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Equal Shares Ch. 01

By: steveh11



Preface and Dedication

This story could not have happened without the initial encouragement of Strickland83, who read a post I made on Nick Scipio's forum and urged me to consider writing.

Of course, that leads me to thank Nick, and also Frank Downey. Their Summer Camp and Dance of a Lifetime books, respectively, were truly inspirational. Cheers, guys.

Other authors who contributed, unknowingly, include everyone that I read between the ages of around 8 (When I discovered Arthur Ransome's Swallows and Amazons in a local library), to today. To all of them, thank you so very much.

My Primary Editor, Bob Hebert, has been simply wonderful. The reality team have put in a lot of work in the readthroughs. Without these people the story would have been greatly reduced by the simply huge number of errors that they caught, in terms of grammar, sense and direction. Any errors that remain are, of course, my responsibility.

Finally, this is dedicated to my darling wife, Karen. I love you so very much.

Equal Shares came about as a result of a challenge set to me by Strickland83. It was worded as encouragement, but a challenge it was.

He read a post on Nick Scipio's forum that I made. In it, I poured my heart out about the three occasions in which I'd fallen hopelessly in love with a fictional character. One was when I was only 13, the other two were Frank Downey's Sophia and Nick's own Gina. It was an emotional vent, in which I praised them for their ability to make a 50 year old man break down in tears over pain occurring to a character that was, in the end, no more than words on paper (or a screen). 

He said, in part: 

> I want to see others share their talents. Don't beg off by saying 
> that your spelling or grammar are not good. That's what editors do 
> for you. 
> Give it a try. Find an idea that you can be passionate about and 
> work from there. Develop the story in your mind and then write 
> about it. Give it a try.

> You have been touched by other stories. Now go out and touch 
> others.

So, I thought about it. I dismissed the idea, of course, as I hadn't tried to write fiction since I was a schoolboy. But there remained this thing... 

Then, I had an idea. I had a tale to tell. I wanted to tell a story, an erotic story, that didn't feature kids of school or university age, that wasn't a coming of age story, which actually featured people who were 'grown up'. It would be a slow story, about a man who began as emotionally dead, but who had the support of just a few people who could help him, just enough support. It would also tell the story of those around him.

This tale is very definitely not autobiographical, but there is some of me in Stan. In some facets, quite a lot, actually. In the same way, some of the characters have real-life counterparts for some of their personalities. Anne is heavily based on the smartest person I have ever known, who sadly died of cancer a couple of years ago. Elizabeth is an amalgam of three people. There is, I'm afraid, no real life analogue to Denise.

Stan's devotion to Caron is heavily modelled on my own love, of course. Like everything else, sweetheart, I offer this to you.

Steveh11, 12th May, 2006

* * * * *

Chapter 1

Stan woke up, rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. It was a defensive reflex; looking at the empty pillow next to him would bring tears to his eyes.

It was his 42nd birthday, and he was alone... again... still.

The ceiling didn't really speak to him, yet he could still hear his wife's lilting voice: 'Time to get up, Stan. You have to go to work.'

Caron. He still loved her. He still thought of her, every day, many times a day. The deep depression that he felt was his only protection from his memories of her.

The car had swerved to avoid a young girl, who was running across the road to her mother without looking, and it had caught Caron a glancing blow. It wouldn't have been too serious, but when Caron fell she'd struck her head on the raised ironwork of a manhole cover.

And that was that.

Stan had been visited at work. When the policewoman said, "Please sit down, Mr. Hinch, I'm afraid I've got some bad news," he already knew that Caron was dead. It was the compassion in her eyes, the sadness in the set of her face, the whole attitude of the young policewoman's body that told him.

He didn't break down immediately. Somehow he made the arrangements, got to the funeral, he was even able to get to the part where he was supposed to speak... and couldn't. He couldn't see anyone through the tears; he couldn't speak through the boulder lodged in his throat. Someone – he still didn't know who, probably Bob, his boss – got him down from the dais. Someone else, Elizabeth he thought, had comforted him.

Tomorrow it would be six months. Just as he'd managed to survive yesterday, in a bubble where no one could touch him, and where he didn't make any real contact with anyone else, he still had to get through today.

Elizabeth, his assistant, would look with compassion in her eyes at him from across the desks they shared, and he would, once again, refuse to engage her beyond superficialities. Bob, his manager, would inquire about some task he'd been assigned, and Stan would respond with the minimum effort required. Stan expected there'd be the usual brushfires that always came up, but he couldn't make himself care about anything any more.

He knew, intellectually, that this was bad; he knew he should try to break out of this. But he was afraid, afraid of the hurt coming back to overwhelm him. He'd spent just one night staring at the bottle of a variety of pills he'd collected from various stores. He got rid of the bottle the next morning, vowing not to bring the temptation back.

The apathy he'd developed had become his armour; his ability to function was only viable because he refused to let life reach out to touch him any more.



Equal Shares Ch. 01



When he got in his car and glanced at the clock, he noticed he'd be on time after all, so he drove the two miles to Denise's house without undue haste. He parked, got out and walked up the path.

Denise's house – really a smallish cottage – had a nicely kept if very small garden in the front. Her StreetKa 2-seater convertible was parked in the drive, and Stan stopped to admire the little red sports car. Then he rang the bell, and waited for a moment, fidgeting. 'God, I feel like a schoolboy again,' he thought, then realized how untrue it was as he'd never dated at all while at school. 'Going to an all-boys Grammar school may have been a good general education, but it certainly restricted my education with girls,' he mused.

He was brought back to the real universe when the door opened.

"Hi, Stan!" Denise said, stepping through the door. She turned to lock it, then noticed that he'd not replied. She glanced over to see Stan already halfway down the path heading towards his car. Shrugging, she hurried after him.

Stan clicked his remote, unlocking the doors, and without thought walked straight around to the driver's side. He stopped, observing that Denise was still standing there. "It's open," he said. He opened his door and got in, while Denise shook her head and did the same.

It was a ten-minute drive to the bar, just too far to walk. During the drive Denise chattered away, but Stan was only listening with his 'spouse ear' – the one that all husbands develop, that allows "Yes dear" answers at appropriate points without actually paying attention.

"Don't you think, Stan?" finally penetrated his brain.

'What had she been talking about?' thought Stan, scrunching his forehead. A replay of the last sentence proved just beyond his grasp. "I'm sorry, Denise, I didn't quite catch that," he said.

"You haven't been listening, have you?" she said, with a little of 'That Tone' in her voice. Stan glanced over. Denise arched an eyebrow, and then grinned at him. "Raoul used to do that."

"Raoul?"

"My ex," Denise answered.

"Oh."

"I said," she continued, "Don't you think the blossoms look nice?"

"Er, yeah."

"What sort of blossoms are they, anyway?"

A memory triggered, "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White," Stan answered, almost dreamily.

"Huh?" It was Denise's turn to be confused.

Stan snapped back to the present. "Old song. Forget it. We're here," he said, pulling into the car park.

Denise sat in the car as he got out, waiting. Stan, remembering his manners this time, went around and opened the door, and Denise got out, giving him a peck on the cheek. "See, you were brought up properly," she teased. Stan flushed, and muttered, "Yeah..."

They walked into the bar. As it was only just after eight, it wasn't too busy. Denise was surprised not to find half of The Firm there, but only Elaine looked back at her over her drink from the other side of the bar. She grinned at Denise, and resumed her conversation with her friend. Stan failed to notice the answering grin on the face of Denise.

Denise kept up a constant, if rather one-sided, conversation while they were served with their drinks, Gin & Tonic for her, mineral water for him "because I'm driving," as he always felt he had to say. Stan never quite felt right being in a bar drinking soft drinks, but he'd become used to it – no one else was driving him anywhere.

"Cherry Pink and what?" Denise said. It made it's way through Stan's ears, into his brain, and finally into his consciousness

.

"Pardon me?"

"You said something about 'Cherry Pink' and something, I wondered what you meant."

"Not important," he said, a little stiffly.

She laid a hand on his arm, "Please?"

"Oh well. 'Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.' It's a tune; I can't remember who played it, but my father loved it, and I remember hearing it a lot when I was young. Whenever my attention is drawn to either the pink cherry blossom or the white of the apple, I always seem to think of it – can't help it."

"Tell me more about your parents?"

So, they passed time, the drinks came and went, and another round was ordered. Denise felt like she was getting somewhere with Stan, he was more alive than he'd been for ages – well, for the last six months, at least. However, one of those natural lulls in conversation came and Stan looked at his watch.

"You have another date?" Denise attempted. Stan looked at her, drained his glass, and rather pointedly looked at hers. She sighed, and tried again.

"What's at home that you need to get there so soon?"

"There's a program I always watch." While a true statement, it had already started ten minutes ago, and Stan really wasn't that interested. He just felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Look, I think we should go home now," he said.

He'd closed up again, Denise saw. Well, Elizabeth had said 'Baby Steps'. "Okay then, Stan, give me a moment and you can take me home."

In the car, Denise tried once more to begin a conversation, but now it really was battering against a solid wall and she felt that she should stop. So they arrived at her house in deafening silence.

Stan got out, opened the passenger door, and saw her to her front door like a gentleman, but his eyes were anywhere but on Denise. She stood on her doorstep for a moment, turned, and stopped him for a moment, her hand on his shoulder.

"Stan, have I done something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"No, Denise," he sighed, "nothing wrong. I just thought of Caron, that's all."

"Oh." 

There was not much more to be said, really, she thought. Certainly nothing she could think of.

"Well, goodnight, Stan. Thank you for taking me out tonight."

She bent and went to kiss him on the cheek, but he evaded and only accepted an air kiss.

He muttered something and walked back to his car, deep within himself. Denise waited 'til he'd got to his car, waved and closed the door. She collected her thoughts. She just knew there'd be a 'debrief' from Elizabeth in the morning.

Stan drove away on autopilot, seeing only dark eyes in a pale, porcelain-pure face. 





Equal Shares Ch. 02



Stan woke up, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, love, what was I thinking?" he softly told the beautiful dark eyes that only he could see.

Arriving at work, he said "Hi!" to Elaine, who replied, "Good morning! Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Stan walked almost to the door from reception to his office area, stopped, half turned to Elaine and said quietly, "Yes, thank you, Elaine." Before she could ask any more he opened the door and walked through.

Elizabeth was there, as usual, "Morning, Stan, how are you today?" She got her usual mutter in return, looked at him thoughtfully and decided not to ask any more. She had an alternate source, in any case.





Equal Shares Ch. 03



Chapter 3 

It was a month later. Denise and Stan had been on six dates now and were firmly established as real friends and not just as work colleagues. Denise chuckled in her mind about being 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend', but they both didn't really think of it that way.

At least, Stan didn't.

Denise found that she was thinking more and more about the way Stan held his chin in his hand sometimes, or his strange habit of whistling some unknown tune, often out of key, when he was thinking. Her own past relationships made her reluctant to consider anything closer, however.

On the plus side, Stan had ventured out of his depression and his colleagues were profoundly grateful. Elizabeth, in particular, was pleased to see her surrogate son looking and acting happier again.

It was an improvement professionally, as well. Last week, Bob had mentioned this to Stan, who sheepishly admitted that he'd been in a funk for a long time. Still, he'd told Bob, "I'm taking life a day at a time. Today I'm fine. Yesterday I'd been fine. Tomorrow? We'll see."





Equal Shares Ch. 04



Chapter 4

The notice had gone on the board weeks ago – the company barbeque would be held on the grounds on Friday, the 21st of July in the afternoon.

The Firm had a long-standing tradition of a 'summer do.' It had varied in the past from boat trips to a picnic in a park with a jazz band playing, but for the past several years it had been a barbeque, complete with spit-roast pig etc. Also laid on was entertainment – this year there was a live band – and drinks. Taxis would be available to take people home at the end. Another tradition was that people would make their way into the nearest town pub and continue the party there.

Stan was able to watch the large party tent being erected from his office. He told Elizabeth,

"You know, it's so much nicer here than it was at the old place. D'you remember the view we had then?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Yes, the Chicken Factory next door. Ugly as sin and smelly as well."

Elizabeth was watering Bob's plants. They joked that he was trying to build a hedgerow between his office and the outside world, although it wasn't really that bad. Bob was proud of his plants and Elizabeth liked them and enjoyed looking after them.

"I wish I could grow stuff," Stan grumbled. "I must have been born with brown fingers."

"You just don't care enough about it," Elizabeth returned, with a grin.

"If you cared about plants as much as you cared about music, you could grow things. But you always forget to water them, or you put them in the wrong place so they get direct sunlight when they'd thrive on shade, or something..." she said lightly. Stan could tell she was only mostly joking though. He looked back out the window.

"Uh huh. Oh, look. Do you think the Health & Safety people would approve of the way that guy's balancing on the top of the tent?"

Elizabeth looked. She said, "I don't know... Bob? You're the Safety guy. What do you think?

Bob emerged from his office, glanced over and, turning away, said, "I think I will go and get a coffee – I really didn't see that at all!"

The three of them laughed. That was a standing joke every year when the tent was erected... the crew never seemed to take safety precautions. On the other hand, it always seemed to be the same people, so they assumed no accidents occurred!

"Drinks with Denise again last night?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, down at the Mitre as usual."

"I'm glad you two have become friends. It means I don't have to look at such a grouch all day."

"Yes, I was pretty bad, wasn't I? Mind you," he went on, "I'm not all that full of the joys of spring now."

"Yes, Stan, I know. Yesterday you hardly said a word; no one could get through to you. Even when Denise came around to confirm for the Mitre you hardly spoke."

"I know. Yesterday was Caron's birthday. She'd have been 41."

'Oh dear,' Elizabeth thought, 'I'd forgotten.'

"Stan, are you okay?" she tenderly asked.

"I... I think so. Before I went out last night I went to the cemetery, and laid some flowers. Caron didn't mind me going for a drink with Denise, so that was all right."

Elizabeth blinked. There was a lengthy pause, and she was about to say something, when Stan continued,

"Denise and I got on well, actually. She wants me to go on the pub crawl on Friday."

"Well, you always used to!" Elizabeth told him.

"Yes, I know." He paused, then went on in a slightly more quiet tone, "I probably will. Let's see how I feel."

Stan glanced out of the window as a movement caught his eye.

"Christ! I've not seen them do that before!"





Equal Shares Ch. 05



Chapter 5

The following morning Stan woke up, did the painkillers-and-water routine, and he slowly put himself together.

He'd been very tired when he returned home the previous night and had fallen asleep the instant he hit the bed. This morning his thoughts kept replaying Denise's parting comment. His best friend was telling him, "You've got to get over it sometime... why not now?" 

'Doesn't she know the pain I've been going through? Doesn't she understand that I can't do that to Caron?' he thought.

On the verge of tears, he decided to try to cheer himself up with some breakfast, so he puttered around in his kitchen for a while, making toast and coffee. It allowed his body to continue on autopilot while beginning to think a little more rationally. The caffeine and calories would help improve matters, too.

Maybe Denise did understand, he decided a little while later. Perhaps he should call her, talk about it, find out what she meant.

Talking, yes. It's what friends did. 'Umm...'

He realised that, despite their friendship, he'd never called her at home. In fact, he didn't have her home phone number! After several moments of near panic he was able to remember her address and went to find a phone book.

Bottomley, D. wasn't there. She had an unlisted number. 'Shit!' 

'Elizabeth,' he thought. 'Elizabeth might have it.'

He did have Elizabeth's number; she'd been to dinner with Caron and Stan several times before last November.

"Elizabeth? It's Stan."

"Hello, Stan! What can I do for you?" she replied into his ear.

"Um... I was wondering, er, do you, um... Do you have Denise's number?"

"Why, Stan, I thought you were phoning to ask about me," she teased. Stan could only stammer in response, before she let him off the hook. "Sorry, Stan, I don't. I think Elaine might, though, and I've got her number. Do you want it?"

"Yes please, Elizabeth." She started to read it out to him, and he suddenly realised something, "Wait! I need to get a pen and paper." He heard a giggle from the other end as he grabbed for notepad and pen.

"Are you ready now?" she asked. He could see her arched eyebrow.

"Yup!" he said, with more confidence than he actually had.

She read out the number again, and he confirmed it back.

"Now," Elizabeth said, "What do you want to phone Denise for on a Saturday morning?"

He grimaced, and then realised Elizabeth couldn't see his expression. He said, "It's just something she said last night. I just wanted to chat with her."

"Can you tell me what it was she said, or is that a secret?"

"It was nothing much, I just want to chat. Cheers, Elizabeth, have a good weekend!" He rang off before Elizabeth could ask any more, took a deep breath, and called Elaine.

The phone rang several times before being answered, somewhat sleepily.

"Hi, is that Elaine?" Stan asked.

"No, it's not. Do you have a wrong number?"

"Oh. Wait, you're Susan, aren't you? This is Stan, from last night, I need a quick word with Elaine."

"Oh, OK, Stan, but you seriously want to wait until later. We didn't get to bed until three, and well, we didn't sleep right away..." He heard a giggle.

Stan apologised again, rang off, and waited. He put on some music – a little light classical stuff for now, he couldn't deal with anything heavy – read the paper, and chilled out.

He awoke with a start. The CD had finished, and the paper was on his lap, half unread. Blearily, he checked the time – eleven thirty. 'The morning's gone already,' he thought, chuckling to himself, 'Best I ring Elaine.' He dialled the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Elaine, it's Stan. You awake this time?"

Elaine laughed into the phone and Stan thought he could hear another giggle in the background as well.

"Susan still with you, then?" he asked, with a smile.

"Yes, she's right next to me. Do you want to know what we were doing?"

"Not right now, Elaine, I think that might be 'Too Much Information'. Actually, I'm trying to get hold of Denise. Elizabeth thought you might have her number."

"Oh. Wait a moment." She did.

She read out a number to him, which he confirmed back off of his notepad. Stan thought that Elaine sounded a little sheepish – or embarrassed?

"OK there, Elaine?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you on Monday," she replied.

"Oh. Okay," he said, and they hung up.

'What was THAT about,' he wondered.





Equal Shares Ch. 06



Chapter 6

On Monday morning, Denise found Stan early, before he'd even taken his jacket off.

"Stan, I think we need to talk. C'mon," she said, beckoning him.

"Now?" he said.

"Yes, Stan, now."

Stan looked at Denise and said, "Yes, you're probably right."

The Manufacturing Meeting Room was on the opposite side of the office from the main windows where morning sunlight streamed in. They went into the room and closed the door.

"Denise," began Stan, but Denise interrupted him, saying,

"Stan. Stop. This is my fault. Now, I'm not going to stop going for drinks or whatever with you, but I am going to look elsewhere for a boyfriend. I think that's what you want, and since you won't think of me that way, it's what I need to do.

"If that means that my boyfriend, whoever he might be, doesn't want me to spend time with you like that, then that's the way it will have to be."

As she was talking, an errant beam of sunlight reflected off a wall fixture and caught Denise's hair, lighting it up bright red. Stan was transfixed. He tore his mind back to what Denise had been saying...

"So this means we'll still be friends, yes?"

Denise softened her expression and smiled weakly at him. There was a curious mixture of emotions chasing themselves across his face. He seemed in turn relieved, upset and uncertain. She said,

"Yes, Stan, still friends. But I think it would be a good idea if you started finding some other friends to go out with, or found a hobby to give you a social life. Even if we're not going to be together in that way, I can still be a friend, but I shouldn't be your only social outlet."

"Right. Um, thanks, Denise," Stan said, after a moment. He continued, quietly, "You're right, of course. A true friend."

"Yes and this true friend's got work to do!" said Denise, crisply. Softening, she continued, "Are you okay, Stan?"

"Yes, fine. Thanks, Denise. I'll see you later."

"And we're still on for Wednesday night!" Denise answered from the doorway, before disappearing off to her own department.

Elizabeth, of course, took in the whole thing from her desk. She didn't know exactly what had been said, but she could guess the gist of it. Returning to his own desk, Stan confirmed it, saying,

"Denise just announced that she's going to be looking for a boyfriend. I think I'm relieved."

"I thought that's what you wanted, Stan. But, are you sure?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course. As Denise pointed out, though, it does mean I should expand my social circle a little."

Stan was silent for a moment, and then he continued,

"She said I should take up a hobby or something. I've never fancied golf, I can't stand the thought of fishing and I can't dance. Any ideas?"

"Can you play cards?" Elizabeth asked, waiting for the answer she knew was coming. They'd played this particular game before. Sure enough, Stan came back with,

"I don't gamble."

"Neither do I," it was a challenge. But this time, Stan surprised her, saying,

"Okay, you're on. 'Strip snap?' "

Elaine could hear the laughter from within reception!





Equal Shares Ch. 06



After a while, Stan began to lose his self-consciousness and enjoy himself. Belinda was superb at putting him at ease, seeming to know instinctively when he would make a wrong move and nimbly avoiding his foot without fuss. She gaily chatted away while gently teasing information out of him about his wife, what happened and how he felt, what had got him interested in the class and so on.

When Stan told her that it was his friend Denise's idea to come here, she asked him, "Can you describe the young filly?" He did so, mentioning her long red hair and freckled complexion.

Belinda said "Oh yes, I remember. She didn't take many lessons, but picked up the basics quite well. I heard that she started going out with a chap she met here. That sort of thing happens quite often. Sometimes I tease Yves about running a dating service rather than a dance class. Still, there are many who come back week after week."

Too soon, Yves called for a ten-minute break. The studio supplied soft drinks, bottled water, instant tea or coffee in plastic cups, and Stan opted for bottled water. Pamela approached him, and asked in a light, slightly higher than expected voice, "Did you enjoy that?" Pamela's dark chestnut hair was tied simply back, and she had minimal makeup on, but Stan reflected that she didn't really need a lot.

"Yes, I did. I was surprised, actually. I was very nervous coming here, but they're very good at putting you at ease."

"Yes, they are," Pamela agreed. "You looked terrified at first, but you seem much better now."

Pamela was a pleasant, self-confident young woman who was attending a local university. She wanted to go into Marketing once she'd graduated. She told Stan that the ability to dance would probably be useful, since it taught poise and elegance that made anyone look more self confident than they really were, and a lot of presentations needed just that to make them work.

"With enough confidence you can sell anything to anyone!" she declared. Stan nodded, unable to disagree openly with the girl, but inwardly not quite so sure – there had to be a product worth selling first, he thought.

Belinda called the break over, and picked Pamela's previous partner to dance with. Pamela shrugged a little and turned to Stan. "You've got me!" she said. The music began, Yves counted them in, and off they went.

Stan was concentrating much more in the second session, intent on NOT stepping on Pamela's toes. He got into the rhythm of it after a while and once again started to enjoy himself. With about ten minutes to go, Yves again called a halt, and said that he and Belinda would demonstrate how it could be done.

He started the music, stepped over to his wife, and they put on a thrilling display of a Foxtrot. When the music finished, Stan and several others spontaneously applauded. Belinda curtseyed, Yves took a small bow, the class was reminded to arrive at the same time next week, and Belinda went to the door showing each of her pupils out.

Stan thanked Belinda for the lesson. She told him he'd picked things up quite well in his first lesson, "so next week we'll try to do it without me having to take evasive action!" Stan blushed, but she smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, telling him, "Don't worry, I'm teasing. I told you, you did well on your first night."

Stan drove home reflecting that Denise's idea had, indeed, been a good one.





Equal Shares Ch. 07



Elizabeth was, of course, all over him on Tuesday morning, wanting to know how the dance lesson had gone.

"Well, thank you, Elizabeth. I actually enjoyed it."

"Good. So, what's it like? What did you do?"

So, Stan briefly described the hall, and told her that they'd begun learning the Foxtrot.

"Ah, yes. My mum and dad used to do all of those. She tried to teach me once, but I never really got it. I was more into rock'n'roll," she said.

Then, "Did you meet anyone?" she asked

"Well, I met Yves and Belinda, the teachers. They're wonderful, you should see them dance together. Belinda must have been one hell of a catch when she was younger, she's still a real beauty. Yves is a foreigner, comes from Spain or somewhere, I can't quite make out where. Strange accent. But oh, God, can those two dance!"

Elizabeth said, "I'm glad to see they made an impression on you." After a moment, she prodded, "Anyone else?"

The look was innocent, the question anything but. Stan knew what she was driving at. He thought briefly of Pamela, but dismissed the idea – he was far too old. "No, not really. There were about seven of us, all beginner level, although I was the only one who started last night."

"So, did you talk to them?"

Again, Stan thought of Pamela.

"No, not really. Just chit-chat," he said, finally.

Elizabeth regarded him over their desks for a moment. Finally, she said, 

"Well, it all has to start somewhere. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Now..." and they began discussion of work.





Equal Shares Ch. 08



On Wednesday morning two things were delivered to The Firm. One was a printout of a picture e-card, sent from her hotel on Ibiza, from Denise to "All at The Firm". Denise had written, "Having a great time, nightlife is wonderful!" and signed it with a kiss. Elaine pinned it up on the notice board, as was usual for holiday postcards. Stan noticed it as he went for a coffee that morning.

He read the card and smiled, thinking, 'So much for spending the nights in bed!' He just hoped Denise was being careful.





Equal Shares Ch. 08



The meal progressed. The menu at Apricots was excellent and Stan enjoyed the meal. He had the Chicken Supreme, which came with spinach, toasted pine nuts and cream cheese stuffing, wrapped in Parma ham. It was truly excellent. He noted that Anne had only eaten a small part of her vegetable gateaux. At his raised eyebrow she said,

"No, it's actually very good. But I won't be able to fit into dresses like this if I don't watch my diet a little, and I like puddings!"

"Ah, so another secret about the divine Anne comes out: she's got a sweet tooth!" he teased.

She looked at him from between the curls of her fine blonde hair. "And don't you ferget it!" she said in a mock western drawl. "Besides, have you had the desserts here? They're wonderful!"

The desserts came and went. Stan declined, Anne had an Apricot and Almond Tart, and enjoyed it with obvious relish and they were into coffee when Stan heard music begin.

He looked around and saw that a trio had set up, and were just checking the tuning of their instruments. "Bass, keyboards and trombone – we're in for some jazz tonight it seems," he said.

Percy spoke up, "Yes, they've been running some live jazz music here for a while. We were a bit early, I'm afraid, but then we were quite lucky to get tables at all."

By the time the liqueurs had been brought the band was well into a groove. Stan was torn between the desire to look at Anne, the obligation to sit in his chair facing the table, and the compulsion to turn his chair around to watch the band play.

Anne sipped at her fruit juice. She looked to her right, behind Stan.

"I wish I could do that you know, but I never learned. There were formal dances and such at Talbot Heath, where I went to school, but I avoided them because I was too busy studying."

Stan turned in his seat, holding his whisky glass. A couple was dancing, rather well, to the music.

"They're quite good I think. This is a pretty slow number, it's a foxtrot. I never thought you could do a formal dance like that to jazz music, but I suppose the tempo and rhythm fit."

Anne looked at him as if he'd come from Mars.

"Oh no. I'm no expert," Stan denied. "I've just had a couple of lessons. It's just that both lessons were learning to foxtrot."

"You're taking dance lessons?" Anne asked. Stan confirmed,

"Yes, it's at a place called YB Dance Studio. As I said, I've only had a couple of lessons at the beginner level, but I've enjoyed it." 

Without thinking he continued, "Why don't you come along and learn with me?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could pull them back. Stan felt himself flush. How had he managed to say that?

Anne looked thoughtfully at the dancers for a moment. She said,

"I've often wondered why I never learned, really. I mean it wasn't a compulsory class, and I always felt there were more important things, academically, that I needed to learn. But now when I see people dancing, I mean dancing properly like that, I wish I'd made the time." Turning to look directly at Stan she said,

"So yes. You can take me to the dance school. But first you can tell me all about it and how come you're going. Right after I've been to the Ladies."





Equal Shares Ch. 09



Chapter 9

Stan woke up late Saturday morning.

At first he lay still while he put his scattered mind back together. Then he rolled onto his back, whispered, "Good morning, love," and went over what had happened last night.

With the morning sunlight flickering through the curtains, last night's events didn't seem so momentous. Last night he'd thought the evening was incredible. He'd spoken to Anne in a non-work setting; it had been almost as if they'd been to a dinner date on their own. Now, this morning, he felt that he'd over-dramatised it. It hadn't been a non-work setting after all. Percy and Rick had been right there at their table. And yet...

And yet they'd all but completely disappeared from his mind last night. To him, it had felt like the only person there with him was Anne. What did that mean?

It meant he'd betrayed Caron. 'Oh, God, forgive me!' he thought and he saw in his mind's eye his wife's loving eyes, bright with amusement. Did that mean she gave her blessing? 'Do you mean that, love?' he asked her, and felt a warmth run through him as it came to him that Caron would want him to live on, and that included the romantic part of his life too. Stan felt a great weight lifting from over him. It wasn't a physical thing, more like an oppressive feeling that had now dissipated.

Now he had things to do. Stan went about his morning routine while thinking through his next move. He needed to get in touch with Belinda or Yves and ask if Anne could come along to the next class. He thought he'd better do that as soon as he'd had breakfast. 

He got his morning coffee and a bowl of cereal and sat down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Over his cereal he thought about what he wanted to happen. He wanted to actually go out with Anne, not just to a dance class as a friend, but as a boyfriend. Ha! A boyfriend who was almost ten years her senior. Did he really think he had anything to offer such a wonderful person?

"Oh God, I'm going to have to ask her out!" he groaned. In all his life he'd only ever done that once, to Caron, the first time. After that, with Caron, things had just... happened. Caron had initiated everything. In fact, he'd come to understand that she'd fished for him and hooked him beautifully, including the beautifully engineered opening that Emma had so brilliantly carried out. In truth, Stan had never stood a chance, but he'd gone willingly to his doom.

It wasn't going to be the same with Anne, since she'd expect him to at least make the first steps himself. His doubts returned. 'She's surely not going to want anything more than a dance lesson with me,' he thought.

Well, in the minibus last night she'd consented to taking dance classes. He'd promised to make the arrangements, so he'd better get on with it, he mused. 'Time passes quickly enough with my woolgathering.' 

Finished with his breakfast, he rinsed out his bowl and mug and set them to drain. He grabbed his phone and dialled the dance studio.

After a few rings, he heard Belinda's cultured voice, "Hello, YB Dance Studio, how can I help?"

"Hi Belinda, it's Stan Hinch. How are you? Have you got a moment?"

"Oh, Hello Stan. Yves and I are fine, busy but fine. Nice to hear from you, nothing bad I hope?" she said.

"No, no, quite the opposite I think. I've got someone who'd like to come along to class, if that's all right. But she wants to come on Monday."

"Oh, that'll be fine, Stan," Belinda replied. "We'll be starting the Quickstep on Monday, so you'll be beginners together for that. Are you going to be bringing her, Stan?" Something in her voice told Stan her eyes were twinkling, even though she was miles away on the other end of a phone line.

"Erm, yes, er, Yeah. Sorry. Yes, I'll be bringing her. The name's Anne Berkely."

"Okay then Stan, I'll see you on Monday night. With Anne. I look forward to meeting her!" Belinda rang off with the faintest of quiet laughter.





Equal Shares Ch. 10



It was Monday morning, the 14th of August. Sixty-one years ago, Japan had surrendered to the Allies. Stan knew exactly how they felt. His body was battered by lack of sleep and his eyes were terribly gritty. He needed a shave, coffee, a shower, coffee, breakfast, coffee, some painkillers and coffee – and not necessarily in that order.

So he forced himself into action, putting on his underwear and grabbing painkillers and a glass of water first, then putting a very strong pot of coffee on. He headed into the bathroom, took care of business and padded back into the bedroom where he got dressed before wandering into the kitchen.

There he downed the first of his cups of coffee and made breakfast. He'd consumed two cups of the strong black coffee by the time he'd finished eating. He poured another cup and walked with a little more security into the living room. He switched on the TV, more in order to keep track of time than to actually watch it.

As he sipped his third cup of the morning, he took stock of how he felt. The tears of last night had eventually stopped but he still felt a deeper sense of loss than he had for quite a while. On the other hand, he had felt worse before, so he was still, he supposed, making progress. 'Of a sort!' he thought.

Well, moping wouldn't cure it. "You have to get over this sometime," he reminded himself aloud. He switched off the TV, put his cup into the sink and took himself off to work.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elaine took one look at him as he walked in and said "Stan, are you okay? You look terrible!"

"Yeah, Just a bad night, that's all. How're you?"

"Oh, I'm peachy keen, thank you very much!" she replied, bouncing slightly on her chair. Her enthusiasm and good humour were infectious. Stan asked "So why your good mood this morning?"

Elaine settled back into her chair and blushed slightly. "Well, I kinda got woken up the right way," she said with a self-satisfied grin. Stan couldn't help himself, he said, "I'm glad someone did!" and smiled a little wanly before turning and walking towards the office. He stopped and turned before reaching the door.

"Heard any more from Denise?" he asked.

"No, not yet," replied Elaine. "I'm sure she's fine Stan, having fun. You know, like young people do?" she teased.

Attempting to hold back a grin Stan tried to look severe as he said "Now just you look here you little whippersnapper, young people should give their elders some respect!" but he failed dismally, bursting into laughter. He almost forgot how tired he was.

Elizabeth was, of course, already at her desk when Stan got to his. She too looked at him and asked, "Are you all right, Stan?"

"I might as well put a notice out, 'Stan is feeling tired, very, very tired, today' and be done with it," he grumbled. But Elaine's contagious good mood had got to him. Plus he had something to look forward to.

He leaned forward and spoke quietly to Elizabeth, "You know it's my dance lesson tonight?"

Elizabeth nodded. He continued, "And, it looks like I'll have company. Anne wants to learn, too."

"How on earth did you manage that, Stan?" she asked him in surprise.

Stan shrugged. "I dunno, just did!" he said, eyes down in front of him at his desk.

"Well done, anyway!" Elizabeth told him, with a grin.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that morning, Anne came to see him. She took his 'visitor's chair' and pulled it up closer to him. She wasn't that close, but Stan still felt a slightly guilty thrill.

"What are you wearing tonight, Stan?" she asked him.

"What? Oh, er, well I expect it'll be the same as I wore Friday night. I don't have special clothes for dancing."

"Oh. Okay then. I just thought you might have something more, well... glitzy."

Stan couldn't help but smile.

"No, nothing more glitzy, or glamorous. We're not talking competitive dancing you know!"

"All right then, what colour tie?" was Anne's next question.

"I beg your pardon?" came Stan's bemused response.

Patiently, Anne repeated, "Tie colour?"

Stan realized she was serious and wanted to match his colouring. He thought for a moment and said, "Blue. Blue tie."

Anne smiled. "See? Not so hard, was it? You were taught well."

Stan thought for a moment, and then admitted, "It was Caron. She tried hard, but little of it stuck. I can't colour-coordinate to save my life, really. I've never understood why 'Blue and Green should never be seen', after all if you look out of the window, you'll see grass and sky, which look fine together to me!"

"That's OK, just let me sort out what will work with you. Men!"

Anne smiled and finished with, "See you tonight then. What time are you picking me up?"

"Just before seven o'clock. It's a half hour drive and starts at seven forty five, and we want to get there a little before the start to get the paperwork for you done."

- - - - - - - - - -

Sure enough, at ten to seven Stan was outside Anne's house. She'd needed to give him directions as he didn't know where she lived, although it wasn't all that far from his place.

Anne lived in a small house, but it was in one of the nicer parts of a very nice little satellite village just outside the town. Actually, it was more like a cottage. Her small garden was well tended and full of flowers, Stan noted. 'How in heck does she make time for that?' he thought.

He rang the doorbell and after a moment Anne opened it. Given the fact that she was an inch taller than him to start with, the effect of the doorstep and the heels she was wearing put him face to face with something other than her face! He blushed.

Anne's apricot coloured dress was cut low in the front. Once Stan had stepped back he could see that the skirt was long but made with wide pleats, allowing her to move. She'd adorned it with a small but very nice sapphire brooch, which matched her dangly earrings. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head. Finally getting himself together, Stan whistled.

Anne merely looked like she was anticipating something. "You look like a million dollars!" he finally managed. She smiled and coloured a little. "I thought a little effort was in order," she said. Stan's rejoinder was, "That's more than a little. You'll have the other ladies envious, and the men desperate to dance with you."

"Oh. It's not too much is it? I can change..."

"No you can't, we'll be late. Besides, why change? It's fantastic, Anne. Come on." Stan said, and took her hand. He opened the car door and closed it after she was seated, then went around to the driver's side, started the car, and drove off.

During the journey they chatted a little. Anne told a bit about her time at school in Bournemouth.

"It's called Talbot Heath School. They score very highly in the league tables for their exam results, and it's quite exclusive. I was lucky that I got a partial scholarship. Even so, my parents had to do without to send me there and I'm very grateful. How about you?"

Stan told about his school. Edward Driver School had been the former Grammar school in his town. Stan told her, "It was only single-sex because the headmaster there had stayed on after it lost Grammar school status. He didn't want 'distractions', so he found ways not to spend the money that would have been needed to go co-ed."

They were amused to find they'd both gone to single-sex schools. Anne had gone on to university at Imperial College in London. She'd got a "2:1" degree, which meant she'd just barely failed to get the highest class result. "I was so, so disappointed with that. I really wanted that 1st Class degree, but I'd not put in as much study as I should have. Then I tried to make it up at the end and it just wasn't enough. So since then I've put more effort into my work, and it's paid off."

Stan told her that he'd never attended university. "I went straight to work. The company I was with sent me off to college one full day a week, I got my diploma that way. Aside from some courses I've taken at home on-line, that's it."

"Do you think you lost or gained out of going to a single-sex school, Stan?" Anne asked.

"A bit of both. In the short term, I think I gained; the Head was right about the fewer distractions thing. Had I been thinking then of university and so on it might have made a difference as to which ones I could get in.

"In the long term, it didn't gain me much academically and it really constrained my development socially. I needed a clear 'come ahead' to get the get-up-and-go to ask Caron out. She told me later it was one of the things she liked about me, that I was shy but not so shy as to be a social cripple.

"As I got older, I got a little bolder. I found that I could, sometimes, talk to someone I didn't know at a meeting or sales pitch or whatever. But although I like company, I'm still not comfortable in crowds, and strangers in social settings are definitely intimidating. What about yourself?"

Anne replied, "Oh, it wasn't a problem for me. Besides, Linwood School was only a short way away, and it was mixed. We weren't supposed to have anything to do with them of course, but I found that the older boys certainly wanted something to do with me, well, at least once these two," she said, looking down, "started arriving. I was flat as a pancake until I was almost sixteen. They're still not big though, are they?"

Stan, his eyes firmly on the road, merely said, "Big enough." 

Anne smiled. "It's okay, Stan, I don't mind you looking at them. Well, I do mind now, you're driving. It's different at work. People treat me in a different way just because I'm a bit pretty and I've got a nice figure. I want to be recognised for what I've done, and what I can do, not because I've a nice face, blonde hair and a cute butt."

"Hmmm, have you had Quality Control check out that butt of yours for cuteness?" Stan said, grinning while he drove.

"Not yet, but I'm sure you'll be doing that tonight, now!" laughed Anne.

Stan had just about reached the old school and he spotted a parking space. He grabbed it immediately, and said, "Well, we're here, more or less. Are you ready to brave the hordes, including Yves?"

Anne nodded, so Stan got out and opened her door for her. "Why thank you, kind sir," Anne said with a mock upper class accent. "Better not make fun like that with Belinda, she's the real deal," warned Stan, closing the door and locking the car.

"That's what you said, Friday. She is nice, isn't she? Not like those stuck-up rich bitches I had to put up with at Talbot Heath?" Anne was clearly worried, so Stan tried to comfort her.

"Belinda's a genuine lady, I like her a lot," he said. "Be at ease, young Berkeley, I will allow no harm to come to you!" he declaimed, while making vague fencing type motions.

"Why, kind sir, with you to protect me I shall fear nothing!" Anne answered in kind, mock swooning. The two laughed together, and Stan then escorted Anne into the old school where the all unknowing 'enemy' was waiting.

It was indeed Belinda who met them. She looked up from her pocketbook as the two came in through the door, and smiled, saying, "Ah, you must be Anne!" She held the younger woman at arms length, and declared, "My goodness, we'll have to help you fend the boys off, you look wonderful!" Turning to Stan, she said, "Stanley, hello again. Lovely to see you."

Belinda took Anne off to complete her registration, so Stan entered the main hall.

It looked like most of the usual suspects were there. One of the older gents hadn't made it yet, but Pamela and Carol had arrived. So had Tom, he saw with some disquiet, but he didn't really have anything against the man, so he approached him and said "Hi!"

Tom replied, "Hi yourself!" and the two got to swapping general chitchat.

After a while they ran down. In the silence Tom said, "Pamela turned me down, the tease. I thought I'd get at least a dinner date, but no, nada, nothing. Well, you can lead a horse to water, as they say. You fancy a go?"

