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Bagging Lauren

By: komrad1156



Preface

Sharing my May-December escapades has been very enjoyable. I had many successes but not every attempt turned out well. After an amazing success with one of my teachers and then with a cousin who was twice my age, I hit a dead end with a former best friend's aunt. In fact, "hit" is the operative word.

My best friend from elementary school and I drifted apart in junior high when he chose new friends who were getting high and doing things in which I had no interest. We remained cordial with one another; we just stopped spending time together. So much so that I was unaware he'd enlisted in the Air Force right after graduation from high school.

I was driving past his house one afternoon when I decided on a whim to stop by and see if he was there. His younger sister, Debbie, answered the door and let me in. She told me he wasn't in because he was in Texas and then explained why. She told me, "He's been in basic training for a month now. " We spent a few minutes reminiscing and catching up when the front opened without a knock. I expected her mom but it was actually her Aunt Donna, an attractive woman of about 45.

Debbie told me she'd been asked to the junior prom by a guy she'd been crushing hard on but didn't know how to dance. Coincidentally, her aunt dropped by at that exact time I was there to give her a few pointers. I was going to excuse myself when Donna said, "No! Please don't go on my account. I won't be long. I just wanted to give Deborah some quick pointers on slow dancing." I told her I could use some help in that department, too, and she said, "Then it's settled. I'll help both of you while I'm here!"

After a few minutes of Donna's tutelage on the basics, she volunteered to be my partner to see if I'd picked up anything at all. I wasn't a good dancer but I did had a little bit of experience thanks to my high school friends in the Mormon Church who occasionally invited to church-sponsored dances. Even so, I pretended to have two left feet in hopes of finagling a private lesson at her house down the road. I tried not to be too obvious by just stepping all over her feet but I was bad enough to get her to say (rather reluctantly), "Oh, my. That's not too bad, Cal, but you're going to need a little more work and unfortunately, I don't have any extra time right now. But Deborah? You're doing great! Your young man is going to be very impressed.

As Donna was leaving, I told Debbie I'd better scoot, too, and followed Donna outside. As we got to our cars I said, "Oh, let me get that for you" and stepped around to her side to open the door. 

"Thank you, Cal! You've become quite the young gentleman since the last time I saw you—what was it—three years ago?"

"Six, actually."

"Really? It's been that long? Oh, my goodness how time flies. Well, you certainly do look good and it was nice seeing you."

She slid into the driver's seat and before I closed her door I asked, "Is there any chance I might actually get a bit more help with my dancing? I mean, if you can even call it that."

Donna laughed and said, "Of course. I'd be glad to help. What works for you?"

To my surprise, she agreed to meet the next afternoon at her place at 2pm which meant her husband, Jim, would be at work or maybe even out of town. I showed up with high expectations and I was brimming with confidence having conquered two other very attractive, middle-aged women in the last six months. I also had a girlfriend who was in college and now home for the summer but like Jell-O, there was always room for more when it came to attractive women. And Donna seemed ripe for the picking!

After a few minutes of small talk, Donna reviewed the basics with me again then put on some music we could dance to. This time, I put my best foot forward (pun intended) and although I wouldn't be winning any contests, Donna was duly impressed. "Wow! What a difference a day makes! Where's that other left foot you showed me yesterday?"

"You're a great teacher," I told her as we continued dancing. Based on our small talk, I got the distinct impression her husband was gone a lot and when he was home, not all that engaged with his very nice-looking wife. I felt even more emboldened to see if I might add another notch to my belt at the end of the second song.

During the middle of that second tune, I pulled Donna's hand in and held it against my chest. There was no resistance. I then let go of it and as if on cue, she put her arms around my neck and moved in very close to me. I was convinced this was yet another lonely, middle-aged woman in need of some afternoon delight so as we got near the end of the song I moved my head back and said, "You know, this is really nice. Thank you for spending time with me."

Donna smiled and I was totally wowed by her perfect teeth and still very pretty face. "It was my pleasure, Cal. I can't imagine any middle-aged woman not enjoying the company of a very handsome, younger man."

The last bars were playing and our eyes were still locked as I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. As my eyes were closing I sensed hers opening wide and as our lips met, she pulled back sharply and slapped me across the face. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? I'm a married woman and I have NO interest in you like—that! You need to leave right now!"

I didn't apologizing or even bother speaking. I just quietly picked up my jacket and left her standing there pointing at the door.

Okay. So I was now two for three. Any baseball player would be ecstatic to have that kind of batting average and as the song said "two out of three ain't bad."

Little did I know number three was just around the corner and that my Mormon girlfriend, Karen Moreland, would be the one to introduce me to another member of the local Mormon church, Mrs. Lauren Bagwell.

Chapter 1

Summer brought other changes, as well. The first was that Karen was home for the summer. That meant I had a hot young girl to bang almost anytime I wanted. The only downside was her Mormon faith led her to constantly mention (prior to our fucking) how wrong it was for her to let me fuck her. That got old very fast. 

The second was the fact that the teacher I'd been banging whenever her husband was out of town was now my former teacher. Of course, being married meant that was really a distinction without a difference because news of the affair would still end her career and her marriage. Like Karen, she mentioned our age difference and student/teacher relationship ALL the fucking time and I was getting sick of that, too.

The third was that my now-37 year old cousin, Nancy, who also kept brining up our age difference and the fact that we were related.

I now faced the impossible dilemma of balancing three sexual relationships while trying not to let the other two find out. It reminded me of a very old movie starring Tony Curtis called "Boeing, Boeing" in which he had a revolving door of flight attendants (or stewardesses as they were called in 1965) and his attempts at keeping them all apart.

Faced with the impossibility of juggling all of this, I finally told both older women they were absolutely right and that we had to end this. In both cases, they seemed genuinely relieved and yet both of them begged me stay and fuck them one more time. Well, okay. I can do that. 

During the two weeks of summer in the greater Seattle area, it can actually get very warm. Every ten years or so, it even gets hot for a day or two when the temperatures rise above 90 degrees. Most years, a few days in the mid-80s is considered a heat wave. This particular summer brought a very unusual five-day stretch of that kind of "blistering heat."

I was getting ready to go to college myself. I'd been accepted to the University of Washington and coming from a dirt-poor family, I had to save enough money to pay for my education myself. I wanted to be an engineer and my primary interest was computer engineering. In order to save money, I worked full-time on a dairy farm milking cows, baling hay, shoveling silage (and a lot of shit), and doing other odd jobs. I was always on the lookout for other work that would bring in some extra cash. Karen was really good about talking me up to folks at her local church ("ward" in Mormon speak) and I got several jobs painting houses, mowing lawns, and hanging drywall.

The hardest job turned out to be for a woman named Lauren Bagwell who was also a Mormon. She was married to an airline pilot who gone a LOT. In fact, I later learned that he volunteered to fly as money hours a month as FAA regulations allowed in spite of the fact that they had no children and more money than they could ever spend. It's VERY unusual for Mormons not to have a bunch of children. Having none almost always indicated fertility problems and this was no exception. Lauren wouldn't tell me who was at "fault" but I suspected it was probably her husband. I'll explain why later.

Lauren and her husband, Reed, lived on a huge sprawl of land in the suburbs of King County. They had some 80 acres of land and all of it was fenced in. Many of the fence posts were in dire need of repair and quite few others needed to be replaced altogether. One Sunday evening, Karen told me that "Sister Bagwell" wanted to hire me to take of this for her so she set up a meeting with her for me on Monday after I finished working on the farm.

I got there around 6pm which was as early as I could after going home, taking a bath (we had running water but no shower), and eating dinner first. Her home reminded me a lot of the home of my other Mormon friend, Sterling, whose dad was also a pilot but for a different airline. He loaned me two horses on my first date with my cousin Nancy so I could surprise her with something that didn't cost a lot of money. That and a key to his dad's cabin on the lake allowed me to make love with her once I was able to make her special after a long run with jerks who'd all treated her poorly. 

I pulled into the long driveway and parked next to their four-car garage. I walked up the long sidewalk to the front entrance admiring the variety of flowers and topiary trees. I rang the doorbell and waited. A moment later a VERY attractive woman of about 40 opened the door and absolutely dazzled me with her smile. "Hi! I'm Lauren. You must be Cal. Please come in. Karen has told me so much about you. Thank you for coming. This is a really big job."

I couldn't believe the size of the enormous glass paned windows or the incredible amount of landscaping all around the property. Inside, there were massive wooden beams all along the ceiling and everything in the house was very high end. I thanked her for hiring me and asked her to show me what needed to be done. As we made our way through the 7,500sqft house, I could help but notice what Lauren was wearing. I've explained my "sweater fetish" more than once so I'll just recap by saying that I'm a sucker for anything that's form fitting with a ribbed-knit look to it. It need not be a sweater, per se. Just a knit top that fits snugly and shows off my favorite part of a woman's anatomy—her boobs. I should note here that Mormon men and women wear underwear they call temple garments. I like to refer to them as "magic jammies" but my Latter-day Saint friends don't appreciate my humor in that regard. These garments cover a woman from her neck to the top of her knee and make it impossible to wear anything with thin straps. It's even hard to wear something sleeveless but a top with cap sleeves will cover up the jammies quite nicely. That's important because what she wore on our first night together told me she wasn't wearing her garments—a huge no-no for any Latter-day Saint.

Lauren was wearing a white, rib-knit top with cap sleeves, and black short pants that went to the middle of her calves. She had a nice, tight waistline and a perfect ass to boot. Her face was just drop-dead gorgeous and it was not only still free of wrinkles but framed by a hair that was a beautiful shade of light red head. I suppose it would be called strawberry blonde but I'm not sure about that. 

She wore just the right amount of makeup and as I said, she had a perfect smile and soft, full lips. Unlike my English teacher who'd long since abandoned her Mormon faith, Lauren was very much active in church affairs. Getting in bed with this woman looked a lot like climbing Mount Impossible but in spite of my setback with Donna, my two conquests gave me the confidence I needed to try. It was definitely game on!

We reached the back of the house which led out onto a huge deck which in turn led to a very large patio then out toward an enormous building which was a barn for their three horses and other supplies. Lauren chatted politely as we walked. When we reached the barn, she asked if I minded pulling open the very large and very heavy front door. "Not at all," I assured her. I grabbed the large metal handle and gave it a pull. It was on rollers so it slid very easily. In fact, it slid SO easily I had to grab it and slow it down before it slammed into the other side.

"Karen told me you lift weights, but I didn't think you could tear off my barn door!" Lauren teased. "The good news is you'll need all those muscles to put in the 200 fence posts we have stacked in here." I followed her inside and in the large, open area to our right was a humongous stack of wooden fence posts.

I knew better than to swear so I just whistled and said, "Holy cow. You weren't kidding, Mrs. Bagwell. That's a LOT of posts."

Lauren laughed politely and said, "Please call me Lauren, okay Cal? I just turned 40 last month and already feel old. The last thing I need are guys your age calling me Mrs."

That was my first in-road with this beautiful woman! "Okay, I'll do that, and thank you—Lauren. And for the record, I can assure you that no one who's seen you would believe you're anywhere near 40. Had you said you just turned 30, I might have believed you. Even then I'd still wonder."

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you're an honest young man Cal, but we Latter-day Saints don't care too much for telling lies." Lauren was feigning being serious. She paused for a moment and added, "Even when they're the polite kind of lies many call the 'white' variety. But thank you for that. It was nice to have an attractive young man say something so sweet whether or not he actually believes it."

"Oh, he definitely believes it, Mrs. Bag....Lauren. Trust me on that, okay?"

She laughed politely again then changed the subject. "Okay, these are all the new posts and over here is the tractor and trailer you'll need to move them around the property. As you can see, it has an auger on the back which you can use to deepen any existing hole or to dig a new one. And here's the chain for pulling out the old ones." She kept walking and talking. "Over here we have everything else you'll need like barbed wire, staples, and other stuff you'll need to tighten or replace the fence."

After that, she asked me if I'd like to drive or ride along on the tractor. "Guess I better learn to drive," I answered.

"I can do that," Lauren announced. "Can you help me up?" she asked.

I offered her my hand. She used it to steady herself and then stepped up and onto the tractor itself. "You go ahead and sit down and I'll stand behind you and be your backseat driver."

We both laughed. Lauren patiently showed me how to start it up, put in gear, and use the auger in back. After that short tutorial we did a whirlwind tour of their huge ranch and I got a feel for where all the new posts would go. The best part of the tutorial was that she kept her hands on my shoulders to steady herself as we bounded along through the fields.

"It's light until after 9 o'clock this time of year but since you said you'll likely be out much later than that, we have a portable LED tripod you can set up in the trailer back here," she said pointing to the large wagon following us around. She showed me how to set that up and use it, too, as part of the free tour.

