10 comments/ 102584 views/ 5 favorites Marathon Girl By: Zedsded Of the many, and profound changes my wife's gone though in her life, one thing remained constant: when she gets high, watch out. She's never been what I'd call a pothead, but on occasion, she'll unwind with a joint, or bowl, or whatever, and that's almost invariably brings out the freak in her. Examples? Well, in college – before I met her – she once did a few bong hits and then let four men use her for, she says, hours on end. That's the story she told me, anyway ... sometimes the number of men varies from four to six ... sometimes I think she made a good chunk of it up just to get me crazy before sex. That said, I've been around her plenty when she was stoned and, again, she's a completely different animal ... it just gets her totally loose. Not that she's very uptight in the first place ... but she once was much more restrained, sexually. When I first met her, she was a senior in college. I was a TA in the Math Department. She wasn't what I typically went after – tall, thin-lipped, red hair that tended toward orange when she'd been out in the sun too long, fair skin with a hint of freckles, and a lean mass of muscle. Not an ounce of fat on her. And me a tit man. She was there on a track scholarship, and was a respectable athlete ... receiving mentions come All-American time once or twice, and even getting a nice write-up in her local paper. Throughout that time, I can remember her almost constantly running, her legs muscled and smooth, her ass high and defined, her abs rock-hard and glistening when she ran with her midriff exposed, hair back in a ponytail and her already-tiny breasts tightly confined within a sports bra. Truly a sight to behold. I rooted for her in the stands that last year ... although I drew the line at her efforts to get me out on the track. Some things a math geek simply can't do: long-distance running is one of them. Our courtship was a long series of laughs. The sex life was truly amazing, if relatively free of kink. We married three years later. By then, I was a professor. She was a triathlete. A really good one. And, with the occasional dalliance here and there, we let nine years blow past. Her life – our lives, really – changed for good when she blew out her knee during the last mile of a triathlon in Texas. It was a near-total devastation, tears of the MCL, ACL and PCL. The doctor assured her she'd walk and even jog again ... but her career as a nationally-ranked triathlete, as a runner, was over. She was 33 years old. That's when things got weird. At first, I attributed the change in her mood to some form of depression. She was laid up in bed or on the couch, after all, and for the first time since I'd known her forced to remain still. If it were a form of depression, it was most assuredly one I could learn to enjoy. Her sex drive – always a tad above average – increased exponentially. She wanted sex almost daily, every time I returned from class or dropped in during a meal break, she'd pull her robe open, roll over on her back and present me with those splendidly taught thighs, spread wide. Even the bandages on her knee didn't stop me from indulging almost every time the offer was made. Then I would come home and catch her masturbating ... certainly not a first in our relationship but nearly every single time I came home, she'd have her fingers on her chest, her belly, her cunt, rubbing one out to whatever was on the TV screen. (Softcore porn on Cinemax was a favorite, but I even caught her diddling herself to a video on VH1.) She laughed off my concerns. "If you were around more, maybe I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures." Then she'd force me to take off my pants and ... well ... more sex. I was loving life, but my work was suffering. I was way behind in my grading, a project I was collaborating on was stuck in neutral (my partner not at all too understanding) and, frankly, I wasn't a kid anymore. I was sore ... both in muscles and in skin rubbed raw. I figured it would all end, anyway, as soon as she was ambulatory again. She'd go back to work, maybe swim a few laps when she was able, and I'd have my same old Bonnie back. (With, maybe, "new Bonnie" visiting on the weekends and on extended vacations.) But when she was finally allowed to use crutches ... and then, later, when she graduated to a cane, her appetites even increased. The Cinemax shows were recorded on tape now, without me even in on it. This culminated in the day I went to pop a DVD into the player and found a most hardcore compilation porno already in the slot. It wasn't one of mine. I'd never even heard of the people in it. "Oh, I stopped by the video store on Wednesday," she explained, blushing a little. When I didn't say anything, she giggled and leaned in close, "Well, what was I supposed to do? You were at that stupid conference thing Wednesday night!" She kissed me, then hobbled off to meet some friends from work for drinks. "You should watch scene eight. Awesome orgy ... it'll get you ready for when I get home." The orgy scene was, indeed, awesome. Turns out she has a great eye for porn ... which is saying something because in my entire life with her, she only watched porns I'd picked out and brought home. Hell, I'd even felt guilty a time or two for making her sacrifice like that. And now, I thought idly – watching a volumptuous Latina jerk on a cock in each hand while she sucked off a third – drinking a beer and waiting for my suddenly nympho wife to come home, she was stopping by porn shops? Something was seriously ... well, not wrong ... but different. I liked it, but it scared the hell out of me. So yes, by the time she made it home – drunk and horny to the point that she pulled off her top even before the front door closed behind her (her pal's headlights still illuminating the darkness behind her) I was plenty ready to fuck her ... despite the pile of grading still awaiting me and my partner's angry emails seething on the server. She made me cum once, then she teased me mercilessly (I have a "thing" for her playing with herself) until I was hard again. By the time I'd squeezed out another orgasm (she'd had several), I nearly collapsed on the bed next to her ... the sheets damp with sweat. "I think I'm getting a lot more flexibility back," she noted, straightening her knee out experimentally. I spent about ten seconds wondering if I were feeling the initial signs of a heart attack, then chilled out for a few moments. She, meanwhile, stood up and gathered our clothes, dropping them into the hamper and then jumping back into bed next to me. I was going to chastise her to watch her knee, but she was grinning and it just felt like a nice moment. Then I said it. "I think you're killing me," I said, still somewhat breathless. "Y'know, if you want to get another guy on the side to take the edge off this, I'd totally understand." She laughed, then, and kissed me on the cheek. I laughed a little, too, then passed the fuck out until the alarm went off, early the next morning. The second I got home that Friday, I knew I was in trouble. A good kind of trouble, but ... still ... The house reeked of pot smoke. And music was playing. REM. Old stuff. I found her in the living room, dancing ... dirty dancing, frankly. In fact, the moves were rough approximations of what you'd see on a stage with a pole on it. I ahemed. Her eyes opened into those wonderful, slightly-pink, oh-god-I'm-so-stoned slits, and she saw me and smiled. Seductively, she danced over to me ... wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me ... her mouth hot and moist against my lips. I hmmmed. She broke off, then, and went back to dancing ... less Flashdancy now, though, more like herself. "Did you have a good day?" "Yes and no. Barry's pissed at me." "How come?" "I'm a little ... eh, never mind. Just kiss me." "In a second." She was lighting another joint. "Want some?" "You know they're randomly testing these days. I shouldn't even be in the room with you." "Testing college professors for drugs. That's just bullshit, man," she said, laughing even as she pulled in smoke. "I will have some wine, though." Lips sealed tight, she gestured to the glasses. I filled it with a red. Bonnie's the wine queen. I just drink what she opens. "Oh, man, this feels good," she said ... perhaps to no one in particular. I could only laugh. Then I sat on the couch, drinking my wine. About five minutes passed while she smoked. I drank. We listened to Michael Snipe and said nothing. Then she appeared next to me, her lithe body wrapping around me like a tailored suit. One of the benefits of a long marriage is familiarity like this. She kissed me again. I could taste the pot on her, but didn't mind too much. Then she hugged me again and laid her head on my thigh. "I have a question," she said, sounding strange, even for someone as baked as she. "Okay." "I want to ask it, but I don't want you to freak out when I ask. It's just a question." I'd long ago learned not to take her too seriously when she's like this. "Sure." "Promise." "I promise." She giggled, like she'd never thought she'd be saying this, but ... "How ... serious were you the other night." "What other night?" "That thing about me taking a guy on the side." My scrotum tightened. It actually did. I felt a chill down the center of my being and my nether regions pulled in like a fat teenager sucking in his gut when a pretty girl walks by. "It's just a question," she said into the silence of the room. "Why do you ask?" More giggling. I wasn't sure what was going on inside of me, but the giggling soothed it, for some reason. "I mean, people say things, y'know? And I was just curious if you were just fooling around ... I mean, I know you were fooling around, but ... what do you think about that?" "I, uh ... I don't know." "Honey, I need you to relax." She was suddenly in my face again. Smiling. Slit eyes. It was the pot, I decided. "Okay, I'm relaxed. What's going on in that crazy little mind of yours." "I dunno. It's just ... since you said that, I've been walking around ... well, I've been walking around wet." She saw I was going to make a point. "Even hornier than I've been lately ... seriously." "I didn't even know this was a fantasy of yours." "I guess neither did I, but, like I said, it's all I can think about." My throat was dry. More wine. "If you want it to just stay a fantasy, I'm totally cool with that," she was saying, near my ear. "But if you don't mind it being something more ... I'd like to explore that." Her hand slid down my torso. I twisted momentarily, but in vain. "Oh, my ..." she exclaimed. "Part of you thinks it's okay ..." I shrugged a little. "That's because it reacts to kinkiness ... and this is kinky. And that part doesn't call the shots." Regardless, she gave me a small rub through my pants. "I'd never do anything that would jeopardize this, you know that, right?" "I think so. I mean, I trust you." "If I just wanted to fuck around, I'd do it without telling you, right?" "And you haven't, right?" "Never." I paused. I knew a lot of this was the pot but ... again ... she seemed so earnest about the whole thing. "I know you think about this sort of thing. I know you read the stories online." "Yeah, but those are just fantasies ..." I said. More caressing of my cock through my pants. "You liked it when I danced with that guy in the Bahamas." "Yeah, but that was dancing ..." "And flirting ..." She licked my ear. I grinned reflexively. That had been pretty great. "And a little grinding," she added with a wink. "You never told me that part," I chided ... not sure if she were joking again. "You never asked." "This is crazy, you know that, don't you?" My body was turning on me ... the endorphins rushing through my system and sucking me into a black hole. "Yeah. But I'd like to try it." "You got the guy picked out?" "I do," she nodded. "Anyone I know?" "Nope. A student." "A college kid? Cradle robber." "Well, I like 'em young, dumb and full of cum." "If you get caught ..." "Hey, he goes to Milburne ... and I go by my maiden name at work, anyway. Nobody'll ever connect us." I moaned ... her hands were doing magic. "Are you really serious?" "I am. If you say yes, I'm going to seduce him tomorrow after work. He shows up to pick up the outgoing packages." "Think he's up for it?" She licked my ear again. That always did me in. "That's a silly question, don't you think?" A sane part of me rebelled at this entire line of discussion. Then it reached a compromise. I set her back a little. "Okay, listen. Wait. If you're serious about this ... we need some rules." She sat up immediately. Stone sober. Well, almost. "I'm totally serious, are you listening." "Of course." "Rule one ..." my mind creaked, soaked with wine and fighting a raging hardon. "Rule one is you always have to check with me before ..." She nodded. "Of course." "And tell me what happened after." She grinned. "I think I can arrange that." "No more than one time with any other guy. Ever. I'm very serious about this one." "You think I'm going to leave you?" She appeared amused. "I consider it a possibility." She got closer. "Honey, I'd never leave you. You have money and also King Schlong." She then gave the latter a squeeze. I should note ... it's true. I have a very large cock. Especially for a mathematician, but pretty much for regular guys, too. I don't like to brag, but I do take a certain pride. "I want this to enhance our marriage, not threaten it." She added. "Oh, and a condom. You have to use a condom." She nodded, slowly, then. She knew she had me. Damn, she had me. She sealed the deal by unfastening my pants, sliding them down my thighs, and placing her hot, hot mouth on my cock, through the material of my boxers. I could feel the fabric instantly heat up like she'd applied a blowtorch. Her right hand grabbed my balls through my underwear and provided gentle, even pressure. She opened her mouth and placed it over where my cockhead was. "I love your cock," she told me ... then tugged down my boxers to let it lumber loose. Her mouth opened wide, then, and she worked about a third of my dick in between her lips, the tongue working the underneath expertly. I thought briefly of the college boy she'd targeted. The poor bastard didn't have a chance. But then she snaked her left hand up under me, rubbing a spot just outside my asshole. I bucked. Man, when she did that it was more of a love/hate thing than anything I could experience outside the world of sex. I wanted her to stop every bit as much as I wanted her to continue. Grinning around my cock at the expression on my face she knew so well, she continued. "You so like that, you just won't admit it." "Stop talking and suck my dick," I told her. Looking dubious, she did just that, running the tongue up one side of my now totally-stiff cock and down the other. She also pressed forward with her left hand. "Seriously," she said again, a wicked look