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Baggage

By: Albatross



Nancy jogged naked on the treadmill. 

She was miserably hot. Sweat beaded on every inch of her skin. Her bare feet were sore from thudding on the deck of the machine. Her breasts hurt slightly from the bouncing, but she did not stop. 

Across her bedroom, Nancy could see herself in the mirror. That same mirror had, twenty years ago, reflected the sexiest little body west of the Mississippi. Now, the reflection had changed somewhat. Her breasts were full and round, but were sagging just a bit. Her ass was a little too big. And her thighs, well, Nancy preferred not to think about her thighs. 

Nancy knew, logically, that the mirror still reflected a sexy body, especially for a woman her age. But all she could see was the young woman she was not - the young woman men had once worshipped. Their eyes used to stop on her, lingering on her form, undressing her. Now the looks passed her by, preferring to slide over to her daughter. And of course – why look at an aging mare when a beautiful filly pranced nearby?

Nancy turned the treadmill up a notch, increasing her pace, forcing her muscles to obey. Her breasts ached, her thighs burned, but she welcomed the pain. She knew the pain would keep her body supple, keep it young. And secretly, she was saving the pain, saving it for later. One day she’d catch a young man - the young clerk at the grocery store, or perhaps of the plumber’s assistant that sometimes came by. And then, when she’d snared him, and he wanted her like nothing else, she’d give him a little taste of her pain. 

Suddenly a funny image popped into her brain: with every footfall, she was trampling a young man’s naked body underfoot. Nancy laughed in between breaths. What a twisted thing to think! And yet, somehow, it made her feel better. So she turned the treadmill up another notch, and proceeded to trample her way across a sea of prone young men. 

~o~

The green Army trunk was heavy – too heavy for the plastic shelf it rested on. At some point the shelf would give, and the trunk would come crashing down. 

Becky thought about that every time she entered the old tool shed. Her mother often sent her in to get a shovel, or drag out the lawn mower, or get a box of old books out. And every time, Becky would skirt the creaky plastic shelves carefully.

But this time she forgot. 

She forgot about the heavy trunk for of a number of reasons. For one, she hadn’t been alone when she entered – a young man was with her. Also, after they slid the aluminum doors mostly shut, it was dark in the shed, and the trunk was lost in the gloom. Only a sliver of light cut through the darkness, illuminating a swirl of dust motes as the air was disturbed by the two people moving around. 

As for Andre, he had no idea the heavy trunk was a danger. He was just excited to be alone with his girl for once, away from people. Especially Becky’s mother – the woman they both jokingly called the ‘Old Maid’. 

For Andre, the term was only half in jest. He wasn’t sure, but there was something odd about Mrs. Wanek, some glint in her eye that made him feel uneasy. He didn’t like spending a lot of time around the woman, and had been wary when Becky suggested they play hooky from school and escape to the old shed on her property. 

But Becky had always wanted to fool around in the shed. There was something secret and sexy about the place. As a young girl, it had been her clubhouse, her playtime sanctuary. Now, as a young woman, it was prime for a different kind of play. 

Becky couldn’t see the young man in front of her, but she could feel him. His muscles were hard from a summer of work outdoors. She tugged at the buttons on his shirt, eager to feel his chest. She clawed at his belt, tugging his pants apart as she felt his rough lips press into hers. Soon, though she couldn’t see it, she knew a hard, naked male body was standing in front of her in the darkness of the shed. 

Rough hands came out of the dark and started to pull up her sun-dress. It was getting hot in the shed, and Becky wanted to be naked too. The thin material was already clinging to her sweaty skin as he tugged it up her body. She raised her arms, and the dress slipped off. She wore no bra, and moments later her soaked underwear were on the dusty floor.

Andre heard Becky’s underwear hit the floor, and a thrill went through him. Becky leaned in for a kiss and he felt his member brushing between her naked thighs. A little line of electricity seemed to be arcing between their genitals, pulling them inexorably together. 

Becky was wanton. She literally climbed onto Andre’s chest, wrapping her arms around his neck, throwing her legs around his waist. He grunted with the strain, and had to lean back to balance the weight. Then Andre lifted Becky up by the waist, letting her do the job of matching her wet opening to his stiff, probing length. 

The head slipped in. Becky gasped. Her breasts squeezed against his chest, nipples erect and on fire. Her legs clamped across his back, and she wiggled a little, working the cock into her. Then Andre eased her body down, impaling her.

The pleasure climbed up through Becky’s body. She leaned farther onto Andre, adjusting the angle. She found a nice position, one that tickled her deep inside, and she let out a sigh of lustful satisfaction. She felt as if she could have lingered there, deeply penetrated, hanging onto that male body all afternoon. 

But her own flesh had other ideas, and started to move of its own accord. Becky’s thighs flexed, rocking her pelvis up and down, inching Andre’s dick in and out of her pussy. Her sweat-slicked body slipped against his. The pleasure between her legs began to mount. 

As Becky humped him, Andre did all he could to maintain his balance. Cautiously, he felt around behind him for some sort of support. His hand found what felt like an old clothes washer. He reached behind and put both hands on it, taking some of the weight off his back. It was the perfect position – leaning back, Becky could get more leverage to move her hips. She finessed her motions, massaging the inside of her channel with each stroke.

And with each stroke, the washer behind Andre shook a little. And as the washer shook, the shelves behind it shook. 

And as the shelves shook, the heavy old trunk rocked back and forth. 

~o~

Nancy heard something. It sounded like a crash, followed by a voice calling out in pain. 

Her feet slowly thumped to a halt on the deck of the treadmill. She went to the window and peeked out through the curtains, down at the backyard. There was nothing to see. The strawberry patch, the green of the lawn, the old rusting swing-set. And beyond, miles of open field, dotted with a house or two. 

Then Nancy noticed the tool shed. The lock was off, and the doors were open slightly. Her paranoia crackled to life – was there a burglar inside? She always kept the shed locked and badgered Becky to do the same. 

Some women would have called the police, especially living so far from help. Nancy went straight for her dead husband’s baseball bat, which she kept under the bed. She pulled it out, wiped off a few cobwebs, and headed for the door, still naked and glistening with sweat. Almost as an afterthought, Nancy grabbed a cotton robe off the back of the bedroom door and tugged it on. 

She crept slowly down the stairs, holding the bat firmly in her hands. 

~o~

Becky tried again to lift the trunk, to no avail. It was just too heavy for her to budge.

“Do they hurt?” Becky asked, feeling in the dark for Andre’s hands. 

“They did when it fell. Now they just ache.” Andre said, grimacing. He tried again to free his hands, but in his awkward position – leaning backwards, arms extended behind him - the leverage was bad. The trunk kept his hands pinned to the washer, and tugging just made them hurt. 

Becky stepped nervously from foot to foot. The burning pleasure between her legs was fading, and a cold knot of fear was growing in her belly. What were they going to do? 

Andre was wondering the same thing. The fire was likewise draining from his organ. He hadn’t come, and his balls ached from the unreleased pressure. That was the least of his concerns now, though.

“If I knew the combination on the trunk, we could open it and empty it out.” Becky said. Unfortunately, not even her mother knew the combo on the old trunk anymore. Becky sighed, arriving at the only conclusion left. 

“I’m going to have to get help.” she said, looking at the sliver of light shining between the doors. She shuddered to think what her mother’s reaction would be if brought into the shed to help. The smell of sex was heavy in the air. In his position, Andre couldn’t get all his clothes back on. It would be all too clear what had been going on. 

Andre looked at the crack between the doors too, thinking of the light that would pour in on him if those doors were opened. He suddenly felt very vulnerable. He was afraid of who she’d have to bring back to help. Her mother, his brother, a fireman – dear lord, all unacceptable. He racked his brain. 

“No. Wait.” He said, having a flash. “All we need is a crowbar. You don’t have to be strong to use it – it’ll pry up the trunk just enough so I can pull my hands out.” 

Becky looked around. For being a tool shed, there were remarkably few tools in it. 

“I don’t think we-“ she started to say, but Andre cut her off.

“In my tool box, in the back of my truck.” Andre said. 

“But we brought my car. Your truck is…” Becky trailed off, picturing the little truck sitting in Andre’s driveway, far away. It would take time, but it seemed like the only real option. 

“Okay,” Becky said, nodding. “That’ll work.”

~o~

Bare feet padded across the grass in the back yard, making very little sound. 

Nancy hefted the bat in her hands, relishing its weight. She could only imagine the kind of damage she could do with such a heavy piece of wood. If she was lucky, the burglar was an young attractive man, and she’d have the pleasure of spoiling his good looks. 

She carefully skirted the area in front of the shed, avoiding the doors and the dark slit between them. Nancy minced up to the side of the aluminum structure and listened.

There was some rustling inside. Nancy wished she could peek in somehow. She looked around at the metal wall in front of her and discovered a series of small screw-holes at the base. They were tiny, but Nancy kneeled down in the grass and put her eye up to one, to see what she could see. 

A body moved in and out of the light. Nancy caught a glimpse of the face and realized it was Becky! What was she doing home from school? Nancy was about to get up and accost her, when she saw another body in the shadows. It was a male body, and it was naked. Her eye now glued to the hole, Nancy scanned the rest of the scene. She saw the fallen trunk, spotted Becky’s underwear in a heap on the concrete floor, and put the pieces together.

Nancy seethed. On the surface it was out of protectiveness for her daughter. But underneath, she was insanely jealous. She remembered a time when she’d been the one naked in the shed, or sneaking off to the barn, or in the back of someone’s pickup truck. But that had been a long time ago indeed. 

Inside, Becky fumbled around for her sun-dress. She tugged it down over her sweaty body, straightening it as best she could in the semi-darkness.

“You’ve got to hurry.” Andre said, tension in his voice. “I just don’t know what’ll happen if the Old Maid finds me like this.” 

Nancy’s ears pricked up. Were they talking about her? Becky shook her head. 

“Don’t worry. She never comes out here herself, she always sends me. Besides, I think the sight of a hot, naked young man would give her a stroke. So you’re safe either way.”

Nancy’s ears burned. Her knuckles went white on the baseball bat. 

Becky leaned in and gave Andre a kiss. She meant it to be just a peck, but she couldn’t help extending it. She put her hands around his neck, her lips tangling with his in a deep kiss. Something about him, tied up and helpless, really turned her on. Becky disengaged from his lips and headed eagerly for the doors. She was looking forward to opening them and seeing him in the light, fully exposed. First, though, she peeked out, scanning the yard. Her mother didn’t seem to be around.

Meanwhile, the hot kiss had done its work on Andre. It felt delicious, but had also reminded him of his severe case of blue-balls. He desperately wanted to get his hands free, but his libido got the better of him. 

“Hey, um, before you go. Do you think you could, just, ahh…take care of me here?” 

Becky laughed out loud. Men were really something else. 

She slid the doors open quietly. Bright sunlight flooded into the shed. Becky looked back at Andre. It was a sexy sight indeed – his naked, sweaty, muscular body was trapped in an awkward position, completely helpless. 

“Sorry, baby, you’ll just have to wait until I get back. Okay?” She asked. But Andre barely heard her – the screaming bright sunlight had completely blinded him. He squinted at Becky, who was just a black silhouette against the light.

“Fine,” He groaned. “I’ll suffer, just close those doors, I can’t see a damn thing.” 

“I’ll hurry.” Becky said, sliding the doors shut. At the last moment she quipped, “Don’t go anywhere.” 

Andre grunted. His eyes hurt, his hands hurt, and his balls hurt. And he most certainly was not going anywhere. 

~o~

Nancy watched her daughter jog across the back yard and head around the house. The little sneak must have parked down the road and come up through the fields, no doubt to avoid alerting the ‘Old Maid’. Nancy’s skin crawled at the term, and she felt deeply wounded by her daughter’s use of it. 

Nancy would deal with her later, though. She had other things on her mind. 

The moment Andre had complained of being blinded, Nancy’s gears had started to turn. They turned and turned, and cranked out a most twisted idea. 

Nancy had daydreamed her share of twisted plots and plans. But of all those ideas - from seducing the grocery clerk into the back of her car at the grocery store, to tying up the plumber’s assistant with his roto-rooter hose - none of those fantasies thrilled her like the reality of what she was about to do. 

Mastering herself, Nancy set the bat down in the grass carefully. She stepped up to the front of the shed. She knew she had to act quickly or she’d miss her chance, so, taking a deep breath, she yanked on the sliding aluminum doors. 

Andre’s eyes had been wide open, his irises fully dilated when the bright sunlight poured in. He was immediately blinded, squinting with pain. Then Nancy slid the doors closed quickly, plunging the room into darkness. 

She waited a moment, breathless. Had it worked?

