The Healing of Adam Cross Pt. 02

"Her husband is a friend of mine," Adam began, but Dave cut him off.

"So?" he asked. "Your friend should thank you for helping his bitch out, you know? Keeping her away from other guys who might try to fuck up the marriage."

Adam thought for a moment. "So you'd do it. You would fuck your friend's wife?"

"Fuck yeah!" Dave said. "Look, if Trent's bitch came to me and wanted to fuck, I'd do it. If my fucking wife went to Trent, I know he'd fuck her."

"Kelsey?" Trent nodded enthusiastically. "Bitch is hot. I'd fuck her in a heartbeat."

Adam was amazed. "You guys would fuck each others' wives?"

Trent grinned again. "Fuck yeah, if they came looking for it."

Dave continued, "A man needs to know how to keep his bitch in line."

"In line," Trent echoed.

"If he can't," Dave said, "he deserves to have some other guy planting his flag. Especially his best friend."

Adam turned to Ben, who had been at one time a decent guy, before his association with Trent and Dave changed him. Ben was grinning. He said, "Fuck the bitch . . . and then tell us everything."

Adam shook his head. "You guys definitely have a different perspective than most."

Dave grinned devilishly. "You know it."

* * *

"They. Did. What?"

The voice of Kelsey Cartwright was cold and hard, each word shot from her mouth like a bullet from a gun. She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties with long red hair and light bronze skin, a rare combination, and expressive light brown eyes—which were narrowed chillingly and flashing like the blade of a dagger in the midday sun.

Sitting to Kelsey's left at their four-person table was Heather James, twenty-five, with shoulder-length blonde hair and deep blue eyes, which were also narrowed and staring with great interest and intensity at the person to her left, Tiffany McCullough. It was early Thursday evening and the girls had gotten together to gossip and chat over dinner and drinks at a nice little spot in Santa Monica called the Apple Dish.

Tiffany had just begun telling the girls—with Josie Haynes, she of long blonde hair and stunning grass-green eyes, the fourth member of their group and its youngest at twenty-four—of the events of the bachelor party weekend, having taken much information from Holli, as well as information received from the two other strippers, Mandy and Kara, whom Holli had called.

"Our men fucked two strippers silly while they were in Vegas," Tiffany repeated in a cheerful tone, as if what she had said was the most light-hearted thing in the world.

The rest of the table was silent, until Josie, the only one of their party without a vested interest in the information, said, "You sound rather happy about it, Tiff."

Tiffany grinned. "I am," she said simply.

Kelsey and Heather looked at each other with incredulous expressions. "You're happy about the fact that Trent fucked some skanky stripper?" Heather asked, surprise evident in her voice.

"He fucked not just one stripper, but two," Tiffany replied as she bit from a piece of her bread. "And yes, I am."

"Let's come back to that bit of lunacy in a minute," Kelsey said with a dismissive wave. "How do you know they did it?"

Tiffany shrugged. "Holli told me," she replied.

"Holli?" Kelsey was silent a long moment before she realized what had happened. "The woman from your work. The stripper. She was there. Did they fuck her?"

"No, no, no," Tiffany replied. "They fucked two sluts new to the business. But Holli was there, she worked the party, and she knows exactly what happened. She called the other two girls to find out some of the more sordid details."

"Ben, too?" Heather asked, with hope in her voice that her fiancé was not involved.

"Sorry, sweetie," Tiffany said, and her voice was soft for the first time. "Ben, too."

"What about Adam?" Josie asked in a curious voice. "Wasn't he there, too?"

Tiffany smiled. "Adam got lucky this weekend, but he did not fuck either of those two little whores. He was so cute and so sweet and so gentlemanly to Holli, she broke one of her cardinal rules and stayed to talk to him after her escort left. And then she broke her other cardinal rule and fucked his brains out."

Kelsey frowned. "Wait, isn't she a lesbian?"

Tiffany giggled. "Technically she's bisexual, but she had not been with a man in more than two years. She's in a committed relationship with another woman and very happy, but she was so touched by Adam and his story about Jocelyn that she desperately wanted to have some of his cock. So she called Michelle, her lover, and got the approval."

"Why are you so happy about all of this?" Kelsey demanded. "Why are you so goddamn cheerful?"

"I got fucked real good last night," Tiffany admitted.

