In the mornings, on the way to his office, I'd ask my uncle to drop me off at a cafe where I could work on my new laptop, polish my resume, search for job postings, etc.

Then after working hours, we'd hang out. On one night, we'd stayed in and watched some old action movie in his mansion's theater room—a movie that he'd actually taken me and my cousins, Colin and Roux, to see at the cinema when we were kids.

On another day, we'd enjoyed dinner with Uncle Frank and Colin at a Taiwanese restaurant, where we reminisced on random memories we had had as a family. My uncles had even video-called my mom to fold her in, being sure to playfully tease their older sister about her idiosyncrasies growing up.

Another night, Uncle Artie had told me he was going to hang out solo with Ox. Best friends since they were young, it was rare nowadays for the two to get decent guy time together, given that Ox was a father of three, and my uncle always being busy with work.

When Uncle Artie had arrived home that particular night, I was lounging in the living room, watching Real Madrid goal highlights on my phone. I asked him where he went, and he said he and Ox had gone to some fancy new bar downtown. He told me it was great to catch up with him, since they hadn't really gotten a chance to at the mansion party.

I'd remembered my own interaction with Ox that night, where I'd been clueless about expensive liquors, unable to help him with the outdoor bar set-up. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn't been invited to this new downtown bar. I would've probably felt out of place, not knowing a thing.

***

On Friday morning, Uncle Artie postponed his early meetings and asked me if I wanted to accompany him to pick up Belle from the airport. Did he even have to ask?

The past week, I'd continued masturbating to the thought of Belle fucking in the basement, inserting a new identity for the mystery guy each time—a revolving door of partners to suit my fickle perversion.

After every ejaculation, I'd wondered if I would encounter a crisis of conscience. The answer each time ended up being no, not at all. I contemplated whether maybe

that

was the problem.

Maybe finally seeing Belle again in person would humanize her in my mind, and I could ease up on my fantasies for fear of overindulging in them. Now that I was living with her and my uncle, I fretted about being too careless. That they might catch me jerking it, my eyes closed while whispering Belle's name to myself.

Worst case scenario, they'd disclose my filthy act to the whole extended family, then have to give me some embarrassing intervention. Send me to some specialist with a doctorate to re-engineer my brain.

In an ideal world, I aspired for some healthy balance, between lusting over Belle, while, at the same time, respecting her like she was family. What that balance actually looked like, who knew?

Uncle Artie and I arrived at the airport terminal, where I got out to help load Belle's suitcase into the trunk. I settled into the backseat, giving her the passenger.

"Hey Ken, got you a little gift from Berlin. It's not much, but hope you like it." Belle turned to hand me a thin box of German chocolates.

"And where's

my

present?" Uncle Artie asked.

"My return home to you isn't a gift?" Belle flashed the cutest closed smile at him, then kissed his cheek.

"Okay, I get to unwrap you in bed later," he replied, unabashed.

"Babe!" She laughed, before looking back at me with light astonishment.

"Shame the unwrapping will have to wait." My uncle sighed. "Sadly, I gotta go into the office soon."

"I thought you said we could go shopping," Belle said. "I wanted to look for that new bikini I'd talked about."

"Sorry. Maybe Ken can go with you. I can drop y'all off."

Belle turned around to face me. "Ken, are you free?"

Of course I was free. I was literally unemployed. The thought of accompanying Belle while she shopped for skimpy bikinis? That obviously excited me!

"Yeah, I think I'm free," I replied nonchalantly.

"Great!" Belle smiled. "Oh you know what, Ken, let's bring those business suits I got you. We can get them tailored somewhere nearby."

This was going to be the first time I'd get to hang out with Belle in public, just me and her. If you'd told high school me that one day this would be a real thing, I would've died a happy acne-littered virgin.

***

Uncle Artie made a quick pit stop at the house, where Belle was able to drop off her luggage while I grabbed my suits. After she freshened up, we took off on the road.

My uncle eventually dropped us off in the city's high-end shopping district. When I stepped foot on the busy sidewalk, suits draped over my shoulder, I took in the scene of luxury brand storefronts all around me.

"So Belle, are we going to look for swimsuits first?" I asked, perhaps too eagerly.

"Sure, we can do that," she replied. "Oh, I gotta get you trunks too. Just let me know if you find something you like."

We walked down the street together. Even in her casual wear, a blouse with snap buttons paired with jeans, several heads turned our way. Men just couldn't help themselves. And I felt pride in knowing I had an access to Belle that they didn't.