I dropped her back at the house and told her I'd like to get started. She said she'd go in and fill up a large container with ice water for me and be right back. I pulled the trailer up next to the stack of posts, jumped out, and got ready to start transferring them to the trailer. It was one of those unusually hot days so I pulled off my shirt and tee-shirt, put on my gloves and starting moving wood.

I'd almost finished the first load when I noticed Lauren come around the front of the barn bent over from the weight of this huge cooler. I tossed the post I was carrying into the trailer and said, "Hold on! I'll get that for you." I trotted out to where she was and grabbed the orange cooler and said, "You should have told me you needed this carried out for you."

Lauren walked alongside me and said, "I may be old but I'm not helpless, you know." Again, we both laughed. I set the cooler up on the tractor and got ready to mount up again before she said, "Besides, if you'd come in with me then I'd have missed the Chippendale show you were putting on. I knew you were a weight lifter but I had no idea." She smiled but it wasn't a lurid kind of smile. 

I lowered my head in what still wasn't a false modesty. I was learning to accept the new me but so many years of being overweight and having terribly, protruding teeth meant this wasn't coming easily for me. I did know enough to accept a compliment when offered and told Lauren, "Well, thank you. I hadn't planned to do a strip tease. It's just that it's very warm..."

Lauren cut me off. "Oh no! It's okay. I was totally teasing about the Chippendale thing. I only said it because it's the first thing that came to mind when I saw your..." She was clearly very uncomfortable. "I mean, it's just that it's really obvious that you work out." She now seemed even more uncomfortable. "Wow. Did I just say that? How cliché, right? It's the old movie line: Oh, do you work out? I can't believe I did that. But then in your case, you really do work out, so.... I better stop while I'm only slightly behind here. As they say, if you're in a hole, stop digging, right?"

It was now my turn to laugh. "You're a very nice lady, Lauren. I love when a woman can make me laugh." I made eye contact with her again and just as I did I noticed her eyes move up from looking at my chest to my face. Lauren was now clearly embarrassed.

"Oh, my goodness. I'm just gonna go back inside where I can't do or say anything else foolish." Lauren gestured toward the house using both arms as her thumbs pointed to where she wanted to go.

"Use the walkie-talkie if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll see you when you're done, okay, Cal?"

"Roger that, ma'am!" I said. I kind of saluted as I fired up the tractor and Lauren kind of returned my salute. More importantly, her smile seemed ever-so slightly different this time. It was somehow...softer.

It was after 11pm when I pulled back into the barn. I'd gotten about 25 posts in and the wire back in place. At this pace, I'd be here working nights until school started. I threw my t-shirt back on and carried my shirt in my hand. It was still warm and that was unusual in this part of the country. 

Lauren was still up when I closed up the barn and she came out on the patio again to thank me.

"It was my pleasure," I reassured her as I returned the cooler. 

"Would you like something else before you go?" she asked me. "Something else to drink or maybe a sandwich?"

"Thank you very much. That's very tempting," I told her. "Honestly though, I have to get up at 5am to be at work by six so can I take a raincheck?"

"Of course!" she said. "How far did you get tonight?"

I told her how much progress I made and she seemed thrilled. "Wonderful!" she said. "At this rate, you'll be done in no time!"


Bagging Lauren - Again



*Note to readers. I've written several stories about my life beginning with a pretty substantial physical transformation I went through just before my senior year of high school through an affair I had with my married English teacher followed by an affair with a married Mormon woman. Creative Writing is the account of the first affair while the second was told in Bagging Lauren. When I wrote it, the title just jumped out at me. After some reflection, I regret the choice of words because "Lauren" was a beautiful, sensual woman and the title makes it sound cheap and sleazy. That said, the title is set in stone, so I'm sticking with it in this fictional account.

I rarely spend time thinking about the past as it's a colossal waste of time. If you've read either of the two stories I mentioned, you know my early past was fairly challenging. My family was literally dirt poor, and I was just about the most unattractive and most picked-on kid in school until 12th grade. However, as I've written and shared these personal stories, they've caused me to reflect on the past and remember the good times. 

This is a story about how things might have went had I not married the woman of my dreams whom I met in South Carolina just before I left active duty in the Marine Corps. She was everything I ever wanted in a woman and more, yet we ended up divorcing when her need to be dominated got to be more than I could take. (I also returned to an old temptation which further sealed our fate even though it was the cause of the divorce.) I've written about those events too, in stories called Making Changes, Offering Me Claire, and The Agreement. They happened in real life and are therefore written in the first person. This story is one version of what I wish might have happened. Since it's fictitious, it's written in the third person even though I'm the main character—or jerk. :-)

__________

"Dude! Turn on your television right now."

"Okay, hold on." Cal reached for the remote and hit the 'on' button. "Which channel?"

"Fox. She does the weather. Hurry before she's off."

"Fox? You gotta be shittin' me," he told his best friend as he changed the channel. As soon as it came in clearly, he knew why Garrett asked him to turn it on. 

"Damn! She really is hot," he said.

"I told you, didn't I? She's like the hottest MILF I've ever seen," Garrett Benson said authoritatively. "She's 45 years old and looks like she's 30. I mean, she is just smokin' hot! I'm finally getting why you're into older women, dude."

Cal Petersen had seen her before while he was flipping through the channels and he had to agree. Having had affairs with two older, married women while he was still in high school, he'd had a thing for older women ever since.

"Yeah, she's really beautiful, Garrett. Now, back to reality. Who's driving today? Me or you?"

"It's my turn, but I told you I'm going to the Zumba class today. Did you forget?" Garrett asked reminded him.

"You were serious about that? Zumba? Jesus, Garrett. Who's gonna spot me?"

"Dude, you can ask any of the chicks who are always hittin' on you to do that. Or just grab another guy standing near you. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have to bench 450 instead of 475 once, would it?"

"Fuckin' asshole," he said. "Seriously, why are you doing this?"

"I told you already. That's why I called you. There's a new Zumba instructor and she looks like that MILF on Fox. I'm gonna check her out—up close and personal, you know."

"Why can't you just look through the window on your way in and out? Why do have to fuck me over just to look at some woman who won't even look back at you?" Petersen asked with a little bit of irritation in his voice.

"It's just this one time, okay? Jesus. Get the sand out of your pussy already. Aren't you a Marine?"

"Former Marine, but yeah, the title's for life. But that doesn't mean jarheads don't get pissed off at their disloyal—friends." Sarcasm dripped from the final word.

"Okay, fine! I'll work out with you, but I'm definitely gonna be checking her out between sets. Is that good enough for you or do you still need to go douche?"

"Fuck you," Petersen told him then said, "See you at two o'clock, right?"

"Yep. See you then."

Today was chest and back, Cal's second favorite workout. The only thing he enjoyed more was leg day. When he first started lifting in high school, he hated working out his legs. Over time, it became the thing he enjoyed the most while the majority of guys who lifted were into biceps and pecs. Petersen's chest looked great, as did his arms, back, and shoulders, but legs were the shit. 

He was on his last set of when Benson said, "Holy shit! There she is!"

Petersen had 460lbs on the bar and had done four reps. He was going for a fifth when Garrett lost focus. Petersen's entire upper body was quivering as he pushed to get that last rep, but it wasn't going up. As he slowly lost the battle he grunted, "A little help here shit for brains!" Benson looked down and saw the bar was almost on his friend's throat when he grabbed it with both hands and helped lift it up.

Petersen lay there and said, "She better damn well be worth it. You almost let that fuckin' thing kill me—asshole!"

"Sorry, man," he said sincerely. "But she's definitely worth it. And dude? I think she's checking you out."

Petersen sat up and looked toward the aerobics area when he saw her. She was indeed standing there and yes, she was looking at him. As soon as he made eye contact with her, she looked away, turned around and headed outside.

"What did you do, man?" Garrett said. "She was looking over here until you looked at her and she bolted. What the fuck?"

Petersen wasn't listening. He stood up and walked as quickly as he could toward the exit. He flung the doors open and saw her getting into a shiny new BMW. As she closed the door, he ran toward the car. Just as she was starting the engine, he tapped on the window. She didn't look up nor did she put the car in gear. She just sat there. 

He tapped again and said, "Lauren?"

After what seemed like a very long wait, she turned the car off and he heard the sound of the power windows. "I was hoping you hadn't seen me," she said without looking at him.

He saw she was still wearing the same huge, gold wedding band with the same monster-sized diamond ring from the last time he'd seen her. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you. You caught me so off guard I didn't really even think about it, and I wanted to say hello."

She finally looked over at him and said, "Hello, Cal. I don't mean to be rude, but I can't do this again."

"I understand," he told her. "I have no right to think you'd have any interest in even talking to me let alone getting together, I just..."

"Getting together? Are you kidding? After the way you left me...what was it? Four years ago?"

"A little more but, yes, it was about four years ago," he said. "And I'm truly sorry. I was 18 and didn't know how to deal with the situation."

"The situation? Is that what you call it? The situation?"

He hung his head not knowing what else to say. "I had to get out of this town. The military was my escape. I was too young and too inexperienced to deal with it...with...us. You were married and I was..."

"You broke my heart, Cal. You hurt me. You ruined my life." She was no longer looking at him. She was just staring through the windshield. Her words weren't accusatory. She was just recounting what she saw as reality. 

"Are you and Reed still married?" he asked her.

"Married? I guess you could call it that," she said dryly. "I suspected he was having an affair before we met and about a year after you left town he admitted it. I would have divorced him but I was as guilty as he was even though we were only together...like that...the one time. So I stayed. I've also stayed as busy as possible, first to forget you, and then to stop hating you. And now you're back and standing here as though nothing ever happened."

"Lauren, I swear I never meant to hurt you. I just assumed you didn't want to see me again after that because you never called and..."

"I never called? Seriously? All you had to do was stop back by the house. Even if Reed was home he'd have thought you were just looking for more work. He loved what you did with the fence, by the way. But you never did. You could have called, too. But that didn't happen, either. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but in my world, the man calls. The man finds a way to make his feelings known. I waited for weeks to hear from you and then a friend of Karen, your former girlfriend, told me you'd enlisted and left town. I was devastated."

"I really don't know what else to say. I'm not the most articulate guy and I obviously blew it really bad with you. I guess I can only ask you to forgive me and hope that..."

"Forgive you? I admit I wasn't all that happy before you came along, but I had the Church and a husband and...a life. And then you came in and tore it all apart then just walked away like it meant nothing to you. I still go to church, but it's not the same now. I want to get back what I used to get from it, but I just don't really believe in it any more. So yes, I still live with my husband and I still love him, but I'm not in love with him. The last time I had...you know...was with a man...was four years ago. And you want me to forgive you? It's going to take more than saying you're sorry for that to happen."

Lauren released her grip on the steering wheel and Petersen could tell she was fighting off tears. Instinctively, he reached for her hand. She pulled away and said coldly, "Don't touch me. Don't you dare do that."

He retracted his hand and said, "This was a mistake." He didn't say it angrily or sarcastically. It was just an acknowledgement of the truth. "Again, I'm so very sorry."

She turned the car back on and reached for the switch to roll the window up. Petersen put his hands on it and said, "Lauren? I want you know that it...that...you...meant something to me. It wasn't a game to me and I meant everything I said."

He could see tears streaming down her face. He took his hands off the window as he felt the car slip into reverse. "You're even more beautiful than I remember, Lauren. I hope you know that." As the car began moving backward he said, "I really did care about you and I don't regret what happened." She put it into drive and he said just before she drove off, "But if I could go back and do it over, I'd never have walked away like that. I'd have come back and at least tried to make you fall in love with me. Like I had with you."

Her face was screwed up tightly as she turned around and told him, "Loved me? You never loved me. I was just...another piece of ass to you." She rolled up the window and sped off leaving Petersen standing there in the parking lot of the local gym.

"Dude! What the fuck? Did you talk to her?" Garrett had just come outside to see what was taking his friend so long.

"Yeah, I just told her my friend thought she was really hot."

"No way!" he said. Not sure whether or not to believe him he asked, "Are you serious? You told her I think she's hot?"

"Yeah. I told her."

"What'd she say?"

He turned to look at his best friend and said, "She told me to tell you she already has a boy and she doesn't need another one."

Benson looked at him to see if he being serious before Petersen slapped him on the arm and said, "Ha! Gotcha! You actually bought that didn't you, you naive bastard!"

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. You can walk home, dickweed!" he told him.

"Come on. Let's get outta here. I've had enough of this place for one day," Petersen told him.

The following Friday, Petersen was driving home from the community college he was attending on the GI Bill when the phone rang. It was Benson again. He swiped 'accept call' and said, "What's up, crazy one?"

