My Autumn and My Winter

Steve shot a glance at the three full size cameras dwarfing their operators.

Fat chance of that, he thought.

Chapter 20

Rich put the truck in park and got out to stretch his legs. A long trail of dust hung in the hot air, masking the red sun as it sank towards the horizon. Susan took a bit longer to get out, grumbling at her numerous nagging pains and kinks.

Rich squinted behind his shades as a robust man in a wide brimmed hat came sauntering out of the shade of a dilapidated barn. He walked with the bow-legged stride of someone used to riding a tractor, or a horse. Knobby joints in his sinewy hands shifted as he adjusted the leather belt hung below his protruding belly.

"Are you the Americans?"

Rich stared into the man's lined face, noting the streaks of gray in his mustache.

"Yes we are, sir," he said in perfect Spanish. "Do you have a toilet? I'm about to be wearing yellow pants."

A gap toothed grin spread at his jibe, and the man's gnarled hand gestured towards an outhouse.

"Gracias." Rich heard Susan talking as he marched across the scorched dirt. As he stood in a wide legged stance, trying hard not to breathe through his nose, he spotted a furry tarantula sitting near a corner of the ceiling. "Hey there, little guy."

It was a good thing he wasn't petrified of spiders like Phil. What a nerd. Crawley had told him that most of the spiders in America and Mexico weren't dangerous to humans, and of those only the Black Widow was capable of causing death.

"Now, a Brazilian Walking Spider comes up to you, watch out!"

He could picture her pretty face, pouty lips drawn in a wide smile, slanted eyes merry and twinkling with delight. She certainly was enthusiastic about her work. Rich wished he could say the same about himself. There was nothing wrong about Accounting, he didn't hate it. However, neither was he particularly passionate about his vocation.

He exited the wooden stall and gratefully breathed in through his nostrils once more. Susan and the knobby handed man were heading for the barn. Rich fell in behind them, still fumbling with his belt.

Dank, musky odors wafted from the interior as the man threw the doors open wide. Shafts of sunlight splintered the scene into dimly lit patches. Warbled clucking rose through the dusty air, increasing in volume as they moved in deeper.

The darkness resolved into tangible shapes as their eyes adjusted. A rusted, ancient plow with gruesome spikes sat on four flat tires. Adjacent were two double rows of box like cages, each one containing a yard bird. Their guide ignored these cages and walked into a horse stall bereft of its equine occupant. All at once a guttural tumult arose from within.

Rich came around the stall and blanched at the sight of the biggest, ugliest, blackest chicken he had ever seen. Well, not a chicken; A rooster, from the dark red comb sitting atop its head. The thing's body was the size of a beach ball, dwarfing the other fowl. One red-tinted eye gleamed at him from inside the feeble seeming chicken wire, the other a ruined milky blur.

The man squatted down next to the bird and spoke to it in low tones. Susan sidled up next to Rich and stooped to move her head in close.

"What's he saying?"

"He's telling the bird that we're going to take care of it for awhile. He's apologizing for it having to ride in the back of a truck. Oh, and this is his last fight before he gets put out to stud."

"They take their shit seriously, don't they?"

"Yeah. We'd better follow suit."

The man straightened up and adjusted his pants. Why didn't he just drive a new hole on his belt, if he was too cheap to buy a new one?

"El Diablo will graciously allow you to transport him. Try to be polite if you want to keep all your fingers and eyes."

"Fingers AND eyes?" Susan's tone was loaded with incredulity.

"No problem." Rich crouched down and put his hand on the top of the cage. He smiled at the black rooster. "Hey there, buddy. We're going to take good care of you, okay?"

Rich shouted, leaping to his feet and staring at his finger. Diablo had pecked him but good!

"Ow, what the fuck? God damn bird, I'll make our first stop at KFC you little-"

The man's laughter stopped Rich's tirade.

"You were speaking to him as a child. Diablo does not like that. You must treat him like the king that he is."

"Nice." Rich smiled, but he knew his face was flushed and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Let's be on our way, your highness. Susan, get the cage yo."

"What? Me? After YOU pissed him off?"

"C'mon, it's not like he's gonna be heavy. It's a chicken!"

"I'm still getting over some broken fingers. Can't rightly say I could carry him without dropping him."

"Bullshit. Fine, we'll both carry him. You get that end and I'll get-"

"Uh-uh! YOU take the side closest to his beak!"

"I'm already on this side, though."