on her face. "I'll stop. All you have to do is say to." I was squirming now. "Aren't you supposed to be doing this as a favor for me letting you fuck another guy?" She put the spongy tip of my cock in her mouth and pulled off, a loud pop audible in the room. "And all you had to say was stop ..." she said, seemingly to herself, and plunged a finger knuckle deep into my ass. I gasped and wiggled, but the finger stayed put ... even worked its way a little deeper in there. Meanwhile, she sucked my cock ever deeper into her mouth ... now beginning to move the finger in and out, in and out ... a miniature piston. I didn't last long from there, exploding in her mouth ... and across the lower part of her face ... and over her shoulder onto her back ... and on the carpet a little. Waiting for my vision to clear, I looked over at my wife ... who was cleaning herself up ... rubbing some of the cream into her skin. A blissful look was on her face. "You gonna do that to this guy?" I asked her. She paused. "Ehhh, I think I'm going to reserve that particular trick for you." Then she slowly scooped up a little bit of my cum with her index finger and tantalizingly slipped it into her mouth. "Oh, yeah," I said out loud. "The kid's a dead man." I'd like to tell you that I spent the next evening pensive and anxious ... either agonizing over the decision I'd made or waiting with baited breath and erect penis. Neither was true, however. I worked. I worked hard. And, in a way that only mathematicians and artists can understand, I forgot about everything ... even the fact my perky little 34-year-old wife was across town fucking the brains out of some 20-something stud from a rival college. That said, when I heard her car door slam in the driveway outside, I came out of my trance like a shot. And yes, I felt that sick sort of excitement in the pit of my stomach that always accompanies exceedingly guilty pleasures. Alert and a little dazed, I remained at the kitchen table as she opened the door and came in. She had a sort of half-smile on her face ... a drunken look but I knew she hadn't been drinking. As if reading my observation, she crossed, wordlessly, to the liquor stand and poured herself two fingers of scotch. She didn't usually drink scotch. Then she ambled ... and that's the word, ambled ... over to the couch and flopped down, crossing her legs and regarding me. "You look happy," I observed. She sipped the liquor. She nodded. "I am." "It went well?" More sipping. A long pull this time. "You want details?" Her grin was impish. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to demand 'em." "Then come closer." She instructed. She patted the sofa next to her. The moment I complied, she straddled me. I could feel the heat of her cunt even through my jeans. "What details do you want?" "Just spill it," I told her, smiling myself. She ground herself into me a little, finished her scotch. Then she told me. Turns out, she'd been laying the groundwork for this over the course of several weeks. Little flirtatious gestures, cute talk, maybe a skirt shift that showed a little too much leg from time to time. That day, she'd made sure she was the only one in the office when he arrived to pick up the packages ... not a difficult task at the end of the day. She'd unlocked the door to let him in. Locked it again after he entered. They'd chatted for a while then, her making sure to put her hands on her forearm as they talked. Making sure to laugh at anything remotely funny. Before long they were sitting at a desk in the office's main conference room, trading stories. She asked him if he had a girlfriend. He said he liked to play the field. She told him she was sure he had lots of action. He shrugged and said he guessed so. Lucky girls, she'd said in a soft voice. Really lucky. And then she'd leaned forward and kissed him, hard, on the lips. "Aren't you married?" He'd stuttered. "What difference does that make?" She'd cooed back. And, really, he had no answer to that question. "So it was that easy?" I asked her, then. My cock, hard now, was pressed up between us. "Well, first off ... don't be surprised. I can seduce with the best of 'em." I conceded the point. "But, actually ... no ... it wasn't that easy." She proved to be too good a seductress. After some extended making out, which included her gradual disrobing ... revealing a body that was still fit and trim despite a few months of relative inactivity ... she had knelt down in front of him (my heart skipped about six beats at this point in the story), opened his pants and took out his cock. Marathon Girl The incessant pounding of rubber soles to pavement thumped focus. Then determination. I can do this. I will do this, each stride seemed to say. I must do this, thought the runner, why I don't know, but I won't rest until the training is done and the race is complete. The sweltering heat was relentless. Lelanni wanted it that way. Anyone can train at six in the morning before the torturing sun is high in the sky. That which doesn't kill me will only make me stronger. The twelve ounces of water that was all she could comfortably manage to carry was long gone, leaving behind the plastic bottle that now dangled from her waistband, bouncing against her bronzed and well-toned thigh. She had resisted the water as long as she could, as the beads of sweat from the bottle oozed a refreshing coolness down her cheeks when she'd rub it across her face and through her hair. She'd left her University of Georgia ballcap at home, safety giving way to vanity. Hot as it was, she enjoyed the tickle of her jet black hair over the top of her back, training herself to sense a shiver through her body. The shiver was an illusion, for sure, but a welcome distraction from the elements. Fit and muscular, Lelanni did not have the typical body of a distance runner. She was tall, more like a tennis player, her 125 pound frame just enough to make her knees and ankles ache from all the pounding her training required. Nothing 400 milligrams of ibuprofen couldn't keep under control. A little pain's not going to stop me. Focus. Determination. Maybe when she was finished with the race she'd tattoo those two words on her arm as a personal reward. And maybe cross-stitch them on a pillow, too. If she knew how. Her favorite route, the hilliest and most challenging one of course, took her through a neighborhood typical of unbridled yuppie growth, burgeoning thirtysomething affluence, and suburban sprawl. The "starting from the 400s" two-story transitional homes each sat on a fifth of an acre, their close quarters accentuating their sameness, contrary to the production builder's insistence that the three different floor plans and multiple elevations offered "variety" and "uniqueness". An uberconservative homeowner's association did its part, as each home was painted in one's favorite shade of white, crème, or beige on three sides, with red brick covering the front of each. Most driveways sported a late-ish model minivan or SUV, mostly tan or white, with an accompanying Camry/Accord/Maxima, as the garages for which they were intended bulged with garden tools, riding mowers, bicycles, and unchecked accumulation. In short, Funderburke Farms looked much like the two dozen or so Kids and Cul-de-Sac neighborhoods that had sprung up in the area over the past five years. Lelanni barely noticed the dearth of color "On the Farm", nor did she notice the man distributing the homeowner's monthly newsletter bearing that name as he drove on the wrong side of the street inserting the "never-to-be-read-by-most" two-pager into the cubby beneath each identical mailbox. She made a wide circle around the somewhat out-of-place yellow Ford Fusion with the "SGLNLVNIT" vanity plate, Peace is Patriotic bumper sticker, and "Alzheimers Awareness" ribbon magnet, meeting the gaze of its driver, a dark-haired fellow with a goatee who looked perhaps a size or two too big for his vehicle. She looked away at once, focusing instead on the incline that was Funderburke Parkway, but felt the driver's gaze boring through her black-short clad ass like a phaser on stun. Creep, she thought. Got no time for you or your lame-assed sled. Lelanni quickened her pace, taking the hill with a bit more ease than her first attempt two months ago when she first began her training, well on her way to a personal best for this twelve-mile training route. ******************** His cock was throbbing before he even pulled into the driveway. God, I can't believe how horny I am lately, he thought. Well, come to think of it, maybe I can. Will watched the garage door slowly make its way up the tracks, revealing his employer's own pile of garage crap. He briefly pondered the "just enough room" space the garage afforded his modest little ride, but turned his attention instead to the pressure in his drawers. She was absolutely gorgeous. Not everyday a dark-skinned Athena comes blazing through this lily-white neck of the woods. Visions of her round bottom consumed him, her black mesh running shorts revealing the bottoms of her ass cheeks, a sexy yet start contrast to her muscular machine-like legs. Jacking off in broad daylight was hardly his M.O., but sometimes cheap thrills were better than no thrills at all. His pecker popped right out of his pants, anxious for daylight so it seemd, as his hand moved up and down its rigid shaft. As he caressed himself with loving, care, his all-too familiar Pavarotti ringtone blared, the caller ID from his phone revealing nothing. Dammit. Will grabbed his phone off the passenger seat with his right hand and thumbed the rollover button, half-covering his dick with his left. That call's just going to have to wait. He felt a twinge of panic shoot through him as he saw the mailman's car in the rearview mirror, not thinking to put the phone down and fumbling with his pants one-handed. "Ouch!" The zipper caught pubic hair as he frantically tried to close his pants, almost succeeding. "Hi, Will!" He heard the muffled voice of his next door neighbor through the glass as she ran down her driveway to fetch the mail. Since when is SHE home during the day?? I hope she doesn't come over here, he thought, though his erection was all but gone. I'll just pretend I didn't hear her, which wasn't a bad plan, save for having already turned his head in the direction of her voice. As he saw his neighbor scurry back into the house, he had to laugh at himself. Next time I'll wait until I'm inside. Much safer that way. Well, at least there's nothing to clean up. ******************** Tuesday Twelve miles. Every weekday. Same bat-time. Same bat-channel. Eighteen to twenty on Saturday, with Sunday being a day of rest. Tuesday was yet another welcome scorcher, the black pavement rippling in her sight. For most the cheery Funderburke Farms pansied and petuniaed brick entrance said "Welcome", or "Buy your next home here". To Lelanni it was a harbinger to Jellyleg Hill. Without the adrenaline from yesterday's mild creepout, she might have wilted. Instead, with a new confidence she attacked the hill, sucking in whatever aerobic nourishment she could from the heavy, humid air and paraphrasing silly lines from A Few Good Men, which had been on TNT the night before. You want me on that Hill! You NEED me on that Hill! You can't HANDLE the Hill! ******************** He was ready for her. Perhaps Bronzed Lightning would strike twice. He'd grabbed the kitchen marshboard, long replaced as the keeper of the to-do list by PDAs, and had scribbled ALOHA with dry-erase markers. A different color for a different letter. Less threatening if it had an artsy touch to it, ya see? The smiley didn't hurt, either. As he saw her reaching the apex of Funderburke Parkway, he sauntered outside, holding his makeshift greeting high over his head, accompanied by his best shit-eating grin. She caught the sign out of the corner of her eye, making no movement that acknowledged the effort to its maker. ALOHA? Damn, she thought. Good guess. ******************** Wednesday Some people just need to get a life. Even if he is a threat, which I'm pretty sure he's not, I think I could a) outrun his tired ass or b) kick his tired ass if I had to. Doesn't he have anything better to do? Her thoughts distracted and annoyed her. Focus! But how can I? Why would a perfect stranger stand outside his house with a sign that says I'm Will, what's your name? Sheesh, might be time to scope out a new set of hills and cul-de-sacs. ******************** Thursday Jellyleg Hill better be worth the aggravation. Looks like I won't be changing my route, and I know he'll be there again. Damn. Focus! Just continue to ignore him and he'll stop. Wishful thinking. For a thrill, dial 1-800-555-WILL. God, that's stupid. Lelanni unwittingly picked up her pace. Is that a lump in his pants? That's so gross. ******************** Friday "It was 19 and 61. That Mantle, he was a horse. Sweetest swing you'd ever see from either side of the plate. It was Maris's year, but everyone wanted to see the Mick break Ruth's single season record," the old man said. Single-season record? More like broken record. But we're having a good day today, Will thought, keeping his hand under Mr. Tyler's chin in the event his charge dropped his water glass. The shakes were becoming a bit more pronounced, the early stage of Parkinson's adding insult to injury. "Damn, those boys could hit," Mr. Tyler continued. "These players today got it too easy. Can't imagine what those M&M boys...that's what they called Mantle and Maris in those days...the M&M boys, would be making today. And they'd be earning it, too." "They'd be making A-Rod money for sure," Will's canned response whenever the conversation meandered to All Things Pinstripes, which was about every day. "I took Francis to her first ballgame in '61. Proposed to her during the seventh inning stretch. We've been hand in hand ever since," a sweet smile smeared across the old man's face. The late Mrs. Tyler was anything but in Chadford Tyler's reality, but that was OK at this point. "Let me give you a piece of advice, Will," Mr. Tyler continued. "Don't ever let a day go by without doing a good deed..." His sweet smile become a tad naughty, his trembling index finger pointed right at Will's face. "...and never pass up an opportunity to kiss a pretty girl." Will mentally mouthed the words as Mr. Tyler spoke, but still delighted in the charming old bastard's recurring advice. Pedro Say Just 20 Miles to South of the Border. Let's try the goofball route on for size today. ******************** Don't laugh. Don't even roll your eyes. God, what does he do all day? If I'm the most important person in his pathetic little life there's a real problem here. That was kinda funny, though. I hate those stupid Pedro signs. Focus, woman, focus. ******************** Saturday "OK, just stop it, Will. Or whatever your name is. I'm trying to train for a marathon here. Do you even have a life? I mean, what do