My Autumn and My Winter

"C'mon, Rich. Aren't you a real man?"

"Baby, I'm like the alpha male of alpha males."

"No, sorry," Susan said with a bleary eyed smile. "You're so not the alpha male of your group."

"Oh, how do you figure that?" Rich glared at her, thinking it was just the booze altering his perceptions but it was quite hard to get mad at her when she looked so lovely. "I suppose you think Steve is the alpha?"

"No, not really." Susan poured them both another shot. "Steve's the biggest, Phil's the smartest, and you're the best looking, but Rex is the real alpha of your group."

"Rex?" Rich sputtered, only half because of the tequila. "Are you kidding me, that mouth breathing mullet wearing...wait, I'm the best looking?"

"Yes, Rex is the real alpha male," Susan said, her cheeks reddening as she tried to ignore his last words. "He's the most relaxed and least arrogant, not to mention the center of your social nexus. If something's happening, it's either going to happen at Rex's or because of Rex."

"That's bull..." Rich thought about it—which wasn't easy to do with a tequila drenched brain. "All right, all right. The Rich acknowledges your logic. I'm okay with Rex being the alpha."

"That's an enlightened attitiude," Susan said with a nod.

"Because I'M the best looking," he said, grinning ear to ear.

"God, I'm going to regret this whole trip, I just know it," Susan said, hiding her face in her hands. She looked up a moment later and regarded him with eyes that seemed a bit glassy. "You know, Steve thinks quite a bit of you. Says you're a good man underneath all the perverted crap."

"Really?" Rich arched his brows, sincerely gladdened to hear about it. He wasn't the kind of man who had to have the admiration of those around him, but it was nice to have.

"Really." Susan poured them both another shot. "He went on to say that he hooked up with his first girlfriend because you helped him out."

"Oh, yeah!" Rich's fingers drummed on the counter while he shut his eyes tightly in concentration. "What was that chick's name? Farrah or something-"

"Farrah McMichaels," Susan said. Rich pointed rapidly at her.

"That's the one! Man, if Steve hadn't called dibs, I'd have been all over that shit."

"She was pretty cute. Pretty damn cute at that. Wonder what ever happened to her?"

"She joined the Marines."

"Yeah right."

"No, really. Heard she's a supply seargeant or something these days."

"Wonder why Steve broke up with her?"

"The problem with a chick THAT hot is that dudes swarm all over them. Farrah must have banged half the guys in the school. You didn't know?"

Susan's face soured, as if she had sniffed a foul aroma in the air. Rich started to change the subject, realizing that it was a sore spot for her, but then Steve's sister surprised him by speaking.

"I never paid that much attention to who Steve was pining for. In a lot of ways it was like having a big sister, with how pissy and melodramatic he is."

"Hey, for what it's worth," Rich said, finally drinking his shot. "Whew! For what it's worth, Steve cares about you a lot."

"Yeah, I know. Steve cares about all of us. He even put himself through Hell in Japan just for our dad's sake, so he could work over there again."

"I've seen the video on the web. You'd never get ME to lay on a pile of thumbtacks while some freak jumped off a ten foot ladder and landed on my chest."

"Me neither. Maybe dressing up in skimpy outfits ain't so bad by comparison." Susan perked up at the return of their bartender.

"Here," he said, handing Rich a business card. "El Diablo wants to meet with you after all."

"Gracias," Rich said, accepting the card. He looked over the address printed on it, squinting when he realized he had no idea of where to find it. The bartender laughed at his inquisitive expression.

"I'll draw you a map, gringo." The barkeep used a rough napkin and a grease pen to sketch out their path. It didn't look too terribly complicated, unlike trying to find your way in Manhattan. Rich had lived there his whole life and still sometimes got lost.

"Well, thanks friend," Rich said, rising to his feet. Susan copied him a moment later.

"Hold on, friend," said the bartender. "You just knocked back three shots of the top shelf stuff."

"Top shelf?" Rich said.

"Point is, I wouldn't be a responsible bartender if I let you drive in your condition."

Rich sat back down, glancing up and down the bar.

"Got some peanuts or something?"

"I got some crackers," the man dug around under the shelves behind him, coming back with a cardboard box. After he blew the dust off of it, Rich could make out the brand.

"Muy Delicioso," he said "they went out of business four years ago..."

"Look, gringo, this isn't one of your fancy American sports bars. This is a place for hard working people to come and get respite from the day's labors."