Susan stared down at him, nostrils flaring. Cursing under her breath, she bent low and grabbed the bottom of the box, careful to keep her hands on the solid wooden supports. Gingerly, they loaded the bellicose bird onto the pickup. Their guide offered them a bag of dried corn and a dingy ceramic water urn to hang on the cage. Then they were off, headed for a bump on the road twenty miles south east of Juarez.

"This has to be the most nonsensical thing I've ever done."

Susan's gaze snapped to him, an mocking smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Really? I'll have to tell you about the time King Kong Brody got his dick stuck in a cow in Wisconson."

"Dick stuck in a cow?" Rich laughed, his eyes tearing up. "You simply must elaborate, Ms. Deathslayer."

"There's not much to elaborate on. Kong was getting old by then, and was having trouble trolling the rats.."

"Trolling the rats?"

"Sorry, wrestling lingo. A rat is a groupie, short for Ring Rat. Anyway, old Brody was so hard up he swore that if we saw any cows out in the fields along the highway he was gonna fuck one. Well, dad and them crept out there, full of whiskey and thc, and watched that fat mother fucker drop his pants and shove his needle dick right into the coochie of a cow."

"Damn, bet bessie was loving that!"

"Probably, because she clamped down on him so tight they were afraid his cock was gonna get pinched off. They felt bad for him, but it's hard to concentrate on a solution when you're laughing that hard."

Rich joined in the mirth.

"How'd he get it back out?"

"Well, they tried poking the cow in the udder with a sharp stick, but it just kind of dragged Dick around after it. They...then they...how in the hell did they get him out?"

"I'm surprised he stayed hard. If I was in that situation, I'd be like-"

Rich held his index finger pointed out, then let it sag.

"droop!"

Susan laughed.

"Yeah, you'd think but it was so tight on him it was like a cock ring. Blood couldn't flow back out. Anyway, somehow they figured a way to get him out. I think the cow might have just let him go after awhile."

Rich turned on the radio, ignoring further attempts at banter by Susan. For some reason, he was just really tired. Tired of Mexico, tired of driving the old truck, and tired of pretending he didn't feel anything for the woman in the next seat.

** *

Steve nibbled on the end of a baby carrot, wary of the omnipresent cameras pointed all over the room. The orientation had become a semi-party, and while Iorich had stated clearly that they were to ignore the cameras and act naturally, he felt as if every belch and butt scratch would be broadcast to the whole world. He listened with half an ear to Mason as he described his life back home.

"...and that was when I realized that instead of running spas for other people, I could be running one for myself." The orange skinned man leaned in close to Steve, casting a furtive glance at his wife as she chatted with other contestants. "Let me tell you, once you own your own business, you're going to be rolling in pussy. Rolling."

"That's great, man." Steve tried to smile but the smug little man and his phony comraderie were wearing thin. He looked past the smaller man, seeing Autumn engaged in conversation with Iorich. Unbelievably, she actually seemed to be getting the ice queen to melt. Iorich's thin mouth was turned up in a smile more often than a sneer, and she was sitting with her legs crossed towards Autumn.

"Excuse me, can I get by you guys?"

Steve and Mason turned their eyes on Lashawnda. The petite black woman squeezed between them, reaching for a bottle of sparkling juice. Her shapely hip brushed against Steve's crotch, and though he knew it to be calculated and deliberate it was nonetheless effective. Her gaze lingered on Steve as she sauntered away to join her husband.

"Bro," said Mason, dropping an overly familiar hand on Steve's massive shoulder "don't look now, but she wants the streudel!"

"Streudel?"

"You might want to play that up, use it against them. This IS a competition, after all."

"I'm not that worried about it."

"Not that worried about it? Don't you want to win?"

Steve arched an eyebrow at him.

"What's the big deal with winning? These kind of shows are more about the performance than the contest, despite what Iorich keeps saying."

"Bro." Mason rubbed his eyes as if exasperated. "Look, did you even READ the contract? The prize is one million smackeroos!"

"One million..." Steve licked his lips. "A million dollars? US or Canada?"

"Damn well better be US. Excuse me."

Mason flitted away, worming his way into a conversation between his wife and the Tsukakes. Steve exhaled deeply, relieved that the annoying man had left him be at last. He was never big on small talk, unless he was speaking to young children, and he knew their talk was never small even if it seemed trivial to adult ears. Feeling out of sorts, he found his feet moving him in Autumn's direction.

