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A Strange Arrangement Ch. 01

By: nageren



Due to the nature of the narrative, it's a slow build to the sex in this first chapter. 

***** 

I was down to my last $30. It wasn't easy being a girl on your own with no special training or skills. I thought that I could take a year or two after finishing college to figure out my direction in life. I wanted to "find myself," though I would never describe it in such cliché terms. But before I could find myself I had to find a job. A degree in Art History, while enjoyable at the time, was not getting me in any doors. 

I had decided early on to move far enough away from my parents to have that safety net out of the picture. I may even have burned some bridges in that regard, but no need to visit that story right now. In any case, it was sink or swim, and I was so sure I was ready to swim. But I was sinking...and gasping. Part-time waitressing wasn't paying the bills, and full-time work just wasn't out there right now. I had cut my expenses as much as possible, and that was probably one really good thing about this experience. A lot of things that had once seemed like necessities to me were now exposed as the luxuries they really are. Manicures? Cable TV? Eating out? All a part of a past life...and hopefully a future one, too. But for now they could wait, and I really was glad for that lesson. 

It was while I was writing that last rent check- the one I wasn't 100% sure would clear- that I seriously considered going back to The Creep. 

******* 

I had responded to an ad online- something about offering room and board in exchange for "household duties." It sounded a bit like au pair work to me- clean and cook, maybe some nanny work, and your rent is free. When I found out that "and board" meant food was included, the deal seemed even sweeter. So I went to the house. 

It was a small townhouse on the outskirts of the city- still within the reach of public transportation, so I might even be able to ditch the car for a while. Things seemed messy, but not slovenly. The guy wasn't a slob, but he wasn't keeping up with things. My first impressions of him were good- he was nice enough, not pervy or obnoxious, and he was reasonably attractive, probably in his early thirties. I noticed the wedding ring but didn't mention it at first. No sign of kids, so no nannying (thank God). 

While he was polite and mature, he wasn't overly friendly. He wasn't rude, he just seemed distant. Sad. Tired. I wasn't expecting to be friends with him, but I also wasn't worried about living in the same space, especially if his wife was around. 

After about 5 minutes of formalities- where was I from, where did I work, etc.- he shifted in his seat a bit and said, "Before we get any further, we should probably discuss the details of the arrangement I'm proposing." At this point I was already inclined to accept it- free rent and food would really help me out, especially since I could continue working part-time to get back on my feet. Even if it was only a temporary arrangement, it would be a good transitional solution. 

He went on. "I'm offering a room of your own and full use of the house, other than my own room. I'll buy groceries to cover our meals." 

"That sounds great- it's even more than I expected for what you're asking," I said, hopefully. 

"Well, you haven't heard yet what I'm asking," he said, becoming visibly uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to continue, but I jumped in. 

"Your ad said 'household duties.' I'm assuming that means cleaning, cooking, laundry...Is it just the two of you?" I looked down at his ring. 

He seemed startled, "Two?" Then looking at his ring and turning it nervously he said, "No, it..it's just me. My wife...doesn't live here." 

"Is she..." 

"She's not in the picture," he said quickly. "And please...I..." he took a deep breath, calmed a bit, and said, "I'd rather not talk about that right now." 

"OK," I said softly. Meanwhile my mind was trying to run through the possibilities: Dead? Separated? Crazy and locked in a room upstairs? Was this a secretly-kept second home? 

"Sex." 

Well that sure drew my mind back into the conversation. "Excuse me, what did you say?" 

"I said sex- that...that's the catch. Household duties include sexual relations...with me...on a regular basis." He was serious. He was also refusing to make eye contact- staring off into the distance, probably not needing to look at me to know my response. 

I wanted to slap him, but I was afraid what might happen if I did. I suddenly felt very, very vulnerable- by myself, in his house, with his...sick proposal hanging out. And no one even knew where I was. I opened my mouth to reply, but words failed me. Mouth still open, I shook my head in disbelief, stood up, and walked out the door in a daze. 

******* 

That was over 6 months ago. I never called back, and he never contacted me. I chalked up to, "it takes all kinds of weirdos to make a city." I didn't think much about it and expected that some day it would be just a funny story I told at parties, the one about The Creep who wanted me to be his live-in whore. 

But here I was, six months later, broke and needing a place to live. Now the idea of accepting his offer seemed a little less outrageous. 

After I had sent that doomed rent check, I took my last $30 and went to the store. I said "screw it" to my meticulous budgeting and bought enough alcohol to build up the courage to call The Creep back. At the same time, I was trying to talk myself out of it, or at least convince myself that it wouldn't actually happen. 

He had probably already found someone. Maybe he realized that he just wanted a whore to do housework and had found exactly that- a professional prostitute who could put together a decent meal. Most likely, he'd been arrested when some other girl reported his "terms" to the police. Or maybe he had been arrested for assault when some potential "houseworker" didn't respond well to his proposal. 

Convinced that it would be a wasted call, I dialed the number (which I had naively saved back when I thought it was a much simpler arrangement). He answered quickly. 

"Hello? Hello, who is this?" He sounded worried. Oops, I hadn't even noticed that it was after 2 a.m. Oh, well. 

"I'll take your stupid room." 

He sighed. "You're drunk and I'm at work. Whoever you are, call me back when you're sober, if you still want to." Then he hung up on me. That bastard had hung up on me. Of all the...never mind. I put the phone down and went to sleep. 

******* 

The next afternoon I made the painful realization that I had only delayed my problems, not solved them. I still had to call The Creep, but now I was completely broke, had a headache, and had drunk-called a pervert. I would say I had made a fool of myself, but that would only be true if I had any respect for the guy. 

I had a shift that afternoon- the tips weren't bad, but they were a sore reminder that even a string of good days like this wouldn't be enough to keep me afloat. My only remaining expenses were rent, food, and gas. I couldn't cut back any more. That evening, I picked up the phone again. I closed by eyes while it rang. 

"Hello?" 

"I'd like to see if your room is still available." 

"Are you sober this time?" There was no humor in his voice. 

"Yes." 

"Have we met before?" All business. 

"Yes." 

"And so you know...what the offer entails?" 

"Yes, or at least the basics. I think I need to hear more about the details." 

"OK. I'll be home all evening, or tomorrow from 4 to 6." 

"I'd prefer not to meet at your place. Could we meet somewhere...semi-public? Tomorrow at 4?" ('Just in case you are a serial killer,' I thought). 

"That's fine. Makes sense- you're probably at least a little freaked out. There's a park a block north of my house. It's not too big. Find a bench, I'll come there straight from work." 

"OK. Do you remember what I look like?" 

"Only 4 girls heard the terms, and I can rule two of them out..." 

Oh shit. What happened to the other two? "Um..." 

"...by your voice and your accent...or lack of accent." 

"Oh." 

"So I'll probably find you easily enough." 

"Alright. See you tomorrow," ("Creep," I mentally added). 

******* 

My morning shift sucked. Breakfast crowds are usually lousy tippers. Old people who don't know the value of a dollar, people too buried in their paper to notice that you are serving them, moms having brunch together when neither of them can really afford it, hungover college kids... 

Besides that, my mind was completely off track. I kept wondering what the details were. And could I really bring myself to do this? 

******* 

I dropped off a few more applications in the afternoon. Job-hunting was just something I did on auto-pilot now. I didn't expect anything to happen, but I had to keep trying, especially if I was getting so desperate that I was considering shacking up with The Creep. 

******* 

I sat on the bench at exactly 4. My smart phone with its expensive data plan was a luxury I had given up a few months ago. So I looked around, watched people passing by, and waited. I wondered how many of these people had some sad drama going on behind their smiles, behind their earphones, behind their appearances and distractions. 

I was lost in thought when someone sat down next to me. "Hey." He startled me a bit, but when I looked at him, his looks were a bit disarming. I think memory had turned him into a monster- red-eyed, sharp-toothed, unkempt and shady. But the reality was different. 

He had on overalls from a body shop, and if the embroidered name tag was to believed, his name was Andrew. Funny I had never gotten his name before. His clothes were dirty from work, but he looked clean enough. If I could pick out a different outfit for him, he might even pass for handsome. 

"Hi." That was the best I could do under the circumstances. 

"Sooo...what was your name again?" 

"Gina." Good, I told myself, don't give him your last name. He's still creepy. 

"You want the details?" 

"Yes, the details. I remember you said household duties included sex. I imagine there is more to that. I'm guessing you aren't talking about a once-a-month rent 'payment.'" 

"Yeah. I don't remember what exactly I told you. It was, what, 3 or 4 months ago?" 

"Six months," I replied tersely, trying not to be offended that it was so forgettable for him. 

"OK. The arrangement is sex on a regular basis. For me that means several times a week- at least 3, but sometimes more, and never more than two days without. And I'm not asking for anything weird or kinky. Just the two of us, naked, having sex. Oral counts, but not if it's every time. And you'd have to be an active, willing participant. I'm not into rape or tying you up or anything." 

He kept looking around and pausing as people walked by. I can't imagine what people would think if they heard snippets of this conversation. 

"You don't have to act like you love it, but don't act like you hate it either. You'd have to be on the pill or something, and if you tell me you're clean, I'll trust you. I can show you my medical record- I'm clean. No condoms with me. And since that would be the arrangement, if you have any other relationships involving sex, you'd have to use condoms." 

Then he stopped short and looked at me a little fearfully, "You're not recording this or anything, are you? You're not..." 

I rolled my eyes, "No, and the idea hadn't occurred to me, though I dare say it wouldn't be a bad idea." Then that got me thinking. "You wouldn't be filming anything in the house, would you?" 

He wrinkled his brow in confusion, as if he didn't understand what I was saying. Then it seemed he figured it out, straightened up suddenly and answered with a mildly shocked, "O God, no! Hell no! I'm not doing anything weird or pervy here, I'm just talking about simple, regular sex between two people." 

"Well, the conditions you're suggesting are pervy in the big picture, I'm just trying to see what your game is." 

"No game. I just have normal needs- in the house and in the bedroom- and I'm trying to find someone whose financial needs I can meet in exchange." 

"How is this not just prostitution?" 

He sighed and looked at me in the eyes for a moment, I think for the first time. "I don't really know. Maybe it's that it occurs in the context of a longer-term relationship. Maybe all...um...y'know, forget it. Are you seriously considering this, or are you just wanting to ask questions?" He wasn't being caustic or annoyed. He just seemed tired. 

"I'm seriously considering it, but it's a lot to take in. Especially the no condoms idea. Let's say I'm serious enough that you should get your medical check ready. I'll call you later this week with my decision." 

He seemed surprised by that. "OK. You have my number. Thanks for not freaking out, Gina. I've got to go change for work." 

"Work?" 

"Two jobs. The next one starts at 6," he said, walking away. 

I sat on the bench and thought...and thought...and thought. While his whole idea seemed a little weird, he didn't seem like a creepy perv, except for having the idea of a housekeeper who puts out. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would hit up the dating scene, and if he was working two jobs, he was probably too busy to date anyway. So it made a little more sense why he'd want someone around just for sex and housework. But I still didn't like not knowing what was up with the wife. 

I pulled out a piece of scrap paper and started jotting down notes. It was a bit of a pro-con list. No condoms? Pill? Wife? Future boyfriends? FREE RENT! FREE FOOD! It's just sex. Can leave any time. He's not ugly. He's gone a lot. Farther to travel to work. 

It was interesting to realize that I wasn't too concerned about the idea of exchanging sex for rent. It was weird, sure, but I wondered if I've often done that. Not for rent, of course, but for affection, for security, for status. When have I ever had sex without hoping to gain something by it? In this case, I was just gaining something much more tangible. And the terms were formalized. I had tried to trade sex for love before, but since we hadn't agreed on terms, he got sex and I got nothing. This time, I was getting what I wanted, right? 

******* 

That was Tuesday. I called him on Thursday afternoon. I had a counter-offer. "So, here are my conditions: You pay for my birth control. You pay for gas to get me to work. You don't sleep with anyone else while I'm living with you. And you tell me what's up with your wife." 

The background noise of the body shop was a bit strong. "What? Hang on! Let me step outside!" It got a lot quieter. "OK, what were you saying?" I repeated my terms. He was quiet for a minute. 

"I'll cover the pills. I'll fill up your tank twice a month and cover all your car maintenance. There won't be anyone else. But the story of my wife is mine to tell in my own time." 

That was better than I thought, but I still wanted to press the last issue. "Nuh-uh. If there's a chance this is going to affect me, I should..." 

"There's not," he cut me off. "She's not in the picture. She's not going to come storming into the apartment looking for you or anything like that. And I'm not living some secret, double life. You've been to my home, that's all there is to it. I work, I come home, it's simple. There's no one else, there's nothing else." 

Apparently I had hit a nerve. But I could live with that arrangement for now. And there was nothing committing me to stay- if it didn't work out, I could leave and see it as just a failed 'relationship.' 

"OK. I'll do it. My lease is up in two weeks, I'll move in next Saturday." 

"OK. Do you need help moving?" I hadn't expected that. 

"Umm, no, I've got it covered." Why did I say that? Now I'd have to find someone to help! 

"I'm off next Saturday morning and afternoon. Get here before 6, OK?" 

"No problem. I'll see you then." I hung up. 

I felt sick. 

******* 

The room was pink. Like, baby girl pink. The furniture was probably Ikea bargain bin- sparse, simple. There were no decorations, not even a cheesy framed painting. But there was a nice window that got some good sun in the afternoon. It really brightened up the place. The room was big enough to fit my few bags and one piece of furniture (oh, how I love my reclining chair!), but I was glad that I had access to the whole house, otherwise I would have been a bit cramped in that one room. 

I had showed up early in the afternoon and it didn't take me long to unpack my stuff. Steve, a cook from the kitchen at my restaurant, used his pick-up truck to move my chair, and Andrew helped him get it up to my second-floor room. I offered to buy Steve a 6-pack for his trouble, but he brushed it off and said I could get him a drink another time. 

I didn't tell Steve (or anyone, for that matter) about the conditions of my new living situation, I just introduced Andrew as "my roommate/landlord." Once Steve had left, Andrew came to my door and said, "Go ahead and take today to settle in, I'll order something for dinner. You can start tomorrow." 

"OK." Gee, thanks. I can 'start' tomorrow. What a nice euphemism for "I'll fuck you tomorrow." 

When the pizza arrived, Andrew knocked on my door and said, "There's pizza and drinks in the kitchen if you want." 

I cracked the door and snapped, "What, you're not going to require me to eat with you, too?" 

He shrugged and answered, "The company would be nice, but I'm not going to make you do anything." 

I knew I was being a bit bitchy, but I still wanted him to feel like a sleazebag for even thinking of this arrangement. Never mind that I wasn't forced into it. I just wanted to make sure I took advantage of the moral high ground. 

I was actually very hungry. My funds had run out on Thursday, and I was scraping by on extra food I had slipped into my pockets from customers who ordered way more than they intended to eat. But my pride kept me in my room until a little before 6pm. Andrew came up the stairs and said through the door, "I'm leaving for work. Your key is on the kitchen table. I'll be back around 3. I'll probably sleep late tomorrow, but wake me if you need anything." 

Not likely. 

Once I heard the door shut, I walked straight to the kitchen, pocketed the key, and devoured three slices of pizza and a Coke before I had time to even look around. There were dirty dishes in the sink, old leftovers in the fridge, and a pile of dirty clothes outside the door of what I presumed was the laundry room. There was also a small TV and DVD player in front of the couch. I hadn't seen a movie in months! I joyfully leaped over the back of the couch and into a seat, reached over to grab the remotes, and started whatever movie was in the DVD player. 

I expected either porn or an action movie, but what I got was an older comedy that I hadn't seen before. Nothing great, but at the time it was like the pizza- its goodness was magnified by the time spent without. 

I wanted to explore the house and see what I could learn about this guy, but a full stomach and comfortable lodgings trumped that plan. I finished the movie and went to bed, forgetting, for a while, that there was still a price to pay for my relative luxury. 

******* 

I woke up early, probably because I had fallen asleep so early. I found breakfast in the kitchen (Andrew had brought back donuts- boy, was I eating healthy here!), got dressed in some work clothes, and then set about cleaning. It only took a few hours to get the basics done- laundry and dishes out of sight, etc. Deeper cleaning would have to wait. I had an afternoon and evening shift at the restaurant. 


A Strange Arrangement Ch. 01



I heard Andrew stirring in the late morning. I guessed he wouldn't need breakfast, and there was pizza and donuts available for lunch. I changed for work and headed out, leaving a note telling Andrew my work schedule for that day. I would be home after 9. 

******* 

My commute was a little longer now, but I didn't mind, especially knowing my gas would be paid for. When I got back to the house that night, Andrew was at work. I was starting to think I hadn't taken into account how little I would see him. Suddenly my situation seemed even better. There was a note on the table, however: 

Gina, 

Please write down your work schedule for as far in advance as you know it. We need to plan a few times to be in the house together. 

Andrew. 

Ugh. Why did he try to make things sound civil. "Gina, I want to know when I can fuck you. Andrew." 

Whatever. I wrote down my schedule for the week. If he was going to be working every day and night, then we weren't going to overlap much. Maybe he'd revise his definition of "regular" down to once or twice a week. 

I did some more light housework and even tried to organize the kitchen a bit. Then I opened up my computer to look for jobs. I was surprised when the door opened at a little before midnight and Andrew walked in. I had thought his night shift went until 3! 

"Hey, I'm glad you're up." 

(I bet you are.) "I was just about to head to bed." 

"Just a minute, we have some things to work out." 

(Really? "Things to work out?") "Can it wait?" 

"Not really. You may have noticed that we're pretty much out of food. I didn't want to go shopping without talking to you. Do you have any allergies or anything you really don't like to eat?" 

(This is not where I thought this was going) "Uhh...not really. I don't like much seafood, and I have a low tolerance for spicy food." 

"OK. I'll hit the store after work tomorrow. I picked up some TV dinners to cover you until then. And here's a gas card- it's good for the station down the road. With your model of car, there should be enough on this for two fill-ups. I'll add more next month." 

"Thanks. I'm working tomorrow evening, so I guess I won't see you...?" I tried not to sound as hopeful as I felt. 

"Actually, I've changed my shifts around at the body shop to make our schedules work better. On days when I don't work my night job, I'll start at the body shop at noon. So I'll see you in the morning," he said, heading toward the stairs. 

"Oh, OK." 

"And, uh...I was thinking that tomorrow morning..." 

He was behind me at this point and couldn't see that I had closed my eyes to brace for the next phrase. I jumped in, "Yeah, whatever. We'll have sex." I used the same tone of voice I would use if I was saying, "Sure, I'll take out the trash." I hoped he couldn't hear my voice tremble. 

He breathed out audibly. If it wasn't such a creepy situation, it would have been cute how nervous he seemed. "Good," he said. "Just come to my room when you wake up." 

"Good night," I said, trying to sound bored and unaffected. 

"Yeah...good night" As soon as he was up the stairs, I dropped my face into my arms on the table. I felt sick. 

******* 

Well, this was it. I woke up a little after 8. I thought of showering, but then realized I had no desire to be nice for him. I didn't even bother to deal with my morning breath. I took off my clothes, threw on a robe, and walked down the hall. I knocked softly on his door. 

"Come in." I opened the door and peeked in. I'm not sure why I was being careful- in a few minutes, modesty would be irrelevant. 

Andrew was already up and in a towel- apparently he had already showered and shaved. How considerate. His body was nothing exceptional- he wouldn't pass as a stripper or model. But I'm sure many women would find him attractive with his slightly muscular chest and firm abs. He wasn't very hairy, which suited me fine. Under different circumstances, I don't think I would mind taking him to bed. 

There was a moment of awkwardness while I waited for him to initiate or say something, but he just stared at my body, then looked away, slightly embarrassed, and said, "Well, I guess..." 

"Let's get this over with," I said, shrugging off my robe and climbing onto the king-sized bed. I was showing way more bravado than I was feeling, but it was the only thing I could do that didn't involve running out of the room. I lay down on my back, naked, and spread my legs. "Go ahead and get your rocks off," I said, trying to sound like this was no big deal. 

Andrew just looked at me for a few seconds, then dropped the towel from around his waist. 

As he climbed on the bed, I casually mentioned, "You might want to get some lube. I'm not exactly eager." 

"Oh, umm," he looked around, cast a look back at the bathroom door, then shrugged his shoulders, and shocked the hell out of me. He had been poised over me, ready to enter when suddenly he had his head between my legs. With no warning, his tongue was all over me. I didn't particularly enjoy it, though I think that had to do with my mood at the time. I was terrified, uncomfortable, angry, embarrassed, and a dozen other things I don't think I realized or had words for in the moment. I placed my arms at my sides, palms flat on the bed. I took the chance to look around his bedroom, making a mental note to do some "exploring" in here next time I was alone. After a few minutes of licking and probing me with his tongue, he seemed satisfied that I was wet enough to get down to business. He quickly moved back over top of me, leaned his weight onto his left elbow while using his right hand to line his cock up with my entrance. Once he had the tip lined up, he slid his left arm under my back and gripped my left shoulder. I could feel that he still had his wedding ring on. I almost made a comment but then thought better of it. He held onto my ass with his right hand and slowly pushed himself in. 

I'll give him credit for being gentle- I really wasn't wet (except at the entrance where he had licked me), and he used small, slow thrusts to work his way in. After about a minute of that, he was fully inside. Once he got to that point, he let out a long breath and put his face in the pillow next to my head. 

"It's been a long time," he whispered. 

"I don't care," I replied blankly. 

He pulled back a little, then pushed in firmly, trying to get deeper. He gave a light gasp that made me think he was almost ready to cum. But he just held still for a moment, then slowly pulled back. He started a slow, gentle motion, thrusting as deeply as he could each time and holding it that way for a few seconds before pulling back. After a few minutes, he lifted his face from the pillow and held it in front of me. Putting his forehead on mine, his eyes closed, he tried to kiss me. I kept my lips closed and turned my head, saying a firm, "No." 

"We're having sex, you need to kiss me." 

"Sex is one thing, kissing is another." 

Still thrusting, he grunted and gasped a few times and then said in a strained voice, "How can you have sex without kissing?" 

Was he serious? Had this guy never had a one night stand? I was no slut, but I had on a few occasions slept with a guy with whom I had no intention of having a long-term relationship. Everyone knows that you save kissing for the really special ones- it's a way to preserve intimacy and to keep a line between sex and love, a line that not everyone gets to cross. 

"Lots of people have sex without kissing," I said, grunting every few words as his thrusts got more intense. "Besides, I never kiss a guy who has just eaten me out, or whatever that was you were trying to do down there. I don't like the taste." 

"Well..ungh..I'll accept that...umf...nng...for now." He began speeding up and breathing hard. I could tell he wasn't trying to draw this out any more than I was. And if it really had been so long since the last time he had been with a woman, I was surprised he had lasted this long. He paused for a moment, catching his breath. "But kissing is an important part of sex for me, and when I haven't licked you, I expect you to be responsive to some kissing." Then he started thrusting again in earnest, wrapping his arms tighter around me and burying his face in my neck. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my collar bone, my ear, behind my ear... 

"Fine...oof...whatever. Just don't expect...ummf...any make-out sessions...mmf...or anything. I'm not...umf...your girlfriend." It was getting hard to talk with his thrusting getting so strong. His right hand was still on my ass and he pulled me towards himself even tighter, pushing harder into me. His kissing stopped, but his teeth rested on my neck- not biting but gently holding, almost threatening me not to pull away. I'm sure he could feel my pulse with his lips. I tilted my head to the side and looked over at the bedside clock. It had been about 15 minutes since I came in the room. 

"Ohh...Oh God...Oh baby...Oh...OH...MMF..AHH!...AHHGH!" And with a strong push, he tried, unsuccessfully, to get deeper inside me. All he accomplished was pushing me harder into the soft bed, which thankfully gave way a little. I spread my legs a little and tilted my hips up towards him, knowing that would make it go deeper. I put my hands on his back, moving them for the first time during this whole encounter. The touch of my hands seemed to set him off a little more, igniting another serious of pleasurable sounds. He jerked and groaned, pulling part way out and thrusting back in a few times. 

Once I could feel that he had finished cumming, his body relaxed on top of mine and he pushed his groin as close to mine as he could. Even though he was resting, he stayed propped up enough on his elbows that he wasn't squishing me. He started nuzzling my neck, rubbing it with his nose and giving me gentle kisses on my collarbone. He exhaled deeply a few times, then started pulling his right hand out from under me. But instead of rolling off, like I expected, he started rubbing my side. He rubbed as far down my thigh as he could reach and then slowly up to my breasts. He gently ran two fingers around my left nipple and then cupped my breasts. They were just a bit bigger than a handful for him, and when he leaned in to kiss them, I said, "Are you finished? I'm not here to play around; I'm just here for sex." 

Still breathing heavily, he answered, "You have some strange ideas about what constitutes sex. No kissing, no afterglow..." 

"Sex is intercourse. I don't want you to get all lovey-dovey on me," I clarified. 

Still rubbing my sides and kissing my breasts, he said calmly but with deep breaths, "I'm not getting lovey-dovey, but sex is so much more than intercourse. And if you want to get technical about it, I'm still inside you, so we're not done." And to make his point, he continued a few gentle thrusts with his slowly softening cock. I hoped he wasn't planning on going again this morning. If he had taken a blue pill or something, so help me... 

I just rolled my eyes and tried to find an appropriate sound to go with it. "Well I hope you don't mind me saying that there are a lot of things I'd like to do today other than have sex with you." 

He propped himself up over me and said with a smirk, "Fine. I'm hungry anyway, and there might be enough time to do grocery shopping before I go to work. Do you want to go to the store with me?" He pulled himself out of me and rolled over to the edge of the bed. 

I rolled the other direction, picked up my robe and headed towards the door. "Don't kid yourself, buddy. This doesn't make me your friend or anything. We're not going to do things together, and I'll probably avoid being around you as much as possible." 

Opening his drawers and pulling out a pair of boxer briefs, he shrugged and said, "I guess that shouldn't surprise me. I just thought you'd like some input on the groceries, since you'll be doing the cooking. You do know how to cook, right?" Funny, he never thought to ask that before. Shows where his priorities are. 

"I can cook well enough," I lied, walking down the hall. I hurried into the bathroom, closed the door, started the shower, and leaned over the toilet. I heard him whistling in his room as I started dry heaving. 

It's just sex. It's just sex. You can do this.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 02



I'd like to say that the first time was the worst and that it got better. I'd like to say I quickly got used to the arrangement and that it didn't bother me. I'd like to say that it was just sex and that I had no problem using my body to secure a place to live and food to eat. 

I'd like to say all that, but it simply wasn't true. 

After my first time having sex with Andrew, I almost called in sick to work- not because I was actually sick (though the dry heaves of revulsion didn't make me feel peachy) but because I felt like I had so much to process. There were a lot of gaps in our arrangement, things we hadn't talked about, and I wanted to get a handle on some of those things before I talked to him about them. 

And he had a different view of "sex" than I did, one that made it hard for me to detach like I wanted to. This was so screwed up, and I wanted to just get to a point where I felt like I could understand it. If I could understand it, maybe I could handle it. 

One good thing about this was that it kicked my job-hunting into high gear. I had to make this as temporary as possible. 

I showered that morning and started realizing how many questions I had. I had breakfast while Andrew was out grocery shopping, then took my hot tea up to my room. I curled up on my recliner, wrapped a blanket around me (it was a chilly morning for late September) and stared out the window. I had a pen and paper on the table beside me to help keep track of my thoughts. By the time I heard Andrew leave for work, I had quite a list of questions...and even a few answers. 

But for now, there was a more pressing task at hand. I opened my computer and searched online for "how to cook." 

******* 

Andrew had left a note telling me that he would be home for the night after 8pm and that I should have some dinner ready for him in the fridge, since I would be at work by then. I looked at the groceries he had bought- quite a selection, some of which I couldn't even identify. When I lived on my own, I mostly ate out, until I realized how quickly that was draining my cash. Then I switched to microwavable meals and instant noodles, which stabilized my budget a bit, even if it didn't make for a healthy lifestyle. What the hell, I was young. 

Andrew had stipulated "cooking" among my duties, however, and given his views on sex, I couldn't imagine that he would consider heating up a TV dinner to be "cooking." So it was time to learn. Until I could pick up some tips from the kitchen crew at the restaurant, I would have to imitate how-to videos that I could find online. Using that technique, I whipped up a respectable tortilla soup (minus the hot peppers). I thought it tasted pretty good. I left the pot in the fridge for Andrew and commenced with my real task for the afternoon: snooping. 

******* 

Looking through all the papers and books and photos I could find on the first floor, I drew just one conclusion: Andrew was a boring guy. There was nothing even remotely interesting lying around. The guy didn't even have any porn videos, at least not downstairs. No letters from family or friends, no scandalous bills or bank statements, no drugs or paraphernalia. I think he really did just work and eat and sleep (and now fuck me). 

But the time wasn't wasted, because in the process of snooping, I managed to organize a lot of the downstairs living area. I knew that is bedroom would probably be a much more interesting place to look, and there was another office-y room upstairs that I hadn't explored, but it was already time for me to get ready for work. The juicy secrets of Andrew's life would have to wait. 

******* 

I came home late and found a note saying that the soup was delicious. It looked like he had eaten half the pot. Damn- I had hoped that would last a few days. My plan was to make bigger meals so that I might only need to cook a couple times a week. 

Remembering my list of questions, I jotted a note that said we needed to talk and clarify a few things. Then I had a small bowl of soup for myself and went to bed. With an afternoon and evening shift ahead of me the next day, I wanted to sleep as much as I could. 

******* 

*Tap, tap tap* 

"Gina? Gina, wake up, it's 10 o'clock." 

What? Why on earth was he waking me up? I didn't need to leave until 11:30, and what business was that of his anyway? 

"Go away, asshole! I'm trying to sleep!" 

A moment of silence, then *tap, tap, tap* 

"Gina, our schedules don't line up for a few more days. I'm going to work at 12, we've got until then to..." 

"Aw, for fuck's sake!" I yelled, throwing off my covers and yanking open my door. I grabbed Andrew by his t-shirt collar, pulled him a few steps into my room, pushed him onto the bed and pulled off his sweatpants with one angry pull. He wasn't hard at all, which surprised me. I guess that I had expected him to be standing at my door naked and throbbing. I took him in my mouth and started sucking...hard. 

At this point I was still in a rage- angry that he had woken me up, angry that he expected sex whenever it was convenient for him, angry that I had no friends in my life to help me out, angry that my parents didn't pursue me, and at some point in all that silent raging, I noticed that Andrew was fully ready to go. He had put one hand on the back of my head- not pressing down but just guiding my movements. 

I briefly considered finishing him with my mouth, but I didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing me swallow, and I sure as hell didn't want to make a mess on my bed (I hadn't really thought this through), so I stood up, pulled off my yoga pants, straddled him, and sank down. Thank God I was a little wet. Andrew wasn't the biggest I had ever had, but he was more than big enough to fill me up. 

I sank down hard and started bouncing. Normally I enjoy a good ride when I'm on top- if the guy is angled right, I can rub my clit on his pubic bone and get myself really close without having to use my hand. I've even cum a few times that way, just by rubbing myself on top of a guy. But I wasn't on the path to satisfaction this morning. I was still almost blind with rage- the accumulated frustration of the path my life had taken was finding its way to the surface. 

I pounded myself down on Andrew again and again. He seemed stunned at first, but he eventually grabbed my hips with his rough hands and just held on while I worked. I leaned forward a little and put my hands on his broad chest. We both still had on our shirts. After a minute or two, I moved my hands to the wall behind my headboard, stopped bouncing, and took him as deep as I could in that position. Then I started rubbing back and forth, not moving him in and out. I felt a slight tingle, but I knew I wasn't going to let this last long enough to get me anywhere good. 

When I started sliding my hips forward and backward, Andrew groaned and lifted his hips up a few inches off the bed. That actually felt better for me, but I didn't think his back could stay arched like that for very long. Then he moved one hand up to my shirt and lifted the side of it up to my armpit, exposing my left breast. He leaned forward (lowering his hips, to my disappointment) and started licking and kissing and sucking my tit. 

I was grunting and groaning and moaning, mostly from the exertion and the emotional release I was experiencing, though anyone listening would probably think I was working towards a nice orgasm. When Andrew took my nipple between his teeth, I yelped and stopped thrusting for a moment. It didn't hurt, it just surprised me, and felt good- like just what I wanted in that moment. 

I wrapped one arm around his head and held him closer to my breast. He kept nibbling and licking and sucking and I started sliding and thrusting again- slower but harder. 

He started to push up in time with my thrusts. Then he pulled his head back, clenched his eyes shut and started grunting. His hands were on my hips now, forcing me to move at his pace. 

Gasping, he asked, "Are you close?" 

"Just finish, asshole!" I was angry that he would think I wanted this, that I would give him that pleasure. And I was angry because I was getting closer than I thought I would. 

In that moment I realize how strong he was. He took complete control of my movements, picking me up by the hips and forcing me down on his cock over and over. He made me slide back and forth at his will. I don't think I could have stopped him if I tried. It was like I was just an elaborate tool used to aid his masturbation. I felt like a total object. 

"OhhOOOOHHHH! GAH!!" He forced me down hard and I felt his cock start to pulse inside me. He held me in place, pulled back a bit and then pushed in again. I leaned forward and steadied myself with a hand on the wall. His upper body convulsed with each pump, and I noticed for the first time how sweaty we both were. 

He slid down so that we could both lie down on the bed, with me still on top of him. One of his hands moved to the back of my head and held me in place while he began kissing me. My first instinct was embarrassment over my morning breath, but then I chided myself for caring what he thought. I remembered that kissing was supposed to be a part of sex in this house, so I let him explore my mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile, his other hand had moved to where my lower back met my ass, and he held me firmly on top of him as he began slowly sliding in and out of me again. Every few thrusts he would hold himself deep inside and focus on kissing. 

Finally, he dropped his hips to the bed, dropped his hands to his sides, leaned his head back on the pillow, and sighed. I could see his mouth starting to move, as if he was starting sentences in his mind but not sure which one to go with. Before he had the chance to get a thought out, I climbed off of him and said, "Get up. I don't want a wet spot on my bed." 

He rolled over and swung his feet to the floor. Standing up and retrieving his pants, he said, "Like I was saying...I'm going to work at 12, so we've only got until then to talk about whatever you mentioned in your note." 

I froze in the middle of putting on my robe. "My note?" Shit! My note that said we needed to discuss some things. My list of questions. "Yeah, sure. My note." 

"But thanks for being so...proactive. That was..." 

"That was my job. Don't thank me for something that I would lose my room over not doing," I snapped. 

His brow creased as he tried to think of how to respond. Instead he changed the topic. 

"I'm going downstairs for breakfast. Do you want coffee? If you want, there's still some time to talk before we leave." 

"Yeah, I'll be down in a few minutes," I mumbled and staggered down the hall to the bathroom, one hand on the wall for support. 

******* 

It took me all of two minutes in the shower to bring myself to a small but sufficient climax. By 10:45 I was showered, dressed, and having breakfast at the table. Across the table, Andrew sipped his coffee and finished off a pile of toast. 

"So you wanted to clarify some things?" he began. 

"Yeah," I said, munching on a blueberry bagel. "I've been realizing that there are some things we didn't clarify and some things we didn't even consider." 

"OK, like what?" 

"Well, first of all, are you telling anyone about our...arrangement?" 

He froze, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth, and looked at me with eyes wide open. "Oh, hell no. I don't think...I mean, what would...how...no. Not that anyone is asking much about my personal life, but if it comes up, you are renting a room from me." 

Whew. "Glad we're on the same page there. Now what about visitors?" 

"I never have any." 

"Not you, you myopic self-centered child. Me. I'm going to have friends over at some point." 

"Oh, of course. Um, just try not to be loud if I'm sleeping, and don't bring anyone over that might, you know, steal something or cause problems." 

I found that insulting and snapped at him, "What kind of people do you think I hang out with?" 

Mouth full of toast, he answered casually, "Hell if I know. I don't know anything about you." 

He had a point, but still..."I don't like what you're implying." 

He just shrugged. I rolled my eyes and gave an exaggerated sighed. 

"OK, next thing. I'll consent to including kissing and rubbing in our definition of sex, but no touching me when we're not having sex. You don't get to come up and give me kisses or grab my ass or squeeze my boobs or even rub my arm. My body is mine. You get access to it 3-4 times a week and that's it. Understand?" 

"Of course. You're not my girlfriend, I get that. I didn't expect anything different." 

"And on a similar note, my room is my private space. You have no reason to go in there uninvited." 

"Agreed, and I would say the same about my room." 

"You don't want me to clean your room?" 

He thought about that for a few seconds. "OK, for getting laundry and cleaning the master bathroom you can go in my room, but leave the rest of it to me. I like that you're organizing things a bit, but leave my room alone." 

"Fine," I said, fully intending not to honor that. 

"Unless you're coming in my room to have sex with me, then you're welcome anytime I'm in there," he said, smiling. 

"Ugh. Moving on, no sleeping in my bed and no making me sleep in yours. Again, you use my body for sex, but once that's over, I'm free to go." 

"Yeah, that's fine. But know that you'd be welcome to stay in my bed. I really like snuggling with someone at night." 

"I am not, and never will be that person for you, Andrew. Don't start thinking of me in those categories." 

"What categories? I'm still just talking about two bodies here- nothing more than physical intimacy." 

"Physical release. Not intimacy. We are not intimate." 

"Uh, sure. OK." I don't think he really agreed, I think he just decided not to pursue that topic. 

We talked through a few more details, like paying for my birth control pills and bringing my car in for a check-up (he was horrified to hear how long it had been since my last oil change), but then he got a serious look. "Gina, there's one more thing." 

"Oh?" 

"Stop calling me names, please." 

"What do you mean?" 

"You've got quite a list of insulting monikers for me. 'Asshole' seems to be your favorite. 'Creep', 'perv', 'moron'...it's mean and uncalled for. Please just use my name." 

I got a little worked up at that, "Uncalled for? You're making me..." 

"NO! I'm not making you do anything." He stood up and pointed at me with his fork. This was the most agitated I'd seen him (with all his clothes on). "You were free to choose this, you came into it knowing full well what it entailed. This is not against your will. You will not pin this on me. You can think what you like about my offer, but once you accepted it, you gave up the right to drag me through the mud." 

I was ready to jump up and shout right back at him, but...he...was right. I clenched my jaw and simply said, "Fine. No more names. But don't you start calling me 'baby' or 'sweetie'." 

He dropped his fork and plate into the sink, guzzled his orange juice, and said in a softer, more familiar tone, "Thank you. Was there anything else?" 

"No, I think that's about it for now. I'll see you in a few days." I stood to leave for work as he walked up the stairs to get changed. 

******* 

As I drove through the neighborhood, I considered that he had a point. I didn't have any good reason for calling him names. I just needed to feel superior. And the anger that surfaced during that grudge fuck that morning made me realize that my resentment was spread all around. The Creep...Andrew, just happened to be an easy target. I couldn't be angry at him for my being in this situation. I was angry at the circumstances that brought me to that point. 

But unfortunately for Andrew, it was one thing for me to know all that. It was another thing entirely for that knowledge to change me. So for now, I was just going to keep hating him. I wanted to think of him as my rapist. I wanted to think of him as someone fully to blame for how royally screwed up my life was, how screwed up I was. But he called me out- I couldn't blame him without blaming myself. I felt ashamed. I felt sick.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 03



Our work schedules conflicted to the extent that we would barely be in the house at the same time again until late Thursday- technically early Friday. I kept the house clean, learned another couple recipes (I privately laughed at how Andrew thought I was a very experienced cook), and even went out with some coworkers for drinks on Thursday. 

I think they were shocked when I took them up on the offer, since I had turned them down every time in the past. But now with rent, gas, and food covered, I had a little flexibility in my budget. Though I'm usually a stay-at-home type of person, I really needed a night out. And I think I craved some casual human contact. 

It felt awkward at first. I thought Steve was flirting with me, and I barely knew how to respond. My life was a little more complicated than the last time I'd been out. Just the same, I tried to flirt back but without moving things forward just yet. I also deftly handled questions about my new living arrangements and how I suddenly had the funds to go out for fun. I had forgotten that Steve had met Andrew, so there was no hiding the basics. I told them I was renting a room but that housework and cooking covered some of my expenses there. I didn't feel the need to tell them what covered the rest of my expenses. 

After a few hours of unwinding and starting to feel normal again, I was too drunk to drive. I was glad to see that a bus was still running at midnight. Leaving my car at the restaurant, I took the bus back to the house. It took much longer than driving, but none of us had been sober enough to be behind the wheel, and a taxi was not in my budget yet. So it was almost 2am when I stumbled in the door. 

I pissed like a champ, then hit the fridge for a late night meal. I was off the next day and I wasn't ready to sleep. I pulled out a beer to go with my proudly homemade Chicken Kiev and sat down to watch another old comedy movie that was left in the DVD player. It was so nice to laugh and eat and not worry. 

Halfway through the movie, Andrew got home. It was one of his double-shift days- 8 to 4 at the body shop and 6 to 2 at...wherever he worked at night. He went straight for the fridge, put together the same beer and chicken combo I had just finished, and sat down on the other side of the couch, handing me another beer. He smiled and laughed through the movie, finished his dinner, and took both our plates to the kitchen. He came back just as the credits were starting to roll. 

I was stretching on the couch, and Andrew stood there, staring at me. I'm sure my chest looked nice as my back arched and my arms spread out. He knelt down next to me and started kissing my exposed stomach. 

Shit. I had forgotten about that. "Andrew, I'm pretty tired." 

"It's been over two days, Gina, that's the max." 

I rolled my eyes, "Fine." 

He quickly unbuttoned my jeans and slid his hand under my panties. With three fingers, he started rubbing my lips- slowly, gently, with long strokes. Then he slipped his middle finger inside me, gently working it in until he could do full strokes. All the while he was kissing me. 

Oh, what the hell, I thought. I was still buzzed from the evening and a little turned on from flirting with Steve. I started kissing back. No reason I can't get some enjoyment out of this, right? 

That just kicked him into high gear. I don't know how he had the energy after a 16 hour work day, but his hands started pulling off clothes- my pants, his shirt, my panties, his pants. All the while, he was still going after my mouth with his tongue. I was still lying down on the couch and he was still sometimes kneeling, sometimes leaning next to me. 

