Foreign Affairs -- part III of the Anna Trilogy

by Jack Handee

This is part III of a trilogy featuring the erotic exploits of Anna, a young woman on a quest of sexual discovery that begins with an affair with her boyfriend's father. I've chosen to post the trilogy as three individual stories, as I've noticed "connecting" them causes people to miss subsequent chapters. While the installments could stand alone, I'd suggest reading Parts 1 and 2 before proceeding, as the story will be much more satisfying. If you have problems accessing previous installments, do a ‘Google' for ‘Jack Handee' and that should lead you to where you want to go.
Enjoy, and many thanks to everyone who has supported my stories thus far. Without you, the writing would have dried up a long time ago.
~Jack
~:~~:~
I arrived into Denver on schedule and not a minute too soon. The coach flight was packed and I'd been seated next to an overweight traveling salesman wearing a wrinkled plaid sport coat and giving off a lingering stench of sweat and Old Spice after-shave. When he wasn't staring lecherously at my short skirt, he was squashing me against the window with his walrus-sized-frame as he bellowed on with story after story about his traveling business conquests, one big yawn after another.
The plane landed and my best friend Alijia was waiting at the airport gate anxious to get the party rolling. I hadn't seen her in over a year, yet she still looked the same. Maybe better. She was the only person I knew that could take a hippie look and make it fashionable without even trying. She was wearing a knee-length, flowing cotton dress that was loose, yet voluptuously attached to all the right curves. Her brunette hair was longer than I remembered with a perm that framed her sculpted features and, as usual, she wasn't wearing a hint of make-up. With a complexion like hers, she didn't need it. She probably could have been a model if she wanted to, but wouldn't be caught dead in a designer anything. I envied her in that regard, in that she always seemed untouched by everything around her. Alijia was her own person and nobody else's.
The first thing she flashed me--outside of her straight white teeth--was a fake id she'd made for me using a picture pilfered from our high school yearbook. I barely looked old enough to drink now and sure didn't look old enough in the picture she'd stolen, but she assured me it would work like a charm. She was right. The first two clubs we visited took it without a flinch.
Despite all of Alijia's preparations and her contagious enthusiasm I really wasn't in the partying mood, but didn't have the heart to tell her. Granted this was supposed to be my get away vacation, the opportunity to leave behind everything in Minnesota and start over, and a wild night out seemed like just the trick to get things moving in the right direction. Unfortunately it wasn't working. There was still too much on my mind. The breakup with Trevor seemed like ancient history, but now I couldn't stop thinking about Jim.
We milled around the first couple of clubs, did some dancing, then eventually dropped the car off at Alijia's father's cabin and took a taxi to the final stop of the evening; the definite 'in' place to party whenever in Denver. We arrived and the owner greeted Alijia like a long lost friend. He escorted us around as she introduced me to more people than I could ever remember before we settled down in a semi-secluded corner of the club where she and her friends worked on the next layer of their buzz. I strategically took the end-spot at the table with a hope of remaining invisible until it was time to return to the cabin.
"Anna!" a voice shouted suddenly.
I jumped and turned around to see everybody at the table staring at me. So much for invisibility.
"You want anything else?" the waitress said, nodding to my empty wineglass.
"No, I think I'm okay."
"You've been pretty quiet all night," the guy across the table asked. "You having fun?"
He wasn't bad looking, but seemed a tad too aware of his beauty for my tastes. One of those chiseled jaw types that thought he should have a role on one of those weekly teen soap operas.
"Yeah, I'm having fun," I lied. "It's just been a long couple of weeks and I'm still feeling the jet lag."
"So, you wanna dance?"
"No, I'm kind of danced out, but thanks."
He reached across the table and took my hand, rubbing my ring finger. "No husband . . . does that mean no boyfriend either?"
I pulled my hand back and tucked it under the table.
Alijia's eyes were on me as she listened in on our conversation. "She used to have one," she interjected. "They just broke up. I don't think I know you," she added, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm Alijia."
"Todd . . . and you?" he said, his eyes returning to me.
"Anna," I responded, trying to sound as disinterested as I felt.
"So you're going to college in Denver?"
It was clear he had already forgotten his introduction with Alijia. That was a shame, as he probably stood a better chance with her than he did with me. She was more into the pretty-boys than I was. I stared at the crowd and pretended not to hear him, hoping he would get the hint.
"So, are you always so stuck up?" he added when I didn't respond.
Now he was starting to piss me off. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, that got a reaction. You know you'd have a lot more fun if you'd loosen up a little. Get out on the dance floor. Have a few drinks. The best way to forget about an ex-boyfriend is to meet somebody new. Don't you think, Annie?"
"It's Anna, not Annie." I turned to Alijia. "I'm outta here. I'll be back later."
"Where ya going?" Todd asked.
"I changed my mind about that wine."
I started to squeeze past him and he reached for my hand. I pulled back and he squeezed harder, staring up at me, his eyes like steel. I didn't like his expression and I liked even less the feeling of his skin touching mine. "You want to let go of my hand, jerk?" I asked.
Everybody at the table sensed the tension and turned towards us. He squeezed a little harder, his eyes roaming down to my short skirt. "Well . . . if you change your mind, Annie . . . check back with me later. Who knows, I might still be interested."
"Do me a favor, Toad . . . hold your breath while you wait."
I yanked my hand from his and started for the bar. It was dopes like Todd that reinforced my sudden interest in older men like Jim. I'd read all the statistics about how men mature at a slower rate than women, but I was beginning to think it was something like dog years where it took them seven to our one.
I wasn't really interested in more drinking as much as being alone and figured I'd find a secluded place where I wouldn't have to deal with jerks hitting on me. But that wasn't going to be easy. Just like the coach flight coming over, the lodge was packed with wall-to-wall people, most of which had poured onto the dance floor. I maneuvered as best I could and paused to wait for some drunk to finish his impromptu demonstration of the Macarana, even though that wasn't the tune that was playing.
I waited and noticed two guys sitting at a table off to the side. I wasn't sure why they had caught my attention, beyond their distinctive look. It was a difference I couldn't easily describe, but something definitely unique. I guessed them to be in their early twenties, both with dark hair that was cut conservatively short. Kind of cute, with masculine features that weren't anything like the refined pretty-boy looks of Toad the 90210 wannabe. Actually, it was their unrefined image that I liked best.
One of them must have felt me watching, as he glanced in my direction, pausing from his conversation. His friend followed and we stared at one another for what felt like a minute. One of them toasted me with a beer and I smiled, then turned away before they could see me blush. I settled for an open spot near the bar and placed my order for another white wine. I waited and watched the crowd, glancing nonchalantly back to the table with the two cuties. They were still staring directly at me.
"Three dollars, please."
I turned to find the waiting bartender, his hands pressed palm down on the bar. I handed him a ten and he disappeared, then returned, apologizing for giving me most of my change in quarters. I was hesitant to turn around for fear that the guys at that table would catch me looking again. I turned in the opposite direction and noticed a bank of pay telephones near the hallway that led to the ladies' bathroom. I squeezed the silver in my hand and had a wild idea. I wondered what Jim was doing? I wondered what he was doing at that very moment? Had he gone out for the evening or stayed in? He was probably reading. He was always reading. I smiled, wondering if he might be reading the story that Jack Handee had written about us? I wondered if he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? I grabbed my wine and inched along the wall and into the hallway, leaning down to read the small card that gave directions on various calling options.
"Why am I doing this?" I muttered out loud. I put the wineglass on the counter, grabbed the receiver, and started dialing.
"How can I help you?" the female operator's voice asked.
"I was wondering . . . how much would it cost to make a long distance call from this phone?"
"What number would you like to dial?"
"771 555 8139"
"One moment please . . . two dollars and fifty cents for the first five minutes, then twenty five cents a minute after that. It's much cheaper if you use a calling card."
I stared at the pile of quarters in my hand. "I don't have one . . . can I use cash?"
"Certainly. Just deposit your change into the phone and I'll connect you."
I deposited what I had, figuring it was good for about ten minutes, which was all I was really after. I just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe then I could stop thinking about him, at least enough to enjoy my trip.
"Connecting you to 771 555 8139" she said as the phone began to ring.
I waited with guilty anticipation and my heart thumped when I heard the receiver being lifted on the other end.
"Hello?"
A woman? That was odd. I first thought the operator had made a mistake in dialing, but I'd just heard her repeat the number. My voice clinched.
"Hello?" she repeated followed by a familiar deep voice in the background. "I don't know," the woman said. "I can hear a crowd in the background, but they're not saying anything."
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was about to hang up when I heard Jim come on the line.
"Hello?" he said, an irritated edge to his voice. "Is anybody there?"
"Jim . . . it's Anna."
The line was silent before he returned with a whisper. "Anna? Where are you?"
"I'm in Denver. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I was just thinking about you and sort of wanted to say hi . . .."
"Hold on."
His words became muffled like he was covering the phone, then after a minute I heard the extension in the study being lifted. "I've got it!" he yelled before returning to the line. "You there?"
My hand was almost shaking. "Did I call at a bad time?"
"No . . . well, I've got company, but that's alright. Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," I said. He had a date. I had interrupted a date! This was crazy. I was feeling jealous that he had a date and just days before I was convinced that I didn't have any romantic feelings for him. "Well, if you've got company I'll let you go," I said quickly. "She doesn't want to be waiting while you talk to me."
"I told her it was a call about work and that I needed to take it. It's not a problem. So . . . how was your trip?"
"Who is she, Jim?" I asked, bypassing the small talk.
The line was quiet. "She's just a friend, Anna."
"A girlfriend?" I asked, trying hard to remain calm.
"No, a lady friend. Somebody I spend time with occasionally, that's all."
"Well, I'll just let you go."
"Anna, just slow down a second, will you?"
"Slow down! What's that supposed to mean? You didn't tell me about a girlfriend, Jim?"
"She's not my girlfriend, Anna. She's just a lady friend and I didn't tell you because you didn't ask. It's not like I lied to you."
"No, it's not like you lied to me, Jim, but it's sure convenient that you left out a few key facts before you slept with me!" I swallowed hard and tried to hold back the tears that I felt pushing forward.
"Anna . . .."
"Are you sleeping with her too, Jim?"
"Anna, I'm not getting into this. Do I need to remind you it was you that wanted to go to Denver, that it was me that wanted to see you again?"
"And it was YOU that gave me the big speech about how complicated the difference in our ages made things!" My voice started to crack. I knew I was being irrational, but I didn't care. "It doesn't matter. It wasn't meant to be . . .."
He was silent again. "Anna, are you saying you had a genuine interest in me, because that wasn't my impression? You know I wanted to see you again."
He had me on that one. During the last afternoon we shared I was sure our relationship was only physical, which did nothing to explain the piercing emptiness I was feeling now.
"Continue seeing me?" I said. "Me, and her, and how many others?"
"Anna, you know how I feel about you. I told you when you were here. Come back right now and I'll never see Elaine again. I'll call it off tonight."
The cold tears were running down my cheeks and I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. "I have to go," I said, digging through my purse for a tissue.
"Anna . . . just wait a minute, would you?"
"I don't have a minute, Jim. Our time is almost up."
"Don't say that."
"I only had enough change for a short phone call."
"Give me your number and I'll call you back."
I took a deep breath. "It's okay. I'll call you when I get back to Minnesota."
"Anna!"
"Good bye, Jim."
I returned the receiver to the wall and tried to compose myself. I felt more confusion than I'd ever felt in my life. Part of me felt closure and yet another part felt betrayed. But truthfully, Jim hadn't betrayed me any more than I had betrayed Trevor. After all, I had slept with his father, rationalizing it all to the rush associated with being a part of Jim's fantasy and the way he'd made me feel physically. I just wanted to wake up and discover that this had all been a bad dream. Todd the jerk was right when he said the best way to forget about Jim was to meet somebody else. I slammed back the wine and retreated to the ladies room to touch up my makeup, then back to the bar for another drink.
