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Hello - Goodbye

By: VelvetVixen



Jenna had seen him watching her as he circled the room earlier that evening, unable to stop herself staring each time he came into view. He was sexy as sin; tall, dark hair, smouldering brown eyes. Each time she thought he was going to come over to her, he seemed to be waylaid by one of her colleagues. As the Christmas drink flowed and her friends chattered beside her, she found her thoughts wandering back to him. She turned, surveying the room over the rim of her glass, and her gaze locked with his. He stood nearby, a faint smile on his lips. 

Damn, the man looked good; Jenna licked her lips as she took in his appearance, from the black trousers that hugged his butt so nicely to the black shirt that was open just far enough to give her a tantalising glimpse of the tanned, toned chest below. A shiver ran down her spine as he gave her the same once over. From the way his eyes lingered, he liked what he saw and Jenna smoothed down her skirt self-consciously. She had wondered if the short skirt and low red top were too much- after all this was a work party. Now she was glad that she had been daring.

She turned away for a second but when she looked back, he was gone. Suddenly, her glass was taken from her and a hand closed around hers. Jenna allowed herself to be led out of the room and along the quiet corridor. She followed him into a side office, watching as he closed the door behind them.

"It's about time you introduced yourself," she told him, peering up at him from under her lashes.

He grinned and she felt the heat rush through her, desire pooling between her thighs. 

"Who said anything about introducing myself?"

He closed the distance between them, following as she took a step away, until Jenna's back came up against the door behind her. Leaning down, he claimed her mouth with his, parting her lips to flick his tongue inside to tangle with hers. He hooked his fingers under the edge of her top and slid it up, palms grazing her skin as he raised it higher before breaking the kiss to tug it over her head. Tossing it aside, her bra soon followed, and he filled his hands with her breasts. Jenna arched her back, thrusting further into his hands, as he thumbed her nipples. He bowed his head to use his mouth on her, closing his lips over one of the hard buds as his hand continued to torment the other, making her gasp.

Jenna gave up trying to unfasten his shirt and held onto his shoulders as he suckled and nipped at the sensitive bud. Each touch sent a rush through her, left her skin tingling under his fingers. She was wet for him, more than ready, and she wanted more. 

When he finally raised his head from her breast, tugging her skirt and underwear down until they dropped around her ankles, Jenna reached between their bodies. Her fingers seemed to be agonisingly slow as she removed his belt, unfastening his trousers until she could to get to what she wanted. She slipped her hand inside, delighted to find that there were no more barriers. She wrapped her hand around his already stiff shaft, trailing her fingers along his length as she freed him from the confines of the material. Slipping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down to her once more.

Jenna was plastered along the length of his body and he reached down, lifting her slightly, so that that she was pinned between the cool wall and the hard muscle of his torso. He parted her legs so that he could fit his body in closer and she felt his hard erection press against her as second before he thrust into her. Jenna gasped, clenching her fingers in his shoulders as he stretched her, easing his length inside of her. Locking her ankles behind his back, she held on as he sank his erection fully inside of her, up to the hilt. The gentle explorations of earlier were gone now, replaced by more base urges, but that was exactly what her body craved. She wanted the hard pounding rhythm as he thrust into her; the feeling of him stretching her almost to her limits as he crammed inside of her made her glad that he was holding her up. Had she been standing, her knees would have been weak by this point. 

She was close, standing on the edge of the precipice, and it would not take much to make her fall. Tightening her legs around him, she pulled him in closer with each thrust, taking him in as deep as she could. All at once, her climax hit her, coursing through her body like a raging fire, and she felt him riding her faster, harder, close to his own end. He pumped into her once, twice again, and joined her in ecstasy. 

For what seemed like an eternity he held her there until he eventually lowered her to her feet. 

"So, are you going to tell me your name now?" she asked, when she had her breath back.

He grinned, collecting his clothes as he passed hers up to her.

"David," he told her. "But you have to admit that my introduction was much more fun."

Hello Goodbye



"Hello, I'm ...."

"Helen Hamilton!" I exclaimed.

When my doorbell rang, I had idly wondered who it could be. I never guessed it would be one of the few women I fantasize about on a regular basis. I was stunned to see Helen Hamilton standing on my doorstep.

"So you know who I am," she smiled. "I'm moving in next door and wanted to introduce myself."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "And I bet you're the new surprise anchor channel 16 has been so secretive about."

It wasn't rocket science, or brilliant detective work, to figure that one out. Our local ABC affiliate had been blitzing the airwaves with teasers about the new look for the six and eleven o'clock news. Ratings had been dropping and the station wanted to get back their share of the viewers, and the advertising revenue.

She seemed surprised that I guessed her 'secret' so quickly. It was Sunday afternoon and Monday was supposed to be the debut of the new look on 16. Then I remembered some of my manners.

"Please come in, Helen. May I call you Helen?" I quickly asked as I stepped aside to allow her access.

"I have to say that it is gratifying that you recognized me, and that you have been paying such close attention to channel 16's promos," she laughed as she strode onto our living room. "Of course you can call me Helen. We are going to be neighbors for a while."

"This is like a dream for me Helen," I gushed. "I have followed your career for years. You were very good on CNN and you did a great job covering that tsunami last year for Fox! I am having some difficulty with the fact that as great as you look on TV, you are way more beautiful in person! I never would have believed it possible."

"You are very flattering, Mr. ..?" 

"Stanton, Mike Stanton," I answered. "I am babbling like an idiot and never told you my name! I apologize, Helen. I'm just really; really surprised that Helen Hamilton rang my doorbell. No one will ever believe this. Heck, I hardly believe it!"

Then I remembered my digital camera, in the closet, just a few feet from where I stood. I quickly retrieved it held it up as a sheepish grin washed over my face.

"Before I wake up or you disappear in a puff of smoke or something, I'd very much appreciate you permitting me to get a picture of you, with me. Would you allow me that honor?" I pleaded.

"Wow, you must be my best fan!" laughed the woman of my dreams. "I'd be delighted to accommodate you, Mike."

I stepped close to her and held the camera at arm's length. She was only a couple inches shorter than my five foot eleven and as I leaned toward her I slid my other arm around her shoulder.

"I'm going to press the button, so smile!" I managed though my shit-eating grin.

As I pressed the shutter, she mover her cheek in against mine and smiled! I thought I was in heaven and began to thank her again.

"Mike, it's no big deal. We are going to be neighbors, so we'll see each other from time to time. You can get more pictures if you like. I only ask you never post them on the web, sell, or give any away to any media without me seeing the picture and approving it first. I always have to watch my image," she admitted.

"I know I am pushing my luck, Helen, but would you be willing to sign one of your pictures in Playboy for me? I can have it here in a minute!"

"I might have known you would have that issue, Mike! That was ten years ago and I was younger, firmer, and dumber than I am now. At least I hope I'm smarter now. I was definitely younger and firmer!" she chuckled.

"Is that an affirmative?" I cautiously asked.

"I have mixed feelings about that whole thing, Mike. I don't know if it hurt, or helped, my career. Sometimes I feel that I'm not taken seriously because I posed nude. Other times I think I would still be a weather girl in Binghamton if I hadn't," Helen revealed. "Let me think about it. You should know this. I have flatly refused anyone else that has asked me to sign those pictures for the last eight years. At least you still have a chance."

"I understand totally and hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I really have followed your career. You are the reason I watched CNN and then switched to Fox. This is so cool having you for a neighbor!" I blurted.

"I have to go back and show the movers where to put everything, Mike, but it was really a treat meeting you. We will try to be good neighbors and respect your privacy at the same time," promised Helen.

"Don't ever worry about that!" I replied. "Invade our privacy anytime. It has been pretty boring around here lately. My wife, Sherry, will be sorry she missed meeting you. Heck, she won't even believe that I met you!" 

I loaded the picture of Helen and me on my computer and printed a couple copies. Then I stuck one picture on the refrigerator, like a kid would do, and put the other one on the coffee table in the living room. Sherry, my wife of 22 years, would be home from her mother's soon and I couldn't wait to see her reaction to the picture. I could barely contain myself as I waited. 

I heard her pull into the garage and pretended to be busy on my computer. I wanted her to see one of the pictures and then ask me about it. I waited about ten minutes and never heard a peep, so I went looking for her. 

I found Sherry in the kitchen having a soda and reading the Sunday paper. She had to get the soda from the frig, so she must have seen the picture! I mulled that over, trying to determine the reason for her lack of interest.

"Hey, Sweetie, I was wondering where you were," stated Helen as she flipped through the ads. "How was your day?"

"Do you mean beside having Helen Hamilton stop in for a few minutes?" I asked sarcastically.

"I saw that picture, Honey," Sherry chuckled. "You are getting pretty good with PhotoShop. It looks real. I know how you have a thing for her. Remember how you'd show me her old Playboy spread the first five or six times you saw her on CNN? She's your walking wet dream."

"I didn't doctor that picture, Sherry! She stopped in today!" I replied.

"I'm sure she did," replied Sherry in a condescending voice. "Tell you what, Mike. Let's make a deal. If you ever get the chance to get into Helen Hamilton's panties, I won't complain. In fact, I will be quite proud of you. I certainly couldn't blame you. She is a beautiful woman."

""Well, gee! I really do appreciate that attitude, Sherry," I retorted. "I'll start working on that right away!"

"By the same token," continued Sherry, "I expect you to not stand in my way with her hunk of a husband, Lance Edwards, if I ever get the chance to get him into bed. He still looks as hard and hot as he did when he played for the Phillies. I know you would be proud of me if he thought I was worth his effort."

"I'm not sure about that deal, Sherry. I can see where you could get that jock to bang you a lot easier than I would be able to seduce Helen Hamilton," I worried.

"Okay, Mr. Fantasy Lover, how about we limit it to blowjobs?" laughed Sherry. "If you can get Helen Hamilton to blow you, anyplace you choose, I won't stand in your way. If I get the chance to blow Old Lance, you don't stop me and you never complain about it, or hold it over me, or try to divorce me."

"What the hell are you talking about, Sherry?" I demanded. "I've never been able get you to suck my cock. Why the fuck would I go along with you blowing that has-been?"

"You're getting awfully fired up over this fantasy, aren't you?" Sherry chuckled. "It seems like a fair deal to me. One, or possibly both of us, experience our first blowjobs with two of the most beautiful people in the world. The only difference is that I will be giving and you will be receiving, or would you like to have a crack at Lance, too?"

"You know better than that! I didn't even like him when he played for the Phillies!" I growled. "It's still a lot easier for you to get him to let you blow him than it could ever be for me to somehow get Helen to suck my cock. In 22 years I haven't been able to get my own wife to do it, for Christ's sake!"

Sherry was laughing heartily at my indignation. Tears were starting to run down her cheeks.

