The Poison Dwarf

I still have no idea why I bought into the harebrained scheme. It probably had more to do with my "go long to get along" personality than an actual desire to get into Mia Carter's g-string.

Which is the reason the other three guys were interested in the proposition of joining Mia at her family's palatial cottage up in Muskoka that late August weekend before classes resumed a week later back in Toronto.

Rory practically begged me to go. He'd been my roommate at York U from the beginning and rightly or wrongly credited me for keeping him on the path of virtue and righteousness just well enough to make graduation a realistic proposition for the following spring. I dragged him out of bed after multi-day benders, poured coffee down his throat to sober him up for exams, had ghost-written a couple of critical papers on deadline and even bailed him out of jail that one time (and ensured his overanxious parents never found out).

For his part, Rory dragged me out of the library to attend parties and steered me at women I was too shy to approach and got me laid in spite of myself. Watching him in action, and often concluding that doing the exact opposite would lead to success, helped me develop some kind of game, a skill perilously few young men seem to have today.

Rory was impossibly good looking but just vacuous enough that a wingman such as myself could improve his odds in a crowded field such as the one we encountered that weekend at Mia's cottage. The other two guys -- Lorenzo, an Italian architecture student Mia had met earlier that summer at a party across the lake, and Baz, an Aussie bartender who worked at a York U pub -- shared the more rustic guest cottage with us down by the water.

"I feel like I'm on The Bachelorette," I grumbled as I got out of Rory's old Beemer. Rory giggled and popped the trunk to retrieve our duffles and backpacks.

"C'mon man, it'll be awesome!" he enthused. "You love waterskiing and I hear Mia's boat is sick."

"Yeah, this is all about watersports," I shot back. "Hope you're ready to take a cold shower."

I did not know Mia all that well, but as she came ambling down the hill from the big house, I could well understand Rory's attraction. She was strikingly tall and immediately improved the posture of all eligible males in her orbit. Long, curly blonde hair, Nordic cheek bones, a generous mouth bordered by luscious red lips, superb-toned legs, amazing breasts and a trunk that had men cumming as she was going.

"You made it!" she burbled before giving both of us full-boobage hugs. Rory wiggled his eyebrows as I watched him get his, and getting his was the main project of the weekend. The competition, such as it was, followed in her wake, and I was soon comparing handgrips with both of them -- Lorenzo's a little fey, Baz's with the kind of firmness you'd expect from a bloke who might need to escort a rowdy drunk off premises.

Based on this first encounter, I gave Rory the definite edge. His prospects seemed better than the bartender's, although I learned over the next couple of days that Baz aspired to start his own sailing school back home, while Rory's vocabulary was a little richer than Lorenzo's who had to depend on the shy charm of a man always hunting for the appropriate words, and grateful for any assistance Mia could render him.

Me? Just there for the country air and the pull of a strong boat. And moral support for my roomie.

Within minutes of arriving, I soon learned my talents as a wingman would prove to be invaluable. For once we got into the cottage, we encountered the unexpected seventh member of the party: the poison dwarf.

On our way up the hill, Mia warned us what to expect when we got inside. She gave her wicked stepmother that mean nickname and it became clear what the woman was doing there. She was the designated buzzkill for any antics her stepdaughter might be planning and we later learned this was the fallout from a party Mia staged at the cottage earlier that summer, leading to considerable property damage and complaints from equally well-heeled neighbours.

Mia's dad, a celebrated Bay Street lawyer and big wheel in the Conservative Party, thought a chaperone for any future weekend at the cottage would be the rule and in spite of incessant whining by his only daughter, bad actions came with dreary consequences.

So we met Constance. She, too, had luxuriant long hair, only hers was silver grey and she was a good foot shorter than her sullen stepdaughter. Hence the cruel handle. There were fewer curves too and I guessed she might weigh 95 pounds soaking wet. And after a short introductory chat I initiated, I learned she'd be drenched soon enough as she expressed interest in waterskiing which gave us at least that much in common from the get-go.