Stan thought: first, 'I'm glad that Pamela knocked him back!'; second, 'He was inhumanly coarse in that last remark!'; and third of course, that 'No! I don't want Pamela, I want Anne!'

Luckily Yves came into the hall to call the class to order. As he did, Belinda glided in with Anne. Stan could hear Tom's eyes click around.

Stan found himself partnered with Carol again. He noticed with amusement that Pamela had managed to grab one of the older gents, and that Tom found himself partnered by a matron whose flowery dress required an impressive square footage of fabric.

Anne was, of course, to be partnered by Yves for this first lesson. But first Yves led Belinda around the floor showing, at about a quarter speed, the steps. Next they did the same to some music, and only then did Belinda surrender Yves so he could gather Anne into his arms.

Belinda set the music off, and then watched the couples for a while as they moved across the floor. Yves meanwhile, after making Anne laugh with a comment and an exaggerated leer, was showing her the moves in the same way Belinda had shown Stan in his first lesson. Stan had to concentrate hard in order to keep up, so he was unable to spare much time even to watch Anne.

Carol must have caught him though. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Stan's absentminded reply of, "Yes, she is," may not have been entirely tactful seeing as he had her hand in his, and his other hand on her shoulder. She hesitated a moment which was just enough to make Stan lose his rhythm.

Carol gave him a black look for a moment but obviously decided to let him off. Stan recovered his wits (and his place in the steps) and the pair continued. Stan said, quietly, "Sorry," and she actually smiled at him. "She is. Do you know her?"

"I work with her, actually," Stan explained. "I told her about the dance classes and she was keen to come along."

"You're a lucky man, Stanley!" Carol told him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Shortly afterwards Belinda called for a halt and tea. Anne rushed over to Stan, clearly very happy indeed.

"I should've done this ages ago!" she told him, grabbing his arm. "Let's see what refreshments they've got for us!"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up too high if I were you," Stan said, "It's not much." That didn't stop Anne dragging him over to the tables where it was set up.

"Coo. It's like going to the Tuck Shop at school," she remarked. 

"You still had a Tuck Shop at Talbot Heath?" Stan asked her with amusement. The 'Tuck Shop', a place inside the school where, at break times, you could buy potato chips, doughnuts, sticky buns, sweets and canned drinks had disappeared from almost all the schools even when Stan had been there, seven years before Anne.

"Yes, well, Talbot Heath was a throwback in many ways. That was just one of them." She grabbed a roll and a can of diet cola. Stan stuck with his bottle of water.

"How'd you like it, Anne?" he asked, adding "Pick it up okay?"

"I think the ballet training I was forced into is helping, actually!" she replied. Stan looked the question. "School. There was a ballet school only a mile away, and we 'girls' had to take lessons. Supposed to make us more graceful. Anyway, I think those lessons are helping me because I learned to pick up choreography, and something relatively simple like this comes quite easily. Of course, there's a big difference between ballroom dancing and ballet."

Soon enough Belinda restarted the lesson. Stan was delighted to be partnered with Pamela this time. The chestnut haired young woman and he had fun with their dances, although Stan still felt he was concentrating too much on the steps to really enjoy it. Pamela had picked the dance up well.

Then came Yves and Belinda's demonstration dance. Anne quickly moved to Stan's side, and Stan grinned when he saw Tom's eyes widen as he saw the move. Better yet, Pamela was still next to him on his other side!

'I could get used to this,' he thought.

It got even better when Pamela snuggled in tightly to his right side, and Anne responded by doing the same to his left. The two ladies leaned forward slightly, exchanging a knowing glance. Stan was in a state, unable to work out whether embarrassment, delight or desire should take the leading role in his emotions. Tom looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Both men were red in the face, but for very different reasons.

Too soon, Yves and Belinda called an end to the evening and his two captors released Stan. Anne quietly giggled when she saw the pole-axed expression on his face. She grinned at Pamela, who winked and sauntered off.

As Anne and Stan made their way back to the car, Anne, smiling, asked, "So what's the story about Pamela then? Fancying the younger woman, are we?"

The colder outside air had brought Stan back to his senses, but he was still a little embarrassed. He answered, 

"Pamela's a student. She's going into marketing when she graduates, and wanted to learn dancing as a confidence booster, and something to improve posture and poise."

"Ooh," he interrupted himself, "That's why you're so poised, isn't it? The ballet?"

"Mmm, yes. I thought it a waste of time then, but it did have benefits," Anne confirmed. She prompted, "You were saying about Pamela?" 

"Um, yes. Pamela was my first dance partner after Belinda let me loose. Hey, wait a minute – Yves got you to himself all evening, didn't he? Sly old devil!" Stan said.

They'd got to the car by this point. Stan opened the passenger door and let Anne in, before walking around to the driver's side. Once they were going, he picked up the conversation.

"Anyway," he continued, "Pamela and I got on fine, and I managed not to break her toes! We had a good laugh about my 'ability', in fact. Then, last week, that Tom guy partnered her, and he was doing his best to get his hands all over her. He told me that he'd asked her to dinner and she'd turned him down. So I guess that was Pamela's way of telling him he had no chance, yes?"

"I think so," said Anne. "Mind you, I had to snuggle up close as well, else she'd have thought you were hers!"

'Does that mean you think I'm yours?' Stan thought, hope and confusion mingling. Soon it was replaced by fear and desire. 'Caron, what do I do?' he begged silently. He could feel Caron laughing at him, she didn't seem upset, just amused. 'That doesn't help!' he chided.

The moment had passed, however, and soon enough he'd reached Anne's cottage. He parked, got out and went around to her side. With a flourish he opened the door, and Anne emerged with exaggerated dignity, nose held high.

"Thank you, my man. You may escort me to my door," she told him haughtily, but ruined it by breaking into a wide smile. She put her arm on his and he walked her up the short path to her front door. She turned to him and said, "Well, good night then, Stan. That was fun."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" he answered.

For a moment he felt he should say more, but he hesitated, and it was gone. His mouth had gone dry, he felt flushed and hoped that it wasn't too obvious in the streetlight. He stammered out a "G-good night, Anne!" and almost bolted, just managing to catch himself and slow down. He could feel eyes on him from the doorway, then he heard a key in a lock, the door opening and Anne's footsteps as she wiped her feet on the doormat. He turned, just in time to catch the door closing. He turned back, walked to his car and got in. He put the key in the lock, but before turning it he held his head in his hands.

In the relative privacy of his car, he shouted at himself, "You IDIOT! Why couldn't you just say something?"




Equal Shares Ch. 10



'Fear,' he told himself. Fear of rejection, fear of the unknown, fear (still) of upsetting Caron. He told himself he was a coward. Then he told himself that tomorrow he'd be a man and ask her for a date. 'Yes. Of course I will. Tomorrow' he thought.

"Yeah, right."

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 11



Chapter 11

After a fitful night, Stan got up in the morning feeling tired and somehow unkempt. A shower and a shave later it was only tiredness, but Stan couldn't get the grittiness out of his eyes. His 20-20 hindsight was telling him that there were all sorts of things he could have said last night, the most important of which would have been "Can I take you out for a drink next week?" or something similar. In his wildest fantasies Anne invited him in for 'coffee'- an invitation that would maybe then lead to lovemaking.

But then his doubts came back in full force. Anne was beautiful, why'd she want to go with him? Surely she already had a boyfriend, maybe more than that? She was far too intelligent for him, he'd never be able to keep up. She was so beautiful...

Stan's thoughts went back and forth like this for a while, gradually intermixing and becoming more chaotic. Suddenly he looked at his watch. Uh – oh. It was already after eight thirty! Stan was late. Time to move.

Stan ruthlessly suppressed all thought of Anne for a while as he frantically got ready for work. In any event, he needn't have worried. Bob had left a message with Elaine that he was going to be late too – one of his daughters had had a minor but messy accident and had needed to go to hospital. As Stan entered his office he knew he'd have to stand in for Bob, doing a lot of his work this morning. So it proved, and Stan was immensely busy for the first couple of hours.

Stan looked up as Bob entered.

"Hi Bob, how's Mary?"

"Oh, that daughter of mine's a trial, but she's fine, she's fine. Silly girl managed to drop a cast iron saucepan, she tried to cushion the fall by putting her foot under it!"

"She okay?" Stan asked, concerned.

"Oh, yes, she's in pain, but there's nothing broken and the hospital's provided her with painkillers."

"Did the doctor say any more about the injury, Bob?" asked Elizabeth.

"No, not much. 'Nothing broken, just soft tissue injury. No long term consequences.' was the gist of it." Bob replied.

"I wouldn't think there'd be any long term problems Bob," said the older lady. "I know I haven't practised for a long time, Bob, but simple injuries like that don't change over time. She'll be fine, Bob."

Being a former nurse, albeit a long time ago, her reassurances made Bob feel better, even though the doctor at the hospital had said much the same. Stan brought him up to date with the latest dealings and got on with his own work

It was lunchtime before Stan knew it. He stood up and stumbled into the canteen, hoping to catch sight of Anne. His hope was not fulfilled.

Today's main meal offering was spaghetti carbonara, allegedly. It was edible and cheap, but Stan suspected that a true connoisseur would have blown a gasket. Some fruit squash and a cup of coffee later and Stan felt better, at least.

Stan resolved to head straight to the design lab, but was intercepted by one of the salesmen with a customer problem, and before Stan knew it he was fully back in work mode.

It wasn't until later in the afternoon that Stan was able to get free for a few minutes. Before he could move, Elizabeth came into the office and called, "Wait a moment please, Stan."

Stan, who had half risen, sat back down again.

Elizabeth sat at her desk. She leaned forward and told him,

"A little birdy in Personnel tells me that it's Anne's birthday tomorrow. Have you got her anything?"

"Er, no!" Stan thought for a moment, and then continued, "I'll have to get her something tonight. God knows what. I need to get a card, and think about wrapping paper, and... wait a minute. Why'd they tell you it was Anne's birthday tomorrow?"

Elizabeth looked a little smug. She said,

"Your face yesterday told me all I needed to know. Whenever Anne walks in the room you take notice. Also, you two have been, well, 'getting along famously,' since last week. Elaine noticed it too. You know what the speed of gossip is, Stan!

"So when Faye in personnel saw me, she 'Just Happened To Mention It'. Like I said before, Stan, it's a good job you let us organise things for you!"

Stan was dumbfounded. What did Anne think? Does she know? In fact... well. 'Better to ask a question of Elizabeth than to court disaster through ignorance,' he thought.

"Does Anne know this, do you think?" he asked her.

"I'm supposed to say something like, 'Only if she's not blind and stupid', Stan," she told him, gently, "but in this case I think she's as blinkered as you are."

"Really?" Stan didn't know what to think. Was that good or bad?

"Mmm. So, when you give her the card and present that you'll be buying and wrapping tonight, you can ask her out as well, can't you. Perfect opportunity, Stan. Take it!"

Stan grabbed his forelock with his right hand, looked down and said, "Yes, ma'am!"





Equal Shares Ch. 11



"How about Tennants?" he asked Elizabeth.

"It's a good place. I've been there many times," said Elizabeth. She didn't exactly have a string of studs on call, but she did have an active social life: "There're miles on the clock," as she'd said to Stan last summer, "and the chassis is more upholstered than before, but the engine still runs and I know how to take the curves!" Sometimes Elizabeth could be outrageous, and Stan had roared with laughter, he remembered.

"Anyway, Stan, I need a little help. Could you..." and Elizabeth went on to describe a problem she had with a test she was running. With a sigh, Stan went back to work.

Not soon enough, it was half past four and Elizabeth was saying "Good-bye and Good Luck!" to him as she left. Stan kept on, tinkering with the test jig that Elizabeth had been using, trying not to think about the time. The minute hand of the clock seemed to take forever to climb up towards the twelve.

Eventually, after an aeon, it did. Stan walked through into reception, where he had to run the gauntlet of Elaine. Normally, he didn't really mind, but this time he had somewhere to go!

"Hi Stan, what are you up to?"

Stan hurried through, merely wishing Elaine a "Good night!" on his way. He caught a glimpse of Elaine's wide, wide smile as he hurried by. 'She's another who knows far, far too much!' he grumbled to himself, but he didn't really mean it.

He had an oddball grin on his face as he entered the lab where Anne was standing, waiting for him. Her face lit up in an arc-light smile as she saw him, and he felt his spirit lift in response.

Without words, they sat together as they had earlier in the afternoon. Each went to speak, mouths opening in unison, and they hesitated together. Finally Anne grinned and said "You first, then Stan. If I recall correctly, you asked me out..."

Stan couldn't help it, he blushed crimson. 

"Yes. Yes, I did, didn't I, sort of. Let's see if I can do it properly, then."

"Anne, would you like to go out with me? Tonight? I thought we could go to Tennants."

"Where's that, Stan? More importantly, what is it?"

This was NOT going as planned.

"Um. It's a wine bar in town. I... I've been there a few times. It's got small tables and low light, so we can be private, and they do excellent food there, too, if you'd like. It's er, sort of – well, cosy. We used to like going there." Stan had been going to say intimate, following his thoughts of earlier, but felt that was not quite the note he wanted for this early in the relationship.

"Who did you go there with, Stan?" Anne asked, quietly.

'Yes, that's right. It had, of course, been Caron.' He looked at Anne, then his eyes unfocussed and he seemed to go away from her for a moment. He came back to her, looking her intently in the eye.

"It'll be okay, Anne. It'll be fine."

Anne didn't understand what had just happened, but she decided to file and understand later. In the meantime, she'd take it at face value. So, she said,

"Good. Then I'd be glad to go there with you tonight. What time were you thinking of?"

"Oh, let's say about eight?" Stan thought aloud.

"That's fine. What sort of place is it. I mean, is it dressy?"

"Well, it's not like Apricot's, but it's not a spit'n'sawdust pub, either. So, you'll want something nice, but not flashy, I guess. If it helps, I'll be wearing a shirt and a sports jacket, no tie."

Anne grinned. "That's good, Stan. Now, what colour?"

"Grey jacket. I don't know what colour shirt. Or anything else at the moment. I'm not sure I know my own name! Did I tell you that you're beautiful?"

"Flatterer! Now go! Go on, I need to get home and get ready for my date tonight. Shoo!"

Stan went, his smile wide, his eyes bright. He had a date with Anne and Caron still loved him. All was well with the world.





Equal Shares Ch. 12



Stan returned home, quivering. He felt full of energy and unable to be still, like he'd had several espressos, one after the other in quick succession. He bounced around from room to room, unable to settle into doing anything useful before he managed to bring himself to a halt.

"Settle down, Stan," he told himself aloud, "Get a grip. It's just a date, you're not getting married!"

He forced himself to schedule things: shower, followed by a change of clothes, a quick snack, then listen to some soothing music. Oh, wait, better have the snack first – he didn't want to drip strawberry jam down his clean shirt, and that would be bound to happen. Actually, better the music first.

Mozart's Wind Serenade filled the living room, and Stan sat, seeking a little peace at last. He still didn't believe it, he was going to go on a date with Anne. Anne!

So. He listened to the sweet sounds as they soothed him, 'Like the savage beast!' he thought with a grin, then when it finished, he took a deep breath.

Food first. Stan went to the kitchen and made himself a strawberry jam sandwich, a glass of water and a cup of coffee. He sat at the breakfast bar and munched his way through the sandwich, sipping at his water. Once finished eating, he drank the rest of the water and took his coffee into the living room. He picked up Neil Gaiman's graphic novel Brief Lives, and began to re-read it. By the time he'd finished the coffee he was well into the book... feeling much more relaxed.

He went upstairs to their – his – bedroom. He started picking out clothes to wear, starting with socks and underwear, then chose a pair of grey lightweight trousers and a blue shirt. His jacket he took out of the wardrobe, hanging it on the peg on the back of the door while he laid the rest of his clothes on his bed.

He walked into the bathroom, started the water running in the shower and quickly stripped, clearing the pockets of his trousers and checking the pocket of his shirt before putting them all in the laundry basket.

He showered long, luxuriously. His hair, thinning though it was, still got a good wash in a tea-tree oil shampoo. He put some shower gel onto a flannel, folded it over and massaged up a lather, washing diligently.

Coming out of the shower, he dried completely before applying deodorant and body spray. Next he brushed his teeth, thoroughly, before using a mouthwash. Time to shave.

Stan normally simply used an electric razor, for simplicity, but it always left him with a five o'clock shadow. So instead he opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a disposable safety razor, and some shaving cream. He shaved very carefully, as the last thing he wanted was to cut himself now.

Finally, he studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror, flicked at his hair with a comb – he kept it short nowadays, so it didn't need a lot – and decided he was fit for presentation.

He walked, nude, back into the bedroom and got dressed. He looked at his shoes and decided they'd pass muster with just a silicone wipe, so that's what they got. Finally he tried on the jacket, looked in the mirror – Caron's mirror.

'Caron'.

'Are you sure you're okay with this, my love?' he asked, and in return felt his momentary disquiet replaced by a feeling of peace, of support. He closed his eyes, nodded and looked in the mirror again. He turned sideways, sucked in his gut, grinned and let it out again. No point, Anne knew what he looked like. 'Overweight a touch. Oh well.'

A look at the watch that his wife had given him showed there was still nearly twenty minutes before he should leave. Turning up early, while quite romantic in some ways, was likely to upset the lady you were calling on, he'd learned that much from Caron: 'For goodness' sake! I'm nowhere near ready, I haven't dried my hair, and now you've embarrassed me!' she'd told him, although she'd given him a kiss, too. Nevertheless, Stan had been careful to be on time, not early and very definitely NOT late, when calling for her after that.

What to do for twenty minutes? Space Truckin' from Deep Purple's Made in Japan album, reissued in 1998. Just over 19 minutes of pure pleasure for Stan.

When the music finished, Stan grabbed his jacket and left the house to get into his car. He was still not-too-quietly attempting to sing along with Ian Gillan as he started his Mondeo.

Quickly thereafter he was at Anne's house. He parked on the road outside it and sat for a moment to compose himself.

He thought he saw a lace curtain twitch in Anne's front window, and smiled to himself. He got out of the car and walked up to her door.

He didn't have to ring the doorbell. Before he could reach out for it the door flew open and there stood Anne, in a very classy black oriental style number. The patterns on it were autumnal leaves picked out in a metallic thread. It looked gorgeous, and so did she.

Anne had a wide smile, and invited him in. "I'll just be a moment, I'll get my shoes and a wrap," she said.

Stan answered, "Fine", and walking into the house in a daze. Anne told him to sit for a moment, but Stan was drawn to the bookcase. Two shelves of technical literature were followed by one with Scientific American and Nature. Next was a shelf of romance novels, which made him grin a little, and finally there was a shelf of science fiction which, he realized, surprised him, but it shouldn't have.

He heard Anne walk back into the room and turned to her. She looked stunning. Her blonde hair was now piled on top of her head, presumably pinned there though he couldn't see it. She'd applied a little makeup, just enough to accentuate her fine features. Her lipstick was pale, but it did enough to bring out those gorgeous lips.

The dress' halter neck closed at the front to create a teardrop opening which displayed just the right amount of cleavage to be classy, and very, very sexy. The dress hugged her figure, displaying her slender torso. Stan was a bit surprised to see she was wearing a pair of flat shoes.

"The shoes?" he queried.

"Oh. Well, I thought... well, if I wear heels I'll be much taller than you. I wasn't sure you'd like that."

"Anne, you look wonderful. You could be seven foot six and you'd still look wonderful. If you want to wear heels, wear them."

A very feminine giggle came from Anne as she scurried back up the stairs. Only moments later she returned, barefoot, with a pair of silver high-heeled sandals in her hand, which she immediately put on. Drawing herself up to her impressive height – now about six feet – Anne said, imperiously, "I'm ready to be escorted now, my good man."

"As m'lady requires," intoned Stan in response, and they fell together, giggling.

Pulling himself together, Stan crooked an elbow and Anne put her arm through it. They walked towards the door, and Anne giggled again, saying, "I think the arm-in-arm thing should have waited until after we were through the door?"

Stan laughed, they disentangled and went through the door. Anne locked it up, putting her keys into a small black clutch purse, with beautiful blue-white flowers printed onto the silk. Anne had really put some thought into her outfit. There was something that she didn't think Stan had noticed yet...

The narrow path was too tight for them to walk abreast, so Stan gestured for his lady to go first. Anne walked through her garden gate, turned and shut it after Stan. He opened his car door for her, ensured she was seated and got in himself.

The drive to the town was short. Neither spoke much, just quietly asking after the other, complimenting on their look and so on. Stan said to Anne, "I thought I'd said not too flashy? Looking like that you make me look like the hired help!" Anne's reply was simply a grin and a raised eyebrow, but then she whistled (badly) the tune to "Just a Gigolo" which made Stan laugh aloud.

Arriving at Tennants in the rays of the setting sun, the two linked arms again and walked through the double doors.

The bar was off to the right as they walked in with many small tables dotted about. The place was built like a maze, but one with clear directions: "To the Bar" and "To the Exit" were visible everywhere. This enabled the cosy, intimate atmosphere that the owners were striving for along with a sense of security and familiarity.

They found a table and settled down. Stan wasn't much of a wine drinker, but Anne spotted a Meursault on the menu and asked for that. Wine and glasses were brought over. The lovely white burgundy was cool and refreshing. Both sipped appreciatively.


Neither spoke for a while. They were each seeking the right way to start the conversation, but neither could actually do it – both were responders, rather than instigators. Finally, Anne smiled and said,

"This is silly. We're like two tongue-tied school-kids. Let's just relax. How d'you like the wine?"

Smiling himself, Stan responded, "It's lovely. How'd you know about it? I have very little idea about wine, I'm afraid – I just check the price and discard anything with a screw top."

"Hmm? Well, I've been to the vineyard, and spoken to M. Straebler. I got a case of this while I was there, and I just fancied trying it again. It's not actually my favourite, I don't normally go for oaked chardonnay, but this is dry without being bitter. I do quite like it.

"As for wines in general, your approach is as good as any, really. But the best way to buy wine is to go to the producteur and sample direct from the source. It's good when you can strike up a rapport with the guy who's making the wine, he'll often give you some tips, and sometimes some free samples! Also, it's much, much cheaper.

"I've always enjoyed France. I'm reasonably fluent so I've never had a problem talking to the people there. How about you?"

Stan thought a moment, then replied,

"I've only been a couple of times, actually. Neither time could really be called 'visiting France' as they were quick trips on the ferry, 'booze cruises' – stocking up with cheap beer and wine. I spoke French at a very poor schoolboy level at age fifteen, so that was twenty-seven years ago. So I don't feel I can really comment. I'll have to let you be my guide."

"Guide? Guide to where?" asked Anne.

"Paris, of course. I've got piles of Annual Leave left – how about you?"

"Hmm! I can make a long weekend sometime, but not right now – I'm still up to my eyeballs in that damn chip. But once I can get free, you can take me to Paris, and I'll show you around." She said the last phrase in mock seductive French accent, causing Stan to roll his eyes.

Once the ice was broken, conversation flowed freely. Stan, as the driver, could only have one small glass, but Anne could feel her nose and upper lip going numb before the end.

At about ten thirty, with the wine gone, Anne grabbed Stan's arm and looked at his watch...

"Probably time to go, Stan. Nice watch, by the way."

"It was a gift from Caron."

There was a long pause. 

"Who was Caron?" asked Anne

"My wife. She died last November."

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Stan. I didn't mean..."

"No, that's all right, Anne. Oh, it still hurts, but I'm trying to get on with life, now."

There was another long moment's silence before he continued, "You're right, we ought to go, there's work in the morning."

Stan stood, to assist Anne out of her chair, but despite the wine, Anne succeeded in erecting herself without help, albeit with a slight falter. On the way to the cloakroom, Anne nearly tripped and Stan moved to hold her, but she kept her balance – just.

The moment's levity was enough to break the slightly sombre mood that had descended, and Anne giggled at Stan's hesitant, aborted assistance. Taking her arm with all the dignity he could muster, Stan guided her out, picking up his jacket and Anne's wrap on the way.

Once outside, Anne shivered. Stan couldn't help himself – Anne's nipples pointed themselves out to him, very graphically. Anne certainly noticed, and despite the temperature smiled inwardly.

"Ooh, it's chilly out here after being in there. Let's hurry up and get in the warm," she said, so Stan quickly walked her to his car. He opened her door and assisted her in, then got in himself.

"Turn the heater on, Stan," Anne pleaded, so Stan set the climate control to a higher level, but as he said, "It won't do much good until the engine's warm. Besides, it's not that cold. Hold on a moment..."

He struggled out of his jacket in the car and gave it to Anne.

"Sorry, I was a bit thoughtless I guess. I should have given you my jacket earlier. Damn!"

"That's okay, honey, you're slow but not hopeless," she told him sweetly.

Soon enough, they were at Anne's door. "Coffee?" she asked Stan, quietly.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? This is only the first date," Stan said, blushing.

"Stanley! The idea!" she said with deliberately false offence, before smiling and telling him, "I've had almost all of a very nice bottle of wine. If I wanted you indoors for sex, I'd have said so, silly. I meant coffee, no more."

"Ah. Well, in that case, unless you have decaf I'd better decline. I have enough trouble sleeping."

"I have, actually. Want some?"

'Do I want to spend more time with this gorgeous lady? Hell yes!' he thought, but he merely said, "Yes, please Anne," quietly.

Once again Anne preceded him along the path, this time towards the front door. Anne fumbled with the key a bit, but not much, and once she'd got inside she looked over her shoulder at Stan, who nearly melted at the sight. She seemed like a catwalk model, and that look! He followed her in and shut the door behind him.

Once indoors, Anne's navigation improved a bit, and she hustled into her small kitchen. Like the rest of her house it was neat and clean, and Anne swiftly filled the kettle and put it on to boil.

She grabbed a cafetière, a French Coffee Press, from a cupboard, and reached for the fine dark-roast decaf. She added the coffee to the empty glass cafetière and turned to pick up two mugs. Once the kettle boiled, she let it cool a little before pouring it into the Press and attached the filterscreen-plunger on top. "Give it a few minutes and it'll be ready, then," she said.

Anne was wondering where this might lead from here. She was half hoping Stan would make a move on her, and half terrified at the prospect. She'd meant what she'd said in the car, but now he was here with her, and Anne was feeling horny – the effect of the wine and long, long abstinence. On the other hand, she couldn't appear too eager.

Stan, too, was wondering where things might lead. He wanted to kiss Anne – hell, he wanted to make love to her – but equally he knew that he shouldn't take advantage of her tipsy state. So, he resolved to make an escape as soon as he could after having his coffee. In fact, he now regretted accepting the offer of coffee. Every time he managed to tear his eyes away from Anne's wonderful hazel eyes, or her sensuous mouth, or her marvellous figure... he'd find himself wanting her so much that he just had to look back at her again and again. He realized with a shock that he was actually getting hard, just thinking about her.

The two sat, a little awkwardly, until Anne reached over and pressed the plunger in the cafetière down. She looked enquiringly at Stan, who nodded, and she poured out two mugs, black. "Sugar?" she asked, and Stan demurred. "Both alike, then!" Anne commented, and handed him his mug.

Black coffee kept its' heat a long time, but Stan started to drink his quickly. He stopped, and told Anne, "This is really nice coffee. What is it?"

"It's 'Java Decaffeinated'. I got it from a website. They don't use chemicals to get rid of the caffeine, instead they do it with water. It's healthier and it tastes better, I think."

"I have to agree. This is great stuff, for a decaf. Thanks."

They sat, the tension building again, until Stan finished his coffee (scalding his mouth a little in the process). The unwanted pain helped a little down there, and he took advantage. He stood up, saying, "Thanks for the coffee, Anne, I really must be going – we've got work tomorrow."

Anne, realizing that Stan had decided not to try for anything, felt both relief and frustration at the same time – a very curious mix of emotions. She said nothing, merely standing and walking Stan to the door. She retrieved his coat from the hook in the small porch and turned to him, saying, "I had a really nice time tonight Stan. I'd like to do it again. Can we?"

"God, that's music to my ears!" said Stan with feeling, "of course I'd like to take you out again. Maybe... Friday?"

"It's a date," said a grinning Anne, "it'll be our second. I look forward to it. Very, very much!"

She leaned forward and gave Stan a peck on the cheek before he could move away.

Stan made half a move towards her, his hands just starting to reach for her. He stopped, his resolve just strong enough. Anne noted the move, of course, and felt her own desire surge. She ruthlessly suppressed it however. 'Not Yet!' she told the wanton hussy inside her...

"Now go! Go before I make a fool of myself. I'll see you tomorrow at work, Stan – we can have lunch together and make sure the rumour-mill is fully primed!"

She opened the door and let Stan out. Just the other side of the doorstep, he turned and said, "I don't think you need worry about that, Anne. They don't need such silly things as facts to create good gossip!" He softened his voice and said, "Good night, Anne. I've had a great evening too. See you tomorrow."

Anne leaned forward, almost imperceptibly. Stan, unconsciously, did so as well. Now they were almost together, and Stan tilted his head up very slightly. Without further thought they were kissing. Stan's hands moved of their own accord, and he had his left around her waist, pulling her to him, his right behind her head, tenderly yet firmly cradling it. They kissed with increasing passion, lips mashed together, mouths parting and tongues duelling.

Stan pulled back, breathless. Anne looked dazed by what had just happened as well, but then she seemed to come back to herself and whispered, "Tomorrow." For a moment Stan hesitated, but then he turned to go.

Anne watched him walk down the path to his car, get in and start it. She waved to him, and he waved back before putting it in gear and driving off.

Anne watched the car disappear, and then closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment. She couldn't believe it; she'd almost been ready to jump him after only one night together. Two if you counted the meal at Apricot's, three if you counted the dancing... no. They'd done the right thing. Definitely. However, she was now so turned on she needed to take care of things, now! So she ran up the stairs to her room, got undressed and ready for bed, then reached into her bedside drawer.

Her vibrator, a 6" long pink cylinder that had been her closest companion for years, sprang into life as she teased her nipples with it. She arched her back, rubbing the toy over her right breast, while she pinched her left nipple with her free hand. She saw a kind, gentle face with laughter lines hovering over her as she passed the buzzing phallus over to her left breast, while her left hand snaked down, sliding over her abdomen, feeling the muscles quake as she did. 

She was already very, very wet, as she discovered when sliding a finger along her labia. She lifted her hand to her mouth, tasting herself and wetting the tip of her middle finger thoroughly, before sending it back to her lower lips, gradually, softly, slowly tracing.




Equal Shares Ch. 12



Anne imagined it was Stan's finger, gently teasing her, as she moved the vibrator to her nipples, teasing first one then the other, while her middle finger on her left hand plunged into her depths, getting thoroughly wet. She added her index finger while sliding the vibrator down to her navel. She felt her excitement building, imagining Stan touching her, caressing her, sending her higher and higher...

She lifted her left hand a little, sliding it up between her engorged labia until she reached her sweet spot. She teased her clitoris for a while with her fingers, then moved the vibrator down to a spot just above it so it was buzzing furiously, exciting her clit through its hood.

Her left hand now pulling, twisting at her nipples, back arching, breath gasping, she kept at this for a minute or two before she cried out involuntarily as her release came upon her. She kept her hand and the vibrator going as she powered through her orgasm, then pulled the toy away and curled up, knees near her chin, like a baby, damply moaning, hair an unholy mess where it wasn't plastered to her head. .

She stayed there for a couple of minutes before lunging after the still buzzing tube and turning it off. She put it back into the drawer, slid the drawer shut, lay back and sighed, utterly spent. She closed her eyes, rolled onto her side and went to sleep with the scent of her arousal still flaring her nostrils.

Stan, though sober, might as well have drunk a whole bottle of the wine himself. He was totally intoxicated by Anne. He drove home in a daze, finding himself in his house with no idea how he'd got there, his jacket slung over a chair and walking into the bathroom. He was as hard as he'd ever been, just like a teenager. He grinned as he realized he was about to do something he hadn't done in a long, long while.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked it, to provide lubrication, then gripped his jutting erection and began to stroke. He closed his eyes and saw images of Anne, her eyes, her mouth, her long beautiful legs. He imagined the hidden charms so far mysterious to him. He started stroking faster. In his mind, he could see those hands crooking a finger at him, feel them touching him, sense those legs entwined around him. He saw Anne's face, those wonderful hazel eyes smoky with lust, that elfin face, those marvellously kissable lips... As he neared his climax he imagined her, lying on the bed, thrusting back up at him while he felt himself plunging into her heated depths, and... 'Where were the tissues?'

He felt his orgasm beginning and snatched some toilet paper from the roll. He came, strongly, pulsing into the wadded up tissue. Gasping, mouth dry and gummed, he took a moment to calm down, then cleaned up. Disposing of the tissue, he staggered his way through an abbreviated night-time routine and went downstairs for some water. He gulped some down and then drank the remainder at a more leisurely pace, before climbing back up the stairs. He got into bed, and lay there a moment, thinking.

He hadn't thought of Caron since looking in the mirror before leaving. Did he feel guilty? A bit, he decided, 'Sorry, love. I know you don't mind. You told me to move on, so I will, but I promise not to forget you, my darling.' The eyes on him were amused but forgiving and so, content, he went to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 13



On Thursday morning, Elizabeth took one look at Stan as he walked into the office and knew that her plan for him had worked, albeit not in the way she'd expected. He had a spring in his step, his face was open and content and he was whistling some tune or other.

She couldn't help smiling at Stan when he sat down, the same beatific look still on his face.

"You had a good night and all went well, I see," she told him.

"I had a great time, thanks, Elizabeth!" he replied. He told her about the date. Under questioning, he provided details about her dress, how she had arranged her hair... before he knew it Elizabeth had a complete description of the date, right up to them leaving Tennants.

"So, anything happen after?" she asked, sweetly. On seeing Stan's slight frown, she added quickly, "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just living vicariously, you know."

"That's okay, Elizabeth. We had a cup of coffee, then I left. Nothing more." 'This time! But it was close,' he added silently.

"Any more plans?"

A goofy smile on his face, he answered, "We're going out again tomorrow. Dunno where, yet. What about you?"

With a glint in her eye Elizabeth answered, "James came around after work yesterday to mow the lawn. I asked him in for a glass of wine afterwards." James was a guy who'd retired early, was five years younger than Elizabeth and was definitely smitten, Stan knew. They'd been 'doing a tap-dance' around having some sort of relationship for ages.

"Are you going to let him get closer than just 'interested', or are you going to keep him dangling?" Stan asked her. Elizabeth actually blushed. Stan was amazed as he'd never seen the normally very self-assured lady become embarrassed. She said, quietly, "I asked him to stay over."

"Oh... Oh!" Stan was surprised, but he recovered and continued, "Er, okay – things went well, I assume?" with a smirk.

"Enough! Yes. I'm seeing him again tomorrow, too. He's taking me out to dinner."

"Good. I always like my Elizabeth to have fun."

"Your Elizabeth?" she growled.

"Yes, and don't forget it!" he laughed.

- - - - - - - - - -

At lunchtime, Stan went to find Anne. Unfortunately, Anne also went to find Stan! There were ten minutes of finger pointing and "I just saw him" and "I just saw her" before they finally caught sight of one another.

Stan was wearing his usual plain shirt and trousers, this time grey and black, respectively. Anne had a blouse and wrap-around skirt, one light-, the other darker-brown. But her hair was up and the pendant that Stan had bought was on prominent display.

Stan saw Anne's face light up with a brilliant smile when she saw him. He realized his own face was similarly smiling. Together they walked into the canteen. Anne picked up a salad. Stan opted for the meat-pie and potatoes that was on offer. 

Normally, Stan ate with a group from the Test department while Anne ate with some of her own colleagues. Today they grabbed a table for themselves. They sat together, reaching for their cutlery simultaneously, starting in on their meals with occasional glances up from concentrating on the food before them.

After a couple of minutes, Stan noticed something. Neither of them had said a word. He searched for something. The weather? No! Football? No! Music... Yes! Try music.

"I had a look at your bookshelves last night, Anne, but I never noticed your music collection. What sort of things do you like?" he asked.

Anne contemplated while chewing on a new potato. Finally, she said, "Bits and pieces. I'm a child of the eighties, so I love Madonna. One of my favourite songs for a long time was the one from 'Top Gun'. You know, Take my Breath Away. I love Queen, Freddie was great. More recently, I've come to like some of Elton John's stuff.

"I don't much like what they now call dance music, but I have to tell you even that's got something at the right time and place. Of course there's a lot of classical ballet music that I came to love while at school. I suppose that, in the end, I don't categorise music, I just like it or don't like it."

Stan, munching away on his meat pie, thought for a bit. Then he declared,

"Take my Breath Away was by Berlin. The rest of the album it's on, Count Three and Pray, is actually quite different. Madonna can be very, very good, or pretty awful. You're right about Queen, of course. Elton John? Well, if you put out as much as he's done, some will be poor, some will be good.

"That's a killer test you've just passed," he finished with a grin. "Our music tastes have enough in common for us to be together!" Anne threw a piece of cucumber at him.

"Well then, I'm so glad to have passed your test," she said caustically. "What sort of films do you like?"

"Romances, comedies, action films, war films – pretty much anything except straight horror. Even then I can sometimes get it – Texas Chainsaw Massacre was actually quite funny, although it certainly made one jump at times. Straw Dogs was wonderful. Both of those are so old, though. Most of the modern horror stuff is just slash, with little or no plot, it seems to me," Stan said, immediately.

"Good," said Anne. "I know we were going to wait until tomorrow, but I want to be with you tonight. So lets go to a movie!"

"What's on?" Stan asked, caught by surprise.

"I don't know," replied Anne. "We can check on the net. Hurry up! We can use my PC: choose a film and book the tickets at the same time."

So, the two trooped off back to the lab. Once there, they hunted for the website of the cinema in the town, finally choosing Prime with Uma Thurman. "A romance, I said I liked them," was Stan's comment. Anne was pleased as well.

That evening Anne called round to pick up Stan in her blue sports car. Stan wore a simple but clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with a light woollen sweater in case it was colder when they came out of the cinema later. Anne honked the horn outside his house, and Stan hurried out the door to get to her car before his neighbours complained.

As he climbed into the car Stan looked over at the blonde in the driving seat. Anne was wearing a black wraparound skirt and red v-necked top, cut conservatively yet still emphasising her figure.

Grinning like a thief, Anne gunned the engine and took off, heading for the town. Scant minutes later they were at the cinema. Anne threw the MX-5 into a parking spot with panache and skill.

"You enjoyed doing that a lot, didn't you?" asked Stan through a rather tight grin. It wouldn't be very macho to reveal the anxiety he'd felt during that ride!

"Yup!" Anne replied. "I don't throw my car around very often, but it's fun sometimes."

Stan crooked his arm and Anne slid hers through it. Together they walked into the cinema, bought tickets, drinks and popcorn, then found the screen showing their film.

Stan wasn't actually too interested in the movie, to be really honest about it. He liked Uma Thurman as a fine actress, and the film was more than okay, but what interested him was the woman sitting next to him, her hand in his. It was a simple intimacy, yet for Stan it was an incredible feeling. He felt every nerve in his left hand afire at her touch. Stan tried to pay attention to the movie, he really did! But if he'd been asked for a critical review afterwards, he'd have been hard-pressed for words.

Anne, for her part, thought that the film was fun in a superficial way, but that the heat of Stan's hand in hers, the occasional glance he'd make at her, the way his body was twisted slightly towards her all felt far more compelling.

The film finished, the credits started to come up. Anne habitually stayed to watch the credits; a lesson learned when one film she'd seen had a 'blooper reel' at the end. So when Stan stood, he found that his date didn't. Momentarily at a loss, Stan sat once again. Anne turned to him and asked, "Did you want to leave?"

"No, we're okay, we can stay here as long as you want," he replied.

They went back and forth for a couple of rounds, then Stan, wisely, shut up.

On the way home Stan wanted to think about whether or not to try for a kiss, but Anne once again sent the car flying through bends and into gaps only she appeared to think were big enough. Stan couldn't think as she threaded her way through the traffic, so they arrived at his house with him quite distracted.

Anne, on the other hand, knew what she was doing. With the car stopped, she unclipped her seat belt and leaned over. As she did so, Stan became aware for the first time that Anne had taken advantage of her smaller cup size – she'd gone without a bra and her nipples were quite visible through her shirt.

She gave Stan a kiss, then she leaned back into the seat and said, softly, "See you then Stan. Tomorrow!" There was a wealth of promise in that one word.

Stan looked at Anne in the same way a rabbit looks at an oncoming truck. "Go on, Stan. Shoo!" she told him, softly, and Stan shook himself and opened the car door. After getting out he leaned back into the car and said, "Till tomorrow, then," and closed the door. Anne waved, gunned the engine and drove off, leaving Stan waving back.