Andre blinked, thankful for the darkness. His eyes had not even recovered from the first shock, and now they hurt doubly. His hands, of course, still hurt as well. But he had a feeling his other problem - the one between his legs - was about to be assuaged.

“Had a change of heart, huh?” Andre whispered to the spot he imagined Becky was standing in. 

In that spot, Nancy grinned wickedly. 

The image of the naked, immobile young man was burned on her corneas from the momentary flash she had seen. His body was firm and tight, young and muscular. He was naked, in an awkward position, and trapped. And most importantly, in his lap hung a heavy, swollen erection and two apparently aching balls. Nancy silently thanked whatever gods had seen fit to grace her with such easy prey.

Nancy inched her way forward in the dark, one hand extended towards the area she knew Andre to be in. Her fingertips connected with something. She dragged them across the flesh tentatively, and identified it as Andre’s pectoral muscle. Nancy caressed it, marveling at it’s hardness. 

“Uh, a little lower?” Andre hinted sarcastically. Nancy smirked. She purposely kept her hand high, dragging her fingernails across his shoulders and down his bicep. 

“I thought you came back to help?” Andre whined. Nancy almost giggled. Finally, she let her hand drift down his chest, into his lap. Her palm brushed against the swollen head. Nancy’s breath sucked in involuntarily – it was the first cock she had touch in ages. 

“Yeah…’ Andre sighed, as Nancy’s fingers curled around his shaft. In the utter darkness, Nancy couldn’t see it, but it felt bigger than it had looked. She caressed it carefully, tracing the veins, mapping it out in her mind. 

Andre wiggled, flexing his leg muscles, trying to get her hand into a regular stroking rhythm. But Nancy demurred, only pumping occasionally. 

“Come on, please…” Andre begged. Nancy’s grin was from ear to ear. She wanted to tease him verbally, make him beg and beg, but she knew her voice would be a giveaway. So finally she licked her hand, and began to stroke the meat in front of her. 

She pumped it carefully, slipping her hand up and down the shaft but avoiding the really sensitive area behind the head. Andre kept trying to move his body to assist her, but Nancy denied him. After pumping the cock evenly for a little while, she switched hands, knowing her left would be awkward and unable to maintain a very good stroke.

Andre moaned in frustration. He was enjoying the hands on his cock, but the sensations were maddeningly uneven. His balls felt like they were going to burst. He decided a hand job wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Come on, you know what I want.” Andre hissed. 

Nancy was pretty sure she did know. She wondered, though, if Andre would be able to tell the difference between her mouth and her daughter’s. She also knew she could play with him longer – and so cause him more grief - with her hand. 

Yet, all ideas of torture aside, it had been a long time since she had serviced a man that way, and her mouth was hungry for cock. Licking her lips, Nancy decided to risk it. 

Nancy got on her knees, careful not to touch Andre’s spread legs. She leaned forward, mouth open, and probed the darkness with her tongue. The tip of it connected with the underside of Andre’s shaft, and he jumped with the wet, hot contact.

“Oh yeah…” Andre moaned. 

Nancy knew she had to be careful not to give him too much pleasure – that would defeat the purpose of torture. But she couldn’t resist wrapping her lips over the head and sucking his cock into her mouth. Once inside, she just held it there, feeling the heavy thing resting on her tongue. 

Andre again bucked his hips as best as he could, trying to stroke into the mouth in front of him. What was Becky doing, he wondered? He had assumed she came back to relieve him, but he was starting to get the feeling she was just messing around.

“You better hurry.” Andre said. “If the Old Maid comes out and catches you with my cock in your mouth, you’re going to be grounded forever.” 

That was the wrong thing to say, Nancy thought grimly. She promptly dragged her teeth across the tender head.

“OW!” Andre cried, spasming. Nancy smiled. But before Andre could complain further, she started sucking his cock in earnest. Nancy drove the head in and out of her tight lips, and Andre’s anger slipped away. 

“Oh yeah, like that…” He sighed. 

Nancy immediately changed her stroke to spite him. 

Andre twisted around uncomfortably, trying to regain the sensations. Nancy denied him, though, and instead corkscrewed her mouth around the head repeatedly. After a bit of struggling, Andre adjusted and seemed to get into it. Nancy felt a squirt of precum on her tongue. 

“Oh god, I’m close.” Andre said. His cock started to throb, his balls clenched. 

Nancy yanked her mouth off his cock. She could picture it in front of her, bobbing helplessly, red and swollen. She found it wickedly satisfying. 

“Pleeease…’ Andre whimpered as his orgasm dissipated. This was starting to get really old. 


Baggage



I guess it all started about midflight as I stood in line outside the restroom door in the rear of the airplane. Completely oblivious to the other passengers in line and those on either side of me in their seats, I slowly, languidly mentally undressed the woman in front of me. I began by tossing her long black hair aside and unhooking her dress. Then as my left hand slowly slid the zipper down the center of her back I let my right hand lightly ease out to her shoulder and then down her side.

Following the gentle curve down to her waist and then out onto her hip I watched as her dress opened up above the descending zipper exposing the smooth, dark skin of her back. Eyeing the catch on her bra I considered my next challenge and decided to move my right hand from her firm hip and attempt the intricate combination of hooks and loops with both hands. Although the trembling that belied my nervousness hindered me a bit, I was able to unfasten the bra just as the restroom door opened and a short wrinkled woman stepped out and passed us as she returned to her seat.

With one arm holding up the top of her dress, the woman in front of me turned and our eyes met for the first time, holding a gaze in the naked silence that covered us. Her dark eyes stayed on me as I rejoiced in her face, her firm prominent cheek bones highlighted a dark olive complexion that drew my lips into its softness. Her large lips then moved as she whispered, "Why don't we continue this..."

When she paused I looked back up at her eyes and then turned to see what she was looking at. The line for the restroom had grown and I knew we couldn't continue. Our eyes met again and I silently pleaded in desperation.

"Perhaps not," she whispered in conclusion, her dark complexion not hiding her facial blush.

All I could do was shrug my shoulders as she slipped in and closed the door. I stood staring at the Occupied sign. A few minutes later she emerged and our eyes united for a breathless moment before she returned to her seat. I stepped into the restroom but had to wait until my erection subsided.

Returning to my seat I settled in replaying those moments with her in my mind, wondering if I would ever see her again. I actually considered getting up again and walking toward the front of the plane in an effort to find her but the old lady in the aisle seat just glared at every move I made in my seat. I decided to ride out the flight where I was.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and as the plane pulled to a stop at the gate I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt figuring if I hurry I might catch at least a final glimpse of the woman before she got away. Sadly, the old lady in the aisle seat took so long getting her stuff together the plane was all but empty by the time I finally was able to shuffle down the aisle and step off the plane. When I got to baggage claim the area was nearly empty, so I walked over to the conveyor and waited for my suitcase.

A few people grabbed the last couple of items that were still on the conveyor leaving me standing there by myself, without my bag. Scanning the terminal I spotted the baggage office and slowly walked toward the door. Looking through the glass I saw her standing at the counter, shuffling her feet impatiently. Fortunately, we both, unfortunately, were missing our baggage.

I quickly walked to the office and stepped inside as she was explaining her dilemma to the person behind the counter. I listened as she explained she had no blouses, pants, skirts, or underthings to wear since it was all in the missing bag. As she spoke I pictured her without each of the items she announced, seeing her clothing simply fall away and disappear.

When she finally turned to notice me she was completely naked. Realizing all my clothes were in my suitcase I found myself naked as well. Suddenly we were there together, unencumbered by any other baggage, naked to each other and totally oblivious to the world around us. I took a step toward her...

"Angelina Delgado," she said turning her gaze from me momentarily, "My address? Yes, it is..."

Her words beckoned me onward, inviting me to wrap my arms around her. I moved closer, watching her lips move, seeing her toss her hair over her shoulders and exposing her breasts to me. They were small, but firm with large nipples. I reached out and touched her arm, the skin felt soft...

"Wait a moment, was your bag a dark gray, arriving from San Antonio?" I heard the man behind the counter ask.

Angelina's hair fluttered lightly back over her breasts as she nodded.

"And you sir, your bag, also arriving from San Antonio?"

I looked at the man and nodded, "A black one," my hand lightly brushing Angelina's arm.

"We have them here I think. They actually came in on an earlier flight."

We stood gazing into each other's eyes as the man disappeared through a door. Her head moved slightly, tilting to the right as I leaned in, tilting my head the other way. Her full lips glistened in the light as we leaned together, our lips moving closer and closer...

"Yes, are these your bags?"

We stepped apart and looked down at the baggage. When I looked back at her I noticed she was now fully dressed. She stepped forward, reached out and grabbed the handle to her bag. Realizing I too was fully dressed I did the same.

"I saw you on the plane," I whispered to her as she turned.

Smiling, she replied, "Yes, I remember."

"Where are you going now?" I asked hopefully.

She paused a moment, as if thinking and then replied, "My husband is picking me up. He's probably circling the terminal in his car getting annoyed."

I nodded, remembering I needed to call my wife who was waiting in the cell phone lot waiting to come get me. "Have a nice evening," I said as we both reclaimed our baggage and headed our separate ways.



Baggage and Fantasies Ch. 01



Today was my personal anniversary. I was celebrating 30-16-6-3 and six-months. Confused? It's easily really, for thirty years I've been married; for sixteen years I have been the care giver to my disabled wife; it has been six years since my wife and I have had sex; it has been three years since I tried to find relief with and escort and found it is not my style; and it has been six months since I began trying to give up on sex in this lifetime. The last six months have been an interesting experiment. There has been less pressure but I'm lean, healthy, playful, a big tease and still seem to be greatly attracted to women more than I should be at my age. My age has helped. As long as I go to places where the women are under fifty, I am seen as the cute, harmless, old-guy. Whether in business, shooting pool, building houses or pleasing a woman, I'm about as harmless as a swarm of yellow jackets. Still as the saying goes, "It takes two," and the ladies have sent me home alone for a host of excellent reasons.

One beauty at the local bar, I have been trying to impress for five years. She showed some interest, has made out with me and let me get her off with my hands a few times but is really turned off because I am married. She knows I will always accept the responsibility of taking care of my overweight, over-medicated and wheelchair bound wife. It was about her hundred and fifteenth rejection that pushed me to try not flirting with the ladies any more.

-----------------------------------

My cell phone was playing some unknown tune when my skill saw spun to a stop. 

"Craig, this is Ann Winters, you had me be you partner at pool last Thursday night."

"What a pleasant surprise. I don't get many calls from beautiful women."

"Thank you, but you are as full of blarney during the day as you are at night."

"Alright, since you didn't like that compliment, how about, "Oh, the short, sexy woman with the large breasts and the tiny waist, who was my partner when we whipped the noisy asshole and his wife""

"Oh, I like that description. However, I broke twice and never had to shoot again."

"Are you ready to challenge the entire club this time?"

"No, I was calling to see if you wanted to go for coffee some morning."

"Only angels get up early in the morning and offer to buy coffee."

"I'm pretending to meet that requirement."

"Pick the place; I'll drive half way across the state to have coffee with you."

I was truly surprised by Ann's call. I had drafted her from a nearby stool, when asshole and his wife arrogantly accused everyone at the bar of having unmarried parents and stating that no team could possibly be as good as him and his wife. Ann and I kidded and exchanged non serious bar banter for an hour after the contest. It is usually easy to defeat a drunk, especially after he insulted me twice for refusing to play for money. I had watched him play three games before accepting his taunts.

Ann is about 5'1" and was the classic "spinner" once. Now she is about 50, carries an additional thirty pounds -- mostly in her breasts and ass. Her face shows her age but most thirty- year old women would envy her body and her grace of movement. I had never seen her at the bar before. Several of the young hunks started coming on to her and I found an excuse for her to escape from me. Her tight jeans and tube top screamed "Cougar," so I was avoiding rejection.

At the coffee shop, I returned from my second trip to the little boys' room offering a defense, "Taking a water pill in the morning means I make two relief trips for every cup of coffee."

"I don't have that problem, but that slice of pie would go straight to my thighs and I would waddle around work every day and none of the single men would pay any attention to me."

That line hit me like a ton of bricks. I never had any secrets. Everyone at the bar knew my situation. Quite a few of the patrons and employees have been to my house and have met my wife.

"What's wrong, Craig? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"No, Sweet Thing, I look like I'm thoroughly enjoying coffee with a lovely woman and just realized that I may have made a horrible mistake and may have hurt you."

She sat and looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I have gone to the same bar with the same people for a long time. Everyone knows me and my situation. It did not occur to me that you do not know about me."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"First, I'm sixty, I build houses for fun, I've been retired for many years, I'm very playful, and I am the primary care giver to my disabled wife. Ann, I never had any intension of keeping any secrets from you but I am married."