It was soon time for dinner which I took as my cue to divert our chaperone to the barbecue pit where I would regale her with cooking tips and techniques for grilling steaks to perfection, a talent I picked up from my dad albeit on a cheap portable tripod grill as opposed to the cottage's huge flaming masonry perhaps better suited to Old Testament burnt offerings.

Constance kept an eye on her randy stepdaughter while we cooked and chatted, smiling wryly as she could see her audience competing for attention. "What are you guys thinking about?" she chuckled. "Look at 'em!"

I checked out the action, and shrugged. "Ah, kids today."

"I have terrible news for all of you," she said as she flipped a thick juicy steak. "Mia is the biggest cocktease I've ever met, and I have seen quite a few in my time. You're all going home blue as this steak." Which was cooked to perfection for Lorenzo.

I caught her eye. "You don't say?"

"Oh I do. And I know what she thinks of me too." She shook my hand. "Meet the poison dwarf."

"You don't seem so poisonous to me," I assured her, although to make sure I placed an order for a very well-done steak.

"It doesn't matter," she said matter-of-factly as she unwrapped the mushrooms. "She crossed the line with that stupid party and she embarrassed the old man. You don't do that. He wanted to exile her to that school in Switzerland and I talked him out of it. Having me peeking over her shoulder is getting off easy."

She figured out pretty quick what I was doing there and could be trusted to keep my nose in a book on the deck and out of her stepdaughter's pussy. So we got on fine and put on a dandy opening dinner. The conversation was a mixed bag. Mia prattled on about her summer exploits, with that annoying tic of leavening the word "like" into every sentence at least two or three times. I caught Constance's eye and saw we shared our distaste for this overused filler word which is the plague of my generation.

In his tortured English Lorenzo told us about his weekend at George Clooney's spread on Lake Como the previous summer while Baz was more lyrical in describing the thrill of sailing through the Coral Sea while racing a storm to the mainland. The best Rory could offer was poorly executed jokes from a Bill Burr Netflix special he'd just seen.

Behind on points in the early going, Rory hoped to get back in the game at the impromptu dance Mia staged by the firepit beside the cottage. The fact that it was humid as hell and there was a ban on open flames in this neck of the woods didn't seem to faze the host. By now Constance had retired to the cottage deck overlooking the lawn, watching us intently while nursing a beer while taking in the increasingly drunk activity below. I stuck to my chair as Lorenzo demonstrated the new moves from the continent while Baz demonstrated tactical intelligence by waiting for slower numbers, enabling more skin contact with the host. Rory fell further behind by aping hip hop moves very poorly, clearly qualifying him for the Australian breakdancing team.

With a full agenda for the following day, we all parted company before midnight, hugs exchanged before the men staggered down the hill to our quarters while Mia repaired to the opulence and solitude of the big house. Before I could join the guys, I waved goodnight to Constance who surprised me by coming down to the firepit.

Before I could say anything, she pulled out a joint from her bikini bra. "C'mon," she said, and I followed her down to the beach at the edge of the property. There were a couple of chairs located there and she planted herself in one of them before sparking the spliff. She took a deep hit, rocked her head back and after a couple beats released an impressive stream of smoke above her head. She handed the joint to me, a hard act to follow.

She tapped the broad paddle arm of the chair and chuckled. "Here we are in the middle of Canada's exclusive Muskoka lake country, and what does hubs do? He bought a bunch of Adirondack chairs," she said while she patiently waited for her next hit.

"These aren't Muskoka chairs?" I grunted as I released my lungful.

She shook her head as she took her draw. I was impressed that she could easily carry on a conversation with her lungs fully loaded with ganja smoke.

"There's a difference in how much the back of the chair curves," she breathlessly explained. "The Muskoka is more curved, these are flat. Adirondack chairs are also a little steeper so you feel more reclined in them."

As I absorbed that bit of trivia, and took my next hit, there was more. "And, being American, they're also bigger by a few inches. Which, if you've got a big ass like Mia's dad, is kinda important."

I gasped out my hit and shared a laugh with her. I'd seen pictures in the cottage -- her "hubs" was some kind of bear. For some reason I imagined Constance squished under him in bed, and for another reason she could tell I was pondering that naughty calculus.

"So you know how Mrs. Schwarzenegger feels?" I ventured cheekily.