Once our clothes were off, he resumed fingering me. I spread my legs to give him better access. I was sleepy and buzzed enough to not care that he might get me off. I was starting to feel warmer and I was squirming on the couch. I was in that state where my arms and breasts and legs just needed to be touched- I needed skin. 

I reached over to Andrew and pulled him onto the couch. He settled on top of me and lined up his cock with my entrance. At this point, I was so ready that my hips were pushing at him, trying to get him inside me. I was making small, squeaky moans of frustration, sensing his tip right on my outer lips but not able to get him lodged inside. I think he may have even pulled back a bit just to tease me. With both hands I grabbed his ass, which was nice and firm, and I pulled him into me. 

I moaned my satisfaction and slid my arms up his back. I rubbed my legs up and down his thighs, moving them as if I was climbing a ladder. My arms slid all over his back and sides. I pushed my breasts up to to his chest and wiggled around. Skin. I needed to feel skin. I needed to be touched. I needed skin as deep inside me as it could get. I wanted skin all over me, everywhere. I shifted so he could get his hands around me- touching my back, my ass, my neck. Still kissing. Face skin rubbing. Foot skin touching. 

Thrusting deep. Breathing deep. Moaning into his mouth. Tongues greeting each other, welcoming each other. Arching my back so my stomach could rub his abs. Skin on chest. Arm skin rubbing. Hearing him gasp. Hearing myself gasp and cry out. 

Timeless thrusting and rubbing. Stretching out my legs and wrapping them around his. Nowhere to roll, nowhere to move. Pushing up, writhing. 

He reached to the floor and grabbed a small pillow. Slipping a hand under my butt, he lifted me up, pulling me into him, and slid the pillow under me. Now my hips were angled just right. He pulled himself forward a little until my face was in his chest. But oooh, boy! My clit was getting some good pressure. He stopped pulling out to thrust and just grinded himself into me. Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh...oh...OH!! Shhhhhhit oh jeez! I grab his ass and help grind. Hand on breast, rubbing, gentle twisting, rubbing again. Heavy breathing above my ear. Hand skin rubbing down my side, cradling my hips, rubbing my... 

Ohhhhhh...I...God, I...UNGH! 

I clenched my eyes shut, curled my toes and came, my head convulsing forward into his solid chest. He held still, continuing to press himself firmly inside me...sooo deep. My walls pulsed around him and my legs tried to squeeze together. He moaned and whispered "Yes...yes..." 

At some point, he slid down a little so that our faces were even again. He placed his lips on mine and I did not refuse him entry. Gentle kissing and caressing while aftershocks continue. Occasional squeezing of his still firmly planted cock. Moments of shivering, chills, goosebumps. He could reach my breast with his mouth and began kissing and licking. I started thrusting up and grinding again, just because. 

He reached down to my knees and pulled them up, one at a time locking his elbows under them. Folding my legs as far as he could get them, he resumed thrusting. This position always feels so much deeper, and the affect hit him quickly. He started a frenzied thrusting and grinding combination. I was so wiped out from my orgasm, that I did nothing to help. Once again, I mostly felt like a passive receptacle, just a prop in his sexual act. 

He would thrust a few times and then grind himself deep inside me. He was groaning and moaning, and clearly enjoying himself. He tried to reach down and kiss me, but with my legs folded up, it wasn't easy. His arms still locked behind my knees, he had easy access to my breasts. He started to rub them, but I think he was so close that he all he could manage was to hold on to them. It was during one of those grinding motions that he gave a shout and started cumming. He couldn't get it any deeper, but he tried. His hands went into action again, trying to grab something- thighs, ass, shoulders- something to give more leverage, to pull my body closer, to get him in deeper. 

And then he was done. He used his hands to crawl back and straighten his back so that he was kneeling on the other end of the couch. He slumped back and that's about all I remember. 

I woke up a few hours later, still naked, still on the couch, with a pillow under my head and a blanket over me. The sun was coming up, and I could hear Andrew upstairs whistling in the shower, getting ready to head to work at 8. How did he work so much and sleep so little? I didn't care, I was just glad I didn't need to. I wrapped the blanket around myself as I stood up. I walked quietly up the stairs, slipped into bed, and fell soundly asleep until almost lunch time. 

******* 

I woke up mildly hungover and wanting only to bury myself under the covers forever. I felt sick and scared and embarrassed and confused and I wanted it all to go away. I closed my eyes and nursed some memories of my former life- I thought about middle school and family vacations and innocence and safety until the urge to pee was so strong that I had to leave my cocoon. 

I was so so SO glad that Andrew was at work this morning. I just didn't want to deal with him. I couldn't make it through a lunch of leftovers without stopping to cry. You just need to pull yourself together. It's just sex, it's totally worth it. You're in control here. I think that last thought is what bothered me the most. As long as could detach myself and make sex something business-like and impersonal, then I was in control. What scared me so much about last night was that I didn't detach, I didn't distance myself from the moment, it wasn't impersonal. It wasn't just that I came, it was that I wanted to fuck him last night. Not at first, I didn't, but once we got started, I really, really wanted it. I didn't want him, thank God, but I wanted it, the sex, the fucking, the touching, the thrusting...shit, I had to stop thinking about it. 

The best way to switch mental gears was to set about my task for the day. I was going to "clean" Andrews's room. To my credit, it had taken me almost a week to totally violate his privacy. I was going to clean his bathroom, change his sheets, and see what interesting things I could find. 

I felt like I was finally thinking more clearly- I had the foresight to do a lot of quick cleaning right away so that if he saw me in there, it would be obvious that I had been working. I hate cleaning bathrooms, so I put some music on his bedroom stereo, brought some fragrance candles in from my room, and set to work. After 45 minutes, it was looking...better. Sheets were in the wash, dirty clothes picked up...there was no question that I had been in there. 

I started looking through drawers. 

Nothing hidden in his top drawers. I think I had expected the cliché stash of either drugs, porn, or women's underwear. But it was just a sock drawer with...socks. All his other drawers were the same. His night stand had odds and ends inside, but nothing incriminating. 

His closet was more promising. Piled high with cardboard boxes and plastic bins, it served as a storage area. I glanced at the clock- 3:05. I started pulling out boxes, one by one, and peeking inside. Off-season clothes...sports equipment that hadn't been used in a while...then- bingo! Pictures, memorabilia, concert ticket stubs, souvenirs...wedding album. 

******* 

I knew this was what I was looking for, but I paused just the same. For some reason this felt like the next level of violation. I flipped to the first page. She was pretty. Tall, slender, not very chesty, blonde, big smile. They made a great couple. I had never seen him smile like that. Flipping through these photos, I began to realize how much of a darkness was over the Andrew I knew. 

Friends, family, laughter- everything you want to see in a wedding album. And on the last page were ticket stubs for their flight to...Cancun. That was 6 years ago. Her name was Penny. 

Then there were brown bags with stacks of pictures in them- unorganized but easily grouped. Fun times, road trips, parties. Then a picture of my room, freshly painted and decorated, with a baby bassinet. She was very pregnant and glowing. I wanted to be her friend. 

Pictures of a baby girl, time-stamped 4 years earlier. A happy family. Drew holding his newborn daughter, beaming. The three of them on the steps outside the house, home from the hospital? 

O God, why was I crying? 

I jumped when I heard my phone buzz- a text. I was glad for the distraction. 

Are you home? From Andrew 

I'm at the house. Damn if I'm going to call this place home. 

I heard my phone buzz his reply, but I felt no urgency to check it. Noticing that it was close to 4, I started putting the boxes back in the closet, hoping he didn't have some meticulous system and would notice that they had been moved. Judging from the rest of the house, I doubted he was that organized. I finished putting the closet back together and glanced around to make sure I hadn't left a trace of my explorations. When I was finished, I picked up my phone to see what he wanted. Probably dinner, since he would be home from 4-6 today. Thankfully, I had something ready to be heated up. 

Good, I'll be there in 5 minutes. Be in my room, naked. Five minutes? Just then, I heard the front door open and then slam shut. He ran up the stairs. Not thinking clearly enough to protest, I shucked my pants and was just lifting my shirt up when he stormed in the room. His shoes and overalls were on the floor at the door and he stepped out of them as he rushed towards me. 

Firmly pushing me onto my back on his bed, he finished pulling off my shirt, stepped out of his briefs, crawled onto the bed and positioned himself between my legs. 

I actually felt a little scared- he was snorting and panting in a fury- something had gotten him all worked up. He reached down and felt my hole- I was still dry. He growled in frustration, ran to the bathroom, yanked open a drawer and started rifling through it. 

Meanwhile, I rearranged the pillows and looked around one more time to make sure I hadn't left any evidence of my snooping. His sheets were still in the laundry, but I had enough time to spread his comforter across the mattress. Frankly, I was too scared to say anything to him. 

He ran back to the bed, one hand holding a bottle of lube and the other rubbing his very pronounced dick. He was jutting straight out and his dick was bouncing in time with his pulse. He put the lube on the nightstand, wiped his hand on the first article of clothing he could grab (my shirt, dammit!) and climbed back on top of me. 

He didn't even use his hands to line himself up- he just got on top of me, used his knees to spread my legs, wiggled his hips until he felt his tip catch in my lips, and pushed. The first push slipped right up my lips and past my clit. He growled again, reached down to work the tip in enough to be set, and then thrust hard. One big thrust was all he needed to get fully seated inside me. 

I was trying to go unnoticed in this whole process, but when he thrust in, I couldn't help but shout, "AAARGH! Easy!" 

"Sorry," he grunted, but started thrusting hard nevertheless. He reached both hands under my ass, cupping my cheeks and using that leverage to push hard and fast. Because he wasn't supporting his weight with his arms, I felt for the first time his full upper body weight on top of me. I tried to work my hands in between us and put my palms on his chest. I pushed him up a bit, just to keep from feeling suffocated. He didn't seem to notice anything. 

With every thrust he grunted and growled. Mercifully, it only lasted a minute or two. His grunts got higher and higher pitched and he even gave a few whines before speeding up and then holding deep. 

No surprise, when he came he roared. That asshole roared right in my ear, too. I tried pushing up on his chest and turning my head away. It didn't phase him. A few more jerky thrusts and he finished cumming inside me. 

He rolled off and panted. No "afterglow" this time, I guess. I lay there staring at the ceiling. 

In between gasps, he tried to explain. "There was this customer today...(pant, pant)...she wanted to negotiate the price of her repair...(pant, pant, pant)...dressed real slutty, came on to me...(pant, pant). I've seen her type before. Leads you on and then leaves you hanging. (Deep breaths) I've seen guys fall for it, give ridiculous discounts and then try to score a date. I didn't believe her, but she kept trying and trying. Showed more and more skin, talked dirty. I called her bluff, invited her into my private office. She got pissed and just gave me her credit card." At this point he was almost laughing. "She shouted some crude accusations about my sexual preference and my potency while I rang her up. Anyways, that was right before my shift ended. She had me so worked up.." 

I don't think he noticed I was crying until I started talking. I'm not sure when I even noticed that I was crying. I did that stupid thing where you try to talk like you aren't crying, and it just sounds pathetic. "Don't bother telling me why you fuck me. Just do what you have to so that I can keep up my side of the arrangement." I rolled off the bed and picked up my clothes from around the room. 

He sat up and his voice got soft and apologetic. "Gina, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt..." 

Stepping out of the room, I turned and spat back, "Don't flatter yourself that this has anything to do with you." I knew it had almost everything to do with him, but I didn't want to concede that much importance to him. Being naked didn't bother me as much as feeling naked. 

******* 

I got dressed, went downstairs and put the casserole in the oven. While it cooked, I worked on the laundry and dishes. I heard Andrew in the shower. When dinner was done, I put some on a plate for myself and took it up to my room. I opened my computer and started job-hunting, expanding my search to other cities. Fuck this. 

I got a call from Moira, another waitress, begging me to cover her shift that night. Her boyfriend from out of town surprised her today, going away for the weekend, she'd cover two shifts for me later, blah, blah, blah. I told her I'd be happy to cover for her. I got dressed while I finished eating, and I headed downstairs, only to realize that my car was still at the restaurant after I went drinking last night. Shit! There was no way the bus would get me there in time. 

I closed my eyes and growled in frustration. Turning towards the stairs, I trudged up to Andrew's room. He was just pulling on a clean shirt and fishing keys out of his overalls, which were still in a messy pile at the doorway. 

"I picked up a shift at work. Can you drive me into town?" I was trying to pretend like there was nothing awkward about talking to him right now. 

"Is your car OK?," he asked, not in a sassy way but with genuine concern. Playing along with my show. 

"It's fine, it's just...at the restaurant. I was drinking with my coworkers last night, and..." 

"Oh...OH." It seemed like my behavior last night made more sense to him now. "Sure, I've got to be at work by 6- what time do you need to be at the restaurant." 

"The sooner the better." 

"OK. Is dinner something I can take with me?" he asked, pulling on his pants. 

I rolled my eyes and walked away, "yeah, I'll put something in a box for you." 

******* 

I got his dinner together just as he walked down. We left together and drove the most awkwardly silent trip into town that anyone has ever had. 

"Thanks," I said, when we got to the restaurant. 

"No problem," he said softly, and drove away. 

I felt very self-conscious as I walked in, wondering it anyone could tell that the man who had just dropped me off at work had also fucked me twice since I left work yesterday evening. I knew that it was a ridiculous concern, but I just felt so...exposed. I felt...sick.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 04



So that was how the first week of our arrangement went. There were a lot of tears, but thankfully Andrew didn't see most of them. There was a lot of anger and frustration. There were a few awkward conversations, and I made some personal discoveries about my live-in landlord. The house looked better, I was learning to cook, and I let a total stranger screw me 4 times. 

The next few weeks followed a similar pace. We had sex 3-4 times a week, whenever our schedules allowed. The sex was very vanilla and forgettable. We seldom talked. Job-hunting came up empty. My hate for him gave way to contempt, but I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that even that was misdirected. Maybe it was self-loathing looking for a different target, I don't know. I just know that my emotions were a potent mixed cocktail that month, and even little sips could get me disoriented. 

I did some searches online for death records or news articles that might fill in more of the story that Andrew wasn't telling me. What happened to Penny and their baby girl? There were a lot of possibilities, and most of them made Andrew either scary or tragic. I told myself that it was in my best interest to know. If Penny had been murdered and buried in the back yard, then I had a vested interest in knowing that. 

My lack of success at learning anything only heightened my suspicions. Did anyone even know she was gone? Had I stepped into some deep shit? It took a twisted mind to come up with the arrangement Andrew and I had, what else was that twisted mind capable of? I even considered writing a letter to give to someone, "in case I go missing." 

******* 

It was a Sunday night, about a month after I had moved in. I had picked up a few extra shifts over the weekend (that Moira and her boyfriend!), so I hadn't seen Andrew since Friday morning, when we had a quickie before he left for work. As I was in the parking lot, heading to my car, I got a text from him. Come to my room when you get home. Ugh. It was almost midnight at the end of a full weekend of work and I just wanted to crash. 

I didn't reply. Maybe he would be asleep by the time I got back. Unlikely, but...a girl can hope. 

About 3 or 4 minutes before I got to the house, I got another text from him. It's been more than two days. 

Damn that stupid clause. At the next red light, I texted back, We're both off in the morning, can't it wait? 

Before the light even changed, I got the reply, No. I want you now. Sometimes I entertained myself by imagining him saying all his text messages in the voice of a whiny child. It was really good for a laugh this time... 

I pulled into the driveway, grabbed a banana to stop my stomach from complaining, walked up to my room in no hurry and dropped off my purse. I ate the banana while I took off my clothes and then wished I had grabbed something more to eat. Figuring I could eat after sex, I put on my robe and walked down the hall. I inched open the door, hoping to find him asleep. No such luck. He was lying on his back, arms behind his head. The sheet was pulled up over him, and I could see a rise where his cock was. He was staring at the ceiling and barely acknowledged my presence. 

I walked to the side of the bed he was on, tossed my robe on a chair, and straddled him. He used his hand to guide me off of him and onto the bed. "Let's spoon," he said softly. 

"Whatever floats your boat," I said, as disinterestedly as I could. I shifted around so that my back was to him. In that position, I could see the bottle of lube on the nightstand. At least he was thinking ahead. 

Instead of going straight for entry, he curled up behind me and started rubbing my body. He touched me all over, from neck to knees, and began kissing behind my ears and on the back of my neck. 

I stared ahead and said, "Hey, we talked about this. No make-outs, just sex." 

"This is sex," he whispered, not missing a beat. Still rubbing all over me, he said, "Foreplay is part of sex. Not even you can argue against that." 

"Whatever," I mumbled. I was too sleepy to argue, not that I had anything to counter with. "Just hurry up. It's been a long weekend and I'm tired." 

"Sure thing," he said softly. Pausing the body rub for a moment, he reached his hand down cover my vaginal lips. He curled one finger into my opening. It went in without much resistance. Then a second finger joined in. His two thick fingers slowly moved in and out, around in circles, then curled up a little, rubbing a sensitive spot behind my pubic bone. I wanted to move my hips along with his finger-fucking, but I resisted. No sense encouraging him. But I couldn't hide a sharp intake of air when I touched me just right. 

After a minute or two of prepping me with his fingers, he slid his body up against mine, spooning completely. He lifted up my left leg and I held it in place while he guided his cock to my entrance. His fingers kept him on track as he started thrusting into me. 

Once he was able to sink all the way in, he let out a big sigh and started rubbing me again. He didn't start thrusting just yet, which I found frustrating on two levels- I wanted him to finish so I could go to bed, but I also was enjoying the feelings of him inside me. This was our first time spooning, and I've always loved cuddling into a whole body behind mine, touching the back of my body all the way from feet to neck. The only downside is that my front feels exposed and empty. I don't really like rubbing my own body during sex, I prefer having someone else do that for me. Unfortunately, most times I've spooned, the guy was holding my hips to make the thrusting work better- basically doggie style but lying down. 

Andrew, however, slipped his arm under my neck, and then worked me up onto it so that he could wrap his lower arm all the way around my chest. His other arm did the same thing, and I felt completely embraced. He used that grip to leverage his thrusts. I could feel his hot, even breathing on the back of my head. 

After 5 or 6 minutes of slow, lazy thrusting, he moved one of his hands down to where our bodies were joined. Two finger began long strokes across my clit. I think I could have let him get me off, but I was stubborn. Instead, I squeezed my PC's and pushed back against him. That got an instant reaction. 

"whoah!...oh...oh...wow that's good!" he said softly. I think he was as sleepy as I was. The increased tightness and the depth my pushing added made him a bit more aggressive. As his thrusts sped up, his hand moved from my clit to my hipbone. One arm was still covering my breasts and pulling my upper body against his, and his other arm was now draped across my stomach and onto my hips. He used that arm to pull me against his crotch, sinking his cock as far into me as he could. 

I could tell from his speed and from his gasping that he was close. I started rhythmically squeezing his cock, tight for a few seconds, loose for a few seconds. About 30 seconds of that and he was done for. 

Ohhh! GinnnaaaAGH! Ahhhgh! He pulsed inside me a few times and just lay still, arms around me. 

We both lay there for a couple minutes. The clock read 12:55 a.m. I felt his tool softening, but he still pressed it into me, pulling my body into that full embrace. If he didn't pull out by 1 a.m., I would get up, pleading the need to use the toilet. I lay there silently, listening to his breathing as it returned to normal. He would occasionally rub my side very slowly and gently. Just another couple minutes... 

******* 

I woke up to the sound of the toilet flushing. Andrew was walking back to the bed, still naked, still half-hard. I was a bit disoriented- the light wasn't on, why did my eyes hurt? Then I saw that there was light escaping through the curtains- sunlight. 

My mind was still catching up to my observations, and my body was even further behind the curve. I knew I should be jumping up out of the bed and getting to my room, but my body wasn't responding. It wanted to stay under the covers. 

Andrew crawled back in bed, but instead of lying next to me, he climbed right on top. 

"Aw, hell no!" I tried to say, but I think it came out as an incoherent mumble. I didn't even respond fast enough to close my legs. I was mostly trying to shield my eyes from the light. 

I felt a finger, but after a couple seconds it was replaced with Andrew's now fully-hard cock. I guess I was wet enough for business. He pushed in with a few slow, steady thrusts. One hand holding my ass cheeks, one hand around my back and gripping my shoulder, he started a slow rhythm. 

"Andrew," I mumbled. He grunted. 

"Andrew," I said, more coherently and more awake. "I need to pee. You have to let me up." 

He sighed and backed up, pulling out. 

I hobbled to the bathroom and relieved my long-denied bladder. When I got back to the bed, Andrew was in the exact position I had left him in, leaning on his right elbow, left arm holding up the sheet. I slipped back under him and winced as he thrust back inside me. I wasn't as wet as I had been a minute ago. 

But that suited Andrew just fine. The lack of lube made my passage tighter, and he noted the tightness with appreciation. I was hoping he just wanted a morning quickie, but after almost 10 minutes of missionary sex, he rolled us over so that I was on top. I was in no mood to cooperate, but I had to get this over with. I writhed on top of him and even produced a few fake moans and gasps- whatever might speed things up. I tried to straighten up so I could ride him without looking at him, but he gripped me tight around the back with his arms and thrust up into me. 

He loosened his grip a little, but only so that he could start running his hands all up and down my back. Squeezing my ass, guiding my hips, rubbing my thighs. One hand worked its way around to my breasts while the other continued trying to cover every exposed part of my back. He started rubbing around my nipples with his fingers and then took the other breast in his mouth. The combined assault on both breasts was hard to ignore. I started moving faster and pressing harder. 

With no warning, his hands grabbed my ass and started rubbing me hard against him. He pushed up into me a few times, pressing deep, holding a second and relaxing. Then with a prolonged moan, he started cumming. As soon as he started spraying into me, his hands reached up to my shoulders and pulled my whole body down on him. His heels dug into the bed as he thrust one last time and held it there. He shuddered a few times as he came down from his peak, then his hands flopped to his sides on the bed and his legs straightened out. 

Not wasting any time, I dismounted and looked for the robe I had tossed somewhere last night. I wordlessly shuffled over to the bathroom to start my day. 

******* 

"You're not supposed to make me sleep in your bed, that was part of the arrangement," I said with a semi-annoyed tone. I knew he hadn't made me do it, but I didn't want him thinking I was fine with it. 

"I didn't make you do anything," he said confidently. I rolled my eyes and looked away. 

We were sitting at the table, sharing toaster-ready waffles for breakfast. He stood up to get more coffee. "Want some?" he asked, holding up the pot. 

"No thanks," I lied. I would wait a minute and then get it for myself. "Anyway, if that's the wake-up I can expect when I sleep in your bed, you can be damn sure that next time I'm bringing my phone and setting the alarm to make sure I don't spend the night." 

"Suit yourself," he said, unperturbed. "But you shouldn't be surprised. A guy wakes up with a beautiful woman naked in his bed, and nature takes its course." That was the first time he had called me beautiful. I ignored it. 

"Yeah, well don't let nature take its course too much, or you'll use up your fuck sessions before the week is over," I warned him. 

"Use up? What are you talking about? There's no weekly limit or anything." 

I opened my mouth to retort, but was left with my mouth gaping and my heart sinking. Shit, how had I never noticed that before? There were boundaries for the minimum- at least 3 times a week, never more than 2 days without- but nothing about maximum. Under our agreement, he could screw me 3 times a day, 7 days a week and I couldn't object. 

He noticed my shock and just laughed. "I guess you'll want to talk about that later. Go ahead, take some time to think about it. We can talk when you're ready." He went back to sipping his coffee and spreading butter on another waffle. 

"You're not planning to have me in bed all morning today, are you?" I hesitantly asked with a mix of worry and disgust. I got up to refill my coffee. 

He smiled and gave one silent laugh as he bit into his waffle. "Believe me, Gina. I would love to spend the next 3 hours before I go to work doing nothing but enjoying your body and seeing if I can't get you to enjoy it a little, too. But since I know that would put me even further outside your good graces, and since you seem to need to process some new information, I'll have to be content with what happened before breakfast." 

Well that was a relief, I thought as I sat back down. 

"No promises about this evening, though." 

I gave him an acidic look and stood up to leave. "I might have plans for the evening," I said, defiantly. I was at least going to spend my morning out, following up on some job applications and rewarding myself for surviving a month of this by getting my hair done. Taking my mug upstairs, I got dressed and shoved things in my bag. I angrily grumbled to myself, "No guarantees about tonight? I'd say there's no guarantee I'll even be around this week! What if I'm busy? What if...what if I have a date? What if my work schedule changes? Yeah, there are no guarantees at all!" 

I was all set to storm out of the house when I heard the clanking of dishes being put in the sink and the thump of feet on the stairs. I paused in my room with my hand on the doorknob. Not having to see him at all was better than storming out in a showy way. Once I heard the door to his room close, I slipped out and walked softly down the stairs. 

******* 

"And then he said that household duties included sex! Can you believe that? He wanted her to cook, clean, and screw in exchange for a room in his house." 

I hadn't really been listening, but over the sound of scissors and the inane chatter of my own stylist, that sentence tuned me in to the conversation across the room. My heart sank. Did they...? 

"What did she do?" 

"Oh, she said no, of course. She said, 'Honey, you want a wife, and I ain't her!' And then she just hung up on him. I mean, of all the things! 'Household duties.' my word!" It was a middle-aged woman getting highlights and talking to her own stylist, who was fully caught up in the story. 

I broke protocol a bit and spoke across the room, "Are you for real? Where was this, New York?" I faked a chuckle. My stylist turned my head back into position, "Hold still, honey," she said gently. 

"Oh no, dear. This was right here. She told me herself." 

"Who did?" 

"A girl at my office a few months ago. She was doing temp work. Said it happened early this year. Just shows you never know what kind of weirdos are online. That's why I won't do any of that internet dating stuff." 

"Was he at least cute? I mean, as long as the guy isn't some dirty old man..." I tried to joke about it, and I wanted to see if it was really Andrew. Not that there was much doubt. Plus, if someone else knew that he had made this offer and then found out I was living with him, it wouldn't be hard to put the pieces together. 

"She never saw him, everything was over the phone." 

"Smart girl," said the stylist. 

"I know," said the lady. "Besides, he was probably ugly as sin and couldn't find a girl of his own. Shoulda tried a Russian mail order bride!" she said, starting to laugh before she finished her joke. 

For some reason, I just wanted to feel affirmed. "Well, I suppose if a girl is in a tight spot and if she meets him and he's not an ogre, then maybe it's a livable arrangement...?" 

Awkward silence. Then the middle aged lady said, "I just can't imagine. I just can't imagine." 

My stylist piped in, "It really is just a marriage without the legal trappings." 

"A marriage without love," I countered. 

That got a laugh all around. "You ain't been married, have you honey?," joked another older woman, waiting for her turn in the chair. 

"Tell her!" laughed my stylist. 

The lady who had started it all said, "It's true. My marriage got to be just that- watching the kids, cooking, cleaning, and sex. And I think I could have cut out the first three and still kept him happy!" 

"Yeah, but in a marriage, at least you can say no to sex," offered the other stylist. "Sounds like this guy would have been like, put out or move out, honey." 

The customer across from me agreed, "Well, that was my ex, except he was more like, put out or I'll move out! That's what 'irreconcilable differences' really means." And that led into a discussion of ex husbands and dating and other things I wasn't as interested in. I got to thinking. 

You want a wife...It really is just a marriage... 

I looked down at the magazine I was reading- I had picked up a cooking magazine to get some ideas for recipes. What the hell am I turning into?, I thought. I was just being his surrogate wife. It was an unofficial, loveless marriage. I was the wife who kept the house clean, kept my man fed, worked part time, and spread my legs when he wanted. 

In a marriage, at least you can say 'no' to sex. I had never really said no to Andrew. I was obligated to say yes at least three times a week, and he seldom asked more. In light of this morning's revelation, I realized that I needed to set some more boundaries. I wasn't just his dutiful wife who would always indulge his lusts. This was business, and I was being taken advantage of. 

"...honey?" Oops, someone was talking to me. "I'm sorry, what?" 

My stylist had stopped, "What do you think, honey?" She was finished. 

"Yeah, it's great, thanks." I didn't even look more than a glance. She gave me some instructions on how to keep it looking good (though who really bothers with that stuff after a few days?) and I was on my way. I had a lot to think about. 

In marriage...you can say 'no.' I gripped the steering wheel and held back tears. What would he do if I said 'no'? He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, but he didn't really compromise on the sex thing. You can say no. I felt sick.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 05



I stopped by a few places in town and tried to check on my job possibilities. I was hopeful about one place that actually seemed to have looked at and processed my application. They said they'd be calling people for interviews in a few days. I had heard that before and got nothing, but this one sounded a little less...dismissive. 

After picking up my prescription (and saving the receipt so Andrew would reimburse me), I headed to the house. Because I had worked all weekend, I had a full afternoon of cleaning and cooking ahead of me. Trying a new recipe I had seen in the magazine suddenly seemed a lot less exciting than it did before my conversation at the hair salon. 

While I cleaned and cooked, I debated with Andrew in my head. He had to agree to a weekly maximum, and maybe even a daily max. More and more this was feeling like something that needed a multi-page contract defining terms. What constitutes a day? A week? Does a day begin at midnight, dawn, or when one or both of us wakes up? Lots of similar questions came to mind. I tried to imagine a lawyer drawing up the papers: "And so we agree that oral sex to completion constitutes a qualifying sexual act unless more than half of the qualifying sexual acts in the past 7 day period have been of an oral nature. Now, according to section 4, clause 3..." I actually laughed at that thought while I was stirring something on the stove, and I was still laughing when Andrew walked in the door. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Nothing that concerns you," I said, souring. 

"I just don't see you laugh much. You have such a pretty smile," he said, taking off his shoes. I had convinced him that dirty shoes in the house just means more work for me and a shorter lifespan for his carpet, so he had gotten into the habit of taking them off when he got home, 

"I smile plenty, just not a lot around here." The realization that I was in the kitchen, wearing an apron, having casual conversation with a man just home from work made me embarrassed and a little angry. I was his pseudo-wife! How sick! "What are you doing home, anyway? You went in late today, right?" 

"Slow day. When business is slow and I have enough guys on the schedule, I'll sometimes leave." 

"You can do that?" 

"Well, I own the place, so yeah, I can do that." 

"I didn't know you owned it," I mumbled. That seemed odd. If he owned his own business, one that was doing reasonably well, why was he working a second job? 

Well, no sense in giving him another chance to bed me today. "I have a date tonight. I'll be leaving as soon as I finish cooking." Total lie. And total curveball. He seemed a little stunned and visibly unhappy. But I didn't know if he was unhappy that I had a date or that I wouldn't be having sex with him this evening. But he recovered quickly. 

"OK. What's on the menu?" 

"Curry chicken and potatoes with rice," I said blankly. Damn, I had really wanted to try this, too, but if I had to pretend to be going on a date, it would look funny if I ate dinner first. 

"Smells amazing. I love curry," he said, moving towards me and breathing in deep over the pot. "I'm going to go change." 

"Whatever. I'll probably be gone when you get back down," I warned. As soon as he was in his room, I bolted upstairs, changed into something plausible, grabbed my computer and ran back downstairs. I took the pot off the stove, put it on the table, scooped some into a bowl to take with me, and headed to my car. I drove a few blocks away to a coffee shop, scarfed down my food in the parking lot, and headed inside to putz around for a few hours. 

******* 

I should have driven farther away. 

"Are you the girl that's living with Andrew now?" 

"What?" I was halfway through a hot chocolate and was engrossed in an article on urban renewal when a friendly voice interrupted me. 

She was, in a word, perky. Shorter than me, blonde- the cheerleader type, but minus the snooty demeanor. She was clearing tables and had on a tell-tale apron. 

"I saw you in here with him last week or so." 

Right...my car had been in his shop for a night, and he drove me to and from work. We had stopped for breakfast on the way in. It didn't even occur to me that we were close enough to the house that people would recognize one of us. 

"My cousin lives down the road from him, he said someone had moved in a while back- a cute girl. I can't say mine wasn't one of the hearts that sank with that news." Cheerful, playful, attractive. Casually talking while she walked around. The shop wasn't crowded, so she wasn't bothering anyone with her chatter. 

"No, it's not...I...we're not...I'm just renting a room from him. We're not...a couple." 

Now I had her attention. She set her bin down on a table, pulled up a chair and looked at me with a beaming face. "What's with the ring?" She whispered loudly, as if we were starting some conspiracy. I self-consciously glanced at my empty fingers. 

"Ring?" 

"Yeah, the wedding ring. Is he divorced? Did she die? Is it fake?" 

"I...I don't know. We don't talk much. He's just my landlord who lives down the hall. There is...or was...a wife, but he won't say anything about her." 

"No one has ever seen or heard of a wife, and so he seems...available." 

"I couldn't say." 

"Does he ever have girls over?" 

"Not that I've noticed, but I don't keep tabs on him." 

"So, is he secretly gross or something?" 

"I...I don't think so. But I don't really know him...?" 

"You've lived there a month and don't know him?" 

"Like I said, we don't really talk much. He's busy, I'm busy, we're not friends or anything. It's just business- I rent a room." Just business. Right. 

"Well. We've all got theories on him. Tabby thinks his wife disappeared and he wears the ring, hoping she'll be found. Diane thinks she left him and he wears the ring in case she ever comes back. I think it's fake. He wears it to keep away skanks and gold-diggers, but once he finds the right girl, he stops pretending." 

"Wow. I think you all've thought entirely too much about him," I said, a little freaked out by their obsession with Andrew. 

"Oh, girl, it's not like that. Just idle chatter to pass the time, and he is so sweet and cute enough to get us talking." 

That made sense, but I doubted it was entirely the case. "Does he come here a lot?" I asked, genuinely curious. 

"No, he's not one of our daily regulars. But he'll stop by once a week or so. And his name's on his credit card and his jumpsuit, so..." 

"Ah, yes. Of course." 

"I'm Angelica," she said, reaching out her hand as she stood to get back to work. I shook it lightly and said simply, "Gina." 

Walking away with her bin of dirty mugs, she said, "Well, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Gina. And in the future, I could probably get you free refills in exchange for any juicy secrets about our man down the road." Creepy. 

"Oh! Wait, Angelica?" She stopped and looked back at me. Something important had just occurred to me. If Andrew found out I'd been here all evening instead of on a date...I smiled sweetly at her, "I might be a better informant if Andrew doesn't know that I come here." 

She narrowed her eyes quizzically and thought for a second. "Ohhh, right!" Her eyes sparkled and she made a lip-zipping motion with her fingers as she turned away. 

And that opened up a whole new world of worry for me. I just took anonymity for granted- no one around here knew who I was, neither of us was talking about...us- it seemed easy. But people see things, people talk, and in the absence of facts, people fill in the gaps with stories. I doubted any story they made up would come close to my reality, but it just made me nervous. How long could I pull this off? I didn't want to be at the house and now I didn't feel like I could go out. 

And what's worse, I couldn't even get away for an evening without it turning into something about Andrew. My whole identity was shifting to be centered around my relationship to him. It happened at the hair place, it happened at the coffee shop. I couldn't just be Gina anymore. I had to be Gina, the girl who lives with Andrew. 

I was realizing that I was giving up a lot more than I had expected in order to make this work. I had thought it could be simple, I had thought exchanging a few fucks a week for shelter, food, and gas would be straightforward, but now I was seeing that there was a lot more on the line. I felt disoriented, lost, and sick. 

******* 

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. Despite our schedules being a little less conflicted, Andrew only bothered me for sex just once more (maybe our Sunday night/Monday morning double header had satisfied him for a spell). I didn't intentionally avoid him much, but neither did he chase me down. I think he was trying to give me some space or something. 

But then he started getting antsy, easily agitated. He was perpetually unhappy. Maybe work was stressful, maybe it was something else. I figured maybe he just needed to get laid. Part of me wanted to reach out to him and suggest just that, if only to bring the mood up a little in the house. But he could demand a fuck whenever he wanted, so why should I bother? 

I didn't want him to think I cared, but by the end of the week his moping and snapping and overall pissy-ness was getting annoying. So on Saturday morning, when we both sat down to a late breakfast, I commented, "You've sure been cheerful lately." 

He seemed a little startled and looked up from his bowl of yogurt and granola. "I'm...sorry?" 

"It's nothing to me, I'm just sayin'. Usually I'm the sourest face in the house, but lately you've made me look downright chipper." 

"Well, I'm not exactly a bucket of sunshine, usually. Having you around has lifted my spirits, but I...well, I'm just on a bit of a down swing right now. Reality is a clingy bitch, " At least I thought that's what the last sentence was. It was hard to tell when he spoke with a mouthful of yogurt and strawberries. He might have said, "We all need a stringy witch." 

"I don't know what you have to complain about. You've got good money coming in, a stable living situation, and a sex slave housekeeper." 

He dropped his spoon in his bowl and gave me an angry look. We had talked about this several times- the questionable nature of our arrangement and how I couldn't deny my own choices in entering this relationship (and my own freedom in leaving the arrangement whenever I wanted). 

I arched my eyebrows and gave him a sassy look. I even stuck out my tongue, like a little sister teasing her brother. He relaxed and resumed eating. I think he even smirked. 

I got up to clear the dishes and asked, "So are your plans for today to mope through breakfast, brood until lunch, and then nurture an ironic angst until you leave for work?" 

"Keep running your mouth like that and I'll be forced to put something in it," he dead-panned. That was not the kind of humor I was used to from him. This was more like someone I could joke with. He headed into the living room and began flipping through the DVD drawer. 

I tilted my head and used a saccharine-sweet voice to taunt, "Aww, Andrew. Nobody's forcing you to do anything!" 

He caught my meaning, straightened up and turned towards me, saying, "See, now you're just asking for it." 

"Such a charmer! Do you sweet talk all the ladies like that?" 

"Alright, that's it." He sat back on the couch and shucked his sweatpants. "Get that mouth over here and put it to some good use." OK, so by itself that statement sounds horrible, but in the context of our banter, it was just silly. And since Andrew was not the kind of guy to seriously talk like that, I didn't feel threatened. I was actually...enjoying this. 

"Oh, Andy, you know I could never refuse you," I said sweetly, and then added in a deeper and more serious voice, "literally." 

By the time I got to the couch, he was pumping his cock to get it fully erect. I knelt down on the floor in front of him and started licking his tip. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands- caressing my hair, running the backs of his fingers along my cheeks, rubbing my shoulders... 

I regretted not waiting until after his shower to push him this far, but everything had happened so naturally. 

I took his whole tip in my mouth and teased the tip with my tongue. Sucking just the tip, I gripped his shaft with my right hand and put my left hand on his hip. I was in no hurry- I think I was just bored and this was a way to pass the time. I dipped his tip in and out of my mouth, slowly rubbing it between my lips. 

He kept resting his hand on the back of my head and would start to apply a little pressure to push me down, but then he would pull back and move his hands away. I could see him hold his hands up in the air and ball them into fists as he took deep breaths. I enjoyed knowing that I was torturing him. 

Without warning or build-up, I slipped two-thirds of his tool into my mouth- as much as I could get without feeling the need to gag. He gasped and whispered, "Damn!...Whoah!...O God, Gina!" 

I started a very slow motion, bobbing up and down, gripping his base with my hand and running the backs of my fingers around his thigh and ass cheek. With every downward motion, he took in air with a sharp gasp. One of his hands made it back to my head, lacing in my hair and resting there. He wasn't pushing me down, but his hand resting there was a reminder that he could do so. 

After what must have been two or three minutes of going as slowly as I could, I started speeding up, breathing out through my nose on the down strokes and sucking as hard as I could on the upstrokes. Andrew stomped his foot on the floor and lifted his hips a slight bit. By now, both of his hands were laced through my hair. Had he even noticed my haircut? Shut up Gina! Why do you even care? 

My mind was brought back to the task at hand by Andrew's nervous voice, "Gina?...Ohhh, yesss...Gina? Should I...oohhh...I'm close Gina!" I started moving my fist in time with my mouth- not speeding up but pressing harder, tighter. 

I wasn't going to swallow, and I wasn't going to do any porno move like spraying him on my face or chest (I still had my shirt on, anyway). There wasn't anything in easy reach unless I... 

"Gina! NNNGH!" That ended that debate. I pushed down with my hand and let him empty his frustration into my mouth. After a few seconds of groaning and pulsing, he was done. I managed to avoid gagging, and as soon as I was sure I could pull my mouth away without getting a surprise deposit on my shirt, I lunged to the side and grabbed his sweatpants. Holding them close to my face, I spit into his pants, wiped my mouth, balled up the sweats and tossed them in the direction of the laundry room. "I need to wash your clothes today, anyway," I said casually. 

******* 

A minute or two later, Andrew was still dazed, lying back on the couch with a lop-sided grin plastered on his face. I was downing a glass of grape juice and surveying the contents of the fridge so I could plan my next online recipe search. 

"Gina?" 

"Andy?" I said in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. I was liking this sarcastic sweetness. 

"Can I do that for you?" 

I lost the flirty voice and reverted to business voice. "That's not what you owe me in this arrangement, Andrew. You just keep paying the bills and I'll do my part." 

"No, that's not what I mean." He sat up and turned towards me. "I want to do that. I like it. You want to 'do your part?' Come over here, take off your pants, and let me eat you out." 

I slumped my shoulder and started trudging towards the couch, and in a whiny teenager voice, I asked, "Can I get my computer and multitask, since you only need me below the waist?" I was half-serious. I wasn't optimistic about getting anything out of this. 

"Gina..." 

"Put a movie on?" 

"No, but gimme a second..." He pushed a few buttons on the remotes, slipped a disc in the system, and beckoned me over to the couch. As I slipped my pajama pants off, a simple melody began. I think it was some sort of classical guitar group. It was nice- soothing, melodic, sensuous. Alright, I could close my eyes and listen for a bit. 

I lay down on the couch, put my hands on my stomach and interlaced my fingers. I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose. Andrew had to adjust a few times to get a good angle, but he eventually settled into a position where he stretched across my abdomen. With his nose closer to the couch and his chin near my clit, he had a good angle for reaching his hands around me and holding my ass. I chuckled a little when I noticed that both of us still had on our shirts yet were totally naked from the waist down. 

