Maing a Deal

In a way that Ed thought must prove that insanity was contagious, he had actually gone into Day One of his wife's meticulously planned infidelity with a positive attitude. Relatively positive. Okay, he hadn't had a sense of

complete

despair by that point, and that was for one big reason alone.

Their weekend

pre-game

had been, frankly, amazing. Michelle was passionate, caring, attentive, responsive, giving, energetic, adventurous... and Ed felt like he could do nothing more than hold on for dear life for nearly forty-eight hours straight. There was an actual moment when, after having forcibly engaged in a lot of denial, he wondered if her plan might not have some merit. Their sex had never been as good as on that weekend; not even during their honeymoon, he had to admit.

During the whole loony exchange he had with his wife about her

deal

, Ed knew that he hadn't wanted to fuck Katja, that was the honest truth, and he instinctively knew that he wouldn't be, despite Michelle's promises, but if he could endure her affair for a mere four weeks... and could force himself to believe her reassurances that the whole thing was purely academic... the fruits were potentially very, very sweet.

So Monday came and went with him blissfully ignorant of anything about that morning's session at the Novaks'. Hell, Michelle had even seemed reluctant about her plans when he'd said goodbye before leaving, which had sparked an ember of hope in Ed that his wife wasn't completely lost. The whole week too, she was the same, warm, happy partner he had known since forever... then he came home early that first Friday, and reality bitch-slapped him until its hand was blood-red.

It hadn't even been that he heard the love of his life shout that he was a

willow...

it was the shout itself. The shout, the

scream

, and every guttural, animalistic noise that came with it. Zenith weekend or no zenith weekend, he'd never forced sounds like that from Michelle.

After that, he was done. It was done.

They

were done. There was no coming back. He could never be with Michelle again without knowing, despite anything she said, that she would always yearn for something else that he wasn't giving her. The death of trust, the loss of confidence... that would kill any intimacy they could have forever.

It finally got through his delusional skull that the Michelle Lawrence that he'd joined his life to was essentially gone, and the elegy had been screeched out of Dominik Fucking Novak's bedroom window.

Even knowing how desperately he would always love her, Ed began making his peace with the fact that his marriage, his life, was over, and all that was left was to get the paperwork in order. That Friday was busy for him; the realtor, then the park to center himself and gather his resolve... then the research into good divorce attorneys. The activity focused him, and when, that night, Michelle had tried to tempt him into bed, he was able to rebuff her.

When he'd closed the guestroom door on her misery-laden pleas, he realized that the cost of his strength was merely his heart. It was a small price... what use did he have for it anymore anyways?

__________

Another Monday morning.

Ed tossed some bread to the ducks in the pond a few feet from the park bench that was quickly becoming his favorite place in the world.

I hope she's taking good notes. Been years since she's been in school, after all

. His bitter laugh was louder than he meant it to be.

"Did they say something funny? I never knew that American waterfowl were so evolved."

The voice was light and amused. It didn't fit with the way the world really was, and Ed became annoyed, but he stowed the urge to lash out. In the end, he knew it wasn't her fault. Not the biggest part, at least.

"If I remember right, it got leaked a while ago that comedian ducks are part of a secret CIA program to subsidize the grain industry." He turned and tried to force a smile. What he produced was close enough, he guessed. "I mean, how can you

not

keep feeding the little buggers when they've worked so hard on their act?"

Katja Novak barked out a laugh as her brows raised in delight. "Where I grew up, we knew that your CIA was nefarious, but apparently we had no real idea."

Without asking, she took a seat next to Ed on the bench, and when he gave a brief look at her, he wished he hadn't. The sundress she wore--pink and white floral print, with a swooping, cleavage-exposing neck and tight against her toned core and rippling rump--was breathtaking.

She

was breathtaking, and he was absolutely sure that, even if she was in a goddamned potato sack, Katja Novak would draw every eye for a mile.

Just what I need, another beautiful woman to fuck with my head.

"Well, maybe not just your head."

Ed blinked twice before he realized that he'd muttered that last bit aloud and that she wasn't reading his mind, and then blinked again when it registered what Katja was saying. Grimacing, he held up his hands to forestall her when she leaned towards him with a mischievous grin. "Whoa... I... I'm not sure what exactly you came here for..."

