Chapter 3: The 'Other Guy'.
"I said I'm a gambler, there's no question of that.
But never gamble on a woman and that's a matter of fact.
Just ain't no predictin' which way their love will roll.
One minute they're red-hot, the next they're icy-cold!"
- ELP - Love Beach: The Gambler.
My name's Robin. I grew up in BC. I'm what you call here up North a 'métis' - and a pretty mixed bag at that - part Micmac, part Kwakiutl, part Irish, part English, part Japanese (I think), plus some grandmother or great-grandmother from the Caribbean - Kingston or somewhere like that. Maybe there's other stuff. I won't bore you with my family history - it doesn't make much of a story. I got started on sex pretty early on, then got married in my early twenties. We had a kid - a girl. We started having problems - I guess I couldn't keep myself off the booze, or my hands off other chicks. We had this blazing row. I remember smashing the fish tank in a rage, and all those little goldfish flopping around helplessly on the carpet, opening and closing their mouths. That really hit me at the time, I don't know why. We split and I took to the road.
From then on I just wandered about - no fixed address, or not for long periods anyway. I suppose you'd call me a drifter or a bum, but I wasn't. I was just exploring. The world seemed beautiful - it was just me that didn't fit in somehow. I'd write a lot - poems, stories and stuff, some erotic, some not. I'd no problem finding work - I was a fairly decent cook - and even got some of my stuff published along the way. Sex was my thing for the moment. I was real, real hungry for it - like you wouldn't believe - and decided simply to focus on getting well and truly laid. I followed the philosophy of the 'four F's - Find, Feel, Fuck and Forget. I'd no problem carrying it through. I had 'em in all colors, shapes and sizes, up and down Canada and the US as well as in Western Europe, and got to break in quite a few virgins along the way. There were also quite a few threesomes - MFM and FMF (sorry about the letter order, but I like to think of them as Big Macs). I really dug the last one, but I also liked the first - especially when the chick in question is married and looking for something new and hot. I'm bi, you see. It's twice as much fun. And anyway, if some sad fuck wants to watch me ball his wife or girlfriend, that's his problem, it's fine with me. Let him watch, maybe he'll learn something. I liked to film myself balling the chicks whenever I could. I'd jerk off over them in those very rare but unavoidable 'dry' periods - then I'd also some connections to the porn scene and sold some of these videos to buddies who ran the shops- the cubicles and stuff - just as a sideline.
You see, I'm a real cool fucker. I'm not boasting - it's just my talent. Some of us are great at tennis, chess and so on, but me, I really know how to turn on the chicks - like, how to give 'em exactly what they want - and more than they'll ever want. I like to have 'em screaming at the end of my rod, begging for more. No two chicks are alike as the saying goes, and after I'm through with them, no two are ever the same again.
Then I met this really cool chick. She blew me over. As for the four-F bit, I'd no problem with her over the first three, but somehow, I couldn't do the last - I just couldn't forget her. To this day I still don't know how she managed to checkmate me on this game.
I'd gone back to the city where I'd been married and was staying there for a while, drowning my memories in luscious flesh - which was plentiful and freely available. I often came up that part of the High Street called the 'Sin Strip', checking out the porn scene, the girls on the game, the strip clubs and so on. I had quite a few connections and made some contribution to the business from time to time.
When I came up this way, there was this general store I'd go to for smokes, groceries and stuff. It was there I first saw her. I'd never seen her there before - she must have been new. She was fucking gorgeous - I got an instant hard-on the moment I set eyes on her. A really cool blonde with this fabulous body - tall, leggy, wide hips. She had terrific eyes - like blue crystals - and a very direct, bold look. This really turns me on to chicks. When I paid for my stuff and she gave me my change, I just couldn't help taking hold of her fingers - her hand was so long, slender and delicately female. She looked up at me and smiled. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment and I ran my fingers over the back of her hand. She lowered her head slightly, still fixing on me, still smiling. Her tongue flickered out between her lips. She was clearly giving me the come-on - she was getting hot inside. But that was a normal chick reaction to me, right? Trouble was - so was I. I introduced myself.
"Hi, I'm Robin."
"And I'm Ela - with one 'L'," she said, looking back at me mischievously. Other customers were queuing up behind me.
"See you around babe," I said.
"I hope so," she replied. "I'm on tomorrow morning, by the way."
From that moment on I knew I just had to ram my rod into that chick or die trying. The next day, when there were few customers, we got talking some more, then when she was through I took her out for a coffee. She was East European, but her English was good - real slangy, with just a trace of an accent - one that really turned me on. I'd never had one of these East European types. I'd heard they had great tits and were like wildcats in bed. We sat very close, almost breathing on each other. The sound of her voice and the scent of her breath made my dick swell up like an overgrown pumpkin. I felt we were making out real good. Then she told me about her husband.
Husband?' I thought. Damn - there's always one lurking about somewhere, but maybe he'll be a wimp and I'll get my chance.
