The Things We Do For Lust: Book 1: To The Edge Read online

  "Robin you know I don't think you're my property."

  "You're acting like I am."

  "Okay, maybe I'm being selfish, but I really want to spend more time with you."

  "I understand that Peter, don't you want me to have a good time?"

  "Yes. I do."

  "Then you need to understand you're starting to hurt me."

  "But can't you see what you're doing to me?"

  "No, Peter. You're doing it to yourself."

  "What?"

  "Do you believe I love you?"

  "Yeah."

  "Do you trust me?"

  "Of course I do."

  "Then you need to give me some space. I know what I'm doing. I'd never do anything I thought would come between us."

  That was a rather ambiguous statement, but I kept my mouth shut. I looked at my phone, it was ten til seven.

  "So are we good?" she asked again.

  "We need to get going."

  "Peter, that's not an answer."

  "It's the best I can give right now."

  She let out a heavy sigh. "I guess that will have to do. Can we call this a truce?"

  "Sure. I'll be good this evening."

  "Good," she said. She touched her cheek to mine and smacked her lips; a pretend kiss. "Get your wallet and let's go."

  ***

  We quickly made our way to the Zumanity theater located at the New York, New York Casino Resort. Well, we moved as quickly as we could with Robin in her high heels. We weaved our way between and around the mass of humanity that crowded the Vegas sidewalks on any given night. Besides the tourists there were various folks who feed off them, from the benign costumed performers working for tips, or salesmen hawking time shares, to the less trustworthy con men with their three-card monte. Walking from point A to point B was always an adventure in Vegas. That's why taxi cabs rule.

  I didn't think we'd make it in time, but we did. We found Scott pacing around the lobby, looking at his watch. He looked relieved when he saw us.

  "Great to see you guys, I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

  "It's my fault, it took me longer to get ready than I thought," I said.

  Scott didn't look like he was buying it. He appeared to want to make some sarcastic remark but stopped when he caught sight of my wife. He just looked at her without saying a word. His eyes glued to her's for a long moment, then glided down to scan her whole body.

  "You look absolutely stunning," he said.

  "Thank you," she said, giving him a curtsey.

  "That dress is amazing," he said. "Where did you get it?"

  "He knows," Robin said.

  "Yes, I know," I added, "and I want to thank you. She looks wonderful in it."

  I tried to grab her around the waist to pull her to my side, but I missed. She stumbled forward and had to reach out to Scott for support. She fell into his arms, their faces just inches apart. The moment held for what could have been an eternity. Their eyes locked. It looked like Robin was moving in for a kiss. I just stood there looking. She wouldn't let me kiss her for fear of messing up her lipstick, but here she was leaning in to Scott. My stomach did a small flip. I had to force myself to not get mad. 'Robin loves you,' I kept repeating in my head.

  Before their lips could make contact, Scott's eyes caught mine. He pulled his face back while keeping Robin from falling.

  "That was close," he said, breaking the spell. I wasn't sure if he was referring to the stumble or the kiss. I wasn't really sure it mattered. "Let's go inside and find our seats."

  Robin turned and looked at me. "You coming?" she said, ignoring the near miss kiss.

  "There's some neat interactive play between the performers and audience before the show begins," Scott said as he led us in. "Plus you do not want to walk in late, especially with our seats."

  "So, you've seen this show before," I said.

  "Yeah, actually this will be my third time."

  We had our tickets scanned and were allowed into the inner lobby. I spied a long bar on the left. "I need a drink," I said. "You want anything Robin?"

  "A white wine. How about you Scott?"

  "Johnny Walker. Blue if they have it, Black if not."

  I was about to say something sarcastic about buying him a $60 shot of scotch, then I remembered Robin's dress. "Cool."

  Robin took Scott's arm and he led her off towards the entrance to the theater.

  "Fuck me," I whispered to myself. Earlier in the evening I was pissed that Scott was tagging along with us, now it was me doing the tagging. I really hoped Robin knew what she was doing.