I tried to ignore his licking and touching and instead just relax and listen to the music. I wasn't entirely successful, but I did manage to get deep into the sounds. The guitars were so gentle, so earthy. The melody communicated such desire and longing, evoking images of lovers long-parted, reaching across time and space to meet again. I pictured the musicians- all handsome men, dark and Mediterranean, young, and fervent. Their fingers moved across the strings, stroking and pushing, rubbing and caressing, touching and soothing, drawing out latent longings. 

I was surprised to hear myself emit a loud and breathy moan as I shuddered. I wasn't conscious of when my hands had started moving. I was gradually aware that I had one hand on Andrew's head, gently pushing him towards the heat of my aching pussy. His stubble scratching my clit was stimulating, though not erotic. My other hand had found its way up the back of his shirt and was rubbing the skin of his shoulder blades. I decided to let myself enjoy this, and I remembered the last time we were on this couch together. I couldn't blame the alcohol this time, but I'm sure I could find sufficient rationalizations later. 

Andrew, meanwhile, was working hard to get a reaction out of me. One of his hands slid off my ass cheek and curled up between my legs. First one finger, then two, began gentle probings of my entrance. Andrew pulled his head up enough so that his tongue was covering my clit. His fingers started a very slow, rhythmic motion in and out while his tongue moved impossibly slowly and firmly across my clit. I cried out in longing and lifted my hips, trying to get more attention for the hardened nub that was the center of my need at the moment. 

Andrew maintained his languid pace, probably paying me back for my own technique earlier. But just like my method heightened his enjoyment in the end, I could feel my own tension building to something I might really appreciate. 

The slow song ended and a faster, more vibrant number began. Andrew took that as his cue to speed up, both with his fingers and his tongue. But it wasn't enough. I didn't think he was going to get me there that way, though not for lack of trying. And I was to the point where I was not going to leave unsatisfied. This began as something for him, but now I was going to get mine. 

I closed my fingers in his hair and gently pulled his head up. I said breathily, "Do the pillow thing." 

Without turning his head to face me, he asked, "The what?" 

"The pillow thing you did when we were on the couch once. You put it under my ass and..." 

"You want me inside you?" he asked, a little breathless and a little incredulous. 

"Is that a problem?" I gasped, not believing that we were still discussing this. 

In three seconds I had my answer. He was buried inside me and was picking a throw pillow up from the floor to put under me. The different angle helped and the pillow meant that I didn't have to keep pulling my hips back. But what really made "the pillow thing" work was when he adjusted himself forward until my face was in his chest. The new position aligned his pubic bone with my clit so that he didn't even need to thrust. All we had to do was hold that position and grind our crotches together. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 05



Now that was going to get me there! 

The guitar duet picked up speed, one playing a higher octave, rushing through notes in a frenzy, the other playing a lower octave, thumping deep notes that resonated in my chest. I had never had sex along with music before, but the rhythm was so strong and demanding that Andrew and I naturally started syncing with it. One of his hands worked up under my shirt and his thumb lightly stroked my nipple. His other hand wrapped around me and gripped my should from behind, not even giving me the option of pulling back to thrust- not that I needed to. 

I fixed my hands on his firm ass cheeks and pulled him tight. I was close. I started whining through my teeth, "Push...push...yes!...mmf...nnng...oh...oh!...OH!!" 

My legs, which had been wrapped around his waist, kicked straight up, my toes curling. My head convulsed forward, and I grabbed Andrew's chest with my teeth, earning a pinched nipple when his hand reacted to the sudden pain. In either anger or lust, Andrew gave two or three firm thrusts and started cumming. 

I had never experienced a mutual orgasm before. Feeling him swell and pulse while my walls clenched and squeezed was uniquely pleasurable- especially intimate. We both struggled to get him deeper inside me, we both pulled the other as close as we could, we both grunted and moaned incoherently. 

When he had finished cumming, I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep him from moving. I was still trembling and was enjoying the fullness of his cock inside me. Every ten seconds or so, my walls would give another light squeeze and I would shiver all over. Andrew, meanwhile, was still catching his breath and was in no hurry to move, anyway. 

As I finally relaxed my legs, Andrew pulled out, whispering to himself, "I love this couch." 

******* 

Not long afterwards, Andrew was dressed and putting a movie on the TV. It was a chilly, drizzly day, and he didn't need to work until 6. I was getting laundry together and cutting veggies to make salsa. Just before the movie started, I spoke. "Andrew, I don't want you getting any ideas based on this morning." 

"What kind of ideas?" he asked, not looking back at me. 

"Just because...just because I wanted to have sex...and I enjoyed it..." (damn! Why was I sounding so awkward?) "that doesn't mean I wanted to have sex with you." I think that made sense, at least. "Our arrangement doesn't make it easy for me to get out and see other...and see guys. And with all the sex going on, I'm bound to get worked up by the physical aspect of it, leaving the emotional aspect totally out of the picture. So sometimes, I just need to get off, and since we're already fucking, I just see you as a convenient object for my pleasure." 

Silence. I had rehearsed that last part in my head several times this week. I had to admit that I was horny sometimes, and why not get off while fucking Andrew? Even if I wasn't choosing to fuck him. Was that twisted? 

"Gina, I'll never understand how you separate the physical and the emotional components of sex. Never. But for as long as you are willing to indulge me, I'll be happy to be an object for your pleasure." 

Dork. 

He was quiet for a moment, still looking at the screen, where the movie was paused. Then he added, "But it's important to me that you know...you're not just an object to me. And you shouldn't let yourself be that to anyone. That's why it's important to me that you understand that you are choosing to do this and that you are free to end it. You're a person, and the only compulsion in this arrangement is what you bring into it." 

I didn't know if I wanted to hug him or throw an onion at him. At least I knew it was the onions that were making me cry. 

He started the movie. I picked up another onion and felt sick.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 06



Over the weekend, Andrew worked nights and I worked all day Sunday. We didn't cross paths except at breakfast. His mood wasn't happy, but he at least wasn't too grumpy around me. On Monday, he was scheduled to be at the shop from 8-4, and I was trying to hide my eagerness for him to get out the door. Knowing he would be gone for a while, I planned to dig deeper (literally) into the mysteries in his closet. 

I was standing at the sink, washing the same dishes over and over while Andrew slowly put on his work shoes, gathered the lunch I had prepared for him, and stepped outside. As soon as the door shut behind him, I pulled off the apron, wiped my hands on a towel and ran upstairs. I wasted no time in pulling out the half-dozen or so boxes from his closet floor. The top few I had already glanced through. I flipped through his wedding album again, this time noticing the fancy embroidered invitation pasted on the inside cover. 

Next week was Penny and Andrew's wedding anniversary. Six years next Thursday. Regardless of what the story was with his wife, his sour mood made a lot more sense now. I was thinking about the implications of this discovery when my phone rang. I set everything down on the floor and walked over to the bed, where my phone was announcing a call from a number I didn't know. I paused a second, then scooped it up. 

"Hello, this is Gina." 

"Gina, Hi! This is Mary Beth from Wellspring Services and Associates. We've reviewed your resume and your application and would like to talk more with you about a position at our company. Are you still interested in seeking a position?" 

"YES!" I blurted out, much, much too eagerly. "I'm sorry, what I mean is, I would love to have the chance to learn more about the position. When would be a good time to come to your office?" 

With amusement in her voice, Mary Beth said, "We have slots at 3 and 4pm this afternoon and at 10am and 2pm tomorrow. I was off that day and only had snooping on my schedule, so I took the 4pm interview. 

I managed to stay calm as I finished the call, but as soon as I hung up, I squeezed my arms tight against my body and then spread them wide, shouting a triumphant, "YES!" Then I recollected my wits and remembered that it was only an interview, not an offer. Still, it gave me hope that my days as a sex-toy maid were numbered. 

******* 

I still had the whole morning and half the afternoon ahead of me, so I pulled out another box. Lots and lots of baby pictures. Seriously, who prints pictures anymore? Even four years ago, who wasn't completely digital then? Some of the pictures were in frames, a few of which were cracked and even shattered. It was clear that someone (Penny, no doubt) had spent time hand-making some of these frames. 

One especially cute one had the baby's face in the center, outlined by a heart drawn with lipstick on the glass. Andrew and Penny's smiling faces were on either side of her. The frame had wooden letters glued on it, reading, "Family is Love. Love is Forever." Cute. Naive, sappy, sentimental, but cute. 

It was clear I didn't know the guy in these pictures. He had disappeared along with the woman and child, leaving a sad, tired, occasionally mopey hornball behind. It seemed to me like something had happened between Andrew and Penny, and she had left him with their daughter. 

As I sat thinking about possibilities and how to confirm my suspicions, I heard my phone buzz. A text. 

Are you awake? It was from Steve. 

It's 9am, do you think I'm a complete slug? 

Hey, it's your day off. You should be relaxing. 

One can relax out of bed. 

Yeah, but most things are better in bed. We normally didn't text, especially not flirty ones, so I wondered what was up. 

Anyway, I was thinking it was about time to collect on that drink you owe me. 

Did I make a promise while drunk? 

No :) I helped you move. I believe there was a beverage or two promised. 

Haha! I forgot. So basically you want to take me on a date that I'll pay for? :-P 

Ooh, now it's a date. I like the way this is going! 

I'll be in town for an interview at 4. Want to celebrate with me afterwards? 

Sure! Let me know when you're done and we'll meet up. 

Sounds good. See you later... 

So now I had an interview and a date today. I wasn't that interested in Steve, but he was convenient, and I really did want some male presence in my life other than Andrew. And it got me thinking. Was there someone I could set Andrew up with? Maybe not anything too serious, but if he was getting some action elsewhere, maybe he'd need a little less of my time and energy. 

I remembered Angelica and her chattering coworkers, any of whom might be giddy over the idea of an evening with Andrew. Hell, they might compete with each other over the chance to bed him first! 

While my mind was picturing Angelica's perky tits bouncing in front of Andrew's face, I was still pulling things out of the closet boxes. At the bottom of one box, underneath some dark roses pressed and sealed in a plastic bag, I found a manila folder with the name "Noel" written in large letters on it. I emptied the contents into my lap. A birth certificate for "Beatrice Noel," born about 4 years earlier. Some medical reports from check-ups and vaccinations during her first few months. Cards from a baby shower. A certificate with her footprint on it. 

And a death certificate. She lived to be 11 months old. She died...three years ago this Wednesday. 

And now I understood why Andrew was "on a down swing" lately. The date of his daughter's death and his wedding anniversary fell within 8 days of each other, and that time was coming up soon. Geez, Gina, it's a wonder he hasn't totally fallen apart. And with the holidays coming up...what a shitty time of year for him! I felt...sympathy? Pity? 

These days, though I was past my hate for Andrew, my feelings towards him were still safely in the realm of disdain. But in light of this- knowing that there was such a cloud hanging over him... 

And yet I couldn't stop obsessing about his wife. I started digging faster, messier, less carefully. Where was the folder marked "Penny"? Where was her death certificate? Or where was the note from her saying that she couldn't take the pain and had to get away and start a new life? For a brief moment, I wanted to hold Andrew and tell him that it was OK, tell him that life could be good and happy. I wanted to believe that myself. I wanted him to unload and tell me everything, not just so I could know, but so that I could share the weight of that intolerable burden. 

I started to think about how I hated the month of June because of Ian, my brother. I started to think of how hard it was when the police came to the door that night when I was 12. I started to think of how Ian wasn't the only one that died that day- the parents I had loved and needed died, too. I never saw them again; they were replaced by hollow shells that simply managed our home for 6 years until I left. 

I found myself holding the picture frame that promised, "Family is Love, Love is Forever." I thought it would be so much better to not know what you were missing, what life was denying you. I found myself crying out of pity- pity for Andrew, who was so alone, and pity for myself, who couldn't remember not being alone. 

******* 

I pulled it together long enough to put everything back in boxes, even if they weren't in the right boxes. I restored order to the closet and resolved to shift my attention to cooking lunch. Just so he didn't get any ideas about this evening, I texted Andrew. Job interview at 4! Date with Steve afterwards. Don't wait up. 

It was about 30 minutes later when I got a reply: Happy for you. Good luck on both ventures. About 10 minutes later he followed that with, Plan on being up early tomorrow or else home tomorrow evening, please. 

******* 

The interview went reasonably well. I had thought ahead enough to look up the company and remind myself what they did. It was a sales job for in-home medical systems. Basically, trying to get sick and elderly people to buy products that cost more than my car. I don't think I needed any qualifications other than a nice set of boobs and the ability to speak coherent sentences. I was not really interested in sales, and letting go of a part-time job to accept a full-time job that probably wouldn't last seemed...unwise. They said they'd contact me later that week. 

I put those thoughts on hold once Steve showed up. We had some light drinks (my treat) then headed to dinner (his treat). We went to a gourmet burger restaurant Steve had heard good things about. I felt a little overdressed, still wearing the business suit I took to the interview. Steve was dressed down, apparently not considering how I would need to be dressed. It was a bit awkward, but our casual conversation flowed just fine. 

I didn't feel very flirty or playful. There was too much on my mind. And as much as I wanted to blame that on vocational decisions, it really kept coming back to Penny, Noel, and Andrew. Steve was enough of a gentleman not to act disappointed when I told him I was tired and needed to head home. He could tell I was distracted, and I hoped he didn't take it personally. 

******* 

I got home a little before nine. I walked softly up to my room and saw that Andrew's light was still on. I took off my skirt and jacket, slipped my bra off, and sat on my recliner, legs curled up under me and arms wrapped in a self-embrace. I looked out at the moon, closed my eyes and thought of Ian. I thought of happier times and less confusing seasons. Before I knew it, a half hour had passed in stillness. As another wave of tears tried to find release, I stood up and walked to the door. Wearing only my panties and a button-down blouse, I passed through the dimly-lit hall. 

Andrew's light still shone from under his door. I lifted my hand to knock, then paused. I closed my eyes and strengthened my resolve. I need this, I need this to take my mind off things. I need this to help me stop...feeling. Satisfied, I tapped lightly and called softly, "Andrew? Can I come in?" 

Silence. Then, "Yes." 

I opened the door and stepped inside. Closing the door behind me, I leaned back against it, arms crossed behind me. Andrew was sitting on a glider in the corner of the room, glasses on, reading a classic novel. A lamp shone over his shoulder. I winced inwardly, remembering that the glider was from the baby's room, according to photos I wasn't supposed to have seen. 

"What's up?" he asked, trying to make eye contact but not getting much higher than my bare legs. 

With my fingertips, I pushed away from the door and walked towards him. I shimmied out of my panties while I took the eight or so steps across the room. Climbing onto his lap, I found there was just enough room on the glider for my knees to slide down around his hips. Andrew reached his arm out to put his book on the nightstand, but he only succeeded in dropping it on the floor, an arms-length away. I took off his glasses and dropped them an arms-length the other direction. 

Andrew looked worried, which I chalked up to being stunned at my unusual behavior. But then I noticed that, rather than the sexy, confident look I was going for, I was instead showing up teary-eyed and desperate. I started babbling, "Please don't say anything. I just need this to help me stop...to help me take my mind off some things. I need something physical to drown out all the...everything else. I don't want you to...I'm not..." 

I held his jaw in both hands and started kissing him. He put his hand on my chest and pushed me back gently. "Gina, this won't drown out everything else. It'll just replace it with something else. I don't want you to think that..." 

"Just stop talking, please. Do you want me to fuck you or not?" I emphasized my point by grinding against his very hard cock, which was still buried in his pajama pants. 

He looked like he was genuinely thinking about that question. Would he say no? It would be the ultimate power play- turning me away from sex when I wanted it, just to show he's in charge. Rejecting me when I'm obviously vulnerable and needy, just to keep me in my place. Or more likely, he might say no out of some misguided sense of chivalry. 

He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of my head, looked at the strands running over his hand and said distantly, "Your hair looks nice, but I liked it better when it wasn't styled. You have this simple, natural beauty that is enchanting." 

I closed my eyes and leaned in to kiss him. I choked out a few words, "Stop...talking." I ground myself on his lap and kissed him violently, my hips moving in circles and my hands holding our faces close. I reached down to the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, bunching the fabric up in my fingers as I lifted. He raised his arms and pulled his head back as I completely removed the garment. Now I could run my hands all over his chest as we resumed kissing. 

Our tongues did real battle, each fighting to possess the other's mouth. My hips moved of their own accord while I closed my eyes and got lost in the sensation of his mouth on mine, his hands moving up under my shirt, one on my back and one on my side. His hand went roughly up and down my side, each time drawing a little closer to my breast, until on one upstroke he finally slid across my whole breast and held his hand there. My nipple hardened against his palm and he pressed back gently. 

He pulled his hands out again and grabbed my shirt near the top button and made as if to rip the whole thing open. Thankfully, I noticed and quickly put my hands on his, saying, "No. It's my only nice shirt." 

He huffed one little laugh and then started unbuttoning my blouse. With our mouths again on the attack and my hips pressing for as much contact with his covered cock as this position allowed, it was hard work for his thick fingers to get each little button undone. With three unfastened and two more to go, I couldn't keep waiting to feel skin on my breasts again. I reached down and yanked the shirt open, hearing the buttons bounce off the wall. With my shirt open, I fell forward, wrapping my arms around Andrew's neck and rubbing my breasts against his firm chest. "I guess I'll have to take up sewing," I whispered in his ear. 

"Up," was all he said, patting my ass with his hand. I raised myself up as far as I could, which wasn't far, and he tried to pull his pants down. "Up," he demanded with another pat, and I got off my knees and into a crouch. That gave him enough room to slide his pajama pants and boxer briefs down, and with a few kicks, they went off to join his shirt and my panties somewhere on the floor. 

Kneeling wouldn't have worked for much penetration on the narrow glider, which was swaying back and forth with our motions, so I appreciated the new position. With my feet next to his ass, I could squat down and rub my dampening slit against his hardness. I put my arms around his neck again, like a chaste hug between friends, and I was able to feel his warm skin against me from my neck all the way down. He put his hands on my back and ass and helped me slide up and down. The motion of the glider made our movements feel even more exaggerated. 

I was loving how I could press and rub against his shaft like this. I'm sure he was eager to get inside me, but first I had to see how close I could get myself to the edge. The only problem was that my legs were cramping up, being in a continued squat. I lifted first one, then the other leg and put them on the cushioned arms of the glider, resting all my weight on Andrew's lap. This way, I could still thrust and could control my pressure and movements over him without needing to support my own weight. Plus, it caused my legs to spread, which opened my pussy up for more access- more contact with his warm, pulsing rod. 

I could easily angle my hips to rub my clit along his cock. He had the presence of mind to push his hips forward and up a little, giving me even better access. I started moaning and gasping as our motion brought me faster and faster towards orgasm. My arms were still around his neck, my shirt still hanging on, covering only my back and shoulders. I felt a little like I was holding on to him for dear life while my lower body went berserk. 

I needed a little something more, some extra stimulation to get me there. I pulled away from Andrew and leaned back, maintaining the constant friction against my slit that was taking me up the hill. Thrusting my breasts forward I panted, "Kiss...kiss them." 

With no delay, Andrew's mouth and right hand were fully engaged on my nipples. With his mouth he sucked one, teasing it with his tongue. With his fingers he traced slow circles around my aureole. 

It was almost enough. My breathing quickened and my moans got higher. "Mmf..yes!...please...almost...ooohhww!" When he used his teeth to gently grasp my nipple while diddling it with his tongue, I finally had my release. 

With both hands I grabbed his head and pulled tight, pressing him against my chest so hard that it hurt. My hips jerked rapidly, still pushing against his firm shaft. My toes clenched and released several times in rapid succession, and my legs tried to squeeze together but were stopped by the glider. 

During one of the upward jerks of my shaking hips, Andrew pushed out with his stomach, moving me just over his tip so that when I jerked downward...he was completely inside me in one motion. Once that was accomplished, he pressed firmly on my lower back, holding me in place while my walls clenched around him. The instant fullness set me to moaning and spasming a little more. An unexpected pleasure. 

I don't know how long it took me to come down from that cathartic peak. I remember leaning forward against Andrew and resting my head on his shoulder, still whimpering and moaning every few seconds, when my tunnel would squeeze him. After a few minutes for me to recover, Andrew started to gently move my body up and down against him. He paused, slowly removed my blouse and began rubbing my back. I was still shivering and jerking every few moments, beautiful aftershocks of my orgasm. 

"Hold on to me, babe. I'm gonna stand up." I again wrapped my arms around his neck and he used his hands to grip the armrests of the glider. He thrust his hips forward to get balanced, and that action drew a long moan out of me. He teetered for a moment, then got his balance. Wrapping me up in his strong arms, he carried me the few steps to his bed. Never disengaging for a moment, he pulled the sheets back with one hand, then lowered us to the bed. 

Setting me down gently, with his arms still wrapped around my back, he than settled his weight down on me. My back arched and I let out a spontaneous "Yessssss" as his added weight just pushed his cock deep into me. 

I was still feeling buzzed from cumming and my instincts were telling me to keep thrusting and rubbing. I started pushing my hips up against him with my legs locked behind him. With my arms rubbing up and down his back at the same time, it must have looked like I was trying to shimmy up an imaginary pole. Or not so imaginary. Andrew gave slow, measured thrusts, each one reaching me at my deepest spots and staying there while I gyrated and panted loudly. 

Andrew propped himself up on his hands and watched me. I was almost in a trance- my world centered on our joined bodies in that moment and, for a few glorious minutes, nothing else mattered. My eyes were mostly closed, but I opened them slightly and squinted up at Andrew, my mouth open, panting, whimpering, half-forming words of lust and longing. I moved my hands down to his firm, well-curved ass cheeks and enjoyed the sensation of holding him tight that way, feeling their rocking motion. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 06



Holding himself in place inside me, he watched me writhing and groaning. Then lowering down on top of me again, he resumed strong, slow thrusting. He put his mouth against my ear and whispered, "Are you...do you think you..." For a guy who was having me pay rent with my body, he was strangely timid in talking about sex sometimes. Which was even funnier considering he had his cock deep...deep...oh yes, deeper...inside me. 

I turned my head to his ear and whispered, "Yes...pant, pant...I'm going to...mmmmng...cum again, but...ungh, nnnngh...maybe not like this." 

He instantly squeezed me in his arms and rolled us over. I barely missed a beat and continued thrusting down on him. He grabbed my thighs and moved them so that they were between his legs. That closed my legs together and made my walls tight around his member. That tightness made me feel suddenly fuller, and the new angle gave my clit the different stimulation it needed to get to the next level. 

His hands on my back and bottom were becoming counterproductive, disrupting the motion I needed. I reached back and moved them off with a simple, "no." Andrew smiled and grabbed my hands, which surprised me and almost upset my progress. But he quickly placed our hands on the pillow over his head, which worked well. Then he spread open his hands. I kept my hands in his, interlocking our fingers, and put a lot of my weight forward, leaning down so that my body weight kept his hands from moving. 

"That's it," he said, smirking. "I can't bother you now." He probably could have shaken loose, but the pressure I had on his hands had him practically restrained. And leaning forward as I was, my tits hung down right above his face. My hair, though only a little longer than shoulder-length, spread over our faces like a curtain. I could only see his face, wincing and grimacing in pleasure. 

He lifted his head and could just barely get his mouth on a breast. It felt nice, but it wasn't going to finish me off. I started squeezing my PC muscles while I thrust. Feeling his shaft inside me, squeezing it and sensing his hardness was so deeply erotic. While I squeezed, I pushed down with my hands, lifting my upper body off of Andrew. Something about the power I had to hold him down, to keep his hands restrained- that feeling pushed me into a frenzy. 

With a few strong squeezes and thrusts, I was at my peak and rushing over the edge. My mouth opened wide but I barely made a sound. Full body jerks every other second, my walls clenching on their own, dropping my head down below my shoulders, hair tickling Andrew's chest, fingers still locked with his, clenching into fists around his hands. 

While I was still shaking, Andrew started thrusting up, trying to compensate for my lack of motion. His hands pushed up against mine, and though I wanted to just lie down on top of him and relax while he finished, I determined to hold his hands in place and see how he reacted. I kept the pressure on his palms and locked my elbows so that my arms were straight, keeping my body out of his reach. Our only points of contact were our hands, gripped together, and his cock, gripped even tighter. 

As he thrust, he managed to get a leg under mine and pushed his knee up, successfully spreading my legs a bit. I indulged him, welcoming the slight change in position. I even drew my knees up along his chest, letting him go even deeper inside me. I did not, however, thrust with him. I simply pushed down with my hips, just like I did with my hands. 

His noises got frantic, his eyes clenched shut. I couldn't help but smile at his predicament- so much pleasure, so close, and yet not quite getting there. Mercifully, I shifted my hips and thrust with him one...two...three...four times until his head and chest propelled off the pillow, his body trying to bend at the waist as his hips drove up into me. His eyes shot open for a second and he shouted his ecstasy. I pushed down hard, not letting him thrust as he came, and I felt his pulsing inside me. With each pulse inside me, his head lifted up and his eyes clenched shut. 

Finally, he exhaled one long breath and wiggled his hands out of my grip. I lay down on my side next to him and smiled. He turned his head, still catching his breath, and looked at me with a questioning gaze. Then he rolled his body towards me and started kissing- gentle at first, little pecks around my lips, then slow, full kisses. I responded in kind and touched his tongue with the tip of my own. 

His hands roamed along my body- stomach, sides, cupping my breasts, tracing my collarbone. He had certainly won me over to the joy of a good post-sex make-out. "Afterglow," he called it, and I really did feel a little like glowing. We kissed and cuddled until I felt the urge to relieve myself. 

Returning from the toilet, I passed Andrew, who was about to take his turn in the bathroom. I stood at the foot of the bed and hesitated. I had planned to go back to my room; but that would probably lead to unwelcome trains of thought this evening. My plan to be distracted had worked remarkably well. I turned towards the bed and crawled under the covers. Andrew came out a minute later, and was looking around on the floor for his clothes. 

"Just come back to bed," I invited, my words muffled by the covers. He quickly straightened up and looked my direction, obviously surprised to see me there. I explained, "I might need more distracting tonight. Or in the morning." 

In a goofy voice, he said softly, "I suppose I could help you out, if you really need it." He lay down next to me on his back, and I scooted closer, draping a leg across his crotch and an arm across his chest. 

As I felt sleep overtaking me, I began to get a little worried what he thought. My pity for him (which he didn't know about) made it easier to do this, but tonight was still just about meeting my needs. "Seriously, though, Andrew, don't get the wrong idea. It's just been a rough day or so for me, and I need something to get my mind off things. You're just a body to me tonight. Just a body. Juuust a sexy body." 

I think I remember him saying something like, "I don't think it's possible for you to really believe that," or some such nonsense, but I was already too far gone. 

******* 

Something woke me in the middle of the night. The clock showed 2:30am. I was briefly disoriented, waking in Andrew's bed, naked, with Andrew's arm around me. We had worked our way almost to spooning. The rhythmic breathing behind me told me that my bedmate was asleep. His dick was awake, however, and it poked me in the back. I reached behind me, gripped it lightly, and maneuvered myself back onto it. Lifting my leg slightly, I nestled the tip at my moist entrance and slooowwwly thrust back. His arm was draped across me, and I adjusted it so that his hand fully cupped my boob. I even slipped my nipple in between his closed fingers, which gave some pleasant stimulation. 

I didn't move around after that. I just lightly rubbed myself to orgasm. Cumming usually feels better to me when there's a warm cock inside for my walls to squeeze. Still holding him inside me, I covered his arm with my own and fell quickly asleep. 

******* 

I awoke to pressure in my crotch. The clock said 3:25, and there was a cock making gentle thrusts into me. I vaguely remembered putting that cock there earlier. I closed my eyes and tried in vain to sleep. Andrew was in no hurry. I didn't know if he was trying not to wake me or if he was half asleep himself. 

He started mumbling as he pushed into me. 

Yeah, baby...so good...so good...I love you baby...I love you so much... 

Definitely half-asleep. I guess he thought I was Penny, at least I hoped that was the case, rather than those words being meant for me. I guess a pussy is a pussy and in the dark I was whomever he wanted me to be. He pushed his other arm under me and completely enveloped me in an strong embrace. 

Love to hold you...hold you... 

I was afraid to do anything, I didn't want to wake him the rest of the way up. Talk about awkward. 

His thrusts sped up and his breathing quickened. 

Oh baby...baby...I love you, baby...oh...OH...NNNGH! He pressed deep inside me and came. Being held so tight against him, I felt every jerk of his body as he released. Suddenly he got up, still cumming inside me, propping himself on his elbow and holding his breath. One hand still on my breasts, cock still hard, he seemed to have gained some lucidity. "What...who...?" I imagine it was too dark to see me. 

"Andrew, it's Gina." 

"Gina?" Didn't register. 

"Gina. It's OK, Andrew. It's fine. That's what I'm here for. Go back to sleep." Pleeeease go back to sleep, I added mentally. 

Laying back down, "Oh." And then he went right back to sleep. I lay there and felt his tool soften inside me. It must have taken 10 minutes for it to finally slip out. Meanwhile, I thought about what a big mistake this might have been. I should have just faced my demons and left Andrew out of it. I let myself get needy. 

Andrew, I hated to admit, might have been right. I didn't drown out the emotional with the physical. I just replaced one emotional mess for another. I didn't love him, I certainly didn't want to love him. But I was getting too close. I was recklessly introducing feelings into our arrangement, feelings that came in through the back door of pity, or sympathy, or whatever. Something had to change. 

With Andrew's arm still holding me to himself, I wiggled my but against him and drifted off to sleep again. I felt scared.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 07



This begins the second half of a twelve chapter series. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned as this and future chapters reveal what happens when Gina says no, what happens when Gina brings a guy over, the stories behind Noel and Penny, and what finally becomes of Gina and Andrew's arrangement.



It wasn't sunlight that woke me this time, but nature- I needed to pee. I rolled the wrong way, though, and was half-way on top of Andrew before I noticed my mistake. I kept going, crawling over him and rolling off his side of the bed, and headed to the bathroom. I guess that woke him up, and he took care of his morning needs after I was done. I started looking for my clothes, but the early November chill drove me back under the covers for a quick warm-up while I planned my day. I had an afternoon shift, but not an evening one, which was kind of a sucky arrangement. A long commute for short hours and bad tips. 

I heard a flush and Andrew came walking back in. I closed my eyes under the covers and hoped he wasn't planning to extend last night's activities into this morning. He slipped under the covers, still naked. "You've got the right idea, it's too cold out there."

"Go turn on the heat!'

"In a minute. In a minute," he muttered, scooting my direction. His hand reached over and began stroking my belly. I flinched at the initial contact, then relaxed.

"I've got an afternoon shift, I was hoping to get a lot of housework done after breakfast. And I need to make you something for dinner, since I won't be home until after 5." I tried to distract him with mundane things. His rubbing went higher up my body and lower, too, covering me from neck to thighs with gentle touches.

"I'm doing my double shifts today, but it's only a little after 6am" he said, sounding distant. Still caressing me, he began a question, "Gina, last night...?" I didn't want to interrupt, because there were a couple things he might be referring to. "After we fell asleep, did we...have sex again?"

I was glad he didn't want to analyze my motives and feelings in coming to his room the night before. "Yeah, you poked me in your sleep," I explained, trying to minimize it. 

"Did I...say things to you?"

"Well, you mumbled a lot, but it sounded like sleepy nonsense."

He shifted his crotch towards mine. I was lying on my back with my hands holding the top of the covers up at my neck. 

"Oh...OK. I'm sorry about that, I was having a vivid dream...and then I sort of woke up and I was all confused...and I thought I was having sex with someone, and then it seemed like I really was, but it was different from my dream, and...I don't know...I'm just...sorry if it was weird."

While he was talking, he lifted up my leg that was closest to him and adjusted it so it was over his waist. With him on his side and me still on my back, it was natural to slip my other leg in between his. With one hand, he lined his cock up with my slit and with the other, he spread my lips. Nestling his tip just inside me, he let go of his cock and resumed rubbing my belly.

"Andrew, you must have a very inconsistent definition of 'weird' if you think something about last night was strange and yet what you're doing right now is normal." 

He let out a long breath through his nose and started very small motions with his hips. I was still too dry for entry. Andrew was on his side, and the arm he was lying on slipped under my back and down to my butt cheeks. His other hand, the one free to rub, moved around in circles, getting lower each time until he was running his fingers in small circles around my clit. I reached one arm out and put it behind his neck. With my other hand, I joined his fingers at work on my nub, which was just starting to get into the game. I wanted to hurry this along, and if I could help get myself ready for action, that would benefit us both.

Once my hand started working my clit, Andrew moved his hand back to its post on my belly and breasts, tracing unrepeating, unpredictable paths around my torso. My own work started to pay off, and my hips started gentle motions against him. Sensing my growing wetness and my readiness, Andrew pushed in a bit. Then he held still and kept caressing. After a minute or two, I pushed further down, pulling more of him in. Still working my clit, I was on my way to my own pleasure, much to my surprise.

Andrew pushed the final inch inside me and started lazily working himself in and out. The way our legs were intertwined- stacked like criss-crossed logs at the corner of a cabin- made for some interesting sensations. Every now and then, Andrew's hand would run from my breasts all the way down my belly, over my thighs and onto my calf. That was one perk being taken like this- his hands on my leg felt nice.

Too soon, I heard Andrew's breathing get sharper, and I felt his thrusts press harder. He wasn't pulling far out of me, but he was pressing firmly in each time. On most thrusts, his leg pressed my hand up against my clit, which was distracting, slowing down my advance.

His hand, which was rubbing my thigh quite nicely, moved to my trimmed bush and stayed there. Between that and his other hand still cupping my ass, he was able to match his thrusting with an irresistible pulling of my body against his. He held my whole middle section in-between his two hands, and he used that power to draw his pleasure from my tightening hole. Unable to keep rubbing myself, I put my hand on top of his and waited out his release.

Loud, sharp breaths accompanied each deep thrust until he arched his back, squeezed his legs, and came with a subdued yell. I felt him pulsing inside...one, two...three, four...five...six...his body relaxed...seven...he pushed back in a little...eight, nine...

He moved his hand back up to my breast and rested it there. When he made a move to pull out, I reached a hand down to his hip and held him in place. "Wait," I warned.

I resumed my own self-pleasuring. Just as there were times when I felt like an elaborate hole that he used for masturbation, this was a time when I felt like his tool was just a solid object to help me reach my peak. If he could walk out of the room and leave that part of him inside me for a few minutes, I would be happy with that. His warm presence inside me was much nicer than any plastic substitute. My hips started their circling again. 

Eyes closed, I tried to imagine Steve next to me. Nope, that was no good- I just didn't think of him like that. I recalled past lovers, but it was hard to block out painful associations of heartbreaks and bitterness and loss.

Andrew pressed inside me again, trying to maintain some firmness inside me, even as he began to soften. His hand started working my nipples, gently pinching and pulling and tracing barely-there circles along my aureoles. I blushed a little to think that he knew that I usually needed that to finish. 

I had been close before, so in a matter of a minute or two, I was on the edge Andrew's hand finally moved off my ass and slid all the way up my back, along my neck, and finally into my hair. When he gently brushed it with his fingers, I slipped past the final barrier.

It was a small orgasm, a gentle and noiseless, other than a few gasps and sharp intakes of air as my head jerked up off the pillow a few times. I shivered and writhed for a minute or two afterwards, trying to stretch out the descent. Then a switch flipped in my head, and I just needed to be away from Andrew. I pulled off of him, rolled out from under the covers, and left the room. I shouted down the hall as I left, "I'll get our clothes when I do laundry after breakfast."



******* 



It was Tuesday. Andrew left for work just before 8, and my mind wandered while I did breakfast dishes. Tomorrow would be the anniversary of his daughter's death. I was torn. Part of me thought I should call in one of those shifts Moira owed me and stay here all day. I'm sure Andrew would want me available. But part of me still thought I should make plans to be away all day. We'd just had sex three times in less than 12 hours- he couldn't complain that I wasn't available enough.

After 9, my morning got busy. I got a call about coming in for an interview at a place called "Hope's Advocate." I had no memory of applying there, but I had submitted dozens of applications over the past 7 months. I looked it up- it was an shelter that specialized in caring for battered, abused, homeless, or otherwise desperate women. Their web page mentioned that they were looking for a "personal assistant to the case manager." It was vague, but I met the qualifications. And it wasn't sales. My interview was set for the following Monday morning.

I wanted to spend some time in the third bedroom, the one that looked like an office. My curiosity was still driving me to disregard any sense of Andrew's privacy. Maybe it was my twisted way of trying to violate him in retaliation for violating me.

I was barely in the room when I got a call from work. It was a slow day and they had over-scheduled the afternoon. They didn't need me to come in. I wasn't too disappointed. Thanks to my arrangement with Andrew, my paychecks and tips were just being saved up- almost every other expense was covered by a few thrusts of the hips. And a total sacrifice of dignity, loss of identity, exposure of emotional vulnerability, the humiliation of dependence, and so on. But what the hell, nothing is free, right?

The office was mostly a mess. It was probably one of those things that you plan to get around to fixing but then never do it when you have the time. Shoe boxes, folders, envelopes and file cabinets full of papers were piled up in no visible system. Old tax returns, receipts for big and small things, owner's manuals for most of the shit in the house. Every utility bill, internet contract, and credit card slip seemed to be in here.

It occurred to me that I could probably organize this very well- according to date and type of document. And in the process, I could try to learn some things. But I wouldn't risk starting that without his approval. I wouldn't risk organizing...but just looking was another thing.

There was a whole file cabinet that seemed related to his business- I didn't mess with that. I wouldn't know how to interpret those numbers, anyway. Old tax returns showed that he was doing very well on the income side of things, but bank statements didn't show a high balance, unless I was missing something. So there were some expenses I didn't know about. Alimony? Gambling? Off shore account? OK, my lack of financial savvy made it hard for me to come up with plausible theories here.

I got another call- from work again- could I come in this evening instead? Might as well. That meant I didn't need to make dinner until the afternoon. I liked that schedule. I had barely hung up when my phone rang again. Wellspring called me back to say that, while they thought I was a very qualified candidate, blah, blah, blah. No big deal- I don't think I would have taken the job anyway. I still thought giving up a secure part-time job to take a questionable full-time job wasn't a good call. I thanked them for calling to tell me- that was more courtesy than a lot of companies extended.

I dug through a shoe box full of receipts. Nothing too interesting. I pulled another shoe box out- same sort of thing. At the bottom of the box, however, was a small stack of papers stapled together. Some pages were carbon paper, different colors, lots of print with a few signatures- looked like a contract of some sort.

I flipped through it and figured out pretty quickly that it was for a burial site- a child's grave. There was the text and design of the headstone, and...yes, there at the bottom was the address of the cemetery. I jotted down the address and stuffed the paper in my pocket. I looked through a few more boxes and piles, but I didn't uncover anything interesting. Satisfied for now, I headed back downstairs.

The rest of my day was simple- cleaning, prepping dinner, and researching Hope's Advocate so that I could be an "informed applicant" and have a couple questions of my own for them. I even took a luxurious afternoon nap in my own bed. Around 4, I put some music on through the TV and began cooking. Andrew came home, gloomy. I didn't have the heart to tease him about it. He changed in his room then came right downstairs and sat at the table. Dinner was practically ready, so I put silverware and an empty plate in front of him. 

When the stove beeped, I pulled out my creation, of which I was very proud- beef, mushroom and veggie skewers- shish-kabob style. After placing a few skewers on his plate, I started munching on one myself. They were delicious. Andrew picked one up and absently started eating it. He ate four whole skewers in silence. I ate three while I was cleaning up the dishes.

I was a little put off that he hadn't said anything about the food- it was pretty damn good. But then I was disgusted with myself that I wanted his approval. O please, dear, tell me I'm doing a good job, tell me I'm a good little wife! Shall I fetch your pipe and rub your shoulders?

I left him to his brooding and went upstairs to change. I might as well head in a little bit early, maybe pick up an extra table. I bounced down the stairs, my skirt flipping up with each hop. My "uniform" was a short black skirt over tight black slacks or tights and a standard red t-shirt with our logo on it. I slipped on my black sneakers and went to the kitchen to get a drink to go.

Andrew looked up and said sleepily, "You're working?"

"They switched my shifts around today. I have to be in at 6." Because he, too, had to be at his night job at 6, Andrew looked at the clock in alarm. He relaxed when he saw that it was only just after 5. I explained, "I thought I'd go in a little early."

"But you don't need to be early right?"

"Well, technically, no..." not catching on to where this was going. I mean, we were both in the kitchen, fully dressed and needing to leave soon for work. He couldn't expect...

"Pull your pants down a little, please," he said, rising from his seat.

I was annoyed. "Andrew, come on! This is ridiculous!"

"I only need a couple minutes," he said, matter-of-factly, undoing his buckle. "I won't make you late. You'll probably still be early."

I think what bothered me the most was that he was usually fairly considerate- wanting (often in vain) for me to find some pleasure in our activities. He worked around my schedule, and nine times out of ten he was not a very demanding or selfish...not lover, but...sexual partner. I hated to be reminded that he wasn't obligated to be that way. What I was seeing in the kitchen was what I probably expected more of in this arrangement.

I hadn't moved and was still standing with my hand on the fridge. I stared at Andrew in disbelief.

"Come on," he said impatiently, beckoning me towards the empty space by the sink. I dropped my hand from the fridge and shuffled over to him, eyes wide open, pleading wordlessly for a reprieve. He took me by the hips, turned me to to face the wall, and stood behind me. I reached back and pulled my tights and panties down to mid-thigh, wiggling my hips to do so. Andrew dropped his pants to the floor, stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. Still wearing his boxer briefs, he pulled his cock out through the opening in front and flipped my skirt up.

He grabbed my hips with both hand and lifted me up, saying, "Tip-toes." I'm not short, but Andrew was at least half a foot taller than me. Then with one strong hand between my shoulder blades, he bent me down until my elbows were on the kitchen counter. 

Just an hour ago, I had been bent over this counter cooking him a meal. Now I was in nearly the same position, preparing for him to screw me. It was humiliating. Did he also want me barefoot and pregnant? Oh, God, what if something happened and I did get pregnant? What if that's his big, psycho plan? Sabotage my birth control pills after making me agree to no condoms. Have me bear a replacement for the child he lost. Crazy? Right now, nothing seemed implausible. My heart sank at the thought. I resolved to hide my pills.