"

Followed

you for, Edward." Katja tilted her head coquettishly. "The minute that Misha entered my home this morning, I left it. She may have forgotten, but a deal is a deal, and it's time for your side of it to be filled."

"I never agreed to that." Ed narrowed his eyes, abandoning civility. "She... all three of you... figured that you could make my decision for me. I'll give it to you straight, I never wanted any part of it, and every compromise I made up till now was coerced. Made under duress, even." He stood abruptly, and Katja actually had to catch herself from falling forward, she'd leaned so close. "But now that's done. So, Katja of Slovenia... welcome to America. I hope you, and your piece-of-shit husband, and the clinically insane woman who used to be my wife have a long, happy life in Uncle Sam's welcoming embrace, but I won't be around to see it."

Ed was a yard or so into his dramatic exit when he heard Katja's thick, emotional mutter behind him. "You don't deserve this... and she doesn't deserve you." A pause, then the kicker. "And you're right. Dominik is a complete piece of shit."

Cursing himself for an utter idiot, Ed turned to look at the woman, and she gazed back up at him with red eyes and runny nose.

God fucking dammit.

He ran a palm down his face, sighing.

"Katja... would you like to get some coffee?"

__________

The bistro was a favorite of Ed's--and Michelle, but that didn't bear dwelling on--so the staff greeted him warmly when they arrived, by name even, and Katja grinned at him in delight. "Edward, a charmer wherever you go, it seems."

He grunted, a bit embarrassed when the cute, punky-haired young woman behind the counter started making his usual brew automatically. "I'm a charmer wherever I spend money, at least." Katja just murmured noncommittally at that and followed him to a corner table. Ed, heeding a sudden, unexamined instinct, chose one that was fairly secluded; out of view of the wider dining area.

Once seated, and after his guest and he both got their drinks, Ed levelled a long look at Katja, choosing to dispense with pointless social graces. "All right, what are you thinking? Disparaging Michelle and your husband... I thought you were in on this whole boondoggle?"

"Do you remember my call," Katja glanced away briefly, "

that night

?" Her ruby lips curled a bit into a small, sad smile. "I meant it. I am sorry for what I did. Or, really, what I didn't do. What Misha told you was absolutely true, for what it's worth. I was... very excited at the thought of being with you, but when I saw you and your wife, saw your true feelings for her..." She shook her head. "I realized how fucking horrible we were all being."

"Won't hear me argue." Ed stared daggers at her, but once she began wilting under his gaze, he found that he really didn't want to hurt her.

Fuck, she did try to do the right thing, at least.

Sighing, he shook his head. "Okay, look, I appreciate the gesture, but I have to ask, what changed now? Why are you... giving it another go?"

"I won't lie and say that it's only for you... but it is mostly for you." Katja looked back at him with cautious hope. "As I said, you don't deserve this, and if you knew the half..." She stopped and took another tact. "You... need to get something for yourself, Edward, and I am very much more than happy to help you do it. Not from guilt, but from... hope. This is, how do you put it here? This is a Hail-Martha."

"Hail-Mary... holy shit."

Making Ed's eyes bulge so hard they had to have been close to rolling out and plopping into the forgotten mug in his hand, Katja casually, unhesitatingly, pulled down the neck of her low-cut sundress and bared one of her braless breasts to the world, displaying it fully in all its tanned, perky perfection. Then she smiled guilelessly and gave it a playful jiggle.

"Kat! What the hell?" Ed's voice started high and ended in a whispery hiss as prudence took over. "What are you doing?"

"Declaring my intentions." Her look was pure earnestness; no sly schemes to be found. "I want you to be with me, and I am showing you how much." Her smile deepened. "How much... for now. As we go, there will be more and better, I assure you."

Ed found that he was unconsciously shaking his head, even as his eyes were riveted. "Kat, this is America, the land of violent prudes. You... you could be kicked out, fined, maybe more if the wrong biddy sees you and calls the cops. Hell, you could full-arm slap me right now and cause less of a stir in here." He mustered the willpower to look around, and saw that, thus far, no one had caught them. Only a matter of time, though.

"True. I suppose you should defend my virtue quickly." Katja, in one smooth move, took his nerveless arm and put his hand right over her exposed flesh. "There, crisis averted."