  "Let me have a glass of your house Chardonnay and a shot of Johnny Walker." I scanned the shelves, of course they had it. "Blue, with a couple ice chips."

  The kid behind the bar moved quickly to get my order. He was dressed like a bartender with a pair of black pants and a black vest over a white shirt, but the atmosphere was more like a movie theater concession stand. He poured the wine out of a soda gun. At least the scotch got poured out of a bottle.

  "Anything else?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I'll have a large ginger ale." My stomach was still bothering me. The ginger ale should help. "And give it a double shot of Jameson." If the soda didn't help, the whiskey would.

  "Anything else?"

  "That'll do."

  "Okay, that'll be $93.50."

  Ninety bucks for three drinks. I really hoped they pay these performers well, I thought. I pulled out my billfold and gave the kid 6 twenties. "Keep the change."

  "Thank you very much."

  I collected my drinks and made my way to the theater. I had to carry my ticket between my teeth since my hands were full. An usher gently took the ticket. She looked to be about nineteen years old and wore an extra-large T-shirt with a design that made it appear she was wearing very skimpy lingerie.

  "You're in a couch seat up front," she said. She looked at my burden. "I hope you're not here alone."

  "No," I said. Despite how I was feeling inside, I laughed and replied, "Would be kinda sad if I was." It was sad, but in a different way.

  I followed the girl to my seat. As we made our way through the dimly lit aisles I saw a few performers randomly roaming the crowd making sexual jokes and doing simple crude and rude acrobatic stunts. There was a shirtless, long haired Lothario coming on to a couple of women seated a few rows back from where we were passing. A rather heavyset woman, wearing less clothing than my wife was earlier at the pool, made her way over and began hitting the man softly in his impeccable six pack abs. She also spit out a few unkind words to the targets of his affection. The crowd seems to love the act, knowing it was all in good fun.

  "It seems someone is in your seat," she said as we approach a couch, up front, just below the main stage. Scott and Robin were sharing one couch. A portly middle age man sat alone in the couch next to Robin.

  "No," I said. "Those are my dates."

  The usher gave me an inquisitive look.

  "Hey, don't judge me," I said with a smile.

  She laughed. "You really get this show, don't you?"

  I wanted to say this was my first time, but why tell the truth when a lie is so much more fun.

  "Yeah, we do."

  "Well here you go," she said. She left to find another patron to lead into this den of iniquity.

  Scott and Robin looked to have been sharing a ribald joke. She gave him a playful slap on the thigh. "You're evil," my wife said with a grin. She looked up at me. "Oh good, you're back. I was getting thirsty." Robin took her wine and Scott's whiskey from my hand.

  "I'm sorry, I'm in your seat." Scott said. He stood up after Robin passed him his drink.

  "I didn't know how you took your scotch," I said, "so I just had them add a little ice."

  I sat down on the couch next to my wife and took a sip of my drink. The soda did settle my stomach a bit, but I still felt a little queasy. Scott sat on the couch next to ours, near Robin and as far away from the lone sad man as possible. Robin leaned ov
er to say something to Scott and I felt a sick connection to that other man. I was here with two people, but I might as well have been alone. My stomach did another flip and I took another sip.

  "Scott, tell Peter that joke you just told me," Robin said, giggling. She must have sensed my unease and wanted to include me in their group.

  "Oh, I can't."

  "Come on, you can tell me," I said.

  "No, it's too crude."

  "Really? You can tell my wife but you can't tell me?" I was starting to get a little angry.

  "If you knew the joke, you'd understand why."

  "Tell me," I said. I was trying not to sound too anxious. I was curious and just a little mad they could share something like a dirty joke between them but couldn't include me.

  "No," Scott said firmly. "Robin, you tell it."

  My wife looked at me, then back to Scott, then back to me. She giggled again.

