Free Lunch

I was released from the hospital late on Monday afternoon, armed with prescriptions for oral medications. My neck looked almost normal. I still had a sore tight knot.

What I had was a necrotic lymph node, which I understood to be an infection of my lymph glands. Ten days of antibiotics should bring that under control, I was told; a follow up visit would determine if minor surgery would be needed.

"Necrotic" was going to be my word of the week. It sounded like there was something dead and nasty in me.

I walked home to dive head first into email and work. A good night’s sleep, and I was back into it on Tuesday. I had a lot to do before Wednesday, when I would once again have the kids. Parenting would then take over my life through the long weekend.

I despaired about sex. It had been a week since the most recent orgy, and I had spent several days of that time in the hospital. With so much time lost for work, and with the kids to be with me all weekend, I was looking at a long dry spell.

Two weeks. From one orgy until the next. Would there be time for sex in the interim?

As I worked, I got an instant message from Marla. She’s been busy most nights with a new boy in her neighborhood. He’s good, she tells me, but lacking in oral skills and not really one for restraining her as she likes. Could I fit her in for lunch?

Just what the doctor ordered.

A few moments later, she emailed: could she bring a surprise?

I do not look a gift horse in the mouth.

She shows up at my door—with Jake. And about a half hour for sex before she has to be back at her office.

There’s only one rub. Jake is in my neighborhood fresh from a doctor’s appointment. He’s been tested for STIs and allergies, and this has left him feeling that he wants a good dose of abstinence. He had self-prescribed a twenty-four hour sexual detox, never realizing he would wind up on my doorstep with Marla.

Jake is true to his resolutions. He sits by as I undress Marla, drop my clothes, and get to work on her pussy. I let her clit hood piercing rattle against my teeth as I lick and tug and suck, getting her off.

But the clock had been running.

“I’m going to owe you, because I have to run,” she said. Go, go, I said: don’t be late. We don’t want to ruin our quickies. She pulled on her clothes, checked her make up, kissed us both and trotted off.

“So,” Jake said, when she was gone. “Can I take you to lunch?”