She was shocked but recovered quickly, "Tell me about your wife."

I felt like shit and I'm sure it showed and reflected in the tone of my voice. "She has a form of Parkinson's, is in a wheelchair and is heavily medicated. People at the bar have known for years; it did not occur to me to tell you."

"You agreed to have coffee with me."

"Yes. It is a great ego boast to have a lovely woman ask me out for coffee and to think she might find me interesting. I have tried and failed dozens of times to find a female friend who understands the responsibilities I have accepted for life. I have never slept around although my wife has urged me to find someone to meet those needs for years. Escorts are not my thing. Please forgive my oversight and know that I was truly excited by your invitation."

"Excited?"

"Wrong word. In our short time together and our phone calls, you were so much fun and I felt good talking to you. I started reconsidering finding a friend with common interests to do things with, travel with and just have fun with. I gave up on such things because of my "baggage."

Our coffee time was cut short. Ann was definitely put off by my admission. My third apology bounced off her closed car window as she drove away.

I did not feel good about myself for the next few weeks. Ann had been a delight. I had foolishly, for the hundredth time gotten my hopes up. I had not thought enough about her and I had hurt her. I just stayed busy building my current spec house and working around my own house to get everything done that spring requires. 

Tired, dirty and with a flatbed full of lumber to frame a two room and bath addition on a house I had built ten years ago, I stopped by for a beer at the bar. Brandy, one of the luscious married strippers who I drool over, wrapped herself around me before my eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the bar.

"Where have you been? I've missed you."

"I've missed your greetings and your anatomy lessons. Text me your schedule and let's get back on track for you to give me a table dance once a week. How are your husband and little ones?"

She had to scurry off; it was her turn at the rack. I settled down at the bar for a beer and got greeted by two more dancers. It was just after shift change and one cute little bartender named Sara said, "I want a hug too, but you are a mess."

"I'll promise you a good tip on your next shift if your overlook my dirty shirt and squeeze that lovely body of yours into me before that tall and gruesome boyfriend of yours shows up."

"He's not gruesome."

"Well, he's not my type."

I got my hug. Usually, I cleaned up after work before coming to the bar. Slacks and a nice clean shirt were my usual attire.

I got a tap on my left shoulder and turned to face Ann. "All the girls in the bar get a hug accept me?"

"My glasses are in the truck. I would never have missed you on purpose. I am surprised that you want a hug from me, however."

After a friendly hug where those lovely breasts reminded me that my equipment still works, we moved to a tall table with stools as far from the oversized, overdriven speakers as possible.

"Craig, I'm sorry for my reaction when we had breakfast."

"It was understandable."

"Sara told me a lot about you."

"You hanging out in the bar? Bartenders are supposed to be tight lipped."

"She comes in for breakfast where I waitress. It is on her way home after she drops her daughter off at school every day. Business is pretty slow then, so we get to talk."

"Did she tell you about the axe murder charges and wild month long parties where we sacrifice a virgin?"

Ann's smile convinced me that all was forgiven. "She told me that she met your wife once and a little about your bar history."

"I'm doomed."

"Not really. I was being somewhat of a hypocrite."

"You are too pretty and desirable for that. Just looking at you makes my mouth water."

"I'm trying to be serious. I've been separated for almost three years but my divorce won't be final for another month."

"I was serious. We all have lives. When we get a little age on us, stuff has happened that complicates things. Please hand me a napkin; I am trying to be attentive, but I am drooling."

"Over me?"

"First time I met you, we shot pool, but you were dressed like you are tonight and all the young studs were coming on to you. I didn't think you would want to use your time talking to me so I sought an out to keep from being pushed away."

"I met Brandy; she told me where to find your porn stories and how you have helped several people at the bar."

"I am going to have to give that cute little butt a spanking for talking too much."

"I read a lot of your stories. You write well."

"I had rather hear that you were turned on by my stories and got very wet."

"Why? Is the oral fetish that runs through many of your stories true?"

"Yes it is, and with you I would hope you squirt and get wet enough to drown me."

Ann's face was red and she had forgotten to exhale.

"Did I get too naughty? I always seem to be apologizing to you."

"I was warned that you will say about anything and have gotten to several of the dancers here."

""Gotten to?" What does that mean?"

"Several told me which story was written especially for them. A couple admitted to playing out verbal fantasies with you during table dances in the corner. I'm not sure what they meant but they seemed to like them."

"Ann, now I am embarrassed. I had no idea you ladies talk and share so much."

"I was here on a rainy slow night and I was the only customer who wasn't playing video crack. We talked; don't get a big head, not everything was about you."

"Damn, put in my place just when my ego was soaring. I am curious; I thought I really turned you off."

"Often I need a male friend to just go out with for dinner and a movie. I got to thinking and your situation sounds very real, honest and familiar."

"Ann, I don't lie and won't try to trick you to get into your pants. I'm too old for those games. I'll be honest, open and playful. If anything ever happens it will be something we both want. I did not lie to you; I haven't been with a woman in several years."

"Your stories are so alive, vivid and hot, that is difficult........"

"Don't say too much. I have a great imagination and could turn you inside out if you were in the mood to let me. My problem has always been in finding the right woman who wanted to be with me."

"How about JP? Everyone says you are head over heels for her. "

I was quiet too long before answering. That answer was personal and not playful. I was considering not answering.

"Craig, I didn't........"

"Ann, let me try to answer. I like you and want to let all the chips fall wherever they honestly fall."

"OK, I'll stay quiet."

"I fell hard for JP, years ago. If she is what I think she is away from this bar, she is exactly the kind of woman I would love to have as a friend, companion, work partner and lover. She has been a stripper for so many years, her perceptions are distorted and she has a perfectly formed set of rules that work for her. I think she likes me too but has kept me at bay for years and always will. The people at the bar kid me because of how I look at her. The situation is, has always been and will always be one sided. I know that, accept that and have moved on. You did the perfect thing to attract me. You called me, showed some interest and pursued me. You made me important and made me feel desirable and manly. I thank you for that."

She started to speak but I continued my speech. "Ann, the women who work in places like this may enjoy my company some but they are here for my money. It is their job and I have enjoyed playing along for the fantasy and relief it provides. I have always wanted a healthy woman friend who cared about me as well as my wallet. I still want that, but have generally given up because of my age and situation. Again I apologize for how things were not communicated properly between us but it was all an honest mistake."

"I'm not a little girl or one of your young or jaded dancers. I came into the bar thinking I wanted a young buck to make me feel twenty-five again. They bore me. You don't. Let's start over."

I was shocked but very pleased. For the next three hours the busy, loud bar did not exist. We talked, discovered our common interests and where we differed. She agreed to be my date occasionally for events like business functions, museum show openings, a picnic, a walk around the rose gardens, Cinco de Mayo, wine tastings along the river, art and craft shows, etc. I had looked for someone for many years to do these things with. It was surreal to be looking at a beauty who wanted to do these things with me. I did not ask, because I did not want to hear the answer of why she would go with a man fifteen years her senior and not truly handsome.

--------------------------------------

The grassy fields along the river were filled with carnival rides, tents, food venders, craft sellers and ten different Mexican songs playing at one time. It was cool and cloudy, as it often is in Portland, but it was the "Fifth of May." I had lived in Portland for six years and always wanted to go to the Cinco de Mayo celebrations but never had attended even one event. I always wanted to go to the Rose Show events but never did. I am a member of the Art Museum and the zoo but have never been to either. This had been a horrible pattern for years. Now, I was on my way to pick up Ann and as nervous as a sixteen year old boy going his first date.

Ann's one bed room apartment was furnished with rental furniture, thrift store items and some things that came from a nice home. She responded to my silent appraisal, "My ex left me with a mountain of debt and no bank account when he split with his most recent bimbo. I'm still recovering but getting there."

"I ran out of money trying to get through college, dropped out a semester to work and got my draft notice. Before I dropped out, I would go to a diner, get the catsup containers off several tables, order a bowl of hot water and make tomato soup. It wasn't very good and always made the managers mad."

"I don't believe such things are your problem now."

"I have other issues, but money is not one of them. Help me not be foolish and keep me sane and we'll have a great time."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm losing it too."

"You don't want me to tell you what I have decided to prescribe for myself when I feel that way."

Ann tilted her head back and laughed hardily. "You and I think alike. I've had the same thought."

"I want to die gasping for breath so sexually satisfied, I don't really care."

"Do women really pass out, like in your stories?"

"They can if they are smart enough, can turn their minds off and let their bodies fly, go higher, then higher still."

"What a nice thought, if only it were possible."

I did not respond. Maybe she would let me repay her wonderful gift of being with me and letting me enjoy her company so. I felt young, desirable and sexy - feelings that I had protected myself from for three years. Feelings that I thought I had let go for this lifetime.

For the day we dodged raindrops, ate gassy foods, drank too much, danced poorly and laughed more than either of us had laughed in years. After four beers, I raced to hide under the edge of a vendor's tent to avoid some rain, but I stopped faster than she did. Her body crashed into mine and she looked up into my eyes. There was no thought, no plan, no demand, I held her and kissed her. Her lips opened and I sucked at her tongue. Mine followed hers when it retreated and she returned the favor. I held our close position and finally sighed.

"What?"

"I felt that and it felt good."

"What do you mean?"

I thrust my half hard cock into her hip, pinning her tightly against a support post.

"Oh, I see."

"Was it only me, who felt anything?"

"No, but I don't have anything to push into you."

"Yes, you do."

Her body hesitated, turned slightly, her legs opened wider and her hips tilted and pressed into my thigh. I kissed her again. This time our lips were soft and crushed into each other; our tongues dueled to feel excitement, sense passion and enjoy tastes. I could feel the moist hot grind on my thigh from her spread pussy.

"If you are a friend you will only move slightly back and will stand there and talk to me for a while."

"I can do that, but why?"

I took her hand from my neck and slid it slowly down the front of my body. As she felt my right nipple, she was trying to guess where this conversation was going. I slid her hand even lower, stopping over my belly button and her finger tip wiggled into it. I pushed her hand down again but only to urge her. She continued the movement and closed her fingers around my twisted hard cock. Her fingers squeezed.

"If you move, everyone will see what your body has done to me; how it has taken control. They will see that I want you and am ready for you even though there are twenty thousand people here to watch."

The little vixen let her fingers linger, massage me and then she stepped to one side, looked down to confirm my admission and exposed my excitement to the world. I did not seek to cover myself but leaned in and whispered so my breath would tickle her ear.

"Someday sexy one, I will lift your skirt and let the cool wind hit your sweaty, satisfied pussy and let the people see our cum run down your legs."

Her eyes closed, her breath deepened, her body leaned into mine and her hand worked my uncomfortable cock. Her voice was barely above a gasp, "Would you do that horrible thing to little innocent me?"

I switched ears so my body would block my hand cupping her breast and capturing a nipple between my fingers. "Yes, I am afraid I would do that to you. I also must warn you that I would do so very much more. I would hope I could do most things with you, but if you want, I will pin you and I will do them to you. Your make me hot and crazy for you. I could easily spread you and take you."

She was in her fantasy - I had hoped, I would find it. Her eyes were still closed. She kept her ear next to my lips and talked to my neck. "How would you do that?"

"Right after sunset, a cool wind would come up. You would stand in the middle of a crowd; you would tease and challenge me by reaching under your skirt and stepping out of your warm, damp panties and handing them to me. I would use them to inhale you, get very turned on and not care about anything else in the world except your body. The scent of you would make all but you disappear. I would guide you toward a bench in the shadows and push you over it, stand behind you, take my cock out and slide it between the wet lips of you wonderful pussy. I would thrust into you until you begged me to stop because you came and came and she was very sensitive. I would sit on the bench and hold you, comfort you and slip my cock back into you. You would feel it dance in your belly and struggle for control so my body would not pump into you and fill you."

Ann's eyes were squinting, her face contorting. "Craig, you must stop. You are going to make me cum."




Baggage and Fantasies Ch. 01



"What do you have in your hand?"

"Your cock."

"Can you feel it dance inside you? I can feel your wetness pushing out around it and running down onto my balls only to drip through the bench onto the grass. I can feel your muscles contract around my shaft and feel your body try to move to rub it against your clit so no one will know."

"Please, Craig."

"Squeeze, your pussy for me. You know how. Even with my cock buried in your womb, I would still want to lick you, suck you and taste the slippery wetness that flows from you. Your movements would be so slight but all the pressure would be on your clit."

I kissed around her ear, licked at it, sucked her ear lobe and continued. "You would quickly discover you were in control, my body would shudder trying to hold back but you would know that you could make me cum any time you wanted to. You body would play mine so easily. Think about how you would squeeze me and suck me. Show me, suck my tongue."