"That's the best offer I'm going to make, Mike," she croaked between bouts of laughter. "Take it or leave it."

"Goddamn it! I'll take it, but don't bitch when you see Helen Hamilton sucking me off! One other thing, don't suck that asshole's cock when I'm around to see it!" I snarled.

"That sounds fair enough! I guess we have a deal then," Sherry struggled to tell me as the tears of laughter ran down her face. "Now let's discuss Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie!" 

"No more damn deals!" I insisted. "You'll be blowing every goddamn guy in the country before long and I'll be left with Rosie Palm. Something about this really pisses me off! It's only the thought of a blowjob from Helen Hamilton that got me to go against my better judgment and agree to this." 

I turned and stalked out of the room as Sherry roared in mirth. This was a joke to her, but he who laughs last....

I never said another word about our famous neighbors. Until Sherry had mentioned it, I had forgotten that Helen had married Lance Edwards a few years back. He had been a mediocre third baseman for several years with the Philadelphia Phillies. His lifetime average was .241 and he had fewer than a hundred homers in his career. It was safe to say he would not make the Hall of Fame, nor would he cause Phillie fans forget Mike Schmitt.

Monday evening, I turned on channel 16 a few minutes before the six o'clock news. I had to see Helen's first night as the anchor, even if it was unlikely that I would ever get a blowjob from her.

Sherry came in from the kitchen and sat next to me.

"I'll finish making dinner when I see who makes up the new cast of characters on 16," she told me as she put her feet up. "I've never seen a station keep the identity of their new anchor such a secret, but it seems to have worked. Everyone at work today was saying how they were going to watch tonight, just out of curiosity."

Just then Helen appeared on the screen, and she looked great! Sherry gasped and then gave another little sound when that fucker, Lance Edwards, was introduced as the new sports director.

"Holy shit, Mike! They will have to live someplace within driving distance of the station. We could actually meet him!" grinned Sherry.

"Him?" I repeated and then said it again. "Him? As you know, they are married and we will see both of them. You'll probably have calluses on your knees within a few weeks."

"Mike, are you worried about that dumb agreement we made last night?" grinned Sherry. "Like you said yesterday, I don't suck cock, so let's just cancel it. Besides, it is a big area and it isn't very likely we'll ever meet them."

"Bullshit! We made a deal. You thought it was funny at the time, but I want that blowjob!" I replied steadfastly. "Unless of course you want to blow me. Then I'd be willing to call it even."

Sherry dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together as she begged, "Please feed me your big cock and make me the cocksucker you always wanted me to be. I'm tired of being a reasonable, normal, respectable wife and mother. Suddenly, I have the urge to be a cock-sucking slut. I can't live another minute without tasting your cum as it slides down my throat!"

Sherry was good! For a minute I thought she was serious. Then she jumped up laughing and headed for the kitchen. I was already hard from watching Helen on the screen and could have given Sherry her wish in a matter of seconds, if it had only been her real wish! I cursed under my breath and shifted all my concentration to the incredible beauty on TV. I had never seen a more desirable woman.

Because they worked evenings, it wasn't until the next weekend that Sherry discovered that Helen Hamilton and Lance Edwards lived next door to us. We had purchased our house and thirty acres 12 years ago. The only neighbor we had within half a mile was the house Helen and Lance were living in. 

We had always wanted to buy that property, too. For all the property we had, the two houses were only about fifty feet apart. Our ranch house had been built by the daughter and son of the couple used to own the big farmhouse, which was now inhabited by Helen and Lance. Over the years, and after the death of the parents, the two properties had been split. Each had about thirty acres, but the two houses were close together. The last people that owned the farmhouse had restored it to the original splendor of the era. Then they added a paved driveway, and an in-ground pool.

It made our property more valuable, but priced the other home way out of our price range. We were resigned to having no control over who lived next to us. If we could have bought it, we might have rented it until one of our two grown kids showed some interest in being close to their parents. It was not to be, however. Both kids were in other states working, and neither was married. They had no interest in living back in the "boonies".

Just as I came in the door Saturday, after a trip to The Home Depot, Sherry started in on me.

"Mike! Guess who's living in the Turner house!" she asked excitedly.

"Helen Hamilton and Lanced Boil," I replied calmly.

"You already knew it, you bastard!" yelled Sherry. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Maybe I was hoping to get my blowjob before you knew what the hell was going on," I deadpanned. "Or maybe I was trying to tell you last Sunday when I showed you the picture of Helen and me. You didn't seem to believe it then, so I decided to wait and let you find out on your own."

"You can be a real asshole sometimes, Mike. How was I to know that picture was real? Shit! Was she in our house? It wasn't even clean! She must think I am the world's biggest slob!" moaned Sherry.

"Yeah, she got her knees pretty dirty when she blew me, but other than that, it wasn't too bad."

"Mike! You have to get out of your fantasy world! We have famous neighbors and you can't embarrass me by asking her for a blowjob, or even letting her know you have these weird fantasies. Promise me you will not let her know what a pervert you are, please?" begged Sherry.

"Helen would be surprised if there was a man that didn't have wet dreams thinking about her, Sherry. Every man she meets wants her. That's how it is. I will try to be suave and sophisticated while doing my best to get a little oral from her," I promised.

"I guess that's as much as I can hope for from you, Mike. You'd better be civil to Lance, too. We don't want them to think poorly of us," added Sherry.

"When that bastard looks down and sees you attached to his cock, he'll think the world of you, don't worry! I'm the one whose feelings you have to be concerned about."

Sherry shook her head as she turned toward the kitchen.

"I have never known such a one track mind in my life! It's a wonder you aren't in jail or something," she muttered. 

Sunday was a beautiful warm September day. Sherry and I were discussing visiting her parents when the doorbell rang. Sherry looked surprised as she stood to answer the door. Very seldom did we get company before noon on Sunday.

"Lance Edwards!" gasped Sherry. "Helen Hamilton, too! Please come in! I'm Sherry Stanton. I guess you already met my husband, Mike?"

I had quickly stood and gone into the living room when I heard Sherry announce Lance's name. No sense making it too easy for that bastard to get Sherry on her knees!

"Hello, Sherry. I met Mike a week ago, but Lance didn't have the pleasure," replied Helen. "Mike, this is my husband, Lance."

I shook hands and smiled at the man I disliked on so many levels. If he had fielded that groundball cleanly in September of 1992 and turned a double play, the Phillies could have won the division. Then there was the fact that he was married to, and sleeping with, my fantasy woman. Finally, the fact that my sweet, innocent wife expressed the desire to make him the recipient of her first, and probably only, blowjob was enough to make me go postal! It wasn't enough he could have Helen Hamilton any time he wanted! He could have my wife, too, probably as easily as he had Helen. Man! I disliked the prick! 

"How're you doing, Mike?" grinned Lance as he turned to Sherry. He hugged her and actually lifted her off her feet. By the time he put her back down, Sherry was flushed a bright red.

"We don't want to intrude," began Helen, "but it is a gorgeous day and Lance and I would be delighted if you would join us for a little barbecue this afternoon and then a swim in the pool. I'm sure you know it is heated and we would love to get to know you both better."

"Well, ah... thanks, Helen, but we..." stumbled Sherry as she tried to duck the invitation.

"Would be delighted to come over!" I finished Sherry's sentence. "We'll be there around two?"

"Excellent!" beamed Helen as she and Lance turned to leave. "We'll expect you then. You don't have to bring anything, unless of course you choose to wear swimsuits."

"We always do for the first swim with new neighbors," I laughed. "It takes us a little while to really loosen up."

After she had closed the door and made certain Helen and Lance were out of hearing, Sherry gave me both barrels.

"What the hell are you doing?" she raged. "You know I wanted to drop a little weight before I went out in a swimsuit! How am I going to get out of this, Mr. Big Mouth?"

"That was 2 years ago, Sherry. We finished the basement and have every conceivable piece of exercise equipment down there. How many times have you used any of it?" I asked.

"That isn't the point, Mike. You could see I was trying to decline that invitation and you jumped in and accepted it," fumed Sherry.

"In case you haven't thought of it, I'm going to be in a swimsuit next to that goddamn human hunk. How do you think I'll look next to him, Sweetheart?" I snapped back. "Do you think you'll be able to tell us apart?"

"Well, smart-ass, let me put it this way," Sherry suddenly grinned. "You can bet I won't be blowing you by mistake!"

I was pissed for a second. Then I noticed her smile and realized Sherry was jerking my chain. I had to laugh, too.

"You little cocksucker!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to top you off before we go visit Lance, just to cool off your over active libido."

Sherry laughed and ran for the bedroom. As she peeled off her clothes and slid under the covers, she gave me an evil grin.

"Darling, as you know, I'm not a cocksucker, so don't call me one; not yet."

Now I was really fired up! I yanked the covers off Sherry, ate her to one orgasm and then fucked her to another. Finally, we rested together, feeling very relaxed. 

"Sometimes, I do like your sick, overly active imagination, Mike," smiled Sherry. "It sure makes for some great sex. You were terrific just now. Did you imagine it was Helen Hamilton you were with instead of me?"

"Not at all, Sweetheart. Those fantasies are for the times I'm alone and watching her on TV or looking at her old Playboy spread. When I am with you, I can't imagine anything better," I replied honestly.

"Wow, that was the right answer, Mike!" Sherry gushed as she kissed me hard on the lips. Then she swung away from me and got on her hands and knees. 

"If you are up to it, Lover, and if you see anything you like, you are welcome to it," she whispered. 

I never attended Yale Business School, but I knew a little about probabilities. The odds of getting such an offer from Sherry while sober, and before noon, were about equal to my chances of winning the Power Ball. I grabbed her hips and did my damnedest! 

Sherry managed to look pretty good in a modest one-piece suit that afternoon. Over the years and after giving birth to our two kids, she had gained a few pounds, but for the most part, all in the right places. I tried to keep my stomach sucked in when ever I thought about it. Being around Lance made me think of it a lot. His abs looked liked steel ropes and he wasn't averse to showing them off. I had to admit, for a guy in his early forties, he was a remarkable physical specimen.




Hello Goodbye



Helen opted for a one-piece suit as well, but it was made for her voluptuous figure. It was low in front and I had difficulty keeping my eyes off her chest. I really thought I was being quite furtive in my peeks at those wonderful mounds. At home that evening, I discovered I was mistaken.

"Could you have stared at Helen's tits any more, Mike?" demanded Sherry as soon as we got home. "I was afraid you were going to burn a hole through her suit and her nipples would pop out."

"I think they were popping out, almost as far as my eyeballs," I answered. "I guess old Lance wasn't in danger of you burning a hole through to his cock, was he?"

"Well, if looking would do it, he'd have been scorched by now," grinned Sherry. "Did you see the size of the lump in his suit? Do you think he had a few baseballs in there?"

