Wingman

Every time I stopped kissing her, she chanted an endless stream of husky whispers, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

I breathed into her ear, "Tell me when you're going to cum, pretty Peggy."

Her hands were balled into fists that had a death grip on the sheets. Her abdomen and legs were rigid.

"Cumming!" was all she got out as her legs began to vibrate and then kick. I kissed her deeply although she nearly bit my tongue.

She was breathing like she just sprinted to the finish line in a race, whupping me again. She lay on her back with her rapid breathing starting to slow, unable to form words. Her eyes finally focused, and she looked at me in wonder. That was the moment I decided to take a chance. The fingers of my right hand were covered with her juices. I raised them to my mouth deliberately. She watched intently as I sucked them.

"Your pussy juice is delicious," I told her.

It was a good guess that she had blushed, even though I could not see it.

I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I want more of it."

Her eyes opened more widely as words tried to form in her mouth. I started with her nipples and began to kiss my way down her body. Her breathing was frantic, but she said nothing. Soon, my mouth was between her spread legs. I looked up at her face, which held a combination of fear and pleading. I never broke eye contact with her.

"May I?" I asked.

She nodded quickly, and I began to eat her out.

"Oh, God!" she moaned, as she surrendered, pulling her legs up wide, bending her knees, and spreading herself open.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them and never left mine. She only stopped looking at me when the orgasms overtook her and her legs spasmed and kicked, and she squeezed my head with her thighs. I made her cum three times with my mouth. When I was done, she was a limp rag doll. I could have fucked her, and she would have offered no resistance. Instead, I just held her.

After about five minutes, she turned to me without a word and kissed me on the mouth. When she realized she was tasting her own pussy juice, she kissed me more deeply. She pulled back, looked at me with a devilish grin, and began to pull my T-shirt up. I had to sit up to help her get it off. She tossed it off the bed. Then, she began to pull my shorts down, pushing my butt up to get them off.

When she had me naked, she took my cock in her hand, pumped it a few times, and the lay down between my legs to suck it. She looked up from her work occasionally to see if I liked it. I did. After a moment, she crawled up my body, straddled my hips, and lowered herself onto me. She threw her face up to the ceiling and groaned as she sank down. When she was fully impaled, she lowered herself completely onto my torso and gently rocked her hips back and forth as she kissed me. I tried to speak, but she kissed me quiet.

Before long, I was ready to go. I tried to warn her, but she kissed me quiet again. Nevertheless, she slowed her rocking motion. She kept me on the edge for what seemed to be forever. Then, slowly, she began to increase her tempo. I thought she was doing it for me, but after a moment, she went rigid and her legs spasmed as she came.

She rested for a moment on my chest before kissing me again.

"Your turn," she said with a lazy smile. "You're way overdue."

She sat up and began to bounce up and down on my cock.

"I want you to cum in my mouth, so tell me when you're close," she said.

I needed no encouragement. After a few moments, I called it.

"Now!"

She dismounted me like an Olympic gymnast and had my cock in her mouth before I knew it. Soon, I was unloading, and she was swallowing greedily. After a moment, she crawled up and collapsed on her side with her back to me.

"Now you can spoon me."

I did. Peggy stroked my arms as I squeezed her. As I began to think, however, I felt more uncomfortable. Finally, I had to get it out.

"That was great, but I feel like I just cheated."

Without a beat, she replied, "Of course you did, but Malibu Barbie did it first. And did it more times. You're only starting to get caught up."

I had to laugh. Who cared about Lori? Lori who?

"I was talking about Verónica."

Now, Peggy laughed.

"Oh, her. Nah. You're clear there. Right before she jumped on the bus, she grabbed me and said, 'Take care of him for me until I see him again. Take him to bed if you want, but don't take his heart.'"

"What?"

"That's all she said, but her friends gave me a complete mission briefing beforehand, Maverick. It all makes sense. She's a serious student and very rarely dates. She wants to be a doctor, so she is studying all the time to get the best grades she can. For some reason, she likes you. She's probably drunk, and when she sobers up, you are toast, but right now, she wants to make sure you're out there available when you finally figure out what you're doing with your life. In other words, my mission, if I choose to accept it, is to keep you busy until you get your head out of your ass."

