SideChicks by Valorie M Taylor

The Montegue Golf Course in the Ventura, California received Lore’s Black Bentley with approving nods.

“You want me to go with you, Lore?” asked MacBeth scanning the entrance.

"I’d better handle this one alone.” She pushed her way out of the back and stood up on 4” stilettos donning ankle-cropped faded jeans and a lightweight sweater that revealed her shoulder. Determined and angry behind her dark designer sunglasses, her tuft of African curls bouncing with each step, Lore stormed into the pro shop.

“May I help you?” asked a seasoned clerk.

“You may. I’m here to see Donald Krantz.”

“We don’t have a Donald Krantz working here. I’m sorry.” he said dismissively.

“You’re right. He doesn’t work here,” said Lore quite calmly. “But he plays golf here every Wednesday and today is Wednesday.”

“I’m afraid this is a private club and—“

“I know. I’m a member. I’m in no mood to walk the entire course to find him.”

The clerk raised his eyebrows.

“Let’s cut to the chase…” she read his name tag,“Arnie. Summons your boss Edmond.”

“You, you mean Mr. Fairchild.”

“I know him as Edmond.”

The clerk froze.

Lore reached over the counter and picked up the telephone receiver. “Tell him Lore is here.”

A 6’4” round man walked in. “No need, Arnie.” He held his arms out. “Lore.”

She hugged him hurriedly. “I need your help, Edmond.”

“Come into my office.”

They disappeared behind Mr. Fairchild’s door to Arnie’s astonishment.

“I was watchin’ you on our closed circuit tv. You’re beautiful, Lore, even in scratchy black and white.”

“I need your help, Ed.”

“What can I do?”

“I need you to get Don Krantz for me. I know he’s here.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Now, you of all people know I cannot discuss that.”

Edmond studied the seriousness in Lore’s eyes for a few moments. Then he picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke. “Arnie, take a cart and find Donald Krantz and bring him back. Be discreet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks, Edmond.” Lore bulldozed out of his office and waited behind the pro shop.

“Oh, Don, look,” said his golf buddy Sheldon holding on as Arnie drove fast. “This is bad.”

“What?” asked Don finally noticing Lore waiting where she knew Arnie would stop the cart.

“Don,” said Sheldon, “this doesn’t look good.”

“Shut-up! Let me do the talking.”

The cart came to a stop. Don got out and handed Arnie a five dollar tip. “Lore.”

“You’ve been avoiding my calls, Don.”

Sheldon exited the cart and waved Arnie away.

“Lore, please. I’ve had some things going on. I paid you.”

“Where is she, Don?”

He shrugged. “Who?”

“Who?” She snatched her sunglasses off. “Liset, that’s who.”

“Lore,” he said nonchalantly. “We had our time and she left.”

She glared at him and then at Sheldon who refused to look her in the eye. “You’re lying.”

“What reason would I have to lie? Besides,” said Donald, “I liked Liset. She was a sweet thing. I’d like to see her again.”

“Stop it! Shut-up!” She put her finger in his face. “Don’t you say her name.”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on here?” asked the skinny plastics manufacturer. “Do I detect a little jealousy? You and Liset together?”

Lore settled herself and breathed slowly.

Donald and Sheldon were smug and condescending sharing a look and grimacing.

Lore was convinced they held a secret. She smiled with her mouth but not her eyes. “I’ll be in touch.” She slid her sunglasses back on and strode to her car.

Inside the solitude of her Bentley, Lore’s breath came fast. She wanted to cry. Scream. Run. She lifted her cell phone from her purse and spoke into it. “Blackbone.”

“Calling,” said the automated voice, “Blackbone.”

After two rings, a man with a rough Brittish accent answered, “Lore. What a pleasure.”

“I need Liset found, Mr. Blackbone.”

“Skipped town or missing?” he asked.

“…I don’t know.”

“It’s done,” he replied and hung up.

MacBeth started the car and drove them away.

“So, Vetta,” asked Lore anxiously of her Associate on the phone. “How was Paris?”

“Amazing!” answered the young woman. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better time. William was so much fun.”

“So it was good to get him away.”

“Right? A totally different person. Relaxed, funny even.”

“Check your account, Vetta,” said Lore enjoying the news she shared with her. “There’s a bonus in there for you.”

“Are you serious! Oh wow! Thanks, Lore, You’re the best!”

“Enjoy it and thanks for being such a great Associate.”

Just then, the doorbell rang interrupting Lore’s flow. The doorbell rang again and again. “Excuse me, Vetta.” Lore stepped into the hallway and called out, “Juanita? Francois?”

She walked to the top of the staircase. “Juanita? MacBeth?” No one replied. The doorbell rang again and again.

“Vetta,” she said into the phone clicking her computer to view the surveillance camera. “I’ll have to chat with you later.”

“No worries, Lore. Thanks again.”

Lore hung up. She raced down the stairs, threw the door open and was met with a bouquet of tender red roses. She smiled and looked into eyes she knew very well. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped in and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I heard about Liset. I cleared my calendar and rushed over.”