"It looked more like a bat to me, maybe a 33 with a thick handle," I suggested. He could beat a medium size animal to death with it."

"Yeah, or choke someone to death. I wonder how Helen handles him? She isn't that big, except for her tits, of course," Sherry chuckled.

That was the beginning of our friendship with Lance and Helen. We would get together every couple weeks for an evening. Helen and Lance had weekends off, so we occasionally went out to dinner together. It became apparent to me that Lance wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but ladies never seemed to be interested in a debate with him. Women of all ages fawned over him. He wasn't as vain as I would have been; if I had been a pro ball player, a TV personality, and built like a Greek God. 

The other thing that began the day Sherry and I were invited to the barbecue was our simultaneous decision to put our home gym to use. Sherry and I never actually discussed it, but out thoughts must have been the same. We were only a couple years older than Lance and Helen. If we were going to hang with them, we both wanted to look a lot better. Slowly, we began to slim down, as well as turn fat into muscle.

Sherry began to dress more provocatively. We both had our hair styled after having essentially the same look since we were first married. In short, our lives seemed to have improved. 

Sherry became more aggressive in the bedroom, too. She began keeping candles in the room and lighting them before she initiated sex. She had always insisted the room be dark. I welcomed the change in the lighting, and in her attitude. Then one night, I noticed the curtains were gone; completely removed from the bedroom window. Sherry said they were dirty and she had sent them to the cleaners.

Sherry had always kept the curtains pulled tightly and I had spent a lot of energy in talking her out of additional blinds. The bedroom window was more like a picture window and she had always been paranoid about someone watching us. Years ago, I had built a privacy fence between our home and the old Turner house. From our bedroom, we could see the roof and one attic window of that house. The fence prevented any further view of them, or more importantly, of us.

I decided that since Sherry was feeling more confident with her improved body, she wanted me to see her when we made love. The curtain disappearing was harder to figure out, but the sex was good and pretty frequent, so I never asked any probing questions. I still wasn't getting blown, but I was getting laid just about every way Sherry could imagine. She never used to want to be on top, but lately she was riding me like a cowgirl! Sometimes she'd face me and pull my hands to her tits to play with them while she bounced on my cock, and other times she would face the mirror that was on the wall at the foot of our bed, giving me a great view of her sweet ass as she rode my erection. I hadn't been able to decide which method I preferred. 

Then in February, channel 16 sent Lance to cover the Super Bowl in Jacksonville. He was sending inane reports back every night. Helen called on the Saturday before the big game and asked me if I could bring my tools and go over to her house. Her shower was not working properly.

Helen met me at the door and thanked me coming so quickly and then took me upstairs to the master bedroom and into the bathroom. The phone rang and she went back downstairs to answer it. It took all of ten seconds to determine the drain was plugged. I unscrewed the cover and saw a wad of hair and who knows what else way down in the drain. I could still hear Helen on the phone so I looked around for a wire hangar.

Sounds simple, but it seemed she had only plastic hangars in her closet. Lance's was the same, so I stepped into the hall and looked around. That was when I saw the attic stairs. It seemed likely there would be some wire hangars up there, so I ascended the steps. I was stunned when I opened the door to discover a well-furnished little office. It was complete with a phone, a computer, a small refrigerator, and a pair of binoculars!

My heart was in my mouth as I stepped up to the small window and looked out. My eyes were drawn to my bedroom window immediately. I watched as Sherry strolled out of our master bathroom and into the bedroom, completely naked! The view was unimpeded. Then I raised the binoculars and I was able to see the birthmark on her left ass cheek! The mirror on the wall enabled me to see whatever was hidden from view directly through the window. 

I was in a quandary. Should I demand an explanation from Helen? But she wasn't the one that suddenly removed the curtain. That was Sherry's doing. There was more to this situation than met the eye, so I decided to keep my mouth shut, do some investigating, and get back downstairs to the bathroom before Helen caught me in the voyeur room.

I was trying to pull the crap out of the drain with my needle nose pliers when Helen came into the room. 

"Wow, Mike! I didn't realize that stuff was in the drain," she apologized. "Would you like a wire hanger or something?"

I don't know why women can always find anything they want, but she produced a hangar in ten seconds and the job was done within a minute.

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate that you took care of that rather dirty little job for me. If Lance didn't spend so much time in his little office upstairs, he might have noticed the drain was getting slower. For a jock, he sure loves his computer," stated Helen.

I spent the rest of the day in deep thought. What was really going on? I knew that there was a direct view from Lance's office to our bedroom. Sherry had taken to burning candles when we made love. She had also placed a fairly bright night light in the room. Then she removed the curtains under the pretense of having them cleaned. That was a couple weeks ago and she seemed to be in no rush to get them back up.

We had made it a habit to watch Helen and Lance do the eleven o'clock news on our TV in the bedroom. Then we would watch Leno. Before Leno was over, we would hear Lance's SUV come up the road and pull into their garage. Shortly after that, Sherry would impale herself on my cock.

The only conclusion I could reach was that somehow, Sherry knew Lance was watching us have sex, and that she liked it. That explained her newfound ardor in the boudoir.

What should I do? The sex was great. If I upset the situation, would I be back to an occasional mercy fuck? Was there more between Lance and Sherry than I realized? Was I the only guy getting her best? What would happen if Helen found out? What the hell could I do, should I do? I decided that I needed to be more observant and see what I could learn. I would play my cards close to the vest.

That night in bed, it occurred to me that Sherry had not acted horny all week. She had not initiated any sex at all. She came to bed in her flannel pajamas and went right to sleep. She knew Lance was in Jacksonville! Without Lance watching, she had resumed her old habits.

So Lance was responsible for my active and very enjoyable sex life? Was this simply a case of an exhibitionist and a voyeur on the same wavelength, or was there more? How did Sherry know Lance was watching? Did he tell her, or did she see him, or was I missing something else?

Super Sunday came and Sherry went to visit her mom. I hated to watch the ten hours of pre-game bullshit, so I decided to check out Helen's old Playboy spread. I never tired of looking at her. It wasn't long and I was resting on the bed with my cock out, much like I did the first time I saw the pictures. It was standing at attention and looked to me for some relief. I considered it, but wanted to savor the moment. There I was, looking at naked pictures of a beautiful woman that was less than 100 feet from me at that very moment. What would she think if she knew what I did with her photos?

That was when I had an inspiration. I probably wouldn't have acted on it if I hadn't had a couple beers, and hadn't been laid since Lance left for Jacksonville.

I picked up the phone and called Helen on her cell. She answered and we made the usual small talk for a minute or two. My cock actually got harder as I looked at her large bare breasts and spoke with her on the phone. How cool was this? Then I totally lost my mind.

"Helen, I called because Lance mentioned that he had some interesting information about the Super Bowl he was going to loan me. Did he leave anything for you to give to me?" I asked as I slowly stroked my erection.

"I'm sorry, Mike. He never mentioned anything to me," Helen replied.

"When I spoke to him, he said he had it on his office someplace. Could you take a quick look for me, Helen?"

"Sure, Mike. Just hang on while I go upstairs and look around," she answered.

"I'm in his office now and I just don't see anything that looks like what you described," revealed Helen. 

I had the magazine open on the bed next to me and I was working my shaft like a master. Then I heard a gasp from Helen!

"Anything wrong, Helen?" I asked as I pumped. "You sounded distressed or something."

"No, Mike, nothing wrong. I'm just sorry I can't help you," Helen was barely above a whisper as she spoke.

Sorry she can't help me? My cock got even harder!

"Helen, just talking to you has made my day. Believe me on that," I strained to sound normal as I replied.

"Oh, somehow, I believe you. It makes my day to know that I am able to cheer you up so easily. I appreciated how you came for me yesterday when I called, and I know you would come for me right now if I asked you," she cooed.

That was all it took. I couldn't respond as my little guys answered another false alarm and splattered all over my stomach. I just held the phone away and groaned.

"Mike, are you okay?' asked Helen. "Can I give you a hand with anything?"

"Thanks, Helen," I managed slowly. "I'm feeling great and you have been a lot of help already. Thanks a lot."

"It's my pleasure, Mike," she purred into the phone. "Call me anytime."

We both hung up and I contemplated what I had just done. Helen must have seen me choking the chicken and if she used the binoculars, she would have seen her pictures on the bed. Unless I was totally nuts, she enjoyed the entire exchange. How would this change the dynamics of the game? Would she put the brakes on Lance's activities now that she knew he was watching my bedroom?

I had a lot to think about and it was a good thing, because the Eagles forgot to show up for the football game. Sherry was home before the game ended and once again, we went to sleep with no interaction.

Lance was back for the Monday broadcast. By the end of The Leno Show, Sherry was riding me like there was no tomorrow! I wanted to be angry with her, but some how the knowledge that Lance was watching us made me harder than ever! I let Sherry do all her usual acrobatics. We even came together before she slid off me and dropped exhausted to the bed. 

She didn't notice that I was still hard and I was surprised myself! I immediately climbed back in the saddle. Sherry was shocked but I had to give her credit. She was a gamer! I plowed a few more acres of my own before I deposited another depth charge. I think Sherry even managed another small climax.

From that point, it became a bit of a competition between Sherry and me. She would fuck me and then I would fuck her. Sometimes she would play with me till I was hard and she would ride me again. If she got tired before I came, I'd flip her over and plunge into her until my work was finished. It was a friendly competition and we each looked forward to it. I never loved her more than I did those winter nights.

By watching Sherry closely, I noticed that she went immediately to the computer when she got home from work. I had never given any thought to her emails before, but now I did. I knew her username, but not her password. I came home early one day and left a note that I was helping a friend with his car. Then I made a hiding place in a louvered closet that was only a few feet from the computer.

It wasn't high tech, but it was the best I could come up with. When I heard Sherry pull into the garage, I hid in the closet. I heard her in the kitchen and knew she saw my note. Then she came in and sat at the computer and turned it on. She went right to hotmail and typed in her password. 

I almost groaned when I realized how dumb I was. Her password was "lance"! I could have tried that without all the subterfuge! Did her breathing seem to quicken as she read her mail? It sure seemed like it. After she left the room, I eased out of the closet and sneaked out to the garage and then walked in noisily, as was my usual way. 

It took a good portion of the next morning to read through all of Sherry's old emails from Lance. The early ones suggested she leave more lights on in the bedroom when she had sex with me. Then he pestered her into removing the curtain. After that, his messages pretty much described how beautiful Sherry's tits and ass looked. Then he began telling her how he wanted her to make love to me!

My head reeled as I considered the situation. The neighbor was directing my sex life from his house! And he was doing a damn good job! It was disturbing on many levels, but my main worry was that Sherry seemed to do Lance's biding. I read all the emails, and in the last few, he even commented on my sexual appetite and how it was a pleasure to watch a man that knew how to please his woman. I never saw any indication that he was fucking Sherry. Did that mean he hadn't gotten into her pants, or just that he knew better than to put it in writing?

