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I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said, and then started to smile. “But there was a notation in the diary for that weekend. Just a brief little reminder….”
“Yes…? What did it say?”
I drew out the moment. Leticia was on the edge of the sofa. Somehow, during the course of our conversation she had become invested in the story, following its twists and turns.
“It was brief. Just a couple of scribbled lines. ‘Meeting David. Excelsior Hotel. 3:00 pm.’”
“That was all?”
I nodded. “But that was enough.”
“Who was David?”
“He was her husband.”
“No!”
I nodded. “Yes,” I said. “She had a husband. He was some kind of an engineer who worked away in the middle-east; a fifty year old guy with loads of money who worked overseas for three months at a time.”
“My god!” Leticia breathed. There was genuine shock and incredulity in her voice. “But you told me she was divorced,” she protested.
“She told my father she was divorced,” I explained. “She lied.”
“How did you find out this David guy was her husband? He could have been a friend.”
“I phoned the Excelsior Hotel. I asked to be put through to the front desk, and then I asked if Mrs. Claire Moreland had arrived yet. The receptionist said she wasn’t expected for a couple of hours, but her husband had arrived early. Would I like to be transferred to their room?”
Leticia gasped. She lifted her hand and pressed it to her mouth. “Oh, Jonah. Tell me you didn’t…”
“I didn’t,” I said. “I hung up, and spent the rest of the weekend making plans. When Claire flew back in on Sunday evening, I was ready for her.”
Leticia squirmed on the sofa. Her eyes were bright and shiny. She was looking up at me in anticipation.
“Do ut des,” I said softly.
“What?”
“It’s your turn to answer a question.”
“No. Jonah! Not now!” Leticia protested. “I want to hear what happened between you and Claire. I want to know how this affected you and changed your life.”
“And I want to know about the most erotic sexual experience you have ever had.”
Leticia sat back in the sofa with her face suddenly in shadow so I sensed her mood, without seeing it written across her face. I stood my ground and after a long moment she realized sulking in the dark wasn’t going to change matters. She let out a long sigh and finally leaned forward, back into the lamplight.
She was suddenly embarrassed. “The only erotic experience I ever had was actually someone else’s,” she said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it never happened to me,” she said. She made a little pleading gesture of frustration and then sighed again. “It happened to my girlfriend. I spent a Friday night staying at her home. Her parents were away for the weekend. We got high…”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen,” Leticia said. “Dwayne was working a double shift at the processing plant. My girlfriend and I got drunk on cheap wine and I fell asleep. When I woke up I was in the living room. It was late. I went upstairs towards her bedroom, but as I passed her parent’s room, I noticed the door was slightly open. I paused, and heard my girlfriend’s voice coming from beyond the door. She was panting. She was moaning and whimpering, and her voice was husky.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I peeped,” Leticia said guiltily. “I went to the door and looked inside.” She hesitated for a moment. I stood, watching her patiently. She wasn’t looking at me. She was gazing blankly into the darkness.
“It was my girlfriend. She was on her hands and knees, naked in the middle of the bed, and there was a man I didn’t recognize behind her. He had his hands on her hips, digging his fingers into her skin, holding her in place as he thrust himself inside of her.”
Leticia shifted her position on the sofa so that she had her knees tucked up beneath her. “There was a couple of candles burning – enough light for me to see the look of passion on her face. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and she was groaning every time the man thrust against her. Her breasts swayed and swung beneath her in rhythm.”
“Were you aroused?” I asked gently.
Leticia nodded. “The man was a lot older than my girlfriend. He might have been thirty. He had a broad chest and big muscled arms. He reached out with one of his hands and suddenly grabbed my girlfriend’s hair. He pulled on it, like it was a rein. My girlfriend lifted her head and arched her back – and then opened her eyes.”
“She saw you, watching them?”
Leticia nodded. “They both did,” she said softly. “My girlfriend came over to the door, and she had a soft dreamy look on her face. She invited me to join them.”
“And did you?” I asked.
“No,” Leticia shook her head, with maybe a hint of regret in her expression. “Dwayne was my boyfriend. I wouldn’t cheat on him. I told my girlfriend the same thing. She seemed to understand, but she could tell I was turned on. She would have been blind not to see it in my face, I suppose.”
Leticia sighed and looked around the living room. She looked everywhere, except at me.
“She opened the door wider so I could see, and then she went back to the bed and laid on her back. The man got off the bed. I thought for a moment he was going to come and drag me into the room, but he didn’t. He just smiled at me, and then stood at the edge of the bed and slid his… his penis into my girlfriend’s open mouth.”
“They wanted you to watch them?”
Leticia shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so,” she said. “They started getting louder, saying all kinds of things to each other, like they were suddenly turned on by the idea of having an audience.”
“Saying stuff?” I frowned. “You mean talking dirty to each other.”
She nodded. “Uhuh.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“It turned me on even more,” Leticia confessed. “It was incredible. It was like nothing I had ever imagined before. Watching these two people having sex really turned me on, but once I heard them talk to each other the way they did – well I… I was…”
“You had an orgasm?”
Leticia nodded.
“Just from watching and listening to this couple having sex?”
She nodded again.
“What kind of things were they saying?”
“I can’t remember,” Leticia hedged. “But the words themselves didn’t turn me on,” she lifted her face and looked at me at last. “It was the attitude. It was the way the man spoke, the hoarse cry of his voice, and the expression on his face,” Leticia explained. “And it was in the way he made my girlfriend pant and plead for more. She was wanton – a totally different character to the girl I thought I knew. It was as if the way the man treated her, changed her completely from a quiet nerd into a thousand dollar whore.”
“Did he spank her?”
Leticia nodded. “A little. Not hard or anything. But he slapped and squeezed her breasts, and he pulled her hair. He called her his sexy slut… names like that. And every thing he did seemed to drive her wilder until she collapsed into a screaming spasm and had an orgasm.”
“And then what did you do?” I prompted her. “Did you go back to your room, or did you talk to them about what happened?”
“Oh, god no!” Leticia cringed at the thought. “I stayed standing in the doorway. The man crawled onto his knees on the bed and began stroking himself. He was looking right at me. He seemed to be staring right into my soul. I watched him, and I stood there, while I felt his eyes all over me – undressing me – and then he suddenly cried out and groaned as he shot his stuff all over my girlfriend’s face and breasts.”