"So Ken, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to... but... Are you seeing any one special?"

"Not at the moment," I replied. Why did she preface her question as if walking on eggshells? I mulled over the subtext.

"Well, any girl, or person, would be lucky to date you. Good men run in your family."

I honed in on her word choice:

or person.

Did she think I could possibly be gay? Personally, I had no issues whatsoever with homosexuality. But I wasn't gay. If Belle only knew how many times I'd jerked off to her...

But now I felt a little defensive. "Actually, there was this girl at the party that I was talking to. She's an aspiring musician. I think we hit it off. Maybe I'll ask her out."

"That's so great! You definitely should!" she said, her bubbly enthusiasm taking me by surprise.

***

We continued walking, passing store by store.

"Wait, is that who I think it is?" Belle stared through the window of an ice cream shop. "Oh, Peter's coming out."

The creamery's door swung open. A small bell attached to the handle rang and rattled.

"Auntie Belle!" A small boy ran out to hug her legs. Belle welcomed the ambush, joy across her face.

Another woman walked out as well. "Oh, hey Belly! Funny running into you here!"

"Hi Sherrie!" Belle cheerily hugged the woman, the clingy kid still around her thighs. "What a nice little surprise! Where's the rest of the clan?"

"Ox and the other kids are just finishing up their ice cream inside. Peter, get off Auntie Belle's legs please, you're choking her."

"Sorry!" The kid took a step back, getting Belle to fluff his messy hair as harmless forgiveness.

"Wait a second." Sherrie finally noticed me. "Is this... Oh my god! Kenny! You're so grown up now." She gave me a hearty hug.

"Hi Aunt Sherrie! Good to see you!" I politely hugged her back.

While Sherrie and I weren't actually related, she'd always treated me like a nephew. She had three kids of her own but was still a looker. I was about to mention to her that it was too bad she'd missed my uncle's party, but the bell on the door interrupted me.

"You're kidding me! We gotta stop meeting like this, Ken," Ox said.

With his two other kids at his side, the image of Ox as a father of three didn't quite gel with the man who, last week, had mentioned pussies being thrown my way.

"So what brings you two here?" he asked us.

"Just doing some shopping, errands," Belle said. "Was thinking of getting a new swimsuit for your barbecue tomorrow."

"Hasn't your job given you hundreds of pairs already?" Ox rolled his eyes at her.

"Belle," Sherrie chimed in, "I'll take any pairs you don't want anymore. Your closet must be overflowing."

"You're not wrong." Belle chuckled. "Okay Sherr, I'll bring some over tomorrow. You can keep whichever ones you like."

"Perfect!" Sherrie said. "And Kenny, you're coming over too, right?"

"Yeah definitely! I'll probably look for swim shorts here," I deliberately mentioned, hoping to spur Belle and I along to whatever store we'd get her bikini at.

"Well, we'll let you guys go," Sherrie said. "Looking forward to seeing you two and Artie tomorrow. Kids, say bye to Auntie Belle and Uncle Kenny."

Ox patted my shoulder, curious. "What's with the suits, bro?"

"I'm gonna get them tailored somewhere here. Belle got them for me, for future job interviews."

"Oh nice. There's a good tailor I go to on the next block over. He works out of the suit joint, you can't miss it, it's got a red sign. I'll text him right now that you're heading over. He'll take care of you."

***

Belle and I continued on, crossing a street onto the next block. I abruptly stopped, recognizing the red storefront as the suit place Ox had mentioned.

"Belle, I think Ox gave his tailor in here a heads up to expect me."

"Wanna go in now?" she asked.

In my mind, I weighed my options. The sooner we went swimsuit shopping, the sooner I'd get to see Belle flipping through bikini options on hangers, feeling the fabric of the bra cups, gauging if they'd contour her cleavage just like in her photoshoots.

My conscience then suddenly flared up. I remembered what I'd told myself:

Healthy balance.

I'd have time to shop with Belle later. At the moment, Ox's tailor was expecting me. It'd be rude to keep him waiting.

"I think we should see the tailor first," I said.

"Sure thing." She playfully bumped me with her hip toward the store's entrance.

We walked into the suit shop, where fancy brands of men's suits were hung on racks. A well-dressed individual from the back popped out, as if on cue. "Hello sir, would you happen to be Ken?"

"Yup, that'd be me. I'm here with my—" I was about to say aunt, but I remembered Belle had preferred I didn't.

"Perfect, you two can follow me to the back."