"Dude! You're never gonna guess what happened!" Garrett said excitedly.

"What? Did you finally lose your virginity?" he said with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Fuck you, asswipe!" Benson hissed. "No, the hot MILF chick asked about you. You know, the new Zumba instructor."

Petersen didn't answer. "Dude? Are you listening to me? She asked me if I knew how to get ahold of you."

After a few more seconds of silence, Petersen said, "What did you tell her?"

"What do you think I told her? I gave her your phone number. I even punched it into her iPhone, man. I told you she was totally checking you out. So you gonna tap that?" he said with his typical adolescent excitement. He was also 23 years old, just like Petersen, but Garrett Benson still talked and acted like he was a senior in high school. Even so, he was a loyal friend and after four years in the Marine Corps, Petersen valued loyalty above nearly all else.

Several more seconds ticked off before Benson said, "Dude? Did you hear me? Are you pissed off or something? I thought it would be cool if I gave her..."

"It's fine, G. No worries, okay? I can't imagine she's really into me like that. She probably wants to get me to take her class or something."

"Uh-huh. Right. And she wants to do me. Listen, this is your chance, man. She's really into you. You gotta go for it." He paused and then said, "And then you gotta tell me all about it because you know I live vicariously through you."

Petersen laughed when he heard his friend, who barely graduated from high school, use a ten-dollar word. "Yeah, sure. I'll give you the play-by-play after we spend a wild weekend in Las Vegas." Benson laughed and encouraged him to pursue her. Petersen told him, "Did you see that big old diamond ring on her left hand, Garrett? She's married. That and the car she's driving says money and a woman with that kind of money isn't interested in some guy who just started college over fours years later than he should have."

"Whatever, dude. I'm just tellin' you she's got your number. So if she calls, you know..."

"Okay, thanks. And it's cool. I'm glad you told me. Hey, we gettin' together this weekend?"

"Hells, yeah!" he said. Benson was relieved. He thought his best friend was pissed off at him for giving her his number, but he still wanted to hang out which told everything was fine. Maybe he'd get some second-hand sex after all!

Two weeks passed in which Petersen carefully timed his workouts so that she wouldn't be there when he was. He also started using the gym on campus three days a week to ensure they'd never cross paths. But the following week he found himself recounting the "conversation" he'd had with Lauren in the parking lot. "The man finds a way to make his feelings known." He couldn't get those words out of his mind and he definitely couldn't get her out, either. 

It was about two in the afternoon and he didn't have to be to work at Safeway where he stocked shelves at night until five. He debated with himself for a couple of minutes then decided to turn off onto the road he hadn't been on since his senior year. Two miles along it, he saw the huge home come into view. The exterior color had changed, but otherwise it looked almost identical to the way he remembered it. 

Petersen noticed his hands felt clammy as he pulled into the driveway. He'd done a tour in Iraq, but he was what Marines called an 'air-winger' so the only danger he'd faced was from the occasional, sporadic mortar attacks at Al-Asad air base. Then again, that was more than most people would ever experience, and he was just fine with that. No need to embellish the truth when people asked. Right now, he wasn't afraid per se, but he was most definitely nervous as he walked up to the very large door and rang the bell of the Bagwell's residence.

He heard the sound of a dog barking followed by a man's voice saying, "Hush. Good girl, Daisy. Sit and stay," before the door opened.

When it did, Petersen noticed the golden retriever sitting obediently next to her owner/master, Reed Bagwell. "Can I help you?" he said politely.

"Mr. Bagwell? It's me. Cal Petersen. I did your fence posts for you a few years back."

"Oh, right! Yes, absolutely. Please come in. Lauren told me you joined the Marines. It's good to see you back safe and sound. How are things and what brings you our way?"

He showed him into their large living room and offered him a seat before asking if he could get him anything. Mormons didn't drink coffee or even iced tea and he didn't want water so he said, "No thank you, sir. I'm fine."

Reed Bagwell sat across from him and said, "Well, you certainly look like you've been taking care of yourself. You were a weight lifter as I recall. Looks like you've kept up with it."

"Yes sir, I have," Petersen told him. "It's sort of become second nature to me, you know." 

"No need to call me 'sir', Cal. I'm a pilot, but not a Marine Corps officer. Please call me Reed, okay?"

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that," he said ignoring the offer.

"Lauren's not here right now. She's out taking care of some things with the Relief Society at Church. I know she'll be disappointed she didn't get a chance to say hello. Speaking of church, have you ever gone back to an LDS church since you left home? I know you were dating Karen Mooreland back in high school. She's married to a returned missionary now, by the way, and they have a little boy named Kyle and she's expecting with another one. A girl I think she said."

"No, I haven't gone back. I always admired the Mormon Church for its stand on hard work and the way it takes care of others. I'm just not much of a religious person," he told him. He didn't say anything about the things that he found ridiculous like their temple endowment ceremony which was stolen from the Masons or their belief that God was once a man who now lived on some star or planet called Kolob where he and his celestial goddess-wives (plural) created worlds without end with our earth being just one of many. He knew Reed also hoped he too, would one day be a God having sex with Lauren for eternity. Petersen hoped the God Bagwell believed in forgave men for having affairs with their flight attendants, but didn't mention that, either.

"I just stopped by to say hi and to thank you for the job you offered me back then. I really needed the work and the money."

"It was my pleasure, Cal. You did a bang-up job on it, by the way. Say, I have quite a few other things that need taken care of around here and I'm either away flying or too tired to take care of them when I'm home. Are you interested in doing some more work for us? I'd pay you much better this time with you being on your own now and all now."

Petersen knew he should decline the offer, but he wouldn't be able to come back here a second time without arousing suspicion should Reed be home so he cheerfully said, "I'd be glad to! Just let me know what you need done."

The older man took him outside and showed him several minor things that needed taken care of along with a more extensive project. "So what do you think, Cal? Any of these things you might like to do?"

"For now, I'll sign up for all but the long-term project if that's okay."

"You bet it is!" Bagwell told him enthusiastically. "Lauren will be thrilled to see you and you have back here helping us out."

Petersen just smiled and nodded. He was thinking about the kind of "bang-up" job he'd done around here before and although he felt pretty sure there wouldn't be a repeat performance, he had to at least make his feelings known to her.

As the two men were saying goodbye, the black BMW drove up, parked, and Lauren, who had no idea who was there, got out and said, "Oh hi, Reed," to her husband.

She grabbed a couple of bags full of clothes she hadn't been able to sell at the church raffle and headed toward Petersen's car. "So who do we have visiting?" she asked as Petersen got back out of his car and stood up to say hello.




Bagging Lauren - Again



"Hi, Mrs. Bagwell. You probably don't remember me, but I did your fence posts a few years back."

Her bright, beautiful smile turned to stone as soon as she saw him. "Yes, of course. It's nice to see you again," she said coldly. She handed the bags to her husband and said, "Would you be a dear and take these inside for me?" The soft, pasty-looking, balding man smiled and told her he'd love to as he waved goodbye to Petersen and told him he was looking forward to seeing him the next day.

As he went inside Lauren said, "What in God's name are you doing here? I thought I made it very clear I didn't want to see you again. Ever!"

Petersen sat back down in his car and said, "No, you told me I broke your heart. You told me I hurt you." She started to speak but he just talked over her. "And...you told me that a man always find a way to make his feelings known."

He sat back down in the car and started the engine. He very politely asked her if she could step aside so he could close the door. She moved over just enough to let him shut it then said, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but I hope you don't think you can just show up here and make everything all right. I am still angry as hell at you and I'm not going to forgive you just because you want to feel better about what you did to me."

He put the car in reverse then looked at her through the open window and said, "I can't control how you react or how you feel, Lauren. I can only control my end of things. But I'm finding a way to make my feelings known, and regardless of how you take what I'm about to tell you, they are my feelings. When you asked Garrett for my number, I knew you still had feelings for me, too. Even though it took me a couple of weeks to figure out why you didn't call, I finally understood you were showing me you still care but waiting for me to make the first move. So here I am making it."

She crossed her arms and gave him an icy stare as he began backing out. This time, it was his turn to put the car in gear and drive off. But before he did he said, "What we did right here in this house was very real and very important to me. I've never forgotten it...or you. And as soon as I saw you, those feelings came rushing back to me and they are just as real today as what we had back then. I haven't been able to think about anyone or anything else since I saw you at the gym. You said you once loved me." The car began rolling as he said, "Well, I loved you, too, Lauren. And that hasn't changed."

He watched in the rearview mirror as her arms fell. He could see her jaw was slightly agape and the hardened expression on her face had softened. As he drove away he thought her look was more puzzled than angry.

When he arrived early Saturday morning, Reed met him at the front door. He was in uniform and getting to leave. "I'm glad you got here a few minutes early. I got a call to take a four-day trip to Tokyo yesterday after you left. The materials are in the barn along with the tools. If you need anything else, just ask Lauren. She'll write you a check when you're finished. I hate to run out on you like this, but I'm gonna be late if I don't leave right now."

"No problem, sir," Petersen told him. "I'll take care of everything. Have a safe trip."

He didn't see Lauren and didn't look. He headed out to the barn and got started. Four hours later, he walked back up to the house and saw an envelope tacked to the door. He looked around and noticed the BMW wasn't there. He opened the flap and saw a check and what looked like a handwritten note.

The check was made out for twice the amount he'd agreed to and Petersen didn't take charity so it was a given he'd return it. Then he wondered if that was perhaps her way of trying to buying him off; pay him a few extra bucks so he wouldn't come back again.

He opened the note and sat down on the steps to read it. 

"Dear Cal,

I wanted to share some personal thoughts with you, but I can't allow myself to sit down with you again—alone. I've worked very hard to try and forgive myself for what I did. Yes, what I did. When we spoke, I made it sound like you did something to me I had no control over. The truth is, I wanted that as much as you did, and I take responsibility for my part.

I'm also sorry for being so rude at the gym. You can imagine what a shock it was to see you out of the blue like that for the first time in four years. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Anger, frustration, hurt, and many other things. I'd convinced myself I really was over you and as long as I never had to see you again, I could let myself believe that. And then...there you were. Among the feelings which washed over me was the way you looked when I saw you and the way you'd felt when we...you know. You're even more handsome now than you were then. Just seeing your body in the gym was both wonderful and awful. You see, the Church has been everything for me and I can't lose that, too, along with my marriage which isn't over—at least not on paper. But I'm well, very comfortable with Reed, the Church, and my life, in spite of his affair...and mine.

You know, it's crazy, but I still can't wear a sweater without thinking about how much you love them. I can't look at a handsome young guy at the gym without thinking about you. But I also know I can't have you because...because...well, there are just many reasons why, not the least of which is my age and the way I look and the way I feel about myself now. For what it's worth, you made me feel so young and so...alive and now here you are—still so young and so...handsome...and I am, well...not. So the Church and my marriage aside, there's just nothing here for you now, okay? Please try to understand.

So if you really do care about me; if you really do...love me...then please, I'm begging you, don't ask to see me again. Please live your life and be happy and allow me to live mine. Please? I wish you nothing but happiness and success, but I cannot ever see you again. If my happiness is important to you, then please honor my request.

Fondly,

Lauren"

He folded the note and put it in his pocket. He placed the check back under the envelope then went to his car and grabbed a pen. He tore a piece of paper from a spiral notebook and scribbled a quick note of his own:

"Dear Lauren,

This is very generous, but I can't accept it. Reed and I agreed on a price, and I can't take one dollar more. I'm not a religious person, but I do have moral values, and even though they're different than yours, they are very important to me. 

As to values, you may think what we did way back then is immoral. I can't change how you feel, but I don't feel that way—at all. I saw it as something beautiful. Two people with similar needs sharing their love. That's not immoral in my book.

Because I do care about you, I'll honor your request. I won't ask to see you again. But I can't leave without telling you that I still have feelings for you. Lauren, I very much want to be with you regardless of you being married. And no matter what you may say, I see you as the most beautiful woman on earth. Hell, even Garrett agrees with me on that and he's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. (smiley face) 

In case you change your mind, I have an apartment on South 7th street. The number is 407 and I'm in apartment A. I'm not asking to see you, I'm just giving you the option of seeing me.

So...I've made the first step, Lauren. I've told you how I feel. I don't know whether you'll decide to see me again, and I won't ask you to. That's up to you. Just know I'll be very happy to hear your knock on my door in the near future. Honey, you are truly beautiful. Thank you for the honest, kind words in your note. Please take good care.

With the deepest of feelings,

Cal"

Petersen didn't spend a lot of time at his studio apartment in Auburn, Washington, but for the next two weeks, whenever he was there, he found himself looking out the window every few minutes hoping to see a sleek, black sedan pull up. By the end of the third week, he stopped looking.