"Less and less these days," she confessed. I didn't know what to do with that so we just finished sharing the joint together in silence. It would appear that no one nowhere was getting any.

It was pushing 1 a. m. and it was still stinking hot. I was pleasantly buzzed and started looking longingly at the still waters of the lake. I debated wading in to cool off a little before retiring for the night.

"We should go for a swim," she said dreamily.

I looked over at the smiling woman in the facing Adirondack chair, her skin as wet and shimmering as my own in the pale moonlight.

"I was... thinking about a dip myself," I said. "I can go get my trunks."

Constance stood up and chuckled. "You're up at the cottage, my friend. We skinny dip here."

And with that she quickly shucked her bra and loose shorts and tugged down her thong. Thanks to the narcotics, I was a little slow on the uptake so I made it a little weird when instead of promptly joining the party and dropping trou, I took the time to drink in the view.

"What's the matter? Never seen an old lady starkers before?"

I scoffed at the notion. "You're no old lady." Giving lie to the number on her driver's license, I saw a compact, taut woman with small perky breasts yet to fully surrender to the pull of gravity, and a lovely muscular ass.

I gamely got to my feet and she soon had to help me up when I took a spill getting out of my shorts. We were both in hysterics by the time we got to the drink and were soon treading water face to face in silence, our laughter replaced by the calls of loons of a different species.

"This is so nice," I said.

She nodded. "It's great to get away from the city. And all we leave behind there."

I threw some things out for instance. "Noise. Congestion. Pollution."

"My husband."

She'd returned to an earlier revelation. And as I waited patiently, she went on.

"You see, Mia thinks the reason I'm here is to get in the way of her idea of having a good time," she said quietly. "The real reason I'm here is to give him the opportunity to indulge his."

"Oh, I see," I said, but she could tell I didn't.

She sighed. "He's got a new assistant, rockin' body, just a little older than Mia, big big tits. You wouldn't know to look at me that he was into monster jugs, but there she is. I guess your taste can change over time. A lot does."

I was spellbound and beginning to wonder where this was going, still slow on the uptake even up to my neck in cold water.

"It's also no surprise that he could be had by a conniving and ambitious skirt in the office. That's how I got him in the first place, and it's entirely the reason Mia has no use for me. Who can blame her? She's probably cheering on the next one."

Constance looked like she was about to cry. I suppose I should have said something sympathetic and politely departed. But this was somebody who needed a hug so I gathered her in and felt her body against mine. As I did I could feel my temperature beginning to rise again.

"We should go in," she whispered and we swam back to the beach. I looked warily at the cottage and the guest house, wondering what the others would make of the two of us exiting the water naked. But everybody was so pissed up from the party by the fire that we remained unobserved.

We stood there for a moment, dripping and shivering a little. "Please don't tell anybody," she said in a low voice, but she could tell her secret was safe.

"Just two friends taking a dip," I smiled. "No big thing."

She pulled my head down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she said with gratitude, before quickly pulling on her clothes and returning to the cottage. I watched her go and sank back in the Adirondack chair before quickly falling asleep thanks to its roomier and steeper reclining design.

I woke up with the sun creeping over the trees and got back to the guest house shortly before the guys awoke hungover and sore. Except Lorenzo who seemed to pity the others for their unmanly weakness with alcohol. That's how he managed to get the coveted seat next to Mia at breakfast while I assisted Constance with the food prep.

Unlike the last time I saw her, she seemed peppy (and fully clothed) so I saw no need to ask after her well-being. Soon after we were all out on the lake waterskiing, with Baz expertly taking the wheel and Constance putting people more than half her age to shame with her killer skills. There was a moment of great excitement when Mia took a wicked fall and Rory tried to play hero by dramatically diving in to rescue her, only to suck in a lung full of lake water and required assistance himself from a bemused Lorenzo. If anybody was scoring at home, Rory would be in last place well behind even me and I was just trying to mind my own business.

When Constance took her next turn, she put on a clinic out there which inspired a stream of catty comments from Mia, her dislike for the woman somehow emerging through the vast surplus of "likes". When I suggested Constance was an inspiration, Mia crowed that I appeared to have a thing for MILFs. That got yucks from Baz and Rory.