"Fine." Rich tore into the box and opened one of the crinkly wrappers within. They were dry, brittle things that melted into a hideous sludge on his tongue. He turned to stare at Susan with a baleful eye. "This place is barbaric."

Later, Susan laid a twenty on the counter for the tequila, and the two of them took their leave. A hairy tarantula scurried out of their way as they trod the dirt lot to the Lexus. The skittering spider reminded him of Crawley. She would probably have been able to name its phylum and kingdom, dietary habits, mating rituals...

A flash of Crawley crawling into bed with Phil made him angry for some reason, though he tried to hide it.

"What's wrong, Rich? That wasn't a counterfeit bill, was it?"

"It was legit," Rich said through clenched teeth.

"Wanna let me in on why you're so pissed off right now?"

"Mostly I'm pissed at myself."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot."

Susan chuckled.

"You said it, I didn't it, but what specifically makes you an idiot this time?"

"I'm an idiot because I keep letting good things pass me by."

"Uh, Rich...where's your car?"

Rich turned away from Susan to stare at an empty patch of dirt where his car had once been.

** *

A hushed air of restrained elegance hovered over the upper tier restaurant. Couples dined in low light, engaged in low conversation, and gazed at Steve and Autumn with a low opinion.

Steve wasn't sure if it was their wardrobe or not. The host had allowed Autumn to enter in her black leather skirt and frilly blouse, but had made Steve put on a sports coat over his polo shirt. It probably had a lot more to do with the way that Autumn clung to his arm like a swimmer in a storm tossed sea, or the way she kept kissing him on the face every other second.

"Did I mention you're the man?" She snuggled up close on the bench as they waited for a table to clear.

"Several times today, in fact." Steve looked into her beaming smile, her bright and shining eyes. Autumn was acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush, constantly hanging on him.

"Well, you're going to hear it eight times; You're the man."

"Eight?"

"You said several times, so-"

"Several doesn't mean seven."

"It doesn't?"

"No, the dictionary definition is 'three or more but not many.'"

"You're a nerd." Autumn stroked her hand on his thigh and kissed him again. "But you're MY nerd. My nerd husband."

He grinned, putting a hand atop hers and making it disappear. After their spirited bouts of passion last night, both when Autumn was restrained and not, had somehow brought them closer together. Steve still had his reservations about Autumn's kinky side, but they were growing softer and fainter even as the sex got hotter and steamier. The deep connection he had felt with Autumn since the very first time they laid eyes on each other appeared to be getting even stronger. That worried him a little.

"Only two more days of honeymoon left." He stroked her cheek, Autumn giving his thumb a quick kiss and bite. "Sorry we had to cut it short."

"Oh, don't be. You're doing it to land a job that'll make your wife very, very happy."

"It'd make you happy that I was running the school? I thought you didn't like Jiro."

"I never said I didn't like him, exactly, just that he didn't like me."

"It's going to be a big change, beautiful. No more jet setting around the country, no more bright lights and cameras. It'll be a sedentary...normal is the word that fits the best, I guess. It'll be a normal life."

"Sugar," Autumn said, tracing a line up and down his hairy forearm with her fingertip "ain't nothing about us ever going to be normal. And that's a good thing."

"Still, right now you're arguably the more marketable of the two of us-"

"Arguably?"

"-and this is going to be a big step down for you."

"Whatever. Gives me more time to paint." She gazed at him for a long moment, slightly upturned nose twitching. "You're handsome, you know that?"

"If you say so." Steve shook his head, marveling in her presence.

"I do say so." She kissed him on his cheek. "Even when you're stubbly. Why didn't you shave?"

"Hey, you were the one who came into the bathroom and bent over while wearing dental floss."

"You had your back to me!"

"I could see you in the mirror, and you knew it! You were shaking it like a stripper."

"For all of two seconds, until you started spanking it."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Steve turned his goofy grin off and looked into the somber face of the m'aitre de.

"Your table is ready. Please come with me?"

"Hey, how long does it take for our food to get done?" The host's head snapped around to Autumn.

"It depends, madame, on what one orders. I assure you that our kitchen staff is highly trained and will dedicate themselves to making your culinary repast as delightful as possible."

"Well, we might have to get it to go, cause I'm getting horny."

Steve slapped a palm over his eyes as the host's cheeks grew red, mouth agape.