She sucked and dove deeper into our shared fantasy. The river, the rain, Portland and the world had disappeared. I could feel the ripples go through her body as she squeezed her special muscles and rubbed her legs just perfectly to bring herself pleasure. She moaned into my mouth again, her hips thrust and her hand squeezed even tighter. My fingers only lightly squeezed her nipple but it was enough, she sucked my tongue harder and came.

I held my treasure while her body trembled to recover. Finally, Ann brought both her hands to my chest to push me just a few inches away.

"That has never happened to me before. Just with your words, you ................"

I kissed at her eyes, her lips and her neck. "Yes, Pretty One, they were my words but it was your mind that made them real, breathed passion into them and created something special."

We had held hands most of the day, but leading her away from our special post, our hand holding was different. We found a wine tasting tent and had an after sex drink together and looked dreamily into each other's eyes.

Sanity returned, beauty waned, thoughts started again and inadequate words replaced perfect communication.

"Was that an example of what some of the dancers referred to as verbal fantasies you played with them?"

"Being with you today has been wonderful. I have enjoyed my time with you more than I can remember. Yes, Ann, that is an example of a verbal fantasy."

"It is getting late; I think you should take me home."

"I had hoped we could dance tonight and get to know each other more."

"Craig, I need to get home."

I had seen this before. My imagination, my desire to please, being too honest and my need to have a female friend had driven this one away too. I could even write her objection, "It was such an intense personal feeling, I feel so cheap knowing that you do this with other women and enjoy it so much." 

Four months ago, I would have anguished and suffered over what I had done. I would have spent hours trying to understand my error and wrong doing. I would have pleaded my case and told her that my offenses were before I had met her. My son was a lot like me. He loved the ladies too much except he was handsome and young. The gorgeous women sought him out and hurt him when they moved on to one of the dozens of offers they receive each day. He had started taking what he called his "I don't give a shit pill." He took an antidepressant because he cared too much and was so easily hurt. I learned from him; my pill is named, "Wellbutrin SR." I still care but could take the rejection better. I slipped away to a portable toilet and wrote her a note, knowing I would be taking her home early.

Dear Ann, I thoroughly enjoyed our only date together. You are such a great delight to me; I wanted to please you and see in your eyes that you were happy with me. Someday, I hope to meet an intelligent, imaginative, passionate woman like you who can put up with my writer's mind, my extensive baggage and still wants to share time with me. I believe you feel I have belittled you; I apologize; exactly the opposite is what I meant to do. You have taken my breath away and I meant to be special enough to you, for you to want to see me again.  Sincerely,  Dumb old fart.

I handed her that note when I dropped her off. I was sad but not as depressed as I would have been without my "I don't give a shit pill." I only know one way to get over such times. That is to work. I left my phones at home, stayed away from the bars and worked long hours every day. This had worked to forget Viet Nam, my first marriage, two girlfriends and almost to forget JP.

-----------------------------------

My logic was suspect at best. For a month, I escaped successfully into wine and work. I turned my remodeling project over to my crew and moved to a new construction project where I could work alone. 

I did not know, but Ann asked around to find me. The bartenders, verbal playmates and even Brandy did not offer to help. Finally, one evening she pleaded with Brandy, "I need to talk with him. I was so sure he was a player. Now I am not sure."

"Craig might be many things but he is not a player in terms of having many women and putting notches on his bedposts. Maybe you can get his son, Scott, to tell you where he is. Craig has more money than anyone should have. He really liked you. If I weren't married, I'd take him away from you in a second. Even now, it's not a bad idea. JP could still have him but she has her own issues. You should have gotten to know him; he is quite a guy."

Scott was almost blitzed when Brandy called Ann on a Wednesday night to tell her, he was at the bar. Ann hurried in and introduced herself. Scott was much more vocal and direct than his father. "So you are Ann." He leaned back, getting his eyes to focus as he scanned every inch of her. They settled on her breasts and he talked to them, "You do have a great body, beautiful boobs, but I bet you never put out for him. He is a dumb shit. Always caring and never getting anything."

"Scott, I want to find Craig and talk to him."

"Why? What do you want from him? Everyone wants crap from him. Even his wife takes for herself and for her kids. Leave him alone. Don't lead him on. Just ask him; he'll give you what you want; you don't have to hurt him or con him. Just ask."

For two hours Ann waited for openings while Scott shot pool. She kept at him. Even drunk he was good. He had had a good teacher. Scott was too drunk to drive his full sized pick-up truck. He finally agreed to show Ann where his dad was, if she would drive it. At eleven p.m. Craig was sleeping in a tattered, discarded recliner in a "building" with only framed walls.

"Scott, what are you doing way out here? You're drunk, like me. We have to get you home."

"This woman wanted to see you."

Craig looked past Scott and saw Ann. His tongue was thick with alcohol, "I thought we agreed to stay out of each other's female problems."

Ann stood there while they talked about her.

"This one is too pretty. You should talk to her."

"Damn, Scott, you and your boob issues. If she showed you her tits, you would give her the combination to the company safe."

"Talk to her, you old asshole."

Scott took over the trashed recliner and promptly passed out.

Craig rambled, "He works harder than you and I put together. He inherited his father's weaknesses and bad judgments with women. I didn't do him any favors. Why did you want to find me? I have shared verbal fantasies with other women before I met you, remember?"

Craig looked like hell. He had lost weight he could not afford to lose; he had not slept much in the last month, he was dead tired and had been drinking so he could sleep. His patience was thin and he had a mean streak that showed. "Ok, you were smart enough to use my drunken son to find me. You should have just asked my wife. My location is written on a pad beside her bed and her nurse would have read it to you."

"I wanted to tell you that I was wrong and would like to spend time with you and get to know you."

Craig was tired, hurt, angry, drunk and sharp, "Your are too young and pretty. You don't want to be with me. What do you want? Strip and let's fuck."

Even in his current state his own words offended him, "I'm sorry Ann, come see me when I'm decent. I haven't bathed in three days, shaved in five or slept well in weeks."

"But your house is coming along fine."

"No one ever complains about anything I build and my houses always sell."

Craig, punched in a few buttons on his son's cell phone, gave the address and pushed "off."

"What was that?"

"I've been drinking and trying to get over you. If we talk, you're going to get me to say stupid stuff. I called a taxi to take you home."

She started to object but he over talked her.

"I like you, want you and enjoy your company. That was not enough. I know that. I teased with you to please you and offended you. I wanted to lick your pussy until your eyes rolled back in orgasm and I could taste the juices from deep inside you. I did not know my place. All of these building supplies are happy with me. I belong with them. They let me make love to them and they whisper naughty things in my ears. Go home. Find a young handsome stud who lies that he has never looked at another woman."

Ann moved in even closer, grabbed a hand full of his hair and pulled his lips to hers. His breath smelled like stale alcohol and garlic heavy Chinese food. She kissed him squarely on the lips then said, "Give me you cell number and I'll go when the cab comes. But when I call, you answer or I'll find you and bite your nuts off."

His eyes didn't quite focus but they were large as half dollars. Something she said was getting through the alcohol fog. Something she said, said, "I care about you." Something she said, said, "I know all the scores and still want to see you." Something she said, said, "I accept you just as you are." His heart raced and his mind began to hope again.

As she drove away in the cab, he reminded her the fourth time to call him. As he watched the tail lights, he realized that he had sounded needy and was now embarrassed. Where was the bottle and his "I don't give a shit pill?" He knew how to make the depressing thoughts go away.

---------------------------

Thursday, Craig worked from dawn until dark and settled into his junked recliner, convinced that again, somehow, he had screwed things up. He laughed at himself about three times that night as he got up to relieve himself and shined a flashlight at the standing sewer pipe in the roughed-out downstairs bathroom and hung his cock in the 4" ABS opening. Each time his thoughts were, "Old fellow, you won't be able to satisfy or fill this hole."

Friday afternoon, his cell phone did ring with a call from a number he did not know. He was ready to fend off another scam on refinancing or expiring car warranty when Ann's voice surprised him.

"Still sleeping in that piece of junk chair?"

"I proposed last night. Be careful, that's my fiancé you are talking about."

Her female laughter was so beautiful; his soul lifted up several notches. He just let his mind go and charged ahead, "How brave are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you brave enough to come over to my house at seven on Saturday night and let me cook dinner for you?"

She was quick and Craig loved it. "Why, is your cooking that bad?"

"Everything will taste really good. I'll have 911 on speed dial and a stomach pump handy."

"OK, seven it is. How do you want me to dress?"

He was quiet. Waiting. Still quiet. What did the silence mean? Then the light went on.

"I understand, stupid question. Tell me how to get there."

Three years as a specialty chef working for tuition and food while going to college didn't hurt. Forty more years of occasional practice helped too. However, Craig would have to wait for Ann to notice the table setting. The three-story Victorian on landscaped three acres that were entered through a security gate was not what she was expecting. Craig had built his house to please himself and his wife of thirty years. It was eight thousand square feet of near perfection, indoor/outdoor pool, professional kitchen and a lot more. The seven bathrooms, she could not get over.

"Let's have a glass of wine and some fruit and cheese in my office. You can see where I write and meet all my naked mermaids. Carol is staying with her sister tonight."

The space was completely masculine and a wonderful warm, sex filled playful room. The built-in bookcases were filled, the walls and ceiling were all wood and the furniture was red leather. There were many naked mermaids but there were also fetish pictures of chained women, contorted female faces in climax and playful, smiling women squirting into the air. Ann tried to stay cool and look like she had seen such pictures a million times, but she kept glancing about and staring at different pictures while they sipped wine and talked.

"Do my pictures offend you?"

"No, but many are of scenes I have never seen pictured."

"Do you have fantasies sometime that are of scenes you have never seen pictured?"

"Let me think about that. How about you? Do you have wild fantasies?"

"Sure."

"What is the wildest you can think of right now?"

"You are going to run away from me again if I start answering such questions."

"No, I won't run away."

"Often I read something that gets my mind going. None of my thoughts are super important to me but sometimes a fantasy lingers. I have never fisted a woman but the thought of a strong sheath contracting in climax around my wrist is very arousing."

Ann's breath rushed from her lungs and she could not inhale. She was at once frightened that this man wanted to shove his hand up her and turned on by the idea. Craig noticed and again sought to recover.

"That was a thought off the top of my head. Please do not be offended. I sometimes am not housebroken and answer too quickly and my thoughts are often too far-fetched for public consumption."

His answer did not help, so he led her to the dining table and a wonderful salad followed by a chicken breast in cream sauce over rice, julienned string beans, sweet buttered carrots and warm French bread. Craig kept the conversation between acceptable lines and they dined and enjoyed each other's voice and eyes for over an hour. Craig teased with the whipped cream on the desert but their conversation did not seem to be leading toward sex tonight.

"Ann, I hope you will come dine with me here again when it is light outside and you can see the grounds and the pool better."

"I would like that."

Later while Craig helped Ann with her coat, he spoke volumes to her in just a few short sentences. "Tonight, I had hoped to kiss you and touch you. Your body did not ask me to kiss it. To me you are my equal. What we do, we will both have to ask the other for. Thank you for dining with me. I have thoroughly enjoyed your company and having you at my home for the first time. Do you mind if I go to sleep dreaming about you?"

"What would you dream about me?"

"You might not think you do, but you know me well now. What do you think I would fantasize about?"

Ann paused, looked shy but risked an answer, "How I taste?"

"Yes, my lovely. You are exactly right."

---------------------------------

During lunch on Sunday, Craig's cell phone rang; it was Ann, "How come we woke up in separate places today?"

"Beautiful woman, I wish I had a good answer for you, because I wanted you last night more than I wanted anything in this world."

"Why are you working on Sunday?"

"To keep from thinking about your body."

"You could have taken me."

"You could have said, "I want to feel you inside me; please take me.""

Ann was at an impasse.

"Beautiful, the men you have known wanted to release into your body. I am older. I want to share release with your body. That is not a subtle difference. It is a massive difference. I do not want to cum in you. I want to watch your lovely face contort in pleasure, hear you cry my name and feel your womb suck the cum from my body into yours."

Ann felt a surge of heat go through her body and wetness between her legs. She was silent for long moments, breathing into the handset. Finally, she whispered, "Oh, Yes" and then was silent again.

"You know all about me now. I have told you how I feel about you, like to be with you and don't want to hurt you. If we go anywhere from here, we are going to have to be very open with each other and always talk about what we are feeling and what we want."

"When will you visit me at my apartment and let me cook for you?"

"I would like that. Anytime you give me a day's notice and tell me what I can bring."

"I work the breakfast and lunch shift on Tuesday and have Wednesday off. How about Tuesday evening?"

"Great, I'll bring the roofies, ropes, handcuffs and wine and see you about 6:30."

