Invite her in.

I was immediately struck by Donna’s beauty and her coldness. She wore a fashionable business suit with large, gaudy sunglasses. An expensive white leather purse perched in the crook of her arm. And if this whole outfit didn’t read, “I have money” enough she actually wore white gloves.

As she walked into the apartment, she hands me a coat she has thrown over her other shoulder says, “Put this away for me, and be careful—I’m sure it’s worth more than the monthly rent…here” she says gesticulating with disgust at our modest home. Oh, I’m going to enjoy breaking this one in. But for now, I play cool. I’ve decided the slow burn is the way to go with this bitch.

“Of course, ma’am,” I take the coat and gesture to the living room. “Have a seat here, I’m sure Adam will be out soon. I hope you don’t mind but he’s decided to cook here instead of going out, he’ll be done soon, and we’ll have brunch here.” I knew this because the thought had occurred to me that it’d be quite hard to fuck Donna in an open café, so I texted Adam at around 2 a.m. to tell him to get stuff to make a nice brunch. He’d had to drive all the way across town to find an all-night grocery that’d carry all the things I’d asked for—but I really do prefer the fresh, organic brown eggs. At least, I’m pretty sure I would. Last I’d checked on him he was in a flurry in the kitchen with dark bags set beneath his eyes.

I fetched Donna a cup of coffee and sat cup and saucer on the side table next to her. I sat, anxious to begin our conversation. As I started Cass drifted in and greeted her with a polite hug that was mostly the raising of arms and the turning of faces as if to touch their cheeks together. After they settle, I let the quiet set in on the room. “I’m John,” I say finally breaking the silence. “I’ve known Adam for a long time, it’s a shame we haven’t met until now.” She gives a curt nod and a polite smile saying, “Yes my Adam’s mentioned you, and I must apologize for our late introduction. I don’t really get around these parts much anymore. You know, it’s ninety in Bali right now. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m here for a gala and then I’m back in a flash.”

I decide to push the envelope now, not quite yet taking liberties with her body, however. Just her mind. “I bet it is gorgeous there. I hear you’re quite the traveler. Which reminds me,” I keep my tone level and the pace perfectly conversational, “are you being fucked well in your travels? I mean I always hear of toned pool boys and late-night masseurs with these sorts of things.”

She takes a sip of coffee and her face contorts, not from the question but from the fact that she hasn’t had grocery-store brand coffee in over a decade. She continued in her blithe way, unfazed by the line of questioning. “Well, not to tell tales out of school, but I do have my lovers here and there. A woman has to have here fun you know”, she says this winking at Cass, like Cass had any idea what it was to have multiple lovers until she was **** on my cock yesterday morning. “Just fellas? Never found yourself in bed with a woman?”, I probe further. “Yuck, not for me I’m afraid.” I raise an eyebrow playfully. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” She takes less than a moment to respond, “Because I can let a man eat me out and fuck him in return. A woman will want what’s hers and that’s out of the question. I don’t do oral. Not cocks, not balls, not pussies.” Cass chimes in cheerily, “Or assholes I suppose?”. “My dear, perish the thought”, Donna says with palpable disgust.

“Nonsense!”, I declare, “you just haven’t found the right cock, balls, or pussy to service yet.” Cass pipes in, “Or asshole!”. “Quite right”, I say smiling. You’re doing great Cass, I think, keep it up and I’ll make sure this cold bitch is eating your ass before the day's out. Cass smiles a big smile like she knows that I just thought. I’m about to ditch the whole slow-burn plan and tell Donna to eat out Cass right then and there, when Adam comes in—silver tray in hand and sets the dishes out on the coffee table. We eat, turning back to normal small talk. I try the mini quiche I’d demanded of Adam and say, “You know, I can’t really taste a difference in these. I don’t know what you go so far out of your way to buy those expensive eggs for this.” Adam gives a nervous chuckle, saying he doesn’t know either.

“So, Adam,” I start in finally, “when are you going to tell your mother that you proposed to dear Cass?”