I was never into comic books as a kid, but my brother Steve worshiped the things. I mean, over the years he read them all — from old reprints of Detective Comics to the comic-book version of the Twisted Sister story. He tried to get me to appreciate the finer points of graphic novels and the subtly Greek tragedies of Batman and Spider-Man, but I wasn’t listening. I had the same experience with Jordan, whom I dated for three years, and who turned our shared apartment into an archive for his treasured Sandmans, Preachers, and Love and Rockets. No matter how many times he would chortle and exhort the virtues of comic books, I never bothered to read them. They just never grabbed me. Even a friend who did his master’s thesis on the homoerotic imagery in superhero comics couldn’t talk me in to liking them. I could appreciate Superman’s well-sculpted torso, sure, but I was always more of a sucker for skinny geek boys.
Enter Joel, the skinny geek boy, and his girlfriend Kerry, the buxom bad girl. I guess it took sex, wine and 1950s kitsch to make me really appreciate comic books.
Divisadero Comix is a mÃ©lange of pop culture, with a stunning collection of lunchboxes — from Superman to Star Trek: The Motion Picture — lining its walls above impressive bins of ancient, dusty comic books, and the shelf over the counter covered with a neat array of He Man dolls, Micronauts and G.I. Joes. Joel and Kerry, the couple who own the place and are its only employees, are both obsessed with the stuff. Well, I guess it’s mostly Joel, but Kerry can certainly appreciate a good Flaming Torch thermos or Fonzie belt buckle.
It really is quite impressive. There are potato guns ordered from the back of Fantastic Four comics long before Joel, Kerry or I were born. There are little metal robots from the ’50s — worth a thousand bucks apiece, Joel once told me — displayed under glass in the back of the store, and the window displays change weekly, drawing in a stream of tourists and comic book nuts. Joel and Kerry figure if they kept the place interesting enough, they can stay in business.
I guess it works, sort of. I mean, I did live upstairs from the place, but I never would have come down and bought all those comics if I hadn’t spotted the window display that featured Jabba the Hutt eating Barbie.
Then again, it wasn’t really Jabba the Hutt that kept me coming back. It was the fact that Joel and Kerry were the cutest couple I had ever seen in my life. I guess they were about what you’d expect — both twenty-somethings with tattoos and piercings, Joel with his long blonde hair streaked with purple and Kerry with hers dyed raven-black, Joel wearing mostly skintight shirts that showed off his slim physique and always — no matter what day of the week it was — wearing tight leather pants. And Kerry’s outfits were equally exciting, little plaid schoolgirl skirts and knee-high boots showing off fantastic legs sheathed with fishnets or spiderweb stockings.
And her tops. I mean, Kerry is cute, don’t get me wrong. But I sometimes have trouble looking her in the eye when I’m talking to her. I’m a slim girl, and I guess I’ve always been attracted to busty ones. If Joel, with his dark eyes, haunted smiles and skintight pants hadn’t kept me coming back for more, then Kerry, with her low-cut shirts and full lips, would have.
But it’s weird flirting with couples. You never know when or whether to make the move. For us, it finally boiled down to a pair of X-Ray Specs.
It was late on a summer Saturday; I’d spent the day in the park on my bicycle and after locking it in the lobby of my building, I’d stopped in at the comic shop for a visit before going up to my apartment. Exercising always makes me feel really aware of my body, and I was still wearing my workout clothes — tight sports bra, cycling shorts and tennis shoes. I was way too sweaty and exhausted to feel sexy, but something made me feel invigorated, too. I made a half-hearted loop through the stacks of comics, not really wanting to pick up anything new; I still hadn’t read the last pile Joel had talked me into. Kerry and I chatted as she counted out the register, and Joel fiddled around with a display of ’50s tchotchkes. They both looked particularly cute that evening, despite the long day they’d just put in.
I wandered over to Joel and smiled at him.
“What are those?” I asked, pointing to a pair of plastic glasses with weird-looking spirals on the lenses. “3-D glasses?”
Joel made an insulted sound. “My dear Sarah, these little gems of the mid-20th century are” — he put them on with a flourish — “X-Ray Specs.”
“You used to be able to buy them in the back of comic books,” said Joel, looking me up and down with a devilish smile on his face. “Still can, sometimes.”
“What do they do?” I asked.
He took a long, slow moment to lean over the counter, close to me, and look me up and down slowly once, then twice, then a third time.
He grinned at me. “They let you see through people’s clothes,” he said.
“Nuh-uh,” I said, grabbing for them.
He stepped back from the counter, out of my grasp. “Yes-huh,” he said, still staring at me. “And if you don’t mind my saying so, Sarah, that’s a very naughty tattoo.”