As I considered what little I knew about Lance, I decided he wasn't bright enough to keep a secret. It seemed very unlikely that he fucking Sherry. Besides, his equipment would have stretched Sherry out like a garage door, wouldn't it? What about Helen? She must have seen me that day, so she had to know Lance was a voyeur. Yet, it appeared to be still happening. I had the feeling I was the odd-man-out. I would monitor Sherry's emails and try to learn more before I dug out my shotgun. That option was always open.

Over the next month or so, I tried to invent new ways to pleasure Sherry and do things I had never tried before. Then I would check Sherry's email a couple days later, after she had already opened them. Lance made more than a few comments about my new techniques, and was actually complimentary! Perhaps I was misjudging the guy. If I were in his position over what seemed to be a submissive woman, I'd bang her brains out, I told myself. Why hadn't I ever noticed that Sherry was submissive? Did it take a famous jock with a huge cock to gain control of her? It seemed my life had a lot more questions than answers since Helen and Lance had moved next door.

Channel 16's ratings had gone through the roof with Helen and Lance in the air chairs. The viewer ship had almost doubled since they joined the team last September. Unfortunately for me, they improved too much. One evening during the eleven o'clock news, Helen announced that she and Lance were leaving 16 to accept similar positions in Chicago!

I hadn't even come close to getting a blowjob from Helen. She had always been friendly, but never less than proper with me. I had grown to like her as a person and not just a great set of tits with a beautiful face. I actually came to enjoy Lance's company when we were out, once I had a beer or two and got past him controlling my sex life. The thing I had to admit to myself was that he was a benevolent master. He seemed quite happy getting me fucked almost every night. How could I dislike him for that?

Those last two weeks before Helen and Lance left saw Sherry and me fuck like crazy people! We tried to outdo each other in bed. It was each of our goals to fuck until the other person asked to stop. It was great! 

The day after their last newscast on 16, Helen called and requested my assistance with some boxes of files she was trying to move. I left Sherry home and went over. The door was opened and Helen called for me to come upstairs. I found her in the attic/office.

"I want you to read this email. If you want it sent, just hit the 'enter' key," smiled Helen as she pointed to the monitor.

I read the message, then read it again, not attempting to conceal my shock. It essentially was a message to Sherry telling her that Lance would be stopping at her house soon, and she was to remove her blouse and bra for him. Then she was to drop to her knees in front of him and proceed to give him the best blowjob she could manage. It was signed by Lance.

"You really don't get it, do you, Mike?" chuckled Helen. "Lance doesn't use this office. The guy spends every waking hour watching sports or working out in the gym. He never sent those emails to Sherry. He never watched the two of you make love."

It was if the darkness was slowly dissipating. I began to put things together. I realized I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed either. It had been Helen!

"Why would I be crazy enough to send this message?" I croaked. 

"Look in your office window, Mike. Sherry is on the computer right now, waiting for a message that Lance promised. You will have the chance to see your sweet wife give her first blowjob, and Lance would be the lucky recipient," Helen grinned. "I can call him on the cell right now and ask him to stop at your house for some duct tape or something. Isn't that what you really want?"

I looked out the small attic window and clearly saw Sherry sitting at the computer. This was like a Hitchcock movie... with the emphasis on the 'cock'! 

"Why would I want my wife to suck your husband off, Helen?" I asked. "I may act odd, but you must know that occurrence isn't on my top ten list."

"You haven't heard the entire offer, Mike," laughed Helen. "As soon as you send that email, I will drop my own top and give you a wonderful blowjob of your own! It won't be my first by a long shot, but it will be all the better because of my experience. You do want to see my tits and have me suck your cock, don't you?"

My dick was already expanding by the time Helen finished her statement! Here was the very thing I had dreamed of for so long. All I had to do was hit one key on the computer and Helen would give me a world-class blowjob, while topless!

I tried to quickly consider the possibilities. Even if I sent the email, would Sherry give Lance a blowjob? If she did, would I enjoy watching? If she did and I did, would I ever be able to look at her the same again? Would I be able to talk her into blowing me in the future? Would she know that I knew? Would she know that Helen sucked me off? How would it all change my life?

Why was I even hesitating? Wasn't seeing Helen's tits more than I had ever dreamed possible? Wouldn't a blowjob from Helen Hamilton be worth any risk? Would any man have to be asked twice to accept this deal?

If I had a crystal ball and had been able to see the future, my decision might have been different. As it was, I was weak. Now and then life presents something too good to pass up. I realized I was experiencing one of those moments, like no other in my life.




Hello Goodbye



"That is too good an offer to pass up, Helen. A man would have to be nuts to miss the chance of a lifetime, wouldn't he?" I asked as I reached for the computer.

Helen smiled at me as she pulled her top over her head, revealing the nicest set of tits I had ever seen.

"I knew you would never take that offer, Mike. You almost made me choke when you reached to the computer, but then just turned it off. You are one of those rare men that, for all your talk and bluster, believes his wife and his marriage are more important than a fantasy. I decided that if you refused my offer, I would at least let you see the objects of your desire in real life. I wish Lance was more like you," she smiled a sad smile. "Now go home to your beautiful wife, Mike. This is good-bye."

With some difficulty I tore my eyes from Helen's perfect tits, turned and ran down the two flights of stairs and back to my house. I marveled at how easily Helen had fooled Sherry and me. I knew I would never have the nerve to tell Sherry that it was Helen and not Lance sending her emails. She didn't even know that I knew anything about anything! We were both a little dumber than I ever suspected.

That was when I got an even bigger surprise as I entered the house. Sherry was waiting for me, wearing nothing but a big smile.

"Mike! You are such a wonderful husband! Come over here and I will see that you are very well rewarded!"

"Don't think I am complaining Sherry, but what are you saying? What do you know about this ..ah, situation?" I wondered out loud.

"Mike, I know everything! Helen didn't send those emails. I sent them to myself to get you all hot and excited. I even wrote the email that you just now refused to send to me. I know that your refusal to send it means you declined Helen's offer of a blowjob and that you didn't want your wife to give another man a blowjob. I know that you are a wonderful, devoted husband, able to resist the most tempting of offers and remain faithful," concluded Sherry.

"Did Helen tell you they could watch us from the attic?" I asked.

"I told her about the attic, silly! Lance never knew he could watch us. He never even went to that room. Helen promised me she wasn't a voyeur and wouldn't be watching," laughed Sherry.

"Did she say anything about Super Bowl Sunday and my call while you were at your mom's?" I asked nervously.

"Helen was with me, visiting Mom," chuckled Sherry. "You called her cell and I listened in on the conversation. I know you better than you think, Mike. I whispered to Helen that you were probably spanking the monkey and looking at her Playboy spread while you were talking to her. That was the gasp you probably heard from her. She played along brilliantly, didn't she?"

"How did you guess that?" I asked Sherry as my face grew redder than a fire truck.

"Mike, I have noticed more than you realize. I've seen how you 'fantasize' while looking at her pictures, when you think I'm not around. That is why I appreciate so much that you declined Helen's offer. She really is your dream girl!" 

"But what would you have done if I sent that email? What would Helen have done?" I asked.

"You'll never know because you didn't send it, Mike. Let's just say that Helen and I had the possibility covered," laughed Sherry. "Now are you going to let me reward you properly, Big Boy?"

Sherry dropped to her knees in front of me and unzipped my pants. I quickly looked to see if the curtains in the living room were opened. They weren't! It wasn't long before Sherry convinced me that I had made the right decision!



Hello, Goodbye



Disclaimer - This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. It's sole purpose is entertainment, so enjoy! Also, scientists have recently discovered that individuals under the age of eighteen show an increased risk of contracting masturbation induced blindness, therefore anyone under the age of eighteen SHOULD NOT READ THIS!!!! 

I love hearing what people think of my stories, so if you loved it or hated it or fall somewhere in the middle, I'd love to hear your opinion. Please send any 

feedback, suggestions or requests.

***

"You ready for this Jen?" Brooke asked as she and her friend got out of her car and headed towards the bar. 

"I guess so" Jennifer mumbled in reply.


For Jennifer Young, this was to be a bittersweet evening. 

On the one hand, she had finally landed a spot at the local hospital where she could complete her internship and eventually become a nurse. It was the culmination of several years of study and hard work. But as one door opens another always seems to close and working at the hospital would mean leaving her job at the airport where she had worked as a ticketing agent for the past two years. 

Now, as she walked toward the entrance to the bar where her going away party was being held, the finality of it all was starting to hit her. Would she ever see any of these people again? Would any of them remember her in six months? What about six years?

"You think Brett's going to show up tonight?" Jennifer asked. 

"Well if he does, he's not gonna know what hit him" Brooke replied. "You are looking soooo hot tonight Ms. Young!" 

Jennifer just waved off Brooke's comment as she laughed but she had to admit to herself that her friend was right. She wore a brown tank top that showed off her big natural tits and a pair of tight, hip hugging jeans that were sure to have all the boys drooling. Not that she cared what most of them thought as long as Brett liked the way she looked. 

"So remind me, how long have you been crushing on this guy?" Brooke asked. 

"For over a year now" Jennifer answered. 

"Over a year" she replied. "And you still haven't hooked up with him?" 

"But he's only been single for the last month, so it's not that pathetic" Jennifer responded. "Besides, who knows if I'll ever even see him again after tonight?"

"True" Brooke replied. "But there's no harm in getting some going away ass is there?"

"I suppose not" Jennifer said and they both started laughing as they paused outside of the door.

"Of course if things don't work out with Brett, you could always hook up with Pam" Brooke joked, pointing to their very butch co-worker who was getting out of her car.

"Gross, who invited that dyke?" Jennifer said with a frown. 

"Oh, relax" Brooke replied. "She's just here to wish you goodbye. You know you really shouldn't be so judgmental." 

"I'm not judgmental" Jennifer shot back. "I just don't want some big old lez hitting on me, that's all." 

"Well then, let's not stand out here all night" Brooke said. "It's party time!" 

As soon as they walked through the door, the small crowd of coworkers erupted into applause causing Jennifer to smile broadly. Things were going to be okay after all. A quick glance around the room showed her that not only did her ticketing agent friends show up but so did most of the baggage handlers and several pilots and stewardesses.

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks" Brooke said as she strode off toward the bar. 

Spotting a seat at one of the tables between Brett and her boss Heather, Jennifer quickly made her way over and sat down. 

"Damn girl, look at you" Brett exclaimed. "I knew you're tits were big, but I didn't know they were that big!" 

He had already been drinking and when Brett drank, he tended to be an obnoxious oaf. 

"Hey Brett" Jennifer said lightly as he continued to ogle her. 

