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Don & Lisa Ch. 01

By: adamgunn



This series is a telling of stories about Don and Lisa from the Dueling Duets Series

A word of explanation needs to be put in here, because this story has been rendered technically obsolete. There was a time - really, there was! - when the Internet didn't exist. There was no World Wide Web. There was no streaming media. And, believe it or not, there was no Hotmail!

Way back then - this was in the early-80's through the late-90's - businesses that wanted to move away from fax, telephone calls and (shock!) actual mail used bulky private systems such as ccMail and Lotus Notes or public systems like Telemail (which later became SprintMail.) You connected to it through dial-up on teletype machines, and then after they were invented, personal computers. Email was incredibly slow, and even more expensive.

This story is about those early days of a huge computer on your desk, and slow, clunky email. I hope you can put yourself back in that time and be entertained by the story.

There are other major anachronisms. Can you find them?



I was the last person to open up my fortune cookie. "Romance will soon blossom," I read to the group.

"But, Don, you're married!" laughed Anne, "you should already have all the romance you need."

"I don't know," smiled Fran, "he might be looking for something on the side."

"If he is, you two better watch out. You could be in trouble," somebody replied, "I've seen that boy in action. He's a fast worker!"

"I think we'd better get back to work," Mike assessed, probably worried about either a sexual harassment suit or lost productivity. The group of nine left the Chinese restaurant and headed back to the office.

To celebrate the end of three months of preparation and the kickoff of our next phase, Mike had taken us out for a Friday afternoon lunch. He was in charge of the computer rollout project. There were four people working directly for him in the pharmaceutical firm, and he had four consultants in this age of 'right-sizing.' Two of his employees were the twins, Fran and Anne.

The year was 1987, and our charter was to supply the large field staff of the company with laptop computers and train them in the rudiments. This was back in the days when a 'laptop' was anything that weighed less than 25 pounds and had a handle. Mike's staff of four people was in charge of setting up the computers and training the staff in the corporate order system; four consultants, who were employees of a training firm, were going to teach word processing, spreadsheets and email. This was in the days before the internet, and there was a public mail system that we dialed into. The way it would work was that teams of two people would travel to a city where we would spend four-days training 10 people in the new-fangled stuff. We'd be on the road 3 out of 4 weeks for the next year, leaving on Sunday nights and returning late Thursday evening. The teams would shift around so that we wouldn't constantly be partnered with same person.

The twins and I had carpooled over to the restaurant, and on the way back they started to taunt me. Fran and Anne weren't really twins; in fact, they weren't even related. But they were both about 5'7", nearly the same body weight and dimensions, medium dark complexions, brunettes, and their facial characteristics were uncannily similar. Both of them had impish dispositions, and were always kidding around.

For example, when we started the project, they both had shoulder length hair. A few days later, they left for lunch about a half-hour apart. When Anne came back, we saw that she'd had her hair cut to a shorter trim. We all joked that we would finally be able to tell them apart, only to be astounded when Fran returned with an identical styling.

In fact, the only true differences was that Fran was four years older than Anne, Anne was a soprano while Fran was contralto, and Fran had a ring on her finger, while Anne's wedding was a few weeks away.

When my wife was out of town, I'd fantasized about them both while masturbating, and once or twice I'd thought I'd made a connection with one of the girls. I would have loved an affair with either (or both) of them, but when you're working in an office with a young lady, you need to be very careful, or problems can crop up easily. Under the circumstances, I figured it was just a pipe dream.

"So," Anne began as soon as the three of us were in the car, "who's your new sidegirl going to be?"

I knew from painful experience that when the twins started teasing you, the only method of survival was to tease back. Otherwise, they just kept at you until you surrendered. "I don't know. Would either of you like to volunteer?"

"That's a great idea!" said Fran. "Let's play rock, scissors, paper to see which one." They both started playing the finger game.

"Hold on," I said, "If you both are willing, I think I should get my pick."

"Well, okay," said Anne, "which one of us do you want?"

"Does it matter? I can't tell the difference between you out of bed. I'm sure you would both be the same in the sack." This got me hit from both sides.

"I'm livelier than she is!"

"Yeah, but I'm hotter. You better pick me if want great sex!"

"Well, how do you know what the other's like in bed? Unless, of course . . ."

"No, I only swing one way," one of them said, "but when I swing, I go high! I hope you own a trapeze!" I was losing, and I knew it. Luckily we pulled into the office parking lot, and I was saved.

About an hour after we got back to work I logged on to the email system, and found a message waiting for me from a mailbox named FORTUNE.COOKIE. Since we all shared administrative privileges, it was impossible to figure out who had created the mailbox. The message read,

Romance can bloom, your fortune told you, and indeed it will as we discussed in the car. If you want to have fun with me, go to the window and talk about the weather.

So the twins were going to continue their joke. I figured I'd call their bluff and let them have their fun. Making my way through the cubicles, I looked longingly out the window and said, "Bob, it's too nice of a day. Let's go play some golf."

"I'd love to, but I still need to pack for our trip to Denver on Sunday. Do you have the Excel slides finished?" Bob was to be my partner for the first week of training, and he was a bit of a worry-wart.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I expected the twins to pop up and start in on me, but they both stayed in their boxes and ignored me. I returned to my desk, and about five minutes later got another message.

Your fortune cookie says, 'Your wisdom is great, and will be rewarded.' Just wait until the first time we are on a trip together. It will be so much fun!

I emailed back,

But what if I don't want to wait that long?

The afternoon dragged on without another message. As I was preparing to leave, I checked my messages one last time, and sure enough, FORTUNE.COOKIE had written back,

Patience is a virtue, and will pay off. Wait for me, my soon-to-be-playmate.

I left the office, wondering what (if anything) was in store, and when (if ever) something might happen.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ Abandon the search for truth; settle for a good fantasy
~~~~~~~~~~

When I got home I fixed my wife a drink and told her about the conversations and messages.

I'd told Lisa about the elaborate pranks that the twins had pulled off. Her favorite was how they'd managed to completely swap cubicles one weekend, and then answered only to each other's name on Monday.

"Could this be a joke? One that's going to make you look ridiculous in front of the staff?"

"It might be. They have this weird sense of humor. But they've never done anything to hurt anyone. This one is so personal that I have a hard time believing it's being done only to let me down, or that they'd embarrass me with it."

Lisa and I had an arrangement, and allowed each other to have other lovers. I'd only had one with our next door neighbor, Jill, but Lisa had been more active. She'd recently been through her fifth guy in three years. I didn't mind, as she was completely circumspect about it, and loved to tell me about her exploits. If anything, I encouraged her to take risks she didn't want to. It spiced up our marriage bed, and kept us from getting stale.

"Well," Lisa observed, "it sounds to me like one of them wants my husband, or maybe it's both of them! Or you're being set up here. If it works out, have a great time, but try not to look like too much of a fool."