Lore rested her head on his chest and with an exhausted sigh whispered. “Thank you, Bill.”

He pushed past her and lifted a canvas bag as he walked backwards to the kitchen. “Champagne, caviar, your favorite truffles and…” He reached into the bag and produced a handful of “grapes.”

She closed the door and smiled. “…Grapes? Not one of my favorites, Bill.”

He handed the bag off to MacBeth whose smirk told Lore she was in on it and he walked back to Lore. He placed a succulent kiss on her neck. “…Grapes are my favorite and you’re gonna feed them to me. You remember how?”

Lore’s mind raced back to their all week sex-fest in a Grecian villa. “I’ve got another Associate starting tonight and—“

He reached around her and slid her dress zipper down her back. “MacBeth can start her later.” “I’m worried about Liset, Bill.”

He dropped her dress on the floor and scooped her up into his arms. “Not today.”

He carried her to the white sofa and wrapped her long brown legs around his waist. He peeled her pretty lace bra strap from her shoulders and her breast fell into his greedy mouth. Lore’s head fell back as he moaned and sucked her nipple. He laid her length on the sofa and tore off his shirt and pants.

He reached for her foot, removed her sandal and kissed unhurried path to her inner thigh. Lore languished on the sofa surrendering to the moment orchestrated by Bill.

Bill bit at her lacey panties steaming her with his breath.

Lore’s eyes closed and she relaxed even further as he kissed and licked her like an ice cream. She moved slowly to his rhythm. Then he plucked a grape from the vine and slipped it into her.

“You’re gonna hold this for me, huh?”

Lore chuckled. “…I’m gonna try.”

He kissed and licked some more. “…You know what’ll happen if you let go, right?”

“Mmmm, yes. I get another one.”

She was so smooth, perfumed and warm. Lore was sweet cream on the tip of his tongue. Her ecstasy made music in the room. She came and released the little grape.

Bill laughed, pinched another grape from the vine and slid it into his lover. He lifted Lore’s hips and flipped her over on the sofa. Her bouncy brown ass invited his kisses and folly. He tickled her clit with his finger and slid another finger deep into her ass. Lore moaned and bucked against him releasing another grape.

He laughed again. “That’s two.” He grabbed her hips and plunged his dick into her moist crevice. She received him with a shout. Her body wanted him never to stop. His repeated thrusts drove Lore further and further away from her troubles and closer and closer to the height of pleasure.

Bill withdrew from her and sat on the sofa. She mounted him and bucked against him.

“You’re so fucking good, Lore!”

“It’s my business, remember?”

Bill cupped her breasts and helped himself to them as if offered a never ending dessert. And there it was; that moment when carnal worship pays off. Hands reach and grip to keep from falling. Air no longer exists. Every muscle tightens and you linger unconcerned somewhere between certain death and pure heaven. Bill and Lore came together explosively, unapologetically filling her living room with their orgasmic sighs; some ancient utterance designed long before language was formed.

The sugar and coffee colored couple fell over on the sofa from exhaustion and laughed. She touched his hair and wiped sweat from his brow. “I guess I owe you thanks.” She kissed his mouth. “Thank you, lover.”

“No,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked. “You, Bill Harrisburg, could have any woman in L.A.”

A tinkling bell lit the silence around them.

"What’s that?” asked Bill.

I believe it’s MacBeth’s way of letting us know we have caviar and champagne waiting on the patio.” She stood up and grabbed his hand. “Follow me.”

They bounded naked out the patio door to find a gorgeous spread of caviar, figs, champagne and crackers. “Mmmm.”

He watched her indulge in the caviar and said “I’m choosing you, Lore.”

“Awww. That’s sweet.” She pecked the tip of his nose and spread more caviar on a cracker.

“I’m serious, Lore. I want us to be together.”

She bit, chewed quickly and swallowed. “We can be. For fifteen thousand dollars a month. No more freebies and no discount,” she teased.

“No, you’re not understanding me.”

“No, Bill, you’re not understanding me,” she fired back. “I love what you did for me today. You’re married and I cannot allow myself to get caught up in a relationship that only looks like the real thing.”

Lore walked away and descended into her infinity pool. The cool water enveloped her and she closed her eyes.

Bill dove in next to her disturbing her peace. He shook the water from his face. “Why can’t you allow yourself to just imagine what a real life would be like?”

She laughed. “A real life? Bill, this is my real life.”

“A life with me.”

She swam forward and wrapped her legs around his waist. She drew him forward and kissed him passionately. “Don’t think I’m not tempted, Bill. I’m a real woman. Really I am.”

“Then, let’s—“

“Sshh, sshhhh,” she said putting her finger to his lips. “This is our reality, huh? Caviar, champagne, grapes at 11:30 in the morning. Clearing our calendars for an afternoon of fucking.”

“Lore, don’t say—“

“Bill!”

He looked at her wide-eyed and anxiously.

She smiled and whispered, “this is us.”