This had been a pretty brutal week with finals in calculus, physics, and engineering. To break up the stress, he made sure to get in a very hard workout each day. By Friday evening, he was too beat to join Garrett for a beer at their favorite watering hole. Instead, he turned on some jazz and cracked a cold beer from his refrigerator and plopped down on the oversized chair in his living room. Living room. That was a laugh. There was one large room which served as bedroom, living room, dining room, and kitchen. The bathroom was separate, thank God.

On the way home, he'd been listening to Metallica and he still had Whiskey in the Jar stuck in his head as the pleasant sounds of Coltrane filled the room. Having lived in the barracks most of his four years, he utterly despised neighbors who cranked up their music as though they lived in a detached home. He played it loudly enough to enjoy but not so loud that the neighbors had to hear it.

The Indian summer was long gone and the dark, gray days of Fall were here to stay until next May or even June. It was dark and outside and rain started falling shortly after he got inside. 

Having a beer wasn't unusual. Having a second one was. But tonight he decided to have one more then listen to the blues until he got tired enough to go to sleep. 

At some point, he nodded off and it took him a minute to make sense of the noise. The rain was beating down on the roof but there was something else he was missing. Then it happened again. 

He sat his half-empty beer down and jumped up to answer the door. He opened it just a crack and there she was hugging the door trying to stay out of the rain. The wind was blowing like hell, too, and he didn't think twice before reaching out and grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.

"Come in and get out of the rain," he told her as she stepped inside. Her hair had been blown around, but he was otherwise unable to avoid staring. Under her expensive winter white coat, Lauren was wearing a beautiful knit dress with the kind of ribbing he'd told her made him crazy. It fell to about four inches above the knee which no one familiar with Mormonism could miss. They believe the body is sacred from the neck to the knee and wear special garments covering that area. Petersen jokingly referred to them as 'magic jammies.' Those garments fell to the top of the knee and no Mormon woman would therefore wear anything shorter. Taking them off was forbidden except for bathing, medical appointments, and certain other narrowly-defined exceptions. She was also wearing a pair of very expensive-looking heels and her makeup and nails were stunning. She was carrying a purse which matched her shoes and there was an envelope sticking out of it. A little unusual for a cold, rainy Friday evening to say the least.

"I wasn't sure if this was the right place. It's so dark outside," she said as she tried to smooth her windblown hair.

"Come in and sit down," he told her.

"Oh, no, that's okay, thank you. I just stopped by to bring you this." She removed the envelope and handed to him. "That should be the amount you and Reed agreed on."

He peeked inside and saw that it was indeed the correct amount and said, "Well, thank you for bringing this by but isn't this a little bit out of your way on a night like this?" It was actually about 15 miles out her way but he wasn't going to press the point.

"Oh, no. I just happened to out this way and wanted to drop it off while I was here. So...I did and now I guess I should probably get going."

She hadn't looked at him until just then and when he did he said to her, "You look wonderful, Lauren. I'm glad you stopped by."

She looked at him while he spoke then lowered her eyes and told him, "Oh, sure. It was no problem. I was in the area anyway and..."

"Dressed like that?" he said interrupting but not in a mean way.

"Like what?" she said pretending to be unaware of what she was wearing or why.

"I may be a man," Petersen said, "but I'm not completely clueless. The dress is you're wearing is incredibly beautiful and very flattering, but's it much too short for church standards. So you couldn't have been at a church function and you also wouldn't visit friends in something that...revealing. But then, you do know someone who finds that kind of thing extremely attractive, and you also know he finds you even more so."

"I'm not really sure why you're bringing any of this up. It's just a dress and I just happened to be out so..."

Petersen moved closer and said, "Lauren. We both know why you're here. It may be that you lost your nerve once you got inside, but I can assure you I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do so you don't need to be worried or feel afraid."

"I'm not afraid, Cal. It's just that I really need to get home because..."

"Because you forgot to feed Daisy? I'm sure Reed's not home or you wouldn't be wearing this gorgeous, much-too-short dress so unless Daisy is on the verge of starving, I'm not sure I believe you."

He reached out for her hand and when he took it she didn't respond but she also didn't pull away. "Lauren? We need to talk. You know it and I know it. And as much as it pains me to say it, you're not being truthful with me and we both know that, too. You came here specifically to see me and while you did owe me this money, no one would drive this far out of there way in weather like this just to drop it off. In fact, you could have mailed it to me three weeks ago. So please, let me take your coat so you can sit down. Please?"

She looked up at him again then sat her purse on the cheap coffee table near the sofa. Her coat was unbuttoned and as she went to remove him, Petersen said, "Here, let me get that for you." He grabbed the coat at the top and watched her slide out of it. Her figure was unbelievable. She was almost 45 now but her waist was still tight and her ass was perfect. As she turned back around he remembered her sensational size-C boobs which filled out the knit material in a way that made him stir.

He put the coat on the back of one of the two chairs near his tiny table and said, "You look absolutely amazing."

Lauren smiled and blinked twice before saying, "Oh, thank you, but I'm very aware of how I look now. You know how old I am now and I know I don't look anything like you say I do, but it means a lot to hear you say it."

"Please come sit down. We clearly have a lot of negative programming to get out of your pretty little head," he told her as he offered the seat where he'd been sitting.

Lauren laughed for the first time at his comment. Not a loud laugh but it was genuine. "I'd apologize for the living conditions but then, you know I'm not an airline captain so..."

"No, it's just fine. It reminds me of my first place."

"Ah, so you were poor once upon a time," he said teasing her.

"No! I didn't mean it like that. It has nothing to do with money. I just meant it reminds of when things were much simpler and a time when I was...happy. That's all."

"Before I sit down, can I offer you something to drink?" he asked her.

"Um, sure. That might be nice. Thank you."

He took the seven steps needed to get to the refrigerator and said, "Uh, Houston? We have a problem. All I have are sweetened ice tea and...beer. Both no-no's for you, I'm afraid."

"Well, I guess I could have a glass of iced tea—if you promise not to tell anyone."

Petersen laughed at the thought of telling someone an adult woman had had a glass of tea at his apartment. It was as hilarious to him as it was serious to her. He poured her a glass in one of his red plastic cups and told her, "I can assure you your secret is safe with me."

She saw the half-empty beer bottle and said, "If you were drinking that before I came, please don't not drink it because I'm here, okay?"

"It's kinda warm now anyway and warm beer is pretty disgusting. I think I'll pour this one out and open another." He saw her take a sip of the cold drink as he walked 'all the way' back to the fridge.

"Is the tea okay?" he asked.

"Yes, it's actually very good. I've always wanted to try it but well, you know, coffee and tea are, as you said, big no-no's." 

He opened his beer and dropped the bottle cap in the trash. As he turned around Lauren said, "Cal? Would it be okay if...well, you know...if I had a beer, too?"

He stopped, looked at her, and raised an eyebrow in a very exaggerated fashion. "I'm sorry. Did I just hear you ask me for a...beer?"

"Stop! Don't be mean, okay? This is really hard for me, you know. Being here, seeing you again, having these...feelings again."

He opened a beer for her and seconds later handed it to her. "Feelings? For me? I believe we do need to talk."

She took the beer and said, "Do I just drink it out of the bottle?"

Petersen smiled but didn't laugh. After all, she'd never drank a beer in her entire life. "That's up to you. Most people do but you're definitely not most people," he told her as he looked her over in a way that wasn't crude or insulting. "I can get you a glass if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. I think as long as I'm living on the edge here, I may as well live large, right?"

Petersen couldn't help but laugh at the thought of having a beer as 'living on the edge.'

"What? What's so funny about that?" she said with mostly feigned indignation. "This is a big deal for me."

"I'm sorry," he told her. "It's just that you're not only beautiful, you're downright cute." She smiled when he said that. "Did you know that? That you're cute as a button?"

He wasn't sure, but it seemed to him she blushed just slightly. He held out his beer and said, "To feelings?"

She hesitated then said, "Maybe to 'talking about feelings'?"

Petersen nodded and they touched the longnecks of the two Budweiser bottles as she took her first-ever swig of beer. Almost as soon as she swallowed the first gulp, she let out a tiny belch. "Oh, my goodness! That's so embarrassing! Does that always happen?" she asked out genuine ignorance.

"Only to rookies," he said as he smiled at her.

She took another smaller sip and made a face. "That tastes positively awful!" she told him. "How do you drink this stuff?"

"It's an acquired taste. You know, kind of like me."

Lauren sat her bottle down and sighed. "Like you. You are worse for me than beer, yet here I am alone with you in your apartment. I obviously lied about being in the neighborhood," she said. "How many sins is that already tonight?" she said only partially joking.

"Well, there's the short dress," he began. Petersen looked down in a way that let her know he was admiring her legs and said, "But because you look so hot in it I won't count that as a sin." Lauren put her hand over her mouth as she laughed—really laughed—for the first time. "Then we have the misdemeanor offense of the iced tea which was followed by the felony offense of...wait for it...drinking a beer!" He made the noise of a TV detective show that went: Dum-dum-dum-dum...DUM!

Lauren laughed again and said, "I haven't laughed like that since...in...four years." He smile faded and was replaced by a look of melancholy.

"Hey, we'll have none of that sadness around here. Drink up, young lady and then we talk!" he said as though he were captain of pirate ship or something. When Lauren laughed again he said, "Aye, matey, now that's the kind of smile we hope to see more of on me ship!"

"I've missed you, Cal," she told him as she took another drink. "Oooh! I feel something around my lips." She reached up to touch the lower lip and said, "Oooh, it feels kind of tingly or something. Is that normal?"

"Only for virgins," he said.

"Cal!" she said in mock protest. "That is so mean!"

"Well, you are a virgin. A beer virgin. Or at least you were before I corrupted you."




Bagging Lauren - Again



"You are a bad influence on me," she told him. "So why is it I can't stop thinking about you? How is it you have this...power over me? I hope you know I hate you for that," she said as took another, longer drink.

"Is there anything else you hate me for?" he asked her. "I mean, we should probably clear the air before we go any further. What else have I done to make you hate me?"

"I was born and raised in the Mormon Church. It's all I've ever known. And like you, I was a late bloomer. I had braces on my teeth all through high school, and I only had one date. I went to Brigham Young University the next year and met Reed my first semester. He was just back from his mission in Uruguay and he asked me out. One date become two, two became three, and three turned into a proposal. He can't have children, but we always clung to the belief we would have 'children without number' in the celestial kingdom. My life was simple. I never wanted for anything materially speaking and I never even looked at another man...before you. You made me question everything I ever believed or believed in. You turned my whole world upside down. I lusted for you, I committed adultery with you, and even though you left me, I can't stop thinking about you." 

Lauren sat up straight and looked directly at him. "Before you came into my life, I didn't realize I'd never really been alive. I just...existed. The days were a blur of trying to fill the time by staying busy. Reed was gone a lot establishing himself in his career; gone a lot more than he needed to be. I suspected something around the time you and I met, but I couldn't believe an elder in the church—my husband—could ever be unfaithful. How could I not be enough for him? And then I met you. When I started to have feelings for you...I understood. After we talked...I felt alive for the first time in my life. After we made love, I had something to live for. I had something and someone to live for. I didn't care that I was 40-year old woman acting like she was 19 and single. I was...in love. For the first time, I had hope. And then...it was gone. I was so angry at you. I was so hurt. It was back to my dull, boring life in a beautiful home with a man I barely knew anymore and the man I loved had left me. I felt hollow. So I went back to doing what I'd always done. I stayed busy and found things to fill my days. I gave up on ever feeling happy again. So that's what you gave me...and took from me."

Petersen listened carefully then said, "So what is it you most want, Lauren? And what is it you're most afraid of?"

She took another drink of her beer and said, "I want to feel alive again. I want to care about something. I want to feel...loved. So i guess the thing I'm most afraid of is never having any of that again and dying never having felt what I felt for those few days four years ago."

"Do you think I'm really the answer or is it possible Reed is the problem and you just need to get away from him? What would happen if you divorced him, stayed in your church, and found another man who's...well, closer to your age? Is that something you've considered?"

"I have," she said rather forlornly. "But where the Church is concerned, I just go through the motions now. It's all for show. I mean, I don't know how else to act or live. It's been the central theme of my life. So while I might find another man who makes me feel more alive, I'm not sure I want him to be LDS. You may think that's no big deal, but for me, it's absolutely huge."

"I hope you don't mind me being direct, but I have to ask. I'll ask gently, but I do have to ask. Why are you here, Lauren? Do you honestly see us getting married and living happily ever after? Is that a part of your dream—your dream of being happy?"