"Er...I'll go get you some water."

Autumn laughed at Steve's rolling eyes.

"What? That stuffed shirt needed some shaking up. I bet he sweats starch."

"I can't take you anywhere."

"You can 'take' me anywhere you want," she purred. They sat on opposite sides of their table. Steve arranged his long legs under the draping green tablecloth and picked up a menu.

"I don't recognize any of this," his eyes narrowed to blue slits "even the stuff that's in English."

"The other side has pictures."

"Oh." Steve flipped over the menu and his eyes widened. "Coq du vin looks pretty good, whatever that is."

"I know I could sure use some Coq in me..."

Steve laughed, staring across the table at her half lidded smile.

"Was it that much fun, getting tied up?"

"Yes, but it's more than that, Steve." She sat forward and leaned her chin against her folded hands. "A whole lot of it is the fact that you indulged me. Not only did you indulge me, you were downright diligent in getting all the details right. That means a lot, sugar. A lot. It means you listen. And, well, I guess it's the idea that you'd do that for me as much as the fact that you did it."

Steve swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks flush.

It's not something you do every day.

"You know what happens when you get bashful around me in public, sugar."

Steve held his hands up quickly in surrender.

"It's not bashfulness this time, I swear. I just...well..."

"Go on."

"I had fun last night too. I'm worried about what that says about me, but it was really, really...intense."

"That's the idea." Autumn unwrapped a package of Melba toast and crunched into it. Around a mouthful she continued to speak. "It's like food. Some of it is spicy, some of it is sweet, but all of it tastes pretty damn good. If you're wanting things to get 'spicy' again tonight, I'm totally on board with that."

Steve dragged some of the toast toward himself.

"We won't be able to be so...crazy...once you're with child."

"With child?"

"Pregnant."

"I know what you meant, sir Lance a Lot. 'With Child.' Seriously? Who still says that?"

"It's just an expression, Autumn, come on-"

"No, I'm not letting this one go."

Her impish face was split in a wide grin, olive skin lovely in the low light. Her earrings danced at the end of their chains, splashing scintillating color onto her neck.

"It's not that archaic, beautiful."

"Archaic? There's another one! Have you been watching Uptown Dickery or something?"

"Downton Abbey," Steve said when he was finished laughing.

"Are you two ready to order, sir?"

Steve looked up at the waiter and opened his mouth. Autumn beat him to the punch.

"Oh, waiter, be a bully chap and giveth me one plate of thine humble bovines prepared thusly."

He slapped a hand across his eyes as the waiter chuckled, noting which picture she pointed to.

"And you, sir?"

"Uh," he pointed at his own menu "this thing that looks like pasta with shrimp."

"Very good, sir."

Steve tried to bite back his smile as he stared into Autumn's snickering face, but failed.

Much later, they lay on the bed, naked bodies snuggled close. Autumn had her arm laid on Steve's left arm, while they took turns holding his tablet. As the end credits rolled on the program they had finished, she blew out a derisive snort.

"That was the best show on television?"

"It's really popular."

"I can see why. It was tits and ass the whole fucking time."

"Not the whole time..."

"Close e-fucking-nough! It was tits, swordfight, ass, swordfight, poontang, swordfight, dick..."

His chest leaped with vigorous laughter, and he nearly dropped the tablet.

"They should have called it Game of Cocks," Autumn said. Steve did drop the tablet. It slid off his hairy chest and wedged itself between their bodies.

"Here, turn this stupid thing off," she handed him the device. He complied with her request, and then grinned at her. His hand slid up her thigh, past a pattern of black roses that began just above her knee and ended at her waist. She slapped his hand and rolled out of bed.

"Steve," she said "I told you we have to get up early tomorrow so I can go to that Cycling class."

He rolled his eyes and sat up on the bed.

"What is so damn important about that Cycling class? You never even mentioned it until this afternoon."

"I'm going to the class, Steve." Autumn put her hands on her ample hips. "Now stop pouting and go get your wife some of those hotel soaps from the front desk."

"What?" Steve blinked, gazed down at his muscular, naked form. "Now?"

"Uh, yeah. Hurry up, I want to take a bath."

Steve sighed and threw his hands up in the air.

"All right."

He picked up his discarded boxers from the floor and slid them on. The pants he had worn to the restaurant lay on the floor, his belt still entwined about the waist. Though it was a tad dressy for eleven o'clock at night, he slipped them on, as well as the polo shirt.