Ann laughed and they said their goodbyes. After she hung up, she wasn't entirely sure Craig was joking. Her body was still flushed and did not seem to mind the idea of being taken. She just smiled and decided to believe he was joking.



Baggage Claim



A young man in jeans and a TransFlyte golf shirt watched the last piece of luggage get picked up from the baggage claim carousel by a middle-aged businessman. He saw the single remaining girl's exasperated expression, even from a distance. When the carousel stopped, she stared at it as if trying to make it move again.

Finally, she turned and glanced around the nearly empty baggage claim area. It was late evening. Few, if any more, flights would be arriving that night. When it looked like she might leave, the young man walked out of the shadows.

She looked at him once. Then twice. She saw the logo on his shirt and turned to face him. He was close now.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Are there any more bags from flight 346?"

He had been told she was cute. The guys in Orlando had lied to him. She was gorgeous: light brown hair with even lighter streaks through it; a perfect tan; full breasts under a tight top; tiny waist; body-hugging jeans; and, long legs.

He found himself staring into her incredible eyes, saying, "No. That's it, I'm afraid. Missing one?"

"Two, actually," she said with disgust.

"Maybe they came on an earlier flight."

Her face seemed to physically brighten at the words.

"Really? Where would they be?" she asked.

"Upstairs. Behind the ticket counter. We have an office where we store them," he said nonchalantly.

"Can we check?"

She was nearly walking before she finished asking.

"Sure. I'll take you," the young man volunteered.

His leisurely pace didn't suit her, but if he took her to her 'lost' luggage, it would be worth it, she supposed.

"Been on vacation?" the man asked.

"Yeah. A cruise," she answered.

"Wow. That would be nice. It's turning so cold up here."

The got on an escalator.

"I'll need to give them your name," he said, looking back over his shoulder at her.

"Amanda Peters."

"OK, Amanda. I'm Joel."

"Hi."

At the top of the escalator, they turned left and made their way to the TransFlyte ticket counter. The near total absence of customers made the normally bustling scene seem almost eerie to Amanda. Joel led her beyond the TSA scanners and to the side of the ticket counter.

"Wait here. I'll be right back," Joel told her.

He closed the office door behind him and looked at the man behind the desk.

"Holy shit, Tom. This one is flat out gorgeous," Joel said. "My cock's throbbing already."

"Relax," Tom said with a smile. "We've got all evening. Did you see how dead it is out there?"

Joel nodded, fully realizing the consequences of the statement.

Before he could respond, a tall girl in her early twenties, about Amanda's age, came through the office's back door.

"Well?" she asked.

"Hey, Angie. She's here. She's beautiful and she's VERY anxious to get her luggage," Joel told her.

Angie sat on a couch and grinned. "How anxious?"

"I'm pretty sure she'd do almost anything to get those bags," Joel said.

"OK," Tom interrupted. "You guys know the routine. If it looks like she's going to panic, back off. Let's do it."

Joel turned, opened the office door, and called for Amanda to come in.

Tom was a thirty year old supervisor for TransFlyte and had worked with Joel and Angie for nearly a year. The trio hit it off immediately and found themselves killing time during slow periods with open discussions about their sexual fantasies. Angie, being the youngest as well as an attractive blonde, was often the target of the men's pestering; but, she took it in stride.

Tom initiated the 'baggage diversion program' six months earlier. It took some cooperation from his friends at the airlines in other cities, but the compensation he paid them in the form of confiscated liquor and cigarettes was well worth it.

When he saw Amanda enter the office, he knew the price would be very high. He stared at her model-like figure and stunning face while Joel closed the door behind her. Angie was equally transfixed on the couch, restlessly crossing her legs as she watched.

"Hello, Miss...um, Peters. Correct?" Tom said, staring at a piece of paper on his desk.

"Yes," she replied.

"It seems there was a mix up with your luggage," Tom said in a monotone voice.

"Do you have them?"

Tom looked at her intently. Without fail, this was the point where he could begin to tell if the 'victim' was going to cooperate. More than once, luggage was turned over to women who appeared ready to get combative.

"We do."

"May I have them?" Amanda asked.

"It seems, Amanda, that there was a problem with some of the contents of your baggage," Tom said.

"A problem? Like what?"

Tom nodded at Joel, who vanished into the area Angie had come from. A few seconds later, he returned with Amanda's bags in tow. He placed them beside Tom's desk.

The supervisor rose from his chair and stood by the bags.

"You realize, of course, that bags are randomly checked for drugs, explosives, and so forth," Tom said, beginning to unzip the largest of the bags. "This bag was one of those."

Amanda's stomach turned from anger as she watched the bag being opened.

"You know damn well there's nothing like that in there," she said.

"But we didn't at the time," Tom said, laying the bag completely open.

All eyes were on the contents. A layer of neatly folded clothes did not, on the surface, seem very unlawful. Tom dug his hands deep along the side of the bag.

"Ah ha," he declared.

When he pulled his hand out, he was holding a large box containing a bottle of rum.

"I'm allowed to have that," Amanda said loudly.

Tom dug on the other side of the suitcase and pulled out a second, identical box.

"You declared all this, of course," Tom said.

Amanda scowled at him.

Tom stared back at her. "Well, maybe that's irrelevant. The fact is, we all know about it. And it seems to me that you should reward our finding your bags by allowing us to sample it."

"You didn't 'find' my bags. You stole them," Amanda stated, as if she was a lawyer trying to convince a jury.

"Are you really in a position to be making accusations, Amanda?"

Tom was already opening one of the boxes and letting the large bottle slide out into his hand. Joel and Angie looked on with anticipation, knowing where Tom was probably going with this one.

"Angie, would you go get us some Coke, please?" Tom said.

Amanda was resigned to the fact some, if not all, of her expensive rum was about to be dispersed among the staff members. She chose to remain calm, if not content.

Tom opened the bottle and whiffed the contents. Soon, Angie was back with three large glasses of soda. She placed them on Tom's desk and returned to her couch.

Amanda expected him to pour her rum into the glasses. Instead, he put the bottle down and revisited the luggage.

"It's been a long day, Amanda. I think me and the staff would like to be served," Tom said, turning over several pieces of clothing in the suitcase. "You can act as the cocktail waitress. But we need something for you to wear. Something appropriate."

Amanda's throat began to tighten at the tone of his voice and the fact he was rummaging through her stuff.

"Listen," she said. "Take the rum. Both of them if you want. Just let me go home."

Tom pushed aside several articles of Amanda's clothing before seeming to find what he was after. Everybody watched him pull out a single, tiny item. It was light blue and nearly fit in the palm of his hand.

Only when he held it up did it become apparent what he had: a silk thong.

"Perfect," Tom exclaimed.

Joel smiled from ear to ear. In all the previous 'detentions' they had pulled off, they had never found a sexier item to be worn by a sexier girl. He saw the glee in Angie's eyes.

"If you don't mind...," Amanda started to say.

"Oh, c'mon," Tom said harshly. "Don't act like your so modest, Amanda. The only reason you'd pack something like this is to be seen in it. So we'll give you that opportunity."

His meaning was obvious and Amanda considered her options. She was ready to turn and leave.

"Put this on and serve us, or never see the bags again—or any of their contents."

Like the money-conscious girl she was, Amanda did some quick math in her head to try to calculate how much she'd lose. It was substantial. Twenty seconds passed in silence.

"You can walk out of her tonight, Amanda, with both bags and both bottles of rum. Well, what's left of them anyway," Tom said calmly. "Just do as I say."

Amanda glared at him. Tom tossed her the thong.

"Put it on."

One last thought of escape preceded Amanda unbuttoning her jeans. She pulled down the zipper and kicked off her shoes. She saw all three TransFlyte employees following the movement of her hands as she pushed down on the top of her pants.

A pair of white bikini panties emerged from under the jeans as they slid down her legs. Amanda pulled her foot out of one pant leg, and then the other. The anger inside her showed as she flung the jeans on the floor.

She reached for her panties.

"Uh huh!" Tom shouted. "Not yet. I want everything off."

"You fucking pervert," Amanda barked. "Is this the only way you can get your kicks?"

"No. It's the only way you can get your luggage, and clothes, and liquor."

Amanda gripped the bottom of her shirt and angrily yanked it over her head. A bra that matched her tiny panties clung closely to her ample breasts. The nipples were prominent through the thin material and even the darker ovals of her areolas were evident. The erection that began for Joel in the baggage claim area grew quickly inside his pants.

Amanda delayed the next move until looking at Tom and receiving his command to continue—a gentle nod of his head. She reached behind her back and unhooked the bra. She held it in place for a couple seconds before allowing it to drop off.

Each of the employees did a silent inspection of Amanda's faultless tits. They envisioned themselves taking Amanda in their mouth, licking and sucking on the erect nipples. The men thought of the feel of the tits wrapped around their aching cocks.

All in due time.

The show was about to reach the final act. With youthful grace, Amanda pulled off her panties, reached for the thong, and slid it up her silky thighs. She pulled on the straps to put everything in its place. She hoped that the quick glance everybody got of her neatly shaven pussy would be the last.

"Turn around," Tom said.

Amanda turned half way, hesitated for an instant to allow a view of her round, firm cheeks, and then faced the supervisor again.

"Well done. I think we'll get along just fine," Tom said. "Now, lets party. If you would please do the honors, Amanda."

He held up the bottle of rum and Amanda walked over to the desk. She poured a generous amount of rum into each glass of Coke before setting the bottle back down. Joel took a seat in the only empty chair remaining, never taking his eyes off the nearly naked girl.

"Women first," Tom said. "That one's Angie's."

Amanda picked up a glass and went to the couch. Her eyes met Angie's for a brief instant before Angie got her first close look at Amanda's body. Even when Amanda turned to get another glass, Angie followed the swaying ass.

Both men were served with the same scrutiny provided. Amanda did not sense any lessening of her self-conscious feelings.

"Don't you think Angie's just the cutest little thing?" Tom asked Amanda.

She answered with a timid grin and a nod.

"She'd prefer that the luggage belonged to a man, but guess what? Ends up she likes beautiful women, too."

The lust in Angie's eyes was unmistakable. When she had Amanda's full attention, she said, "Especially young ones in thongs. Come here, Amanda."

Amanda's heart pounded as she made her way across the office. She stopped a few feet in front of Angie.

"Closer," Angie said.

Amanda stepped forward.

"Kiss me."

The words were barely audible. They stunned Amanda into stillness. And then she bent over.

Angie leaned forward at the same time. Amanda stopped short of touching Angie's lips, so the girl on the couch put her hand behind Amanda's head and pulled her closer. Their lips finally came together in a soft kiss.

Standing in front of the men in a thong bothered Amanda. Bending over as she did to kiss Angie bothered her. But the kiss itself, to her surprise, was not an unpleasant experience. Certainly it was a first for Amanda, but not as dreadful as she might have expected.

Angie let the kiss continue for a few seconds before sliding her tongue across Amanda's lips. Before she realized it, Amanda was returning the favor. Then the women's mouths were open and the kiss was turning sensual.

Tom and Joel drank quietly as the scene on the couch unfolded. Joel was the first to stroke his cock through his pants. Tom's hand was hidden by the desk, but was clearly doing the same.

It seemed like an eternity to Amanda before the kiss ended. When she leaned back up, her head was spinning. Angie winked at her and ran her tongue across the top of her glass. Amanda felt her pussy respond with a quiver.

"Wow," Tom sighed. "You girls were made for each other, I think. But it was Joel that brought you to us, Amanda. How about thanking him in person."

Joel put his glass on a nearby table and watched Amanda approach him. His eyes had trouble leaving her full breasts. And when they did, they traveled down to the tiny piece of material covering her pussy. The indentation of the fabric outlined the hole his cock craved.

Amanda started to lean over as she did for Angie.

"No," Joel stopped her. "Sit on my lap."

He held his legs together to form a seat and waited for Amanda to comply with his order. She eventually straddled his legs and took her place on top of his knees.

"Closer," he said, reaching out his hands and grabbing her by the waist.

He pulled her as she scooted forward. By the time she stopped, her breasts were just inches from his face and her pussy rested against his cock. Joel didn't say a word as he tilted his head and put his lips on her right nipple. He licked her twice before putting the nipple between his lips. Soon, the entire end of her tit was in his mouth and he was sucking on it.

Joel put his hands on the back of her ass and pulled her even closer, forcing her to rub his cock with her pussy. She could feel him through his pants. And then she felt his teeth around her nipple and she groaned out loud.

Tom laughed quietly.

"She wants it, Joel. Try the other one," he said.

Joel lightly bit on the other nipple and Amanda fought back a response. But her body couldn't resist. Waves of pleasure flowed through her.

She gladly stood up when he was finished. It was Tom's turn and she was prepared for the worst.

Tom rose from the chair and met Amanda at the side of his desk.