Kelsey sat up in her chair. "You fucked Trent, knowing he'd cheated on you?"

Tiffany leveled her friend with a very serious stare. "I didn't say I fucked Trent," she told them, and in that moment all three girls were suddenly on the edge of their seats.

"You fucked another man?" Heather whispered. "Who?"

And so Tiffany responded. "That question must follow the first question," she said, "which is WHY I fucked another man. And the answer to that is simple."

"Tell us," Josie demanded, riveted.

Tiffany smiled. "It does not surprise me that Trent cheated, nor does it surprise me that Dave and Ben cheated. The three of them are like peas in a pod. Machismo is everything. I do not want to leave Trent, but nor can I let things stand as they are. So I see this as a golden opportunity to spread my sexual wings and experience more than just my husband has to offer. I see this as an invitation to fuck another man without any feelings of guilt."

Kelsey was letting the idea wash over her. "An interesting concept," she admitted. "And you put it to work last night, obviously."

Tiffany sighed and leaned back in her chair, very satisfied. "I did," she admitted, "and it was incredible. It felt so good to have another cock in me again, you can't imagine."

"Oh, I think I can," Heather said as her eyes fluttered shut. Her imagination was quite obviously in overdrive. "How did you find the guy?"

"I didn't have to look very far," Tiffany said, and suddenly her voice was very low. "I fucked Adam."

Kelsey, Heather, and Josie all let out a collective gasp, but it was Josie who spoke first. "Adam? He would never do something like that!"

"He didn't!" Tiffany said excitedly. "It's a great story actually. Holli helped me out. She invited Adam over to her place, they had dinner, and she fucked him again. I watched the whole thing and it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I was so fucking horny! When Adam was asleep, Holli and I tied him spread-eagle to the bed—remember how Jocelyn always laughed about how hard he slept after sex—and when he woke up, Holli blindfolded him. She fooled around with him for a bit before I left my hiding place, straddled him, and rode him like there was no tomorrow. I gotta tell you, between what Holli has told me, what I remember Jocelyn telling me, and the amazing feel of that man's cock between my legs, Adam Cross might just be one of the best ever in that department."

"That's devious, Tiffany," Josie said in a scolding tone, but with a big smile on her face.

"I love it," Kelsey admitted.

"Did Adam find out?" Heather asked.

Tiffany nodded. "He knew it wasn't Holli fucking him. He could tell! He actually said he knew because every woman feels different, or something like that. And so we pulled the blindfold off and showed him who it was."

"What did he say?" Kelsey asked, very much intrigued.

"He wasn't upset, not really. I mean, it's not like he could've done something and it's not like he knew ahead of time it was me. He thought it was Michelle, Holli's partner. He was concerned, though, and asked me why."

At which point Tiffany proceeded to tell her friends exactly what she had told Adam about her reasoning and what she wanted from him, and exactly what he had said in response. And when she was done with the story, she leaned back and watched the wheels of her friends' minds turning madly.

"What do you think he will say?" Josie asked breathlessly, a slight flush on her cheeks. "Do you think he'll fuck you again?"

Tiffany shrugged. "I don't know, but I hope so."

"Do you think he'll fuck me?" Kelsey asked in a low and lusty voice.

And Tiffany grinned. "I had a feeling you might ask that."

* * *

It was Friday, six days after his extraordinary Saturday night in Vegas and four days from the night of his sexual encounter with Holli and Tiffany, and Adam still had no idea what to do.

Having already consulted Trent, Dave, and Ben, all of whom in essence without knowing so gave him the green light to fuck their wives, there were only two people left he trusted enough to seek guidance from.

The first of those was Jocelyn herself, which is how Adam found himself early that afternoon seated on the green, green grass of the cemetery, next to her grave. The stone at the head read, Jocelyn Barnes, Beloved Daughter and Sister, and Loving Friend. It was enough for Adam to sit there in silence for long minutes before saying what he wanted to say, which was to tell her he still loved her and missed her, and would always love and miss her no matter the circumstance, and also to ask her to send him a sign on his issue with Tiffany McCullough, one of Jocelyn's oldest and dearest friends.

"Any kind of sign will do, love," he whispered softly, passing a hand across his misty eyes. "There are too many layers in this to work through myself. I miss you."