"You look so dapper," Autumn said, pushing him toward the door.

"Shouldn't you be running bath water?"

"Shut up and get my soap."

Steve found himself outside the door as it snicked shut. He rode the elevator to the lobby, grumbling about her timing. It was getting late, and here he was running up and down the damn hotel getting her soap.

Worse, there was no one at the front desk when he arrived. He had to wait for ten minutes until he spotted the clerk outside the swimming pool room, puffing away on a cigarette. Steve roused the man and soon was upward bound with a handful of scented bath supplies.

When he pushed open the door to their suite, he squinted his eyes at the low illumination.

"Did you go to bed already?" Steve stepped inside the suite and shut the door. He set the soaps down on the adjacent end table and peered about.

"Oh! Master has returned!"

Steve turned his head toward footsteps coming from the bathroom. A smile so wide it hurt his cheeks spread over his face, a warm chuckle escaped his throat, when he saw Autumn dressed as a French Maid. The skirt was billowed out but short, revealing Autumn's shapely hose clad legs from mid thigh down. There was a good deal of cleavage on display as well, and Autumn even wore the puffy white cap.

"Wow," was all he could say.

Autumn broke character long enough to flash a cherubic grin. Then she was back to acting prim and proper, her speech affecting a very convincing English accent.

"Come, m'lord, come rest your weary feet." She led him to one of the stuffed chairs situated near the fireplace and bade him sit. She knelt before him, allowing a great view of her cavernous cleavage, and untied his shoes. Once his feet were free of their leather prisons, she slid his socks off as well. She rubbed his feet vigorously, fingers kneading his flesh. "Is that better, m'lord?"

He toyed with the idea of affecting an accent as well, but decided against it.

"Yes, you do good work. Remind me to give you a raise."

"Oh, a lowly one such as me doesn't deserve such consideration, m'lord."

There was just a hint of admonishment in her voice, and he remembered their discussion of his list. She was his subordinate, and the fantasy they were created meant he should treat her as such.

"Very well."

"Would m'lord like a drink?"

Steve licked his lips. It was getting late, but what the hell? It was still his honeymoon.

"Why, that would be nice, yes."

"Right away, m'lord." Autumn sauntered over to a half empty bottle of whiskey and poured a glass. Her bottom wiggled far more than was necessary, and he was sure that she felt his eyes watching her every sinuous move. She walked back to him—and promptly dumped the drink on his shirt. Her hand went before her mouth, brown eyes gone wide.

"What the hell?"

"Oh, m'lord! I'm so sorry!"

Steve paused in his inspection of the growing wet patch on his shirt to peer up at Autumn. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain that she had dumped the drink on purpose.

"Look what you've done to my shirt, girl!" He stood up and fixed her with a stern stare. Autumn folded her hands before her waist and gazed at the floor.

"I'm sorry, m'lord. Please forgive your clumsy maid."

"Forgive you?" Steve licked his lips, not sure where she was going within the parameters of their role play.

"You're not going to..." Autumn shivered as if from fright. Her red lips parted slightly. "...to punish me, are you m'lord?"

Steve kept most of the smile off his face.

"Such negligence of duty requires no less."

"Please, m'lord," she said, daring to look up at him.

"Go to the bed, girl."

"But M'lord-"

"Now."

Autumn stiffly walked to the bed, glancing back at him as if unsure.

"Turn around and put your hands on the bed."

She complied, the position causing her skirt to ride up and reveal the fact that her pantyhose had convenient slits in them, allowing access to her crotch. A pair of diaphanous silk panties left little to the imagination. Steve walked behind her and lifted her skirt up higher with one hand while raising his other into the air near his shoulder.

The first smack struck Autumn on her right buttock, making it dance in a way he found almost hypnotic. Her sudden gasp, the way her body lurched, let him know that the sensation had been anything but unpleasant to her.

"This is what happens-" Smack! "-when you spill-" Smack! "-master's drink!"

He kept up the spanking, alternating quick slaps with smooth caresses. Her panties seemed to be getting in his way so he hooked a finger in them and tried tugging them down. It seemed that they were anchored by the crotchless hose, meaning he was going to have to rip them or drag her hose off.

"What are you doing?" There was faux indignation in her voice, the type that an innocent serving girl might display if her lord suddenly crossed the line. Apparently, she intended to stay in character.