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."
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