She had been looking forward to seeing him all day, but now that she was here, things were just awkward and uncomfortable.

"Don't mind him" came a woman's voice from Jennifer's left. "I won't let him bother you too much." 

Jennifer looked over and saw her supervisor, Heather Vanderman smiling back at her. Heather had beautiful high cheekbones and perfect white teeth which always made her look somewhat regal. She wore her long blonde hair up most days which only added to her air of elegance.

"Thanks" Jennifer replied. "I just hate it when he's like this." 

"Well, that's a typical man for you" Heather responded airily. "Luckily I've had fifteen years to train mine." 

Jennifer just laughed as she looked at Heather. She only hoped that when she was in her forties that she would be in half as good of shape.

Jennifer knew that Heather's husband Tom owned a distributing company and that they had two children, but apart from that she really didn't know much about her personal life. Why would a woman with so much money bother working at all, let alone taking on the stress that came with being a supervisor?

"Wow, you've been married for fifteen years?" Jennifer asked. "That's got to be tough sometimes." 

"Well, it helps to have more than one home" Heather replied. "In fact, Tom and the kids are in Pensacola for the month. That's the only way I was able to come out tonight." 

"Well I'm glad you came" Jennifer said as she glanced over at Brett chugging another beer with one of his buddies. 

"So am I" Heather answered as she gazed at Jennifer long enough to make the young woman shift uncomfortably in her chair. 

Luckily, Brooke returned with their drinks and the conversation turned light and breezy again. 

For the next hour or so, Jennifer listened as her coworkers came up and wished her good luck. Brett made several attempts to get her to come outside with him, but she was transfixed listening to Heather's stories about her world travels. 

"I never knew you were so interesting" Jennifer replied as Heather finished telling her about her trip to Japan. "I mean no offense." 

"None taken" Heather responded. "It's just hard to be buddy-buddy with someone when you're their boss. But now that you're leaving...." 

As Heather tried to finish her sentence, Brett stumbled backwards and knocked a cranberry juice and vodka into Jennifer's lap. 

"You fucking idiot!" She yelled as she stood up and rushed to the bathroom, leaving Brett standing there slackjawed.

After a brief pause, Heather smiled to herself and followed Jennifer into the restroom to help her out. This was the opportunity she was looking for.

"Fuck!" Jennifer exclaimed as she tried to rub off the stain with some paper towels. 

"Don't rub it in" Heather said quickly as she grabbed some more paper towels. "Dab it lightly, here I'll show you." 

"Thanks" Jennifer said as Heather managed to get most of the cranberry juice off of her jeans. 

"No problem" she replied, glancing around to make sure no one else was in the bathroom. 

"He is such a moron" Jennifer exclaimed. "I can't believe I ever had a crush on him the way he's acting tonight." 

"Well one good thing came of it" Heather said. "At least he gave me an opportunity to talk to you alone before you left. I've got something I've got to get off my chest." 

"What's up?" Jennifer asked as Heather stood up. 

"I want you" Heather said, gazing into Jennifer's big doe eyes as the words hung heavy in the air for several long seconds.

"Excuse me?" Jennifer finally gulped, backing up until she was against the wall. Undeterred, Heather pressed closer. 

"You heard me" she said. "I've had the biggest crush on you for so long, and I want you tonight." 

"Ummmm.......I'm not sure what to say" Jennifer replied as her head started swimming. "I mean, I'm flattered, but I'm not....I'm not a...a...lesbian." 

"It's okay baby" Heather continued. "I don't want a relationship or anything, I just want to fuck you. I can teach you so much. I want to do such bad things to you and your hot little fucking body!"

Jennifer's mind was going crazy. She would never admit it to anyone, even herself, but she did have a secret fantasy about having sex with another woman. Sometimes when she masturbated she would...............STOP IT! She thought. She wasn't really considering letting Heather have her way with her was she? 

"What about your husband?" Jennifer asked, desperately trying to find a way out of this. 

"I told you" she replied. "He's out of town. You could just come back to my place and we could.....just....." 

As she finished her sentence, Heather leaned in close. She saw Jennifer close her eyes and purse her lips in anticipation of their kiss, but just as their lips were about to touch the bathroom door opened snapping Jennifer from her trance. 

"Hey Jen, everyone's asking where you went" Brooke said as she entered the bathroom. 

"I was just.....I spilled....Heather was helping...." She babbled as her face turned scarlet. 

"Someone spilled a drink on her and I was helping her clean it up" Heather interjected. 

"Oh, okay" Brooke said as she eyed them suspiciously. "Well hurry, Brett's looking for you." 

"Okay" Jennifer mumbled as Brooke left the bathroom. 

The interruption from Brooke had brought reality crashing down around Jennifer and she realized that she had almost kissed another woman. Confused, she slipped past Heather and ran toward the door. 

"I'm sorry. I'm just not into girls" she said firmly before storming out of the bathroom and back into the party. 

Heather just stood there smiling. She had her prey right where she wanted her. 

***

As the night went on, people gradually began saying their goodbyes to Jennifer and leaving until eventually there were only five or six of them left at the bar. For her part, Jennifer tried to act as naturally as possible, but every time she glanced over at Heather, the older woman would be staring at her smiling. She couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if she just let her boss do whatever she wanted to her. She imagined Heather running her fingers through her hair as they passionately kissed in front of a roaring fire. 

"You about ready to go home?" Brooke asked, snapping Jennifer out of her daydream. 

"Huh...Oh, already?" Jennifer replied. 

"What do you mean already?" Brooke asked. "The bar closes in a half an hour, you want to wait for them to kick us out?"

"No, it's just that it might be my last time seeing everyone and I'm not sure I want to leave just yet" said the pretty brunette.

"Come on Jen" Brooke whined. "There's hardly anyone left and I'm exhausted!"

"I can give her a lift" Heather said as she walked up to them. 

"Oh, that's okay" Jennifer said quickly. She had barely resisted succumbing to her lesbian passions before and wasn't ready to be put right back into the spider's web. "I don't want to put you out." 

"Oh, it's really no problem" Heather answered with a smile. "I just want you to get the maximum enjoyment out of your last night."

"No really it's...." Jennifer began but Brooke cut her off. 

"She does live about a mile from you" Brooke said, unintentionally aiding in Heather's quest to seduce the young woman. "It would save me some time and you'd get to hang out a little while longer." 

"Yeah, everyone will get what they want this way" Heather said with a quick wink that only Jennifer saw causing her to blush again and avoid the sexy blonde's gaze. 

"Unnnhhhh" Jennifer whimpered as she looked desperately at Brooke hoping her friend would save her. 

"You alright?" Brooke asked. "I mean I can stay if you really want me to." 

Jennifer thought carefully for a few minutes. It wasn't like she had to do anything with Heather was it? I mean it was just a ride home. But some part of her knew she was making a choice. She was going to have sex with another woman for the first time.

"If you're sure it's no problem Heather?" Jennifer finally said. 

"No problem at all sweetie" Heather replied. "It will truly be my pleasure." 

Jennifer gulped as Heather said this but again Brooke was oblivious to what was going on. 

"Okay then" She replied, hugging Jennifer goodbye. 

"Let me know if you get any tonight" she whispered as they broke their embrace. 

"What are you talking about?" Jennifer exclaimed wide eyed. Did her friend know? 

"Brett, dummy!" Brooke replied nodding in the direction of the young man who was passed out face down at the bar. "Or did you forget about him?" 

Ever since their bathroom encounter Jennifer had indeed forgotten about Brett and had been thinking about nothing but the sexy older blonde woman. 

"Oh, right" she said. "I'll call you." And with that Brooke left her friend with Heather. 

***

When the bar finally closed twenty minutes later, the two of them got into Heather's car and pulled out of the parking lot. It was a silent ride for most of the way, but Heather finally broke the silence as they got near to her house.

"I owe you an apology for the way I acted earlier" she said. 

"It's okay" Jennifer replied as she fiddled with her hands, unsure of what to say. "I just had no idea that you liked women." 

"Why does that surprise you so much?" Heather asked. 

"I don't know" Jennifer mumbled as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I mean, you're married and all......I just thought." 

"Well, just because I'm married, doesn't mean I don't like to have a little fun" she answered. "Haven't you ever fantasized about making love to another woman?" 

"Gross, no!" Jennifer replied instinctively. But as soon as she had said it, she wished she hadn't. Why couldn't she just admit it to herself or this woman and let her be the one to satisfy her secret yearnings. 

"Well, still in all, I'd like to make it up to you" Heather said, seeming not to be offended. "How about we head over to my place and have a drink? It's just right there and it's on the way to your place." 

"Ummm........I'm not really sure about this" Jennifer stammered as they pulled into Heather's driveway and she put the car in park. 

"What aren't you sure about?" Heather asked as she turned her gaze toward the beautiful young woman and gently stroked her hair. "It's just a drink, you either want it or you don't." 

"I want it!" Jennifer blurted, as her cheeks caught fire again when she realized how it must have sounded. "The drink I mean." 

"Of course the drink" Heather answered, playing dumb. "What did you think I meant?" 

"Nothing" Jennifer mumbled as she got out of the car. 

As Jennifer walked up the driveway in front of her, Heather watched the young woman's tight, denim clad ass sway from side to side and felt her pussy moisten as she thought of all of the naughty fun she was going to have with her new friend. So many times at work she had dreamed of fucking this pretty young woman and now she knew it was finally going to happen.

"Have a seat on the couch" Heather instructed. "I'll go get us those drinks." 

Jennifer sat down on the large leather sofa and glanced around the house as she nervously waited for Heather to come back. She glanced down at her leg and saw that it was bouncing nervously up and down. 

"What am I doing?" she thought. "I'm not a lesbian am I? Of course not. I'll just have one drink to be polite and then I'll have Heather drive me home." 

But even as Jennifer lied to herself, her body betrayed her. She glanced down and her nipples were rock hard and blatantly obvious through her shirt causing her to wish she'd warn a bra. On top of that, her pussy was wetter than she could ever remember it being. She had never been so positively, wickedly turned on or terrified in her whole life. 

"Wine okay?" Heather asked as she handed Jennifer a glass.

"It's fine" she replied before taking a big gulp. 

"I shouldn't stay too long" Jennifer blurted as she set her glass down on the table. "My mom's probably getting worried." 

"How old are you?" Heather asked as she stared at Jennifer with a hungry look in her eyes causing the younger woman to blush again. 

"Twenty" Jennifer replied. "But I still live at home." 

"Well I'm sure mommy wouldn't get too upset if you were a little late would she?" Heather asked, setting her glass down and scooting closer to Jennifer on the couch. 

"I guess not" Jennifer said meekly as she felt the goosebumps caused by Heather running her fingers lightly across her bare shoulder and underneath the strap of her shirt. 