- - - - - - - - - -

On Friday, at lunchtime, Stan and Anne once again ate together. Neither made much in the way of small talk, they were, instead, deep inside their heads.

Stan emerged from his reverie, thought of something, and asked...

"Anne?"

"Yes, Stan?"

"Where are we going tonight? We haven't discussed it."

They looked at each other, and Anne giggled.

"Oh, let's go down to the Mitre and get sloshed. It's a Friday, we can get a cab there, have a little fun. There's bound to be other people we know there as well. How about it?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening, Stan heard the honk of a cab outside his door and hurried outside. He eagerly found Anne's smiling face looking up at him through the open door. Sliding in, he closed the cab door, said, "Thanks!" to the driver, settled into his seat and buckled up his seat belt. Finally, he was able to look across the seat at Anne.

Tonight she was in a sheer white spaghetti-strap dress. Stan was glad it wasn't raining – it looked like it would go pretty transparent in a hurry. Anne's long blonde hair was down tonight, some of it escaping to partially cover her left eye.

Anne was studying Stan, as well. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and trousers, but at least it wasn't a geeky T, or one with a band logo on it. Stan's short thinning hair, with just a few grey ones shining up in the last rays of the sun, had been trimmed, she noted. She found herself wondering who'd done it. Was she actually envious of whoever had had their hands on him?

Arriving at the Mitre, Stan paid the cab driver and the two linked arms. Reaching the door, Stan held it open for Anne to precede him.

They walked in to the busy bar finding, as they expected, that there were no tables free. Stan made his way to the bar with Anne following behind, her hand in his. While they were waiting for their drinks, Stan heard a voice calling his name. He turned, and saw Elaine at a table, waving him over. He nudged Anne, indicating the pretty young blonde with his eyes, and mouthed, "Go!"

By the time Stan had been served and paid for the drinks, Anne was sitting with Elaine. The two were in earnest conversation. As Stan approached, the noise level, that was so intense at the bar, reduced enough so he could hear what they were saying.

"She probably just forgot," said Anne to Elaine. "Thanks, Stan!" as he put the drinks on the table.

"Who forgot what?" said Stan.

"Denise, you dummy!" said Elaine. "She was supposed to be ringing in today to tell us how she got on! With all the extra security stuff and the cancelled flights, I was worried about her."

"Oh, yes, she's back from holiday today, isn't she. She was going to ring me, too, come to think of it." 'Oh well, she's got my cell phone number now,' Stan mused. After the previous phone-tag, they'd exchanged numbers.

Of course, Stan had to repeat all of that, louder. It was better here at the table, but still quite noisy.

"So you haven't heard anything either? Do you think we should call her?" asked Elaine.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Stan, getting the phone out of his pocket. He called up her number and dialled.

"Hello? Jim?" came Denise's voice.

"No, sorry. It's me, Stan. We wondered if you were okay, got home all right, that sort of thing. You know, why you hadn't called?"

Stan heard a sigh through the speaker.

"Oh, sorry. No... No undue problems coming in. The long lines and delays were all going out. Er, Stan, I'm waiting for a phone call. Um, look, could you..." Denise asked.

"Of course! Look, I just wanted to tell you that we're down at the Mitre if you want to join us. I'll get off the line. See you soon! Monday at the latest, yes?" 

"Thanks Stan. I'll just probably stay here... my dreamboat might call the landline instead. See ya!" Denise broke the connection. Stan folded up his phone and replaced it in his pocket, while saying, 

"It looks like Denise has picked up a fella!" he told the two women. "She's going to wait there to see if he calls, it sounds like she's excited at the prospect!"

Elaine grinned, but Anne wasn't clued in. "What's that about? Did Denise pick up a guy on holiday?"

"Sounds like it!" Elaine told her, "She's quick, that girl!"

"Talking of girls, where's Susan?" Stan asked Elaine.

"She'll be here in a minute, she pulled a late shift tonight and only finished at eight o'clock." Elaine told him.

Sure enough, a few minutes later Susan arrived, looking tired but happy to see Elaine, who immediately got up so her partner could sit, and she went to the bar to get drinks.

"Rough day?" asked Stan of Susan.

"The pits. Still, the day's over, the night's young, and my girlfriend smiles at me, so all's not lost!"

Elaine returned with the drinks and sat on Susan's lap, giving her the occasional kiss on the cheek. Susan's smile just kept on going and going. Stan saw out of the corner of his eye Anne watch the pair. She seemed to be squirming in her seat, just a little. Stan, concerned, leaned over and said as softly as he could to be heard,

"Do they bother you doing that? I just think it's lovely to see."

Anne immediately reversed their position so that she could talk directly into his ear. She said, equally softly,

"No, no. It's not that, it's just that I... never mind. No, it doesn't bother me, but I'll tell you later."

On Fridays the bar was open until late; typically the owner would keep things going until the wee hours of the morning Fridays and Saturdays. Both Stan and Anne had stuff to do at home though, and neither wanted to drink too much, so they left around midnight.

On their way to the cab rank, Anne snuggled into Stan's shoulder to keep warm. Without any need for thought he put his arm around her. Anne idly stroked her fingers over the bare skin of the back of his hand. 

"This feels nice," he told her, and she merely answered, "Mmmm, yes."

"So what was it about Elaine and Susan that was bothering you? Please don't tell me you're homophobic," Stan asked, with concern. He wanted to be close to Anne, but he liked the two women. "I really think they're a good couple."

"Oh, no Stan. That didn't bother me at all. I just... I just wanted to do that with you. To climb onto your lap, to..."

Stan stopped, turning to face Anne. He asked her delicately, "To do what, Anne?"

Anne leaned down towards him, face open, her hands on his hips.

"Anne? To what?" repeated Stan, still unsure of her meaning.

"Oh, God. You're clueless, you know. This..."

Anne leaned down a little more, lifted her right hand to the back of Stan's head, and kissed him on the lips.

Stan's world shrunk to the sensation of her lips on his, her tongue licking and then duelling with his as the kiss deepened. He felt her hand pulling his face onto her, controlling the kiss. He responded as best he could, but it was Anne who was in charge, Anne who was driving, and now she was in her sports car mode and the kiss was urgent, needy.

She broke off, taking a breath, watching him closely.

"Not too fast, is it Stan? I didn't think I'd be able to trust another guy, especially another older guy after Daniel, but I'd like to try with you. I want to be your girlfriend, not just someone you're dating, just tell me if I'm going too fast for you," she got out in a rush.

Stan was in shock. In truth it was faster than he'd expected, but he'd made his peace with Caron earlier – it was Anne's unexpected heat that had got to him. A week ago they'd been mere work acquaintances. He'd thought of Anne as an unattainable objective, now he had his arms around her and she'd given him a kiss that fully compared with anything he'd had with Caron. He didn't really know what to think, so he tried levity, saying only,

"I have my arms around a beautiful woman who's kissing me to within an inch of my life. What's to complain about?"

She punched him in the chest, not too lightly. "Going to chalk me up as a conquest are you, Stan?" she challenged.

Stan quickly went serious.

"No, Anne, never! Look, this isn't really fair. You're only the second woman to ever kiss me like that. I don't honestly know what to think. But, too fast? No, no, no! With Caron we got that far on our first date."

"You're a fast mover, huh? I wouldn't have known. You seemed utterly clueless just now," she told him, eyebrows raised at the last phrase.

"Actually, when I think about it, back then all I did was put my arm around her. I was frightened silly and far too nervous and naïve to do any more than that. Caron took control and kissed me. Rather like you did just now!" he told the grinning Anne.

"I can believe that. You'll have to change your email signature file to 'Clueless in the U.K.', I think!"

"Humph! Let's get a cab," was his only reply, and the two walked off towards the rank with their arms now around each other.

They were lucky. A cab was parked, waiting. Stan gave the driver Anne's address, and they were soon on their way.

Anne and Stan looked at one another. She leaned over, Stan did the same, and they kissed. The electric touch of her lips ran through Stan. He drew back slightly, turning his eyes to the driver to see if he'd watched – then did it again.

Just before they reached Anne's house, she leaned over in the backseat of he cab towards Stan, putting a finger to her lips and cupping an ear, wanting to say something that the driver wouldn't hear. Stan leaned in, and Anne whispered into his ear,

"Do you want to come in?"

"For coffee? I guess... I can always get a different cab home from here," Stan whispered back.

She gave him a sultry look, then leaned in again and whispered, "Who said anything about coffee?"

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 14



Stan twisted on the sofa.

Anne had invited him in, but not for coffee. There was only one plausible explanation... was he ready?

His erection felt like a log in his underwear... That part of him felt ready, at least.

Anne had opened her door and gestured him inside. She'd told him, "Sit there while I fix us a drink. What would you like?"

Stan asked for a scotch, but asked for a glass of water too. Anne was now in the kitchen, fixing things.

"Glenmorangie?" she called, and Stan replied, "That'll be fine, Anne!" It was a perfectly serviceable single malt, after all.

She came back into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a shot glass containing amber fluid in the other. "Here you are, Stan. I'll just get my wine and we can... 'get comfortable'." Her eyes danced, and there was a challenge in the lift of her eyebrow as she said the last.

Stan was now feeling distinctly uncomfortable however. He took advantage of Anne's departure to reach into the waistband of his trousers and straighten his erection so it lay against his belly. Now, however, he had to pull his trouser up slightly to hide it, and the buckle of his belt dug into the head so he had to sit artificially upright on the sofa. Stan knew he shouldn't be, but he was embarrassed.

Anne came back with a large glass of white wine. One strap of her white dress had fallen off her shoulder. 'Deliberately?' wondered Stan, while appreciating the way the side of the dress fell a little, exposing more of Anne's left breast. Anne had slipped off her shoes, he noticed, and he pushed his off with his own feet. He sipped at his water, then took a drink from his whisky, while Anne sat close to him on the sofa, bringing her feet up underneath her and sitting sideways, facing him.

They sat and regarded each other for a couple of minutes. Finally Stan said, "This is a little awkward."

Anne commented "Yes, it is." Again she leaned forward and kissed Stan. Her feet slid out from under her as she pushed Stan down so that he was almost supine on the black leather sofa under her. Her kiss was firm and insistent as his mouth opened in response to her tongue.

Finally she pulled back slightly and murmured, "That's better, isn't it?"

Stan answered softly but with great feeling, "Yes!" before leaning up and nibbling on her lower lip. Anne had both hands on the sofa, on either side of Stan's head on the armrest, and she once again took control of the kiss, deepening it, while she began grinding her pelvis into Stan's. Stan's hands moved of their own accord, reaching for Anne's breasts, caressing them through the thin fabric of her dress, feeling the lacy material beneath. Stan's erection was now very uncomfortable, but he just couldn't bring himself to break the kiss. He was certain Anne could feel it – she must be able to! Finally Anne again lifted her head, and smiled at Stan. 

"If that's not a rocket in your pocket, I can think of a way to use it!"

Stan couldn't help it. He lost it completely, breaking into laughter. Smiling widely herself, Anne stood up and held out her hand to Stan.

"Come on, Stan. We don't have to make out on the couch like teenagers stealing moments before Mum comes back. Come upstairs."

She smoothly stood, holding out her long, slender arm to him. Stan took it and pushed himself up with his other arm. She led him up the stairs, looking back twice to smile at him, desire plain on her face.

For his part, Stan was moving on autopilot. His mind was trying to keep up with the rapid developments. He couldn't bear the thought of saying, "Anne, wait..." but he did feel things were moving fast. 

Then Stan had another thought. It had been half a lifetime since he'd needed a condom, so he didn't have any. They were clearly going to make love tonight, but if she had no protection, what then?

'Was she even on the Pill?' Stan wondered. 'What if she wasn't?' Well, the answer was obvious, if hard – 'We can't make love.' He felt a little easier, having made that decision. On the other hand, he knew he'd have to get some condoms, and soon – it wasn't fair on Anne to rely on her for protection without arranging for some himself.

By now they were at the top of the stairs, and Anne turned left at the landing to enter her room. Pulling himself back to real-time, Stan quickly took in the room. There wasn't a lot of space for manoeuvre.

Anne used what room there was. She turned, took Stan by the shoulders and pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. Then she stood back in the doorway. Licking her lips, she slid first one, then the other strap off her shoulder and shimmied. The top half of the dress fell to her waist, revealing her lacy white strapless bra. She impatiently shoved her dress the rest of the way and it pooled at her feet.

Anne wasn't wearing panties.

Anne grinned at Stan, but he didn't notice. His eyes were firmly glued on the junction of her thighs, where narrow strip of dark curls were on show. With her legs together like that, he couldn't see more.

Stan's next distraction was caused by Anne reaching behind herself to unclip her bra. Having done so she allowed it to fall on top of her dress, before placing her hands behind her head. With her feet very slightly apart, Anne placed her weight on her left and crossed her right in front, twisting her torso slightly and inclining her head the opposite way, looking at Stan from under her lashes.

"Do you like what you doth see?" she asked Stan.

"God, yes, I love it!" Stan blurted.

Once again Anne smiled, this time widely, breaking her stance and putting her hands on her hips. "You, buster, are overdressed!" she told him and moved purposefully towards him.

Controlling himself, Stan began disrobing. While he was struggling with his shirt buttons he felt Anne's hands tugging on his belt. Before he could get the shirt completely off, she'd undone the belt and pulled it from the loops, letting go of the belt once it was free. He was still removing the last sleeve when she attacked the button and clip at the waist before unzipping his fly.

She pulled at Stan, getting him to stand. Stan held her for a moment, indicating for her to wait. He removed his socks and then stood, dropping his trousers. Anne knelt in front of him. Her hands went to his briefs and pulled the waistband out before lowering them to clear his penis.

Once he'd stepped out of them, Anne rocked back a moment. For over forty, with essentially a sedentary job and habits, Stan wasn't in bad shape. A paunch, yes, but not much of one. Thinning hair, but a nice face. Character lines of course, but they showed a man who smiled a lot.

Then she looked lower. Stan's penis jutted proudly, not too big either in length or girth, but eminently serviceable. She moved closer to Stan.

Stan had been doing his own assessment of Anne. So she wasn't a natural blonde? So what! The younger woman was beautiful, and had kept her body in fine shape. 'Better than I've kept mine,' mused Stan. Then he lost the ability to think.

Anne leaned forward again, took his dick in her right hand and licked the head, slowly, luxuriously, before opening her mouth and sliding down. Once she reached her limit she gripped it with her hand, setting the depth, and began pulling up, sliding her lips up around his cock, sucking and swirling her tongue. Stan gasped. When her tongue stroked the underside of his cock he trembled a little from the intense sensation . Anne then started back down onto his penis again, still using lips and tongue to devastating effect. As Anne's tongue moved in concert with her lips, as she moved her head slowly, exquisitely slowly, down and then up again, she playfully nibbled at him a couple of times, before beginning to plunge up and down in earnest, always sucking on the upstroke, her cheeks caving.

Stan opened his eyes and looked down, seeing a blonde head bobbing up and down. Anne looked up at him, slowing for a moment, sucking at the head and pulling with her hand. Stan was living in the moment, his perceptions limited to his cock and Anne's mouth and hand.

Anne joined her left hand to her right and began jacking him, while churning her tongue around the head. She paused for a moment, lifted her head up and off and looked up at Stan again. "You like?" she asked, eyes deep pools of lust.

"God, yes!" Stan rasped-out before she began again, sliding slowly, languorously down his penis until her gag reflex threatened, then lifting up slightly and sucking, sucking, twirling, teasing.

The effect on Stan was incredible. Too soon, he knew he was going to come, and he knew he should tell her first.

"Cu-Cumming!" he managed, scant moments before the first pulse burst free. Anne appreciated the gesture, but she wanted his come. She needed to show this wonderful man that he'd helped her heal and to thank him in the best way possible. 

All through Stan's climax Anne sucked and swallowed. Finally spent, Stan sagged backwards onto the bed. Anne climbed up beside him. She studied the man who'd taken her heart, that she thought had been irretrievably broken so many years before, and melted it back together. His face was flushed, he was breathing shallowly and fast. He had a wonderful smile on his face. 'And why not? He's just had a blowjob!'

Stan felt Anne's arm snake over as she cuddled into him. He was finally able to talk, so he looked across at the stunning lady who'd just been so wonderful to him.

"You've just taken my virginity," he told her. "That was my first blowjob."

Anne looked, but couldn't see any sign that he was joking.

"Really, Stan? Never before?" she asked him, tenderly.

"Nope. Never. It was a simply amazing experience. God it was erotic looking down and seeing you doing that, feeling you doing that. Amazing!

"Now, it's my turn to do something for you, something I used to enjoy a lot. Move over a little..." he said, nudging her with hip and fingertips. Anne moved to accommodate him, and Stan moved across so Anne was on his left side. He pulled himself next to Anne, lifting a little so he could use his left hand on her as well. Weight on his left elbow, Stan caressed the right side of her face and her earlobe with that hand while his right started slowly stroking her left breast. Anne cooed appreciatively.

Stan studied his lover while he stroked her with his fingers. She lay there, lips parted slightly, a flush spreading across her chest. Her nipples were small and pink but erect and rock hard. A once familiar yet different perfume was becoming noticeable. Stan decided he was doing what she wanted, for now, and kept up the massage of her tits, sometimes drawing a hand up into a claw, pulling lightly on her coral nipple, moving from one mound to the other. Age and gravity flattened them slightly, but not much.

Stan decided to move up a step, and leaned over to lick around an aureole. Judging by the intake of breath he heard, Anne liked that! So, still lightly caressing her face with his left hand when he could, and now palming the other breast with his right, he effectively performed a blowjob on Anne's right breast. He sucked nipple and aureole into his mouth, then swirled his tongue around it. He locked his lips around the base of Anne's proud flesh and sucked, hard.

Anne loved it. She arched her back, trying to force more of her flesh into his mouth. She felt his teeth nip at her and stiffened. Stan murmured, "Sorry," around her nipple, but Anne told him shakily "'S okay. Just not too hard. Oh, God, just more, more..." 

Stan was happy to oblige. He didn't think he'd get her to climax like this, but she was obviously getting worked up. He began teasing the nipple on her free breast, pulling, pinching lightly, and twisting just a little. Anne again arched her back, soft moans coming out of her mouth.

Stan moved, lifting over Anne so that he could get at her other tit with his mouth. Obviously, this one needed its' own fair share of the stimulation. It was difficult to keep Anne's left boob stimulated while in this position, so he shifted over her, to mirror the former arrangement, now lying on his right side facing Anne. He grinned at Anne, who looked back at him through hooded hazel eyes full of sheer, raw lust.

Stan went back to work, and Anne was in heaven. He hadn't made a move to touch her below the waist yet, but she could feel that she was ready, ready, ready. His hand on her face, lightly stroking her, was tender, loving. The one on her right tit was rubbing, kneading, teasing her. But the kicker was his mouth and tongue, twirling, caressing, sucking on her nipple.

Stan felt her arch her back again, then heard a squeal, and tried unsuccessfully to look up at her face without breaking the pattern he was running with his hands and mouth. It took a lot of concentration, but it seemed it was worth it. He heard it again, then low moans, rising in pitch and tempo, finally a squeal that was cut off when Anne moved her face away and grabbed some blanket to stuff in her mouth. Finally she relaxed again.

Stan stopped his oral ministrations and looked up, now only softly caressing her breast. "Did you just...?" he asked, surprised at what he thought had happened.

"Um hmmm. Oh yeah. Not a biggie, but oh, yeahhh." She smiled across at him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, elf-maiden of my heart," he answered, and she smiled wider before punching him lightly on the arm. "Dunce!" she named him, then rolled over on top and kissed him, deeply. Stan felt his penis, which he'd thought would be completely spent after the blowjob, stirring back into life again, and marvelled.

"God, you're making me hard again!" he told the dream pressed above him.

"Mmmm. I know. That's kind of the idea," she purred softly into his ear, before licking it sensuously, sending shivers down his spine, straight to his balls.

Anne ground her pelvis into Stan for a while then shifted off him and lay by his side. She reached down and stroked his penis, now almost fully erect. She locked onto his eyes, into his eyes, and he held the look with her as she stroked him. It didn't take very long before she judged he was as erect as he could be. Stan looked at her through lust filled eyes, knowing what she wanted. He had to ask now, else he wouldn't be able to stop.

"Anne, what about precautions?"

"I'm on the Pill my lovely careful Dunce," she told him, continuing, "Also I haven't been sexually active for many years, except with a toy or two. You were happily married to Caron, you're not the type to cheat and I don't believe you've been 'with' anyone since then. So we're clean, healthy and attracted to each other. You're a wonderful man for being considerate but I want this," grabbing him, sending another pulse of sensation through him, "inside me!" 

Anne climbed over him. She straddled his hips, reaching down and took firm hold before sinking down a little, rubbing him over her labia, now engorged and pink, spreading the wetness gathered there over the head of his penis. She lowered herself, sinking slowly, slowly down over him.

Stan felt the wet heat surround his dick, something he hadn't felt for nearly a year. Her pussy gripped him as she sank down until their bodies met. Anne leaned back a little, arching her back, and began making small rolling movements, grinding her clitoris against him. Once again their eyes locked, and she gazed deeply into his soul as she worked herself up. Stan reached for her, to play with her breasts, but the angle was wrong so instead he stroked her flanks and her belly, licking his forefinger and rubbing her navel, then reaching down to her clit and rubbing just above it, increasing the stimulation.

After a while Anne's movements became more urgent, but still they kept their eyes locked together. The world and all else around them disappeared. There was just the two of them, souls joined in the same way as their bodies, separate from all other existence. Anne speeded up, increasing the pressure, and now Stan could see the signs of her imminent climax, with her face, neck and breasts pink from arousal, her hair now plastered over her face, obscuring one eye. But still the other remained locked into his.

Finally the dam broke and Anne's eyes fluttered closed as she shuddered. Stan felt her muscles contracting, both with his hands and with more intensity on his dick. Anne squealed again, louder, then again and finally yipped "Aaeeeeeii!" as she came.

She almost collapsed, but managed to lower herself towards him. She kissed again, lovingly, tenderly, then asked him, "You didn't come?"

"No, sweetheart. I'm no teenager. But I'm so very glad. Seeing that was a privilege. Feeling it was an honour."

"Good line!" she told him. He was still halfway inside her, feeling really good in her sensitive pussy. "Stan, I want to try to have you come inside me. Let's roll over."

So they did, although Stan felt himself detach as they did. Anne quickly reached down and pulled him into her, transferring her hand to his buttocks once he was inside.

"Anne, I... I don't know what to say." Stan told her quietly.

"Shh. This is for you. Less talking, more fucking!"

A third time they connected through their eyes, as deeply as Stan was now inside Anne physically. Supporting himself on his arms, he withdrew, then thrust, slowly building up the pace and power. Anne lifted towards him slightly, and Stan felt himself go even deeper on his next strokes. He realized he was going to come, again, and soon, and marvelled.

Anne drew him on, she needed to help him reach his climax, this wonderful knight who had released her from self-imposed prison. She felt him speed up, obviously now reaching, needing his climax, and she purred, pulling him in, nails now clawing at his back, thrusting herself up towards him. She was sensitive, she'd feel this in the morning, but now... "Oh! Oh! Now, Stan. Now, yes, yes, NOW!"

Stan saw, felt and heard Anne come again. It pushed him over the edge and he buried himself inside her, grunting, groaning while he pulsed inside her. It wasn't the largest, strongest of orgasms, he'd already come once – but it felt amazing.

For a moment or two, the lovers stayed like that, him with straight arms and his dick buried inside, she with her hands now flat on the bed beside her, still quivering in the aftershocks. Finally Stan recovered his senses enough to roll to one side, laying flat on his back, staring unseeing at the ceiling. They lay like that for quite a while.

Stan's forebrain finally came back to life.

"Thanks," Stan finally managed to say. "You okay?"

"It may take me a while to come down, but oh, God, yes Stan, I'm okay. Thank you. I didn't expect that last one."

Anne rolled over towards him. She reached out, rubbing his chest hair lightly with her fingertips, teasing his nipples with the tips of her fingernails, making him twitch slightly. "You really never had a blowjob before?" she asked again, softly.

"No, never. Caron was more sexually experienced than I was when we met – I'd had one other, where I lasted about thirty seconds. Caron had tried a lot of stuff, so she had set boundaries, and I respected them – hell, I was just happy to be with her in the first place.

"But if she ever touched my dick with her lips it was a soft, fleeting thing. Wonderful, yes, but she never did it with intent. No anal, though she loved being touched there. We tried a little light bondage, but it did nothing for her, so we soon stopped. Caron loved me, and I loved her, but sex was never the driving force of our love."

Stan rolled and faced Anne. "I can't believe you've got me talking about that already. I can't believe you've got that out of me at all. I've never shared that with anyone, not even Elizabeth," he told her.




Equal Shares Ch. 14



"Well, I doubt you've made love to Elizabeth," Anne replied through a smile. "Thank you for trusting me so much." Anne paused, then she took on a serious expression.

"What do you know of my past?" she asked him.

"Not a lot. You've alluded to a bad time before. You were married?"

"Yes, I've been divorced from the bastard for ten years."

Stan was taken aback by the sudden change in Anne. He reached for her, and was dismayed when she flinched. He almost withdrew his hand, but Anne relaxed a little and he gently caressed her flank, soothing her.

Finally, Anne went on, "I thought what Daniel had for me was love. I know I loved him. I'm not sure what he felt for me, possession perhaps. Whatever. He beat me, hurt me, whenever he felt that I'd looked at someone, or just been looked at by someone.

"I put up with it. I thought it was love! Finally, he broke my wrist. Daniel had always hit me where it wouldn't show. The young doctor was really worried about me when she saw my bruises and made me realize I didn't have to allow anyone to do that to me. I started the divorce proceedings later that week. When my solicitor confronted him with the evidence we could provide to a court, Daniel gave up on contesting it. I haven't actually seen him since that day in the solicitor's office."

Anne paused, taking a breath, long suppressed emotion coming to the surface. Stan stroked her, calming her. Anne's eyes were now unfocussed as she stared into her distant past, confronting her demons.

"That was ten years ago. I haven't been with anyone since. If it hadn't been for my fingers and vibrator I'd have exploded long since." Anne looked at Stan again. "You, my saviour, somehow got through to me. You're a sweet, gentle man and you made me trust you like I've not trusted in all that time. Thank you."

They lay together a while longer, neither feeling like talking, just touching one another, communicating without words. Eventually, Anne's breathing became slow and even. Stan followed her into sleep soon after. They lay there, on their sides facing each other each with an arm over the other, on top of the coverlet, fast asleep.

- - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 15



Chapter 15

It was Friday. Denise was waiting by the phone. She'd been there all day, with only short trips into the kitchen to grab snacks.

Jim had promised to ring her today. Ibiza was an hour ahead, so when it was ten o'clock in the morning here, it was eleven a.m. over there. Surely Jim would have woken early today, he was going to ring her.

While she waited, she ran back over her holiday in Ibiza in her mind, savouring the memories...

- - - - - - - - - -

On that second day of her break, she had sunbathed near the pool of her hotel. Deciding that her back had become well toasted, she turned over. On the beach, many of the girls went topless, but here by the hotel pool it just wasn't done. Denise had a very small white bikini on, which served to preserve her modesty – just.

She closed her eyes, basking in the hot sun. Denise thought she could be content with this for the whole holiday, but supposed she ought to do something else, if just to break up the time.

An unknown time later, she felt a shadow across her eyes. Reluctantly she opened them, to find a young man standing over her, two drinks in his hand. She shaded her eyes with one hand, but couldn't see him as the bright sun silhouetted him.

"W-would you like a drink?" he stammered to her.

From the sound of his voice, Denise didn't think the boy could even be old enough to buy drinks.

"Thank you, but, no!" she told him. "It's very kind of you to offer, though" she continued more gently, "perhaps it would be better if you asked someone of your own age?"

He stammered something she couldn't catch and walked away. Denise was sorry to disappoint the boy but really didn't want that sort of attention. As she watched him walk off, she wondered if he had an older brother.

She relaxed again, closing her eyes and letting her thoughts drift where they would. She saw a guy, with thinning hair and laughter lines...

Denise shook her head slightly. Stan was out of her reach. It was time to 'Move On'.

She heard a feminine voice from her left, "Hey girl, that was pretty cool. Firm but nice. I'm Janice, by the way."

Denise rolled her head and opened one eye. She saw a girl with dark hair wearing a tangerine bikini gazing back at her with an open smile and laughing eyes.

"Hi! I'm Denise," she answered. Denise propped her head up on her arm, resting on her elbow. Janice looked to be in her mid-twenties. She looked attractive without being beautiful – 'vivacious', Denise decided, was a word that fit.

"Nice to meet you. You staying here?" the younger woman asked.

"Yes. It was a last minute booking, I was glad to find I could afford it here."

The Hotel Pacific was close to the beach, close to the most famous clubs in San Antonio, and had been recently renovated. Denise couldn't believe it when she saw online how inexpensive the room was. It had turned out to be as nice as she'd hoped, though - with a view from the sitting area of her second floor bedroom, overlooking the pool.

"Everything is so expensive here. I can't afford to go out every night like some do. And quite apart from the fact I don't think I could hack that lifestyle any more."

Janice sat up and looked Denise over carefully.

"You're not old!" she scoffed. "You can stay up a few nights if you want to, surely? As for expense, that's where you're wrong. Lots of it's free... if you use your head – or in your case, those wonderful tits."

Denise was a little shocked at the comment. Her mouth fell open and she was about to reprimand the girl, but then she felt a little excitement. She wanted to enjoy herself more here. Going to San Antonio was her last chance at really letting herself cut loose, and she didn't want to miss out simply because she couldn't afford things.

After a pause she answered, "I'm a little over the Club-18-30 level. You'd have to carry me out of the clubs if I were to stay until five or six in the morning!"

"What, not even going to try it once?" Janice asked, teasing the older woman. "You know you want to!" she prodded.

So it began. The two started chatting amiably enough and learned about each other. Janice was single, twenty-six, had never been married but had lived with her boyfriend for several years before a reasonably painless break-up. "We just grew apart, I think. We're still friends, but we could never be lovers again."

This was Janice's third visit to the resort. "I fly home on the 17th, what about you?" she asked Denise. Excitedly, Denise said she was flying home that same morning, so they'd have lots of time together.

"Oh good! Now you can meet up with the rest of the gang. We all troop down to the pre-club bars, have a few drinks and eye up the guys. We latch on to any that seem up for it and willing to take us clubbing but, even if we don't find any suitable guys, if you dress smart and sexy you can sometimes get in for free. Don't buy more drinks at the clubs than you have to – I generally stick to water once we're in there."

"Gang?" Denise queried.

"Yeah, there're four of us – five if you come along. Me, Devon, Sue and Millie. We're all about the same age, all over here looking for fun and no more, and all up for it!"

Before long Denise had agreed to meet them outside the hotel an hour or so before sunset. She was told to "Dress up sexy, but not too trashy or you'll get the wrong fellas," then went to have a shower and a look through her wardrobe.

She'd done some homework before leaving, and knew that some smarter, sexier clothing might be needed. So Denise had brought along a couple of 'party' outfits. She decided on a daringly short crop top in black and a matching micro-skirt, with a sexy pair of black heels, and studied herself in the mirror.

As always, Denise felt she should lose a few pounds, but she had to admit that her curves looked good. The small roll at her waist worried her a little, but she decided that she simply had to go for it.

Denise went down to meet her companions for the night. She didn't have to wait long before Janice came out of the hotel entrance, followed by three other girls. All of a similar build and age, but all different – Devon was blonde, Sue had brown hair but Millie was chocolate brown all over, with a tight set of ebony cornrows. Denise recognised Devon from the flight in, and wondered about the rest.

Introductions were performed. Millie and Sue had only arrived two days before. The girls all walked off towards The Ship Inn, nearby. This British themed bar was a good and relatively cheap place to start. Directly opposite was a newer bar, called The Hollywood Showbar. After a few drinks and some 'getting to know you' chatter, the girls moved across to the Showbar, where things were considerably raunchier.

More vodka & lemons were consumed as the evening wore on and the girls watched the sun go down. The view wasn't as good here as it was at the Café del Mar, but it was still a sweet thing to see. By then none of them were feeling any pain.

Wherever there are attractive young ladies, especially in a place like Ibiza, there will be young men. Devon was overtly comparing the lads against each other, chatting animatedly with Millie about their relative merits. Denise was almost beyond the point of decorum herself, but managed to keep within limits. She'd check out the guys, but not openly ogle them; she'd talk about them, but not in anatomical detail... Yet!

Janice suggested that they take a quick tour of the bars, "Let's see what's about." Sue and Devon giggled, Millie muttered something inaudible, then said "Okay, let's go!" and Denise soon found herself being cajoled along as the five girls walked from bar to bar down the strip.

"I quite fancy 'im, but 'e's got a right rough lookin' bunch o' mates 'angin' roun' wiv 'im," said Sue in her thick East London accent. She was looking over at a group of guys hanging around outside a bar near the end of the strip.

Millie said, "That's okay, we'll distract them for you!" and grabbed Denise by the hand as they sashayed towards the lads. Janice and Devon followed.

The poor guys didn't stand a chance. Before they knew it, Sue had effortlessly removed her target from the group, separating him from the protection of his peers while her friends engaged them with banter and not so coy looks. Just in case their attention wandered, Devon, in an exaggerated movement, put her arm around Janice and they began to kiss, apparently passionately. The girls kept this up for a few minutes before Millie said out of nowhere, "Hey! There's Grant!" and set off back up the strip. Janice, Devon and Denise followed, but Sue had disappeared – and so had her target.

"Mission accomplished!" laughed Millie as they regrouped down the street, white teeth flashing brightly in her dark face. The girls grabbed each other, laughing and almost falling over. That had been fun! Denise had to control herself a little, she was responding to the cuddling from the girls, and even more to the sight of Devon and Janice in a tight embrace.

"Time to see if we can get into Es Paradis or Eden!" declared Devon. So they moved off towards the two clubs.

Situated opposite one another, one, Es Paradis, represented legendary Ibiza. It was famous for its Fiesta del Agua, where the dance floor was flooded and turned into a water party.

Eden, on the other hand, represented the New Wave in San Antonio. Eden alone of the major clubs had a dress policy, tops to be worn, no football shirts etc. Its music mix was more cutting edge than that inside Es Paradis.

What the girls were trying to do was to get inside one of these clubs. It wasn't going to be easy, as none of them had tickets. The best answer was to be let in because they were beautiful and sexily dressed, but in August the competition, and the queues, were fierce.

The next best thing was to find some guys who'd get them in. This, of course, ran the risk that they'd expect something for their trouble. None of the girls were virgins, but equally none of them wanted to just 'do it' at the drop of a hat either, so considerable negotiation skills were needed to persuade a group of guys to get them tickets and still set some clear limits.

Janice was, it seemed, a born negotiator. Denise watched in awe as she approached a group of young lads, aged somewhere between eighteen and about twenty-two, and let them know that the five girls would do anything up to a limit for tickets – and got both the guys and the girls to agree the limits. 

After what seemed an interminable wait they managed to get in Es Paradis. Denise had been in this club on her previous visit to Ibiza, so she looked around to see if anything had changed. Not really, she concluded, it all looked much the same.

It was an ornate, classy place, with white marble, roman columns and a round dance floor/pit, surrounded by podiums for dancers and with the DJ desk overlooking it all.

Denise found herself with a young lad of eighteen, and she was happy to dance with him, cuddle and kiss, and allow him to fondle her a little, but no further – and as he confided to Denise at around four in the morning, both of them exhausted, he was happy with just that as he had a steady girl at home.

Denise saw Janice tiredly trying to get her attention. She pulled herself up and walked over to the younger woman.

"I think it's time for bed. Devon and I are going home. Are you coming, or are you going to stay with him?" indicating the boy with a lift of her chin.

"No, he's sweet but not my type. I'm going to bed too – I'll come with you two. Where's Millie?"

"Millie? She left an hour or two back with her guy. I think she might be giving him a little bonus!" Janice told her with a wink.

So Denise said goodnight to her temporary escort, giving him a hug and a squeeze. Then she joined the other two girls as they made their unsteady way back to the hotel.

Denise slept through until about ten in the morning.

- - - - - - - - - -

For the next week, Denise, Janice and the rest of the girls continued in the same vein. If they couldn't get into Es Paradis or Eden, they made their way to Club Nightlife near the taxi rank, which had no cover charge – meaning they didn't have to worry about hooking up with guys. Of course, that didn't mean they didn't want to find men. All five of the girls enjoyed themselves with the guys at the bars, but Denise was careful, keeping things limited to kisses and cuddles, but no real sexual content beyond seemingly innocent touches and cuddles. She had to admit to herself, though, that she enjoyed it when one of the other girls would snuggle up to her suggestively, keeping eye contact with her 'target', and kiss Denise as sexily as she knew how. Rarely did this tactic fail!

But on the second Thursday of her stay, that changed.

- - - - - - - - - -

She met him at the Showbar. Jim was a 'scouser', actually born in Liverpool. He was slightly shorter than she was, with a shaved head, a bright smile and a typical Merseysider's quick wit. He'd been standing on his own near the bar, just watching, and their eyes met. He was around twenty, with a lithe, fit looking body. Denise felt an instant physical attraction. They danced together for a bit, and she found that they matched well, but it wasn't until they met again the next night that she found his quick wit and sense of humour matched his physical charms.

Denise knew herself, and could feel that she was falling for the young man. They got to chatting over some drinks in a quieter corner of the Showbar, and Denise found out a few things. Jim sold cars for a big dealer in Liverpool, and his ability to sell himself soon won over Denise. His wide, brown eyes simply invited trust, and Denise found herself answering the invitation.

Jim asked how long she was staying, where, what it was like there, all the usual enquiries. Denise answered, and in return gleaned that Jim was staying at a hotel further in to San Antonio, the Hotel Brisa. This, Jim said, was "a bit of a shithole, but all I do is keep my stuff there and sleep sometimes, I'm not worried about it."

Jim had arrived in San Antonio a couple of days earlier. He was staying until the Friday after Denise left, and said, "That's a good thing, that is!"

Sure enough, on the next night Jim was there at the Showbar again. Jim was quite willing to be dragged along in the company of the five women – all older than him – as they went from bar to bar along the strip. Denise and Jim parted company from the girls there, staying in Club Nightlife while the others made their way back up the strip.

The DJ was playing some slower, Trance tunes. Denise grabbed Jim and they were soon in a close embrace, swaying in time with the music. Jim leaned in, kissed her and Denise responded strongly. When they pulled away from the dance floor, Jim still held Denise, directing her towards a darker corner of the bar.

Denise went willingly, her inhibitions drowned in the alcohol and the atmosphere and the two were soon lost in each other, making out right there in the club. Denise felt Jim's hands caressing her breasts through the thin material of her top, and she responded by rubbing his chest and following it down to his hip, moving both hands behind him to the cheeks of his backside. 

Her holiday now more than half over, Denise could feel the end rapidly approaching. 

Throwing caution to the winds, she asked, "Jim, how about we go out together, as a couple, for the rest of my stay here? Would you like that?"

Jim nodded with typical enthusiasm. "Sure thing!"

Denise was pleased to be called to reception on Sunday just after lunch to meet Jim. They'd agreed to visit the salt flats at Las Salinas, at the southern tip of the island. It meant a trip beyond the airport. "It's beautiful," Denise told Jim, looking around at the lakes and seeing the flamingos in the middle of the lake.

Afterwards, they went to the beach, where Denise was amused by Jim's reaction on finding a number of nudists.

"Did you know this was a nudist beach, Denise?" he asked, flushing bright pink.

"Yes, it's in the brochure that was in the hotel reception. Didn't you?" Denise responded, trying, almost successfully, to hide a grin.

He moved behind her, trying to keep his body out of sight of the naked holidaymakers.

"Aren't you embarrassed at all?" he asked.

"Nope. Why should I be? I've got a body, you've got a body, they've got bodies!" Denise's grin grew predatory. "In fact, why don't we strip off and join them?"

"No way!" Jim responded, "I couldn't!"

"Something to hide, Jim?" asked Denise with a grin. She glanced down and saw Jim's obvious arousal, much to his embarrassment. In truth, Denise was enjoying the view herself, as her nipples testified, but it seemed Jim hadn't noticed that. 

They spent the rest of the day lazing around, getting to know one another. They came back to San Antonio, went to a bar and had something to eat, then lazed along to the beach and watched the sun go down. Later, Jim was able to finesse some cheap tickets to get into Eden. Sometime after half past three in the morning Denise emerged from the club, exhausted, happy and with Jim in tow.

On Monday, around lunchtime, the two holidaymakers met at his hotel. The two-star Brisa was more basic than the Pacific where Denise was staying, but then, as Jim had said, he wasn't actually using it that much. Jim showed Denise around that part of town, which in truth didn't take long.