The band took a break and the dance floor started to empty out. I took my glass and headed for the table, hoping that Todd wouldn't be there, but resigning myself that he was better than being alone. As I turned around, I spotted the unique looking guys from earlier, leading to a double take when I saw Alija standing at their table. The cute one noticed me and they all turned in my direction. Alijia grinned and waved me over.
"Going back to the table," I mouthed, motioning with my glass.
She became more animated, frantically waving her arm in a signal for me to join them. Actually, it seemed like a reasonable solution to my problem. They had to be better than my other options.
"What's up?" I asked, stepping up to their table.
"Guys, this is Anna. Anna, this is Francois and Phillippe." She leaned into me and whispered, "They're cute aren't they?"
Both smiled, but didn't say anything.
"It's nice to meet you," I said, still wondering how Alijia knew them.
One reached out to shake my hand. When I responded he kissed the back of my fingers. A bit dramatic for a bar, but mildly charming all the same. It got even better when the other guy followed.
"Whoa, I don't think I've ever had a greeting quite like that," I said.
They both smiled broadly, but again said nothing. Interesting. Cute, but obviously not the greatest of conversationalists.
"So, are you guys just visiting, or do you live here?" I asked.
Again, big toothy grins and a couple of nods, but no words. The developing silence felt almost unbearable. I leaned in and whispered to Alijia. "It's obvious they're French . . . do they speak English?"
"Okay, I'll ask them," she said, giving me a wink.
"Ask them? You mean you don't already know?"
Alijia leaned in and whispered something into the one guy's ear. He smiled and seemed to get embarrassed, before whispering back to Alijia. She nodded adamantly, then looked at me.
"What did you say to him?" This secrecy was getting more than a little annoying.
Before I could ask any more questions Francois--not the cutest one, but still not bad looking--slid off his stool and moved towards me. I watched him approach until he was only a foot or so away. Gently he took my wineglass and rested it on the table.
"Uh, what are you doing?" I asked nervously.
I looked to Alijia for support, but all I saw was a mischievous grin. I turned back and Francois leaned into me with a smile. At first I wasn't sure what was happening, but within seconds it was clear; he was trying to kiss me.
I glanced again to Alijia who was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction. Normally I wouldn't have let this go further, but the wine I was drinking seemed to slow down every element of time and space, including my ability to react. Closer Francois leaned until I felt his lips brush across mine. My head was spinning and I was losing my breath. A vision of Jim with what's-her-name flashed through my mind. He sure wasn't thinking of me before I called. Why was I thinking of him now?
I leaned back slightly. Francois paused and watched me, the corners of his mouth arching into a curious grin as he waited to see what I would do next. I glanced to Alijia, watching on in obvious astonishment. For the first time that night I felt like I was the one in control.
"What the fuck, Alijia?" I said with a grin.
I put my hand on the back of Francois's neck and pulled his mouth into mine. He wasn't reluctant and seemed completely comfortable with kissing a stranger. We moved playfully for a moment as the hoots and hollers from Alijia's friends became louder. It was only seconds before I felt his tongue pressing between my lips. I opened my mouth and met him as we sank into a long, wet kiss that I never imagined having with somebody I had only met. It seemed to go on for minutes with him eventually moving into me, gently rubbing his hand down my ribs.
Things were getting a little too heated between us and I pulled away. We stood back from one another, both laughing and trying to contain our awkward excitement. He grinned and wiped the saliva from his lip.
I glanced down and spotted the obvious outline of his arousal pressing against his jeans.
Alijia was as red as I'd ever seen her, running over and hugging me. "I can't believe that!" she screamed in laughter. "I didn't think you'd go through with it."
"What did you say to him?" I looked at Francois, who was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Did she put you up to this?" I asked.
Again, he smiled, but said nothing. Alijia stepped between us.
"Look, I need to come clean," she said. "Francois and Phillippe are friends of mine over here on foreign exchange from France. I've helped them get settled, shown them the night spots."
Suddenly it all made sense. Alijia spoke fluent French. I looked in the guys' direction to confirm my suspicions. "English?" I said slowly. "Do you speak English?"
"English," he repeated from behind a thick accent. "Hmmmm . . . lit-tle bit," he said, making a supporting tiny gesture with his fingertips. "Not much."
Alijia stepped between us, laughing so hard that she was having problems breathing. After a few seconds she composed herself. "I was talking to them and they told me you were flirting with them earlier and they wanted to know your name."
"I wouldn't call it flirting," I said, thinking back to when we exchanged smiles across the dance floor.
"Yeah . . . right. I told them you wanted to know what it was like to get a French kiss from a Frenchman. To see if it was different than an American."
"Alijia, I swear I'm going to kill you."
She laughed even harder. "Oh, like you didn't enjoy it?"
~:~~:~
We invited the guys back to where we were sitting. I was happy to see that Toad had disappeared along with a couple of others, making enough room for us to rejoin the table and the conversation. I ended up on the side closest to the wall with Francois to my left and Phillippe to my right. A rather charming spot to be in if I had to pick.
I've never been a big drinker and wasn't totally sure what to expect from the wine I'd been consuming, but I liked the buzz I was feeling. It served as a distraction from everything that had happened, including the conversation with Jim. I felt more comfortable, more energetic, and even more sociable than I had earlier in the evening.
It was immediately obvious that Francois was the more outgoing of the two guys. While his English was indeed limited, he did his best to participate in the conversation. Phillippe, in contrast, stayed to himself. He seemed more reserved from the beginning, silently watching the crowd and sipping his beer. Possibly his English was weaker than his friend's was or maybe he felt like I did earlier and was wishing he could call it a night.
Francois kept leaning into me as he talked; smiling and rubbing shoulders, an obvious carryover from the kiss we'd shared earlier. I played along with his flirtations, but it was Phillippe that I was interested in. I wasn't sure if that was due to his aloofness or simply because he was so cute, but I definitely wanted to know him better. With the wine fueling my imagination, I began to strategize. I needed to bring Phillippe out of his shell, to let him know I found him sexy, but in a way that wouldn't hurt Francois's feelings. I played with a couple of ideas, including ignoring them both and remaining single for the evening, but the spirit of the alcohol got the better of me and I gave up on finding an easy solution. I needed to be direct . . ..
"So . . ." I said, leaning into Phillippe. "What part of France are you from?"
He seemed startled by my question. "Pardone?" he answered, his voice deep and his accent thick.
I glanced across the table and everybody was engaged in conversation, paying us little attention. I slipped my hand under the tablecloth and ran my palm along the inside of his leg in an unmistakable signal I knew he couldn't ignore. "What part of France are you from?" I repeated slowly, blushing as I stared into his brown eyes.
His mouth arched into a wicked grin and I rubbed a little higher up his thigh.
"We are from near Paris," he finally said, moving his leg closer to mine.
I nodded like I was interested, when all I could really think about was how strong he felt beneath my hand.
"I've never been to Europe, but once I went to--"
I'd intended to say Canada, but froze when I felt Francois's hand reach across from the other side and come to rest on my bare knee. Evidently he wasn't finished with our flirting and had chosen the same direct approach to let me know that I was using with Phillippe. Now I was stuck, my one hand suggestively stroking a guy on one side, while his friend came on to me from the other.
This could get complicated and I knew I had to think quickly. I could retract my advances with Phillippe, who had clearly received my message and was finally starting to warm up. Or, I could push Francois's hand away, sending off more mixed signals than a politician, especially considering the flirting we'd been engaged in and the round of tonsil hockey we'd finished less than an hour before.
Or . . . or, I could settle in and enjoy the attention.
"Another?" the waitress asked from the end of the table. It was a different girl. At some point the shift must have changed.
I looked at Phillippe and smiled as I slid my hand a little higher. "Yes," I answered. "White wine, please."
The waitress left and I pretended to watch the crowd as I shuffled slightly in my seat and uncrossed my legs. Francois took the hint and his hand moved higher, gently caressing the inside of my thigh. I'd dressed for a night of partying before I got on the plane, choosing what I thought was a reasonably sexy outfit with a short, gray pleated skirt and blue long sleeved top. The choice in attire was working to my advantage, with Francois's hand climbing higher and the sensation of skin-on-skin adding to the forbidden excitement. Phillippe, on my other side, leaned his leg harder into mine, an unmistakable signal that he wanted more.
This was crazy and I knew it, but I didn't care. I was having fun and, best of all, I hadn't thought about Jim since I'd sat down. In a way I'd never realized, this was proving to be my fantasy; to be seated between two handsome men, touching one as the other touched me. I didn't know how long the moment would last, but I was going to enjoy it for as long as it did.
Francois's hand climbed higher, his forearm pushing up my skirt, his fingers eventually brushing the outside of my panties. I swallowed hard, took a sharp breath, and moved my own hand higher up Phillippe's leg until I reached his crotch. His jeans were thick denim and it was difficult to gauge his arousal, but his facial expression made clear that he was enjoying the unfolding eroticism as much as I was.
Francois--on my other side--had upped the ante. I shuddered slightly as he worked his fingers back and forth. I tried to slide my legs further apart, but the room under the table was limited. I was so wet and so turned on that it almost hurt. His fingers were fighting to slide inside the elastic edge of my underpants, yet the confined space and my cramped seated position made it difficult. My one hand--still on top of the table--was gripping the wineglass so tight that my knuckles were turning white while my other hand squeezed harder against the bulge in Phillippe's jeans.
"Who had the white wine?" the waitress asked.
Francois jumped and pulled his hand from between my legs as I pulled my own from Phillippe's.
"That would be mine," I said, trying not to sound as flustered as I felt.
She delivered the last drink and disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived. I glanced at Francois and we exchanged knowing smiles. I was delirious with arousal and overflowing with nervous energy.
"You look like you're having more fun now," Alijia said from across the table.
I smiled. "Yeah, I am." If she only knew how much fun I was really having. "You are too," I said, making a subtle nod towards the guy seated next to her, the one she'd been hitting on for the last half-hour. She gave me a knowing arch of her eyebrow. She'd be getting lucky tonight, I was sure.
I took another big sip from my glass and noticed Mr. Macarana standing a few yards away. Evidently he hadn't slowed down on his drinking. He was hammered and standing on top of a table, his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt undone as he performed what looked like a really bad belly dancing impersonation. I needed to get everybody at the table distracted and he was about to help.
I leaned across to Alijia seated on the other side of the table. "You ever wonder if drunk people have any idea how ridiculous they look?" I asked, intentionally saying it loud enough so everybody at the table would hear.
She looked at me curiously, then turned around in her seat to watch Mr. Macarana. Just as I'd hoped, everybody turned with her. With their attentions away from me, I lifted my bottom from the bench and slid my panties down my thighs until they were nestled around my ankles. I sat up quickly, feeling the room heat up as I glanced around to see if anybody noticed my sudden movements. My breathing was hard and my heart pounded in my chest. I looked to my right and Francois was watching me.

Everybody at the table laughed and exchanged some jokes about the dancing fat man, then returned to their conversation. My secret was safe. I took another sip and slid my leg against Francois's. He seemed shy for a moment and it felt like minutes before his hand resumed the slow climb up my thigh. Higher he moved, a shiver washing through me the minute he touched my naked sex. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, trying not to scream as he teased at my wetness. Within seconds he was fucking me with his finger, one, trying for two, still hampered by the limited space under the table. I shuffled in torment as the movements of his hand speeded up, keeping time to the hypnotic pulse of the music that boomed from the dance floor. I bit my lip harder, certain that I was going to lose control at any moment. Phillippe--unaware of what was happening only inches away--leaned into me from the other side and whispered something I couldn't understand.