Squeeze and a flick. Ed's base instincts born from years of ministrations of his wife took over for a heartbeat, and he responded to the sudden presence of such sublimity with an instant of selfishness. A second of actually letting himself enjoy what was given.

Katja gave a little moan at the move. "Mmm. That is very nice, thank-you." Apparently taking it as approval, or even an invitation, she freed the boob's twin, then finally showed a bit of playfulness and tilted her head with a grin. "I am going to keep doing this until you make a decision, Edward." Her toes, now slipped out of her sandals, found his crotch and began wriggling. "Bring me somewhere out of the eyes of the public, or share me with the world. Will you be my shining white knight, sir?"

How they managed to get up off the table, throw an unknown amount of cash down, and get through the dining area with Kat's tits bouncing and no one freaking out was lost in the fog that filled Ed's skull. They did, though, and in seconds they burst through the door to one of the single-occupant restrooms in the back hallway of the bistro.

Kat's lips were on Ed's even before the thing shut behind them, and her hands were tearing at his belt buckle feverishly. Her hums and grunts of impatience and need were a complimentary backdrop to the beat pounding through Ed's entire body. Fingers working without any input from him, he pulled the spaghetti straps of her sundress off her shoulder and down her arms, even as he hiked up the skirt around her waist and pressed himself to her against the wall, all while slavering her with his lips on her velvet skin.

It was only when Kat triumphed over his belt and began undoing his pants that reality crashed down and Ed pulled back. "Katja... I... oh hell, this is..."

She seemed ready for this. "Edward, I know that you feel guilt about this, despite any plans made on your behalf." She was breathing heavy as she spoke, making that elegant chest--such a contrast to his wife's voluminosity--bob up and down before his eyes, and the words came out in a breathy tangle. "I... I'm glad. It's why I..." She swallowed. "I will tell you this. Right now, your wife and my husband are fucking... and not for the

third

time." Her icy blue eyes locked onto his to convey what she wasn't saying. To make sure he understood. Her thumb made one light, tender, sympathetic stroke against his bearded cheek.

Ed snarled. He actually, audibly snarled, and then proceeded to scoop a hand under Kat's exposed thigh, lift it, and then shove his hate-boner right into her panty-less twat, evoking a gasp and a rounding of her eyes at the quick turn of events.

"Oh! Oh... tha... ah!" Kat yelped when Ed began thrusting. "Hah, ungh, keep... keep doing..." She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him with both hands. "Fi... finally... oh my god..." She began milking him with her vaginal muscles in a way that Ed had never experienced, and he groaned into her golden hair when she pressed her face into his neck. "Ah, ahh, ahhhhh!" Only seconds into their frenetic mating, and Katja was already quaking around him. "Ohhh helllll..."

Ed scooped her up and laid her bare back on the tiled floor. Admittedly, the moment of passion was muted a bit while he checked to make sure it was clean enough, but, once satisfied, he proceeded to ravage the Slovene woman with a renewed fervor. For her part, Katja became unwilling, maybe unable, to hold her voice and began moaning out encouragement and expletive both, until, inevitably, an insistent pounding on the restroom door cut through the pair's atavistic lust.

"Doctor Lawrence... um, we... uh..." Whichever staff member it was sounded like she'd rather have been doing anything else right then. "You can't... do it in there. There's, um... we have a rule about it."

"Fuck off!" Kat's shrill answer was followed immediately by her back arching and a long, drawn out, high-pitched screech as she hit her second, much bigger climax. "Fuck. Right. OFF!"

Hips being griped with muscle-corded thighs, Ed matched her groans and emptied himself into his ravishingly-sexy neighbor in that cramped little shitter, only vaguely aware of how much of a fucking left-turn his life had taken. His one acquiescence to the faceless, impromptu public-sex-constable outside was for him to stuff his mouth with Katja's trembling tit to muffle his sounds. Of course, that did nothing for the noises

she

was making... other than up the volume.

After the longest minute in history, Ed and Katja recovered enough to look into each other's eyes and... laugh. They both began chortling at the ridiculousness of it all, a ridiculousness made all the more so when he felt himself stiffening within the resplendent creature beneath him once again. With supreme effort on his part, and happy sighs on hers, he extracted his length from her sensitive sheath inch-by-inch, slowly, and sat back on his haunches. "We... should go."