That night Jim suggested, "Hey, Den, want some 'echoes'?" Denise looked at him for a moment, not understanding, then Jim mouthed "Ecstasy" to her. Denise shook her head; she didn't want anything to do with the drug. Jim shrugged his shoulders and went to get her a drink instead. He made sure that Denise's was a very large one.

Later in the evening Denise, who'd been drinking heavily, decided she'd had enough and asked Jim to take her outside. Jim took Denise by the hand and soon after one o'clock in the morning they left the club together. Denise wasn't walking entirely straight, but she'd maintained enough sense to know where she was going. They went to her hotel room where she slyly looked at him with a promise in her eye – not that he could see much in the dark.

"Coming up, Jim?" she whispered in his ear.

"Mmmhmm" Jim replied, nodding.

The first place Denise went to was her fridge. She grabbed two bottles of water and handed one to Jim. He looked surprised for a moment.

"Why the water, Denise? No alcohol?"

"The water will help to stop you, and me, waking up tomorrow with a pounding head. At the least, it'll reduce it so I can function!" she told him.

Jim looked grateful as he saw that Denise was trying to alleviate the inevitable hangover that they were working on.

Denise took Jim by the hand and drew him along to her bed.

She was wearing her crop top, but this time with a pair of very tight shorts, and when she turned to look at Jim he stepped into her arms and reached for the hem of her top without pausing. Denise playfully slapped at his arm, growled "Down, boy!" and leaned forward to kiss him.

The kiss went on for some time. Jim had his hands all over Denise, grabbing her ass, now squeezing a breast, later pinching a nipple almost too tightly. Denise responded, melding herself to him, one hand on the back of his head, controlling the kiss, the other snaking down between their bodies to feel his erection, now hard, insistent. Denise felt her insides had turned to jelly, she felt a fire within.

Eventually she pulled away from the kiss and reached for her crop top. She lifted the garment over her head, and Jim whistled appreciatively at the revealed breasts. Although Denise was in her thirties, she'd kept in shape there, even if her small waist roll resisted attempts to make it go away.




Equal Shares Ch. 15



Her small pink nipples were very firmly erect, and they ached a little. She lightly rubbed and twisted them as she smiled at Jim and said, "Well? It takes two, you know?"

Jim shut his mouth and immediately started tearing off his clothes. Denise watched, amused, but she hid it successfully in the dark of the room. Once he was down to his khaki shorts, she placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned in for a kiss as she slid down to her knees. She pulled his shorts off, revealing a more than respectable erection. Denise looked at it with mock fear.

"Oh, My! Your penis is so big! However will it fit?"

She wasn't sure that Jim understood her levity, but he did look happy at her words. 'Boys!' she thought. She wrapped her right hand around his shaft and started to lightly rub it, up and down, while making appreciative sounds.

She looked up at Jim, who was clearly enjoying what she was doing. She leaned forward a little and kissed the tip of his penis, before rocking back and standing up.

"I don't think we want these any more, do we?" she asked him as she slid her thumbs inside her panties and lowered them, letting them drop and kicking them away once they pooled at her feet.

Jim swallowed, his cock bouncing slightly. The head was red, when Denise looked up at his face she saw that he looked... anxious, eager, barely restrained.

Once again she dropped to her knees in front of him but this time she wrapped her lips around the head of his penis, sucking gently for a moment before reaching up with a hand to grasp his shaft and stroke it. She felt a hand reach to the back of her head, pulling slightly to indicate that he wanted her to suck more of him into her mouth. Denise hummed a little as she moved forward, opening her lips a little, impaling more of his dick into her mouth before pulling back, sucking and licking as she went. She sucked his cock for a few minutes, taking a little more of him inside her mouth each time, before looking up at his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself down on him.

Jim's penis was now almost all embedded in Denise's mouth, but she couldn't quite get all of him in before her gag reflex took over. 'Oh well, this is plenty enough for me,' she thought, and began rapidly bobbing on his oozing dick.

Jim didn't – couldn't – last long. Before her jaws could begin to ache she felt his penis swell, then he began trying to push more of him inside her mouth. Denise's hand on his cock prevented that, but it was obvious he was about to cum – and cum he did, coating her mouth and tongue with semen.

Denise was slightly miffed that he'd not warned her, but it was okay really – she had enough experience to recognise what was happening. She grinned up at him, then opened her mouth to show him the small lake of white liquid there. Denise closed her mouth and swallowed, then stood up and pulled Jim to the bed. "My turn," she told him and lay back, pulling his head to her belly.

Jim seemed unsure at first, but soon she had him eating out of the... well, out of her pussy. He was unskilled but rapidly became enthusiastic, licking and sucking. Denise kept up a running commentary on how nice things felt, what she didn't like, suggestions for him to try. Before long she gripped his head between her thighs and shuddered, before finally relaxing back onto the bed and releasing Jim.

Jim pulled away, catching his breath. He crawled up the bed and sprawled next to Denise.

Denise rolled over to look at him. Jim lay propped up on one elbow, looking at her.

She reached down and started to lightly fondle his penis.

"How long do you think it'll take for little Jim down there to recover?" she asked him.

"N-not long, I think..." he told her, "Fuck! Not long at all!" as he started expanding in her hand.

Before long he was fully hard again. Denise rolled him onto his back and straddled him, lowering herself onto his hardness with a pleased hiss. It had been quite a while since she'd had a real penis inside her.

Once she was fully seated, she started rocking back and forth. Jim began to try to thrust up at her, but she laid a hand on his chest and gasped out, "Let me, I'll get off and then I'll see to you."

Jim wasn't able to control himself completely, but soon Denise wasn't worried about that as she started the climb up to her orgasm. She was rubbing her clit over his pubic bone, enjoying the sensation of his prick inside her, and she closed her eyes while continuing the rhythm. 

Still with her eyes closed, Denise asked, "Play with my tits?" Jim reached up and started fondling her breasts. Denise said, "Mmmm! More! And be harder!" Soon Jim was pulling, squeezing and kneading her flesh. He squeezed too tightly once and she yelped, so he dropped things back a fraction.

It took a while, but soon enough Denise was shuddering, squeezing his cock and heating it with her juices. She fell forward, catching herself on her arms, kissed him and rolled over. "Fuck me! Fuck me, hard! I need it!" she told him.

Jim knelt between her thighs as she spread them wide. Denise took his penis and held it to her opening, pulling a little to tell him it was time. Jim thrust home in a single deep lunge, and soon was powering his way into her. Denise was softly panting, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" as he thrust into her, pushing her own pelvis back at him in rhythm.

Denise hadn't quite got there when Jim's thrusts sped up and then his cock swelled again as he forced himself as deep as possible into her. She felt his dick gushing into her, heard his grunts, and felt his hips twitching.

Jim fell on top of her for a moment, then rolled off to one side. He was incoherent, out of breath and utterly satisfied.

Despite not quite reaching her own climax, Denise thought she'd picked well for her first male lover in a couple of years. She reached down and started lightly rubbing around her clit, gathering some of the liquid flowing out of her, building, building until she came, this time with a small short yelp.

She drew her legs up and rolled over into a ball, facing Jim. When she opened her eyes again she saw him gazing at her in wonder.

"I've never seen a woman do that before," he told her.

"What, finish herself off? Sorry Jim, sometimes that's the only way, and I for one love doing it. Girls do it, boys do it, we all do it."

"Yes, but I've never watched it before. Not for real. I've seen it on the internet, but never for real... it was great!"

"Well," said Denise, "I'm glad you enjoyed watching, 'cuz I enjoyed doing it. You were pretty good yourself, you know?"

She went on, "Time for bed. I'm wasted. You can borrow my toothbrush." They got up, got ready, and slid under the covers this time.

Denise turned off the bedside lamp. She reached for him, and they lay in the bed, cuddling in the dark.

"Did you like it? Going down on me, I mean. I did," Denise told him once she'd caught her breath a little more.

"I've never done that before," Jim told her as they snuggled into one another, "you know, with my mouth down there. It was kinda nice. I wasn't sure I would enjoy it at first. But I found you taste wonderful. Hard to describe, but wonderful."

"Never?" she asked, though it had been obvious to her. He'd been enthusiastic but clueless. No match for a girl...

"No. I'd heard of it, seen it," Denise joined him, adding in stereo, "On the internet!" and then he continued, "but it's different when you actually do it. I liked it."

"Uh-huh. Well, you made me cum, so I'm certainly not going to complain. Did you like your blowjob?"

"Oh, yes!" he told her. "My ex-girlfriend used to do that sometimes, but it wasn't as good as that. I mean, a BJ's a BJ, they're all good, but yours was great!"

Denise reflected that he was a typical young male: full of bluster but scared and less experienced than he'd ever let on to his peers. She felt pleased that he'd confided in her.

"You say the nicest things, Jim. Now, sleep. Maybe we'll continue this tomorrow, huh?" she told him in a whisper, and soon they were both in the land of Nod.



Equal Shares Ch. 16



Denise woke up.

She immediately wished she hadn't. True, this wasn't the first hangover she'd woken up with on this holiday, but that didn't make it any better. 'I'll have to get up and get some water down me, oh and some painkillers,' she thought. She put an arm down to help lever herself out of bed.

When her hand fell on something she wasn't expecting, she remembered, 'Oh, God! Jim!'

She looked across to her left, where he was still asleep. In the diffused light coming through the curtains she studied him for a moment. Fast asleep, face slack, she could still see the fresh, open good looks that had attracted her in the first place. But she wasn't sure why she'd been so eager to take him to bed.

Suddenly the world spun on her, and she shakily got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Denise just made it in time to vomit down the toilet. Once she was sure her spasms had finished, she sat on the toilet for a while, taking care of business there while she waited for the shakes to reduce a little.

Finally feeling it possible, Denise stood up and looked in the mirror. Her reflection was pale, looked clammy and she winced at the sight of herself. It was time to look after herself a little.

Denise had put a stock of painkillers in the bathroom cabinet. She grabbed a couple before making her way to the fridge for another bottle of water. She sipped it, swallowing her tablets, giving her body a chance to begin recovery.

She glanced at the clock. Eight forty-five. It was still early in the morning for the party-party people, but Denise knew she'd not get back to sleep now. 'Time for some toast and coffee,' she thought. Denise scribbled a note to Jim, telling him she'd be at the restaurant downstairs in case he woke. She threw on a t-shirt and some jeans shorts and, grabbing her key and her purse, made her way down there.

While Denise was eating her breakfast she suddenly stopped.

'Shit! He didn't wear a condom!' she thought. 'It's a good job I'm on the Pill, but...'

'No. No. It couldn't happen. Any way, Jim was clean and fresh, and wasn't very experienced so it's not like he's been sleeping around. There's no need to worry.'

'None at all.'

Denise went back to enjoying her toast and coffee.

- - - - - - - - - -

By the time Denise had finished and returned to her room, Jim was stirring. When she opened her door and looked across at the bed, Jim opened one eye and focussed, with a little difficulty, on the red-head.

"Hiya gorgeous," he managed. It was croaky and scratched, but comprehensible.

"Aw, did you have a tough night, little baby?" crooned Denise as if to a child. "Let me take care of you," she continued, sashaying towards the bed. On reaching it, she grasped the covers and pulled them off in a single fast sweep.

"Hey!" Jim yelped, then fixed her with a determined gaze. "Time for you to learn not to do that to the Jimbo!" he told her severely, before grabbing her, hauling her onto the bed and holding her down.

Jim began tickling Denise, concentrating under the short ribs, then holding one foot and tickling there. Denise was in fits, giggling laughing, and finally begging him to stop.

He let her go, and the two of them recovered for a moment. Then Denise told him, "You're still in time for breakfast if you want it, or I can make a coffee in here if you'd prefer. Or there's water in the fridge?"

"I'll get a water, I think," Jim told her, and went to do so. When he came back to bed he had sucked down half the bottle. Denise turned to him and said, "Jim, we need to talk. We both fucked up last night."

"Yeah, we did, it was fun!" he told her with a leer, but his face fell when he saw her impatient gesture and expression. Denise was serious.

"Don't fool around. Last night, we never used a condom. I'm on The Pill, so pregnancy shouldn't be an issue, but it's still unsafe. We can't do that again."

"Hey, I ain't got nothin'," he told her huffily, but Denise cut him off, saying "No, I don't expect you have, but we can't take chances like that. Besides, for all you know I might have had something for you to catch.

"All of which is past and besides the point. If you want to be with me for the rest of my time here, we use condoms. End of story. Do you want to be with me?"

This was the big question for Denise. Jim was attractive, young, fit and not afraid of trying new things. Denise was really hoping he'd say yes.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I've really enjoyed being here with you. You're fun! I think we could have more fun together for the next few days, and I'd like to be with you to do that," Jim told her.

- - - - - - - - - -

They spent the day together, going for a ride on the tour train. They had a drink in the little bar in Santa Ines like all the other tourists, and laughed together a lot. Jim was quick with jokes and comments, and Denise was captivated. They had lunch together at a Tapas bar, then Jim told her he had to go to his room and get some things. They agreed to meet outside her hotel that evening.

Denise floated back to her hotel. She couldn't believe how good the day had been, how much she'd enjoyed herself, how charming Jim was. He was young, raw and a little rough around the edges but his wit would always get him out of trouble and he certainly seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting from Denise.

She ran a bath, thinking about what to do tonight. After a while, thinking about tonight, she 'let her fingers do the walking'. It took a while - she made sure of that!

- - - - - - - - - -

Outside the hotel, Janice and the girls met her. They were ready to go down to the bars, but Denise wanted to wait for Jim, so she texted him "Where R U?" with a kiss at the end, only to see him walking towards her a scant minute later.

Jim was certainly a happy lad – he was with five pretty girls again! Well, four, because Sue had brought her conquest from the other night along, and she was keeping him very close company.

Denise was content to let Jim flirt with, and be flirted at by the other girls. She knew that Jim would be with her that night. Besides, he didn't pay much attention to the other girls, just enough to be friendly.

This time they never made it into Es Paradis or Eden, instead they spent the evening going from bar to bar, having fun, making noise and generally just goofing off. Around two in the morning Denise gathered Jim, now walking unsteadily, and pulled him away from the others.

"Spoilsport!" teased Devon.

"Yeah, 'We know where you're going'," sang Janice, with a wide smile.

"We know what yer gonna be doin' when you get there, too!" laughed Millie, her arm around an impossibly tall brown figure who had a somewhat goofy smile – testament to a quick trip for them both to the ladies a few minutes earlier.

"Yeah, just what you'd like to be doing!" laughed Denise, as she guided Jim out of the bar.

It was almost two hours after midnight but still the strip was busy. They had to step around a young girl, much the worse for drink, sitting on the pavement, holding her head and saying "I'm not gonna be sick," repeatedly. There were several similar sights, some worse, all normal for a summer night in San Antonio. It took a while and some navigational effort by Denise, but soon enough they were back at her hotel.

They followed another couple into the hotel, rode up the elevator and they were soon opening the door and falling onto her bed.

"Wee-Hay... that was brilliant!" Jim said, loudly.

"Shhh!" from Denise, putting her hand over his mouth. She couldn't help but giggle, though.

Jim was affected by the drink but not so drunk to lose his wits; he looked up at Denise and said, softly, "Right you are. Now, come here and kiss me!"

Denise eagerly complied. They kissed deeply, tongues twining, then his hands were at her top, lifting. Denise pulled back a little to let him, her breasts free a moment later. She removed his t-shirt in the same way, then attacked his shorts. Within moments they were both naked, and she threw herself onto Jim, tackling him onto the bed. 

For a little while they wrestled for who was to be on top, but finally Jim flipped Denise over onto her stomach beneath him. He gave her a playful spank to her ass. "Oooh, you like it kinky!" she told him after a short yelp, and then flipped back over, pulling him onto her. She whispered in his ear, "Just how kinky do you like it? Do you want me to be your little slave girl? How about dress-up games? Would you like me to be a maid, or a devil...?"

Jim grinned at her, his white teeth showing in the near-dark of her room. He licked his finger – Denise's lessons again – and placed that hand on her mound. He traced her labia, finding Denise to be very obviously aroused, she was wet and slippery already.

Denise sat up, reaching over to her bedside cabinet. She groped in the drawer, got a condom out, and opened the packet.

Denise wished she could do what she'd read about, placing the condom on the man simply using her mouth, but it wasn't a skill she'd mastered. So she placed it lovingly onto Jim's penis and unrolled it to the base.

Denise was still whispering in his ear, making more and more outrageous suggestions. She stopped for a moment, taking his erection, now painfully hard, and placing him at her entrance.

He thrust home in one go, causing Denise to hiss, then began a slow, steady rhythm. Denise thrust back at him, adding to the excitement, and soon once again began whispering in his ear.

It was just as well Jim had been drinking, and had the condom, otherwise he'd have cum almost instantly, Denise reasoned. She could tell by the way his thrusts became more urgent, powerful, and deeper so quickly.

This one, she knew, would be for him, it would be her turn later. She urged him on, calling to him, telling him, "Cum in me. Go on, harder, faster, yes, yes, YES!" All pretence at being quiet was gone, now, the world consisted of just the two of them, grunting, thrusting, moaning. Finally, Jim held himself in her as deep as he could go, and with a loud "Aaahhhh!" he came, pouring himself into the condom.

For a moment the two lay together, recovering, then Denise gave Jim a small shove and he dutifully started to roll off. She held him for a moment, murmuring, "Condom," and held it onto him. Then she told him, "Better take care of that, honey!" and he got up and went into the bathroom.

When he came back Denise had turned on the bedside lamp. She patted the bed next to her, and told him, "Next time's for me. Get to sleep, we'll pick up in the morning."

Not long after, both were sound asleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise was, again, the first to wake in the morning.

She turned over and gazed at her companion. He was softly snoring, barely more than a cat's purr, lying on his back, mouth slightly open. Denise bent over, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and got up to go to the bathroom.

She found Jim stirring when she re-entered the room. "Hey there, lover," she crooned, and Jim smiled at her.

They had coffee, made in the room, and then Denise pulled Jim to her. "My turn," she grinned at him, and spread her thighs. Jim dived in, going to put his finger in her, but Denise held him back, and Jim remembered, licked his finger, and began to carefully trace the crease between inner and outer labia, before dipping his finger into Denise's dripping hole.

He then started licking gradually from the base to the top of her cleft, as Denise whispered instructions, "Yes, more!" or "Lower" or such. It took a while but eventually Denise was huffing, panting, flushed and then Bam! Her orgasm hit her like a freight-train, all she could do was hang on for the ride. She didn't realize she was calling out to Jim, saying "Don'tstopdon'tstopyesyesyesYES!" Jim's head was clamped between her thighs, her muscles were in spasm, then she let go completely and rolled on her side.

Finally she was able to speak. "Oh, God! I needed that. I think you deserve a reward for that one, baby!" she told Jim, as she reached for his hard-on. She was still foggy from her climax, so at first all she could manage was to stroke him, keeping his erection going, but soon enough she lifted her head and took him in her mouth. Denise loved giving head, she enjoyed the texture and feel, and the ability to give her partner pleasure in this way.

She was working hard on Jim's cock, sucking, swirling with her tongue and jacking with her hand, and she felt it swell and pulse. She backed off so that she just had the head in her mouth, swallowing quickly, lightly sucking the head. Only when Jim's climax was complete did she let go and smile up at him, licking the corners of her mouth. Jim was staring at her, breathing heavily, with a 'just sucked' expression plain on his face.

- - - - - - - - - -

So, Wednesday flew by in much the same way as Tuesday had. The two relaxed and enjoyed tourist stuff during the afternoon, went around the bars with the girls in the evening and clubbed during the night time, with a heavy slice of sex thrown in. Jim was looking happy, Denise was having fun, all was well.

Finally, however, Thursday morning came. Denise woke up first... today she would fly home. She looked at Jim, fast asleep. They'd been up very late last night, and the sex had been good if somewhat of an aerobic exercise the last time.

Dense was looking forward to hooking up with Jim when they were both home. She'd fallen for the shorter boy, she found him physically attractive but also he, unlike other men she'd met here, lavished his attention on her without being distracted by the many other pretty things around.

She had to fly home that morning, so had to get up soon. Since she had to vacate the room, she nudged Jim, waking him.

"C'mon, honey, time to get up. I've got to get everything sorted, and get to the airport. Are you coming there with me?

"Unh? Yeah, whatever," came a grunted response, but Jim swung his legs over the edge, sat up, rubbed his head and began dressing. Denise watched fondly.

Jim helped her gather her things, and actually tried to help her pack, but soon Denise asked him to make a last cup of coffee to allow her to pack uninterrupted. It always seemed that she took home twice as much as she travelled out with! Finally she managed to get her suitcase shut – Jim sitting on it to help – and after a last check around the room, during which Jim embarrassed her a bit by holding up a pair of panties from the bathroom, they left her room for the last time. Jim stood discreetly aside as she checked out.

Janice and the other three girls were waiting outside for the courtesy bus as well. When the bus arrived Denise allowed them to enter first, then she got on. She turned and gave Jim a 'thank you' kiss as he followed her on, putting her bags on board.

Arriving at Ibiza Airport, Denise looked for the Departures board. Her flight was due to leave at 10:10 that morning, and it was already well after nine. They hurried to the desk, got their boarding passes and checked-in their luggage. Denise finally turned to say goodbye to Jim.

She reached out to him, and pulled him into her arms, kissing him deeply. Finally she pushed him back, with tears in her eyes, and told him, "I'm going to miss you, Jim, love. Call me tomorrow?"

For the briefest moment something shadowed Jim's eyes, then he replied, "Sure!" and kissed her again, before Denise tore away from him and went through to departures to board her flight. Her last sight of Jim was of him waving to her, smiling, his cellphone in his hand.

After an uneventful if bumpy flight, the plane landed at Stansted. There followed tearful farewells and promises to keep in touch and the five girls went their separate ways. Soon enough, Denise was home, happy with her holiday but sad that it had ended, as countless others have felt before her.

Denise went to bed that night tired by the travelling and the accumulated effects of the partying in San Antonio, but content in the knowledge that Jim would call her the next day. It was a good job she had Friday off! She put both her landline and her cellphone on her bedside table. Jim had both numbers, if he called her before she woke she wanted to be sure it would rouse her.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise slept through to after ten am that Friday morning. She checked her phones: no missed calls. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She quickly showered and dressed, and made herself some breakfast. Both phones were never more than a few feet away. Now it was a quarter to eleven, which would be a quarter to twelve, Ibiza time. Still early. Jim would call later.

She busied herself in the minutiae of clearing up after a long holiday. There were clothes to wash, some to throw away, in fact. There were souvenirs to arrange, some stuff that needed sorting for her to take to work, 'All the usual stuff!' she thought to herself. She'd remembered to buy the customary bag of sweets for the office. Courtesy of the Duty Free at Ibiza and a last moment purchase she had the makings for Vodka Lemons, too.

Denise fixed lunch, around about one o'clock in the afternoon. It was now two in the afternoon in Ibiza. Jim hadn't called, so she tried to get through to his cell. She couldn't get a connection. 'Oh, yes I can, its ringing... it's stopped. His phone must be out of charge,' she thought.

The afternoon crawled by. Denise still hadn't heard from Jim. She couldn't understand it. He said he'd call. Gradually she began to wonder...

By half past seven, Denise was sure he wasn't going to call, ever. She made herself a drink, deliberately choosing a Gin and Tonic instead of a Vodka Lemon. Soon enough, she was making another.

Denise felt optimism returning as she began convincing herself that all was well, Jim's phone was simply out of charge and he'd ring soon, tomorrow at the latest.

Then the phone rang. Denise didn't bother looking at the caller ID, she just grabbed the phone and answered it.

"Hello? Jim?" she answered, eagerly

"No, sorry, it's me, Stan," she heard. Her face and shoulders slumped a little. "We wondered why you hadn't called?" she heard Stan continue.

Denise sighed. It wasn't Jim, it was Stan, the other man who didn't want her. Still, there was a chance Jim would ring, so she answered, "Oh, sorry. I'm waiting for a phone call. Um, sorry. Could you..."

"Of course!" Stan answered. He probably just wanted to get rid of her, Denise thought, but then Stan continued, "Look, I just wanted to tell you that we're down at the Mitre if you want to join us. I'll get off the line. See you Monday at the latest, yes?"

"Thanks, Stan. I'll probably stay here, in case my 'dreamboat' might call the landline instead. See ya!"

She wondered if Stan had noticed the sarcasm in the use of the word 'dreamboat'. Probably not, Stan was pretty clueless a lot of the time.

- - - - - - - - - -

So Denise sat by her phones until after midnight. Once again placing them by her bedside, she crept into bed, feeling sad and alone. It took a long time for her to find sleep. Perhaps Jim would call tomorrow. Yes. Of course he would. 

Wouldn't he?

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 17



Chapter 17: Anne & Stan

On Saturday morning Stan had woken with Anne, each feeling very slightly awkward with the other, not knowing what to say, and then a smile, a touch and all was well again.

Anne had looked coyly at Stan, who'd given her a long, lustful, lingering kiss. The kiss turned into a more extended make-out session, before Stan broke it off. He was a little embarrassed: he ought to have been physically aroused, but nothing was happening. 'Tempus fugit,' he thought ruefully while pulling on his trousers, 'I simply have to get into shape!' and got up in search of coffee.

Anne, looking worried, followed, not bothering to dress. She asked, "What're you after, Stan?"

"I need coffee to function, my sweet! – without it I'm a sloth in the mornings."

Anne embraced him and gave him another kiss. Finally, she pulled back and said, "Okay, I'm going to get dressed. Coffee's in that cupboard, you can have full-fat or decaffeinated – I want the real thing this morning." After a final peck on the cheek she flowed from his arms and back into the bedroom.

Stan got busy, and soon Anne emerged, wearing a tan wraparound skirt and white t-shirt. She got busy with toast while Stan went to put his shirt on.

They chatted about inconsequential things for a while over their breakfast, then Stan stopped for a moment and looked meaningfully at Anne.

"We need to decide what we're doing, you know."

"This weekend, or in general, Stan?" she asked, "I thought I'd made it clear what I want last night. I want to be your girlfriend, and see where it takes us..."

She paused for a moment, and Stan leapt in "I want that too, Anne. I want it so much I can't believe it."

Anne smiled back at him, eyes glistening.

"I know, Stan. I was going to say that you're the first man I've trusted, really trusted, since Daniel. I don't know how you've done it, but that's a fact I can't deny. It's...it's happened so quickly, that's all. But I want to be with you!"

Stan's more cautious nature reasserted itself.

"I want that too, Anne. But let's take things as they come, for now, and not say things we might regret later. I think we'll scandalize people at as it is, so let's slow down. We have a lot to discover about each other."

Stan decided some levity would be a good idea, so he added, "Besides, one thing you'll learn quickly is that I'm not a seventeen year old any more. I ache this morning, you gave me a good workout!"

Anne brightened again, "Horizontal callisthenics, you can't beat it!" 

The two finished their breakfast, then Anne, looking pensive, asked Stan, "Do you have a bike? A pushbike, I mean?"

"No, I don't. I haven't ridden a bike since I left school. Why?"

"This talk of exercise reminded me that I normally go for a ride on Saturdays. It's good exercise, non-impact, works most of the muscle groups and gets me out in the air instead of being cooped up by a computer or in the lab. You should try it!"

Stan wasn't keen on the idea. On the other hand, it would be more time spent with Anne...

"Well, the bike shop in town isn't open 'til nine. I guess we could go in and get a bike for me then. Doesn't have to be expensive, does it?"

"Not for what we want, although you can spend a lot!" 

"No, I can't!" Stan emphasised, grinning.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne drove Stan back to his place and returned home for her bike. She put on exercise shorts and a sweatshirt, checked her messages and email, then rode over to Stan's house.

Stan poked around among his clothes, finally deciding on what to wear, while listening to an album by Skunk Anansie. By the time he'd changed clothes she'd arrived. The two of them walked into town, Anne wheeling her bike. They entered the bike shop and Stan explained that he wanted a bike to ride on the local roads and such, not expensive, off-road NOT a requirement!

Anne told him he was a sissy, but Stan wasn't having it, "It's almost 30 years since I've ridden a bike at all, and you want me to go off-road? You could at least wait until you're going to collect the insurance money!" Anne laughed gaily and told the salesman to include a helmet, knee and elbow pads in the purchase. Stan just accepted, a little tight lipped.

They walked the bikes – at Stan's insistence – around to a park, and Stan gingerly tried riding again for the first time in over thirty years. Despite what they say about never forgetting how to ride, he didn't find it easy and wobbled alarmingly. Anne's obvious amusement at his attempts didn't make him feel any better, but after a while he started to rediscover his balance.

"You're starting to get it now, Stan. Tell you what, we'll have a ride along the paths here in the park for a bit, then we can ride the bikes home to your place and order in some lunch. How's that sound?"

Stan didn't answer audibly, he was concentrating, but he did nod his head. But it wasn't long before Anne told him it was time to hit the road. Stan groaned and told her, "That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" The only answer he received was Anne's laugh and change of direction.

A quarter of an hour later the two reached his house. "See? It's much more convenient than walking, and better exercise. You might even consider biking into work, Stan. I ride for around an hour, normally, a little quicker than we did just now."

"I think this is a ploy to get me to take exercise," grumbled Stan, who was sedentary by choice.

"Well. This morning you missed an opportunity, didn't you? Better fitness, more and better sex. There's an incentive for you!" Anne said, smiling to soften the blow to Stan's ego.

Stan wasn't terribly mollified, though. He worried for a bit while Anne used his phone to call in a lunch order from a local takeaway. He continued to worry while they waited for it to arrive, even though Anne carried the conversation.

When the food arrived, they put it on Stan's coffee table and sat in his comfortable armchairs to eat it. Anne had ordered more than enough, and they ate well. Satisfied, Stan got up and took the leftovers into the kitchen, then returned with a bottle of wine from the fridge.

He poured a glass each and sat on the sofa, trying to compose his thoughts. Eventually, Stan managed to come up with some words to express his misgivings.

"Anne, I know that I'm older, less capable than you might have wanted. I hope I can be enough for you."

Anne took one look at his face, and went to the sofa. She sat next to him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. The kiss was long and deep, Anne's tongue forcing itself into Stan's mouth, conveying her passion, her heat. Finally she pulled away from him and looked right into his eyes.

"Stanley Hinch, you're a wonderful man. I think I hurt you earlier on, and I didn't mean to. You are capable of the most important thing; you inspire trust of yourself in me. That's more important than mere physical things, because without that trust you wouldn't get near enough to me to use mere muscles. Now then, no more feeling sorry for yourself, and let me show you just how much I mean this. You're not going to have to do a thing!"

With that Anne reached for Stan's waistband. When Stan tried to help she slapped his hand and reminded him, "Remember, you don't have to do a thing!" She opened his fly, fished out his now rising penis and slowly, tantalisingly, lovingly started to stroke him with her right hand. She lowered her mouth to it and began to kiss up and down the sides of his penis, then she sensuously kissed up and down the underside of his organ.

Next Anne licked him, starting at his base and running up, slowly, so very slowly up to the tip, then running her tongue around the sensitive head she ran back down again, finally reaching the wiry hair at the root. Stan had now become hard, just as he had been last night. Looking down, Stan could see blonde hair, those wonderfully expressive hazel eyes watching him, and not much else, for his jutting manhood obscured the view of what he could only see in his mind's eye, those sensuous lips and agile tongue.

"You see?" she whispered to him, "Everything works fine. You have nothing to worry about."

She ran her hand up and down again a few times, and then finally, finally she placed her mouth around his crown, closed her lips and sucked. Again she swirled her tongue around him, then lowered her face some more, taking him deeper into her mouth. She backed off him, sucking as she went, her cheeks hollowing.

Stan was entranced by the sight of this beautiful woman performing such a task for him, by the sensations around his dick, by the thought that Anne felt so much for him already in their still young relationship. Then thought disappeared and only sensation remained.

Anne again lowered herself, unable to quite take in his whole length, getting close, close, trying to force herself not to gag and not quite succeeding. She sucked back up to the top of his member, coating him in saliva, then jacking while licking him, bringing him close but never quite over.

She again placed her mouth over the crown, lovingly pushing herself down, down, using her tongue on the underside of his penis. Soon Stan began attempting to thrust deeper, and Anne firmly gripped him around the base, waiting for him to subside.

Stan lightly ran the fingertips of his right hand through her hair for a moment, caressing down over the lobe of her ear, down her jaw to her chin. She lifted off him for a moment, shook her head and waved a finger at him, and he lowered the hand to his side again as she grinned and said, "Not a thing, Stan, not a thing."

Again she cycled, licking and jacking and sucking, making love to his penis with her mouth and hands. Anne was enjoying herself but was focussed on his pleasure, on showing this man that she already felt deeply for, that the body of a teenager wasn't necessary, that it was his soul that she wanted, needed for him to share.

Stan bucked underneath her and again Anne held him at the base of his penis, waiting for him to subside. Now she began to suck him in earnest, bobbing up and down, sucking on the way up, swirling her tongue around the tip at the peak of the upstroke, then almost lunging down to her limit.

Finally Stan could hold back no more and he grunted out a "Cu-cumming!" allowing Anne to suck hard at the bulbous end while pumping with her now tiring fist. Stan felt his orgasm approach, then his vision darkened and it seemed to him that he pumped endlessly into Anne's mouth.

For Anne it was consummation; she delighted in receiving Stan's seed in her mouth. She sucked gently, fisting him to get all of his ejaculate, then finally lifted her mouth away from Stan's slightly softening penis.

She carefully pooled Stan's cum on her tongue and nudged him, causing him to open his eyes again and watch her. She opened her mouth, showing him his cum as if it was her offering to him, then swallowed twice, licking her lips. She bent once more and licked up the last trace of cum on the end of his prick, wiping a stray tendril up into her mouth to finish and swallowed once more.

Stan looked on in wonder. Twice now Anne had orally taken him, something he'd never experienced until last night. This second time had been an exhibition of her feelings for him, and he was deeply, deeply touched. He lifted her head and bent down to kiss her, tasting his cum at the same time. He allowed no hint of distaste for that to come between himself and this marvel who had given herself so fully to him, kissing her with a love that so far neither had actually declared.

Their eyes met and once more they were fully in tune with one another. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary.

- - - - - - - - - -

Eventually, Stan tipped Anne's face up towards his and simply said, "Thank you."

Anne, understanding, nevertheless dimpled and replied, "You're welcome, Stan. It was my pleasure."

They passed the rest of the afternoon and evening playing some of Stan's wide range of music, talking, just being with each other. Eventually Anne had to go home to get changed. Stan asked if she could come over to meet him for breakfast, and Anne replied, "What makes you think I'm spending any more time away from you than I have to? I was planning on bringing a toothbrush and a change of clothes here."

Needless to say, Stan had no objection to that plan, but he did still have a small worry. If Anne expected sex he wasn't sure he could deliver after orgasming as hard as that.

When the two went to bed about an hour later, Anne simply cuddled him and told him, "Sleep, Stan. Just cuddle me, that's what I want from you."

Neither had used the L-word yet, but both were aware of it hovering in their minds. Anne had almost accepted that she loved Stan, understanding coming as suddenly as a crystallising supersaturated solution. Stan was having a harder time of it, wrestling with the love he still felt for Caron.

Late in the night, with one of Anne's arms still draped over him, Stan lay on his back with his eyes open, staring upwards. He silently asked the dark eyes that only he could see, 'What's happening, love? I'm beginning to feel for Anne the way I feel for you. Is that even possible?'

A little while later he felt reassured. He could love another – Anne – the way he loved Caron. He was reminded of a phrase from Robert Heinlein: "Love doesn't subtract, it multiplies!" Finally content, he drifted off to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sunday morning. It was already late; the clock on Stan's bedside cabinet said 10:30 in blinking green light. Stan looked across the bed.

Anne lay looking utterly relaxed in her sleep. Once more Stan marvelled at her beauty. He couldn't believe what she'd done for him the previous night on the sofa, it had been an utterly unselfish act. He knew that he should reciprocate, but Anne looked so sweet in her sleep that he didn't want to wake her.

Stan carefully slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom for his morning pee. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth he grabbed his electric razor and quietly walked downstairs using the mirror in the hall to shave in.

He poured juice into a pair of glasses and made coffee, humming tunelessly to himself. Finally he returned carefully to his bedroom, put the tray down on the dressing table and went to Anne.

He bent over and kissed her gently, but she still started in momentary alarm as she woke. When recognition came into her eyes Stan saw her relax, and he gently rubbed her shoulder before sliding into bed alongside her.

"It's okay, Anne, you're with me," he told her, reaching across and taking a glass in his hand. "Here, have some juice." Anne smiled and took the glass from him, sipping at the cool drink.

Stan reached for his coffee and drank, too, and quietly watched as Anne shook off the cobwebs of sleep. He finished his drink before her and reached out for his juice.

"I told you, I need coffee to function in the mornings, melamin," he told her.

"Huh?" Anne stopped and asked.

"It's Elvish for "My love," he told her, softly. "I told you the night before last that you were my elf-maiden, and I once had a silly idea of writing love poetry in Elvish after seeing the films. I took one look at learning the languages - yes, there are two! - and gave up on that, but I remember that word. It just sprang into my head this morning. It seems to fit you."

Both Stan and Anne were aware of the line that had just been crossed. Love was a four-letter word that couldn't be taken back, even if it was a little quick in coming.

They finished their coffees and Stan leant forward to nuzzle Anne's neck. She gave a low moan, tilting her head to give him access. Stan continued, then changed the point of attack to her ear, nibbling gently at her sensitive earlobe.

Anne slid further down into the bed, and Stan went with her, before kissing her. The kiss lasted a few seconds and seemed to last a lifetime before Stan came up for air. He gently kissed the tip of Anne's nose before sliding gently down and caressing the undercurve of her breast before working up to kissing her nipples.

Stan then repeated his technique of two nights ago, weight on one arm with that hand caressing her face and the other hand arousing the sensitive flesh of her opposite breast while he gently nibbled, licked and swirled his tongue around the nipple of the nearest breast. This time, however, he had other plans.

He removed his right hand from the mound of flesh he was caressing and licked the middle finger before sending it lower.

Anne was losing herself in the wonderful sensations coming from Stan's caressing hands and mouth when she felt one hand disappear before she felt it rub gently, so gently against the top of her pussy. She opened her legs to provide access and was rewarded when she felt one finger briefly enter her, no doubt gathering some of the moisture she knew had to be there. She felt that finger enter then leave, tracing up her slit towards her most sensitive place.

The touch of his finger against her clit was electric, and she surged beneath him. Stan didn't repeat the touch right away; he drew his finger back along first one side of her outer labia and then the other, before dipping into her again and once more tracing upwards.

Still Stan upped the ante. His mouth was removed from her left breast as he kissed his way south, first the underside of her breast, then further, further, until her navel felt his tongue. Stan's hand left the side of her face as he repositioned himself. Anne, knowing where he was going, spread herself open for him as she felt him move between her legs, now raining kisses on her mound.

Once more she felt a finger dip inside her before trailing moisture upwards. Finally she felt his mouth between her legs, kissing and sucking the top of first one thigh then the next, before his tongue briefly penetrated her.

Stan tasted Anne directly from the source for the first time and was lost. The sweet, slightly metallic flavour was incredible to him; he knew he had to have as much of this as he could. He began licking in earnest then. Anne's legs moved of their own accord, throwing off the covers completely before pulling up, wide open and bent at the knees, laying herself totally open to him. It wasn't long before he heard her moans rise in pitch and frequency. She bucked beneath him, her pussy twitching. Stan stopped licking her clit, instead letting her come down while gently nuzzling the crease defining the junction of leg and torso.

Anne thought she'd gone to heaven, but was really surprised when Stan began again, this time with one finger inside, hooking, looking for her G-spot. She couldn't help the jump in reaction when he found it, and it wasn't long before she once again was lost in her orgasm.

Afterwards, she rolled onto her side and pushed Stan away. She felt just too sensitive there. Stan pulled himself up beside her and kissed her gently, arousing her again when she smelt and tasted her own juices.

For Stan the whole episode was one of sustained, loving eroticism. During that second time he'd been able to briefly lift his head, moving his finger inside her, watching her cum. He'd loved seeing Caron in orgasm, seeing Anne the same way reminded him of his lost love, but in a good way. He'd finally made peace, and watching Anne in orgasm sealed it for him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later Anne got up and attended to her morning needs. Stan got up with her and this time dressed, the two of them meeting downstairs a few minutes later.

"Why don't we go down to Iorio's for breakfast?" he suggested. Anne agreed but added, "We can take the bikes!" Stan, who was still a reluctant biker, agreed a little warily.




Equal Shares Ch. 17



The two pulled up outside the coffee shop a few minutes later, and after chaining their bikes they walked in.

"Hi Tony! I'd like you to meet Anne. Anne, this is Tony, he runs the place."

"It's-a my pleasure, my lady" Tony said. Stan was sure he was faking that accent, but had never actually caught him out on it.