This last bit, she said with a smile as she looked back at me over her shoulder.

"That's a strange strategy," I said.

"Oh, like you've got something else going on in life that is going to make you whine about it."

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"Just don't fall in love with me."

"I'll try not to."

Peggy turned to face me at that.

"I'm serious. I think you're the kind of guy that does. You are not about casual sex. And that's great, but let's not over-think any of this right now. Let's just enjoy the moment. OK?"

I must have looked ambivalent because Peggy upped the ante.

"Pinky promise that you're not going to fall in love with me."

She stuck her right pinky out.

"Deal," I said, "as long as you agree to the same terms."

"HA!" she said with a huge smile.

"No way that's going to happen!"

I pretended to be offended.

"What? I didn't just rock your world?"

"Hmm, you get the job done."

She took my hand, turned so I was spooning her, and wrapped my arm around her.

Before dropping off to sleep, she said, "You get the job done well enough that I can say this: Malibu Barbie is fucking nuts to give you up. And I thought meteorologists were supposed to be smart."

"She's not a meteorologist. She's a sexy weathergirl. Sorry. Weather reporter."

"Guess so."

She was quiet for a moment.

"Was she right?"

"Who?"

"Verónica."

"About what?"

"My ass. Do I have a nice ass?"

"Heck, yeah. I didn't need her opinion about that. I saw that the first night. If it weren't for the f'ing pinky deal, I would have done you doggy as soon as we came upstairs."

"Nice to know."

She paused again.

"What about my tits?"

I reached around and cupped both before squeezing them. They filled my hands.

"They get the job done."

I kissed her neck, and she wiggled her butt against my groin, while pulling my hands lower so that they were around her stomach.

Then, she said, "And for the record, if Malibu Barbie turned you gay, you're going to be horrible at it."

We woke up still spooned. I would have been fine staying like that for a while, but Peggy said it was time to get going for a run before breakfast because we had a busy day. We were planning to go to Windsor that morning. For that morning's run, we went into town through Chelsea, Belgravia, past Buckingham Palace, and into Hyde Park. We had to go more slowly now because we were crossing streets and it took extra effort when crossing at intersections to remember that they drove wrong-sided there.

It was a humid morning so we got back to the hotel sweat-drenched. We had gone out a side door when we left and not past reception. Going back in, however, we saw that Joanna and Alexandra were both at the desk again. As we passed them, Peggy insisted on holding hands with me and swinging them so that the girls could see. They did, and their eyes got big. Peggy was smiling broadly at them. I just shrugged.

Back up in the room, after I pulled off my shirt, Peggy insisted on smelling my chest, licking the sweat off me, and telling me I was absolutely rancid. I was about to say something back, when she suddenly stripped bare, except for her shoes and socks, got on her hands and knees on the bed, and presented her ass to me, telling me that she wanted a sweaty morning quicky to start the day. Fortunately, I was able to oblige. We showered together and went down for breakfast, again past Joanna and Alexandra, who both just laughed. As we ate, it occurred to me that Lori always wanted to shower as soon as we had sex. That was the last I thought of her that day.

For the rest of our time in London, Peggy and I were like newlyweds on a honeymoon. There was really never a moment when we were not touching each other. The day after we went to Windsor, we went to see the antiquities in the British Museum. On our last day, as we checked out to catch our train to Dover, Joanna was settling the bill.

Peggy leaned over to her and said in a low voice, "I want you to know that he was a perfect gentleman. But I was no lady."

She leaned back with a big smile that Joanna matched before she began to laugh.

Then, Joanna arched an eyebrow and asked, "And?"

"He gets the job done."

They both giggled. Those days, after Lori, I was happy for any public praise I got, so I just smiled.

Peggy and Joanna finally stopped giggling, kissed each other on both cheeks, and we left. After a taxi ride, we were soon snuggled on the train to Dover. On the ferry to Belgium, we were wrapped together on the deck as we crossed the Channel with Peggy wearing my jacket because the wind was kicking up. At that moment, it occurred to me that it had been a long while since I had thought about Lori for any length of time and that she made a perfect ex.