"...no, no, honey, I have to do my own makeup and hair." Autumn reached out and stroked the fine cornsilk locks of Iorich. "I LOVE your hair, by the way. It's so shiny and silky."

"It probably smells, I haven't washed it since I got to Canada," said Iorich, taking a sip from her wineglass. "Still, I can't believe that the WWL doesn't have stylists on staff."

"I know, right? It took me awhile to get my look down so it was appealing on camera. That's as much why I wear those skimpy outfits; I don't want people to look at my crappy make-up job."

"Hordes of horny teenage boys are grateful for that," Steve said, sitting down next to Autumn.

"Hey sugar." Autumn kissed him wetly, noisily, on the lips. She gestured towards Iorich. "Miz I here is just full of questions about the business."

"I've received offers to appear as an on-air non-talent." Her voice held just a hint of wounded pride, though her face was impassive.

"It's not what it sounds like. Non-talent doesn't mean you're not talented, it means you don't do in ring work. They probably want you to be an interviewer or announcer." Steve arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know you had an interest in appearing on camera."

"I didn't at first, but I keep getting offers."

"Must be great to be a skinny blonde," Autumn said, punctuating her speech with a wet raspberry.

"Be nice, dear." Steve patted the top of her thigh. "Besides, you're the most beautiful woman here."

"Oh, really?" Autumn grinned, eyes half shut as she put a hand on top of his. "Cause some of these dames are pretty cute..."

"Totally." He kissed her on the forehead. "Besides, how many of them are going to dress up like a maid?"

"More than you might think," said Iorich, eying their interplay with envy tinged yearning.

"Well, they still wouldn't be Autumn. She's..." Steve stared into her big brown eyes, feeling himself falling into them all over again. "...I can't live without her."

"Aww." Autumn patted his belly. "How much longer is this orientation going to last?"

"I was just about to dismiss everyone." Iorich rose to her feet, straightening her skirt during her ascent. Her shrill voice carried over the murmur of conversation, telling them they were free to retire for the evening. The camera crew seemed most grateful of all. They moved towards the picked over buffet table, and Steve realized that they had not eaten a bite in the three hours he had been in their company.

Steve and Autumn moved out of the room and down the hall towards their own chambers. He turned his head when he heard Iorich's heels clacking on the tiles behind them.

"What's she-"

"Shh." Autumn put a finger to his lips. "Ixnay on the eakspay. Mum's the word."

"But-"

"Shh." Autumn's lips brushed his ear, her hot breath steaming up his skin. "She's spending the night with us."

"She's spending-"

"Dammnit, Steve," hissed Autumn with narrowed eyes. "Don't fuck this up! She has to keep up the appearance of neutrality, so she's just going to-"

Autumn raised her voice as the Edwards passed by them.

"-go over our contract with us one more time. You know, that thing we couldn't figure out?"

"Right." Steve was rewarded with a squeeze of his hand. Autumn kissed him on the cheek.

He lowered his voice and spoke right into Autumn's multi pierced ear.

"How did you do it? I thought she hated us."

"Honey," Autumn said at normal volume "I can seduce any woman. Any woman."

When they reached their room, Steve whistled in appreciation. A king sized bed with a checkered down comforter sat against the opposite wall. A full sized dresser and matching nightstand made of sandalwood sat ready to serve their needs. The bedroom also featured a stainless steel microwave, full sized coffee maker, and flatscreen television, though there was masking tape in an X over the screen. A deer head sat on the wall over the bed, its nose inches from the blades of a buzzing ceiling fan.

"Nice place." He plopped down on the bed and sighed. "Ahhh."

"Dork." Iorich came into the room after them, but she was chatting animatedly on her cell phone. Steve and Autumn looked at each other in confusion as the blonde walked to the window and leaned against the glass.

"Uh, is she still going to...uhm..."

"I don't know." Autumn sat on the bed next to him. "I guess so."

Iorich turned around, still concentrating on her phone call. It was impossible for Steve to discern the nature of her conversation, as it was in French. However, he could tell by her steely tone and lowered brows that it was a business call.

She did not look at either of them, but sat down on the bed between them. Off slipped her heels, and they clattered on the floor. With one hand she unbuttoned her white silk blouse, still speaking on the phone. At last she briefly favored them with her attention.

"You can get started. This will only take a minute."

Cold and businesslike. As if she were telling them you can get started on dinner without me.