Anne ordered a Cappuccino, Stan asked for a double Espresso. Both asked for a Panini for breakfast. Tony took the order and then with a lift of his chin told Stan, "Elaine is back in one of the booths. She didn't look too happy."

"Thanks Tony, we'll go and find her."

Tony waved acknowledgement and Stan led Anne to find Elaine. He found her without difficulty, but Stan was dismayed to see her slumped, looking miserable, cradling a cup between both hands. He wondered what had made her miserable and... 

'Where was Susan?'



Equal Shares Ch. 18



Chapter 18

Stan sat in the booth and Anne took a seat next to him, opposite Elaine. The cute receptionist looked up and Stan could see she was close to tears. Gently, he asked her, "Elaine, whatever's the matter? Is there anything I can do?"

Elaine barely managed "Su-Su-Sus-Susan!" and came to a halt, sobbing. Stan looked at Anne, for permission before he went around the table and sat next to Elaine with his arm around her.

"Ssshhh, it's okay, it's okay, I'm sure we can sort it out," he soothed. It didn't make much difference at first, but eventually Elaine controlled herself.

"Susan and I got into a big fight over another girl. Susan thought I was making eyes at her, but I wasn't!"

Stan looked at Anne, out of his depth. Anne didn't know what to do either, since she didn't know either woman well, but she did her best.

"Where's Susan now?" she asked Elaine, gently, "Do you know?"

"No. I-I came here after we were shouting at one another this morning. I thought she'd come with me. When she didn't, I-I didn't know what to do!"

"I'm here now, though, sweetie."

The voice came from behind Anne. She twisted around while Stan looked up and Elaine, after a glance, looked down at her hands again.

Susan had seen her eyes and her face light, then fade just as quickly. She moved around and gestured to Stan, who moved out of the way and sat with Anne as Susan pulled herself close to Elaine and took her head, lifted it and kissed her.

Stan watched at first, he couldn't help it, then he looked away, embarrassed at his rudeness. Anne tapped him on the shoulder and leaned in to kiss him when he turned back in her direction.

Elaine and Susan broke their kiss and moved apart, perhaps an inch. Both opened their mouths as if to say something, then stopped.

Anne interjected first "I think you two need some privacy to talk. We'll move over there," pointing to a table several feet and half a world away from the intimacy the other two were displaying, "and leave you to... talk." She nudged Stan, who shook his head and slid out of the booth, moving away, subtly guided by Anne to their own table.

They sat so neither had Elaine and Susan in view without turning their heads. They heard low conversation, audible but not understandable, from behind them. Anne leaned towards him and said, "Trouble in Sister-land?"

"Seems like. Elaine dotes on Susan, but Susan seems to be quite possessive. I hope they manage to make things work. I can see trouble in store otherwise.

"What about us? Are you possessive, Anne? If I looked at another woman – a straight version of Elaine, let's say, or Denise – would you yell at me, or would you wait to see if it was more than just a look, or not be bothered at all?"

Anne opened her mouth to reply but then shut it again. This was a serious question that deserved thought.

"It's still early days in our relationship, Stan. I trust you not to hurt me in the same way as Daniel did, but we need time to build the other kind of relationship trust that you're talking about. Does that make sense?"

Stan considered for a minute or two. He found it interesting, in a kind-of 'Chinese curse' way that his feelings weren't as clear-cut as he'd always thought...

"Yes, and I'm glad to see it. It's fine to talk about theory, but actual practice has a way of catching you unaware, like a science demonstration in school that goes wrong. In theory I'm not possessive, but I can see myself getting upset if you were to go and kiss someone else right now. But in the longer term, once we've built our relationship, then no I don't believe I'm a possessive person.

"Caron and I spoke about this often. We trusted each other absolutely, completely, totally. We both could, and did, go away for business trips without the other without suspicions of what the other was up to intruding.

"But I can now see that we developed that level of trust over time. A lot of it was there from the start, of course. A relationship needs a high level of trust in order to work, for me. But we added to it over time, by demonstration, by the way we behaved."

They sat for a moment, each thinking about what the other had said. Finally Anne said, "I can see that, I think. I'm not jealous of you going to give Elaine comfort the way you did, I don't think it's just because she's gay, either, it was simply helping someone who's hurt. But if you were to do that to someone under different circumstances, I might feel differently right now. But I can see that, over time, we can build up the trust between us. Trust enough so that you giving another woman a cuddle isn't a threat to me."

More time elapsed and the pair behind them had ceased talking. Stan risked a quick glance over his shoulder; he immediately saw that Elaine and Susan had made up, for certain. That liplock would need industrial tools to break!

He nudged Anne and asked, softly, "Have you finished your breakfast?"

"What about Elaine and Susan?" Anne asked.

"They're going to kiss and make out," he replied mildly. Anne looked puzzled for a brief moment but then glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

They left Elaine and Susan still embracing.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan and Anne spent the rest of Sunday simply getting to know one another better, spending time with each other.

They rode home, showered, changed and had coffee while listening to some music. But Anne wanted to be outdoors, it was a lovely day and good summer days weren't to be wasted hanging around indoors.

"Oh, come on Stan, you can't seriously be wanting to watch television on a beautiful day like today? Come out with me for a walk!" Stan didn't protest, he just wanted to please Anne.

They went for a walk in the park, holding hands like children. It was something that came naturally to Stan, but to Anne it felt odd at first. She hadn't held hands with a boyfriend like that since she was at primary school!

After a while she felt a natural acceptance that, when they walked together, Stan would take her hand. Not that Stan would be leading her, far from it – as the naturally fitter person, as well as the one who didn't avoid exercise when possible, Anne tended to be in the lead.

Stan, for his part, had decided that he didn't mind at all, he was happy and content to walk anywhere with Anne. At least his mind was, his body told him a different story after a couple of hours and he looked for somewhere to sit.

Luckily for him, there was a stall nearby selling drinks and ice creams, with some benches adjacent. Stan asked Anne if she'd like a drink or anything, Anne replied "Yes, certainly Stan, just a water for me please," and they walked over. Anne sat on a bench while Stan bought two bottles of water and an ice cream for him.

They sat together while Stan ate the ice cream, working quite hard to get it before it dripped down onto him. Anne was enjoying herself in the open air, Stan was enjoying the sensual pleasure of licking the cone and the needed chance to rest. Both were enjoying the physical and emotional contact with each other, wordlessly sharing their feelings.

Soon, Stan finished and Anne tugged him up saying, "Come along Stan, you've had your rest. I know you're tired, but we have to walk back – we can't stay here."

Stan hung his head for a moment then told her "I can see it's going to be a waste of time trying to hide anything from you! Actually, I am bushed, I just didn't want to admit it."

"We're going to have to get you a bit fitter, then Stan. We don't want you being too tired to look after me, do we?" Anne answered him with a mock pout as she finished. Then she opened into a sunburst smile. "No fear of that, however. I think I showed you earlier that you can satisfy me, regardless of mere biological hydraulics."

Stan told her, "Don't worry, you provide plenty of inspiration," with a wickedly exaggerated leer. "Let's see how I get on with riding that ruddy bike for a bit first, please? I think I'm going to have aching muscles where I didn't know aching muscles existed, and I don't care if that's a cliché 'cuz it's oh so very true!" he continued, with a more rueful expression. Just sitting for a few minutes had allowed muscles to stiffen. Suddenly he grinned.

Anne caught it. "Why the smile, Stan?" she asked him.

"I was thinking back to after a dance class, just before you started. Belinda told me I'd been too stiff. Goodness knows what she'd think now." His grin faded. "Oh, God, I just remembered - we've got dance again tomorrow night. I won't be able to move!"

Anne came close to him, rubbing one hand over his buttocks. "Don't worry, baby, I'll massage all those aches and pains away." Suddenly Stan felt more energy and couldn't wait to get home!

- - - - - - - - - -

Monday, the 21st of August dawned with a definite change in the weather. Grey, overcast skies awaited those who, like Stan, found it difficult to sleep.

He'd woken around four am, for no particular reason he could think of. He'd simply become gradually aware that he was awake in the dark. For an hour the curtains covering the window had become lighter and lighter, so that by five o'clock he could tell it was already daylight outside.

He slid out from under the duvet and walked into the bathroom for a pee. He leant with one hand against the wall, the other holding himself as he carried out the act, reminiscing on the events of last night.

Anne had, indeed, given him a full massage. She'd used after-sun lotion, as Stan hadn't thought about the sun yesterday and had caught it quite badly in a couple of places - particularly his upper arms and, sadly, the top of his head. "You'll have to wear a hat, Stan," Anne had sympathized, while softly, gently rubbing the lotion into his arms, and then proceeded to do the same to his head. It had been a first-class reminder of his age and he felt it fully this morning.

Still, he thought as he shook himself, it hadn't been all bad. Anne had sucked him to hardness – which hadn't taken long – and then impaled herself slowly. They'd each watched the other's eyes at first, then Stan had let his own drift down to her small but firm breasts, to her belly and then to where he was splitting her labia as she raised herself up and lowered again. Neither had been in a hurry, so Anne had gradually built herself up while Stan thrust himself up into her and finally, finally she shuddered, with another of her squeals - announcing her peak to the world.

She'd then collapsed onto him. It was a minute or so before they'd shared a long kiss and Anne had rolled off him onto her back. She tugged him by his still erect penis and told him it was his turn.

"Fuck me, Stan, just fuck me, I need you inside me!" Stan was only too eager to obey her command, and several minutes later he'd climaxed himself, a 'spots before the eyes' climax that had left him completely drained, out of energy and out of breath, and collapsed beside her.

Now it was Monday morning and later this morning he'd have to go to work. He didn't want to, he wanted to stay here with Anne, but even if he could take time off, he knew that Anne not only couldn't but wouldn't without a good reason, and he didn't want to challenge her with the 'Aren't I a good reason' argument. That sort of thing could blow up in his face.

Stan was already completely convinced: he was in love with this amazing woman. He'd never have believed it could be possible to fall so quickly in love twice in a lifetime, but deep inside him he knew it to be a fact. Admitting that to – nay, claiming it from – the outside world was going to be interesting, but there was no way he either could or wanted to hide it.

What Stan wasn't sure of was how Anne felt about that, at work. She'd carefully built up a persona there and this would knock it all down flat. As he'd said back in the restaurant, she'd revealed herself; the revelation of their relationship was going to throw down any remaining walls.

Stan walked carefully back into the bedroom trying to avoid waking his beautiful girlfriend... 'Girlfriend! I have a girlfriend!'. 

However, he soon found it was far too late for that. She was sitting up in bed, her small breasts with their still-upturned nipples crinkling in the cooler air.

Anne smiled at him, but she still looked concerned. "What's the matter, Stan? Why did you get up?"

"Oh, I woke up, and then of course I had to pee. Nothing in particular, nothing to concern yourself about," he answered the blonde vision as he got back into bed with her. Anne leaned towards him with her lips pursed, so of course he kissed her. It gradually grew more heated as their tongues danced and their bodies became pressed against each other. The kiss stretched time, so it seemed a thousand years or so before they once more parted.

"I don't think I can get enough of that!" Anne told him, so of course they had to repeat the experience! While kissing her, Stan felt a tug at his still mostly flaccid penis. He, in turn, began caressing Anne's breasts. It wasn't too long before Stan was rigid. He delved lower, and found Anne's folds were damp with arousal. Anne's hand, pulling at him, left no doubt as to her intentions, so they repositioned themselves, he between her legs which Anne held knees bent and thighs almost flat against the bed to the sides. She murmured, "ballet lessons" to him as he lined himself up, but it was Anne who pulled him into her, Anne who urged him on, Anne who was in charge.

Stan tried his best, he really did, but before long he knew he simply didn't have the energy to keep going for much longer. Luckily Anne was watching him closely, and realized that this time would have to be for him, so she adjusted her pelvis to allow a deeper penetration and urged him on, "Faster, Stan, faster, cum for me, cum, yes, cum, harder, I want that cock of yours in my belly, do me, do me, yes, YES!"

Stan reached a peak, forced himself as deep into Anne as he could go and jetted into her. His vision narrowed and all he could see were here eyes, full of love and joy in his release. With a gasp he fell sideways, chest heaving, completely spent.

Anne reached across and gently rubbed his arm, whispering something to him, not quite loudly enough for him to hear over the rushing of blood and the gasps for breath. He gathered his scattered wits and forced himself over to his side, facing her.

He looked a question at her, but she just shook her head and told him, "I'll get us some water, babe." She got up and left for the kitchen before Stan could think of stopping her, her blonde hair waving from side to side as she walked.

She returned with what was, for Stan, a desperately needed drink. He sank his glass in one go, and Anne silently handed the almost full glass in her hand to him. Stan just took a couple of gulps from this glass, then courteously handed it back.

"Thank you," he told her. She held up her glass and told him, "You're welcome."

Stan said immediately, "No, not for the water. Well, not just for the water. I meant it for what came before the water, love. Thank you."

She dimpled, looked down for a moment, then back up, smiling. "Well, I enjoyed it too, you know."

"You didn't cum, did you? I'm sure you didn't."

"Well, no, but it's not always a case of having to." She shifted from where she'd been lying on the bed, now sitting, knees together. "Come on Stan, you're not telling me that Caron came every time?"

"Well, no. But I tried..."

"Yes, I'm sure you did, Stan. It's okay. Look, I could see you were trying hard to keep going, just for me, but you'd have come to a full stop in three or four minutes more, wouldn't you?"

Stan looked down, unable to reply. But they both knew Anne was correct.

Anne took his hand, and told him gently, "That's fine. I'm not taking you on an athletics scholarship or something; I'm simply making love with you. With you Stan. That's what counts. You've given me more orgasms in the last few days than anyone other than my finger or Mr. Energiser has given me in the last ten years and you go off moaning to me that you're not good enough!"

Anne voice rose throughout her statement, ending in almost a scream. Stan was surprised, to say the least. He reached for Anne, but she shook him off.

"I thought you understood, Stan. I thought you did. I-I..." She came to a halt, unable to get the words out. Anne gulped and looked at Stan. Stan thought she looked scared, almost so scared she was unable to breath.

"I love you Stan. Those three words are words I never thought I'd be able to say again, to anyone. But they're true. I can't believe how fast it's happened, but I love you, I'm not going to let something as trivial as a missed orgasm come between me and the man I love."

This time when Stan reached for her she came willingly to him, and they embraced each other, not speaking, just feeling.

"Well, it's official then," Stan told the younger woman in his arms. "We love each other. I never expected it, and it's obvious you didn't either. Where do we go from here?"

Anne pulled back and looked at him. She smiled, and told him "I'm sure I don't know. It's liable to be quite a ride, though, isn't it? We've still got a lot to learn about each other. We can make it work.

"But first, old man, we have a day's work ahead of us. So get your ass in gear, as they say, it's time to get up and get going. Get! Go have your shower," she finished with a broad grin to show Stan she was only joking.

Stan got up and went. On his way he reflected that it seemed likely he'd be taking a lot of orders from now on, jokes or not!

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 19



Stan first had to take Anne back to her house so that she could change for work. Stan, in any case, normally arrived earlier than Anne, so they arranged to drive their own cars, for the time being at least.

The first thing that happened to Stan as he walked into The Firm was a surprise. Elaine came from behind the reception desk and hugged him. "Thank you, Stan," she told him, "thank you for being so kind and understanding yesterday." Stan protested, "But I didn't do anything!" But Elaine persisted...

"Yes you did, you gave me a hug when that's what I needed and then you discreetly cleared off out of the way when Susan and I needed space. We both noticed, both spoke about it, and we both thank you. Oh yes, this one's from Susan!" And she gave him another hug.

"Anyway, Susan and I did a lot of talking yesterday. Susan told me she's always in fear that I'll find someone else, someone more attractive or something. I told her I didn't need anyone else and I thought I'd demonstrated that I loved her. The rest is private, but the upshot is that I'm going to stop doing things that wind her up, and she's going to stop the unnecessary possessiveness that was getting to us both. Well, we'll both try, anyway."

"As part of that, with Susan's okay, I want to give Anne a thank you hug from us both as well, if she's not going to be upset or embarrassed by it. What do you think?" Elaine asked an overwhelmed Stan.

"I, er, well, er. Um. I can't really speak for her, but why don't you ask her? I know she's comfortable with you two girls, but being hugged by you might be different. "

"Okay then, Stan, I'll have to wing it," Elaine answered, sober faced.

Stan walked on through into the office, where Elizabeth was already at work as usual. "Hi Stan, good weekend?" she asked him, with a smile and a distinct twinkle in her eye.

He sat down at his desk as he answered, "Yes, very!" with an equal twinkle. Each looked at the other for a moment, and then both burst out laughing.

"Okay, you first!" managed Stan. Elizabeth retorted, "No, you first!" with more laughter from both.

"Okay, okay, I'll go first," yielded Elizabeth. "I suspect my weekend wasn't as exciting as yours, anyway. James drove over to my place and we had a nice dinner. What with an aperitif before the meal, wine with it and a brandy afterwards he couldn't drive home, so he stayed overnight."

Stan didn't say anything, but his eyebrows lifted in question.

"No, we didn't! He was a perfect gentleman. He was going to call a cab, but I offered him my spare room and he accepted. So you can get your mind out of the gutter! Now, you have a slightly more interesting tale to tell, I suspect?"

Stan couldn't help but smile, but he answered, "A gentleman never tells tales about a lady," in a fake posh voice with his nose held loftily up in the air. Elizabeth laughed again, put one finger beside her nose and told, him "Don't worry, I'll not pry into your affairs!" And they again smiled at one another.

Stan however added, "I can say that we'll be seeing each other again, often I hope. Tonight for certain, at our dance class, and I hope more often after that."

Elizabeth looked as pleased as Punch, Stan noted. "You can stop looking so smug!" he told her. "Why? I've got someone else to look after you now!" Elizabeth answered. She grew more serious and continued, "I was worried about you, Stan. But if you can snare as good a catch as Anne Berkely, I can stop worrying. That black cloud you used to carry along with you is gone, and you're out in the world, dating again."

Stan, now just as sober, simply said, "Thank you, Elizabeth. Thank you."

Then they got on with their work.

- - - - - - - - - -

When Anne arrived a few minutes later, she was greeted by a similar speech from Elaine, who came out from behind her reception desk. She looked up at Anne who this time was wearing a pair of jeans that must have been sprayed on along with a low-cut white top. Elaine practically purred, but she knew that Anne wasn't interested. That didn't stop Elaine from looking appreciatively, though.

"Anne, as part of our 'thank you', I've been asked by Susan to give you a hug. Would you mind?" she asked the older, taller blonde shyly.

Anne smiled, nodding. Elaine came to meet her and they hugged briefly. "Thank you, Anne, from both of us. What you and Stan did was really nice."

Elaine walked back behind her desk and sat down. Anne had a peculiar look on her face for a moment, then it cleared and she went on into the lab to get started on her day.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise was late arriving at The Firm that Monday. Elaine saw her, called out "Hi there, Denise! How was the holiday?" before noticing the bloodshot eyes, the fatigue around them and the set expression on her face.

Denise was not happy. Jim hadn't called, and his phone seemed to be out of charge or switched off. She couldn't believe just how stupid she'd been, giving herself to him like that. She'd told herself he'd call after all, but when she began to accept that he wouldn't she'd thrown things at the wall in anger. Now she was just depressed, and severe lack of sleep hadn't made things any better.

Denise mustered a "Hello, Elaine. Yes the holiday was great, but I'm afraid I've been let down since. I'll talk to you later, Laney," and moped on past towards the IT group office.

Elaine thought for a moment, picked up the phone, and called Stan. Elizabeth answered, and Elaine asked if Stan was free...

- - - - - - - - - -

Elizabeth put the phone down and started to say something to Stan, when Bob called him over. With an apologetic glance to her, Stan walked the ten feet to Bob's office.

Once inside he sat down. Bob told him, "You remember we spoke before, about getting all the Quality Department paperwork accessible on-line? Well I've been speaking to Jon Kelly, and he says they've got some resources available and we can start to look seriously at it now. I want you to go over there and chat with him about what we want out of the system. You know, as we discussed earlier."

It had been a more and more pressing requirement for some time to get as many documents as possible available on-line to the internal network. The Firm was well behind in this respect. Jon Kelly was the IT manager and he'd been 'waiting for available resources' for quite some time. Now, at last, it seemed he'd decided he could spare the effort. Stan said he'd go straight over, and he bustled out of Bob's office. He saw Elizabeth motioning to him, but said, "Later, Elizabeth!" and hustled towards the IT group.

On his way over, Stan thought about Denise. He hoped he'd be working with her, he could ask about the holiday she'd had. A small part of him that he was slightly ashamed of wondered about the man she'd been talking about, as well.

He reached the IT group office and saw Denise in with Jon. Jon looked concerned, but Stan couldn't see Denise's face. He knocked on the door and was called in, and then he saw Denise.

He was shocked. Denise looked completely different from the happy person who'd been going on holiday only two weeks ago. She looked tired out, her eyes were bloodshot and she'd obviously been crying.

"Oh, God, Denise! Whatever's the matter?" he asked her, with compassion in his voice.

"I-I'm okay. I'll talk to you later, Stan. Er..." Denise stammered out, obviously unsure what was going on.

"Stan, I'm sorry, but could you excuse us a minute again? I still need to talk to Denise," Jon told Stan, and no sooner had he been invited into the office than he'd been asked to leave. Stan went, a bit perplexed.

He went to Paul, one of the other guys in the group, and they got chatting. Paul was a talented artist; he mainly worked in 3D computer art but Stan had seen a couple of his freehand pencil sketches as well. After a suitable time talking about the weekend and their various problems, Stan asked, "Paul, do you know what's the problem with Denise?"

"Not really, Stan. She came in late this morning, looking like her puppy had just died. She wouldn't talk to anyone; she just sat at her desk looking like she wanted to burst into tears. Jon called her in the office, and they've been talking ever since."

Just then, Jon poked his head through his office doorway and asked, "Stan, can you come in now?"

Stan went. He sat down next to Denise, who seemed to have recovered her composure, although she still looked upset.

"Okay," said Jon, closing the door. "I have an opportunity for the two of you, but I also know that I have a problem. Stan, Denise has just come back from her holiday and has been upset by someone she met there. She'll need your help and support. Denise, you have a job to do, I hope you'll be able to be professional and not let your private life affect your work. Can I count on you both?" Stan said, "Yes, Jon," while Denise merely nodded.

"Right then. You know the document access project that Stan's been after for a while, Denise? Well, you came to the end of that project you were on before your vacation, and Stan's now free as well. I want you two to work together on this one." He turned to Stan. "Stan, you know what you want and how you need it presented."

Jon then looked at Denise. "Denise, you will handle the technical aspects. It shouldn't take you too long. You'll need to be aware of the potential load on our server, remember."

Jon dismissed them with a hopeful little smile and a sigh, "Okay, off you both go, now."

Jon was never great at briefings, Stan remembered. This one was no exception. Up the pair of them got; as they left the office Stan managed to get Denise's attention and mouthed, "Coffee?" She nodded back to him, and so off they went.

They got their coffee and sat at one of the tables. Stan, as so often, didn't really know what to say, so they sat in silence for quite a while. Eventually he managed to say in a gentle voice, "What happened then, Denise? You sounded happy enough on Friday."

"No I wasn't!" Denise told him, her voice rising. "I was waiting and waiting for that bastard Jim to ring me, and he never did. I tried to ring him but his mobile's switched off. He used me and dumped me without a second thought, and I let him. If I ever saw him again, I'd kill the fucker!"

Denise was angry... very, very angry now. Stan could see she needed to vent. He was taken aback by her vehemence though, and sat back to think for a minute before he said any more.

"All right then. How about you telling me what happened, and we'll see what can be done," said Stan, groping for a way forward.

"What's to tell? I gave myself to him; he dumped me; end of story!"

"Do you want to get in touch with him again, Denise? Or perhaps... not now?" Stan asked.

"Oh, if I could only..." began Denise, before her voice trailed off. She was thoughtful for a moment, before saying, "I really don't know, y'know? On Friday that's all I could think of, talking to him again, seeing him again. Now? I don't know." She stopped speaking and turned away from Stan. After a moment he saw her shoulders begin to shake.

He went around and knelt on one knee beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder as he did. He looked up at her, but Denise turned her face away again. Stan had seen the tracks of her tears, he could feel her shaking, but he didn't know how to comfort the young woman crying in his embrace.

So he did the only thing he could: he held her, stroking her shoulder and back, and let her cry. It was only afterwards that he remembered he'd been softly whispering, "It's okay, it's okay, let it out, it's okay," virtually the whole time. But eventually Denise drew away from him, still shuddering a little but with a smile precariously in place.

"Thank you Stan, I needed that hug. Thanks," she unsteadily told him.

"Anytime, Denise, anytime. I'll always be here for you. You know I'll always be here for you." The words spilled out of Stan, he wasn't even truly aware of what he'd said.

Just then Stan realized someone was behind him in the canteen. He turned to look, and saw that it was Anne. She had a very serious look on her face!

"Stan?" she asked, "What are you doing with Denise?"

Stan stood, feeling slightly guilty. It must have shown in his face, because Anne's face and posture returned to it's more customary forbidding nature. Stan's instinctive "It's not what you think..." didn't make matters any better. Fortunately for them both Stan went on, "Denise has had guy trouble, and needed a hug from a friend. That's all."

Slightly mollified, Anne was nevertheless unhappy. "I heard what you told Denise, Stan. 'Friend', is it? Is that all?"

Denise was watching, taking this all in.

Stan was caught between the two women. He didn't want to leave Denise, but on the other hand he had to make Anne understand. He replied to her, "Yes, of course Anne. Denise is my best friend. She's the one who pulled me out of my dark time. You know that. You can't be jealous over this, surely?"

Anne shook her head, and then paused for thought for a while. Eventually she relaxed a little, then a lot and came to Stan, pulling him into her arms and kissing him soundly.

Denise saw this and shrank into herself. Stan didn't notice at all, but Anne saw when she opened her eyes and pulled back a little.

"Denise?" she said.

Denise looked up at Stan, with anger again on her face. "You bastard! I thought you said you weren't ready for a girlfriend!"



Equal Shares Ch. 20



Stan looked at Denise, totally bereft of ideas for what to say.

Denise was right. He had said that, emphasised it even. He could see that from her point of view he'd been completely dishonest and hurtful. What had happened with Anne had been incredible, but it had all happened while Denise was away, and no-one had let her know – she'd found out the hard way.

Stan hated that he'd hurt her. So he tried to tell her that.

Before he could finish, Anne interrupted.

"Denise, it's not Stan's fault. It's mine. Blame me, not him. I practically raped him." Stan himself was trying to interrupt back, but Anne wouldn't let him, continuing, "You laid the groundwork, for which I will always be grateful. I took advantage of that, unknowingly, but I did. It was you that brought Stan out of his depression, as he's just said, it was you that got him able to think about another woman at all, and I believe it was probably you that put dance classes in his mind, though I don't remember him telling me that. Am I right?"

Stan nodded, while Denise, still angry, jerkily nodded once. Anne went on,

"Well, you brought him out of his shell with a vengeance. It's the timing that you got wrong. I've heard of what happened; Stan telling you he wasn't ready to be more than 'just friends', you suggesting the dance classes and then jetting off on holiday soon after. I owe you an enormous debt, Denise, one that I don't know if I can ever repay. By doing that you've helped me get over something horrible that happened when I was much younger, by an indirect route. So please, if you must be angry, please take it out on me, not Stan. He doesn't deserve it."

If Anne wanted Denise to be angry with her, Denise was sure she could oblige. On the other hand, she not only had to work with Stan professionally, but also she didn't want to hurt him – and it was obvious that if Denise fought with Anne, even verbally, it would inevitably do just that. It only took Denise one look at Stan's face to confirm that. He looked horribly conflicted, not knowing which way to go, but then Denise saw him make his decision, and her heart lurched when she saw what it was – when he moved to Anne, put his arms around her, and hugged her. At that moment Denise knew she'd lost and the best she could do was retire from the field with as much grace as she could muster.

She gathered herself, using a napkin to dab her eyes dry. She'd have to visit the Ladies room and redo her makeup, she knew. It took a heroic effort, but Denise managed to stand, go up to Anne and give her a hug, telling the taller woman, "Thank you for saying that, Anne. I hope you'll be happy." Denise looked at Stan and for a moment she almost lost it again, but she didn't, she held on. "Both of you, be happy!" – and then she walked away, out of the canteen, with dignity mostly intact.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise went straight to the Ladies, ran some water from a tap and washed her face. She looked at herself in the mirror, and suddenly started bawling. Denise simply couldn't help herself, she cried, she sobbed, she whimpered and then she started over again.

It was Elizabeth that found her. After the telephone warning from Elaine that she'd tried to pass on to Stan, she'd felt a little helpless and she was worried and a little embarrassed to find the younger woman in the toilets sobbing her heart out. Elizabeth felt so sorry for the redhead, she put her arms around her and cuddled her, unconsciously mimicking Stan's effort from earlier, murmuring "There, there," and other soothing sounds, stroking her hair, generally just providing a comforting touch. Denise turned and hugged the older woman fiercely, crying onto her shoulder, then, eventually, drawing back.

She looked the question into Denise's eyes once the girl could make eye contact. Denise croaked out "Anne!" and the tears flowed once more. It wasn't until several minutes later that Denise was able to draw a sobbing, stuttering breath and pulled away once more. Elizabeth wet a paper towel from a tap and began gently wiping Denise's face. Denise leant backwards against the sink and let Elizabeth look after her.

Before long, Elizabeth's practised hands had soothed and repaired as much as possible without cosmetics. Denise was feeling a little better now as well, and felt more capable of coherent speech.

"Stan and Anne. You must know about them, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth regarded her compassionately, thoughtfully. "Yes, Denise. Stan and Anne are together, I'm afraid. You fell for him after all, didn't you? Poor love, you tried not to, but you did anyway." She once more took Denise into her arms and hugged her. "It wasn't Stan's fault, you know. I know he was attracted to Anne, but he was attracted to you, too. It was just that the time was wrong."

Denise still looked sad and shaky, but she bravely held up her head. "I wished them both happiness, Elizabeth, and I meant it," she said, more firmly, then in a softer voice she went on, "I just wish I could find happiness too. Did you hear about my own sad love-life?"

"No, dear. Have you time for coffee before we get our noses back to the grindstone?" Elizabeth answered the younger woman. Denise was clearly still very unhappy, and Elizabeth's heart went out to her.

Denise gathered herself. The thought of putting off another meeting with Stan was actually quite attractive, but ultimately she'd have to get on with it.

"I've got to get on with some work, Elizabeth." She choked a little on an attempted chuckle, and went on, "I'm working on a project. With Stan! How's that for irony?"

Elizabeth was surprised, but attempted to soothe Denise.

"Come along then Denise. You know Stan won't be trying to hurt you. You can do this. Let's get together at lunchtime and you can tell me all about your disastrous love life, and I can commiserate and tut-tut and act all scandalised. How's that?"

With a shaky grin, Denise answered, "O-okay then, Elizabeth, you're on. You can tell me what I'm doing wrong!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan returned to his desk since Denise was missing, and began taking care of routine work.

After reapplying some makeup, Denise left the Ladies room and walked around to the Quality area, followed by Elizabeth. She walked up to Stan's desk and sat in his visitor's chair. She smiled, a little wanly, at Stan, and told him, "I think we'd better make a start on this project, Stan, don't you?" Stan also slapped on his professional mien and they began work.

At first it was a little awkward, despite their best intentions. Denise couldn't get the image of Stan and Anne in each other's arms out of her head and Stan had to repeat himself a few times. On the other hand, Stan kept thinking that he'd hurt Denise, and was trying to think of a way around it, or a way to solve it, instead of concentrating. They made slow and superficial progress.

Not soon enough, lunchtime came. Denise excused herself and she and Elizabeth went straight to lunch. Stan would follow later, with Anne.

- - - - - - - - - -

Over a light lunch for both ladies, Denise explained to Elizabeth what had happened during her holiday on Ibiza. She told Elizabeth almost everything – almost. Denise left out the part about being attracted to the other girls, although Elizabeth knew Denise well enough to guess that.

Denise also left out the first night's absent condom. It wasn't something she felt anyone need know, and she'd felt no ill effects and was on birth control, so no harm, no foul. Besides, there was plenty else to talk about.

"I was so angry with Jim. Somehow though, coming here and seeing Stan and Anne has leached the force out of it."

"It sounds to me like you simply didn't communicate. Basically, I'm sorry to say this Denise, but you got Jim wrong. I think he was just wanting some holiday fun, not something long-term."

"Do you think so too, Elizabeth? That's what I decided, but I think he led me on to believe it was going to be more in order to get his sex education lessons. I had to teach the little bugger almost everything!"

Elizabeth smiled, thinking back a long, long time ago. She shook her head, saw Denise's quizzical expression and merely answered "Old boyfriend. Not important." Before sobering and telling Denise, "Well, we'll need to get you a new boyfriend then won't we?"

"Oh, I think I've got that particular itch scratched for the time being, Elizabeth. I can wait," Denise told her.

Elizabeth replied, "Are you sure about that?" and for the first time that day, Denise shared a genuine smile and a giggle.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan and Anne ate their lunch in a subdued mood. Stan couldn't help feeling he'd managed to hurt both Denise and Anne, though he'd tried to hurt neither. He'd had a lot of practice at brooding, and was doing it very well now.

Anne, for her part, had seen that Stan had feelings for Denise that he was suppressing. She was still coming to terms with this revelation, working out in her tidy, logical mind the implications and possible repercussions. Unfortunately, she wasn't used to dealing with her own emotions in this way. She felt muddled and hated it.

The two lovers split apart after their lunch without saying more than superficial pleasantries.

- - - - - - - - - -

During the afternoon, Stan and Denise gradually began to really work with each other. By the end of the afternoon, they had a reasonably clear idea of what they would be doing and roughly what it would look like. Stan was pleased, although he'd had to concede some of his "wish-list" as being too ambitious to implement at the moment. Denise was pleased because she now had a good idea of Stan's requirements and had developed a way of achieving them.

Denise was still mad with Stan, and especially with Anne, but she conceded that it was largely no-one's fault. Denise, being a red-head with all that implied, wasn't giving up her anger that easily, though. So she was professional, but distant. She didn't have to work with Anne and that was good because she really didn't want any more to do with the woman who, as far as Denise was concerned, had stolen Stan from her.

Stan could sense Denise's hostility lying just beneath the surface, but admired her professionalism nonetheless. As the afternoon wore on they seemed to be finding it easier just being with each other. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

The end of the day came. Stan began tidying up the notes he'd been making while Denise packed away her own notes. She looked up at Stan and said, "Good night, Stan. Have a nice one, and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Stan answered semi-automatically, "Yes, you too Denise. In the morning."

Stan was relieved that Anne hadn't walked over from the lab to collect him. Another chance to rub Denise's nose in the fact of his relationship with Anne wouldn't have helped matters in the least.

He finished packing up, said "Good Night" to Bob and then groaned as he stood up. Sitting at a desk all afternoon had allowed his aching muscles to stiffen again. He stretched a few times, trying to loosen up, then walked out through the door into reception.

There he found Elaine and Anne in spirited conversation about the merits and demerits of various cosmetics. Stan listened in at first, but in truth he wasn't really interested. Both girls wore very different looks but neither used a lot of makeup. Anne didn't really have to, just enough to accentuate the positive. Elaine simply chose not to. 'It's a shame Elaine's out-of-bounds, she's gorgeous' Stan thought, then caught himself – really, with Anne standing next to him even!

Feeling a little guilty, Stan put his right arm around Anne, who took it and squeezed it. Elaine grinned at the pair.

Just then Denise walked through. She saw Stan with his arm around the tall blonde, and her face fell. She looked daggers at Anne for a moment, looked away from them both with a huff and stalked out.

Stan began to move after her, but stopped himself. Anne was close enough to him to feel the almost-movement and turned to look at him. "Not yet, Stan. We've all got things to work through before we can mend fences.

"Anyway, we have to be leaving. See you Elaine! Come on, Stan, we have to work out our own plans for the evening, starting with where we're eating!"

They left hand-in-hand, but then had to split. There were two car parks, and each had unthinkingly used their normal one at the opposite ends of the building. They turned to each other and grinned in unison. Then they kissed, separated and each went to their own car.

Only on getting into his Mondeo did Stan realize he didn't know if Anne was coming to him, or he was going to her. He picked up his cellphone to ring her and was surprised when it went off in his hand. He flipped it open and saw Anne was ringing him.

"Your place or mine?" she asked him in a terribly over-acted femme fatale voice.

"Why, Natasha, I'll come to you, of course!" Stan replied in an equally fake voice. The pair laughed, and then hung up.

Stan went home first, showered, shaved and changed. He drove over to Anne's house and arrived in a remarkably short space of time, wearing his dancing kit.

He rang the doorbell and waited. There was no reply at first, so he rang again, this time he could hear a faint "Wait a minute!" from inside. Finally the door opened.

"Hi, Stan, you didn't take long. Eager to see me?" she asked him as she opened the door to let him in. Stan grinned unrepentantly as he entered. Anne had showered and was wearing a housecoat, her hair still covered in a towel.

"So, what're we having?" he asked her, as he reached for her, but Anne swayed out of the way.

"We haven't time for that. I still have to get changed! I picked up something from the Supermarket on the way home to re-heat. We need to eat quickly to be in time to visit Yves and Belinda."

- - - - - - - - - -

At the old school, it was Belinda who greeted the pair.

"Ah, Stan, Anne, lovely to see you! Both of you are well I hope?"

Stan answered, "Hello again, Belinda. I'm fine, thank you, apart from some aches caused by too much bike riding..." As he finished, he looked sidelong at Anne, who laughed, a strand of the blonde hair piled up on her head coming loose. She wore a long, flowing white halter-neck dress, with an almost non-existent back, slit up the left side to well above the knee. It was decorated in gold wavy patterns. Stan thought she looked like an exotic priestess. He was still wearing the same suit as before.

"I persuaded Stan to get himself a pushbike and get some more exercise. We may have overdone it for the first day!"

Belinda laughed gaily. "Well, Stan, I trust you'll be able to move properly once you get a lady in your arms. We don't want you stumbling and falling onto the floor, pulling your partner down with you, do we?" She ended with a challenging arch to her eyebrow. Stan had an idea he was in for a session dancing with the tall teacher.

As it happened, Stan was partnered with Belinda and Yves took Anne for the start of their second Quickstep lesson. After a while though, they broke the pairings and set Anne dancing with Stan.

Anne found it easy, moving with grace and elegance, but Stan still had to concentrate hard to maintain the steps. It was only the second lesson in this particular dance, after all. But after a few minutes that feeling of confidence came back to him and he was able to relax into it, and enjoy the feeling of dancing with Anne.

After the break, Belinda asked if Stan minded dancing with Pamela, while Anne was asked to switch to Tom, who it seemed almost had his tongue out, salivating at the thought of dancing with the blonde. Stan glanced at Anne, who seemed momentarily unsure. But then she clearly made her mind up about something. Stan made note to ask, later. Anne moved into Tom's arms, and the two moved off. Tom looked more than a little pleased!

Stan shook himself and took Pamela's arms. The young chestnut haired lady flowed close into him, whispered, "Thank you Stan. He was trying it on again." And then they took the required stance and began dancing properly.

Stan found himself relaxing into the movement again, but unable to relax about seeing Anne with Tom. Tom wasn't obvious about it, but he was clearly enjoying getting close to Anne. Stan shook his head and concentrated on his dance with Pamela, finding that the young woman was, once again, delightful to dance with.

During a break in the music, while Yves was explaining a point to one of the class, she leaned into him once again and whispered, "Don't worry too much, Stan. Tom's an octopus, but I get the feeling Anne will take care of him, and he can't go too far or Yves and Belinda will take action."

There followed one incident that evening, when Anne accidentally trod on Tom's foot. She apologised immediately, of course, and the two resumed dancing, but Stan caught a gleam in her eye for a moment when she turned to him a moment later.

It was on the way home that night that Stan asked about the hesitation he'd noted earlier.

"When Belinda asked if you minded dancing with Tom, you hesitated a moment. Was that because you didn't want to be broken away from me?"

"No. Well, yes, of course, but no, that wasn't the only reason. For a moment there I didn't want you dancing with someone else. Particularly with someone as young and pretty as Pamela! But then I reasoned that Pamela's no threat, that you and I are what matters. Also I remembered what we talked about earlier, about trust? So I decided to trust in my boyfriend."

Stan, driving, glanced across at Anne. She was sitting in the passenger seat, slightly stiff, her face serious.

"It was harder than I'd expected, Stan. Dancing is such an intimate activity. You and Pamela dance well together. But I saw you watching out for me, that helped, and I felt you trusting in me, too, which helped more.