I stared straight ahead; unable to look at him, sure that the erotic tension of my expression would give away what was happening only inches away. He either saw something in my eyes, or was wondering why my hand hadn't returned to his thigh. Either way, the unthinkable happened. Like slow motion I watched Phillippe's hand set down his beer bottle and disappear under the tablecloth. Before I could react, I felt the rough edges of his fingers along the soft flesh of my other leg. He moved quickly and into a direct collision with the hand Francois had buried in my lap. I lost my breath, my eyes frozen.
Within nanoseconds, everybody's hands were back on top of the table.
I stared out to the dance floor feeling absolutely mortified and unable to speak. I searched frantically for some explanation, but there was none. They must have thought I was some kind of slut, coming onto both of them at the very same time.
"Are you okay?" Alijia asked.
"What?"
"Anna . . . you look like you're going to be sick."
The room seemed to be heating up and everything was closing in around me. I needed to get out of there. "Where's my purse," I said out loud, pretending to search under the table while I dragged my panties high enough to allow me to stand up.
I felt a nudge and turned to see Phillippe holding the leather bag, a look of jealous disappointment in his eyes. "Thanks," I said. "I'll be back in a little bit," I told Alijia.
I scooted back from the bench and stood up quickly. All the wine I'd drank finally caught up with me. I took my first step and the room began to spin like a carnival ride and I grabbed hold of the wall for support. Everybody turned towards me and Phillippe stood up quickly, taking my arm and helping to hold me up. Alijia followed quickly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her face etched with concern.
I looked briefly to the table and Francois was staring up at me, the same damn look of defeat on his face as I'd seen on Phillippe's. I felt awful, both physically and emotionally.
"The wine," I mumbled. "I need to go to the ladies room. Can you hand me my purse?"
"You've got your purse," Alijia said. "I'm going with you," she added, leading me by the arm.
We made it to the ladies' room and she waited while I splashed cold water on my face and touched up my make-up for the second time that evening. I told her I was calling it a night, but didn't say anything else. I'd tell her eventually, but right now I just needed to get out of there. It took a while to convince her that I wasn't offended or feeling left out. I just had a lot on my mind and was ready for some sleep. The truth was I couldn't go back to the table and face Francois and Phillippe.
"I'll just take a cab back to the lodge," I repeated. "Write down the address, would you?"
"Nonsense. I'll leave with you."
"Alijia, it's not a problem, honest. You're having fun. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll be fine tomorrow and we'll figure out what we're going to do with the rest of our vacation. Maybe a good shopping trip is what we need."
It was obvious she was struggling with what to do.
"Ali . . . I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure," I answered forcing a smile.
~:~~:~
I joined a crowd of people that were leaving the club and stepped outside. It was warmer than I thought it would be, with a dark mountain sky full of more stars than I ever saw in the city. I dug through my purse and pulled out my wallet. Shit. All that wine I'd drank had used up more cash than I realized and the rest of the spending money I had brought for the trip was back at the lodge in my suitcase.
I had about three dollars and some change, definitely not enough for the taxi. I could go back inside and ask Alijia for some money or wait for her to leave, but that would mean facing Francois and Phillippe. I did not want to do that. I remembered seeing a bank on the cab ride to the bar where I could use an ATM. I was pretty sure it was within walking distance. The trick now was to find it.
I started down the road, trying to remember the path the taxi had taken. I hadn't made it two blocks when I heard a car approaching from behind, the engine winding down as it slowed to a roll.
"Going my way, sweet thing?" I heard a male voice ask.
I turned and looked. "Oh . . . hi, Todd," I said without slowing my walk.
"Where's your new age friend?"
"Aljia? She's back at the lodge . . . I decided to leave early."
"I see," he said. The speed of their car was keeping perfect pace with my stride. "How bout' a ride?"
I turned and stooped slightly to see in the car. The driver wasn't nearly as pretty as Todd was. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks and he had a peach-fuzz goatee that looked like it had been pasted on for Halloween. "Nice skirt," he said, flashing me a tobacco-stained smile followed by a grunting laugh that sounded like that Beavis guy from the cartoon series.
I ignored him and heard Todd say, "Pull over."
The car lunged ahead and braked at the curb. Doors slammed and they both emerged, strutting up the sidewalk and blocking my path. I moved to one side to step around and they moved with me.
"Guys, I'm not in the mood for this, okay? It's already been a long night."
Todd blocked me again, his face moving within an inch of mine. The smell of hard liquor on his breath was unmistakable. "Long night, huh?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Well, I told you . . . the best way to forget about an old boyfriend is to find somebody new. And best of all it's your lucky night. I didn't meet anybody either, so I'm still available."
His goober friend laughed encouragingly. It was an annoying cackle that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.
"Yeah . . . my lucky night," I said sarcastically, trying to step around his other side.
Todd grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me back to him. He stared down at me, the same cold gleam that I'd seen earlier. "Listen," he said with a phony, tight smile on his lips. "You're one stuck-up little bitch, you know that? You think you're too good for me? Is that it? I've had better than you, haven't I, Carl?"
"I don't know, Todd . . . she's pretty cute."
Suddenly I realized that their car was the only one I'd seen since I'd left the lodge. I'd made a left towards the bank when everybody else was turning right. The street felt absolutely deserted. "Let go of my arm, Todd!" I managed, jerking in an attempt to break free, but his grip was too tight.
I heard Beavis--or whatever his name was--say, "Kiss her Todd!"
Todd grinned and leaned his face towards mine. I turned my head and continued to struggle, which only made him squeeze my arms harder. "Go open the door, Carl," he finally said, a hard edge to his voice. "I think we need to give Annie a ride home. Then maybe she'll give us a ride."
"I don't need a ride. Look, just leave me alone!" I blurted. I was starting to panic. "Todd, you're hurting me!"
I was scared. Even if I broke free from his grip, there was no way I could outrun the two of them, not in the shoes I was wearing.
"Hurry up, Carl!" Todd said. "Before somebody comes."
Carl ran back to the car and opened the passenger door as Todd started to pull me after him.
"I swear to God I'm going to scream!" I shouted.
"Hurry up, Todd!" Carl shouted.
I heard an approaching engine and glanced back, but the distance between the approaching car and us was too far. Todd wrapped an arm around my lower back and guided me towards the car, giving the illusion to anybody driving by that we were a couple out for some evening stroll. I tried to pull away, but again his fingers dug into my ribcage as he leaned into me with his liquor breath.
"Take it easy . . . making a scene now will only make it worse for you later," he snarled.
I started to shake. If they got me inside that car it was over. I made one last attempt to break from his grip and he grabbed my arm, attempting to drag me the final distance to the car.
We were only a few feet from his door when the squeal of locking brakes filled the air. I turned and a pick-up truck skidded to a stop behind us, the doors flying open on rusty hinges. I could vaguely make out a sign that said 'Landscaping' with a phone number listed below the logo. Two figures emerged and marched towards us, their pace brisk and their body language screaming 'fight or flight'. The streetlight illuminated their face and I realized it was Francois and Phillippe.
Carl disappeared into the driver's seat and Todd let go of my arm. I could tell he was thinking about playing it tough, but with Carl behind the wheel and ready to flee, he didn't stand much of a chance.
"Another day, Annie," he smirked. He held up his middle finger and mouthed 'fuck you', then turned and made a cocky stroll towards the car. Beavis barely waited for Todd's door to close before he sped away leaving behind a cloud of black oily smoke.
The weight of the evening and everything that had happened finally caught up with me and I broke down in tears. I tried desperately to contain myself, but it was futile. I was never so glad to see anybody in my life as I was to see Francois and Phillippe pull up in that rickety old pick-up-truck. I was trembling as Francois stepped up. He put a reassuring hand on my arm and I buried my face in his shirt to avoid them seeing me cry.
"You are okay?" he asked, awkwardly patting my shoulder.
I nodded and stepped back, pushing the hair from my face and drying my eyes with the heel of my hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you guys showed up when you did. My knights in shining armor."
They stared at me blankly. Once again my words weren't registering. "Thank you," I added, confident they would understand that.
They smiled together and nodded. "You are welcome," Phillippe responded, proud that we had communicated, if only for a moment. "Uh, you are going where?" he asked.
The look of concentration on his face as he pieced together his English sentences was cute. "I was trying to go home," I answered. "I ran out of money for a cab." Blank look. "Taxi?"
Francois picked up where I left off, pointing back to the dilapidated pick-up truck. "You want ride?" he asked. "To Alijia?"
"No, I was going home." I dug quickly through my purse for the piece of paper scrawled with her address.
He grinned and nodded in recognition that he knew where her house was. We climbed into the pick-up. It wasn't old, but had seen its share of wear and tear. The back was filled with a variety of tools and gardening equipment, a lawn mower, and some other big machinery that wasn't immediately familiar. I slid across the bench seat as Francois climbed in the driver's side and Phillippe the passenger's.
"Your truck?" I asked Francois.
"Is . . . how you say . . . for work."
The drive back to Alijia's house didn't take long, but also didn't seem the least bit familiar. There was no way I could have walked it myself. They were friendly and talkative along the way, turning on the radio and signaling for me to find something I wanted to listen to. It was obvious that they were doing their best to put me at ease. I was sure they had discussed what had happened under the table and every time I thought about it I wanted to disappear, but there was nothing I could do to change it now. The truck made a final series of turns, rolled up the secluded driveway, and came to rest in front of the cabin.
"Thanks, you guys, you were life savers."
They grinned and nodded.
I reached across and gave Francois a quick kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Phillippe. "I know you guys can't understand everything I'm saying, but I want you to know that I'm sorry for what happened back at the restaurant. I just got a little carried away sitting between two handsome men . . .."
I noticed Francois exchange glances with Phillippe, like for once they understood what I was saying.
"Well, I better get going."
Phillippe opened his door. I slid to the side and stared at the cabin. The windows were dark and the surrounding wooded area seemed deathly still. A wind surfaced, running through the branches of the trees, creaking and lending an eerie flavor to an already disturbing evening. The thought of entering that vacant structure, all alone, felt like living out a scene from one of those third-rate horror movies. I knew I was being silly and that there was nothing but an empty house waiting for me, but still. I jumped when the rusty hinge of the pick-up door squeaked as Phillippe climbed back in. I looked back and they were watching me, seeming to sense my hesitation.
"Do you guys . . . I mean, would you like to come in or anything? Until I get the lights on?"
No recognition.
"Come inside?" I repeated, pointing to both of them and then motioning to the door.
They exchanged more French, then Phillippe acknowledged me. "For little bit," he said, with a shy smile.
The inside of Alijia's Dad's cabin was small, but cozy. The walls were rustic giving a flavor like a log cabin. Alijia had mentioned that her Mother did all the decorating and she had done a wonderful job. Each room had a theme, with the living area being that of the Rocky Mountains. A large painting covered one wall surrounded by various souvenirs of the outdoors, including replicas of antique guns and smaller pictures of meadows and rainbow-colored sunsets. I raced frantically through each room, turning on every light and checking to ensure the place was empty. Satisfied that I had nothing to worry about, I returned to the living room. The guys were seated on the couch pretending to be interested in the magazines that were spread out on the coffee table.
"Something to drink?" I asked, making a supporting motion with my hand.
They both nodded. I retreated to the kitchen and searched the cupboards. Once again Alijia had been thinking ahead. There were two unopened bottles of white wine in the pantry. I reappeared in the doorway and held up the bottle for their approval. They nodded and I filled three glasses.
I returned and Phillippe was holding a teddy bear I had bought for Alijia. For as long as I had known her she had collected teddy bears and I had picked one up at the airport before I left Minnesota. She had already named him Mr. Paddington.
"Alijia's" I commented. "She collects them."
The usual blank stares.
"Hobby?" I repeated. "You know . . . she has lots of them?" Not a glimmer of recognition.