you DO all day anyway?" Her legs really were jelly today. Enough of an excuse to stop today's training run and force the inevitable interaction. I'm sure it wouldn't be the way HE'D want it if I got in his face. Her anger was getting her up the Hill today, the only emotion she had left in her waning armamentarium, depleted by the triple-digit heat. Her "jump down his throat" fantasy dissipated as she made those last strides over the Hill and around the bend, greeted by Doncha Wish Your Boyfriend Was Hot Like Me? Worn down and punchy, Lelanni couldn't suppress a giggle. "Don't YOU wish?" she called back over her shoulder, a renewed energy speeding up her pace as she gave Will the slightest wave. ******************** Monday Missed You Yesterday •. Yeah, I wonder what was on THAT sign? I think I'm glad I missed it. Never should have encouraged him. Time to put this guy back on "Ignore". ******************** Tuesday I Know She's Digs Me by the Way She Ignores Me. This IS a, what the hell do they call it, a Community Watch Neighborhood? I need my Hill. I'm not altering my route. There's kids on Razor Scooters for chrissakes, how unsafe could this place be? Focus! He looks kinda good in those jeans. Focus, dammit! ******************** Wednesday SGLNLVNIT. Aahh, the cryptic vanity plate. Wonder how many times he's almost got rear-ended from people trying to figure it out? God, I haven't improved my time all week. I think I'll shoot him my best Whatever Face. What does it mean anyway? So Glan…Siggle New…No, wait, Single New Living? Single and Living It…no, I got it! Ha! Single and Lovin… "FUCK!!" "That lady just said a bad word! Mommy, MOM-MEEE! that lady just said 'fuck'. She said 'fuck', Mommy." "Kaitlin, honey, we do NOT use those kind of words. Now go inside and play." The mason's truck has just rumbled away from the last lot under construction, leaving behind a lone Funderburke Farms red issue brick. With Focus and Determination out for an extended lunch, Lelanni never saw the rectangular obstacle, but she knew the instant her toe stubbed the brick her balance would fail her. She felt the heat of the pavement sear through both her palms, as if she'd touched a preheated stove that had warmed up quicker than expected. Unable to completely break her fall, Lelanni winced as her already sore knee banged and scraped against the unforgiving asphalt. It's over, was her first thought. She did, however, manage to avoid Nancy Kerrigan "I've just been gilloolied"-like "Why, WHY?" drama, having already spent all her "Make a Scene Bucks" by screaming "Fuck" in neighborhood full of preschoolers. Too full of piss and vinegar to stay down, plus the street was freaking hot, Lelanni was on her feet in a flash, hoping to convince herself her knee would hold her up. "Are you all right?" Will came running, quickly breaking a sweat that caused his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose, Clark Kent not bothering to change into his superhero gear. Lelanni clenched her jaw, poised to redirect the frustration boiling inside. "You…YOU!! With your fucking signs! You see what you made me do? It's OVER! OVER, thanks to you." "Just calm down, calm…" Will, like most men, had never and would never quite learn not to tell an emotionally-charged woman just to calm down. "I'm not going to calm down. How can I calm down? It's OVER!!" "I dunno. Deep breath maybe?" Will's tone was even as he tried to restore calm other than telling her so. Lelanni simply glared at him, wincing finally when she remembered the pain screaming from her knee. "Let me have a look at that, I'm a nurse." "A nurse?? Oh that's rich. I think you've done enough, Nightengale! Where's your hat?" Nursing caps were to male nurses what Dunkin' Donuts was to cops. Whatever. She's pissed and hurt. "It's good you're able to stand up. May just be a scrape. What's 'over', anyway?" "Probably nothing, now that I think of it." Step. Hobble. Step. Bit less of a hobble. Lelanni steeled herself to the pain, becoming as oblivious to it as she was to the two trails of blood snaking down her shin in an impromptu drag race. "I'm running this race, a marathon. Nothing's going to stop me, not a brick, not a knee, not you." "I'm not stopping you, especially since you look like you're about to do something foolish and run on that thing," Will said, pointing to her bloody pulp of a knee. "Can you at least wait until I get some Neosporin for it?" "Neosporin? What's next? You gotta burp towel in your pocket?" Will resisted the "No, I'm just happy to see you" retort. He did have burp towel, actually, but not for the reasons Lelanni was implying. "Well OK, then," he finally said. "Why don't you just take some of that blood and wipe some under your eyes, Miss Xena Warrior Princess?" "Not a bad idea." With a curl of her slender index finger, Lelanni blunted the downward trail of the longer blood line and with a cocky, toothless smile, she dabbed one cheek with her crimson warpaint, and then the other: Little Miss Badass in the midst of Teletubbies, carpools, playdates, and homeowner dues. Without another word she was off, slower but steady. Her cellphone shrieked, causing Will to triple-take, having already indulged himself with a bird's-eye view of the twitch of her ass, accentuated by the limp in her gait. She was moving slowly enough that he could catch snippets of the conversation as she labored her way up the street. "…not going to make the checkpoint today. Took a spill." "Sorry, I…" "I know, you're right, it WAS stupid…" ******************** Thursday "You've really outdone yourself this time." Lemonade, 25 cents. Ask about our runner's discount. "Sugar-free, too. Always worried about cavities amongst my clientele." "You set this up often, then?" "I'm a…onta-panure. Nursing pays like shit." "I don't have any money on me." "Here…on the house." Will got up off the chair fit for a four year old, almost losing his balance in the process, as he handed over a slightly too full Dixie Cup full of Pink Country Time. "Pink. How nice." "Don't start." "Listen, I want to apologize for yesterday. I don't even know you, not like that should make a difference, but I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." "Fuggedaboudit. You were in pain. And thinking it was the end of the world." "Yeah. Hurt a bit this morning. I took a naproxen, which is what I usually take for my period." Lelanni flushed slightly at her own unexpected admission. "Ohhh, you mean the pill you forgot to take YESTERDAY, hmmm?" Will punctuated his sarcasm with a bulge of the eyes and a Church Lady disapproving pursing of the lips. Lelanni giggled. He was starting to like it when she did. "Yeah, mighta helped with the mood, I guess. So what's your deal, anyway?" "I look after Chancellor Tyler, he lives with his daughter and her…" "Oh, I heard he was a sweetheart! My older brother was at Georgia when he was there. Had to quit because of Alzheimer's right?" "Yeah. Really sad. Early onset. He's still only 68. Parkinson's too. Has his good days and bad days. Sleeps a lot during the day. The nights can be a real killer." "Shouldn't you be in there with him?" "Baby monitor." Will nodded towards the monitor just as it hissed slightly. "Low tech, but very effective. His daughter was home first time I saw you in my car last week." "Hmmm, birth of an obsession, maybe?" Lelanni said, winking and then immediately regretting it. "Listen, the signs are cute and everything, but do you think you could maybe stop?" "Sure. Hell, I just wanted to meet you. Mission accomplished. You're as nice as you are b-beautiful". Will hardly ever stuttered anymore, but picked a bad time to get a scratch in his throat. "Thanks, you're sweet." "That's me. Captain Sweet! Hey, you wanna meet Chancellor Tyler?" Lelanni pondered the offer. "What if he's asleep?" "I gotta rouse him to take his meds." "Well, uh, sure. I think I'd like that, you sure it's…" Yesterday's phone shriek revisited. "…hold on…hello?" A pause. "No. No, not today, either. Yes I took the Anaprox. I'll get there as fast as I can. OK. O-KAYY! Bye." Lelanni's face was ashen, and with a fretful bite of her lip, strong enough to leave behind two bite marks, she looked over at Will. "I gotta go." "Wish you didn't. But I understand." "You do?" "No, not really, but it seems you should go." "Yes, I must." "It's nice to meet you." "Uh, yeah, you're welcome." "You're welcome?" "Sorry, I'm a little distracted." "I may be a little off base here, but I suppose running a marathon is quite a personal challenge. I hope you're doing it for yourself." "I am, I really gotta go, though. Bye." Marathon Girl ******************** Friday Run, Forrest, Run!! "I thought I told you no more signs," Lelanni shouted back at Will with a broad grin. "And besides, it's Lelanni!" "Last one I promise, couldn't resist!", he answered with a shameless shrug. "Nice to meet you, finally! Watch out for the bricks!" With a shake of her head, Lelanni was back in stride, virtually pain-free and determined to make the elusive checkpoint of the day's training run. That one really takes the cake. Hmmm, I may not be a smart girl…but I DO know what LOVE is. Isn't that how it goes, Forrest Gump? Well, for two years, I've told myself that I did. Surely I do. Don't I? ******************** "Is the fruit OK?" "Yes. Thank you." Makul broke off a stem of purple grapes and popped one in his mouth. "These from the Fresh Market, right?" "No," Lelanni replied. "Kroger. Had some 'organically grown' on special. They looked pretty good, and…you're not really going to spit that out, are you?" Makul had already expelled the once-bitten grape into a napkin before Lelanni got the question out. He used the well-manicured fingernail on his left pinky to root out any further remnants of the offending orb from between his teeth. "Well, like I've told you before, I only like the fruit from the Fresh Market. Is all this from Kroger?" "No," Lelanni sighed. "Just the grapes. You honestly think you'd have known the difference if I hadn't told you?" "You would have lied to me?" "No, I didn't say that. I'm just…" "Because we have no trust if you're not truthful with me." "Makul, we're talking about grapes here." "Precisely. And if you'd lie about grapes, then who knows what else?" Lelanni was in no mood for the Daily Argument About Nothing. "Well, I think they're delicious." She grabbed a handful and continued with her mouth full, much to Makul's chagrin. "If I keel over, please be sure to dial 911, though I s'pose you're far enough along in med school to revive me if you have to." "I don't think we have to worry." "You're probably right. You didn't miss the lecture on fruit poisoning, did you?" No reply. "I'm pretty pleased I hit the checkpoint today. It was…" "…the first time in three days. Hit mine every day this week." "Well, it might do you good to miss one then." "Whatever do you mean?" "Never mind. You going to keep your nose buried in that anatomy text all night?" "Got to. Between my studies and the marathon training, what choice do I have?" "We all have choices, Makul." Lelanni inched closer to her boyfriend, hoping he'd catch a whiff of the Paco Rabanne scent she'd just bought. God knows he'd said nothing about how she looked in her black halter and faded jeans that hugged her dark well-toned form. "Perhaps some hands-on training might be in order. Been awhile." Makul's "I'm-not-going-to-have-sex-until-the-marathon-is-over-didn't-we-agree-on-that" Face wasn't all that different from his "I-just-ate-a-grape-from-Kroger" Face. With a dismissive wave and no small amount of irritation he half-glared at Lelanni: "I'm puzzled with your attitude lately. Your focus isn't where it needs to be." At least he noticed SOMETHING about me. "Makul, this race. It's consuming you. And I suppose it should. You're a brilliant runner. As for me, I'll be lucky to crack the five hour mark…" "Five hours is better than six. We must all strive to be better, to be our best." "I remember something we're pretty good at. Let's take a night off." Lelanni reached out to touch Makul's face just as he turned his nose back down down to re-bury it in all things Human Circulatory System. "Do you MIND??" he bellowed, startled by her light touch to his cheek, as if she'd swatted a patch of sunburn on his back. "I really need to get back to this. Don't you have some painting to do or something?" "God, you're jumpy. See you later. Off to do some painting. Or SOMETHING!" ******************** Do you MIND?? The words still stung like the tears that streamed down her cheeks. He'll never see me like this. No one will. Lelanni squinted as the headlights of an oncoming car burned through her rearview mirror. The car passed the spot where Lelanni's car was parked, and pulled into the driveway next door to the Tyler residence. Should I or shouldn't I? Lelanni debated as she looked through a bedroom window where the lights from a television flickered. No, she thought, finally. For yourself! Do it for you! Not BECAUSE of him. She cranked the car up, momentarily startled by the blare of the music from the radio, having forgotten how loud she'd been playing it on the way over, and she drove back home. ******************** "Morning, Debbie." "Hi there, Will. How's the Chancellor today?" "Doing OK. Be sure to come see him some time." "I'll be sure to try. As usual, I don't have a minute! Sit still, sweetie, let me get you buckled in." Debbie Wickman managed to get the last of her three kids secured in the Town and Country, two on their way to daycare and the oldest to Barrow Elementary, all to be dropped off before Debbie's ten o'clock client meeting. Forget it, US Army, it was Debbie Wickman who did more before 9AM than most people did in a day! "How's the love life, Will?" Other than you being replaced atop my masturbatory fodder list, you mean? "Not much going on. Don't really have the time." "You got time to make up posters every day now, don't you? How are those working out for you?" "So you heard about those, huh? Or are you the new neighborhood Gladys Kravitz?" "Not me! Seems you've gotten the young lady's attention." Debbie didn't tell Will she had seen Lelanni parked outside the house a few nights before. "Stop beatin' around the bush, Will the Thrill. Tell a woman what you think and how you feel. You might even get laid every now and then!" "You cut to the chase, don't you?" "Don't have time for anything else." "OK, then. Debbie, I want you. Now!" Will said, grinning, but not before he was certain Debbie's side doors were closed and her charges were out of earshot. "You couldn't handle it, my friend. I gotta go. Late as usual. Really, think about it darlin'. It'd sure beat jerkin' off in the driveway now, wouldn't it?" Will was dumbfounded. "No worries. Your secret's safe with me. Just be grateful it was just little old me who saw it." Debbie winked as she backed up WICKMAN5 to start yet another Manic Monday. ******************** "Lelanni?!" Will was