"Then that asshole Tom tried to put his hand where it wasn't wanted. I hope his foot wasn't hurt too much!"

The pair shared a laugh at the tension easing remark, and enjoyed the rest of the journey home.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later, Stan had his arms around Anne as they lay in her bed. He was wondering how to bring up the subject of Denise.

"Anne, what are we going to do about Denise?" he asked, tentatively.

"Um?" said Anne, who'd been dozing off, almost asleep.

"Denise. She's hurting, and we're a large part of the cause. Not our fault, but Denise got caught when we fell for each other. Now she's barely able to talk to me, and if looks could kill you'd have been badly injured tonight in reception. I don't like leaving things this way."

Anne pulled herself out of the fog of near-sleep. She could tell Stan was serious, and needed her help.

"It's been a long time since anything like this happened to me. But when I was a schoolgirl, all the other girls had bigger breasts than I did. I had boys essentially stolen from me, often. It was upsetting, and what made it worse was that I had no-one to turn to. What Denise needs is someone to talk to, to rant at, to cry on."

"But who? Can't be you or me, obviously!"

"The obvious ones would be Elizabeth or Elaine," Anne said, sleepily.

"I'd think Elaine, but on the other hand Elizabeth's had the experience – she handled me pretty well."

"We can decide in the morning Stan. For now, try to get some sleep. You've got to get up early to go home and change, remember."

- - - - - - - - - -

In point of fact, Denise had made their choice for them. Earlier that evening, she'd been on the phone to Elizabeth.

"God I feel so helpless. I feel like I ought to hate Stan, and despise Anne, but... I don't, not really. I am very angry. But I have to work with Stan on this project, and... I still feel for him, you know?"




Equal Shares Ch. 20



"Mmmm. Yes, I know you do, Denise," Elizabeth answered her, soothingly.

"I can't talk to Elaine about this, Elizabeth. I'm sorry to have to trouble you with all of this, but..."

"But?"

"Laney and I have this history. I can't keep running back to her every time I hit a bump in my relationships. She's got her own relationship to take care of. Lord knows I'm tempted, but I can't do that. Apart from anything else, I think she'd resent me for trying."

"I'm not so sure about that – Elaine is a true friend. She's listened to me with a sympathetic ear before." This was entirely news to Denise. For a moment she forgot her own troubles, what possible problems could Elizabeth have had?

Elizabeth continued, "Not that I mind at all, of course. I understand your need to talk; I also understand why you feel you can't ring Elaine. Of course, you can't talk to Stan or Anne about it. Yet. You'll have to, sooner or later, to clear things up between you. Otherwise it'll always be there, and you and he in particular have had a friendship that began a lot earlier than May."

"I'm not sure I can do that." Denise was sure. She couldn't.

"Not now, perhaps," Elizabeth replied, smoothly. "But you will."

"Maybe," Denise said in a doubtful tone, "but not for a while. I'll just have to try and keep professional, and keep emotions out of it for now."

"Just don't do a Stan on me, and withdraw and get morose. I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime. Promise?"

"I promise, Elizabeth. Just as long as I have you to cry to, it'll be fine. Good night, Elizabeth."

"'Night, Denise. Sleep well. I – I'll see you in the morning."

They hung up. Denise was sure Elizabeth had hesitated, but put it out of her mind and got ready for bed.



Equal Shares Ch. 21



The following morning, the first into work at The Firm was, as usual, Elizabeth. An unusual visitor interrupted her normal routine of coffee, skimming the newspaper while checking some overnight testing and watering Bob's plants. Well, unusual at that time of the morning, anyway.

"Good morning, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth turned to see Denise standing in Bob's office doorway.

"Oh! You startled me!" She looked tired but functional, Elizabeth decided, after studying the young woman for a moment. "What brings you in here half an hour early?"

"Oh, I need to get some notes down before I start with Stan today, plus I've got a couple of routine jobs to do – you know, the sort of stuff that doesn't go away just because you've been given a 'hot job' to do. So I thought I'd get in here and have my early coffee while doing them."

"Okay. What brings you in here, though? I'm glad to see you of course, but shouldn't you be at your desk?"

"Well, yes. I just thought I'd come and see you. If I'm disturbing you..." Denise turned to go, clearly hurt.

"Denise, wait! Stop a moment. We can have our coffee together, here, before the others all turn up, then you can go get on with whatever you needed to do. I'm sorry, I – I just need to say something, and it's hard to say."

"Hmm? What?" asked Denise, now soothed a little and more than a little intrigued.

"It'll wait until you've got your coffee, Denise."

While Denise went to get her coffee, Elizabeth finished with Bob's plants and sat down, after wheeling Stan's visitor's chair around to her side of the desks. Elizabeth pointed to the chair when Denise came back.

"Now, what did you want to say?" asked Denise, who'd become concerned.

"Well. I don't really know how to say this, so I'm going to say it bang. It's about Stan and Anne."

Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry the way things worked out, I feel a bit responsible. You see, I did notice something between them before you went away. I'll always be sorry for not telling you. I don't believe it would have stopped Anne and Stan getting together like that, but it might have prepared you for it. So, sorry, Denise, I hope you didn't get hurt just because of me."

Denise's lower lip was trembling slightly, but she held herself rigid, fighting to remain in control.

"What did you notice, Elizabeth?" she asked her, tightly.

'Oh dear,' thought Elizabeth. Aloud, she said, "I actually teased him a little about it. He watched her, Denise, in a way he didn't watch others. He did it more and more the last few weeks. I don't believe he knew what was happening himself."

"What about her?" asked Denise. Her voice had taken on the overtones of the Inquisition.

"Anne? I don't honestly think Anne noticed anything, or if she did, she hid it exceptionally well. Stan's not so good at hiding things like that, he's never learned. He's never had to learn it. Anne might have done, but I think mainly she simply didn't notice because she felt everyone else was beneath her. Horrid to say, but I think it might be true. So when it was Stan who pulled her out of the fire, she sat up and looked around. What she noticed was Stan."

Elizabeth took another deep breath. Denise had a way about her when she was like this. She could intimidate almost anyone. But Elizabeth wasn't an easy touch, either.

"I couldn't say this on the phone last night. It wouldn't have been right. But now I've told you, so I need to tell you just one more thing. Take control of your life, Denise. Set yourself a goal and reach for it. It doesn't have to be a permanent thing; you can decide to concentrate on professional life for the moment if you want.

"But you mustn't go around being angry with Stan or Anne for finding each other. As I told my daughter Kelly a while back, you are responsible for your own life. Don't expect others to make you happy if you're not even trying for yourself. Even if things go wrong, feeling sorry won't help you, doing something about it will."

Elizabeth's expression, which had become commanding, softened and she became once again the motherly, friendly person that people usually saw.

"Now, when I said that to Kelly, I gave her a hug afterwards. It's purely optional, of course!"

Denise's face, which had flushed a dark red, cleared and she leaned forward in her chair to wrap the older woman in her arms.

"Thanks, Elizabeth, I suppose I needed to hear that. Um. I, er, I'd better be off, I think. We've got work to do, and I want to be alone for a bit before I see Stan this morning, or Anne, for that matter."

"Of course, hun, I understand. I'll see you later – lunch?"

Denise flashed her a brief smile, nodding before turning away and walking on to her own section.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan was a couple of minutes late that morning. He'd had to get up and go home first, which had delayed him – notoriously bad starter as he was. Once again, neither had actually brought an overnight bag with a change of clothes, so he'd muttered, groaned and grouched his way to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and got dressed before getting into his Mondeo and driving home to shower and change before work.

All of this, after another morning when he had trouble getting out of bed – trouble caused by Anne simply being there with him. His look of longing, only slightly exaggerated, didn't stop her from telling him to "Get out of bed you randy goat! You've got work to go to!" She softened the order with a brilliant smile, but a command it was, regardless. He managed to make up some time, but still didn't quite make it.

Elaine greeted him cheerily, so he assumed that those two had settled things. He was going to ask her if she minded getting Denise to talk to her and be the shoulder Denise could use for comfort, when he thought better of it. Elaine and Susan were having a rough time, it wouldn't be right. 'Ask Elizabeth first,' he thought.

He arrived in his office to see Bob grinning at him. Yes, it was Stan's turn to be late. He knew that Bob didn't mind, provided the work got done.

Stan completed his normal morning checklist while he greeted Elizabeth.

"Good morning Elizabeth, how're you today?"

"Well, I don't think I've had as good a morning as you by the sound of it! I'm fine, Stan, thank you."

After Stan had completed his morning rush jobs, Elizabeth leaned across the desk a little and said quietly, "Denise phoned me last night."

Stan's ears perked up. He indicated interest.

"She's angry with you, Stan, and of course feels resentful of Anne as well. But she's working through it. You know she felt a lot for you, I'd guess it was actually more than just a case of liking a lot. She'd fallen for you, and although it was no fault of your own, she resents the timing. You couldn't feel for anyone, you said – but only two weeks later you're tumbling into an intense relationship with Anne."

Stan held his head in his hands for a moment. He looked up, and Elizabeth could see pain etched on his expression.

"Oh, God. I never wanted to hurt anyone. You know that, Elizabeth. With Anne, I... I just don't understand what happened. I just fell. I think Anne feels the same sense of, of bewilderment that I do."

"Yes, I believe you. Anyway, she and I had a good chat, last night and again this morning, early. I think she'll stop giving you the cold shoulder, now, and hopefully that will extend to Anne. No promises, mind, but I tried." Elizabeth didn't think it was right to discuss the whole conversation, which was between her and Denise.

"Thanks, Elizabeth. I just hope it worked!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise was at her desk, nominally running over some notes from yesterday. In reality she was considering her conversations with Elizabeth last night and this morning. She had some serious thinking to do.

She had a variety of emotions running through her, from anger to love, from frustration to satisfaction and others besides. She trusted Elizabeth, the older lady's warm heart and solid good sense born out of experience brought that out in her. 'So, okay, I trust Elizabeth,' she thought. Now what?

'If I trust Elizabeth, and she tells me I have to work for my own happiness and stop feeling sorry for myself, then that's what I should do.'

'What would make me happy? I don't really know at the moment. That's what I've got to work out.'

In any event, she got no further before it was time to meet Stan and get on with their project.

- - - - - - - - - -

For the rest of the day Denise worked together with Stan. After today, Denise knew, their collaboration would change in nature. She would take over and begin coding up, building the databases and only conferring with Stan when something was revealed to need more definition, or was shown to be unworkable.

Denise thought there wouldn't be much redevelopment of the project needed. Despite their differences the two had worked well together, and the design was 'clean'. It would be a lot of work, but should need little more in the way of redefinition. There were bound to be some problems, though, and the two would still work together every day until it was complete.

Even then, it had to be rolled out to the whole company, and the staff would need training. That would require both of them, as inevitably there would be extra features requested, and they'd both need to decide on which features would be added, which could be added later, and which requests were unlikely to be fulfilled. Denise expected she'd be working directly with Stan, off and on, for at least another six weeks.

But for now they were together in the Meeting Room, huddled over notes and diagrams. Denise's red hair glinted in the overhead light, and she noticed that Stan's attention had been drawn away from the work to her head. She'd dressed to avoid rather than encourage attention today though, with her high-necked blouse buttoned to the top and a pair of loose, comfortable trousers that hid rather than displayed her figure. He hid his momentary distraction by asking a question, then the two got back to work.

- - - - - - - - - -

Throughout the rest of the week at work, Denise and Stan continued to work together, Stan now passing the project over to Denise for her to work on. While the two were concentrating on professional matters, they were able to get along without undue friction, but if Stan mentioned Anne he noticed a distinct drop in temperature.

On Friday afternoon, just as they were leaving at the end of the day, Stan said, "See you Tuesday then, Denise."

"Oh, yes! I'd forgotten it was a Bank Holiday weekend. You doing anything over the break?

"Anne and I are going to visit an old friend of hers. A lecturer at her university, I think she said." The words were out of his mouth before he could recall them.

Once again, Denise's expression closed up, the dark clouds appearing again. Stan wondered if there was anything he could say to alleviate the evident problem.

Eventually Denise replied, flatly, "Well. Have a good weekend, then Stan. I'll be on my own, with a book in my garden, or something. But you and Anne have a good time."

She turned and stalked off. 'No, things still aren't fixed between us,' reflected Stan sadly.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne drove Stan over to meet her old lecturer and mentor. He lived in a comfortable old 1930s style house, with a well-manicured lawn, colourful flowerbeds and an old Land Rover on the driveway.

Anne rang the doorbell, and when it opened Stan saw a woman in her forties, with rich dark chocolate brown hair, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She saw Anne and smiled brightly, exclaiming, "Anne! It's lovely to see you, my dear. Come in, come in!"

Anne said, "Margaret, it's great to see you too!" The two ladies air-kissed, then Anne stood back and, a little shyly, introduced Stan.

"Margaret, I'd like you to meet Stan. Stan, Margaret. Maggie, you know what happened to me with Daniel, well, Stan's the first guy I've been able to trust since then. He's wonderful!"

Turning to Stan, Anne continued, "Maggie and Sid got married while I was at Imperial College, and Sid was one of my lecturers."

Maggie invited them in, and they were ushered into the living room.

"Sid'll be down in a minute," Margaret told the pair. "I'll get some tea."

"Actually, I'm here now!" came a voice from the opposite door.

It came from a man of medium height, bald, but bouncing with energy. He spoke with a slight accent that Stan couldn't quite place, but there was no doubt as to the clarity of the voice itself.

Anne stood to greet the older man, and Stan did so as well. Jim kissed Anne lightly on the cheek, saying "Anne! You look wonderful. It's been, what, nearly five years since we last saw each other?"

He turned to Stan and shook hands, saying, "Dr. Sydney James Thoroughgood at your service."

"Stan Hinch, at yours. Do you prefer Sid or Sydney?"

"Oh, Sid's fine. Sydney is so formal. So you're the one who's swept our Anne off her feet, then!"

Stan grinned. "Yes, I'm the one. Mind you, Anne's done at least as good a job on me. I can't believe my luck!"

"Well, sit down, both of you. Maggie'll get some tea, and we can all catch up, and get to know each other."

Stan and Anne spent an enjoyable afternoon and early evening at the Thoroughgood's. Sydney and Margaret proved to be congenial hosts. Stan was made to feel as welcome as Anne, despite the ties that Sydney, Margaret and Anne obviously had.

At one point Anne asked Sydney, "What are you up to now, then, Sid?"

"Ah. Can't talk about that, much. I might, just might, have an interesting little adventure soon."

"You can't leave me hanging like that, Sid!" exclaimed Anne, but Sydney refused to say more.

"Sorry, Anne, I can't tell you anything. Yet. If things work out, you'll know soon enough." He refused to be budged from that, and Anne changed the subject.

- - - - - - - - - -

On Tuesday morning, everyone came back to work, mostly commenting that the extra day simply wasn't enough. Stan said to Denise, "It seems to be a universal truth that no holiday is long enough!"

"Well, it's all right for some, I guess. Though actually, I did enjoy yesterday. I just pottered about, read some, listened to some music, and generally chilled out. I feel better today than I did Friday, anyway."

"What did you read, and listen to?"

"Oh, I settled into an old romance – Mistral's Daughter. It's by Judith Krantz."

"Oh, I know the one. The painter and his women. I won't spoil it..."

"You'd better not!" Denise cried, and lightly punched his arm. "I'm about halfway through, and if you say any more I'll really hit you!"

Nothing more was said for a while.

"Music?" Stan prompted, after a few minutes. Denise was skimming through her notes, looking for the cause of an anomaly they'd found.

"Just whatever was on the radio, Stan. Nothing in particular."

"Ah. Okay. Now, about this..." and they settled back to work.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was now Wednesday evening, and Denise was bored. She didn't want to go out alone and she couldn't very well ring Elaine to see if she wanted a drink – there were still problems enough between Susan and the young receptionist, Denise knew.

What Denise still wanted was a new man in her life, but none of the ones she knew measured up. The only two people, Elaine and Stan, who she could have been close to were both involved in new relationships themselves. Denise realized that she was not only bored but she was lonely. Given that she'd only come back from Ibiza a short time ago, she thought this was odd, but as she thought about her feelings she knew that she was right.

Denise read a bit more of her book, but couldn't really settle. She turned her television on and watched a couple of soap operas, complaining out loud all the time about the poor, obvious plot, while secretly enjoying them. But after an hour, she turned the sound down, picked up the phone, and called Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth? It's Denise."

"Hi, Denise. What can I do for you? Is anything wrong?"

"Only that I'm bored, lonely and sitting here watching bad television and reading romance novels, Elizabeth. There's something wrong, here!"

Denise heard Elizabeth chuckle down the line.

"Isn't it a little early to be feeling lonely, Denise? You only came back from holiday a little while ago."

"Well, yes. But I've thought about it, trying to work out how I feel. 'Lonely' just fits the bill better than anything else."

"Denise, Denise. Give yourself a chance, my dear. You really shouldn't be so down. I'd have thought you ought to be still getting over your holiday, not pining for lack of gentleman suitors!"

It was Denise's turn to grin. Elizabeth couldn't hear that, of course.

"Denise? Are you all right?"

"Oh, sorry Elizabeth. Yes, of course. I was smiling to myself at what you said."

"Oh. Well, that's good news, anyway, your sense of humour has returned! You've been like a bear this week, Denise."

There was a pause in the conversation for a moment. Then, Elizabeth thought of something.

"Denise, you ought to go with Stan and Anne to their dance lessons. You used to go, didn't you, once? You enjoyed it when you went?"

"Yes, that's where I met Raoul," Denise answered, in a flat voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. But I'm not sure it's a good idea, you know, going with Stan and Anne might feel awkward. Not to mention if Raoul is still going there."

"Stan hasn't mentioned him to me. I would have thought he would have said. No?" Elizabeth replied.

"Nothing to me either. I'll think about it, Elizabeth. Maybe I can ask if Raoul is there, and if not, I can see if they'd mind me tagging along. Dancing is a good way to get out and meet people, I know. Provided it's the right 'people'. I never finished the beginner's course there; it would be good to at least do that. Like I said, I'll think about it."

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll speak to you tomorrow. Bye!"

- - - - - - - - - -

It was now a week since Stan had effectively 'passed over' the project to Denise. Of course, that didn't mean that he didn't still have to work with her on it. They met to discuss the project once again Thursday morning. During a lull, when neither of them had anything particular to say, Denise asked, "Stan, does Raoul still go to the dance classes?"

"Not to the beginner ones that Anne and I go to, no. Why?"

Denise wanted to ask, but couldn't. Not just then. She had the feeling of being out of control, that her emotions were rushing along and carrying her. So she clamped down on them and merely answered, "Oh, no reason, just curious. You hadn't mentioned him either way and I just wondered, that's all."

They got back to their work.

Later, while at lunch, Denise told Elizabeth, "Raoul isn't at Stan's classes. I'm still undecided about going, myself."

"I still think you should, Denise. It would do two things: rebuild your friendship with Stan and help you with your self-confidence. You're worried about meeting the right 'people,' after all."

"True. I'll think about it."

"Good, Denise. Do so!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise was a bit surprised to receive a phone call from Elizabeth that evening.

"Hi Denise. It's Elizabeth."

"Hello Elizabeth, I didn't expect you to call!"

"Well, it's only a quick phone call. I have to go and see my son Harry tonight, I told him I'd give him a hand with some decorating. I just thought of something that might improve your self-confidence.

"How do you fancy some retail therapy this weekend? I want to get a new blouse and skirt anyway. You could get some more feminine stuff – remember I suggested it once before? How about a nice skirt and a nice sexy lacy blouse? After all, you dressed up for Ibiza, what's so different about going out here. You're young and attractive, why not advertise it?"




Equal Shares Ch. 21



"I don't know, Elizabeth... Oh, all right then, let's talk about it again tomorrow and I can let you persuade me some more." Denise had a smile on her face as she finished the last sentence, one which Elizabeth could hear through the phone line.

"Sounds good. I'm not letting you off the hook now! See you tomorrow, then. Bye!"

- - - - - - - - - -

It was late Friday afternoon. Denise was in reception, chatting 'idly' to Elaine. Really she was waiting for Stan and Anne.

But she'd been worried about Elaine and Susan. She knew that Elaine was completely head-over-heels in love with the quieter woman, and that Susan's insecurities were causing problems. She wondered if there was anything she could do to help.

"Laney? How's things with you and Susan?"

"Much better, thanks!" smiled an effervescent Elaine. "Susan is doing her best not to snarl at me if I go within fifty feet of another girl, and I'm doing my best not to do anything to make her jealous."

"Oh, good, Laney. I hated it when you two were fighting."

"Well, me too, of course, Denny. We're okay at the moment, though. Just don't let Susan see you within fifty feet of me... just kidding!"

Denise smiled, but thought that there was a slight edge to that comment. Susan wouldn't ever forget that Denise was Elaine's ex, it seemed.

"It's okay, Elaine. If Susan says anything about me, just remind her that I'm not looking at all at the moment, but when I go back to hunting, it'll be for a male companion, not a female one. That's why we split in the first place!"

"Oh, Denny. I know that, you know that. Susan knows that too, but sometimes she can't help herself."

Just then Anne walked into reception, carrying an overnight bag. Stan followed her. Denise winked at Elaine and turned to the tall blonde.

"Hi Anne. Can I talk to you a moment, please?"

Anne looked puzzled.

Stan came over, but Denise said, "Just Anne, for the moment, Stan. If you don't mind, anyway?"

Stan murmured a "No, no, not at all..." and went back to the desk to talk to Elaine. Denise and Anne moved into a corner, speaking in lowered tones.

"Anne, do you mind if I come along to the dance class on Monday? I need to get out and take my mind off things. I used to enjoy the dance classes with Belinda and Yves, until Raoul came along, anyway."

"Raoul?"

"Oh, Stan hasn't told you then. My bastard of an ex. I met him there, we had a wonderful time until I found out that he was cheating on me, several times at once. I left him, obviously. Stan tells me he's not in your classes, and I really would like to come – but not if it's going to be awkward with you and Stan."

"Oh." Anne thought for a few moments. For decisions requiring mere intellect she was quick and decisive, but this involved her emotions. It took longer, and she wasn't as sure. But she knew Denise was hurt, she'd told her that she owed the redhead a debt and this was one way she could start to repay it.

"That will be fine, Denise. You're going to make your own way there?"

Anne wasn't going to unbend all the way at once, Denise saw. 

"I can do, yes. I know where it is. Thank you, Anne."

Anne called over, "Denise is going to the Dance Class on Monday, Stan. Isn't that wonderful?"

Stan answered, "Yes, of course. I'm sure Belinda and Yves will be delighted to see you again. Have you booked yet?"

Denise smiled at Stan and replied, "No, not yet, silly, I had to clear it with your boss, first!" She indicated Anne with her eyes and an incline of the head.

Stan accepted this with a blink, followed by a wry grin. Then he asked, "Do you want a lift?"

Anne answered quickly, "No, Stan, she's driving herself. Isn't that right, Denise?" Anne's tone held no room for disagreement.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne handed her bag over to Stan, who put it into his car. The two had parked next to one another that morning, on Anne's side of the car park.

Anne drove home, thinking about Denise. She wondered if she should have been more gracious, and asked Stan to offer her a lift on Monday. She thought about that, and why she hadn't, the entire short journey to her house.

Once there she showered and changed into exercise shorts and a sweatshirt. The agreement was that the pair would stop for the weekend at his house, biking into and around the town, not trying too hard. Anne and Stan had disagreed over cooking, as neither wanted to do any.

Anne didn't want to admit that she felt embarrassed by her lack of culinary expertise; she didn't feel she ought to but couldn't shake the feeling that she should be able to cook. It was as if it were something her mother had forgotten to hand down in her genes.

Stan, on the other hand, felt that as it was his house, he ought to have made an effort – but his own ability in the kitchen was basic. He could cook, yes, provided the recipe instructions were detailed enough. He just really didn't want to, and the conflict between duty and desire was a close run thing. He was about to reluctantly say that he'd rustle up some sort of stew when Anne suggested they eat out. In the end they'd compromised and would either order in or go out, but both knew that it was putting the matter off.

Anne rode over to Stan's house, putting her bike in his garage before walking in through his back door. There she found Stan in the kitchen, making coffee.

They exchanged greetings, and then Stan said "I've cleared space in the wardrobe for some of your stuff, Anne, I hope you don't mind."

"Why should I mind?" asked Anne, with a slight furrow to her brow.

"I thought you might feel it was a bit... well, presumptuous."

"No, not at all, Stan. I am staying the weekend, after all. I hope that you'll be staying at my house sometimes, too."

"Well, I'd like that of course," grinned Stan, "here's more convenient, though."

"Why?"

"Well, it's closer to The Firm and the town centre, and there's more room here."

"It's not significantly closer to either of those from here, Stan, and the extra space is irrelevant unless you plan on putting me in the spare room, is it? What you meant is it's less bother for you. That attitude needs adjustment, buster!"  

Stan knew he'd been caught out, so he threw himself on the mercy of the court. Unfortunately, Anne wasn't in a forgiving mood, since she was still worried about Denise. It was a minor argument, but it did count as their first.

Later, of course, after they'd made up in bed, Stan worried. Yes, he realized, he had taken it for granted that Anne would move in with him, eventually. Nothing about that had been said, but it was just an assumption that he'd not thought worth stating, it seemed self-evident. Anne didn't feel that, it seemed, and was quite belligerent in making her point. Did that mean she didn't want to be with him the same way as he wanted to be with her?

Meanwhile, lying next to him, Anne still wondered about Denise. The lovemaking they'd just shared had had an almost desperate nature. Oh, they'd both enjoyed it! How could she not, Stan was skilled and, more importantly, loving, but she felt that there was something, or someone, between them. Denise.

Both of them had a fitful sleep that night.



Equal Shares Ch. 22



Chapter 22 

Denise and Elizabeth were out shopping.

Elizabeth was enjoying herself. She could no longer wear the provocative outfits that she'd enjoyed as a young woman, but that didn't mean that she couldn't get a vicarious thrill out of persuading others to do so. She'd had to rein her daughter Kelly back, she'd willingly have gone too outrageous even for Elizabeth, but Denise was inclined to baulk. 

So Elizabeth was cajoling, encouraging, persuading Denise to try some flimsier, sexier tops and shorter, more revealing skirts. Denise had made the mistake of showing some holiday snaps, and Elizabeth used the ammunition well.

"Come on, Denise, go for it! That's a really nice short crop-top; you'll look sexy in that. You'll get the guys' tongues hanging out in that!"

"I'm not sure I want to make the guys' tongues hang out, Elizabeth!" retorted Denise with a chuckle, putting the top back on its hanger.

"You certainly didn't feel that way in San Antonio! Come on, try this one," the older woman coaxed, handing her a low-cut denim top. Denise actually liked that one, and put it in her basket.

- - - - - - - - - -

Shopping continued like that for the two ladies. Elizabeth bought herself a new top and some slacks, while Denise splashed out on several tops and a couple of new skirts. Both were daringly short, just long enough for her to feel comfortable but bold. A couple of belts and a handbag later, and the two were just about finished.

Denise had blushed at one point, when she'd been trying on a very short skirt and had dropped her purse. She'd bent to pick it up, and Elizabeth had called "Ahem!"

Denise had looked up, seen Elizabeth's eyes, and where she was looking and had straightened up in a hurry.

The next few minutes had been spent with Elizabeth teaching Denise how to bend, or rather crouch, while wearing a miniskirt. "It's a while since I've had to do it, Denise, but you don't easily forget!"

Then a pair of boots caught Elizabeth's eye. She nudged Denise.

"You could wear those, you know."

Denise looked. Black suede boots, with a smallish heel but a heel nevertheless, that went up, and up... all the way to the knee. What's more, they were on offer!

Denise imagined herself in her new green top with its plunging neckline, with a matching miniskirt and those boots. Could she pull that off?

"Do you really think I could do that, Elizabeth?" she asked. In truth, she wanted to hear the answer "Yes!"

"Certainly, Denise. You've got the legs for it, I wish I had thighs like yours! Don't you think they're fabulous?"

Denise did, and very soon thereafter the boots were safely purchased.

"Right, Elizabeth, now I need a dress I can wear dancing on Monday. Where shall we go?"

Elizabeth had prepared. She knew just the place.

Around a corner, off of the High Street, was Leonora's. This shop sold nice, wonderful dresses at reasonable prices -- well, they were higher than the big chains, but not too much. The clothes were wonderful.

The shopkeeper was a fussy, busy little old lady, herself dressed elegantly in a smart off-white trouser suit. She greeted Elizabeth by name and Elizabeth replied "Hello, Leonora. How are you?"

Greetings were exchanged and Denise was introduced to Leonora.

"Er, Leonora? I need a practice dress for ballroom dancing. Monday night, so I can't wait, I'll have to get something straight away. Do you have anything you can recommend?" asked Denise.

"Stand up straight a moment, dear, and let me look at you."

Denise did as she was told.

"C cup, I think?" the lady asked Denise, who nodded. "I have just the thing," Leonora announced.

The dress was gorgeous. Made of a light material that was slightly translucent, the deep red colour went beautifully with Denise's hair. It had a drop-waist, a flattering ruched bodice and showed Denise's bust with a halter deep-V neckline. Accented with stunning embroidery and bugle beads it was finished with an asymmetrical hem that showed most of Denise's impressive legs. One look was all that Denise needed, but for form's sake she tried it on. Leonora and Elizabeth both approved, and the dress became Denise's property.

As they left the shop, Elizabeth turned to Denise, and asked in an odd voice, "Have you got time for a coffee, Denise?"

"Of course, Elizabeth. For you I'd make time, after the help you've given me -- for this dress alone, it's been worth it."

Just around the corner there was a small café. Elizabeth went straight in and looked around, then obviously spotted someone. She walked to a table where an elderly gentleman sat, drinking tea.

"Hello, James. Good of you to come," she said, placing her hand on his for a moment before gesturing for Denise to sit in another chair at the table.

"James, this is Denise. Denise, James, a friend of mine."

Elizabeth's gentleman friend was a distinguished looking man in his late fifties, with thick silver hair and a long face currently curled into a smile. He stood for a moment as the ladies both sat, and Denise saw that he was of average height, well dressed -- actually 'well-to-do' was probably the best description she could come up with.

James and Elizabeth had tea, while Denise had some coffee, and watched the older pair. It was obvious that they were close, and Denise almost felt like a voyeur watching and listening to them, but they pulled her into their conversation and the feeling passed. Before they parted after their drinks, Denise felt as if she'd known James for a long time. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise also bought some new work clothes, especially some new tops with a décolletage that presented her bustline without being too revealing. She really had to wear trousers at work, crawling under desks and climbing up half into the ceiling space precluded skirts!

So, on Monday, Denise arrived at work in one of her new outfits -- A burgundy coloured top and trouser suit set. This one didn't show a whole lot of skin, but it certainly hugged her figure as far as her waist, where it was looser, flattering her figure. The trousers were smart, functional yet flattering. Denise wore her hair in a French Braid, and had a touch more makeup on than usual.

She walked into reception and Elaine looked up, smiled and called out, "Denny! You look great!"

"Thanks, Laney!" she answered. The two exchanged gossip about the weekend. Elaine, for her part, wanted to know more about Denise's dance dress.

"I'll show you another time, Laney. It's at home."

Elaine pouted.

"Okay, I'll go home and fetch it at lunchtime!" laughed Denise, then saying, "I've got to get in and get on with work, Laney. See you later!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that morning, Stan went to find Denise to ask a question about their project. He was directed to the Sales department, where Denise was currently sorting out a problem.

He found Denise under Ewan's desk. At least, he assumed it was her rear end he could see sticking out from there. He noted that Ewan was obviously enjoying the sight.

"Denise?" he asked.

"Minute!" Denise's voice came from under the desk, slightly muffled.

Stan was a little amused, and also rather attracted, by the sight of Denise's rear end wriggling as she worked away at something under there. Finally she backed up and stood, slightly flushed.

"I couldn't get that darn thing in, I had to push hard to get it to fit," she told Ewan. Ewan held still for a moment, then couldn't stop himself and sniggered.

Realising what she'd said, Denise flushed a dark red. Stan broke in to defuse things, asking "Denise, have you got a moment? I've found something in your program."

He pulled away slightly, and Denise followed. They walked off toward the IT office. "Trust that Ewan to find some sort of innuendo in what I said!" she complained, but then she saw Stan's face, and the barely held smile there. Suddenly she couldn't stop her own grin. "Did I really say that?" she asked in a sort of quiet squeak.

"I'm afraid you did!" answered Stan, barely holding his own mirth in check. It's not so much that it was funny in itself, as that it was Ewan, universally regarded in The Firm as a bit sleazy. There was nothing anyone could pin down, he just seemed to inspire that feeling in the ladies at The Firm. Saying what Denise had, to him, practically guaranteed a reaction.

Denise punched Stan on the arm, not too lightly. None the less she was grinning at him as they reached her desk.

"What can I do for you, anyway, Stan?" she asked.

Stan described the minor bug he'd found, and the two of them tried, and succeeded, in reproducing it. Meanwhile, Stan was noting the changes in his friend, not only the style of dress she'd adopted today, but she was, at least outwardly, almost back to the good friend he'd known before her trip to Ibiza and his relationship with Anne. Stan was pleased. He didn't like to lose her friendship.

The bug was soon found and corrected. "A typo in the code, silly really!" declared Denise.

- - - - - - - - - -

That lunchtime Denise ate with Elizabeth quickly, then dashed home to pick up her new dance dress. She showed it to Elaine who gushed "Oh, that's lovely Denise, and dead sexy, too!" When Denise explained that it was only a practice dress, Elaine asked if she was serious about dancing, perhaps in competition.

"Oh, no, Laney. Well, not yet anyway! I never got further than the beginners' classes. But those who compete generally have some quite beautiful, often outrageous outfits. This one's comparatively tame, but yes, it is gorgeous, isn't it!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne had been wondering whether to ask Stan to offer Denise a lift to the school for much of the day, and was still not fully decided. She knew that not making the decision was making the decision though, and called Stan to ask what he thought. Before she made the call, she made a bet with herself that he'd say "Yes".

"Yes, of course!" came Stan's voice down the receiver. "I thought you'd already offered, actually. Do you want me to call her, Anne, or would you like to make the offer yourself?"

'Gut check time,' thought Anne. 'This is my man, and I'm giving someone who believed she'd had a chance with him a golden opportunity. Bad move? Good move?'

('No, not yours like that,' an inner voice said, 'he doesn't belong to you!')

In the end, she realized, it was moot, because the main opportunity for Denise to do anything would be at the dance class anyway, and she'd agreed to that. Yes, she should be graceful about it.

"Yes, Stan, I'll call and set it up. Thanks for helping me to clear my mind up."

So, not much later, Anne phoned Denise.

"Denise, hi, it's Anne. Would you like a lift to the dance school tonight?"

Anne waited for a moment before Denise answered.

"Ummmm. Yes, Anne, thank you. That's very kind of you."

They arranged a time for pickup, and Denise hung up. 'Well,' Anne thought, 'I hope that was a good idea.'

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne dressed carefully, and specially, for that night.

She had a very dark purple dress, with a short, asymmetric hemline and a halter-style neck consisting of four straps, gathered at both front and back by silver rings. She'd not worn it since she'd bought it, in fact she'd wondered why she'd bought it. While Anne was proud of her legs, this really was short, possibly too short. Well, for normal wear, anyway, for her. But she'd remembered seeing shows on television where the dancers wore much more extreme costumes than this, and besides, now she felt the need.

To go with this, she had a pair of leopard-skin sandals that looked really, really good on her. She spent time on her makeup, wanting to be perfect, before finishing off with some lovely perfume she'd bought on a trip to Egypt.

Anne looked at the clock. There were still a few minutes to go before Stan was due to pick her up. She found that she was nervous and poured herself a drink. She settled onto her sofa, switched the TV on and turned it to something mindless, as she waited. Suddenly she thought of something, picked up the phone, and dialled.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan was wearing the same suit and shoes as he'd worn each time he'd gone to the studio. He'd put on the blue tie again, with his regulation white shirt.

He was looking forward to the night. In the first place there was the prospect of dancing with Anne, something he'd found he enjoyed a lot. Then there was the added frisson caused by Denise being there, Stan didn't deny, deep inside, that he found the girl extremely attractive, although he couldn't, wouldn't say anything in front of Anne.

Of course, he was also looking forward to the dancing, and the instruction. Stan had found that he liked it, enjoyed it, for its own sake. He had started each lesson very unsure of himself, but by the second half was starting to find his rhythm on each occasion.

He was interrupted in his reverie by the telephone.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Anne! Tie? Purple? Yes, I think so... yes I have. Okay, I'll wear that then. See you in a few minutes."

- - - - - - - - - -

When Stan arrived at Anne's door a little later, he was very pleasantly surprised by the sight there. Anne was standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear at his reaction, weight on one hip, one leg in advance of the other and looking wonderful in her dress. Stan was, simply, stunned. That dress came up almost to her hip on one side, and only a little further the other. Anne had long legs to start with, now they looked as if they went on for miles.

"I take it you approve?" Anne asked him, doing a twirl to show the dress off.

"Anne, you look fantastic! But I take it you're not going commando tonight?"

Anne smiled even wider. She stepped back slightly, then lifted her dress to show the black full-backed panties she was wearing. "No free looks at my ass tonight, Stan!" She giggled as she lowered the hem again, "Ooh, I feel like a teenager again. It's all your fault, you know!"

Stan closed his eyes, and then reopened them, expecting the world to have changed back. It hadn't. Anne was still there, in the doorway, a vision in dark purple, light golden hair piled up and back on the top of her head. He shook his head, unable to find words, and instead stepped forward and reached for her hand.

Anne came willingly and he drew her into his arms. For a moment they shared a close embrace, then he turned and invited Anne to precede him to the car. As she passed, she turned to him and said, quietly, "You just want to get another chance to watch my ass!" -- and Stan cracked up, as that was precisely what he'd thought of, though not until after making the gesture!

Stan followed her to the car, opened the door for her and went around the car to get in himself. On the way to Denise's house, he glanced over and asked Anne, "Why the dressing up, Anne? Not that I mind, or have any say -- but you do look amazing, you know."

Anne answered quietly, "I just wanted you to have your eyes on me, Stan. No-one else."

They were nearly at Denise's house now, but Stan pulled sharply over and stopped. He turned and looked straight at Anne.

"I thought we'd discussed this, Anne. Who is it? Denise? You invited her, you know."

"Well, she asked. But yes, I said she could come. I suppose I'm just being silly."

"Well, if being silly makes you kook as good as that, I'll not complain overmuch. But yes, it's an odd reaction. Denise is a good friend, who I've never felt romantically attracted to."

Stan's conscience began to stir at that. 'Really? Not at all? You just told Anne a fib, didn't you!'

Nonetheless he continued, after a pause, "It's not a competition, Anne. Okay?"

Anne looked at him. He clearly didn't understand how she felt, but that wasn't too surprising since she wasn't sure, either.

"I'm okay, Stan. Let's go and pick Denise up, and we can go dancing."

- - - - - - - - - -

They arrived at Denise's house, and Stan got out to fetch her from the door. Before he got to her gate, Denise had fairly bounced out of the doorway, shut it and was almost skipping down her path towards him.

"You look happy tonight, Denise!" Stan said, as he opened the car door for her. "You also look fantastic! That dress looks wonderful on you." Stan caught Anne's expression and resolved to shut up. Unknowingly echoing Anne's thoughts from earlier, he wondered just how good an idea this had been.

Denise was answering, though. "I went shopping at the weekend with Elizabeth. We bought all kinds of stuff. She took me to this lovely shop in the town, Leonora's, and I bought this there."

Denise had her long red hair back in a ponytail, coming down to mid-back, and she, too, had spent time on her makeup. As Stan got back into the car and prepared to drive off, he reflected that if Anne really wanted to find something to explode over, Denise had provided the touch paper. It would be up to him to make sure the fuse didn't get lit.

The atmosphere in the car began as frosty, but had melted to merely cool by the time Stan parked near the old school. At least they were all talking to one another, he thought.

Arriving at the door, Stan saw that Belinda had the 'meet and greet' duty that night. She exclaimed with delight as she welcomed Denise back, giving her a quick squeeze and an air kiss. Stan caught a glimpse of Anne's expression, and he wondered again just how good this idea was. But Belinda then greeted Stan and Anne equally warmly, making a fuss of Anne, in particular. 'Just how perceptive is this woman?' Stan wondered.

Stan overheard Belinda asking how Denise had been, and all the normal questions people ask when they haven't seen one another for a while. Then the elegant older lady asked Denise if she remembered how to Waltz, as that's what they'd be doing this week.

"I only did Waltz for one week, Belinda, and that was a while ago. That's why I asked to come along to the beginners' classes again. I want to learn to dance properly, I finished too early."

