11 comments/  75590 views/  20 favorites

The Trouble With Emily Ch. 01

By: Miltone



Author's Note: This is the first part of a four-part story. If you are looking for a quickie "stroke and cum" story you might want to select something else to read. For those who enjoy plot and character development and a long build-up to a rousing conclusion, please feel free to follow along this special tale.

Mitchell couldn't remember exactly the first time he had seen Emily, but he could certainly remember the first time he noticed her. Sure, there was the first time they met but that hardly counts. He was so concerned that day with only the basic necessities, food, shelter, warmth, and his kids. The way he looked upon her then was far, far different from the way he looked at her now. Was it the day after her ... or was it the day before? But wait, I'm already jumping ahead of the story and really need to go back to the beginning. Let's start a little over a year ago, when it was almost fall and Mitchell was sitting on his backyard deck having a beer with his old friend, Stuart.

* * *

"So what are you going to do, Mitch?" Stuart asked calmly and rationally. "You've got a business trip coming up next month. You can't leave your kids home alone."

"I know ... I know," Mitchell replied with a resigned exasperation. He leaned his tall broad-shouldered frame forward and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. It felt as if the there were a pair of 16-ton weights hanging on his shoulders. But his shoulders were broad and he squared them up immediately.

"So what are you going ..." Stuart began to say but was cut off abruptly.

"I KNOW!" Mitchell said sharply. "I'll come up with something. I always do. You know me. Mr. Resourceful." He looked over at his old friend long and hard. Stuart was shorter and younger and always livelier, but after all they had been through together, he was perhaps Mitchell's best friend. The weight of the past few months all seemed to be crashing down on him, the unexpected passing of his wife, Angela, the sorting out of all his feelings over that and many other previous issues with her, and then working through all the necessary details that ensued all too quickly. And his kids-Mitchell's teenaged daughter and 10-year-old son-needed help and attention every single day. Mitchell had just gotten to the point where he felt even just a little bit comfortable with his new life, the challenges, the fright, the uncertainties all inclusive. Sure he felt like he was clinging to the edge of a cliff most of the time, but at least he had a fighting chance and wasn't joining those who had lost their grip and were tumbling into the abyss. But now the near future was poking sharply into his hard fought comfort zone.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man," Stuart said, his apologetic feelings easily detected in the tone of his voice. "You always know that if you get stuck or anything, Allison and I can take them for a few days. They get along with our own brats pretty well. We can just toss them into a big pile and let 'em sort it out themselves."

"Nah, I couldn't impose on you guys ... we'll be fine. I'll find a sitter or something," Mitchell said with a big sigh. Somehow he had managed. He always did. Somehow things always got done, maybe not the way he might have preferred, but they got done just the same. "It's just that sometimes ... sometimes it's just all too much for me," he added with a sardonic laugh. "And I had always thought that I could do it all ... till now."

"We're here for you, man," Stuart replied, putting his arm around Mitchell's shoulders. "Anything, anytime."

"Thanks!" came Mitchell's reply. "Appreciate it!"

They had finished their beers and Mitchell walked his best friend through the house toward the front door. Stuart and Mitchell had been friends since just after college. Stuart's wife, Allison, and Mitchell's late wife, Angela, had become best friends for many years, and in the weeks since Angela had died, Allison had been a godsend, helping out with the kids, making sure that doctor's appointments and trips to the dentist were kept. But the time had come for Mitchell to stand on his own, and moved away from the shelter that his good friends had all too readily provided. Before leaving, Stuart paused on the front porch for a moment.

"Say, you remember John Dole from Cub Scouts, don't you?" Stuart asked.

"Yeah, I remember him."

"Well, remember when he and Carrie split up? They hired a nanny for the kids. Kind of follows the kids back and forth between their houses and looks after them. Maybe you could call him and check into that."

"Fuck! I can't afford something like that," Mitchell laughed. "Maybe when I make VP or something. But not now."

"I'm telling you, buddy. Remember that last one they had ... what was her name ... something exotic ... something like, Mary Doll ... Margie Doll ... something like that?"

"Sweet little blue-eyed brunette with the killer bod and sexy Danish accent?" Mitchell asked.

"Yeah, that's her," Stuart said with a laugh. "So you do remember her, eh?"

"Not at all!" Mitchell lied with some exaggeration. He easily remembered checking out Dole's nanny a few times at Scout meetings and feeling just a twinge of jealousy, but just a twinge. It wasn't like he was truly jealous because he knew that John wouldn't dare touch the hired help due to his divorce agreement.

Stuart punched Mitchell's shoulder sharply. "Go on! Call him, man. Maybe you can get someone short term. It's for your kids, dude. And it would give you a chance to get out once in a while and do something for yourself too. "

"I know, I know," Mitchell replied. "But that has got to be so expensive. I can't afford a fricking nanny, Stu." 

"How do you know? Time's a wasting, Mitch," Stuart replied. The two friends leveled their eyes together. "Speaking about wasting time, how's your love life been treating you?"

"Love life? Ha! Like I have time for that."

"That's what I'm talking about, Mitch. You get yourself somebody in here to look after of the kids and you can start circulating again. Know what I mean?"

"I don't know, Stu. I'm not sure if I can start all over again. It's been so long ..."

"What's up with you, man? You've got a great opportunity here. You're single again, you've got a lot going for you, and as I remember you were pretty successful with the ladies back in the day."

"Right! When we were both twenty-somethings with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nobody's going to want a used up old fart like me with a couple of kids hanging around."

"Suit yourself, Mitch," Stuart said. "Just don't sell yourself short. There's somebody out there for you. But you won't find out until you get out there and start looking. Hey, I've got to get going."

With a handshake and a brief goodbye, Stuart strutted down the front walk toward his Bimmer roadster and hopped in. Mitchell remained on the front porch for a long while after his friend had roared off. He lingered to watch the colors of the sunset glow along the horizon and took a deep breath. Red light at night, sailor's delight! The warm shading of the sunset cast a rosy glow over his neighborhood. It was a friendly place to live, an older Victorian era town with great schools, affable neighbors, and large roomy homes spaced comfortably apart. He needed to drink in as much of this good feeling as possible for he was so woefully unprepared for this single father lifestyle. Angela had always done everything with the kids, even after they had discovered her cancer, and even through all the chemo and alternative therapies, she had always done half of everything. It was only after she had died that Mitchell realized all of the things that she had always done and that now fell into his inadequate lap. 

But Mitchell was determined to see this through. His kids came first in his life now; everything else would have to wait. He could do this. He would do this, no matter the circumstances or sacrifices. As he closed the front door and turned away, he heard the sound of his kids upstairs haggling over something ridiculously stupid. He quickly shifted gears into his single dad mode. "Ward Cleaver never had to deal with this," he said aloud to himself. "Where is June when I need her?" 

Then he jumped up the stairs, sorted out this latest domestic squabble, and spent the rest of the evening first making sure things were set for the kids next day at school. It took another hour or so to review his presentation to an important client the next morning, and then ended the evening making lunches for all of them before falling into bed weary and worried. What the fuck am I gonna do next month? Angela was always there when I had to go away on business. I never gave a single second thought to it, he thought. Then he remembered what Stuart had said. Maybe he should call John Dole and see what that nanny business was all about.

* * *

The next day he called up John Dole just after lunch.

"Long time, no hear, Mitch," Dole said. "I was so sorry to hear about Angela. How are things going for you?"

"Well enough I guess," Mitchell replied. "But that's sort of why I was calling."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, with my job and the kids and the house and all it's hard to keep everything in the same sack," Mitchell remarked.

"You're telling me!" John exclaimed with a chuckle. "If it wasn't for our nanny, Ludmila, I don't know what I would do."

"How's that working out for you guys?" Mitchell asked with obvious interest.

"Great! She travels back and forth between Carrie's place and mine," Dole said. "Makes sure the kids get to and from school, do their homework, get to the doctors and dentist, the full nine yards. And she still has time for her own college work. Gives me a little time to have a social life too."

"So how does it work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you advertise for her or what?"

"Hell, no. We went through an agency," Dole replied. "Actually Carrie is the one who arranges it. She does all the interviews and shit. You know, I think she picks the best looking ones just to tease me. I mean, she knows I could never screw around with the hired help, so she gets the choice ones just to spite me. Remember, Marjedahl from last year?"

"Do I ever!" Mitchell replied emphatically. "But that has to be pretty expensive."

"Not as much as you might think," Dole went on. "I'll tell you, we provide room, board, tuition and a little spending money." Dole paused for a moment and drew a breath. "So what's this about? You thinking of getting a girl yourself?"

"Well," said Mitchell slowly. "It's so hard to keep up with the kids and my career and everything else that's on the table. I was thinking ..."

"Tell you what, Mitch, I'll have Carrie get in touch with you, maybe email you the phone number of the agency we work with. I'm sure that you can work something out."

And John followed through, good guy that he is. Mitchell was surprised to hear Carrie's voice when she called the next day. She sounded excited.

"You'll just love having someone to help," Carrie remarked enthusiastically. "I don't know what I would do without Ludmila, the one we have now. She is such a great help. I can't imagine how you can do without someone, being a full time working parent like you."

"It hasn't been easy, let me tell you," Mitchell replied. "So what do I have to do?"

"I'll give you the number to call," Carrie began. "You have to fill out an application and go through an interview at your home with the kids and all. Then they line up the best fits and you get to pick the one you feel would be best."

"Sounds easy enough," Mitchell remarked. 

"It works great," Carrie cooed. "I just love the girls that John and I have used over the years. And the kids like it too. In our case it sort of gives them a little continuity that's missing between the two of us."

It sounded appealing. Carrie gave him the number to call and Mitchell followed through that very afternoon. He filled out the form online and waited a few days to hear back. The agency called him in and by the time he was through, Mitchell had talked to nearly twenty different girls and women. There were some who seemed to have stepped right out of the pages of a Mary Poppins novel, all prim and proper and lacking only the fine British accent and the ability to fly. But they all seemed a little stuffy. There were some who were very young and very inexperienced. There were some who were foreign born. There were some who were very attractive, and from the way they eyed him, maybe a little too sexy to have hanging around the house. 

Then there was Emily. She was very tall and quite trim, a recent college graduate with a degree in Preschool Education, currently working toward her Masters degree in developmental psychology. She was quite attractive, but not in the overtly sexual way that some of the other applicants had been. Her hair was a dark red almost chestnut in color, her eyes a dark bluish green, and her skin was lush and smooth. She came to the interview dressed conservatively and had the most endearing smile. But the moment that she met the kids was what clinched it in Mitchell's mind, the way her smile lit up and the way his kids took to her right away, especially his son Timothy who had been a little introverted every since his mother had died. Mitchell felt so relieved when he got home that he called up Stuart and John with the news. For the first time in several weeks he was able to take a drink out onto the deck and breathe a deep sigh of relief. He looked up at the glowing sunset and thought of Angela for a moment. Then he thought of what a godsend Emily would be.

* * *

Emily started two weeks later, giving her enough time to get settled and acclimated before Mitchell left for his business trip. She moved in on a Saturday and Mitchell showed her through the living areas of the house downstairs and led her to the bedrooms upstairs. At the head of the stairway, the hall went in two directions, to the left to his master bedroom suite and to the right to the bathrooms, the kids' rooms and the guest room. 

"This is Kelly's room, the full bath, Timothy's room, and the spare bedroom I've made into an office for the kids' computer," Mitchell said, pointing them out as they went. "And this will be your room."

"This is really great!" Emily said with a big smile as she walked into her new room and looked around.

Other than his suite, it was the largest of the bedrooms in the house with its own private shower and a walk-in closet. They had kept it as a guest room, but with Kelly's help, Mitchell had done a quick makeover. Emily went quickly to the large window and looked out. From there, she had a nice view of the back yard, the deck and the swimming pool.

"You have a pool?" she squealed. "Oh, I love to swim!"

"You'll have plenty of chances before I close it down next month," Mitchell remarked. "In the nice weather, we practically live out there."

"I don't blame you. What a great yard!"

"Hope you like it," Mitchell said, pleased by her enthusiastic response.

He stood back as she looked through the room. It was furnished with an extra-large queen-sized bed, a wide dresser with a large mirror, a tall chest of drawers and a decent writing desk. Emily ran her hand over the light maple finish of the desk.

"There's a cable connection for television and computer," Mitchell added.

"All the conveniences of home!" Emily said. Her large blue-green eyes were sparkling. "Thank you so much for having me."

"Is this your first job?"

"My second," she said softly, her look seeming to indicate that there was a story behind her little confession, but one that they might talk about later. She looked up at him as if measuring his response.

"I really hope you like it here," Mitchell said. "We're glad-actually, I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks," Emily said with a grateful tone to her voice. Mitchell crossed his fingers and prayed that this would work out.

* * *

The changes in the household were dramatic and came almost overnight. On the first workday when Mitchell arrived home from work, the mouthwatering aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him. The house was straightened up, the kids' homework was finished, and Emily was busy stirring what smelled like a Hollandaise sauce for the fresh asparagus that was steaming in the pot.

"Wow!" was the most imaginative thing he could think of saying. He wanted to say more but his head was whirling from the settled scene before him. There was that little bit of chaos around the edges, a backpack tossed aside, a schoolbook sitting on the kitchen counter, but otherwise the house was in great shape. But he didn't have the two-hour hurricane of homework and household chores awaiting him. "This is great! Really great!"

Mitchell and his children and Emily quickly shifted into a comfortable routine. Emily was great to have around and blended in perfectly. She would get the kids up and fed and off to school before leaving for her own classes. She'd make sure they got home in the afternoon and helped them finish their homework before cooking dinner. In the evening she would attend to her own studies, often chatting with friends on the phone or online. Three or four times a week she would take off to work out at a local gym. She liked to go shopping with her friends on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. On most Friday or Saturday nights she went out with her friends. Sunday was her free day and she usually spent it visiting her family.

She fit in so well, Mitchell grew used to having her around. They were able to divide up the household tasks and there was nothing that he asked Emily to do that she didn't do willingly. Where once the kids would hassle each other over the most trivial thing, they seemed to be getting along better. Kelly didn't seem to be as sullen and moody, and Timothy seemed to be brightening up and coming out of his shell. Their schoolwork was improving and Mitchell knew that it wasn't because of what he wasn't able to do, but because of what Emily was doing for them. 

He loved watching her sit helping Timothy with his homework. She was so patient and helpful and understanding. Another time he saw Emily and Kelly sitting in the family room watching some MTV program, laughing and giggling like old friends. She fit in so well that he couldn't believe he had waited so long to get a nanny.

One evening, as he watched Emily take off in her cute little light blue VW bug convertible for her workout and later to meet up with some friends, he felt almost like it was watching his oldest daughter go out for the evening. Almost overnight, she had become a part of their family. Mitchell was so grateful that the cost of paying for her services didn't matter for he would gladly write out the checks.

* * *

Then there came a Friday evening when Mitchell was heading down the hall to Timothy's room and Emily's door was ajar. In passing by he caught a quick glimpse of her standing before the full-length mirror she had brought with her. She was dressed in only a tiny pair of pink bikini panties and was slipping into a light blue dress. He instantly felt his face grow warm and flushed and he quickly hustled down the hall to Timothy's room and threw himself into playing Bionicle's with his son. Mitchell felt unnerved by the quick little glimpse of Emily. He had become so used to her in the role of nanny that he hadn't realized what a sexy young woman she was. The doorbell rang a few minutes later and Mitchell headed down to answer it.

"That's probably for me," Emily called out from her room. "I'll bet that's my guy."

Mitchell remembered how earlier that evening, during dinner, she had mentioned something about her long-time boyfriend coming to town for the weekend. When Mitchell answered the door, a tall dark handsome guy stood there smiling.

"Mr. Gallagher? I'm Brian Morris," the young man said, extending his hand.


The Trouble With Emily Ch. 01



"Brian. Nice to meet you," Mitchell said as they shook hands. "You can call me Mitchell, or Mitch for short. Come on in!"

The kid was good looking no doubt, and dressed handsomely. He had dark eyes and dark hair and sported a trendy little moustache and goatee. Emily was quickly floating down the stairs to greet him.

"You look fabulous, darling," Brian said as he took Emily's hands in his. "I love you in that dress."

Emily was wearing the cute little light blue dress, casual enough for a night of dancing, dressy enough to wear any place, and sexy enough to turn the head of any red-blooded guy capable of maintaining a pulse. As the young couple stepped out the door and hurried out to Brian's car, Mitchell waved paternally. But for the rest of the evening his mind kept wandering back to the wonderfully brief glimpse he had enjoyed earlier of Emily's curvaceous backside as she dressed to go out. For just a few moments he let his mind wander back to the days of his youth when he was the young guy and Emily might have been his date. Then he laughed at himself for such a self-indulgent thought.

* * *

Then there came the night that he fell asleep on the couch in the family room watching the basketball game. The sound of a late night after hours program had stirred him awake but instead of jumping up and going up to bed he rolled onto his side for a moment. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs. Still mostly asleep and in a drowsy dreamy state of mind, his squinty eyes caught sight of Emily as she slipped down the stairs and padded into the kitchen, the sound of her bare feet kissing the tile floor. As Mitchell looked toward her, he could see her dressed in just a tank top and pajama pants. Perhaps it was just his drowsy eyes playing tricks on him, but her pajama pants were so thin and sheer that he could see the tiny purple g-string she had on underneath and the wiggle of her butt ensured that his eyes remained glued to her backside. 

Emily moved about the kitchen nearly noiselessly fixing a sandwich. Then as she turned down the lights and moved back toward the stairs, she glanced over at the couch and saw Mitchell. Setting her plate and drink down on the counter, she approached him. Mitchell played possum, closing his eyes and lying still. Emily grabbed the TV remote control and switched off the set, then turned and leaned over him to pull an afghan up over his sleeping form. He was quite aware of the heat of her presence as she hovered over him. He cracked his eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of her gorgeous breasts, swaying in front of him, straining at the thin material of her tank top. Afraid that he might get caught peeking, he snapped his eyes shut again. But as she slowly moved away, he looked up again to see the sway of her ass as she walked toward the stairs. Yes, he would remember this night, the first time that he noticed her, really noticed her as a woman, a very desirable woman. And the lingering scent of her perfume was the perfect exclamation point for his lurid little memory.

* * *

The Christmas and New Year's holidays came and went. Emily went home for a few days to stay with friends and family. She had been gone only a day before Mitchell realized how much he missed having her around. He missed their quick little chats in the morning and the aroma of her presence lingering in the upstairs hallway. He missed her cooking skills. He missed just knowing that she was around the house looking after his children. He missed her. Mitchell was a little chastened by his response to her absence. She has her own life to live, he kept telling himself. She has her own life! But all the time that she was gone, he wondered about her, how she was feeling, if she was having a good time, if she was smiling that great smile of hers, and if she missed them as much as he missed her.

When Emily returned, they began a new winter tradition. On his way home each Friday, Mitchell would rent a couple of movies, something that the kids would enjoy and something a little more mature. Mitchell would stoke up a roaring fire in the fireplace, cue up the first movie, start up the popcorn in the microwave, and they would all settle in to watch the movie, the whole group crowding onto the large leather couch.

Many times it didn't matter how lackluster the movie, Mitchell found it extremely satisfying to look around the family room and see Emily and his kids enjoying the first feature. Although Emily's taste ran toward horror and sci-fi movies and Mitchell's taste ran toward Indie films and offbeat, often foreign films, he was pleasantly surprised when Emily would eagerly watch whatever he had brought home for the second feature. As the chill days of winter rolled on, it became something of an obsession for Mitchell to make sure that there was a full stack of firewood ready to burn, plenty of popcorn, and a couple of good movies to watch each weekend.

* * *

Then there was a Wednesday evening in the middle of the winter. The weekend before, Mitchell had thoroughly cleaned out Timothy's room and rearranged the furniture, putting the bed against the wall opposite the door. With his teeth brushed and his pajamas on, Timothy crawled into bed and Mitchell sat beside him, reading to him as they had done ever since he was a child. They were partway into a chapter from the Complete Thomas The Tank Engine book when a flash of color caught Mitchell's eye and he glanced up. Through the wide open door of Timothy's room he could see the door to Emily's room. It was slightly ajar and afforded a clear view of the full-length mirror beside her dresser. That was nothing in and of itself, but what Mitchell could see in the mirror caused him to stop mid-sentence and gape for a moment. 

Emily had spent most of the evening in her room studying. But when Mitchell looked up he could see her standing by the dresser rummaging through a drawer. Then she suddenly crossed her arms in front of her, reached down for the hem of her red cashmere sweater and pulled it up and off over her head, revealing the sexy little white lace bra she was wearing underneath. The white lace was sheer, sheer enough to see the outline of her nipples. Mitchell was sure that his jaw dropped to his chest.

"Dad ... Dad," Timothy called out. "Read the story, Dad."

"Yeah, um, right ... the story," Mitchell mumbled as he fumbled with the book on his lap yet continued to watch Emily get undressed.

Apparently the gods of reflective science were in his favor. Timothy could see nothing and Emily was apparently completely unaware that Mitchell could see her, but the effect of her innocent little striptease was undeniable. Mitchell felt his cock throb unmercifully and grow instantly hard underneath his jeans. His eyes were glued to the mirror in her room. Emily then unfastened the snap of her low-rise jeans and pulled down the zipper. Mitchell watched as she tugged them down her long legs, then bent over to slip them off the rest of the way. As she stood back up and folded up her jeans, Mitchell could see that she was wearing a skimpy little matching white lace thong that showed off the trim and pert curves of her ass beautifully.

"Dad ... Dad ... the story?" Timothy insisted.

"Um, right. The story," Mitchell said and quickly glanced down to find his place in the book. He began to read haltingly to his son again but his eyes were magnetically drawn back up when he saw Emily reach behind her back and undo the clasp of her bra. She slowly slid the straps from her shoulders and then pulled the cups away from her breasts. They were simply spectacular! Firm and perfectly rounded, finer than any he had ever seen anywhere; they were a nice full size, not overly big, and topped with gorgeous, rosy pink nipples. Mitchell struggled to read the Thomas The Tank Engine story to Timothy but couldn't take his eyes away from this erotic glimpse of Emily undressing.

Mitchell really didn't want to stare. He certainly didn't think of himself as some sort of creepy peeping Tom or anything. But her door was open and he could see her and he was helpless to look away, especially when she hooked her thumbs inside the elastic of her thong and eased it down over the gentle flair of her hips. When she bent over to step out of the scant little scrap of white lace, he could see her breasts jiggle and sway gently, and the mound of her sex came into view between the tight cheeks of her ass. He had to bite his bottom lip when he saw that her pussy was clean-shaven. Oh, my fucking god, he thought. I've never seen a more beautiful sight! He had seen his share of sweet little pussies but never one so delightfully shaven. He knew that young girls did that nowadays, but to see one on such a beautiful girl, one whom he actually knew, was almost more than he was prepared to handle. Then Emily stood up again and drew her hands up over her body, a quick little glide over her pussy then up to her breasts giving a little tweak to her beautifully defined and erect nipples. She then moved out of his line of sight and the sound of the shower in her room started up. Her little show was over but the memory lingered on.

As Mitchell refocused his attention on completing his reading of the Thomas story to Timothy, his voice grew thick and tight and he had to clear his throat several times to continue. He was also very aware of the painful hard-on cramped up underneath his blue jeans. But Mitchell managed to finish the story to Timothy's fond appreciation. He kissed his son good night and indulged him in a long conversation about nothing in particular before heading back downstairs. 

Passing Emily's room he could hear the faint sound of her splashing in the shower singing to herself in her delightfully off-key voice. Now, having once caught a glimpse of her gorgeous body, Mitchell couldn't keep the image of her in the shower from forming in his mind, her hands soaping up her clear smooth skin, dwelling in his mind's eye at least on her breasts and ass and completely shaven pussy.