"Besides, I'm your mommy tonight" Heather continued as she wrapped a hand around Jennifer's waist and started kissing the young woman's neck. 

Jennifer gasped but made no move to stop her. God she was horny, and this just felt so right, .........but was it? 

"I don't know" Jennifer said meekly in a last ditch effort to keep Heather from ravaging her. 

"Mmmm, you're so sexy" Heather answered, ignoring Jennifer's protests. "I see those hard fucking nipples sticking out and I think you want this more than I do. The door is right there, so if you don't want it all you have to do is leave." 

But Jennifer didn't move. She could feel Heather unbuckle her belt and pull it off before tossing it onto the floor. Jennifer's heart was beating like crazy as she felt her supervisor's hot breath on her face as she planted soft kisses on her cheek. 

"Are you nervous?" Heather asked as she unzipped Jennifer's pants and slid her hand into the young woman's panties, feeling the warm wetness of her pussy. 

"I.....uhhhhh......yesssss" Jennifer moaned as Heather rubbed her clit. "I've never done this before. I mean with another woman." 

"Do you like it so far?" Heather asked as she eased one of her fingers into Jennifer's dripping wet snatch.

"Ooooooohhhhhh, yesssss! I love it!" she moaned. 

"Good, because you're not getting any more until we clear something up" Heather answered as she abruptly stopped and looked Jennifer in the eyes. 

"Wha.....Why'd you stop?" Jennifer asked. 

"Didn't you say to me earlier tonight, and I quote 'I'm just not into chicks'?" The older woman asked. 

"I was just scared" Jennifer replied, a look of panic in her eyes as she worried that she may have messed things up or that Heather might make her start admitting some things. 

"Really?" Heather teased. "So you do like girls?"

"Don't make me say it" Jennifer begged. 

If she said it out loud, all of the pretending would be over. All of the lying to herself about her feelings would be done. If she said it out loud, she would have to admit to herself that she might indeed be a lesbian.

"Say it or we're done here" Heather said firmly. 

"Yes" Jennifer answered, barely audible. 

"What's that?" Heather continued. 

"Yes" she replied a little louder. 

"Yes what?" Heather chided. 

"Yes, I like girls" Jennifer finally said. "I always have." 

"So what do you want me to do to you?" Heather asked. She loved having the upper hand and getting Jennifer to admit what she wanted was simply delicious. 

"I want you to.......make love to me" Jennifer whispered hoarsely.

"No you don't" Heather said. "What do you really want? Tell me what you want and mommy'll give it to you. Otherwise you get nothing."

"I want you to fuck me" Jennifer finally said. 

"Louder!" 

"I want you to fuck me!!!" She repeated. 

"Beg me" Heather said. "Get on your knees in front of me and beg me for it." 

"Please fuck me!!" Jennifer begged as she knelt in front of the couch. "Please fuck me!!!! PLEASE fuck me!!!! PLEASE FUCK ME!!!!" 

Heather sat unmoved as Jennifer begged louder and louder until she was yelling her words. 

"I WANT YOU TO STICK YOUR FUCKING TONGUE IN MY HOT LITTLE PUSSY!!!" She begged. "I WANT YOU TO BE THE FIRST WOMAN I FUCK!! I WANT TO BE YOUR LITTLE FUCK TOY TONIGHT!!! I THINK ABOUT FUCKING GIRLS ALL THE TIME WHEN I'M PLAYING WITH MYSELF!!! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE FUCK MY HOT LITTLE ASS!!! PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!!!"




Hello, Goodbye



"Come here!!" Heather finally said when she was so turned on she couldn't stand it anymore. 

She pulled Jennifer up to her and began passionately kissing the younger woman as her hands greedily roamed over her ample breasts. 

"Let's get this shirt off of you so we can see those pretty tits of yours shall we?" She said as she lifted Jennifer's shirt off of her. 

"Yes, please" Jennifer moaned. "Suck on my big fucking tits baby! I've been waiting for this all night!" 

"MMMM, yummy!!" Heather cried as she cupped both of Jennifer's breasts with her hands and greedily slurped away. "You're such a horny little girl aren't you?" 

"Uh, huh!" The young woman cried. "I'm so horny for you Heather!! I'm horny for pussy!!!"

"I can see that the way those hard fucking nipples are jutting out" Heather said as she pinched Jennifer's nipples and rolled them between her fingers. "Do the boys love your tits like I do?" 

"Yes, but I don't care about boys anymore!!" She said. "I'm your little lesbo slut!!!"

"So now the truth comes out eh?" Heather teased before pulling Jennifer close and kissing her hard. 

Heather's hands roamed down Jennifer's bare back to her ass as the two women passionately French kissed. 

"I've wanted to get into your pants for so long" Heather whispered in between kisses. "Can I?" 

"Ohhhh, Please!!" Jennifer begged. "I want you to eat my pussy!!!" 

Heather just flipped Jennifer back onto her back and grabbed her feet. Barely taking the time to toss the younger woman's shoes off she grabbed Jennifer's jeans at the ankles and yanked them off leaving her clad in only a little pair of lacy purple panties. 

"Ooohhh, you little slut!" Heather chided. "Who'd you wear those pretty little panties for? Brett?" 

"I did" Jennifer admitted. "But I don't want him anymore, I don't want boys at all. You're the one who gets to fuck me tonight!" 

"That's right" Heather said as she grabbed the sides of Jennifer's panties. "I get to fuck your hot little dyke ass!! So who's your mommy?" 

"You are" Jennifer moaned as Heather waited for the right answer before sliding the panties off. "You're my mommy and I'm your little dyke slut!!!" 

"Good girl" Heather said with a smile as she peeled off the lacy fabric revealing Jennifer's sopping wet snatch. "Now I'm going to show you what good girls get!" 

Heather lowered her face to Jennifer's pussy and slowly began to work her tongue into the hole before pinching her clit and running circles across it with her tongue. 

"Oooooohhhhhh FUCK YES!!!!" Jennifer moaned as she arched her back up to meet Heather's mouth. "Please eat my pussy baby!!! Just like tha...ahhh....att!!!!" 

"You love having your pussy eaten by a woman don't you?" Heather teased as she worked one of her fingers into Jennifer's cunt. 

"Yesssss, I ahhhh, love it mommy!!!" She cried. "Please don't stop fucking me!!!!"

Slurp, slurp, slurp came the sounds of Heather sucking away at Jennifer's clit as she introduced her new apprentice to the joys of Sapphic love making. 

"Oooohhhh, I THINK I'M GONNA COME!!!" Jennifer screamed as she bucked her hips. 

"Come for me baby!!" Heather cheered. "Come all over mommy's face!! Let this woman make you feel like no boy ever could!" 

"UNNNGGGHHH, OOOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUUUCCKKK YESSSSSS!!!" Jennifer moaned as she had the most intense orgasm of her life, drenching Heather's mouth and hands in love juice. 

"Here, taste your pussy juice" Heather giggled as she let Jennifer suck the come off of her fingers before making out with her young lover yet again. 

"What are you thinking?" Heather asked as she started sucking on Jennifer's huge tits again as her chest heaved. 

"I think that men suck" Jennifer laughed. "And I think I love the taste of pussy."

"Really?" Heather teased. "Well I think you're in luck because I'm gonna let you eat my pussy. You want that don't you?" 

"Uh, huh" Jennifer said as Heather gently bit one of her nipples causing her to squirm. "I've just.....I've never....done that before." 

"But you've fantasized about it right?" Heather asked, already knowing the answer but trying to get Jennifer to admit more.

"Yeah, I guess" Jennifer answered meekly. 

"So who have you fantasized about?" Heather asked pointedly. 

"I don't know" Jennifer blushed. 

"Tell me or you don't get to lick my pussy" Heather said. "I'll take off one piece of clothing for every name you give me." 

"Nicole Roveno" Jennifer said as Heather unbuttoned and removed her shirt. "That cute little Italian girl. I always thought she was cute." 

"Who else?" Heather continued.

"Stacey Thompson. I know she's only eighteen, but she's so fucking cute." Jennifer admitted and off came the skirt, leaving Heather in just her bra and panties besides the black garter belt and stockings she wore. 

"Also, Karen Hanes." Jennifer went on. "I've masturbated so many times late at night thinking about her. You know she used to be an NFL cheerleader for the Falcons?"

"I did know that" Heather said as she slid off her bra. "Karen's been over here before, but that's a story for another time. Right now, all I've got left is my panties, so who else?" 

Jennifer thought for a moment. She shouldn't tell her about..........no, she would never admit to that. 

"You" Jennifer finally said. "I used to imagine having to fuck you to get my raise." 

"And now look at you here" Heather said as she smiled and slid off her panties. But as Jennifer started to crawl over to her she stopped her. 

"One more" Heather said. "And you know who I'm talking about." 

"Don't make me say it" Jennifer pleaded, but she knew it was no use. "She's my best friend." 

"Tell me" Heather demanded. "Who else do you fantasize about?" 

"Brooke" Jennifer finally said as the tears brimmed in her eyes. "I know it's wrong cause she's my friend, but I just want her so badly. I think about fucking her all the time. She has no idea how much she tortures me with those sexy little outfits she wears." 

"So why don't you get her?" Heather asked. "Why don't you go and get the girl of your dreams?" 

"She'd freak out if I tried anything" Jennifer replied. "She's as straight as they get." 

"So were you until tonight" Heather answered, arching her eyebrows as her words sunk in to Jennifer's mind. "Now, come get what you really want." 

Jennifer just smiled and wiped the tears out of her eyes as she gazed across the couch at the sexy blonde sitting naked with her legs spread. She was about to eat pussy for the first time in her life after dreaming about it for years. 

She slowly crawled over to where Heather sat and lowered her head to the older woman's pussy. 

"That's it baby" Heather whispered as Jennifer lightly flicked her tongue out over her clit. After getting her first light taste of Heather's pussy, Jennifer ran the whole front of her tongue up the length of Heather's snatch, soaking in the musky taste of her snatch. 

"Mmmmmm, somebody's been doing their homework" Heather moaned as Jennifer slurped away at her pussy. "Oooohhhh, you're making mommy feel soooooo good!!!" 

Heather grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs toward her body allowing Jennifer to bury her tongue deeper in her pussy. 

"Oooohhh, you're a freaky little dyke aren't you?" She groaned as Jennifer spread her ass cheeks and buried her tongue into Heather's asshole. 

"Mmmmmm, I love licking your ass baby!" Jennifer said with a smile as she moved her attention back to Heather's pussy and slid her finger into her ass instead. "I wanna make you come as good as you made me come!" 

"Ohhh, Fuck Yesssss!!! You're so fucking good at this Jennifer!!!" Heather cried as the young woman pumped he finger into her asshole and gently licked and sucked away at her clit. "Pleeeeaaaasseee MAKE ME COMMMMMEEEEE!!!" 