surprised to see her at the door. "You OK?" Chest heaving, much to Will's delight, and out of breath, Lelanni managed, "I think I'll live, but this knee. It's really killing me." "Come in, come in. Let's go into the kitchen and sit down." "Thanks. I think I'll be all right. Tried resting it the last couple of days. Maybe I should have waited another day." "You may want to have someone take a look at it." Someone already has, Lelanni thought, and HE chastisted me for taking the weekend off! "You're probably right." Lelanni couldn't help but eye the bowl of grapes sitting on the kitchen table as she half-sat, half-plopped into a chair, not realizing how close she came to tipping herself over and fucking herself up royally. "Oh, my manners." My manners? Lelanni suppressed a smirk. "Would you like some? I just washed them." "Are they for Chancellor Tyler?" "No, no, he already ate." "Well, I don't mind if I do." Lelanni broke off a stem and grabbed two grapes to stick in her mouth. "Are these from Kroger by any chance?" "No, I picked them up at the Fresh Market." Fuck. "Funny you should say that, though. I usually buy them all my fruit including grapes at Kroger. But once in a while I just like to splurge, I suppose." That's much better. OK, he scores some points. Gotta deduct one for using the word "splurge", though. "Missed seeing you running by this weekend," Will continued. "But don't worry, I didn't have any signs prepared." "That's fine. Sorry about barging in on you like this. I know you're working and God, I'm a sweaty mess." Lelanni became acutely aware of how she looked at the moment versus how she did on Friday night, wondering again just what she was doing. She pushed her hair behind her right ear with the hand that still held the two grapes, looking back at Will in a moment of awkward silence. "Horses sweat. Men perspire. Women GLOW!" Will quickly tried to fill up the dead air. "Well, I'm glowing like a pig!" "You're still welcome at any time. And I'll take your Sweaty Mess Look over anyone else's! I'm glad you're here." Will had nothing else to say but was rescued by a stir from upstairs coming through the monitor. "You feel up to meeting the Chancellor? He's up now. I mean, it's upstairs and everything. I hate to ask you to take the stairs if you're…" "I'll be fine, thanks. And yes, I would like to meet him." Lelanni popped the grapes in her mouth and followed Will up the staircase. Will paused and motioned to take her by the arm. "Let me help you. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Lelanni clutched his beefy arm and liked how it felt. She didn't really need any help climbing the stairs. But she was eating up the chivalry like candy. Or a bowl of grapes. From anywhere. ******************** "Hello." "Chad, I want you to meet Lelanni." Everyone called Chancellor Tyler "Chad". He'd insisted on it his entire adult life. "Nice to meet you, Chancellor Tyler." Lelanni hadn't gotten the memo. "Chad's the name. What'd you say your name is again?" "Lelanni." "You a friend o' this guy over here?" Chancellor Tyler pointed his thumb toward Will and rolled his eyes, his shakes seeming to be in check for the moment. "You could say that." Lelanni scrunched up one side of her mouth as she looked back at Will, revealing a small dimple in her cheek he'd never seen before. He started to wonder the same thing she did earlier. Just what is she doing here? "It's about time Will brought a woman 'round heah," the Chancellor bellowed in his still very dignified Foghorn Leghorn, Ph.D. voice. "The scenery here's been a bit dull." That earned Will another eyeroll. "I'm sure they miss you over on campus." The Chancellor didn't appear to hear her. "So are you Hawaiian?" he asked her. "Just a little bit. A quarter. Mostly Indian, though." The Chancellor thought about that for a moment. "Took a trip to India years ago. I think we had an exchange program with a University there. That was it. It's wasn't far from a girls' orphanage. Francis came with me." He stared up toward the ceiling and smiled broadly. "We sponsored one of the young women there for years. Francis loved those girls." Will couldn't tell if Chad thought she was alive or not. "Young lady died of cancer. They sent us a picture of her at the funeral. It was nice, but poor Francis, it really shocked her." He chuckled. "I don't think she's home right now." Alive. "Maybe you can meet her sometime." "I hope so. How long have you been together?" Lelanni hadn't gotten that memo, either. "Since 19 and 60. I proposed to her the next year at Yankee Stadium. Right during the seventh inning stretch. She'll tell you all about it." "You need anything, Chad?" Will broke in, hoping to avoid a lengthy discourse about the M&M boys. "No." "We're going head on downstairs." Will took Lelanni by the arm. "Whaddya think about a walk a bit later, Chad?" "Maybe tomorrow." His answer for the last week. Will made a mental note to mention that to Chad's daughter, who would be conferring with the physician the next day. "OK, Chad." As they walked out the door, the Chancellor called after Will: "Keep hanging on to her." Will smiled but didn't say anything. "It's nice to meet a pretty lady. Sure beats the scenery we've had around her lately. Nice he's finally brought a woman around." An impish smile spread across his face. "I was starting to think he was a homo!" ******************** After the quick debrief on the way back downstairs (Francine died/call him Chad/don't ask about the Yankees/I'm not a homo), Will and Lelanni sunk into the "I was sitting here first you go somewhere else, yeah but I was just sitting there MOVE" comfy couch in the family room. Lelanni plopped down sideways, digging her toes just beneath Will's thighs. "Hope you don't mind. I thought the sofa was a little longer." "Naw, I don't mind." "He seems pretty with it for someone with Alzheimer's." "It's very early stage, just diagnosed. It's not unusual for patients to remain pretty lucid for awhile. But," Will chuckled, "he hardly sounds like the Chancellor who once helped advocate for gay rights on the Georgia campus." He exhaled, glancing back upstairs. "He's just not quite…" "…himself?" "No, and he'll never be. Sad. But we'll aim to make the rest of his life as comfortable as we can." "You have a good heart." "Excuse me?" "You heard me. The way you look at him. Care for him." "It's my job." "Well, you're good at your job. But it's more than that. He matters to you. That's the difference. And like…" Lelanni paused and glanced downward. She drew her feet out from under Will and wrapped her arms around her knees. The mini-stretch made her sore knee ache a little. But it was a good kind of pain. "…like what?" Will asked, swallowing. "Like, with me. I can be such a bitch sometimes, but…" "…actually, no." Will started to laugh. "What do you mean?" "Well, I wouldn't say it's an act. More of a, ummm, defense mechanism. You just like to keep your guard up." Will found himself somewhere between waxing philosophically and rambling. "I think lots of women who THINK they're, uh, bitches, sorry-your-word-not-mine, really aren't. They even fool themselves." "Maybe." Lelanni cocked her head, as if sizing Will up for the first time. "And maybe, we all have our little ways of being guarded. You didn't let me finish what I was going to say. Don't you want to hear it?" "S-sure." That stutter wasn't something in his throat. "ANYWAY…like with me. You might have just told me to fuck off once you saw I hadn't seriously hurt myself that day. But you showed me kindness." "K-killed you with it, huh?" "You knew how upset I was, and you didn't take it personally." Will felt a bead of sweat on his temple begin to trickle toward his ear. He wished he could stop swallowing. Be honest. With yourself. With her. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little n-nervous." "Why, Will, are you afraid of me?" Lelanni toyed, but not too much. "Listen, I like you, I think you're g-gorgeous. Damn! I don't know why I keep stuttering, I sound like Fonzie not being able to say 'I'm wr-wrong'! Oh wait, you're probably too young to remember Happy Days, aren't you?" "I'm familiar with it." "TV Land?" "Correctamundo. Now. Tell me something nice." "What?" "Let me make this a little easier for you. I like you too. Tell me something nice. I need to hear it." "The first time I looked in your big brown eyes, I was lost in them." Lelanni savored the warm fuzzy. That felt nice! "That's a good start. You're eyes are quite striking as well. And I like the way they look when you look at me." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "What else?" "Your skin. It's like bronze. Yet it looks so smooth." They both realized Will wasn't stuttering. "Would you like to touch it?" Lelanni didn't wait for an answer. She took his thick hand in hers and squeezed it, her long fingers easily wrapping around his. She lifted the hand and placed it on her cheek. "Smooth and silky?" she asked. He stroked her face and swallowed hard again. He brushed her hair away, feeling the perspiration that lingered in her hair. His paw found its way to the back of her head. As he drew her closer he asked, "OK if I kiss you?" Lelanni rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's more than OK," she beamed. Tilting her head up slightly and rocking forward, knees still up, Lelanni felt Will's arms envelop her as her lips met his. They lingered for a moment. Lelanni teased his nose with hers briefly, then crinkled it up. "This is a little uncomfortable," she said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't…" "It's OK." She draped her legs across his and wriggled her butt up closer to him. Draping her arms around his thick neck she smiled, "Much better." "Much better indeed," Will said, wondering if he sounded the least bit suave. The next kiss was much more comfortable. Eyes closed and completely in the moment, Will explored the fullness of Lelanni's lips and the sweetness of her tongue as he tasted it with his. He found himself stroking her leg, his hand enjoying the feel of her calf and her thigh. "I hope that's OK." "Stop asking permission. Of course it is. Feels good. It feels nice to be…well, yes, go right ahead." Lelanni caught herself in a little gulp of her own. "I didn't want to hurt your knee further." "Don't worry about it. It doesn't really hurt so much anymore." Will narrowed his eyes playfully. "Did it EVER hurt at all?" Lelanni matched his look. "Well…maybe just a little. Your hands make it feel that much better." Their kisses became deeper, longer, hungrier. "I could just inhale you right now." She longed to touch his broad chest she had come to admire over the last few weeks, groping at his shirt when her cell phone rang. "Don't pick it up." She gave his pecs a little pat. "Damn, I'd better. Hold these thoughts…Yes? Hi…no not a chance, knee's killing me. I had no business being out there today…you're there now? At the checkpoint?" "There was a Checkpoint Charlie, he didn't crack a smi-i-ile." Will sang. Softly. Lelanni didn't recognize the Elvis Costello snippet, but did recognize the attempt to distract her. "STOP!" she mouthed, trying to keep from laughing. "Yeah, I'm here…I'm outside, yes…" Will rolled his eyes. She smiled again and threw a pillow at him. "That neighborhood with the big hill…I'm just walking right now…if there's a problem I'll call you…I know you won't have time to pick me up, I'm not asking you to…I'll be fine, I'll just go real slow…I gotta go…why?...Battery's getting low…OK…OK…I will…OK…Bye." Lelanni flipped her phone shut and let out a frustrated exhale. "Chivalry is dead," Will said. "Hardly," came the reply. "And before you ask, I don't want to talk about it." "Who's asking? I'm assuming if all was well in paradise I wouldn't be smooching with you right now." "So where were we anyway?" "By the way, how are you going to get home?" "I said I didn't want to talk about it." And with that, Lelanni kissed Will again, opening her mouth wider as if she really were inhaling him. Will shifted as the erection pressing against his jeans became uncomfortable. Lelanni drew back, "I'm sorry, did I kiss you too hard, it's just…" She looked down and contemplated the huge bulge in Will's pants. "…oh, I see. Seems I'm not the only one getting a little, carried away," she said, with raised eyebrows and a purse of the lips. Will flushed with embarrassment at the size of the bulge. "It's just you're, so sexy. And I've never kissed anyone as sexy as you. I haven't kissed much of anyone lately…" "You like that word sexy?" Gulp. "I like the sexy, I mean…" "Would you like to see how sexy I can be?" Lelanni rested her hand on the bulge while drawing herself nearer, pressing her breasts against Will's chest. "Sit back." Lelanni unbuttoned the top of Will's pants with one hand while unzipping the fly with the other. She could hear his breathing get heavier as she caressed the bulge, teasing it with her fingernails. Marathon Girl "You sure 'Chad' won't be taking you up on that walk?" "I'm sure," Will said, eyes affixed to the cathedral ceiling. "Besides, I…ohthatsnice…have the monitor on. I'd hear him coming." He tilted his head forward. "But I don't think he's leaving his room any time soon." "OK, well lean back again, then," Lelanni whispered. They both jumped as the plasma TV behind them blared. Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns. "What was that?" Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons? "Seems the remote was buried in the couch here. Sorry," Will thumbed the remote and tossed it aside. "Princess Marathon on Toon Disney." "I won't even ask why you know that. That bare-chested guy was hot, though." "Shall I go make some popcorn?" "No, you should lean back like I told you." After a smile and a shove to the chest, Lelanni pulled Will's jeans and boxers down to his ankles, momentarily taken aback by the size of his erection. "Been awhile, you said?" "Too long." "I'd agree with that, my dear. Shame on you, denying all of womankind a specimen such as that." Her eyes transfixed on his cock, Lelanni licked her palms. "I want to touch him." "You have my permission!" "I didn't ask for it, babe." Lelanni felt her crotch tingle as she slowly stroked his shaft, wrapping both her hands around it and watching the head of his cock become shiny. "Do I do this better than you do?" "No comment!" "Hmmmpph!" Lelanni protested, "Would you like to take over?" "No." Will put his hands behind his head and grinned. "I like the way you…ohhh." "Don't come yet! I know you said it's been a while." Lelanni slowed her quickening pace. "What are you thinking about?" "The first…time I saw you." "Was this what you did when you saw me?" "Do I have to answer?" "You just did." Will moaned as Lelanni grabbed the base of the shaft with one hand to stroke furiously with the other. "Don't come yet. What did you think about when you saw me?" "That ass. Your ass. The way it moved when you…God…" Lelanni slowed the pace back. "Put your hand on my ass," she said lifting herself off the couch just enough as his hand slid underneath her. "You like the way it feels, hmmm?" "Oh yes. God I want you." "Plenty of time for that. Lelanni resumed her quicker strokes. I just want to tease you a bit more." "I'm not sure I can hold…" "Sure you can. Think about Yankee Stadium in 19 and 60," Lelanni grinned. "It feels so good, you feel so…" When it became clear Lelanni was bringing Will to the point of no return, she stroked him harder, feeling his cock stiffen and his balls draw upward. Will's teeth clenched as ropes of semen spurted from his cock. He shook his head in surprise as a drop of cum managed to reach his chin. "Thar she blows!" Lelanni said. "Does that feel nice?" Will was breathing heavily, his cheeks tinged crimson as he wiped his goatee. "God yes. Your touch. You…" "I what?" "I don't know. I'm speechless." Lelanni put her hand behind his head and gently kissed his cheek. "I'm glad I could please you." "But I didn't even get a chance to…" "Sshhh. No worries." "I couldn't hold my…" "Sshhh." Lelanni made a disapproving face. "You said it's been awhile. I'm flattered you'd want to be with me. Maybe we just need a little…practice!" She hopped up on his lap, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "You're a big bear. I like how you make me feel small." Will hugged her close to him. "I like being this close to you." He rested his head on her shoulder as Lelanni looked upward, biting her lower lip to fight back the tears she suddenly felt welling up. Not now with the faucets, please! She took a deep breath and whispered in his ear, "It's nice to feel wanted," her voice breaking ever so slightly. Stroking her hair, Will clutched her more tightly, "As long as I'm around, you will be." With one more deep breath, Lelanni had her composure. "You working tonight, babe?" "I am in fact. But not tomorrow." "You feel like having some dinner?" "Sure! Where would you like to go?" "My place." "Oh. OK. Great. What can I bring?" Lelanni glanced back down to Will's dick, still half-erect, and shook her head. "I'm not even answering that. You figure it out!" ******************** "You look ravishing!" Will said, as he walked through the door of Lelanni's apartment, giving her a kiss on the cheek and presenting her a bouquet of stargazer lillies, pink roses and "some of those purple ones" whose name he'd already forgotten. "Thank you, these are beautiful!" She took the flowers in one arm and draped the other around Will, squeezing his neck while tippy-toed. She felt ravishing, too, knowing full well her red tanktop showed off her dark skin and firm muscles. She'd thought about her white short shorts but settled on the lavender mini skirt, which matched the toenail polish she applied during the late afternoon pamperfest, one she thought she'd earned as much as any other. "Paco Rabanne?" Will asked. "I love that scent. Or should I say, I love it on you!" "Thanks, you wanna borrow it sometime?" Will rolled his eyes, "No. Got plenty. So, what exotic Indo-Hawaiian dish have you got planned?" "Spaghetti." Lelanni shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry!" "No, that's perfect. It smells great. Not as good as you, of course. I tossed a salad, hope that's OK. Basil, parsley, bunch of herbs and tomatoes from the Tyler's garden." "You didn't have to do that. But thanks!" Lelanni wisely avoided a Suzy Homemaker crack. "Nice shirt, by the way," she said. It was a nice enough black pleated linen shirt, but the complement was more of an excuse to pat his chest again. She liked feeling the thickness of his muscles and how tiny her hand looked as she felt them. As Will reached to clasp her hand in his, she drew it away, giving the flowers a little sniff. "I'd better put these in water." "Can I do anything to help?" "No, you just relax for a change. Have a seat in the, ummm, living room," Lelanni giggled nervously, "sorry but my place is pretty small." "It's bigger than the room I have at the Tyler's." Norah Jones's Feels Like Home CD was playing in the background. Will closed his eyes to listen to it, thinking it a bit melancholy as he sat down on the love seat. "Nice music." "You can change it if you want," Lelanni said from the kitchen. "I listen to her stuff all the time." "No, it's great!" Will overstated just a tad. He didn't much care for Norah Jones but figured it topped the Mulan soundtrack they'd been treated to yesterday. "On my way." Which she was. "You like red?" Lelanni asked, handing a wine glass to Will and she sat down next to him, crossing her legs. Will didn't answer. "Will?" His eyes were tranfixed on her bronze legs. He felt his tongue swirling in his mouth as her skirt rode up her thighs. "Right. Oh, yeah, red's great. Sorry, I was a little distracted." "Glad to hear it!" Lelanni said. She seemed to be looking over Will's shoulder. When she let out a small sigh Will asked, "Everything OK?" Lelanni looked down at her lap and gathered herself. "I'm OK." She gazed into her lap for a moment, then nodded her head several times, convincing herself before convincing him. "Yes. Definitely I'm OK. But thanks for asking. Been a long day. Glad it's over, and I'm glad you're here," she said, with an emphatic clink of her glass to his. ******************** Earlier No one, not his mother, not anyone, had ever told Makul that nothing good ever follows the phrase, "We need to talk." "What is it, Lelanni? I have a class later in the morning but I haven't fully prepared for it. By the way, you are going to run today, aren't you?" "I don't think so. But that's another issue. Makul…" "…but what about the training? How bad is your knee anyway?" Lelanni fumed. "It's fucking killing me!" She knew Makul hated when she swore. "And you know what, maybe this whole marathon bullshit is part of the issue." She'd sworn not to lose her temper and paused to take a breath. "What issue?" he asked, furrowing his brow and completely clueless. "Makul," she said, back under some semblance of control, "We've been this, I don't know, PAIR, for two years now. I feel as though everything thing I do has to do with you." "Isn't that how it's supposed to be?" "How what's supposed to be? And why should things always be how they're 'supposed' to?" But rhetorical questions weren't getting the point across. "Makul, it seems we always had 'someone'. You lived at home all through undergrad. Your parents did everything for you, and I…" "Are you starting in on my parents again? I still remember when you called me a Momma's Boy." You ARE a fucking Momma's Boy, but that's not the point. "No, Makul, this isn't about your parents. You went from your mother, um, your mother and father, to me. And I just can't, well just…" "Just what?" "Wait on you hand and foot anymore. And just dote on you the way they do. I'm losing my identity, what I want." "What about your painting? You love to paint." "I haven't touched a canvas in months. Did you even know that?" "No, how could I?" Gee, I don't know, ASKING, maybe? "No, you're right, you couldn't possibly know." "Then where did you go the other night?" "I just drove around. I was upset. You DID know that, didn't you?" "Yes." "And we couldn't even talk about it. All weekend you were so fixated on this training." "It means so much to me to run in this race. It's a dream." "Exactly. It's your dream." "And yours, too, right?" "Makul, I could run in this race, sore knee and all. But you know what? I'm already in the best shape of my life. And yeah, it was fun for a while, even exhilirating. I loved the challenge of pushing myself." "We must always strive to be our best at everything. The race is two weeks away. Why would you quit now?" "I can't believe we're talking about RUNNING. AGAIN!" Lelanni closed her eyes for a moment. "Listen, you seem to have something to prove. I don't. I may run in the race, I might not. But that's just part of it. You're not really hearing what I'm saying." "You're saying you don't really want to run in the race. That's too bad. I don't think I could do it without you." Lelanni gazed at the ceiling, exasperated. She managed to calm herself yet again. "Makul, you know that's not so. You're a brilliant runner like I told you before. A gifted athlete. You've been running these races longer than you've known me." "But never a marathon." "I think you'll do just fine." Lelanni paused. "Makul, I think I need some time." "Some time for what?" "For me. To figure things out. I'm not sure what I want right now." "I can get you anything you want." Lelanni shook her head, feeling a slight twinge in the middle of her chest. "I'm not so sure you can, Makul," she said softly. "But I've always given you…" "No you haven't…and I've swallowed a lot from you. I need a break right now." Makul's eyes got wide. "You want to break up with me??" "I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is I need some time." Lelanni squeezed the back of her neck, willing the anger inside to subside. "We both need some time. You have to see it's not really working right now. And I think part of it is, we both need to find our way a bit." "How can you break up with me? I'm in the middle of school right now! What will…" "What will your mother think?" Lelanni finished for him. She'll get over it. Then she'll hand pick someone for you to look after you. "You need to stop worrying about what people think, Makul. There are things I'd like to do right now. For me. I need to go it alone for a while. Figure out what I want." "You can't do that with me?" "No, but after a while you'll understand, believe me." "But what about…?" "What about what? Your food? Your errands? Your laundry?" Lelanni felt her cheeks flush. "As I said, you'll understand. You might even get some satisfaction from figuring out some of that stuff yourself." "I don't want to lose you." You lost me a long time ago. I just didn't see it. "As I said, some time apart will do us both some good." "Why are you telling me this now?" "It just couldn't wait any longer." "But I have a class right now." Lelanni paused. "Exactly. You have your school. You have your running. I need to tend to my stuff right now." "Can we talk later?" After you debrief Mommy? "Give me a few days, Makul. Please. I don't ask you for anything. I think you can at least do that." "I'm disappointed." "I'm sorry you're disappointed, Makul. But that won't change anything." "I really need to go. Why can't we talk later?" "We can. As long as 'later' is a few days." "If that's the way you want it." Makul slung his backpack over his shoulder, just then realizing he'd not prepared for his class. "I don't know how I'm going to get through this class today." "You'll figure it out." "I suppose, what choice do I have?" On this one, babe, you don't have much choice, Lelanni thought. ******************** "Cheers," Will said, raising his glass to his lips. Lelanni looked at the lines in his forehead, feeling as though she was being analyzed. "What are you thinking?" she asked. "How beautiful you are." Lelanni smiled, "Thanks. And I know you really mean that. You make me feel beautiful. But I don't think that's what you were thinking." "It feels great to be here. Sitting here with you. To be honest, I couldn't have imagined a woman as, well, great as you would want to be with me." "I'm not so great, believe me. And don't sell yourself so short. It's not that much of a shocker and besides," Lelanni took a gulp from her glass, "I don't think that's what you were thinking, either." "I like you, Lelanni. I want to know you more. It's just," Will paused, "it's just I don't want to be catching you at a bad time. I don't want…" Will fixed his eyes on his glass, willing it not to tremble in his hands. Shit, I don't think Parkinson's is contagious! he thought. "I'm not using you, Will. If I wanted to fuck my way out of my relationship, that's easily done. A few days ago, I was afraid that's what I was going to do." "I guess some guy didn't know how lucky he was about to be." "I sure he didn't..." Lelanni placed her drink on the coffee table and her hand on his thigh. She rubbed it hard, feeling the tension in his muscle. "But I didn't want to be with you for the wrong reason." "Me? But yesterday you…" "Over the weekend I thought about it long and hard. My relationship…PARADISE, I think was your word," she said, nearly spitting out the word, "…was over long ago. It's one of, I don't know, utility. Convenience." She shook her head. "Not even friendship." She took Will's hands in hers. "Don't get this wrong, because I know how you guys are about the 'friend' word, but I really value your friendship." "I understand, and I'm glad you do. But I hope you know I want much more." "I know you do. I want more, too. And I'm not just talking about…" They both turned a little red at the same time but for different reasons. "…I know you're not. But about that…" "I thought I told you to hush! It's not the point. I want more as I said. But I also need to pace myself. I've learned something about that training the last couple months." "So what were you thinking yesterday, then?" "I wasn't thinking at all." "Not about…" "Not about anything. Or anybody." She cocked her head to the side and smirked. "Except a big, sexy guy. Oh, and of course how badly my knee hurt!" Will tightened his lips and almost scowled. "What else?" "What else what?" he asked. "What else are you thinking?" "The heart can be a fragile thing," Will said suddenly. "Maybe mine's taken a hit or two too many. I don't want to…" "…take a fatal hit?" "Something like that. Do you smell something burning?" "The sauce. Shit!" "Allow me." Will got up and walked to the stove, grabbing the wooden spoon. The sauce was bubbling rapidly as he turned the heat all the way down. He gave the pot a quick stir, mixing in the bits that had begun to stick to the bottom. "It's fine. Heat was just a little too high." "Well, come on back in here, then. Thanks, you're my hero!" "Yeah, right." Lelanni stood as he returned, pressing her body fully against his. "You said you like this music. Would you like to dance with me?" Will smiled at her, fitting his arms neatly into the curves of her waist. "Actually, I don't really like the music…" "…I said we could change it." "…and I'm a really shit dancer." Will bent down and kissed her firmly. "But I really like how that feels." "So do I." She stroked his face. "I won't hurt you." "I know you can't promise that. But I believe that you mean it." "I don't know where this might all lead." "I don't think we have to. There's no rush. After all," he grinned, "it's not a sprint…" "…it's a marathon!" they said together. Lelanni put her finger to his nose. "You're cute. Cuddly, too," she wrapped her arms around him, barely clasping her hands together. She wisely avoided any comparisons, at least out loud, as Makul suddenly seemed so scrawny to her. "So what are you thinking now?" "You like that question." "And I