Lorenzo turned to me quizzically. "What is MILF?" he asked.

"It stands for Mia's Insults Lack Finesse," I said into his waiting ear with the engine roaring, which got a shrug from Lorenzo as he continued to enjoy the show.

After lunch Mia announced she wanted to go into town for the street festival. So it was back on the boat except for Constance who figured her mission ended at the property line. I manufactured a sore shoulder from one of my falls and told everybody to have a good time -- I'd had all I could stomach from the spoiled rich kid. Mia scarcely seemed to notice my absence with the surplus of attention splashing about her from the others as the boat roared off into the distance.

Alone at last, Constance went back inside to busy herself with cleanup while I brought my book to the deck and cracked open my read in the shade, drink at my elbow. Just the kind of thing I'd hoped there'd be time for on Rory's voyage of abject failure.

I actually read a chapter or two before I looked through the huge dining room window to see Constance looking back at me, next to a pile of dishes at the sink. I felt a little awkward sitting around doing nothing while she was picking up after her unappreciative guests, so I went inside and grabbed a drying cloth and went to work.

It didn't take long before the small talk and proximity warmed the room by a few degrees. I had no idea where this was going, if anywhere, but before I knew it, things got quiet, she took her hands from the soapsuds and I stopped trying to rub the pattern off the plate I was working on. I stepped behind her until I could inhale the sweet scent of her shampoo. Her breathing became ragged and she slowly backed into me.

"What are we doing?" she breathed.

"I was hoping you'd know," I replied, as I held her shoulders and I leaned down for the first kiss. Our lips touched tentatively at first before our lips opened and our mouths sealed, our tongues touching.

My hands drifted downward to her bikini bottoms and soon they slipped to her ankles. She arched forward as my right hand glided down her ass cheek and into her warm, wet, willing and waiting pussy. Our eyes met and she nodded. My cock slid into her snatch, so tight and inviting. She whimpered as I plunged in, deeper and deeper, her hands and arms spilling back into the sink, bubbles exploding across the counter and onto the floor in our passion. She cried out as I fucked her with growing urgency, fearing an unexpected early return but not really doubting that Mia would have her drooling fanboys doing something stupid and self-serving way over on the other side of the lake while her stepmom and I were taking care of actual business.

"I'm cumming," I announced breathlessly but before I could withdraw she tightened her cunt and begged me to stay inside her. So I did and growled as I exploded and she continued working my still rock-hard member until she extracted her own relief, something I'd never seen before in my brief and somewhat unspectacular sexual history.

As we uncoupled she looked at me with urgency, again worried that I'd broadcast the news at the earliest possible opportunity. And again I had to assure her that what happened in the lake, and now by the kitchen sink, stayed there. She hurried off to the shower and as I was uninvited, I returned to the deck and pretended to pick up where I left off with the book.

We apparently missed a great time in town and when the boatload of party animals finally returned to the cottage after sunset, striking the dock hard and expensively in case we missed their approach, Constance and I listened to their stories with feigned interest. Rory had somehow returned with a black eye and didn't want to talk about it. But he assured me that no manner of wingmanship could have rescued his weekend.

Everybody had a nightcap on the dock before one by one they said their good nights and went to their bunks. Rory was first to go, then Lorenzo and then Constance and I got the vibe that maybe we should bugger off to because there was apparently something going on between Mia and Baz. Or maybe his cock just needed a little more teasing. We took the hint and wandered off in different directions, Constance pretending to give her charge the hairy eyeball and unspoken commands that there be no monkey business.

There would be, in fact, none. About ten minutes after I crawled into bed, I could hear the door to the guest house open and could smell the defeat from there. Unless Mia was plotting a nooner, it appeared the only dude getting lucky this weekend would be me -- and nobody would know. I chuckled at the thought and tried to go to sleep.

Morpheus didn't come for me or, apparently, Constance.

I got the text around 1: You awake?

Just to be annoying I replied: That U Mia?

Ha ha

Me: Of course I can't sleep.

Constance: Neither can I.