When he returned downstairs, Mitchell had to pour himself a glass of bourbon, easy on the ice, and sat down to read the book that he was currently working on. The letters on the page squirmed around when he tried to concentrate on reading because the image of Emily undressing kept replaying in his mind. It wasn't like she had been deliberately putting on a show for him, but the overall effect was greater than any striptease he could remember when out in the past with his buddies at a gentleman's club. Watching Emily peel the clothes off her beautiful, sexy body had sent his pulse racing and given him a full-fledged hard-on that would not go away. He tried to shake off the images racing through his head and concentrated on reading his book, but that was submarined just a few minutes later when Emily came downstairs to fix herself a little snack. He watched her move through the kitchen, fix a plate of fresh fruit and then bring it into the family room.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked as she sat on the couch and pulled her legs up beside her. She was wearing her usual evening attire, a little tank top and a pair of pajama pants, which left little to the imagination when Mitchell glanced over at her. He could see the fine curving outline of her breasts and the sharp tips of her nipples poking through her top and instantly flashed on the image of her naked body that he had spied earlier.

"Um, reading? Oh, yeah, this. Um, Audacious Courage, about the Lewis and Clark expedition," he replied, his voice still thick and uncertain.

"Not my kind of thing," she giggled. "You know me. I love creepy scary stuff."

"I know. Witches and vampires and all that," he managed to reply.

Emily looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked with a tone of concern.

"Me? I'm feeling fine." He shrugged.

"You just look a little flushed, like you're running a fever or something," she remarked.

"I'm ... I'm okay. Just fine," he said, putting his hand on his forehead for a moment. "See, no fever." 

But he knew what was wrong. He had been spying on this beautiful innocent girl while she undressed, however unintentionally it had been on either part, and he was thoroughly embarrassed. Yet her breezy, sexy little grin, and the firm jiggle of her breasts when she laughed was tantalizing him and he was struggling within himself. What he had done was wrong on some level, but at the same time he had been incredibly turned on by it all.

"Just so you're okay," Emily replied. "You're always so busy and never take time to look after yourself. Someone's got to do it."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"So can I ask you something, Mitch?" she asked, sounding a little tentative.

It was the first time she had called him anything but Mr. Gallagher. It caught him by surprise but he felt good because she was comfortable enough to be so familiar. Mitchell nodded.

"Sure. Ask me anything," he replied.

"How am I doing here?" Emily asked. "I know after six months there's a review thing with the agency. Before we go through all that, I was just sorta wondering where I stood with you is all."

"Well, I think you're great," Mitchell began. "You're terrific with the kids. You're helpful and friendly with everyone. The kids seem to adore you."

Emily seemed pleased and smiled softly.

"Good. I hope so. I just love kids and babies."

"Well, I'm sure you'll make a wonderful mother some day," Mitchell added. "When you're ready to settle down and have them."

"I hope so," she said, her face growing a bit sad. "I really want to have a baby, but might not be able to."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"What can you do? My gyno says it'll take a minor miracle for me to conceive and carry a baby. Guess that's why I chose this sort of career. I can be a surrogate mother."

"You'll make a great mother, Emily," Mitchell said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

Emily finished her snack and stretched out over the cushions on the couch. Despite his best attempts at burying his face in his book, Mitchell couldn't help but glance over at her as she then picked up and paged through a magazine. God, she was beautiful, so fresh from the shower, her complexion creamy smooth and her chestnut red hair still a bit damp. He had picked Emily over the overtly sexy girls because she seemed so innocent and safe. But now that he had seen her naked, his male nature had been awakened and become aroused. Finally he couldn't take it any more and shut his book.

"I'm heading up to bed now," he said, getting up from his easy chair. "Have a good sleep."

"Thanks. I will," she replied with a smile. 

Her gaze glided down from his face over his body so he held his book over his crotch as he passed by. He felt the warmth of her eyes on him. She couldn't be checking me out, he thought. For Christ sakes, I'm more than twenty years older than her. It must be just my fertile and overactive imagination playing tricks on me. But as he stripped down and climbed into bed naked, his hard-on was begging for a very real release. As he touched himself he thought of her hands touching him. He thought of her naked body bending over him, her hands stroking him, her warm breath brushing over his most sensitive parts, her breasts swaying down to brush against his thighs, and he instantly exploded, milking his urgent illicit desires until he fell exhausted against the sheets, trembling as the built-up tension flowed from his body.

* * *

Then came that first warm day of the summer-spring actually-and it was hot, not just warm. At the insistence of the kids, Mitchell had opened the pool a week or two earlier than he had originally intended but it was worth the effort as they enjoyed a nice long swim during the long hot afternoon. Later in the day, Timothy had gone inside to play with his GameCube, Kelly was online making plans for the evening, and Mitchell was laying out to get a head start on his summer suntan. He was sitting on a lounge chair swabbing some sunblock on his arms and legs when he looked up to see Emily coming outside.

She was wearing a skimpy purple string bikini that did little to conceal the lush curves of her body. With her red hair tied firmly up behind her head, she tossed a towel down onto the lounge beside him and watched for a moment as he finished his legs.

"Want me to do your back for you?" Emily asked.

"Um, well, sure ... if you want," he replied, surprised at her offer, although it did make perfect sense. But logic had nothing to do with the warm blush that flooded his cheeks.

She took the tube of sunblock from him and sat behind him on his lounge chair. Her hands were soft and warm and she took her time massaging the lotion into his backside, working it all around, from his shoulders all the way down to the waistband of his bathing suit.

"You have a nice back, lean and strong," she remarked. "But very tense. You need to relax." He then felt her hands ply his shoulder muscles harder. "Come on, relax, Mitchell."

It sounded like she was giggling. He glanced over his shoulder at her and saw a look of decided concentration on her face. Mitchell breathed deeply and tired to find a soft warm comfortable place for his thoughts.

"I'll be relaxed in no time once I start to warm up," Mitchell said. Emily finished with a final firm massage that worked all the way down the middle of his back. Mitchell turned back toward her. "Gee, I think you might have a future as a masseuse. That was great."

"Think so?" Emily chuckled as she got up from his lounge and moved over onto hers. "I like massages, giving and receiving."

"I'll have to remember that," Mitchell replied, watching with interest as she lowered the back of the lounge and spread out her towel. As she settled down onto the cushion, she uncapped her own sunblock and sprayed some onto her chest and shoulders. There was something so ... so erotic about watching the way Emily moved her hands over her smooth creamy skin that Mitchell had to look away, especially as she spread the spray around her breasts. The sight of her nipples growing erect beneath the thin fabric of her suit sent a twinge straight down to his loins.

He lay beside her, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun penetrate his body and relax and loosen every muscle and fiber. Fifteen or twenty minutes later he went for a swim. When he returned to his lounge, Emily had turned over onto her tummy. While Mitchell toweled himself off, he took in the long sweeping curves of her legs and butt and back. In the heat, the tiny triangle of her purple suit bottom clung to her firm and spectacular buns. With her legs slightly parted he could see the cleft of her sex press against the thin purple fabric.

"Can you do me?" Emily asked, startling Mitchell from his trance-like stare.

"Huh?"

"Do me up? My back?" she asked, waving the bottle of spray in his direction.

"Oh, yeah ... right," he mumbled and then sat obediently beside her on the lounge, trying not to rest too close to her. When he shook the bottle, Emily reached behind her and tugged at the tie of her top, pulling it free and tucking the strings underneath her. Mitchell tentatively sprayed the mist over her backside.

"Rub it in real good, okay?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied.

"Hey, I'm too old to be called ma'am!" she protested playfully.

"Yes, ma'am ... er, miss," Mitchell returned.

"That's better," she giggled. "I think."

Other than a polite handshake or a friendly hug, this was the first time he had ever touched her. He hoped that his nervousness wasn't conveyed in his light touch on her skin, which was creamy smooth and soft and inviting. He started at her shoulders and worked his way slowly down her shapely back. Mitchell couldn't believe how soft and smooth and supple her back felt to him.




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 01



"Mmm, that feels great!" Emily hummed. "You have very nice hands."

"Thank you," Mitchell replied and worked his hands lower, down to the small of her back, kneading the long lean muscles beneath his trembling hands. 

"Don't be afraid to be firm, you know, hard or rough ... I like it rough sometimes."

"Hmm," Mitchell hummed, pondering the implications of her statement as he applied a firmer pressure.

"That's better," Emily commented as he pressed his palms firmly into the flesh of her back. She almost seemed to be arching her spine and pressing her lovely, supple skin into his hands. 

When he neared the flare of her hips and her suit bottom, he felt another twinge shudder through him. If left on his own, he could easily go on massaging her sumptuous nearly naked body. The act itself was entirely innocent, but his feelings of arousal were quite the opposite, so he quickly finished up and wiped his hands together.

"Can you do me just a little lower?" Emily asked. "Don't want my cheeks to burn do you?"

Mitchell looked down at her gorgeous ass, firm high rounded cheeks that were all tight muscle and appetizing curves. He carefully sprayed the lower exposed part of each cheek. When he touched her, Emily spread her legs just a bit farther apart, completely relaxed and at ease with his hands touching her in such an intimate spot. Mitchell couldn't believe how firm her ass was, perfectly rounded and tight as a leather sports car seat. He hoped that she couldn't feel his hands trembling as he massaged the sun block into her flesh.

"How's that?" he asked once he had finished.

"That was great! Thanks!" she said, resting her head on her arm and looking up at him as he lay back on his lounge.

"You'd better lacquer up," she commented. "You're already getting a little rosy."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he admitted, reapplying some sunscreen to his chest and shoulders before laying back down.

When Emily rolled over, she carefully held her suit top so that the little triangles of purple cloth remained strategically positioned. But as she lay back it made little difference as her suit clung to her warm damp skin as if it were just a thin layer of purple paint sprayed over her breasts. Mitchell could see every detail that he dared to look upon, the sumptuous curving shape of her breasts, the puckered circular outline of her aureoles, and the pert imprint of her nipples. Mitchell sighed and looked away. The chlorine floaters in the pool had positioned themselves next to the skimmer drain and he welcomed the opportunity to get up and tend to his maintenance duties. But a simple glance back at Emily froze him where he squatted. She was absolutely beautiful and he couldn't help looking upon her with open hungry eyes.

There were times when he had strolled through the downtown Art Institute and looked upon the amazing master paintings that were carefully hung. But no thing of beauty that he had been used to could compare to the sight before him now. As a teenager, Mitchell had become a card-carrying member of the American Society of Girl Watchers. All of the myriad forms of the female beautiful fascinated him endlessly, and he remembered each and every one. Even when meeting and falling in love with and marrying Angela, he had felt blessed to know beauty at such a high level. But glancing over at Emily, in all her gorgeous innocence, Mitchell couldn't help but feel something more, something deep, and something intense that he wasn't sure of how to put into words.

He returned to his lounge and lay down on his back, eyes closed, sinking deep into the cushion. But flickering glimpses he had enjoyed of her sexy young body kept running through his mind and he could feel arousal spread down between his legs. It wasn't long afterwards that she sat up, tied up her suit, and then got up and sauntered over to the pool. Mitchell looked up and watched her slowly take the steps down into the pool until she finally took the plunge. She swam a lap back and forth and surfaced near where he was still ensconced on the lounge.

"Wanna join me?" she asked cheerfully. "Not supposed to swim without a buddy, you know."

"You don't need a buddy when you have a lifeguard on duty," Mitchell shot back with a grin.

"Think so?" she said, paddling back from the edge of the pool. "But what if, say, a poor girl is to wander near the deep end and get fatigued and start to go under?"

"Then it would be the job of the lifeguard to dive in and save her," he replied. Mitchell watched with amusement as she drifted back into the center of the pool and began to bob up and down.

"Oh, my," she called out. "I think I have a cramp in my leg. I don't think I can keep up much longer."

Mitchell laughed out loud, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's not funny. I really do have a cramp," Emily replied, a tinge of pain in her voice.

"For real?"

"Yeah! For real!"

She did seem to be struggling in the water, splashing frantically around as she tried to reach down as if trying to rub her leg.

"You okay?" Mitchell asked, sitting up and taking a closer look at her struggle in the pool.

"I ... I ... I think I need a lifeguard," she called out.

"Well, where is that son-of-a-bitch?" Mitchell said teasingly, looking mockingly around the yard.

"Help! Help!" Emily cried out, her splashing becoming more frantic.

If this was a game, Emily was sure playing her part convincingly. Mitchell pushed himself up from the lounge and went to the edge of the pool.

"Help! Save me! Someone! Anyone!" Emily cried out.

With a shrug, Mitchell dove in and quickly swam over to where Emily was treading water. He swept through the water and hooked his arm around her and pulled her toward the shallow end. Emily seemed to fall limp into his grasp. When he stood up he pulled her into his arms.

"You okay?" he asked.

"My hero! You saved me!" she said and leaned toward him to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, hero person, for being so brave!"

Somehow she managed to say that with a straight face. Then Mitchell felt her body press against him and realized that it was bare flesh. He looked down and saw that his little "rescue" attempt had dislodged her top and her breasts were bared and rubbing against his chest. She looked down too.

"Oh, my!" she squealed. "What kind of lifeguard are you? Taking advantage of a poor drowning girl!"

"Um ... I ... um, sorry," Mitchell mumbled entirely pathetic and abjectly apologetic.

Emily took her time adjusting her top to cover up her breasts with the scant triangles of purple fabric. Not that it really mattered since they were plastered against her breasts like a thin coat of paint.

"Well, I never!" she said and backed a step away, still partially submerged.

Mitchell looked her in the eyes, her blue-green eyes twinkling in the bright afternoon sunshine. Then she began to grin and then laugh out loud.

"Why, you little-" he said and reached for her. Grabbing her arm he pulled her toward him. "I thought I told you no horseplay in the pool, young lady. If you insist on fooling around, then I'll have to remove you bodily from the pool."

"Then just go ahead and try," she said defiantly, standing tall and proud, jutting her chest out defiantly with both hands on her hips. When Emily continued to resist playfully, Mitchell reached down and lifted her up into his arms. He carried her through the water and up the steps. He had just reached the pool deck when Kelly came out of the door.

"Father! Just what do you think you're doing?" Kelly asked upon seeing her father carrying her nanny up the pool steps.

"Nothing, honey," Mitchell said entirely abashed. "Just ... um, saving this poor girl's life. She was drowning ... in the pool ... drowning ..."

Mitchell set Emily down on the deck abruptly.

"Uh-huh, right, Dad," Kelly said with a knowing, mature eye that he wasn't used to seeing. Then his daughter shifted gears immediately. "Becky and Eileen and a bunch of others are going over to Samantha's house tonight. Can I go?"

"Uh, sure, sweetie, Just don't be late, all right?"

"Sure, Daddy. Thanks!"

When Kelly stepped back inside, the day returned back closer to normal. Emily and Mitchell retired to their lounges, touched up their sun block, and dried off under the warm afternoon sunshine. Eventually Timothy appeared complaining of being hungry and Emily started to get up.

"Not this time, Emily," Mitchell said to her practically thumping his chest. "Stay put. Relax and enjoy the afternoon. This dinner is on the master chef."

Mitchell went off and put together a great picnic dinner that Emily, Mitchell, and Timothy enjoyed as they gathered on the deck around the picnic table. Although they sat at opposite ends of the table, there seemed to be some sort of unspoken energy passing between Emily and Mitchell, manifested in little passing glances and grins and nods of the head. Was it possible after all these months that he had finally come alive and was awake and emerging from the fog that had been suffocating him? No doubt that Emily had something to do with it, for she had certainly stirred up something deep inside him. I'm not dead inside, he thought. Maybe there's hope for me after all. Maybe the time is right for me to open up again. Mitchell hoped that this feeling was real; he really truly and honestly hoped so. 

* * *

The following day, a Sunday, Emily was getting ready to go out shopping with one of her friends when her phone went off. Just as Mitchell had finished his weekly bookkeeping stint and was walking to the kitchen to refreshen his coffee cup, Emily was trudging down the stairs. She was wearing the most terrible frown.

"What's the matter?" Mitchell asked as she moved past him and into the family room.

"Nicole and Lizzie can't make it to the mall today," she said with disappointment.

"Aw, that's too bad. I thought that was mandatory," Mitchell remarked.

"Yeah, it is." Emily flumped on the couch next to Kelly. "There was this really big sale on at Marshall Field's and I was really hoping to find a nice summer dress."

"I could go with you," Kelly said hesitantly.

"Really?" Emily said, her face brightening immediately. "You sure it's okay with your dad?" she asked.

"It's okay with me," Mitchell replied. "In fact I think it would be a great idea." He fished into his wallet and pulled out a little cash as Kelly jumped up from the couch, growing nearly as excited as Emily.

"I just need to change," Kelly said, breezing by Mitchell, grabbing the money from his hand and running upstairs.

She was ready to go in a few minutes, an unusual thing given that Kelly was always the last one ready to leave on almost every occasion. Mitchell watched with amusement as they left in Emily's little blue Beetle convertible. My little girl was growing up and going off to play with the big girls, a thought that left him a touch sad but glad that Timothy was still a little kid.

Left to their own devices, Mitchell and Timothy had a fun leisurely day. They went to the movies, they took a long bike ride, they played an impromptu game of baseball on the front lawn, and they went for a swim. It wasn't until late afternoon when Kelly and Emily returned, full of shopping bags and chattering conversation.

"I didn't give you that much money, did I?" Mitchell remarked when he saw what Kelly was carrying into the house.

"Oh, I didn't spend it all," Kelly said proudly. "Emmie helped me find some really great bargains."

Emily gave him an innocent expression.

"It's like tutoring a protégé," Emily remarked. "And best of all she's a quick learner."

Mitchell was amused by the brief fashion show as Kelly and Emily showed off what they had purchased. Although he was concerned with the grown-up look of what Kelly had bought, his thoughts weren't concerned with the expense in the slightest. More than anything he was pleased to see them getting along so well. After dinner, Kelly approached her father, wearing a new top and shorts that showed off her maturing figure.

"Thanks for letting me go out with Emily. I had the best time."

"Good. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Are you going to keep her as our nanny?"

"Of course, sweetie," Mitchell replied. "For the next couple of years if she wants to stay. Why?"

"Just making sure. I figured with Timothy growing up and me graduating next year that you might not need her anymore."

"You've got your senior year of high school coming up. I'm not planning on spoiling it for you by having to baby-sit your little brother all the time."

"Good. I hope you keep her around. She is so cool, sort of like the big sister I never had."

There was a splash out by the pool and Mitchell looked out to see Emily swimming the backstroke. The sight brought a grin to his face.

"So do you like her, Daddy?" Kelly asked him, apparently picking up on his glance.

"Well, yeah. Of course. She's been great with you two."

"I mean kind of like, you know, boy-girl like," Kelly said.

"You mean like boyfriend-girlfriend sort of thing?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Of course not. She's your nanny."

"But she is real pretty."

"I've noticed."

"And you two seem to have this flirtation thing going."

"I don't think so, honey," Mitchell said turning away from his view of the pool and looking at Kelly "What makes you think that?"

"I'm not blind, Daddy," Kelly replied.

"If you mean what happened yesterday, we were just playing around. Nothing more than some harmless poolside fun."

Kelly didn't look convinced. 

"Why? Did she say something to you?" Mitchell asked.

"No, not really. She was just asking me a little about you, and I kind of got the feeling that she likes you."

"Well I like her too ... but as a person, okay? Nothing more."

"Okay, Daddy. Whatever you say," Kelly said and then wandered off. 

A few minutes later, Kelly left to hang out with some friends for the evening and Mitchell looked out at the pool, only to see Emily climb up the stairs and scamper over to get her towel. He enjoyed having her around. He was grateful for all her help with the kids. And sure there was that male part of him that enjoyed watching her, towel off her tall sumptuous curves after a brisk swim. But he knew there was a line that couldn't be crossed and he had every intention of remaining on his side.

To be continued ... 



The Trouble With Emily Ch. 02



Author's Note: This is the second and longest part of a four-part story. Although there is some sexual activity in this story, if you are looking for a quickie "stroke and cum" story you might want to select something else to read. For those who enjoy plot and character development and a long build-up to a rousing conclusion, please feel free to follow along this special tale.

*

A week later, Emily asked if she could invite a couple of her best friends over to go swimming for the afternoon. Mitchell had never met any of her friends and thought that it would be an interesting encounter.

"Of course, your friends are welcome to come over," Mitchell said. "I don't spend all my spare time keeping this damned pool clean just to sit around and look at how clear and sparkling it is. I'd much rather see it being used."

"Oh, great! Thank you!" Emily said with an excited little squeal and gave him a little hug. "You'll just love my friends. They're the best!"

Her friends arrived just before noon on what turned out to be a gorgeous early summer Saturday. It was a perfect pool day without a single cloud in the sky and the temperature hovering in the low 80s with very little humidity.

"Mitch, this is my friend Lizzie and this is Katie!" she said excitedly.

"Hello, girls! Hope you a have great time!" Mitchell replied.

Lizzie was a skinny little sprightly blonde girl about five-two or five-three with big, blue eyes and an infectiously happy smile. Katie was taller, though not quite as tall as Emily, with beautiful long dark hair and a pair of sultry dark eyes. She seemed a little more reserved than Lizzie, but in a quiet and elegant way. From what he could see beneath the girls' short little cover-ups, the faint outlines of their skimpy bikinis were visible and both were sporting beautiful suntans that must have been helped along by a tanning salon given that it was still early in the summer.

"Hi, Mitch!" Lizzie said, obviously the more outgoing of the two friends.

"Hello," Katie said giving him a long thorough look.

Mitchell waved them into the house and went about his business. Once he had the pool open and cleaned on Saturday mornings, he liked to sit down and go through the household's finances. Although he could hear what the girls were saying while he sat at the dining room table, it sounded like the girls were just having fun and it wasn't long before he heard the sounds of them jumping into the pool. He smiled at the thought and then concentrated on what needed to be done.

An hour or so later, when things had quieted down outside, Mitchell was ready to take advantage of the gorgeous early summer day and went upstairs to put on his swim trunks. Out of curiosity, he glanced out the window of his bedroom that looked out onto the pool area and caught a glimpse of the girls stretched out on a set of lounges they had arranged together, careful to have their feet pointed toward the sun.

Lizzie had on something very skimpy in yellow and orange, Katie was wearing a tiny little hot pink suit while Emily was in a skimpy little black suit with pink strings. They were all lying on their backs, their bodies greased with sunscreen and glistening in the brilliant sunlight. They all looked so sexy with nearly every outline of their youthful curves apparent through the damp thin fabric of their swimsuits. 

As Mitchell stripped down and stepped into his own trunks, he became quite aware of the effect of seeing this trio of backyard bathing beauties when he had to stuff what had become a nearly full-fledged hard-on into his trunks. "Jesus!" he said to himself. "Just call me a dirty old man!" he laughed. At least this proves I'm not dead yet, he thought. 

While stepping out onto the deck, he decided to give them a little privacy and set himself up on the far side of the pool. He liked to stretch out and sun himself for a while before diving in the pool, so he arranged his lounge chair and reclined with his eyes closed, delighting in the wonderful warmth of the sun. It didn't take long before he heard Emily's voice calling over to him.

"Hey! Mitch! What're you doing way over there?" she called out. "Being anti-social or something?"

He picked his head up and looked over toward the girls. "Didn't want to disturb you, girls."

"That's okay. You won't disturb us," Lizzie chipped in.

"Nah, you guys are probably talking about clothes and boys and that infernal young people's music."

"We could talk about something else if you'd prefer," Emily shouted over. "You know, like social security, and the rising cost of denture cream, and Lawrence Welk music."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Mitchell shot back defensively. "I may be older than you, but I'm not some old stuffed shirt."

"Then why not come over here and join us?" Emily asked.

"You sure about that?" he asked. "No jokes about hearing aids and heart medication and walkers?"

"Not a word," she answered.