I sat the wine on the table, took the bear from Phillippe, and motioned for them to follow. I led them back to where I knew Alijia stored half of her stuffed animal collection. It had grown so large over the years that she had to split it up between homes. I think she secretly did that on purpose, as it gave her a sense of reassurance when she was staying with her Dad. I led the guys into the rear of the cabin and into the guest bedroom where one entire wall was lined with shelves displaying every plush character imaginable.
"See, he'll go here," I said, motioning to the shelves.
"Ahhhhh," Phillippe said. "Alijia's?" he added.
"Yes . . . they're all Alijia's."
Our situation was innocent enough, but all I could think about was the scene at the restaurant and the fact that we were alone in a bedroom. We lingered for a moment, none of us speaking, but nobody in any hurry to return to the living area. I looked at Francois. The look of lust in his eyes was unmistakable telling me I wasn't the only one with an overactive imagination. He said something to Phillippe.
"You know, guys," I said. "It makes me a little nervous when I can't understand you."
Phillippe took a step closer and pretended to examine the bear in my arms.
"So . . . do you want to watch TV or anything?"
I was short on breath and almost couldn't finish my sentence. Francois moved in from the other side. It was a cheap facade as they both pretended to be interested in Mr. Paddington, touching his clothes and squeezing his stuffed ears. But we all knew what was happening. The important question was how far would it go? How far was I willing to let it go? How far did I want it to go? In truth, I wasn't entirely sure; but factually, I had done nothing to slow their advances. From their perspective this was inevitable. They probably even thought that asking them inside and getting them back to this bedroom was all part of some master plan.
Phillippe's fingers left the bear and ran down my arm. He smiled, his hand traveling lower to my hip where he pinched and fondled the pleated material of my skirt, teasingly lifting it higher. I stood deathly still until his fingers reached underneath and brushed against by bare skin. He was measuring my response to his advances and I was failing the test.
"Maybe we should go back into the living room?" I said, my voice quivering.
Francois moved closer and began to touch me from the other side.
Part of me was insanely excited over what was unfolding and yet another was a little timid; frightened over the unknown of what I was getting into. One thing was certain; I needed to decide quickly. The further this went, the harder it would be to turn back and the more they'd think I had led them on. I was pretty sure they wouldn't force me into anything, but I'd known them for less than an evening. Still, something I couldn't explain told me I was safe. And something deep inside told me I wanted to see what might happen next . . ..
I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around their waists, pulling them close until the weight of their chests pressed against my shoulders. Francois moved my hair to the side kissed my neck, his warm breath sending ticklish shivers down my spine. Phillippe continued touching me under my skirt. I was sandwiched between them, their hands crossing boundaries that were off limits for any casual friendship. And yet I did nothing to stop them.
Francois stepped behind me and tugged on my sweater. I closed my eyes and lifted my arms overhead allowing him to remove my top. I hugged my chest as a wave of goose bumps washed over my exposed shoulders, my nipples hardening beneath my bra.
Phillippe moved to the front and lifted my skirt to my waist. We exchanged awkward smiles, both of us adapting as best we could to the intensity of what was unfolding, our eyes telling without saying. He sank into a kneeling position and looked up at me as he reached underneath my skirt and traced the inside of my thigh. Higher he climbed until his fingers grazed my panties, his eyes never leaving mine as if to ask--one last time--was this what I wanted?
Before I could answer, Francois stepped closer from behind, nibbling the back of my neck, the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against my bottom. He unlatched my bra and guided the straps down my shoulders as Phillippe began to take down my underpants.
It was getting difficult to remain calm and I started to lose my nerve. Things were moving too fast. There was still a part of me that wanted out of my clothes, to be nude, to have them ravish me. But I couldn't ignore the consequences or how I would feel tomorrow. My mother told me years before that it's a man's world when it comes to sex and, standing there, I had a premonition of what she meant. Tomorrow I'd be some kind of slut, the subject of some bathroom conversation. If it was a guy with two girls, he'd be a hero--but for me to live out a fantasy with two men would be considered sleazy.
I held my bra in place with one hand and grabbed the edge of the panties with the other.
"No," I said.
Phillippe looked up at me from below, startled and clearly confused.
I pulled the straps of my bra back onto my shoulders. "I can't go though with this. I'm sorry, guys . . . it's not you. It's hard to explain . . . it's just different . . .."
Francois whispered something from behind, the rough texture of his cheek brushing the back of my neck. I had no idea what he said, but was sure he meant it to be reassuring. And that's when I realized the beautiful irony. I was depriving my own desires for fear of what other people would think. But even if Francois and Phillippe wanted to tell everybody what happened between us--who would understand? Maybe Alijia, but she'd eventually hear it from me.
Phillippe looked up from his kneeling position, his brown eyes aching with frustrated desire. "It's okay . . .," he said. "We will stop."
With a deep breath for courage, I leaned down and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, guiding him up from the floor to face me. He stared into my eyes with an expression of bewilderment. I bit my lip and started to unbutton his shirt. He stood still as I worked each fastener loose, spreading and revealing his chest. He wore a silver pendant around his neck on a matching silver chain. His body was muscular, but not the icky bodybuilder type. More like a swimmer's physique with just a trace of body hair, a circle around each nipple. I ran my fingernails down his skin and along the prominent ridges of his flat stomach.
"A six pack," I said with a smile. "Does it get any better?"
He looked at me questioningly, still trying to understand my mixed signals.
"I want you," I whispered, using my eyes to tell him of my desire. I turned and looked back to Francois, who watched on with a mischievous grin. "I want you both," I added.
Francois helped me out of my bra and draped it across the same arm that held my sweater. He stepped behind me and unzipped my skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor with a muffled thud. A feeling of absolute liberation washed over me like a wave as I stood between them--Phillippe facing me and Francois moving in from behind. I felt sexy and incredibly feminine in their presence. I felt alive and--for the first time that night--far away from Jim. I wasn't sure how far this would go, but I was ready to find out.
I sank to my knees and instinctively they took a place on either side of me as I hugged each of their thighs, pulling them closer. Phillippe would be first. With trembling fingers, I went to work on his pants. I wanted to see him, to hold him, to taste him. I unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his jeans, and stared up into his brown eyes as I slowly lowered his zipper.
"Help me," I whispered, rubbing the bulge that pressed outward from his trousers.
This he understood and slid a hand into his underwear, eventually drawing out his beautiful cock. It was thick and warm and half-erect and I was wet just looking at him. He took a half step towards me until the swelling hood of his penis brushed against my lips. I smiled and moved my mouth from side to side, teasing, but not taking him as I heard the sound of Francois unfastening his trousers.
I gave Phillippe's cock a few sensuous tugs before turning and staring up at the other man who awaited my attentions. He licked his lips with anticipation, his chest heaving with anxious breaths. We exchanged smiles as he slid his hand inside his underwear and fished out his burgeoning member. I touched him and he began to harden immediately.
With a man in each hand, they moved closer, their swelling erections brushing against my cheeks. Two men, two luscious cocks, so deliciously close and mine for the taking. I was delirious with passion. I began with Phillippe, rubbing the hood of his erection against my face. He was already wet and a thin strand of come stretched from his swollen crown to my chin. I felt a hand on my shoulder, nudging me.
I turned and looked up at Francois. "Don't worry . . . I haven't forgotten you."
I returned to Phillippe and took him between my lips, delivering a smooth, wet ride along his shaft. I sank into him for three or four long strokes, pausing only when his legs began to tremble. He caressed my hair, moving his hips in rhythm and pulling me to him in a signal he wanted more, but I withdrew. It was too early to be playing favorites.
The forbidden eroticism of the situation was absolutely intoxicating. I shuffled on my knees to Francois and together we pulled down his pants. He was fully erect and his stiff cock brushed against my nose as I dragged his jeans to a mid-point on his thighs.
"Mmmm, you Frenchmen are blessed, aren't you?" I said with a giggle, staring at his thick erection.
Neither answered, with only the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the room. I stroked Francois's cock with one hand, reaching around and massaging his butt with the other. Just like his friend, he became wet almost immediately, my grip sliding effortlessly along his length. I took him, feeling a tremor flow through my body as his thick cock filled my mouth. I loved this. It was a sensation of erotic power, the salty taste of his arousal, the remnants of his cologne teasing my senses. He was hard like a wooden post as my lips pushed further downward. I sucked him with all I had to offer, wrapping my mouth tight around him and peeling slowly back until he popped free from my lips.
I stood up, out of breath, and hornier than I'd ever been in my life. I jumped onto the bed and patted the mattress on either side of me.
"First come . . . is first served," I said, giggling and blushing all at the same time.
With his pants still at half-mast, Francois stumbled towards me and almost fell down. All of us laughed as he frantically pulled up his trousers before they both approached the bed.
"Uh uh," I said, shaking my head and holding out my hand. "You need to get undressed first. And I get to watch."
They stared at one another and mumbled more French.
"Your pants . . . your shirt," I added, pointing with my fingers. "Take them off!"
Francois took a seat on the floor and slipped off his shoes, then stood up and lowered his pants, underwear and all. Phillippe sat on the edge of the bed and did the same, but left on his jet-black jockey briefs. They crawled onto the bed and nestled in on either side of me. Within seconds, their hands were all over my body. Phillippe leaned in and took my breast in his mouth, while Francois moved lower, delivering deep, wet kisses to my stomach.
"Guys," I gasped, already losing it. "Slowly . . .."
Phillippe's mouth became more aggressive against my breast, while his fingers pinched and teased my opposite nipple. I felt Francois pulling down on my panties. Everything was happening so fast. I was basking in the attention, but still not sure . . ..
"Hummmm . . . not yet," I gasped, struggling to pull up my panties.
My hesitance did nothing to slow either man down. Phillippe's face inched up my neck and he began to kiss me. Francois moved lower, running his mouth down the inside of my thigh. My kissing with Phillippe became more passionate, our tongues moving together as I allowed Francois to spread my legs, his mouth moving closer to my pussy.
"MMMMMM," I moaned between kisses the moment I felt his fingers tease me through my drenched underpants.
Francois sensed by dilemma. If I allowed my panties to come off, there was no turning back. But he could also tell how badly I wanted to be touched. He met me halfway, sliding the thin cotton to the side and burying his tongue into my wetness.
"Oh God!" I gasped, my head pressing back into the pillow.
Phillippe's mouth left my lips and moved down my neck, his hand roaming from breast to breast, squeezing and pulling.
Francois scooped up my thighs and laced them across his shoulders, dragging the panty strip to the side and devouring me from below. I was close to coming when I heard the material rip as he forcefully dragged aside the thin cotton layer, providing him the access we both craved. He stroked his tongue gingerly across my clit and I began to shake uncontrollably.
Phillippe was kissing me again, his mouth dropping again to my chest until I grappled for handfuls of his hair, his teeth tugging and scraping at my swollen nipples. I was lost, with no idea of what to do or how to respond. Pleasure and intensity raged through my body, the stimulation attacking me from every angle.
"Okay!" I finally gasped, pushing Phillippe off my chest and wiggling upwards towards the headboard.
Francois stared up at me from below, his lips shining with my arousal.
"Come here," I motioned. "It's your turn."
Francois crawled towards me and I pushed him onto his back. He was thick and incredibly hard. I went to work, trying to deliver the same pleasure he had given me. I watched him as I sucked; smiling and moaning in ways that conveyed my enjoyment. I pushed lower until he'd all but disappeared into my throat, then reeled back and plunged again. I could feel him twitching in my mouth, a sign he was close to coming. That I didn't want. I slowed down and started to get up, when I felt Phillippe move in from behind.
"You're wanting some too?" I said, looking back over my shoulder.
But it became clear that he wanted more. Phillippe grabbed my hips and lifted my bottom, shifting me into a position on all fours before rubbing his swollen erection up and down my behind. Going all the way still seemed too far, but the feeling of his stiff member riding against me felt too good to ignore. Before I could speak, Francois had pulled my head back to his cock. I licked him slowly to avoid getting him too excited.