~~~~~~~~~~
~ Chaste makes waste
~~~~~~~~~~



After I got back from my golf game the next afternoon, I got a message on my answering machine from Bob. "Don, bad news. My mother went into the hospital, and I have to go to Mansfield to be there. I can't go to Denver. I talked with Mike, and he's going to rearrange the schedules. You better call him. I'll see you next Friday."

I called his house back, but no one picked up the phone. He was probably already on his way. When Mike answered the next phone call, we discussed the situation. "I don't know who I'm going to send," he fretted. "I might have to go myself. Don't worry about it, just get on the plane for Denver, and whoever is there will make contact with you in the hotel." So I put it out of my mind.

At the boarding gate the next afternoon, I looked for one of my compatriots, but no one I knew was around. "Hope I'm not running this show all by myself," I thought.

Arriving at Stapleton in the early spring afternoon, I picked up my luggage and the rental car, and drove to the Marriott a few miles away. At the desk, I inquired about messages, and was handed a slip that read, "Check your email."

Going up to the room that would be my home for the week, I plugged in and logged on. There was only one message, and it was from FORTUNE.COOKIE.

I can't believe we're so lucky, darling. I didn't expect us to be able to be together so quickly. I'm looking forward to the merriment tonight, but I'll be in a little late. Go ahead and have dinner without me.

I called the desk to see if Fran or Anne had a reservation, but it had never been changed out of Bob's name. I went down to the meeting room we'd reserved in the hotel, and began to hook up the computers. Finishing about dusk, I went to dinner, returning an hour or so later. My phone was blinking, and when I called to retrieve the message, all I got was the repetition, "Check your email."

Logging on, a new message had been received from FORTUNE.COOKIE.

I finally made it to Denver, Don, and we can begin whenever you're ready. I'm in the next room. Just email me back.

Was I really going to get lucky, or was this going to be some elaborate joke that I'd be ribbed about forever? I decided I'd follow along. I sent back,

I'm here. What do you want me to do?

Soon, another message came back.

Open up the connecting door between our rooms.

So, if I was reading this right, she was in Bob's room, which was next to mine. I went ahead and opened the portal, only to find the closed door in the other room looking at me. By the time I accomplished the chore, the next message was waiting for me.

I heard the door open. Good. Now, close the drapes tight and turn off all the lights.

Okay, it's dark in here.

Now, turn of the computer and sit in the chair. Just wait there until something happens.

I did as I was asked. The room was completely dark, and as I marked time my eyes adjusted so that I was aware only of the red dot on the smoke alarm and the stripe of light coming from under the hallway door. I was expecting that the door would split open and the mouseketeer would burst into the room laughing and giggling, but instead it cracked very slowly. I could see a woman backlighted by a dim glow from the next room. She was draped in a white bra and panties. She stepped into the room, and closed the door behind her, completely darkening the room. I was positive that only one person had entered the room.

I could hear her footsteps approaching me, and then I felt first her hand on my face and then her lips on mine. We kissed, deeply. I knew at once that this was not a joke, and that this woman, be it Anne or Fran, wanted to make love to me.

"Who are you?" I asked. She took my hand, placed it on her cheek, and allowed me to feel her shake her head 'No.'

"You don't want me to know who you are?" I asked. Her head went up and down. "Oh, you want me to guess which one it is?" Again the head bobbed affirmative.

With that, she pulled me to a standing position and began to take my shirt off. As she disrobed me, I allowed my hands to feel her shoulders and back. As she kissed and licked my chest, I assisted her in taking the bra off, and then began to fondle her breasts; her nipples were crinkled in anticipation.

She dragged me backward to the bed and sat down facing me. After unhooking my belt and unzipping my fly, she let my trousers drop to the floor and pulled my briefs down to my knees. Then she grabbed my very erect dick and I could feel her licking it. I let her treat me for awhile, and then figured it was time to show her that I was at least competent in the art she wanted to practice.

I pushed her back onto the bed, and stepped out of my clothing. I knelt in front of her and kissed her breasts. At the same time, I let my hand slip to her thigh and run up the inside. She spread her legs, and I moved my hand higher to feel her pussy through the panties. I couldn't wait any longer and pulled the underwear down and over her feet. I reached up to feel her mound and found that she had shaved to a point where she just had a strip of hair leading straight up from her clit. As my hand went lower, I felt for the first time the heat of this woman's vagina. It was as if she was on fire, and as my finger dipped into her hole, I was amazed at the lubrication that was already flowing.

I moved my head between her thighs, and she moved her legs to completely surround my shoulders. It was as if she was drawing my entire face into her womanhood. As I sucked and licked her juices, I could hear her intense breathing, but no other sound came from her lips. I felt she was near to orgasm, and soon my mouth was soaked with her moistness. Her legs squeezed me, and I wanted to believe that she was coming. But no noise came from her to indicate it.

I felt her legs loosen my head and she pulled me up, grabbed my penis and guided it into her. I was ready, and tried my best not to come; I wanted thisddfcdark to last as long as possible. But she moved her pelvis in a wild, exciting rhythm, creating such friction and heat that I simply couldn't stand it. She felt me start to come and moved even faster, giving me a wonderful climax. She continued to move her bottom until she was positive I had completed, then gently pushed me back so that I withdrew from her.

She stood up, and so did I. I could feel the heat of this woman's body on mine, and we kissed once again. Then she gathered her garments, moved to the door, and opened it. Again I was briefly treated to a beautiful silhouette, ddfcbacklit2but it was gone as she quickly closed the door behind her.

I went to follow her, but as I opened the door I my side, I could see that she had closed the door on her side. I knocked gently on it, but it refused to open.

I stepped to the telephone and dialed the extension of the room next to mine. I could hear it ringing, but there was no answer. After a few moments, I gave up. How do you communicate with a woman who won't make herself available?

However, in a few moments, the phone rang. I picked it up quickly, and was treated to a woman's voice that I seemed to recognize. "Sir?" came a high voice from the receiver.

"Anne?" I asked.

"No, sir, this is the front desk. I have a message for you from another hotel guest. The message reads, 'Check your email."

I was sure it was Anne, but if it was, she didn't want to admit it; I just said "Thank you." Hanging up, I reconnected the modem and logged on. Sure enough, a recently posted message from FORTUNE.COOKIE was waiting for me.

I hope you enjoyed yourself. I did, tremendously. You're a fantastic lover, and I came twice. I want you again, tomorrow night. May I have you?

I emailed back.

Certainly. As often as you like. But can we get together again tonight?

The response came.

No, it's late, and we both need to be sharp for the class. Sleep, and I'll meet you in the coffee shop at 7:15 in the morning.

I realized that the evening was over. I slipped between the covers, and went to sleep, fantasizing about the woman I'd had.



~ If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?
~~~~~~~~~~ 

I awoke the next morning to the sound of water rushing in the bathroom, and realized that the woman I'd made love to the previous evening was showering. I lazed, remembering her heat, and then rose to begin getting ready to meet my new lover.

When I entered the restaurant, I could see Anne in a booth. She smiled at me, and then I saw a pair of legs sitting across from her. It was Fran. I realized they'd played another joke on me (albeit one I'd really enjoyed,) and that I didn't yet know which one of them I'd had.

"Well," I stammered, trying to be cool, "I didn't expect both of you to be here."

Anne said, "Well, given the circumstances, Mike decided to go to Charlotte himself and that the two of us should teach the company portion in tandem. It should give us a little more experience." The explanation made sense, as Anne had been a little nervous in the training teaching we'd done back at headquarters.

"When did you get in?" I asked, "What did you do last night?"

"We both took the flight after yours, and got here about 8:00. I went up to my room and exercised," Fran said.

"So did I," rejoined Anne. "I bet I got sweatier than you did!"

"Bet you didn't."

They continued on in their sing-song repartee, first Anne's high voice, and then Fran's low inflection. Neither girl gave any indication that she had slipped into my room. I made a couple of stabs to uncover the mystery, ("I've got a great view of the mountains from my room, what do you see from your window?") but it was obvious that the culpable party wasn't about to satisfy my curiosity.

We went over to the meeting room, and set up the room. Both girls seemed to be taunting me with seductive movements as we worked, and I couldn't stop thinking about how hot one of them was inside of their business suits, but didn't know which one it was. I was having a little difficulty with one of the machines, and Anne sat down beside me to assist. Briefly, she touched my hand tenderly. Was it her? But then, Fran came behind us, and I felt her bosom touch my shoulder briefly. I realized that, whichever girl was my lover, the other was in cahoots with the mystery. Soon the sales folk began to arrive, and we began by giving them their PC's and teaching them the rudiments, such as turning it on and inserting a floppy.

Over lunch, I tried to discover who was in the room next to mine by asking first at the front desk, and then phoning the hotel operator. Although they both offered to deliver a message or connect me to the correct extension, neither would tell me which room either girl was in. Oh, well.

The day went by quickly, and by 4:00 the reps were exhausted with new information. They all lived locally, so we closed up the training for the day and allowed them to go home. Anne asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with her. When I agreed, it became obvious that Fran was invited also. We made arrangements to meet in the lobby at 6:00, and head to a local spot.

When I got back to the room, I went on-line and emailed to FORTUNE.COOKIE,

Will I see you later, after dinner?


Don & Lisa Ch. 01



The reply came quickly. She must have been just going online when I sent her the message.

It was so difficult watching you in front of the class. You are so sexy! I wanted to go up and tear your clothes off. I'll see you at dinner, and after it's over we'll come back, dump the other girl, and make some more wonderful love! Is there any request you want to make for tonight?

Yes, I want to see you tonight, to admire all of your beautiful body. May I do that?

You may gaze at all of my body tonight. I promise to hide only a little from you tonight. I'll see you at six.

I stayed in my room until a little after six, and everytime I heard a door slam in the hallway, I would peek out the view hole or open the door to see who was there. But the girl in the room next to mine managed to evade me. Finally, I went down to the lobby to find the girls dressed casually in jeans and similar blouses. This wasn't new, as they really enjoyed looking like sisters. The only difference was their faces, their jewelry and their fingernail polish; Anne's nails were bright red while Fran's were covered with a more demure shade.

We went to a theme restaurant based on an abandoned gold mine. "I always wanted to go down a shaft," Fran remarked.

"I did last night!" said Anne. When I gave her a questioning look, she continued. "Right under my bed. I dropped an earring. It's dark down there, let me tell you!" The suggestive jokes came from all three of us all during dinner. It was warm in the restaurant, and Fran undid a few buttons on her blouse. As she leaned over, I could see a lacy white bra. I wondered if this was the girl. But then Anne also loosened up her shirt, and I could see she was wearing a similar bodice.

When we got back to the hotel, we could hear music playing in the lounge. Fran suggested that we stop in, and Anne agreed. When I told them I was tired and might pack it in, the girls dragged me into the bar. It turned out that we were the only people in the place listening to the jukebox. As I sat in a booth, the girls went over to look at the tunes. Both of them seemed to be waving their posteriors seductively at me as they chose lively music.

First Fran wanted to dance with me, and got very close to me, rubbing her breasts up against me. Then Anne had a chance, and she tried to outdo Fran's provocative prance. As we were dancing (and I was getting quite hot,) I was shocked to see a bright red light on my crotch; then I saw that Fran had a laser pointer (the technology was quite new then) and was highlighting my erection. The next half-hour was spent illuminating each other's erotic zones. Fran, in particular, seemed to enjoy the searchlight highlighting her breasts, ass or crotch. Finally, Fran announced that she'd had enough, and was going to her room. Both Anne and I accompanied her to the elevators. I punched my floor, and Fran hit one that was higher. If Anne got off on my floor, I'd know it was her! But when the lift stopped, they wished me a good night as I got off, and they both continued up.

I went to my room and prepared by washing under my armpits, brushing my teeth and putting a little after-shave on. I turned on my computer and connected to the email service, thinking that the woman would start by emailing me. But after waiting for 20 minutes I heard a knock on the connecting door. I opened it to find a provocative woman who wearing (I assumed) nearly the same outfit I had seen her in last night - only a white bra and panties. This time, however, she had added one more item - a black veil completely covering her head. It was tightly clasped around her throat by a black choker. I let out a despairing groan, thinking that it would, at least, get a giggle. But no sound was heard.