"I have no illusions that you would ever marry me, Cal. I'm almost 45 and I know I couldn't hold your attention for very long let alone the rest of my life. But you are the first and last person who made me feel the way I want to feel and...I want that feeling back more than I want anything else." A tear fell from her eye as she looked at him. She was now very much the little child looking for an answer. An answer to make her feel better; to make her feel the way she wanted to feel.

Petersen set down his bottle and stood up. He stepped around the tiny table between them and pointed to the spot next to her on the oversized chair. "May I?" he asked.

As Lauren looked up, another tear fell. "Sure," she said.

"First let me say there's nothing more I want than to kiss you right now. But because I do live by a moral code—my moral—code, I have to completely honest with you, Lauren. You're right about marriage. It has nothing to do with you or your age and everything to do with me. Maybe it comes from being the most hideous-looking kid in school for so many years then finally having a lot of opportunity with women that makes me feel this way. Perhaps that created a trust issue for me with women. Maybe it's just my age. In another ten years, who knows? Maybe I'll want to get married. Perhaps it's me. But I'm definitely not the marrying kind—at least not now. And I would never say I'd marry you or anyone else, for that matter, to have the chance to sleep with you, no matter how wonderful you are. And you are wonderful." As he said that, he took her small hand in his and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I guess in my heart of hearts I wanted to hear you say you did want to marry me. That you love me so much nothing could stand in our way. Because...I'd leave my husband tomorrow if you did...love me that much. And I'd live anywhere with you if you did. But deep down, I knew that wasn't a possibility."

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "What you have to do is decide what's most important to you, Lauren. Is it a safe, comfortable, boring marriage where you exist but never feel alive? Is it always having money—a lot of money—to have new clothes, new cars, and the finest things in life? Is it having the illusion of some ultimate safety net in the form of your religious beliefs when no such safety net exists?"

"You can't prove the Church isn't true, Cal," she said defensively.

"And I would never try. I can't prove God doesn't exist, either, and I don't spend time trying to do so. The bottom line for me is there is absolutely no evidence whatsoever that any god exists. There are only stories and assertions that one does. If he wants to talk to me personally, I'm ready to listen and obey. But I'm not listening to two 19-year olds wearing white shirts and black ties tell me stories they memorized verbatim. I'm not open to having some pastor, priest, or rabbi tell me what they believe some ancient text means, either. And while we're on this subject, if you're honest with yourself, you know your prayers don't get answered. You can try and deceive yourself and claim they do, but you know they don't. If they did, you wouldn't be so miserable and you definitely wouldn't be here with me. So you have to choose. Either pick relative safety and comfort without feeling, or admit there's no real love there and no eternal safety net and admit we're all free falling and enjoy the ride the best you can. But you can't have both, Lauren."

Lauren sighed then said, "Once again, you make me feel like a little girl listening to her wiser, older teacher. It's funny, but I've had four years to think this through and all I've done is think—in a circle. I've never made a decision. I just keep imagining what I want, but I've been unwilling to go after it. It's just so scary, you know? Giving up my husband, my marriage, my faith. In essence—my life. And I'm trading it in for something largely unknown. It almost feels like I won a solo trip to Europe on Let's Make a Deal, but now I have to decide whether to trade it for what's behind the curtain where Carol Merrill is standing. Will it be something better or a 'zonk'. The thought of getting zonked scares me, Cal. It scares the hell out of me." She laughed at her use of 'foul' language. 

He reached around with his other arm and brushed back her pretty hair. "I'm not going to pressure you, Lauren. I'm here with you right now and if you choose me, I'll still be here for you. I just can't promise you a lifetime commitment. I can only promise I'll love you and care for you for the foreseeable future. You won't have the finer things in life, but you'll have me and my love. I know that may not be enough for you, but it's all I have to offer. If you want it, it's yours. What I'm offering is what's behind the curtain. Only you can assess whether or not it beats the trip to Europe or looks like a zonk."

"It feels like I really am free falling," she said as she snuggled up close. "I came here wearing this very inappropriate dress and I even took my temple garments off. I drank tea and beer and I'm lusting for you in the worst way imaginable. I'm wondering where it all might end."

"That's the beauty of an independent life, Lauren. You decide where it ends. Not some group of older, white males from Salt Lake City who claim to talk to God. You make those choices. Let's say you decided to leave your husband and cut ties with the Mormon Church. Would you run out and kill someone?"

"Of course not. That's absurd," she told him.

"Would you steal from other people?"

"No."

"Would you start lying and cheating and hurt others?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer. You would still be a decent, moral person. As to these other things you're so concerned about, I can assure you there's nothing wrong with doing something that hurts no one else. Drinking a beer harms no one. Same with coffee and tea. In fact, there's research to show that two cups of coffee a day can help ward off diseases like Parkinson's. So trust me. You will not fall off the end of the moral earth. You'll still be you with the same moral standards you've always had, but with the understanding that doing what harms no one else isn't immoral or wrong. It's actually very liberating."

"You make everything seem so simple and so clear," she said wistfully. She looked up at him and said, "So, oh great wise one, what should I do?"

"Not even the Great and Powerful Oracle of Auburn can answer that, my child," he teased. She hit him playfully before he continued. "As I see it, you have three choices. One, you go back home, put on your garments, pray for forgiveness, and live the rest of your life with Reed. You forget about me and make the best of what you've had for all these many years. Two, you tell him you're leaving, cut ties with the Church, and move in with me."

Lauren moaned softly and ran her hand up and down his arm. "And my third choice?" she asked.

"You stay here with me tonight, make love with me, and then go back home and take some time to decide."

"Cal, I want to be with you so bad I can't stand it. I want you so bad it hurts. But you and I both agreed you'll never marry me so I see no..."

He sat up and waited for her to look up at him. "Another question for you. Why does your decision depend on being married—to me or anyone else? Why can't you follow your heart and move in with me and give yourself some time to figure what more you might want out of life? Why is being married so important?"

"Because that's so...scary to me. Leaving is one thing, living...in sin...is quite another," she told him.

"Well, there you go. You have yet another choice. You can either live in fear or you can live freely. I don't see you ever being happy in your current life, Lauren. Maybe I'm wrong, but you've been trying for four years now and you clearly aren't happy. So how is going back to what doesn't make you happy going to suddenly make you happy? Isn't that the definition of insanity? By the way, I have no interest in your money. I say that because you'd get half of everything you two have and that will be your money. All of it. I don't want one dime. But remember, you won't be destitute, and you'll have someone who loves you more than anything for as long as you want him."

Lauren sighed loudly again. "How can a woman my age fall for someone as young as you are? And can she hope that that guy who is so handsome will want her for any real length of time? What's wrong with her? With...me?"

"There you go again. The word 'wrong' just like the word 'sin', has religious implications. We love who we love, Lauren. The other person may be black, white, Latino, or Asian. They might be male or female. Tall or short. Fit or fat. But we can't not love someone we love. I love you, too, by the way, and your age makes no difference at all to me. None. Now if you got fat..."

She hit him again and said, "I just might get fat if I move in with you and start drinking beer all the time. Then what would you do?"

"Well, I'd either send you off to the gym more often or tell you to hit the road."

"Ugh! Did I tell you I hate you?" she said with feigned anger.

"Yes, but I also told you I'll never lie to you," he told her.

"Do you really love me, Cal?" she asked imploringly. Her eyes told him she desperately needed to know.

"My moral code is simple. I picked it up in the Marine Corps. Marines don't like, cheat, or steal or tolerate those who do. So when I tell you something, I mean it. I just told you I love you Lauren, so you do the math."

She stared into his eyes. Her need to know he was being honest was imperative. "I believe you," she finally said. She kept staring then said quietly, "And I love you, too. So now what do we do?"

"Again, you can either go home and wait to tell your husband you're leaving him them come...home...here...to me, or you can stay with me tonight and I'll go with you when you're ready to tell him."

"No, I have to do that alone—by myself. I appreciate you offering to go with me, but I can't put that on you or anyone else. No pun intended but it's my cross to bear." She looked at him the way she had that night four years ago. "But I don't want to go home tonight. I want to stay with you. I'm just so afraid. Can me make not feel afraid?"

"No, sweetheart. I can't. No one can do that but you. But I can hold you and I can love you. The rest is up to you." He put his arms around her and held her close.

Without looking up she said, "Will you make love to me the way you did before?"

Petersen didn't answer. He just lifted her chin and kissed her softly on the lips.

She was so hungry for him she started tearing at his clothes. "I've wanted you every day for four years. I can't wait another minute," she said as she ripped and pulled.

He naked within moments and she slid between his knees and took his already-hard cock her hands. "I've dreamed of this, too. Every day," she said as she opened her mouth to take him in. She pressed hard with her tongue as her mouth took him deep. After several repetitions she came up for air and said, "I remember to never take my eyes off of you, too. You are so beautiful to me." She sucked several more times then said, "And so is...your cock. I've missed this so much, sweetheart. God, I love you!"

She cupped his balls and took him in her warm mouth until he was ready to explode. He pulled her shoulders to let her know he was ready. She slid out of her panties and pulled her knit dress up over her soft, round ass and prepared to mount his cock. He ran his hand along her slit several times making she was ready for him. Her pussy was wetter than any he'd ever touched. "I haven't had sex in four years so be easy at first, okay, my love?" she purred.

She lowered herself onto to him. Slowly she took his entire length until he was completely inside her. She stayed that way and held him. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded but didn't speak. He felt a hot tear fall on his shoulder. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is...right. I am SO happy and I love you SO much!"

Lauren began to rock grinding her clit against his huge hard on. As she did, she whimpered and hissed and moaned. "Oh, my God...oh, that feels SO good!"

She raised up almost until he came out then slowly lowered herself back down. "I'm ready to be...fucked, honey," she told him. "I want you so...bad."

He lifted her and himself up and carried her the few steps to the bed and laid her on it never leaving her pussy. "Take me hard, please!" she begged him. 

Petersen kissed her and took her tongue in his mouth and tried to suck it out of hers as he slammed his enormous cock in and out of her soft, sweet pussy. He hammered her as hard as he possibly could until he made her scream. "Say it for me," he said. "I know you haven't forgotten what I like."

Four years ago he'd made her say things that were so awful she couldn't believe she'd done it. But she was out of her mind with passion then and she'd have done anything that 18-year old boy wanted. And she was totally in love with this handsome 24-year old man who was finally fucking her the way she'd dreamed of being fucked again. "I haven't forgotten. I've said those things a thousand times in my dreams."

"Then say it for me, baby," he demanded.

Lauren was very close to cumming. "Oh, my God!" she screamed. "Fuck me! Jesus fucking Christ—fuck my goddamn pussy!"

He felt like if he pounded her any harder both of them might bore a hole in the thin wall separating his apartment from the neighbor lady who was always so nice to him. "Yes, yes, fucking goddamn it! YES!!" she screamed.

Petersen withdrew and told Lauren to touch herself as he used his hand to cum all over her very expensive dress. "Yes! Fucking cum all over me. My God I love you so fucking much!" she screamed as her body shuddered and shook.

Both of them were gasping for breath as he collapsed on top of her. "You okay?" he asked again. This time he was concerned about guilt setting in quickly after the deed was done.

"Yes! I am so okay. I am SO happy. Everything is so clear now. I want...you. I want...this. I choose...you." 

They held one another for several minutes when Lauren got up to take off her cum-soaked dress. "That was a $300 dress," she said as she dropped it in the trash can. "And I don't give a shit!" she said proudly. 

"Oh, my! Aren't you just the little potty mouth tonight," he teased.

She jumped on top of him and said, "You know you love it."

After making love two more times that night, both of them fell asleep in one another's arms. The next morning, Lauren made breakfast for them before they fucked one last time before she needed to leave.

"Reed gets home late tonight so I may not call until tomorrow. Is that okay?" she asked as he held her.

"It's just fine. Do this on your timetable and call when you can. Hey, you look pretty hot in my sweats and your heels. This is a real look for you!"

"I don't care what I'm wearing as long as I'm with you," she told him as she kissed him. "That doesn't mean I won't be wearing pretty sweaters for you most of the time, of course." She smiled as she teased him back about his fetish for sexy knit tops.

"I love you, Lauren," he told him as he let her go.

"I love you too, Cal. I love you so very much." They kissed goodbye and he watched her drive away to end her old life so she could start her one.

Petersen didn't spend time worrying about things out of his control, but this was different. He checked his phone 3-4 times an hour looking for a text or missed call even though his ringer was on high. Finally, around midnight he got a text.

"It's over. Things went very well. I want to tell you everything in person. Can you come here tomorrow evening around 6pm? Oh, Reed is moving out so you won't run into him. I love you so much! L"

He wasn't sure what to think or feel as he drove back up the long driveway and parked next the BMW. Before he even made it to the door, Lauren flung the door open and ran outside to meet him. She literally jumped into his arms.