I instinctively felt my skin prickling. I stood up straight and tried to think of what to say. I giggled.
“You lie,” I said. “I don’t have any tattoos.”
“Oh yes you do,” said Joel, looking right at my crotch, where I sport one of my two tattoos. I felt my blood run cold, then hot in a weird rush of sensation. “And it’s a naughty one.”
The tattoo just above my pubic bone is a small, full-color one of a ’40s-style blonde bombshell — touching herself. I felt suddenly exposed, half of me believing that Joel really could see right through my tight bicycling shorts, could see the tattoo — could see my pussy. I knew it was bullshit, but I felt suddenly naked, strangely excited at the thought of Joel undressing me with his eyes. With that, I could feel my nipples hardening, and I became painfully aware that they were quite evident through the sports bra. Joel’s red-spiraled eyes lingered over them shamelessly. He licked his lips and smiled.
“You are so full of shit,” I said. “You lie, you lie, you lie,” I laughed. “You can’t see through my clothes.”
“Kerry,” said Joel. “Get over here.”
Kerry came over, and Joel slipped off the glasses and handed them to his girlfriend.
She put them on and gasped.
“Sarah, really! A blonde bombshell masturbating? You are more naughty than you let on. And you really should wear underwear with those shorts.”
It was silly, really. I knew they were joking with me, but for a moment I actually believed they were both looking at me, inspecting my naked body. I felt my nipples harden still more and felt a warm pulse go through my pussy. I had been flirting with Joel and Kerry for months, but I never really thought anything would happen — I mean, I didn’t even know if Kerry was bi.
“You guys are so full of it.”
“Then how did I know what your tattoo is?” smirked Kerry. “And you really aren’t wearing any underwear.”
“Cut the crap,” I giggled, turning and walking away from the counter. Kerry handed the X-Ray Specs back to Joel; he donned them and followed me with his eyes.
“Great ass, too,” he said. “That one’s cute, too. Who’s ‘Jordan?'”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I swallowed nervously. I was starting to really believe it — really believe they could see through my clothes.
My other tattoo, you see, is my ex-boyfriend’s name on a red heart — bright, red, on my ass. I got it only three months before Jordan and I broke up, but I decided to keep it — it kept things interesting whenever I got naked with people.
I don’t know what I thought. I guess part of me believed they could really see through my clothes.
I turned around. “Give me those,” I said, half smiling.
“No way,” said Joel. “You think I want you evaluating my genital piercings?”
“Tit for tat,” I said, coming toward the counter, leaning over and reaching for the glasses.
Joel, who’s six-four and skinny, swept the glasses off his face and put them on the top shelf with the line of Skeletor figures.
“Gimme!” I said bitterly.
Kerry sighed and came around the counter. “I’ve got a much more interesting way for you to evaluate his genital piercings,” she whispered, leaning close to me.
I froze, my eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I said, smiling.
“We’re almost done here,” said Kerry. “Why don’t you come upstairs for a drink, Sarah?”
I hesitated, not sure what to say.
Kerry put her arms around me and kissed me, softly, on the lips.
“I mean, we’ve already seen you naked,” she laughed.
I could feel my face flushing hot as she took me by the hand and led me back to the little door that led to their upstairs apartment.
Joel was right behind us. I glanced back and saw him pluck the glasses off their shelf and put them on, smiling and shaking his head as he looked at my ass. I suppressed a giggle, feeling his hot gaze on my body.
As we mounted the stairs, I could hardly believe I was doing this — I mean, they were adorable, hot and sexy, but I had never really thought anything would happen with them. And now here I was, after a long workout in the park, sweaty and still dressed in workout clothes, going up to have a drink with this couple that had just embarrassed the hell out of me.
Problem was, it had really turned me on.
I guess I’m a little bit of an exhibitionist. Just the idea of these two sexy flirts looking me over naked, discussing my body so casually, had excited me. The fact of the matter is, if they’d just up and asked me, I might have been too nervous to say yes. But after working me up like that, they had me at their mercy.
Kerry and Joel live in a single converted room above their comic book store. They’ve decorated it in the esteemed style of a late-1800s’ New Orleans bordello, complete with opium pipes hanging on the walls. The memorabilia was relegated to the shop; their apartment had more dignified and decadent adornments. The place smelled of incense, alcohol and the close scent of their bodies. Just smelling it excited me.
The only furniture in the small room was a low-slung velvet loveseat and a beanbag chair. I wondered where they slept.
I guessed I would probably get to find out.
“Red wine okay?” asked Joel as Kerry steered me toward the loveseat. “Or would you prefer Scotch?”