"We promise," Lizzie said. "Cross our hearts!" With that the little blonde drew an X across her chest, her finger flirting with the dinky triangle of yellow and orange fabric that made up the top of her suit.

What was it about her gesture, innocent in and of itself, that sent a twinge of arousal through Mitchell's body? Was it that he could see, even from the far side of the pool, every one of their lush curves, and from the way that their suits clung to their bodies so enticingly that he could distinguish the pert erection of their nipples and the cleft of their pussies through the thin material? Or was it just that with his recently threadbare love life he was just that easy to excite? I guess this does look pretty stupid, he thought. What's it going to hurt to join the girls?

Mitchell got up from the lounge and picked up his towel and walked over to where the girls were laying out. He scooted another lounge over close to Emily, but not too close. Before he settled down, he thought he'd play the part of a good host.

"Anybody want something to drink?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Lizzie said.

"Oh, you guys!" Emily said. "Mitch makes the best pina coladas! They are absolutely to die for!"

"Now you're talking!" Lizzie said with a cute little laugh.

Mitchell graciously excused himself and went inside to mix up a tall pitcher of drinks. While he was inside gathering together all the ingredients, he couldn't see the girls but could clearly hear them talking outside, their voices carrying through the open kitchen window.

"So what do you guys think?" Emily asked.

"I think he's kind of cute in a sweet polite older guy way," said Lizzie.

"I think he's kind of sexy too," Katie remarked. "I like 'em tall and fair like that. And with a sexy muscular chest. Yum!"

"And did you see the way he looked at you?" Lizzie added. Mitchell couldn't tell to whom she had directed her remark, but he could easily guess. He hadn't thought that he was looking at any one of them in any special way, much less singling out Emily.

"What do you mean?" asked Emily.

"Oh, come on, Emmie!" Lizzie replied. "You saw it too, didn't you Kat? He looks at you with those big dreamy eyes, like you're an ice cream cone and he wants to lick you all over."

"Get out! He's my boss-my employer! He wouldn't think-"

"He's a man, honey!" Katie responded. "You're a hot young chick. You've got to know what he's thinking."

"Not Mitchell. He's too ... too ... too, I don't know what."

"Too much like your dad?" Lizzie teased with a real edge to her voice. "I know you've always had a thing for older guys and you have to admit that he would be a great conquest, with all that built-up sexual tension from being single for so long. Mmm, I'd fuck him and love every minute of it."

"So would I," Katie chimed in. "In a New York minute."

"You guys!" Emily said. "That's gross!"

"Say what you will ..." Lizzie said.

"It's time to roll over, girls," Katie remarked, changing the topic, and the girls fell silent.

Mitchell had finished mixing the pina coladas and carried the pitcher and glasses out on a tray. He paused when stepping down from the deck. The girls had indeed rolled over and now the strings of their tops were untied and lay at their sides, exposing their entire bare backs. The back of Lizzie's suit bottom had practically disappeared in the crack of her ass, and Katie's was a thong to begin with. The sight of the three sexy young women was working on Mitchell's brain and body, making his semi-hard-on throb even more.

"Ahem. Who's thirsty?" he asked, clearing his throat as he carried the tray over toward them and set it on a little table between Lizzie and Emily. 

Mitchell arranged the glasses with straws and poured a round, and then passed them to the girls. As he handed the glass to Katie, she had to reach over Lizzie, and her suit top fell away from her body and Mitchell was treated to a fine glimpse of her large full breasts and dark taut nipples. Although this sent a definite twinge to his cock, the girls didn't seem to notice and sipped the chill blended mix of light rum, coconut milk and fresh pineapples.

"Mmm, this is goo-ood!" Katie remarked.

"You better get ready to mix another pitcher cause we're gonna drink this one down right away!" added Lizzie.

Mitchell chuckled, took his glass and returned to his lounge beside Emily. They all lay in silence for a few moments, sipping and sunning. Finally one of the girls made a comment about a mutual friend and the girls began to talk amongst themselves. Mitchell lie back on his lounge and let the sun's warmth flow through him while he listened to their chatter. Just like listening to my teen-aged daughter and her friends talk, he thought, the notion of which caught him short for a moment. Although every topic was somehow related, they could go from talking about a friend, to a favorite TV show, to a new CD, to a kicky new outfit at the mall, to what they were going to do that night, all in about a minute or two. Mitchell shook his head with amazement at how all three seemed to be talking at once and yet they all understood what was being said and were instantly responding.

"We're not boring you or anything are we?" Emily asked several minutes later, looking over at him. "We can always talk about retirement plans or something."

"I'm good," Mitchell remarked, taking another sip of his pina colada. "Don't worry about me."

"Okay," she replied with a touch of skepticism, and then joined back into the conversational fray with her friends.

It took about twenty minutes before Mitchell felt his body heat up and begin to sweat. He rolled over to get some sun on his back before he would be ready to jump into the pool for a swim. As he lay there, his head turned toward Emily; he watched as she rose up onto her elbows and said something to Katie. The generous firm curves of her breasts lifted up to the point where Mitchell could see the very edge of her pink nipples. That glimpse of firmly rounded, creamy smooth skin sent another twinge deep to his loins. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe I have gone too long without a woman, he thought. Just an innocent flash of skin was making his mind churn and his libido throb. The heat of the sun and his emotions was getting too much.

Rising up suddenly from his lounge, Mitchell took a few quick steps to the pool and dove in. He savored the cooling sensation of the water. Even though it was pretty warm, it felt absolutely refreshing. He remained under water for nearly the entire length of the pool, coming to the surface only as he neared the far side. With a turn and a hard kick he swam briskly back. After another pair of brisk laps, Mitchell paused, folded his arms on the edge of the pool, and caught his breath. The fresh water and the exercise had taken the bite out of his arousal.

Then Katie had to roll over and sit up on her lounge. As she rearranged her top, Mitchell was treated to another view of her big beautiful tits in all their awesome glory. She knotted the string and shifted the skimpy hot pink triangles of cloth so that her large dark nipples were covered, about all that the suit was capable of concealing. Then she rose up and walked slowly toward the pool, coming to stand in front of Mitchell and looking down at him.

"How's the water?" she asked.

"Outstanding," he replied looking up at her. His eyes ran up her darkly tanned legs and over the skimpy patch of pink fabric that barely covered her pussy. In fact he could see the folds of her sex outlined perfectly. When he glanced further up, he could see the cups of her top straining to contain the full mounds of her breasts. Now even the relative cool water of the pool couldn't dampen his arousal and Mitchell was glad to be submerged so that she couldn't see the hard-on now raging again in his swim trunks.

Mitchell watched as she strolled over to the steps and began to descend the steps slowly. He sighed at the sight of her descending lusciously into the water. Then he looked back to see that Emily and Lizzie were also up and making ready for a swim. While they slowly made their way into the water, Mitchell took the opportunity to get in a few more laps, carefully dodging the girls as they jumped in and romped in the water, trying to splash and dunk each other. He caught his breath and relaxed against the side of the pool taking in the scene. Sort of like watching a pillow fight in a cheesy T&A movie, he thought. But I like it-I really like it! 

He liked it, but just a little too much. Refreshed from his swim, Mitchell dove back toward the steps and climbed out to grab his towel. As he stood drying off, he realized that the girls, Katie in particular, were checking him out. He didn't pay them any mind until he realized that his baggy trunks were sticking to his hips and thighs and the long thick semi-hard cock dangling between his legs was perfectly revealed. Without trying to make a big deal, he slowly turned away from them and walked toward the patio door and went inside. He was sure that he could hear them giggling over that one.

Mitchell decided to remain inside while the girls played in the pool. After locating the book he was currently reading, he was about to go sit on the front porch when Lizzie carried in the empty pitcher. She had obviously toweled off her hair and had wrapped her towel around her waist. It rode quite low on her hips.

"Can you mix up another one of these?" she asked in a sweet and sexy voice, holding the pitcher up.

"Sure," he answered. He thought Lizzie might rejoin her friends right away, but she lingered in the kitchen obviously waiting for him. The cooler air inside the house combined with her wet suit top to erect her nipples to sharp points beneath the orange-yellow fabric.

Mitchell bit his lower lips before taking the pitcher to the liquor cabinet and began assembling and pouring the ingredients. "Pay attention, now. Master Mixer at work!"

Lizzie giggled and watched closely. "Wow! You really know what you're doing," she said, sidling over beside him. Mitchell became very aware of her nearness with the warmth of her sexy little body radiating outward. "So you like having Emily around?"

"Oh, absolutely. She's been great with the kids. They just love her to pieces. She's taken such a big load off me. It was the best thing that I've done since ... since Angela passed."

"That was your wife?"

Mitchell nodded as he added the rum to the blender.

"She died, right?"

Mitchell nodded again.

"That's sad. Must have been hard to find someone to take her place."

"For almost a year I tried to do everything myself, but I just couldn't keep up," he admitted, adding the fresh pineapple chunks to the mix.

"So Emily just sort of stepped into her place?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just that I've seen the way you look at her. Sure, you've been checking Katie and me out, and we are like really cool with that and all, but I've seen the way you look at Emily. She's a hot young chick and you're a single guy. Something's bound to happen."

"I really doubt that," Mitchell chuckled. He pressed the button to start the blender and turned to face Lizzie fully. "Emily is sweet and sexy and way too young for me. Besides she already has a boyfriend."

"You mean Brian? I guess so. They've been going out since like forever. But he's been going away to college and hardly ever around. I think Emily gets a little bored waiting around for him."

"What are you getting at?"

"Emily is like my best friend-my best, best friend. Just be careful if you decide to play around with her. I don't want her to get hurt cause then I would have to come after you, and that would not be a pretty sight."

"Then consider me forewarned," Mitchell said with a grin. 

He was impressed with the protective stance Lizzie took with him. The pina colada mix was finished blending and Mitchell poured it into the pitcher. When Lizzie went to pick up the tray and carry it back outside, Mitchell rested his hand on hers to hold her back for a moment. 

"Look, Lizzie," he said earnestly. "I really like Emily. She is a great girl. It's been a terrific pleasure having her around helping with my kids. But that's all there is to it. I'll admit that she is a pretty sexy girl too and there are times when I look at her and get ideas-I am a guy after all. But there are so many reasons for me not to get involved with her that I don't even give it a second thought."

"Uh-huh. Sure," Lizzie said with a sly little grin. "Tell me that one in a year and maybe I'll believe ya."

Mitchell lifted his hand and Lizzie padded over to the patio door, her tight little buns wiggling deliciously underneath her towel. Had he really been looking at Emily with more on his mind than being a benevolent employer? And if her friends had picked up on it, then she might too and he would have to exercise a little more self-control around her and her friends. 

He decided to go upstairs to rinse off under the shower and heard the sound of the girls giggling about something. When he glanced out the window to see what was going on, he was presented with an instantly arousing view of Katie stripping off the top of her suit and reclining on the lounge on her back, her glorious large breasts fully revealed in the late afternoon sun. Was it a mix of the heat and the strong drink that was loosening their inhibitions? Lizzie joined her in pulling off her top and reclined on her lounge with her pert little breasts pointing upward delightfully. Emily was standing beside her lounge fiddling with her suit. It sounded like she wasn't sure about going topless.

"But what if one of the kids sees me?" she asked.

"Oh, come on, Emmie!" Lizzie laughed. "Don't be going prude on us all of a sudden! Remember that spring trip to Cancun?"

"That was different," Emily replied. "That was a vacation and I just so happen to work here."

"Chicken!" Katie called out, moving slightly to settle back onto the padding of her lounge, a move that sent a wonderful jiggle to her breasts.

"Ohhh," Emily grumbled, and then pulled at the string behind her back and pulled her skimpy little top off and joined her friends.

The sight of the three beautiful young women sun tanning topless was almost too much for Mitchell, yet he couldn't take his eyes away. They were all so different yet all so gorgeous lying there wearing just their dinky little bikini bottoms that hardly hid anything from view. Lizzie was short and skinny with small but pert tits and a golden honey-hued tan. Katie was taller and curvy with big beautiful boobs and a dark all-over tan. But it was Emily that his admiring gaze lingered over. She was tall and slender in an athletic way with a perfectly rounded pair of breasts and a rosy tan. There was a beauty to her proportions, from her long shapely legs to the flair of her hips, her trim waist to her full luscious breasts that made Mitchell hum with appreciation.




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 02



"Man, oh, man!" he mumbled to himself. "That is what my kind of heaven looks like!" Then he turned away, turned on the shower, and stepped out of his swim trunks. Mitchell chuckled when he looked at his naked body in the bathroom mirror. For his late forties he was in pretty decent shape. He had an interesting face, not pretty-boy handsome, but certainly not a troll. Tall and broad shouldered, trim through the hips, with a nicely muscular chest and abs that didn't exactly ripple but came close. He was okay with his looks, but it was the long hard cock between his legs that made him chuckle. Checking out Emily and her sexy friends had definitely stiffened him up and he felt his erect manhood throb when the image of the topless lovelies came to mind again.

It reminded him that had been a long time since he had sex, real sex with a woman. For a long time, going back to when Angela was undergoing chemo and later in the hospital, he had pretty much lost his interest in all things sexual. Some things are just more important. But in the last few months that lack of interest had slowly begun to fade. Was it coincidence that it began about the time that he noticed how pretty and sexy Emily was. He had started noticing women more frequently and each day would see an attractive woman somewhere. There was the cute girl at the local Lackluster video store, the sweet little hostess at a nearby Mexican restaurant, and a couple of very sexy moms that he would see around Timothy's school. 

Mitchell had tried to open himself up to the idea of meeting someone and dating, but the opportunity just never seemed right. Besides, until Emily had arrived last fall, he was too damn busy to date anyone much less consider entering into a relationship. But stepping into the shower with a huge hard-on courtesy of Emily and friends, Mitchell began to think that maybe he needed to get out, he needed to find a woman, someone with whom he could exercise his apparently re-birthing sex drive.

Standing under the hot sharp stream of the shower, Mitchell tried to frame his outlook about the future direction of his love life while he soaped up his body. What was the name of that cute little school mom? She was so pretty and always seemed to smile brightly when he said hello. He made up his mind that he was going to see if he could get something going with her. Maybe see if she might be interested in going out. Nothing fancy. Just something. Anything to take his mind off Emily and her off-limits friends.

Then his hand brushed against the long thick hard-on dangling between his legs and reminded him of the sight of Emily and her pals. He closed his eyes and pictured them lying on their lounges, mostly naked to the heat of the sun's rays. His hand stroked his shaft gently thinking of the perfect shape of Emily's breasts, the cleft of her sweet sex, the firm curves of her ass. Fuck! What am I doing, he thought. Just how sad is this? Jerking off to the sight of someone that I can never have! Mitchell let go of his cock and turned the water on cold, hoping the resulting shudder would shake him free of these impossible thoughts.

After drying off, he dressed in a pair of shorts, grabbed his book, a glass of wine, a plate of cheese, and finally made it out to the front porch to read for a while. He had finished two chapters by early evening. Timothy was dropped off from his friend's house and Kelly arrived home from her lifeguard job. When Mitchell went inside, he found Emily sitting with her friends in the breakfast nook. The sheer cover-ups that the girls had pulled on did little about concealing their nakedness, and Mitchell struggled but was fairly successful about maintaining eye contact with them. Since Katie and Lizzie were showing no sign of leaving, Mitchell invited them to stay for dinner and they gladly accepted.

"Nothing special," Mitchell conceded. "I picked up some real nice Salmon filets at the grocery earlier."

"Sounds yummy," Lizzie said, licking her chops.

Mitchell fired up the grill and prepared the dinner with help from Emily, who put together a great salad. Kelly and Timothy gladly made up the rest of the dinner party who gathered around the big glass table outside on the deck. Although several years younger than the other girls, Kelly fit in pretty well holding her own with them and by the end of the dinner it seemed like they had all made friends. At one point, when the girls were all talking at the same time and giggling endlessly, Timothy leaned over to his father and said, "Do you understand a single thing that they are saying?"

Mitchell laughed, then shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"I can't either," Timothy whispered with good-natured disgust. "Girls!"

"Yeah, go figure," Mitchell laughed.

While he was carrying the dirty dishes into the house, Emily followed Mitchell closely with an armload of her own.

"So what do you think?" she asked.

"Think about what?" Mitchell asked, caught off guard by her question.

"About my friends, silly."

"They're great. Really cute. It's nice to see you have such great friends."

"You know, Mitch," she said, setting the plates down beside the sink. She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked at Mitchell closely. "If you wanted to date Katie or Lizzie, I would be okay with it."

"I don't know, Emmie," Mitchell said, more than a little surprised by her comment. "Don't you think your friends are little too young for me."

"They both said you were kind of cute," Emily remarked.

"Oh, yeah? They said that?"

"Uh-huh. And from the way that Katie is checking you out, I thinks she really likes you."

"I don't know." 

"You know that if it isn't you, it's going to be someone else," she remarked. "Why not you? You're a good guy and would treat them the way a girl should be treated."

"But that's it. They're girls. I'm thinking I need a woman."

"Suit yourself, Mitch. But you may be missing out on a chance to make one of those girls into a woman."

Mitchell laughed at Emily's remark and she giggled too, but her expression told him that she wasn't entirely joking with him.

After dinner, Kelly went off for the night with some friends and Timothy busied himself with his game system. Mitchell found himself sitting around the deck outside with Emily and her friends, feeling relaxed now that the rum had helped to dissipate his randy arousal from earlier in the day. They talked and listened to the music playing over the outside speakers. 

The girls did most of the talking and Mitchell did most of the listening. He was fascinated with their patter, finding their observations about men and movies and music interesting and revealing. They were so much different from the girls he remembered at the same age. They were worldly and aware. They were Internet savvy, smart and confident, and completely comfortable with their sexuality. As they sat around the table, he noted the casual sprawl of their firm young bodies and how absolutely unashamed they were to be sitting with him wearing just a skimpy bathing suit bottom and a gauzy cover-up. He found it refreshing and innocent, and chalked up his mild state of stimulation to his own inherent lasciviousness. 

Later on, when they all went for a swim under the stars, the girls did make a point of putting their tops back on, not that they concealed much once they were wet again. The girls gathered around the large inflatable tube and floated about the pool while Mitchell swam a few laps. When he swam over to join them, he began to get the subtle but distinct feeling that they were flirting with him, especially Katie. Not that he minded the attention of a lovely young woman, but each brush of her leg against his under the water, each bump of her hips or touch of her hand or passing glimpse of her sexy body felt like more than a mere accident.

When the evening turned into night and Mitchell had put Timothy to bed, they emptied the last pitcher of drinks. Mitchell noticed that Lizzie and Katie were both pretty blasted. Emily finally approached Mitchell who was cleaning up in the kitchen.

"Would you mind if Lizzie and Katie spend the night?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, why would I have no problem with that? You have enough room for them both don't you?"

"My bed is kind of big. I'm sure we'll have plenty of room."

"Just no pillow fights," Mitchell cracked. "Unless you invite me to watch."

"You perv!" she exclaimed and punched him playfully on the arm. Then she went off to rejoin her friends.

When Mitchell was satisfied that the kitchen was in order, he checked on Timothy before wishing the girls a good night and then headed off to bed. Slipping between the cool silken sheets, he lay back and replayed the events of the day. Just remembering the mostly naked sun bathing beauties renewed his erection and he stroked himself gently thinking about what Emily had suggested. Would it hurt to ask one of them out? It might actually be kind of fun to go out with a much younger girl. His friends would certainly be thoroughly jealous and have a few things to say about it should he show up at a social function with a decidedly younger woman. But it was late and he was tired and had a heady rum buzz and Mitchell soon fell asleep.

It was in the middle of the night when Mitchell was awakened by the sound of someone moving down the hallway and into his room. Thinking it was Timothy, who every once in while had a bad dream, he drew back the top sheet and said, "Come on, there's plenty of room for you, Timmy." Then he rolled over and opened his eyes.

"Ooo, thanks for the invitation, but my name isn't Timmy," whispered Katie as she climbed onto the bed beside him. "But thanks for the invitation."

"Wait a minute! You're not Timothy!" Mitchell said, sitting up in surprise when Katie, wearing just a skimpy tank top and panties, sprawled on the sheet beside him.

"No, I'm not and aren't you glad?" she said, moving closer and trying to snuggle up to him.

"What are you doing here?" Mitchell said, scooting over to try and keep from touching her.

"I couldn't get to sleep. Lizzie and Emily are such bed hogs! I tried sleeping on the floor but couldn't get comfortable. I got to thinking that you might have room for me in this big old bed."

"Well ... I ... um ... gees, I don't know."

Katie hadn't been so talkative during the day, but in his sleepy dreamy state of mind, Mitchell didn't really care as she rolled onto her side, propped her head up on a big fat pillow, and looked over at him.

"You've got a huge bed that's mostly empty," she said sweeping her arm across the sheets toward him. "There's no law against having a young chick share your bed is there?"

"No, but-"

"So there," she said softly. "It's not like we're going to fool around or anything ... that is, unless you want to."

Mitchell glanced at Katie lying on the bed beside him. In the soft moonlight that streamed in through the sheer drapes, he could see her big dark eyes sparkling as she looked at him. The little tank top and scanty panties she was wearing hardly concealed her round voluptuous young body. He could see the tips of her nipples protrude into the soft thin cotton fabric and the slit of her sex was visible through the tiny triangle of satin between her legs.

"I ... I don't think this is too cool, Katie. Why don't you let me make a spot for you downstairs on the sofa sleeper?"

Katie rolled onto her back and stretched out.

"But I kind of like it here. I love these sheets," she remarked as her hand glided over the cool silk-blend fabric.

"Hmm," Mitchell hummed.

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a prude, Mitch. Lay down, close your eyes and relax. Once you go back to sleep, you won't even know that I'm here."

Mitchell was skeptical. Even though the top sheet covered his nakedness, he felt exposed. He also felt foolish. Before falling asleep earlier that night he had thought about dating someone like Katie and now here she was in his bed and he was thinking of ways to kick her out. Am I a fool or what, he thought.

"All right. We can try this," he offered. "But no funny business."

"Not just a little?" Katie teased.

"Hmm," Mitchell growled again.

He slunk back down and pulled the sheet up to his chin, remaining rock still for several moments. The thought that Katie was the first woman to climb onto this bed since Angela died entered his mind. Mitchell looked over when Katie rolled back onto her side facing him and gathered a couple of pillows under her head. She sighed deeply. Her nearly naked moonlit curves were a dreamy sight. Mitchell then reached over to cover her with the sheet, but she protested.

"That's okay, hon. It's too warm tonight for that."

Mitchell still felt tired but wasn't ready to fall back asleep just yet as his mind raced quickly with his pulse knowing that Emily's sexy friend was laying beside him just inches away. He rolled over onto his side facing away from Katie and took a deep breath. Maybe this would work out all right after all. He felt the bed move as Katie shifted her position. Mitchell closed his eyes and tried to relax. Then he felt her hand on his back, a soft warm palm that traced down from his shoulder down toward his waist.

"Hey, I thought no monkey business," he said trying to sound gruff, but knowing he had failed.

"Sorry," she replied and quickly withdrew her hand. "Your back just looked so sexy in the moonlight that I had to touch you. You have such soft, sexy skin."

Mitchell chuckled. "Backs aren't sexy."

"They can be. You have a very strong back, and strong backs are sexy."

Then he felt her hand again, trailing gently over his shoulders and down again toward his waist slipping underneath the sheet. When she reached his bare butt, Katie giggled.

"You're sleeping bare ass!" she squealed softly.

"Um, yeah. That's one reason I wasn't so keen on this arrangement."

"I usually sleep in the nude too," she said in a quiet husky voice. "Then you won't mind if I ..."