The girl stood there, allowing me to gaze at her. My eyes roved over her seductive body, looking for any clue to her identity. Then I picked it up; the nails on both her hands and feet were the bright scarlet that I'd seen earlier. I considered calling Anne by name, but then realized that she wanted to have a last fling before she married without letting anyone, including me, know who she was. I chose to respect her wishes.

My paramour reached behind her back and the bra fell off. Full bosoms, large aureoles, small spikey nipples. The maiden slowly lowered her panties, allowing me a view of the straight strip of hair leading between her legs that I'd felt the previous evening.

She stepped over to me and began to undress me. When she had me in the same state she was in (except for the headdress,) she made me sit down in the stuffed chair in the corner. She sat on my lap, facing me, just far enough away so that my raging hard on wouldn't enter her. She took one of my hands and put it on her breast, and led the other to her pussy. As soon as I touched it, the heat almost seemed to sear me. I began to finger her, and fondle one breast while sucking on the other. She was feeling my scrotum and shaft while I was attending to her, and I thought we might bring each other off without actual intercourse.

But Anne wedged her knees into the sides of the chair and plunged her sheath onto my dick. Once again, I felt this woman go absolutely crazy with movement, bringing herself, and me, off in a shot. My cock felt so good surrounded by her hot, wet pussy that I couldn't keep myself from coming and soon sent a wet stream of sperm deep into her. She continued to gyrate wildly on top of me until she began to feel my erection begin to soften. Then, she slowed her movements and hugged me. Her mouth was close to my ear and I could listen to her breath escaping in pants - but she never uttered a word.

Soon she gingerly got off the chair and walked into my bathroom. Coming back with two dry washcloths, she cleaned first my crotch with one, and with the other wiped her sopping vagina. She handed the second cloth to me, picked up her clothes, and walked to the connecting door and once again closed it behind her.

Within seconds, I could see an email arriving on my computer.

That was fantastic. You were so full of semen. I loved it. I'm sniffing your scent on the washcloth now. You smell so good. Are you inhaling me, too?

Yes, it's wonderful. I'd like to come in to your room and eat you so that I can get an even better fragrance.

No, we can't. I just want to be your mystery woman. Good night.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ She offered her honor; he honored her offer
~ So all night long he was on her and off her
~~~~~~~~~~

At breakfast the next morning, Anne joined me while Fran slept in a few minutes longer. I asked her if she enjoyed herself last night.

"Boy, did I. You're a great dancer. I thought you would be, and now I'm sure of it. I've got just a little problem, though."

"What's that."

"My boyfriend is very jealous; I'm sure you understand. If he knew I was close dancing with you, I think he'd be upset. Can we keep it just our little secret?"

"Of course. You know I enjoyed it too. You move so well!"

"It's too bad to think that we'll never dance again after this trip, though."

"Well, we just have to live for the day. Would you like to go dancing again tonight?"

"I'd love to," she said.

After the morning's lectures and labs, we telephoned back to the office, and Anne got to lunch late. "Bad news, gang. I've got to go home. The director needs a report on our progress in a hurry, and Mike can't make it back from Charlotte. He told me to head back as soon as I can and start working on it." Since I was teaching email that afternoon, it made sense for Fran to take Anne to the airport for a 5:30 flight.

At the break, Anne got me off in a corner and said, as unobtrusively as possible, "I really enjoyed myself this week, Don. It's really too bad, I wanted a couple of more dances with you."

"So did I. Perhaps the next time we're on the road by ourselves . . .?"

"Well, by then, I'll probably be married. It just won't work. I'm afraid that this is the end of what we had. But thank you very, very much."

"The pleasure was mine just as much."

Fran came over to us, disturbing the tete-a-tete, and said, "Hey, Anne, if we're going to get you on that flight, we've got to be leaving soon. Don, do you want to have dinner tonight?"

"Sure," I said, wondering if she could sense my disappointment. "Let's hook up when you both get back."

I taught class the rest of the afternoon, and it ended very late, as some of the sales reps weren't getting it and wanted to stay and practice with me. I expected Fran to join me, but she never did. I finally got rid of the last trainee and went up to my room and phoned the operator who connected me to Fran. "Hi, I finally got back," I said.

"Good, are you ready for dinner?" the familiar contralto answered.

"Sure, I'm bushed though, let's not make it a big one."

"Okay," she said, "give me a half hour to do some stuff here in the room, and then I'll phone you." I agreed and hung up.

I logged on, hoping to find a message from FORTUNE.COOKIE, but there was nothing. "She's probably still in the air," I thought.

About 5 minutes before I expected Fran to call me, I heard a knock on the door. Opening it, a gentleman in a funny looking uniform said, "Room Service."

"I didn't order anything."

"Mrs. Wilson ordered it, sir. May I bring it in?" I figured Fran had decided that we didn't need to go out, and that she'd be joining me soon.

"Sure," I said, "go ahead."

He came in, and set up the table with two places. Fran had ordered shrimp cocktails, spaghetti in olive oil and a bottle of white wine. It was fine with me; Fran and I had eaten enough times together (usually with Anne!) that she knew what I liked. He left, and I phoned Fran again, through the operator, but just got a busy signal. "Now that the game is over," I thought, "I've gotta get her room number."

A few moments later, I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, there was no one there. I figured Fran was playing another trick on me. But soon, I heard another knock. This one wasn't coming from the front door. Opening the connecting door, I found a beautiful girl, dressed as she had been the previous nights, including the veil. My Anne hadn't left after all!

"May I come in? Again?" she asked, and then curled up into my surprised arms. I was confused, as the voice was low.

"Fran?" I queried.

"It's me, my lover," she replied, removing the veil.

"It was you?"

"Yes, both nights. Did we fool you?"

I tried to pretend that I knew it was her the whole time, but she tickled me until I confessed that I thought she was Anne.

She asked me to strip to my briefs, which I did, and poured the first glass of wine. We sat down to the table to begin our dinner. The giant shrimp were typical hotel quality, rubbery and straight. Looking at this grotesque object, Fran said, "I've heard that women taste like fish. Do I taste like this?"

"I can't remember. I've only tasted you the one time. Let me check." Holding one of the shrimps, I crawled under the table, removed her panties, put my head between her legs and tasted first her pussy and then the shrimp. "Nope, you don't taste like you've ever been frozen," referring to the temperature of her hot cunt. For awhile, I continued to go back and forth between her clitoris and the shellfish, until I got her to a point where she was very interested. Then, on a whim, I put the shrimp into her and used it as a dildo. In no time at all she started squealing - short, sharp shrieks unlike any I've heard from a woman before. As she calmed I went back to my chair.

"Now let's see what you taste like." I moved around so that she could have full access, and as she knelt in front of me I allowed her to strip off my briefs. "I'm still hungry" she said, and with that took some strands of spaghetti and wrapped them around my dick. Placing her mouth in position, she began to nibble the pasta, and my tool in the process. She alternated between sucking my cock, and rubbing it with the olive oil. It didn't take long until I ruined the pasta by putting more sauce on it. "That's one way to improve this food!" Fran laughed.

Neither one of us was really hungry anyway, so we gave up on the unappetizing meal, and began in earnest on each other. I found that Fran was an eager, uninhibited lover, and she encouraged me to do anything I wanted with her, and thought up things to try on her own. We screwed for about 2 1/2 hours, and then fell exhausted together in the disheveled bed. Fran slept with me that night, and woke me about 5:00 in the morning - this time, we made slow burning love, sometimes with me on top and others with her in the commanding position.

The third day of classes went pretty much as expected, although I was constantly undressing Fran in my mind as she lectured in her blue business suit. This was our last night in town, and the reps decided to thank us by taking us out to a nice restaurant that evening. It was the kind of thing that you can't refuse. I enjoyed myself, but couldn't spend any time talking intimately with Fran.

Back in the hotel, Fran accompanied me up the elevator and to the doors of our rooms. Before opening hers, she flowed into my arms and kissed me. "Don, I've really enjoyed the last three nights but . . ."

I've been kissed off before, and I figured she was cutting it off clean. I was a little disappointed, but wasn't hurt by it. "You're tired of me already?" I smiled.

"Oh, hell, no. No, I've had such a great time, and I really want to continue this. . ."

"Well, come into my room again, then!"

"If you really want me to, I will. But I'm a little sore with all the exercise. And I have to pack up to leave tomorrow. If I come into your room, I know I won't want to leave for at least a couple of hours. What I want to ask is if we can skip it tonight, and see each other again the next time we're partners."

I agreed, and actually was a little relieved. Although I had to pack too, all the sex this week had sucked me dry; I'd been wondering how good I'd be.

Class ended at noon the next day, and we were able to catch a 4:00 flight home, which didn't get us back to our Eastern city until just about 9:00. Fran had carpooled to the airport with Anne, so she asked me if I'd drive her home. I was glad to help her out. She made me stop in at the side of a residential road a couple of blocks from her house, unzipped my pants and went down on me, just enough to give me a raging hard on. She let me finger her through her pantyhose while she played with me. "Take that home to your wife. My husband will want to know why I'm hot so quickly. I'll let him guess the truth."

As I drove the couple of blocks, I got the impression that Fran and her husband had an arrangement like Lisa's and mine. I asked her if she was going to let him know all the details.

"Yes, except for your identity, if you don't want me to. I've had a couple of flings, and he's cool with it. He gets really hot listening to me tell him what I do with the other guys. Over here, where the light is on." Squeezing my hand she said, "Can't wait until the next time," then got her luggage out of the back seat and went into the house.

Lisa was waiting for me when I got to our house, in a new negligee in front of the fireplace. It didn't take me long before I was ready to satisfy her. I knew that Lisa was wondering what had happened to me during the week, but didn't ask. Part of our agreement was that Lisa didn't have to tell me about her affairs until they were over. This was fine, as Lisa never spent much time with a guy. Lisa was giving me the same courtesy, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't be through with this one for quite some time, so I'd better let her know the story sooner, rather than later.

We cuddled at fireside, and I filled her in on what had happened, keeping the identity of the girl a secret, just as Fran had done with me. Lisa handed me a dildo and got me to play with it inside of her. She can easily have multiple orgasms, and I could see the story of Fran's deception was intriguing her; I had to stop my yarn several times while Lisa orgasmed.

At the conclusion, Lisa asked, "So the twins set you up, huh?"

"I'm sure of it. Anne was pretty provocative, and she hid her room number from me as well as Fran did. Monday night, they had matching bras on; I don't think that was a coincidence. Fran redid her nails before coming into my room. And then, the talk about dancing was full of double entendres."

"Do you figure that you and Lisa will go on for awhile?"

"Possibly. Unless you don't want me to have a long affair."

"On the contrary. I've felt a little guilty having the other guys while you sat out. This will make me a lot easier, knowing that you're getting something on the side. Not that I've got anything going right now, but it will give me a clearer conscious. Now tell me again about the spaghetti." As I did, she climbed on top of me and I spent into her again.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ Two's company, three's an orgy
~~~~~~~~~~