He drove straightaway from the cemetery the two hours necessary to take him to the University of California, Santa Barbara, where Jocelyn's younger sister, Jessica Barnes, was currently a senior. Jessica was a smart, beautiful, and compassionate young woman, very much like Jocelyn herself had been, and the two sisters had been very close. Adam and Jessica had always been very good friends, but had not had much contact since her passing; remembrance brought too much pain.

And yet now, Adam very much needed the counsel of a trusted female friend, which brought him to the door of her apartment. He knocked and waited with anxious anticipation, wondering what she would think and say.

The light through the peephole winked out and a muffled voice on the other side of the door called, "Who is it?"

"It's Adam," he said simply.

The door opened and Jessica asked hesitantly, "Adam?" Several silent moments passed without an expression or reaction of any kind from her, and he wondered with a flash of concern if the girl was going to cry. She did not, however; in fact, quite the opposite happened.

Her beautiful young face, wholesome and innocent, broke into a wide grin as she stepped forward to embrace him. Her scent overtook him; she smelled just like Jocelyn used to, which was unexpected. But the moment passed and he hugged her back with a smile of his own, and he realized that they had finally moved past their need for solidarity.

"Jessica," he said softly, "it is so good to see you."

She pulled away. "It's good to be seen," she replied with a hint of her usual sass. "Come inside. We've got so much to catch up on."

Which is why, nearly an hour later, they had been talking non-stop and yet Adam still had not broached the subject which brought him to her in the first place. He did not mind, however; they both realized how much they meant to each other, both as friends and as connections to the lost loved one they shared.

Adam learned the beautiful blonde with the dark blue eyes that reminded him so very much of Jocelyn was doing very well in school, had earned herself the captainship of the women's volleyball team for her senior season—she was on scholarship and quite the athlete—and was dating a member of the UCSB baseball team.

But eventually the conversation wound down and Adam saw fit to tell her, in great detail, of his problem. He left nothing out: the bachelor party, the night with Holli, the aftermath, the cheating of the other men, the bait-and-switch by Holli and Tiffany, her subsequent offer, his conversation with the husbands, and finally his time spent with Jocelyn.

She asked simple questions here or there, but otherwise remained silent throughout, taking and considering everything he said, and at the end of the story she was silent longer still, thoughtful as ever as she studied him, until finally she said, "I think you should do it, Adam."

Which surprised him greatly. "Do what?"

"Pleasure them, silly," she said with a girlish giggle, showing a little of what the average twenty-two year-old was like. But Jessica was no average college co-ed and her next statement cut to the core of him. "Jocelyn would tell you do it. She would rather it be you than some other man. We shared everything, she and I, so I know how deeply she loved you, Adam, and I also know how her mind worked, perhaps better than anyone. She would want this to happen. She would tell you to do it."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked quietly.

Jessica smiled. "There are six people Jocelyn cared about more than any others in the whole of the world. You and me, and her four friends. The more happiness we derive from each other the happier she will be from her place in the heavens."

"So you're saying I should sleep with Tiffany?"

Jessica giggled again. "I have a feeling there may be more than just that in store, Adam."

"What do you mean?"

"Jocelyn, Tiffany, Kelsey, Heather, Josie. The five of them shared everything, everything and anything. There was nothing unknown to the group. I can guarantee Kelsey and Heather know of their husbands' infidelity; it is logical to assume they also know the story of how Tiffany fucked you. They may come looking for their own little piece of the pie, especially if Tiffany explained her reasoning, which I guarantee she did."

Adam was dumbfounded.

"I'm not saying it will happen for sure," Jessica continued, "but it is certainly a possibility. Every woman is different, but those four are more alike than most. And one thing they all share, Jocelyn included as you well know, is a strong sexual appetite. That much I know from experience."

Adam was still not sure. "Is it not an unethical thing to do, though?"

The blonde girl shrugged. "In the eyes of some, maybe. Certainly not in the eyes of the husbands. And not in my eyes, nor in Jocelyn's. Which is, I suppose, what you really came here to find out."

And so they talked for a few more minutes after she said that, both knowing their night was drawing to a close, and then she rose and walked him to the door, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before saying, "You were an important part of my sister's life, Adam. Please be an important part of my life. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

And Adam smiled and said, "Okay, Jess," and kissed her back, and right around seven o'clock, headed down to his car for the drive home.

