Mafia Desire (Erotica)

The subject that was on everyone’s minds did come up as Gerald and Joyce cuddled that evening.

“You know, my man,” she said, drawing little circles on his bare chest with her index finger, “there’s a difficulty we’re going to be facing pretty soon. Maybe we’re already facing it.”

“What’s that?” he said.

“Oh, Gerald, you must know. Here you are, trying to keep four different females happy. Even you, with your seemingly endless reserves of energy, might end up exhausting yourself in the course of time.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Maybe,” he conceded grudgingly.

“So the issue is: can we get another man to take some of the burden off your shoulders?”

“You sure Tara’s husband is out of the picture?”

“He’s gone to Florida with that little piece of fluff. I doubt he’ll be coming back anytime soon.”

“I can’t think of anyone else.”

“You sure?”

Gerald didn’t reply, and they both lapsed into silence. After a while, with extreme reluctance, Gerald finally came out with: “There’s my brother.”

“Your brother?” Joyce said, startled. “You never told me you had a brother.”

“We–we haven’t gotten along lately.”

“Why is that?”

Gerald again fell silent, and when Joyce glared at him demanding a reply, he blurted out: “I think he slept with my wife!”

Joyce gasped. “Oh, come on. I don’t know anything about him, but surely he’d never do anything like that.”

“He might have!”

“But you don’t really know?”

“Well, no. Look, Joyce, Keith and I had a great relationship once–in fact, he introduced me to my wife, Caroline. They worked together at this nonprofit, and she kept on working there after we were married, all the way up to the time she got ill and . . .” And died.

“Okay, fine, but do you have any evidence that they had an affair? Did you ever confront them about it?”

“Not really. But there were times when they were spending a lot of time at the office–I mean evenings. Why did they do that?”

“Gerald, some people do have to work late at the office.”

“I know but . . . they never gave me really good answers as to what they were doing.”

“My dear, I think you’ve gotten worked up about nothing. I mean, maybe there was something going on, but unless you have real proof you’d better let this go. Anyway, you can’t stay mad at him forever: he’s your brother, and eventually you’ll have to reconcile with him, no matter what you think he did.”

Gerald said nothing, lapsing into a sulk.

“Why don’t you have him over for dinner?” Joyce suggested. “I’m sure we’d all like to meet him. And maybe he and Tara will hit it off.”

“Okay,” Gerald said sourly.

Even so, Gerald took a while extending the invitation. Keith Wilkins only lived a few miles away, but he was happy to come by and meet Gerald’s new girlfriend.

On the day he was to show up, all four females seemed to be in a tizzy. They all believed that, being Gerald’s brother, Keith had to be a nice guy. What did he look like? Had he been married? (He hadn’t.) There were more intimate questions that Hilary and Bridget exchanged among themselves, replete with chuckles and giggles.

At his arrival Keith was greeted with open arms. In fact, he was rather taken aback at all the women who were there: Gerald hadn’t told him about any of them aside from Joyce. He was a few inches shorter than his brother, about five foot seven, but was so muscular in chest and thighs that he looked like a fullback; but there was an aching tenderness in his face that seemingly caused the young ladies almost to swoon. They managed to restrain themselves when saying hello to him, while Tara, her eyes shining, extended a trembling hand and felt the faintest bit of electricity when Keith took it in his.

After that, Hilary, Bridget, and Tara retreated to the kitchen while Gerald and Joyce made small talk with the newcomer.

“Omigod, Mom!” Bridget gurgled. “He’s so handsome!”

“Yes, he’s quite good-looking,” Tara admitted.

“Good-looking?” Hilary said. “He’s a dreamboat! Maybe I prefer Gerald just a wee bit, but Keith’s no slouch.”

“He’s about the same height as you, Mom,” Bridget observed. “That’ll make it good for stand-up sex.”

“What?” Tara cried.

“Hilary told me that. If you want to have sex–with a man, that is–standing up, you have to be about the same height. Otherwise your genitals won’t line up.”

“I am not thinking of having sex with him!” Tara said, outraged.

“Aren’t you?” Hilary smirked. “You probably got wet just from touching his hand.”

“I did not!” (But she had.)

“Well, we can worry about that later. Right now, let’s shovel some good food into the guy’s mouth.”

The dinner menu included pork chops, roasted potatoes, French-cut green beans, and a green salad, with a nice chocolate cake for dessert. Everyone found the meal satisfying; but it became obvious that the women in particular were encouraging Tara and Keith to get better acquainted. When he heard how her husband had bolted from her, his natural sympathy for women came out, and he focused all his attention on her. A definite chemistry was developing.

But, even though the young women thought something of a physical nature might happen that very night, Keith presently thanked everyone for a lovely evening and gave brief hugs to Joyce, Hilary, and Bridget. When it came to saying goodbye to Tara, he held her in his strong arms quite a bit longer, keeping her close so that it was clear he could feel her breasts pressing up against his chest. A kiss that he intended to place on her cheek ended up as a smooch on her neck, causing Tara to shiver uncontrollably.

Hilary and Bridget gave each other knowing looks. We know what she’s going to do when she goes up to her bedroom. Her undies are probably sopping wet right now.

Keith began coming over frequently, and after three or four visits it became evident that he and Tara had formed a real bond. But Joyce was keen on settling one matter that was in some ways even more important than this budding relationship. One afternoon she had a heart-to-heart talk with Keith about his brother and his brother’s wife.

“I know,” she said without preamble, “that you and Gerald haven’t always gotten along.”

“Yes,” Keith said laconically.

“I really have trouble believing what he thinks you did.” She’d spent enough time with Keith to know he was a fundamentally decent man.

“You mean, that I slept with his wife?” Keith said bitterly. “Glad you give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“Just to clear the air: you didn’t, did you?”

“Good Lord, no! I’d never do anything like that. I love my brother–and I loved Caroline, but only as his wife.”

“Then why does he think–”

“Look, Joyce, Gerald can be pretty good at hiding things. I think what happened was that, when Caroline got sick, he didn’t think I was being as sympathetic and supportive as I should have been. And maybe that’s true, although God knows I tried to be there for both of them as much as I could. I actually thought it would be better if I stepped back a bit: we all knew what was going to happen, and I felt that the two of them needed as much time together as possible, so they could say all the things they had to say before it was too late.

“And so, after her death, Gerald fell into a bit of a depression. Not surprising, and I didn’t blame him! But then he started to blame me for all sorts of things–and I think he seized on this crazy idea of an affair between me and his wife just as a way of expressing his grief and anger at what had happened.”

“I hope he’s getting over it now.”

“I think he is–thanks to you. Not just because you’re now there for him, but because you’ve helped bring us back together. Both of us owe you more than we can possibly say about that.”

“Well, that takes a big load off my mind. Let’s turn to something much more pleasant.”

“What’s that?”

“Tara.”

All of a sudden, Keith’s eyes got dreamy. “She’s a wonderful creature.”

“Yes, she is. And she admires you too. Do you think you’re ready to take the next step?”

“I am. Is she?”

“I’m pretty sure she is.”