By Dmitriy Kogan
Me and Rob and a couple of our friends were renting a house on Seneca Lake for the weekend. We needed an escape from city life. I was not fond of fishing or hiking or most nature activities, but it was nice to sleep in a house near the lake instead of a one-bedroom apartment near the subway.
Rob had a new girlfriend, Marion, who was sunbathing on the deck when I stepped outside for a cigarette. The sun was just about to go down. Marion was in a two-piece polkadot bikini and sunglasses. I could see the shape of her cleavage. She was reading a book.
I lit my cigarette and looked up at the sky. She noticed me behind her and set down her novel.
“Are they starting to make the food?” she asked.
“Yeah, just about.”
She looked up at me. “Remind me again what you do in insurance?”
“I’m a claims adjuster.”
“Oh, yeah. You and Rob met at work, right?”
“Yeah. We were at the same company for a bit before I got canned.”
I doused my cigarette in the ashtray on the round table near Marion.
***
Rob, Marion, Bill, Gator and I sat at the table ready to eat the salmon we picked up at a nearby supermarket.
“How long have you been married, Bill?” asked Marion.
“Two years now,” said Bill.
“He didn’t bring his wife because she drives him crazy,” said Rob. “Married life will do that to you.”
Rob laughed. I felt like I needed another cigarette. Gator was silently munching his peas.
“And Gator, Rob told me you’re looking for acting work?” asked Marion. “That’s great. I always wanted to try acting.”
“Yeah, it’s hard,” said Gator. “I mostly do commercials, but you know how that fucks up your soul when you have an MFA in theater.”
“Why not do theater, then?” asked Marion.
“Because try telling your landlord that you do theater,” said Gator.
***
It was late. Gator and I were having a couple of beers on the deck. The stars were shining bright and Gator was pretty hammered.
“You think this one will last?” asked Gator.
“Rob’s new girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Who knows. He gets a new one every three months. Then when he’s sick of banging her, he switches to the next.”
“I was with this hooker in Vegas last month. Man, her tits were huge. I sucked on them for ten whole minutes.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Yeah, I need to get laid. I could use a hooker.”
“Come with me to Paris. I heard those French girls fuck like animals.”
***
I was still half-drunk when I stumbled into bed. I could hear Rob and Marion going at it. They sounded like they were in bed with me because their room was right next door to mine. I reached down to my crotch but couldn’t get it hard. Her moans sounded sweet, though. I heard Rob finish shortly before I fell asleep.
***
The next morning, Marion was making eggs in the kitchen.
“Sleep well?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “This house is lovely.”
Her ass was plump and I could see it through her nightgown. I still had some morning wood and I felt like brushing it up against her. Just then, Rob came downstairs, still in his underwear. He walked past me and smacked Marion on the ass. Then they began making out.
***
I stepped out onto the deck. Rob was in his chair, shirtless, smoking a cigarette and having a beer. I sat down next to him and asked him for a light.
“She has a nice ass, doesn’t she?” asked Rob.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Really nice.”
“I saw you checking her out. If you wanna fuck her, you can. I don’t mind.”
“What?”
“I’m practically done with her. We did it in every kind of position imaginable, and she’ll definitely remember me as one of her best.”
I shifted in my chair and took a drag on my cigarette.
“I mean, the thing is, this Latina secretary who I’m working with now? Holy crap. She’s married, but she’s got ass and tits for days. Marion’s ass, it’s a boulder. This Latina chick’s ass? It’s a mountain.”
“Did you already fuck her? The Latina, I mean.”
“You bet I did,” said Rob. “I don’t care if she’s married. With that ass? It’s worth the risk. There are too many women out there, man. Why settle down?”
I looked up at the sky and watched the clouds as they met each other, embraced, and then merged.
Dmitriy Kogan is a short story writer, poet, and essayist from Staten Island, New York. His work has appeared in The Beatnik Cowboy, The Rye Whiskey Review, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, and is forthcoming in Straylight Magazine and Some Words.