"That was a fine introduction to everybody," he said. "I think everybody really likes you. I know I do."

He moved behind Amanda and wrapped his arms around her. The palms of his hands lie flat on her breasts. Then he let his fingers take a firmer grip.

"Can you feel how hard I am, Amanda?"

Even before he pressed harder against her ass she had felt his erection.

"Joel was over there playing with himself when you and Angie were kissing. Imagine how excited he'd be if you and Angie, say, made out. Watching two women have sex is about as good as it gets," Tom said, squeezing Amanda's nipples and feeling her body stiffen.

"Would you do that for us?" Tom asked.

"No," Amanda said defiantly.

Tom slid a hand inside the front of her thong and found her clit.

"I think if you got horny enough you'd do it."

He rubbed her harder and faster. Amanda tried to pull her pussy away, but it only caused her ass to push against his cock.

"Maybe you don't need your luggage after all," he said, moving his hand down until he could insert a finger inside her dripping cunt.

Amanda moaned. "OK. OK. Stop."

"You'll do it?"

"Yes," Amanda whimpered.

As soon as the word left her mouth, Angie was unbuttoning her blouse. Tom continued to play with Amanda while everybody in the room watched Angie strip. She had the blouse and bra off quickly, followed by her jeans. She stood to remove her panties and sat back down on the couch once she was naked.

Even Amanda had to marvel at the blonde's scrumptious body. The tits were firm if not overly large. But everything was proportioned to perfection and the pussy, with it thin strip of hair above the clit, was very inviting.

By the time Tom let her go, Amanda could have been talked into almost anything—including sex with a girl she'd never met before.

Angie spread her legs as an invitation, and Amanda accepted; but, with reservation.

"I never...I mean...I never did this...," Amanda stammered.

Angie smiled. "It's OK. Do what you'd want somebody to do to you. It's easier than you think."

Somewhat more confident, Amanda got on her knees between Angie's long legs. She was so concerned with Angie that Amanda didn't hear the sounds behind her of Tom's pants coming off. As Amanda moved forward, so did Tom—with his hard cock emerging from under his shorts.

Amanda wasn't secure enough to head straight for Angie's pussy, so she kissed all around the area, amazed by the delightfully soft, smooth skin of the girl's body. Amanda worked her way up the inside of Angie's thighs until it was inevitable that she had to contact the warm pussy.

Tom waited patiently for Amanda's tongue and lips to settle into their place between Angie's legs. Once he saw that Amanda was working feverishly on Angie's clit, he moved.

His hands skimmed across Amanda's ass, who gave the impression of being oblivious to his actions. Tom pulled aside the thin strip of thong to reveal her moist cunt. He let his cock slide up and down the crack of her ass before sliding it between her legs. 

Whether resigned to her fate or too engrossed in eating Angie, Amanda did not challenge the fact Tom's cock was sitting at the entrance to her cunt. She felt the large head enter her as she bit harder on Angie's clit. Both girls let out muffled moans.

Tom drove his cock in until his balls smacked up against Amanda's tight ass. He held her by the hips and started to fuck her slowly. Amanda, meanwhile, moved her mouth down to Angie's hole and used her tongue in place of a cock. Then the pace picked up and the moans grew louder.

Amanda put her hands under Angie's ass and lifted her from the couch to get a better angle into the juicy cunt. She was truly guessing as to what to do, but took Angie's advice and probed every corner of the hole with her tongue. A short while later, she was back licking the clit while Tom fucked her from behind.

Angie closed her eyes and played with her own tits. She felt an orgasm quickly building. When she opened her eyes, she saw Joel pulling on his stiff cock. Angie always loved being watched and both men were getting great views.

Amanda put the clit between her lips and bit down.

"Oh God, Amanda. Yes! Just like that!" Angie cried.

Tom was playing with Amanda's tits and driving the young woman wild with desire. His thick cock more than filled her cunt and, like Angie, she was nearing a climax. But Angie's squeals signaled she might cum first.

"Ohhhh, yes! Harder! Please, lick me harder!"

Amanda complied. She could feel Angie's body ready to explode. She knew what Angie was feeling and it wouldn't be long. Amanda put the clit inside her mouth.

"Fuck. Now! Now! I'm cumming," Angie screamed.

Amanda tried to keep licking as Angie squirmed on the couch. She wrapped her arms under Angie's thighs and held on. The sound and sight of Angie cumming must have excited Tom, because Amanda felt the force of his thrusts increase.

Angie continued to moan even as her orgasm was subsiding. Tom waited until the girl was done, pulled out of Amanda, and said, "Turn around."




Baggage Claim



As fast as he could, Tom put his cock on Amanda's mouth. She spread her lips and he pushed his cock inside. She could taste her own juices, combined with his pre-cum.

Suddenly, Angie's head was on Amanda's shoulder and her hands were kneading Amanda's tits.

"Get ready, babe," Angie said softly. "He can really unload."

Amanda continued to suck the cock without faltering. Tom groaned once as an apparent warning, and then held Amanda's head in place with his hand.

A violent gush of cum splashed against the back of Amanda's throat. She tried to swallow before the next one shot out. Tom continued to fill her mouth until the overflow covered Amanda's lips. Amanda used one hand to stroke the cock and the other hand to wipe his cum off her chin.

He seemed to cum forever before pulling out, still very hard.

"God, you're good," Tom panted. "Joel, you have to do this."

The young man stood, his erection pointing to the ceiling as he approached Amanda.

"I need to cum," she begged. "Fuck me, please."

To everyone's surprise—maybe even Amanda's—she fell onto her back on the couch and let Joel climb on top. As soon as he had the thong pulled out of the way and his cock was in position, he plunged it inside her, much to Amanda's satisfaction. Angie moved over and took a breast in her mouth. The fucking began and Amanda closed her eyes.

All the events of the evening were forgotten during the near-perfect sex. Joel's cock filled Amanda's cunt; Angie sucked on her tit. The multitude of sensations flowing through Amanda's body excluded any thoughts of anger she might have. She tried to prolong it, but an orgasm wouldn't wait.

Amanda gripped the edge of the couch and cried out in bliss as she came. Over and over, her body released itself through her pussy. She begged Joel to fuck her harder and he eagerly obeyed.

A moment later, he said, "Can I cum inside?"

"Yes!" Amanda screamed. "Just keep fucking me."

In the midst of her final orgasm, Joel started to empty his balls inside her cunt. Amanda gripped the cock with her muscles, forcing every drop out of it while Joel was still hard. His grunts joined the sound of the couch crashing against the wall with each thrust.

They finished at the same time and Joel lowered himself onto Amanda's limp body. His cock left a trail of cum on her thigh as he rolled off the couch.

"Damn, she's tight," he said, staggering to his feet.

Angie and Amanda were locked in one last, passionate kiss. Tom and Joel had a drink while getting back into their clothes and watching the women.

The TransFlyte crew had one last request for Amanda. Could she leave her thong behind?

She took it off and handed it to Angie with a smile.

Minutes later as she walked out of the office trailing her two bags behind, a nearby security guard caught her eye. He smiled.

"Lost your luggage, huh?"

Amanda blushed and headed for the exit.



Baggage



For Nancy, the fun was just beginning. She let his imminent ejaculation fade, and then placed her lips at the very tip of the head. She teased him with her tongue, letting him inch back into her mouth with agonizing slowness. Then she placed her hands on Andre’s thighs, and held herself at a distance, keeping her strokes shallow. 

But this time, Andre was determined to get off. When her mouth was on a down-stroke, he flexed his legs, thrusting forward, deep into her mouth. Nancy’s eyes went wide as the head of his thick cock bumped the back of her throat. She gagged. 

In response, Nancy dug her fingernails into Andre’s thighs and scraped them down his skin. 

‘AAAHHH!” Andre bellowed. His mad thrusting came to a stop. 

His yell petered off into a grumble, though. He was mad, but his cock had pushed a little too deep, and he knew it. Still, he was really starting to get upset. His balls hurt more than ever now. 

As if reading his thoughts, Nancy moved her mouth away from his cock and down to his balls. She licked them hungrily, a little too hard, and Andre winced. 

“Careful, jeez-“ He said, squirming. 

Nancy sucked one of his heavy, bloated nuts into her mouth and trapped it there. Andre tensed, and went very still. Under normal circumstances he was wary of having his balls sucked, and now they were more sensitive than ever. 

Nancy held the ball firmly in her mouth and reached for his cock with her hand. She knew the combined pain and pleasure would be maddening, and proceeded to pump the cock with her fist. The ball tugged against her lips but she did not let go. 

The sensation was, in fact, excruciating for Andre. Getting wise to her toying ways, though, he used some reverse psychology. 

“Oh that feels good. God, I think I’m about to come…” He whispered. Nancy immediately let the ball slip from her mouth. Andre sighed a breath of relief. 

Nancy was giddy with her little game. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Andre was weary, though, and he expressed it bluntly. 

“I’m serious, Becky, you gotta finish this. Either finish or get going.” 

Andre’s voice was heavy with pain and frustration. Nancy smiled. She knew she’d leave shortly, but she wanted one more round against the thick meat in front of her. She loved the taste, and the feel, and didn’t know when she’d sample it again. And finally, she had one more trick up her sleeve. 

Nancy placed one hand on each of Andre’s balls, knowing they’d telegraph his orgasm before it happened. Then she slid the hot dick back into her mouth. She began stroking in earnest with her lips, while massaging the underside of the head with her tongue.


Andre was in heaven. Whatever Becky was doing, it had never felt that good before. His cock was coated in hot, wet pleasure, and his balls were being massaged pleasantly. It didn’t take long before his orgasm finally welled up.

Nancy felt the swollen balls tighten in her hands. She increased the speed of her blow job. 

“Oh god…” Andre groaned. His pleasure was climaxing, and he was about to come. His mind pictured the giant, pent-up load of cum spurting into her waiting mouth. The image was delicious, and Andre felt the first tremor of semen evacuate his scrotum. 

At the last moment, Nancy slipped her fingers off Andre’s nuts, to a spot just behind them. She pushed upwards on his perineum, pinching off the tube that would allow the sperm to escape their swollen prison.

Andre’s orgasm screamed to a halt. The spot where the fingers touched his nuts was burning. His cock throbbed, his balls clenched mightily, but he did not come. It felt as if a train had wrecked in his lap. 

Nancy waited for the intense throbbing to stop, then removed her fingers. She gave Andre’s tool a farewell kiss, and stood up. 

Andre felt the lips detach. He heard footsteps heading towards the door.

“You’re not going to leave me like this?” Andre groaned. “What’s the matter with you?” His balls were in a state of agony. He felt like he was going to explode. 

But the mouth did not return. Andre heard hands grab the shed doors. He was pissed now, and wanted to say something more, or better yet, to glare at Becky when he could actually see her. But he knew what was coming, and decided to avoid a third blinding; Andre closed his eyes. 

Nancy whipped the doors open, hopped out, and swiftly closed them behind her. They shut with a clang. 

Wiping her mouth, Nancy smiled. Stage one of her plan had gone quite well indeed. 

~o~

The accelerator hovered just an inch or so above the floor of the little economy car. The engine whined. Becky slowed down on curves, but was nearly doubling the speed limit on the straight-aways. 

She was nearing Andre’s house when suddenly she jammed on the brakes, making the tires squeal. Her car careened around a corner, one that was frequently used as a speed trap by the local cops. 

Sure enough, there was a black-and-white parked on the shoulder, semi-hidden by the bushes. Becky passed by. She watched the rear-view breathlessly. 

The police car didn’t move. Becky jammed the accelerator to the floor again, and sped off towards Andre’s house. 

~o~

Nancy waited a few minutes before enacting Stage Two. Giddy with pleasure, she walked among the wildflowers growing near the house, humming merrily. The hum increased in volume, until she was singing an old tune from her youth. 

Finally, she neared the shed again. Still singing, she smiled at what must have been going through Andre’s head at that moment. 

Inside, Andre was sheet white. He had heard Becky run off, and then settled in for the long wait. He had been in the middle of trying to calculate the time it would take her, when he heard the humming. 

Such a happy noise had never sounded so scary to him in all his life. And when it turned to song, he knew without a doubt that it was Becky’s mother, Mrs. Wanek, AKA the Old Maid. She was in the backyard, and getting closer.

Then the singing stopped. Andre listened, muscles tense.

“Oh my,” her voice chimed from outside. “I wonder why the lock is off these doors.” 

Andre thrust back against the heavy trunk behind him, determined to break free of it’s damnable trap. His feet slipped on the dusty concrete floor, though, and it was in the middle of that flailing motion that the doors were flung wide. Andre closed his eyes.

Nancy peered in. She arched her eyebrows dramatically. 