Fran, Anne and I saw each other the next day, a Friday. The way the program was set up, we spent early Friday morning doing expenses and other paperwork, and then had a staff meeting at 10:30 to talk about problems and issues. Management knew we were going to put up with a lot of traveling during this program, so they decided that we could have Friday afternoons off as long as our work was done. Fran let everyone know that she had plans to take her 3-year old daughter to the zoo that afternoon. I figured that she was telling me that we wouldn't get together while we were in town. That was okay by me. But Anne did ask loudly in the meeting if there was any good Italian food in Denver; Fran shot a rubber band at her.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ Do infants have as much fun in infancy
~ as adults in adultery?
~~~~~~~~~~

I left for Miami Sunday night, and Fran flew to Chicago. I set up an email account called TEA.SPOUT. Fran liked the name, because it reminded her, she said, of how I spill all over things. We traded love letters (love emails? doesn't sound right, does it?) through the aliases. Fran is fond of funny little sayings, and any day I didn't get my 'sex fortune' I knew she was either really busy or down about something.

I didn't have to go on the road the next week, but Fran was in Minnesota. Friday morning, once again, Fran announced she was heading out early; Anne left soon thereafter. I was sitting in my cube, and the phone rang. "Hi, sweetheart," came the chuckle, "It's Fran."

"Hello!"

"Listen, do you have any big plans for the afternoon? I'd like to get together, if you want to."

"Sounds good," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral so the gang around me wouldn't know what was going on.

"Okay! I've borrowed an apartment." She gave me the address. "How soon do you think you can get here?"

"Give me 45 minutes or so. I'm just about done here."

"I can't wait!" she breathed into the phone.

I found the second floor apartment easily enough, and Fran gave me a fiery kiss as she closed the door behind me. We moved to the couch, and our hands began discovering each other's body once again. We were going hot and heavy at each other when the door swung open, and a high voice called out, "Hey, break it up you two!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked Anne, trying to straighten up. Fran just sat there, with her blouse open, smiling.

"Hey, I live here. But I bet I know what you're doing here!" she giggled, looking at the disarray. "And guess what I brought - Chinese!"

The three of us ate lunch together, and the girls were busting my balls about how I'd been set up first in Denver and then here in Anne's apartment.

"About six weeks before the training started," Anne began, "I was watching Fran make silly eyes at you. I asked her if she was planning on doing anything about it. She said she'd like to, but she didn't quite know how to start it. I can't believe you never had an affair at work before!"




Don & Lisa Ch. 01



"And you have?" I asked Anne.

"Sure, but you have to guess who with! Anyway, I figured I'd help a Fran out, and we looked for a good opportunity to ambush you. We finally got you to carpool with us that day, and when you got that neat fortune cookie, it was all over."

"Then, when the travel plans for the first week changed," Fran continued, "Mike wanted Anne to go with you. But she suggested that I go to Denver, instead. Mike thought about it for a little while, and then decided that we should both make it. We planned the whole thing out on the plane."

"Boy, were you confused that first Monday morning," Anne laughed. "You didn't know what was happening at breakfast!"

They continued to rip me until the meal was finished. Then Anne got up and said, "I gotta go to a wedding gown fitting. You two are welcome to stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home."

Fran and I started attacking each other once again. This time, she led me into the bedroom, disrobing along the way. By the time we were at the bed, we were ready to go. Fran pushed me on to the bed and climbed on top of me, letting me enter her heat once again. As she was moving her hot bottom on my cock, she brought her toes up to my mouth and got me to suck on them. She was rocking back and forth on my pelvis, letting my dick massage the interior of her cunt. Soon, I was exploding my sperm into her, and she was spending with me. Fran rolled off of me breathlessly. I went into the bathroom, got a wet washrag and came back to bathe my lover's genitals. Fran allowed me to view her pussy unashamedly, and then got up from the bed to return the cloth to the bathroom.

Returning, she peeped into Anne's closet and said, "ooh, that's nice." She disappeared into the closet reappearing a few moments later in a black see through body stocking that fitted her perfectly. She walked a little, modeling it for me, letting me see how it shaped her breasts and buttocks. Seeing how I liked it, she returned to the closet and tried on three or four more of Anne's sexy outfits.

Finally, she came back to the wearing a pair of crotchless panties. I moved between her legs and tasted her hot cunt. Once again, it felt like it was burning my nose as I poked it in to get a great whiff. In no time at all, my nibbling and licking had her coming again. Then I moved her into a kneeling position on the bed and entered her from behind. This time, I was slow and gentle. We made it last for fifteen minutes or more. It seemed like she had one rolling orgasm after another, until finally I couldn't stand it any more and allowed myself to spurt.

We left Anne's apartment twenty minutes later or so. Fran told me we wouldn't be able to use this place again, as Anne would be leaving in a three weeks, right after her wedding. It didn't matter to me, as I figured I had a surprise for her!

~~~~~~~~~~
~ Kinky is feathers; perverted is the whole chicken
~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later, Fran and I found ourselves together on a plane for Phoenix. Unfortunately, there were weather delays, and we didn't get in until nearly midnight. Although it was clear that we both wanted each other, we decided that if we did anything that night we'd be wiped the next day.

The next evening, Fran told me she'd take me someplace nice for dinner, but casual. She drove the rental car into Scottsdale and then up the mountain road into Carefree where we stopped at a BarBQ for dinner. The place was dead on a Monday night, and after dinner, she continued up the mountain and turned on a couple of roads, finally finishing on a dirt path. As we came over a rise, we were treated to a beautiful view of the Valley of the Sun that was bathed in the last light of the day with the lights beginning to come on.

We got into the back seat, and I watched as Fran undressed. Then she did the same as I stripped. Neither of us had made love in a car in years, and neither of us were small. We had to move constantly to pleasure each other and avoid charley horses. But the frivolity that Fran brought to the situation brought us both to exciting climaxes in the desert.

When we returned to the hotel, I accompanied Fran to her room, and figured she'd invite me in to spend the night. But she turned me away at the door with a kiss, and told me she'd surprise me another time. By now I was beginning to understand that my paramour enjoyed the situation as much as the sex, and allowed her the whim.

I was awakened the next morning by the ringing phone while it was still dark out; I looked at the clock and saw it was only 5:15. I figured the desk had made a mistake and I was ready to chew them out. But it was Fran. "Come on down to my room. You've got to see this."

When I got there the door was cracked and I walked in. The room was on the opposite side of the hotel from mine, and I saw Fran in a yoga position on the bed, silhouetted by the first light of dawn coming through the open picture window. For the next hour we made love and watched the sun peep over the mountains. Fran enjoyed this so much that I came to her room at the same time the next two mornings.

One night that week, we were at dinner, and I asked her for more details about her life at home. Fran told me how she had married her husband 8 years ago. They were sort of opposites; he was moody, and Fran felt that she was able to help him by being lighthearted. On the other hand, he assisted her by keeping her feet on the ground. Except right at the start, sex had always been okay between them, if a little boring.

After they'd been wed 3 years, Fran got pregnant. It had been a difficult time, and in the fourth month, the doctor advised her to give up sex for the duration. A few weeks after she delivered a fine, healthy baby girl, Harry didn't seem to be much interested in continuing their sex lives, although he would boink her ineffectually from time to time. Sometime later, it came to light that Harry was having an affair with a coworker. Fran initially was very upset, but then they talked about it, and decided that, rather than get a divorce, they'd simply allow each other to have sex with other people. She'd had three affairs since then, all short, and her husband had a couple. It worked out well, and since they liked to talk about their other lovers during romance, their sex life together livened up, until it was fine now.

She quizzed me, and I told her our similar story. We postulated that quite a few married couples our age, perhaps as much as a quarter, had similar arrangements.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ Don't sweat the petty things, just pet the sweaty things
~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of weeks later, Fran and I found ourselves on a down week together for the first time. Because of the tough traveling we were doing, the bosses didn't mind if we took liberties, such as coming in late or long lunches. We went for lunch on Tuesday, and Fran said, "I'm horny. Let's go get a motel room."