At that moment, Andrew's cock, the tip of which he had apparently just lubed with a spritz of the olive oil next to us, started pressing into me. I was dry and unprepared, probably tight from the stress of the situation. Not really caring about that, he pulled back a little and pressed in again, repeating that process a few times until he was in as far as he could go. Judging by the bumping of his knees against the backs of my legs, I guessed he had to squat a bit to get into me.

Not waiting for me to relax and not taking a moment to hold inside me and enjoy the moment of entry (as he usually did), Andrew started pumping. I quickly moved my hands up against the wall to brace myself so that my hips didn't get all bruised from being banged against the counter. I imagine it was quite a sight- I was fully clothed other than my exposed ass and pussy. I grunted with each thrust, my hips hitting the counter each time until I realized I could prevent that by pushing back against him.

Once I started pushing back, his hands, which had been on my hips, pulling me back against him, moved up under the front of my shirt. He pulled the cups of my bra down so that my tits hung out. Cupping one breast in each hand, he started kneading and lightly squeezing them. I was getting nothing out of this, but he sped up.

To his credit, he had been right- starting from when he told me to pull my pants down, it had probably only taken a minute to get him inside me. And judging by the stove clock, he had only been fucking me for a minute when I could tell he was about to cum. He squeezed my breasts uncomfortably hard and started doing slower, harder thrusts. 

He straightened up his legs, which carried me an inch or so off the ground. With my feet dangling, I couldn't push back against him. So when he kept thrusting, he didn't go in and out but instead just moved my whole body with him. He solved that problem by trapping me against the counter again. It only took two more deep pushes for him to start cumming. When he did, his knees buckled a bit and he slipped out of me. Frantically trying to get back inside, he missed and his shaft went right up between my butt cheeks. 

He grabbed his still-squirting cock and lined it back up with my pussy. Thrusting back inside all the way, he groaned as a few last pulses pushed against my walls. He stayed inside me for just a moment, looking down at my ass and rubbing it appreciatively. He pulled out and tucked his penis back into his boxer briefs. I awkwardly waddled over to the bathroom- I had to get as much of his cum out of me before going to work. If I had a big wet spot on my crotch, it would be easily visible to customers and coworkers alike. I took a quick look in the mirror to make sure he hadn't squirted onto my skirt or shirt when he slipped out while cumming.

I heard him putting his pants back on and walking upstairs. Once I had finished my business, I went back to the fridge, grabbed my damn drink, and went to work, fuming.



******* 



I was glad Steve wasn't working that night. I just wasn't interested in him, and I didn't have the emotional energy to be fake nice. Unfortunately, I was a server at a restaurant and faking a smile was my bread and butter. My tips weren't very good that night. But I had enough tables that it was worth my time.

One big table- a family of 12 celebrating a kid's birthday- kept me very busy (and I was glad that tips are automatically added for large groups, and I hoped they would forget that and double tip me). It was someone from their group who made me realize that I wasn't hiding my mood. After bringing around another tray of refills, I was heading back to the kitchen when the oldest member of the group, a woman in her 70's, grabbed my elbow. Everyone else at her table was engaged in conversation and paid us no mind. She motioned for me to lean my ear in and then said, "It's boy troubles, isn't it sweetie?" 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 07



I straightened up and looked at her in shock. Taking that as a yes, she smiled and went on. "A gorgeous thing like you probably has no trouble finding a guy, but its finding the good ones that takes work. But honey, even the best ones aren't good all the time." Who was this woman? 

I smiled half-heartedly and tried to thank her and move on. She tightened her grip and pulled me in. "I've seen my fair share of good times and bad, so you listen to me: Don't expect him to be perfect, because you aren't either. It's always going to be give and get. Sometimes you give, sometimes you get. So you go home tonight and give him the ride of his life, whether you want to or not. Then you talk about what's bothering you." Her eyes sparkled and she patted my arm. I mumbled my thanks and walked briskly back to the kitchen. 

Later that evening, when she was leaving, she passed by the table where I was taking orders. She put her hand gently on my arm and said, "Give and get, honey. Give and get." It might have been the best tip I got that night.



******* 



I was glad to know that Andrew was working until 2am, so I didn't need to worry about dealing with him yet. I still wanted time to sort out my anger, my fear, my pain, and my confusion. I needed answers to questions I still hadn't yet formed.

As reluctant as I was to admit it, Andrew and my arrangement was not just business. It was a relationship. Unfortunately, it was a relationship in uncharted waters- unprecedented- no model to build off of. The nearest thing I could think of was...marriage. It was like a marriage with very traditional gender roles (oh, how my Gender Studies professor would be fuming!). So was "give-and-get" lady's advice actually what I needed to hear? 

Andrew was giving a lot- virtually all my necessities were covered. Thanks to that, I was out of debt and even saving a bit. And I gave, too, though my giving was less tangible. We had each agreed beforehand that what we would get was worth what we would give. So sometimes I need to flip up my skirt in the kitchen and give. Hell, even in sex with Andrew I had finally let myself "get" every now and then.

My train of thought was derailed when I pulled into the driveway. Andrew's car was still there. I had expected him to work all night. I tried to be silent as I entered the house and walked to my room. I paused in the hallway. Go home tonight and give him the ride of his life, whether you want to or not. I wasn't ready for that yet. There were still too many questions, too much gray. I slipped into my room and changed for bed.

It was no surprise, however, that I heard a knock, just as I was slipping out of my bra. I pulled a t-shirt over my head and said, "come in."

Andrew stepped softly into my room, looked me in the eyes and said, "I took off work for tonight."

"And you want..."

"Yes," he stated flatly.

The old lady's voice reasserted itself in my head, Whether you want to or not, honey. It's time to give.

 I pulled the shirt back off, crawled onto the bed and lay on my back. Putting my hips in the air, I slipped off my yoga pants and looked expectantly at him. He was just finishing disrobing himself and was joining me in the bed. "Could you be on top?" he asked emotionlessly.

I wanted to say, Why? So you can maintain the illusion that I'm into this? But I bit my tongue and moved over to him, straddling his waist.

It was simple and efficient. I tried getting more into it, but my mind was too cluttered and noisy, and Andrew seemed disinclined to help. Aside from even a few thrusts at the end, he barely moved. Afterwards, he was still and quiet on my bed, eyes closed, breathing slow. I was sitting at the foot of my own bed, waiting for him to get up. I thought he was drifting off and was about to ask him to leave, when he startled me with a question.

"Gina, do you really use sex to keep you from...you, know...to drown out the emotions?"

I was embarrassed by the question and the memories of some of our past encounters that it evoked. "Yeah, it distracts me, I guess. Otherwise my mind just fills up and races and starts pulling all sorts of junk to the surface. If I can focus on something physical, something tangible...it's easier to turn off that noise. It's the same reason some people overeat, get addicted to video games, or get drunk, I think." I moved over to my recliner and pulled a long t-shirt over my head. No sense baring my soul and my boobs at the same time.

"That's just so weird. It's the opposite for me. I need sex to help me feel. I get numb. Or maybe it's not even numb- it's just a shit-cloud over my head. Sex replaces some of that darkness with something hopeful and happy, even if it's just for a few minutes." 

We sat in silence for a while. 

"Gina...this week...it's just a hard week for me." I knew what he was talking about, but I couldn't let on what I knew or how I knew it. I felt a human instinct to comfort him, but I also felt a strong self-preservation instinct to keep as many walls as possible between us.

He went on, "I just don't know what to do to keep from losing my mind, and feeling close to you- even if it's just physically close sometimes- it makes a big difference."

I curled my legs up under me and felt too exposed. Reaching for a soft throw-blanket, I put it over my legs. 

"Well," I said softly, looking out the window, "I guess you can keep that in mind the next time I want to renegotiate my contract." I was a poor attempt at humor, but it was all I could manage. He didn't respond. I stared at the stars out my window and waited for a response that never came. 

That word- "sometimes"- really worried me. It's just physically close...sometimes. That wall wasn't as secure as I wanted it to be. I didn't like thinking that for him it was sometimes more than physical. Control was slipping away from me. I was OK being a conduit for his physical needs- a pathway for, and sometimes a partner in sexual satisfaction. That kind of "give-and-get" was manageable.

But to hear that he looked to me to sustain his happiness, to fight away the darkness- that unnerved me. I didn't sign up for that. I didn't have it in me to be that person.

I tried to imagine a world where Andrew and I had met under different circumstances. We wouldn't have been anything, even if there was no ring on his finger (I'd made that mistake before). I wasn't the type of woman he wanted, and he wasn't the kind of man I ended up with. We were only in this arrangement because he wanted something I could provide. And now he was saying that he was expecting something else, something I couldn't be, something I shouldn't be. 

I had my own shit-cloud over my head- one that had been chasing me for 11 years. Andrew wanted and needed someone better than that- someone who could bring sunshine to his world. I could only offer that a few minutes a day, and my version of sunlight was a poor imitation.

I closed my eyes and tried not to remember things.



******* 



I felt myself being lifted, blanket and all- strong arms making me safe. Then I was gently placed on my bed, and I felt my quilt being pulled over me. I was content. I saw a shape walk over to my recliner and sit down. Ian?



******* 



In my dream I was happy. There was light and a yard. I heard laughter in the background. Ian was home from school, Mom and Dad were teasing each other, I felt as light as air. I walked out the front door to play, but I wasn't a little girl anymore. I was grown up now, but still just as happy. I chased Ian through the yard, playing a game with no rules. He gently tackled me to the ground and we rolled together, his arms wrapped around me. Landing on my back with him on top, I looked up to see...Andrew. I reached my mouth up to kiss, my heart swelling swelling with joy. He held me in his strong arms, we kissed and rolled and laughed. I felt warmth between my legs and I started rubbing against him...



******* 



Dreams faded into wakefulness, and I realized that the warmth was from a tongue working at my entrance. I was instinctively pushing against his face. No. I couldn't do this.

I pushed his head away and sat up. "No, Andrew, no." In marriage you can always say 'no.'

 He moved back towards me and said, "Yes, Gina. Think of it as being for me, I want this." I'd heard that before from him. If it's for him, I have to say yes, according to our arrangement.

"I don't," I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

"Gina, you have to. You..."

"No, I don't," I insisted. So it was happening. I was finally at my limit and we would see where the pieces fell. We never talked about a maximum limit to the number of times I had to indulge him each week, but surely I had done enough to earn my room! I stormed through my room, holding back angry tears. I put on my work clothes and braced for a response.

"Don't do this Gina, not today." Shit. It was Wednesday. Noel had died 3 years ago, though he didn't know that I had found that out. The problem was that after last night, I couldn't let myself become his emotional crutch. I couldn't be that lifeline he was grasping about to find. I couldn't let him start to think he loved me. I snapped.

"I'M...NOT...HER!" 

I had meant it one way, but he took it another. He looked down at his ring, mouth open in shock, and yelled back, "Damn right you're not. I just want you to be you!"

 "That's not what I meant," I started huffing. "You want me to be a kind of woman that I...can't...be. You need something I can't give you. You need a woman in your life, but I'm not her, Andrew. I can't be. You'll just be disappointed if you keep trying."

He paused to take that in, then answered in a softer tone, "Gina, please. I...let's just step back. You want to bury some things and I want to get away from some things. This can work- we can help each other. You've already been more than I could have asked for. Please, just...right now, let's just...step back, and..."

"We need to step way, way back, Andrew, like back to day one. We have uncomplicated sex in exchange for this room- that's what this needs to get back to. And I don't have time for that right now." I knew I still had hours before my shift started, but I needed to be out.

"Gina, don't," he warned, looking...angry? Sad? Desperate? It was hard to tell. What would he do? Give me the silent treatment? 

I left.



******* 



It was only just 9am when I got to the coffee shop down the road. I was surprised at first to see Angelica working the morning shift, but then I realized her schedule was probably a lot like mine- all over the place. She was busy and didn't notice me at first, which suited me fine. But I did plan to talk to her that day, after I had some time to think.

Why did I say no? I wanted to believe that I was putting my foot down and asserting myself. I was forcing a discussion about how often I would allow him fuck me. I was renegotiating our contract.

But I knew that was all bluster and self-deception. Truth is, I was terrified. He was projecting some emotions onto our relationships, whether feelings for Penny or some longing to move on. And I couldn't handle that. Why couldn't I handle that? Why couldn't I let him be some love-sick puppy who got to have sex with me? What did it matter how he felt- it didn't change things, did it?

My thoughts were interrupted by Angelica picking up some dirty mugs at a nearby table. "Soooo, any juicy tidbits for me today?"

I looked up and forced a smile. "No change really."

"Hey, do you think he's gay? I hadn't thought of that, before, given the way he stares at Tabby's boobs, but maybe..."

"No. Definitely into girls. And I've got an idea."

She looked at me and smiled. "Let me take these back and go on break. I'll be right back."

Sure enough, she was back in 30 seconds, eager to listen. I told her my plan. Since it offered the chance to get Andrew on a date, she was on board. At the very least it opened the door for her to ask some direct questions and see what he said. And I hoped it would shake things up at home, maybe take some of the emotional heat off of me.

Angelica went back to work, giving me her number and kissing me on the forehead like a good friend would. Before walking away she whispered, "Next time we need to talk about where those tear stains came from." I self-consciously wiped my cheeks with a napkin. I missed having close friends. After college we all spread out, and I didn't have the energy or money to build new relationships while scratching out a living this year. But things would change- they were bound to.



******* 



Since I had an afternoon shift, I didn't have to stay too long at the coffee shop. Getting into work calmed me. There was even a super cute new server- Tristan- who provided some welcome distraction for me. He was really just eye candy- I didn't care much for his personality, which had seemed to have atrophied from lack of use. His presence was a welcome distraction that afternoon. He was obviously a player, and I wasn't usually into that type, but what the hell. Anything was better than thinking about Andrew right now.

But as far as my arrangement with Andrew was concerned, as the day progressed, I felt more and more optimistic. I would go home (when did I start calling it that?) after work, he would get back in the middle of the night, I would go to his room and try the old lady's advice: Give him the ride of his life...then talk about what's bothering you. I shuddered and laughed out loud when an uninvited image sprang to mind- an image of that ancient lady giving some shriveled old man the ride of his life. I was sure Andrew would appreciate my token initiative, a peace offering. And if he was awake enough to talk, we could set a ceiling on how often he could demand my time. He was a genuinely nice guy, he could be reasonable. And with Noel on his mind, maybe he'd be a little more pliable, too. 

 I must have still had a smile from my thoughts of geriatric whoopee, because Tristan passed me at the drink station and teased, "Well aren't you just a happy little firecracker." I walked away with a tray of drinks, swinging my hips just a little and smiled back at him, "Be careful, boy, firecrackers will burn you if you handle them the wrong way!" Yes, I smiled to myself, this would work out just fine.



******* 



I got home to find out how wrong I was. I pulled into the driveway around 630 that evening and saw my recliner in the driveway. Along with it were my suitcases and some cardboard boxes- all my stuff. Shit.

I got out of my car in disbelief and walked up to the pile of stuff. Taped to the top of my recliner (and if it had been raining on my precious recliner, so help me I would have torched his house!) was a piece of paper that simply read: Terminated for breach of contract. I crumbled up the paper and shoved it in my pocket.

I walked up to the door and found, as I suspected, that the locks had already been changed. That...bastard. I'm sure he expected a desperate phone call from me that night. Well, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. There was one thing I bet he hadn't thought of...

Because Andrew was under the illusion that I was an experienced cook, I tried to do my cooking when he wasn't home. I often burned things. The kitchen window got opened a lot- I didn't want him to smell anything suspicious when he got home. I knew it was dangerous, but I usually forgot to lock the window, which was right next to the front door. I pulled off the screen, found a place to lift, and...voila!

I climbed in ungracefully, unlocked the door and pulled my bags and boxes in. I double checked the weather forecast to make sure it was OK to leave my recliner in the driveway. No problem- cold but clear the rest of the week. After moving my things back up to my room, I went back to my car and drove it around the corner, parking it in the driveway of a house that was perpetually "For Sale." I walked back to the house, replaced the kitchen window screen, locked the door and had dinner. I was careful to erase any trace of my presence before going to bed. I showered and slipped on a flannel nightgown. I was glad the door to my room had been shut when I arrived- that way it wouldn't look suspicious for it to be shut when Andrew got home. 

I wanted to sit in my recliner and stare at the stars while I processed things. Instead, I sat in bed, sipping hot tea and thinking. I had told Andrew we should go back to day one- sex for a room. I said no to sex, so he said no to a room. It was a little childish, I thought. But he also didn't know how much I was hurting this morning and all the things that were scaring me. Monsters I can handle, intimacy terrifies me. 

The grief counselor had warned me about this a long time ago. Ian was my idol, my hero, my defender, my role model. He made me believe that men were wonderful and safe and caring, I wanted to find a guy like him when I grew up. He was the best big brother a girl could have. Nobody even knew who was driving the car he was in the night he died- all three guys were thrown from the car, none of them had worn seat belts- idiots. They weren't drunk- they were on their way to an early morning swim practice. Some sleepy driver crossed the median and knocked them clear off the road.

It was like all light had been extinguished from my world. My parents couldn't help- they were in their own darkness, one they never really shook off. The counselor told me that it would be hard to want to be close to someone again. To have your heart ripped out like that makes you never want to put it out there again. But now, I think just being close to people was hard for me, and I was so scared that Andrew was getting close to me, even if it was in a twisted way. I was afraid because if he got close, then I might want to get close, and I couldn't do that.

Sometime after 10pm my phone buzzed- I grabbed it so fast that I realized how anxious I was.

Hey, it's Tristan, I got your number from the schedule. Want to show me the right way to handle a firecracker?

 Dear God, that was so cheesy. I let it sit- no need to respond yet.



******* 



I woke up Thursday morning when the sun reached my eyes. I looked out the window down to the driveway- Andrew's car was there. He would probably sleep late- I knew he didn't need to work until noon that day. I tiptoed downstairs and fixed the quietest breakfast I could- a bowl of cereal and a banana. Then I went upstairs and pulled out something I hadn't used in a long time- a sexy, lacy, shiny red lingerie set. Give him the ride of his life...

I got all dressed up, put my nightgown back on (it was still chilly- Andrew didn't run the heat very high), and sat for a few minutes. Did I really want to do this? Was it demeaning? I finally decided that it was just being smart- I would ensure my continued living arrangements and put myself in a good position to bargain for a reasonable limit on our weekly sex sessions.

Deep breath in, big sigh out, and then off to his room. I put my ear up to his door- silence. It was almost 9, he'd probably been asleep 6 hours, that was plenty for him. I opened the door as quietly as I could, inching it open far enough to peek inside. He was asleep, I think, on his back, one arm draped over his face.

I slipped inside the room, walked to the side of the bed and slipped under the covers. I assumed I had gone unnoticed, because Andrew didn't stir. Moving my face down to his crotch, I took his soft member all the way into my mouth. I started gently sucking, rolling my tongue around slowly. I felt an instant reaction as blood flowed into his cock and warmed it up. As he got hard, I started slowly bobbing up and down, keeping a steady motion, going from the tip all the way down as far as I could. I still hadn't started using my hands- I was a little worried they would be too cold on his skin. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 07



I heard a grunt and then a hand on my head. Under the blankets, I couldn't make anything out of it, but it seemed Andrew was waking up and saying something. Time to move on, I thought.

Emerging from the covers, I tried to look sexy and confident, not embarrassed and insecure.

"Gina, what the hell? How did you..."

I put my finger on his lips (and felt silly doing that) and said "Shhh...I owe you this. We can talk later."

He had enough sense not to argue with me. Then I was ready for the big reveal. I reached to the hem of my nightgown and pulled it off in one smooth motion, thankful it didn't snag on an earring or something. I crawled on top of him and began writhing, enjoying the feel of warm skin in the chilly room. I initiated a kiss and kept my hands busy rubbing his body. He really did have a nice body, and I wondered if I would have gone for this arrangement if he had been smelly and oafish. 

Andrew got his hands involved and tentatively started rubbing my back, whispering, "Wow, Gina...wow. Beautiful and sexy. Wow." He started moving his hips up against me. I had gotten his engine going and then left his penis in the cold. It was a little cruel, but it was all a part of building the tension. I was pulling everything out of my bag of tricks this morning.

"Do you like my outfit?" I asked in a husky voice.

Staring at my chest, he hissed, "Yesss..."

"So you want me to keep it on, then?" I teased.

"I...I...can we..."

I laughed at his dilemma- loving how I looked but wanting to also have me naked, wanting to ravish me.

"How about we split the difference?" I suggested playfully. I maneuvered myself so that I could take my lace panties off, leaving my bra intact. "How's that?"

"That'll work just fine," he said, still a little stunned.

I settled on top of him so that his cock was nestled in between my outer lips. Because I was starting to get wet, sliding along his length was lubing him up pretty well. I was pushing down so that my pubic bone was pressing on him, too, which gave him enough pressure to keep him from going crazy. He helped me with gentle pushes up. Every few times I pushed down along him, I would nestle my clit against him and move around, trying to see if I would be able to enjoy this, too.

I leaned down to his face and started kissing again, at which point I think Andrew had had enough foreplay. Still exploring my tongue with his own, he grabbed my hips and moved me all the way up to his abs. Then pushing me down and wiggling me to find the right spot, he lined us up. I reached behind myself to grab his tool and make sure it was in the right place, then I let him push me down onto himself. I wiggled my hips to keep the motion going. I was wet enough and he was covered in enough of my juices to make entry no problem.

I did my best to give him the ride of his life. I squeezed my PC muscles until my groin almost cramped. I kept a steady, firm thrust going against him. Whenever he let me straighten up a bit, I waved my lace-covered breasts in front of him. I moaned in his ear and rubbed my hands all over him. I slowed down whenever he seemed close, spending a minute making out while he got under control. 

After a while, he was finished with the bra. He fumbled around my back, trying to unlatch it. I smiled and reached back, undoing it in one little motion. He pulled me to him, chest to chest, and started kissing me furiously. Breaking the kiss, he started thrusting harder and used a firm hand to pull my head next to his. "I don't like having anything between us," he whispered in my ear. I was uncomfortable with the double meaning of that statement, but he went on, "Skin- I love feeling your skin on me. It makes me feel alive. I want to just keep holding you like this." By now his whispering was getting manic, as was his thrusting. 

I did my best to keep pushing down without disrupting his rhythm. I realized that the most helpful thing I could do was just push down and hold that pressure against him while he thrust up into me. Besides, that pressing down mean that there was more pressure where I wanted it- his pubic bone rubbing my clit. I felt like I might have a shot at cumming this morning, but then he moved both hands onto my ass and with no warning started cumming hard. 

"nnGAH!...GAH!!!...MMMF...AAAGH!" He was loud and aggressive, holding me immobile at the hips. When he began to relax, I started moving my hips again, hoping to get closer myself. But Andrew pushed me off of him and onto my back. Before you could say, "give and get," he had his tongue on my clit and two fingers moving gently in and out of my pussy. It was the surprise that did it for me- that and his other hand covering my breast, squeezing a nipple lightly between the bases of two fingers while the rest of the hand cupped my boob.

I didn't think I was that close, but my cum followed his by less than a minute. I raised my hips up to his face and pushed his head down against me.

"MMMooohhHHHAndrew!! Yes!!" My legs clamped shut, which stopped his fingers from moving. His tongue, however, went rigid and pressed hard against my clit while I shuddered and jerked. I would relax for a few seconds, then shake again, my walls clamping on the fingers inside me. After a minute, I was glowing, satisfied, relaxing. I started to feel the chill again, the sweat on my face and chest starting to cool. I reached for the covers as Andrew hopped up and walked to the bathroom. As soon as he got there, he peeked out and said, "Don't go anywhere." A second later his head popped out again, "Please."

I heard him relieving himself and thought how I should probably go clean up. But the idea of a wet spot on his bed didn't bother me as much, so I stayed put. He came back, joined me under the covers and said, "So...we should talk, huh?"

"Yeah, about a few things."

"Can I start?" he asked. I was curious where this would go.

"OK."

"I'm sorry I tried to...that I was...so demanding yesterday. I think this whole arrangement is so confusing, and I'm having a hard time putting you in a category that I know how to deal with. Part of me wants to treat sex with you like I would with a...a serious girlfriend, a long-term committed thing."

"Like a marriage," I suggested.

"I didn't want to say that, but yes, since that's the only context I had for sex before you."

Wait, what? Did he just imply that he had never had sex except with his wife?

"And so that part of me wants a lot of give and take, finding joy and pleasure in the other person's pleasure. I want to be desired, I want to be wanted and lusted after, I want to be able to be safe. And I want to know that sometimes you'll choose to have sex not because you want to or have to but because I want to and you care about what I want."

"Andrew, we're..."

Not letting me interrupt, he went on, "But that's not who or what we are. And so when you keep stressing the business aspect of it- the rules of the arrangement, then I forget to treat you like a person. My needs are the only ones that matter, and you have no choice. But that makes me feel like a creep and an asshole and any other names you can come up with. As much as I stress that you have a choice in the matter, there are still times when you hate the thought of having sex with me and yet I...you're still compelled to."

I started to tear up a bit. At least he understood somewhat.

"So when you pointed out yesterday that I was reaching out to you emotionally, it was so hard to realize that you didn't want me to do that and that it really is the second kind of thing- a business arrangement- and I don't know yet how to handle that. I don't know if I'm the kind of person that can do that to you. I can't not treat you like a person. So when you left, I thought about what you said- going back to day one. Since you said no to sex, that meant no room. I was pissed and I was hurt; I moved your stuff out and called a locksmith. By the way, how did you get in?"

"Kitchen window. I open it a lot."

"For when you burn things," he stated.

"How...? You knew?" I was shocked.

"Gina, your clothes tend to carry the smell of whatever you burned. And I could tell pretty quick that you didn't know how to cook. Your computer would be sitting out with internet searches open like, 'How to baste' and 'What does saute mean?'

"You never said anything?"

"What, and risk the wrath of Gina? I was already at the top of your hit list, and you literally had me by the balls several times a week. As long as you were trying in the kitchen, I was happy. And you've gotten better, I think."

I smacked him in the arm. "You...doofus!" I laughed, my naked breast shaking. "How could you?"

"Anyway, your car?"

"Around the corner," I said. "at the house that's always for sale."

"I was planning buy that house a few years ago," he said, distantly. "It's got a nice yard, and I like this area."

Ignoring that statement, I rubbed my fingertip on his exposed chest and asked, "Sooo, would you say I just gave you the ride of your life?"

Looking at me quizzically out of the corner of his eyes, he said, "Yeah, I would have to say that was the ride of my life. I tend to think that at least once a week with you, though."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Well, then I'd like to talk about our arrangement."

He rolled onto his side, facing me, and propped his head up on his hand, elbow on the pillow. It was weird having this conversation while naked. I didn't know if it would help or hurt my cause. Deciding to risk it, I reached my hand over to his cock, which was soft and heavy, and I started gently rubbing it and cupping his balls. Andrew looked at me in disbelief, then resigned himself to his good fortune.

"As you pointed out, we never stipulated a limit to the number of times I would agree to have sex with you each week, or day, or whatever."

"Yes, I recall pointing that out," he said, dreamily, his member starting to regain its firmness.

"And it would really help me to feel comfortable here if we could add something like that."

"I think that would be very fair."

"So right now, we've said at least three times a week and never more than two days without."

"Right."

"And I've been very faithful to those terms, haven't I?" I moved my body a little closer to him. Pumping his cock to full strength. He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. "Yes, you certainly have." I told myself to find that old lady later and thank her for the advice.

"Then I would suggest a maximum of 5 times a week, including blow jobs and hand jobs."

"But..."

"With the stipulation that more than half of those five are actual fucking." I whispered the last word while rolling on top of him and sliding my still-ready vagina all the way onto his hardened cock.

"That sounds like a good plan," he whispered, almost in a spell.

"And I would also say no more than twice a day," I went on, keeping my voice soft and slow.

"That won't be a problem, usually, but I'd like to leave that flexible for...special occasions," he said, moving slowly up into me. 

"We can discuss that later," I deflected, hypnotically. "I'd also like to have the freedom to say no sometimes. If I'm upset about something or tired or sick or..." which each possibility, I slid firmly down his length.

"You're right. We're charting new ground here, and I want to treat you like a person, I want to this to be something that's not entirely cold and objective."

"Good, then..."

"How about this?" He asked, running his hands up my back. "You can say no, but you have to cash in that 'no' for a 'yes' within 24 hours. And don't do it all the time- sometimes I want you so bad I think I could tear down your door. Can we leave it that fuzzy?"

"I guess we'll have to trust each other," I said, my lips on his shoulder. "And there's one more thing. We never talked about vacation time. With the holidays coming up, I might want to go somewhere, even for a week or two."

"You'll just have to pay your rent in advance," he teased. I looked at him and smiled, not wanting to break the mood, which was working in my favor. "Sure, two weeks away sometime in the next, what, 4 months, if you stay with me that long?"

"OK, deal," and with that I pushed down hard and kissed him. I intended to ride him to completion, but he had other ideas. Rolling us over while still inside me, he said, "I'd like to add a clause," and began slow, deep thrusts.

I raised my eyebrows and said, "Hmm?" But being on the receiving ends of his driving hips made it sound more like a grunt. Regardless, he continued.

"You have to initiate at least one sex act a week," he grunted, staring into my eyes to catch my reaction.

Trying to be unfazed, I asked, "Why?"

Lowering his whole body over mine and wrapping his arms around my back in a warm embrace, he started thrusting harder- not faster- and holding deep inside me for a few seconds at the end of each thrust.

"Because it's sexy. It's awesome. It drives me crazy. And it gives you some control, so our sex life isn't always at the mercy of my desires and whims."

I kept silent for a minute while he sped up. His head was face down on the pillow, mouth next to my ear. I could hear his breathing become labored as his thighs tightened between mine. 

With a small, gaspy moan, he came again. As he started to pulse inside me, I whispered, "Deal." He groaned again.



******* 



I let him lie on top of me, and his arms around me kept him propped up enough that the closeness felt nice, not suffocating. He was mostly soft, but Andrew was big enough that, even soft he was still big enough to be inside me. His head was still on the pillow, his mouth next to my ear. He gave my ear lobe little nibbles that felt nice. I stared at the ceiling, still processing things.

"Andrew?"

"Yeah?"

"You really kicked me out," my voice sounded much more vulnerable than I intended.

"Yeah, I did."

"I didn't think you would."

"I tried being the kind of guy you tend to think I am. Or at least the kind you treat me as."

"What did you think I would do? Where would I go?"

"I thought you'd call me, angry...threatening...crying and cussing."

"And wait for me to beg?" I felt a little anger coming on.

"No. As mean as I tried to be, I couldn't really do it."

"Then what was the plan?"

"There's a key for you under the mat by the back door. I was going to apologize and tell you to let yourself in and we'd talk in the morning."

"Oh. That...that's thoughtful."

"I'm not a monster, Gina." I knew that. But monsters I could handle.

"Andrew?" 

"Yeah."

"There's one more thing I need you to do for me," I rotated my hips under him and made my voice comically lusty. 

He smiled and caressed my cheek. "What's that, gorgeous?"

"Put my God damn recliner back in my room."

Laughing, he pulled his fully soft penis out of me, kissed one of my breasts, and got out of bed. I felt...better than I had in a while. 



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 08



We had reached a new understanding, a new arrangement. I felt like a lot of the loose ends had been tied up. The only real problem now was making sure the walls stayed strong. I couldn't let myself begin to need him, and as much as possible I had to stop him from turning to me for intimacy (other than the sexual kind). 

Part of that plan was Angelica. We had conspired together that week, and on the Saturday morning after Andrew and I "renegotiated" our arrangement, the plan went into effect. On Friday evening, I took the coffee grounds out of the kitchen and hid them in my room. I knew Andrew loved his Saturday mornings- coffee and a movie. I even joined him on occasion, if the movie was right. 

When we got downstairs for breakfast, I opened the cupboard and said, "O shit, I forgot that we ran out of coffee the other day. Is tea OK?" I knew it wasn't. 

Andrew was already slipping on his shoes. "I'll be back soon," he said. 

"Oh, are you going to the store? I can give you a list of a few things..." 

"No, just the coffee shop. Want anything?" 

He was out the door. I knew he wouldn't go to the store- that would put several more steps between him and coffee. Once he was in his car, I texted Angelica. 

The package is on its way. 

A minute later I received, Oooh, 'the package.' I hope I get to open it! 

It was a little cruel, I had to admit. Andrew and I hadn't had sex since our renegotiation, this was the second day after. He was home until 6, and I didn't need to leave until 11:30. I could assume he was planning to have sex this morning, maybe on the couch during the movie. But if my plan worked...if Angelica came through for me...he'd be home confused and too scared to go near me. 

I munched a banana and waited. 

Twenty minutes later, he was back. Drinking his coffee, he went straight to the couch and started his movie. I think he forgot my muffin- that was a good sign. The movie didn't interest me, so I went to my room, folded some laundry, and shuffled around the house doing this and that for an hour. I got dressed for work and said to Andrew as the movie ended, "I might head in to work early, see if anyone wants me to take an hour for them." 

Quiet. Andrew turned his head and looked at me as he stood. 

"OK. I'll, uh...see you tomorrow, I guess." 

"Bye!" And I was out the door. I had no intentions of going to work early. I drove straight to the coffee shop and honked my horn. Angelica came running out and hopped in the car. 

"Thanks for the ride," she said, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. 

"Sooo..." 

"It worked!" she squealed, clapping her hands together. 

"Tell me," I smiled, pulling onto the main road. 

"Well, The Package showed up, and I made sure I was on the register. Nobody was behind him, thank God. He made his order, and...oh...this is for you I think," she handed me a bag. My muffin, nice. 

"Anyway, I said just what you told me to: So, I saw your wife in here the other day. And he practically jumps out of his skin. I kept going: You know, that girl that comes in here with you. I thought she was your wife, and I pointed to his ring. He looks at the ring and says, Oh, no...my wife isn't...around anymore. And then it's like he can't think of what to say, so I go on, Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, how long? And he just looked at me like I'm speaking Japanese. So no luck there. But I did ask him, So is she your girlfriend then? And he starts shifting and looking around all nervous. It was so cute, I could've just jumped his bones right there!" 

"And what did he say?" I prompted. 

"Oh, right! He said, No, she's just a friend, she rents a room in my house. And then I pushed, just like you told me to. Wait a minute, you've got a girl like that living with you and you aren't dating her? So no wife, no girlfriend...honey, I'm afraid I can't let that happen. I'm not giving you this coffee until you agree to take me out. He knew I really couldn't do that, and another customer was just walking in, so I couldn't keep teasing. He looked all uncomfortable, and I said, I'm just teasing, but seriously, you have to take me out. I wrote my number on his cup and made sure he saw it. He stared at me and then walked out without saying a word, even forgot your muffin! 

I couldn't wait to get home that night and see if he had kept the cup. Turns out I didn't need to wait. A few minutes before I got Angelica to her apartment, she got a text. It was from Andrew. Angelica squealed so loud my ears hurt. 

Thanks for the coffee this morning. Sorry I was too stunned to respond. My life is pretty messy right now, but if you don't mind just some simple conversation, how about Tuesday, early dinner? 

It worked. 

******* 

I was a few hours into my afternoon shift, where I had been casually asking around to make sure Tristan wasn't just asking out every girl in the restaurant. I couldn't find anyone else that he had talked to about a date, so when he showed up for evening shift, I was ready to talk. I had never replied to his message. 

He walked up behind me before I knew he was there. "So did I already get burned, or what?" 

"What? Didn't you get my response?" Lie. Implicit lie, but still a lie. 

"No, I thought you just ignored me." He was visibly relieved. 

"Oh, well I said I'd be happy to offer some lessons on firecrackers- but they might be costly." I actually didn't like this level of flirting. It seemed like too much show and no real substance. But it's what people do, so I had to play the game. 

"Well, as long as you're a qualified teacher, sign me up." 

"How about..." I looked up at the work schedule, "Tuesday, after our afternoon shift?" 

"That's good for me," he smiled. 

******* 

I loved and hated Saturday nights at the restaurant. Big crowds usually meant more tips, but it also meant noise and complaining and achy feet and headaches. I got home ready to crash at a little after 10. I looked at Andrew's schedule and saw he was off all day Sunday- he would be free until Monday morning. I knew I was obligated to sleep with him at some point that day, but I made some plans for the morning. I went to my drawer and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper and looked up an address. 

******* 

I was gone before Andrew woke. I left a note telling him I planned to be back by lunch time and that I wouldn't be gone after that. I drove 15 minutes in the chilly, wet November morning. Passing through large metal gates, I realized the flaw in my plan. Cemeteries are big. How was I going to find Noel's grave in all this? I got out of the car and started walking around, reading names. 

I pulled my coat tight and flipped the hood onto my head. It was just a heavy mist that sometimes became a drizzle, but in this cold weather, that was enough to be uncomfortable. In my wandering, I ran across a sign that said "Little Angels" and pointed to a section about 100 yards away. I headed over there and saw that it was graves for children- some of them died when they were just a few days old, some as old as 9 or 10. I realized that, unlike the other graves, many of which were elderly people who had lived full lives, each of these represented some sad story. What a heartbreaking place! 

I saw a grave with fresh flowers and moved towards it. Sure enough, it was for Beatrice Noel. Aside from her name and dates of birth and death, there was a simple inscription, "Long may your star shine bright," and a picture of a star like you see on Christmas decorations. Of course- she was born around Christmas, so they called her "Noel." 

Nothing about Penny, and I briefly considered trying to find a corresponding grave in the same cemetery, but the wind convinced me otherwise. 

Walking back to the car, I sat inside. Just being out of the elements warmed me considerably. It was mid-morning. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Andrew. I'm so sorry, but I have something I need to do this afternoon. I PROMISE I'll be back by dinner. There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge. 

I started my car and drove. 

******* 

Three hours later, I was standing in front of another grave. Ian's. He wasn't in any "Little Angels" section. I stood there, unsure of how to react. There were flowers there, too, but they were old, maybe a week or two. I talked to Ian for a while. I had so many questions for him- things I was sure he would have been able to answer and help me with. Ian would have been there for me. I cried, I yelled, I kicked someone else's headstone and then looked around to make sure nobody had seen me do that. 

I stood there and thought about a lot of things. I stood until my teeth chattered and my stomach complained. I promised to come back again. Andrew texted me, Is everything OK? 

No Andrew, everything is not OK. You know that. I know that. And sometimes I feel like we're the only ones who do know that, and yet we're not even talking about it. 

******* 

I got fast food on the way back- another luxury I had denied myself for too long. I listened to familiar radio stations and was awash with memories of high school and partying on weekends and doing anything to be out of the quiet house. But eventually the static came in and I had to switch stations. I was almost back at Andrew's house. 

I got in the house and put my wet coat on a hook in the laundry room. Andrew must have been in his room. I pulled a few things from the fridge and started cooking. Hamburgers, homemade macaroni and cheese, and buttered green beans. It was a meal I remembered from my childhood, a meal that suited rainy days. 

Andrew came down when he heard me clanking stuff around. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and asked if I needed help. I told him no- I wasn't sure if he was talking about dinner or other stuff. He sat on a chair in the living room, silent. He had a book in his hand, but I think he was waiting for me to talk. I wasn't ready. 

I went up to my room and changed into more comfortable clothes, then finished making dinner. 

We ate in silence for a while. Then Andrew broke the ice, "So how did the job interview go last week?" 

"No luck. But I don't think I would have taken the job anyway." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. I know I can't be too picky, but this one probably wouldn't have lasted. And if it didn't work out, then I'd be back here with you...if I hadn't already been replaced." 

He laughed lightly at that comment. "I doubt that would have happened." 

I was curious, "What happened to the other girls you told about this...offer?" 

"Well, one was over the phone, and she just hung up. One in person said she'd have to think about it, but I never heard from her again. One said she'd do it, but on the first night, she panicked before we even had our clothes off. I gave her a week to find another place. She was gone the third day." 

I thought about that for a second. Poor girl. 

"Anyway," I said, "I have another interview tomorrow at a place I think I could like." 

"Good!" 

"And...I've got a date on Tuesday evening," I tried to mention casually. 

"With Steve?" he asked, not showing any reaction. 

"No. Steve is nice, but not really my type. There's a new guy at work. Not anyone I could ever be serious with, but whatever." 

"Well, on that note..." He was fiddling with his food, clearly not sure what to say or if he should say it. It was so cute how nervous he would get about some things. "I've got a date on Tuesday, too." It hadn't even occurred to me that our dates were on the same evening. 

"Oh, really?" I teased. I knew full well, better than even he did, but I wanted to hear his version of it. 

He cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. Just a girl I met at the coffee shop down the road. It's nothing serious- I'm just taking her to dinner after work." 

"Some girl you met at the coffee shop? Sounds made up. Are you just jealous that I'm getting some extra-curricular action and you're not?" 

"What? No, she...she works at the coffee shop. She told me to ask her out. And after what you were saying about how I need a woman in my life, I thought I'd, you know...try to meet people." 

"Well, that's commendable. What's her name?" 

His eyes got wide and his face went red. He didn't know! He never got her name! Oh, this was too rich. I might have a new hobby- "try to make Andrew blush." 

He opened his mouth and stammered a bit, then admitted, "I don't know! She gave me her number, but..." 

"It was probably on her name tag. Were you not looking at her boobs?" 

"I...didn't want to be rude." Then he started to laugh at his situation. "Well, at least I know how to start our conversation on Tuesday." 

"Sooo...should I try to keep some distance Tuesday evening? In case you want to bring her back to your love nest?" 

Not even joking, he looked up and said, "No. I already told her...that...I'm not up for anything serious, just some conversation." 

"Oh Andrew. Sweet, innocent, naïve Andrew. If she asked you out and you are playing the 'I just want to talk' card, you can be sure she's going to try to get you naked. Is she cute?" Oh my, this was a fun game of 'Make Andrew Blush. 

"She's...perky? Cute. Friendly. A little aggressive." 

"Well, I hope you have a grand time futilely resisting Miss No-Name's advances." 

"And what about you and mystery man? Should I try to stay out late?" 