I sensed what the game was now. Here was another little wifey out for some fun. And what a body! I wasn't going to pass up on this one. I decided to lead her on by telling her what a terrific stud I was. It seemed to work. Her eyes grew brighter, her voice got lower, she seemed to breathe quicker. She decided to call me Rob, telling me I was a 'bird of prey'.
They were playing this old ELP album in the café, 'Love Beach' I think it's called. I think you're hungry, woman, I thought, echoing the song. Climb on my rocket and we'll ride.
She suggested I come out with her and her husband for a drink.
I thought he was a bit of a smart-ass, intellectual type when I met him, but he was a neat guy all the same. We went out onto the High Street next evening, just for a drink. Then Ela suddenly pulled us into a strip club. I knew the place - I'd got to fuck some of the girls who worked there. I could sense Ela was getting pretty turned on by those kids. There must be this really wild chick inside her trying to get out, I thought. We went backstage to meet the strippers. Ela was very excited and chatted then up. They took to her right off, telling her she had a terrific body and could join them any time she wanted. I was busy fighting off a couple of them I'd fucked recently. Then Paul obviously had enough of all this shit and dragged us back out onto the street. We went into the bar next to the strip joint.
We began loosening up as the booze hit us and Ela and I started playing around - all this romantic crap - laughing and giggling away. I'd stroke her hand and tell her what a 'wonderful woman' she was, how I was secretly in love with her and all that crap and she'd pretend to faint with desire. It was just a game - for Paul's benefit really - although we both knew what lay underneath the show. Paul didn't seem to mind, just sat there, grinning stupidly. Eventually we got round to talking about sex. I told them I'd been married, but that we'd separated, that there was a little girl, that I was doing fine here though, there were so many great sexy chicks around. Ela had heard all this before of course, but pretended she was hearing it for the first time. Paul clearly didn't know jack shit about our meeting the previous day - she must've kept it secret. I worked on them both a bit more by telling them about some of the ones I was balling at the moment, about some of the cherries I'd popped recently. I watched their reactions. Ela's gaze was fixed on mine, her eyes glistening, the tip of her tongue just visible between her slightly parted lips.
But Paul suddenly decided he didn't want to hear any more of this crap and changed the subject, starting in on this big intellectual lecture about something or other. I felt Ela's bare foot running up and down my leg. She'd slipped both shoes off under the table and was now looking at me steadily with those gorgeous eyes, lightly flicking the tip of her tongue. Fucking hell! Now she was really hitting on me! Paul didn't seem to notice. My cock swelled up like a balloon. She moved her bare foot up to my crotch and began working on it. My cock was so stuffed in there it hurt. I slowly put one hand under the table and unzipped my fly. Old Dick shot out like a Jack-in the-box, uncurling and stiffening fully in the cool air, reaching for the sunlight. What a relief! It found Ela's warm toes. She was so skilful with them she almost managed to grasp hold of it. I gave her a hand, rubbing the head of my cock along the insides of her toes. They got moist and sticky. Then she began easing herself down in her seat, never once taking her eyes off me, sticking that luscious tongue of hers out even further. I felt her bring the other foot into play. She grasped my cock firmly between them and began gently moving her feet up and down. I've got great control, you know - the result of lots of practice - but with my cock in the firm grip of those warm feet, looking at those cool, blue eyes, I felt I was going to burst. Why not? I thought. Let's go for it. But at that very moment Ela suddenly burst into a helpless fit of giggles and sat up, dropping both feet to the floor, desperately trying to stifle her laughter. For a moment I couldn't see what was so funny - then I got it. Paul was being so fucking serious, staring glassy-eyed into the distance and giving this great sermon like a bishop or something, he hadn't the faintest clue what was going on. I just couldn't help myself either and burst out laughing with her. He looked wildly at each of us in turn with a face like Christ on the cross. That only made it worse. I don't remember how we finally recovered. I somehow managed to stuff my protesting dick back into my pants and zip myself up without Paul noticing. My sides were aching like hell. Ela managed to persuade Paul he'd said something really funny, that he was like, so totally fucking brilliant. He swallowed it.
That night as soon as I was back in my room, I stripped and stood at the foot of my bed, legs apart. There she was before me in my mind's eye, stark naked, her creamy white body laid out, her golden hair spilling wildly about, her long legs spread apart, ready to grip my thighs, bare feet showing their yellow soles. Her hips were thrust out and her tits were sticking up, two gorgeous dark patches surrounding her nipples, which were as stiffly erect as my cock. In the center of her rich, prominent bush, I could see the pink lips of her pussy dribbling with juice. She was looking at me, eyes wide open, tensely expectant, her tongue thrust out between her lips. I moved forward. She lifted her head to kiss me as I gently lay on top of her. The soft, warm pressure of her body against mine set my skin on fire. Climb on my rocket and we'll ride, baby! I imagined my cock brushing delicately against the moist lips of her pussy, then the smooth, tight grasp of her juicy cunt as I thrust in. She gasped, and the warm scent of her breath was intoxicating. Yep, there she was at last, twisting about, screaming, helplessly impaled on Old Dick!