"I've got a better idea." I led her to a pay telephone, and dialed my wife's number at work.

With Fran standing nearby so that I was sure she could hear every word, I talked with my spouse. "Lisa, yeah it's me . . . Were you planning on coming home during the afternoon today? . . . Well, I sort of wanted to use the house . . . Sure, it's Fran . . . Cool, I'll see you this evening. Love you."

Fran was astounded. "You mean your wife doesn't mind if you bring me home? Harry knows I'm seeing you, but he'd have a shit fit if he knew we were in our bed together."

I drove Fran home, gave her a tour of the house, and offered her a drink. As I made it, she excused herself. I figured she was going to the powder room. When she wasn't back in 10 minutes, I went looking for her. She wasn't in the hall bathroom, nor was she in the one in our bedroom. I figured we were playing hide and seek, and finally found her behind the door in the guest bedroom, sipping on a beer. But she slipped away from me, saying "You have to get me undressed before you can have me!" We chased each other around the house, alternately letting the other person take our clothes off and then resisting until we were both naked, and then had wild sex on the kitchen counter.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ I think sex is better than logic, but I can't prove it
~~~~~~~~~~

Fran and I continued our affair through the fall and winter, sleeping with each other in Atlanta, New Orleans, Cleveland, on the Coast and occasionally spending an afternoon with each other when we were at HQ. Once we went to a beach on a warm November. Fran surprised me by completely stripping by the deserted beach house, and we screwed, worrying about splinters on the seat. She's like that.

Our company lost the bid to take on the second phase of training, and Mike held a luncheon for us on the last Friday. Fran didn't make a fuss over me, as was typical; I don't think anyone in the office, other than Anne, ever suspected we were lovers.

I returned to pack up my things, and checked my TEA.SPOUT email for the last time. Sure enough, there was one last message from FORTUNE.COOKIE.

Love has blossomed. Have fun with it, and it will never die.

I reluctantly purged the message, and terminated the account.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ One man's idea of cruel and unusual punishment
~ is another man's idea of a great weekend
~~~~~~~~~~

I called Fran a couple of weeks later, and suggested that we should get together sometime. She readily agreed, but told me to wait for awhile. She thought Harry was getting a little jealous.

The next Saturday, Lisa told me she was taking me out for dinner. We went to a nice restaurant, and were led to a table for four. A little while later, Fran and her husband walked in and were led to our table. Fran seemed as astounded to see me as I was to see her. Lisa and Harry had set the whole thing up. They each wanted to meet their spouses' lover, and each other.

We had a pleasant meal, and although nothing was baldly stated, it was clear that Lisa and Harry didn't mind if we continued our affair. On the ride home with Lisa, I asked her what she thought of Harry. "He seems to be a nice man," she observed.

"Well, would you like to have an go-around with him?"

"No, he's not really my type. A bit of a cold fish, if you know what I mean."

"That's too bad. I think a foursome could be fun."

"So do I, with the right couple. Oh, if you really want me to, I'm sure I could seduce him . . ."

"Only if you want to, my dear. Sex should always be fun, don't you think?" She agreed with me, and although we've had dinner with the Wilson's three or four times since, I don't think Lisa and Harry have ever gotten together.

Fran and I continued our affair for another six months or so, and then one day when we were romantically involved at my house I playfully remarked that she was getting a little chunky. "I should, I'm four months gone." I knew it wasn't mine, I'd had a vasectomy years before. "Oh, I'm sure it's Harry's," she said contentedly, "and what's more, this time I'm as healthy as a horse. My obstetrician told me I can continue to have sex until I'm well into the last trimester. Hey, what's that puny thing down there?"

We snuck off with each other once or twice a month until she was nearly due, and then we just sort of stopped. We kept in touch, of course, and Lisa and I even visited her in the maternity ward. Eight months after the delivery, she still hadn't given me a signal that she wanted to continue. I figured it was over.

One evening, while Lisa was out of town on a business trip, the doorbell rang. I answered it, only to hear in that familiar contralto, "Here's the pizza you ordered, sir!" She was back! Harry was babysitting the kids, and Fran and I screwed until midnight.

About a year later, Harry got a good job offer up in Boston, and they moved. Whenever I'm in the area, I give Fran a call. If she can get free, she does. Once, I even stayed at their house, and Fran crept into my room late at night.

~~~~~~~~~~
~ A penny for your thoughts, $20 to act them out
~~~~~~~~~~

Some women are to marry, and some women are for fun. I'm lucky to have two of those.





Don & Lisa Ch. 02



Seventy Five! I think 75 is a milestone, don't you? Particularly when my final objective is only 100. I'm three quarters of the way there.

On the way to what, you ask? My 100th guy. I designed a stickpin just for the occasion. It's the symbols of the two sexes, interlocked and made out of platinum for, of course, 75. The center of it is a ruby for my red hair. I had two of them made. When I showed them to my husband Don he asked what I was planning on doing with them.

I told him my plans were to wear very sexy panties, and pin the first one right over my crotch, so that the guy would find it and I could explain the significance of that particular screw. Afterwards, I'd give him the other one, as a memento. Don thought I had it pretty well thought out.

For nearly a year, I've been looking for the perfect guy. He'd be tall, handsome, exciting, and suave. Those in are addition to my normal qualities of safe, clean, responsible, persistent and confidential. A man like this, of course, doesn't happen by every day. I've even let a couple of chances pass, waiting for just the right stud. (No big deal, those guys will be available, I think, for numbers 76 and 77.)

But things don't always go as planned, do they? Here's my quandary - Is the last guy my 75th? And, if so, what do I do with that jewelry? Let me tell you the whole story.

Doreen was a virgin. There is absolutely no doubt about that one. She was a virgin when we met as roommates that first day of college, and if she wasn't a virgin on her wedding day, it's only because she and Alan knew they'd be together, monogamously, for the rest of their lives.

Doreen was, and still is, my best friend. She knew all about me, particularly about how I wasn't a virgin. She found out that the hard way.

About six weeks after our freshman year started, I took a guy back to our dorm room. Of course it was illegal, and if I got caught, I'd get shipped back to Podunk. But I knew that if they sent back every girl who did it, the Senior Class would be all men. Except, of course, for Doreen.

So there I am, lying on my bunk with this guy. It's the middle of the afternoon, and I know we'll be okay because Doreen's got a math class. We've just finished a great screw, and he's laying on his side while I'm on my back, and I've got my hand down playing with his dick, hoping it'll come to life again. The door opens, and in walks Doreen. She looks at him, she looks at his thing, she looks at me, she looks at his thing again, gives a little shriek, and backs out of the room, closing the door behind her. Other than Alan, that may be the only real live cock she's ever seen.

Later on, we catch up with each other. She's a little peeved, not because she couldn't come into the room, but because she's worried I'm going to get pregnant. I explain the birds and bees and condoms and spermicides to her, and let her know that it can't happen. (It never did, either!) We make a pact - she won't judge me for what I am, and I won't try to force her into my lifestyle. I did promise her that I'd never take another guy into our dorm room again, and I kept that promise. Luckily, we only spent three semesters in there, and then we rented an apartment with separate bedrooms. After that, she just banged on the wall when we got too noisy.

Doreen was with me the night when I found out what I wanted to be when I grew up. A bunch of us were sitting around and a guy I was in the process of trying to gently dump figured out he wasn't welcome anymore, and called me a whore.

Vanessa looked at him, and in her best slave accent said, "Sheeeittt, that girl ain't no hoe. You have to have at least a hundred guys 'foe you a hoe. An' from what I seen, Tom-boy, you ain't worth no hundred, sweetcakes!"

We all laughed, but I took his crack personally. To get even with him, I went to another party where I knew his best friend was, pretended I was drunk, and got him to take me to their room. When we got there, I let him make out with me, and let him strip me down to my bra. I got his thing out, and gave him a handjob. My timing was perfect. Just as we were wiping it off Tom's sheets (I made sure we were on his bed!) Tom walks in and 'catches' us. Screaming and shouting ensue, I tell them they're both lousy lays, and I walk back to the party, laughing my ass off.

But the next day I start to feel a little guilty, and I get to thinking about what Tom and Vanessa said. Was I a whore? I was just starting to understand how much I like the varieties and vagaries of different men, and I decided that a objective of one-hundred men in my life was not only realistic, but would be one heck of a goal. I made up my mind right then and there that I would bag my limit.

That day, I started keeping a list of the different men I'd been with. It wasn't much of a chore then - it was just springtime in our freshman year, and Tom was only my fifth conquest. Since then, I've been very meticulous, and kept a detailed list of every guy I've been with, along with dates, ratings and degrees of kinkiness. Here's the summary:

High School - 2

College - 11 (I don't count Tom's roommate, I never fucked him.)

After college - 7

My first husband, Ray - 1

During my first marriage - 8

During my divorce - 35 (helped by a couple of very good orgies! ) 

[for more details, see the footnote at the end of the story]

My second husband, Don - 1

During my second marriage - 9

That's a total of 74 guys I've been with. I only count guys that come in one of my three holes, although I've never had a guy in the back door that didn't come in the front, too. I do count a couple of guys who only got a blowjob; that's almost as personal as being in my cunt, and both of them would have been invited to head on down below if they'd wanted to. Now the question is, does my latest guy count as my 75th, or am I still searching?

Oh, what's this about all the screwing during my marriages? Well, during the first one, I was young, and didn't have it figured out how jealous a man could be. Or maybe I just didn't care. It doesn't matter, either way it's my fault.