"No. He's going to have to work for anything he gets from me. Maybe offer me free rent or something." 

Andrew laughed. 

"Besides, even if I get the urge, I can always come back here and shag your brains out. It's less complicated that way." 

"Yes, because everything around here is simple and uncomplicated." 

I smiled. 

After a minute or two of silence, as Andrew put together another burger, he asked, "So what were you up to today? Everything OK?" 

"It was...nothing serious. I just had some personal errands to run, some things to take care of." 

"Oh, OK." I was just beginning to get Ian off my mind, but now it was all flooding back. I said nothing while I cleaned up my dishes and put away leftovers. 

"Gina?" his voice was soft. 

"Yeah?" 

"For a few...personal reasons, last week and this week are just a really rough time for me. I...I'm sorry if I'm moody and...a little dark. It'll be better in a week or two, I hope." 

"Oh. I get it. When it rains it pours, or something like that." It was hard to keep in mind that I wasn't supposed to know anything about Penny or Noel. The anniversary of Noel's death had just passed, and his 6 year anniversary with his mysteriously-absent wife would be in a few days. But as far as he knew, I had no inkling of any of that. 

"Yeah, and remember what I said about sex helping me to not feel numb?" 

"I remember, I think you're weird that way." 

"I know. And maybe I am. Or maybe you're the weird one." I stuck out my tongue at him for that comment. "In any case, I've probably been a little extra needy lately...sexually. And if you could just keep Thursday as open as you can...I really would like to be with you as much as possible. I'm taking off work that day- you don't have to do that, but...just be around...and don't say no...please?" 

I was anticipating Thursday, his anniversary, being different. I didn't expect him to take off work, but it made sense. 

"OK, I'll make sure you get some action that day. In the meantime, finish your food and come upstairs to my room. I need to forget some things tonight." 

******* 

Noticing that Andrew had just heaped another pile of mac-and-cheese on his plate, I figured I had enough time to take a shower. Afterwards, I went to my room and put on some plaid boxers and a white tank top. I could have stayed naked, but there's something nice about having a man take your clothes off of you. 

Not long after I was dressed, Andrew came to the room, looked in and said, "OK if I shower first?" 

"Yeah, go ahead," I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. 

While I waited, I sat in my recliner and looked up at the stars. I was glad the clouds were clearing so that I could enjoy the sky this evening. It was a little chilly in just a tank top, so I put on an old sweatshirt. It used to be Ian's- one of only two things I had of his. 

I looked at the stars and thought of Noel. They had her for 11 months. Was that old enough to start talking? Had Andrew heard his little girl say "Dada?" Had she taken steps, holding his fingers in her tiny hands? Or had she been sick, and did they spend 11 months watching her die? I wanted to know- I wanted to hear him talk about it. Did he talk to anybody about it? I couldn't imagine him chatting about it with the guys at the body shop. And I didn't know anything about his other job, oddly enough. I got the impression he was a night watchman. 

I wondered what he did with all his memories of Noel (and Penny?). Did they stay with him all the time? Or did he fight them back and bury them? Did they show up at unexpected times and places, triggered by a word or object? Were there things in this house that had a special history? I rubbed my arms, not for warmth but to feel the sweatshirt. 

Andrew walked into the room with a towel around his waist, rubbing his hair dry with another towel. 

"You know," he commented, "we should have sex on that recliner at some point. How far back does it recline?" 

"No," I said, sharper than I had anticipated. My teeth were clenched. "The recliner is off limits." 

"Whoa. OK. Sorry. But...did you want to be in your bed this time?" 

"Yes. But I want you to get me there." Seeing his look of confusion, I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I want you to persuade me into bed, get me worked up, seduce me, whatever. We have to have sex tonight, but I want you to get me to want it." 

"Oh! Got it. I thought you meant you wanted me to carry you," he said, a bit sheepishly. 

He walked over to me and stood there for a second. "Put the legs of the recliner up- put your feet out." I looked up at him with curiosity, doing what he said. Once my feet were fully extended and propped up on the recliner's footrest, Andrew knelt down in front of them. With his warm, clean hands, he took one of my feet and started rubbing. He put pressure on the bottom of my foot, then all around. For at least five minutes he rubbed my foot and up my calf, then switched to the other foot. I leaned back in the recliner and pulled my arms into the sweatshirt. 

Andrew was, I had to admit, very good at this. I lay there and just enjoyed the sensations, including the sight of him in just a towel, at my feet. 

He eventually moved up to rub my thighs, then worked back down to my calves again. He had been working at it for at least 15 minutes when he stood up, leaned over me, put his mouth against my ear and asked, "Would you like to come to bed?" 

Eyes closed, I smiled and said, "I guess so, but I'm not taking my clothes off." 

Surprising me, Andrew reached down and scooped me up in his arms. I squealed in surprise and tried to grab his arm, forgetting that my arms were inside the sweatshirt. The result was that I wiggled around for a second, throwing Andrew off balance. He managed to at least get me over the bed before he dropped me. He fell forward and caught himself on the bed. We both laughed at that as I wriggled my arms back into my sleeves. Andrew leaned towards the wall and turned off the light. The streetlights below made us still able to see each other, but at some angles his face was still in the shadows. 

"Well, I'm naked and you're not getting out of your clothes, so I guess that means...blow job?" He was obviously joking, but also trying to figure out my game. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 08



"I didn't say I wasn't getting out of my clothes." 

"You said..." 

"I said I'm not taking them off. If you can convince me to let you take them off, then..." 

He smiled in comprehension. "Well in that case, I should tell you that I'd love to extend that leg rub up to your hips and beautiful butt, if only I could get to them." 

Oooh, that was smart. I sighed and faked boredom. "Well, I suppose you can go ahead and take my boxers off, if you really want to." 

He slid his hands up inside the boxers and onto my cheeks. Rubbing my hips and upper thighs, he soon grabbed the waistband, hands still inside my boxers, and pulled them down. I lifted my legs out and let him continue rubbing. I rolled over onto my front and rested my head in my arms so he could rub my butt and legs. He pushed hard and worked my muscles loose. 

After a few minutes, he said, "You know, I could also give you a shoulder rub, if only I could get to your shoulders." 

I sat up and said in a fake, disaffected voice, "Proceed." 

He leaned in an kissed me softly. As he slowly pulled his mouth away, I leaned forward, trying to keep the contact. I exhaled slowly and looked up at his eyes. While we kissed, he had reached down to the bottom of my sweatshirt and lifted it up over my head. I shook my hair as he tossed the sweatshirt over onto the recliner. 

He put his hands on my arms to direct me how to turn, then started rubbing my shoulders. I hung my head and closed my eyes, hands still in my lap as I sat cross-legged on the bed. It felt heavenly. 

After a few more minutes, Andrew said, "You know, if I could get to your back, I..." 

Reaching my hand to the back of his head, I pulled him into a kiss and breathed out, "Just take me, now." 

Andrew guided me onto my back and kissed me with a vengeance. He put his hand under my shirt and rubbed my stomach and side. He kept creeping close to my breasts but never quite got to them, teasing me, I think. I rubbed my legs together, craving friction there, too. 

His hand worked down to my ass and when one of his hands was able to spread out and cover most of my curves there, I felt small- small and...safe. Here was this larger, stronger person that merged his body with mine, enjoying my body, pleasuring it and finding pleasure in it. In that moment, I felt like his. 

I had to get closer. I had to feel him on me. I reached down to the bottom of my tank top and started pulling it over my head. Andrew broke our kiss to say, "I thought you weren't going to..." 

"Shut up," I breathed out at him. He grabbed my hands and helped me take off my shirt. Andrew had been laying to my side, leaning over top of me as we kissed. Now he moved in between my legs, which I gladly spread for him. Shifting his hips a few times until his cock got nestled at my entrance, he asked, "Are you ready?" 

"Yes! Yes, I'm fucking ready! Just...aaaAGH!" 

I didn't get to finish my sentence because he pushed a few inches in. Andrew closed his eyes and shuddered at the sensation. I put my hands on his chest and gasped. We both needed this- him to remember, me to forget; him to feel, me to stop feeling. I realized that we weren't just using one another for physical pleasure, we were using each other to seek wholeness. I didn't know why Andrew thought he could find that with me, but as long as it felt like this... 

His thrusts were slow and strong and deep. My back arched and my breasts pushed against him. He reached his mouth down to kiss my neck and breasts. I put a hand on the back of his head to encourage that. My other hand explored his back, enjoying the smoothness of it. I felt the tensing and relaxing of his muscles as he pushed into me and pulled out. Over and over, hypnotically. He wasn't thrusting to seek release, it was too slow for that. He was thrusting to feel again and again the pleasure of entering and being joined with another person, with me. 

He stopped abruptly and wrapped one arm all the way around my back. Moving his knees into a kneel, he said, "Hang on to me." I tightened my grip on his back just as he pushed us up off the bed with his free arm. He pushed and balanced himself until he was kneeling, with me still connected to him, my legs extending behind him. He readjusted his legs until they were crossed beneath me, making a nice seat for me to rest in. I bent my knees and put my feet on the bed, allowing me to sink lower onto Andrew's lap. 

In that seated position, we were face to face, arms around the other to keep us from falling back. We didn't even need to thrust for a while- just being on his lap and letting my weight provide pressure at the point of our union felt nice. Every once in a while, one of us would wiggle just a bit. We kissed slowly, languidly, tenderly. We explored ears, chins, necks with our lips. Andrew pulled back and looked at me. 

"Gina, you are beautiful. You are so, so beautiful. I am...it is such a privilege to be with you." It was the sex talking, I knew. Hormones racing, mood out of control. Hell, my vagina was clamped onto his penis and was making gentle squeezes. Of course he thought I was beautiful, I was fucking him. 

The problem was, his weren't the only hormones racing at the moment. I opened my eyes and looked into his. We held still and stared deeply at each other for a few seconds and Andrew lifted his hand to caress my cheek. In an unchecked moment, I said, "Andrew? Andrew, I..." 

I'm afraid to think how I might have finished that sentence. But I didn't. Instead, I leaned forward, putting my head on his shoulder and started grinding down one to him. I had been getting close. His voice had broken into my building tension and had actually driven me further and faster towards release. I put a hand down between us and split my fingers around the spot of our joining. 

I rubbed down and up, spreading my fingers to go around the base of his cock and closing them as I pulled up to rub my clit. Only half a minute of that focused attention and I was whimpering for release. So close...so...close. It wasn't just any body making me feel this way. It was Andrew's body. Andrew, who had tasted the same darkness that I lived in, who knew what it meant to hurt. Andrew, who was trying to feel alive in the midst of overwhelming death. Andrew, who thought I was beautiful and special. I clenched my eyes shut and used both arms to grip him tight as I found my release. 

I called out his name in the midst of mindless ecstasy. I pushed down into his lap as he pushed up into me. Strong arms holding me safe, not letting me fall. My mouth at his shoulder saying over and over, "Andrew...oh!...OH!...oh, Andrew." I felt control slipping away from me. In a wash of feelings I felt like it was inevitable that we should be together, that we had been drawn together. I felt like I should be his and he should be mine. I shuddered and closed my eyes, not wanting it to end. Part of my brain was warning me that as soon as I came down from this peak, I would get scared and run, I would push him away. 

I felt Andrew readjusting his legs so that they were straight, then he leaned back onto the bed, pulling me down on top of him. Still flushed and breathing heavy, I could only push and swivel my hips a little. But that didn't matter. Andrew's hand covered my ass and pushed me down in time with his upward thrusts. His other arm held me tight against his chest, and his breathing by my ear was fast and loud. He had been waiting for me to cum, denying himself for my sake. Finding pleasure in my pleasure. 

I nibbled his earlobe, just to see what would happen. His hand moved down my back and onto my hips, pulling me hard against him. With a few small growls and heavy grunts, he started cumming. Wordless groans of happy agony as he squeezed me tight. The aftershocks of my own orgasm could still be felt at our joining, tightly pressing my walls together, enhancing his pleasure. 

As he started descending back to normal, he relaxed his grip on me and just wrapped me up in his arms. Pulling a blanket over us, he tried kissing me again, but I made a move to roll off of him. 

"No, wait. Please. I...I like the feeling of your weight on top of me. You feel so warm and...present." 

But I didn't want to be present anymore. Just like I had known I would, I started to feel an instinct of self-preservation, a desire to patch up the defenses that had broken down during those intimate moments. I gave him a minute of recovery time, then rolled off of him and onto my bed. I waddled to the bathroom to clean up. 

The sappy, weaker side of me that felt helpless hoped that he would still be in my bed and that I could cuddle against him tonight, hand on his chest, one leg draped over his. But the reasonable side wanted him out of my bed and back in his room. Sex had failed me tonight- Andrew had won. I hadn't forgotten my emotions, I had replaced them, rechanneled them. I didn't really...care...for Andrew. But my heart was wounded and reaching out and he was nearby. 

My endorphins had been pumping, creating rapturous sensations, and my heart saw him there and associated Andrew with that happiness. Our bodies trick us. You take a date to a scary movie so she will grab your arm when she jumps, thus associating you with security. You take a girl to a beautiful scenic overlook so she will associate those serene and wondrous feelings with the person next to her. Sex had fooled me, but only for a minute. 

All this went through my mind while I washed up and headed back to the room. I wished I had brought a robe. Andrew was still in my bed, under the covers, looking so...inviting. Stop it, hormones! You've had your moment, now go back into the box and stop telling me what to do! They never really listened. 

"Andrew, please leave." 

He looked at me, his smile melting away a little. He opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Swiveling his feet off the edge of the bed, he glanced around to find his towel, picked it up, and walked down the hall. I closed the door behind him. 

******* 

Crying, I pulled my blanket over to the recliner. Putting the sweatshirt and boxers back on, I curled up on the chair and looked at the stars one more time. I needed to stop thinking about Andrew now. I leaned back on the chair and remembered Ian's room. It wasn't large, but all he had in it was a bed, dresser, and this recliner, which he had saved up for a year to buy. What 14 year-old saves up for a recliner? 

When I was little, I would come in his room on clear nights and crawl into his lap. Ian was 8 years older than me, so when he was in high school, I was just seven or eight. He loved the stars and would tell me their names. Names from another world, names I didn't remember. He would show me the shapes they made. Together we would find new shapes and name new "consterlations," as I called them. "The Strawberry," "The Goofy Giraffe," "The Starfish." 

Even when I was 12, I would still sit on his lap. Ian was a grown-up then, but he never talked down to me. I would sit on his lap, feel one strong arm around me, and I would endlessly follow where the other hand was pointing. Sometimes I would fall asleep and find myself in Ian's bed- he would be lightly snoring on the recliner, keeping a tender vigil over me. I loved the nights when we would fall asleep together on the recliner. Ian would lean it back so we could see better, and I would cozy up into his chest. 

I once asked him why he liked the stars so much, and he said they were beautiful, like his little sister. He was teasing me, but I loved to hear it. So I would ask him week after week and get the same answer. One time, he was more pensive. I asked the same question, but Ian didn't smile or answer at first. Then he said softly, not really to me, "The stars are always there. No matter how dark it gets, the stars are always there. They don't let the darkness win." 

I hated cloudy nights. 

******* 

I forgot to set my alarm, but I woke up just early enough to get showered and dressed for my interview. Hope's Advocate was a...a mix of things. My guess (which later proved correct) was that it was started and run by some people who just wanted to help women, and they didn't set many limits on how they went about that. They were a battered women's shelter, a homeless shelter, a food pantry, a G.E.D. training center, a crisis pregnancy center, a free clinic- they did a little of everything, right in the middle of the city. Most people there were volunteers, but two nurses and the manager were full-time. I wasn't sure where the money came from, probably donations. 

My interview was with the manager, who was also the founder. Her name was Dottie, and I liked her. She was no-nonsense, practical, and efficient, but she loved those women with a passion. She was older-middle aged, maybe in her 50's, but she was spry and I had trouble keeping up with her. After walking me through the facility- a converted church building- she sat me down in her office, which was a mess. She said, "I'll get right to the point. I'm looking for an assistant- someone to follow me around and help keep this place running. Your job would be to do whatever I need you to do, and over time we'd see where your giftings are. The pay isn't great, but it's a livable wage. I'd want you full-time, but your hours might vary. Basic benefits are included, we'd start with a three month contract, then evaluate every six months after that. What do you think?" 

"I think you should probably ask me some questions...or something?" 

"Nonsense. Your application told me what I needed to know, and I checked everything out. You finished college, so I know you can learn. You've been living on your own for a while, so I know you're not helpless. You didn't list any family or hometown friends as references, so there's a story there. That's good- all these women come in with a story, usually a bad one, and they don't need Little Miss Pampered Princess prancing around the place. You've asked good questions since we got here, so you can think. And you've been barely scraping by at your current job, so you won't be picky about pay. Did I miss anything?" 

"Don't you want me to...like...believe in your cause, or something?" 

She softened a bit and smiled at me, "Oh, honey, I'm not worried about that. Love comes after the commitment. You stick around here a while and you'll believe it with all your heart, more than any noble do-gooder who comes knocking on my door planning to save the world with me. You can start next Monday, if you can get me the papers I need this week." 

I liked her. 

"OK. I'm in." 

******* 

I had a job! I had a job! I had a full-time, for real, grown-up, pay the bills job! 

I floated back to the car. I texted Andrew. I got a job! A few minutes later, he texted back, Are you moving out, then? 

I froze. WHY had that not occurred to me sooner? I sat in the parking lot thinking. I drove back to the house, thinking. I fixed lunch, thinking. I texted Andrew: Call me when you get a chance. 

The phone range ten minutes later. 

"Congratulations! You'll have to tell me all about it at dinner." Cheery, but not totally sincere. 

"Thanks, yeah- I'll see you for a few minutes, but I have an evening shift. I should finish out my week at the restaurant, at least." 

"So...what are your plans?" 

I had mapped out my answer. "It's going to take some time to get back on my feet. I mean, I'm not in debt anymore, but this isn't a high-paying job, and an apartment will be tough to find. Plus, I'm starting with a three month contract. If it doesn't work out at that point, I'd be in bad shape again. So...I was thinking that, if you were OK with it, I'd probably stick around until the future is a little more certain." 

Silence. "I...I would be fine with that, obviously. I...That's great Gina, good planning." A voice in my head accused me- liar! 

******* 

The rest of Monday morning went smoothly. I got paperwork together for Dottie- tax forms and background checks, basically. I showed up at the shelter shortly after lunch and she was impressed to see me back so soon. She smiled and said, "You could probably start later this week, if you want." I explained wanting to finish my week at the restaurant, which she understood. I left her office feeling confident, even a little hopeful. 

I got home in time to prepare a small dinner, then I got dressed for work. Andrew and I crossed paths in the kitchen for less than a minute. He asked some questions about my new job, which I answered in a hurry. I didn't see him again until the next day- on our respective dates. 

******* 

Tristan and I were both on duty through the afternoon. Our restaurant had a sweet deal on appetizers from 2-4, so we were busy during that time. I intentionally planned our date after a shift so that I wouldn't need to get all dressed up and worry about preparing. Instead, we just met outside after we clocked out. Tristan asked, "so, where to?" 

I had thought he might have a plan. Oh, well. I suggested the gourmet burger place that Steve had taken me to on our date the week before. As we walked up to the entrance, I saw Andrew and Angelica just sitting down inside. Shit. I guess I had really talked this place up last week. 

"You know, now that I think of it, I'm really not in a burger mood," I said. I grabbed his hand and pulled him across the street. "Let's try this place!" It was a noodle place- better than a hole in the wall, but not anywhere close to fancy. Tristan led us to a booth by the window. As we were handed menus, I realized I could look across the street and see Andrew and Angelica. Weird. Fortunately, Tristan had a face that was very, very easy to look at. 

He was a boring date. Let's talk about when Tristan played soccer at the state championships in high school (high school? Really?). Let's talk about Tristan's trip to Sweden last year. Let's talk about Tristan's day at work. I guess it was just as well. I didn't listen much, but I did stare. He had these eyes that...simmered. It's like the whole time he was talking, I could tell he was thinking about me naked. I tried to stay tuned-in enough to give appropriate comments. Oh, wow. Really? That's crazy! Sounds fun... 

And let's be honest, I couldn't avoid looking out the window now and then. I didn't realize I was being obvious about it, though, until Tristan teased, "So, it looks like you really wanted burgers after all." 

"Huh? Oh. No. I was just...looking at someone I know." 

"Who, them?" he asked, indicating Andrew and Angelica. 

"Yeah..." 

"Ex-boyfriend?" he needled. 

I straightened up and looked at him, "No, no, no, no. I...she's a friend of mine. She works at a coffee shop near my place. I'll have to remember to ask her how the date went." 

"Oh man, that reminds me of this time when I was at a coffee shop..." And so on. I looked at his hair, his squared jaw, his perfect smile. I wondered how it would feel to rub that broad chest while he was on top of me. I rubbed my thighs together under the table, squirming. What would those lips do to my nipples? That tight ass that fit so nice into his work pants- I had followed that around the room more than once. Would it fill my hands when I pulled him to me? 

I was getting caught up in my imagination and barely noticed that he had asked a question. Rather than bother answering something I hadn't heard, I changed the topic. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit distracted. I had an interview yesterday and got a new job. I'll be leaving the restaurant after this week." 

"Wow, cool! You know, I'm not planning to stay long at the restaurant either. My friend's dad has this company," blah, blah, blah. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 08



I turned my head to move my hair from my eyes, and I noticed Andrew and Angelica standing up. I called for the check. Tristan raised his eyebrow at me- did he really think I was...? Ugh. Not that I would mind, I mean. 

"I've got a morning shift tomorrow," I explained. 

"Oh," he said, sitting back. 

Tristan took care of the check, and we walked back to our restaurant, where our cars were parked. Standing at the door of my car, Tristan said, "Thanks Gina, you're a fun date." He leaned in to kiss me, and I turned my head a little, letting him get my cheek. I smiled and said, "See you later!" as I got in my car. 

******* 

OK, so I drove a little too fast to get home. Andrew's car was there already. I knew it wasn't going to happen, but what if he had brought her home? I think she would have been willing... 

I opened the door softly and relaxed when I saw Andrew in the kitchen, alone. He was making popcorn. 

"Hey!" he said, cheerily. 

"Hi!" I shot back. "How was your date?" 

"It was OK," he said. "She's nice. Her name is...Angelique? Angelina? Shit, I already forgot." I laughed at his embarrassment. "Anyway, what about you?" 

I grabbed some butter to add to the popcorn. "Tristan is...self-involved? Not much of a listener, but fun to look at." 

"Hmm. Well, plenty of fish in the sea, and all that." 

We finished making the popcorn in silence. As Andrew sprinkled some salt over the bowl, he glanced over at me and said cautiously, "So...do you want to..." 

"Oh God yes," I said. "I'll meet you upstairs." I heard his feet thumping behind me when I shouted back, "Bring the popcorn!" 

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, down the steps again. Then a few light bounces, taking 3 steps at a time on his way up. 

******* 

He had lasted over an hour in the restaurant with perky, lusty Angelica. I'm sure she was friendly but a bit brazen. I had no doubt Andrew was squirming in his seat before the burgers arrived. And my lustful daydreaming featuring Tristan's toned physique had me lubed and ready. I had planned a long bath for this evening, but since Andrew was ready and willing... 

We got to his room and did a strange dance of trying to pull off clothes. I reached for his shirt, he went for my pants, he switched to his pants...eventually we were naked, in bed, and joined at the crotch. 

It was fast and not at all tender. I think he got close after just a minute or two, so he pulled out and used his tongue to bring me further along. After a few minutes of frenzied licking that got me a little closer, I pulled his head up and said, "Get behind me." Rolling on to my side, Andrew spooned behind me, lined himself up, and thrust inside, all in a matter of seconds. I reached my hand back to his firm ass cheek and said, "Hold on a second." 

He held still inside me, but I could sense his frustration. I used my fingers to take myself the rest of the way. To Andrew's credit, he didn't move around for the whole 5 or 6 minutes of my moaning and rubbing and squeezing. I grabbed his hand with mine and brought it up to my breast, showing him how I wanted to be rubbed. His other arm went under my neck and grabbed my breasts from that angle. Leaning all the way back against him, I closed my eyes and moved my cheek up next to his. "Tell me something..." I whispered. I didn't know why I had said that. 

"Tell you what?" he gasped, not understanding me, either. 

"Just...just say things. Talk." 

He was thoughtfully quiet for a second. I'm really not sure what I expected or wanted, I just wanted to hear a voice. 

His deep baritone came softly through my fog. "Sometimes, after I leave my night watchman job, I stop on the way home. There's a field near the executive airport a few miles away. It's far enough from the city, and they turn off most of their lights at night." 

I wasn't sure where this was going, but I started moving my hips and rubbing faster. My breathing picked up and my free hand tried to find a way to touch his body. His words came slow and steady. 

"I'll pull onto a service road and drive half a mile back. And there, in the middle of the field, I stop my car, climb onto the roof, and stare at the sky." 

Oh...my...God...YES! 

"I'll look at the stars and talk to some of them. I ask them to keep fighting the darkness a little longer. And I'll close my eyes and listen, to see if they ever talk back." 

My whole body trembled and I curled forward. Andrew followed me forward, not losing the skin contact of his chest on my back. I felt my walls squeezing, clenching rapidly, happy to be holding something inside them, wanting to bring corresponding pleasure to that warmth firmness clutched within my folds. 

While I was still cumming, Andrew started thrusting. He put his hand on my mound and gently stroked it in time with his thrusts, prolonging my joy. I came down from my peak and he was just building to his. I realized why I had wanted him to talk- because when I was picturing Tristan behind me, it wasn't working. I needed to hear Andrew there. 

His thrusting sped up, predictably, and the hand that had been on my mound moved a little higher, grasping my hipbone. He began pounding me, growling and gasping. I decided to see if I my voice had any similar affect on him. Turning my face back towards his, I held his chin in my hand and said, "Andrew?" 

He opened his eyes, still frantically thrusting, and looked into mine. I knew he was close. 

I stared at him, out noses barely touching, and I said sweetly, "Cum for me, baby." 

His eyes opened wide, then clenched shut. He held his mouth open in silence, then gasped as his cock pulsed inside me. I watched his face in fascination as he came. His eyes would flutter open for a moment, then clench shut again. His mouth moved but never found words. His lips began to smile and then sneered in apparent pain. It had never occurred to me how vulnerable we are in that moment- our reactions outside our control, our senses overwhelmed and our reason shut down. We are exposed. Why would anyone share that moment with a stranger? 

It didn't occur to me until later how hypocritical that thought had been. 

******* 

Not long afterwards, still in bed, cuddled together and munching on popcorn, I asked, "Andrew, were you...thinking of Angelica just now? It's totally fine if you were, I'm just curious." 

"Angelica! That's her name!...How did you know?" 

Whoops. "There's an Angelica at the coffee shop, I assumed it was her." Good recovery. 

"Oh. Well, yes and no. It's hard to say what goes through my head during sex. Sometimes it's a rotation of several faces or fantasies. Sometimes just one. Usually there's no imagination and I'm just looking at you." 

"So...yes and no?" 

"Yeah. She had me all worked up. I don't think I even want to tell you about it- she was...clearly available. And so I thought this could be a good way to get past that. But it really didn't work. She's...just different, not appealing to me. I think she's a wonderful person- she was kind and friendly, but something was lacking." 

"Interesting." 

"Is that why you...at the end...?" 

Oh God, I did not want to talk about that. "I was just messing with you, trying to speed things up for you." 

"Well, it worked." 

"Good. I'll have to save that for another time." 

"Well, just be careful. That's live ammo you're playing with." 

"Oh, I can handle a weapon just fine," I teased. 

"I don't think you get my meaning," he said, cryptically. "Anyway, what was missing with...Angelica, I think...was that she's all sunshine and happiness." 

"And that's a bad thing? Come on, Andrew, you need a little sunshine and happiness, don't you?" 

"Well, yeah, but...the shadows, they add something. You're the art expert- what is it that shadows add?" 

He was trying to recall the word, but I knew right away. 

"Shadows add depth," I said softly. That's why Tristan was so unappealing. There was no depth. 

"Yeah, that's it. She was really nice but didn't have the depth I like." 

"So I should go to the coffee shop and tell her you think she's shallow?" He threw a piece of popcorn at my face and I flinched with a giggle. 

"I don't think she'd mind, anyway," he suggested. "She'd probably lick her lips and say that I should let her see how deep she really is." 

I laughed. I could hear her saying that. 

"So the trick, I guess, is having enough shadow, but not so much that it takes over," he said, wistfully. 

I rolled away and said below my breath, "That's why we need the stars." 

******* 

I eventually made it back to my bed and slept soundly. After my morning shift the next day, I sat at a coffee shop (not Angelica's) and read through some information packets that Dottie had given me. She wanted me to be up to speed on what the law had to say about the things we would encounter at the shelter/clinic. I had an evening shift, so I didn't want to head back until I was done working. 

During my evening shift, I thought about Andrew's request from earlier- that I be available on Thursday. He never said why, but I knew it was his anniversary. I wondered if I could squeeze some details out of him that day. I was scheduled for another afternoon-evening combo on Thursday, but I noticed that Moira was off. She owed me. I made a quick call to cash in on that favor, and she asked, "Oooh...planning a day with Tristan?" 

"No, nothing like that- I just need a day to take care of some personal things." 

"Boooring. Let Tristan take care of your 'personal things,' girl! He's yuuuummmmmy. I think he's a limited time offer, honey- act now while supplies last!" 

I laughed and said, "I'll take my chances." 

"Suit yourself. But I'll take your shifts- it's a slow week for me." 

With that taken care of, I went back to work. Tristan flirted with me a bit, which I reciprocated half-heartedly. He asked if we could go out again on Saturday. Looking at the schedule, I said yes, but he'd better have a plan this time. He winced, "ooohhh, was that strike one?" I just raised my eyebrows in response and walked away to my next table. 

******* 

Around 9pm, I got a phone call from an unfamiliar number. I stepped out the back door, waving to Steve in the kitchen, and answered. 

"Is this...Gina?" a man's voice asked. 

"Who is this?" 

"My names Ernst. I work with Andrew over at The Institute. Could you come get him?" 

"What?" Steve walked out on break to join me. 

"He's supposed to be working, but he's drunk. It's really unlike him, so I don't want to report him or anything. I asked who could drive him home and he said, 'Gina might.' So I looked up your number in his phone. I'm sorry to... 

"No, no, it's OK. I'll...be there soon. Where...where are you?" 

He gave me an address and I had Steve look it up on his phone. Jotting down directions on a napkin, I found my manager and said I had a family emergency. She pointed out that I was taking Thursday off and quitting after Friday. I assured her I'd still be in for my shift on Friday. 

"Go then. We've got enough servers for tonight." 

******* 

I drove to the "Willow Bay Institute for Mental Health," a few miles outside of the town center. It was gated and there were guards who stopped my car. One stepped out of the guard shack and walked up to my window. Not sure what to say, I went with, "I'm here to pick up Andrew." 

The guard glanced back at the shack and then asked me, "Your name?" 

"Gina." 

He motioned to the other guard, and I saw Andrew's head rise into view. The two of them helped him walk to my car and put him down in the back seat. One of them said to me, "I told him not to get on the schedule for tonight. I told him." I shrugged my shoulders in a "what-can-you-do?" motion, then drove off. 

******* 

Andrew snored through the ride home. We passed the executive airport, and on a whim, I swerved onto the first access road without a gate. I drove through bushes and trees and straight into a flat field. I stopped the car and got out. 

It really was beautiful. I opened the door and helped Andrew step out. He smiled a goofy, drunk smile, and said, "You remembered!" 

We leaned against the trunk of the car, arms clutching our elbows to stay warm. After a few minutes of star gazing, Andrew pointed up to one section and said, "There she is, my little Noel." 

My voice quivering a bit, from cold and anticipation, I asked, "You named the star Noel?" 

"Naaahh. I named my little girl Noel. Betcha didn't think your pervy...rapist...landlord used to be a daddy, didya?" His speech was slurred and slow, almost incoherent at times. He gestured wildly with his hands, his motions often not matching his words. I stayed silent. My experience with drunks told me they usually didn't need to be prompted to keep talking. 

"She died," he said, his voice cracking. "Three years ago las' week...I wasn't even there when it happened...They were driving...and this truck...it came so fast." he whispered those last words. "I don't think there was any way to stop it from happ'ning, that's what the p'lice said. 'Inevibable.' Yeah, my girl dies and it's 'inevibidle.'" 

I wiped a tear but kept silent, gazing up. 

"Penny...she was trapped, see. Trapped. Up-side-down...An'...an' she couldn't move 'til they cut her out. And she was awake. And she could hear our little girl crying...She tried to move...She tried to call out for help...She tried to sing...happy...songs..." Those last words were in a drunken sing-song voice. I shivered. Andrew was sobbing and looking up at Noel. 

"Penny wanted to name her Betty...but she was born right before Christmas...so I wanted Noel. We called her Beatrice Noel..." It was a non sequitur, but it probably made sense in his addled state. 

"And my little girl cried and cried...She was hurt...and so scared...and I wasn't there...Daddy didn't hold her...and sing to her...and chase away the darkness..." He broke down into heaving sobs. If I had shown some decency that night, I would have stopped him and put him in the car to sleep it off. But I couldn't move. 

"And Penny said the cries got quieter...and quieter...and then...she was...asleep. She yelllled and yellllled but Noel was quiet." I closed my eyes and was glad that no one had survived to tell the tale of Ian's last moments. 

"There were on an out-of-the-way road...They were goin' to a...a...pettin' farm...out of town...D'you like pettin' farms? They're fun." I nodded- he wasn't looking. 

"No one even found 'em for...thuuuurdy minutes. When they got there...Noel was gone...my brightest star..." With that, he reached both hands to the sky as if to pull the star down into his arms. 

I couldn't wait anymore. "Is Penny up there too?" 

He looked around the sky, squinting and smiling. After a half-minute of holding my breath, he said, "Naaahhh." I exhaled loudly. Penny was still alive somewhere. 

"Penny is...lost...She...she's somewhere in the darkness...I can't find her...She wen' so far away...so dark." The tears were dripping from his cheeks. So...what did that mean? He couldn't see her star that night? Or she wasn't up there? Was she in a coma? Damn his poetic imagery! 

He wiped his nose with his sleeve and seemed to come out of a trance. Putting his hand on the trunk, he wobbled a bit. He looked at me a little confused, and asked, "Gina...why...why is it so dark?" 

I hurried to his side and helped him into my back seat. I got settled into my seat and drove us home. Rather than pass out, as I had expected, Andrew just sang little kid songs. London Bridge...Row, Row, Row Your Boat...and of course, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. 

******* 

We got home just after 11, and I helped Andrew get to the downstairs bathroom. I was not going to clean up pee stains in the morning. I then led him to the couch for the night- the stairs were not going to happen in his state. 

As I settled him on the couch, he reached up and tried to pull me down onto him. 

"Stay with me," he smiled drunkenly. 

"No, Andrew, I'll see you in the morning." I tried to pull away, but he gripped my arm tight. 

"You have to. You can't leave me...Don't...don't you leave me Gina." I didn't even know if he wanted to have sex or not, but I didn't feel comfortable staying either way. 

"NO, ANDREW. Let GO!" He released me at my outburst, but he kept talking. 

"You have to...You're my...whatever you are. You're mine...You can't leave me...not tonight." 

I doubted he would remember this, but even if he did, I could at least say I was giving him a "no" that I would cash in for a "yes" the next day, as per our arrangement. 

I put a blanket over Andrew, who was already out, and I put a bottle of water on the end table, where he could see it in the morning. Then I went upstairs for a bath and a good long cry. I felt so afraid.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 09



I heard a *clunk* downstairs in the middle of the night. Andrew falling off the couch, no doubt. A few minutes later, the toilet flushed, then heavy footfalls up the steps. I closed my eyes and hoped they wouldn't come this way. They faded and Andrew's door shut. He would sleep late, I imagined. 

******* 

I had arranged for Moira to cover my shifts that day. It was Andrew and Penny's anniversary, and though I still didn't know what had happened to his wife (even after last night's drunken revelations), I knew this was a rough day at the end of a rough stretch of days. He had asked me to be as available as possible for sex. It made no sense to me- if he was numb, why wouldn't he want to stay that way? I used sex to forget, to drive away the pain. If his pain wasn't even there, then why dredge it up? I would kill to have my confusion and pain buried like that. 

But we had an arrangement, and I owed him at least two romps today- more if I agreed to his "special occasion" clause, which I was inclined to do that day if he wasn't being an ass about it all. 

I was up at a reasonable hour and I got my own breakfast ready. I considered taking Andrew breakfast in bed, but if he wasn't going to tell me anything about Thursday (even if it was what I already knew), then I wasn't going to go out of my way either. After breakfast, I got started on a long list of chores- deeper cleaning type stuff that needed to be done. 

I was halfway through re-organizing the laundry room when I heard Andrew thumping about in his room. I expected any minute to hear him bellow my name and call me in for his first fuck of the day. But he was also probably really hung-over and not quite ready yet. 

By the time Andrew came downstairs, squinting and holding his head, it was after 10 and I was done with the laundry room. I washed my hands and put some breakfast on the table for him, starting with a cup of coffee. He didn't notice that we suddenly had coffee after its mysterious disappearance on Saturday. 

He ate in silence, then went upstairs. I heard the shower running. I put a movie on, some action flick that had come out the year before. It was a few scenes in when Andrew came down the stairs again, visibly refreshed, but still not at 100%. I really didn't like not knowing at any given point if he planned to just pull my pants down and do his business. 

He joined me on the couch, and during a slow scene asked, "What happened last night?" 

"Ernst called me to pick you up. You apparently showed up drunk to work. I drove you home." While all of that was true, it only began to answer his question. 

"You met Ernst?" 

"Yeah. He said he didn't want to report you." 

"He's a good guy. So you saw my night job?" 

"Yeah, though I didn't get farther than the guard shack." 

"Did they tell you anything about it?" 

"What's to tell? Looney bin?" 

"Something like that." 

"They didn't say anything else?" 

"Just that Ernst told you not to schedule yourself for work last night." 

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll get an earful tomorrow. I didn't puke in your car or anything, did I?" 

"No. You were a perfect gentleman, right up until you tried to force me to spend the night with your drunk ass on the couch," I tried to sound nonchalant, not bitter. 

"Oh, God, I didn't." 

"Yeah. Yeah you did. I said 'no,' but I'll cash that in for a 'yes' whenever you're ready today." 

"You working later?" 

"No, I had someone cover my shifts," I mentioned casually. 

"You...you took off work? For...today?" He didn't seem to know how to process that. 

"Yeah. Maybe this is the point where I should say, 'You owe me.'" 

"Wow. So...you'll be here all day? No date or interview or mysterious errands or anything?" 

"Nothing on my calendar today except, 'Open legs upon request.'" 

"Could you do something for me now?" 

"I wondered what was taking you so long," I said, reaching down to pull unbutton my jeans. 

"No...not that...yet." He seemed unsure how to ask. "Could you just scoot over here and watch the movie next to me?" 

I closed my eyes and tried to think of a delicate way to refuse him. I wasn't his girlfriend or his wife. That was not in our future, it couldn't be. There was one shiny reason on his finger and another dark one over my own heart. Two compelling reasons. 

"Think of it as extended foreplay. We'll have sex after the movie's over, if that makes it better." 

"Oh, gee, it makes it so much better," I said sarcastically. "Fine. Just remember that this is an act, and neither of us should be fooled by this. Just two warm bodies enjoying being next to each other." 

"If you say so. I won't get attached if you don't," he teased. I almost walked out of the room after that remark. But instead I scooted myself across the couch until I was next to him. He was leaning on the side with his feet on the floor. I curled up on his other side, let him wrap his arm around me, and pulled my legs up onto the couch. Holding my head up was uncomfortable, so I rested it on his chest. It felt cozy, and I was happy to listen to his heartbeat when the movie got dull. 

It was one of those movies with several fake endings- scenes that could have been the end until they resurrect a villain and have him initiate a new and greater crisis. On about the second of those endings, I slid my hand down into Andrew's pants. I didn't fondle him or anything, I just held my hand in place over his equipment. Because I had to twist a little to accomplish that, my back was more exposed. Andrew started rubbing up and down the outside of my sweater. It felt...nice. 

When the movie ended, I started slowly pumping Andrew's cock, which had been hard for a few minutes. He closed his eyes and enjoyed my ministrations for a few minutes, then said, "Get up." 

As I stood up next to the couch, he tugged at my jeans, pulling them down to my knees. I finished the job, looking around to make sure curtains were closed all around. While I did that, Andrew pulled his sweatpants down to his knees and sat back down. I looked at him questioningly. 

"Sit on my lap," he ordered. 

With a shrug of my shoulders, I sat down on his lap, his cock sliding into my butt crack. 

"I'm not ready," I cautioned him softly. 

"I figured," he answered. Then to my utter surprise, he reached down to his pants pocket and pulled out a bottle of lube. 

"You...are carrying that around in your pocket?" I asked. 

"Not every day! Just...you know...today. Be prepared, right?" I rolled my eyes but inwardly appreciated the consideration it represented. 

He rubbed some lube onto my slit, pushing some up into me. The motion of rubbing and the sensation of being entered helped add some of my own lube to the bottled stuff. It wasn't long before I was ready. "I think you're good," he said softly. I lifted up enough to free his tool from under me, and we worked together to line it up. I sank down slowly, a lit bit at a time, pulling up a little, then sinking farther back down. I spread my legs and tried to reach the floor with my toes, but it was too far down. 

Grabbing my hips, Andrew began moving me forwards and backwards on his lap. He wasn't in very deep, so he pushed his hips up a little and continued moving me around. I put my hands in between my legs, on his knees, and used that leverage to help the cause. 

Though I never would have mentioned it, Andrew had always impressed me with his staying power. We didn't have many quickies, even when I tried to rush things along. There were times when I could tell he would have cum quickly, but he would stop and shift things around. We never had hour-long marathon porn sessions or anything, but sex almost always lasted long enough. 

That day, however, it seemed like he had other plans, at least for that first time. After only a minute, maybe two, he started his tell-tale grunting, Still holding his hips up and still pushing me forwards and backwards, he started talking in between groans. His forehead was on my back, so I could tell he was looking down. 