“Definitely Scotch,” I said, sinking into the soft velvet as Kerry and I leaned close on the sofa. She began toying gently with my short hair and then kissed me on the lips, this time opening her mouth slightly. My lips parted, too, and I felt the warmth of her tongue against mine. I put my arms around her and felt her body pressing hot against mine. My pulse quickened as her hands moved down my back, then around to my belly. She pulled up my sports bra and her mouth descended to my hard nipple, suckling it. I moaned and ran my fingers through her raven-black hair, feeling a surge of pleasure go from my nipples to my pussy. She caressed one breast with her hand while her tongue traced a path around my nipple and she bit down gently.
“Since we already know what you look like naked,” said Kerry, “you may as well take those clothes off…”
My heart was beating so fast I couldn’t have said no even if I’d wanted to. Kerry slipped my sports bra over my head while I kicked off my shoes, and then she peeled the sweaty spandex shorts off my lower body and ran her hands up my thigh as I sank naked into the velvet of the sofa, feeling it caress my body.
“It’s smaller than it looked through the glasses,” said Joel, squeezing onto the sofa next to me.
He handed me my Scotch, neat, and I took a quick drink before kissing him, tasting the red wine he’d sipped. His tongue was pierced. As we started to make out, Kerry’s mouth returned to my breasts and she kissed them all over, her hand wriggling its way between my thighs. Lost, naked between these two clothed lovers, I let her part my legs and felt her fingers caressing my pussy. I was incredibly wet.
“I really quite prefer you naked,” said Joel between deep kisses. “Especially these marvelous tits of yours.”
“Tit for tat,” I said.
I helped Joel and Kerry out of their clothes and the three of us twined together on the sofa. Kerry was as beautiful out of her clothes as she was in them. She had tattoos all over her body — intricate green ivy with flowers around her round hips, a dagger above her pussy, a Chinese character on her upper thigh. Joel was long and lean, muscled, as I’d suspected he would be — but I didn’t expect the long, smooth curve of his cock to be so beautiful, so inviting. They took turns kissing me while the other teased my breasts, kissed down my belly. Then came the moment when Kerry kissed further down, spread my thighs, and melded her mouth to my pussy.
I moaned. I reached out for Joel’s cock, grasping it, and leaned down so I could take it in my mouth.
Kerry’s skilled tongue worked its way between my slick lips, teasing my clit and making me want Joel’s cock even more. I swallowed it all, long and slim as it was, and I felt Kerry focusing on the rhythms of my body as my hips pumped up against her face. She rode me flawlessly, seeming to sense exactly what I needed to come — and then pushing me further. By the time I began to shudder as my climax approached quickly, my mouth had slipped off of Joel’s cock and I was gripping it with my hand, my lips parted wide in a moan of orgasm.
The two of them wrapped their arms around me, Kerry kissing me on the lips and letting me taste my own pussy. When I went back to sucking Joel’s cock, she joined me and we traded off, kissing between strokes up and down on its hard length. Joel moaned louder, his hips rising, his ass lifting off the sofa.
“All yours,” whispered Kerry, kissing me. “If you want it.”
I did. I closed my mouth around Joel’s cock and slid up and down, hungry for him. When his cock jerked and I felt the first stream in my mouth, I decided in that instant to swallow it all. I missed only a tiny drop as he pumped into me, and Kerry bent forward to lick that off of my chin.
Joel was still moaning as Kerry and I kissed deeply. I could taste my juices mingled with Joel’s come.
I spotted the glasses on the coffee table. I reached out and snatched them before either one of them could stop me — but this time, they didn’t try.
I put them on.
Both of them were a big fuzzy mess of weird lines and radiant images.
“Hey!” I said. “You can’t see through peoples’ clothes with this.” I laughed.
“It’s because we’re naked,” said Joel, his voice thick with post-orgasmic pleasure.
“Bullshit,” I said, waving my hand in front of the glasses and watching the vague shadows dance back and forth incomprehensibly. Tell me the truth. How did you know about the tattoos?”
Joel shot Kerry a look.
“Well,” said Kerry. “I guess it might have something to do with the fact that Jordan buys his comics here.”
“His lips get real loose about ex-girlfriend’s tattoos when you throw in a few free books,” said Kerry, her face reddening.
She smiled at me weakly. “Are you mad?”
I picked up my Scotch from the coffee table and lifted it to my face, inhaling its aroma, loving the way it mingled with the scent of sex.
“At Jordan, maybe,” I said, eyeing Kerry’s illuminated, skeletonized face. “At you two… no.”
I smiled and kissed her, feeling vaguely nauseous as the room swirled, distorted, around me.
“Good,” said Joel. “Because I put sea monkeys in your Scotch.”
“Keep it up,” I said. “There’s a potato gun with your name on it, buster.”
“Such a filthy mouth.”
I drank the Scotch.