Doreen tried to warn me. She told me I wasn't ready for a wedding, even though she'd been married over a year, and was pregnant with her first daughter. She told me I wasn't stable enough, that I'd hurt Ray, and then, when I did go through with it, she told me to my face on my wedding day not to screw around.

Of course I didn't listen to her! In the two years Ray stuck around, I had round heels, as my record shows. And I wasn't very smart about it. When Ray found out, it was pretty much over. And then Doreen held my hands, and let me cry on her shoulder, and didn't even tell me she told me so.

Doreen was aware of my prodigious record between my marriages, and again, just tried to make sure I didn't get hurt. Which I didn't. At all. Then, when I found Don, and just stopped fooling around because I was happy with what I'd found, Doreen was ecstatic, and again stood as my bridesmaid. This time, she didn't give me a lecture, but she did tell me she didn't have to!

A few years later, Don began an affair, with my support and blessing. A few months later, I reciprocated with his assistance. Since then, we've had an open relationship. We both have affairs, and tell each other about them. For the last three years, we've even had another couple, Dave and Judy, who are sort of like our mutual fuck buddies. It's nice - I get to scratch my itch two or three times a year, and nobody gets hurt.

Both of us are very circumspect. We watch out who we have fun with, and try to make sure that no one gets hurt. So far, I don't think anyone has. And no one, I think, other than the people we have fun with, knows about our secret lives.

No one, that is, except Doreen.

After my first conquest broke up (he was a guy in our hometown who I was on a committee with,) I was looking around for someone else to do it with. Luckily, our college reunion was coming around. I go to it every year, as do about 60 or 70 others, including Doreen. Rich was a semi-regular, hitting it every few years.

I met Rich in college when I was dating one of his best friends during our junior year. I'd learned my lesson from Tom, and didn't take Rich to bed, even though both of us liked each other a lot. I figured I'd let the summer take its course, and then make a play for him in our senior year. But while he was doing an internship, Rich found himself a girl (who he eventually married,) and we never did get together.

Rich was still married, but when we got together, we always kidded each other and had a lot of fun. Once, during the years when I was being faithful to Don, we started to make out at the get-together, but I stopped it pretty quickly. It was clear, however, that if I ever had the inclination, Rich was willing to help me out.

So I called Rich up where he worked, and it didn't take him long to figure out why I was so interested in if he was going to go that year. We made plans to reach the campus a day before the official festivities began. (Yes, just to satisfy your prurient interests, Don didn't accompany me that year because he knew I was going to be otherwise occupied. Although I'm not absolutely positive, Rich's wife may have allowed him the same privilege.)

Late in the afternoon, I checked into the campus hotel, where all the alumni stay. The clerk said, "Oh, yes, Suite 209." When I took my luggage up there, a dozen roses awaited me, as well as a bottle of champagne on ice. The bedclothes were drawn down, and a beautifully wrapped package awaited me on the pillows. I opened it and found a midnight blue bra and panties set. Also enclosed were a dozen condoms and a note that read, "Slip these on, call me in room 211, and I'll slip one of these on. Love, Rich." Of course I realized that he was right next door, and so I took some time primping myself and getting myself into the getup. I banged around a bit, making sure that Rich knew I was in the room, and when I was ready, first I silently opened the interlocking door and then unwrapped a rubber. I called him, and when he answered, I told him to come on into my room. He came in, dressed in a matching pair of midnight blue french-cut briefs, and I let him chase me into the corner of the room. He grabbed for me, and I reached down, unleashed his tool, slid the condom onto it (he was as ready as I was,) and let him skewer me with my back to the wall. He had good control of himself and we bumped and grinded for three minutes or so. Three minutes is a long time in that position. Then we slid onto the couch and I climbed on top of him to finish both him and myself off. It was a great first fuck, spontaneous, quick and totally satisfying. When it's like that the first time, you can't wait for the second to find out if it'll still be as good.

We just sat there, sort of cuddling and sort of making out, and he stripped me of the lingerie. When we were both naked, Rich opened up the champagne and poured the wine directly out of the bottle into my mouth. When I began laughing and letting the beverage slip out of my mouth, Rich licked it up, and then began pouring it all over me, licking it up where it spilled. He had great tongue action, and after he got done with my nipples, he poured it lower and lower. Finally, he got to the good part, and I tilted myself up so that my pussy could hold quite a bit of the champagne without spilling it. He licked three or four helpings out, and then started on me proper. Rich knew just where my prominent button was, and what to do with it, and, like the good mistress I am, I came properly for him.

Then, of course, it was my turn. I got a glass, filled it, dunked his limp penis into it and licked it off. It wasn't long before it wouldn't go into the thin crystal (Rich turned out to be thicker than average,) and so I started sucking in earnest. Before he could come, he got me to sit back on the couch, fitted another rubber on, knelt between my legs and entered me again. It was even better than the first time, because Rich could really control his movements in that position. He pumped in, out and around inside of me, varying the rhythm and tempo until I was in full spend. Then he turned me over and did me from the rear, making me even more frantic. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, stripped the rubber off of him, and went down on him. I've been told by many guys, including Don, that I give the best blowjobs in town. In fact, in many towns. When Rich started moaning and pumping into my mouth, I knew I had another satisfied customer.

The rest of the night is sort of a blur, because of the champagne and all the sex. I seem to remember room service, and then finally we slept.

We sort of woke up mutually, sometime around eight. Rich went into the shower, and I just laid there, luxuriating in the feeling of being well fucked, and knew I wanted some more. I put on a green negligee I'd brought, hoping to get Rich ready again, and the phone rang, and it was Doreen. She was going to get in later that afternoon, and just wanted to check with me about a few details. We were chatting about our plans, when Rich came out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair, and yelled, "Lisa, you are one great lay!" When he looked at me and saw that I was on the phone, he ducked back into the bathroom.

Doreen stuttered a couple of times, finished the conversation quickly, and then told me she'd see me later. The idea that I'd been caught sort of excited me, and I was able to get Rich all sweaty again.

It didn't take long for Doreen to get me aside that evening. After a few false starts, she asked, point-blank, if I was having an affair. I admitted it, and then, before she could start in on me, I told her about my arrangement with Don. She plainly didn't believe it, and was clearly pissed with me for the rest of the reunion. Rich wasn't, though. He met me in my room every evening and to this day, we get together every once in awhile.

Doreen stayed upset with me until Don took her aside and talked to her, and let her know it was okay. Once she heard it from him, she turned into her old self. Later, she told me she doesn't understand the life I choose to live, but like always, she refuses to judge me. She just wants to make sure that I don't get hurt. Don's included in that, too. I don't tell her about every conquest I've made, like I used to in college, but she's been aware of a few of them. She's a pal. She'd do anything for me, and I know I'll do anything for her.

Alan and Don get along pretty good, too. Just before their last son graduated from high school, Alan bought a sailboat on a lake a couple of hours north of us, and asked Don if he'd help 'break it in.' They stayed up there the whole weekend going around in circles. I knew Don was as hooked as Alan was when he suggested we buy a boat, too. I got him to climb off that one by appealing to logic; if we were off on a boat in the middle of the water, how could we be golfing? Don realized the futility of trying to have too many playthings, and for the next couple of years he and Alan took day trips up to the lake, and sometimes Doreen and I had to go with them.

Before last summer rolled around, Alan started pushing a sailing trip around the Virgin Islands. Don thought it was a good idea, too, and Doreen seemed to be supportive. I wasn't sure about it. A week out on the water with nothing more to do than read and drink doesn't appeal to me that much; I'm more of a big city type. But I was outvoted, so one Friday night I'm aboard a flight to St. Thomas. The guys planned the whole thing - they got the charter, and 'laid in' all kinds of supplies, mostly liquor, so that all we had to do was sail from place to place and anchor in pristine bays off deserted islands. I'd done some research of my own, and discovered that the wardrobe de riguer for such a voyage is topless. And that's only if you get cold. But I was going with Doreen and Alan, so I packed as many one-piece suits as bikinis, and brought along a bunch of cover-ups.

The first couple of days went along pretty much as expected. Sail in the wild tropical winds from about ten o'clock in the morning until about three, then find someplace to anchor without another boat in sight. In the morning and then in the evening we'd all jump in for swim and play time. Maybe some volleyball or keep away or something like that. A little roughhousing went on, bodies crashing into bodies, but I never felt uncomfortable with it, and Doreen didn't seem to mind the incidental brushes.  

On the third day there was almost no breeze at all, and the sea was as flat as a tabletop. While the guys were trying to figure out how to get the boat to go somewhere, anywhere, Doreen and I thought about what we would make for dinner, and the four of us came to the same conclusion - head for port! We turned the motor on and set course for the nearest village. When we finally got there, it was late afternoon, and we got off the boat in the metropolis, glad to be back in 'civilization.' There were only two establishments in the place that catered to tourists, and we hit both of them. First we had a long dinner of fresh vegetables and fish, and then we went over to the nightclub. It was long after dark when we arrived, and the place was, if not jumping, at least lively. A reggae band was playing loudly, and perhaps fifty people, mostly tourists but some natives, were imbibing and dancing. We gladly joined them in both of their pursuits, and until well after two in the morning we got wild and crazy.