"Okay, I can't take this anymore," I finally gasped.
I was ready to turn around and go down on Phillippe, but before I could move he had pulled my panties to the side.
"I don't do--" I gasped, thinking he might be heading for places I wanted no man to be.
But my breath evaporated before I could finish my sentence, his cock pushing against my pussy. He took hold of my hips and drove harder, his thickness forging a path inside me.
I had crossed over. Holding back now seemed meaningless. I opened my eyes and Francois was still on his back, staring up at me. He watched intently as Phillippe fucked me from behind. My body jerked with the motion, my hair dangling down and brushing the mattress. I tried to speak but the words didn't materialize. Francois watched us, stroking himself, his eyes locked with mine as the pace and force of Phillippe's thrusts became more intense.
"Let's lay down," I finally managed.
Phillippe didn't let up, but the all-fours position he had me in was proving to be uncomfortable. I reached back with a hand and made a faint, waving motion for him to slow down. He finally understood and eventually pulled out. I rolled onto my back and into a laying position next to Francois, as Phillippe hovered over me, his cock glistening with traces of my juices. I arched by bottom up off the mattress and pulled down my panties, kicking them to the side.
I held out my arms and spread my legs, ready for Philippe to take me, but before he could move, Francois reached across and rolled me on top of him. Unsure of how to respond, I inched up into a straddled position, glancing back at Phillippe for his reaction. The frown he wore confirmed that he wasn't finished with me, but Francois had taken control. I felt him trying to find alignment and lifted up.
With my hands on his chest, I sat backwards and we began to fuck. Phillippe was not to be left out and stood up on the mattress, stumbling slightly to regain his balance. He moved his cock within inches of my face and I wrapped my lips over his swollen hood. I remained as still as I could--Francois pumping into me from below--as Phillippe worked his hips back an forth, fucking my mouth from above. I opened my lips wider and his cocked entered further. I felt the building of my orgasm return as Francois pounded into me. It was getting difficult to remain still and Phillippe's erection kept falling from my lips. I pulled back and grabbed his hand.
"Lay down," I said, tugging on his arm.
He did as I asked, stretching out into a laying position next to Francois, then scooted up towards the headboard so I could lean across and reach his cock with my mouth. Their side-by-side laying positions provided the perfect alignment for Francois to fuck me while I sucked Phillippe. It was like we had all found the balance we'd longed for. Phillippe was engorged as I went down on him, while his friend grabbed my ass and pumped savagely into me from below, fucking me so hard I thought I might pass out. He began to gasp something incoherent. He was going to come. I tried to slow the pace, hoping he could last a little longer, as I was so close.
He grabbed my butt and rammed into me as my own orgasm finally broke through. Phillippe's hips bounced against the mattress, his cock jerking in and out of my mouth in short, quick jabs. The closest I'd gotten to letting a guy come in my mouth was Jim, but he hadn't finished. Truthfully, I wasn't sure I wanted it to happen now--not with a virtual stranger--and for a split second I considered pulling back. But that didn't seem natural, not with everything that had happened between the three of us. This had been a night of crossing over and this was just one more limit to overcome.
Francois gasped below me. He was coming. My own orgasm continued, rushing through my body like an electric current. My entire being shook as Francois delivered his final few movements from below. I pushed my mouth further down, taking as much of Phillippe's shaft as I could take until he finally screamed, releasing into my mouth. I stayed with him, fighting my need for air as the thick, hot liquid surged into my mouth until I opened my lips enough to allow his seed to flow downward and into a pool at the base of his shaft. I closed my eyes and let him finish until his wilting penis fell from my lips.
We rested; all of us silent; all of us exhausted. I was drifting asleep and forced myself awake long enough to pull on a robe and hustle the guys into getting dressed before Alijia arrived home. We exchanged one last kiss at the doorway before ending the evening. Again, it was ironic, as the kiss we'd shared was brief and noncommittal, more like an affection shared between good friends than three people that had just spent the night groping and fucking one another's brains out.
~:~~:~~
If on Saturday I discovered how much fun and liberating drinking could make me feel, Sunday I was reminded that everything had a price. I woke up about ten o'clock with a crushing headache and a thirst like I'd spent the last week in a barren desert. I stumbled out of bed, pulled on my robe, and brushed my teeth. As if the headache wasn't enough, I was sore down below from the working over that Francois and Phillippe had given me.
The stereo was on and I could hear the clamor of dishes in the kitchen. I entered the living room and found Alijia be-bopping around.
"Well, good morning sunshine!" she said with way too much energy.
"What is this?" I asked, nodding to the stereo.
"Tori Amos. You like?"
I picked up the plastic jewelcase. "Little Earthquakes? Never heard of it."
I moved over and dropped onto the sofa. "Tell me we've got some aspirin around here somewhere?"
"Not feeling well?" she snickered. "Did you pray at the porcelain temple this morning?"
"Did I what?"
"Did you hurl, my dear? You know, throw up?"
"No, but I've never felt this bad in my life."
"Sit tight. I've got just the thing."
I heard her moving from cabinet to cabinet like she had lived there all her life. She reappeared with a glass of something red in one hand and two yellow pills in the other. I accepted the concoction and--against my better judgement--decided to smell it before I drank up.
"Eckh . . . what is this?"
"Hair of the dog. Trust me on this one. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the only way you'll feel better."
With anybody else I would have argued, but Alijia undeniably had more experience in the party department than I did. Re-using a trick my grandmother had taught me when I used to take medicine, I pinched my nose and drank the entire mixture in one tilt of the glass.
"That . . . " I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "If I hadn't puked before . . .."
"Lie back, relax, and let it go to work. You'll feel better in no time."

I did as I was told and within fifteen minutes my headache started to fade. I sat up and Alijia delivered another glass that I downed in the same quick fashion. Another fifteen minutes and I was feeling halfway normal.
She plopped into the chair across from me. "Guess what I did last night?"
"With that guy you were talking to?"
"Nah, I'm just teasing. He wanted to, but I wasn't into it. We just made out. So, what happened to you last night?" she asked with a sinister grin. "The guys came back to the lodge and said they gave you a ride home."
I opened my eyes and pushed the hair from my face. "What else did they say?"
"Truthfully?" she asked, pausing for effect then adding with disappointment, "Nothing. I grilled them too and they just said they'd taken you home. But that didn't explain why they were gone so long. Did you and Francois hit it off?"
"You could say that. You could say I hit it off with Phillippe too."
She looked puzzled. "I don't get it?"
I was about to tell her the whole story when the phone rang. She grinned mischievously. "I bet that's one of them calling right now." She reached across and picked up the receiver. "Bon Jour!" she said with a smile.
The expression on her face made it obvious that it wasn't Francois or Phillippe on the other end of the line.
"Uh, yeah she is . . . can I ask who's calling . . . sure, hold on a second." She covered the phone with her hand. "It's for you . . . it's some guy named Jim?"
My stomach dropped like I just made the plunge on a roller coaster. "Jim?"
"Yeah . . . he asked if he could speak to Anna. Seems too much of a coincidence. You want me to tell him you're not here?"
"No . . . I'll take it."
I reached for the phone and hesitated. "Hello?"
The deep voice was unmistakable. "Anna . . . it's Jim."
"How did you get this number?"
"Don't ask . . . it's not something I'm proud of."
"Seriously, how?"
"I looked through Trevor's phone book and found your home number, then called your parents on behalf of Trevor saying that one of your friends had been hurt in an accident and that I needed to get a hold of you to let you know."
I couldn't help but smile. "And they believed you?"
"I make my living in sales, Anna. So . . . are you okay?"
Our conversation from the night before rushed back. Somehow I didn't feel as angry. I wasn't sure if that was because of what I had done or if the sting of knowing that he was on a date had worn off.
"Yeah . . . I'm fine. How are you?"
"I'm not so fine, especially after you hung up on me last night."
"I'm sorry I acted the way that I did. I just wasn't expecting somebody else to answer the phone and time ran out on my call. I didn't hang up on you," I said.
"You sounded upset . . . what was I supposed to think?"
I was silent. Alijia was sitting across from me, staring and hanging on my every word. "Listen . . . now's not really a good time to talk about this."
"Okay . . . then when? Do I need to buy a ticket and fly to Denver? If so, I'll do it tonight."
I smiled again. "Would you do that for me?"
"Say the word and it's done."
"No, Jim . . . I'll call you when I get back into town."
"So you're definitely coming back to Minnesota?"
"Of course I'm coming back to Minnesota. This was just a vacation. I start my new job in another two weeks, so I have to come back. I promise . . . I'll call you when I get back into town."
The phone wasn't back on the receiver before Alijia asked, "So, who is Jim?"
I thought about her question and everything that had happened in the last two weeks. "Ali . . . if I told you something . . . something really personal . . . would you promise me that you've never tell another living human being?"
She grinned in anticipation and moved the edge of her seat. "Cross my heart."
I took a deep breath. "You'll never believe the last two weeks . . ."
~~:~~:~~
Final Thoughts:
It takes weeks to produce a quality story and minutes to read the result. I'm fine with the trade-off, as my goal is to produce fiction that people enjoy, while improving my writing through practice.
If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more of my work, do me a favor and leave a healthy vote (9 or 10) for this story.
Another thing you can do is add me to your favorite authors list.
Doing either leads more people to read my stories, which keeps me motivated to write.
If you didn't enjoy the story enough to vote, or you gave it a lower vote, drop me a line and let me know what you didn't like. I'm always interested in better understanding reader tastes.
~Jack

Sworn Secrets -- an Anna Story

by Jack Handee

Most days I'd like to shake the hand of the person who came up with the idea for telecommuting. I seem to get so much more accomplished when I break away from the office, leaving behind the endless meetings, the organic inbox that seems to grow paper, and the water cooler political struggles. Still, it was Friday and for me it's hard to get anything done on Friday no matter where I'm sitting.
Struggling to stay focused, I plugged away on a set of sales figures I needed for a report that was due on Monday. As I stared at the flickering spreadsheet, my eyes burning from fatigue, I heard the front door open and close, a signal that my son Trevor was home from school. Continuing to type, I was distracted by the thud of his backpack hitting the kitchen table, the refrigerator door opening and closing, followed by the sound of his tennis shoes squeaking against the tiled entryway as he approached my home office.
"Working from home today, huh, Dad?" he said, appearing in my doorway.
I glanced over my shoulder to see him methodically removing the peel from a banana, turning it from side to side as he checked for bruises. At seventeen, the kid was a bottomless pit when it came to food.
"Yeah, I've got a report due on Monday," I answered. "Thought I'd get more done if I was here."
I resumed my typing expecting to hear his fading footsteps, but that part never came. I turned to find him staring at me, a large wad of fruit stuffed in his cheek like a chipmunk.
"A report, huh?" he mumbled between bites.
"Yep, a report. This is kind of urgent stuff I'm working on, Trev. Did you need something?"
He finally swallowed. "Sort of, but if you're busy, I suppose it can wait."
In many ways I was proud that Trevor felt comfortable enough to Interrupt me. I've heard constant stories from friends of how their once lovable children grew up to be reclusive teens that barely resembled their younger selves. After my divorce I had worked especially hard at maintaining an open communication with my son where we could discuss anything that was on his mind. If I didn't make the time when he wanted to talk, odds were low that I'd get a second chance.
I took off my glasses and rested them on the desk. "You've got something on your mind, don't you?"
"Like I said, it can wait."
"No, that's okay. I was in need of a break anyway."
He dropped into a seated position against the wall. "It's Anna," he said.
Anna: my heart skipped a beat with the sound of her name.
I know it's not politically correct to lust after my son's teenage girlfriend and honestly it's not something I'm particularly proud of. Still, an almost forbidden carnal attraction has been an undeniable part of my feelings for Anna from the moment we met.