"Gina!...mmmmff...your ass...is...hnnnngh...amazing! Mmf! Mmf! I mean...damn!...nnngh...ohhh yeah! I just wanna...oooohhh God, Gina...aaahhhHHH!!" 

And with one upward thrust, he came. Lowering his hips and pulling me down with him, he began pulsing near my entrance, unable to get much deeper. I sat still and caught my breath, looking around to plan my next chore. 

******* 

It was almost noon and we were hungry. We made sandwiches and Andrew picked out another movie. 

"Is that your plan for the day? Movies and me?" 

"Pretty much," he said plainly. "And food." 

"Are you gonna tell me what this is all about? What's so...unique about today?" 

He seemed to consider it. "No, Gina. I don't want to unload that on you yet." 

"Whatever. Hey, would you want me to do some organizing in your office room upstairs? I've peeked in there and I think I might be able to help." I tried to make it a joke. 

Silence. Then, "No, but thanks. There's some important stuff in there that I should probably be the one to deal with." 

Oh well, it had been worth a try. 

******* 

The second movie was a sci-fi thriller, and after one particularly racy scene, Andrew paused it, found me in my room, and took me hard and fast on my bed. He had jumped on me so suddenly that I was glad he was carrying around a bottle of lube. 

A few hours later, once dinner was ready, he said he wanted some release before we ate. I bent over a soft chair in the living room and he took me from behind, my pants around my ankles. My shirt had not come off me all day. Apparently he just wanted a hole, and that only for a couple minutes each time. I wondered how I would feel about our arrangement if this is all sex was for us. I think some ways it would be worse, but in some ways, it would be easier for me to handle. 

As we ate dinner, he looked at me and a bit of the old Andrew returned- the gentle, blushing guy I was used to, not the quickie king of today. "Gina, thanks for indulging me- you've gone, 'above and beyond' today. I really appreciate it." 

Not sure how to respond, I just shrugged my shoulders and pretended to be chewing something. 

"I've got to go out for a bit this evening. I'll be back around 8, I think. I'd like you to spend the evening with me in bed." 

"Well, that's what I'm here for, I guess. Do you want me to go somewhere with you this evening?" I figured that wherever he went, it probably had something to do with Penny. 

"No...no...that won't be necessary. I need to patch some things up at work and make sure it's all OK." 

"Alright, but how are you getting there?" Gotcha! 

His eyes widened a bit, then he shook his head. "I guess I do need a ride to work, at least. You can leave me alone after that- I might be a while. Gina, I'll add another fill up to your gas card this month- thanks for taking care of me last night." 

I planned on hiding around a corner and following him after he got his car. I really wanted to get to the bottom of this. 

"You...you're a good friend, Gina." he was serious, thoughtful, pensive. 

"Andrew, I can't be your friend. You know that." 

"Well, you can say that 'til you're blue in the face, Gina, but it won't change the fact that you do a lot of nice things that you don't have to do. Last night could have been a mess- I don't remember anything from getting to work to waking up at 4am on the couch. I found water waiting for me, a blanket over me- you could have dumped me on the doorstep and no one would've blamed you. You didn't even have to pick me up. You're a good friend to me Gina. Sex aside, or maybe even more so in light of our...arrangement." 

I was tearing up, but not happy tears. "Andrew, don't you see that that's the problem? We can't do both! The more we act civil and friendly and...like a couple...the more difficult it is to maintain our arrangement. I should be treating you like shit, and I just can't bring myself to do it because I...I think we have a connection- we're both dealing with the shadows and feeling in over our heads. But I can't help you out of the hole, Andrew. I'm too deep down myself." 

"Then maybe we need to change the arrangement. Maybe we need to..." 

"No. Don't go there Andrew. You don't know me, not really. You think I'm a decent fuck and a nice girl, but that's only one little sliver of the story. If you knew..." I trailed off, not sure where to go from there. 

"I just think you sell yourself short." 

"Well maybe if I didn't, I wouldn't have gone for this arrangement, now would I?" 

He winced at that remark and looked up at the clock. 

"We should go," he said, "if you're still willing to drive me." 

"Andrew, don't be an ass. I'm not that petty." 

He raised an eyebrow at that, and I was forced to add, "OK...not usually," 

******* 

We drove in silence to The Institute. I avoided looking at the airport when we passed it, but Andrew looked longingly down the service road. Then he swung his head and looked at me in confusion. I clenched my jaw and tried to remain stoic. Andrew didn't say anything, but I was afraid he remembered something about last night. 

I pulled up to the gate, and Andrew climbed out. "You know your way back?" 

"Yeah, I remember." 

I drove down the road until I found a turn-off with bushes at the corner. Perfect. In daylight, he would be sure to see me, but after dark... 

Fifty minutes later I was regretting not bringing something to occupy my time. Then, I saw headlights heading up the road towards me. The car passed by- it was Andrew. I let him get a few hundred yards ahead, then started my car and followed him. He turned off the road at the airport, and though I was very, very tempted to follow him and sneak up on him on foot to hear what he would be saying to the stars, I knew I had to get back to the house before him, so I continued on my way. 

******* 

I got back to the house, cleaned up the dishes, and took a shower. Andrew got back a little after 8 and came upstairs, standing outside my room. From his red, puffy eyes, I could tell he had been crying. "I'm gonna shower," he told me. "Come to my room whenever." 

I was still in my towel and had been brushing my hair when he showed up. I looked down at my still wet body and thought, "Well, what the hell." I waited until I heard the water running and then walked to his room. Dropping my towel at the bathroom door, I stepped into the shower with him. 

Andrew had been washing his hair and was startled by my appearance. I reached for his bath sponge and soaped it up, moving behind him. With long, gentle strokes, I started washing his back. I turned him to face me and started doing the same to his chest, shoulders, and arms. Andrew liked his showers very hot- almost painful to me. My skin was looking a little red. 

Having washed his upper body, I moved in close to him and put the sponge on his crotch as my lips explored his chest. Rubbing around his balls and still-soft penis, I looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, and our height difference meant that I had to get on my toes to reach his lips. I stretched up and pecked his lips. Then I slowly got into a squat in front of him. 

Reaching the sponge around behind him, I washed his butt cheeks, which tensed with my touch. Then I rubbed all the way down the back of his legs and up the front. I cleaned his inner thighs and then dropped the sponge. The whole time I was on my knees, his cock had been right in front of my face. I breathed out on it, making sure he knew how close I was to it, but I never touched it except to soap it up. 

But once I dropped the sponge, I took his equipment in my hand and held it out from his body, letting the water flow over it and wash all the soap off. Once it was rinsed, I took his whole tool into my mouth and massaged it with my lips and tongue. He had gotten plenty of action that day, and so he wasn't getting hard as quickly as usual. Andrew put his hand on the top of my head and groaned softly. I liked having a soft penis in my mouth- there was more I could do with it. And it was nice that it was completely clean and smelled good. 

Inevitably, his tool hardened in my mouth. I pulled back as it did and started a slow motion, taking him in and out. One of my hands cradled his balls and rubbed them around while my other hand simply held onto his ass. After a minute or two of that very wet blow job, I disengaged, eliciting a disappointed groan from Andrew. I stood in front of him, put my hands on his chest, looked up at his eyes and whispered, "Are you done?" 

"No," he whispered back. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. His hands went up and down my back, lubricated by the water spraying on us. Then he turned me around so that my back was against him. He ran his hands all along my abdomen and breasts, even working his way up to my neck. His lips planted tender kisses on my head and ears. He reached a hand down to my slit and began working a finger across my clit, eventually dipping inside my opening. I leaned all my weight back against him and was pleased to feel him totally support me. After a minute or two of that attention, he raised his hands up to the water, rinsed them off, and said softly , "Now I'm done." 

I reached up and turned off the water. Stepping out, we each grabbed a towel and dried off. Andrew's cock was still hard, bouncing with each step and with each motion of his towel. What a funny piece of anatomy, I thought, watching it move around. 

While we were drying, Andrew grabbed a bottle of mouthwash and rinsed his mouth out. I followed suit, remembering the garlic I had put in our dinner. 

Then I grabbed his hand in mine and led him to his bed. I looked up into his eyes and asked, "How do you want me?" 

"It doesn't matter," he said with a smile. "Do you have a preference?" 

"This is your rodeo, partner- it's your special day." 

"Well, since you mentioned a rodeo..." And with that he got on his back and pulled me by the hand towards him. Catching his meaning, I started to straddle him. He stopped me and said, "No, turn around. I want to watch your beautiful ass at work."  

I jokingly rolled my eyes and complied, facing his feet. I started to rub my slit along top of his shaft. Slow, long rubs, tilting my hips to try to get some attention on my clit. Then an idea occurred to me. "I'll be right back," I said, dismounting and running down the hall. I yanked open my nightstand drawer and grabbed my small vibrator. Running back to Andrew's room, I responded to his questioning look with a shrug and a smile. "No reason I can't have a little fun, too, is there?" 

I climbed back onto Andrew, reaching under me and pointing his cock at my entrance. A few wiggles of my hips and I had him inside me. Andrew rubbed his hands on my ass and pulled at my hips, guiding my motions. He gave appreciative moans and kept whispering, "Damn" under his breath. 

Once we got a rhythm established, I turned on my vibrator and moved it along my clit. It only took a few seconds for me to cum, surprising myself and Andrew when my walls clenched around him and I squeaked with pleasure. I pulled the vibrator away and stopped moving for a few seconds while I recovered. Andrew commented, "Well, someone was ready," tracing his fingers up and down my lower back and into the top of my crack. I laughed nervously, a little embarrassed. 

I started moving again, slowly, but picking up speed. After a few minutes, I turned the vibrator back on and started rubbing around my clit. I slipped the toy down to where Andrew entered me, and I got a "Whoa, that's weird," from him. I couldn't tell if he enjoyed it or not, but I knew what I liked, so I moved it back to my clit. My thrusts sped up as another orgasm built. I came again, still pushing Andrew inside me. I leaned forward and put my elbows on the bed while I spasmed around him. He squeezed my ass cheeks, which added to my pleasure. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 09



I was able to draw out two more small orgasms while riding Andrew, thanks to my little pocket vibrator. It had been a while- years maybe- since I had used it with a partner. During my fourth cum, instead of leaning forward, I leaned back, lying on top of Andrew and looking up to the ceiling. It wasn't really possible to keep him inside me in that position, so he slipped out. I could feel his member, wet with my juices, positioned between my butt cheeks. 

Andrew rubbed my breasts, which stuck out very nicely when my shoulders were back like that. And I was young enough that my full breasts didn't yet hang to the side, but instead maintained their firmness. Andrew rubbed all around them, pulling lightly on my nipples. I put the vibrator on his nightstand and rolled onto the bed. "Now what?" I asked breathlessly. 

Wordlessly, Andrew leaned over me and started kissing my lips. Leaning on his elbow, one hand was free to touch me all over. Both my hands roamed all over his body. I love having sex after a shower- the feeling of cleanness and slight dampness on the skin is erotic to me. 

His hand ended up covering my slit, and his finger started probing me as we kissed. I was still a bit on edge after my series of orgasms, so I thought I might be able to cum again. When my hips started pushing against his finger, Andrew positioned himself on top of me and entered me again. We slipped into what I considered Andrew's standard position- him on top, one hand on my ass and one hand around my back. Our faces lined up so we could kiss. 

I thought he would be ready to finish soon, but he seemed instead to want to draw this out. So rather than the more intense thrusts I was prepared for, he began a slow, gentle rhythm. After a few gentle kisses, he put his head down next to mine and started talking. 

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, and you can try to ignore me if you want..." 

I put my hands on his butt cheeks and pulled him into me, enjoying the feeling of those muscles going taut and then relaxing, over and over. 

"Gina, you are a beautiful, sexy, wonderful woman." 

I tried moving my face into position to kiss him, not wanting to encourage him to keep talking. 

"I love being inside you, feeling this close to you, feeling safe and accepted and vulnerable." 

I tried to speed my hips up, wanting him to finish sooner. 

"I love just touching you, sharing space with you. I know you'll want to leave after this, but I absolutely love sharing a bed with you and waking up next to you at night." 

I tried to play dirty. His left hand had moved from my back and was on the pillow by my shoulder. I laced my fingers into his and fiddled around with his wedding ring. He ignored me. 

"You are smart, hard-working, and funny." 

Speeding up his thrusts a bit, he kept talking with labored breaths. 

"I know you have your own shadows, and they give you that beautiful depth. And I hope that we can get to the point where we can share those things. I feel like you might be able to understand some of my pain, and I'd like to try to understand yours." 

I started tearing up. Why couldn't he just shut up? He had to know that he had just ruined all chance of me sticking around that evening. I was going to leave as soon as I could. Forget cumming again- I was going to let him finish and then get out of there. 

"I wish we'd met under different circumstances," he said, stopping his thrusting for a moment. 

"I wouldn't have given you a second look," I said flatly, tapping his ring with my finger. 

He got my meaning and responded, "Like I said...different circumstances." 

"Are you about done?" I asked impatiently. 

"No. Not even close." He leaned down and started kissing my shoulders. I sighed, wishing he would just hurry up so I could leave. "I know you're going to run back to your room after this, so I want to prolong it. I want you here as long as possible." 

"Fine," I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He still wasn't thrusting but was instead grinding against me, peppering my upper body with kisses and licks. 

"Gina, what else happened last night?" 

"What do you mean?" I shifted underneath him. 

"Did you take me somewhere after picking me up from work? Did we talk?" 

I saw no point in denying it, and maybe getting some things out in the open would open the door to finally learning about Penny. "Yeah, I took you to the airport. You told me about Noel." 

He froze. Propping himself up in a push-up position over me, he looked me in the eyes. His tool softened a little inside me. 

"What did I tell you?" 

"You told me how she died." 

Deflated, he lowered himself onto me again and said, "I'm so sorry Gina, I shouldn't have thrown that at you...not yet." 

I tried to minimize it, "What, it's not the first sad story I've heard. People die in car accidents every day." 

"But..." 

"But nothing. It's no big deal. You don't need to hide all these secrets like they're going to hurt me or something. What happened, happened. You deal with it and move on." 

He had almost completely softened inside me, and so he started grinding again, trying to bring firmness back to his cock. 

"Move on, Gina? We never move on. Those things become a part of us, a part of who we are. We don't ever leave them behind." 

Fighting tears, I said angrily, "Well, we can sure as hell try. Anyway, can we adjust? I'm getting a little squished down here." 

"Sure," he said, and rolled onto his back, pulling me with him. He had regained his hardness and began slowly thrusting up into me. Taking control, I started bouncing fast and hard, pushing him in as deep as I could. I started making exaggerated moans and gasps, faking enjoyment, trying to speed Andrew's release. We'd been fucking for almost a half hour now and I was ready to be done. 

"Gina, you're not a good actress," he told me. I gave him a sour look. Then bending down, I put my tits in his face and pulled his head up to them. He began licking and caressing, which had the effect I intended. His thrusts sped up and he gripped my ass tighter. I writhed on top of him, rubbing skin everywhere that I could. My breathing got heavy. Damn, maybe I could cum again. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the vibrator. Adjusting my hips so I could slip a hand down between us, I flipped it on. We were too close to be able to move it around, so I straightened up. 

Andrew gazed on me. "Wow, what a sight," he said appreciatively. And it must have been. Me straddling his hips, taking his cock in me all the way to the root, moving the vibrator around my clit, breasts beading with sweat and heaving with my deep breaths. 

Andrew moved his hands all up and down my body, as much as he could reach, which was mostly from my hips to my breasts. Then he put his hands on my thighs and started massaging. Oh God, that was good. I remembered his leg rub from earlier that week- how erotic and sensual it had been. Feeling his hands rubbing both my legs while the vibrator did its thing was more than enough to take me where I wanted to be. 

I gasped and fell forward a little, putting my free hand on Andrew's chest. When he saw me start to cum, Andrew slid his hands up my thighs, along my sides, and up to my breasts. With one hand cupping each breast, he pushed up with his hips. I was sure he could feel the rapid squeezing of my walls on his tool. He exhaled and whispered, "Ohhh, that's good. Yeah..." 

Drained, I dropped the vibrator on the bed and lay on top of Andrew. I put my head on his shoulder, facing away. I didn't want to look at him and think about all the things he had said that evening. I tried to focus on the physical sensations running all through my body. 

Once I had stopped cumming, Andrew rolled us over again and began thrusting. I think he'd finally had enough and had denied his release for too long. His thrusts were urgent, manic, desperate. I knew I would be sore in the morning. He whined in frustration, so much build up and still no release. He slowed down and pulled out to just the tip. Making circles with his hips, he moved his tip around my entrance, then drove back into me a few times. He repeated that process a couple times, each deep thrust feeling like he was entering me for the first time. 

He was gasping, "I don't know if...I just...I can't..." Maybe we had had too much sex that day, or maybe the build-up had gone for too long. Andrew was having a difficult time cumming. I squeezed him tight in my passage, enjoying the fullness of his presence in me. He started thrusting again, and I tried to hold him tight inside me, hoping the added pressure would help him. It seemed to, because he started moaning and gasping. 

While he was kissing me, I put my hands on his cheeks and pushed his head back a little bit, enough to make eye contact. "Look at me, Andrew," I said softly. Still thrusting, he opened his eyes and looked at mine. "Who are you fucking, Andrew? Whose pussy is wrapped around your hard cock? Who came with you inside her?" It wasn't really dirty talk, but it got him huffing and thrusting and moaning. His eyes widened and his eyebrows went up. Not breaking eye contact, I continued softly, "Whose body is giving you this pleasure, Andrew? Who are you thrusting into? Who are you going to cum in? Are you going to cum inside me, Andrew? Are you going to..." That did it. 

"Gina! Ohh...gahhhhh!!" 

With a strangled yell of release, he pushed hard into me and closed his eyes. I felt the repeated pulse of his release. He pulled back and pressed in again, and again. I rubbed his back and mumbled in his ear, "That's it, baby, that's good. Cum inside me, baby, that's it." He continued to jerk and press into me for a few more seconds, drawing out his pleasure as long as he could. Even after he was done, he continued slowly thrusting in and out, kissing me and rubbing me all over. 

"I don't want it to end," he mused. 

"It almost didn't," I said dryly. That got a chuckle out of Andrew as he slowly pulled out of me, wincing a little at the sensitivity of his head as it slipped out of my lips. He shifted to the side and lay down on his front, his arm covering me. 

I lay there wondering how long I had to wait before I could go. Andrew, meanwhile, was alternately fiddling with my hair and rubbing my breasts. He said in a dreamy voice, "So beautiful. Sooo beautiful. I get to go to bed with such an incredibly beautiful woman. Wow." 

I kept staring up, finally lifting his hand off me and climbing out of bed. "Good night, Andrew," I offered, leaving the room. 

******* 

I figured that after Thursday's marathon sex sessions, Andrew wouldn't mind if I kept my distance on Friday and Saturday. He had to work, anyway, pulling his double shift on Friday. Things were moving back to normal. With the ominous anniversaries behind us, I hoped Andrew would be less moody and less inclined to reach out to me emotionally. 

Friday was my last shift at the restaurant, hopefully forever. I said my good-byes to the few almost-friends I had made, especially Moira and Steve, who promised to stay in touch. I wasn't optimistic about that. Tristan didn't work Friday, but we did have a date on Saturday evening. 

This time, Tristan did have a plan for our date- I felt like I was training him on how to treat a girl...sort of. But still I spent most of our time together just admiring his body and trying not to listen to his conversational meanderings. He took us to the park, and we ate at a little food stand next to the lake. It was chilly, but tolerable. Tristan tried to pepper our conversation with sexual innuendo, but I pretended not to notice. I figured I might end up sleeping with him at some point, just to enjoy that body, but I wasn't in any hurry. And I wanted him to have to work for it. 

After the park, we parted ways. "See you at work?" He asked. I paused, realizing he hadn't listened to anything I'd said, either last time or this time. "No, I quit, remember? Yesterday was my last day. I got a new job...at the shelter...?" 

"Oh, right. Well, then I'll call you later, OK?" 

I rolled my eyes as I walked away. There was definitely no future there. 

******* 

Sunday morning, I crept into Andrew's room and gave him a wake-up blow job. I was supposed to initiate one sex act a week, and it had been two days without, so I knew something would happen that day. I figured that getting him when he was just waking up decreased the chances of him talking to me. 

It didn't take long- he was already hard when I got in there. I lay on the bed, fully clothed, and fished his hard cock out of the opening in his pajama pants. Without any preliminaries, I started moving my lips up and down his shaft. My hand gripped the base to give him the feeling of being deeper in my mouth. 

As he became more and more awake, Andrew said, "Oh man, I was having an amazing dream. You were all over me...mmm...This is just what I need. Do you want to get undressed...ooohh...and come up here?" 

I pulled my mouth off and paused, "Nah. Not today." Then I resumed bringing him off with my mouth. He was already on the edge from his dream, so it only took another minute of sucking to make him cum. I usually don't mind it when a guy cums in my mouth, so I just let him release into me and swallowed it down. He didn't even notice. By the time I left the room, he was asleep again. 

******* 

On Monday, I started my new job. There was always something going on there, something to take care of. I realized that Dottie's job (and by extension, my job) was to manage the chaos. There were a bevy of volunteers at any time. Some of them were just there to lend a hand- changing bed sheets, serving food, whatever else needed to be done. And some of the volunteers were professionals- doctors volunteering a morning at the clinic, lawyers providing pro bono counsel to women in crisis, etc. Some were just there for an hour or two, some were seasoned regulars. I tried my best to remember names, but Dottie assured me that no one expected that of me just yet. 

The best part of my job, I was to learn, was just being with Dottie. That first week, especially, I was at her side all day, catching pearls of wisdom and insight that she would casually mention. She was like the mother figure I didn't realize I had been missing. 

"Don't ever do something for them that they can do for themselves. We don't want to create an atmosphere of dependence." 

"Believe their story, even if you don't. They need to know that you can be trusted before they'll let you help." 

"Don't be afraid to delegate things to volunteers...that's what they're here for. You have other things we all need you to do." And so on... 

******* 

The first few days were exhausting. I worked from 8-5, which meant that I only saw Andrew in the morning and on the evenings when he wasn't at his night job. Consequently, we didn't have sex all week. The oddness of that didn't occur to me at first- I was too busy getting acclimated to my new schedule, identity, and duties. But on Thursday evening, with Andrew home for the night, I brought it up. 

Picking up a forkful of lasagna, I casually said, "Hey, we haven't had sex in a while." I was never good at subtlety. 

"Yeah, well...Our schedules are different now, and...I thought I'd give you some space...you know, let you get adjusted to your new job. It sounds like Dottie is throwing a lot your way." 

"But we can still have sex if you want. I don't want you building up any resentment or anything. I like my recliner right where it is." 

He smiled at that, but then said seriously, "I know, but...I just want to make things easier on you, and if taking sex out of the equation for a few days helps, then that's something I'm willing to do. Not...indefinitely, of course, but maybe just for this week." 

"Sex isn't a bother, Andrew. Sex is easy and fun and fine. More often than not, I like having sex with you. I'm not faking anything. Sex is not the problem." 

"But you seem to get upset after and..." 

"Sex isn't the problem, Andrew! Sex...is not...the problem." I was almost yelling in frustration. "If we were just having sex, everything would be fine, I think. But when you start throwing all this other...stuff...at me and talking about me and turning sex into something more than just fucking, then there's a problem." 

Andrew looked down at his plate and moved his food around with his fork. He said softly, "There's no such thing as just sex, Gina, you can't..." 

"Says you!" I interrupted. "The rest of the world gets along fine with a simple, emotionless bang now and then. I think it would do you a world of good to go out and get laid by some hot girl you probably won't see again." 

His eyes narrowed, "You really think everyone is doing fine with that? You think the women you see every day at the shelter are fine with that?" 

I was enjoying my lasagna too much to storm out of the room, so I stabbed my fork into the plate. "Different circumstances, Andrew, and you know it. Besides, isn't that a bit hypocritical, coming from the guy who offered me room and board for sex? I doubt you were planning anything more than a way to get your rocks off." I had him there, and he knew it. 

"You're right. I thought it could be simple. But every day that you're here, I realize how wrong I was. Part of me hoped you would leave when you got your job, so I could stop feeling so guilty about keeping you here. I wish..." He didn't finish his thought. I waited. 

After thinking a moment, he said finally, "I started out just wanting sex and the problem is that now I only want the sex because it's with you. I'm not sure that even makes sense. But there it is." 

I let those words hang in the air for a minute. "Well," I said quietly, "Do you wanna fuck?" 

"No," he said, standing up and putting his plate in the sink. "I don't think that would be a good idea right now." 

I sat for a while, less enamored with my lasagna than I had been a minute ago. I thought about how scared I felt, and how trapped, and how confused. With my new job, I could probably set out on my own very soon. Eight weeks with Andrew meant that I had almost two months of wages and tips built up to get me started. But something held me back. I told myself it was the risk of being on my own again. I argued in my head that a new job was enough change right now, I didn't need a new place, a new roommate, and all that. I believed that staying with Andrew for a few more months was easier and it was the wise choice, letting my bank account build up for a while. I thought about ways to make this work, ways to change it, ways to fix it. 

Andrew had never pursued Angelica for a second date, which was fine, because she wasn't as interested in him as before. "He's sweet, but...boring...and not really fun," she had told me. I think removing some of the mystery of Andrew also removed much of the attraction for her. It was getting clear that setting Andrew up probably wasn't going to work. 

But if I made myself less available...I thought of the possibilities there, none of which seemed worth adding to my busy life, but if it could help redirect Andrew's neediness... 

I sent a text to Tristan: You doing anything tomorrow night? 

He replied a few minutes later: I'm up for whatever you want me to do :) 

I sent him the address of a brewery a few blocks away from me and said 11pm OK? I figured we could drink a few hours, then walk back to my place, and by the time Andrew got home, I'd show him that sex can be "just sex." Well, not show him, per se. I'd let him hear it, though... 





A Strange Arrangement Ch. 09



Tristan responded, Perfect. 

I told myself that sex with Tristan would be easy. Sex with Tristan would be fun. His body was fine and he wouldn't try to complicate things. 

I told myself that, and I tried to believe it. But part of me felt guilty about what I was about to do. I felt ashamed.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 10



My work at the shelter didn't leave me a lot of free time during the day, so I didn't think much about Tristan or Andrew on Friday. That was good, because when I did think about it, I was nervous. I didn't really want to sleep with Tristan, but it was a means to an end. And I was worried how it would affect Andrew. I hoped it would disillusion him about the kind of girl he thought I was and the kind of girl he hoped I could be. 

During the afternoon, Dottie and I were debriefing about a few cases we had processed that morning. I made some passing comment about how I didn't understand how these women could believe they really loved these men. 

Dottie stopped looking through papers and stared intently at me across her desk. She pulled off her glasses and said in a surprised voice, "Love? Who said it has anything to do with love?" 

"Well, in a lot of cases, they married these guys, they loved them, but when that love is gone, I don't know why they stick around." 

"Honey, marriage isn't about love...not at first. Love comes later." 

I thought she was joking. Love comes later? 

"Oh, what am I thinking," she said dismissively. "You're a product of the past century, when we started confusing romance and marriage. Don't they teach you these things at college?" 

"I...don't know," I admitted. Dottie loved it when people were willing to admit their ignorance. She respected it. 

"For centuries, millenia, as far back as we can tell, marriage was a social institution. There was an economic aspect, a social stability aspect. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, each party brought unique things into the arrangement and hoped to get something out of it as well." 

At the word 'arrangement' I shivered. And I could picture the old lady from the restaurant talking about "give and get, honey, give and get." 

"What mattered was the commitment. You committed to give according to what you had to offer, and you were promised to receive what you needed from your spouse. Women usually brought child-bearing and taking care of the home economy." 

"And a vagina," I added snidely. 

"True," she said, then lowered her voice and smiled, "but men brought a penis, so everyone evened out on that score." She giggled. "You'll have to pardon me, honey. I used to be a professor, and this is a bit of a hobby horse of mine." 

I kindly said, "It's fine, please go on." 

"Anyway, you weren't expected to love the person in order to marry them. A lot of times you barely even knew them. Can you imagine a honeymoon with a total stranger? It was all about getting to know each other, in bed and out." 

"Sounds like rape, if you don't like the guy." 

"And what about if the guy didn't like the girl?" she pushed back. "But nobody thought of it like that, not even the women. Sex was a social obligation, something that grew the clan, built a family. It was only recently that we started talking like our lives were strictly our own. Humans have usually held the more sensible notion that we belong to the people around us, and they belong to us. Enjoying sex was a luxury, though I dare say most people experienced that luxury, eventually." 

This was quite a lecture. I couldn't help but draw the parallels between what Dottie was describing and what Andrew and I had. 

"Love, dearie, love usually followed all that. And not the romantic love we make movies about now, that's just silliness. I'm talking about love that gives and gives and gives. And you feel free to give because they're loving you right back- you're getting what they give. That kind of love binds you to a person, even when you can't stand them sometimes." 

I closed my eyes and held back a tear. 

"So no, honey, it's not some twisted romantic idea of love that keeps these women coming back. It's the fear of losing everything- they've invested their identities, their futures, their emotions, and yes, their bodies in this relationship, and it's hard to turn your back on that kind of investment. Becoming 'one flesh' isn't just a carnal thing- it's your whole identity that merges with the other person." 

"Sounds like you're justifying the abuse they get." 

"Oh, no. There's a lot more I could say, but we've got some donors to meet downstairs in a minute. Let's just say that society was responsible to make sure each party upheld their end of the commitment. Make sure a husband provided for his family and treated them right. Make sure the wife kept the home responsibly and didn't deny her husband. What we see now is a breakdown of society's role. When we make marriage an individual thing, a private thing, a strictly romantic thing, well, we untie the ropes that hold the whole thing together. Now you think about that. I want to talk more about this when you're ready. I expect you to push back." 

She got up to leave. I sat, wanting to process it and find ways to disagree. Societies change, cultures change, right? But what if our system wasn't working? What if we had lost something important when we demanded our independence? 

"You comin', Gina?" 

I shook my head to clear it, then followed Dottie down the stairs. As we walked, she gave a last parting thought on the matter, "My problem with so many people in our day is that they won't commit if they don't love. And to that, I say, 'You can't love if you won't commit!'" 

******* 

I saw Andrew for a few minutes after I got home. He was finishing dinner and putting his shoes on. I didn't tell him about my 'date' with Tristan, lest he avoid the house that night, probably to go star gazing. Let him come home, let him hear me enjoying a meaningless fuck, and let's see what he thinks. 

As I cleaned up my room for the evening, it occurred to me that I didn't have any condoms. And I sure didn't think I could trust Tristan to be prepared. He seemed like the type who would try to talk me into going bareback on a one-night stand. I ran to the drug store down the road and picked up a few other random things, just so condoms weren't the only thing in my basket. Funny, I could have sex with a virtual stranger, but I felt self-conscious about the check-out lady knowing that, as a grown woman, I had sex. 

At 11pm, I started walking. I knew I would be late, but hey, make the guy wait. I got there at 11:20 and couldn't find Tristan. He texted me saying, Almost there. I was miffed- he was making me wait. He showed up and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. We sat at the bar, tried a few house brews, and talked about Tristan. He did ask about my new job, but any little thing I said just sparked a new Tristan-centric narrative. 

A few other girls sat near us during the night, so I felt the need to stake my claim. Putting my hand on his arm as we talked, and rubbing my foot along his calf, I made it clear that he was with me. And I think I made it clear to him that the night wouldn't end here. 

A local band was playing jazz-funk in the corner, so it was easier to prolong our stay. Conversation became staggered, and eventually we just listened to the band. 

Around 1:45am, I said, "Hey, I'm pretty buzzed, how about you?" 

His eyes were glassy; he had been drinking almost two drinks for every one I had. "Yeah, I'm..." 

"You're in no shape to drive. And neither am I, but I walked here. Let's go back to my place." 

His eyebrows went up and he gave me a goofy grin. "Excellent." 

I pulled out his credit card to cover our tab, then took his hand and led him out. The chilly mid-Novemeber air wrecked my buzz and made me a little more alert. Was I really going to do this? It was too late to back out now. 

Back at the house, I pointed out the downstairs bathroom to Tristan. "You probably need that, don't you?" 

He laughed and said, "For sure." When he was done, he sat on the couch and asked, "So do you have roommates?" 

"One. My landlord lives with me. But he's working a night shift." 

Looking at the DVDs, he asked, "A dude?" 

"Yeah, a dude." 

"Kinky. You guys ever hook up?" 

"Eww. It's a business arrangement- I rent a room from him." 

"Is he old or ugly or something?" 

"No. He's just...It's not like that Tristan. Despite what you want to believe, girls aren't looking to jump into bed with every guy they come near." 

His beer-addled brain processed that for a second and then registered disappointment. I looked at the clock, it was 2:15. Andrew would be home soon. I considered making a "Do Not Disturb" sign for my door, but if Andrew walked in on the middle of something, all the better, I thought. Let him get an eyeful. It might be hard to explain to Tristan, but I didn't plan to see him again after tonight. 

"However," I said in my best sexy voice, "I am looking to jump into bed right now. Are you staying on the couch?" 

He smiled and rose, "No, I plan to jump wherever you jump." We walked up the stairs, him right behind me, watching my ass sway. 

******* 

Tristan took control and tried to make it some kind of passionate, sexy, getting naked as quickly as possible type of thing. I wasn't really into it, but I played along. Besides, I needed Andrew to hear something when he got home. I started making loud moans as Tristan licked my nipples and rubbed my slit. 

I expected him to get right down to fucking, but he pushed me onto my back and put his face between my legs. His tongue flicked across my clit very fast, and his fingers pumped in and out of my vagina at the same pace. It was like a scene from a porno, and I wondered if any woman actually enjoyed that kind of treatment. 

But then I heard the front door close and I closed my legs around Tristan's head a little, not wanting him to hear that Andrew was home. It sounded like Andrew microwaved some food, then headed up the steps with it. As the footsteps got more audible, I began moaning...loud. 

"OOOhhh! Oh baby! Yeah! Oh, that's it! Faster! MMMF!" 

The footsteps paused. If I hadn't been listening for them, I would've missed them entirely. They resumed softly, coming closer. Yes! 

"Oh, baby! I'm going to...Oh! Oh yes! I'm cumming!" Total lie. I squeezed my legs and pulled Tristan's face into me. I might have been too rough, but it was partly revenge. He kept flicking that tongue and ramming those fingers. Andrew's presence aside, I probably would have faked it just to get that to stop. 

"Are you ready?" I asked, louder than necessary. 

"The question is, Are you ready for this?" he said, holding his hard cock. I inwardly groaned. Outwardly, I cooed, "Give it to me, but first, put this on." It had been so long since I had used one that I had almost forgotten the condom. Thankfully, it was within reach, in the nightstand. 

"Do we really need that? I trust you. Don't you trust me?" 

I stared daggers at him, but said sweetly, "House rules, honey. This firecracker doesn't bang without safety gear." I had planned that line and was proud of it. 

Putting on the condom under my supervision, he climbed over me and thrust in. I was glad I had bought lubricated condoms. Tristan had no idea how wet I wasn't. He grunted and groaned as he worked his way in. "Damn, girl, you are tight!" 

"Ohh, I think you're just so biiig," I groaned. I actually had to stop myself from laughing a few times. 

I heard soft steps walking away. He had stayed long enough to hear that there was a man in the room with me. If he had stayed two minutes longer, he could have heard the whole thing. Tristan started jack-hammering into me, bending my legs up to my chest. 

"Oooh, fuck! Oooh fuck baby! Oh, you're so hot!" And so on. Did he really need to talk the whole time? 

Nevertheless, I added my voice, hoping Andrew could hear down the hall, "Aw yeah, baby! Yes, harder! Do me baby! Harder!" I tried to think of all the porn clichés I could shout. "Fuck my pussy, baby! Just like that!" 

After a minute of the most vocal sex of my life, I saw Tristan's eyes clench shut as he sped up. Good, we could end this. I shouted, "I'm cumming baby! I'm cumming on your cock! Oh, baby!" I squeezed my walls around him for effect. Tristan pushed one more time and held himself in me. My legs were about to cramp, being pressed against my breasts for the past few minutes, but I squeezed Tristan's ass and moaned, "Ohhh, yeah! Cum with me baby, cum with me." He squeezed my breasts as he groaned and finished cumming. 

With a big sigh, Tristan pulled out, remembering to hold the condom on. I stretched my aching legs and watched him throw the condom away. "Gina, that was hot! Give me a little bit and I'll be ready to go again. Maybe you could help me out..." 

"Tristan, you're not staying the night." Gone was sexy minx Gina, sensible Gina was back in play. 

"But, baby, we could..." 

"Let's not make this something it's not, OK? We both wanted a little action, we're done now. I'm not going to get all cuddly and clingy." 

"But I'm too drunk to..." 

I already had the taxi number ready to call. Seeing no point in arguing, Tristan got dressed. While he used the bathroom, I put on my robe. I walked him downstairs and got him a glass of water while we waited. We chit-chatted about people at work until he went staggering out to the cab. He turned to me and said, "You're cool, Gina. I'm glad you get it and aren't trying to nail me down." Then he smiled and said to himself, "Ha. Nail." I stood at the doorway, watching him go. It was the last I ever saw of Tristan. 

******* 

I walked back into the house, closing the door behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Andrew standing in the dark kitchen. It was 3am. Suddenly, all of this seemed like a bad idea. 

"You used a condom, right?" 

In a slightly exasperated voice, I answered, "Yes, dad, we used a condom." 

"Come to my bed," he said firmly, and walked upstairs. 

I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course he would still be awake, and we hadn't had any sexual contact since a morning blow job 6 days earlier- twice as long as we'd ever gone without. I couldn't tell how he was feeling- Angry? Possessive? Frustrated? Just plain horny? 

I followed him up the stairs and into his room, pausing just inside the doorway. He very gently took my robe off of me and set it on the glider. Pulling his own shirt off, he stood in front of me and held my arms against my sides. He said nothing. Moving closer, he brought his face close to mine. He closed his eyes in pain and sighed. Then with no warning, he bent down and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me over to his bed. I put my arms around his neck to steady myself. 

He set me down in the middle of the bed and took his pants off. He was so very hard, so very ready. Before climbing into bed, he walked over to the nightstand, where a bottle of lube was sitting out. We was ready for this, and he wasn't going down on me, obviously. Lubing just the head of his shaft, he climbed on top of me and nestled his tip into my opening. Hand still on his tool, he moved it around in little circles, spreading the lube to prepare for entry. Then pulling his hand away and putting it on the bed beside me, he pushed into me in one long, slow, firm motion. 

I tried to remain passive and quiet the whole time. However, when he pushed in, I couldn't help but moan. This. Definitely this. I wanted this. This felt right. Damn it all, I was pretty sure I was going to be able to cum, as long as Andrew wasn't planning to finish in record time. 

For whatever reason, I resolved not to let Andrew know when I came. Then I thought about the humor in that- faking a loud orgasm an hour before with one guy and then trying to fake not having an orgasm with another guy. 

"Did you kiss him?" Andrew's question interrupted my thoughts. 

"Of course not, it was just sex. Just a..." 

His mouth on mine kept me from making my point. I didn't mind. I breathed in deep through my nose and held the back of his head. This. 

But part of me insisted on fighting back. "It was nothing, Andrew. Just a meaningless fuck for both of us. A very satisfying, meaningless fuck." 

Thrusting slowly in and out, Andrew put his mouth next to my ear and spoke softly. "One thing I love about you, Gina, is that you are a terrible liar and a horrible actress. You're just too genuine to fake anything well." 

He lifted his head up to see my reaction. My eyes were narrow slits. He went on, "There was nothing satisfying about that for you." It wasn't a question. 

"OK, so Tristan is a less than attentive partner. I don't plan to see him again, anyway" 

"I don't get what your game is, Gina. Obviously this whole night was for my...benefit. But to what end?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." I felt like he could see right through me, sometimes. It was that exposed feeling, and not my exposed body, that made me so uncomfortable with him. 

"Gina, you're lying." 

"Andrew, shut up." 

"We'll talk later," he grunted. With that he rolled over and let me lead for a while. That suited me just fine. I put my forearms on his chest and held his face in my hands, kissing when I had enough breath to do so. I took a slower pace than Andrew had been using, but I was trying to rub myself against him just right. I was getting closer...but not close enough. I pulled my knees up to his sides, hoping the different stimulation would help. After several minutes, I was hotter, but getting frustrated. 

Andrew, meanwhile, reached for a pillow and pulled it down next to our hips. He reached for another and put it on top of the first. Then he started us in a roll, ending up on top of the pillows. O God, the pillow thing! It took a few seconds of adjusting and readjusting, but we finally found the right angle. I knew instantly that this would get me there. Andrew kept the slow pace I had set, slowing it down even more by holding himself at his deepest point after each thrust. His pattern was thrust, hold, kiss, relax. Thrust, hold, kiss, relax. Some kisses made it to my mouth, some to my nipples, some to my neck... 

I was really close, but since I didn't want to let on, I pulled Andrew's head next to mine. I whispered in his ear, "Go ahead and finish whenever you're ready, I'm not that into it tonight." But I was closer than I thought. Putting my other hand on his butt, I held him in during a thrust and did a few last pushes with my hips. I came, but I held in my reaction. I winced and breathed sharply through my nose. My legs twitched but I tightened them. I instinctively squeezed Andrew with my arms. 

He pulled himself up and looked at me. "Are you OK?" 

"Leg cramp," I groaned as my head jerked a little. 

"Oh! Sorry," and he started to pull out. 

"No, don't move!" I ordered, grimacing. I breathed through clenched teeth and squeezed my legs over and over. Finally, I was on my way down. "It's fine now," I told him, and started moving my hips slowly against him. 

"Gina?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You're a horrible liar." 

I reached up and smacked his chest in frustration. "Shut up." 

"I've never known a leg cramp to make a woman's walls squeeze me like that. Leg cramp? Really?" 

I opened my eyes wide and looked at him sternly. "Shut up or we're done here," I warned, never intending to follow through on that threat. He began slowly moving in and out again. 

After cumming, I started to realize how tired I was. "Andrew...it's late." 

"I know. I'll make you a deal." 

"A deal?" 

"You stay the night in my bed, and I won't ever ask you why you did this tonight." 