"Well my dear, you're welcome along tonight, and we'll see how you remember. I don't imagine you'll have a problem at all with the steps tonight, I remember you as having talent."

Stan groaned, inwardly. Was he the only one who didn't find dance steps natural?

Belinda turned to Anne, standing next to him, and asked her, "You enjoyed yourself last time then Anne?"

Anne answered, "Yes, thank you Belinda. It was great fun, nothing like as intense and intimidating as my old ballet classes had been. I actually really liked it. I confess that having this lunk around didn't hurt, though..." she finished, looking sidelong at Stan.

"No accounting for taste!" Belinda sniffed, then grinned at Stan, warmly taking him by the hand and leading him into the main hall. "It's a good job you know I'm a rotten tease, isn't it?"

"Actually, I'm deeply offended!" said Stan, stiffly, but then he broke into a wide smile of his own. Belinda smiled back.

Stan was pleased to see that Pamela was there, also that Carol was in attendance again. Less agreeably, he saw that Tom was not only present but also alert. He'd already noticed Denise.

Well, he could warn her. "Denise, you see that guy over there?"

"Mmmm?"

"The one in the sharp suit, with the red tie? He's Tom, he's bad news. Likes to get his hands all over the place, if you know what I mean."

"Actually, he sounds interesting, Stan!" came the disconcerting reply, and Denise sashayed her way over to meet Tom. Stan was left floundering, wondering what to do. Anne touched his arm and told him, "She'll find out, Stan. It's not up to you to protect her. Come along."




Equal Shares Ch. 22



The dance lesson itself went much the same way as in the past weeks. Yves and Belinda demonstrated the steps and then Carol partnered Stan. Later, Belinda herself took him on. Stan was finding it more difficult to settle into the very different rhythm of the Waltz and was glad when they took a break for refreshments.

Anne joined him in the queue for refreshments.

"Tom and Denise seem to be getting on well, don't they?" Anne mentioned to Stan. "They seem to be quite the pair."

Indeed, Denise seemed to be attached at the hip to the younger man, who clearly had enjoyed the attention.

"Yes, they do, don't they?" Stan replied, content that the stormy atmosphere of earlier had mellowed. Indeed, Stan was, himself, very content to be waiting in the queue to get his bottled water with the taller blonde's hand held in his.

As usual, Yves and Belinda mixed up the pairs for the second half of the evening. Stan found himself dancing with Denise, Anne with Tom, an arrangement only Tom seemed really happy with. Denise however proved to be an excellent partner. Nimble footed, she and Stan were moving well together, and Stan found his rhythm. He was able to settle into things, and began to enjoy the Waltz for the first time.

He was also able to pay attention to his partner for the first time, as well. Denise was obviously having fun, lost in the joy of the movement. She remained an enigma to Stan, but he was unable to take time to try to work her out, he still had to concentrate on his movements. Although he was better at it now, it still didn't just 'happen'.

Yves called for a halt, and he and Belinda provided their demonstration dance. Anne moved to Stan, and Denise saw her move, looked and found Tom. She, in turn, glided over to him and pulled him over to stand next to Stan.

Anne reached for Stan's hand as they watched Yves lead Belinda around the floor. Denise, standing between the two men, leaned over and quietly told Stan, "See, I told you they were excellent. So elegant, too!"

Then she leaned back, resting one arm on Tom's.

After the demonstration, Belinda thanked everyone for coming and then walked over to talk to Denise. Anne and Stan waited patiently in the corridor just inside the front door. Eventually Denise emerged with a smile on her face.

"Did you enjoy tonight, Denise?" asked Anne as they walked to Stan's car.

"Yes, yes I did! I only stopped coming because Raoul and I found other things to do, and then when we split I didn't want to see him here anyway. Yves and Belinda are so nice."

They reached the car, and Stan opened the doors for the ladies. As he got in himself, he heard Denise, from the back seat, say, "I even got a date out of it, already!" She giggled. "Tom's asked me out, and I said I'd be delighted. We're going to Tennant's on Friday!

There was a moment's silence. Anne broke it, "Well, isn't that good news! When did he ask you?"

"Just now, sorry, it's why I was a bit late. He stayed behind and asked me out after Belinda had spoken with me."

Stan didn't dare open his mouth. He hoped Denise wasn't going to be hurt, again. But he didn't trust Tom.

- - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 23



"So, Stan, how did things go last night?" asked Elizabeth on Tuesday morning.

"What's this, a progress report, Elizabeth?" asked Stan with a grin. "I have to say, it's pleasant to be giving one instead of being the subject of one!"

Elizabeth looked slightly embarrassed, but pressed on, "Well... How did things go?"

"Hmm. Things were a little tense in the car...Oh! You wouldn't know... Anne asked if I minded giving Denise a lift there. Well... No! Of course I didn't mind, and the two of them looked absolutely amazing. But things were definitely frosty to start with last night, I can tell you."

"Well, that's to be expected, Stan. But it was nice of Anne to make the gesture."

"Yes. Well, things did get better. The dance class was good. Denise is really quite good at dancing. She's also got a date for Friday night."

There was a flat quality to Stan's voice that Elizabeth noticed. She asked, with concern in her own tones, "What's wrong, Stan?"

"It's not what, it's who. The guy she's got the date with is a sleaze. I can imagine him in one of those old Noel Coward plays, in a smoking jacket, going from girl to girl. I don't trust him one bit. But, of course, Denise is delighted!" he finished with disgust.

"Have you warned her of this?"

"First thing I did. She just made a beeline for him, regardless. What can I do?"

Elizabeth muttered something that Stan didn't catch. Then aloud, she told him "I'll have a word and see how she feels about the guy. What's his name?"

"Tom."

"All right, Stan. I'll speak to her."

- - - - - - - - - -

Sure enough, Elizabeth and Denise ate together at lunch, again.

"I hear you have a date on Friday, Denise?" asked Elizabeth.

"Yes, I have! Stan's been interrogated, I assume?" Denise answered, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I may have asked him about last night, now you mention it!" Elizabeth laughed. "Don't dodge the question!"

"All right, Elizabeth. Yes, I have a date on Friday. His name's Tom, he was at the class last night, he's a charmer. We're going out to dinner."

"What's he like?"

"Oh, he's about an inch taller than me, thick, dark, wavy hair, slight accent – Irish maybe? – and smartly dressed. Oh, his hands go everywhere I'm not supposed to let them, and I had to stop that a couple of times, but he's basically harmless."

"So, is this just a date for fun, or with something more in mind?"

"Oh, it's just fun, plus I get to see if I can make Stan squirm a little."

Elizabeth thought for a moment.

"Denise, you won't make Stan jealous, you know."

"No, probably not. But shaking my booty in front of him, and especially with Tom, seemed to get his attention. I just want to have a little fun, and if I can tweak Stan's nose a tiny bit, well, that's a bonus."

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne, on the other hand, had lunch with Stan. Today was much better than Friday had been.

They chatted about the weekend in general and then the subject moved on to James.

"I wonder what little scheme he has up his sleeve?" pondered Anne. "I knew him fairly well, but not that well, so I don't think I can guess at all. He's a materials physicist by training, a teacher by inclination. He knows an awful lot of people. Ah well, it might just be a new Golf Club or something for all I know."

Anne changed the subject.

"Seen anything of Denise this morning?"

"No, not yet," answered Stan. "I've got to see her this afternoon for a minute or two, though."

"She certainly moves fast once her mind's made up, doesn't she?" remarked the blonde.

"She's a grown woman. Not for me to judge." Stan replied.

"Oh, come on. She threw herself at that Tom. I hope she enjoys what she gets from him. I know you warned her, Stan, so she can't say she didn't know."

Stan felt uncomfortable.

"Well, Anne, it's her choice. But I don't think it's a good one, no. It's not my place to interfere, though is it?"

"No, Stan, it's not."

- - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Stan asked Anne if she fancied a drink down at the Mitre in the evening. "It became almost a habit, and I enjoyed it. I miss it, a bit," he told her.

"Sounds like a good idea, but I can't drink. I have to be on form first thing in the morning – there's that meeting with Sales about follow-up work on the chip first thing in the morning."

"That's okay, you can drive!" Stan answered with a sly grin. Anne glared at him, but then leaned over and gave him a kiss. "I love you, but you're a pig, you know? I have a better idea. We can cycle, then you can get some exercise to help work off the calories in those drinks."

Inwardly, Stan groaned, but all he said was, "I have a better way of working off the calories..."

"Well if you drank too much you'd miss out on that, too. So you see what a good idea I had?" Anne told him, smiling.

"I cannot deny the faultless logic of your argument."

"See? 'Berkeley is always right. I will listen to Berkeley!' " the taller blonde told him, with a smirk.

"That's the wrong SciFi show!" Stan told her in disgust, but he had to grin, as well.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that evening Stan and Anne chained up their cycles outside the Mitre. Stan was still grumbling, but was keeping it quiet – besides, in his heart of hearts he knew Anne was right.

They walked in and found the place was quieter than normal. Stan asked the barman about this, and was told "Oh, it happens sometimes. You just never know," as he bought the half pint of beer for him and an orange juice and lemonade for Anne.

They weren't alone long, though. Susan and Elaine came in, spotted Stan and Anne, and came over to sit.

"You're a little early aren't you?" asked Susan as she sat next to Anne, on the opposite side to Stan.

"No, not really, it just seems that way," replied Anne. "Stan asked the barman, apparently it's a slow week. It happens sometimes, he said."

Elaine had overheard. "Yes, sometimes it can be really, really quiet in here, then another time it'll be really heaving. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason to it, it just works out that way."

She sat next to her partner, handing over her drink.

The four of them sat and chatted together for a while. Stan noticed Elaine pouring the last of Susan's bottle of cider into her glass, and got up to buy a round of drinks for them all, intending to have a mineral water for himself this time.

"Is this seat taken?"

Stan looked up to see Denise. He was surprised, but pleased to see her there with a smile on her face and indicating a fifth chair at an adjacent unused table. "Hi Denise. Pull one up. Want a drink?"

"Gin and tonic, please – I'm not driving!"

When Stan came back to the table he found Denise sitting at the end of the table opposite Anne, and next to Elaine. "You need to be able to get back in," she told Stan when he looked at her, quizzically, so he slid back into his seat next to Anne.

Elaine was snuggled in close to Susan, who was telling off-colour jokes.

"Here's one we can all relate to. Little Johnny and his two friends are sitting on the front porch one day. 

"The first one says, "My Daddy is so cool he can eat four burgers at one meal." 

"The second one says, "That's nothing. My Daddy can eat six." 

"Little Jonny starts laughing and says, "My Daddy can eat light bulbs."

"The other two boys tell Jonny that he is out of his mind. They ask him why he thinks His daddy can eat light bulbs.

"Little Jonny replies, "Last night I was passing my parents room and my Daddy said, 'Honey, turn out that light. I want to eat that thing.'""

Everyone laughed, and Elaine gave Susan a kiss. Susan visibly preened.

Anne complimented Denise on her look. "That beautiful green top looks great with your hair, Denise. You really look attractive tonight. If I wasn't straight, I could be tempted."

Susan gave Anne a loooong look. Elaine noticed, grinned, and told Anne, "If you weren't straight, I think I'd have a rival!"

Susan smirked and told Elaine, "Well, I'm allowed to look too, aren't I?"

"Yeah, provided you pay attention to me – that's the agreement, I have to pay more attention to you, then you don't get as jealous when I look – so it works the other way around. Did I mention that I love you, Susan?" 

The two women smiled at each other, then Elaine looked at Denise. "I hear you've got yourself someone new?"

"Yeah, I'm seeing him on Friday. He's taking me to dinner."

"Ooh, a traditional date! Are you going to let him woo you, Denny?" Elaine teased.

"Oh, you be quiet, or I'll start telling stories of my own, Laney!" Denise answered with a grin. Elaine smiled back, and then looked at Susan. Susan nodded slightly, so Elaine reached over to Denise, grabbed her head and gave her a kiss.

"I guess that's no longer a secret at all, then!" Denise laughed when they broke. Elaine turned back to Susan and gave her a hug.

Susan smiled at Denise. "We've talked a lot these past few days and nights. I was hurting us by being possessive. Elaine was hurting us by not paying me enough attention, or so it seemed to me. So we talked, and it turned out that there simply wasn't enough time in the day for Elaine to give me, according to me, but on the other hand each of us felt as madly for the other... "

"Yes, and Susan now sees that there's only so much time and attention, and I need some time to myself. I've managed to convince her that even if I look at another girl, I'm her girlfriend so we're both a bit more relaxed about our relationship," completed Elaine.

"So does that mean I can call, and talk to Laney without having to worry about the two of you?" asked Denise of Susan.

"Yes. If you need to talk, just holler!" smiled Susan. Elaine gave Susan a peck on the cheek, and Denise beamed.

Susan looked back at Anne. "Are you sure you're completely straight?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Anne told her.

- - - - - - - - - -

That Friday night, Anne and Stan went out for a meal together. Anne had booked a table for two at the same Indian restaurant that Stan had been to with Denise. 

As they sat down to eat Stan remarked on this.

"Well, after all, we couldn't go to Tennant's, could we, Stan?"

"No, not really. I think Denise might object – and in truth, I think I'd object, too. I can't stand the thought of Tom hurting her, and I'm convinced that's what'll happen."

"I thought you didn't get jealous, Stan?" asked Anne, curiously.

"Not jealous. Not possessive, either. I guess... protective. I just don't like the thought of Denise being hurt again. She's been through a lot, what with Jim in Ibiza, then coming home to you and me."

Anne and Stan studied their menus for a minute.

"You think a lot of her, don't you, Stan." It wasn't a question, it was a simple flat statement.

Stan looked at Anne over the top of his menu. Anne was wearing a black silk top, with gold threads picking out an oriental design. With her hair tied back, she looked severe but beautiful. Stan felt himself in a minefield again.

"Yes, Anne, I do, as a very good friend would. I thought you'd got over the jealousy thing?"

"No, I told you that it would take time. Time to build up trust, time to let feelings settle. I think you instinctively trust more easily than I do, Stan, possibly because the trust you feel has never been broken with the shards of it raked across your skin. I have! It's taking time for me to let go of the feelings left from that experience."

"Ouch! I felt that. Still that bad, huh?"

"Well, yes. But it's better than it's ever been Stan. I do trust you not to deliberately hurt me physically, and now I'm sure you don't intend to hurt me emotionally, but there's a part of me that still says, 'He might not mean to do it, but that doesn't mean it won't happen.' So you see I'm still a little sensitive about it."

Stan reached over and took Anne's hand.

"Sweetheart, I'm in love with you. Completely, utterly, totally. I promise you, I won't hurt you."

Anne gripped his hand, hard. "I believe that's what you mean, Stan. But you might not be able to help it. Things happen. I need... time, Stan."

"You'll get it, Anne. I'm not going anywhere, you know."

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan was quiet that night. Anne noticed.

"Stan, what's wrong?" she asked him as they got ready for bed.

"Nothing sweetheart, nothing. I'm just tired, that's all. Let's get to bed, and I can cuddle you, and we can sleep."

They both slept nude. Anne reached for him, and Stan cuddled her, but there was still a distance between them. Anne rolled over, and they spooned for a while, then Stan moved back a bit to run his hand down her back.

Stan stroked her back, absently, almost mechanically. His mind was elsewhere. 'What more can I do to make you realize that I won't, can't hurt you?' he wondered while Anne made purring noises as his hands moved slowly and softly across her skin.

"Ooh, you can keep that up," she told him, relaxing even more as he moved just his fingertips gently up and down her back.

"That's all right Anne, I'll do this as long as you want me to," he answered, bringing his mind back to what he was doing. With featherlike touch he moved his fingers up and down, then in circles, then spirals in and out, all over from the small of her back right up to the nape of her neck.

As he moved his hands back down to start again Anne arched, groaning softly and throatily. She rolled over and told him, "I thought you wanted to go to sleep, Stan? Well you've turned me on, so now I want something..."

Anne kissed him, almost attacking him, tongue-duelling with him for territorial possession, almost crushing his lips. Stan gasped a little as she lifted up and off him for a moment.

She gave him a slightly feral smile as she moved over and down, taking him in her hand, stroking. Stan was mentally tired but still reacted physically, and Anne purred again as he stiffened in her grasp. Stan felt the wetness of her tongue as she bent her head and licked the head like a lollipop, around and around, before she plunged her head down to lick at the base, then ran her tongue up slowly, agonisingly slowly towards the tip again.

She did it again, then a third time, before Stan felt her hot mouth surround him, moving slowly down over his penis, hand gripping him before she started to bob up and down.

"Anne, I can't take much of that, you know!" he gasped. Anne didn't answer, and didn't stop. She did slow down a fraction however, taking her head off his penis for a moment to look back up at him with that devastating smile of hers, before beginning again.

Stan let his head fall back onto the pillow, simply enjoying the sensations for a moment. He lifted up again to see the blonde hair moving back and forth, as she fellated him, obviously loving every second.

Stan pulled at her hips and Anne shifted, straddling his face so they were in a sixty-nine with her on top. Anne had to bend her back a little, but now Stan was able to return the favour.

Stan had always enjoyed this. He loved the perfume, the taste and the texture, and he licked Anne slowly from the base of her labia towards the hidden treasure of her clit.

Anne was still licking, sucking, jacking at his penis. Stan was running his tongue in the crease between her inner and outer labia, first one side, then the other, running figure-eights, sometime lifting his head just that bit further so he could dip his tongue right inside her. But Stan was right, he wasn't going to last long, and within a short while he felt himself about to come. "Anne!" he warned her, and Anne moaned around him, sending him flying over the edge.

Stan came, strongly, into the mouth of his lover. His hips bucked up as he tried, involuntarily, to jam more of himself into her mouth, but Anne had her hand in place to prevent that, and she rode his movements, sucking and swallowing. Finally spent, Stan relaxed a moment. Then after his vision cleared, he lifted his head and began, once again, to play the beautiful pussy in front of him with his mouth.

Anne squeaked as he began again. Her juices were running freely, and Stan wormed a digit inside her, crooking to find her G-spot. Anne was soon making small, jerking movements of her hips, unable to hold still, moaning, while Stan played her like an instrument. Finally she squealed, jamming herself down onto his face, almost crushing his nose.

Anne collapsed onto him, falling forwards slightly. Both took a moment to catch their breath.

Finally she rolled off him and scooted back up to kiss him. The kiss was loving and passionate but less needful than before.

Anne laid her head on his shoulder and they just lay there and cuddled for a while. Finally she spoke.

"Stan, I want you to know that I love you," she told him, "You never need worry about that. I disappointed you earlier tonight, I think. What I said was true but I need you to know that I would never stop loving you no matter what. We've both been given second chances. I'll not spoil that."

"Oh, Anne. I know that. I trust you, completely. I know that you love me. Deep inside, I know it. I'll not hurt you, or stop loving you, and I think that you know that but are afraid of really letting yourself go enough to believe it. But you will."

He kissed her nose as she lifted her head up to look at him. "Thank you my darling," he told her. "Thank you for what we've just done, and for loving me, and for just being in my life."

"The same right back to you, Stan," she told him, before they fell silent once more. 

They fell asleep, with her head still on his shoulder.



Equal Shares Ch. 24



On Monday morning, Stan saw Denise walk into the office. He sat back in his chair and watched as the young redhead walked up to him. Denise was wearing some tight tan-coloured trousers, a navy blue cashmere sweater with a white button-down blouse layered underneath it, traditional enough but the top two buttons of the blouse were open, and the trousers were just tight enough to enhance her figure rather than just display any bulges there were.

"I won't be needing a lift, I'll drive myself to the school tonight, Stan. I'll be going out with Tom afterwards," she told him.

"All right then, Denise," Stan replied. "You and he got on well on Friday night then?"

"Oh, yes, he's a laugh," she said. "He's not afraid of enjoying himself. We had a nice meal, then we went to a club and danced for a while."

Denise turned and looked over her shoulder at Stan in a move that was almost a carbon copy of the look that Anne had given Stan that night of their own first date. It had a similar effect, and it was a good job Stan was sitting.

She grinned at him and sauntered off. Stan paused a moment, then got on with his work.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elizabeth had had a nice weekend, too. She was at the table near their desks, sorting out some filing, when she turned to Stan.

"James came over to see me on Sunday," she told him.

"Mmm?" replied Stan, who was deep into a failure analysis.

"I said, James came over to see me on Sunday!" she said, with some asperity.

"Ah. All's well there, then? You and James getting along famously? Let's see the ring? When's the wedding?"

"Oh, You! Nothing like that. He's a very good friend, and he came over to help in my garden, that's all. We tidied up in the borders, he mowed my lawn, that sort of thing. Then we sat outside for a while in the sunshine and had a drink."

"What made you bring it up, Elizabeth?"

"I don't know, really," she said, slightly wistful. "I was just thinking of the weekend, and so on, and it came into my head."

Before Stan could think of a comment, Elizabeth picked up some filing and got on with her work.

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening, it was Yves' turn to 'meet and greet' the students as they entered the dance class. He looked up as Anne came through the door and smiled warmly at the blonde.

Anne was wearing black and gold again, this time a dress that stopped just above her knee but flared widely allowing her to move, and with a high collar but fitted across the bust. Stan had described it as 'form following', which was exactly the effect desired. She had her gold shoes on again, they went well with her dress, and of course her hair colour matched as well. Anne'soutfit was completed by a pair of small gold dangly earrings. It was a head-turning combination and it certainly worked with Yves.

Stan entered behind her and shut the door -- it was a chilly early September night -- in time to hear Yves say "Welcome Anne, Welcome! You are well, I trust? Ah, Stan, good to see you as well, of course!"

Turning from the door back towards Yves, Stan grinned at the older man. "Yes, and you really mean that, don't you?" he told him as he gripped the other's hand in a warm greeting as the other stepped back from giving Anne a peck on the cheek.  

"Go straight in, we're almost all here and will start in about five minutes," Yves told them, so they walked together into the main hall.

There, Stan saw Denise standing by the wall next to Tom, chatting away animatedly. She turned, as if to see who had just walked in, and waved before continuing her non-stop chatter.

This was their second Waltz lesson, and it went smoothly enough at first. Stan partnered Pamela again, while Anne was asked to partner a newcomer, a young (and nervous) man named Paul. Both successfully went through the practice, being shown various moves and generally soaking up 'how to Waltz.'

At the break, Pamela and Tom were in front of Stan and Anne as they waited to get their refreshments.

Stan watched as Tom put his hand on Pamela's ass. Pamela swatted it away and Tom did it again.

A second time Pamela slapped the hand away, and this time she turned to him and muttered something in his ear. Stan saw Tom smirk.

Stan seethed. He didn't really know why, even, but he could feel his hackles rising.

They got their drinks. Stan and Anne stood against the wall, sipping. Anne was chatting to Belinda, standing next to her, while Stan, on her other side, watched everyone.

Pamela had moved away from Tom, looking annoyed. Denise obviously hadn't seen anything as she emerged from the Ladies' room just at that moment. Tom saw her and smiled, going to her, putting his arm around her waist and talking.

Stan's attention was drawn back to Yves and Belinda as they called for the evening to restart. This time Stan partnered Carol.

"Did you see that Tom just now?" murmured Carol into Stan's ear. "I swear if it was me I'd slap his face. The nerve! Then he has the barefaced cheek to make all goody-goody with that nice new lady, what's her name..."

"Denise!" muttered Stan. "Yes, I saw it."

The dance continued, and then Belinda took over from Carol, who was swept up into the arms of an exuberant Yves.

"Yves is on top form tonight. Wait until you see our demonstration -- he loves the Waltz, it's such a romantic dance."

Stan was only too pleased to take his mind off Tom.

"Yes, Yves has been enjoying himself all night, hasn't he? Carol's pretty good at this, too."

"Oh, you're coming along fine Stan, yourself. Don't disparage your abilities."

Somehow Belinda brought the gallant out of Stan.

"It's dancing with you that makes me able to do so well, Belinda!" he told her. Belinda's head went back as she gaily laughed, telling him a moment later, "Oh, if you were around when I met Yves he'd have had a rival, I think! Flatterer!"

Too soon, Yves called a halt and told the class that Belinda and he would do their demonstration now. Stan had been really enjoying himself for the first time that night, and was disappointed that it had come to an end, but it did mean that he was able to put his arm around Anne again.

Pamela stood next to him on his other side. She leaned across and said, "You were enjoying that dance, weren't you Stan? I watched. It's a good job for you that Anne didn't!"

Stan grinned. "Oh, I think Anne knows that Belinda's no rival for my affections!"

Yves cued up the music, and the two instructors began. Belinda was right, this was passionate yet romantic, with a sweetness to the sensuousness of the dancing.

Tom and Denise were next to Pamela.

Suddenly Pamela turned and smacked Tom's arm. "Leave me alone!" she hissed.

Stan turned and told Tom, "Yes, leave the lady alone, Tom. She's too good for the likes of you." Stan himself was taken by surprise at his reaction.

"Mind your own business, old man. You've got yourself sorted, leave me alone!" Tom snarled at him.

"You leave Anne out of this! Actually, while we're at it, you leave Denise out of this as well! You're not good enough for her -- you're only going to hurt her!"

People were turning to stare.

One of them was Denise.

"Stan, you stay out if it. Don't interfere in my life," she told him.

Tom smirked again. Stan was getting very tired of seeing that expression.

"Denise, this, this person isn't fit to wipe your shoes, yet you're virtually throwing yourself at him! Don't do it!" he told her. Tom's smirk faded, but it was replaced by anger. Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw movement -- a tall blonde in black was shifting to his side.

"You think you're good enough for her, do you? Well, if that's the case, stop interfering, like the lady said," Tom growled threateningly at him.

"Stan?" he heard from the figure to his right. He ignored it.

"You bloody wolf, all you're after is one thing. I hope to God she doesn't give it to you!" he told Tom, now really upset.

He was astonished to feel a slap to his face -- from Denise!

"Stop interfering in my life, Stan!" she shouted at him. "I'm trying to enjoy myself, have some fun, and you're pushing your nose in. You've found someone else, when you told me you weren't ready for a relationship!" She shook her head as she nearly spat the words at him. "Well, who the hell do you think you are? You're old enough to be my father, but you're NOT -- so stay the HELL out of my life!"

Denise turned and stormed off. Stan was stunned. Tom looked insufferably pleased, and turned to follow Denise. Stan was then jerked to his right.

"Stanley Hinch, I'm not going to forgive you for this!" Anne hissed at him. "I thought you didn't feel for her -- well it's obvious you do!"

Stan couldn't hold her eye. He looked away, and saw Belinda and Yves looking upset, displeased and shocked in various measures.

"Don't you look away from me!" Anne told him, menacingly. "You're with me, Stanley!

Stan met her eyes. Anne was furious. Stan was completely confused. He didn't really understand what had just happened, or what he was feeling. He did the only thing he could think of... he turned away from Anne and addressed the room.

"Um. Sorry everyone. I think we got a little carried away, just then. Sorry," he called out, then looked at Yves and Belinda. "I really am most sorry, I can't apologise enough. I think we'll be leaving, now."

Pamela touched his arm and mouthed "Thanks," looking sorry for him. He gave a quick smile in response, but his heart wasn't in it.

Anne turned and stalked off towards the cloakrooms. Stan followed, downcast, miserable and still very confused.

- - - - - - - - - -

The temperature gauge in Stan's Mondeo reported a fairly chilly night outside. That might have been true outside the car, but inside it was just plain icy cold. Anne hardly spoke a word to him, other than to peremptorily tell him to take her home.

"Straight home, Stan!" were her actual words. Stan wanted to talk, to try to explain, but he knew better than to attempt it. Besides, he didn't have his own thoughts in order, yet. He would need to work out what had happened himself, before trying to talk, to explain, to apologise to Anne.

He reached Anne's house, and she flung open the door and got out, without saying a word. The car door slammed behind her as she walked stiffly up the path to her front door. Stan watched sadly as the door opened and shut, without a single glance back from the lady he was in love with.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan drove home, alone. His mind was a whirl of images. Tom's smirk, Anne's icy cold face, Denise's fury, Belinda's disapproval... Stan felt he'd lost it all.

Again.

He hardly saw the road he was driving on. He pulled up outside his house not knowing how he'd got there, sat for a moment or two, then automatically opened the door and got out. Still without knowing what he was really doing, he shut the door, locked the car and walked to his front door.

There was one person he could turn to, one person who would help him, just one who knew him so well. 'Caron?' He walked into his living room and fell onto the sofa, closing his eyes as he did so.

'Caron? What did I do? What do I do now?'

He felt his wife's love wash over him, saw her, saw the concern in her face, the compassion in her eyes. He thought back to the dance studio. He'd seen Denise, his friend, being... what? Betrayed? 'Not really,' his inner self told him. He opened his eyes again.

He knew he'd over-reacted. Maybe that was it, but then again... Tom was already, still was actually, after another -- after Pamela -- while at the same time apparently courting Denise. Stan tried to analyse his feelings.

Was that jealousy he'd felt? What did he have to be jealous of?

'Nothing. Nothing at all,' he told himself. 'Denise was only a friend, wasn't she... Wasn't she?'

No! No, she wasn't "just a friend" at all, he realized. Denise was much more than that to him. Stan wasn't jealous of her ability and right to befriend another, but he'd felt protective towards her. 'Now what?!'

'Now you have to put that firmly to one side, and concentrate on winning Anne over,' he thought. 'Anne was furious with you!'

Why was that? Oh, of course, Anne knew he had deeper feelings for Denise. She'd known that all along. Oh... dear! There hadn't been time to cement their own relationship, and Anne felt him having feelings for another.

This was going to take work, patience, and finesse to pull them back together. Stan wasn't sure he could manage it, but he resolved to try. As he got ready for bed, he once more reached out for Caron's comforting touch. He felt her warmth come over him again. Caron understood. Caron always understood.

- - - - - - - - - -

Tuesday morning came. Stan made his way to work, and walked into reception. Elaine wasn't there - she was on holiday herself for the rest of the week. So it was Faye who saw him enter and called out "Good Morning!" to him cheerily.

Stan felt anything but cheerful. He grunted a reply, walked on through to his desk, and sat down.

He barely even saw Elizabeth, and grunted a non-committal reply to her own "Good Morning, Stan!"

The next thing he knew there was a cup of coffee placed on his desk. He looked up and saw a concerned looking Elizabeth standing next to him.

"You look like you need something stronger, Stan, but that'll have to do. Now, what's wrong?"

Stan picked up the cup, and sipped at it, while wondering what to tell Elizabeth.

"Um. Last night. I, er, I -- I think I blew it with Anne... over Denise."

Elizabeth's concern became even more obvious, her face was now very grave. But she walked back around and sat opposite Stan at her own desk. Then she leant forward and asked him what had happened.

Stan had had a night and a morning to try to organise his thoughts about that, but hadn't really succeeded. He thought it might help to talk to Elizabeth, that it might help him to sort his feelings out.

So, he told her.

"There's this guy at the dance lessons, Tom. He's been trying it on with one of the younger ladies there, a girl named Pamela, for weeks, and she knocks him back at every turn. Still, he keeps trying.

"But now Denise has fastened onto him, Lord knows why. They've been out together, and as far as I know they went out again last night. But he hasn't stopped trying it on with Pamela. I'm not talking about innocent flirting, here. He's got his hands where they're not wanted at every opportunity, and he'd really, really like a lot more than that. Somehow he's clever enough not to let Denise see that.

"Anyway, He did it again last night and I just blew up at him. He told me to mind my own business, and Denise got herself involved. She ended up slapping my face and shouting that I should allow her to have her own fun, that I wasn't ready to have a relationship with her but I already had one going with Anne... Then Anne turned into the remote ice-bitch that only she can be, and I ended up at home, alone, wondering what had hit me."

Elizabeth had her hand over her mouth. "Oh, goodness, Stan. Do you think you'll be able to patch things up with Anne?"

"I don't know, Elizabeth," he told his old friend. "I really, really don't know."

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that morning, Stan decided to try to speak to Anne. He walked over to the Lab, and found her holding imperious court over some of the other engineers.

Stan waited for her to finish, then moved towards her. Anne saw him and gave him a look. Stan flinched, she was baleful. He'd seen others on the receiving end of her displeasure, but now she seemed to be at her most brutal.

"What do you want, Mr. Hinch?" she asked. The tone was enough to freeze nitrogen.

"I think we need to talk, Anne," he told her, gently, submissively.

"I think you did enough talking last night!" she said, each syllable so cold it was almost cryogenic.

"Anne, please..."

"Just go, Stan, go!" She turned from him. He stood there for a long moment, and then he walked away, heavy hearted.

He didn't see the tear that ran down Anne's face, or hear the slight catch in her breath. 'Stan, wait!' she called out, but only in her mind.

- - - - - - - - - -

That afternoon Denise was in reception, chatting with Faye, when Anne came through. Denise instantly stopped talking and turned away from the tall blonde.

Anne paused. This wasn't the redhead's fault, after all.

"Denise, I..."

She couldn't think of the words.

"Anne, I'm sorry about last night, but Stan should know better than to interfere in my life when he's going out with you!" hissed a clearly still upset Denise.

Anne wasn't going to take that.

"Well, you're just being stupid. That Tom of yours has his hands over anyone he can get near to at those classes, and you refuse to see it. Whether Stan was right to say it or not, he's right about that and the sooner you realize it the sooner you'll dump that cad!"

Anne turned and walked regally off. As she did she heard Denise's voice ring out, "Why don't you people just let me live my own life and quit telling me what to do! Christ!"

At the doorway, Anne turned and told her, sweetly, "Because you're not capable of making mature decisions, Denise. You need someone to look after you. Perhaps if you grow up, we'll stop telling you how to live your life." Then she walked on through the door, allowing it to swing soundly shut behind her.



Equal Shares Ch. 25



Throughout that week, Stan kept trying.

"Anne, I really would like to talk about what happened. There's no need to throw everything away."

Anne turned to look at him.

"Stan, I'm not buying what you're peddling. You said you weren't ready for Denise, but you were, all the time. I don't really know what you thought you had with me, but I know what I thought it was. You said the right things, but your behaviour on Monday night showed something different to your words. You went beyond caring for a friend, Stan. Perhaps you ought to be mending fences with Denise, not me."

Of course, that wasn't really possible. Denise was obviously seeing Tom, and continued to be upset with Stan. When she saw Stan, Denise was cold and she turned away from him at every opportunity. That she was still with Tom was amply demonstrated to Stan on Thursday afternoon when Denise's cell phone bleeped during a discussion they were having about the documentation project.

"Ooh. It's from Tom!" she cried, gladly. "Wait a moment..."

Her thumb danced a jig over the keys for a few seconds, then she closed her phone with a flourish and dropped it back into her purse.

"We're going out again tomorrow night!" she told Stan, with more than a hint of challenge. Stan had learned - he kept his opinion behind his teeth.

- - - - - - - - - -

However, by Thursday night Anne was feeling fairly miserable herself. She finally admitted to herself that she had, perhaps, over-reacted a touch.

So, she phoned him, at home.

"Stan? Hi, it's Anne," she said as soon as he picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Anne! How are you?" came from the other end. 'Great,' she thought, irritably, 'he only saw me a few hours ago, he knows how I am.'

But aloud she replied, "I'm fine, Stan. Actually, I want to talk to you. You've been bugging me all week, and, well, I might have gone a bit far. Can you come over now?"

"Of course, Anne, I'll be there in a few minutes."

The phone went dead and Anne put a pot of coffee on.

Stan was true to his word and was at Anne's door in a remarkably short time.

Anne opened the door to find Stan there, looking damp and a little dishevelled. "Come in! Come in!" she urged him. Before closing the door she checked - it wasn't raining.

"You caught me just out of the shower," he told her in response to her quizzical look. "I didn't want to wait any longer than I absolutely had to, so I just threw clothes on and came straight over."

Sure enough, he had odd socks on. Anne couldn't help but grin.

"Sit down there and have a drink. I'm going to wait for the coffee to finish filtering, but you'd better have something now and warm up!"

Anne quickly grabbed a towel for his hair and fetched a drink for him – Glenmorangie with a separate glass of water. A few moments later they were comfortably seated next to one another on the sofa. Anne took the lead...

"Stan, I think I over-reacted on Monday. I think I saw just how much you obviously felt for Denise, and it caught me. I just didn't know how to react to something like that. I haven't had a 'Love Rival' since I was a teenager, and I'd lost out every time back then, and... well it frightened me."

"I understand, Anne. But to be honest the whole thing surprised me, too. It seemed as if it were happening to someone else, and I wasn't in control any more. It just... happened, and I... I was a spectator."

After Anne brought their coffee, they sat in silence thinking about what they'd done. Stan sipped his coffee, then continued, "I'm not very good at talking about things, Anne. So please, if this doesn't come out in a way you can understand, tell me before you turn on me, huh?"

Anne smiled. "Okay! I'll give you a warning."

"I was wrong, Anne. I was wrong all along, but I didn't realize the depth of the feeling I had, or even understand what it was. Me and Denise, I mean. She... I... We..."

He looked down, unable to continue. Anne laid her hand on his. Stan looked up again, and she held his gaze.

"Stan, it's all right, just think first and say it."

"I think I do love her, Anne. But I really, really love you, too. I don't think I understand that."

Anne gave him her slightly crooked grin, and said, "I don't either, Stan, it's something we'll have to work out. But first we have to look after our own relationship." She paused a second.

"Do you love me, Stan?"

She held his eyes. He answered with a catch in his voice, "Y-yes, Anne, I love you, I love you deeply..."

"Right. I love you right back, Stanley Hinch. So, no matter what else, we can always come back to that and work from there, okay?"

Stan took her hand and squeezed it. "Always, Anne. Always!"

Again, Anne took the lead – she moved to him, put one hand behind his head, and drew him into a kiss. It wasn't a fiery, sexual kiss, but there was depth of feeling there, of that there was no doubt at all.

Anne went into the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of wine, then sat back down. Anne shifted, and Stan moved, and they found themselves with her head on his belly, he half reclined, leaning against the corner of the sofa, she lying full out with her feet dangling over the other end.

They talked about this and that, skirting carefully around the minefield of Denise, each occasionally shifting the bare minimum to reach for her glass of wine or his scotch. Anne made a long arm and found the remote control for her stereo and turned on some music, it didn't really matter what it was, just something in the background. At some point she got up and brought the bottles in from the kitchen. They talked on, mostly about completely inconsequential things until the wee hours of the morning. Stan noticed that Anne's breathing had become slow and regular and felt his own eyes insisting on drooping.

Anne woke up feeling cold. For a moment she wondered where she was, then worked it out - on her sofa, with her man. Stan had fallen asleep with one hand gently curled around a breast, and Anne smiled. But her feet had gone really cold, and she had to move, it was already light outside. She glanced at her watch. 'Six in the morning, that must be early morning twilight,' she thought.

Anne carefully removed Stan's hand from its resting place and twisted and rolled until she was sitting up. She rubbed her calves, got the circulation going again and endured the pain as the feeling started to come back while she recovered.

Anne stood and hobbled upstairs fetching a blanket. Carefully lifting his feet up onto the sofa, she picked up the blanket and draped it over Stan's still recumbent form. He was snoring softly, and she smiled, tenderly. She had plenty of time to get herself ready, and she could let Stan sleep a while longer. Besides, she just wanted to watch him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan woke up when he was shaken. He opened his left eye and peered to see who, what, where...

"Oh! Hi, Anne. We must've fallen asleep... what time is it?"

"It's a quarter to seven, Stan. You'd better get yourself together and run home to get changed for work."

Stan's eyes tracked, following his nose. He found coffee sitting on the table in front of the sofa, and he took a sip, gradually coming to full awareness.

"Gah! I'm stiff and sore and I feel like I've gone 15 rounds, but I also feel better, inside." He reached up for her with his free hand, and the two exchanged a loving kiss.

"Anne, you've no idea how much..."

"Hush now Stan, later. Later. Now, you've got to drink your coffee and get home. I'll see you at lunch-time, we can skip out and talk. I let you sleep, but now you've got to get moving."

Anne got up and went into the kitchen. Stan admired her as she walked away. She wore one of her wraparound skirts, but instead of her body language repelling, now it invited, even as she walked away.

Stan looked at his watch again, gulped coffee down, and stood. He followed Anne into the kitchen, clasped his hands together around her waist from behind and snuggled into the back of the tall blonde's neck.

"Hmm. Thank you, Anne. Thank you!"

"Go on, Stan. Go. I'll see you at work," she said, softly. She turned within his embrace and kissed him. "Go!"

Stan went.

- - - - - - - - - -

That day at work was a blur to Stan. Elizabeth had the day off, so Stan had to confide in Bob the reason for his good humour.

He met Anne in reception at lunchtime, and they just went for a walk in the grounds, hand in hand, chatting. Anne pointed out a pathway that neither had explored, and the two went along it, to find themselves in a clearing among the trees and bushes of the extensive grounds belonging to The Firm.