  The lights were beginning to dim. A beefy black man in tight white jeans who had been lazily lounging at a piano on stage began to play. A tall lanky white man, dressed in a black corset, fishnet stockings and top hat began to languidly parade around the stage. The show would be starting momentarily.

  I elbowed Robin in the ribs. "Tell me the joke," I said.

  She was watching the stage, but she turned to me. A wicked grin spread on her face. "Later," she said.

  I knew Robin was not going to relent at that point, but I needed something. "Promise?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I promise. Now hush, the show's starting."

  To say that Zumanity is an adult version of Cirque du Soleil is an understatement. It had all the various types of acrobatics you'd expect from other shows, but with a kinky twist. Each act representing a different aspect of human sexuality. In one two men were locked in a small square cage. They begin to fight; they ripped each other's clothes off. Fighting turns to wrestling and then somehow they're passionately kissing. Although I consider myself strictly heterosexual, I found it intriguingly erotic.

  In another act a fit black man and a blond white woman share a bathtub filled with what appeared to be milk. They were bathing topless.

  I could go on, but I would recommend you just see the show.

  Between the featured acts, there was a team of comedians who kept the audience entertained and aroused while the sets were changed.

  It was during one of these breaks that I tried to sneak away for a pee break. Big mistake. As soon as I stood up I caught the attention of a pair of mimes who were creating anatomically correct balloon animals. They pointed at me and from somewhere in the rafters above the stage a beam of light appeared, targeted on me. I was stunned for a moment. The mimes started to make crude gestures. One pretending to hold his dick and peeing, the other began to laugh and the audience joined in.

  I felt very embarrassed. I looked down at Robin. She couldn't help but giggle with the crowd. Scott wasn't laughing but he did shrug his shoulders. "I warned you," he said. I really didn't have many options. Getting mad was just childish. I could play along, but I didn't feel like it, so I just decided to ignore them.

  I moved toward the exit, hoping the spotlight wouldn't follow me. Well it did. I tried to move as quickly as I could. I zigged and zagged down the aisles but the light was glued on me. I'm sure the operator knew every possible path so I wasn't going to surprise them. When I was halfway to the exit the audience roared with laughter. I looked back and the mime who was simulating urination began to furiously jerk his fist up and down in front of his crouch.

  Fuck, I wasn't going to live this one down. My stomach did another flip, this one worse than before.

  I did finally make it to the bathroom to relieve myself. My stomach gurgled and I thought about trying to take a dump but I changed my mind. This show had to be close to over and I wanted to get back before the end.

  Despite being ignored by my wife for most of the evening and enduring painful cramps, I was having a good time. She seemed to be happy and I couldn't fault her for that. The show was excellent, like nothing I'd ever seen before. A show that was sexy as hell, yet able to cater to just about everyone's tastes. As long as you had a reasonably open mind.

  I did my business and headed back to my seat. I asked an usher for help. This time it was a young man. He had a perfect set of six-pack abs printed on his T-shirt. With no spotlight to guide the way he had to use his little flashlight. I thought I was going to get to my seat without any more embarrassment. Well, I was wrong.

  Two surprises greeted me as I arrived at the seat. One I should have expected. While I was gone Scott had switched seats with me. He and Robin were sitting very close and he had his arm around her shoulder while they watched a comic telling dirty jokes nearby. I could have made a scene and asked him to switch back but I decided not to. I could take the embarrassment, but I didn't want to drag Robin into it. Plus I didn't know what I would do if he refused.

  "That couple's in your seat sir," the usher said under his breath. "I'll ask them to move."

  "Don't bother," I whispered back. I took the seat Scott had vacated.

  "Enjoy the show," he said and walked away. That was when the second surprise happened. I thought I had made it back without being noticed. Again, I was wrong.

  The comedian came over, and brought the spotlight with him. "Did everything come out alright?" he asked.

  Ignoring him wasn't going to work. I decided to play along. I nodded my head.

  "You go number 1?" He raised his index finger, waived it in the air.

  Again I nodded. The audience laughed.