Jennifer loved the rush of making this woman feel so good and she started sucking as hard as she good on Heather's clit while she worked her finger back and forth in her asshole. 

"Ohhh, BABY YESSSSS!!! MOMMY'S CUMMMMINNGGG!!!" She screamed as she reached her climax. 

"Mmmmm, lick up all that pussy juice baby!" Heather said as she caught her breath. "Don't you leave a fucking drop!"

Jennifer had no intention of leaving any of Heather's come unslurped as she cleaned her pussy with her tongue before crawling up into her arms again. 

"That was so fucking good baby" Heather moaned in between kisses, all the while she continued squeezing and playing with Jennifer's big tits. "Did you like your first time with a woman." 

"Oh yes" Jennifer replied. "I don't ever want to fuck a man again, I only want to fuck girls!" 

Heather just laughed and lightly ran her fingernails along Jennifer's back as they laid naked together on the couch. After kissing for a while later Jennifer gazed up into Heather's eyes with a look of desire. 

"What else can you show me?" She asked, clearly not ready for the evening to end. 

"Well there are some other things" Heather replied hesitantly. "But maybe we should call it an evening." 

"What, Why?" Jennifer asked. "You've opened up my eyes so much already, I want to do it all." 

"Well........No, you're not ready for that yet" Heather said, stopping herself. 

"Not ready for what?" Jennifer demanded. 

"Well I've had some girls come upstairs to my bedroom with me, but they were bad girls" She replied. "You seem like a sweet girl, and I don't want to corrupt you yet." 

"I want to be bad" Jennifer blurted. "I told you I'm ready to be your fuck toy, that I'd do anything you want, now take me to your bedroom!" 

"You are such a spoiled little brat" Heather teased. "Maybe you are a bad girl. Maybe I should take you upstairs and do nasty things to your sexy little body." 

"Please, Please, Please" Jennifer begged, crawling onto the floor on her knees again for emphasis. "Please treat me like the fucking brat I am! Take me upstairs and fuck me some more!!!"

"Okay" Heather relented. "But I'm not going to be nice to you if we go upstairs. Are you sure you want this?" 

"Yes" Jennifer begged. "I want it!! I need it!!" 

"THEN GET THE FUCK UP!!!" Heather screamed, changing her tone immediately and slapping Jennifer on the cheek. 

At first Jennifer was taken aback by the slap, but it also turned her on. She felt her nipples hardening again and slowly stood up. 

"I SAID GET THE FUCK UP THOSE STAIRS!!!!" Heather yelled as she grabbed Jennifer's erect nipples and pinched them hard. 

"Owww!!" She moaned instinctively but then headed toward the stairs to the bedroom. 

"You liked that didn't you, you fucking little slut?" Heather asked. 

"Y-Yess" Jennifer stammered. 

"Yes what?" Heather demanded. 

"Yes mommy" she answered. 

"Get on the bed bitch!!" Heather instructed when they reached the bedroom. "On your hands and knees!!!"

Jennifer hopped onto the bed on all fours and glanced back at Heather to see what she was doing.

"TURN THE FUCK AROUND WHORE!!!" She yelled before slapping Jennifer hard on the ass several times. "You don't need to see what I'm doing! You belong to me and you do what I tell you to do, you got that?"

"Yes mommy" Jennifer said. 

"Mmmm, such a pretty little ass" Heather continued as she pulled the strap on from her dresser drawer and slid it on. "I can't wait to bury this fucking thing in it." 

"Wh-WHAT?" Jennifer asked, eyes wide in terror. She had never let anyone put something in her ass, not a finger, not a dick, nothing. She instinctively turned around to see what Heather had when she felt a stinging slap on her ass again. 

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING LOOK AT ME BITCH!!!" Heather yelled. "Now you're going to get punished for that!" 

She grabbed a couple of clothespins from the dresser and clipped them onto Jennifer's still hard nipples. 

"Ouch, I'm sorry mommy" Jennifer pleaded. "I won't look again, just please don't put that thing in my asshole!"

"You had your chance to do good girl things with me" Heather replied. "But bad girls get buttfucked!! So I'll ask you one last time, are you a good girl or are you a bad girl?"

Jennifer's mind was spinning out of control. Just say good girl she thought. Just say good girl and don't let her take this last little shred of dignity from you. If you say bad girl, you're her bitch forever, do you really want that? 

"I'm a.......I'm a........" Jennifer stammered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm a.........BAD GIRL!!! I'M A BAD FUCKING GIRL AND I NEED TO GET FUCKED IN THE ASS BY YOU MOMMY!!!! PLEASE FUCK MY BAD LITTLE ASS, I'M YOUR BITCH AND I WANT IT!!!"

"That's what I thought" Heather replied with a wicked grin on her face. She bent down low to Jennifer's asshole and worked her tongue over it before sliding inside at least an inch deep. 

"Ooooohhhh, yessss, Please lick my slutty fucking asshole!!!" Jennifer moaned as she reached back with one hand and rubbed her own clit. 

After lubing up her asshole with saliva, Heather crawled up behind Jennifer and worked the head of the strap on into her ass. 

"FUCK THAT HURTS!!!" Jennifer moaned. "BUT I WANT IT ALL INSIDE ME!!! I'M YOU'RE FUCKING LESBO SLUT, SO PLEASE START FUCKING MY ASS!!!!" 

"That's right, you're my fucking lesbian slut!" Heather cried as she pumped the dildo into the young woman's virgin ass. "You'd never let the boys fuck your ass. You wanted it to be a woman, you wanted it to be me!!!" 

"I DID!!!" Jennifer cried. "I'M DONE WITH BOYS!!! JUST FUCK ME MOMMY!!! FUCK ME MOMMY!!!! FUUUUUCCCKKKKK MMMEEEE!!!" 

Jennifer's face was smacking into the headboard of the bed with every thrust, her nipples had clothespins stuck on them and she was letting her supervisor do something that no man had ever been allowed to. She was humiliated, but loved every minute of it. 

"Rub that clit baby!!!" Heather demanded as she slapped Jennifer's ass. "Come for mommy again!!" 

"I WILL!!! I'LL COME FOR YOU MOMMY!!!" Jennifer screamed. "I JUST WANT TO PLEASE YOU!!!! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, I'M FUCKING COMMMMINNNNGGG!!!!"

If her orgasm on the couch had been a ten on the pleasure scale then this one was a 100. Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body as her orgasm hit. 

The two women finally collapsed in a heap on the bed where Heather removed the clothespins and softly cuddled with her lover before sleep washed over them. 

A short while later Jennifer awoke naked in Heather's arms and quietly crawled out of the bed. She wasn't quite sure what the emotions she was feeling were. Was she embarrassed? Maybe a little, some of the things they had done were humiliating and she'd probably be walking around quite gingerly for the next few days. Was she in love? Not with Heather, that was for sure. They had had a great time, but that was all it was. No, what she was really feeling was freedom. The freedom that comes when one opens up their eyes and discovers who they really are. A new chapter was about to open in her life with a new job and a new found sexual identity and she had Heather to thank for her evolution. 

As she snuck downstairs and picked out her clothes from the pile strewn on the floor, Jennifer saw a pen and paper and left a note on the coffee table. 

Dear Heather,

Thanks for the wonderful evening and showing me who I really am. I just decided to walk home tonight for the fresh air, but I just want you to know that I'll never forget tonight. We'll probably never see each other again, but if you we ever do, maybe next time you'll be calling me mommy, lol. Anyway, thanks again, but right now I've got to go catch up with Brooke and see if I can get the girl of my dreams.

Love Always,

Jen Young

THE END



Hello, Goodbye



Funerals aren't so bad. I can zone out of the soft soothing words from the pulpit and grab an open eyed nap, with the heady scent of melted candle wax, wood polish, and that rich smoky incense at the Catholic shindigs, gently teasing my senses; as I try not to snore, or dribble. Being of no fixed religion I limit my visits to houses of worship strictly to when duty calls, like weddings, christenings and funerals. 

I hate crying babies almost as much as I hate smug happy couples, so funerals are the holy productions I dread the least.

While my big clumsy sausage fingers prod impatiently at my over priced, sweatshop constructed, mind of its own sat nav, I'm once again forced to pluck a random street number out of my backside when prompted. 

St Patrick's of Ballytorr is frustratingly like every other church I've encountered. Happy to appear all trendy and informative with their online presence and fancy websites, they persistently buck convention and simply don't bother with street numbers in their contact details. Not a one. They must assume anyone who needs to will just find them, their feet and cars driven by the power of prayer. 

Being a total stranger to the town i've no idea how long or short Cushdun Road is. The giant number 50 on my neighbours wheelie bin, empty and carelessly abandoned on the shared driveway in front of me, is as good a number as any. I can just hope for a conveniently ostentatious spire I can spot for miles.

Just one risky three point turn, and a wonky reverse manoeuvre when I overshot the entrance, and I've made it, just as the priest is parading up the aisle with his posse of mini priest minions behind him. Or altar boys. Altar children? Even the Catholic church is not immune to the interference of equal opportunity laws, permitting the Toms, Dicks, and now Harriets, of the parish to carry the crucifix; be a human bible bookmark; ding the bell. 

I allow them to gain a bit of ground so I don't look like I'm deliberately joining the tail end of their solemn conga, then shuffle up as quickly and quietly as my slippy best dress shoes allow on the marble floor. 

The small church is jam packed. A thorough scour of the pews for a healthy man sized space has led me all the way to the second row from the front, the white lily strewn coffin within intimate touching distance. Two balding middle aged men and a young, attractive brunette are spread out along the left, but soon shuffle up to make space for me on the end of the pew. 

Brunette hands me an order of service with a warm smile. I take it and throw her the universal rolly eyes, apologetic 'Bloody hell! Thought I'd never get here!' expression, unfasten the bottom button on my suit jacket and settle in for the duration.

I barely knew my boss, having just started at the small family run drawing offices around two months ago. I'm sorely tempted to turn and have a nosy at the congregation, see how many of my new colleagues have turned up, but it's hard to do a discreet recce when plonked up front like Big Chief Mourner. I'm pretty certain of a decent turn out from Boyd's Designs though. 

They were all visibly upset when the news of his massive heart attack speedily pinged around the office like a ghoulish, doom laden pinball one morning last week. Billy was deemed firm but fair by everyone. He was certainly very understanding when I couldn't start my contract on the date he'd suggested. I'd my yearly 'Lads in Lanzarote' boozefest already booked for the first week in August, and Boyd's are one of the dying breed of local businesses in Northern Ireland who still insist on the traditional Twelfth Fortnight in July be taken as non-negotiable annual leave, plus a week in September, imaginatively titled The September Week. No choice. Building gets cleared, doors locked. Away and have a holiday for yourself. Mind you, they are also one of the last bastions of the wee brown holiday pay envelope, tax free cash, so that eases any resulting inconvenience a fair bit.