At forty-four-years-old I'm no stranger to beautiful women of any age, so admittedly the effect she's had on me is bewildering. I'd probably attribute it to some type of pheromone, some biological explanation for why I'm drawn to her in the way that I am.
I know it's something much more than her statuesque good looks--something beyond the flowing mane of blonde hair, her hard young figure, or those gorgeous blue eyes that seem to penetrate right through me. It's something deeper: something that reaches inside my very being and absolutely captivates my imagination. Whatever it is, it's admittedly disconcerting, as evidenced by how my pulse quickens every time I hear her name.
"So, what about Anna?"
"Well, we haven't been getting along so well lately." He paused, wolfing down another bite of his banana. "And I've met somebody else that I'm more interested in."
"I see . . . A new girl?"
"Yeah, her name's Julie and she's great, Dad. She's smart and she's funny and she doesn't think every spare moment needs to be spent at some social function."
In truth, little of what he was saying surprised me. Trevor was pretty much the introverted jock and, unlike his girlfriend, not the type to thrive at social functions. "Does Anna know about this Julie?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I need your advice on how to break the news, not about Julie, but the fact that it's over between Anna and me."
As I tried to formulate the advice he was asking for, all I could think about was how I wouldn't see Anna again. We were just getting so close, too. As ridiculous as it sounds, it felt at times that Anna and I had dates of our own. Sometimes when Trevor and she would stop by the house after a game, he'd get bored with the two of us and end up watching ESPN in his room while she and I stayed up chatting for hours. We talked about everything from the recent movies we'd seen to our opinions on the presidential elections. In a twisted way I felt I was breaking up with her too. One thing was certain; I was going to miss her much more than I cared to admit.
"Well, before you call it off, are you sure this is what you want to do?"
I wanted so badly for him to rethink the situation and change his mind.
"Yeah, I'm positive. I just don't have the same feelings for her anymore, Dad. The romance is gone."
As he stared at me, I realized I needed to respond. "Well, my advice is be honest with her, but be sensitive about her feelings. If you're really drifting apart, she deserves to know. Just be gentle. I always liked Anna and I'd hate to see her get hurt."
"I'd say a more accurate description was you wanted her."
Even though he was grinning when he said it, his words hung in the air like damp humidity. There was no way he could know how I felt about Anna. I'd been too careful, never hinting at anything out of the ordinary. "Want her?" I responded. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"The way you two are always getting so chummy, having your little late night chats, it's obvious. Not to mention the way you're always checking her out when she comes over. Like that time we were out by the pool and she was wearing that red bikini. You remember? I thought I was going to have to call 911 on you."
There was humor in his voice at least.
"I remember," I said, heating up with embarrassment. "But that wasn't what it looked like. I just noticed how little her bathing suit was, that's all. I was surprised her parents let her out of the house wearing something that skimpy."
He started laughing as he raised himself from the floor. "Get with it, Dad, it's the new millennium. All the girls wear suits like that. Besides, it's no big deal. Every guy in the school wants her, not to mention most of the male teachers, so you're not alone."
"Every guy but you," I said, wishing again that he'd change his mind.
"Been there and had that."
His last comment was interesting and for a split second I almost asked for the details, but that would only tip my cards further. He seemed so at ease with it all. I was the one having problems letting her go.
"Well, then it sounds like you're making the right decision," I said. "And for the record, I don't want her."
"Sure you don't. Actually you should be flattered. She told me she thinks you're handsome."
"Really?" Handsome, I thought, my shoulders straightening and my chest expanding. "When did she say that?"
"Oh, one day when we were talking about bald guys. She was saying that I didn't need to worry, because you aren't bald. Then she went on to say something about you being good looking for an older man. Anyway, help me figure out what I'm going to say when I tell her."
We spent the next few minutes role playing his big conversation. By the time we were finished he seemed to feel better. I knew from personal experience how complex relationships could be. While I wasn't happy about the breakup, I was proud of him for facing up to a difficult situation. I'd deal with my own feelings later. He thanked me for the help and tossed his empty banana peel into my trash can. "I'm outta here in a few. We've got late practice this afternoon, then the Coach is buying pizza for the team to go over the new playbook, so I won't be home until at least nine."
"Have fun." I spun around in my chair and groaned as I remembered the spreadsheet that was waiting to be finished.
A few minutes passed and I heard the front door close behind him. I grabbed a beer from the fridge before returning to my number crunching. As I tried to work, I couldn't shake the emptiness that came from knowing I might never see Anna again.
"Fuck it," I mumbled out loud, realizing I wasn't going to get anything done now, not after hearing Trevor's news.
My hand reached for the mouse and floated the cursor across the screen, closing the spreadsheet before launching the word-processing program. Finding the directory named "\private\fiction", I double-clicked on the file called 'anna.doc' and waited with a sense of guilty anticipation. The hard drive sprung to life with a whir and the screen filled with the familiar words I'd read so many times before . . .

********************************************************************

Jim,
Here's my attempt at a short story around the fantasy you mentioned. I tried to match the details as best I could based on your descriptions. Hope it's what you were after. Btw, this Anna sounds like a real hottie . . . : )
Enjoy,
~Jack

"My Afternoon With Anna"
by Jack Handee
Copyright, January 2000

As I stood at the sliding glass door watching silently, Anna's presence captivated me in the usual way.
Summers in my part of the country are blazingly hot with the only alternatives for comfort an air-conditioned room or submersion in a swimming pool of cool water. Thankfully Anna had chosen the latter and, even better, it was my back yard she'd picked for lounging on this sweltering afternoon.
I raised the icy glass of tea to my lips, feeling the chilled condensation on my fingertips as I watched her recline onto the chaise-lounge, lifting herself high enough to adjust her scant red bikini bottoms. I must have stood there in silence for five minutes before moving to the refrigerator. I refilled my glass of tea and grabbed one for her before stepping through the sliding glass door and into the oven-like heat.
I wondered if she had fallen asleep, as she didn't acknowledge the sound of my approach. Stepping up next to her lounge chair, I paused, staring down at the hourglass-shaped form that lay before me. Magnificent: she was simply magnificent. I could see my reflection in the mirror of the tortoise-shell Raybans that covered her eyes. The scant bathing suit she was wearing barely protected the most sun-sensitive areas of her body. Small swatches of material that hid her nipples from view were rising and falling with heavy, sedated breaths. My gaze roamed to her flat stomach that glistened from a thin layer of perspiration, as my nostrils drank in the sweet scent of cocoa butter. Lower my gaze fell to the matching red triangle that hid the delicious area between her legs from the harsh rays of the summer sun.
"Is that mine?" she asked, startling me out of my daydream.
My eyes returned to hers. She stared up at me, pushing her sunglasses to a perched position on top of her head.
"I thought you were asleep?"
"Just resting my eyes," she answered, using her hand as a visor to block the sun.
I handed her the glass. "Yes, this is for you. I thought you might be hot."
"Thanks."
She arched herself up on her elbows, taking and sipping the iced tea, before rolling the chilled glass back and forth across her chest. "Is your son gone?" she asked in a throaty voice.
"Yes, he is gone. He'll be gone for several hours."
"So we're all alone?"
"Very alone," I replied.
She stared up at me, her beautiful blue eyes shining with the possibilities. "Do you have sun tan lotion on?" she asked. "If you don't, you might burn. I have some here." She lowered the glass of iced tea to the cool deck beside her chair and held up a dark brown bottle with the words Hawaiian Tropic on the front. "If you want . . . I can rub some on you?"
I smiled and pulled a chair next to hers, dragging my t-shirt over my head and tossing it to the side. She moved to a seated position as I reclined on my back. Smiling that wonderful smile, she held the bottle over her outstretched hand, squeezing out a slender stream of clear oil that formed a pool in her palm.
Gently she touched me, caressing my thighs, the warm oil allowing her hands to skate effortlessly across my skin. "Does it feel good?" she whispered, her fingertips running higher, occasionally drifting under my swimsuit.
I smiled and nodded as I closed my eyes and drank up the summer heat, listening to the sound of more oil filling her hands, squeaking as she rubbed her palms together to absorb the excess. Both hands returned to my thighs, kneading my flesh and riding immediately up and under the flaps of my swimsuit. My cock was thickening with the sensation, as she rubbed harder and deeper. She paused and I opened my eyes to see her reaching behind her back, drawing on the string that held her bikini top in place. With a couple of short tugs, the top fell down her shoulders and into her hands. Her breasts were sensational. Not particularly large, but firm, with thick, puffy nipples that were in pink contrast to the milky white skin previously hidden from view.
"Why don't you pull down your suit?" she purred, throwing the bikini top next to my T-shirt.
I did as I was told, raising my hips and working my trunks down my thighs. Exposed, my hard cock sprang to life, ready for some of the attention that my thighs had been receiving. She grinned in anticipation, pouring more oil from the bottle as I stretched out nude on the chaise-lounge. My body shivered as she touched my knee, rising slowly higher until I ached for more.
I didn't have to wait long as I felt her oil-soaked palm pick up my cock, delivering a slow, sensuous stroke as the fingertips of her other hand massaged my balls.
Within seconds the oil wasn't necessary, as my body was producing all the lubrication required, leaving me moaning and begging for more. Faster she stroked, her young breasts jiggling with the motion of her pumping fist. As my orgasm approached, she eased her grip, then stood up and forced a thumb in either side of her bikini bottoms, teasingly pushing them down her thighs like panties before stepping out to reveal a blonde triangle of pubic hair.
"Can we fuck now?" she asked, biting her lower lip and climbing onto my lap. Hovering over me, she rubbed her pussy up and down my cock . . .

********************************************************************

The story continued, but I didn't need to keep reading. I'd read it so many times before that I could recite every word and every delicious detail of the fantasy. I closed my eyes and paused long enough to push my pants down further as I leaned back in the chair.
Pretty bad, I know: forty-four-years-old and I'm using a telecommuting day to sit at home and jerk off to an erotic story where my son's teenage girlfriend plays the starring role. I suppose I could say that once I got off I could better focus on the other work at hand, which helped to make my actions seem honorable. In truth, this was just one more example of how much I wanted Anna, how my desire for her had consumed me.
"Anna . . . sweet Anna," I whispered out loud, my hips raising from the chair as I pumped faster, my eyes closed, my mind filled with images of our nude bodies coming together under the warm sunshine.
That's when the doorbell rang.
Faster I stroked, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to hold the image of Anna firmly in my mind. My fist wrapped tighter around my cock. I was so close to coming.
The doorbell rang again . . . and then again . . . and finally my hard-on started to fade.
Damn it! I was sure it was one of those kids selling fucking magazine subscriptions. I wrestled my trousers up around my hips, shut down the story file, and stumbled towards the front door. Pausing, I buckled my belt as I stooped down to look out the peephole, expecting to see some prepubescent little brat chewing gum and holding an order pad.
"Holy Shit!" I muttered under my breath.
I stood up quickly, my heart racing as I straightened my shirt. With one last check to ensure my zipper was up, I opened the door.
"Anna, this is a surprise," I said, my breathing as labored as if she'd just walked in and discovered me instead of only ringing the doorbell.
"Hey, Jim. I didn't interrupt anything did I?"
"Interrupt anything?" I answered, trying to find my breath. "No actually I was just . . . I was just finishing up with some work I had brought home. You just missed Trevor, though. He's not here."
"I know. He's got late practice today. Actually, I came to talk to you, if you could spare a few minutes."
"Talk to me? Yeah sure, come on in."
"You're sure I'm not interrupting?"
"I'm positive."
Through all the embarrassing confusion, I hadn't realized how odd her outfit was. Anna had always been an outgoing dresser, using lots of color in her wardrobe, but today she seemed to be pushing the boundaries of fashion. Her sleeveless dress, while very complimentary to her figure, was covered in a bright floral pattern that seemed more like a drapery than an outfit.