like the answers to it," she insisted. "Hmmm?" "I wasn't thinking at all." With one motion Will reached down and put one arm behind her knees. He lifted her up to him with ease. "So I can see you better, my dear." "I like it up here. You taking me somewhere?" Without a word, Will sat back in the couch with Lelanni in his lap. "Let's just stay here awhile." "But the sauce'll burn." "I'll show you burn." Lelanni backed away and turned her head ever so slightly. "You don't seem so afraid of me right now. Or quite as n-n-nervous?" she teased. "What's gotten into you?" I dunno. I jerked off before I came over. In the shower! Also popped a Paxil from an old prescription. That probably didn't do any good but it probably didn't hurt, either. "Must be all the honesty. No games. I hate those." "Me too. But I gotta admit…" Lelanni touched Will's lips with her finger. "…I kinda miss the stutter." She bit her lower lip. "Made a girl feel, I don't know, really special." "I miss the stutter, too. But not as much as the tears." "Tears?" Lelanni's eyebrows furrowed. Then she realized what he meant. "What tears?" she repeated, protesting. "You're not talking about me, are you? I wasn't crying." "Well, not bawling, no. But I could feel it." "I was NOT. I…" "It's OK. Really." Will cupped her face gently with his hands. "Not such a Badass Warrior Princess after all, are we?" Lelanni's shoulders drooped as she pouted her lips in surrender. "No. Maybe not. But I hate that you saw that side of me." "Do you really?" "I don't like for people to know they can get to me." "I get to you?" "I didn't say that." "No, I suppose you didn't." Her pout was irresistable, and Will gave it a tender kiss. "But you get to me." "Thanks. It's nice to hear that." "Nice to say it, too." Will clutched her, and Lelanni felt safe in his embrace. "I'm sure you're hungry," Lelanni said moving to get up off his lap, but finding herself going nowhere. "I know I am," Will said, with a mischevious grin. She felt the lump of his erection against her ass. "Famished, actually." Marathon Girl Lelanni made no move to wriggle free. "Didn't we just have a whole…" She shook her head and her hands, "…it's-a-marathon-not-a-sprint discussion?" "Yes we did," Will said. "But I am starting to worry about the perils of overanalyzing." "Well, I suppose we couldn't have that now," Lelanni said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Could we?" She unbuttoned Will's shirt and ran her fingers through the hairs on his broad chest. "I love this chest," she said, leaning down to kiss it. "Smells so good." "My turn." "For what?" "To run my fingers through the hairs on your chest." Lelanni grinned and rolled her eyes as she pulled her tanktop over her head. Her lace bra had a glasp in the front, which Will had undone before the tanktop hit the floor. "Sorry, no hair." "Too bad, with me being such a homo and all." "We could have the spaghetti now, then." "I'll pass." Will drew her breasts to his lips, taking one in his mouth while pressing the other to his cheek. "I could get lost in these." "Go ahead," Lelanni sighed. "And I won't bother looking for you either. I love the way your mouth feels on them." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Don't neglect the other one." Will happily complied, tweaking the other nipple between his teeth, making it hard. Her breasts rose and fell as her breathing became heavier. She pushed them together, trapping Will's face between them. "Still lost?" "Mmmm, hmmm," came the reply. She enjoyed the humming against her skin. She traced little circles in Will's hair as he continued to explore her, her fingernails gently scratching the back of his head. The scratching turned to digging as Will continued sucking on her tits, now swollen with her large nipples fully erect. "Ouch," he said with a laugh. "Omygosh, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" "No, not really," Will said, removing his shirt completely and tossing it next to the crumpled tank top. "Come lay down on me. This is a lot longer than the couch we were on yesterday." Lelanni nestled on top of Will, who was laying on his back with his hands slid between her skirt and her panties. She pressed herself against his erection, aching for any feel of his cock. The last track of the Norah Jones CD ended. "Glad that's over," he said. "She was really getting me down." "It doesn't appear that way," Lelanni countered. "And you can keep playing with my ass if you want to." Will unzipped her skirt and Lelanni raised herself so he could pull it down and off her long legs. The skirt caught on her foot and so she flicked it off. "Oops!" Will laughed as he pushed the skirt off his face. "They smell nice. But I'm sure the panties smell even better." In an instant Lelanni bounced off the sofa and dropped her lace panties to her ankles. "I think I can aim better from here," she said, which she could, foot tossing the undies into Will's face. "Cover your eyes with them. I have some work to do," she said, as she undid his belt and deftly peeled his pants and boxers off. "That's better," she went on, fixating on his throbbing erection, but also admiring Will's narrow, muscular waist that made his chest and shoulders seem that much broader. His ivory skin contrasted with her darker complexion, and she imagined being tickled by the curly hair that covered his torso, arms, and legs. "You can look now," she said with a grin, one hand on her hip and her breasts stuck out. She gave him a small wave. "Hi!" "I'm dying for you," Will managed, jaw dropped and eyes wide open. "I know you are," she said, without an ounce of conceit. "So am I. Not quite yet, though." Lelanni climbed back on the sofa, draping her legs over Will's and arching backwards. "I get the impression you're a bit of a…um…masturbation expert?" She giggled when she said the word, unable to think of a better one at the moment. "Well, I suppose I have. Especially when I'm inspired." "I'd like to see it. Play with him. I want to watch you stroke him." "And what will you be doing?" "Well, pretty much the same thing." Thanks to the Makul Rule, Lelanni had become quite the expert herself. She traced the inside of her thighs with her finger as she watched Will stroke his cock. As she watched his shaft stiffen, she fingered her pussy, sliding two fingers in and out as she felt herself getting wet. "I want to taste your fingers," Will said. Lelanni leaned forward, and Will met her halfway, closing his mouth around her index and middle fingers and savoring her juices on his tongue. "I wanted a taste before you dabbed some on your cheek," he said with a smile. Lelanni didn't respond, hardly in the the mood for wisecracks at this point. "I like the way you sucked my tits, sucked my fingers. Put your mouth on mine. And keep playing with him," she said, scrunching up so close her pussy rubbed against his balls. She gave him a hungry kiss, locking her lips against his so she could barely breathe. Will put both arms around her but she protested. "Keep your hands on him," she insisted, leaning forward so that her nipples teased his chest. "Touch me." Will teased her at first. "Harder than that," Lelanni commanded, trying to keep her ass in place as her pussy became more sensitive to his touch. "Mmmm, that's more like it," she purred, as Will rubbed her clit. "You're still stroking yourself, right?" "Of course I am," he lied. But he quickly settled into a rhythm of up and down on his cock with one hand as he rubbed her clit harder with the other. He leaned up and put his mouth around a nipple, as goosebumps rose on her breasts. "It feels so…yes…it feels so good," she moaned, closing her eyes as a wave of pleasure came over her. Will paused as she collapsed on top of him, mushing her breasts against his chest. "I want to be inside you." "I want you inside me," she said at just the same time. "I can't take it any more." "As you wish," Will said, teasing her pussy with the head of his dick. "I want ALL of it! God, fuck me with that huge cock." Lelanni gasped as Will slid his dick easily inside her soaked pussy. She sat up and arched her back, pushing and holding her hair off her face as she rode him. Will gazed up at her, thrusting himself inside her, eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced wildly. "You are fucking gorgeous!" he practically yelled. "I'll fuck you all night!" "You…bet…you…will," came the reply. "I've been dying for a hard dick," she managed to say. Will grabbed her ass and bounced her harder. She was unable to catch her breath, but smiled broadly at him as their eyes met. "You're a beautiful man. Oh that's so good. Are you about to come?" "No." "Good. Fuck me harder. Faster!" she screamed, as another orgasm made her shudder. "You make me come hard." "I want to make you come." "You DO! Oh my…god." Lelanni winced and clenched her teeth. Will felt her pussy twitch and grab his cock. "I love that tight pussy around my dick." "I'll wear it out," she said. "Go for it," he said, staring right through her. Despite feeling a bit worn down, Lelanni rode his cock, slowing down to a tease before riding it faster. "That's the way I like it." "It is, huh?" "Yes, yes, oh shit." "Yeah?" "Oh…yes. I'm gonna…" Will lifted his ass as his penis stiffened, squirting a load of semen inside her. "It's so warm," Lelanni said, moaning. "Ouch!" she said, feeling a twinge in her knee. "You're so good," Will said. "You don't know how badly I wanted you. You OK?" "I'm fine. Bent my knee kinda funny." "Oh, I'm sorry." "I'll live," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder and searched for his feet with her toes. "That was wonderful." "I agree. What was that?" Will asked as a clank come from the kitchen. "I think the sauce just boiled over again." "Let me go have a look," he said, trying to sit up. "No," Lelanni said, clutching his neck. "Stay right here. I don't want you to move." "Ever?" "Never." She buried her face in his neck, feeling tears begin to well up. But she made no effort to hide them as she swallowed and looked back up at Will, who was gently stroking her hair. "Guess you get a glimpse of the real me," she said meekly. "I like the real you." "I won't do this every time." "It's OK if you do. But next time…" "What?" "Make sure you turn the stove off." Lelanni laughed as she wiped a tear from her cheek. "How was I supposed to know?" "You knew." "Yeah. I suppose I did." "We still have the salad." "And the number to Domino's. Stay with me tonight?" "I was hoping you'd ask." "I'm tired of feeling alone, and besides," she paused, "someone's gotta clean up that mess in the kitchen!" Will gave her bottom a playful whack. "Sounds like a two-person job. Let's do it together." "Together," Lelanni beamed, "I think I like the sound of that!" "Before you get up, though…" Lelanni looked down at Will's crotch. "You don't mean to tell me you're…" "Well, no," Will smiled. "At least not yet. Prop your knee up and let me have a look." "I'm not sure I can trust your professional opinion. You ARE naked, after all." Will probed her knee with his fingers. "Does this hurt?" "No. But I think it's turning me on again." "Cute. How about this?" he asked, poking his finger directly into her kneecap. The slight wince answered the question. "That scab from your fall healed up nicely. But you may have a touch of tendinitis. I'm not going to tell you NOT to run in that race, but if you decide you want to, just have somebody…" Will looked directly at Lelanni. "…somebody ELSE have a look." Lelanni stared over Will's shoulder for the second time that evening, saying nothing, jumping when she heard another clank from the kitchen. "I'm not sure I want to see what's going on in there," she said. "Let me go survey the damage." Will popped up off the couch and ran into the kitchen to turn off the heat. "Hmm, not sure you do either." "That bad?" "Not great, let's just say that." When he returned to Lelanni he draped his hands on both her shoulders, cocking his head to get her attention. "What is it?" "Oh, I just wanted to get another look at you!" "Beats the mess in the kitchen." "By a long shot." He leaned over and kissed her lips softly. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "What drives someone to run every day just to prepare for 26 miles of torture?" Lelanni's eyes twinkled. "Oh, it's that sense of accomplishing. I love that! Especially when you find yourself dragging for a while and all of a sudden…all of a sudden, boom, you feel like you can run forever." "You ever get that, what is it, runner's high?" "I'm not sure." Lelanni laughed. "I guess that probably means no." She shrugged her shoulders and bent her knee to stretch it out. "I don't want to think about it tonight." She caressed Will's hair and mussed it up. "Especially not with a big, sexy naked guy in front of me!" "Probably a good idea. Now about that mess you've got in the kitchen..." "You said you'd help!" "Yeah, I guess I did. Where do you keep those quicker picker uppers?" What do you think? Should Lelanni run in the race or not? Please vote and comment. Marathon Girl Ch. 02 My husband did a decent enough job in his earlier story, but I have to clear a few things up: First, I hardly ever smoke pot anymore ... and I can't believe he saw fit to begin his freakin' story by talking about me like I'm Cheech and Chong's little sister. Secondly, and most importantly, maybe, I can't attribute my surge in sex drive to my dropping out of competitive running. In fact, I don't feel like I changed much at all, even if I can see why he would think that. I've always had nasty thoughts and desires ... maybe it all became more obvious when I started hanging around the house a lot more. I know you don't care about much of that stuff, but I felt like I had to set the record straight. As E. told you, yes, I became a touch slutty about nine or ten years into our marriage. This basically meant that yes, I slept with other men ... but, again, never without E.'s knowledge and permission ... and with much fun between us afterwards. We were having a blast with it, in fact, until somebody came between us. Her name was Renee. I worked with her. ***** E. never liked Renee. I think it's because they're so much alike but he says it's because she thinks she's god's gift to man. He may have a point. She's not a bombshell, so much. She'll be the first to tell you that her butt's too big and she dresses a little sloppy ... but she's got a really cute face, nice hair and really big boobs that haven't drooped a notch in the eight years I've known her. I'll admit now, I'm jealous of the tits. I have practically none (although another side effect of the no-longer-running-marathons thing is I've put on a little body fat, and my boobs are a little bit larger than they were before). She's also a little loud and tells great stories ... a perfect after-work Happy Hour buddy who'll stay out as long as you want to. We drink together. We smoke together. We occasionally do drugs together. But there was definitely a wall between us ... we were social friends, not intimates (in any form of that word). That changed, however, the day she found what she found. ***** Once my leg had healed up fully (or as good as it's going to), I managed to channel a little bit of my energy into cycling. Lower impact and all. But even that provided its challenges, because the seat – after all – is a damned phallus rubbing between your thighs for 20 miles. Or is that just me? Anyway, it had been quite a while since I'd taken a lover, but I'd had one picked out for awhile. He was a friend of one of the guys I'd done earlier ... a shy, but sharp-eyed fellow named Rick. I'd begun to steer clear of taking the guys to my office to fuck – that's just dangerous and, I'll admit it now, stupid as hell. But, when he showed up to pick me up from work at the arranged time, Mr. "Shy" turned animal ... forcing me inside and barely giving me time to slip a rubber on his cock (which I remember had a very nice curve to it ... it tagged me at just the right spot) before we were going at it in the conference room. Between his curvy cock and the amount of time since I'd had a guy on the side, we didn't get out of there until after 10, and I was eager to get home to E. and his straighter (and much larger) dick. And in all the craziness, I kinda forgot something. ***** "You locked up last night, didn't you Bon?" Renee spoke from my doorway, behind me. I was up on a stool with my back to the door. "Sure did," I replied, putting reports onto shelves behind my desk. "How about that." She sounded dubious. "Why?" Renee was always going off on weird tangents, so I wasn't really all that concerned yet. She was silent until I turned around. "What?" I repeated. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she slid something across the table to me. She lifted her hand. It was a bright blue condom wrapper. Torn open. I made a face. Then I snatched it up as quickly as possible. I couldn't have looked more guilty if I tried. "Somebody's got some ‘splainin' to do," she whispered at me. "It's really not what it looks like," I started, with no concept as to what it might actually be, other than what it looked like, which was exactly what it was. She made an "o" with her mouth. "Y'know what it looks like? It looks like a condom left behind by my very married co-worker whose husband, I know, has had a vascectomy." (Damn, I got a big mouth, I thought to myself.) I didn't say a word. She leaned in, conspiratorially. "You're just lucky I found it and not somebody else. Was it with someone who works here?" I waved her off. "It's really not ..." "Fine, you don't want to talk here. I can live with that. Finish up work early, though. We're having lunch. A long lunch. And I'm gonna need details." She left and I fell into my seat with a thump. What was I gonna do? ***** Three hours and two margaritas later, and I was slowly making my way through the whole, bizarre thing. She sat, open-mouthed, as I described what had become ... for lack of a better word ... our marital "lifestyle" over the past few years. "I ain't judging," she said, reaching for her drink. "I'm just amazed. You so totally don't look the type. It's like finding out your good friend is Spider-Girl or something like that." She popped a nacho chip in her mouth and chewed it, regarding me. "Wow." I relaxed a little, finally. I'd had a lump in my belly since she'd showed me the wrapper, and ... while I was reasonably sure she wouldn't bust me out to the boss ... I was afraid it would just get really uncomfortable between us. But here she was, joking it off. I was happy about it. I even decided to stop kicking myself for fucking up in the first place. "And E.'s cool with this?" She asked at length. I grinned slyly. "He gets off on it. He won't admit it ... claims it's all for me ... but he gets pretty revved up by the time I come home to him." I sipped some more margarita. They made ‘em strong at this place. "Honestly, one of my favorite parts of all this is coming home to him. He's like a puppy." Another shake of her head. "I still can't believe you're telling me this. And he is totally not the type to put up with this sort of thing, let alone get off on it." I laughed. "You really don't know him very well. He's a true perv." "Does he fuck around?" I looked around quickly. It was loud enough that nobody could hear us, but her voice had spiked a bit. We both giggled as we realized nobody caught what she had said. "No. Not that I'm aware of, anyway. I'm sure he's not." "Does he want to?" "He hasn't mentioned it to me." "Wouldja let him if he asked?" I pondered this. As amazing as it may seem, it had never occurred to me. "I suppose I'd be one hell of a hypocrite if I said no, wouldn't I be?" She considered this while she nibbled on a swizzle stick. "Is that a yes?" "I don't have to answer until he asks me ..." I grinned. "Sounds like someone's not too sure of herself," she said in a sing-song voice. "I guess I'd let him. But, y'know, it's really not about the sex." "It's not?" I shook my head. "No, it's about the intimacy. I can tell him anything and he can tell me anything ... I mean ... we've proven that, haven't we?" She mulled that for a few moments while the waitress came over and we asked for refills. "So you can tell him anything?" "I think so, yeah." "You've told him everything about your past?" "Yeah. I, well, you mean, like what?" "Like I have no idea. All the things you did before you met him?" "Everything he's asked about," I said. "Interesting answer," she said with a wry twist to the lip. I turned my attention to the restaurant as a whole, people watching. She spoke up again. "So what's the biggest secret you've never told him?" My eyes moved right back to her. "What?" "Sexually. Your biggest secret he doesn't know." "I can't tell you that!" She shrugged her shoulders. "What? I already know you're banging college guys in the office copy room after hours with your husband's blessing and I haven't judged you, have I?" My head was swimming a bit. The tequila was going straight to my brain. "Well, there was this one thing. But it's stupid." "What?" She asked. "I mean, it's something he'd probably even want to know ... I just haven't figured out the right way to tell him." "Oh, man. This is gonna be great," she laughed and finished off her drink. "Spill it, ho!" I laughed. "Well, back when I was in college, before I met him ... and a couple times in high school ... I, well, I used to get with women occasionally." She raised her eyebrows? "That's your big secret? Honey, compared to bangin' dudes with your hubby's permission ... that's not even an issue. What's college for if it's not for hoppin' into bed with another girl once or twice." The waitress arrived in mid-sentence and dropped off the drinks. She apparently overheard. "I hear that, sister," she said sweetly. "Anything else I can get you?" Renee – to my eye – gave the girl the once over before saying, "Not right now, but check back, okay?" Once she was gone, she turned back to me. "And you can't tell him ... why?" I dove into the new drink. "Because when we started dating, I made it extremely clear to him that I wasn't into girls. I told him I'd never done anything ... hadn't even kissed one." "And these were lies." "Oh, hell yes." "Hmm. Why'd you lie?" "Cuz we were just getting started and he seemed kind of conservative at the time. He was older, too. And ... and this is true ... I was an athlete in college. I ran track. And everybody has this stereotype about female athletes and I wanted to make sure he knew I was into guys, hard-core. Maybe I overcompensated." She chuckled. "Perhaps you did." "I don't know. It just carried over." I reflected a moment. "Y'know, the first time he rented a porn he fast-forwarded through all the lesbo scenes? Because I'd told him I wasn't into them. I suppose I could've told him the truth, then, but it was so sweet." "The sweetness of editing porno scenes, I see," she shook her head sadly. "You know what I mean. It just, sort of, snowballed." "You're bizarre, you really are. I think I have a newfound respect for you." We drank and snacked on chips in silence for a few moments. I really was feeling the tequila (when it comes to booze, I'm a lightweight). My mind was wandering back to the old days ... "You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" She snapped me out of my reflection. My cheeks burned. I knew I was blushing. "Damn, I must've hit close to a nerve! I was just playin' with you." She took a swallow of gin. "She must've been really something." In point of fact, she had been. "Yeah, I guess," I was grinning like a girl describing her prom date. "I can't believe I haven't thought about her in so many years." A moment's silence. "Well, you gonna share?" Why stop there? I wondered to myself. "Well, I was a freshman, she was a sophomore ..." ***** Her name was Violet, she was on my track team and we hit it off right from the start. She was funny, and creative, and smart, and all the things a freshman feels she's not. And cute. Gawd, yes, cute as a button, in a real girl-next-door sort of way. She wore her hair on the short side, but it tied up in a pony tail when the situation demanded it. It was light brown. Her eyes were a dazzling brown with long, curly lashes that didn't need mascara. And her mouth, seemingly in a perpetual smirk, had full, kissable lips. I noticed these things right from the start. I'm not sure, in retrospect, how I processed those sorts of feelings back then ... I recall being a little jealous ... insecure ... even put off right at the start. I'd made out with girlfriends a few times in high school, but I'd always rationalized that as substitutes for boys, a sort of training for when boys weren't around. The concept of bisexuality, or even of lesbianism, was one I was aware of intellectually ... but was something that happened far from my life, like in France or San Francisco. It wouldn't be long before I'd be able to admit to myself to having little girl-crushes from time to time, but at that point, it was an uncomfortable leap. Luckily, Violet was much cooler than I. She made jokes with me (not at me). She gave me tips on running and even what to do the night before a big meet. As much as the coach, she taught me what it meant to run competitively on the college level. But, more than that, we laughed together. We shared a sick sense of humor that, frankly, not everyone on the team appreciated. Before long, we would be the ones sitting together on the bus during rides ... or even next to each other on the plane when the occasion called for longer trips. And yes, we roomed together. (Totally platonically in the early stages ... although I can remember my heart literally jumping one time when she pulled her shirt off while preparing for a shower. Since I'd seen her impossibly perfect body naked before, in betweens stalls after practice and meets, this was different. We were alone in the same room and, well, it was more intimate, I guess.) One day Violet started a running joke, asking me in a group of friends and teammates if I wanted to be "track dykes" with her. "You know it, baby," I said, cuddling close, and she wrapped her arms around me, smooching air near my left cheek. We laughed. Teammates laughed. Even some of our friends who were affirmed lesbians laughed. It was funny, I guess, for some reason. It was so funny, my panties even got a little damp, as I remember. That little ongoing joke continued at every practice, meet and social event with the team until the last month of the season. It might've started some sort of rumor if not for the fact we were so silly about it ... and the fact both Violet and myself had boyfriends back home who were more or less well-known by other members of the team. Even after it stopped being funny, I enjoyed it. Violet would sometimes adopt her "dyke" voice (basically dropping her vocal range an octave or so) and compliment something I was wearing, or how the jeans made my butt look. I'd say thanks and we'd giggle about it, but it actually gave me a warm feeling. I enjoyed her approval. By that time, I had to admit I was attracted to her. But I don't recall worrying about it. After all, what could happen with it? ***** We were in a major southern city for a major meet ... one I wasn't scheduled to compete in and Violet wasn't up for anything for another day or so. So, a bunch of us "scrubs" holed up in one hotel room until late into the night, dodging curfew and throwing back shots from a bottle of whiskey someone had brought with them. We told dumb stories. We told dumb jokes. We got too loud and then shushed ourselves, then laughed loudly again. It was a blast. Six underclassmen getting shit-faced on a bottle of whiskey. Violet surprised me by being the first to want to go. "Okay girls, I'm outta here," she said, standing and stretching that gloriously tight body of hers. I suspect I was drunk enough to ogle openly, but I don't think anybody noticed. "Yeah, I better head up, too." Our teammates called us pansies and lightweights, but they were even drunker than we were and I suspected they be asleep, too, soon. In the hall, Violet weaved a bit. Must be drunker than I thought. "You better be careful," I whispered. "If anyone finds you drunk, you're not running Friday." She giggled and draped an arm around my waist. "Steady me, then." She turned her face to me as I was about to retort, and her closeness flustered me to muteness. I could feel her grinning at me. That smirk I found so appealing. I fumbled with the key until I got the room unlocked, then we staggered in. For a second, I thought were were in the clear, but Violet stumbled suddenly without warning. Her arm around my waist drew tight and I grabbed at her in a valiant, if doomed, attempt to stabilize her. I tripped over her ankle and staggered myself. We reached the side of the bed and she flopped down, hard, onto the mattress. Her arm was still around me, and she pulled me over her, across her body, onto the floral-print bedspread. She giggled. I sensed a competition now and rolled her with my shoulder, flipping her onto her back near the far edge of the mattress. I looked up, triumphantly on top now, a grin of victory beginning to form on my lips. It faded. Our faces were inches apart. "Wanna be track dykes?" she asked me soberly, her voice a touch husky. I didn't answer. I just leaned forward a little and kissed her lips tenderly. Then our mouths opened, and "tenderly" vanished from the room. ***** Two things happened that night. The first was I broke the last two, unofficial "codes" I'd kept since the first time I made out with a girl in eighth grade. Others had been broken before, as fast as they'd come up, usually: I'd kiss a girl, but no tongue; OK, tongue, but no feeling my tits; OK, I'd let her feel my tits, but only above my shirt; OK, I'd let her feel my tits any way she