Mostly, Alan danced with Doreen and Don pranced with me, but occasionally we would switch off. This wasn't odd; Alan and I often danced with each other at weddings or parties at our Club. After awhile, Doreen decided she wanted to get some air, but Alan wanted to have another Planter's Punch. I sent Don out to look after our friend; even if we were in the tropics, it was still a strange area, and women should be escorted. After they left, Alan and I started dancing again, and then they shifted to a couple of slow dances. Alan grabbed me, and we drifted around the dance floor. Soon, I was aware that he was pressing himself to me much closer than he'd ever done before, and he stole a little kiss. I let him, thinking it was just the romance of the setting, but when I felt his hand wandering toward my ass, I sat down! Half an hour later, we were back on board, bedded down on our proper side of the curtain.

The next day was much better. The breeze kicked up, we sailed along, and everyone was in much better spirits. As usual, we anchored in the late afternoon, and took a swim. When we frolicked, even though Alan and I made contact as usual, it didn't seem like any big deal.

After we climbed back on the boat, Doreen and I began to sun. The guys folded sails or something, and Doreen turned to me and said, "You know, to hell with this. There they are, with just their loose trunks on, and here we are, with these tight things on." She was wearing a bikini with some underwiring in the bra. "I'm going to do something about this!" And she whipped her top off! A few moments later, Don looked over and nearly twisted his neck. He didn't know whether to stare at her in amazement, or to ignore the whole thing. Alan caught his act, glanced at her, and said, "Hey, you're finally going to get comfortable, huh?"

Now I'm not a nudist, but I've never seen the use of clothes just for the sake of covering up something that doesn't really need it. (Fashion? But that's another subject, dear.) So I went below, took the one-piece off, and put just bottoms on. When I went back on deck, I could tell that Alan was trying not to gawk, but the longer we let it go on, the less uncomfortable the situation became. The night ended up with both of us girls eating dinner and cleaning up without changing our costume. Later, Don and I went to bed, and heard the sounds of the other couple making love up on the deck, so we did it too.




Don & Lisa Ch. 02



I always woke earlier than the others. When I went topside it was a gorgeous dawn, and I decided to stay with the new uniform of the day. I jumped into the ocean for a little swim, and after a few strokes, I saw Alan on the deck. I motioned for him to come on in, and he splashed in and floundered over to me. We continued a few hundred yards, until we were both worn out. I'm a better swimmer than he is, but he can stay afloat much easier than I can; I often hung onto his shoulders as a flotation device and that morning I didn't see any reason to change the habit. But as we rested in the deep water, I began to feel his arm brush up against my chest more than was absolutely necessary. I extricated myself, and swam towards the beach, into shallower water. When I could barely stand up, I just looked at the beauty of the island. A few minutes later, I felt Alan's lips at the back of my neck, and his hand cupped my bosom. I turned around in surprise, and he grabbed me and pressed our groins together while he attempted to kiss me. I avoided as much contact as I could, and said, "Alan, you know I like you, but we just can't do this. Do you understand?"

"But, Lisa, you're just so . . ."

"No, Alan. We can't hurt Doreen or Don."

"But . . ."

"I'm going back to the boat, Alan. I'm trusting you not to do anything like this again." I took off, outswimming him, and by the time he got back to the boat I had a bra and cover-up on, and Don was rustling around, thanks to a few nudges from me. Within a few hours, everything seemed back to normal, but for the rest of the trip I didn't go topless, and I was very careful about touching him when we played. He seemed to be okay with that, and didn't try anything else. As far as I was concerned, it was forgotten. No, I didn't tell Don about it.

A few weeks later, the guys were spending a day at the lake, and Doreen and I were in her backyard, just chatting. We went on for awhile, and then she said, "Lisa, can I talk to you? About sex?"

This wasn't a big deal. The first time she was pregnant, she realized that she wasn't able to satisfy Alan completely, and she wanted to know how to give him a good blowjob. This was before the Internet, (not that Doreen would ever enter a chat room!) and she needed a good reference. None better than me, she figured, and I was happy to give her a few pointers. In the ensuing years, when they got bored or other minor problems would crop up, I'd help her out with some sound advice.

This time, however, it was a big deal.

"Lisa, I think Alan's going to have an affair."

"Oh, come on, Doreen, he loves you. He's not going to do anything like that."

"But he's been fantasizing about it in bed with me. It's on his mind. He's never had anyone but me, and now that the kids are out of the house, he's got too much time to himself."

"So he's going through male menopause. Big deal. He'll get over it."

We went around that block for a long time. Although I wasn't convinced he would ever get serious, (or know what to do to get it if he did!), Doreen was sure that sooner or later, she was going to have to deal with the 'other woman.'

"Okay, let's assume for the moment that you're right. So he goes out and has a quick affair. So you'll be hurt for a little while, but honey, before long he'll come back, wagging his tail behind him. You've got absolutely nothing to worry about, even in the remote possibility that he really does go through with it."

"I wish I was so sure about it. But with all the widows and divorced women out there, I'm afraid he'll like her more than he likes me, and I'll lose him."

We talked about that one for awhile. This, apparently, was her big problem, that after he went away he'd never come back. Having seen it happen all too often before, (one guy chased me for two years,) I could only be so supportive. Finally, we got around to looking for solutions. I sure didn't have one, but Doreen did.

"Lisa, what I need to do is get him a different woman who would service him once or twice, and then send him home." This one floored me.

"What are you going to do, get him a hooker for his birthday?"

"No, that wouldn't work. At least, I don't think it would. What I need is a girl who he's already interested in, but is safe. You know Alan's been quite specific in bed; I know what he wants. I think he'd like me to be that, but I just can't."

"So what's he looking for?"

"Well, a girl that's really exciting. A woman who's been with a bunch of guys, who knows what a man wants." I wasn't sure I liked the way this was going. "His ideal girl has beautiful tits, and is very exciting. Sort of like you."

"Wait a minute. You're not suggesting . . ."

"Lisa, he's never told me in so many words that you're his ideal woman. But for weeks after we came back from the cruise, he couldn't stop thinking about the day we went topless. And how you danced with him at the nightclub. You really affected him that week."

"Doreen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ."

"No, it's okay, it's just that you're so sexy you can't turn it off. Don't worry about it, even if he tried to kiss you. Or something. I know you didn't encourage him." I wondered if Alan had been talking out of school. "Besides, you've got other advantages."

"Such as?"

"Such as the fact that you're his best friend╒s wife. And that you have an open relationship?"

"He doesn't know that, does he?"

"Hell, Lisa, when I found out what you were doing, I had to talk about it with someone! If it's any consolation, he defended you, telling me it was none of my business."

I went to get us another drink, and get my head in order. When I got back, I tried to summarize the situation.

"All right. What I hear is that you think that Alan, sooner or later, is going to go fool around on you. You want to set him up with an easy girl, but someone who's not a threat. That's me. In other words, you want me to go fuck your husband until he's satisfied, and then you think he'll get over it." I used the F-word on purpose; Doreen doesn't like obscenity, and I wanted to shock her if I could.

"Pretty much, that's it. Don't say no, not yet. Will you think about it? Please?"

We talked about it some more. I shared with her what I thought were the weak points of her plan. How if we went through with this, it might just whet his appetite. How he might wind up obsessing on me. How, in the long run, it might ruin our relationship. For each one, she came back, quickly, with a retort. He'd never been a man to fool around; this was just a phase we had to get him through. (All of a sudden, it had become my problem, as well as hers.) How I was very good at controlling guys; surely Alan would be a walk in the park. And, of course, how could such a sweet thing ever come between us, when we already had so much water over the dam.

I could speak to the President of the United States and tell him to go fly a kite. But I couldn't refuse my best friend. "I'll speak to Don about it," I said. "If he doesn't kill me, we'll see about it."

I waited three days until the right moment, which came, of course, in bed after sex. When I first broke the subject, Don just about split a gut. "Yeah, he's been asking me about what the women I had before you were like. He hasn't asked me about Jill, or Fran, or Judy though. Are you sure Doreen gave him the whole story?"

"She couldn't. I've never told her about your girls. Maybe she thinks I'm the only one who screws around."

"Well, do you want to do this? I mean, this could be heap big medicine, you know."

We talked about it for an hour or so, and he brought up all the same objections I had. But the bottom line for him was that I had to help my friend. When I asked him how it might affect his relationship with Alan, he replied that it wouldn't matter to him, and that he didn't think Alan was the type of guy to rub somebody's nose in it. If worse came to worse, he'd just have to talk to him about it. If I decided to go ahead, he'd be cool with it, like he always was.

So, the ball was still firmly in my court.

When I got together with Doreen a couple of days later, I got weak. I can't refuse that girl anything. But we did get some ground rules down:

- I'd only go to bed with Alan two or, at the very most, three times. Then it would be over. Over! Do you hear me, never again!

- I wanted to do it in their house, but not in their bed. I wanted him to think about her while he was doing it to me. I figured that if we did it anywhere else, it would be easier for him to ignore her.

- She had to trust me to make sure that he got what he needed, without giving him more than that. She did. I was the expert, she said.

I set it up for a Wednesday night a couple of weeks after that. Following our plan, Doreen told Alan she was going to a town council meeting, and after that she was going to have coffee with some of her girl friends. She had to tell him she'd be back about ten o'clock. And come back promptly at 9:05.

I prepared differently for this "date" than I had for any other in history. First, I hadn't shaved my legs since Sunday, so I was good and stubbly. Then, when I got home from work, I went for a jog, and didn't shower. I did, however, give myself a douche; some men feel that a musty vagina is the world's best aphrodisiac, and if Alan was one of those, I didn't need that distraction. I put my sports bra back on and donned a pair of white panties that I'd bought at K-Mart just for this occasion. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt finished off the outfit. I didn't bother to put make-up on, and my hair wasn't properly groomed, either.

