This lovely story is dedicated to readers who know a good story when they read it. To readers who love M fiction. To readers who enjoy fun. This story is meant to celebrate excellent writers. Enjoy!
All or Nothing
"Tony, how could you?" Angela whimpered.
"I don't know," Tony whined, "she was young and cute, I guess."
"Are you saying I'm not young and cute?"
"Of course you are, Angela; Kathleen is just young...um, I mean, she's...I don't know what I mean."
"Obviously. So that's your choice, is it? Young and cute over rich, more experienced, volcanic babe? Fine, I can handle that; just remember, it's your own fault."
Angela sauntered out of the kitchen, her hips swaying provocatively. Tony watched her go and felt his masculinity leave the room with her.
The house turned into an igloo; the frost between Tony and Angie made it that way. They barely spoke to each other, and even then it was limited to, "'yes', 'no' and 'did you feed the cat?'" which was weird because they didn't have a cat. But weird was nothing new for these two.
Oh poor Tony, Angela had taken to wearing much shorter skirts. If he hadn't known better he'd swear Angela was taunting him. Too bad he didn't know better because she was taunting him. Her favorite bathrobe changed from pink terrycloth to black satin. Weekend mornings she'd wear it to breakfast and sip her coffee. She could even make that sexy.
Poor, poor Tony; committed to a woman who had little to nothing to offer him; while being constantly tormented by the hot babe who sauntered around her own house like she owned it.
"Tony," Angela demanded one Saturday morning as she lounged on the couch in her black satin bathrobe. Oops, one side of the robe had slipped on to the floor, leaving Angela's legs bare.
Tony took one look at her and felt his male prowess rearing its head.
Angela paid him no attention.
"You wanted something, boss?"
"Did I? I don't remember, oh well, it couldn't have been important."
Tony started to head to the garage to get away from her.
"Oh wait, I remember now. The coffee is cold, warm it up for me," she dripped seductively. She handed him the cup, daring him to take it from her hand. Oh, that wasn't all she wanted him to take.
Just as Tony found a way to grab the mug without embarrassing himself, the doorbell rang.
"Could you get that?"
"Of course," he answered.
He opened the door.
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaarling! You look mahvelous!" the very well dressed Latin lover at the door said.
"Fernando!" Angela answered, beckoning him to the couch.
Fernando entered...the house, carrying a rose for his hot babe.
Tony slammed the door.
Fernando paid him no attention. He salsa'd his way into the living room doing a dancy little two-step and held his hand out to Angela. "A rose, for moi?" She took the rose into her mouth as he led her in a tango through the living room.
Tony had to leap out of the way to avoid being knocked over by the dancing pair. Fernando and Angela crashed into the coffee table, lost their balance and landed on the couch, he on top of her.
"Daaaarling, what do we do next?" His smooth voice dripped with blatant seduction.
"We could do some horizontal dancing, but first I must ask the help to leave." Angela removed Fernando's tie and flung it through the air. It landed on Tony's head.
"Tony, leave us. My Latin lover and I want to be alone" she vamped.
"Angela, no! What are you doing? Not on the couch! I'll have to clean the "wet spot" afterwards. And I'm all out of baking soda." Tony was horrified.
"Well Tony, you'll have to be creative then. We're going to be creative now, aren't we lover?" Angela started nibbling on Fernando's ear while he pulled at the sash of her black satin robe.
"No, Angela. I won't let you!" Tony declared. "I'll get you a towel so you keep the couch clean. A housekeeper's job is never done!" He ran up the stairs to find an absorbent towel.
"Tony!" Angela called out to him while Fernando was licking her neck.
"What is it, Angela? Do you want me?" Tony came running back from the staircase.
"You forgot to heat up my cup. Of coffee, that is." She handed him the mug while Fernando had moved to sucking her toes.
"Heated up, Angela? Aren't you hot enough as it is?" Her robe was open and Fernando was dragging the rose along her body.
"Yes, I'm hot Tony. But my coffee is cold. And I'm naked now, so I'm feeling a bit of a draft", she moaned.
"I'll close the window Angela!" Tony hurried to the window and closed it, but not before one of Richard Wellington's snowballs hit him in the head, dislodging Fernando's tie.
Mona walked in from the kitchen. "Angela, you are my daughter after all! I thought they'd switched babies on me at the hospital. You don't look like me one bit and you're usually such a prude. Go baby, go!" Mona cheered her on.
Finally Fernando looked up at his audience. "People people, I know I teach salsa and tango but I don't teach couch dancing. Leave us! Or else I won't be able to perform." His male prowess was drooping under their scrutiny.
"Angela, I can always perform. Hey, I'm Italian!" Tony decided to come to the rescue.
"May I cut in?" He asked, as he shoved limp Fernando off of his hot babe.
"Tony, are you up for this?" Angela teased.
"You bet. I'm always up for the job. Angela, let's be daring and forget the towel."