Mitchell didn't reply when her voice trailed off. He just sort of grunted and resettled his body under the sheet. Then he felt the bed move again and heard the soft shimmering sound of fabric gliding over skin. He glanced over his shoulder to see Katie sitting up on the bed, pulling her tank top off over her head. He caught a glimpse of her large full breasts bouncing and settling as she straightened out her top and tossed it onto the nightstand. Then she hooked her thumbs under the elastic of her panties and picked up her hips to slip the scrap of silk down her long legs. When she held the pair of panties up, he could see that they were just a little g-string. Before settling back down on the bed, Katie looked over at him and smiled. Mitchell looked away from her.

"Don't try to hide it, Mitch, you bad boy! I saw you sneaking a peek," she said, lying back down, this time close enough to Mitchell that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his back. "It's all right if you see me naked. I'm proud of my body and work hard to keep in shape."

"It shows. You have a beautiful body."

"Then why did you look away?"

"I wasn't looking away because I didn't like what I saw."

"I wouldn't have taken off my clothes if I was afraid of you seeing me naked."

Mitchell just lay there breathing deeply. He could hear the sound of her breath as well as it washed over his back. When he turned over onto his back, his arm brushed against her breast. Katie still hadn't pulled up the sheet. When she saw him looking at her, she rolled onto her back and stretched out provocatively.

Without thinking, the words just spilled out of Mitchell. "You have a beautiful body, Katie. Simply spectacular."

"Thank you," she replied. "Yours is pretty nice too."

Mitchell shrugged.

Katie suddenly snaked her hand under the sheet and reached for his crotch.

"This is pretty nice too," she said when her palm brushed over his erection.

Mitchell flinched noticeably at her touch.

"Come on, I thought we agreed no fooling around."

"You're the one who doesn't want to fool around," Katie remarked truthfully. "You don't want me touching your dick? Won't let me cop just an innocent little feel?"

"If we start fooling around like that, it will only lead to more."

"Like what? I start stroking this long hard dick of yours ... you start kissing my big tits ... I start sucking your yummy cock ... you start tonguing my wet little pussy ... we start fucking?"

"Um, yeah. I think that's kind of what I think would happen."

"And that wouldn't be so terrible, would it?" Katie asked, pulling the sheet down off Mitchell's body exposing the tremendous hard-on that was standing nearly straight up from his body. "I can see that at least part of you doesn't think that would be so bad."

Katie sat up and leaned over his body, her long silky dark hair brushing over his chest and abdomen. When he felt her breath draw near to his throbbing member, Mitchell reached over to her head, threading his fingers through her soft thick locks.

"Wait. No," he said.

Katie defied his grip on her and lowered her mouth down to kiss the head of his cock. He winced and groaned at the warm damp pleasure that her kiss brought to his under-used manhood. Mitchell felt her lips part and slowly descend over the head of his cock, enveloping him. Katie was sucking him into her mouth, her tongue swirling all around the head of his impatient cock. Mitchell exhaled sharply, trying to brush away the greedy pleasure that was washing hungrily through his body.

"No. Stop," he said, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her warm wet mouth off his cock. A string of saliva ran from her full lips to the head of his dick.

"What's your problem, Mitch?" Katie asked after she wiped her mouth dry. "Don't you want me to suck your dick?"

"Oh, god, no. I do, but it ... it ... it just doesn't feel right."

"What? You didn't like the way I was sucking your dick?" Katie sounded a little indignant, yet her hand continued to stroke his slick cock gently but firmly.

"No, that's not it. You're really good at that. Really good. Believe me! It's just that I have to feel some sort of connection with a woman before I have sex."

"Oh, so you're the kind of guy who has to 'fall in love' before you have sex?"

"Not exactly, but close I guess," Mitchell said. "Look, you're a gorgeous girl. You've got everything going for you, but I just don't know you, who you are, where you came from, where you're going, what you want out of life. So many other things too."

"So if I tell you my life story, then we can have sex?" she asked. Mitchell wasn't sure if she was kidding around with him or completely serious.

"No ...no," he said trying to dismiss his objections.

Mitchell slowly let go of her hair. She looked at him with her big dark eyes, her gorgeous lush ripe body brushing against him. Her full lips curled into a smile, then she laughed softly with amusement.

"You know, I've never had a guy turn down a blow job, ever!" she remarked, her hand still curled around his cock. She moved toward him, dragging her big firm breasts over his chest, bringing her face close to his. She looked into his eyes for a several moments. "I'll bet I know what it is," she said softly, letting go of his cock and gliding her hand up over his body till it reached his face. "It's Emily, isn't it?"

"Huh?" was all Mitchell could respond.

"It's Emily. You really want Emily."

"I don't think so. Why would you say that?"

"Oh, come on, Mitch, admit it. She's the one you want. I may not be the smartest girl around, but I know men inside and out. No guy in his right mind is gonna turn me down unless there's someone else. It must be Emily. I can tell."

"No, It's not. It's not her."

Katie didn't respond, She simply laid her head down on his chest and snuggled her lush curves up against his body. When Mitchell tried to say another word of protest, she reached up and laid her hand over his mouth, muffling his words until they trailed off. 




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 02



They didn't exchange another word until morning. They simply lie close together and slowly fell asleep. When the first light of morning dawned and spread across Mitchell's bed, he awoke to find himself spooning with Katie, his dreamy hard-on nestled up between her legs, resting near the warm damp split of her cleanly shaven sex. He looped his arm up around her into the generous valley between her breasts and gave her a little hug. She purred softly and he fell back asleep.

When he awoke again, it was nearly ten o'clock and Katie was gone from his bed. As he sat up on the sheets, Mitchell began to think that it was all just a dream. But then he saw her tiny black g-string on his nightstand. He picked it up and fondled it, bringing it to his nose for a little sniff. I am some sort of fool, aren't I, he thought. He shook his head, smiled and got up to wash up, dress and go down to breakfast. Katie didn't say a word to the others about what had happened during the night. When it came time to leave, she gave him a warm hug.

"You're a real gentleman, Mitch," she said softly out of earshot of her friends. "There aren't many like you around."

"I'll bet there's one out there just for you," he whispered into her ear.

"Take care, Mitch, and thanks for everything," she said. "I hope you get what you're looking for."

He noticed that she didn't say, "find," she said, "get." After Emily finished walking Katie and Lizzie out to their car, she came up to Mitchell standing in the kitchen, filling up the dishwasher with the dirty breakfast dishes.

"So what was that about?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"The big hug and kiss from Katie."

"It might have been a hug, but there was no kiss."

"You sure there isn't something brewing between you two?" Emily asked impishly.

"I can assure you that nothing is happening between Katie and me. Nothing."

"Okay," Emily said. "But I'd be okay if there was." She gave him an interesting but puzzling look as she left the room. 

Mitchell thought long and hard about the last twenty-four hours. He shook his head thinking that, despite what Katie and the rest might think, there was no way he was developing feelings for Emily, other than pure and simple appreciation for what she was doing, looking after his kids for him. He really did like her a lot, but that was all. She was way too young for him and if he was going to date anyone, it would most likely be that cute little mom he often saw around Timothy's school.

* * *

It just so happened that a few days later, Mitchell stopped off at the local market to pick up a few groceries, a trip that usually ended up with him pushing a completely filled cart through the checkout.

"Hello, there," said Layla, the checkout girl, or so her nametag read. Must have been conceived while some Clapton was playing, Mitchell thought with amusement. "Did you find everything all right?" she asked attentively.

"Sure did, more than what was on my list," Mitchell answered.

"Great! Our kind of customer," the girl replied.

Mitchell had seen her around before, a slender goth-styled girl with jet-black hair and big dark eyes. He remembered her because of her gaudy silver jewelry emblazoned with snakes and skulls and weird twisted vines. As usual, he made small talk with her while he imagined what sort of tattoos or piercings might lie underneath her tight black t-shirt and tight black jeans. 

As he began to bag his groceries and set them in his cart, his eye caught sight of the person following him in line. She had just come up behind him, apparently in a rush. It was the cute little mom that he remembered seeing in the mornings many times around Timothy's school. Her face was flushed and she seemed out of breath. She brushed her strawberry blonde hair from her face and began to unpack her groceries from the hand-held basket, an appetizing assortment: bottle of red wine, some tortellini, some fancy tomato sauce, a couple loaves of French bread.

"Say, can I eat at your place tonight?" he asked impulsively, the thought coming to his mind and jumping out unexpectedly past his lips.

She stopped suddenly and looked at him.

"Do I know you?" she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Our kids go to Thornton Creek," Mitchell remarked. "You probably don't recognize me without a skinny little ten-year-old boy in tow."

It took a long moment for the recognition to show in her face. Just long enough for Mitchell to feel his face grow warm and flush with embarrassment. She probably has no idea who the hell I am, he thought. Then a weak little smile appeared on her face.

"Skinny kid, blond hair, brown eyes?" she asked.

Mitchell was surprised that she remembered and nodded.

"Never saw him before," she added with a blank look.

Mitchell flopped back into embarrassment mode.

"Just kidding," she chipped in quickly. "I remember you from the Winter Carnival at the school. You were helping with the hot cocoa booth."

"Guilty."

The checkout girl had finished running his groceries through the register and he flashed his credit card.

"So what army are you cooking for?" the school mom asked as Mitchell set the last bag atop his full cart.

"Just my kids, can't keep 'em fed it seems," he confessed.

Mitchell took inventory of the woman behind him in line. Maybe five-five, strawberry blonde hair that fell below her shoulders, blue eyes, pretty smile, nice firm little breasts, narrow waist, nice flaring hips, and a tight pair of buns from what he could tell through her khaki slacks. Most importantly her left hand was bare with no rings of any kind. He certainly felt an attraction. 

"I know the feeling. I just have the one and it's hard to keep up," she commented.

"You two celebrating tonight or what?" he asked as he signed the receipt for Layla, the checkout girl.

"Oh, this? I'm eating alone tonight. My son is with his father tonight. Soccer night."

"Ah, okay."

There was a moment's pause.

"And you?"

"Me?" Mitchell said. "Oh, dinner? I think I'm eating at home with my kids. Em-er, my nanny probably has something ready."

"Oh," said the cute little mom, looking a little disappointed. "Must be nice." She sighed and glanced over at Layla, the checkout girl, who had obviously finished with Mitchell and was launching into her "did you find everything okay" spiel.

Mitchell began to push his cart away. His pulse was racing faster than his mind could think. He remembered Stuart's advice given a long time ago. When you see something you like and you turn your back, you'll never see it again. Mitchell glanced back at the cute mom and heard the sound of her voice chatting with Layla. He took another step toward the door and then stopped and turned around.

"Excuse me, but ... um, if you don't want to eat alone ..." he began. The mom looked over at him with surprise. "I was going to suggest that if you're ... you're going to eat alone and don't want to, you know, eat alone, maybe we could ... um, you know ... get together."

The mom's head tilted slightly to the side as her dark blue eyes swept up and down his body performing a quick appraisal. First impressions are always important. Since his pick-up line wasn't exactly smooth, Mitchell hoped that at least his boyish charm and his smile would turn the trick.

"You like Italian?" she asked as Layla ran the tortellini and red sauce through the scanner.

"I've been known to put away my share," Mitchell answered.

"I don't know," the mom said, then turned toward Layla. "What do you think?"

"He's kind of cute and shy and charming," said Layla the checkout clerk. "I'd cook for him."

"Think so?" the mom asked. Mitchell might have been waffling in the breeze but it appeared that the little mom was struggling to keep a straight face.

"Well, he doesn't look like an ax murderer or anything," Layla replied with a wink in his direction. "If you're not interested I'll go for it."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," the mom said and then smiled broadly. "Sure. Why not?"

Mitchell was relieved. He waited patiently for her to finish with her modest bag of groceries then walked with her out to her car.

"I guess we haven't met yet," he said. "I'm Mitchell Gallagher."

"Hi. I'm Brandy Goodman," she replied with a lovely smile.

"Brandy?" Mitchell grinned. "That's a terrific name but I didn't know that parents actually named their daughters Brandy."

"What do you mean?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Mitchell said, "but it sort of sounds like the name of the sexy fantasy girl in a cheesy fifties crime novel."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted," Brandy replied.

"Um, I'd go for flattered," Mitchell said trying to make up. "It's a beautiful name, just like the girl it belongs to."

"Oh, you silver-tongued devil," Brandy said, stopping by a white Grand Prix. "So you want to stop by around seven?"

"Sure. That'll give me enough time to put all this away and get ready."

"Terrific."

"See you then."

Mitchell started to wheel his cart away when Brandy called out after him.

"Grace Street," she prompted. "875 Grace Street." 

Mitchell stopped and turned back.

"Right, your address," he said.

"If you don't show up, I'll have to eat all this pasta and drink the whole bottle of wine by myself."

"I wouldn't want to have that on my conscience," Mitchell replied. "I'll see you at seven."

"Nice to meet you, Mitchell."

"Same here, Brandy."

Mitchell began to load his groceries into his SUV and watched as Brandy peeled away in her white sedan, flashing him a great smile and a wave. Suddenly he felt a twinge of excitement inside. Finally, he thought. All right!

When he made it home, Emily and the kids were almost as excited as he was.

"All right, Dad!" Kelly said. "Way to go!"

"So who is the lucky girl?" Emily asked with a happy grin.

"Ran into her at the grocery store. I've seen her around Timmy's school. Name's Brandy. Has a little boy."

"Brandy Goodman?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"I know her. Little Jonathan in the first grade."

"Don't know."

"She's a little sweetheart. Divorced. Lives with her parents near the school. A Pisces too I believe."

"And just how do you know all this?"

"I see her in the morning when she drops Jonathan off. We sort of chat in passing."

"Anything I should know about before I go over there?"

"You know it's against the Chick Code to reveal confidential information. Any more than what I told you is up to you to find out."

Damn!" Mitchell groused playfully. "I was sort of hoping for a insightful cheat code."

He heard Emily and the kids laugh as he went upstairs to wash up and change. He was glad that Emily was so upbeat and encouraging about his little date. Actually it wasn't a little date, it was his first since Angela passed. He didn't want to think any more about that so he busied himself getting ready. When he strode down the stairs in a clean shirt and pressed slacks, Emily gave out a little whistle.

"Say, handsome. Looking for a date?" Emily asked flirtatiously.

"Sorry, baby. I'm already taken tonight," Mitchell replied.

"Damn! And I was hoping to get lucky tonight."

Mitchell tried to relax as he drove over to Brandy's house. Relax and be yourself, he thought. This wasn't all that big a thing, was it? Well, maybe it was. He hadn't been on a real date since ... since dating Angela, and now he was going over to the house of a woman that he didn't really know all that well. Mitchell knew what she looked like, and he really liked that. He knew where she lived and only the most basic things about her. But who was she? What made her tick? What made her happy ... or sad? What made her cum? Oh, wait! I am way too far of myself on that, he thought. Fortunately, they didn't live all that far apart so that he wouldn't end up thinking too much and he quickly found himself pulling up in front of 875 Grace Street.

It was a balmy summer night, the sun was no where near setting, and Mitchell inhaled the pungent fertile aroma of roses in full bloom as he strolled confidently up to the front door. The door was open when he knocked and it took a few moments for Brandy to appear. She seemed flushed, almost hurried, dressed in a modest pink top and snug blue jeans.

"Hi," Mitchell said in greeting. "Am I early?"

"Nope, it's seven-oh-one," Brandy replied, her high, rounded cheekbones flush and rosy. "Um, come on in," she offered, opening the door.

Mitchell stepped inside. It was an older home and it felt like it had been lived in a long time. The furnishings were antique and well-kept, and the aroma from the kitchen wetted his appetite.

"This is nice," Mitchell said. He noted a wonderful secretary standing proudly against a wall. "That is really nice."

"Thanks, this is my parents' house," Brandy said. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Wine would be okay."

"Can you do the honors? I'm not good at opening wine bottles."

Mitchell followed her toward the kitchen, picking up on the dining table set for two, complete with candelabra blazing. He quickly essayed the wine and poured a pair of short glasses while Brandy tended the stove.

"Almost ready," she said nervously, accepting her wine glass.

"Cheers!" Mitchell toasted. "To new friends."

"New friends. Yes," Brandy remarked before taking a sip of the Cabernet.

"My compliments to the wine steward," Mitchell said, savoring his own first sip. "She obviously has great taste."

The blush on Brandy's cheeks was lovely and endearing. Mitchell wondered if he was over-the-top on that last comment. She moved back to the stove and snapped off the burners. She glanced around apprehensively. They regarded each other awkwardly. Mitchell sensed that there was something that needed to be said.

"Thanks for inviting me over," he blurted out.

"Actually, I should thank you for inviting yourself over," Brandy said with a grin. "I've seen you around the school from time to time. You always seem to be in such a rush. I guess I never thought that you would ... you know, be interested."

"I'm always interested in interesting people," Mitchell replied.

He helped her bring the dinner to the table and chuckled when she brought out a cheese grinder for the pasta. The dining room was small and intimate. There were a few initial awkward moments before they finally managed to break open the logjam and the conversation suddenly began to flow freely.

They talked about their individual situations, divorce and death, the school system, and their jobs. The most animated conversation was about their children. When they got around to talking about dating, Mitchell was surprised.

"Oh, I've been out on a lot of dates," Brandy stated with a deep sigh. "I've met a lot of guys. They seem to find me all over. I can't hardly go to the restroom without some guy hitting on me."

"So that's why you were sort of hesitant?"

"Hesitant isn't even the word. I loathe dating now. It used to be so much fun when I was younger. Every guy was such a different adventure. But now ... since my divorce it's become such a chore. He's going to say all the right things, make all the requisite gestures, open doors, compliment my mother, and when it comes right down to it, all he wants is to get inside my pants."

Mitchell sat back on his chair, hearing the ensuing squeak.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that, right?" Mitchell cracked.

Brandy busted out laughing.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that, Mitchell. I love sex-at least I used to. I think about it often, I remember the best times and wonder when they're going to happen again. I'd just hate to think that the best times are over."

"Well, you've just met me," Mitchell cracked with a smile.

They had finished their dinners. The pasta and salad and bread were great. The last pour of the wine was split between their glasses. Mitchell helped her clear the table and stood beside her while she loaded up the dishwasher.

"Oh, my god!" she exclaimed softly. "I forgot all about dessert! I don't think there's anything in the house!"

Mitchell held up his hands and shrugged.

"Not to worry. We're not that far from Rebecca's ice cream parlor. Why don't we walk down to the ice cream shop for dessert and give our meals a chance to settle."

Brandy smiled. "That's a great idea!"

So they walked, hands in their pockets at first, then halfway downtown Mitchell took her hand and clasped it gently. Brandy grinned effusively. They ordered double ice cream cones and sat at a table outside. They talked and relaxed and watched as the sun set over the modest small town skyline.

"So have you dated much since your wife died?" Brandy asked, her pink tongue licked wantonly at the huge pile of ice cream packed into her cone.

"Actually, don't laugh. This is my first date."

"Get out!"

"For sure. First date. Here. With you."

"Wow! I'm flattered."

"I haven't really thought about it much till now, but lately I've been thinking that I need to get out. It's been well over a year."

Brandy leaned back in her chair, her delightfully active pink tongue licking at her ice cream. She savored a full lick from the cone and then leveled her eyes at Mitchell.

"So why me?"

"Please don't be offended, but because you were there."

"So if some sweet old lady followed you at the market she would have been the lucky lady?"

"Hardly. Not that I have anything against sweet old ladies, but I've seen you about and thought about you a few times, wondering just what was your deal. I sort of told myself that the next time I saw you, if I ever saw you, that I was going to ask you out or something. I didn't know what. Just something."

A group of motorcyclists roared past up Center Street and both pairs of eyes followed them. When their eyes met up again, Mitchell savored the dark luminous blue of hers.

"I'm glad that you did something," Brandy remarked. "This has been fun. Real nice fun."

It had been great fun for Mitchell. He was out with an interesting woman, they were getting along famously, and from the look in her eyes and the sweet lilt of her voice the attraction was mutual. After finishing their ice cream, they took the long way back to her place. Passing one of the neighbor's houses with a rose arbor over the front gate, Mitchell pinched a pair of aromatic roses off the vine, sniffed them and then stuffed them into her hair. Brandy giggled like a schoolgirl and Mitchell took her hand again. They both took a step back toward her parents' house, then stopped and turned to face each other.

"I hope you're for real," Brandy said. 

"I'm here aren't I?"

In the gathering darkness, she leaned up toward him and they kissed, very tentatively at first, almost like junior high schoolers. Mitchell could feel the tension brewing between them. It felt like there were a ton of passions built up in both of them that seemed about to explode. With a pale nearly full moon above, they held hands and looked deeply into each other's eyes. Brandy rocked up onto her tiptoes and they kissed again. Mitchell eased his arms around her back, pulling her gently against him. Brandy's arms raised up over his shoulders and she pulled her mouth toward his. Her lips were soft and moist and tender and she let loose the lightest little whimper as their mouths pressed and ground against one another's.

"Think we should get a room?" Mitchell said in a gentle breathless voice when they finally parted.

"You're funny," Brandy remarked, looking up at him, her eyes large in the moonlight.

"Excuse me?"

"That's not a joke or something, Mitchell. You just say things that make me laugh. No one has done that in a long, long time."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

They shared a brief brushing little kiss and then walked back up Grace Street to her parents' house. Once inside, Brandy raided her parents' liquor cabinet for some old cognac.




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 03



The following week, Mitchell had lunch with his good friend Stuart.

"So how's the old love life?" Stuart asked, being to the point as usual.

"Okay, I guess. I actually had a date last week."

"No kidding. Great. How'd it go?"

"The date was terrific, but I don't think it's going anyplace, certainly not where she wants to go."

"Who was it?"

"A cute little mom from Timothy's school. Said I was too intense for her. Nice girl, just not for me."

"Sorry to hear that," Stuart replied. "But at least it's a start. So how's it going with the nanny?" 

"Good! I mean, really great ... I mean ..."

"What do you mean?"

"Emily is terrific with the kids. She gets them up in the morning, dressed fed and off to school. I don't have to give it a second thought. When I come home at night, the kids have finished their homework, there's a hot meal on the stove, and the house is neat and clean. It's sort of weird, almost like Angela was still there, except for all the bullshit."

"Bullshit?"

"Well, maybe you didn't know, but things weren't going so well between us for a quite a while before she got sick."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I didn't know and you never told me," Stuart remarked, sounding a bit hurt at not having been a confidant when Mitchell's marriage had gone sour. "I guess that Angela never said anything to Allison about it either, at least that I know of. But honestly, I did suspect something, and with all that happened afterwards you sort of forget about it."

"Doesn't matter. That's not the point. Point is that this girl is fantastic. Emily has taken so much of the burden off me that I find myself on the weekend finding extra special kind of things to do with the kids because I haven't had to be with them all week long, nagging them about homework or picking up their rooms, or finding crumpled snack wrappers on the couch."

"And that's a problem?" Stuart asked.

"No. It's not a problem."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, the trouble with Emily is that she is too perfect. She's beautiful and sweet and sexy and everything that I could wish for in a woman."

"But?"

"But she's more than twenty years younger than me and is driving me crazy, stark raving fucking nuts."

"What do you mean?"

"The way she dresses so sexy and appealing, little things she says, nice little things she does for me, the way I catch little glimpses of her here and there around the house."

"Do you think that she's doing it on purpose?"

"No, I don't think that at all. She seems pretty innocent about the way she acts around me."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's like she's woken something up inside me that I put to bed a long, long time ago. When I'm around her I get ideas, I start to forget the difference in our ages."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Mitch. You're a good-looking guy; you've kept yourself in shape. You look younger than your age. You've got a nice house, great paying job. I'd think you would be attractive to a lot of women, young or old."

"But I can't get involved with her. She's less than half my age, she has a boyfriend, she's still in college, she's the same age as ... well, I could easily be her father. Hell, I'm probably older than her father for Christ sake!"

"So what you're telling me is that you're like falling for her?"