"I could say 'no deal' and then just refuse to answer whenever you ask me about it." 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 10



"Yeah, but I'll keep suggesting theories until I can tell you're lying when you say 'no' to one of them." I opened my mouth to call him a name, but he went on. "I'll throw in a back rub to help you fall asleep."  

"Temmmmptinnnng." 

"And if you don't agree to stay, I'm not going to cum until the sun is out. I'm going to keep making...keep having sex with you, just to keep you here." 

"I actually almost believe you. But you had me at 'back rub.'" 

"Good, because I am so ready to cum inside you." With that, he picked up speed and intensity. Both of his hands gripped my shoulders so that my body didn't move up with his thrusts. Instead, I was pushed tight down against his cock. His whole body started moving along mine, all his weight put into his thrusts. When he came, he squeezed me so hard with his arms that I worried about cracking a rib. His voice sounded almost like he was sobbing as he pushed in. He pulled partway back so that just his head was inside me, and I felt him pulse a few times like that. Then he pushed all the way in again and kept releasing inside me. 

For some reason, I just wanted to kiss him. Pressing my lips against his and gently touching my tongue to his mouth, I held his head in my hands and kissed. And kissed and kissed and kissed. We kissed until he softened and slipped out of me. And then I held him on top of me and rubbed his back. After a few minutes, he asked, "Are you ready for your back rub?" and rolled off of me. 

"Yeah, just let me go clean up first." 

After a minute in the bathroom, I trotted back to bed and lay face down, arms crossed under my pillow. I closed my eyes and smiled. As Andrew's rough hands started rubbing up and down my back, I sighed and thought, This. Definitely this. It wasn't long before I was deep in a contented sleep. 

******* 

Sometime during the night, I felt Andrew shift in bed next to me. I rolled over and felt for him- he was on his side with his back to me. I scooted closer, pressing my breasts against his smooth back and appreciating the warmth of his body. I curled my legs up into the backs of his and slipped my arm under his much bigger arm and around to his chest. I drifted off again. 

******* 

By mid-morning, we were both starting to stir. It was Saturday, which for me meant something new- a weekend off. My new job had regular hours, Monday through Friday. I don't know if I had ever had regular weekends off since starting to work my freshman year of college. 

My every instinct was to stay in bed until my bladder or my stomach forced me out. A slightly more responsible tendency pulled the covers down a bit to start the process of getting up. But Andrew moved next to me and pulled the heavy comforter up over both of our heads. "Not yet," he groaned sleepily. He lay on his side next to me and put an arm around me. I rolled over so that I could feel him against my back while I held onto his arm. Staying in bed a little longer was fine with me. 

I don't think either of us drifted off to sleep, but neither did we really wake up for a while. We rubbed our bodies against each other, more for warmth than for anything sexual. 

Eventually, my stomach won out, and I pulled Andrew's arm off me. "Noooo," he croaked, his voice hoarse in the morning. 

"Sorry, buddy, but I'm hungry." 

"What if I give you another back rub?" 

"Not unless it's accompanied by breakfast in bed." 

I went back to my room for some clothes, then made my way to the kitchen. I was in the mood for a big breakfast, so I pulled out the bacon and started mixing pancakes. Once they were finished, I set two places and walked to the stairs. I shouted up to Andrew, "Breakfast is ready- bacon and pancakes!" 

A muffled shout replied, "I thought you said something about breakfast in bed." 

"Move it or lose it, smart ass!" 

Seeing no reason to wait, I dug in. Andrew came down not long after and joined me. True to his word, he never again mentioned that night. 

******* 

And so we went for another week. Our sexual activity leveled off at at around four times a week, two of which were usually on weekends, when we were both home during the day. It was a...comfortable arrangement. We began joking together and watching more movies together (oh, that couch!). We never went out together- that would have been too much- but everything else was easy to rationalize in my head. 

Work kept us both busy. When Thanksgiving came that Thursday, neither of us was planning to go to be with family (and neither of us talked about why). I spent that day working at the shelter with Dottie, and Andrew volunteered there, serving mashed potatoes to homeless families for 4 hours. He smiled the whole time. The kids loved hearing the funny things he called the mashed potatoes. Would you like more troll brains? Have you had enough whale blubber? Don't forget to put gravy on your alien snot! 

Dottie knew he had come with me, and she caught me alone at one point to talk. "Where'd you find this one, Gina? If it wasn't for the ring, I'd say he's a keeper!" 

"Yeah, but there is a ring," I said wistfully. 

Seeing my faraway look, Dottie got serious and warned, "Don't let your mind go down that path, dearie. You're a sharp girl. There's nothing there but trouble." 

I smiled understandingly. "I know, Dottie. I know all too well." I thought back to Gareth, the young, married professor I had been involved with my junior year. I remembered thinking how special a bond we had, how uniquely we understood each other. I remembered believing his lies about the state and future of his marriage. I remembered the passionate afternoons in hotels and on blankets at the lake. And I remembered the long, silent drive together after our slip-up. We had to go to a different city to find an abortion clinic where no one might recognize us. Yes, I knew all too well that there was trouble down that road. 

I resolved to dig a little deeper into the shoe boxes and see what I could learn about Penny. Surely there was something. A forwarding address? Was that where so much of his money went? 

When I got home that evening, I went straight to the office, only to find it locked. I didn't know when that had happened, but my guess was that Andrew had locked it up after I had suggested he let me organize it. He must have realized how vulnerable it was. The lock made me all the more determined to get in there. 

******* 

On the second Saturday after Thanksgiving, I was sitting on the couch with my legs spread, my robe splayed out on either side of me. Andrew was pumping for all he was worth, making up for four days of bad timing and crazy schedules. His hands were on the back of the couch, and the only contact our bodies had at that moment was my thighs clenching his hips and his cock filling my pussy. 

We were midway through a Bond film when one of the sex scenes got Andrew ready to go. He'd seen the movie before, so he left it playing while he got me ready and mounted me. I wasn't planning on getting off this morning, and since I hadn't seen this film before, I angled our bodies so that I could still watch. Andrew laughed but didn't mind. I did need to turn the volume up a little, though. 

After 4 or 5 scenes had passed in that position, Andrew, sweaty and breathless, looked down at me and said, "This is fun, but I don't think I can cum like this. It's too uncomfortable." 

I paused the movie and slid onto my back, still holding the remote. Andrew followed me down and renewed his thrusting. His hand was on my breast, with the other one holding my hip. He must have been very close before we shifted, because it only took another 30 seconds for him to find release. I let him finish his grunting and gasping and pulsing inside me before I resumed the movie. 

Andrew let out a breathy laugh and said, "I hope that wasn't too inconvenient for you." 

"Meh. Sometimes you get, sometimes you give. That's how it works." 

Still inside me, still caressing my breast, he thought about that, then said, "Sounds like some good relationship advice." 

The movie was close to ending, so Andrew pulled a blanket over us and stayed inside me for the final 10 minutes. I started to complain about how the fabric felt on my butt, which was not getting any help from the robe bunched up under my back. So as the credits started to roll, Andrew sat up and pulled me onto his lap. Keeping the blanket around us, he just held me there, watching names roll up the screen. 

"You should consider getting a newer couch, maybe a leather one. With two full-time jobs, I can't imagine that you don't have the money for it." 

"This couch is special." 

"Anything can be 'special.' That doesn't mean you have to make it the centerpiece of your downstairs area." 

He didn't directly respond, but instead told me, "Penny and I lost our virginity together on this couch." I knew better than to say anything. He went on. "We were less than a month away from getting married when we found this place. With both of us working, we were able to make the down payment and get approved for the loan. We started moving furniture in the hour after we signed the papers and got the keys. We bought a bed and...a few other things. We found a number of things at yard sales. A coworker of Penny's was trying to sell this couch, but when she heard we were looking for furniture, she gave it to us for free." 

I put my hand on his chest and leaned my head against him. 

"We were still living separately, and the wedding was three weeks away. Penny's parents had never approved of our marriage. They said they did, but their attitudes and actions showed their true colors. Three weeks out, they called to say they wouldn't be coming and showing public support for such a foolish mistake. My parents had just moved overseas and had recently told us they weren't sure if they could make it to the wedding, either." 

I tried to recall images from their wedding album. They seemed genuinely happy. There had been plenty of happy people there... 

"Once we got that news, Penny was devastated. Going through with a big ceremony seemed pointless. It worked out in the end- my parents came, as did most of Penny's family, who had to fly in from the other coast. Her uncle gave her away, and her sister was a bridesmaid...though she hasn't come back since...But at the time, we thought we were about to call the whole thing off. We had just moved the couch in here when her parents called us with their decision and a few other hurtful words. We sat on the couch and cried for a while." 

I wondered if he had held her on his lap, like this. 

"It was important to Penny that we wait until we were married before making love. I loved her deeply, and it was tough to wait, but I never regretted it. We dated all through college, and I was a virgin. So our wedding night was going to be the big moment. But without a wedding, the wedding night didn't seem to matter as much." 

He paused for a moment, staring straight ahead. 

"We cried for a while, then started kissing. Then the floodgates broke loose, and without even talking about it, we took off our clothes in front of each other for the first time. I was...stunned. Amazed. Speechless. That a girl like her would...that I could... 

"Anyway, we made love for the first time on this couch. It was...suitably awkward and brief. But it wasn't the last time on the couch, either. The whole "Saturday morning movie" tradition is as old as this house, and half the time we ended up doing what you and I do. And I can't swear to it, but I've a strong suspicion that Noel was conceived on this couch- during a phase when we used condoms. We didn't feel like stopping to get one, and, well...with a little bit of laziness, we created a life." 

I held still, hoping he would tell me more. 

"So no, I'm not replacing this couch any time soon. It's special. And I'd wager you'd say the same about your precious recliner, though probably for a different reason." 

Aaaaand, I was done. Getting off his lap and wrapping my robe around me, I tried to think of something either witty or snide to say. I failed at either and only succeeded with petty, saying, "Well aren't you just Mr. Know-It-All!" 

As he reached to the floor to retrieve his clothes, he asked, "Plans for the day?" 

Now that I worked all week, household chores piled up a bit more, so I answered, "The usual- laundry, clean bathrooms, cook a meal. You?" 

Standing up, clothed except for a shirt, he said, "I was thinking I might start organizing the papers in my office. A lot of that can be tossed or shredded, and the important stuff needs to be easier to find." 

Seeing an opportunity, I said, "I can help with that, if you like. I'm pretty good at that sort of thing." 

"That's alright. I'll be OK, thanks." 

For some strange reason, I had to make a lot of trips upstairs that morning. I kept passing by, hoping for a moment when Andrew wasn't in the office. Close to noon, I had my chance. He was taking a bathroom break and the office door was open. I stepped inside, grabbed two shoe boxes I hadn't looked through yet, and set them in my closet. 

That accomplished, I put together some sandwiches for lunch, took one up to my room and handed Andrew a plate in the office. He thanked me as I went into my room and shut the door. 

******* 

Both shoe boxes were a bust. One was tax statements from the first year after their marriage, including all receipts, even for a cup of coffee. Who is that meticulous? The second box was credit card and bank statements for that same period. It was only after digging through them that I rnoticed the year was clearly written on the side of the box. I put everything back and peeked out the door. Andrew was just stepping out. Seeing me, he said, "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want me to bring you one?" 

"Yeah, that'd be great- thanks." Perfect. 

As he skipped down the steps, I put the boxes back and looked for another few. Passing by all the ones with dates from before Noel died, I realized that no boxes were labeled for after that time. So I grabbed two unlabeled boxes from one side of the pile and took them over to my room. Andrew came bounding up the steps and handed me a glass of iced tea. I thanked him and went back to my room. 

Closing the door, I started sorting through a mess of things. My guess at this point was that Penny was the organized one, perhaps obsessively so, and that after she...was out of the picture, Andrew didn't keep up her system. I saw a lot of junk mail, owner's manuals, postcards- just a hodge-podge of stuff. 

The second box had some consistency. It was his pay stubs from his night job at the Institute and bank statements from a different account than his main one. I quickly ascertained that the bank account received his paychecks from the Institute and apparently nothing else that I could find. But for every deposit, there was a corresponding withdrawal, an automatic payment. And that was the only activity on that account. 

Where was that money going? The destination of the payments was a jumble of letters and numbers that didn't make sense at first. But looking at it for a few minutes, I started putting pieces together. Oh God! Oh God...I knew how to find Penny. 

With trembling hands, I jotted down some information. I put everything back in the boxes and shoved them into my closet. Then I opened my computer to do some research. With a little luck, I could go see Penny the next day. 

***** 

Author's note: I know, I know, cliff-hangers are cruel. But the last two chapters are done, and I'll stick with my habit of posting a chapter a day. So...you will get Penny's story tomorrow...and the aftermath of what Gina learns. And the day after that we see how it all ends.



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 11



I was in the field by the airport, shivering, looking at the sky. It was a clear night with no moon. I walked backwards, counting stars. Was I here to meet Penny? When did I get here? I bumped into someone, but when I turned around, no one was there. Another shadowy figure moved in my periphery, but when I turned to look- no one. In turning, I bumped a shoulder, but no one was there. I felt alone and crowded all at once. I reached my arms out- to push someone away? I find someone? 

I looked again at the stars. There were fewer. The stars were dying. They were going away. There were no clouds blocking them, the stars were...leaving us. I cried out to them to stay. I was scared. I called out for Ian to help. Only shadows, and soon even the shadows would be gone- there are no shadows without light. 

I was terrified, lost, alone. I stumbled backwards into my recliner. Why was my recliner here in the field? I curled up and cried, pushing deeper into the cushions. I drove down deeper, trying to get away. The cushions swallowed me down, but then I couldn't move and was smothered and I was terrified and I screamed. 

I was startled awake to find Andrew kneeling next to my bed. Andrew? "I heard you screaming," he said soothingly. "It's OK now, it was was a dream, Gina, just a dream." 

His hand on my shoulder was a connection back to reality and out of my dreams. I hadn't had those dreams in a long time. It took some wonderfully strong sleeping pills to get me through high school, but I'd been OK since then. 

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to ask Andrew for help, but...I shouldn't. I didn't dare. Wordlessly, he crawled into my bed beside me, facing me, both of us fully clothed. He ran his hand over my hair a few minutes until my breathing slowed. 

"Gina," he said tenderly, "who's Ian?" 

I rolled over to face the wall and closed my teary eyes. Andrew moved close behind me and put his arm around me. I slept. 

******* 

Part of me was glad that Andrew wasn't there when I woke up. I didn't know how long he had stayed- perhaps just long enough to make sure I went back to sleep. I was confused and torn. I wanted to rush down the hall and hold him, and I wanted to rush out of the house and not face him. I opted, predictably, for the "pretend nothing happened" route. 

It was early Sunday morning. My plan was to find Penny that afternoon. The problem was, I needed a plausible excuse to be gone for a few hours. And there were a few other pieces to the puzzle that I needed before I could pull off my plan. I needed to get into Andrew's closet without him noticing. I wished I had thought of that last night, when he was at work. 

I made a simple breakfast for myself and had some brunchy things ready to go for when Andrew got up later. I realized that he probably hadn't been home very long when I started having my nightmare. He'd probably sleep into the late morning. 

I pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote down questions I had. I really wasn't sure what I was going to see when I found Penny, but I wanted to get all the answers I could while I had the chance. Of course, that all assumed that my plan worked. 

Looking at the clock, I figured I had at least an hour or two before Andrew woke up. I decided to risk digging in his closet while he slept. Just in case he caught me, I pulled some clean shirts of his from the dryer and threw them over my shoulder, planning to put them in his closet. 

Slipping quietly into his room, I tiptoed over to the closet. It creaked a little when I slid the doors open, but Andrew didn't stir. I knew exactly which box I was going for, and I knew it should be on top of the pile. I quietly dug down to the middle of the box and pulled out the hand-made scrapbook-style wedding photo album. I was ready with excuses in case Andrew surprised me: I was hanging up your shirts and dropped my phone- it fell into this box. I didn't have an excuse for being caught with the album in hand, but at the last second, I realized I could cover it with his shirts. 

After putting the closet back in order, I moved towards the door with my bundle under my arm. 

"Gina?" His sleepy voice stopped me. 

"Just getting some dirty clothes out of your room, don't mind me." 

"No, I'm up, I'm up. You OK?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said nonchalantly. 

"OK. I'll be down in a little bit." 

"There'll be food waiting when you do," I said over my shoulder as I headed into the hall. My bundle ended up in my closet, and I was warming up some breakfast as Andrew came slowly down the stairs. 

"You should be all set for today. I've got a few things to do in my room this morning, and I'm going out this afternoon. I'll be back be before you leave for work." 

"Where you going?" he asked casually. 

I knew I couldn't get away with a lie- Andrew had demonstrated that several times. But I was pretty sure I could pull off a half-truth. "Moira just got engaged, and I've been wanted to catch up with her." Technically, all that was true, but that wasn't where I was going. 

He looked at me for a few seconds and I was afraid he was about to call my bluff. Then, picking up his toast, he said, "OK. I was going to hit the grocery store today, so let me know if there's anything in particular you want to research a recipe for." He finished that sentence with a smirk, and I met his smirk with a dish towel to his face. His awareness of my cooking ignorance was a secret that had only recently come out. "Jerk!" I said, with no animosity. 

I tried not to look like I was in a hurry to get to my room. I picked up a few things around the first floor, put some dishes away, wrote a grocery list, and chatted with Andrew a bit. Then I headed up the stairs to my room. Locking my door, I pulled out the wedding album and flipped through some pages until...aha! The wedding program listed the names of everyone in the wedding party. There was one bridesmaid whose last name was the same as Penny's maiden name, and in the pictures, there was a girl who looked unmistakably like a younger sister. I wrote down her name. Now with just a little luck this afternoon... 

******* 

I left the house while Andrew was out shopping. I thought my anxious state would betray me. I swear, he could see right through me sometimes. I drove as fast as I dared, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Pulling up to the gate of the Institute, I was relieved to see that Ernst was not working. Luck was with me. 

I thought back to a seemingly casual conversation with Andrew that morning. 

"So what do you do at work all night?" 

"Mostly nothing- nobody comes at night unless it's a doctor for an emergency or something." 

"Do you stop everyone?" 

"Yeah, but only to get their license and write down their name. The real security is to get past the lobby. We just keep a record of who actually does enter the premises and we make sure they all leave. We don't check on whether they should be there. That's for the people inside to handle." 

"So they check the license again? Doesn't that make you redundant?" 

"I don't think they actually ID people. They just make sure you're on the right list of family and other authorized visitors" 

It was a glaring hole in their security, I thought, one that I might point out to Andrew once all this was behind me. But it wasn't a prison or anything, more like a hospital, so I guess they weren't too concerned. 

After getting my license back, I drove through the gates and let out my breath. I hadn't even realized I was holding it. Parking was easy to find- there was a clearly marked visitor lot. I walked up to the reception area, following the signs for visitors. I had done my research, though, so I knew all the rules- what hours I could be there, how long I could stay, what I could and could not wear (no shoelaces, no bags with straps, etc.). My handbag was checked for contraband and I went to register. 

The large woman behind the counter asked for my name and for the name and ID number of the patient. Here was the big test. I gave her Penny's sister's name to identify myself, then I gave Penny's name, and the number I derived from Andrew's automatic withdrawals. She looked at her screen and then said, "Your sister's been here almost 3 years and you're just now getting here? Shame on you! I outta turn you out just for that! What kind of..." (Three years. That answers one question.) 

"It's complicated," I said, turning red. "Our parents didn't approve of her marriage and tried to keep me from getting in touch. But I finally made it across country..." I figured that if they knew her back story, then all those tidbits I had picked up from Andrew's account would make my false identity believable. 

"I still think its a shame. Her husband is in here two, three times a week, but her family...oh, no...can't be troubled to see her." (Well, that answered a few more questions.) 

"Please. I've been waiting a long time for this." 

"Don't rush me, hun. Gotsta check all the right boxes, hold on..." And with a few clicks of the mouse, she gave me a visitor badge. "In you go. Visiting lounge is third door on the right. But they won't let you in anywhere else, anyway." 

"Thank you," I said softly, moving through the door. 

"Oh, and hun...don't expect anything. When they get to the point she's at...ain't nothing you can say to 'em." 

I turned my eyes down and walked on. I could hear her calling over the intercom, "Visitor for patient 11438. Visitor for patient 11438. Please confirm." 

******* 

The visitor lounge was...sterile. It had a few soft chairs, a rounded plastic table, a wall clock, and a camera noticeably observing from the corner of the ceiling. The lights were mild and there was almost no sound. I took a seat in one of the chairs facing the door, put my bag on my lap, and waited in silence for more than five minutes. 

I rose to my feet when the door opened. Penny- I wouldn't have recognized her as the woman from Andrew's pictures- shuffled in smiling. A uniformed orderly stepped in behind her, a large woman with the build of a wrestler. I knew from the rules I had read that the visit would be supervised. 

Penny was tall, like Andrew, and very thin. Her blond hair was cut very short and she was wearing a comfortable looking outfit that was probably standard issue for patients. She was smiling, but it was an opened-mouth goofy smile that had no meaning behind it. She shuffled over to me and hugged me with loose arms. Still smiling, she said, "Hiiii!" 

I felt bad lying under these circumstances, but I had to maintain my pretense, so I said, "Hi, Penny, it's me, Donna, your sister." I felt really bad- I was just going to confuse her. 

"Hiiiiii Donna! I missed you! You look so pretty! I like your hair!" She said everything in a slow, excited voice. 

"Penny, are you OK in here? Are they treating you OK?" 

"Oh, yeah, I have a lot of friends. It's a nice place. I don't like it much. Hiiiii!" Then she hugged me again and touched my hair. "I love your hair!" 

"Penny, Andrew told me about Noel." I didn't know what else to say. I didn't think I'd be able to get answers to any of my questions from her in this state. This wasn't what I had expected. 

"Isn't she the cutest? She's our little star. Did you get to meet her?" 

"I...She..Do you know where Noel is?" 

"She's our little star! She's with Andrew right now. He's home from work today. I'll be home soon. I love your hair! Donna! I missed you!" 

I searched for something to say, something to ask. I tried to figure out a way to pierce through the fog. Andrew's words came back to me. Penny is somewhere in the darkness...I can't find her...She went so far away... Even from a few minutes with her I could tell what he meant. She was far away. Is this what losing Noel did to her? Made a completely normal, healthy woman just snap? 

"Penny, do you see Andrew a lot? Does he visit you here?" 

"Yeahhhh. He brings me presents." Her eyes sparkled. "He's so good Donna, you have to like him! I don't know why you all are so angry with us. He's one of the good ones, Donna, one of the good guys. Not like..." She stopped short, looking sad, but then smiled. "Ohhh...I love your hair!" She reached out and rubbed my hair again. I didn't bother stopping her. But as she ran her fingers through my perfectly ordinary hair, her mood changed. She looked sad. Still holding that big smile, she started crying, then the smile faded. 

"He's so sad. Donna. I'm not good enough for him. He says nice things, but I know I'm not a good wife. I lost his little girl, Donna. It's all my fault! I couldn't...I couldn't..." She was breathing fast now, panicking, looking around, body curling up in her chair. She started hyperventilating. I looked over at the orderly for guidance, but she just shrugged. 

Penny started rocking back and forth and singing a nonsense song- soft and high-pitched. It sounded like a nursery rhyme of some sort. She choked her way through it, sobbing. Then the darkness took her and she just wailed. My guess was that she had just replayed that fateful car ride in her head. 

I knew I had done the wrong thing. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just pushed Andrew to tell me or else been fine not knowing. I was messing with someone's life here. I was hurting her. I was hurting her and I was hurting Andrew. I felt toxic. 

Lacking any ideas, I leaned over to hug Penny. Still sobbing, she pushed me away with one hand. She curled up into a ball on the chair. Standing to leave, wrapped my arms around myself, leaned over her and said, "I'm sorry, Penny, I'm so sorry for everything. I..." Then I looked up at the orderly and continued to apologize, my eyes wide open with shock and helplessness. I looked at the orderly and said, "I'm sorry. I just...I'm sorry..." 

The orderly held the door open for me, and as I passed by, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "If it's any consolation, that's better than she usually does. You actually got some real sentences out of her." I wrinkled my brow in confusion. That was better? What did Andrew deal with two or three times a week? How long did he stay? What would he say to her? I walked down the hall in a daze, past the check-point, and out to my car. 

I had told Andrew I was too deep down the hole to help him deal with his darkness. But now I felt like I was just at the surface and Andrew had been living at the bottom of the hole. I looked at the clock- only 2:50. Andrew would be home for almost 3 more hours. I drove home as quickly as I could, unsure of what I would do or say when I got there. My mind sorted through what I had just seen and learned. I felt something strong welling up inside me, but I wasn't even sure what it was. I realized that, whatever it was, seeing Andrew in a few minutes would unleash it. 

******* 

I walked in the door and saw Andrew sitting at the kitchen table, going through bills. His glasses were on and he was dressed in casual clothes- jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I was visibly distressed as I distractedly hung my coat on a hook by the door. Andrew glanced up, and seeing my face, he stood up immediately. 

"Gina! Gina, what's wrong? What happened?" Such genuine concern, so protective. 

I rushed through the kitchen and pushed him back into his seat. Climbing onto his lap, I pulled off his glasses and kissed him. It wasn't a lustful kiss, like one that serves as a prelude to sex. This was an unleashing of something I had held back too long. I loved him, I knew that now. And though my pride and my fear and my insecurity still screamed at me to leave now before it was too late, my love had finally grown bigger than those things. 

And it wasn't the romantic love that I had always thought would happen eventually- the infatuation on steroids that is the subject of so many movies and stories. This was love like Dottie had described it. A love that chose to give and give, knowing that it would freely receive in return. It was a love that had invested so much already and didn't want to lose all of that. 

I wanted to be with him, I wanted to be naked in front of him and with him because I trusted him and I didn't want to hide. I wanted him to be the star that would help guide me through my own darkness. 

Meeting Penny had been the overcoming of the last great barrier to that realization. The more I had come to know Andrew, the more I liked and loved him, but part of his identity was hidden from me- the part related to Penny- and I couldn't love him while that part was still obscured. I had always feared that Penny was a secret Andrew kept because he was guilty and ashamed of something. I thought she would be dead, abused, or neglected. I thought, I feared his darkness was self-inflicted, the darkness of his own malice. The pain that Gareth had brought to my life made me deeply distrustful of any man who sought a lover while still married. 

But Andrew...here was something I never expected. How long-suffering he was! All these years- his daughter in a grave, his wife...unhinged by grief. He had no wife, no child. He was faithful to support her. He worked a full-time job to provide just for her. For her, who could give nothing back to him, nothing except the pain of one-sided conversations and memories of hopes that would never be realized. How had he held on so long in that state? 

I felt guilty for pushing him away. I wanted to give myself to him freely for every time I had made him ashamed to ask. I wanted to offer a hundred kind words for every insult I had thrown at him. I knew it was all ridiculous, I knew I was beyond reason. I was drunk with affection. 

I didn't care that I wasn't good enough for him. I didn't care that I feared I would just drag him down. He wanted me, and if he would choose me, then I would give him whatever I could in return. Not out of duty or obligation, but out of love. 

All of this passed through my mind as I kissed him, rubbing my hands around his chest and shoulders, taking his head into my arms. I cried, whether for joy and love or for sadness and regret, I wasn't sure. I couldn't get enough of him in that moment. I daresay he was overwhelmed by me. 

"Gina..." He tried to speak between kisses. "Gina...what's going on?" 

I owed him an explanation, but I couldn't. How could I tell him what I had learned? How could I tell him what had changed? How could I explain the way my heart had just snapped open? I think that love had been there for weeks already, but it was too overpowered by fear. And that fear would certainly reassert itself, even as it was trying to do already. 

"I...I can't say...I just..." 

"Is something wrong?" He pulled back, trying to look at my face. 

"Yes, Andrew! Everything is wrong! It's all fucked up. Nothing works right." I put my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And you understand that. You're strong enough to handle that. And I need...I want you to help me deal with that." 

"Oh," he said, still not quite following me. "Of course...Did something happen this afternoon? You seem...really upset." He could have said, 'you seem a complete and total mess' and I would have agreed. 

"Oh baby, you should know better than to ask me stuff like that. If I haven't told you already, asking won't do you any good." he just looked puzzled and frustrated. His hands under my shirt rubbing my sides and back suggested that he had at least one idea of how to give the help I was asking for. And given my track record of what I wanted when I asked for his help with my problems, that was understandable. Lucky for him, that's exactly what I wanted right then- but not just for my sake. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 11



"Andrew...take me upstairs and make love to me...please." 

******* 

After he recovered from the shock of that request, Andrew stood up, holding me in his arms. I leaned my head onto his chest as he walked up the stairs. Entering his room, he put me down on the center of his bed. He unbuttoned my shirt and removed his own while I took off my bra. Then he got next to me, leaned over me, and began kissing all over my upper body. From my waist to my face- if it was exposed, it was kissed. He was unhurried, intentional. He was clearly enjoying every second, and I was sharing that pleasure. I gently touched his arms and back and chest- whatever I could reach as his lips slow-danced across my body. 

I don't know how he controlled himself for so long. His attention to every inch of skin on my chest and arms and (after he rolled me over) my back was driving my desire to frustrating heights. I was ready to be joined to him, to be filled by him, to feel his ultimate pleasure release inside me. I wanted to know I was giving him something special, something only I could give him. 

He paused for a moment, his lips over the back of my neck, and asked, "Gina, if I talk to you, are you going to want to leave?" 

I smiled, partly at the humor of his question and partly because I anticipated how happy my answer would make him. "No, Andrew, not this time." He resumed running his lips along my spine, evoking chills and shudders. "But if our pants stay on much longer, I think I will leave." 

"I'm sorry," he apologized facetiously, "are you not enjoying this?" 

"Only as a means to an end, Andrew. And right now there's too much means and not enough of the ends." 

He laughed- it was a loud, happy sound, one I could get used to. Kneeling upright next to me, he unbuttoned his pants. I decided to stop him. He looked at me confused, but I made my intentions clear. "I want to." 

Guiding him into a prone position, I pulled his jeans down to his thighs. Then I pulled his boxer briefs just as far down. His penis was exposed, but his legs couldn't move much. Trapping him like that, I got between his legs, put my arms on his thighs, and started slowly stroking him with my hands. I used my tongue to lubricate the hand job. It struck me as odd that this hand job- one of the least intimate of sex acts- was one of the most intimate to me in that moment, because I was doing it to please someone that I wanted to please. 

I was finally ready to be genuinely close to Andrew, and that made every act, every touch special. I wasn't doing any of this to fulfill an obligation to him, or to change his mood, or to bargain something out of him, or to change the way he saw me. And I wasn't even doing this because I hoped to get pleasure out of it (though I had no doubts that Andrew would see to that). I wanted to give him this pleasure, because it was something unique that I brought into this relationship. Sure, he could go fuck another girl if he wanted, but no one else could give him me. And it was me that he wanted. That last thought caused my thighs to squeeze and made me smile. 

I looked up at him, beaming from his enjoyment of it all, and I asked, "Do you want to cum like this?" Torn between the desire to cum quickly and the desire for more, he tried to do both. 

"Yeah, the first time. But not the second." I grinned, knowing it wasn't bravado speaking. I kept stroking him and put my mouth on his crown. Then, removing one hand, I moved my mouth down to take its place. I had to slow my stroking to match the pace my mouth could handle, but Andrew didn't complain. I tried seeing if I could get his cock further into my mouth. I had never deep-throated and had never felt the urge to try, but in the heat of that moment, I wanted to find new ways to make that time special. 

I tried relaxing and ignoring my gag reflex, but I just wasn't ready. Andrew never complained. His hands rubbed along my shoulders and hair. His hips started moving slowly in time with my motions, and I tightened my grip at his base to help speed his release. Mouth full of his manhood, I looked up at him to see if he was getting close. Our eyes met and he smiled. I responded with a sucking and squeezing motion that wiped the smile of his face and replaced it with a grimace. 

"Grrrngh...oohhhHHH!...Gina, I'm gonna...O, God!..." I pushed down as far as I could and felt his release. I pulled up a bit so that he would spray my mouth and not my throat. Both hands worked to milk him dry. I swallowed his load and cleaned his cock with my tongue. I crawled up next to him and draped an arm and leg across his body, which was still trying to recover. 

"I'm gonna need a minute, Gina, before I can give you the attention you deserve." 

Nuzzling his neck, I said, "That's fine. Take an hour, if you need to." 

Glancing at the clock, he said, "An hour is not a luxury we have right now, but I might take a few minutes, since you're being so generous." 

"It's not generosity if I'm enjoying it, is it?" 

"I don't have an answer for that...I'm still...just...confused, and amazed, and thankful." 

That was all we said for a while, and I was so absolutely content. For once, there were no voices telling me to get up and run. There was no tense preparation to leave, no looking for an exit. There was just...this. This moment. 

After looking for a minute like he might drift off, Andrew rolled towards me and started rubbing my stomach. We still had our pants on. 

"Gina, you have an amazing body. Thank you for sharing it with me." 

I smiled and, for maybe the first time, enjoyed his compliment. There was something so liberating about this. I rubbed my nose to his and he pushed his lips forward for a kiss. As we moved our lips gently against each other, Andrew reached down and unbuttoned my pants. As he pulled them down, I pulled my legs up and out. Then he pulled his own jeans off, discarding both pairs on the floor by the side of the bed. The only clothing that remained between the two of us were my panties. 

Andrew rolled me onto my back and rested me on his arm, which supported my head. He put his other hand inside my panties and began rubbing his whole hand across my folds. Very slowly, very gently, very effectively he moved back and forth. I found that I was already on edge from the newness of this kind of connection with him. And his attention to kissing my skin earlier had only further prepared me for enjoyment. His rubbing was continuing to push me up that path. 

As he rubbed, he began pushing one finger down more firmly, dragging it across my clit. I couldn't remember a single time when I had cum from having a guy rub me, but that record stood a good chance of being broken that afternoon. Not sure what to do with my hands, I simply gripped Andrew's wrist and arm as it moved around on top of me. I wasn't trying to guide him, I just wanted to hold on to him, to feel him moving for my sake. 

Our heads next to each other, he leaned close to me and began whispering compliments about all my body parts. He listed so many things he found beautiful and charming and inviting and a lot of other adjectives I seldom heard said with such sincerity. Of course it was his voice that drove me right up to the edge and over it. I felt the tension building and began pushing against his hand with my hips. I stifled my moans, not wanting anything to drown out the soft undercurrent of Andrew's voice. 

When I knew I was there, I put my hand over his and pushed it up against my folds, rubbing my clit a little harder. I cried as I came, my whole self confused and needing release. 

While I was still shaking and crying, I rolled towards Andrew and hugged him. I needed to be held. I kissed his neck, just to feel more of him against more of me. He rubbed my back and spoke softly in my ear, "It's OK, baby. It's OK. Shhh..." I believed him. 

I felt emotionally drained, but I didn't want to miss the chance to feel Andrew inside me before he left for work. I had begun to suspect that all hell might break loose after his shift, because he was bound to find out that I'd been there. Of course someone would tell him! I think I had expected to come back angry after seeing Penny. I assumed...I don't know. I just didn't really expect (or dare hope for) this. 

So, partly thinking that this might be our last time together, I wanted to be joined to him, to be filled with Andrew when I wanted Andrew, not just sex or forgetfulness or anything else. So with that as my rallying cry, I whispered to him, "I want you inside me, Andrew." He climbed gently between my legs and didn't even need his hands to line himself up. We slid together like lovers long acquainted with how their bodies fit together. 

I was ready and my body welcomed his with a warm embrace. We groaned and gasped lightly at our joining and fell into our most comfortable position, with him embracing me from above, my legs wrapped around his. He thrust and I moved with him. Our kisses were interrupted now and again by silent staring into each other's eyes. I was sure he had questions, I'm sure he was confused and hopeful and scared and scarred. I was all those things as well. 

As our love-making progressed, I was less and less optimistic that this could or should work out. I wasn't what was best for him, I had always known that. But this evening I had let myself become convinced that he was best for me. 

For the moment, however, that could wait. For the moment, there was this. There was giving and getting, thrusting and receiving, holding and squeezing, kissing and gasping. 

There was my chest arching up in time with a hard push inside me, there was Andrew's hand moving to hold my back like that and his mouth taking my nipple, there was my hand in his hair, holding him there. For now, we had a moment that would soon end, but I refused to end it early with my fear and doubt. 

I knew that, if not for the future, at least for this moment I could be all that he wanted and all that he needed. I wouldn't let myself lose this. 

It was a remarkably wordless moment in time, I realized. We usually talked during sex- me to distract from the intimacy, him to prolong the personal connection, I think. But I didn't want to lose any intimacy that evening, and my emotional presence made it unnecessary for Andrew to try to generate a feeling of connection. I had never been so available to him as I was that evening. 

I spread my legs a little, just to invite him deeper inside. I closed my legs around the backs of his thighs to try to keep him there. Andrew's whole body was engaged in his movements. His hips were thrusting, but all off him was behind that motion. 

When he started speeding towards his release, he grabbed my wrists and put them up by my ears. Interlacing all of his fingers with all of mine, he held my hands in place. Holding hands that way was deeply bonding, and it also served to amplify the sensations between our legs. Without our hands touching and exploring, more of my attention was focused on his pulsing inside me. Less background noise, so to speak. 

It was in that position- our hands locked together over my head, Andrew thrusting into me from above, my legs pulling him in- that Andrew came inside me. I enjoyed his pleasure- his ecstasy made me happy. I wanted to speak, to share the moment with him, to touch him just one more way- with my voice. But no words came- I was overwhelmed. 

As he came down from his peak, he unlaced his fingers from mine and held me in his familiar, warm embrace. We lay like that for I don't know how long. It was long after he had softened, though his tip remained lodged in my folds, that he awoke, as from a stupor, and looked at me. Resting on the side of me, he tried to speak. "Gina, I don't know what...this...there are just no words for that, Gina." 

Looking him in the eyes and smiling, I reached up and cupped his cheek and said, "I know..." I wanted to add "honey," but I wasn't ready for that discussion yet. Let us see if he still wants me here after tonight, then we can quibble over pet names, I thought. 

Looking over at the clock, which read 5:15, I said, "You should be getting ready for work. Let me go fix you something to eat." And I was surprised how little duty and how much joy I felt in offering that. It was the strangest thing. 

As he climbed out of bed, he paused and said to me without making eye contact, "I'm scared you won't be here when I get back." 

Turning my eyes upwards and holding in the tears, I said, "I'm scared you won't want me here when you get back." 

He lifted his head sharply to look at me, searching for an explanation. When none came, he continued getting dressed, and I went to heat up some food. 

******* 

I did a lot of soul-searching after he left. The cool clouds of reason descended on my hot passions and a nice little storm was brewing. But even in the midst of that, I couldn't escape the conclusion that I indeed loved Andrew and wanted to be with him. Whether he would really want to be with me was another question entirely. Even if we survived the next 24 hours intact (and I kicked myself for how deeply I had breached his trust), there was still much about me that he didn't know, some of which might alter forever his view of me. And I didn't know what to do about the fact that he was still married to Penny. 

After cleaning as much of the house as I could, I showered and went to bed just before midnight...in Andrew's room. 

******* 

Sometime during the night, Andrew had returned home, come to his room, and moved the glider across the room, putting it next to where I was sleeping in his bed. He was sitting in the glider when I awoke briefly at 4am. He was quietly sitting there, watching me- a vigil. I must have been too sleepy to realize my situation- otherwise adrenalin would have jolted me awake to see what he knew. But instead, I saw Andrew, the man I trusted, watching over me. And I felt safe. 

"Come to bed," I mumbled, and I reached out my hand to touch him as I fell back to sleep. 

******* 

I woke up for the day at almost 9 a.m. Andrew was in bed next to me, sound asleep. That alone was enough to make my heart soar. He hadn't gotten me up in the middle of the night to argue or to kick me out. He hadn't left. He was there, with me. I tried to find a way to cuddle closer to him as he slept, but without waking him. I wanted him to sleep as long as he wanted. The morning would, no doubt, be full. 

I fetched my robe from my room and went downstairs. I found a note on the table. 

Dearest Gina, 

Obviously, we have a lot to talk about. I'm sure at some point it occurred to you that not many cars come through our gates, so your name was still on the front page of the register I used last night. May I suggest that for future adventures, you plan such things on days when I won't be working the night shift. Just a thought. Also, you no doubt expected that if Penny receives ANY visitors other than me (which, for the record, she hasn't) people will tell me about it. Using Donna's name was clever. But also stupid and dangerous- we'll talk in the morning. 

I'm writing this because...I don't even know. I may see you before you read it. But I want to get something on paper in case you are scared and worried and are planning to run out of my life this morning. I want to prevent that. I may or may not have disabled your car... 

OK, the point is, I'm angry. Angrier than you've ever seen me. And we really, really need to talk, because, in case you haven't picked up on it, or if your fears won't let you believe it, I love you. And I want to see if there's any way to make this work. If our arrangement is the only way to keep you here for now, then so be it. But please, let's talk. 

With love, really, 

Andrew 

P.S. I found the right word for last night: Perfect. 

******* 

I made a new recipe that morning- tear-stained pancakes. But seriously, I cried as I thought through the hopeful and scary things about what Andrew and I needed to discuss. I piled up two plates full of pancakes, put them on a tray with fruit, syrup, and two mugs of coffee, and went upstairs to uncover...my future. 

******* 

I didn't need to wake Andrew. He was in bed, listening happily to the sounds downstairs, evidence that I was still there. I tried to hand him the tray as he got up, but he intercepted it, put it on the bed, and held me. 

"I'm so sorry," I tried to say, but my mouth was being pressed against his and I couldn't get the words out. Finally, he broke the kiss and said, "I love you, Gina. I really love you, and I hope you'll work this through with me." 

"I want to Andrew, but I still don't know how this morning will end." 

"Fair enough. But can it begin with pancakes?" 

We ate and talked. I confessed to my snooping, which he had already figured out the night before when he got home from work and couldn't find his wedding album. Oops- I never put it back after looking up Donna's name. He chewed me out for recklessly messing with Penny's already unstable mental health- acting like her estranged sister could have set off a suicidal reaction. I had never considered that, even in my wildest imagination. I filled in the gaps of what he already knew about my visit to Penny. He had most of the facts- he had even talked to the orderly that was with Penny and me in the room. What he lacked was knowing my perspective and my motivation. 