Bagging Lauren - Again



"Oh, honey! It's over. It's really over! I can be with you and the best part is Reed doesn't want the house! You can move in here with me immediately! Come inside and let me tell you everything!"

She was so excited he didn't want to say anything to take away her joy. "So tell me everything," he said as they went to the kitchen.

"Well, when he got home I told him we needed to talk. I started to tell him how I felt and he stopped me and said he'd never stopped seeing Trish, the flight attendant. He told me he was so sorry but that he was in love with her and wanted a divorce. He felt so guilty he said he didn't want the house—just his half of the money."

"Did he ask if there was someone else?" Petersen inquired.

"No, but I told him I'd met someone, too. He surprised by saying he was happy for me. He didn't ask who it was or anything at all. He packed a couple of bags and said he was going to a motel and then moving in with Trish. It's all so surreal. The big, fat, hairy deal I'd imagined was a non-event. Oh, and guess what I bought for the first time in my life?"

"I hope it isn't a vibrator," he said wryly.

"Not even your sarcasm can bother me tonight." She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of expensive champagne. "Ta-dah!" she exclaimed proudly. "I also picked up a set of champagne flutes." She set them on the counter then said, "Would you open the bottle, sweetheart? I'm afraid that's something with which I have no experience."

Petersen removed the safety wire then popped the cork. Lauren cheered then squealed with joy. "I am SO happy and I am in love with Cal Petersen!" She put her arms around him and kissed him deeply. "I love you so much. Thank you for believing in me, honey!"

They toasted to their new life and took a long sip. "Ooh! That's very bubbly. Gee, maybe that's why it's called...bubbly!" she said bubblingly. She set her glass down and said, "You haven't said much at all. Is everything okay."

"Yes, everything's fine, honey. I couldn't happier or happier for you. But there is one thing we need to discuss."

She sat on his lap at the kitchen island and said, "Anything. Anything at all. Did I tell you I love you and that I'm so happy?"

He smiled and kissed her and said, "You did, but I love hearing it. And I really I'm so happy for you."

"Then what it is? Talk to me, Cal."

"You remember when I said I don't want your money?"

"Of course, it was just yesterday."

"Then...we can't live here. In this house. In your house...his...house."

Lauren looked crestfallen. "I didn't even think of that. I just assumed..." Her face look like he'd just told her he was leaving her, too.

"Lauren, honey. Please understand. I didn't earn the money for this home. And it's the place where you and Reed lived your lives—together. So...I can't live here. I don't want anything to spoil your happiness. Lord knows you deserve it. But honesty can sometimes have a rough edge to it. But I do have to be honest with you." He paused and ran his hand along her cheek. "Because I love you so much."

She put her hand on his and did her best to smile. "It was selfish of me to just assume you'd..."

"Hey—stop. Please don't do that. We're a team now. I'm on your side and I'll always have your back. You don't need to apologize for anything. Especially for something you meant in our best interest. If I hurt you...if I was...too direct, I'm very sorry."

"Well, it did hurt but not in a bad way. It hurt that I didn't listen more carefully yesterday. You told me how you feel and then when everything went so well, I got so wrapped up in my own feelings, I forgot about yours. So I'm the one who's sorry..." She realized she was apologizing again and stopped. "I'm new at this, you know. This...new way of life. Can you be patient with me?" she asked.

He pulled her close and said, "I will always be patient with you, sweetheart. And I have thought about our living arrangements."

"Maybe a new bed for our apartment?" she asked hopefully. "I think a queen would fit in there pretty easily."

He stroked her hair and told her, "No. I can't have the woman I love living somewhere I'd worry about her safety. That place is okay for me, but I would never let you live there. I'm willing to let you pay a little more than half to get us into some place where I'll know you'll be safe. But I will pay you back every penny you pay over half."

Lauren couldn't wait any longer. She kissed the man she loved and began unbuttoning his shirt. Minutes later she was underneath him begging him to cum inside her.

__________

They stayed in her big house until the end of the month when his lease expired. They put the house up for sale and found a very nice apartment in a quiet part of town. When all was said and done, Lauren had just over half a million dollars in assets. Cal encouraged to work with a financial adviser to make her grow as they began their new life together. Having saved what was a lot of money for a junior enlisted Marine, Petersen still had a little over $20,000 after paying his share on the new apartment and now had a full year of college behind him.

They lived there until he he'd earned his masters in aerospace engineering and went to work for McDonnell Douglas. 

It was then that Lauren first noticed the lump in her breast and just a year later she lay dying in their bed in their new home. "Please don't feel bad," she said as she gasped for breath. "You taught me what it meant to live and to love. I was happy day I was with you. Now, all I want is for you to be happy, too. Mourn my loss if you must but promise me you'll love again."

As tears fell from his Petersen promised her he would. Before she closed her eyes for the last time he held her frail hand and told her how much he loved he and that he always would.



Bagging Lauren



In no time. Sure! Perspective was truly everything.

Chapter 2

I did the same thing for nine out of the next ten days. I missed one night of work to spend with Karen. She'd never admit it but she liked getting fucked as much as I like fucking her. And since she was now the only game in town, I felt like I was seeing white through my eyeballs before draining my load into the condom I wore inside her soaking wet pussy.

When I returned on to Lauren's Thursday evening, I had less than 20 posts left so I told her I'd be finished no later than Friday night. "So soon?" she said. I didn't bother trying to explain that "soon" had been many hours of sweating and busting my ass. I just turned to head toward the barn when I heard Lauren call out, "Cal?" I stopped and turned around. "Listen, I feel like I should at least make dinner for you after all the work you've done." She hesitated before quickly adding, "Of course, I'm going to pay you, too. I mean, that's a given. I just thought it would be nice to do something special to thank you for all this."

I hadn't given up hope I still might find a way into her bedroom but I'd quite literally been working from sun up to sun down seven days a week. I wasn't too busy to think about sex I was just too busy to try and work my bolt to get into her life. I noticed her husband had been home for a three-day stretch and that he'd just left again yesterday. Not once did he stop by to check on me or see how the work was progressing. I couldn't help but wonder if he was as careless with his marriage. The devious side of me hoped that was true. In the near term, I was reasonably sure he'd be gone this weekend but not being 100% sure I said to Lauren, "You know what? That sounds really nice. I'd like that." She smiled from ear to ear as I said, "I haven't really had a chance to get to know you or your husband so this would be a great opportunity to do that."

Lauren's smile faded completely for a moment then returned but less brightly. "Um, well, Reed is on a trip around the Orient so he won't be back until around Tuesday of next week. If being here alone with me is a concern we can..."

It took me a second for it to sink in but she was applying her Mormon values to our being alone together. I mean, why would a young guy like me worry about being alone with a beautiful woman? Her concern was an expression of what she'd been taught to think about as being a problem—a married woman being alone with a man who wasn't her husband. But then, why wouldn't she be concerned about that for herself rather than for me? Hmmm. I was beginning to feel hopeful and said, "No, no! That's not a concern at all. I'd love to have dinner with you. That's really very thoughtful. I was just thinking it might be a good chance to get to know him, as well. But work is work, right?"

The word "work" seemed to hit Lauren the wrong way. "Right," she said with what almost sounded like some bitterness. "Work. There's always....work. At least with Reed anyway." 

I decided not to touch that remark either and instead said cheerfully, "So just let me know what time and I'll be here, okay?"

"If you think you'll be done early enough we could do this on Friday. Otherwise, let's make it Saturday, okay?"

I did some mental calculations and said, "I should be done by around 8 o'clock tomorrow. Will that work?"

"That will be perfect, Cal! Do you like lasagna?"

"Do I like lasagna?" I said while laughing. "Is the Pope Catholic?" I started to roar at my own joke but noticed Lauren kind of winced.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't think about the religious aspect."

"No! I'm not Catholic, I'm Mormon, so no offense taken. I guess I just didn't expect that. It was actually kind of funny. I don't know why I didn't laugh. I love to laugh." She was quiet for a moment then said, "I don't do a whole lot of that anymore, though. Laughing, that is."

For the first time, I saw a hint of sadness in her eyes and I wanted nothing more than to be able to hold her in my arms but I knew that probably wouldn't go over well. Instead, I went to the shallow well of my still-underdeveloped sense of humor and said, "Don't worry! I'll keep you laughing." I paused for effect then threw in the punch line, "But enough about my looks." It worked!

Lauren covered her mouth and laughed harder than I'd ever heard her laugh before. "You are too funny, Cal! And too cute!" Lauren immediately stopped laughing then looked horrified. "Oh...my...gosh. I did NOT just say that! Oh, Cal. I am SO sorry. I have no idea why I would something so totally inappropriate. I just..."

I walked over to her and put a hand on her arm. She didn't move away which was a very positive sign. "Hey. Please don't be embarrassed. Please? I know what you meant and that's how I took it. You meant 'cute' as in 'funny.' And even if you didn't that'd be okay, too," I said with a kind smile.

Lauren and I were looking into each other's eyes again. For a brief moment I thought I saw...desire. I didn't try and kiss her. I just stared into her beautiful blue eyes. Then I said softly, "And if we're going to talk about cute, then I'm not the one we should be discussing here anyway." I briefly touched one of her cheeks with the fingers of my hand and then stepped back.

Lauren looked visibly shaken so I immediately moved to lighten the mood. I smiled, walked backwards, and said rather loudly, "So, lasagna. Tomorrow night. You, me, right here." I pointed toward the house with both index fingers.

Lauren smiled but this time it looked...well...uncomfortable. Even so she managed to say, "Yes! Friday. Eight p.m. Right here." No "you and me" but still, I remained hopeful. Hope was a good thing.

It was now Friday at 7:00 and I still had another 12 posts in the trailer. I called Lauren on the walkie-talkie and let her know. "Oh, okay. Well, I haven't put anything in the oven yet. Do you want to quit now or finish up and try doing dinner tomorrow?"

"I'd really like to get these last posts in if that's okay. Besides, with it being as warm as it's been, I really to take a shower before sitting down to dinner so maybe tomorrow will be better. Is that okay?"

I could tell Lauren was disappointed as she said, "Of course. That makes sense. You go ahead and take care of the rest of the job and we'll do this tomorrow. Just stop by the house on the way out if you get a chance, okay?"

"Will do," I told her. It was just after 11pm when I got everything put away. Lauren heard the tractor and came out right as I was finishing up. I turned the light off in the shed, pulled the door closed, then turned toward the house. I was throwing my tee-shirt back on when I saw her.

"You must be exhausted! I wanted to thank you again for doing all this work. Everything looks so good."

I thanked her and told her I should probably get going. She initially agreed but no sooner had I headed toward my car and she said, "Cal? I made some lemonade for dinner. Would you like to come in and have a glass before you go?"

I still had to get up early to get to work at the farm the next day but I wasn't going to pass up a chance to spend some time with Lauren. "Sure. That sounds great. It'd be nice to have something other than water for a change."

We went inside and Lauren led us to the kitchen. She poured us both a glass over crushed ice and suggested we sit down and talk. "I'd love to chat but I must stink to high heaven," I told her. "I should probably just drink this and go."

"I would imagine you do have a bit of a...oh, let's call it a 'manly odor' about you after working that hard, but I'm willing to risk it," she said as she flashed that smile at me.

"Okay. But if you start to feel faint just let me know and I'll take myself and my toxic fumes elsewhere." Lauren laughed and that was all the reassurance I needed.

A first glass of lemonade turned into a second at around midnight once we started talking. Lauren was amazingly intelligent, interesting, and very interested in everything I had to say. No matter the topic, she would listen, offer her opinion or just ask me how I felt about that. At no time did I feel like I was being 'taught' or talked down to by a 40-year old woman. Just two people getting to know one another.

Inevitably, the subject of Karen came up and Lauren asked me how serious things were with us. I told her that while I liked Karen that I didn't see this as any kind of long-term relationship. She asked what if I'd mind sharing what kind of things I was looking for in a potential wife or girlfriend and that took us into a number of different areas. I was as honest and as frank as I could be without going into any detail about my love of older women or my two recent affairs. It also opened the door for me to bring up my love of certain kinds of clothes and Lauren not only didn't think it was strange but asked me several questions about it.

"So you like all sweaters then?"

"Oh, no. I don't like anything baggy and if it looks like a Christmas sweater or something my grandmother would wear, then I have no interest whatsoever." I explained that I liked things that were form fitting but not excessively tight and that ribbing was a huge plus. The grandmother comment elicited a laugh and a nod from Lauren.

"Long sleeved, short sleeved, three-quarter sleeved? Any favorite color or style in terms of neckline and so forth?" She paused and said, "Never mind. Guys don't pay attention to that sort of thing. I should know better, right?