I stopped over about 8:00, an hour after she left. It wasn't unusual for me to just pop in. "Hi," I said, walking casually through the sliding door into their downstairs den. The four of us were quite casual in our comings and goings.

"Oh, hello. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Doreen. Is she upstairs?"

"No, she went down to one of those damn meetings." He wasn't appreciative of her newfound interest in politics. "She's not going to be back for a couple of hours."

"Oh, that's too bad. I wanted to show her some pictures I found of the trip to the Virgin Islands." I was pretty sure that Alan hadn't seen most of the pictures, and was counting on him to have forgotten the rest. "Do you want to take a look at them?"

He started flipping through the thick sheave of glossies. The first fifteen or twenty were of the boat or islands. Then he got to a few of us playing around in the water. I went behind him, looked over his shoulder and made comments about how much fun the trip had been. A few flips later and he was looking at the ten or so pictures where Doreen and I were topless. In most of them, his wife had thrown an arm over her breasts or done something else to hide them. I, on the other hand, was displaying my tits for all the world to see. When he slowed down to get a good look at these, I gently (accidentally) brushed my breasts along his arm. "We had a really great time down there, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we sure did," he grunted.

"Alan, remember the morning we went swimming by ourselves? Well, I'm sorry I wasn't a little nicer to you then. It's just that, well, Doreen was right there, and if she had seen us, uh, it just wouldn't have looked right. You see that, don't you?"

"Umm, hmm." He was enjoying the pressure of my hand on his neck. "But, if we ever get the chance, just once or twice mind you, I really think you're a sweet guy. . ." By this time, I had my face right beside his. He turned his face to me, and I kissed him. I made sure it was just a nice kiss, not too hard, and just a little tongue. He responded in kind, and we sort of hung around a little, letting our lips meet. Finally, I broke it up.

"Whew! You're a great kisser," I fibbed. "Can I get a drink?"

While he made it for me, I sat down on the couch. "Sit down here," I urged. Of course, when he did, I sidled up beside him and started rubbing him. For awhile he was tentative and then he put his hand on my arm. I didn't have a lot of time, so I placed it on my breast. He got the idea, and started pawing me, and kissing me hard. I knew I had him where I wanted.

"Alan, you're not going to tell Doreen, are you?"

"No, of course not."

"What time do you think she'll be home?"

"She said about 10:00." The guy was writing a textbook in how not to have an affair. I knew Doreen would be home a full hour earlier than that, and his inattentiveness would just make it easier for us to scare him out of trying again!

"Let's go upstairs." I led him up to the second floor, and then into their daughters room. Fathers are compulsive about their little girls, and this was perfect for the purpose. There was an alarm clock, and I checked the time against my wristwatch - it was six minutes slow.

I sat down on the bed, and he followed me. Before too long, I was on my back, still fully dressed and Alan was on top of me. He unbuttoned my blouse, flipped the bra up and started sucking on my nipples. I unzipped his pants and grabbed a hold of his dick. He was ready to go, and just in time. We only had 35 minutes before Doreen would return. When he went to take my blouse and bra off, he managed to get me totally tied up, and if he hadn't been so intent, I would have split a gut laughing. When he finally had me topless, I took off his shirt and pants and then I rubbed my tits all over him. He was getting harder yet, and then I finally got him out of his boxers. He was ready to go.

I laid back and let him take off my jeans and panties. He took a good look at my pussy, and started fingering it, ineffectively. While he was having fun, I licked my hand and started applying friction to his tool.

He started to kneel between my legs, and I stopped him. "We need a condom. Do you have any up here?"

"Cripes, no," he moaned.

"That's okay. I've got one in my purse. Lay here and wait while I go get it."

I'd planned this. I wanted him to lie there, in his daughter's bedroom, and think about the dastardly act he was about to commit. I put my jeans and top on, and went downstairs to retrieve the protection. I wasn't in a hurry; I wanted the situation to sink into his brain. When I returned, he was still lying there, stiff as a two by four. I put the package on the end table, right next to the family photograph, and then I slowly undressed for him. We had seventeen minutes left. I took his tool in my mouth, and could taste the pre-cum. I knew he was pretty excited, and that he wouldn't last long, so I picked up the foil and handed it to him.

"Put this on." It took him a few moments to tear the package, and then, from the way he handled it, I knew it had been years since he'd used one, if he ever did. Finally, I had to reach over and help him, and I knew from the way he was twitching that he wouldn't last long.

When the rubber was adjusted correctly, I laid down on the bed and opened my legs. Alan knelt between them, and got on top of me. We kissed and he tried to get it to enter me, but he kept missing the mark. I reached between us, grabbed it, and placed it right at the entrance to my vagina. At that precise moment, I felt Alan's body go rigid and the tremors in my hand proved to me that he was in the midst of premature ejaculation. I thought he might try to push into me and finish himself of, but instead he let me stroke his tool while he came. I know that his head was right at my lips, but I'm not sure just how far he entered my canal. I let him stay on top of me, and stroked his tool until he was empty. He rolled off of me and we laid there while he finished wheezing. We had eleven minutes left - plenty of time. I took a tissue, removed the rubber and placed it on the table, next to the picture, making sure it wouldn't leak. Then we just laid there, next to each other and I told him it would be better the next time.

"Listen," I said, with seven minutes left, "I think we'd better break this up before Doreen gets home, don't you?"

"We've got plenty of time," he told me, and then he started to finger my pussy a little bit. Just at that precise moment, we heard the garage door begin to open. I registered, with delight, the look of shock on his face. This was cutting it a bit close, but I figured it was just what we needed. I just hoped Doreen would stay downstairs so that we wouldn't get 'caught.'

"Quick, get dressed. Go downstairs and just chit-chat. Try not to be nervous." He did as he was ordered. I was a couple of steps behind him when he had all his clothes on. "Go!" I commanded.

He almost tripped going down the stairs, and after he got all the way down, I went into the bathroom and flushed the evidence down the toilet. Before I went down the flight of steps, I looked at the clock and realized my watch was six minutes slow, not fast.

Doreen greeted me and I just told her about the photos. One more time we went through them, and Doreen studied them as if she'd never seen them before. As we viewed the topless photographs, Doreen remarked, "That was fun, wasn't it. Don't we both have nice tits, dear?" Alan was just taking a drink, and choked on it. I hung around for a half-hour or so, and then I made my excuses. Alan followed me out, and after he closed my car door for me, I rolled the window down and told him that I was looking forward to the next time.

When I got home, I greeted Don and then took a hot shower and shaved myself. Don knew what I am, and he's even seen me screw other men, but this made me feel dirty. When he came to bed, I feigned sleep.

When I picked up my voicemails at work in the middle of the next morning, Doreen's ecstatic voice entreated me to call her. I closed the door to my office and dialed her over my salad at lunchtime.

"What did you do to him last night? He was fantastic! He even asked me to put on some sexy underwear, and then he got some oil out. What happened? Didn't it work out?"

I decided not to tell her the whole story. "We started, but in the middle, well, he just didn't feel like continuing." That was sort of a truth, wasn't it? "Listen, before I continue the treatments, I think we should let it settle for a few days. Let's try to figure out where he is, okay?"

The four of us were supposed to go out on the boat the following weekend, and I wondered if I should call it off; I was still feeling if not, well, guilty, then sort of soiled still, I guess. I didn't tell Don what I'd done. For some reason, even though it might turn around and bite us all in the ass, I was hoping it would all go away.

When we got to the pier, Doreen was in the hold, and Alan was working topside. When he first glanced at me, I thought his face flushed a bit, but he acted normally. 'Good,' I thought, 'at least he's not going to make a fool out of himself, and me with him.' We cast off and floated out to the middle of the lake. The guys did some sort of fast turning maneuver they were working on for awhile and then we settled into a long sail downwind. Don went up onto the bow to play with the sails or something, and Doreen went up there to sun. For the first time since our 'affair' started, Alan and I were alone.

Alan started the conversation. "Listen, we need to talk."

"Um-hmm."

"Well, uh, I really enjoyed the other night, but I don't feel very good about it."

"How so?"

"Well, I mean, we cheated on Don and Doreen. If they ever find out, well, they'll never trust us again."

I decided not to disagree. "Well, if we keep it up, they're bound to figure it out, sooner or later."

"Well, yeah. That's why I think we stop it now."

I was astounded. This was way too easy! "You mean, you don't want me anymore?"

He tried to take it easy on me. "Oh, Lisa, I liked it, I like you, but it's just not worth it. Can't you see that?"

I started to pout a little bit. I didn't want him to think I was relieved or anything. Just then Don came back, and we had to stop talking. For the next couple of hours, we sailed around. Finally, on our way back into the slip, he got a chance to get me aside again. "Lisa, is it okay? I mean, you won't be too upset, will you?"




Don & Lisa Ch. 02



"No, I guess not. I'll always remember it, though."

"So will I."

Weeks went by, and nothing. Finally, when Doreen and I went to a ballet by ourselves, (trying to get those two to go to anything cultural is suicide,) I broached the subject. "Well, anymore talk out of him about another woman?"

"No, not a peep. Whatever you did to him cured his itch. What did you do, anyway?"

"Nothing, just gave him a little touch of the medicine. And he found out he didn't like the taste. And why should he, honey, when he's got a banquet in you?"

And that's the story. I believe that Alan will never stray again, and things will be just fine in mid-America.

But this leaves me in a quandary. Did Alan and I make love? Or should I assume that he never got there, in which case I should save those stickpins and continue to look for Mr. 75?