"Hell no! Well, maybe not. I don't think so. It's just that after I come home and we sit down like a family and have dinner, and we talk and share the day, and then the kids go off and we clean up, I just find myself feeling ... feeling ... feeling ..."

"Like she's Angela?"

"Oh, no! And God, forgive me, better."

"So what's the trouble?"

"The trouble is that I ... she ... we ... I don't know how to put it ..."

Stuart pushed back from the table and looked at him intently. They had been close friends for years and could read each other like a Dick and Jane book. "Sounds to me like you're falling for her."

"Fuck no!"

"Pfft! Hey, don't blow this one off, old man. I think you have to have a talk with her, or better yet, a long talk with yourself. Sounds like there are some issues here that you have to get straight in your head before you say a word to her."

Mitchell had that long talk with himself off and on all that afternoon. He had no intention of falling in love, not with Emily. What would his kids think? What would his friends think? What would his family think? What would his-then he realized something. He was so concerned about what other people thought and felt that he was paying no attention to what he thought or felt. 

What did he feel? Sure, maybe it was wrong on so many levels, in so many ways, but Mitchell couldn't deny what he felt in his heart for Emily. Once her friend Katie had planted the seed in his mind and Stuart had watered it just a bit, Mitchell knew that there was something special about Emily. He loved the feeling of anticipation each time he expected to see her, and the tingling feeling each time he did see her. Did she feel the same? The only other person who mattered was Emily, and again his old buddy, Stuart, was right. Mitchell had to talk to her about it, but he would wait for the right time and place.

* * *

The next weekend, Mitchell hosted his annual pool party for the closest of his neighbors. It turned out that Emily didn't have any plans that weekend and joined in the festivities. It was a terrific day. The neighbors and friends gathered in the afternoon and swam and played in and around the pool, enjoying the brilliant sunshine.

"So who's the sexy little girlfriend?" asked Pete Winter, as Emily passed by in a flowered bikini that was just a bit more modest than her other suits.

"That's Emily, my nanny," Mitchell replied.

"Nanny, huh?" Pete replied. "Karen and I had seen her around town and we figured that you had picked up a little cupcake to sweeten your life."

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," he said admiring the way Emily moved about the neighbors like a perfect hostess, making sure that they were all attended to. "Strictly business."

"Yeah, sure," Pete replied. And he wasn't the only one to say anything. A few of the others asked about her, but Mitchell went through the same explanation. She was just his nanny, a nice young girl with a boyfriend who was working her way through college. He must have been pretty convincing because as the afternoon went on, even he was beginning to believe that Emily was just the nanny.

Late in the afternoon Mitchell grilled some hamburgers and sweet corn and the neighbors passed around some special homemade salads and side dishes that they had brought to share. By early evening, most of those who had kids bid their goodbyes after a final swim. By midnight only a few diehards were left scattered about the various klatches of deck chairs talking and laughing quietly among themselves in the aquamarine glow of the pool lights.

Emily and Mitchell found themselves sitting on a pair of deck chairs at the far end of the pool away from the others. She had pulled on a tank top over her swimsuit. As they sipped their wine, she casually untied her suit top and pulled it off from underneath her top. When she noticed that Mitchell was watching her closely, she grinned.

"It was wet and kind of bugging me," she said, the flimsy suit top dangling from her fingers.

"Well, now it's bugging me," Mitch replied, nodding toward Emily as she sat beside him, the snug tank top dampened from her wet body and clinging to every lush curve of her breasts, including her stiffened nipples that were protruding provocatively.

"And you're complaining?" Emily leaned back and raised her arms above her head, a move that only made her appear more stimulating. She let her arms fall back down with a shrug that sent the sexiest little jiggle to her breasts.

"I have never complained about anything that was beautiful to behold."

"Is that a compliment?" she asked, looking up at him intently. Then she grinned again and kept her eyes focused on his. "You're flirting with me, aren't you, Mitch?"

"I'm not flirting, Emmie, just stating the facts," Mitchell replied, casting his gaze down and away. There was a warm flush filling his cheeks. "It's just that you act so sexy sometimes, it makes it hard on an old fart like me."

"You're not an old fart," she said. "Not at all. You're actually kind of cute, you know."

"And more than twice your age," Mitch replied. It was plain that several glasses of wine had combined with the late hour and Emily's presence to lift the restrictions on their conversation.

"Older men can be so sexy-well to me at least," Emily replied. Her blue-green eyes were lustrous and gleaming.

"Well, look at who is flirting now," Mitchell chuckled with amusement.

"I'm not flirting, just stating the facts," she responded and then stuck her tongue out playfully. She held out her empty wine glass. "Can you pour some more of that?"

Mitchell filled her glass. 

"What a great night," Emily said, leaning back and looking up at the stars.

"It is," Mitchell replied. "And thanks for all your help today."

"You're welcome," Emily said. "We have some really great neighbors. It nice to meet so many of them."

Mitchell chuckled at the way she said, "we" so casually as if they were a couple or a family. 

"So have you and Brian been together for a long time?" Mitchell asked.

"Ever since high school. He was my first I guess you could say. He walked me home from school one afternoon and seduced me with the offer of a massage and it was great. He's a terrific lover."

"Okay," Mitchell said, holding up his hand. "TMI."

Emily giggled. "Sorry."

"You seem pretty free and open about sex," Mitchell commented.

"I'm not ashamed of my sexuality if that's what you mean," Emily said, sipping her wine and looking at Mitchell eye to eye. Then she laughed, "Better than keeping it all hush-hush like it used to be in the old days."

"I know. I've noticed that you and your friends are very upfront about sex. I think it's really great, very refreshing, I'm just not used to it."

"I am very open about my life. You can ask me anything."

"What's your favorite position?"

"Um, either on top or doggy, but pressed up against the shower wall taken from behind is right up there."

"Those are all pretty good."

Mitchell could feel the rising tide of arousal build up inside him.

"So what's your fave?" Emily asked him.

"I'd have to say anything that lets me see your face-er, I mean her face. You know the look in her eyes when I enter her."

"Missionary? That's kind of boring don't you think?"

"Not necessarily missionary. There are a lot of ways to make love and still maintain eye contact."

"So now we're making love? I thought we were talking about having sex."

"Well there has to be love in there somewhere before there's sex."

"Sweet man."

"So what's something that I might never suspect about you?"

"That I have this kinky submissive streak."

"Kinky, like being tied up and all that?"

"Yeah ... blindfolded, cuffed to the bed, a little light whipping. Kind of kinky, huh?"

Emily let out a sexy giggle.

"What about threesomes?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, her voice growing soft and dreamy. "Watching two guys kiss is such a turn on, and then to have them both at the same time is incredible, I never came like I did that night, ever!"

"Wow, that is pretty wild," Mitchell remarked.

"I'll bet that you never had a threesome," she teased. "I'll bet that you probably even married the first woman you ever had sex with."

"No, I didn't," Mitchell protested. "In fact quite the opposite. I've had a few partners, a couple of threesomes, did some pretty crazy things in my time. Back when I was in college, I lived a pretty wild life. It was the Seventies then. I was in a rock band. We experimented a lot."

"You sound a little like my folks."

"We are of the same generation I'd guess," Mitchell admitted. "What about Brian? Does he play around too?"

"He likes to explore too. I know that he has fooled around with some crazy shit too. He's bi you know. He was one of the guys in the threesome I was telling you about."

"Hmm. Why am I not surprised?" Mitchell chuckled. "What about women?"

"I played around a little, just to experiment," Emily admitted. "It was fun and enjoyable, but my taste definitely runs toward men. Girls are so soft and curvy, but I prefer a man's strong hard body." Emily paused and looked at him. "What about men? You ever been with one?"

"I shared a woman with another guy a couple times, but there was no touching between us," Mitchell confessed. "To be honest, I just don't find anything stimulating about a man's body, but put me with a woman, and my imagination knows no bounds."

The way Emily was looking at him, Mitchell wasn't sure just what she was thinking. She was showing a sweet little grin and the sprawled position of her body was incredibly sexy.

"So what's the wildest thing you've ever done?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe dressing up in leather and playing Domme."

"Oh, baby! Spank me!" Mitchell chuckled.

"Don't laugh. It was really hot. I even got a leather bustier out of it."

"I'm not laughing."

"I know," Emily remarked. Her sparkling blue-green eyes swept up over his body. "You're picturing me wearing it and you're getting turned on thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Well, picturing you in a tight leather bustier with a whip in your hands is a pretty stimulating image." Mitchell could easily envision Emily, her tall trim body and great rack fitted into that outfit.

"You should try it some time. You might like it."

"I'd like it more if the whip was in my hands and you were bent over my lap."

"Ooo, baby. Now I'm the one getting turned on," Emily said softly. "So tell me your wildest experience."

"Doing it on the balcony of our hotel room down in Jamaica and having the people across the way applaud after she came."

Emily giggled. As she sat next to him in the glow of the pool lights, Mitchell sighed. Her expression was radiant and rosy. A vintage wine will help do that. Her eyes were lustrous and expressive. Her impish spirit had a lot to do that that. The way her body was posed in the chair, casually leaning back, her long legs stretched out before her, her breasts heaving with each breath underneath the thin damp cotton of her top, were all planting ideas in Mitchell's head. Then Mitchell looked around and saw that the last few guests were heading toward the door.

"Whoa. Guess it's getting late," he said. "I should say goodbye to my friends."

They both got up and walked the last few guests to the front door.

"Nice meeting you, Emily," said Karen Winter, giving Emily a warm embrace. "Hope to see more of you around the neighborhood."

"Thanks. Thanks for coming," Emily replied.

"Take care, you two. Thanks for having us," Pete said shaking Mitchell's hand. Then he turned toward Emily and gave her a polite, neighborly hug. "Nice meeting you, kiddo. Take care of this guy for us, okay?"

"I sure will," Emily responded. She gave Mitchell a little wink over Pete's shoulder as the neighbor gave her a gentle squeeze.

Emily and Mitchell stood at the doorway and waved at their departing neighbors.

"I hope they'll all be okay," Emily remarked as Mitchell closed the front door and set the lock. A couple seemed pretty wasted."

"I don't think they give out tickets for walking under the influence," Mitchell replied. "Besides, there are plenty of bushes to puke in, case they get sick along the way."

"Oh, gross!" Emily laughed and went into the kitchen to finish cleaning up while Mitchell made one last tour of the deck and pool area, arranging the furniture and retrieving all the stray cups and dishes. He was about to snap off the lights when Emily joined him on the deck and slumped into a chair with a sigh.

"I need a break," she said. "I am beat."

"Why don't you call it a night? I can handle the rest," Mitchell offered.

"That's okay. I want to help you," Emily said, starting to get up.

Mitchell moved behind her and rested his hand on her shoulders to keep her in the nestled in the soft cushions of the deck chair.

"No way," Mitchell said. "You just sit here and take a load off. You've already done too much as it is."

"But tomorrow is my off day. I can sleep late."

Mitchell didn't withdraw his hands from her shoulders, instead choosing to keep them on her, starting to massage her shoulders gently. Emily leaned back into the light pressure of his palms.

"Mmm, that feels good, Mitch," she sighed, letting her head tilt forward so his fingers could work on the tight muscles of her neck. "You didn't tell me that you knew massage."

"I don't," Mitchell admitted. "Not really like an expert. An old girlfriend showed me a few things a long time ago, but I've learned that it's mostly doing what comes naturally."

"Whatever, it feels really, really good."

Mitchell worked his fingers and palms up her neck and then out along her shoulders. Emily's skin felt so soft and smooth. As his hands moved on her, a strap of her tank top slipped off her shoulder. When Mitchell looked down at her, the tank top had fallen away and the upper curve of her breast had come into view nearly as far down as her nipple. His loosened inhibitions flirted with the urge to reach down and cup the perfect, fully rounded swell of her breast. But when his hands reached the edge of her shoulders, Mitchell moved away.

"Oh, don't stop," Emily said. "I was just getting into that."

"So was I," he replied. "That's why I stopped."

Emily looked up at him. "Can I ask you something, Mitch?"

"Sure anything."

"You are a really great guy, and I really enjoy working for you with the kids. This is a dream job for me."

"So what's the question?"

"It's just that sometimes you act kind of strange around me. Like just now, when you were massaging my shoulders. You like all of a sudden stop what you're doing and back away. What's with that?"

"You don't want to know," he said, sitting at a chair near her, but not next to her.

"Yes, I do. I asked to know."

"Emily, you're a terrific girl. It's been such a joy having you around here, I can't begin to thank you," Mitchell said slowly, leaning toward Emily and looking directly at her big blue-green eyes. "But there are times when I find myself thinking things that are really ... really ... really inappropriate."

"Inappropriate? Like what sort of inappropriate?"

"Like lustful thoughts," he answered, his eyes lifting to her for a moment before looking off in the direction of the pool. "Really, really lustful thoughts."

"You sound like an old-fashioned Bible-thumping preacher, Mitch," Emily replied with girlish giggle. "Like what kind of lust? Like you want to kiss me? Like you want to touch me? Like you want to fuck me?"

Mitchell looked back at her again and nodded.

"Oh, all of the above?" Emily chuckled sweetly. "I didn't know you had it in you, Mitch. I'm flattered, I really am." She leaned forward and reached for his hand. "You are so cute when you get this way. I've seen the way you look at me sometimes. A girl knows these sorts of things, and can sometimes have the same sort of feelings. I'm just surprised that you hadn't said anything before now. That tells me that you're a gentleman too. I like that."

"Through no fault of your own, you've made this living arrangement difficult. Most of the time I'm okay, but there are times when ... when ... when I wish I was twenty years younger."

"But if you were, then you wouldn't have had your wonderful kids or become the man you are, a very attractive man."

"Don't be playing with me."

"I'm not playing," Emily said softly. "I don't play with people."

"You have a boyfriend," Mitchell said. "Which is another reason why I won't do anything."




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 03



"Don't worry about doing or not doing anything around me, Mitch," Emily said. "Just relax and be yourself. You're an attractive, sexy man and if something is going to happen between us, don't be afraid. Just don't think too much about it, okay?"

For some reason, Mitchell felt as if some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. From what she said, Emily must have felt the attraction too and was similarly inclined. If something was going to happen, it was going to happen, and he shouldn't be spending all this time brooding over it.

"But I'm a thoughtful kind of guy. Let me think just a little bit, okay," he said with a relieved smile.

"Sure, but only a little," Emily said. "Now how about a midnight swim?"

Mitchell nodded and Emily rose up from her chair and stripped her tank top off over her head and tossed it onto the picnic table. Then she squealed and crossed her arms over her breasts, barely able to cover them.

"Oh, my God! I forgot I had taken my top off earlier."

Then she scampered down to the pool. Mitchell rose up and pulled off his sport shirt, then joined her at the edge of the pool. They dove together into the warm clear sparkling water and swam to the far side of the pool and back again.

"Beat you!" Emily said with a laugh when she touched the rim first.

"Only cause I let you," Mitchell protested.

"Race you again?"

"All right."

They counted together to three and pushed off. Emily was a strong swimmer and kept up with Mitchell stroke for stroke. At the turn she pushed ahead but with several deep strong strokes Mitchell pulled ahead of her and touched first.

"Ha! See! Who's the king of the pool?" Mitchell boasted loudly.

"That wasn't my best time," Emily said. "No wonder since I'm still not quite streamlined enough."

"What do you mean?"

Emily reached down under the water and in the aqua glow of the underwater lights, Mitchell could see her tug down her suit bottom and step out of it. Mitchell chuckled as she flipped it up onto the pool deck and crouched down as if to start again. 

"Ready? One, two ..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Mitchell said. "If you're gonna be streamlined so should I."

Emily gave him a sly little grin and watched carefully as Mitchell unknotted the tie on his swim trunks and pulled them down and off.

"I don't know if that's so wise, Mitch," she said, as he tossed his wet trunks up onto the deck beside her bikini bottoms. "I'm a little more streamlined down there than you are."

Emily ran her hand down under the water over her cleanly shaven pussy while her eyes dropped down to gaze at his hairy cock and balls, illuminated by the glow of the lights.

"Nice wood, old man," she said, and then prepared to push off.

Mitchell felt his cock twinge but recovered in time to join Emily in counting down to their little race. Again, Mitchell started out strong, but at the turn, Emily pushed out ahead and it took several long strong strokes for him to make it a close race to the end.

"I won!" they both exclaimed when they touched and jumped up to the surface.

"No way, old man!" Emily called out, shaking and wiping the water from her face.

"I was there first, no doubt," Mitchell said proudly.

"No, I was," Emily said with another shake of her head.

"It was me, honey, by at least half an arm's length," Mitchell proclaimed. He waded a step toward her. Her naked breasts were bobbing near the surface, but Mitchell concentrated on her blue-green eyes, sparkling so defiantly.

"I won, Mitch. Get over it. I mean, I had to because of my extra streamlining," she said, her hand gliding back between her legs again. Then she reached toward his body and brushed her palm lightly against his cock. "And especially with you having to lug along this big old thing. Ooo, you're not as hairy down there as I thought," she giggled as her fingers grazed lightly over his manly pride.

"So what do you think we should do to settle this? Another race?" Mitchell asked. Emily's hand hadn't left his body; her fingers were still caressing his cock and balls beneath the water. His hands instinctively went toward her waist, to pull her closer to him. When her breasts brushed up against his chest, Mitchell let his hands ease up from her waist to cup her full pliant mounds.

"I don't know if there's anything we can do, Mitch. It's just my word against yours," she said meekly, her fingers lightly stroking his growing erection while his hands cupped and caressed her breasts.

"You might be right," Mitchell said as his fingers circled her taut erect nipples. "Maybe we should take this inside."

"I think that might be the only way to settle this, Mitchell," Emily said, her upturned face very near his, the tips of their noses barely touching. Her hands slipped around Mitchell's waist and cupped the firm cheeks of his ass. "We should certainly do something."

They looked at each other and their heads both tilted to the right enough to bring their mouths close enough together for a kiss, a gentle wet brushing of their lips. Their eyes closed and their kiss grew warmer and their tongues darted out to tangle and play in the starlight.

"Let's go in," Mitchell said decisively.

They waded toward the stairs, climbed from the pool, and grabbed a couple of towels from the outdoor linen cabinet. They dried off outside and tucked the towels around their bodies. Once inside, they gravitated toward the couch in the family room. Emily reclined and Mitchell sat beside her. They kissed again and stroked each other's cheek tenderly. Mitchell wasn't thinking anymore, his heart was pounding with excitement; he was responding and following his instincts. Emily looked so adorable, her wet dark red hair curled in ringlets around her face, her eyes looking up at Mitchell with a soft dreamy gaze, the firmness of her breasts emerging from the confines of her towel.

"A glass of wine, Emily?"

She nodded and smiled and pulled him down for another kiss, one that lasted a minute or two and left them both panting and out of breath.

"Wine would be great," she said softly.

Mitchell got up and realized that his towel was riding low. When he went to re-wrap it around his hips, Emily reached for it and pulled it away from him.

"Hey!" he said turning around and reaching down to take it back from her.

"Come on, silly. You don't need this now, do you?" she said hugging it against her body.

Mitchell took a step toward her, then grunted and turned back toward the kitchen.

"By the way, nice buns, Mitch," she called out with a whistle as he strode into the kitchen.

Mitchell glanced back over his shoulder as saw her smile radiantly as she reclined on the pillows, her legs parted just enough to display a delicious slice of her sweet shaven sex.

He scrounged around for a couple of clean glasses, finally plucking a pair from the set in the china cabinet in the formal dining room. Then he looked for a favorite old Chardonnay that he had been saving for a special occasion. Finally he rummaged through the drawers to find a corkscrew. Of course the cork was a little old and brittle and began to crumble so he had to carefully carve it out of the bottle before he could pour a glass. He hurried to carry the glasses back into the family room only to find Emily, eyes closed and curled up on the couch.

Mitchell took a sip of wine before setting the glasses down on the table. Thinking that she might be playing a little game, he crouched beside her on the floor and leaned closer to her. When he kissed her lips, he expected some sort of response, but instead, she hummed softly and curled up tighter. Just my luck for her to fall asleep, he thought. He brushed the damp curls back from her forehead and caressed her soft cheek. She was out cold. All right, they had killed a few bottles of wine and she wasn't used to drinking it to begin with. My own fault! My own damned fault!

Gathering her up into his arms, he carried Emily up to her room and set her on the bed, making sure that she was in a comfortable position before pulling away the damp towels and bringing the sheet up over her naked body. He looked down at her longingly before turning and going off to check on Timothy and then on to his own room. His last waking thoughts were of the beautiful young girl sleeping angelically in her room just down the hall. The next morning, Emily slept late. She made it downstairs just as Mitchell and Timothy were leaving.

"Where you off to?" she asked.

"We're going off to Belle Isle to see the Aquarium before they close it down. Want to come along?"

"I'm supposed to go shopping with Katie and hang out with her today."

"Okay, have fun. See you later!"

"Mitch, about last night," Emily said hesitantly. "I guess I'd had too much to drink and wasn't very good company."

Mitchell brushed off her excuse. "Don't worry about it. You were terrific company. Besides, I was pretty far along too."

"Maybe we can try that again sometime," she said with a sexy promising grin.

"Yeah sometime."

* * *

The next few days were wonderful. Perhaps it was the result of opening up a little and becoming honest with each other, but there seemed to be a little more life and fun around the house as the summer wound down. Emily and Mitchell teased and kidded with each other a little more, innocently sometimes, other times with outright flirtation. 

Almost every evening Emily would sit with Mitchell out by the pool and watch the sun set over the cedars that lined the side of the yard. They might sip some great old Merlot or maybe a margarita or two and talk or even go for a swim if the spirit moved them. Mitchell patiently enjoyed Emily's company, her fresh outlook on life, and her sexy, youthful spirit. With both Kelly and Timothy set for overnighters with some friends on Saturday night, Mitchell started to think that maybe something might happen over the weekend.

The following Friday evening, Emily was surprised when Brian breezed into town unexpectedly. She quickly rushed around getting ready for their date. It was with more than just a trace of sadness that Mitchell watched as they pulled away from the curb in Brian's BMW. This is why I refuse to fall in love with her, he thought. This guy found her first. I'm just some other guy, a friend of hers, her employer, that's all.

When Emily didn't come home that night, Mitchell was a little concerned even though it wasn't the first time that she had stayed out all night after going out with Brian. Somehow, it just seemed to sting a little deeper and Mitchell suffered a little twinge of hurt for just a moment and then pushed it aside. 

Emily finally arrived home a little after noon on Saturday. Mitchell had been outside working in the garden. He looked up when Emily came outside to say hello, practically doing a happy little dance.

"So what's this all about?" he asked.

"Guess," Emily said.

"I'm terrible at guesses," Mitchell confessed. "You know that."

It was obvious that Emily wouldn't be able to keep whatever it was inside her anymore and she blurted out, "Brian asked me to marry him!"

"Really," Mitchell said, feeling his heart sink and his mind start to work overtime. Damn! Beaten to the punch! Why had he waited so long to talk to her? Even if he had, what would she have said anyway? Then he saw her radiant smile and the sparkling ring on her finger and he refused to feel sorry for himself. Despite the leaden sinking feeling inside Mitchell was happy for her and put on a happy face. "That's great news, Emmie! What brought this on?"

"I'm not sure. He just popped the question. I knew it. I just knew he was going to ask. Finally after all these years."

"You said yes?"

"Of course, silly! Why wouldn't I?" Emily held out her left hand, showing off the glittering diamond ring.

"That's beautiful! Congratulations, Emmie!"

They embraced and while he held her, Mitchell felt every bit of bottled up attraction for her rise up and melt away. It was certain that he would never have Emily for himself; he knew that now. She belonged to someone else and he couldn't-he wouldn't step in between.