"My big question, really, is why, Gina? Why did you do this?" 

"Not knowing about your wife has bugged me since day one. Maybe you don't have the imagination that I do, but there were some pretty freaky, scary possibilities out there. I once went outside to look for a shallow grave in the back yard." 

He thought I was joking. I wasn't. I continued. 

"But as time went on, and I felt a closeness to you, the search for Penny had two purposes. On the one hand, if I could find that she was really dead or had left you or something like that, then there was...hope...hope for a future with you- something I really didn't dare to dream of. But on the other hand..." 

I told him about Gareth and the painful mistake of loving a man who already wore a ring. I didn't tell him everything, though, the sad ending of that story had to wait for another time. 

"So I needed to keep Penny in view so I didn't make the same mistake I had made before. It was to justify why I shouldn't let myself love you. So searching for Penny was either to open a door for us or to slam it shut," I concluded.  

That thought hung in the air. Then Andrew hesitantly asked, "And so...which way did it take you after yesterday?" He held his breath. 

I said very timidly, "I...still don't know." 

He exhaled loudly, but not out of relief. 

"Andrew, you still wear a ring that declares you to be married to a woman who is still your wife, and she is still alive. I...I don't know why you still wear it and why you stay married to her. After seeing her, I can't imagine she is any kind of wife to you at all- not even a shadow of a wife." 

He started to speak, but I continued. "Whatever your reasons, as long as you are married to her, then there is a limit to who and what I can be to you. I want to find that limit and test it, but I think we've already done that, maybe. It's so...complicated." 

"Gina, let me tell you Penny's story, because it'll help, I think." 

"Can we cuddle while you tell it?" we had been sitting on the bed, facing each other while we ate. With the food gone, I wanted to be close to him again. He opened his arms wide, and we sat against the headboard with me tucked up next to him. He began to talk. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 11



******* 

There were warning signs long before Noel died. I don't think I could have been expected to see them when we were dating- dating is such a weird thing that often sets you up so poorly for marriage. You only see a person part of the time, and they can act differently. Penny would get upset or worked up over some odd things, but we could let it slide and move on to something else. We'd go to class or back to our separate rooms and the next time we saw each other, she was fine. 

There would be whole stretches of days where we didn't see each other, and sometimes she would just say she was tired, or crashing, or busy. Once we got married, I started to see that she had some real bad days- days where her behavior didn't make any sense. She might be severely depressed for a few days, almost suicidal. Or she might just be scared, paranoid. I hadn't known any of that about her, and we had dated for over 3 years! 

Part of what was missing was the social context, the community that knew Penny. Penny and I were studying at college that was a continent away from her home and all the people that had known her. If I had plugged in to that group and gotten to know Penny through those relationships, none of this would have been a surprise. Instead, I got cold shoulders and malicious hints about what a basket-case I was getting. That came from her own parents. But Penny had predisposed me to think they were irrational and hurtful all the time. That was mostly true, but not entirely. 

Anyway, the first year of marriage was kind of rough- uncovering a lot of this mess was like getting to know an entirely different person, a person I hadn't realized I was marrying. I chalked a lot of it up to the stress of a new home, a new life, a new everything. But sex was great- amazing, when she wasn't in one of her moods- and we were both working and settling into the house, so I wasn't complaining about much. 

Well, 16 months into that process, and we got pregnant with Noel. It was a total surprise, rocked our world. Penny cried for...days. Maybe a week. And that's when the big news came. Penny was on some serious anti-psychotic meds. Meds she couldn't take while pregnant. Meds I never knew she was on. Turns out my wife had schizophrenia. She had hidden that from me. Hidden it for more than five years. I was...devastated. But she assured me that it wasn't a big deal. And she told me that the doctor said that they could manage things for the duration of the pregnancy- it would be fine. 

And so now I had a schizophrenic wife who is pregnant and can't take her meds. Long story short, it was a difficult pregnancy...for me much more than for her. Noel was an easy baby- easy delivery, not fussy, everything was fine. Penny didn't breastfeed long, because we wanted her back on the meds. Penny was an amazing mother. Noel focused her world, gave her something that made sense. It was...so fun to see. We started planning a bigger family and happily working on making it happen. I was ignorant of the extent of Penny's problems. 

Then, when Noel was 11 months old, they were knocked off the road and down an embankment by a construction truck that lost control... 

Penny watched Noel die. She heard every cry...every God...damn...scream. She was powerless to help. For 30 minutes she hung upside-down in the car, listening as her baby died. It was only after Penny was released from the hospital a week later that I learned...that...another baby died in that car. Penny had a surprise for me- she was going to tell me on our anniversary the next week. She was already two months along. 

Well, long story short, Penny didn't recover from that. It broke her, broke her deeply. The bad days that used to come just a few times a month started coming a few times a week. Then it was just the good days that came a few times a month. And then the darkness just took her. 

I had to stop working for a while- did you know I worked at a bank? Anyway, Penny was helpless. Two months after the accident and she couldn't be left alone. She had been in the ER three or four times for suicide attempts. She once attacked me in a blind rage (he pointed to the deep scar on his forearm). I was at my wits end. I looked into my options, and insurance didn't cover a whole lot. The construction company had swooped in and given us a generous settlement, but once that deal was made, it didn't leave the option of suing them for more damages- like for Penny's long-term care. It had seemed generous, how fast they moved, but I realized later it was really smart of them. 

It was clear Penny needed a residential option, but I didn't want her just locked up. I wanted doctors caring for her- doctors, not just babysitters who give pills. But the kind of care I wanted for her was not cheap, and insurance companies didn't think it was necessary. They only covered basic stuff- not the good kind of care that is out there. 

So when I looked into the Institute, I learned that what she needed would cost more than my salary used to be. Their financial department worked with me to figure out that, as long as Penny was my wife, she could be covered under my insurance, and that would cover basic residential care. That cut the cost some, but not anywhere near to what I could afford. Unless I got a second job. Well, they agreed to hire me as a night watchman, and they would set the pay to be exactly what insurance wouldn't cover of Penny's expenses. And whenever Penny's costs went up, I would get a corresponding raise to match it, within reason. 

With the settlement money, I had paid off the house and bought the body shop, which was already up and running. Fixing cars was an old hobby of mine that always used to help take my mind off things. That, plus my business degree, made the body shop a good investment. And with no family around other than Penny, I didn't need to worry about spending too much time at work. Two and a half years later, and here I am, and there she is. 

******* 

He had told his story plainly, without much emotion, but the tears came anyway. And eventually I couldn't tell which tears were mine and which were his as they fell on his shirt. 

"So that's where it's at, Gina. I'm still married to her because she's my wife and she needs me, even if she doesn't know it. If I left her, she'd have to leave the Institute- and that's a really ugly road for someone in her condition." 

"You visit her a few times a week?" 

"Yeah, and it goes about as well, and usually about as long, as it did with you. She's not there anymore Gina. I wish you had at least seen some of her good days, years ago, in order to see what she has lost. That's not my Penny- Penny is long gone" 

"Do the doctors agree?" 

"Well, they will never say that there's no hope- that's not how they work. There's always a new kind of medication, a new type of therapy, a cutting-edge theory, a new something to try. But they don't realistically expect that she'll be fully functional again, probably ever." 

I still had so many questions, but most of them were more about how Andrew dealt with the pain. I hoped there would be plenty of time to ask those questions. I hoped with a forced optimism. 

For now, though, I had some thinking to do. 

"Andrew, this is so hard. I don't know what to do. I need some time to think. You're working tonight?" 

"No, I took off. I figured I'd either want to be in bed with you or else be finding a way to get you out of my mind. In any case, I wasn't going to be there." I snuggled in closer. 

"Well then, let me take some time to think. I...I don't know how long. Probably a few days. And I may flake out and need space. Or I may just want to hold you the whole time...I don't know. I'm scared Andrew." 

"Do what you need to. Remember, I love you, and I want to find a way for us to be together. Please involve me in the process as much as you can. Let me know if you want me to take off work during the week, take you out of here on a vacation for a while, or whatever. I'm serious Gina...you're very worth it." 

"Thank you," was all I could think to say. 

******* 

It took several days. I wanted to talk with one of the lawyers at the shelter and learn a few things about insurance fraud, mental illness and insurance, post-settlement claim suits, and things like that. I was trying to find any loophole that might exist. The fact that I was searching for a loophole helped me to realize that I couldn't...I just couldn't stay with Andrew while he was married to Penny. Another concern I had was that Penny might make a miraculous recovery, suddenly or gradually. And then, to find Andrew with another woman...with me...It would be wrong to do that to her just for my happiness. 

Despite all my searching, I couldn't find a way out. Andrew was, essentially, trapped. And I could neither get him out nor join him in there. In the middle of the week, I talked to Dottie- and without knowing any details except that I needed a new place to stay, she convinced me to be a live-in resident manager at the shelter- until I found something else, of course. I moved everything but my recliner while Andrew was at work on Thursday. I still hadn't told him I was leaving. 

******* 

My week at home- and yes, I very consciously thought of it as home- had been nice. We were like a married couple, living comfortably in the same space, looking out for each other, enjoying each other's company. I had slept peacefully beside him every night. It wasn't romantic; it was warm, comfortable, right. 

On Thursday afternoon, when Andrew got home from work I had dinner ready. We ate together. We cuddled on the couch and talked about nothing. We went upstairs to his bedroom. He didn't know I was leaving after this, but I wanted one last time to be with the man I loved, before I had to tell him the hard truth that would end our arrangement. 

It was our first time making love since talking about Penny. I thought about trying to give him the ride of his life...again, but that didn't seem appropriate. Our love making flowed naturally from the bond between us. We didn't need to discuss it or say anything at all. We walked casually into the bedroom, holding hands. Climbing on to the bed, we kissed with no urgency. One of us, I'm not sure who, took my hair down. Someone unbuttoned my shirt. Someone unbuckled his belt. 

Our movements worked together, a practiced dance. Someone moved us into our sides. Someone tugged his shirt up over his head. Piece by piece, our barriers dropped to the floor. Bit by bit, we revealed ourselves to the evening and to each other. 

At this point in our relationship, there was no spot on my body that Andrew's lips had not touched. He loved traveling across my skin with his lips. And like a seasoned explorer, he took delight not in the discovery, but in the rediscovery. Seeing this area in a new light; touching this place in a different way. 

Meanwhile, I ran my fingertips and knuckles around his body. As I started to get worked up, I got out from under his kisses and rolled him onto his front. Naked, I straddled his thighs and started working my palms into his back. He groaned in pleasure. There was nothing overtly sexual about it, except that our bodies were touching. I didn't rub my naked hips along him in order to get myself aroused. I didn't reach around and hold his penis. I just rubbed his back- the back that worked so heard to bear his burdens. I felt his tension, and I felt him relaxing. I wished that there would be more nights for us, nights when I could do this for him. And nights when he would rub my legs and back as I fell asleep next to him... 

But knowing that there were no more nights ahead of us, I lay down on top of his back, my breasts pressing into him. "So, handsome," I said into his ear, "what do you want to do with me?" 

Without hesitating, his eyes still closed, he said, "I want to keep you forever, chase away all your fears, fight your demons with you, and bring you all the happiness I can find in this world." 

So that he couldn't hear me beginning to choke up, I whispered, "What do you want to do with me right now?" 

"I want to get started on everything I just said," he retorted. "But I'll settle for this..." Pushing up with one arm, he rolled me off his back. Then turning me to face away from him, he spooned up behind me and pulled me into his chest. With both of his arms wrapped around me, I felt at home. His cock found its way in between my legs. With one hand, I directed it to the entrance of my folds. I realized that this- facing away from him- would be perfect for me, because I wanted the freedom to cry without spoiling Andrew's evening. 

I wasn't fully ready for his entrance, but Andrew didn't force his way in. He moved his hips very slightly, and the tip of his shaft stayed tucked inside my entrance. One of his hands moved down to my mound and started seeking my button. Finding the right area, he moved around in big, slow circles. His lips found a home in the spot where my neck slopes into my shoulder, and he kissed up and down that region. 

"You're not talking," I commented. 

"I have so much I want to say, but you need your space to figure things out. I don't want to keep telling you how much I love you and why, if that's just going to make things harder for you." 

I accepted that- he was right, more so than he knew. I had already made my decision, and hearing his promises and affirmations would only make it more difficult. 

By now, his little hip motions were getting bigger, as my passage prepared for his entry. He could feel and probably hear my wetness beginning. Once he had gotten his whole crown past my folds, he paused. Holding my hips in place, he pushed firmly and fully into me. I put a hand over my mound, wanting to feel some indication on the outside of the warm fullness inside me. 

I began squeezing my legs and PC muscles together as one hand guided Andrew's hand over my clit. Together we rubbed and caressed my entrance and my hardening nub. We stayed in that position, working into a steady, unhurried tempo of thrusting. I angled my hips back a bit to give him deeper access, and he responded with a groan and a faster pace. 

"Andrew...I'm getting close...will you wait for me?" Our hands working together on my clit were doing their job, and my soaring, crashing emotions were fuel for the fire. 

"I'll wait as long as you need me to, Gina. I love you. I love you." 

"I meant...I meant wait to cum," I said, almost laughing. 

"I know what you meant. But hey...nnng...if waiting means...mmmpff...doing this...hnnnng...then I'm happy to wait...oohhhhhh...mmmf...as long as I can." 

I squeezed the arm wrapped around my breast. Closing my eyes, I let my imagination take me the rest of the way. I envisioned a life with Andrew. In a few seconds, images flashed across my imagination, images of a house and yard, star gazing at night, Andrew holding a child, laughter at the dinner table, winter morning sex under warm covers... 

"Gina, I hope you're really close..." 

His voice did it. When his voice combined with my fantasies of him, I shouted. Squeezing tight, I pulled his arm and hand closer to me. All those happy images stirred around and flashed colors behind my closed eyes. Andrew's shaft began pulsing inside me and his heavy, desperate thrusts met my hips pushing back against him. 

We peaked together and then helped each other descend. Skin finding skin everywhere it went, arms and hands seeking friends and partners in the search for another presence. His breath racing with mine, our hearts beating against each other as my back was pulled against his chest. My tears were few and silent and unnoticed. His kisses were abundant and gentle and welcome. 

******* 

A few minutes later, and I was on my back, feeling Andrew's hands move gently across my body. He was staring at my face. 

"Andrew, I tried. I really tried to find a way to make it work." His hand froze on my breast. "I talked to lawyers and insurance experts and all sorts of people trying to find a way that I was comfortable with. But Andrew, I...I can't be with you while you're married to Penny- I can't and I shouldn't. It would be so selfish of me, and...and I think it would be wrong of you to do that to her." He pulled his hand back. 

"Gina?" 

"I'm leaving, Andrew. Or...actually...I've left. My stuff is gone. You can keep...or hang on to the recliner...for now. I may come back for it. Just don't get rid of it...please. It's special...like your couch, kind of." 

"Gina, there's nothing selfish about..." 

"Andrew, I'm sorry. This isn't...a discussion. I can't do it." I rolled to face him, his eyes starting to show signs of tears. "And believe me Andrew, I want to do it. I want to say, 'fuck 'em all, this is my shot at happiness.' But I can't. I want to do it because I love you now." 

"Gina, we can change things. We can...we can take sex off the table, change the arrangement, just stay here and..." He was babbling. 

"Andrew," I was surprised how calm I felt and sounded, like a martyr resigned to her fate. "Andrew, sweetie, sex was never the problem. If you could take our hearts off the table, if we could manage for it to be just sex, then I think we'd be fine. But you were right, Andrew. You were right all along- I should have listened. I can never be just sex. I was a fool Andrew, I should have listened to you" 

"Gina, just...stay. No sex. No talking about love. Just stay and let me figure something out." 

"I'm so sorry, honey. If you find a way, let me know. But you can't leave Penny, Andrew, you just can't. What made me realize how much I loved you was seeing how selflessly you cared for her. You showed me what love should be." 

He sat up and began getting dressed, agitated. "Where will you go?" 

"I'll live at the shelter..." He snapped his head around, angry. "I'll live there as a residential manager. It's a position they need filled. It means I'll be there to receive women and families who come in the middle of the night, and I don't need to pay rent. It's a really good thing, Andrew." I started putting my clothes on. 

"And you've already moved?" 

"Yes. This morning. I've put my key and gas card in the kitchen drawer." 

"Will you stay the night?" He was angry...sad...confused. 

"No," I said quietly. Then trying to brighten up, I said, "I got you a...present, of sorts?" I started walking down the stairs, with Andrew behind me. 

"Gina, you..." 

"I'm paying a meal delivery service to bring you two big homemade meals a week for the next 3 months. And I get to pick the meals, so I'll know you're eating healthy. It's a business one of the women who went through the shelter is trying to start. Plus, another group of women from the shelter are starting a house cleaning service, so I hired them to come in once a week for that time, too. I saved a lot of money living with you Andrew, and I want to give you something. I thought this might be...funny. You know, I'm being replaced?" 

"It's...thoughtful. And ridiculous, you shouldn't have spent..." 

"Andrew, I'm a big girl. Let me show my love the way I want to. At least I didn't hire a prostitute to visit once a week." Aaaaand that joke fell flat. He looked at me a little disgusted. "I just...I'm sorry Andrew. I know this is sudden. But I'm convinced it's right, and I have to do it before I let myself get talked out of it- by you or by my own selfishness." 

He had stopped trying to get a word in. I wasn't going to let him- he would easily draw me back. I picked up my bag and walked to the door. Andrew followed right behind me, his face running a gambit of emotions. I turned to look at him, stood on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, and said as kindly as I could, "Andrew, I'm ending our arrangement." 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 11



***** 

From the author: Tune in tomorrow for the final chapter. Thanks for reading!



A Strange Arrangement Ch. 12



That was about three years ago. I remember walking to my car, head held high. I kept it together until I got to Hope's Advocate. I started falling apart as I walked into the residential area. I was soon surrounded by women- some homeless, some abused, some there for the first time. All of them virtual strangers to me, all of them with a story. And they sat with me and handed me tissues- hands rubbing my back, hugs when I was ready. No one asked any questions- they knew better. You don't need more questions in those moments. 

Dottie came by- she had been waiting for me. She came in the room, and politely asked everyone to give us a moment alone. All she said was, "I want you to tell me everything, but not until you're ready. Everything, Gina, I mean it. You're a terrible liar, God bless you, and I know you've been hiding something from me. For now, you settle in, then get to work. There's plenty of tears to go around." 

A week or so later, I did tell her everything. Really everything, but only after swearing her to secrecy. She almost seemed offended that I would need to do that, "Don't you see the world I work with? Could I still be here if I ran my lips? There's nothing you can tell me that I haven't heard before, Gina." But after hearing about Andrew and our arrangement, and Penny and Noel and Gareth and Ian and Tristan and Angelica...She sat back, eyes wide, and said, "OK, there was some new stuff there, congratulations." But she kept her word and never told a soul. 

She helped me process a lot of what had gone on in those three months with Andrew. She didn't seemed upset about the arrangement- she called it "creative," once she was assured I was never forced into it. She also gave me her opinion that I had made the right call in the end, even if I had made some "dumb-as-shit calls" (her words, not mine) along the way. 

Hearing about my story with Gareth and his insistence that I get an abortion, and about the botched job that may have ruled child-bearing out of my future, Dottie suggested two things: First, that I give her Gareth's address and let her go cut off his balls; and second, that I start spending time counseling women at the crisis pregnancy center. During training for that, I realized how poorly the clinic I went to had handled preparing me for the physical and emotional trauma of an abortion, especially the long-term emotional effects. 

It turns out I was pretty good at working with those women, although in most cases I would say, those 'girls.' So young and scared, making such big decisions. I tried to walk them through all their options and to offer hope for them and for their children. 

******* 

In the summer, I got an email from Andrew. It was short. He praised the meal service and housecleaning services I had arranged for him, which delighted the ladies when I told them. He reaffirmed his love for me. But he also mentioned that Penny was taking part in a clinical trial for a new drug, and it was having some really promising results. She had a few good days now and then and had even had a sane conversation with Andrew. If they continued seeing success after six months, the trial would fund a live-in nurse to be with Penny while they tried to re-assimilate her into her home. Andrew wrote, I don't have any hope that she will ever again be the Penny I once knew, but she may be able to get to the point where she doesn't need to be institutionalized and constantly supervised. It would be a vastly improved quality of life for her. As much as I hate not having you with me, you made the right decision, for Penny's sake. 

He sent a few other emails now and then, reminding me of his love and telling me the door was open when I was ready. And though I read them each over and over, I never let myself reply. It would be too easy to go rushing back into his life, tearing apart whatever delicate peace they had worked to attain. 

******* 

When November came, I thought of visiting Andrew, but Dottie wisely counseled me not to open that door. No good would come of it, she assured me, only pain. "What you need, and what he needs, is to heal." But I did really miss my recliner. And I still loved Andrew. 

******* 

And so life went on. I learned a lot. Dottie began unabashedly grooming me to take her job somewhere down the road. "No hurry, hun. There's a lot of miles left on this jalopy. But when the time comes, I want you ready. Plus, I haven't had a vacation in six years!" I was good at my job. And Dottie was right, love followed commitment. I entered the shelter thinking it was a good cause. But once I started working there, it got into my veins and I was passionate about it. Dottie started sending me out to speak at fund-raising dinners. I was good at making factual, business-like presentations. Instead of trying to tug the heart-strings, I was showing how our work was not only changing lives (like every charity does) but was changing the system that was causing the problems. Now that was worth investing in. 

******* 

The next May, a year and a half after I had broken my arrangement with Andrew, Dottie asked me, "So when are you going to deal with Ian?" By that time, Dottie had earned the right to ask such a question. She knew that June was the anniversary of his death, and she knew I still hadn't talked to my parents in over 2 years. I told her I wasn't sure I could do that yet, but she pushed and pushed until a few weeks later I did something stupid. I contacted Andrew. 

Using the smart phone Dottie had required me to buy for work, I simply texted him a set of coordinates and asked him if he could meet me there the next Saturday at noon, but if not, I would understand. I didn't hear back from him. 

******* 

That next Saturday, I was at Ian's grave on the anniversary of his death. The fresh flowers told me that my parents had already been there. It was 11am on a bright day in June. I told him all about my new life. I shared my fears and worries. At 11:30, a figure who, since I had gotten there, had been sitting on a bench a hundred yards away stood up and walked towards me. Andrew. 

He looked older, careworn, tired. But he smiled to see me, and we leaned in for an awkward side hug. Looking down at the tombstone in front of us, he said, "So this is Ian?" 

"Yeah." Without comment, I took his hand in mine and told him about Ian's accident. I told him about the recliner and the stars. I told him about my parents and their emotional absence after that day. I told him how that loss had crippled me, made me afraid to be close to a man ever again. I stopped every now and then to cry. Andrew had brought tissues. He never spoke, just held my hand and listened. I told Andrew that I needed to see my parents and finally talk to them. I told him that he had helped me to see how broken I was, how broken they were, and how much we needed each other. I told him that I was so sorry I had asked him to drive all the way up here, but that I thought just seeing him would give me the courage to see them. And I owed him the story, because it had affected how I treated him. And he he still had Ian's recliner. He offered to go with me to my parents' house. I thanked him but said no. 

I asked how Penny was doing and he looked away. Then looking back, he said, "I didn't know what to expect today, Gina. I'm staying at a hotel off the interstate, I wasn't sure if you needed help or something this weekend. When you're ready, if you want, let's meet up after you talk with your parents. We can catch up then. You don't need me to distract you right now." It was a little terse and controlled, but not angry. 

"I'd like that," I said softly. 

"Me too." 

******* 

I drove to my parents house and surprised them. We had a long conversation that was sometimes loud, sometimes teary, and mostly very, very good. I owned up to a lot of the stupid things I had said and done, and they even apologized for some things, which meant a lot to me. There was still a lot of hurt on both sides, but at least now the door was open to deal with those things. They expected me to stay, but I told them I couldn't. We arranged for me to come back up in a few weeks and stay longer. I genuinely looked forward to it. 

I left before dinner and called Andrew, arranging to meet near his hotel for a meal. 

Andrew and I had never been out together. This was our first, well, not a date, but our first...time out together. He asked about my time with my parents and he listened with his usual patience. I cried a little and he had some good advice, even. As we finished covering that ground, I was going to ask about Penny again, when Andrew said, "Did you get any of my emails?" 

It only then occurred to me that he didn't know I had read them, how I treasured them, how I had printed them out in case I somehow lost the emails. For all he knew I had left his house and completely shut him out of my life until this week. I felt like a horrible person. My instinct was to justify my behavior- Yes, I had received them, but I didn't want to lead you on. I didn't want to nurture something that couldn't be. But Dottie had been training me not to justify my mistakes but to instead apologize and fix them. So I tried that, and Andrew appreciated it. 

"So you knew that Penny was in the clinical trial?" he asked. 

"Yeah, and last time I heard from you, she had been back with you for a few weeks. It seemed like she was starting to assimilate back into your home, with nurses supervising?" 

"Yeah, that was in September." He cleared his throat. 

"And it's still working? You had said there was a lot of improvement?" 

"She's dead. Penny's dead." 

I stared in silence, my heart racing with a mix of grief and excitement and fear and... 

"How? What happened?" 

"She killed herself, but I think by accident. It was in November, of course, and Noel was on her mind a lot. It was night, and she was supposed to be sleeping, but she must have woken up and was upset and wanted something to help her calm down. At the Institute, they had pills that would help calm her down when she was agitated at night. So my guess is that she went looking for pills- any pills. She wasn't thinking straight. The nurse didn't hear anything strange, so she didn't come check on her- it just sounded like talking in her sleep or something. And there hadn't been any problems for months- this new drug was really helping. 

"Anyway, Penny went into our medicine cabinet and pulled everything out. When they found her, every bottle was open- mostly OTC stuff, her serious meds were locked up. I found her unconscious in my bathroom when I got home at 2:30 a.m. They pumped her stomach and found evidence of more than 40 pills of all different kinds, but it was too late- her system had absorbed too much already. The report said it had probably happened around 10:30 or 11 that night. The problem was the mix- all those things combined, plus the experimental stuff she was taking, plus the half a beer from my nightstand that she used to wash it down. It was just poison. 

"It was...is...a mess. Everyone's trying to blame everyone. The Insititute, the drug company, the nurse...I'm just trying to stay out of it. She's not hurting anymore. And Noel has her Mommy back." 

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Why hadn't he told me? As soon as Penny was gone, I would have gone running into his arms. If he wanted me to, that is. 

"Andrew, I'm...so sorry about that. I wish I had known!" 

"Do you?" he asked, a little hurt. "Gina, you never responded to my emails. You never told me how you were doing. You left, and you cut me off. I understand why, even if I didn't agree at the time. But once you were gone, you ignored me and gave me every impression that you didn't want to hear from me again. I thought you were just glad to be out of our arrangement. Why would I have contacted you after that?" 

I closed my eyes and prepared for a counter attack. Surely I could still blame him, surely there were things he could have done, things he should have known or understood. But I caught myself and thought better of it. "I'm sorry Andrew, that was my fault. It was wrong of me." 

I went on, not sure if I should go further, but desperately wanting to. "Andrew, I would have wanted to know because Penny was the only reason I couldn't be with you. I don't know how much time you need to move on or if I even could be a part of that. I know a lot has happened in a year and a half. People change, hearts change...but mine hasn't" 

"I love you, Gina. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I came here with no expectations- I just wanted to be here for you, whatever you needed. There's not a day that's gone by since you left that I haven't wanted you back in my life- in my home, in my bed, in my arms. Not a single day, Gina." 

Right there in the restaurant, I cried. I was happy and sad and full of regret all at once. The server had arrived to refill our drinks, and she gave Andrew a nasty look, but I laughed and told her it was OK. When we were alone at the table again, I composed myself and said, "Andrew, I've missed you so much. It was like all the happiness I could handle had landed on my lap for a few days, and then I had to give it back. I blamed myself a lot, but thank God for Dottie- she kept talking sense to me." 

Andrew signaled for the check and paid it. "So Gina, are you saying we can try a new arrangement?" 

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "I don't know, Andrew. The first one was so strange, I might want something a little more normal this time." 

Smiling, he replied, "Well, unless you have other plans for this evening, I'd love to take you back to my room and begin negotiations." 

Closing my eyes and letting fall a happy tear, I said, "Andrew, there's nothing else in the world I'd rather do right now." 

******* 

It was a nice hotel room, which was odd, because I wasn't used to associating Andrew with anything fancy. When we got to the room, I washed my face to try to freshen up after so much crying that day. As I patted my face with a towel, Andrew walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Putting his face next to mine we looked in the mirror together and smiled. I felt like my heart would open up and start singing from happiness. 

"My opening offer," he said, making eye contact with my reflection, "is that you become my wife and stay with me forever. I'll provide full room and board. In return, you will work as much or as little as you want, help keep house, cook delicious meals for us, help raise any children that end up joining us, and listen to all the lovey-dovey things I want to say to you." 

"What about sex?" I asked. 

"OK, I'll also agree to let you have sex with me whenever you want. Is it a deal?" 

I laughed and leaned back into his embrace. "Maybe. We need to work out some details." 

"Would you like to sample the product? Ensure its quality?" he joked. 

"Oh, I've had enough to know its quality." 

He put an arm behind my knees and swept me suddenly off my feet and said, "Then consider this a signing bonus!" I squealed and laughed as he tossed me on the bed. 

Pulling off shoes and socks and shirts and shorts, we were quickly tumbling around in just our underclothes. We kissed and laughed and talked. I kept touching his face to make sure it was really Andrew. We were playful and giddy and were rolling around the luxurious king-sized bed Andrew had gotten. 

"Did you expect to have me back here?" I asked, with reference to the bed. 

"No, I thought there was a 1 in 1,000 chance. But juuust in case..." 

I laughed and tackled him, pressing my lips against his as we went down. 

He pulled away and said breathlessly, "Gina, it's been over a year and a half since we were together...I...I've been waiting for you...that whole time." 

"You and Penny didn't...?" 

"Oh...no...no, Penny was almost like a child. Her mind was still far away most of the time. It would have been...wrong. Besides. With the nurse there, it might have been awkward." 

"Was the nurse at least cute?" 

"Gina...I've been waiting...for you. My point is...I'm tired of waiting. We can play later." 

I straightened up and reached around to my back to unhook my bra. "Well aren't we just Mr. Get-Down-to-Business!" 

Taking off his boxer briefs, Andrew said, "I can't even think of a joke. Gina, I just want to be inside you so bad! I'm going crazy." 

Starting to pull down my panties while kneeling on the bed in front of him, I paused, my thumb in my waistband. "Well, then, maybe that puts me in a good negotiating position..." I teased. 

With a roar, Andrew pounced on me, knocking me onto my back and pulling my panties off. Huffing and grunting, he said, "There's only one position you're going to be in right now," and started spreading my legs with his knees. 

"And I thought you were out of jokes!" I said. 

"That wasn't a joke!" he said, lining himself up with my opening. "Ready?" he asked, looking in my eyes, preparing to thrust. 

I spoke slowly, "Hmmm, I might be almost reaaAAAAHHH!!" I don't think he appreciated my teasing. He thrust halfway in with one motion, then readjusted and pushed the rest of the way in on his second stroke. I laughed out loud for joy. "Are you happy now?" I asked. 

"Not as happy as I will be in about 30 seconds," he grunted. 

"Awww," I pouted, "then I won't be happy." 

He stopped pumping into me and panted, "Do you want...should I..." 

"Oh, don't be silly. I'm only teasing, Andrew. You've just never seen giddy, happy Gina before. I can be really silly sometimes. Hurry up and cum so you can relax. We've got...well, how long did you reserve this room for?" 

He started thrusting hard, holding me at the shoulders so I felt the full impact of each thrust. 

"Just for tonight," he grunted. "When we got...hmmf...to the room...Hnnngh...I called to...nnnngh...arrange for late...mmph...check-out...O God!...2 p.m." 

"That's wonderful," I said dreamily, imagining a full night and morning with my lover. "And after that, we have forever." 

I didn't think Andrew even noticed what I was saying at that point. He was about to hit his point of no return, and if it weren't for his hands on my shoulders, the force of his thrusts would have been pushing my head against the wall. A few more lunges and he came. Yelling, he pumped over and over inside me. He kept cumming inside me until I could feel the dampness start to form around my entrance. 

It only then occurred to me that I had been off birth control since my arrangement with Andrew had ended. I was unlikely ever to conceive, but at least now there were no barriers. 

Andrew slumped over me and breathed heavily. "You really needed to get laid, didn't you?" I teased. 

Catching his breath, Andrew said, "Yeah, but it was more the emotional rush than the sexual. Gina, I didn't think I'd ever see you again, let alone have the chance to be with you the way I wanted to. So...add that to needing to get laid, and it was pretty powerful." 

Pulling out, he lay on his back, spread his arms, and breathed slowly. "Give me just a minute," he said. 

Seeing a chance to talk some more, I began. "Andrew, you mentioned kids in our future. You should know, I...I probably can't have kids." 

Without missing a beat, Andrew said plainly, "Gina, there's more than one way to bring kids into our family." Then he propped himself up on an elbow and looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, that was a bit insensitive of me." 

"It's OK...and, you're right...but I want to tell you that part of my story." I went on to tell him the part of my history with Gareth that he didn't know. About how I had gotten pregnant after he didn't pull out like he promised. About how I wanted to try to carry the baby and give it up for adoption. About how he pressured and argued and finally threatened me until I agreed to an abortion. About how I didn't feel like I had much choice. About how we drove hours just to avoid risking someone recognizing him and ruining his reputation. About how he dropped me off at the street, made me walk alone past the protesters and their name-calling, and had told me to call when it was done. About how he wanted to see the paperwork before we drove away, just to make sure I wasn't lying. About how he never called me back after that. About the pain in my abdomen the next week. About the infection. About the humiliating and expensive doctor visits. About how I cried when they told me the extent of the damage. About how Gareth still didn't return my calls. About how I learned he had found a job at another university after that summer. About how the doctor told me they couldn't be sure, but that it looked like I would be unable to ever get pregnant. 




A Strange Arrangement Ch. 12



Andrew held me and let me tell my story and cry and yell and curse. He made the same offer Dottie had regarding Gareth's balls, and I knew I should be careful never to let Gareth's last name slip. 

We snuggled under the sheet for a bit, then Andrew suggested a bath. I looked at him, unsure if he was serious, but he said, "hot tub." He really had sprung for a nice room. He went and started the water. I peeked in- it was a luxurious hot tub, easily big enough for the two of us, especially if I was on his lap... 

Once the water was all ready, we stepped in it together and sat down slowly. It was really warm- no surprise, since Andrew loved hot water. We sat next to each other for a while and swapped stories. I talked about Ian a bit, he talked about his life before I knew him. We talked about our first impressions of each other (he thought I was way out of his league and would never take the offer, I thought...well...that he was a cute married guy...and a creep). 

He told me, "I really expected you to bargain about the frequency of sex, so I started high. When I said at least three times a week, I though for sure you'd push for less." 

I laughed, "I didn't even think of that! I was so desperate to get on my feet...I think that the idea of having sex was such an obstacle, that once I got over it, the frequency wasn't an issue." 

"Just so you know, seeing how beautiful and sexy you were, I decided I would agree to a limit of no more than once a week, but you never argued." 

"I bet you thanked your lucky stars!" 

We kissed and sat silent, happy to be together. I reached over to see if I could get him ready for action- but he was way ahead of me. He laughed at the face I made when I found him at full attention. 

Holding his cock, I moved onto his lap and slid down onto it. We couldn't move too vigorously, for fear of splashing water everywhere. But we could definitely get started. I rotated my hips and moved slowly up and down his pole. We were face to face, nose touching nose, the whole time. I peppered his face with little kisses. 

After a long while at that gentle pace, as the water was just turning from hot to merely warm, Andrew pushed up off his seat and moved to kneel in the middle of the tub. Leaning back a bit, he held my hips and slowly spun me around, a full 180 degrees, so that he was now entering me from behind. Putting one hand near the side of the tub, he felt around until he located a strong jet of water. Then he adjusted us so that my entrance was being sprayed by that jet. 

It was a new sensation for me, new and enjoyable. As Andrew continued to slowly pump into me, our bodies submerged from the waist down, the water sprayed at my clit. Like Andrew had said earlier, this evening the emotional release was as strong as the sexual one, and I was very ready. My own release had been building since I had sat on his lap in the tub 20 minutes ago. The build-up was slow but constant. A minute under the intense pressure of the spraying water and I grabbed the edge of the tub and came. 

My back arched and bent, moving up and down. My legs squeezed, my hips shook, and my vagina walls pressed hard on the familiar presence inside them. Andrew held my hips and rubbed my stomach. As I floated down from that peak, I leaned back into him, wrapping my arms behind me, around his neck, and turning my face to kiss his. I told him we should move away from the nozzle, which was getting uncomfortable. He suggested the water was also too cold and should be abandoned. 

Drying off, we made our way to the bed. Andrew had not completely softened, but had remained semi-hard, still waiting for the chance to cum. We found our way to the bed and turned on the TV. Pulling up a new movie on the pay-to-view channel, we ordered late night snacks and drinks from room service. It felt like a honeymoon. 

With the food still 15-20 minutes away, as the movie started, I put my mouth on Andrew's cock and got it back to full hardness. Leaving enough saliva to make entry easy, I straddled him and sank down on his member. I took him reverse cowgirl so that we could both watch the movie, though Andrew seemed distracted by his view. His hands on my hips and ass directed my speed for a while. I mostly paid attention to the movie, only slightly distracted by the grunts and ooohs behind me. A movie and sex- our Saturday tradition. 

When I realized that over ten minutes had passed and that our food would arrive soon, I paused the movie and leaned all the way forward, putting my forearms on the bed in between Andrew's feet. Then I started bouncing my hips, pumping his cock as fast as I could. He groaned and said, "Yyeeeessssss!" I felt his hips try to thrust up to match my down thrusts. Once we found a rhythm, it only took a few seconds for Andrew to find his release...just as room service knocked. 

"Just a minute, please wait!" I shouted loudly as Andrew's seed filled me. He strained to stay quiet. I gave him the time he needed to finish, then hopped up and found a robe so I could answer the door. I got our food and drinks, smiling innocently at the young lady delivering them. 

Crawling up next to Andrew, I gave him a kiss on the nose and resumed the movie. I had to immediately pause it again to explain all that he had missed in the first ten minutes. 

We went to sleep after the movie, and it was so nice to feel him next to me again. We made love in the morning before breakfast, then wandered around the grounds for a while. We enjoyed one more quickie before checking out. We got ready to head back to reality, but for once in our lives, that was not a bad prospect at all. 

******* 

Dottie was shocked at our engagement. She wanted to have a long, serious talk with Andrew. He nervously complied. They became good friends after that talk. But first she background-checked every piece of his story. I wasn't surprised when everything checked out. 

I told Andrew I didn't want to quit my job. He was fine with that, but he insisted I move out of the shelter and in with him. We rented out the townhouse for extra income and bought a house far enough away from city lights that it had a good night sky. 

Oh, this would be a good time to mention something that happened when I was counseling one of the pregnant girls that had come to us. Joelle came to the crisis pregnancy center a few months before Andrew and I got back together. She was 19 years old, 11 weeks pregnant, and scared to death. She didn't want to have an abortion but also didn't want to risk her baby ending up in a horrible home, like her foster home had been. I met with her several times, and she was planning to abort her baby to protect it from a bad home. 

"I'll take it!" I blurted out. At the time, I was still single, but I figured we could find a way to make it work- legally and practically. Joelle loved the idea, and we got the lawyers involved. Dottie laughed and said she wouldn't call it a rookie 'mistake,' but it was definitely something newer counselors had a habit of doing. 

I said I realized I was projecting a desire to fix my past onto this girl who reminded me of myself. Dottie corrected me, "You never fix your past, Gina, that's just foolishness. Your past will never change. But you can do something, you can redeem your past. You can buy it back out of whatever hell-hole it has slipped down into by making it a part of a better story. You take that little child and love it, and you'll be redeeming your own past in a beautiful way." Her words always made me feel warm. 

Well, once Andrew was back in my life, he loved the idea of adopting Joelle's child. I knew he would. Andrew and I married a few weeks before Joelle gave birth to that beautiful baby boy. I was with her in the delivery room and held him after Joelle had a chance to. Andrew, waiting impatiently in the next room during the birth, cried happy tears when he finally got to hold our son. We named him Ian. 

******* 

So that's what became of Andrew and my strange arrangement. We exchanged it for a slightly different, much better one. Andrew and I still have our shadows and sometimes it's not easy to see past them, but he's my shining star, and we're trying to fill up the sky with light. 

There's probably a lot more I could say about it. We've been married for a year now and have had plenty of time to reflect on it. But I need to go soon, I can hear little Ian getting fussy. Andrew is on the couch with him (yes, that couch), trying to get his belly full so we can go out for our anniversary. Angelica promised to come babysit tonight, as long as she could bring her boyfriend with her. I think she hopes he'll get baby fever. I made her promise no sex until after Ian was asleep. 

Andrew quit his night job at Willow Bay, of course, and he hired a great general manager for the shop. As the owner, Andrew only needs to be there a day or two each week, which frees me up to keep going at my job as long as I can. 

I'm in my recliner right now, looking up at the stars, thanks to the huge skylight Andrew insisted on having installed in our bedroom. I like it so much, I'm hoping we can put one in the second nursery- the pink one. 

It takes a little effort to get up from my seat, but somebody is busy kicking my bladder, and that gets me moving faster. The doctor says it's a girl, due in 2 months. We've already picked a name- Estelle, our little star. 

***** 

The End 

While "A Strange Arrangement" ends here, the stories won't. Andrew and Gina will pop up in the stories of Ian, Dottie, Angelica, Steve, and just about every named character from the series. Some of those stories will end up in other categories (Inc/Taboo, First Time, etc., so you'll need to keep an eye on the author's page). I've mapped out the trajectory of almost all their stories, but please let me know in the comments whose story you'd like to read first, so I can decide which ones to start writing!