Handsome

1. Uninvited

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The door opened a hair, and an eye peeked out. “Yes?” 

Anders Hansen parted his lips, knowing the effect it seemed to have on women. “Hi, I know this is unusual, but I noticed your pineapple sign. Does it mean the same thing to you as it does me?” He grinned, keeping his question terse, so if the woman wasn’t versed in the meaning of the pineapple, she’d be none the wiser. 

The single dark eye followed his finger to the welcome sign hanging on the side of the house. The door opened a foot wider. Her eyes, now both visible, widened. 

He knew what she was thinking: Are you for real? He’d been fawned over as an extraordinarily handsome man his entire life. 

“Yes, yes, it is. Are you? Well—” She opened the door wider, her gaze lingering over his body, from the tips of his leather Cole Haan dress shoes to his lean frame and wide shoulders. She giggled, placing two fingers over her lips. “Please, I’m sorry. Of course, you are, or you wouldn’t have asked.” Stepping back from the door, she waved him inside. She reached up and removed the clip from her ashy-blonde hair, allowing it to fall to her shoulders, which made no improvement to her looks. When she was in her twenties, she would have been only average at best, now pushing forty trying to look hot was a hopeless cause. 

“I apologize for the unexpected intrusion.” He shrugged, giving a shy boyish grin. “I happened to be in the neighborhood and saw the sign.” He stepped in toward the tall woman, and moved close enough for her to pick up the heat radiating from his body, letting her smell his heady cologne. 

Her breath came faster, her excitement visible. “No. One should never let a good opportunity go to waste. Do you want a drink? I’ll get my husband Frank out here while I freshen up, okay?”

He pushed in closer, brushing the hair from her forehead, giving her the impression that all he wanted was her. He needed this to happen. He was ready and his mind vibrated with anticipation of what was to come. 

“No drink, thank you.” He took her hand, pressing it to his lips. “Don’t be long.”

Her cheeks reddened, her eyelids slid to half-mast, and her breathing grew rapid. “Yes. Ah, sugar, I’ll hurry now,” she said as she pulled away, making a beeline to an unseen room. “Frank!” she called out, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

He walked into the kitchen, picked up a nineties-style black lacquered dining chair with grey patterned soft seat, and returned to the living room with it. Moving with steady purpose, he closed the living room curtains, clicked on two table lamps, and set his briefcase on the coffee table. 

A noise from behind caught his ear. 

“Hey, there, friend.” A short, chubby man in his mid-forties entered, hand extended for a shake.

He reciprocated. “Hello, I hope you are game as well?”

Frank laughed. “Hell, I’m a guy, ain’t I? I’m always up for play time. It’s generally up to the women anyways, isn’t it?” Noticing the dinning chair, now in the living room, he raised a brow. “You got plans, do you?”

“I hope you don’t mind. I have a certain way I like to do things.”

Frank waved him off and stepped back to the kitchen, returning a moment later, beer in hand. “Nah, I’m easy.” He leaned in as though conspiring. “As long as Barbie’s happy, I’m happy. And getting some!” 

The smell of stale cigarettes and beer assaulted the gorgeous man’s nose, he turned to resume his machinations ignoring the obscene man.

“What’s your name, pal? I can’t very well let you have your way with my wife and not know your name,” Frank said, circling to the back of the chair to see what he was up to.

“Anders Hansen.”

“Hansen, is that slang for handsome?” Barbie said entering the room. She’d changed from her jeans and t-shirt into a worn lacy red teddy that needed to see the other side of a garbage can. 

Hansen continued his charade. Taking her hand, he gave her a twirl, and a low whistle. In his mind, he gagged at her long sagging rear-end and cellulite-pocked legs. “Perfection,” he cooed. 

“Oooo, ropes, kinky. Do I sit here?” she said rubbing the seat.

Frank chugged his beer, flopping onto the couch. “Great viewing area, you’re a smart one, son.” 

Hansen shook his head. “Frank gets the honor of the chair,” he replied, drawing the woman closer to his side. “It turns me on when the man is helpless while I take care of his wife.”

Barbie made a giggling noise of pure pleasure which came out sounding like she smoked a pack of cigarettes and needed to cough up a wad of phlegm. Hansen rested his arm around her waist. 

“All right.” Frank thunked his bottle down on the table. “But nothing weird for me, man. I just like to watch.”

Hansen nodded as he brought rope from his briefcase. Moving behind Frank and securing him to the chair, he said, “I bet you’d like it if she took you in her mouth while I pleasure her from behind, right?”

A dribble of saliva escaped the corner of Frank’s lip. He slurped it up with a chuckle. “Now you’re talking my lingo, handsome baby.”

Barbie ran her hands over Hansen’s back, bottom, and thighs while he worked. It took every fibre of his being to keep from punching her in the face and not stopping until she was unrecognizable. He knew, though, what he was about to do would be much more satisfying. 

Finished, he stood almost eye to eye with the unusually tall woman. He smiled, giving her all his pearly whites. He blew warm air into her ear, exposed the other shoulder, and let the teddy hit the floor.

Her eyes were closed and her chest heaved. She moved faster than he expected grabbing his shoulders to pull him in for a passionate kiss. 

Hansen pulled back. “Wait.” He held her firm. “I need you too badly now. We’ll explore each other later.”

“Oh, yes, get rough! I want you inside me. Please don’t tease me. Hurry!”

“You must take care of Frank, too, darling.” He turned her towards her husband who was bound helpless and waiting in the chair. Pressing her to her knees he said, “Suck him.”

Wanting to please Hansen for her own selfish pursuits, she unzipped Frank’s pants. He, too, was ready for fun and already aroused.

“There you are,” Hansen said, rubbing Barbie’s hair. 

Frank’s head was back, eyes closed, moaning. 

Hansen brought a shorter rope from his pocket, slipping it unseen under Barbie’s chin and around her neck. He said, “Now it’s my turn.”

***

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