Belle and I entered a private backroom with wooden panels for walls, where additional suits were also on display. A tall three-way mirror on an elevated platform sat on the far side.

Belle proceeded to tell the tailor about the suits she'd bought me, discussing its fabrics and imported material.

"Alright Ken," the tailor said, "go ahead and change into the first suit and I'll start taking measurements."

It took me a few seconds to process his words.

Shit.

I froze. With Belle in the room, was I being asked to change out in the open? I had ratty underwear on, probably with a hole or two in it. I didn't want the tailor to see that, much less Belle.

Wasn't there a changing booth I could go into? I looked around, and if there was, then my growing panic had blurred it from view. I'd never been to a tailor before, didn't know the etiquette. Was it rude to ask if I could change elsewhere? My paranoid brain imagined the worst, with the tailor saying,

"Why can't you change right here? What do you have to hide?"

I turned to Belle, who was now sitting in a leather chair. She hadn't recognized my predicament, too busy diddling on her phone. She chewed on a nail, a tiny smile sprouting on her face, responding to whatever was on her device's screen.

I needed to do something quick!

-Fuck. Think Ken...

-Hold on, I got it!

I asked the tailor, "Is there any bottled water? We've been walking a lot outside."

"Of course, sir," he said. "And ma'am, would you also like any refreshments? Champagne?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Belle replied, her head now up from her phone. Suddenly, it was as if she'd taken notice of my situation. "You know what, Ken, I think you've got this whole suit fitting under control. I'm gonna start looking for bikinis. Just text me when you've finished."

When Belle exited the room, I exhaled a mountain of relief, happy that my hole-filled underwear would continue existing in shadows.

"Okay sir, whenever you're ready, there's a small booth." The tailor handed me a bottled water, then pointed to the corner of the room. "You can change in there."

Wait, what!

I finally saw the doorknob. The inconspicuous changing booth blended seamlessly into the wood-paneled wall... I may have just panicked for nothing. Belle didn't have to leave after all, dammit!

I just hoped she wouldn't buy her bikini without me.

***

As I tried on my multiple suits, the tailor made small talk with me while taking various measurements. I just needed him to finish already. I wanted to find Belle!

If I was thinking rationally, then I would've reminded myself that I'd already experienced something with Belle way more erotic than swimwear shopping. The basement incident should've been enough to sate my desires for life.

In this moment though, I was greedy. The way I saw it, if I was shopping alongside her, Belle would ask me which bikini pairs I liked, then try out my selections in the dressing room, all while I waited just outside, so close to her fleeting moments of nudity while she changed. Then she'd swing the stall door open, asking me to render a verdict on the possible purchase, where I'd have a free pass to stare at her scantily clad body without guilt...

When the tailor finally finished, he told me I could come back next week to pick up the suits.

He had taken way longer than he needed to, babbling on and on, probably thinking it was good customer service. I didn't have the courage to tell him to speed the fuck up and skip the chatter.

I hurriedly changed back into my regular clothes, then texted Belle which store she was at. No response.

I exited the suit shop altogether, standing now on the pavement outside, calculating my next move. I then called her phone, but just got her voicemail.

Flustered, I briskly walked down the street, frantically scanning storefronts along the way. I passed by a designer handbag store. Nope. Then a jewelry store. Nope. Then I found a woman's clothing store, but it looked like it only sold formal dresses.

Fuck, man!

I needed to find any place that sold goddamn bikinis!

Finally, after covering a couple of blocks, I spotted a boutique storefront. Some female designer's name was on the signage, but I didn't know whose nor cared. I saw what I needed to see through the glass façade: Female swimwear on mannequins.

I took a deep breath, then walked in with a purpose, eyes searching for any semblance of long, honey blonde hair.

A young, female staffer greeted me. "Welcome!"

"Just browsing!" I spouted, rudely brushing her off. I went up and down the aisles, probably looking like a deranged person. Belle wasn't here.

Shit, why not?!

This fucking place had fit all the criteria!

"Can I help you find something?" The same female worker confronted me, now looking stern.

"I was wondering if you've seen a wom—" I said, then hesitated, revising my thoughts to sound less weird. "I was wondering if my aunt was in here? I lost her."

"What's she look like?"

"Tall. Blonde hair."

"That's like half our clientele. Can you be more specific?"

"Do you know the model Belle Adelson?" I had no reservations name-dropping her. There wasn't time to fuck around.

"Who's that?" she asked.

Then I saw what looked like commemorative card stock on the cashier stand. Belle was featured on one of the designs, posing seductively in a black bikini, advertising some brand.