“Andre?” Nancy asked, feigning surprise. Andre winced at the sound. He slowly opened his eyes. 

“Uh…hi Mrs. Wanek.” Andre said feebly. His face was beet red. He crossed his legs as best as he could, trying to hide his genitals. He failed, and his semi-erect cock stood straight up, pointing at the ceiling of the shed. As Mrs. Wanek’s eyes traveled up and down his body, he got redder, if possible.

“What are you doing in here?” Nancy asked, struggling to seem stunned. 

“Um…” Andre thought and thought, but no thoughts came. “Well, you see…” he started, then trailed off. Nancy bit her tongue, trying not to laugh. She really loved watching him squirm. 

“Please,” Nancy said, evening out her voice. She crossed her arms and put on her best ‘cross mother’ face. “Explain yourself.” 

~o~

Becky clawed through the toolbox in the back of Andre’s truck. There, at the bottom, was what she was looking for: a rusty old crowbar.

She yanked it up and leaped into her car, which she had left running. Becky stomped on the gas pedal and peeled out, sending gravel flying. 

~o~

“Well then I guess we’ll just have to wait for her.” Nancy said coolly. 

After Andre had explained things, Nancy had tried to lift the trunk. And despite her more sinister intentions, she actually did give it her all. It was just too heavy. 

“I knew that shelf would give out someday.” Nancy clucked. “Becky should have known better than to come in here and…” 

Nancy’s eyes traveled down Andre’s body again, down the muscles wet with sweat, down to the thick cock in his lap. It was relatively small now, having shrunken down considerably, as if hiding its head in shame. Nancy’s face flushed red, finally getting a good look at it, but she did not look away. Her eyes traveled next to the red scratches on Andre’s legs, which she surveyed with some satisfaction. 

She was enjoying seeing this beautiful young man naked and trapped. And he was in pain – she may have enjoyed that most of all. But under all that, she had a twinge of pity for him, too. 

“Here, let’s cover you up with something.” Nancy said, pulling a sheet off of an old chair. She laid it across Andre’s lap, covering his private parts.

“Thanks.” Andre said, trying to smile through a grimace of pain and embarrassment. 

“What’s in this thing that’s so heavy?” Andre asked. Nancy looked at the old green army trunk. She hadn’t opened it since before her husband had died, and really wasn’t sure what was in it. 

“I don’t even know.” She said. “The combination died with my husband.” 

“Oh,” Andre said, thinking. “Well, did your husband also put the lock on the shed door? Maybe he used the same combination.” he said hopefully. 

“Well, I doubt it.” Nancy said. In actuality, he idea really was pretty good. It’s just that part of her wanted the torture show to last a little longer. 

Sighing, Nancy reluctantly walked over to Andre. His back was to the trunk, but there was space between him and the washer, space she’d have to get in to look at the lock. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m going to have to squeeze behind you to get to it.” 

“Go ahead.” Andre said. The embarrassment of Mrs. Wanek pressed against his backside was less than his desire to get his hands free. His fingers felt like they were starting to go numb. 

Nancy ducked under Andre’s arm and squeezed behind him. As she inspected the front of the trunk, she felt his hard muscles pressing against her through the back of her robe. It felt shamefully good, and Andre couldn’t do anything about it, which made Nancy smile. Relishing the feeling it gave her, she pushed her rump slightly backwards into his. His ass pressed against hers through the robe, and it felt delicious. Her mind drifted back, thinking about how his flesh had felt under her hands, how his cock had tasted in her mouth. 

And then Nancy had a horrible realization. The episode before, in the dark, might as well have been just another fantasy. The hard truth was that the only physical contact Nancy could get from this hot young man was either by tricking him in the dark, or by touching him without his consent. 

That thought settled onto her mind like a winter storm, chilling the excitement and passion from before. Nancy’s body tensed, and she distanced it from Andre’s resentfully. Eager to get away from him, her fingers attacked the lock in front of her. She spun the wheel quickly left, then right. 

To her surprise, it clicked open. 

Nancy stood in shock for a moment. The trunk had sat there for years, unopened, collecting dust, holding god-knows-what. And now it was open. 

A sound of relief escaped Andre’s mouth behind her. Nancy slipped out from between him and the washer so that she could open it up. The lid was tight. She strained, and it lid came up with a creak and a puff of dust. Once the air settled, Nancy peered inside. 

She gasped.

“What? What’s in there?” Andre asked. He couldn’t turn his neck far enough around to see into the trunk. He could hear Nancy’s hands flipping through papers or something.

Nancy’s fingers shook with emotion. A handful of photographs fluttered to the floor. One of them tumbled in front of Andre and landed at his feet. He looked at it. 

The photo was of a young woman. It looked like Becky, but not quite. Andre realized it was Mrs. Wanek, when she was much younger. In the photo she was naked, her body draped seductively across a four-post bed. And what a body – it astonished Andre. Her full breasts were cradled in her arms, nipples stiff and perfect. Her waist was thin, swooping into womanly hips - a perfect hourglass figure. It was possibly the most erotic photo he’d ever seen. 

Nancy hadn’t noticed the photos fall to the floor. She was flipping through the ones in her shaking hands. It hurt so much to look at them, but she couldn’t stop. She had forgotten – probably on purpose – all about the photo shoots she did with her husband. He had been so adamant about capturing her beauty. “You’re not going to look like this forever.” He had repeated, time and time again. The words now rang in Nancy’s ears painfully. 

Blinking away tears, Nancy looked down and noticed the photos on the ground. Then she noticed the one that had made it’s way in front of Andre. He was looking at it, transfixed. 

And in his lap, the sheet that was covering his manhood had tented up.

Nancy stared at the hidden erection, boring holes into the sheet with her eyes. It made her livid, more angry than she had ever remembered feeling. Because here was cold, hard proof - proof of the effect she used to have on men. 

Her blood boiling, Nancy snatched the photo up. She glared at Andre.

“How dare you look at that. How dare you!” She hissed. Andre was terrified. Nancy wanted to smack him in the face. Then she had the urge to rip the sheet off and smack his genitals. 

She resisted both urges. Instead, she scooped up all the photos and jammed them back in their packet. She threw them inside the trunk and slammed the lid down. Andre winced.

“Uh…” He said, his voice a little shaky. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wanek. I…” His voice trailed off. He thought for a moment. “Are you going to empty the trunk out?” 

Nancy smiled, but Andre couldn’t see it. She leveled her voice. 

“I don’t think I can. Under the photos and papers is my husband’s set of free-weights. And I’m not strong enough to lift them out.” She said. “I’m afraid my body just isn’t what it used to be.” She added bitterly. 

Andre gulped. Maybe there were weights in the trunk, maybe not. But whatever the case, he realized that Mrs. Wanek was no longer interested in helping him get free. 

Silently, Andre prayed Becky would return soon.

~o~

The crowbar rested in the seat next to Becky. On curves, when she hit the brakes, she had to put her hand on it to keep it from flying onto the floor. Still, she was making great time, and should be back at her mother’s house in a jiffy. These thoughts filled her head as her car screamed around a certain, shrub-covered curve. 

A few moments later, red and blue blinking lights filled her rear-view mirror.

~o~

The silence in the shed was deafening. 

Andre remained in his awkward position, leaning back against the washer. Nancy stood across from him, leaning against the wall of the shed, perfectly still.

She stared at the photo in her hand. It was the one that Andre had seen, the one that had aroused him. It was painful for Nancy to think about, but she couldn’t take her eyes from it, from the image of her perfect, youthful body. 

Andre watched Mrs. Wanek. She seemed to be in a trance, her eyes locked on the photo. He felt sorry for her. The woman clearly had some issues. According to Becky, she hadn’t dated in ages. Her mother was fanatically into exercise and health food, but shied from men’s eyes and spent most of her time hiding the body she worked so hard to maintain. 

And to Andre, that was the most tragic part. If Mrs. Wanek was just suffering from some sort of physical hang-up, then it was almost completely in her head - as far as he could tell anyway. Although he hadn’t seen her naked, the woman in front of him was still incredibly attractive. 

In fact, even stuck in the shed, drowning in fear and embarrassment, Andre had to fight to keep himself from imagining what was under her robe. Part of it probably had to do with the fact that he was suffering from the worst case of blue-balls in the history of Western Civilization. But whatever the reason, his eyes kept drifting to the tightly wrapped body in front of him, the cotton material hugging the obviously sensuous curves beneath.

Meanwhile, Nancy was in her own little world, one that existed many years ago. Staring at the photo, she had taken herself back to that time. As her mind played out her former life, Nancy realized she was about to cry. 

She took a deep breath, remembering where she was. She refused to shed any tears in front of the young man, and blinked them back angrily. Looking at the picture made it impossible, though, so she wrenched her eyes away and looked around the shed. Her gaze finally settled on Andre. 

And he was likewise looking at her. But not at her face. 

Andre was looking at her body. 

Nancy’s tear-blurred vision snapped into focus. She watched Andre like a hawk, trying to figure out the nature of his attention. Nancy rationalized that because she was standing right in front of him, he had little else to look at. But the more she watched him, the more she learned. Soon she identified the look, like a detective making a positive I.D. on her prime suspect. Verdict: he wasn’t just staring. 

Andre was checking her out. 

Through the gloom in her mind, Nancy felt a tiny glimmer of light. In the hard shell that she had built up around herself and her body, a tiny crack appeared. 

Andre’s eyes appraised her bosom. Then drifted down to her hips. He continued on down, below the robe, to her bare knees and calves. 

Nancy felt his gaze. It felt warm, like the sun coming out after years of clouds and rain. Here was a well-built, attractive young man, and he was interested in looking at her. Not at a photo of her in her youth, but at her body, now, in its middle-age. Nancy was stunned. Without realizing it, her fingers let go of the photo she had been holding. 

The photograph fluttered through the air, tumbling down. It caught Andre’s attention. As it fell, he realized Nancy had woken from her trance, and had been watching him watch her. That was bad. The photo quietly landed on the floor of the shed, face down. Like a harbinger of doom, a tiny puff of dust welled up.

Panicking, Andre’s eyes met Nancy’s. He was caught. He flinched, looking down. 

Nancy flinched too. The sun that had been warming her body seemed to go behind a cloud. Her elation, so precariously built, teetered. 

She wanted his attention back. She craved it. Her desire for this young man to look at her body eclipsed her anger, eclipsed her plots and wicked daydreams. She suddenly had to have his eyes back on her, at all costs.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Nancy’s hands doing something. He knew he was in trouble – she had caught him looking at her, caught him desecrating that temple which she worked so hard to keep concealed. Perhaps, Andre thought, the woman had finally snapped and was getting ready to strangle him. 

Meanwhile, Nancy had her hands on the soft cotton material at her neck. Taking a breath, she pulled the robe open at the top. It fell off her shoulders and bunched up where she held it tight at her waist, exposing her upper body to the young man in front of her. 

Andre knew what she had done, but he didn’t know why. He was scared. It had to be some sort of trap. He kept his eyes on the floor. 

“Look at me.” Nancy said. 

It wasn’t a request. Andre debated, confused. Finally his eyes raised, but they darted straight up to Nancy’s eyes, avoiding her body. 

Nancy’s face was a mix of anxiety and hope. She didn’t try to hide it. But she noticed Andre was avoiding looking at her chest. Her confidence wavered, and cynicism reared its ugly head. What had she been thinking? 

“Look at my breasts.” Nancy’s voice fluttered, trying not to let the despair creep in. So exposed, so close to humiliation, she was again about to cry. 

Andre could sense the tension in her voice, but he couldn’t read what was going on inside the woman’s head. He didn’t want to witness her fury again, but he didn’t know which path would lead him to safety. Finally, he obeyed. His eyes slid down her neck to her bosom. 




Baggage



The look on Andre’s face told Nancy everything. 

Her skin raised in temperature. Excitement flooded into her body. Her shell - the years of hard, solid bitterness – started to crack apart.

Andre’s eyes devoured the female form in front of him, yet his mind was freaking out. He was sure in a moment Nancy would start screaming at him, or slap him, or worse. But until then, his eyes wouldn’t let go. 

Nancy’s breasts were beautiful. Round, heavy, pendulous. They sagged a little, but it gave them a mature, womanly weight. Andre had never seen anything like it. 

Nancy drank in Andre’s look, but she was still thirsty. She wanted more. 

She thought about her ass – the ass that was just a little too big. The ass that she hid under long t-shirts, and concealed beneath sweaters tied around her waist. The ass that she desperately wanted Andre to look at. 

Nancy pivoted her body slightly, giving Andre a profile view. With trembling hands, she reached back and pulled up the back of her robe, tugging it over the curve of her rump. With the material bunched up on her lower back, her hindquarters were completely exposed. Nancy felt a trill of nervousness, but pushed her round ass out, watching his eyes go to it. 