It was short--deliciously short for that matter--with a wide yellow belt that encircled her slender waist. Never a girl to wear much makeup, today she was wearing some bright, crimson lipstick. A string of red pearls was laced around her neck with a multi-colored bracelet on her wrist made from beads the size of peanut M&M's.
"You look like you're on the way to the islands," I said with a grin.
She giggled, flashing me that gorgeous smile. "You like? I was actually on my way home from a planning meeting for the upcoming ice cream social. This year's theme is Jamaican and all the members of the steering committee agreed to wear their outfits today. It's not something I'd normally wear, but it's cute, don't you think?"
"Oh, it's very cute."
She paused, seeming hesitant. "Are you okay, Jim?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"
"Uhm, nothing, I guess. You just look a little flushed, that's all."
Damn straight I was feeling flushed. "I'm fine, really."
I followed as she strolled through the entryway and into the living area, brushing the furniture with her fingertips as she walked. God, she did have a beautiful rear end.
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked.
"No, I'm fine."
"So what can I do for ya?"
"Well, I really need to talk to somebody about Trevor and you and I have always been able to talk about other stuff. Talking to you about Trevor is okay too, isn't it?"
"Yeah . . . of course."
She sat on one of the chairs I had in the living room, her dress riding up her hip. Something about her mood was different. She was more solemn than usual, not the energetic social butterfly I was used to seeing.
"I don't really know where to start," she said, her blue eyes looking vacant.
I took a seat on the couch across from her. "Start anywhere."
She filled in some details that I already knew from my earlier conversation with Trevor. The two of them had not been getting along. He was becoming more frustrated from all the social functions she was involved in. She wasn't into the sports as much as he was and that was creating friction.
She talked for about five minutes, then fell silent. "So I've made a decision," she finally said, becoming teary-eyed. "I'm going to tell Trevor that I think we should start seeing other people."
This certainly sounded familiar, I thought. "Wow, I'm sorry to hear that. I always thought you two were so compatible."
"Well, so did I, and when we first started going out, it seemed that we were. But the truth is, we're just really different people and it was only a matter of time before we started to drift apart."
We sat in silence for a minute. I knew based on what Trevor had told me that trying to talk her out of the breakup would only blow up, especially if he found out that it was my idea.
"Well, all I can say is that you're a great girl, Anna. I'm sure you've got a long line of guys who would jump at the chance to fill Trevor's shoes. Being his father, I can tell you that sometimes I don't know what that boy's thinking."
She stood up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Do you have a tissue?"
"Yeah, right here." I reached underneath the nearby table and grabbed a box.
"Thanks, Jim, for listening. You're so nice. You know, the funniest part of this whole thing is that I'm going to miss you probably more than I'll miss Trevor. You've always been so easy to talk to . . . much easier than all my friends' dads."
I had mixed emotions about her comments. Part of me was flattered that she thought so highly of our friendship and enjoyed talking to me so much. Another part was admittedly guilty about thinking of her in the ways that I had.
"Well, I'm going to miss you too, Anna. I'm sure we'll see each other again . . . eventually." I tried to keep my voice light, to hide the emptiness that I was feeling.
Before I had time to react, she had wrapped her arms around my neck in a hug. I was hesitant, keeping my arms at bay. When she didn't pull away, I slowly cupped her waist with my hands. This was the closest that I'd ever been to her physically. I could smell the perfume she was wearing, feel her hair as it brushed my cheek, her breasts as they pressed into my sweater. Without thinking I took more of her into my arms, pulling her closer.
"Anytime you want to talk, I'm here," I said, squeezing her, not wanting to let her go.
"Jim," she whispered in my ear.
"Yes, Anna?"
"You're hugging me so tight I can't breathe."
Quickly I stepped back. "I'm sorry . . . I'm just a hugger."
She laughed. "It's okay. You're a good hugger and I needed a hug. I could use something to drink now too, if that offer's still good."
"Of course it's good."
I moved to the refrigerator and poured us both some iced tea. I returned to find her standing near the sliding glass door, staring out towards the pool area.
"Oh, thanks," she said, taking the glass that I handed her. "You have a really beautiful backyard. Did you landscape it yourself?"
"Yeah, with help from Trevor and a couple of his buddies. It was a lot of work, but it's definitely something we're proud of."
"You should be." She took a sip from her tea. "Those chairs out there . . . is that where you imagined us doing it?"
I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. I stepped up and looked to where she was referring. "Excuse me?"
"Those chaise-lounge chairs next to the pool. Is that where we made love . . . in the story you wrote about us?"
My heart jumped with her words. She continued to stare out the window, avoiding any eye contact. Part of me was sure that I had heard her wrong, but then again, her words were unmistakable. "What story?" I croaked.
She turned to me, her cheeks colored pink. "That story you wrote . . . you know, the one where I rubbed the suntan lotion on you and then we made love."
"Oh my God," I groaned, turning my back and taking a deep breath. I searched desperately for how to respond. I could try to play dumb, but it was obvious she knew about the story, although how, I couldn't imagine.
"Anna, I'm so very sorry," I said, my back still to her.
She walked past where I was standing, resting her glass in the sink before turning to face me, her arms crossed over her chest. "What are you sorry about?"
"How did you know about the story? Nobody knows about that story, not even Trevor. God, at least I don't think he knows."
My heart sank with the realization that he might also have read it. His earlier comments flashed through my mind about wanting Anna. He'd laughed when he'd made them. Was he laughing because he'd read the story? If so, that wasn't the response I would have predicted. To me, having a story like that about somebody so familiar was crossing a forbidden line. I'd rationalized all as fantasy--a very private fantasy--one that I never intended to share with anybody, much less him or Anna. In that way it seemed acceptable. But now that it had been discovered--now what? One thing I did know: I loved my son more than anything in the world and my relationship with him was all I really had to hold on to.
"I didn't tell him about it," she said, drawing me back to the conversation. "If he knows, it's not because of me. Besides, if he'd read it, I think he would have told me and he's never said anything."
The confidence in her voice led me to believe her.
"How did you find it?" I asked.
"I was over here studying with Trevor one night. I'm not sure where you were. Anyway, we were both working on stuff that needed a computer and he said I could use yours if I wanted to work from here. I accidentally saved my book report on your hard drive and when I did a search looking for it--"
"Up popped the story file with the same name."
She smiled. "Yep, I know I shouldn't have read it, but when I realized it was about me . . . I couldn't stop."
I felt stupid for being so careless. Trevor had his own computer, and with only the two of us living in the house, I had no reason to believe that anybody would find that story file and certainly not Anna. "Well, again, I'm very, very sorry."
She smiled. "I don't know why you keep saying that. I was incredibly flattered. But one question--who's Jack Handee?"
She broke into a giggle and I found myself joining in.
"I'm a huge reader, but you knew that," I said. "Eventually I started reading erotica, which led me to the Internet where there's quite a few amateur authors who write and publish erotic stories. This Jack Handee fella has written a few involving older men and younger women, so I wrote and asked him if he could develop a few scenes around somebody I knew. He agreed and I sent him a letter telling him about you, about the idea of us, and he put it into a story for me. I didn't tell him who you are in real life or anything like that, just what you looked like, that type of thing."
"It was that day Trevor and I were over here laying by the pool, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, that's the day that inspired it."
"I thought so." She was starting to blush again. "So you fantasize about me?" she asked in a meek voice.
I was slow to answer. "I have, yes."
She laughed nervously. "That's so cool. I never had any idea."
"Well, I did my best to keep it a secret. It's not very cool to be fantasizing about your son's girlfriend."
She took a couple of steps towards me, brushing her fingertips along the kitchen counter. "I have this friend--this is top secret--you can keep a secret can't you?"
I held up my scout's honor sign and forced a weak smile.
She laughed. "I have this friend who's seventeen. She's having an affair with a guy that's about your age. He's a teacher at our school."
"Wow, a teacher? That's pretty dangerous stuff. Something like that could cost him his career."
"I know, but I'm the only one she's told and she'd never do anything to hurt him. Well, I mean you know too, but we're sort of sharing secrets right now, so that doesn't count. She says that the sex between them is absolutely incredible. Better than any she's ever had and she's been with quite a few guys."
"She's only seventeen and she's been with quite a few guys?"
"Well, not that many, like four. She says it's so good with him because he's so experienced. She says he's always interested in what she wants."
"Well, I suppose getting old is good for something," I smiled. "But back to us and that story. It goes without saying, Anna, that I'll destroy the file. I would ask, in return, that this be our secret. Something that stays just between you and me. You can't even tell your best friend."
"Like a sworn secret?" she smiled, crossing her heart for emphasis.
"Something like that."
"Oh, stop worrying, I'm not going to tell anybody."
I wanted to believe her and, in truth, I really didn't have a choice. She smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the living room. "C'mon."
"What . . . c'mon where?" I said a little nervously.
"I want you to read me that story," she said with a wicked grin.

I followed as she led me into the study. I wasn't sure if this was such a good idea, but since she had already read it herself, what difference did it really make? Actually, to be honest, the idea was somewhat intriguing. I dragged a spare chair next to mine and had her sit down. "You sure you want to see this? It's a little embarrassing."
"Yes, I'm sure! I thought about saving it that night and taking it home with me, but I didn't. I've been dying to read it again ever since I found it."
I waited for the story to appear on the screen and stood up, letting her scoot her chair closer. As she did, I noticed her skirt climbing up her hips, providing a very provocative view of her thighs. I took a deep breath and glanced up to see her staring back at me.
"Busted," she said with a grin. "Do you enjoy looking at my legs?"
"This day is just one embarrassing moment after another, isn't it?" I answered, and we both laughed.
She pushed her chair back. Standing up, she reached down and inched her skirt up, revealing more of her thighs. She continued to pull it higher, until a pair of pink panties came into view. Carefully she sat back down. "If you like looking, I might as well give you something to look at."
I stood next to her, my arm around her shoulder, the voyeur in me drinking up the view of her bare lap. The whole situation that was unfolding was like a scene from one of those 'B' movies. As she read to me aloud, enunciating all of the most erotic parts of the story, I glanced up to a picture of Trevor I had on my bookcase, a photo he'd taken when he made the freshman varsity football team. He was crouched on one knee, his helmet on the ground next to him and a huge smile on his face. I remembered that day and how proud I was of him, how proud I still am of him.
Staring at his picture made the reality of the moment sink in. Fantasy or no fantasy, here I was with his teenage girlfriend in my office, her dress hiked up so I could gawk at her while she read an erotic story that described the two of us making love. While it was an admittedly surreal, very erotic moment, it was also a situation that could mean trouble.
"This part's my favorite," she purred, tapping the screen with her fingernail.
I broke from my trance and followed along. She'd reached the section where I had her pinned onto the chaise-lounge, her thighs draped over my shoulders as my mouth consumed her sex.
"That's one of my favorite parts too," I confessed, feeling my cock stir.
She reached up to my hand resting on her shoulder and stared up at me. "Is this getting you turned on?" she asked.
I was tongue-tied. The simple answer, the physical answer, was yes. But inside I knew the situation was wrong. The fantasy was inappropriate, as was asking somebody to write a story about it. Before I could answer, her hand was climbing up my thigh in search of my zipper.
"Would you like to get more comfortable while you listen to me read?" she asked.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and stopped her from going further. "Anna, you're like no woman I've ever met. I can't even begin to describe the way you affect me. That's why I came up with this idea for capturing my fantasy about you in a story, so that I could live in my mind what I know is forbidden. As much as I would want you . . . I just don't think we should go any further, all things considered."
She pouted slightly. "What things considered? Jim, how many people do you know that can say they've lived out a fantasy? Not many. Best of all, this whole thing has been our secret so far. I haven't told anybody about the story and neither have you, so who will know if we take it to the next level?"
Before I could argue, her fingertips were searching again for my zipper. I took a deep as she dragged it downward, before reaching inside the trouser flap. I shuddered as she searched for my cock.