"Nah, we'll wait." Autumn grinned, playing with strands of Iorich's silken hair. "Steve, you have to feel her hair! It's like golden spider silk!"

Steve swallowed, then reached out to nervously brush her shining locks. Autumn was right, they were unbelievably soft. Iorich twitched at his touch, which made him think he'd gone too far too fast. However, she leaned away from him and offered her arm in his direction, still chatting on her phone. It took Steve a moment to realize she wanted his help disrobing.

Awkwardly, he pulled on her blouse as she withdrew her willowy arm. The sight of her modest but firm bust concealed by a sheer white bra had his blood pounding through his veins. A glance at Autumn's shining eyes and parted lips showed him that she was getting excited too.

If only Iorich weren't acting so distant. It was as if she were stripping down for a spa massage, rather than for a night of carnal passion.

Autumn rose from her spot and slowly sashayed around the bed to kneel in front of Iorich. Along the way she lost her trousers, kneeling on the carpet with bare legs. Iorich rose up a bit to allow Autumn to drag her gray skirt to the floor. Steve's eyes went wide. Autumn had been right, the co-executive producer was going commando.

Nice and trim, too. Steve stared at her pale labia, smaller and slimmer and somehow less feminine than Autumn's. Without conscious thought, he reached a hand out and caressed the top of her slender thighs as Autumn looked on with an interested smile.

"Au revoir." Iorich turned her phone off, giving it one hard stare before she laid it down on the nearby nightstand. "Your hands are warm."

Steve took a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He glanced up into her eyes, and found them to be warm and inviting.

"Stop stalling, Steve." Autumn put her hand on top of his own and guided it between Iorich's legs. The blonde's flesh quivered beneath his fingers, which were quickly coated in slick moisture. Iorich's eyes fluttered, and a tiny gasp escaped her painted lips.

"You're seeing the benefits of those big, fat fingers now, aren't you sweetie?" Autumn brushed her hand through Iorich's hair as Steve slid his middle and index fingers inside. Iorich moaned, her mouth seeking out Autumn's hand and kissing it. Slowly, Autumn leaned the other woman back and disengaged her bra hooks. Steve watched them as they kissed vigorously, mindful of keeping his fingers busy while he was distracted. Autumn's gaze met his own even as her mouth and tongue were occupied, and he could almost feel her feeding off his own lust.

Steve leaned with one arm on Iorich's belly, using his hand to spread her wide. He shoved his fingers, all four of them, past the glistening skin and felt the silky smoothness inside. Iorich gasped into Autumn's mouth, a strangely muffled cry of ecstasy.

Autumn had the blonde's bra off by now, and was teasing the small but stiffly erect nipples that had been exposed. Iorich didn't have much of a bust, but her slender build was different enough from Autumn's voluptuous one to hold his interest. His wife stopped kissing the other woman for a moment.

"Steve," she said with a note of admonishment "why are you not face deep in her snatch?"

Iorich giggled musically, peering down at Steve as he positioned his shoulders under her knees. Autumn reached down to caress his hair as he bent to his task. He pursed his lips and gently pressed them against Iorich's twat. She shuddered, nibbling on Autumn's fingers between gasps. Steve gently pried her hood upward, revealing a slim clit that was rapidly becoming engorged. A light breath across its surface made Iorich's gasps go up an octave.

Steve sucked her entire hood inside his mouth and released it, then repeated the action. He kept his eyes just above her mound, as he didn't want to miss the show Autumn was putting on. She was cradling the blonde's head, guiding her own pierced nipple into Iorich's mouth. His wife watched him almost as closely as he watched her, and Steve felt a stab of guilt.

We're just using this woman. It's not like we care about her.

Nevertheless, he tried to lose himself in the moment. He tried to focus on the fact that Iorich was an adult woman who could make her own decisions, and likely had no illusions on what meaning, if any, the night's amorous adventures would have in the morning.

Iorich's mouth came off of Autumn's skin and a long, shuddering moan escaped into the room. Steve wiped his face off on the back of his forearm, staring into the dreamy eyes of their executive producer. Autumn stroked her silken hair, cocking her pierced eyebrow at Steve.

"When's my turn, Sugar?"

"Right now," said Iorich, rolling over onto her stomach. She pushed Autumn onto her back forcefully, and both women laughed. Iorich's slender but shapely rump was in the air before him, her face hidden between Autumn's legs.