"Oh should we?" Kat looked up at him through strands of mussed, wild hair like she was drunk. "I don't want to."

Neither do I.

It was true. If he had his way, he'd be going for round two right there on the tile. The problem was, he knew that round two would be brought to a tragic end by the door-pounder out there who was getting desperate. So, with a grumble of regret, he began making himself presentable, and Katja reluctantly followed suit.

Putting her various protrusions back into her little sundress, Kat shot Ed a very serious look all of a sudden. "We will part for today, Edward, but I will be texting you a proposition tonight. I am asking you, from the depths of my being, please consider it." She leaned forward and planted her lips on his for a long, tongue-filled span. "Sleep on it."

Not knowing what to say, Ed just nodded and then opened the door to face the music. Having stepped back, the young, punky bistro employee stared at them with lips pressed tightly together; first at Katja with something he would have called envy, except he knew that couldn't be right, then at him with...

Huh. If this was a movie, the next scene would be her shoving me back into that restroom and...

Rolling his eyes and calling himself dumb, he and Katja parted ways and made for two different exits, this time grabbing each and every stare on the way. Every stare, and not a single word. It was a hell of a thing.

__________

Tuesday noon, the very next day, Ed was praising every star in the sky that he decided to give Katja's text its due consideration.

--

Dominik will go to work on Tuesday at his restaurant, but plans to duck out before midday and come back to watch for you to leave. Do so, and come to me

.--

Straight to the point and coldly brutal in its simplicity. With that little missive, Ed knew that Michelle would be breaking the deal in more ways than one, whether or not she knew it herself at that point, and would be fucking her lover in their home, in their marital bed itself, if he had to guess.

So, equal exchange being equal exchange, Edward Lawrence now found himself in Dominik Novak's bed, fucking Dominik Novak's wife, and making

her

cum on

his

cock. Balance; a beautiful thing.

He just hoped that someone had changed the sheets since the day before.

"Mmmmm..." Katja's breathy exhalation was full of purring contentment as Ed rolled off of her. The woman let out a long, happy sigh and snuggled herself into him, pressing as much of her sweaty skin against his as possible, and planted a series of tender kisses across his chest with naked affection. Ed curled an arm around her and just held her tight. "This is just as I imagined it would be, Edward." She stroked his chest lightly. "You... care."

Ed laughed sheepishly. "I... yeah, I guess that's right. Dumb as it makes me sound, I always wondered what the point was without... feeling something. I don't..." He looked down at his bedmate, gauging what he was going to say. "I don't love you, Kat." He chuckled. "Surprise surprise, after only two days, right? But you've done a lot for me, and I want you to understand how much that means to me, so... thank-you."

Katja propped herself up and locked eyes with him, deadly serious. "Any time. I mean that." After a heartbeat, she broke the frozen moment with a sly smirk. "But if you truly want to thank me, you will..." Now it was her turn to consider her words. "You will let me help you. In the way I was meant to from the beginning."

Ed frowned. "Like, teach me?" He began to grow increasingly perturbed, and embarrassed, truth be told. "Fuck. Of course. Second-best Ed. Just good enough to beat the boredom. It makes sense, seeing as how--"

Without warning, Katja swung her legs over Ed's body so she was straddling him, and took his jaw in both hands. "Never. Never on this planet will that be the case, Doctor Edward Lawrence." The look on her face was severely serious. "Is a rocket scientist second place to a CEO? They lie in two separate realms, and there is no comparing them. You, my sweet, sweet lover, are a builder of wonders, a sculptor possessing of innate depths that can never be taught. What

can

be taught, however, is how to..." She waved a hand absently. "...decorate a home. Small, comparatively, but still a good skill to have if you want a happy wife." She smiled at him to make sure to convey the intent of what she was saying.

Ed wanted to believe her. Needed to, but... "Michelle, out of anyone, should agree with that." His eyes crinkled in fury. "But, with

him

..." His mouth twisted. "She showed how wrong you are."

Katja sat up there, staring down at him in all her glistening, naked glory, and nodded once. "Ask me."