I think I surprised the hell out of her when I was able to explain the difference in necklines and sleeve length. It wasn't exactly rocket science but it was something to which I paid a lot of attention. What surprised me was that I couldn't believe I was actually discussing an area that seemed so...weird, let alone in detail with a gorgeous woman I'd love to fuck in (or out of) my ideal outfit. I accepted my good fortune for what it was and told her, "Well. I guess if I was putting together my favorite look it would be a something like a black, sleeveless, ribbed-knit top with little thin straps, a matching cardigan, maybe a khaki or gold colored skirt, black heels, and gold jewelry." I really felt silly now for going into that kind of detail so I tried to level the playing field by asking her, "Do you have any kind of a favorite look in a guy or is that too personal?"

Lauren laughed softly. "Ha! I've been asking you all kinds of personal things and you've just politely answered all of them. I'm not normally this nosey. It's just that you're really easy to talk to, Cal. So I guess I can at least do the same and answer that question." She thought for a moment then said, "Well, I guess it's a tossup between two kinds of looks. The first I'd call maybe a 'James Dean' sort of look. You know, very simple, very clean. Jeans, white tee-shirt. Great hair is a real plus." I noticed Lauren looking at my own hair which my aunt had initially cut and styled for me which looked a lot like either an older Elvis in the early '70s or maybe 'Joey' from the TV show 'Friends.' I assumed that was exactly what Lauren had in mind based on the way she quickly looked away and seemed somewhat flustered. 

"And the other?" I asked.

"Oh, right. Um, I guess I'd call it a kind of a modified preppy look. You know, nice button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up a turn or two, Dockers, and some kind of loafer shoe maybe?"

I smiled and said, "I'm a little bit surprised."

"How so?" she asked.

"It's just that you're so...sophisticated. You know? I mean, you're really...." It took me a second to find the word I was searching for. "Classy. Yeah, that word is perfect. You're very classy and sophisticated and I kind of assumed you'd prefer a man in an expensive suit with maybe a Rolex watch or something."

Lauren tilted her head slightly and said, "I'll have you know I'm a very down-to-earth girl, Cal. I'm neither pretentious nor a snob!" Her tone of voice was telling me she wasn't offended and that it was important I believe this about her.

I raised my eyebrows to indicate I understood. "I see! Well, the word 'snob' has never once occurred to me where you're concerned, Lauren. Beautiful? Yes. Elegant? Um, yep, that too. Charming? Ding, ding, ding!" She laughed. "Did I mention beautiful?" More laughter.

"I'm not sure if you mentioned that once before or not. But based on how old I am, I'm okay if you said it already." Again, that dazzling smile. I hoped I wouldn't have to stand up for a while. Jesus, she was cute!

"Okay. Then if I'm repeating myself let me switch gears. How about 'cute', 'pretty', and 'drop-dead gorgeous'?" I smiled so as to deflect how serious I was just in case she started to think this was getting out of hand.

She sighed and exhaled deeply. "Oh, my. All I can say is Karen is one very lucky girl. I hope she understands that."

I looked at my watch. It was just after 2am. Lauren had also lost track of the time and said, "Oh my goodness! I am SO sorry. I've kept you up all night just talking away when you need to get up and go to work in a few hours. Please forgive me!"

I sat my glass down and tried to shift Mr. Happy around before standing up. "No problem. I enjoyed talking to you very much. I'd trade a little sleep for time talking to a beautiful woman any day."

Lauren stood up, too, and said, "You are quite the catch, Cal. I'm already envious of the young lady who will one day be your wife." She paused for a moment then said, "Wow. It really must be late. I can't believe I just said that. Once again, can you forgive me for being so inappropriate?"

We were walking toward the front door and as we got to the large open area near it I stopped and turned to face her. "You didn't say anything inappropriate, Lauren. You just said what you felt and it was very kind of you." I paused for effect. "That's just one of the many things I like about you so much." Lauren was looking into my eyes while I spoke and then looked down. I reached out and toucher her arm and said, "Hey. You okay?"

She looked up and our eyes met again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I just feel so...confused when I'm around you. I feel like I'm someone else or something. I don't know if that even makes any sense, but it's how I feel." She reached up to move my hand away but not in a way that said my touch bothered her. "I should stop talking. You need to get home."

As her hand met mine I took it and stepped toward her. I waited for her to look up at me. "I really enjoyed tonight, Lauren. Thank you. You're an amazing woman."

She looked down again and then back up before saying, "Ditto on the amazing part, Cal. I guess I'll see you later....today?"

"You will. I'm very much looking forward to it."

"Me, too," she said. "Goodnight."

Before I replied in leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. As I did, she put her right hand on my left shoulder and I instinctively put my right hand on her lower back. She embraced me with both arms and I did the same. We held one another for a few seconds before I felt her let go and then said, "Goodnight." As I did, she stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek.

"Drive safe. See you tonight, okay?"

Mr. Happy was once more becoming a Louisville Slugger and I was careful to turn away quickly but not so much so that it seemed I was in a hurry to leave. I was so fucking horny that I found myself jerking off at 3am thinking about Lauren, leaving me less than two hours before I had to be up and off to work again. And I had to find time to get to the gym again—soon. Thank god for the stamina that came with being 18!

Chapter 3

Every once in a while even a blind squirrel finds a nut. This was one of those days. We'd been bailing hay on the farm all week which is just flat out hard work. I didn't mind it though, because getting to the gym was impossible thanks to working from 6am until 11pm every single day. I absolutely loved the challenge of throwing hundreds of heavy bales of hay on top of the stack no matter how high it got. It was a thorough combination workout that hit everything from legs to shoulders to back and chest.

The break came when we finished the last of it around 1 o'clock. Time off was virtually unheard of because as everyone whose ever worked on a farm knows, there is always something more to do. And my boss was a tough son of a bitch to boot. I initially hated his guts but after a few months of getting my ass chewed for not being systematic, too slow, or inefficient, I grew to respect that gruff old man. So you can imagine my surprise when we got the last of the hay off the truck and he said, "Okay, Cal. You take the rest of the day off. But don't go soft on me and show up late tomorrow. Understand?" 

That was just his way of keeping up the appearance of being a prick when deep down he was a decent man who'd worked harder all his life than I ever would. "I'll be here at 6 o'clock sharp!" I told him. I knew better than to even try and thank him. 

Before I could walk away he snapped at me. "Six o'clock? Haven't you learned a damn thing here yet?"

I immediately got the message. "Sorry, boss. Work starts at 6 o'clock. I'll be here before that so I'm ready." He snorted and waved me off with a fling of his arm.

I couldn't believe my good fortune. With any luck, I'd be able to pick up a couple of things at JC Penney and maybe even get a couple hours of sleep before my date—er, dinner—later that evening.

When my alarm woke me at 6:30, I felt like I'd been drugged. I had no idea where I was or how I got there. I sat up in bed for a minute and tried to clear my head. I'd only slept about an hour that morning and I'd just crashed for three solid hours. I was still tired but getting just this amount of extra sleep was great.

I was gonna leave the day's stubble on my face but didn't think James Dean would have done that so I shaved as closely as I could. When I finished, I took another long, hot bath and lied there wishing we'd get a shower in our little house one day. That was very unlikely, though, as my dad didn't spend money on "luxuries" and a bathtub was good enough.

After toweling off I grabbed the blow dryer and got my thick mop of dark hair nearly dry. Then I put just a slight amount of product in it to keep it from blowing around and combed it so that a thick shock of it fell down a little bit just above one eye. I didn't have a lot of nice clothes so it was an easy decision to go with the James Dean look. Jeans and tee-shirts were things I had. I just needed to make sure the shirt I chose wasn't dirty or stained which is why I stopped and bought a new three-pack of Hanes. I threw them in the washer as soon as I got home and popped them in the dryer when I woke up. They were just finishing and looked wrinkle free. What more could a guy ask from underwear? I pulled one on making sure not to mess up my "do" then pulled on a pair of Levis 501s and the new topsider shoes I bought with the tee-shirts. A last look in the mirror convinced me there was nothing more I could do. She was either gonna love what I'd done or possibly let me know I'd gotten the wrong impression. I just hoped I wouldn't get slapped again by another older, attractive woman.

It wasn't nearly as warm as it had been. The sun was still up but it felt like it was a good 15 degrees cooler than it had been. "Looks like summer in Seattle is over," I thought to myself as I walked up the long sidewalk to the "big house." As I rang the doorbell I was regretting my decision not to bring flowers. Just as quickly, I reminded myself that it would have been "inappropriate" to do so. Lauren was a married woman and if things were going to happen they had to just sort of sneak up on us. Had I made any kind of overt gesture, Lauren may have become defensive. I laughed. "No flowers because that might arouse suspicion but dressing up like her favorite fantasy will go unnoticed. Are you stupid or what, asshole?" I said to myself. Too late now. The door was opening.




Bagging Lauren



"Hi, Cal. Come... Oh...my...gosh! Look at you! James Dean is back and having dinner with me tonight! Come in, come in. How was your day? Did you get any sleep?"

As I stepped inside and Lauren closed the door, I was frozen in my tracks. I didn't hear a word she said. I did my best not to stare but I couldn't help myself. I looked up and then down and then realized my mouth might be open. Lauren was wearing a pair of black, open-toed high heeled sandals, a short (at least by Mormon standards) gold-colored skirt, and a black sweater twin set that was exactly what I'd described as my favorite look. A gold necklace and matching earrings set off her beautiful face which was fully made up but which didn't look overdone at all.

"Cal? You okay? Did you get any sleep last night?"

I finally managed to get hold of myself and then realized I was indeed staring. "I'm so sorry, Lauren. Maybe I'm a little punchy or something. I actually did get a few hours, thank you." I explained what happened at work and she told me how glad she was I'd gotten some rest. 

"You've worked pretty much all day, every day for nearly two weeks and then I kept you up to all hours this morning. I really felt very bad about that."

We were now in the kitchen and I once again found myself staring. "Cal? Yoo-hoo? Are you with me?"

Once again, I tried to clear my head and focus. Lauren was beautiful beyond belief. "I am. With you—that is. I just can't stop staring. I'm sorry. I know it's rude but you are so amazingly beautiful tonight I can't help it. I don't know who the female equivalent of James Dean would be but you are definitely her."

Her smile was unbelievable. "Thank you," she said. "I have to tell you I spent most of the day at two different malls. It's a safe bet I tried on at least 50 different sweaters looking for the perfect thing. Did I do okay?"

I motioned for her to turn around and let me see the entire look. She made one quick spin then stopped and looked at me for a sign of approval. I shook my head and said very seriously, "No, sorry. You do not look okay."

Lauren looked crestfallen. I moved closer to her and gently ran my fingers up and down her arm. "You don't look 'okay' because the correct word is—stunning. No, check that. Make that—breathtaking. Yes, that's it. Breathtaking. And that's why I can't stop staring. I mean, I'm trying but..."

Her smile was back. She put her hand on my cheek and said quietly, "You don't have to stop. I don't mind...at all."

I reached up and took her small hand in mine and kissed the back of it. I released and said, "You are without doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"You forgot to add 'for someone over 40', right?" she told me.

I squeezed her hand then reached for the other before saying, "I didn't forget anything. I've been unable to take my eyes off you from the first time we met. And now, here you are, looking like this. My I ask you something, Lauren?"

We were now very close and Lauren put her arms around my neck. "I told you before you can ask me anything. Remember?"

"Did you wear this for me?"

Lauren released my hands and put hers together behind my neck and pulled me closer. "Do you really have to ask that, Cal? If so, then my question to you would be, 'Are you really unaware that I can't keep my eyes off of you, either.' Seriously? Did you not see me staring at you in the barn when you had your shirt off?"

I put my arms around her and we looked into one another's eyes for a few moments. Then Lauren raised herself up on her toes and kissed me full on the lips. I put my arms around her tiny waist and pulled her in tight as I kissed her back. Lauren moaned softly as I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth. "Mmmmm. Yes," she murmured. "You have no idea how badly I wanted you to kiss me like this last night when you were leaving."

I pressed close against her body and she pushed back searching for my rock-hard cock with her stomach. When she found it, she gasped. I ran my hand down her arm then slipped it inside of the cardigan sweater and ran it up and down her side. On the way back up, I placed my thumb firmly underneath her breast and lifted gently.

"Oh...yes!" she said as our kisses grew more passionate. She turned her body in order to place her boob in my hand. I took it and squeezed it. Gently at first and then harder and harder until Lauren squealed, "That feels so good."

I loved hearing women curse during sex but there was something even more exciting about the taboo nature of a religious woman doing it. I took one of her hands and led it to where my cock was straining against the denim of my jeans.