liked, but I wouldn't feel hers, above or below her shirt; OK, but not beneath the bra, no bare skin; OK, we'd take our shirts and bras off, but the jeans stay on; jeans stay on, but we can let the fly down ... etc., etc. You get the point. The last two I had any intention of honoring: I would never let a girl eat my pussy and I'd never eat hers. But Violet proved to post wonderfully convincing argument to let those rules go, too. Point of fact, she could've done just about anything to me that night and I wouldn't have protested a hair. By the time we'd finished our initial make-out session, we were both entirely nude (although I don't recall either one of us disrobing) and my head was so thick with alcohol and lust no rational thoughts could get in. Because – and this is the second significant thing about that night – Violet became the first person to really make me feel like she was all about fucking ME. I'd had sex with four boys to that point, and they all – even my then-current boyfriend – seemed more intent upon the act than about doing it with me. I mean, I'm sure they had feelings for me ... three of them, at any rate ... but with guys that age, you get the impression they're just excited that a girl agreed to do anything with them. They seem more intent upon, I don't know, not cumming too fast or something, and they always seem sort of distracted. But Violet ... she grabbed me, kissed me, fondled me, penetrated me as if it were me she wanted, me she had fantasized about, me she desired more than anyone else in the world. She looked me in the eye. She studied my body (before attacking it). She said my name so sweetly, yet with a vulgar backspin. I'd never felt so special, so wanted, until later when I met E. And when she finished sucking (and biting) my nipples ... when she finished bringing me to climax with her fingers, knuckles and hands ... when she began drifting in a deliberate and steady manner lower on my abdomen, I spread my legs wider and waited, a little impatiently, for her to lay her mouth directly on me. And when she did, I felt the room expand and contract at the same time. I felt hot breath down there ... a tongue of compressed steam ... a tongue with an inherent knowledge of just where to apply pressure and just where to back off. I felt exhilaration like I'd never felt before. I felt a sharp jolt of something not painful, but not entirely pleasurable, either. After I'd cum again, I gobbled up her body greedily, shedding inhibitions as quickly as I could work my way to her own glorious pussy. She spread for me, that fantastic smirk rising like a moon above her prone body. The only thought I had was a mild concern I might somehow disappoint her. Then I ran a finger down her slit and heard a sharp intake of breath from above. Marathon Girl Ch. 02 I had her. I knew right then what to do. I knew where to rub ... when to splay the folds of her pussy back to expose exotic sweetmeats ... how to work the tip of her wonderfully hooded clit into my mouth and rub it with my tongue ... how to roll a finger up inside her while I stroked the clit with my other hand ... It was like I'd known it all along. But she had one more thing to teach me. ***** How long this had all gone on, I couldn't tell then and I damned sure can't tell now. But once I'd brought her off for what felt like the third time, she sat up like a shot ... a lost look in her eyes as she pulled my mouth to hers. The taste – whiskey mixed with our own juices – is something I can still remember ... perhaps the raunchiest blending of flavors I could ever imagine. Then she leaned me back, spreading me wide. I was a little sore at that point, and not sure if I could handle another going-over with her lips and tongue. But then she spread her own legs, mingling them with mine and pulling herself tight up against me. I stared, breathless. I'd never really even imagined such a thing. Then she grinned a little, twisted her hips ever so slightly, and our cunts were pressed against each other. Tightly. Then, still smiling, she braced herself and began rotating her hips in a tight circle. Soon, my body figured the rhythm and began grinding up against her. It wasn't long after that we were both seeing an entirely different, more intense set of sparks fly. ***** We held each other a long time after that. The next day, after we showered and brushed our teeth, we went about our day as normal ... no mention of the hours of Sapphic pleasure we'd enjoyed the night before. No winks, no nudges, no quick kisses. We were just gals, after all. That said, we did it twice more before the team returned to school. We did it about four times on road trips afterwards. Each pattern similar ... no mention of it, just joking friends until the door closed on our hotel room. Then, she'd approach me with that look in her eye – the look I didn't see anywhere else – and kiss me with a passion that staggered me. I actually longed for those trips sometimes. It ended badly, of course. My boyfriend came to visit me during a meet and I pretty much blew her off ... in a very immature, crude manner. I'd hurt her, but she bounced back. We remained friendly until the end of the season, friendly enough that I'd hoped we'd be able to take back up once indoor track season started. But she transferred to a smaller school closer to her hometown and I quickly lost touch with her. It wasn't until I was retelling the story to Renee that it occurred to me I still think of her anytime I taste whiskey. ***** Renee was staring at me, quite intently. The story had taken longer to tell than I'd thought it would. It had included much more detail than I'd had planned. We'd finished two more drinks. The place had largely emptied out. Renee was leaning her chin on her palm. I noticed her cleavage was accentuated when she did that. I had a lump in my throat. "Wow," Renee said weakly. I said nothing. I sipped margarita. It was warm. "Do they let you smoke in here?" I asked, my head feeling cloudy. "No ... no smoking," Renee said. "Oh." Renee raised a hand and hailed our curvy little waitress. "We should go somewhere where we can smoke," she said. "Check." ***** So, about fifteen minutes later we were at Renee's place. I was on the couch. She was straddling me and we were making out like homecoming dates. I loved her feel. She was soft all over, her lips big and inviting. She was a wicked French kisser and her hands knew just the right amount of twist to apply to each nipple. We were still fully clothed, though, and I was still trying to equate that to not having lost control of the situation. "I've wanted to do this so long," Renee was telling me, but I didn't care. I wanted that tongue back in my mouth, on my neck ... my nipples? My body purred with the suggestion, but I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn't part of the agreement. It was a violation of the rules ... E. deserved to know beforehand ... She popped my bra open and my second thoughts beat a hasty retreat. Just for a second, I told myself. Renee pulled my shirt up, exposing my breasts to the light of her apartment. The whole place smelled of lavender, which I don't typically care for but who gave a fuck? She raked that wicked tongue across one nipple, then the other, then painted swirls around the left one. I felt my panties flush. I moaned. Renee took that as encouragement and pulled me closer, cupping my breast with one hand and reaching around and tightening on my ass through my pants. We kissed again. That glorious tongue once more. Hot and wet. Renee broke just long enough to pull her sweater up and over her head. Her bra was black and entirely too small, her ample tits threatening to spill over the top of the fabric. I had to free them, right? The clasp was in front and I undid it, and her breasts spilled free, but didn't sag as much as I'd expected. A glorious pair. How had I NOT noticed all these years. I rolled my hands across her nipples, which were large but crowned with tiny nubs. I took one in my mouth and it rapidly became not so tiny. It was her turn to moan now. I liked the sound. I liked MAKING her make that sound. Still, that nagging voice in the back of my consciousness. This wasn't right. Renee shifted her hips (causing her thigh for one, electrical moment, to rub across my pussy ... I almost came right then), placed her hands under me and flopped me over on my back. She slid up my torso, those wonderful tits rubbing up against my, much smaller, pair. She kissed me again, harder. I was pressed back into the cushions. Her hands went low, unbuttoned my pants and started to tug on the fly. Abruptly, my conscience kicked in. I pushed her back, gently at first, harder as she resisted. I wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled it back. Then, with a force perhaps a notch or two beyond what was necessary, I pushed her to the side. She blinked dumbly, like a bomb blast survivor trying to figure out where their home had gone. "What's ... what's wrong ...?" "We can't," I told her evenly. I didn't want to make it sound, even a little, as if I could be talked into it ... because I clearly could've been. She rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. Then, "Are you serious?" "I am," I said, more quietly and softly this time. "It's not fair to E. If he clears it, no problem, but until then ..." Slowly, she propped herself up on an elbow, pulling a little closer. "I've got a telephone right over there ..." I hadn't thought of that, but I shook my head, anyway. "Not this ... I'm going to have to talk to him, face-to-face ..." Renee made a pained face and flopped back onto her back. Her nipples were still kinda moist from my saliva. "Don't think this isn't hard for me, either ..." I told her. "Yeah, I know," she said, and sounded earnest. "I just ... haven't wanted anyone this badly in a long, long time ..." I realized that's how I felt, too. I realized what the drive home would be like ... how could I have this conversation with E. half-drunk and wayyyyy horny like this? I'd have to pull off to the side and ... The idea suddenly crystallized in my imagination. "Okay ... okay," I started. Renee looked over, a little detached, but curious. "Okay, this is what we can do ..." I stood up, walked to the loveseat kitty-korner to her couch, pulled it around some, then stood up straight. "I can't touch you any more, okay? That'd be ... unfair." I finished the work Renee had started and slipped my pants off ... then my panties ... Renee's eyes almost bugged. "But I have to finish myself off, and ... well ... that's what I'm going to do and you can watch, help yourself out, or talk to me ..." I sat down, spread my legs wide, and dropped my right hand down to my upper thigh. My voice dropped to a rasper whisper. "Just don't get off that couch." For a second, I had no idea what she was going to do. But, then, slowly, she visibly warmed to the task. Within 30 seconds, we were both completely nude ... Renee sported a somewhat surprising Brazillian cut that made her pussy look even tastier. I focused on it as she began stroking herself. "This is so fucking wild," Renee said in her own harsh whisper. "I bet that pussy tastes fantastic," I told her, my index finger finding my clit. Renee rubbed her own index finger in between her folds and lifted it to her lips. "Mmmmm," she told me. Any plans we had to dirty talk then went out the window. I felt my body click into overdrive and then it was just a short, downhill ride to a magnificent, body-wide climax that seemed to last days. I think Renee was far closer than I was, and she started sooner, and seemed to finish later, too. Her body glistened with a light coat of sweat as she finally completed her task. "That wasn't ... bad," she finally stammered out. I nodded mildly, also breathing a little hard. "Not bad at all." We dressed. I had some coffee. We looked a little uncomfortable. Before I left, she stopped me. "So, you'll ask him?" I nodded. Suddenly it was a scarier idea than it had seemed before. "Soon?" She continued. "Tonight," I said, my voice a little dry. "Let me know what he says because, well, I really want to do this with you, y'know?" I nodded. I did know. We hugged, strangely a platonic clinch, and I went out to the car. I even cried a little, and I wasn't entirely sure why. ***** Not right away, but after a short time, E. forgave me. First I let go some of the bigger stuff I hadn't even told Renee about ... like how I'd violated the rules by seeing one of the boys three times. Once in a threesome E. had known about (only not that this particular guy was involved) and once when E. was out of town at a conference. I made it clear I hadn't seen the guy at all (despite opportunities) in over a year. E. was kinda pissed. I understood. He was, predictably, excited about my dalliances with my own gender. I told him about Violet and he loved that story, again, as you'd expect. When I told him what had happened between Renee and myself, he got really mad for the first time in a long time. I explained nothing serious had happened, just some petting and kissing (I left out the masturbation scene for the moment) and stressed I'd called it off before it went too far. "Renee? Why the hell does it have to be Renee?" I explained about the condom again, and just how we'd been drunk and ... He stalked off. He didn't want to hear it. And this time, when I cried, I knew exactly why. ***** E., as is his custom, came around in about an hour. We cuddled. We talked some more. He asked more details about my college exploits (I told him about a dean's wife I'd once hooked up with at a Christmas party.) That pushed him over the edge, and we fucked a good, long time. Make-up sex. Yum. Afterwards, we lay in the dark. My heart thudding lightly. "I can't let this go entirely, you know," he said then. My heart seized. "What do you mean?" "I mean ... I think we should put a stop to the men ... for, I dunno, until the end of the school year?" My heart resumed. I had a way out. "Is this my punishment?" "Consider it that if you like. I'm not into spankings." I rolled my ass in the sheets. "Too bad, master." "Stop it." "Okay, I accept my punishment." More silence. Then, I chimed in, "I notice you said ‘no men.' " "I did." "Women ..?" He sighed. "That's up to you ... except ... y'know ... not Renee, okay?" I was disappointed, but he was being way cool about this. I agreed. Then we made love again. ***** Renee took it like a champ, although I think it cannonballed any chance of her and E. ever getting along. She took a job with a rival company across town six months later and I hardly ever see her anymore. She looks good when I do, though. As for me, I served my guy-free sentence like a good girl ... helped out by the fact I placed an online personal (something I never thought I'd do) and met a series of really hot, really fun women. Mainly we just hang out, watch movies, maybe go dancing. Mainly. The rest of the time ... well ...