Later that evening Mitchell poured a tall glass of old well-aged Scotch whisky and took it out onto the deck to sip while he gathered his thoughts. He was the perfect picture of ambiguity. He was happy for her and sad about his own feelings, feelings that had long been stifled and now that he was ready to bring them to the surface, had no place to go. Besides, did it really matter that he felt sorry for himself when she seemed so happy? I'll put this flirtation aside and move on, he told himself. I'll find someone, someone else.

Mitchell watched the sun set and how the gorgeous colors were painted across the wispy clouds of the evening sky; warm golden yellow and orange near the horizon, turning scarlet red and deep magenta higher in the sky, fading to indigo and deep purple overhead. This was the end of something he had thought he wanted, but tomorrow would be the beginning of something new. He downed the last of his Scotch, stood up fully, and walked toward the pool. He dove in and swam lap after lap until his pulse was racing and he was nearly out of breath.

He glanced up from the pool and saw that Emily's bedroom light was on. Probably chatting with her friends about the engagement. Later when he was out of the pool and dried off, Mitchell went upstairs to close down the windows in the kids' rooms and passed by the closed door of Emily's room. He could hear the faint sounds of moans and sighs mingling with the squeaks of her bed springs. For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of picturing Emily reclined on her bed, completely naked, her long legs spread, her fingers plunging into her hot wet sex. The image sent a shudder of arousal through him and took his breath away.

He shook it off and moved quickly down the hall to lower the windows in Timothy's and Kelly's rooms. When he passed by Emily's room again, he heard the bed squeaking sounds again. But this time he could also hear her voice. She was talking to someone ... on the phone perhaps? Then the realization struck him that she probably had Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome on the line for a little long distance nookie. 

Mitchell chuckled to himself and went to bed, but his mind quickly drifted down the hall, imagining how Emily was pleasing herself while talking dirty over the phone. That thought only forced him to pleasure himself and Mitchell came intensely and violently, calling out her name in the process. There was only a little trace of shame trickling through his body afterwards. This was one harmless final fantasy and once he was finished it would be put away forever. He was so glad that he hadn't fallen in love with her, so glad that he wasn't in love at all.

* * *

Emily and Brian planned for a late spring wedding the following year. It would take that long to make all the arrangements. Mitchell was amused at the whirlwind of activity stirring around Emily as she talked on the phone and with her family and friends. He was reminded of his own wedding and how Angela had done everything, well, almost everything except ordering the tuxedoes for his half of the wedding party and springing for the bar and the band at the reception.

Several times he offered help and each time Emily turned him down. At one point when he went off in a selfish huff, Emily hung up the phone and went to him.

"Mitch, please don't be mad at me," she said appealingly. "I really appreciate your offer but there isn't anything you can do to help. I'm sorry."

Mitchell hated feeling useless. He wanted to be involved somehow, someway. But then he came to the sad realization that this was not about him in any way. This was about Emily and Brian. Mitchell slunk up to his room for a while and sulked. But after a few minutes of feeling sorry for himself, he got over it and turned to a new page.

As summer turned to fall and school resumed, Emily lived up to every requirement of her job, looking after the kids, taking them to school and the doctor and dentist, Mitchell could see the inevitable change coming and planned for it. He contacted the agency to request another nanny. Emily left him no choice. At some point before the wedding he would need someone new, maybe this time he should try one of the Mary Poppins ladies.

* * *

A couple of weeks later Emily's parents hosted an engagement party for the friends and family of the wedding party. Mitchell was surprised to receive an invitation.

"You are my boss after all," Emily had remarked when Mitchell asked her about it. "I made sure my mom invited you."

Mitchell wasn't sure if he wanted to go, but Kelly convinced him to attend.

"Go and have a good time, Daddy," she said, practically pushing her father out the door. "You hardly ever get out and this will be good for you."

"Sure it isn't to get me out of the house so you and Timmy can throw a wild party and go crazy?"

"Of course not, Daddy," Kelly said with an innocent little smile. "We'll be just fine. Now go!"

Reluctantly Mitchell drove over to the restaurant where the affair was being catered. He almost didn't go in. He sat in his car for a moment and thought of how he wouldn't know anyone outside of Emily and how it would be so hard to see her snuggling up to Mr. Wonderful all night. But then he saw a little red convertible pull up and a skinny little blonde girl hop out and head toward the door. Is that who I think it is, he asked himself. He got out of his car and followed the girl inside. She was standing at the hostess stand when he got in. Wearing a short little red halter dress, the girl looked back at Mitchell as he came in the door.

"Hi ya, Mitch!" she said with a big smile. "Imagine seeing you here."

"Hello, Lizzie. Why wouldn't you see me here?" Mitchell responded.

"Well, knowing that you were kind of sweet on Emily, I figured you'd just blow this off," Lizzie said, her big blue eyes giving Mitchell a quick up and down look. "But it's really nice to see you."

"Thanks."

"How may I help you?" the hostess asked, stepping up to her stand.

"The Butler-Hall party," Lizzie said.

"Right this way," the hostess said with a smile, directing them down a long hallway. "First door on the left."

Mitchell escorted Lizzie toward the party.

"I'm not gonna know anyone," Mitchell muttered under his breath.

"Not for long with me around," Lizzie said, her blue eyes flashing at Mitchell. She took his hand and led him into the room.

Despite its pretentious name, The Empire Room was a modest but comfortable room about half filled with guests. At the far end Mitchell could see Emily and Brian standing together with what must be both sets of parents.

"Lizzie!" someone called out from the side of the room.

Lizzie squealed as a lanky brunette girl approached.

"Nicole!"

The girls embraced like old friends.

"How are you? You look great!" Nicole said.

"I'm really good. You are looking fabulous!" Lizzie replied.

"So who's this handsome guy?" Nicole asked.

"Nicole," Lizzie began, taking Mitchell's hand and pulling him into a little circle of friends. "This is Mitch, he's Emmie's boss."

"Well, well, well," Nicole remarked with a sexy grin. "Your taste in men has certainly improved!"

And so it went. For the next half-hour, before they could even make it to the bar to get something to bite off Mitchell's case of nerves, Lizzie introduced him to just about everyone at the party. There were a lot of friends from high school and college and relatives from both sides of the future family. Mitchell was largely amused by the way Lizzie held his hand and led him along as if he was her date. I'm sure that there is something going on about that, he thought and he smiled and shook a few hands and tried to remember at least a few names. When they finally made it to the bar, her ordered Jack Daniels on the rocks and Lizzie ordered something called Pink Panties.




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 03



"What is that?" Mitchell asked when the bartender produced a tall creamy drink that lived up to its name color-wise.

"For one thing it is really good," Lizzie said. "And for another, it's what I'm wearing-if you can call a g-string panties."

Mitchell had caught a glimpse of her tight little butt wiggling underneath the short hem of her dress and hearing what she was wearing sent a nasty twinge straight down between his legs.

"Well, hello," came a husky voice from behind Mitchell and he turned around to see Katie standing there, wearing a short tight black skirt and a sheer black top through which her skimpy black bra was visible. Mitchell swallowed hard at the sexy sight before him.

"Hello, Katie," Mitchell replied.

The tall statuesque dark haired girl leaned toward him and gave him a polite hug.

"Nice to see you again," Katie remarked. "So why is Lizzie the lucky one?"

"What do you mean?" Mitchell asked.

"I thought you and Lizzie, coming in together ..."

"Oh, no. We just happened to get here at the same time," Mitchell said.

"Oh. Nice planning," Katie said with a warm sexy grin.

Just then he felt a tug on his arm.

"Let's go say hello to the guests of honor," Lizzie said pulling him toward the head of the room.

Mitchell shrugged and waved apologetically toward Katie, who gave him a little finger wave before glaring at Lizzie. Then they walked up to where Emily and Brian and their parents stood.

"Oh, my god!" Emily cried out when she saw Lizzie.

The two best friends hugged and shared a few words before Emily saw Mitchell. Then she released her friend and embraced Mitchell.

"So good to see you here. Thanks so much for coming. It means a lot to me," she said as she hugged him tightly.

Then came the introductions. The older people were indeed their parents. Mitchell immediately could see where Emily got her good looks. Her father was a handsome man about his own age with a strong, protective handshake, and her mother was maybe a little younger, but had the same hair and coloring and the same trim athletic build as her daughter. In flattering light they might easily be confused as sisters. Brian's parents were nice friendly and happy people.

"So nice to meet you, Mr. Gallagher," Emily's mother said, shaking his hand politely. "Emily has had nothing but really great things to say about you. We're so glad you came to help us celebrate."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," Mitchell remarked.

"Make yourself comfortable. Enjoy. Thanks for coming," said her father.

With all of the pleasantries completed, Lizzie pulled him away.

"I need another drink," she said holding up her empty glass.

"Guess a girl can't have too many Pink Panties," Mitchell joked.

Lizzie laughed and looked at him as if trying to read his face. She grinned.

"You are so cute," Lizzie said. "No wonder Emily was nuts about you for a while."

"Thanks, but I'm not sure I understand," Mitchell said a little confused.

"You don't know about her little crush on you?"

"Um, no. What crush?"

"After she started to work for you. She said she had the biggest crush on you. Remember, we talked about this?"

"I remember talking with you, but nothing about a crush."

"Oh, too bad. She really, really liked you there for a while," Lizzie said. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I figured that since you never did anything about it and with this engagement thing, that it doesn't really matter."

"No it doesn't matter," Mitchell said. "Not now."

Lizzie was not one to let a conversation lapse while there was a party going on. They refreshed their drinks and circulated. After Emily's parents took a few minutes to thank everyone publicly, a disc jockey began to play and the little patch of dance floor was quickly filled with friends and relatives of the betrothed. Lizzie tugged at Mitchell's sleeve.

"Dance with me," she requested.

Who was Mitchell to say no when a skinny little blonde girl in a short tight little red halter dress was asking him to dance? They fought their way onto the small spread of faux parquet flooring and writhed and wriggled to some new music that was unknown to Mitchell. From the approving look on Lizzie's face, he felt confident that he was keeping up well enough in his own understated fashion, even though the dance moves were a little wilder than he was used to.

Lizzie held her arms up above her shoulders and rocked her hips suggestively as she bumped and ground to the heavy Latin beat. He found the rhythmic jiggle of her pert little breasts underneath her dress hypnotic. Mitchell struggled to keep his eyes focused on hers, but found himself savoring the sight of her trim little curves at every opportunity. 

Then she turned and backed toward him, grinding the firm tight curves of her ass against his crotch. The split of her ass easily found his semi-erect cock and rubbed against him. He couldn't doubt the salacious twinkle in her big blue eyes when she looked back over her shoulder at him and winked. 

When the person behind him, bumped into Mitchell with a sharp hip, he reached out to grab Lizzie to catch his balance, grabbing her hips. This only made her grind more firmly against him. When he removed his hands, she reached down and grabbed them and put them right back where they had been. It was growing hot on the little crowded dance floor and Mitchell could see a soft sheen of perspiration rise on Lizzie's clear honey hued skin.

"Need a drink," he said with a parched throat when the music segued into something harder.

"I know," Lizzie said, and they moved off toward the bar where it was cooler.

With another drink in his hand, Mitchell glanced over at the dance floor and saw Emily dancing with Brian. He had to admit that they did look good together, a tall girl with dark red hair and a trim but curvy body, and a tall handsome young guy with dark hair and a goatee and a set of clear blue eyes. Emily looked so happy, dancing with him; it made Mitchell happy just to see her like this. With a light hand, Lizzie spun him away from the dance floor and captured his attention with her big blue eyes.

"So, my name is Lizzie, short for Elizabeth Marie, I'm twenty-five, I teach third grade at Amerman Elementary, I was born and raised in Marshall, graduated from MSU 98th out of a class of fourteen hundred, I'm looking to travel and experience everything that life has to offer. I like to sleep in the nude, I wear only g-string panties, preferably pink, and I've been told that I give terrific head. I'm five-three, weight one-oh-five and my measurements are thirty-four B, twenty-two, thirty four."

She said it all with such a straight face that Mitchell found himself laughing out loud. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Well, I heard a rumor that you need to know everything about a girl before you'll have sex with her. So I thought I'd save you some time."

"Did Katie tell you that?"

"Katie tells me everything. We were college roommates. We have no secrets."

"So what other exaggerations did she tell you?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure that these are exaggerations, but you're kind and sensitive, you're a great kisser, and you have a really great dick."

"Oh? And did she also tell you that she came onto me but that nothing happened between us?"

"Yeah, she mentioned something about that," Lizzie said. "But then, that was when you had your eye on Emily."

"I didn't, not really, not at that point, not now," Mitchell protested.

"Uh-huh. That's what you say, but we could tell what was on your mind."

"So, let me guess. Now that Emily's out of the way, so to speak, I'm fair game?"

"Katie also told me that you were smart ... and she was right," Lizzie said.

Maybe it was the Jack Daniels, maybe it was the loud music and the crazy dancing, maybe it was the fact that Emily was in the room dancing with her handsome guy, but Mitchell was finding himself gravitating toward this nimble little blonde girl beside him. Her glittering blue eyes and trim sexy body were bedazzling.

A couple more drinks and another turn or two on the dance floor, and Mitchell was beginning to believe that there truly was life after death. He found it hard to accept that this beguiling young woman, smart, pretty, and ambitious, had found him attractive. He wasn't pretty boy handsome, he didn't drive a Ferrari or dine at The Tens every night. He wasn't fabulously wealthy or even knew the combination to a vault full of gold. Yet the way Lizzie drew him near made Mitchell think that he had sold himself short, that what he wanted may have been far less than that of which what he was capable.

In the heat and humidity of the dance floor, with an inescapable beat pounding through the room, Mitchell found himself arm in arm with Lizzie, her trim young hips pressing against him, her arms looped around his shoulders and neck, her big blue eyes pinned to his. They moved at their own beat, something less frenetic than that pouring through the speakers. The movement of the rest of the crowd and the pulsing beat didn't matter to them. Lizzie and Mitchell were dancing to their own kind of music, the kind that passes ever so rarely through two pairs of eyes.

In a surreal moment, it seemed that the lush red silk of her dress and the dapper cotton blend of his trousers and shirt had disappeared. Katie danced nearby, her big dark eyes casting an envious glance at them. Emily was circulating somewhere, someplace, dancing with friends, savoring her night, the first of many to come. But the electricity of the moment had brought Lizzie and Mitchell together and nothing or no one could separate them.

Lizzie finally leaned up and pressed her body against Mitchell. Her mouth found a soft patch of skin just below his ear. She kissed him, the warm wet playful attention of her tongue tickling his sensitive flesh.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" she whispered into his ear. "I need some fresh air."

"Yeah. Me too."

This time, Mitchell took her hand and led her from the dance floor. Maybe a few people noticed. Katie certainly did, but most others didn't. Mitchell led Lizzie through the room and out through a door wall onto a small veranda. For some occasions it might be used for overflow, but tonight it was empty. Some excess chairs and tables were stacked up close to the building. Mitchell walked toward the far railing, Lizzie's firm warm little body pressed up close behind him.

His thoughts were whirling about when he turned and leaned onto the railing and pulled Lizzie toward him. With a sharp laugh she fell into his embrace and laid her trim young body against him. Mitchell encircled her with his arms and she melted against him.

"Mmm, Mitch," she hummed.

"Are you protesting?" he asked, allowing himself the luxury of letting his hands glide down over her back until they cupped the firm tight cheeks of her ass.

"Not ... at ... all," she said slowly, her sprightly voice growing deep and husky. Lizzie was propping herself against him, her arms keeping her body just an inch away from his, while her hands gathered around his face, her fingertips dancing lightly over his cheeks and chin. 

It wasn't obvious to either of them who leaned up or bent down to the other. All that mattered was that their lips came together and they shared a soft sweet kiss that quickly gained strength and passion, a kiss that drew out their tongues, extracted deep sighs and heavy moans from both of them, and left them both nearly breathless.

"Oh, my fucking god!" Lizzie breathed lightly. "Katie was wrong! You are the best kisser!"

"Maybe it depends on whom I'm kissing," Mitchell said with a devilish grin.

Lizzie cradled his face between her hands, brought her warm wet lips to his and consumed his mouth with a greedy, lust filled kiss that left them both equally breathless. Mitchell was aware that they were caressing each other's body, his hands sneaking up underneath the skirt of her little red dress to hold and explore the hard trim curves of her tight little butt, while her hands caressed his face, raked down over his chest, and reached for the growing lump inside his trousers. When his fingers flirted with the dainty elastic of her panties, Lizzie stepped back for a moment and pulled them down her trim legs. She tucked them into his shirt pocket like a hanky.

"Wow. Those are pink," he said with a grin, eyeing the vivid hot pink color.

"And, like I said, they are a g-string," Lizzie added with a mischievous sexy grin.

"God love it," Mitchell groaned with pleasure. 

Then he reached down underneath her dress and cupped her sweet little butt, pulling her firmly against him. He felt her sexy trim little body press every possible square inch against him. Lizzie lifted her leg and pressed her sex against the growing erection inside his trousers while their mouths ground together in a resounding kiss of extreme pleasure.

"So what's going on out here?" came a voice from the door. It was Emily. "I wondered what happened to you guys."

"Um, we're just out here, checking out the stars," Mitchell said as Lizzie reposed herself against the railing. They both looked up at that sky, their eyes glancing from horizon to horizon.

"Well, seeing that it's pretty cloudy tonight, that's pretty ... um, admirable of you. Now come on inside, some people want to take pictures."

Lizzie and Mitchell exchanged a look of mixed emotions. He looked at her as though he was ready to take her right there on the deck and she looked at him as though she wanted him to do so. Then they grinned and nodded and followed Emily inside. For Christ sakes, it is her night after all, he thought.

They posed for pictures, Lizzie much more than Mitchell. There was the "friends from college" picture, the "friends from high school" picture, and the "friends from whatever" picture. Mitchell was surprised when Emily waved him up for a picture of just the two of them. He lost track of Lizzie as Emily slung her arm around his waist and pulled tight for the sake of the picture. Before they parted, Emily pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks for coming tonight, Mitch. You don't know how much it means to me for you to be here."

"You're welcome, Emily. Anything for you."

"Thanks, Mitch, for everything," Emily said sweetly. She patted him on the chest near his shirt pocket and felt the wadded up panties. She grinned when she peered down inside the pocket. "I knew there was something going on out there, you bad boy! Now go. Lizzie must be waiting for you."

Mitchell grinned. He leaned over to kiss Emily on the cheek. Another picture. Then their hands slipped apart and it was time for a slew of pictures with Brian's friends. Mitchell stepped away and yielded the dais to the laughing gaggle of guys who crowded up with Brian and Emily. He sighed and turned away, moving toward the bar. He didn't see Lizzie anywhere near, so he ordered a Jack Daniels and waited.

When Lizzie reappeared, she walked right up to him, patted his shirt pocket that still contained her pink panties, and pulled him by the hand toward the door.

"Drink up, Mister. We have some unfinished business," she said in a low soft and very sexy voice.

"Think so?"

"I know so."

They ended up in the passenger seat of her little red sports car. The moon roof was folded back, her dress was undone and fell down to her waist, and his trousers were open and lowered below his knees. Mitchell had drawn each of her tiny taut nipples into his mouth; Lizzie had stroked and sucked his cock to complete erection; Mitchell had licked and suckled and fingered her tiny little shaven pussy to dripping perfection. 

Lizzie straddled him now, her eager moist sex waiting for him to penetrate her. The head of his cock was pressed against the warm split of her tight pussy. Lizzie held his cock upright while she swung her hips about in a teasing tight circle. 

"Mmm, I'm kind of small down there," she hummed softly into Mitchell's ear.

"I know, baby," he replied, feeling the head of his cock spread the small delicate folds of her sex apart. Everything about her pussy was small, the smoothly shaven outer folds, the tender sensitive pink inner labia, the dripping wet opening. Even her clit was just a tiny little nub that made her body quiver and shake each time he brushed against it.

"I want this soo much, Mitch!" Lizzie moaned. "Oh, fuck me, Mitch! Fuck me hard!"

With a strong thrust of his hips, Mitchell pushed the head up into her. Lizzie rested her hands on his shoulders, gripping him tightly and began to gently lower herself down, sheathing each thick inch of his cock with her hot wet little pussy. Her heavy lidded big blue eyes were locked on his.

"This feels soo good," Lizzie cooed. "Oh, Mitch!"

"Oh, Emily! I've been waiting for this so long," Mitchell said upon feeling her light body grind against him. He rotated his hips in a circle savoring the sensation of her tight young body gripping his rock hard manhood.

"What?" Lizzie said, raising herself up and away from his slick thick cock that was begging painfully for her return. "What did you just say?"

Mitchell looked around confused and desperate, trying to recall his words as his tall hard cock waggled back and forth seeking the warm wet spot it had just entered.

"Um, that I've been waiting for this a long time?" he said tentatively.

"No. You called me Emily," she said, the aura of arousal all but gone from her voice.

"What? No, I didn't," Mitchell protested. He replayed his mental loop of the last few minutes in his head. He hadn't confused them, had he?

"Yes, you did. A girl always knows when the guy calls her by another girl's name."

"But ... I didn't ... I don't think ... I didn't mean-"

"Mitch, I know," Lizzie said, still straddling his hips and sitting on his lap, her slick shaven pussy resting upon his fading erection. "You're a good guy, you wouldn't deliberately do anything to hurt my feelings. But I know what's going on here. I know that you still have a thing for Emily."

"Lizzie, I never had a 'thing' for Emily. I'll admit that I was sort of sweet on her at one point, but I'm all over that."

"Are you?"

"She's getting married to someone else. I have to be."

"Uh-huh, sweetie," Lizzie said. Then she gave him a soft sweet tender kiss.

Their heated passion of just a minute before had instantly dissipated and they simply sat together for a few minutes longer. Finally they rearranged their clothes and extracted themselves from her little red sports car. Mitchell reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out Lizzie's pink panties.

"I guess you can have these back," he said sheepishly.

Lizzie took them in her hand and glanced at him. Then she fished a pen out of her purse and wrote something on them and handed them back. It was her phone number.

"When you're finally over Emily and really ready for someone else, give me a call okay?"

"Um, okay."

"Now let's go in and rejoin the party, huh?"

They walked arm-in-arm back into the restaurant. Lizzie looked nearly as glowing and radiant as a woman who had actually been fucked silly. Mitchell wondered if it was all for show or simply an expression of her personality. He also wondered if he was really over losing out on Emily. Lizzie was a sweet and sexy girl, one that he felt a definite attraction to, but was it just her youth and sexuality that attracted him, or did his subconscious somehow know that there was nothing of substance beyond her superficial desirable appeal? For certain Emily was unobtainable now; he had to learn to live with it. Mitchell took a deep breath. Oh, fuck it all! Where's the god-damned bourbon, he thought.

To be concluded ... 



The Trouble With Emily Ch. 04



Emily's birthday came along a few weeks after the engagement party. On the night before while everyone else was asleep, Mitchell stayed up late to decorate the house with a banner and balloons. Knowing that Emily was the first one up in the morning, he propped up a couple of very conspicuous presents and a card for her to discover.

Before dashing off to work and school, Mitchell and the kids wished and sang her a happy birthday, and Emily showed off her patented glowing happy smile and there were even a few happy tears. She opened her presents eagerly in front of the kids, a beautiful white satin robe and slippers that Kelly had picked out for her, a couple of music CDs courtesy of Timothy, and the latest novel from her favorite author from Mitchell. Emily exclaimed that they were the best birthday presents ever. Then she hugged Mitchell again, a nice warm friendly hug that lingered. She had rested her head on his shoulder and clung to him so tightly that they nearly melded together.

"Thank you," she had said. "Thank you so much. You guys are really like a second family to me."

He could feel the warmth and wetness of her tears melt though the stiff linen of his shirt. But they both quickly recovered. She had a ton of things to do and the kids had to get off to school. But as they broke away, Emily looked at him unlike she had ever looked at him before. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time and he felt embarrassed and looked away and excused himself to finish getting ready for work.