As usual I forego the prayer option, stretch my lanky legs beyond the long kneeling stool and allow my mind to wander, just as the final strains of the opening hymn begin to fade out. Brunette has nice ankles and dainty feet. White lily's smell like death. Billy hadn't struck me as a lily kind of man. Billy. 12th July. Catholic church. Convert? How very Tony Blair. The priest's lilting North West brogue breaks into my meandering thoughts with a tiny squeak of microphone feedback, and the show is officially rolling.

"We gather here today to celebrate the life of Agnes McCormac, who has now returned to her home with Our God, The Father." A panicked assessment of neighbouring faces confirms it's my error, and not that of the priest confidently holding court up ahead.

"Shite." It's slipped out, in barely a whisper between my gritted teeth, but the whole front row of genuine chief mourners turn, shocked eyebrows raised in my direction. 

"Sorry. So sorry, it's just shi... shocking, still shocking. Poor Agnes. Sorry..." I indicate the end of my hushed apology with an 'I'm done now, dramatic emotional scene over, as you were.' raised palm. Mortified, I close my eyes like it's all too much. I want to keep them closed forever, or at least until the communion wafers have been doled out, final hymn sung and Agnes bloody McCormac has been shunted back down the aisle on the shoulders of her loving family, with the rest of the congregation following behind. 

It's too late to duck back out, find St Patrick's For Protestants, slip in the back, offer my condolences to Billy's wife and sons, my new bosses afterward... Isn't it? 

What fancy tricks did old snake chaser Pat get up to in Ballytorr to be honoured with both churches named after him anyway? And on the same road? Mind you, this is the back end of nowhere, probably not many roads in Ballytorr at all, but still! Similar muddles must surely be common enough to warrant a visual alert of sorts out front. Bible shaped signage announcing name of deceased? Perhaps a photograph? Preferably taken when still alive. In fact definitely. As the perpetually undecided Clash are so fond of asking 'should I stay or should I go now?'.

I spot, rather belatedly, the personalised cover on the order of service and run my fingertips over it, as if in reverence to dear Agnes, but I'm really twisting my wrist, discreetly trying to read the time on my watch. Before I can see what the big hand on my trusty Sekonda is getting up to, a small scarlet fingernail tipped hand is covering mine, gently lifting it and opening the booklet, helpfully pointing out which part of the service the priest is now on. I look up to signal my thanks and become locked in a gaze with the warmest eyes in the prettiest face. I've never seen the like of these two big bright green pools, with a dark golden sunburst emanating from their black fathomless cores before. Mesmerising. 

My critical, borderline OCD brain notes that one is sat a fraction higher than the other, and it's not immediately clear if both are actually focused in my direction, but one definitely is, and that's good enough for me. Bye bye Billy, hello and farewell Agnes.

Aside from letting out a tiny snore, questionably disguised as a cough during the lull after communion, and holding up the sign of peace handshake chain by gripping on to Brunette's tiny paw with my big sweaty one for a tad too long, I've survived the service. Being the gentleman I like to pretend I am, I step back to allow Brunette to exit the pew before me, quickly blocking the escape of her two baldy buddies who try to slip out behind her. Reaping my reward I enjoy the view of her pert backside squeezed into a tight black skirt suit, walking ahead of me down the aisle toward the sweet relief of the wide open double doors. 

Old Agnes must've enjoyed her food, the pallbearers have barely stopped blinking at the midday sun greeting us outside the dark stone church and a staggering, exhausted scuffle has broken out. The ghostly pale head honcho in the long black frock coat and top hat is pointing a transparent boney finger at the first of the congregation out of the traps, to take over the coffin carrying. Bloody hell, what if he picks me? I duck down as quick as a reverse jack in the box and tug on the lace of my right shoe, fingers fumbling with the stiff black cord.

"Need a hand there?" For the second time in an hour those vampy tipped fingers cover mine, one tug and the knot on my shoe is unravelled and lying, lace ends akimbo, on the dusty ground. 

"I get the heebiejeebies carrying coffins too. C'mere and I'll do a double bow on this, yer man will have found enough volunteers by then eh? I'm Ruth by the way, I don't know you, do I? Are you one of the Rafferty's? You're tall and fair like the Rafferty's".

"Mark. My name's Mark, hi, lovely to meet you Ruth." The double bow tied, I take her hand and give it yet another firm shake, in flirtation this time, not in peace. A quick glance up and I see we are off the hook as six overly burdened shoulders have begun a slow parade behind the long black hearse creeping forward in front of them. Keeping hold of Ruth's hand I pull her up with me. We both stand looking on with guilty smiles at the receding coffin, bobbing above a small mob of heads now that the church has emptied. 

"That's not a bad day for it, it usually pishes down or blows a gale when I go to funerals". I cringe at my crude turn of phrase, not exactly romantic, or fitting to the pious environment.

"Aye, or both! I've lost more brollys in graveyards than I can count. Were you at Joe Rafferty's funeral last year? The wind nearly blew the priest into the grave after Joe, he almost lost his wig! Think it was a wig, if it wasn't it should have been, it had no business being called hair, I swear, it was like a giant steel grey walnut whip".

"With or without the nut on top?'"

"Sure his big nut was under it Mark!'". I bellow out a proper loud chuckle, but then pause to enjoy the sound of this witty, chatty, pretty girl's laugh. It wheezes and yet tinkles like a bell at the same time, her gorgeous wonky eyes creasing up at the corners. Mistaking my sudden silence for respect she claps a hand to cover her mouth, mortified.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm laughing at my Aunt's funeral! I'll be excommunicated from the family!"

"Think you're safe, that last lot must've been athletes, look at the distance they've covered, fair play to them." I nod toward where the throng have stopped on the road just beyond the church gates, admitting defeat and preparing to stow Agnes into the back of the hearse. A light wind swirls from nowhere, blowing autumn leaves around our ankles. Grabbing the excuse to touch her again I lightly place a hand on her glossy brown hair.

"C'mon Ruth, I'll keep your wig on for ya, lets go!'" Giggling, we zigzag wildly up the front drive of the church toward the carpark, her nudging my ribs, half heartedly shaking my hand off her head. Coming to a laughing stop I eye up the only two cars left. My silver Ford Fiesta at one side, and a bottle green and wood veneered Morris Minor on the other.

"Is THAT your car?" I ask, pointing to the motoring relic, unable to match it with this modern and rather smartly dressed girl.

"Ha! No, it's probably that Fr McPriestyBob's car. Aw shite! That's my lift right there, nice of them to wait for me." she points forlornly at a shiny black limo disappearing over the hill and out of sight. Abandoning any chance to catch up with my workmates to sink a pint or five for our dearly departed boss, I find myself offering her a lift to the graveyard.

"C'mon, hop in, you can save me getting lost, I can never find this graveyard the first time." Or anytime in fact. Miraculously, despite a fifteen minute journey filled with constant and distracting laughter, we make it to the graveyard before Agnes has disappeared down into her new resting place, but only just. Ruth bolts out of the car and runs toward her family already gathered at the graveside, her shout of thanks carries to me in the light gust of wind that has reappeared. 

I walk to the edge of the crowd sprawled out, huddled in small groups respectfully balancing between graves, new and old. Too far away to hear the service I'm alerted to it ending by the backs of heads turning into a sea of faces looming toward me. Carried along by the mass exodus I reach my car just as the first of the limos carrying family pass by. I pick out Ruth's shiny brown hair in the back of one and allow my shoulders to slump in disappointment.

A lingering trace of her flowery perfume hits my nostrils as I feed into the line of cars slowly rolling out of the graveyard. I didn't even get to say goodbye. At a loss for what to do next I blindly follow the convoy and mentally kick myself for yet another missed opportunity in life . As the long straight road turns into a T junction everyone is turning right, so I join them. A red tail of blinking indicator lights snake off to the left into a small, tired looking hotel, and for want of any other ideas, I follow them in.

The pungent scent of vegetable soup and stale beer greets me as I enter the function room. A line of hungry mourners has already gathered at the buffet tables at the back, so I turn to the bar and order a pint of shandy and contemplate my next move. A pang of guilt hits me as the barman refuses to take payment, informing me it's a free bar for funeral goers. 

"Hey, you made it! All by yourself too, good boy!" Ruth is suddenly smiling up at me cheekily, both hands balancing cups and saucers of treacle coloured tea. 

"Hold on a wee minute, I just need to go water the grannies, get me a glass of white wine, back in a tick!"

True to her word she returns, before her wine has even been poured. We take a seat on the stools lining the bar and her knees clash against mine as we both turn to face each other. Worried she will disappear again I decide to go straight for it.

"So Ruth, I know this isn't exactly the best time and place, but, would you like to go out for a proper drink some time?" I watch her face and those green pools light up, but no sooner has her mouth joined in to smile back at me, it straightens into a serious expression.

"Mark I'd love to, but i'm actually seeing someone. Well I was. No, I am. He's actually mar ... Ach it's complicated, sorry. To be honest, we've been seeing each other on and off for over three years. To cut a long story not so short, I gave him an ultimatum over a week ago and he's been in a silent huff ever since, the idiot. It's not like he isn't old enough to know better. Definitely old enough." Those smiling eyes, to my horror, suddenly fill up, big glistening tears threatening to spill.

"I'm so sorry! Quick, distract me, I'm an ugly crier, tell me about you! What do you work at? A big lad like you... Let me guess, a fireman?" she chokes out a fake laugh through her tears. Crushed with disappointment but trying to look cool about it, I keep it light.

"Nah, nothing so glamorous i'm afraid. I scribble for a living. A draughtsman. Just moved to a small family firm recently, not too far from here actually."

"Oh? Who is that? I'm a PA for a team of architects in Belfast, I might know them, it's a small world". Her face brightens up a fraction, then tears build again. 

"Boyd's Designs?"

"Ha! Boyd's? Seriously? You work for Billy?"

"Well, did. I did work for Billy, erm, ya see, I've a wee confession. Funny story really. Ok so, i've never met your Aunty Agnes. I was at the wrong church today. Did you know there's another church called St Patrick's on Cushdun Road? What's that about? I wonder if any of Agnes's mourners ended up..."

"DID work for Billy? Who else was buried today Mark? Tell me!" She bolts up straight in her stool, the knees that had been pressed so cosily up to mine suddenly nudge into me, hard, my stool swings right around. I grab the bar with both hands, poised to push myself back around to face her again.

"Billy. It was Billy Boyd. I'm sorry, did you know him well?" Silence. I spin back to face an empty stool, and Ruth slumped to her knees on the grubby old carpet, anguished tears flowing freely now. 

I guess she did know him well. Small world indeed.