Peggy and I spent a great long weekend in Amsterdam. While we sat in a café passing some time before we had to get to our train to Berlin, I called my divorce lawyer. By then, it had been more than a month since Lori had said she wanted to separate and more than three weeks since she had been served with the divorce complaint. My lawyer told me that the deadline for her to have answered the complaint or to have filed a motion to dismiss it had passed. We could seek a default judgment, but my lawyer wanted to play it safe by putting a belt and suspenders on the case by proving Lori's adultery. That way, if she tried some crazy drama later, we would not have to do much to pick up the pieces. Since Lori's money was financing everything, I said fine.

Peggy was watching me as I was on the phone.

"She didn't file a response?"

"Nope."

"Has she even called your lawyer on the phone?"

"Nope."

"Has she tried to call or e-mail you?"

"I got a new phone and a new phone number and blocked her e-mail addresses, so I don't know."

"Tried getting you through friends or family?"

"They've all got strict instructions to tell her that I'm working on an oil drilling rig off the coast of Norway to forget her. She called some of them a few weeks ago and then gave up."

Peggy shook her head.

"For a chick who claims she's not going to let you go, Malibu Barbie is sure not doing a lot to keep you."

I handed my phone to her.

"Maybe you can call her and tell her to get in the ring to fight for me. Would you be willing to bikini mud wrestle her on my behalf? Oooo! Even better! Jello or chocolate pudding!"

Peggy looked like she was considering it.

"We'd probably get amazing ratings. Verónica and I could do it tag-team. How much does Malibu Barbie weigh?"

"Probably has about ten pounds on you, but that's mostly in her tits, not muscles."

"I haven't heard any complaints so far," Peggy said.

"I'm not complaining. Yours do the job, like I said. It's just that hers are larger. All that they seem to be good for, though, is making men stupid, myself included."

"I don't know about stupid. You didn't bang the sports guy and his wife while you were married."

"They didn't ask me," I said, as I pretended to be about to cry.

"Come on," Peggy said with a smirk, "we've got to catch the train."

Our train crossed northern Germany as we read and napped, Peggy leaning on my shoulder. A little more than halfway there, as we waited in Hanover for more passengers to board, stroking our fingers back and forth, I looked at her.

"You know, you have really turned out to be a horrible wingman. You have not gotten me into bed with a single other girl since you took the job."

She did not look up at me, gazing only at out intertwined fingers.

"It turns out that I have a conflict of interest."

She reached up and pulled me into a kiss as a businessman opened the compartment door, took one look at us, and went to find another seat in another compartment. We laughed and snuggled back together.

The next six weeks were a blur of trains, long walks, museums and churches, and sex, but not at the same time. And punishing runs. Peggy was always ready to run a 10-K at the crack of dawn, except for Mondays, which were our rest days. I ran more than I ever had before and lost five pounds, even with all the eating and drinking that we were doing. The sweaty, post-run morning sex was a good incentive.

After Berlin, we went south to Prague, then Vienna, Venice, Rome, Florence, Nice, and finally Paris. What made it work for us without getting at each other's throats, which I had always heard travel could do to a couple, was that we learned to give each other room. We often split up after lunch to do our own thing for a few hours, met for coffee around 4:00, and then segued into a nice dinner and then a walk arm-in-arm before a final drink somewhere. We did not stay out too late, usually, because Peggy wanted to make sure we were not too sleepy to run. I'd say she was killing me, but it was a pleasant enough form of death.

I barely thought of Lori at all.

We were being more economical about lodging after London, so we were doing smaller hotels and Airbnbs. After all, I was no longer on the marital credit card. I was paying for the lodging, while Peggy paid for most of the food and the transportation not covered by our Eurail passes. I had most of the original $15,000 I got from Lori's credit card cash advance, plus what I liquidated from my 401(k) and IRA when I quit my job before I left. I know. I was a fool for not taking advantage of the power of interest compounding over time on those investments, but I was not even 24. I had time to start over. I did, however, want to husband the money to let me take my time before I had to go back to being a grownup.

Speaking of ages, it was in Venice on the overpriced nighttime gondola ride to celebrate Peggy's birthday that I learned she was only 19. She had skipped seventh grade and had started college just after she turned 17. The way she carried herself, I would have guessed 21.