When Mitchell arrived home from work a little earlier than usual, Emily was upstairs getting ready to go out with Brian. He could hear her humming happily in that silly off-tune voice of hers behind the closed door of her bedroom. He went to change, but she apparently heard him in the hallway and her door swung open.

"Mitch? I need an opinion," Emily stated, her voice rife with indecision. "A guy's opinion."

"Oh?" he sighed uneasily, looking around and realizing that obviously he was the only guy within a hundred yards of the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat. "You want my opinion?"

"You're a guy. So, yeah, you'll do."

"So, um ... what's up?"

"Which looks best? This? Or this?"

Emily stood at the door of her bedroom, dressed only in a black satin thong, thigh high stockings, and heels. She held up a little black dress against her body, actually little more than a slip, made from a light silky fabric with a pair of tiny spaghetti straps and a back that swooped dangerously low. In her other hand, still on the hangers, she held a bow necked white knit top and a plaid pleated skirt that would ride low on her hips and end far above her knees. In the available moment, Mitchell imagined her in both outfits. His mouth watered. His pulse raced. His palms sweated. She would look fantastic in either; classically elegant in the former, fabulously hip in the latter, and incredibly sexy in either. But this moment demanded a judgment call and he dispensed with all logic and went with his gut feeling.

"You'd look great in both outfits, Emmie, but to be honest, for this occasion-and he is taking you to the Fox and Hounds tonight, right-I'd go with the little black dress."

"He is taking me to the Fox and Hounds, but are you sure?" With that she raised up the skirted outfit and lowered the little black dress somehow exposing as little of her gorgeous body as possible although there was plenty available from which his thirsty eyes could drink.

"Well, what are we trying to say here?" Mitchell asked. "A hot and sexy, take me, right here and right now, or a coolly elegant, spend your money, take your chances but it will be more than worth it in the end?"

"Hmm," Emily hummed. She turned and looked at her reflection in the tall mirror beside her dresser, holding up one outfit then the other. As she did so, he was afforded delicious side views of the lush lean curves of her breasts and hips. Then she held up the little silk black dress. "I think I'll go with elegance."

"Good choice, mademoiselle."

She laughed girlishly and sexily and Mitchell had to fight off those familiar lush warm feelings of enchantment. He was over her, wasn't he? There was certainly nothing wrong in finding her attractive, after all she was a pretty and sexy girl and most any guy would have been attracted to her. But she belonged to someone else and he wouldn't let her innocent beauty play games with his feelings. 

Later when Brian had arrived and she waltzed down the stairs, he had to admit that his breath was taken away. She looked like a fantasy come true, her face aglow in an eternal grin, the dress clinging to her every curve, her young firm breasts surging up from the black silk and jiggling ever so enticingly, and her legs in the sheer black stockings, long and shapely, kicking down each step. He looked at Brian and noted the casual blasé smile and wondered if this guy truly realized what he had in Emily. He hoped so for her sake.

Then they were off. He remembered standing at the doorway waving, watching as they slipped into Brian's car and motored away in his infernal foreign machine. He thought of being that young again, of having his entire adult life yet to unfold before him. He remembered how he had been that age himself with everything to live for and without a single care in the world. Oh, those were the days! His life had changed with kids and a career and a house to care for now, but he wasn't sad because he had had his good times and now it was time for hers.

It was shortly before midnight when Emily came home, much earlier than Mitchell expected. He had anticipated that she might not be back till morning. Mitch was sitting in the family room reading, but had heard Brian's German iron pull up, music blaring loudly. The engine hadn't stopped running when the car door opened and shut forcefully and the car sped off.

The front door opened with a rush and Emily ran up the stairs to her room. Puzzled, Mitchell waited a few minutes expecting her to come down and say hello, but she didn't. He knocked back the last of his bourbon and went upstairs. He ended up standing outside her bedroom upstairs hearing the faint sounds of Emily sobbing.

"Emmie? Are you okay?"

There was no immediate answer so he rapped lightly on her door.

"Emily? You all right?"

"No! Go away," she cried out, her voice thick and heavy with tears.

"What's wrong, Emily? Emily? Are you okay?"

She didn't answer but her sobs grew softer.

"All right, but if you want to talk, I'll be downstairs for a while."

Mitchell went back downstairs, his mind racing over the possibilities. Of all that his fanciful mind could conjure, there was one that emerged, big and ugly. It must be something with Brian and their engagement.

It was a while later when Mitchell heard footsteps on the stairway. He looked up to see Emily descending slowly, her new white satin robe snugged tightly around her waist. She went straight to the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet.

"What's that stuff that you drink all the time that tastes like medicine?" she sniffled.

"Bourbon."

"Yeah, that's it," she said, looking for and pulling out the half gallon of Jim Beam and filling a glass. 

Emily took a sip then a long healthy drink. By this time, Mitchell was up and moving toward her. She glanced over at him, her eyes were reddened and damp with tears. What little makeup she had been wearing was smeared. Mitchell moved up beside her and put his arm around her waist. She leaned toward him and laid her head heavily against her shoulder.

"What happened, honey?"

Emily turned toward him and fell into his paternal embrace. She began to sob again and Mitchell simply held her and let her cry, her warm tears streaming down and wetting his shirt.

"Brian ... he's ... he's ... I'm ... oh, fuck, Mitch ... I don't know where to start."

Emily crushed her face into his chest and Mitchell held her tenderly as the tears continued to roll.

"You don't have to say a thing, Emmie," Mitchell said softly as his hand brushed the back of her head, through her silky chestnut red curls. Her arms had looped around him, clinging to him with an urgent desperation. He ran his hands tenderly up and down her back feeling the warmth of her body underneath the satin robe and nothing else.

It could have been a half hour before either of them moved. Emily sniffed and lifted her head from Mitchell's chest and looked up at him with her tear-stained eyes that were a fragile gray, not the sparkling blue-green that he was used to seeing.

Emily backed away and lifted her bourbon for another drink. She grabbed for a tissue and began to daub at her eyes. Silently she stepped down into the family room and slumped into the middle of the couch. Mitchell sat on the end beside her.

"Are you all right, Emmie?" he asked, reaching out to caress her cheek. His thumb moved over her soft plush skin, wiping at the traces of her tears.

"I'm all messed up, Mitch," she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I don't know what to do, or where to start." 

She looked at him again, her eyes filled as much with pain as with tears. Emily took his hand and pressed it to one cheek then the other. Then she kissed it.

"You don't have to say a thing, Emmie," Mitchell said.

"I ... I'd better spill it out ... I have to tell someone," she said tearfully.

"Take your time. We have all night," Mitchell remarked.

It took her a while to gain her composure, but Emily eventually took a deep breath and began to speak. As her words unfolded, it seemed that the tears began to dry up.

"Brian took me to the Fox and Hounds-that place is so beautiful. My birthday, a romantic, elegant restaurant, my guy-my fiancé. Everything was so beautiful. Then before we order dessert he tells me that he has something to say, something that had been bothering him for a while, something that I should know before we get married ..."

Emily's voice trembled and then trailed off for a moment. She daubed at her eyes again. She took another healthy swig of bourbon.

"God, this stuff is nasty," she said with a shiver.

"But it's good medicine," Mitchell replied.

"And I really need some good medicine," she said. Her back straightened up. "Brian looks at me with that silly grin of his and says that he has a confession to make, that he's not really bi after all, that he's really gay." Emily looked directly at Mitchell's eyes. "After all these years, he's finally discovered his true nature, that he's out and out gay."

"Whoa! That's a helluva way to wish your girlfriend happy birthday! So what about the wedding?"

"He proposed that we go through with it, sort of like a business proposition, and why not, since we have made all the arrangements."

"But what about after the wedding?"

"Brian says that we can go ahead like we've always planned, find a nice place together, settle into married life, throw dinner parties, travel, everything we've talked about ... except that he wants to be free to spend time with his boyfriends and go off and find some dicks to suck when he feels like it."

"Jesus! Get married so you can date someone else. What about you?"

"Oh, he said that I could go out with someone else, and if I ever found someone that I would rather be with then we could divorce."

"Unbelieveable! So he wants you and everything that comes with you, but he wants to be free to do whatever else he wants. Jesus! I feel so sorry for you. What about kids and all? You've talked about wanting to have children."

"That's negotiable."

"So you had no idea he was gay?"

"I thought he was bi. I didn't mind if he went with guys once in a while. But getting married meant giving that up and he didn't want to."

"What about diseases? What about AIDS? What about you? Gee, it sounds pretty god-damned selfish of him." The more he thought about it, the madder Mitchell became. "Didn't you have any idea that he was gay? You've known him for a long time."

"Guess I didn't want to believe it. He was the first guy I was ever with. We broke up a few times and I'd date other guys but would always seem to end up back with him."

"I find it hard to believe you didn't suspect something."

"Okay, maybe he did really like blow jobs a little more than most guys, and maybe in some way I suspected something, but I'm a very trusting person. I loved being with him. On holidays when my family would be over at our house to celebrate and things got pretty boring, we'd go up to my room and have sex. I never really thought about it ... until now."

"I'm sorry that you have to go through this, Emmie. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. I got myself into this. I'll figure something out."

"So what about the wedding?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about that yet. And oh, shit! I've got to go over to my folks tomorrow. What'll I do?"

"You're not thinking of going through with it, are you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Who knows, maybe it could work out." The look on Emily's face grew sad. 

"Maybe."

"It's just that I feel so betrayed," Emily said struggling to fight off a tear. "All these years he told me how much he loved me. And now, tonight, he says that he really didn't mean it. I don't know what to do, Mitch."

Mitchell reached out to her and encircled her with his arms and she fell heavily against him.

"It'll be all right, Emmie. You'll figure something out don't worry. To blue skies and brighter tomorrows."

He hoisted his glass and she held hers up and they clinked them together and drank the last of their bourbon. Then Emily set her glass down on the coffee table and looked at him appealingly.

"Hold me, Mitch," she requested in a soft weak voice just a breath away from a sob. "Hold me and don't let me go."

Mitchell wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head against his chest. As she leaned toward him, he lay back against the cushions at the end of the couch and she lay on top of him. She sobbed once again and then her tears stopped. Mitchell bent down to kiss the top of her head, drawing in her natural scent and that of her perfume.

They ended up falling asleep together on the couch. When Mitchell awoke in the middle of the night, they had shifted slightly on the couch. His legs were stretched out across the seat cushions and Emily was curled up on top of him. As they had shifted in their sleep, her robe had fallen open and he felt the lush curve of her bare breast press into his palm, its taut nipple rubbing against his hand.

When he lifted his head, Mitchell could see that she was sound asleep. His thumb and fingers moved gently against the soft skin of her firm breast. Emily sighed and shifted position, thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand. He knew that his body wanted the taste of hers, but this moment was so thoroughly inappropriate. He held her gently and tried to purge his prurient thoughts. 

Mitchell slowly retrieved his hand from her breast and the ensuing draft stirred Emily. She lifted her head sleepily and immediately noticed her dishabille. She straddled his hips and pushed up to sit atop him while she fixed her robe. Emily looked down at him and smiled.

"Guess we fell asleep," she said in a near whisper as she drew the white satin over the full swell of her breasts and cinched up the belt. "Sorry, 'bout that, Mitch. Didn't intend to give you a little show."

"S'okay. I was sleeping anyway."

"Uh-huh."

Emily bent down and kissed him on the cheek, then climbed up from the couch.

"It's late. We should both go to bed," Emily said and Mitchell nodded in sleepy agreement. They walked up the stairs together and paused at the top. "Thanks for being there for me, Mitch. You're a good man."

Mitchell smiled and watched as Emily padded down the hall to her room. Then he turned around and went to his own room. It didn't take long for him to fall sound asleep.

* * *

The next several days were obviously difficult for Emily. After leaving to spend the remainder of the weekend with her family and friends, she returned Sunday evening and seemed to throw herself into her work and studies. No detail around the house was overlooked. After dinner one evening, Mitchell saw her standing at the sink washing dishes. At first he didn't give it a second thought, but then he noticed her shoulders quiver sharply and her head bend forward. She sniffled when he approached.

"You okay, Emmie?" he asked.

"I'm good," she answered, raising up her head proudly. "I'm all right."

Mitchell stood behind her. He could tell that everything was not all right and wanted to do something. He eased up closely behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, deliberately trying to touch her in a comforting, friendly and non-sexual way. As he held her gently, he felt Emily lean back against him, her head sort of leaning up beside his, her arms folded over on top of his around her waist, and her back and butt pressing firmly against his body. Mitchell could tell that her body was wound up so tightly that she was trembling.

It may have been a minute, it may have been ten that they remained like this, but Mitchell didn't want to let her go. Soon enough the trembling stopped, but the tightness in her body remained. Mitchell slowly eased his hands from under hers and drew them around to her back. As he moved them up along her back, Emily leaned forward and rested her hands on the edge of the sink. Mitchell worked his hands up over her taut stiff flesh to her shoulders. Emily tilted her head forward as his hands began to move in soft gentle but insistent circles.

"Gees, there's a big knot right here," Mitchell said, circling his fingers around the base of her neck.

"Oh, god, that feels so good, Mitch, please don't stop," Emily pleaded, arching her back and pushing against his hands, surrendering to the pressure of his palms and fingers.

Mitchell didn't stop until he felt every muscle of her back relax. He ran his hands over her back, massaging and caressing her warm supple body through the soft fabric of her top. A few times, Emily moaned, but otherwise they were silent as he plied her flesh from waist to shoulders and back again. When he was satisfied that her tenseness was relieved and his job was finished, Mitchell embraced her from behind, his arms wound safely around her waist, his face nestled beside hers, their bodies pressed together snuggly and warmly.

"This feels really nice, Mitch," Emily whispered. "I'm not sure that I could make it through this time without someone like you."

"Thanks, Emmie," Mitchell replied. "Just let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"I will, Mitch. I will," she said, turning to face him. "Maybe it takes someone who knows pain and loss to really understand. I mean that I know what I'm going through is no where near what you did when your wife died, but just knowing that you're around and that you care means so much to me."

"I'm glad to help, Emmie," Mitchell remarked. "Everyone's life is so different and unique, but I know that I couldn't have gotten through without the help of some very good friends."

"Any of them as good at massages as you are?"

"Well," Mitchell remarked chuckling. "My buddies aren't exactly the type to give out massages, if you know what I mean."

"Then I'm very lucky that I have you," Emily replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly.

Emily turned back to the sink to finish washing the dishes while Mitchell poured a glass of wine and headed toward the door leading out to the deck. As he stepped through into the cool late summer air, her could hear Emily humming an off-key tune and felt as if things were returning to normal.

* * *

A few days later, Mitchell was in his home office sorting through the pile of snapshots from the past year. He had managed to arrange them chronologically and was in the process of fitting them into a photo album. He was amazed at how the kids had grown, how much older and mature Kelly seemed to be despite her seventeen years, how tall and rangy Timothy was becoming.




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 04



Then there were the pictures where Emily began to appear, in her massacred cheerleader outfit for Halloween, in her tank and PJ pants lounging near the Christmas tree, in an elegant light blue dress before going out with Brian. In little more than a year, she had become such a dear part of their family, and there no longer seemed to be a huge empty gap in their home.

Mitchell slipped the heavy album back onto the shelf and gazed at the other older volumes. Impulsively he pulled down one from two years before. There was Kelly in braces and Timothy in his Cub Scout uniform. There was Mitchell and Angela, arm-in-arm in front of a wishing well while on vacation. Even though they had been having problems, they were both smiling broadly. He had always thought that there would be time to patch things up between them, to get back to the way things had been when they were first together, the fun little trips, the dinner parties with friends, the terrific sex. But then she found out the bad news and there was no time for anything other than doctors and clinics and hospital stays. He grinned sadly. There are no Mulligan's in life, he thought. No second chances, just the pain and guilt.

"Whatcha doing?" Emily asked cheerfully as she poked her head in the doorway. She was flushed and rosy from her workout and edged into the room, setting her purse and gym bag down by the door.

"Oh, just going through some old pictures," Mitchell said, flipping over a couple of pages.

"Is that Angela?" she asked as she sidled up beside where Mitchell sat in the high-backed chair.

"Yeah," Mitchell nodded. "This was at her parent's 50th wedding anniversary."

"She's pretty."

"Yeah, she was," Mitchell replied, feeling his voice tremble. "I thought she was the love of my lifetime. Maybe that's what's wrong with me, maybe that was my one and only chance at happiness and I blew it."

"What do you mean, blew it?" Emily asked. "It wasn't your fault that she got ill."

"I know, but that's not what I mean," Mitchell said. He looked up as Emily sat on the edge of the desk right beside him, looking intently at the open photo album. "Things hadn't been going real well for a while between us, things were said and done, things that we never had time to make up for."

"That's all right, Mitch," Emily said, her voice soft and comforting. She put her arm around his shoulders.

"She passed so quickly, I never had the chance to tell her that I was sorry. I never had the chance to make it up to her."

"There's a lot of things we never have time for, aren't there, Mitch?" Emily said softly. "That's why there's always a new tomorrow to try and make things better. That's why you have to live for the future and not dwell in the past."

"You're starting to sound like Stuart," Mitchell chuckled painfully.

"Maybe that's because we both care about you and want to see you happy."

"Do you? Do you want to see me happy?"

"Of course, Mitch. I just love you and your kids to pieces and want the very best for all of you. You know that."

"I guess I do, but it's comforting to hear you say it."

"Anything I can do for you, honey. You've been such a help for me lately, it's the least I can do."

Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his hair, surrounding him with a warm hug. Mitchell patted her arm and sighed deeply.

"I can move on, I've done that I think," Mitchell admitted. "It's just that I'm not sure that I can forgive myself for treating her so badly."

"Didn't you see to it that she went to the doctor, and cared for her when she needed you most, and visited her every chance you could?"

"Yes, I had to, I wanted to."

"Didn't you see to it that her every last need was met, and ever since haven't you honored her by being the best dad you can to your kids?"

"Of course."

"Then I don't think you have to beat yourself over the head with some lingering feelings of guilt," Emily said, lifting her head up and turning his face up toward her. "You did everything you could with the opportunities you had. I think you've been amazing."

"Thanks, Emmie," Mitchell replied, patting his hand on top of hers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

Emily nodded and hugged him again. "A wise man told me once that there is always a tomorrow, isn't there?" she said.

Mitchell stretched out and looped his arms up and around her in an awkward but well-intentioned hug. She leaned toward him and giggled when she slipped off the desk and plopped onto his lap.

"Oh, my," Mitchell said, feeling the warm firm curves of her ass press into his lap.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" Emily remarked.

"Yes. Cozy. Very," Mitchell replied. They leaned toward each other, their foreheads touching lightly. "Thank you for being such a sweetheart, Emmie. I don't know what I would have done this past year without you."

"And thank you for taking me into your home and making this so much more than just a job," Emily said.

"Better than your last family?" Mitchell asked.

"Oh, much better," Emily replied. "They were nice and all, but I never really felt as safe and as well-loved as I have here with you guys."

There was a warmth and intimacy to the moment, something that seemed to pull them closer together.

"Dad! Dad!" Timothy called out as he rushed into the office. He pulled up short and stared when he saw Emily sitting on his father's lap. Mitchell jumped at the innocent intrusion and Emily tried to get up from his lap.

"What is it?" Mitchell said excitedly as Emily slipped off his lap and he stood up.

"Kelly won't get off the computer and she isn't doing homework."

"What do you need it for?"

"I hafta find some revolutionary war pictures for my Social Studies project," Timothy explained. "She's been on it all night chatting with her friends and won't get off."

"That's all right, sweetie," Emily said. "You can use my computer if you want."

"Cool," Timothy responded.

"Just don't let her get any cooties on you," Mitchell warned.

"Dad! There are no such things as cooties," Timothy insisted before storming off up the stairs.

"Your little boy is growing up so fast," Emily said to Mitchell as she followed Timothy upstairs.

Mitchell smiled and filed away the old photo albums. As he paused and glanced out the window, he felt an unfamiliar sense of relief. Somehow just talking with Emily had helped him immensely. All of his convoluted emotions felt like they were straightened out. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that he had given his all. Sure, he had made mistakes and fate had taken away the possibility of making up for his errors. But every day since he had tried to do all he could for his kids. Now maybe he was truly ready to do something for himself.

When he went upstairs to check on Timothy's progress, Mitchell got a chuckle out of seeing his boy sitting with Emily at her computer, laughing and joking as they surfed together for the pictures he needed. Emily looked up and smiled, a twinkling blue-green eye winking at him. When he lay down to sleep that night, Mitchell felt completely relaxed, tired from the day, but loose and light and settled. He had this king-sized bed and a lot of love and passion to share. Would the girl of his dreams be ready to step out of his reverie now that he was ready to accept her?

* * *

"Anybody home?" Mitchell called out as he closed the front door behind him. It was a Friday evening and he was late getting home from work.

"Just me," Emily sang out from upstairs.

Mitchell set down his briefcase and keys and climbed the stairs.

"What are the kids up to?" he asked. 

"Timothy is over at Duncan's house and Kelly is spending the night at Eileen's," Emily replied from inside her room. She was sitting at her desk writing.

"When's Timmy due home?"

"Don't you remember, he's spending the night so they can get an early start on their Boy Scout outing at the Science Center tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's right," Mitchell remarked, remembering. "So when are you heading out tonight?"

"I'm not," Emily said. "I'm thinking of spending a quiet evening at home."

"Really? You look like you're dressed up to go out."

"This old outfit?" she asked, looking herself over. A bulky white knit sweater and a short gray plaid skirt was topped off with a pair of tall black boots. "I guess. Maybe."

"I think you look cute," he said, looking her over. 

"Thank you," she said sounding appreciative but otherwise unimpressed.

"Tell you what, Emmie, if you aren't doing anything tonight, do you feel like grabbing a bite to eat someplace? I'm starved."

"I am kind of hungry. Sure, why not?"

"Let me wash up real quick and I'll meet you downstairs."

Mitchell was the one who ended up waiting downstairs. Emily came to the head of the stairs and then glided down slowly. Mitchell looked up at her and smiled. She hadn't changed her clothes, maybe touched up her hair and makeup, but she looked terrific.

"You look gorgeous, Emmie," he said.

Emily didn't respond immediately but her grin spoke of her pleasure for receiving his compliment.

"So where do you want to go?" she asked. "I'm kind of poor."

"How about Shiro? I'll pay."

"I haven't been there yet. I've heard they have a yummy sushi bar."

"Anything you want tonight."

Mitchell helped Emily into her black leather jacket, slipped on his own and they headed out to dine. The restaurant was near by, housed in an older Greek Revival styled mansion built many years ago by a wealthy industrialist. They left Mitchell's SUV with the valet and entered the serene and slightly funky foyer. The soft lighting, pale walls, fine linens and cozy fireplaces lent an air of comfort and quiet. They were met by a tall, beautiful Asian hostess, and were shown past the array of Asian artwork and rich wood paneling up the grand center stairway. Their intimate table was set near an inviting field stone fireplace that flickered warmly.

"This feels strange not having the kids around," Mitchell remarked as they settled in. "But it's nice, don't you think?"

Emily nodded.

"So is this a date?" she asked, her blue-green eyes sparkling.

"A date?" Mitchell said, a little confused for the moment. "Hardly. At least I don't think so. You're still my nanny so it really can't be a date."

Emily looked disappointed.

"Let's just say that we're a couple of friends celebrating ... um, let's see ... how about a great start to your final year of Master's studies."

Her look of disappointment didn't diminish.

"I was kind of hoping for the date angle," she remarked.

"Why? Would you like to date someone like me?"

"Not someone like you, Mitch," she said, her eyes rich with feeling as she gazed over at him. "I think you'd make a great date."