  "Number 2?" he made a V, the audience snickered.

  This time I shook my head.

  "Oh.. How about a number 3-4-5?"

  "Uh, I don't know what that is."

  "I can't hear you," he said. He pointed his microphone in my face.

  "I don't know what that is."

  "Oh, then I'll teach you. Follow my lead."

  I wasn't sure where this was going, but I was already into it so I played along. My stomach rumbled a little but I tried to ignore it. Maybe I should have stayed for a number 2.

  The comedian pointed his index finger up again. I did the same. "That's 1." He added his middle finger. "That's 2." I did the same. Then in quick succession he extended his ring finger, his pinky and his thumb. I followed suit. "That's 3-4-5"

  He then rolled his fingers into a fist and began to pretend to jack himself off. The audience laughed. I felt myself turn red. I was embarrassed but I wasn't really mad. I think I had moved beyond that. I kinda enjoyed being part of the show. The jester was pretending to wank his wiener. He seemed to be having a good time. He looked at me expectantly.

  I went in whole hog. I had put my hand down so I re-raised it. My first two fingers in a V. The comedian stopped his motioning and stood watching me, his arms folded across his chest. The audience quieted down. They wanted a show, so I was going to give them one. I slowly raised each other finger in turn, made a fist and began to simulate solo sex.

  The audience erupted in laughter. There was even some applause. I started fast, then slowed down like I was really enjoying it. I closed my eyes and made my O-face. More laughter and applause. The crowd was loving it. I was loving it. I felt I was part of the show. But I was loving it too much and the man paid to make the people laugh knew it.

  He deftly took back control.

  "What a sport," he said into the mic. "What's your name sir?" he pointed the mic my way.

  "Uh, Peter."

  "Had to think there for a minute, didn't you?" A little laughter from the audience. "Thanks for sharing your interlude with us Peter." He put his arm around me and addressed the audience. "Everyone give Peter here a little love." Applause filled the hall for moment.

  "So Peter, you here alone?"

  I looked down at Robin. I didn't like where this was going. I could answer yes and probably get away easy. I wasn't in the mood for easy.

  "No, I'm here with my wife."

  The comedian look
around. The only free seat was next to the lonely man. "Where is your wife, Peter?"

  I pointed down at Robin. Scott quickly pulled his arm from around her shoulder, but he wasn't fast enough. Everyone saw. There was a little nervous laughter from around the auditorium. Here was my wife in the arms of another man. The scenario fit the show like a glove. There were probably some who thought it was staged. Hell, I would have if I wasn't in the middle of it.

  The comedian was unfazed. He gave the audience a knowing look. "Well good luck with that, Peter." And with a toss of his head he moved on with the show, but not before getting off a few more jack off gestures.

  I sat down. Robin patted me on the back. "That was great Peter. I didn't know you could be so funny."

  I really wanted her to shut up. She meant well, but her words of encouragement weren't helping. All the alcohol was starting to hit, my stomach was tightening up and my wife was in the arms of another man. A little patronizing wasn't going to help.

  I didn't really catch much of the end of the show. I looked on, but didn't see. I think it ended with an orgy. All the performers on stage pretending to have sex. Some with one or more partners. Some alone. Some watched. There were a lot of performers so they were able to show many positions, missionary, doggie, and oral. There were a few that I didn't recognize. Some I would like to try with Robin.

  Overall I would say I loved the show and would like to see it again, but without an upset stomach and definitely without Scott.

  ***

  Later, in the gift shop, Scott asked us if we wanted to do anything else. Maybe get a late bite to eat, or maybe do a little gambling. Robin looked at me expectantly. I think she was still willing to follow my lead. Maybe she was impressed by my willingness to embarrass myself, or maybe she thought I deserved to make the decision because I put up with Scott.

  Either way I never found out. I was about to say I wanted to call it a night when I doubled over in pain. Something seemed to explode in my stomach. I needed to throw up and I didn't want to do it all over the nice expensive Cirque merchandise.