On our last full day in Paris, we had spent the morning at the Rodin Museum and then the Musée d'Orsay looking at the sculptures. Afterwards, we were sitting in a café, having a second espresso because having just one when they are so small makes you feel like you've been cheated. The early August day was already hot, and it was only just a bit past noon. We were feeling a bit lazy about lunch and were wondering whether we should just delay it and have gelato first and then lunch, or lunch first and then gelato, or gelato then lunch then more gelato. We were leaning towards the third option.

The next day, we would board a train that would get us to Barcelona in the late afternoon. We wanted to spend a few days there and then head down the coast to find some comparatively quiet town near the beach. After that, it would be a train ride up to Madrid, where she would start her junior year abroad in a few weeks at the Complutense University. We wanted to do some sightseeing in the city and get her established in the apartment she had already arranged with another student so she would have an easy transition into school. I had no clue what I was going to do after that. I knew we were speeding to some sort of resolution between us and was not eager to get there. I wondered whether I really should try to get in touch with Verónica after Peggy got settled. The kisses with her were something else, but I did not know how serious she really was. We had traded a few e-mails in the meantime and had a few phone calls, but they were poor substitutes for seeing each other in person.

Peggy and I were comfortable being quiet with each other, but she eventually broke the silence.

"You promised, remember?"

"Hmm?"

"You pinky-promised me not to fall in love with me. I did the same. Remember that?"

She was not looking at me when she said it. She was gazing at the towers of Notre Dame over some nearby rooftops.

I waited a moment, then I said, "That's the hardest promise I ever made in my life."

"Me, too."

We were both getting teary-eyed, but our sunglasses hid it. Of course, the waiter took that moment to finally surface. I asked for the bill.

"We'll both be sad, of course," she said, "but we'll both get over it, and I hope we'll both be friends."

I wondered if it would be possible to see her again without getting sad.

"You know you can't stay with me because one of the main points of doing this kind of study-abroad program is to get pushed outside of your comfort zone, and that's not possible when someone like you is around who makes me so comfortable."

I was about to protest, when she cut me off.

"I know you would be supportive, but it's just a matter of different dynamics. This is the kind of thing you have to do by yourself, or mostly by yourself, otherwise it's not worth it. And, shit, I'm going to sound like Lori, but I'm only 19. I'm not mature enough to settle down now."

She finally looked at me sadly. I reached over and took her hand.

"You seem pretty smart for a teenager," I finally said. "Did you skip a grade or something?"

She simultaneously laughed and cried and hugged me like it was the end of the Earth. The waiter came back out with the bill but had the good sense to skedaddle when he saw us. I hugged her back and allowed myself a tear or two. After a moment, we relaxed, and I held her at arm's length.

"This doesn't mean we have to stop sleeping together, does it?"

She smiled.

"Not for a couple of weeks it doesn't."

We just sat and looked into each other's eyes.

"And we're still each other's wingmen when we start dating other people there," she said. "At least until you go wherever you're going."

She frowned.

"Where are you going anyway?"

"I'm going to Madrid with you. After that, no idea."

"Any idea how long you'll stay?"

"At least until the money's almost gone."

"Then we've got to fix you up with some bored heiress until Verónica's done with school, or she decides to take over. But here's the deal: condoms with anyone else unless and until we're certain that the new person has potential. Then we've got to tell each other. And, in the meantime, if we decide to be temporary fuck-buddies to burn off tension, that's okay. Agreed?"

She held out her right pinky finger. I hooked pinkies with her.

"Pinky promise."

An evil smile crept onto Peggy's face.

"If you're still married to Malibu Barbie, maybe you can grab another credit card. She's got money. I saw that she's got a show starting in the spring. They're already advertising it."

"Thanks for keeping me current. I haven't been doing any Googling. My lawyer says everything is going along. But no about the credit card. I'd have to fly home, stalk her, find out where she's living, break in, rifle her purse, and grab more cards. That's too much work, and it's too hot to move from this chair. She'd probably cancel them anyway this time. The heiress thing seems easier, while Verónica's studying. Assuming Verónica's still interested."