Their lovely Asian waitress approached them quietly and respectfully interrupted them, introducing herself with a formal little bow. Mitchell ordered some sake for them and they looked over the menu, which was an interesting blend of Japanese and French cuisine.

"So what's good here?" she asked.

"Everything," Mitchell replied. "I'm not that big on sushi so I can't judge that, but everything else I've tried is great."

They settled on the wasabi shumai and the foie gras with raspberry demi-glace and fresh berries for appetizers. Emily ordered one of the house special plates of sushi and Mitchell settled on the panko shrimp and crab cakes. They made a certain agreement to share.

"So have you heard from Brian?" Mitchell asked. Emily looked down and away sadly for a moment. Then her expression brightened and she looked back up at him.

"He's doing terrific as always," she said. "He's that way you know. Nothing ever bothers him."

"Then how are you doing about all that?"

"I'm okay. I've gotten through it and I'm not looking back."

"I'm glad to hear that. I only wish that there was something more that I could do."

"What more could you do, Mitch? You were so terrific. You were supportive and yet gave me my own space. I don't know what I would have done without you and the rest of my friends and family."

Mitchell looked at her closely. She was smiling and looking bright and optimistic. There was a lingering trace of regret in her eyes, but just a trace. Otherwise she was upbeat and fresh and lively.

"You know. If there is ever anything that I can do for you, anything, all you have to do is ask."

"I know," she responded. "And I am so glad that you are that way."

Their waitress brought the wasabi shumai and the foie gras, refreshed their sake and they began to eat.

"This is sooo good!" Emily exclaimed as she sampled the wasabi. 

Mitchell fell in love with the look on her face, so expressive, so intense, so animated, so on the edge. He grabbed his own fork and was forced to admit that the flavor was terrific. Emily sampled the foie gras and looked across at him intently.

"Can I ask you something?" she said in a soft voice.

"Sure. Anything."

"Tell me about your wife," Emily said.

Other than a few nights ago looking at the photo albums, they had never really talked about Angela. Emily had never asked, Mitchell had never spoken. But the subject had always been sitting there between them.

"At one point, for a long time actually, I thought that our love was going to last forever," Mitchell began. "She was beautiful and smart and everything a man could ask for in a woman."

"Why do I get the feeling that there is a 'but' in there someplace?"

"I thought I had the world by the balls. I had everything, a great house, a terrific job, the woman of my dreams."

"So what happened?"

"I'm not sure exactly. The kids came along and suddenly the whole world changed. I was ready for them. We had married fairly late in life, you know. But I was mature and was ready for the midnight feedings and poopy diapers and all of that parenthood stuff. But somehow, someway, she changed. Angela went from being this sweet sexy woman of my dreams to some sort of perverted nightmare. I loved her so much that I kept trying to make it work, I took her crap and bitchiness hoping that someday she would realize the way I felt about her, but she seemed to push me away at every step of the path."

"That's sad."

"I mean, it got so that she didn't like the way I kissed her, the way I touched her. Hell, she even criticized me for the way I took off my pants. It was like I suddenly woke up sleeping beside a stranger. She wanted me to change virtually everything about myself but I had to accept her the way she was. There was no sweet and sexy girl anymore, just this insufferable bitch."

"So what happened?"

"For a long time, nothing. Then she came home one day from her doctor's visit, all in tears. There was something suspicious and she needed to go back for more tests. I went with her and stood beside her all the way. Cancer. Modern man's nightmare. She was riddled with it. I knew from her family history that she was susceptible, but I had no idea. I was totally unprepared. So was she. As I look back on it, it's all a blur. Before I knew it, she was gone, and I've never forgiven myself for all the terrible things I said to her and the even worse things that I thought about her. Those I kept to myself."

Emily reached across the table to him.

"How long has it been?" she asked letting her warm hand settle on his.

"Two years."

"Don't you think it's time that you did something about it?"

"Like what?"

"Mitchell, you need to find yourself another sweet and sexy girl. You have a lot to offer her. I can see it in your intensity, your deep feelings, and your sense of what's right. I think you need to look to the future, you know. When your kids are grown and moved out you'll need someone or something to keep you occupied."

"You're right. That's what Stuart is always saying. But it's so hard. So fucking hard. Without the right one, the right woman ..."

"Maybe you need to look someplace new, find someone new."

"I know. I've looked around. But it's hard for me. I'm not like most guys. I don't just jump the first set of bones that comes along."

"I know, and that's part of your charm."

"But look at me and my situation, I'm close to fifty, still with two kids to support. The young women I meet are way too young and aren't ready for the family scene, and the older ones are pretty much done raising their kids and want some freedom. Besides they seem too ... too ... too old and set in their ways. I still have some growing to do. Maybe that sounds weird, but I haven't found a happy medium."

"Maybe you're placing too much emphasis on your age. It's really the least important thing after looks for making a solid relationship."

"You're probably right."

"I know I'm right, Mitch."

"In the last few months I've come to realize that I've still got so much to offer. I know that I have this great capacity to love someone, someone special. Every day I can feel that love and passion in my heart and soul. Guess the next girl who comes into my life will enjoy the benefits."

"I'm jealous."

"What do you mean?"

"I wish I was that girl."

Out of nowhere, their waitress quietly appeared and cleared away their finished appetizers. She seemed so apologetic to be interrupting them, but their mood had shifted direction and a moment later their waitress returned with their superbly presented entrees. 

"You should try this," Emily said, offering up a forkful of sushi.

"But it's raw fish and who knows what else," Mitchell protested.

"Trust me. It's really good. Maybe you'll like it."

"And maybe I'll get really sick or have some sort of hideous allergic reaction."

Mitchell knew that his protest was futile. He accepted the forkful and, after finding it delicious, asked for a second. Emily presented him with another and he nibbled it off her fork.

"This is really nice," Mitchell remarked looking around at the dining room.

"It is. I just love the food," Emily replied.

"Well, yeah, that too," Mitchell said. "But I meant this, you and me." He waved his fork back and forth between them. "This is really nice."

"It is. You're a really fun companion, Mitch."

"Thanks."

"You know, this may sound weird but I've been noticing the old lady over there, kind of over your shoulder-don't look just yet. But she's been giving us the eye ever since we sat down."

"Hmm, oh really," Mitchell remarked, trying to resist the desire to look at the old lady. "And what do you think that's all about?"

"I think she disapproves."

"Of what?"

"You here with me."

"Too bad for her."

"Of course, we could always give her something to really disapprove."

"Huh?"

Emily set down her fork and leaned forward over the intimate little table. Mitchell cast a quick look over his shoulder at the little old lady who was sitting with some little old man and giving them a nasty look. Was it the difference in their ages or were the biddy's undies in a bunch for some other reason? When Mitchell turned back toward Emily, her face was nearly right before him and he leaned forward the last inch to kiss her.

The melding of their lips together sent violins ringing through the air. The kiss may have started to be all about show but its effect on the participants was considerably different. Mitchell couldn't believe how soft and sweet and moist were Emily's lips, tasting of sake and sushi. The moment had come so quickly, the impulse so sudden, that he hadn't taken the time to realize just what was happening. But once their lips touched, his mind began whirling and he leaned forward into the kiss, burning the memory deep into his mind.

"Well," Emily said as they parted and picked up their forks again. "How do you like your crab cakes?"

"Um, they're ... uh, great," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "Moist, tender, very tasty. Want a bite?"




The Trouble With Emily Ch. 04



Emily nodded and he scooped up a generous forkful and offered it across the table to her. Emily gave him a wry smile and then took the tasty morsel off his fork with a flourish that was all pink tongue, white teeth, full red lips, and soaked in sex. The look in her eyes and the way she nibbled at the crab cake was definitely getting to him, raising his level of arousal several notches. She must know what I'm thinking, she has to, he thought. 

They worked their way through their entrees, sharing nibbles and bites and enjoying the delicious food and the wide-ranging conversation. By the time he finished his last bite, Mitchell felt entirely relaxed. The sake and Emily's great smile had a lot to do with it. She was a wonderful companion, not shallow or superficial, but thoughtful and full of humor. And her memorable kiss, so impromptu and tantalizing, was giving Mitchell ideas, nice ideas.

When their waitress returned to clear away their empty dinner plates she asked if they would be interested in dessert. Emily and Mitchell exchanged a contemplative look.

"Would you like dessert back at the house?" Mitchell asked.

"Only if you can whip up something like that chocolate swirl cheesecake," Emily said, pointing to the example on the dessert tray the waitress had carried over.

"You've got me on that one," Mitchell said and they decided to stay and split a lovely slice of the confection.

When they finally left the restaurant, a cool breeze was stirring and quickly tousled Emily's hair. The valet was prompt and helped her duck inside Mitchell's SUV. She flipped down the sun visor and combed her chestnut red locks back into place with her fingers.

"Oh, that wind! I look a mess!" she remarked with disgust.

"I don't think so," Mitchell replied, gazing over at her, as he steered the car toward the street. "I think you look beautiful."

Emily reached over and patted his cheek.

"And I think that you're a sweet man."

Within minutes they were back home.

"I don't know what could make this evening any better," Emily said as they stood in the warmth of the foyer and Mitchell helped her out of her jacket.

"I do," Mitchell replied. "How about brandy in the family room?"

When Emily agreed, he went to the liquor cabinet while Emily made her way to the family room. Mitchell poured and carried the brandy into the family room and rejoined Emily. 

"It's been a while since it's been just the two of us at home."

"Yeah, and a lot has happened since then," Emily remarked as she took the snifter Mitchell offered her. "But here we are again." She glanced over at him and took a sip from her glass. "Thanks for tonight, Mitch."

"Don't mention it."

"And thanks for being such a gentleman."

"You're so sweet. How could I be any other way around you?"

Mitchell gazed at her, feeling his smile spread across his face.

"You know, Mitch, I just love it when you look at me like that."

"Like what."

"Like you did just now. Sometimes I just melt when I see that look in your eyes."

"What look?"

"That look of deep desire."

"You're playing with me, aren't you."

"I think you're playing with yourself, Mitchell. I've seen that look before. The first time was a while after I started working for you. You looked at me like I was the most beautiful, most precious thing in the world. And you're always so cute about it, because you never say a word, you just look into my eyes and I can sense the way you feel about me."

"Oh? And what do you sense about my feelings right now?" Mitchell looked into her blue-green eyes. With her hair still tousled from the walk inside and a glowing blush in her cheeks, Emily looked thoroughly enchanting.

"You're making me think that you're in love with me."

"Love?"

"Uh-huh. Love. L-O-V-E, Mitch."

"Not that I'm admitting that I am," Mitchell said evasively. "But let's say if I were, what would you think about it?"

"Not that I'm saying you are, but if you were, I would want you to know that I feel the same way."

Their mutual desire to avoid a confession of deep feelings came as amusing to both of them. They grinned and chuckled. Then Mitchell turned a bit serious.

"Really? You mean that you could fall in love with a worn-out old fart like me?"

"Mitch, you're not worn-out, you're not all that old, and you're much too polite to fart in my presence."

Mitchell grinned, took a sip of the brandy and cradled the glass in both hands. As he looked at her again, Mitchell sensed all of the feelings that he had ever had for her were starting to flow back inside him again, the feelings that he was once sure he had buried and were lost forever.

"So, are you saying you're in love with me?" he asked.

"Are you in love with me?" she countered.

"I ... I think I am," he said slowly. "I believe I am ... maybe I always have been."

"Good ... that's very good to know, because I'm in love with you."

They were sitting very close, their shoulders brushing together, their hips bumping, their breath mingling. They leaned toward one another, their noses touching and their lips brushing lightly. They set their glasses on the coffee table and eased their arms around one another.

"If this is going to work," Mitchell said, combing his fingers through her silky red locks. "I don't want to fall in love with your youth, or your fresh beauty, or your sexuality, just you."

"I know."

"I don't know how long it will last but it has to be all or nothing."

"Yes, Mitch."

"People are going to say some pretty nasty things, and it won't always be easy, but we can't doubt each other."

"Mitch," Emily said. "Please be quiet and kiss me again."

He did. Mitchell took her into his arms and kissed her, their lips melting together from the warmth. When their lips were reluctant to part, they snuck shallow little breaths, the heat of their breathing washing over each other's cheeks. Mitchell found the taste of her mouth deliciously exciting. Their tongues touched and danced an oral tango that ebbed and flowed from her mouth to his and back again. When they finally parted, Mitchell cradled her face with both hands.

"I've dreamed about sharing a romantic kiss with you for a long time," he said. "I just knew it would be something special."

"It helps when you're a good kisser," Emily replied and leaned toward him again.

Their lips touched again, this time with more strength and passion. Mitchell's hands trailed down from her face, drifted lightly past her neck, and glided over the soft knit fabric of her sweater, exploring the swell of her breasts. He could feel the trace outline of her bra and the firm mounds of flesh underneath. As he drew his thumbs over her nipples, he felt them grow taut and erect, and a shiver sweep through her body.

When Mitchell raised her sweater up, he gasped at the sight of her breasts cradled in a sheer little white lace bra. The cups barely covered her nipples and concealed nothing of the heaven that lay underneath. The perfect natural curves of her breasts aroused him tremendously. Emily lifted her sweater up and pulled it off over her head. Mitchell looked deep into her blue-green eyes as his trembling fingers reached out to her, dancing lightly over her sleek tender skin, flirting with the lace edging of her bra.

Emily arched her back and thrust her spectacular breasts toward his hands. When Mitchell's touch remained light and soft, she grabbed his hands and drew them tightly against her yearning sensitive flesh. Mitchell moved toward her, bringing his lips to her lips, to her neck, to her shoulders, to the cleft between her breasts. 

He eased the delicate straps of her bra down off her shoulders then pulled the fragile lacy cups away, revealing her gorgeous rosy pink nipples. Mitchell pressed his lips against her silky smooth skin, sampling the tasty sweetness. He drew the tip of his tongue over her creamy skin until it neared a taut erect nipple. Drawing a lazy circle around her nipple, Mitchell teased her with his warm breath, and his parted lips flirted with the puckered aureole. When he closed his lips around the rosy tip and sucked it into his mouth, Emily moaned and threaded her fingers behind his head through his hair to pull him toward her.

Emily sank back onto the plush cushions of the couch. She freed her arms from her bra and pulled it fully down and away from her breasts. Mitchell cupped them with both hands, gently squeezing them and directing the tips toward his mouth. No part of her breasts escaped his lavish attention. He spent precious minutes, kissing and licking her tender sweet breasts, sucking and nibbling on her taut erect nipples until Emily squirmed and wriggled from the intense sensations. She rested her hands on his head, guiding him from breast to breast, arching her back to push them into his hungry mouth.

Mitchell could see the flush of arousal spill down from her face to her neck and chest. Every kiss and lick and nibble brought a sweet squeal from her until finally Emily pulled his head up to kiss him with a fierce passion he had never experienced. Their kiss was long and deep and wet and penetrated him completely. He felt all of his pent-up passions churning up inside him. 

Mitchell looked down at her and caressed her with his eyes and fingertips. Then he rose up from the couch while Emily lay back reclining with her arms up over her head, her back arched seductively, one leg up on the couch while the other lay off to the side. Her little gray plaid skirt was folded up to her hips. Her mons was barely covered by a dainty triangle of sheer white lace. Her eyes, her breasts, the angle of her limbs, every part of her sent a thrill of arousal through him. 

He reached for her leg that rested up on the couch and began to remove her tall black leather boot. When he had slipped it off and set it aside, he took her foot in his hands and kissed it. Her foot was warm and damp but he didn't care. He kissed her toes and massaged the bottom of her foot. His lips moved slowly up over her ankle and leg, stealing toward her knee, kissing every inch of her shapely calve. When he neared her knee, Mitchell let go of her leg and reached for the other. He removed her other boot and began the same slow trip up her upraised leg. With her skirt fallen up past her hips, he could see that the white lace of her panties was pulled tightly against her sex, revealing the sweet moist cleft.

This time he didn't stop when he reached her knee; Mitchell kept going, kissing and caressing the soft tender skin that he found along her firm trim thigh. By the time he reached her upper thigh, he was kneeling on the couch, his face descending into the warm soft vee of her parted thighs. The scent of her arousal was sweet and pungent. When his lips fell just millimeters from her pussy, Emily grasped his head and guided him to the eager mound of her sex.

He kissed her through the thin lace of her panties, his tongue and lips able to taste her through the sheer damp fabric. He nuzzled his face against her, humming as he ran his tongue over the panty-covered slit and raked his teeth over the hooded cleft at the top. Emily gasped loudly and dug her fingernails into his scalp.

With a husky growl, Mitchell pulled the damp lace of her panties to the side and drew his tongue over the freshly shaven folds of her pussy. Emily let her thighs fall apart, spreading open the sweet pink petals of her most intimate parts. He pressed down against her and let his tongue dance roughly over the split of her center, probing the moist entrance, tasting the tender sensitive ridges and then finding the hard little nub that lay above.

With both hands he gently spread her apart, licking and sucking every part of her sweet little pussy. Her hips moved in a slow needy circle as he laved her with a loving tongue. When he probed at the entrance to her warm center with his fingers, she gasped. When he sucked her clit deep into his mouth while turning and twisting his fingers up inside her, Emily cried out with pleasure. She dug her heels into the couch and lifted her hips up, forcefully pressing her pussy against him.

Mitchell was intent on pleasing her. He wanted to give her so much. Emily had done so much for his family over the past year. But the moment was so far beyond that. She had become a friend, a confidant, a trusted member of the family, and as each moment now transpired, she was becoming his lover, the intimate part that had been missing most of all from his life.

"Emily," he said, lifting his head up from between her thighs. The hungry look of arousal in her eyes spoke volumes about what he hoped that she felt for him. Mitchell wanted to bring her to a place that she had never known, a space of peace and joy and satisfaction that any of us only know once or twice in a lifetime. "I want ... I want to make love to you ... without condition ... without exception ... without-"

Emily placed her forefinger on his lips to quiet him.

"Mitchell, I've wanted you for so long. I've sat up in my room so many nights, dreaming of this, hoping that someday you would come to me, proclaim your love and make love to me just like this. Right now, I'm yours. Take me. Have me any way you choose."

Mitchell leaned back. He looked down at Emily who lie back on the couch, bare to the waist, her skirt pushed up to her waist, her panties pulled to the side, her legs spread, her tender sex parted just for him. He felt such great desire for her. Every cell and sinew of his being flowed toward her in a palpable exchange of energy. Mitchell grinned and kneeled down earnestly between her legs. Emily lay back upon the couch as Mitchell reached for her white lace panties. He tugged them slowly down from her hips, along her long shapely legs, and when they were free of her feet, he tossed them aside with a quick sniff and a sexy grin.

Running his hands back up along her legs, Mitchell gradually kneeled between her legs, kissing her thighs and calves as he brought his warm moist lips closer and closer to her sex. Emily arched her back and lifted her hips up from the couch to offer herself to him willingly. Cupping the cheeks of her ass with both hands, Mitchell raised her glistening sweet pink pussy up to his waiting lips and tongue. He kissed her, he suckled her; his tongue slipped shyly out to taste her drenched pussy. He savored her taste and every shiver that sifted through her body as he explored her luscious folds. Soft little moans escaped her lips as she lay back and let him pleasure her.

All in turn, no part of her greedy little sex went unattended, the smooth sleek and shaven outer folds, the sensitive pink inner ridges, the sodden tight opening, and the hard eager little nub. Mitchell started gently and slowly worked his way up the ladder of arousal until Emily was thrashing about on the couch, her hips circling his mouth wildly, grinding herself against him urgently. Her legs were draped over his shoulders, his face was buried deeply between her thighs, and his tongue and lips and fingers plied her with energy and desire and brought her to the precipice of an extreme climax. Her hands seemed to be pushing him away and pulling him toward her at the same time. Her voice called out to him huskily in a series of cries and sighs.

"Oh, oh, oh, Mitchell!" Emily moaned. "Oh, oh, oh, fuck! Ah! Ah! Oh! Ooo!"

Mitchell never felt more alive and attuned to her gratification. He loved dealing her pleasure, listening for and sensing her response to his every move. What didn't bring an appropriate moan or sigh, he left behind and tried something new. What she liked, he did more and differently. And in Emily's ascendant arousal he felt his own, strong and urgent and intense, and it only caused him to plunge his face down even more wildly between her legs, licking and sucking and probing her with a fierce energy.

Then Mitchell felt it. As he ferociously pressed his face between her legs, Mitchell felt Emily begin to cum. Her thighs clamped tightly to his cheeks, her heels dug into his back, and her fingers wove into his hair as her body began to quiver and shake. Mitchell lapped madly at her drenched pussy, growling viciously and relentlessly. Finally he felt her grow limp and fall back onto the couch. He let his passionate attack recede as well, easing back into gentle licks and soft kisses on her dripping quim.

"Oh, Mitchell!" she cried out, reaching for his ears and pulling him up from between her legs.

Mitchell kissed and licked her trembling, heaving body as she drew him up over it, suckling each delightfully erect nipple before accepting her welcoming kiss on his lips. She purred with satisfaction as their tongues wrestled again splendidly. Their eyes locked together as their hands sifted through each other's hair. Although no words were exchanged, Mitchell could read the compliments welling up in her eyes. He was surprised as she pushed at him, gathering herself together and sitting up on the edge of the couch as he stood up before her.

Emily looked up at him with a tremendous sexy grin. Her hands swept up over his trousers and quickly found his belt. With a deft move, she had undone his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Her hands glided slowly up over his thighs and silken boxers until they located the long hardening tool that lurked underneath. Emily's sparkling blue-green eyes never left his as she stroked him through his silken shorts. 

Mitchell tried not to wince or flinch or show signs of arousal, but he couldn't control his response-and he really didn't want to. Emily snaked a hand up the leg of his boxers and ran her fingertips over his full balls and his thickening cock. When she leaned forward and began to kiss and nibble him through the dark blue silk, Mitchell growled harshly.

"Oh, Jesus, Emmie!"

"What's that, Mitch?" she asked with an impish grin. "Can dish it out but can't take it?"

"Oh, I can take it all right," he said, as she dove down again to kiss his silk covered cock. "It's ... it's just been a long, long time since I've felt this way ... or done this."

"Then, I'll take it easy on you, old man," she teased, lightening her grip on him.

"Oh, what the fuck!" he grunted, and then gripped her head and pulled her toward him forcefully.

Emily let out a deep, sexy giggle and reached for the waistband of his shorts. With a firm tug, she pulled them down over his hips and let his erect cock pop out. With both hands she scooped up his balls and cock and guided his long rosy manhood toward her pursed lips.

"Mmm," she purred with a throaty voice. "You have a beautiful cock, Mitch. I just love it!"

Mitchell shuddered to feel her tongue lick him up and down on both sides of his cock and then the top and bottom. Then she dragged her lips all around his rigid shaft before rubbing him all over her cheeks and nose and chin, purring so sexily as she went. As he looked down at her manhandling his member, he had never felt so aroused, so completely turned on. When she began to circle the tip with her wet pink tongue, around and around, he thought his knees would buckle and he had to reach out to her head and hold on. 

Emily eased her lips onto the head and began to suck him into her mouth. With just the head inside her hot wet mouth, she sucked him and stroked the rest of his shaft with one hand while the other cradled and fondled his balls. With excruciating grace, Emily began to move her head back and forth, with each pass sucking more of him into her mouth, while her tongue was swirling and circling his throbbing manhood eagerly. Mitchell struggled to tell her how he felt, but each word seemed to bring a more heightened response from her.

"Oh, god, that feels so good!" he growled. "I love ... the way ... you suck me! It's been so long ... feels so good!"

Emily hummed as she sucked Mitchell's long, hard cock deep into her mouth. When the head met the back of her throat, she pushed and sucked on him until she was able to take every inch of him inside and buried her nose into the soft trimmed mesh of his pubic hair. Up and down her head bobbed, her hands covering every inch of his shaft that her mouth and lips didn't.