Lauren purred and whispered hungrily, "Do you have any idea how long it's been?" Her one hand was soon joined by the other in order to unsnap my jeans and get at what she wanted underneath.

I continued to massage her breasts as she worked her way through the buttons and then pulled them down. "Take your shoes off for me," she said as she slid her hand through the hole of my boxers. I felt her small hand wrap briefly around my cock which was now standing at full attention.

I kicked off one and then the other as Lauren pushed me toward the living room and the huge couch in the middle of it. I fell backward and as I did, Lauren grabbed my jeans and pulled. My socks were off in an instant and then she said, "Lift up. Let's get those off of you right now." 

Once my lower body was completely nude, Lauren reached out for my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position. Once I was there, she leaned down and kissed me deeply again then fell to her knees and took my cock into her hands. One worked the shaft while the other massaged my balls. Without taking her eyes off my mine, she lowered her red lips onto my cock and began sliding up and down with a level of skill that both surprised and amazed me.

"Do you like that?" she said as the head of dick popped out of her mouth. 

My groans answered her question. "Mmmmm. I thought so. You have a very big, very beautiful cock," she said as she went back to work. I nearly came when she raised up and deep throated me. I heard her gag slightly and a ton of saliva flowed from her mouth.

"I've never done this before but it's all I've been able to think about since last night," she told me.

"Never? In all those years of marriage?"

"Never. It always seemed so...dirty. But with you it seems so...natural."

"It feels wonderful," I told her. She immediately took me into her mouth again. "And I have a thing for dirty, too."

Again, that wonderful popping sound of the head of my shaft leaving her soft, warm mouth. "Dirtier than this?" she asked as she stroked my cock and massaged my balls.

"I love dirty talk during sex.

"I can fucking do that, too," Lauren said with a wicked smile. She sucked me several more times and said, "Too firsts for me tonight. Am I doing okay?"

I was now moaning loudly and said, "Again, the 'okay' just isn't cutting it. Jesus, Lauren! That feels so fucking good. Please don't stop, baby."

"Bet you didn't think Mormon girls could suck cock, did you?" she said as she flashed that wicked smile again. There was a fountain of saliva all around her mouth and my cock which she used to keep things very wet. 

I grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down. No resistance. I pushed harder. Still no resistance. I controlled her bobbing head for a few strokes then pushed her way down deep and held her there. "Take it deep. Good girl. Hold it. Don't stop." Finally, I heard that familiar gag that told me she could take no more.

Lauren gasped as her head came up. There was now a small ocean of her saliva all over my crotch. She was panting trying to catch her breath. "I LOVE that!" she said. "Sorry. I fucking love that shit! Make me do more. Please!" I shoved her back down until she gagged over and over until I thought I'd explode. Just then, I grabbed her hair and lifted her off my cock.

I pulled her down onto my lap and said, "Get out of that skirt—now!" Lauren stood up and in two moves unzipped it, let it fall, then stepped out of it. I noticed she wasn't wearing any underwear and felt even more emboldened. "Someone wanted to get fucked tonight didn't she?"

"You better fucking believe it," she purred. "I haven't had sex in nearly a year and I'm sick of playing with my vibrator. I want your big cock in me right fucking now and all fucking night. Is that dirty enough for you?"

"That's a very good start," I said as I swung her around and sat her on my lap again with her legs straddling me. She began pushing her soaking wet pussy against my rock-hard cock and also began moaning loudly. I stopped her by lifting her up and held her in midair with her pussy resting on the tip of my cock. "What are you doing? Stop teasing me, Cal! Let slide down onto your cock. Please! I'm begging you. Just fucking give it to me, baby!"

"Uh, uh. You have to swear first," I said.

Lauren's hand was on my cock lining it up and desperately trying to get her way. "I am fucking swearing!" she said. "I want you to FUCK me. What more do you want me say? Just tell me. I'll fucking say anything. Just give me your fucking cock. Please!"

"You have to say 'God damn.' Say, 'I want you to fucking God damn fuck my God damn pussy.'"

Lauren was straining as hard as she could to get me inside of her. "You bastard!" she said. "I want your fucking cock in me. Please!"

"I'm stronger than you are and I can hold you like this all night, sweetie. Say it. Then you get cock. Not before."

"You asshole! I'm dying to be fucked and you want....you want..." Then she went limp and put her arms around me and kissed me. "Cal, please. I want your God....I want...I want your...god...your goddamned cock in my...fucking...goddamned pussy. Now will you PLEASE...."

I released my grip and slid her onto my waiting shaft. She was so wet it was unbelievable. She fell all the way to the hilt in a split second.

"Yes! Yes!!! Oh, fucking goddammit—yes!" she screamed. Lauren began bouncing and grinding and pushing. "Fuck, yes! That feels sooo fucking good!"

I also pulled her down on each stroke and occasionally held down hard and ground against her pussy.

"Say it again for me."

"Oh, fuck! Ooooooo!" Lauren bit her lip. "Oh, yes!"

"Say it for me, baby."

"Okay. Your...goddamned cock feels...so...fucking goddamned...good in my fucking pussy! Oh, my fucking God. I'm going to cum!"

"Not yet," I said and I held her to stop her motion.

"No???," she screamed. "What do you MEAN 'no?' That is SO mean. I want to cum SO fucking bad. Please let me cum. I've been a good girl. I've done everything you asked. The sweater...the swearing. Please, please let me cum!"

"Not until you say one more thing for me."

"Cal...it's not...fair. I haven't had sex over twelve months and I want to cum. I NEED to cum...bad. Please!"

"No," I told her. Not until you say, 'Jesus fucking Christ this feels so fucking goddamned good! Then you can cum."

Lauren was so close to cumming but I wouldn't let her move or grind. "I hate you. I hate you! I hate..." Lauren was straining to move. "I want to cum soooo bad. I want you to cum inside me. Oh, fuck! I want you so bad."

"Then say it for me."

Lauren was desperate. "I...I...I want... Oh, please. Your cock feels so...fucking good." Lauren paused and I let her squirm just a bit.

"I can be very nice when you give me what I want. If you want me to cum inside you then say it for me, honey."

I let her grind just a little bit and even pushed against her pussy. "Just one more little favor for me. Please?"

Lauren looked ready to explode. "Okay. Okay! Jesus...Jesus...fucking...CHRIST your cock feels so...fucking...goddamned good inside my fucking pussy! Now please, please let me cum!!!!"

I let go of her and joined Lauren as she began grinding again. Hard and furious. Her breathing was as out of control as she was. I felt her push hard against me and then she paused and without further prompting said, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! I'm going to fucking cum!"

I shot my load deep inside her as her body began to shake and tremble uncontrollably. Both of us were breathing so loud we couldn't hear the timer on the oven that had been going off for the last few seconds.

Lauren put her arms around me and collapsed on me. "You okay?" I asked as I ran my hands up and down her back."

"No. I'm not okay," she said panting uncontrollably. "I hate you." 

"Why? Because I asked you to say things that turn me on?"

"No," she sobbed. 

"Why are you crying, Lauren? What's wrong? Tell me."

Lauren was kissing my neck even as tears streamed down her face. They were warm and fell in large drop. More kissing. "I hate you because...because you made me face the reality of my marriage...and my life. I hate you for...for making me feel alive again when I've felt dead for so long. And yet I know that this...this...being with you...can't go on. And I hate my husband for having an affair and for leaving me alone so much and I hate myself for not having the courage to divorce him and then you come along and make me—feel again. So I hate you for that." Lauren's face was twisted and contorted in genuine anguish and I found myself in completely unfamiliar territory. I didn't know what to say or do. "I'm sorry" seemed utterly trite so I just held her close.

"Do you want me to leave?" I said as she continued kissing my neck and face.

"No," she whispered to me. "And that's the problem. I want you to stay. But you can't. But I can't let you go, either. I'm so fucking confused. Do you know I've never cursed in life other than saying 'damn' or 'hell' a time or two? And I've never had sex with another man before tonight. And I've definitely never sucked cock. And yet...I enjoyed all of them. I should feel guilty and maybe tomorrow I will but right now I feel...alive. I feel truly alive for the first time in my entire life. And I'm SO happy!" Lauren was openly crying. Her head was on my shoulder with her arms around me. "Please don't leave me. Please?"

My cock was still inside her but had gone completely soft. I felt it slip out and Lauren reached down for it.

"No! Don't you dare," she screamed. "I want more. I want more of you. I want more of this. She slid off me and got back on her knees and took me in her mouth. She was no longer crying but her beautiful eyes were still wet. "Here. Let me get that." Lauren paused long enough for me to use my tee-shirt to wipe away her tears. Her mascara was everywhere.

"I'm not so beautiful now, am I?" she said.

I pulled her up on my lap and held her. "You really have no idea, do you? You think makeup or hair or things are what make you pretty. They don't. YOU are pretty, Lauren. YOU are beautiful. I'm here for YOU. I can't help needing what I need and neither can you, but I want to experience those things with YOU because YOU turn me on. I'm crazy attracted to YOU and I don't care about your mascara or your hair."

Lauren pushed her boobs into my face. "And I want all of this with YOU, Cal. I know this is impossible. I know you can't marry me. I know I'm even too afraid to divorce my husband. I just know I've been so lonely and so...empty. For far too long I didn't think I'd ever feel anything again. And now this. My life is a sham. My marriage is a sham. I go through the motions every day but I don't feel anything. I got to the point where I didn't really care if I even woke up again until the day I saw you with your shirt off. Even then, I tried to shove those feelings aside. I tried being practical. I told myself I was a crazy, middle-aged woman who was losing her mind. But just being around you and then...talking with you last night. I felt something I haven't felt in over 20 years—happiness. And I want more of that. I want to feel this for as long as I can even though I know there can't be an 'us' for any real length of time. But I want you as often as I can have for as long as I can have you."

Lauren sat back and looked at me. "Are you ready to run yet? If you're not, you probably should because if you don't, I'm going to want to keep seeing you even if it costs me my marriage and my membership in the Church. So, do you still want to stay with the batshit crazy Mormon woman?"

I slid my hand under her sweater and massaged her breast. Lauren bent down so we could kiss and we did so passionately. I moved my hand back down to her pussy and stroked her clit. "Does that answer your question, honey?" I asked.

Lauren arched her back and moaned loudly. "So you'll stay? So you want to keep fucking me?" she moaned as her breathing deepened.

"As long as you keep wearing sweaters and cursing God..."

Her breathing was already steady and once again growing deep. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'll do anything for you. Anything. Just promise me I can have you in my life as long as possible and I'll do whatever you want whenever you want. Promise me?"

"I promise."

Lauren began grinding again as the cum from my first orgasm oozed out of her pussy and down onto my cock. "Looks like we made a mess," I said.

Lauren slid off my lap and back onto her knees. She began licking the cum off of my cock and said to me, "Don't you dare call this a mess. To me, this is the most beautiful thing I've seen in a very long time." She paused then said, "Well, other than your beautiful face and that freaking gorgeous, hard body of yours, that is. I'm so happy your cum is inside me and that I'll be able to carry you around with me for a while at least. I love having your cum inside me." 

I pulled Lauren back up into the same position and help her lift up so she could take my cock inside of her again. More grinding. I was getting very hard again. "One more fuck tonight?" she said playfully but seriously.

"Definitely," I said as I pulled her close and kissed her. I ran my hands along the sleeves of her sweater. "Thank you for wearing this for me. It's beautiful and so I are. I love you for that."

"Shhh. Don't talk. Don't say anything. And especially don't say that. Because... because...just don't you dare make me fall in love with you because you'll break my heart when you tell me this is over. Promise me you won't do that."

This time, I didn't answer. I just stroked her hair and kissed her softly. I was rock hard again and Lauren slid up and down on my granite shaft. "Oh, fuck, that feels so goddamned good, honey." Lauren ground and bounded as she moaned and groaned.

Then she stopped for a brief moment and pulled herself close. She put her mouth next to my ear and said, "And I meant what I said. I'll wear...or do...anything for you and that scares the hell out of me but it also excites me like nothing ever has." 

Without another word Lauren was bouncing furiously on my cock again. She stopped, flipped around, then rode me the other way. "Oh, God. I'm gonna cum again. Oh...Jesus...fucking...Christ!!! I want more of your cum in my fucking goddamned pussy!" I waited until her orgasm started then released another monster load of cum into her pussy.

"Happy now?" I whispered in her ear as she collapsed onto my chest.

"Very, very happy. And you? Are you fucking goddamned happy, my love?"

"Very," I told her as I wrapped my arms around her and held until my cock fell out again along with a huge amount of white, salty cum.

I was figuratively in heaven and Lauren was going to hell, but it was obvious she fully intending to enjoy the trip.