"You're really bound up in there," she smiled.
Eventually finding what she was searching for, she gently pulled it out of my pants, before moving off the chair and onto her knees. Staring up at me with those blue eyes, that delicious red lipstick only inches from my swelling dick, she whispered. "Remember . . . it's our sworn secret."
I lifted my head and stared at the ceiling trying to find the willpower to do the right thing. I could feel her hand start to stroke me, caressing me into a state of arousal. My hands inched outward, running through her long blonde hair, giving way to the moment as I stared downward, pulling her mouth closer to my growing erection. She recognized my surrender and smiled, slowly teasing her lips around the head before enveloping me with the warmth of her sweet, wet mouth.
I grabbed the edge of the chair for support, my hips gently rocking with her movements as she started to suck. So many times I had imagined how it would feel to fuck her mouth and now I was experiencing every detail. As she took more of my shaft into her throat, wrapping her lips tighter around me, I let go. I relinquished all self-doubt and decided to give into the fantasy, forbidden as I knew it to be. I'd have to trust that it would remain our secret.
I stared down at her as she sucked my cock--all the way in until her nose brushed against my pants, then all the way back until I was weak at the knees. Unable to take anymore, I raised her forcibly to face me, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her passionately. Again, it was a kiss that I had imagined so many times before.
We made love with our mouths, combing and biting, sucking and exploring. My hands traced up and over her small breasts, circling the puffy outline of her nipples through her dress.
"I want to take off my panties," she whispered between kisses.
I leaned into her, nibbling the soft flesh of her neck as I pulled up her skirt. Running my fingertips into the band of her underpants, I pushed them down the curve of her hip, stopping at a midpoint. "I want you to do something for me," I whispered, before running my mouth down her neck.
"That tickles," she giggled, pulling away.
"Will you do something for me, Anna?"
"Maybe . . . what did you want me to do?"
"I want you to get on your knees on the chair and face away from me."
She looked at the chair, then back to me, her eyes filled with hesitance. "What are you going to do?"
"Nothing that you wouldn't want me to do. Trust me when I say that."
A little unsure of what I was asking, she went along with my request, allowing me to guide her into a kneeling position on the chair. With her leaning away from me, I pushed her skirt higher to reveal the small of her back. Pausing to admire her gorgeous ass, I pulled her panties down further and leaned forward, my mouth working downward along her spine while I stroked the inside of her thigh.
"That feels nice," she muttered.
I sank my lips in the baby-soft flesh of her bottom, delivering deep kisses as my fingers glided against her pussy. She was wet to my touch as I slid inside her, paving the way for what would come next. Moving to my knees, I held on to her thighs and burrowed my tongue into her wetness, driving inward as deep as I could go.
"Oh god, Jim," she moaned, her hips rocking against my face with the rhythm of my mouth. "I do like that."
Deeper I penetrated, bathing my face in her juices, breathing her aroma as our lust simmered. We continued for several minutes until I felt the chair she was kneeling on begin to wobble.
"Okay! Okay, enough!" she gasped. "I can't take this."
I helped her down from the chair and she turned to kiss me.
"Your lips are shiny," she said with a smile, brushing them with her fingertips.
I turned her around to face away from me, pulling her hair to the side and kissing the back of her neck as I slid her panties further down and onto the floor. Pressing my cock into the crevice of her behind, my hands roamed across her naked abdomen and down between her legs.
She turned to face me, taking my cock in her hand. "I want to kiss you some more . . . down here, I mean, if it's okay?"
"Okay?" I laughed. "Yes, it's okay."
She grinned and worked loose the button of my trousers before driving them, underwear and all, to the floor.
I pulled down her dress to reveal her breasts and we began to kiss again. "Sit in the chair," she finally moaned, her hands pressing on my shoulders and guiding me backwards.
Breathlessly I sat down. Holding the top of her dress up with one hand, she leaned across my lap and used her other to balance my cock at attention until her mouth surrounded the sensitive head.
"Oh Anna," I moaned. "Sweet Anna!"
Her fingers formed a circle and delivered short strokes as her mouth slid up and down the thick and painfully hard shaft.
I had no idea how much experience she had to be this adept at cocksucking, but I didn't care. Her mouth was simply incredible, delivering a slow, tight vacuum that was leaving me breathless. I stared down at her, pulling her long blonde hair out of the way that so I could watch every detail.
She was moaning as my cock filled her mouth, glancing up at me with those smiling blue eyes before plunging again.
"I don't want to come like this, Anna," I finally gasped.
Eventually she raised up, an intense glazed expression in her eyes as her hand stroked me from top to bottom.
"Can we fuck now?" she whispered between ragged breaths.
I laughed. "You remembered. But I don't have any condoms here."
"It's okay, I'm still on the pill," she whispered, straddling herself across my lap.
I stared into her eyes as I positioned my swollen member at her entrance, rubbing and teasing her sensitive clitoris. Finding the alignment, I took her waist in my hands and guided her body downward as my shaft sank inside her and we began to fuck.
I wrapped my hands around her ass, the ass I had practically worshipped in the past, working her back and forth against my lap. Our moans were loud and her expression was one of intense passion as we ground into one another. She grabbed hold of my shoulders, her fingernails digging into my skin through the sweater I hadn't bothered to remove.
"Harder," she moaned, rocking against me.
Taking handfuls of her fleshy behind, I worked her with all I had to offer until eventually our bodies began to slow. I looked up and she pushed her hair out of her face, throwing it back across her shoulder. "We've got too many clothes on," she panted. "I want to feel more of your skin against me."
"I agree."
Carefully she stood up and I followed. I pulled off my sweater and tossed it to the floor, leaning back into the chair and stroking myself as I watched her get undressed. She teased me, posing and smiling as she disrobed. God, she was so beautiful. I leaned forward and grabbed her hips, pulling her closer and turning her in a circle until she was facing away from me.
"Now what are you doing?" she giggled.
"Just trust me," I said, stretching out and positioning myself to take her from behind.
"I've never done it this way either . . ."
"I'll guide you," I said, positioning, then watching her thighs quiver as my cock disappeared into the wetness of her vagina. We moved carefully at first, but quickly found the rhythm.
I watched as she rose and fell against me, her blonde hair spilling down her back, her warmth surrounding me. The pace of our lovemaking started to increase, our combined moans filling the office. "Oh Jim, it feels really good this way!"
Finally, I grabbed her, pulling her against me until I had completely disappeared inside her. "Anna, I'm close . . . I'm going to need to come pretty soon," I gasped.
She was quiet at first, continuing to move up and down on my lap. "It's okay," she finally moaned. "If you want to come, go ahead."
I could tell she wasn't finished and I wasn't ready for the fantasy to end. "Ease up . . . I haven't come yet, but ease up for just a second."
Her movements slowed and she carefully stood up. I was harder than I could remember being in years and it showed in my purple, swollen cock. I stood from the chair and took her forcefully into my arms.
"Ohhhh, you animal," she smiled. "You want to go in the bedroom and finish?"
"We won't make it to the bedroom."
I thought of taking her right there on the floor, then noticed a decorative chair I had stored in the corner. It was more of a mounded half-cushion with a high back than an actual seat; not particularly comfortable for sitting, but ideal for what I had in mind. Releasing her, I dragged it next to us and we resumed our passionate embrace, our tongues invading one another's mouths. "Lay on the chair," I finally commanded.
She looked to where I was referring and smiled. Adjusting the cushion, she carefully extended herself, spreading her legs as she stared up at me. I came to her, taking her ankles in my hands and widening her thighs into a V, nibbling on her toes, before running my my mouth along inside of her calves.
Finally, my desire overtaking me, I lowered my body on top of hers, rubbing my engorged member against the slick outer edges of her pussy.
"Now, Jim . . ." she gasped.
I positioned myself for entry and pressed my hips forward, sinking into her delicious, wet channel. With my forearms holding her thighs apart, I started again to fuck her, this time with absolute abandon. All the way in, then all the way out--long thrusts that seemed to embody all the emotion I had felt for her from the very first moment we'd met.
Her pelvis was thrashing against me and she was starting to whimper. It was a little-girl whimper, not the lustful moans I'd heard before. I could feel her cunt spasm as I filled her with more of my cock. "Coming Jim!" she gasped. "Oh, god, I'm coming!"
"Come for me, Anna," I moaned in return.
Harder and faster I fucked her as the waves of her orgasm hit. She seemed close to tears, and truthfully, so was I. I continued until I felt her movements start to slow beneath me. I looked down to see her staring up at me, a pleasurable, tranquil shimmer in her blue eyes. "You can come if you're ready," she finally whispered. "It's okay."
I didn't want the fantasy to end, but her words, our eye contact, her beautiful, serene expression pushed me closer and closer to the edge. I lengthened my thrusts, drawing and plunging as the sensations of my own orgasm started to build.
I stared into her eyes one last time. She was watching me intently, waiting for the final climax.
"I'm going to come. Oh, Anna . . . I'm going to come!" I finally gasped.
She smiled and hugged me close, her arms around my back and her legs wrapped tight around my ass. I could feel a surge of incredible intensity as all the passion and emotion I'd felt for her erupted in wave after wave. She held me, comforted me, her fingertips caressing my shoulders, her lips gently kissing my cheek until eventually our bodies were motionless.
We got dressed without saying much. I asked if she wanted to stay for dinner and even offered to cook, but she said she needed to be getting home. We cuddled on the couch for about a half-hour, and then I gave her one last kiss. She pointed out that I would see her at Trevor's games, but I still felt incredibly sad letting her go, knowing that this would be one of the last times we would spend any real time together.
I finished the spreadsheet after she left, threw in a frozen dinner, and was sitting down to a new novel when Trevor arrived home. Seeing him made me feel a little guilty about what had happened with Anna, although there wasn't much I could do to change it now. He dropped his stuff off in his room, then arrived back in the living area where I was reading.
"Play books all square?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation normal.
"Yeah, most are carry-overs from last year. Only a couple of new ones." He was silent for a second. "I saw Anna after practice."
I kept my eyes focused on the book I was reading. "Oh yeah? I thought you weren't going to see her until tomorrow or something."
"She showed up at the pizza parlor and waited for our meeting to get finished."
"Oh, I see. What did she have to say?"
"I think you know what she had to say."
My heart skipped with his comment. I closed the book and prepared for the worst. "I'm not sure I understand?"
"I said that you probably know what she had to say. She was over here this afternoon for one of your little talks."
My mind was a flurry of thoughts, as I felt my palms begin to sweat. "Well, yeah . . . she came over . . . and we talked about you two for a while."
He smiled. "I should have known you'd try to talk her out of the breakup."
"I didn't try to talk her out of it. All I said was--"
"I'm teasing, Dad. She told me that you were disappointed, but that you had a feeling that we weren't going to last much longer. Whatever advice you gave her really must have worked. She was the one to bring up how we were drifting apart and how it probably made sense that we start seeing other people. I didn't have to say a thing."
I swallowed hard in relief, realizing that she'd held to her vow of secrecy after all. "Well, as long as you're both happy."
"Well, she's happy for now. I didn't bother to tell her about Julie. I suspect she won't be too pleased when she finds out about that."
"Yeah, I suppose not."
"Well, I'm hitting the sack, I'm beat." He stood up and started for his room. "Oh yeah, one more thing. I've got a bunch of her stuff that she said she needs. I told her I'd bring it to her next week at school, but she said she needs it sooner. You're going to be around tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good, because I'm going to the lake all day. I told her that she could stop by tomorrow and pick it up. I swear she even acted excited when I told her you'd be here."
"Excited?"
"Yeah. Anyway, she'll be over about twelve. Maybe if you play your cards right, you can talk her into wearing that bikini for you."
"Go to bed, Trevor."
He laughed. "Night, Dad."
"Good night, Son."