Andre took it in. It wasn’t a perfect ass - perhaps a little robust - but the two curves had a luscious, warm weight to them. Like her breasts, Nancy’s rump had a sexy maturity to it that was hard to define. 

Looking over her shoulder, Nancy read Andre’s look. It spoke volumes, all of it good. 

It was shameful how wonderful it made her feel to see that. Nancy felt so vain for wanting this young man’s approval, but at the same time her body was throbbing with delight. She felt like a girl at confession, who had been holding back all her terrible sins, letting them fester inside. Only to discover, when she confessed them, that they weren’t sins after all. 

But there was one last sin she had to confess. One last area to expose to this young man – an area she had never, even in her youth, felt very secure about exposing. An area that now, in her later years, represented her deepest insecurity. 

While Andre’s eyes lingered on her behind, Nancy’s hands nervously fidgeted with the material of robe that hid her thighs, and hid the area of flesh between them. Her fingers locked up for a moment, and she had the urge to pull the robe back on and bolt out of the shed. 

But there was no going turning back now. She had to go on. She turned to face Andre. His eyes went to hers again, watching her, trying to understand her actions. 

Slowly, Nancy’s fingers reached down and undid the knot at her waist. Taking a final deep breath, she pulled the robe apart, holding it wide open. 

Andre did not look. As much as he enjoyed viewing Mrs. Wanek’s other curves, he became acutely aware that she was now basically completely naked in front of him. He was still wary of this woman, of what was going on. Nancy sensed his hesitation.

“Look at me.” She asked, her voice trembling. The commanding tone from before had melted into a plea. Andre wanted to heed it, but he was unsure of where all this was going. 

“Please.” Nancy begged. 

Finally, she felt his eyes moving. His gaze glided down her chest, lingering there, then hovered over her belly. Then it slid down, appraising her thighs. And finally it came to rest, nestled between her legs. 

Andre’s reaction was hard to read. There was no immediate glow of appreciation. 

Nancy shifted her thighs nervously, feeling a hundred little voices of insecurity rising up like a tsunami, threatening to drown her. She waited for what seemed like an age, but Andre’s expression was blank. 

Inside, the young man struggled to conceal what he was thinking and feeling. To acknowledge it would be to cross some imaginary line that until now he had stayed behind. While the world seemed to have stopped in the little shed, he knew it had not. Becky would arrive soon, and he’d have to face her. And he’d have to face his own actions every time he saw Becky or Mrs. Wanek from this day forward. So though he knew Nancy was waiting for his reaction, Andre just couldn’t bring himself to reveal it. 

And in the end, he didn’t have to. Slowly, in his lap, the sheet tented up. 

Nancy almost fainted when she saw the erection rising in Andre’s lap. Her heart was singing! Her entire body flushed hot and then cold again. This dear, dear boy was getting hard in front of her, just from looking at her body. 

Andre shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his cock to desist. And as his legs moved, the sheet slipped off his lap, exposing him. 

Nancy loved it. Andre’s cock stood at proud attention in his lap, and it was beautiful to see. This was no plot – no trick of the darkness or imagination. Her body had done that – her body had filled his cock with hot blood. She was actually smiling, happiness beaming on her face. 

Andre saw the delight Nancy was taking in his reaction, and finally gave in to his thoughts and feelings regarding Nancy’s body. There was no hiding them now – his flesh had betrayed him. 

In truth, he was filled with lust. Nancy’s thighs were soft and curvy. Her pussy was flawless – it was the most perfect, delicate flower he had ever seen. 

Nancy basked in his look. His gaze was loving, caressing her pussy lips, touching her, slipping across her flesh. And as his eyes ravished her form, she felt her delight melting into pleasure, melting into lust. The lust boiled up, and took hold of her vocal chords. 

“Do you…want me?” Nancy asked, her voice a whisper.

“What?” Andre asked, startled. 

“Do you want me?” Nancy asked again, her voice barely audible. For all the crazy light and bells inside, she was scared of the answer. 

Andre’s eyes flitted back and forth, from her eyes to the spot between her legs. Finally, he answered. 

“Yes.” he whispered back. 

The sound poured in Nancy’s ears like hot liquid, bubbled through her brain, and gushed into the rest of her body. She let go of the robe, and it dropped to the floor in a heap. 

She stepped forward quickly, bare feet padding across the dusty concrete. Climbing up onto the trapped young man, she pulled herself up his muscular body, straddling his thighs. 

Nancy reached down and wrapped her fingers around Andre’s cock. It pulsed in her hand. She could feel his young blood coursing through his veins. She felt pride, a sense of co-ownership of that hot blood, something she had helped create. And now she wanted to take possession of it. 

She didn’t hesitate. Nancy took his cock and pressed it to her opening. She was wet, wet, wet, and it slipped right in. The hot thickness drove into her, and she gasped in delight, greeting the intrusion like an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. 

Nancy’s breasts heaved against Andre’s chest, pressing against his muscles. Her nipples rubbed against his, sending hot shivers through her body. Her hands clutched his muscular shoulders, supporting her weight as she lowered herself onto him fully. 

His length filled her up. She squeezed it with her inner muscles, hugging it, devouring it inside her. Her pussy seemed to melt around it, conforming to its shape, binding her body to his. And where their flesh met, she could feel her pleasure solidifying, like a diamond being formed by intense pressure and heat. Nancy became almost reluctant to move, for fear of shattering that perfect crystal of ecstasy. 

But her mind was overthrown; her body wanted the hot friction of sex. Knowing Andre was helpless, Nancy took it upon herself to begin. She slowly moved her hips up in his lap, pussy clenched, tugging on his cock. Then she slid back down, driving it up inside her, sending red electric sparks bouncing around in her channel.

Nancy’s body responded beautifully, quickly remembering the almost-forgotten nuances of sex. It was like riding a bike, she thought, only way more fun. Nancy articulated her hips, feeling the different kinds of sweet friction, sampling the different motions. 

But she kept increasing the speed, thrusting herself upon him faster and faster, ramping up the pleasure. Nancy could feel Andre’s body reacting to hers, could see the lust painted on his face. In response, she turned it up another notch. The young man had unwittingly set her body free, and she wanted to reward him, to reward them both.

Once she really got going, the sex was torrential. Nancy fucked the young man under her, fucked him for all she was worth. Her muscles ached with the exertion as she rode him, thrusting herself up and down on his pillar of meat. And then her first orgasm welled up, like a red hot nova, radiating out from her clit. 

Nancy came with a shudder, but dared not to stop. This young man had earned her – earned everything she could give him. Her thighs burned, her breasts ached from the bouncing, but she continued. She clung to him for support, sending all her strength into her legs so she could keep pleasuring him, keep rewarding him. She fucked and fucked, and another orgasm ripped through her body. 

Andre’s cock was throbbing with pleasure, drinking in every fevered stroke of Nancy’s pussy. He could feel the hot velvet of her interior rubbing him, massaging him, devouring him over and over again as it pumped his length. 

Meanwhile his eyes watched Nancy’s beautiful breasts, swelling and heaving against him. He wished desperately that he could move his hands up and touch them, hold their warm weight and massage the little pleasure crowns. 

Nancy woke from her haze of ecstasy long enough to catch Andre’s look. He was hungry for her breasts, and she wanted to feed him. She pushed her chest up, giving his mouth access. Andre’s lips burned on her skin, kissing her cleavage. Then his tongue licked up into the sensitive area between her breasts, tickling her. 

Andre loved the taste of Nancy’s flesh. He licked and sucked every inch that presented itself, coating her breasts in a glaze of hot saliva. His mouth danced over to her nipple. With his mouth locked on the peak of her breast, Nancy came again. She ground her ass into his lap, pressing him deep, deep, deep inside her as her pussy convulsed. 

Andre felt her orgasm, the biggest yet. As she drove his pillar up inside her, he watched the pleasure crash over her body, felt her bury her mound into his lap, spearing his length deep into her.

With his cock buried to the hilt in Nancy’s body, Andre came. His balls had been aching for release all morning, and now they convulsed. The seed inside was finally free, and it gushed out in a torrent.

Nancy felt the hot cum jetting into her. It was delicious. Andre was blessing her body with his most sacred fluid. There was no self-doubt left in her mind - she had turned him on, pleasured him, and fucked him to climax. All in the open light of day, and all with a body she had thought sadly beyond its prime. 

Flexing her inner muscles, she milked his cock, her body drinking his fluid thirstily. The load, built up from a full day of teasing, continued to gush. Nancy rode it out, milking and milking, until she could feel his cum spilling out of her pussy, down his length and onto his thighs. The hot liquid felt like her own pent-up river of lust, finally gushing out of her. 

Nancy milked it until there was no more. Then she slowed her motions. Her thighs burned, and she was coated in sweat. Panting, she slumped her body against his. 

They hung like that for a little while, together, their breath slowing, the sweat cooling on their skin. 

~o~

The shed was silent. Nancy looked up, into Andre’s eyes. They both smiled, post-coital happiness twinkling between them. 

And then the sound they had both been dreading arrived: the sound of a car on the road, approaching the house.

Nancy felt Andre’s body tense under her. If time had stopped in the little shack, it now came rocketing back to life. 

She slipped his cock out of her pussy and dismounted his body. Questions bubbled through her mind, but first and foremost was: Would he tell her daughter? Her eyes connected with his. 

Andre’s eyes reflected the same concerns back at her. Without words, they nodded in agreement at what to do.

Nancy snatched her robe up off the floor, tugging it on. Then she looked down at Andre’s lap. His cock was glistening with the evidence of their pleasure. Using the edge of her robe, Nancy gently cleaned him up, wiping up the wetness. When she finished, she knew it was time to go. She wanted to say more, to talk about things, but there was no time. 

Nancy leaned forward and gave Andre kiss. 

“Thank you.” She said softly. Andre smiled. 

Nancy darted outside. She pulled the shed doors closed behind her, then rushed across the lawn to the house. Just as Nancy slipped inside, Becky came around the corner, carrying the crowbar. 

She walked slowly, peering around warily for her mother. Not seeing anyone, Becky hurried to the shed doors. She opened the lock and slipped inside. 

“Andre?” She whispered, her eyes straining to adjust to the light. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” He said. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah. Sorry it took me so long. I got a ticket.” Becky said, moving forward. She wedged the crowbar between the trunk and the washer, and put her weight on it. 

Andre slipped one hand free. It throbbed painfully, but felt good to be loose. Becky repeated her action, freeing the other. 

“Better?” Becky asked, taking Andre’s poor hands in hers. She kissed them. 

“Yeah, much. Thanks.” He said. Becky knew he meant it, but there was something unsettled in his voice. Becky sniffed the air.

“God, it still smells like sex in here.” She said. Andre tensed. Becky whispered, “It kind of turns me on, makes me want to pick up where we left off.” 

“Uh…” Andre said, knowing he was in no condition to do so. 

Becky laughed. “But maybe we better call it quits for this afternoon, you think?” 

“Good idea.” Andre said. He kissed Becky, and it felt warm and familiar. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell Becky, or when, but after the day’s insane events, he was happy things felt quasi-normal for a moment. 

~o~

A few weeks later, Andre and Becky were curled up in front of the TV, watching a movie. Becky was asleep, and Andre was nodding off. Then he felt a touch on his shoulder. 

“Andre?” Nancy asked quietly. Andre looked up. He had seen Mrs. Wanek several times in the past few weeks, but they had rarely spoken. Their afternoon of passion was already fading into a distant memory. 

“I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Nancy asked. 

“Sure.” He said, and extracted himself from Becky. She woke up anyway.

“What’s going on?” Becky asked sleepily. 

“Oh, I was just going to have your man here help me take that old trunk to the curb. You know, your father’s old army trunk?” She asked innocently. Becky nodded.

“Yeah, I know the one.” She said, giving Andre a sly look. Then she curled up again. “Have fun.” She said, drifting off.

~o~

Outside, Andre and Nancy lugged the heavy trunk over and dropped it on the curb with a heavy thunk. 

“Good riddance.” Nancy said. Andre looked at the trunk, a little wistfully.

“You’re getting rid of all of it?” He asked. Even those amazing photos, he thought. Nancy saw his look and smiled.

“Well, not quite all.” She said, and held out something for Andre. He took it. It was the photo he had seen, of Nancy, naked, stretched out on the big four-poster bed. 

“Thanks.” Andre said. He enjoyed seeing the picture again, now for entirely different reasons. 

“No, thank you.” Nancy said. He touched Andre’s hand and clasped it, just for a moment, then let it go. 

The two walked back to the house. Andre returned to Becky’s side in front of the TV. 

And Nancy returned to the upstairs bedroom, to curl up next to her new boyfriend – the young plumber’s assistant who sometimes came around. 

~o~