* * *

Tiffany and Trent were "dining out" people, which basically meant that they were exceedingly wealthy, that she could not cook, and that they had not yet discovered the pleasure and convenience of a personal chef for the home. On this night of nights, a Friday as it happened to be, their restaurant of choice was some fine little Italian place of his choosing in Century City.

"I never got to ask you how your trip was," Tiffany said finally as the salads arrived.

Trent shrugged. "Good times," he replied. "Can't go wrong with Vegas, you know."

"What did you guys do?" she asked sweetly, betraying none of her knowledge of the subject.

Another shrug, very non-committal. "Drank. Partied. Gambled. You know, guy stuff."

Tiffany tried to recall all the times Trent had returned from work or trips and been vague about his activities, and the answer was easily more times than she could count. She was about to ask another question when his cell phone rang.

"Sorry, sweets," he said, glancing down. "Gotta take this one. Might be a minute."

"I'm going to the little ladies room," Tiffany said. For all his charms and his sexual abilities, the man could often times be a complete ass.

The restaurant's ladies room was a definite plus: ultra-clean and ultra-nice with marble tiling, ornate fixtures, couches for lounging, and large individual sound-proof compartments where the toilets were. It was very impressive and immediately thrust the restaurant high up Tiffany's list.

She had only just been able to take the whole of the place in when she heard the door open behind her and she felt strong hands take hold of her, forcing her into one of the compartments. Fear overtook her and a rough hand over her mouth stifled her ability to scream, but when those rough hands spun her around to face her tormentor, she was suddenly very glad she had not.

The face of Adam Cross was inches away from her own, dark eyes blazing with an intensity that she had not seen in him before. Without warning, the strong hands holding her shoulders drew her to him and mashed his lips against hers; she was stunned and her legs nearly buckled as she swooned from the heat of the kiss, her first kiss with another man since meeting her husband.

And then they broke apart, and Tiffany realized how heavily she was breathing, and also how wet she was between her legs.

"I accept," he said huskily. "Are you ready?"

"Here?" Uncertainty washed over her. Her husband was outside.

His eyes eviscerated her. "I am going to fuck you," he said, "and I am going to fuck you HARD."

Her eyes widened but she did not speak; she was, in truth, more turned on than she had been in a long, long time. He converged on her, taking her silence as affirmation, and his arms wrapped around her and drew her tightly against him as his mouth closed over hers again. Her luscious red lips parted and allowed his tongue to sweep inside, to taste and be tasted, and explore. After a long moment they broke to catch their breaths again, and as they did so Tiffany gazed deeply—and for the first real time—into the man's eyes.

She had little time to revel in the lusty, smoldering fire she found there, however; he came upon her again and her thoughts dissolved into the warmth of his mouth as his wet tongue slipped in and curled around hers.

A moan escaped her lips as his strong hands groped at her body, strong and rough, and yet somehow maintaining an obvious gentility. He pressed against her body, grinding himself upon her, and as his hardening cock jutted into her thighs, the sensations nearly overwhelmed her.

Adam's hands gripped her thighs and paused a moment, before they began to languorously slide up the sides of Tiffany's lithe body. They glided over the expensively smooth material of her expensive evening dress, over the rounded curves of her hips and down into the gully of her tiny waist, before fanning out over her ribcage to close over the warm mountains of her breasts. Her nipples hardened as he touched her, and she could feel the liquid flowing from her pussy begin to overwhelm her silk panties and seep out onto the bare skin of her legs.

She growled and found her aggression again, never long misplaced, and lashed out to capture his lips in hers, needing to taste him, to probe every inch of his mouth. His hands continued to fondle her breasts, groping them roughly, all tenderness vanished.

They were now only slaves to their lust. She crumbled into the sexual being she so desperately loved becoming; she was an animal and thrilled by Adam like nothing ever had thrilled her before. She arched her back, pushing her ample bosom farther into his massaging palms.

Removing his lips from hers, he lapped at her cheeks and neck with quick butterfly strokes, mixing in little kisses and nibbles on her flesh. His nimble fingers darted up and deftly flicked the spaghetti straps from her shoulders, just far enough that her breasts tumbled free and into his awaiting hands. The firm melons plopped into his palms and his fingers immediately grazed over the tiny pink nipples. She shivered and whimpered, and her hands gripped his head.