Before I could suggest sexting, she had a better idea: Meet me at the chairs on the beach.

Me: I'm beginning to think they're actually Muskoka chairs after all.

Whatever asshole. Get there now.

Yes ma'am.

I slipped away and hurried down the beach, heart beating in my ears. I saw Constance sneak out the side door of the cottage and hustle down to meet me. In seconds we were in each other's arms and before I could worry about the likelihood of being caught out in the open, she ordered me out of my clothes and into the lake. I followed her as she swam out to a floating platform offshore from a neighbour's cottage and we positioned ourselves off the far side of it, under a kiddy slide, holding onto the edge of the dock as we kissed furiously.

In moments I was inside of her again, fearing I'd be putting splinters into her back and rump as I pumped away. Before I could cum she wriggled free then, taking a deep breath, she descended to my smoking cock and finished me off in her mouth. I was very impressed -- she was an athlete on, in and under water. I then lifted her out of the lake onto the platform and, still concealed by the slide, I spread her legs and went down on her. She covered her mouth with her hand as she came. She slipped back into the water next to me and we kissed some more. We slipped under the dock and surfaced below it.

"I have to see you again," she said as finally pulled away.

"Absolutely," I agreed. "But all this secrecy stuff..."

She kissed me again, hard. Like punctuation. "... is necessary."

"Why? Do you even love this guy?"

She shook her head. "No. But there's a pre-nup. And in case you're ever wondering how good you are as a lover, know that this little tryst could cost me somewhere in the seven figures."

I would have whistled if my mouth didn't keep slipping underwater.

Constance smiled and held my head in her hands. "I'm going in now. I'm going to have to leave you with the deck spiders. Wait a few minutes. But I will call you back in town. Soon."

She kissed me again and then disappeared underwater.

While I waited a suitable length of time, I saw an actual deck spider. A big hairy one looking back at me. "Well," I asked him. "What would you do?"

I nearly got away with it. And I sorta did.

I crept back into the guest house and almost got safely back to my room when Rory poked his head out his door. "Hey, where you been? I banged on your door an hour ago for aspirins and you were gone."

Before I could concoct a semi-convincing lie about taking a naked moonlight swim all by myself, the other two guys were in the hall wondering about all the commotion.

"What's going on, mate?" Baz yawned.

"You're not gonna believe this, but my roomie got it on with Mia!" Rory blurted.

"What? No!" I stammered. But I couldn't think of a better reason to be sneaking in soaking wet at 2 in the morning.

Baz shook his head and gave me a punch in the shoulder that left a mark for six months. "You son of a bitch, lurking in the weeds like a crocodile, pretending you don't give a sweet shit about her. Genius!"

Lorenzo watched the proceedings with interest. "Women are like wild horses," he said finally. "To win their confidence you must make them feel safe, pursue them without pursuing them."

That was horseshit but I didn't have an answer for that either. He bowed to me and then returned to bed. Baz chuckled and before he could bruise me on the other shoulder, I beat a retreat and returned to my room. Leaving Rory muttering to himself until he, too, went back to bed with his still-unexplained black eye.

Proceedings were a good deal quieter Sunday morning. Baz and Lorenzo remembered compelling reasons to get back to town early to avoid traffic while Rory and I stuck around until after lunch. Mia seemed more engrossed with her smartphone, already planning future parties and other acts of mischief that would inevitably land her in trouble.

Rory and I would be miles away by then. I kept looking for Constance but she stayed scarce until the car was loaded and we were ready to go. She suddenly appeared and shook our hands, saying she was pleased to meet us while betraying nothing special when she took mine. Mia mumbled something about doing it again sometime but was gone before we got in the Beemer.

As we pulled away, I looked over my shoulder and saw Constance waving back and knew there was more to come. Rory stole a quick glance in the rear view and shook his head.

"Y'know, I think I missed a bet there," he said as we got back on the highway.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "The cougar! I was so blinded by the sweet young thing I overlooked the hot stepmom. You saw her body out there -- she was practically begging me! Another missed opportunity!"

"Yup," I said as I slid down the seat to catch up on my sleep. "What the hell were you thinking?"

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