"I've not walked through here before, Stan. Have you?" Anne asked.

"No, I don't think so," Stan replied. "It's not natural, though. I wonder what it is?" 

"It's an auld formal garden. Musta' belonged to the original soite owners many a year ago."

The two spun at the unexpected voice.

It was Ted, the groundskeeper.

"Oh, hi, Ted. Didn't see you there!" Stan said.

"Oi gathered that," Ted answered in his slow Suffolk accent. "I was just clearing up over y'ere," pointing to one side, where a pile of early autumn leaves were gathered, "when I 'eard you comin'."

"What did you say this place was?" asked Anne.

"It used to be a formal garden, like Oi sayed. The grounds y'ere used to belong to the old Clifford Manor House, but it all got sold orf years ago. This would've been part of the old gardens."

When Stan looked, he could see the layout. As they walked around, Ted pointed out where the old flowerbeds and walkways were. "It must be over 50 years since anyone's done anything here. One day, when I get time, I want to have a run at this, but for now all I can do is tidy it."

Anne thanked Ted, and the two lovers walked slowly back towards the main building. As they left the clearing Anne looked back. She grabbed Stan's hand again, and they walked on, lost in each other.

- - - - - - - - - -

That afternoon Stan felt like a teenager, waiting for school to let out. He and Anne were going to take a run into London to grab a play. Anne had rung up and arranged some last minute tickets, but it meant they'd have to get up and go at close of business that night.

Stan had asked what the play was, but in truth it didn't matter to him. It turned out to be Tom Stoppard's "Rock and Roll", and it wasn't really Stan's 'thing', despite the title. Just being with Anne was enough.

Just as in the cinema before, Stan's abiding memory of the theatre had nothing to do with what he'd seen. It was what he'd sensed that he remembered, Anne's hand in his, sometimes her head on his shoulder. He'd had to ask her what shampoo she'd used as the smell was lovely. During the interval they'd dashed to the bar for drinks, Gin and Tonic for Anne and a Glenlivet for Stan. During the whole of the interval it seemed that Stan and Anne held hands, or were at least touching somewhere – an arm, an elbow, a hip perhaps. As they finally left the theatre Anne gave Stan a kiss to wake the dead.

They made their way home, to Stan's home this time. Anne took her overnight case out of the back of Stan's Mondeo and they walked quickly up the path to his front door together. They barely made it indoors before they were attacking one another, almost literally tearing the clothes off each other in their rush.

Laughing, Anne managed to pull away and ran up the stairs to Stan's bedroom. She slipped off her dress and yanked off her panties, then shoved Stan's hands out of the way as she pulled his clothes off.

The sex then was frenzied and uncontrolled, but later, when they woke up in the dawn twilight, they made leisurely, tender, caring love, finishing up with cuddling, nibbling of earlobes and nuzzling of necks.

The bulk of Saturday they spent in Stan's living room, watching films on DVD, listening to music – Stan had bought 'Renaissance' by The Opera Babes, and loved it – and reading, always close together, touching more often than not. They spoke little, in truth, but the love they had was demonstrated in the look, the touch. They decided that they might as well swap keys to each other's house. Anne suggested it, neither could see any objection, so they rode into town and had spare keys cut.

There was one job that had to be done, though, and it was something Stan really didn't want to face up to. But it was necessary.

He had to call Yves and Belinda and apologise, and ask if Anne and he could come on Monday.

He rang the number.

"Hello, YB Dance Studio, how can I help?" came the cultured reply. Stan recognised Belinda's voice.

"Hello Belinda, it's Stan Hinch."

"Oh. Wait a minute, Stan, I think Yves wants to speak with you."

Stan did NOT think that was a good sign, but at least she hadn't simply hung up. Maybe the disruption hadn't been that bad.

"Stanley? Yves Navarre here. I assume you wish to come back and dance?"

"Hello, Yves." Stan put his hand over the microphone and called upstairs, "Pick up, Anne!" He put the phone back to his ear, removed the hand over the microphone, and told Yves, "I've got Anne on the upstairs extension. Yes, Yves, we would very much like to come to the dance lesson on Monday, please."

Anne echoed the request. "Yves, Stan and I are very sorry about what happened."

"Yes, we are. And it won't happen again, Yves," Stan went on.

Yves' voice came down the line to them both. "Well. Look, your personal lives are your own affair, but when you disrupt a lesson like that it involves all of us at the class. I cannot allow anything like that to happen again. You understand this, I hope?"

"Of course, Yves." "Yes, Monsignor Navarre, of course." They both answered over each other.

"Hmph! Well. If I have both your words, Mr. Hinch, Miss Berkeley, that nothing like that will ever happen again... then I think we can extend an invitation to you. Young Miss Bottomley and Mr. Orbison have a right to their own personal lives as well. Both of them have made apologies and will be attending on Monday night. Once again, I trust you will make sure that nothing of the fracas that happened on Monday will happen again. Yes?"

Stan imagined himself being frogmarched out of the hall by Yves. He was certainly a powerful enough man, even at his age, to do it. Both Anne and Stan promised, then confirmed that they'd be on their best behaviour, and rang off.

Anne came down, with a wry grin on her face. "I haven't felt like THAT since I nicked a couple of iced buns from the tuck shop and got hauled up in front of the headmaster when I was twelve!"

"I know what you mean! Still, you can see his point. I hope they don't get cancellations after what happened last Monday night."

Anne was serious now. She approached Stan, put one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek. He leant into it.

"Stan, will you be okay with Tom and Denise there?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Yes, even if I have to grit my teeth. I'll have to – I want to learn the Tango with you."

"Hmm... Yes!" she answered. "What an idea – its one hell of a sexy dance. You'll be able to Tango me right into bed!"

"Why wait for the dance?" he asked her, and laughing, she answered – by pulling him up the stairs!

- - - - - - - - - -

They watched an old Rock Hudson/Doris Day film on TV, listened to some of the Enigma boxed set that Anne had bought, and that Stan had discovered he loved. Finally they fell asleep, together.

On Sunday morning they rode into town again and had breakfast at Iorio's. Elaine and Susan weren't there, since they didn't come back from their holiday until that afternoon, but the couple had fun – just the two of them together. They went home again, read a little – Stan had found Eric Flint's "1632" and loved it – listened some more and finally, reluctantly, Anne went home – "I have housework that won't do itself, Stan – and so do you!. Time to get the vacuum out, the dishwasher going, and get some laundry done!"

Since Stan couldn't deny any of that, he kissed Anne and she turned and rode off back to her house. He watched until he could no longer see her, then went back inside and got on with his chores.

- - - - - - - - - -

On Monday morning Stan strolled into reception and brightly called out to Elaine, "Good morning!"

"Ooh, someone's in a good mood!" she answered him. "Some of us have just come back from a week away. Some of us would rather still be away, in fact!"

Stan grinned at her, and she was smiling right back at him. It took a lot to upset Elaine when her relationship was going well, which it obviously was.

"How is Susan?" Stan asked her. "Susan's lovely, Stan!" Elaine replied with an outrageous wink, and Stan laughed aloud.

"You would know, Elaine... You would know! Actually," Stan theatrically looked left and right, "I think she's lovely too. Shame she's not interested, you might have a rival!"

Elaine giggled. "I think Susan likes you, but she doesn't desire you, Stan! Something to do with being the wrong gender! Now maybe Anne on the other hand..."

The two friends laughed again, then Stan walked through into his office. As he sat at his desk Elizabeth watched him from her seat.

"You obviously had a much better weekend than you had a week leading up to it, Stanley. Made up, I assume?"

"You know what they say about assuming, Elizabeth – but yes, you're correct. Anne and I have made up. Extensively and often!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, then she stood up. "I think I'd better get you a glass of water to cool you down, Stan. You'll be flirting with me next! She's good for you, I can tell you that!"

"She's here, and the last thing she needs is Stan flirting with another love rival! Hello, Elizabeth. Good morning!"

Anne had appeared behind Elizabeth, who whirled around in her chair to look. Then Elizabeth turned back to him and said, "Oh! Oh, you! You didn't warn me, did you! You – you – rotter!"

Elizabeth wasn't really upset – her wide smile and laughing eyes testified to that. But that didn't stop her from throwing a wadded up piece of paper at Stan!

"I just wanted to say, 'turnabout's fair play,' Stan, and I'll pick you up from your house tonight. Okay?"

"Of course, Anne, whatever you say." Stan was still suppressing a chuckle at Elizabeth's reaction.

"Don't forget that, Stan!" she said with a giggle of her own, before walking off through reception back in the direction of the Lab.

"Are you going to the dance class tonight Stan?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Yup. Tango tonight, I'm looking forward to it. Of course, we both had to be very, very nice to the Navarres and promise to be very, very good. But yes, we're both going."

"What about Denise?"

"Denise will be there, with Tom. Well, I expect so, anyway, unless by some happy chance she's seen her error. But according to the guy who runs the place, Yves – Have I told you that? – they'll both be there tonight."

"Will you be okay, Stan?

"Yes, I will, Elizabeth. I'm not letting that Tom come between Anne and me again. What about you and James?" he asked Elizabeth.

"Not this weekend. I visited my son Harry, and James was in Ireland with his niece. So you can't live a vicarious love affair through me – you'll have to have your own. It seems to me that you're doing just fine that way!"

"Yes, Elizabeth, I am, I am! Anne and I had a good weekend." He fell silent for a moment, remembering.

"Anyway..." Stan said, finally, and the two friends go on with their work.

The weekend had allowed Stan and Anne to come to terms with their love for one another. There remained a problem between them that was still unresolved.




Equal Shares Ch. 25



Denise.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 26



Monday night. Stan was late – he'd been pulled into a 'five to five' meeting with Percy, much to his annoyance - and didn't get home until well after his normal time. He hurried, but Anne still rang his doorbell before he'd finished getting dressed.

"Come in, Anne!" he called, and Anne used her key to open the door. She found Stan sitting at the bottom of the stairs, bare-chested, with one sock on and trying to get the other one on his still-damp foot. She couldn't help but laugh, and Stan saw the funny side too, but they were late leaving.

Anne provided the solution - she drove. Well, that is to say, Anne piloted her car. She seemed unaffected by Stan's grimaces, the tension in his arms or the frequent use of the non-existent brake pedal his foot was continually searching for.

On the other hand, Stan had to admit that Anne drove with great skill. Even in the gathering gloom of a mid-September evening the car was expertly placed in exactly the right place at all times. Anne didn't even have to exceed the speed limits – much.

They arrived at the school a few minutes early. Stan sighed theatrically and Anne turned to him and said sweetly, "That's how you drive a sports car, Stan. I told you we'd get here in time!"

Stan was wise enough not to make any further comment.

They walked in through the main entrance and were greeted by Yves. Stan was pleased and relieved to find that the greeting was just as warm as always. Anne's black-and-gold dress that she wore again may have had something to do with it, but Stan imagined Yves was too professional to pay too much attention to that.

They went through the normal formalities and Yves invited them through. His one concession to the previous week was when he told Anne, quietly, "Miss Bottomley and Mr. Orbison are here already." He said no more, merely gesturing them on.

Stan let Anne go in front of him through the doorway into the hall, and they both looked to see who was there. Stan quickly located Tom and Denise, to their left, and was a little surprised to see Denise catch his eye and nod slightly. Tom merely gave him one of his trademark smirks.

Having found Denise and Tom on the left, Stan wasn't surprised to see Pamela on the other side. She greeted Stan warmly, and gave Anne a peck on the cheek. Belinda was there as well, in the middle of the hall, preparing music.

Yves entered the hall and moved to Belinda, exchanging a few words. Then, before he began the lesson, Yves addressed them all.

"The Tango is a very passionate dance, in its original form it was about prostitutes and their pimps, very, very sexual. It's progressed since then of course, but still, it's full of emotion and sensuality, of exaggerated moves and, yes, plain lust." He nodded at them all as he finished that last part.

"Now, in this beginner's class we're only going to teach the basic moves, what we call the Eight-Count Basic. This is actually technically American Tango, not the international ballroom type, but since I doubt any of you are expecting to compete in the next two weeks, that won't matter, and it's easier, we think, to learn – and to teach!"

"But remember, everyone," interjected Belinda, "the Tango is theatre, you have to let yourselves go, to feel it. That's why we teach it last, so that you're already used to dance, to movement. Now, I think we're ready to start?"

Before the lesson proper began, Yves came over to Stan and Anne, and spoke to them.

"I hope you realize that with you four we're taking a bit of a chance, hmm? This is a dance step that requires emotion; but it has to be controlled emotion. Please, no repetition, yes?"

Anne nodded, and Stan told him "That's fine, Yves. There'll be no problems."

Stan looked over and saw that Belinda was talking to Tom and Denise, who had serious faces of their own. It appeared that they'd received a similar message.

- - - - - - - - - -

Yves and Belinda showed the class how to Tango. Eight-Count Basic Tango is the classic 'slow, slow, quick-quick, slow' that everyone's heard of. It's actually more like 'walk, walk, step-step-together', but it's not the steps, it's the character of the dance that's important. Feet are picked up and placed onto the floor using a sharp staccato action. Sway, rise & fall, and continuous body flight should be avoided; they aren't in character with the dance.

Stan found it difficult. Not the steps, they were easy once he'd got used to it, but relaxing into it, letting his body lead. Belinda came and partnered him for a while, and with her encouragement and gentle persuasion he began to see, and feel, what was needed.

At one point he was able to spare a glance when Anne, partnered by a guy Stan didn't know well but who'd been to each of the lessons, danced across their path. She was clearly enjoying herself, but didn't look much more comfortable than Stan.

At the break, Anne said to Stan, "I'd thought with the ballet that this would be easy. It's not – I just find it difficult to get the right balance of tension and relaxation, I think."

"You've been thinking about it, haven't you? That's my Anne, analysing everything," Stan replied with a smile.

"Hey, it helps if you can think, you know!"

Stan and Anne hadn't actively avoided Tom and Denise, but it certainly seemed to have turned out that way. Stan stole a glance over towards the pair, to find Tom standing next to Denise, one hand resting on her hip, while Denise was in agitated conversation with another lady. Denise looked happy, and Stan was pleased to see that.

He didn't notice Anne watching him.

The second half of the lesson was very much like a repeat of the first. Stan still found it hard to get the right snap to his moves, while Anne was, herself, getting a little frustrated.

Towards the end Stan and Anne were able to partner each other. Stan found that dancing the Tango with someone who you connect with was a greater experience than even dancing with Belinda. They blended better together, and Stan was even able to execute a snappy layback at the end. They stood and clapped with everyone as Belinda and Yves showed how thrillingly it could be done, then wished everyone a good night and hurried out to Anne's car.

They passed Denise and Tom on the way out. Stan noticed that Denise looked happy and a little flushed. 

Tom had a wolf's smile.

Anne was ahead of him, pulling his arm, so Stan couldn't stop to ask Denise anything. Not that he could think what to ask, just that he wanted to ask her something...

But then he was outside in the cooler air. Anne, laughing, pulled him to her car, almost running to it.

Anne drove home quickly. Stan was, again, tense and a little white knuckled, but they got to his house in a very short time. He was a bit surprised when Anne turned the engine off and got out with him, but got the idea when she leant close and told him in a low purr, "Inside, Stan. Now!"

She quickly walked up the path. Stan fumbled in his pocket for the key, only to see Anne holding up her shiny new one, and unlock the door.

"Fix us some drinks while I freshen up, please, Stan?" she called as she walked quickly up the stairs.

Stan went to the kitchen and got some glasses and a bottle of white wine from the fridge. "I've only got a cheap Frascati, Anne!" he called, but Anne didn't answer, so he shrugged and put it on a tray anyway along with a shot glass and a tumbler of water.

In the living room Stan went to his drinks cabinet. 'I fancy a change' he thought to himself. He selected a Talisker, from the Isle of Skye. 

He went to the stereo and put on something new he'd found, the eponymously titled "Wolfmother". The hard edged rock poured out of the speakers, and he turned the volume down, caught between wishing he could turn it up and wishing Anne would be here.

Then there she was... her hands came around from behind him to embrace him as Anne nuzzled into his neck. He turned in her grasp and they kissed, hungrily.

"Mmm. What's got into you?" he asked, as they swayed together.

"I've discovered that dancing the Tango makes me horny!" Anne giggled, continuing, "Do you have any music for a Tango, Stan? I fancy dancing up a storm, with you!"

Stan smiled. "Wait a moment," he said, and turned back to his CD collection.

"You do realize that you could put that whole collection onto a single MP3 player, don't you?" she told him, as he searched through for a disc.

"Yes, but they... Umm. I was about to sound like my father. He told me that these new CD's didn't sound like the good old vinyl, you know! But you're right, I could. Mind you, I'd still want the CD – partly as primary source and partly for the artwork, in some of the cases at least. Aha!"

Stan held aloft the CD of ballroom dance music he'd bought back in July. "Yup! This has got half a dozen Tango tracks!"

Stan's living room was small and cluttered, and difficult to dance in, so it wasn't long before they fell, laughing, onto the couch. Stan stopped laughing and kissed Anne.

Anne kissed him right back. He felt her hand behind his head, pulling him to her, and his own arm, trapped underneath them, squeezed and pulled in response. Anne's tongue wormed its way into his mouth, duelling with his own, and Stan started to lose himself in the sensations, overwhelmed by the scent, the feel, the taste of the woman in his arms.

Anne pulled away, blowing a stray strand of hair way from her mouth, looking at Stan wide-eyed. Standing, she reached for the zip of her dress and pulled it down, shimmying as she did, the dress pooling like oil at her feet. Seeing Stan's face, she grinned a moment and threw a cliché model's pose, right hand behind head, left at her hip, throwing her body into a figure 'S'. Standing there in a lacy black half-bra and matching panties, her blonde hair in complete contrast to the outfit, Stan was once again struck by her beauty.

One eyebrow lifted. Anne queried, "Are you going to join me, or...?" Stan lost his balance as he tried to stand up and take off his shirt and tie all at the same time, which gave Anne a fit of giggles, and then she stretched out a hand for him. Once he was standing, Anne reached for his tie, deftly removing it before undoing his shirt buttons.

She was swaying in front of him now, in time to the music that was still playing. Stan responded by moving with her, while giving her space in which to work, placing his hands on Anne's hips. He leaned in to give her a kiss, and she responded before nudging him gently back as she continued to unbutton his shirt.

After the front was undone, Anne reached down and unfastened each of Stan's cufflinks, before removing the shirt altogether. Stan faked a pose of his own, both hands behind his head, his stomach tightened in a futile attempt to reduce the slight paunch. Anne giggled a little again, and Stan smiled, then Anne's hands were at his belt, undoing it and drawing it through the loops slowly, before dropping it on top of his shirt on the floor beside him. A few seconds later his trousers were on the floor, and Stan was trying, unsuccessfully, to remove them while still wearing his shoes.

Anne, giggling a little, removed her remaining clothing while he sat on his sofa. Stan tore off his shoes leaving them tangled in his trousers, before drawing off each sock in a single pull and finally taking off his briefs.

Anne swayed over to him before sinking to all fours and spreading his knees apart. Her hand reached for his groin and took his erect penis, gripping it lightly and stroking, gently at first. She looked up at Stan, said "Time to christen the living room, I think!" and slurped him into her mouth.

Stan reached forward with both hands, gently stroking the side of her head and her ears, as Anne went to work on his cock. He was so turned on, and now the blonde was working her way slowly, slowly further and further down his penis before lifting, sucking and swirling her tongue and then repeating the action. Stan knew he'd not be lasting long like this. Dancing with Anne had been an unbelievably sexy experience; he thought they were both pent up and now needed release.

However, Anne was having none of that, he soon found. As he began to lift his hips, trying to thrust more of himself in her mouth, she stopped, gripping him tightly at the base. Anne waited for him to subside before looking up with a devilish grin on her face, and then she started again.

"God!" was all that Stan could say as he felt Anne's tongue on his now sensitive glans. He flinched slightly, and Anne stopped that, instead running her tongue down the underside of his penis, jacking slowly, sensuously with the right hand, leaning on her left for support.

Anne couldn't manage to take his whole length, but she tried mighty hard to go as far as she could this time. She hunched over him to vary the angle, finally stopping as she gagged, then gagged again, using her hand to set the depth now as her head went back up his penis, her lips dragging and her cheeks hollowing. Before the downstroke Anne's lips opened a little wider and then closed around the head, still avoiding the glans, before she moved down, down again.

Now Anne went to work in earnest. Her head bobbed and her hand moved at the lower end of his cock, drawing him towards his climax. This time as she felt his hips buck she pulled up on his cock slightly, jacking with her hand, sucking and now swirling her tongue again.

Stan erupted. There was no other word for it, and he had no conscious control over his body as he heaved his hips up, feeling his semen jetting into Anne's willing, nay anxious mouth.

Finally Stan subsided back onto his sofa, spent. Anne waited for him to open his eyes and look before she swallowed, finally climbing up onto the sofa next to him. Stan took her in his arms and they kissed. He tasted his semen on her lips, in her mouth, and found it incredibly erotic.

"Hmmm. I think it's my turn now," he told her as he pushed her back onto the sofa. Anne pushed her hips forward and opened her legs as Stan slid to his knees between them. Anne was very turned on, a fact which Stan was able to verify instantly. Her arousal had her almost gushing. Stan tasted his beautiful lady again, running his tongue lightly over her pubic hair, gathering the dew.

He placed his hands on her inner thighs, spreading her a little more as he quested further with his tongue. He nibbled with his lips, he deliberately bumped with his nose, he played games with his tongue, always moving over her. He licked at the crease between her inner and outer labia, then ran his tongue down to her portal and tasted there some more, gathering her moisture and bringing it up towards her now swollen clitoris.

He flicked his tongue up, lightly catching it before swirling around her aroused and stiffened organ. He went back down, playing figure eights with his tongue, moving his head from side to side, using his whole face from chin to nose to increase her arousal. He kept at it, sometimes running his tongue down to gather more of her juices, then working his way up to the erect nubbin, teasingly almost-but-not-quite touching it directly for a moment or two before stimulating it with his tongue again.

Anne stiffened and cried out sharply for a moment, then her thighs crushed together, before she relaxed, releasing his head. Stan looked up, finding her eyes still unfocussed, and with a grin leant forward again.

Anne's startled cry of "Oh!" rang out as Stan began to lift her back up the slope again. This time he used both hands, raising one up to play with her breasts, caressing each of them, while with his other hand he worked a finger inside her, slowly, slowly, twisting it back and forth, wiggling a little. Stan was discovering what worked and what didn't with Anne, and he'd already found that he could work her up this way, as well as the very wonderful ability of hers to come more than once.

Anne hadn't come all the way down from her first, and it wasn't long before Stan brought her back up to another. This time he barely stopped at all, instead he merely moved to just licking and playing with her labia and breasts for a short while. Then she felt him again, his chin resting on the finger he'd reinserted, then lifting slightly as he raised his aim to go over the clitoris and stimulate from above it, swirling his tongue around it as she'd done to his penis.

It didn't take her long to cum, and cum hard. Again she felt herself clenching, she cried out involuntarily and for a moment lost herself... then as she came back to life she found Stan still hard at work between her legs. Anne was too sensitive now though, and she pushed him away with a whimper and rolled to one side.

Stan was at first, it seemed, determined, but Anne held him off, wide-eyed, murmuring "no, no..." before he allowed her to settle and bask in her own afterglow.

Stan crawled up onto the couch, his mouth and neck exhausted, but feeling very happy indeed. Once more he marvelled at how much he loved seeing Anne in orgasm, and how much more he loved bringing her there.

For a while they cuddled there on the sofa. Finally, however, Stan stirred and got up to fix a drink each – something long, cool and non-alcoholic, he thought. Some fruit squash would do fine. He padded into the kitchen – drawing the blinds when he realized his neighbours would be able to see in – and got some ice into two glasses, poured the squash and topped up with water from the filter in the fridge.

Anne was just about sitting up when Stan emerged from the kitchen, holding the glasses. Wordlessly he handed one over and they both took a long honest swig before he sat down next to the woman he loved.

"I guess I don't have to ask how you feel about the Tango!" he said. Anne just swatted at him with the back of her left hand.

- - - - - - - - - -

At the same time, not very far away, a similar scenario was unfolding. Similar, but not the same...

"Denise, you know how I feel about you. You're perfect!"

"Yes, Tom, and I feel a lot for you too, you know that."

They were in Denise's living room, Tom on her sofa, Denise standing in front of him, handing him a drink. Denise was holding her Vodka Lemon in her other hand.

She swivelled and sat next to Tom, who leaned over and kissed her cheek before sipping his own Rum and Coke.

They sat for a moment sipping their drinks before Tom asked, "Can you put some music on please, Denise?"

Denise found a channel on the radio that they could both stand, and when she sat back again Tom leaned in and kissed her on the lips. It was insistent, urgent and Denise moaned into his mouth as she responded.

She took over the kiss, leaning into it and taking Tom's hand in hers. Then she pulled back, carefully setting her drink down on the table beside the sofa. Denise had to make a decision now – before things went too far, assuming they hadn't already. 

"Tom, what sort of relationship are you expecting?"

Tom sat back and looked at Denise, obviously surprised at the question.

"Well," he replied after a moment, "A physical one, certainly, Den. Are you asking if I want to be more than just a boyfriend already?"

"No, of course not...well, yes. No. Oh, stop it! You've got it wrong. Look, I don't just do casual, okay? If all you want's a roll in the hay, then I'm not the one you'll get it with."

"I can do more than just casual, Den. I can do lots more. If you want something that's longer-lasting, I can do that, you know."

At that point Tom leaned over and kissed her again, and Denise became lost in the sensuality of the kiss, of the moment, of the aftermath of the dancing. She wanted, needed someone, and Tom was here, he was now, and... his hand was on her breast, his kiss was expertly winding her up.




Equal Shares Ch. 26



All else faded for Denise as her body responded faster than her mind. Tom was insistent and Denise became compliant, letting him roam over her body, still fully dressed but now finding places where skin-on-skin contact was possible, and sending thrills through her.

She felt his fingers on the catch of her dress, and then the last moment had passed, as she felt the fabric part as the zip came down.

Denise moaned into Tom's mouth, felt his fingers knowingly stroke the skin on her back and moaned some more. He knew exactly the right moves, exactly the right amount of pressure to use. He skilfully manoeuvred her with subtle pressure to lean forward so he could ease the dress down, and then flicked the catch on her bra one-handed. He muttered in appreciation as her breasts came into view then, breaking the kiss, bent down to instead kiss their upper slopes.

His left hand came into contact with a nipple, ratcheting up her arousal even further. Now Denise didn't just give in, didn't just let him take her; she was willing and took full part in their lovemaking. She egged him on and he did, there on her sofa. She managed the presence of mind to make sure he reached into his wallet to extract a condom. Tom was a skilful lover, more so than she'd guessed, and before long she was shuddering in her orgasm as he was thrusting inside her. He came, grunting and panting in his lust, and Denise felt his penis swelling inside her, felt the condom filling, felt everything.

Tom fell away from her. Denise realized she hadn't noticed him undress; yet they were both nude in her living room. Tom got his breath back, and then he reached for his clothes, discarded here and there on the floor where they'd been flung. Still neither of them had said an intelligible word since Tom's earlier declaration.

Denise reached for her underwear before she leaked more onto her couch. Tom dressed, reached for Denise and finally said in a low, almost commanding voice, "I'll see you again Friday shall I, Denise? I'll pick you up here."

"Yes," Denise replied, kissing him. He accepted a short kiss then was standing, turning, going. Just before he opened her door Tom said, "Bye, Denise," somehow stretching out the last part of her name into an almost-hiss, and then he was gone.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 27



Denise sat in her living room, trying to collect herself. 

Tom. He'd made love to her -- no, he'd fucked her, skilfully, but it wasn't making love. So he'd fucked her and then he'd left.

Denise walked slowly, a little carefully, up the stairs to her room. She put on her bathrobe, and sat on the edge of the bed.

Denise began to cry, softly at first, then with increasingly loud and violent sobs, as she threw herself onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and howling into it. Her mother hadn't raised an idiot. Denise knew without the need for further proof that Tom had played her beautifully. He must have been overjoyed when she'd thrown herself at him like that.

He'd made her feel good, she'd been willing and had taken her full part, she reflected once the crying jag had finished. She actually felt a tingle in her belly when she thought back to the physical act, but Denise knew there was no relationship there. 'At least he'd used a condom,' she thought.

Denise sat up, wiped her eyes and considered. 'Maybe after a bath, I'll feel better.'

So, she ran a bath, put in some bath oil as the last of the water was entering and lit a scented candle by the side. Denise eased in and sighed, luxuriating in the hot water. For a while she simply lay there, not thinking, just feeling the tension run out of her body as she lay in the water.

Finally she refocused her mind. Tom. What to do about him?

'He's skilful, he got me off fine,' she thought, one hand idly playing with her pubic hair under the water. 'What was it he said? I can do more than just casual. Then he just about made me explode, and ran off... what do I do now?'

'Why'd he run off? Just some sorta I don't do after sex cuddles reaction?' she wondered. 'Could there be more to it? Was it just I've had what I wanted, now I'm outta here!' the thought continued.

Well. In theory, she had another date with him, she remembered. She could keep the date, and see how it went from there.

But in her heart, unacknowledged but there, she knew. Tom was a mistake. Now, she had to get to the stage of admitting it to herself.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning Anne drove Stan to work, and they walked through into reception together. Elaine was there, as usual, and she smiled when she saw the couple walk in together.

"Hi you two! Seems like you're really over your troubles!"

Anne glanced at her hand, fingers entwined in Stan's, and then looked up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"I decided that he was wrong, he agreed with me, now we're okay!" she told the blonde receptionist with a smile. Elaine giggled and told her "Well, he's a slow learner, but I'm sure you'll have him trained soon!"

"Humph! I've got better places to go to be insulted than here..." grinned Stan. "You lot gang up on a poor fellow like that, he doesn't stand a chance!"

"You better believe it, buddy!" called Elaine as Stan left for his office after giving Anne a final peck on the cheek.

Once in the office he was a little surprised not to see Elizabeth, but was reassured by the fact that her PC was switched on. Stan turned on his own machine and went to get coffee.

On his return he found Elizabeth just coming back into the office from the test area with a sample of devices. She saw Stan, took in his bright, sunny expression -- so different from last week -- and exclaimed "Oh! You and Anne?"

Stan couldn't help but smile. "Yes, we're over that patch. We each know we love the other, and that's the main thing, all else fades in comparison."

Stan sat and thought for a moment, smiling a little. Elizabeth watched and waited for him to continue, a slight smile on her own lips.

"Have you ever danced the Tango, Elizabeth?"

"No. Remember? I told you before, my Mum & Dad did, but I never learned ballroom."

"Well," he said, his smile widening, "let's just say that, knowing you, you'd have enjoyed it. It gets the juices flowing..." he said with a wink.

"Oh, I can believe it -- but I do believe that some good Rock'n'Roll can have the same effect, Stan!"

"Now," she went on in a more serious voice, "about these test results..."

The two got on with their work.

- - - - - - - - - -

At lunchtime, Elizabeth and Denise once again ate together. Denise had been looking forward to being able to talk to her older friend. She felt she needed to talk through her situation.

At first however, she was somehow reluctant to start. Elizabeth, sensing that there was something on the younger woman's mind, waited while the remaining salad disappeared from their plates, as she obviously thought through what to say.

Finally, Elizabeth's patience ran out.

"Denise? You obviously want to say something, but not a word...?"

"Mmm? Oh! Oh, yes. Um." Denise drew a deep breath.

"It's Tom. Last night we made love, well after the dance we were sort've fired up, you know?" Elizabeth nodded, thinking of Stan that morning, but letting Denise continue.

"Well, one thing lead to another last night, and it happened. He's pretty darn persuasive, and he certainly knows his way around a woman's body, but when we finished he... he just simply got up and left, after telling me we had a date on Friday.

"I mean, I really enjoyed myself with him, he's got plenty of skill, and is obviously experienced. No coercion or anything, we knew what we were doing, but that thing of just leaving... I just don't think he's in it for the long term."

"Well, it's not a good sign, Denise, is it? I suppose there could have been other reasons -- did he say he had to be somewhere else, or anything?" Elizabeth answered.

"No. He just got dressed and left."

"He told you that you had a date on Friday?"

"Well," considered Denise, "it wasn't quite like that. He asked, but in a way that made it sound like I'd already agreed."

"Are you going to meet him, then"

"I don't honestly know, Elizabeth. I just don't honestly know."

Denise took a sip of her fruit juice, then continued, soberly, "But probably yes. If only physically, he made me feel good." She smiled at Elizabeth and finished with a saucy grin, "Tingly."

"Well, if he thinks he can use you, he may find that the tables are turned, then!" answered Elizabeth with a widening smile.

The two giggled and finished their meal.

- - - - - - - - - -

After her lunch, Denise went to see Elaine in reception.

"Howdy!" she said to the younger blonde.

"Hello Denise -- how are you getting on?" asked Elaine.

"Oh, I'm fine, fine. I'm just mulling over man problems."

"I don't have those!" grinned Elaine.

"No, but you have to put up with your own hormones and those of another woman!" giggled Denise. They both laughed -- it had been a constant refrain between them while they'd been together, how it was either twice the fun or...

"So, what's the man problem then -- aside from acute testosterone poisoning?" asked Elaine.

Denise outlined the night before to Elaine, in the same way that she had to Elizabeth.

"So, I've got a date on Friday. He's coming to pick me up -- unless I cancel him," she finished.

Elaine was quiet for a moment or two. The she said "Well, you can use him to scratch your itch for the time being, but it seems to me that you've already made up your mind that he's not going to do for you in the longer term."

"You're right, of course."

"Actually, I think you need to be thinking hard about whether you want to see him at all. What do you know about him?"

"Only that he goes to the dance classes, he's funny, charming, experienced and skilful in bed -- though we never actually got to bed! -- and not that much else."

"Just be careful, Denise. That's all I'll say. I don't know him at all, but the impression you give is that you trust him as far as you can throw him. Make sure that if you're going to keep seeing him, it's on your terms."

"Oh, I will, Elaine, I will!"

Just then the phone rang, and Elaine had to answer it. Denise went back to her office and prepared to get back to work.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise had made good progress on the documentation project, and now needed to show Stan the early working prototype of the interface she'd developed. She noticed that Stan was less nervous around her than before, and also that she felt more at ease around him. She wasn't sure why, but perhaps it was to do with his protectiveness, and the way she now felt about Tom?

They'd been working quietly together for about half an hour when Denise heard a soft sound as someone coughed gently behind her. She looked back, to find Anne standing there, with a slight smile on her face.

"Don't mind me, I just wanted to check something with Stan," she told Denise. "Stan, d'you fancy some Sea Bass tonight? I thought it would make a change."

Stan had turned in his seat, and answered, "Yes, I'd like that. Round yours?"

Anne had tilted her head back a little and laughed, "Yes, Stan, unless you fancy cooking? Actually, strike that... I don't fancy your cooking!" 

She'd looked back at Denise. "He's a really rotten cook you know. Hopeless in the kitchen!"

"Really? He seems so... competent. What other little faults have you been hiding, Stan?" Denise asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well, let's just say it's a good job you haven't asked me to maintain your car, shall we?" Stan grinned.

"Hey! You never told me about that one!" cried Anne.

"Well, it's not in my contract..."

"What contact!" she'd cried, louder.

"Precisely!"

All three had burst into laughter.

- - - - - - - - - -

While working together the next day, talk had come around to going out that evening.

"Anne and I are going to Tennants tonight. We felt like eating out."

"You mean, she didn't feel like cooking all the time, because you're too lazy to cook, don't you!?" replied Denise.

"Believe me, Denise, you don't want to eat my cooking unless you're really hungry!" he'd told her.

"Oh, you poor, helpless man, you!" she'd said. Then she patted him on the shoulder. She went on, "I guess I ought to go to the Mitre, and meet up with Susan and Elaine. It's been a while since I've had a Wednesday night there."

"I think that's a good idea -- you look like you need to relax a little."

"Huh? You stopped passing out the compliments and begun on the insults, now?" she'd asked, archly.

"Um. Can I have another go at that? Please?"

Denise had then, with great and exaggerated dignity, nodded assent.

"I meant that, despite the fact that you and I are getting along better than we have since, well, since your holiday," he'd said, tactfully not using the word 'Anne', "You seem a little, well, edgy at times. A night out and a drink would probably do you good."

"Well done Mr. I-can-see-the-bleedin-obvious," she told him a little more heatedly than she'd intended. She went on more gently, "Sorry. I guess I'm a little distracted."

"Um. Is it the-subject-that-shall-not-be-mentioned?"

"Probably!" she told him, now smiling. "So let's not mention it any more, or we'll get into trouble again. Now, Let's get back to business. You asked for access to the system from from outside the company..."

'Back to work,' groaned Stan, inwardly.

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening Denise, wearing a quite sexy low-cut white top and a fairly short matching skirt, entered the Mitre and looked around. Sure enough, Elaine was there with Susan.

Susan spotted her first, and waved her over. Denise nodded, and indicated the bar with a questioning look. Susan mouthed "Cider, Two" and Denise nodded.

She bought the drinks, including a bitter lemon for herself -- driving -- and went over to sit with her friends.

Elaine was feeding peanuts to Susan, teasing her with them. The two girls were giggling and obviously enjoying themselves. Denise joined in, and the three of them were tossing peanuts, feeding each other drinks and generally having great, but slightly messy fun with each other. Denise was pleased as punch to see her friends relaxed and having fun this way.

Elaine giggled.

"Knock-knock!"

"Who's there?" chorused Susan and Denise, wide grins plastered on their faces.

"Abby!"

Denise was already groaning, but she and Susan looked at each other and, together, said "Abby Who?"

Denise sang, "Abby birthday to yoooouuu!"

The other two both threw peanuts at her.

"Your turn!" she said, pointing at Denise, who frowned a moment, the came up with one.

"Knock Knock!"

"Who's there!" the two lovers said, looking at each other.

"General Lee!"

"General Lee who?"

"Generally, I don't tell jokes!" Denise finished, with a punch in the air.

"And we can see why!" laughed Susan, with a pronounced groan. "Why do we tell knock-knock jokes, they're all awful!"

"Oh, because as bad as they are, they're fun, too!" said Elaine.

Susan said, "What did King Kong say when he got a wrong number?"

Denise and Elaine said together, "I don't know, what did he say?"

"King Kong Ring Wrong!" Susan announced, and Denise hurled a napkin at her while Elaine pounced on her and told her to "Stop, stop, please stop, I'll do anything, but make the pain go away!"

"Okay, I know how to do that," smiled Susan. Elaine looked at her lustfully, but Susan told "Later, you naughty girl. I meant drinks! Denise?"

"Just a bitter lemon please, Susan," Denise answered. "I've got to drive."

Just then Denise looked towards the bar where she saw a new arrival and his date. His back was to her, but he looked familiar...

"TOM!"

The man turned, and yes, it was indeed Tom. His eyes widened in recognition at the same time as the slender brunette on his arm turned to look in her direction.

Denise was moving. She hadn't even noticed she'd stood, and just barely heard a buzz in her ears from those around her. She came towards Tom, who was smoothly trying to talk to the brunette while moving away from the bar, but a crowd had walked in behind him, and he had difficulty getting away.

Denise reached him, looked him in the eye, then glanced briefly aside at the brunette.

"So, long-term for you is all of two days, is it?" she asked him.

Tom ignored the jibe. "Denise, how nice to see you. This is Samantha. Samantha, Denise."

"Er, Tom, who is..." the girl started to ask him.

Denise, having reached the bar, with scarcely a glance picked up a drink that the barman had just placed there and threw it in Tom's face, then calmly replaced the glass back on the counter. She turned back to the tall brunette and her spluttering escort, now with fury contorting her face. She told her, "I'm just the girl he had SEX with Monday night, that's ALL!" and slapped him around the head. Tom's head snapped to one side under the blow. Denise's face was a furious mask, but then it broke and she started to cry, slapping at Tom's arms with both hands.

"You bastard! You even made a date with me for Friday! You fuckin' bastard!"

Elaine and Susan had reached her at this point. Samantha took one more look at her, looked at Tom and hissed "Goodbye, Tom!" and then turned on her heel and left. Susan took one arm, Elaine the other, and they held her. Tom, with a pint of beer all down the front of his shirt and staining his jacket and trousers, with a clear mark on one cheek and an expression of utter bewilderment on his face, turned and fled.

Elaine looked at the barman who'd started to replace the pint, and said, "I'll get that." The guy who's beer it had been told her "No, that's fine, I think it qualifies as a good cause!" and Elaine nodded, gratefully. Between them Susan and she steered the now sobbing Denise back to their table.

Elaine looked a question at Susan, who nodded assent, and she scooted around and sat next to Denise, holding the girl's head against her shoulder as she cried. Susan looked a little shocked, Denise was inconsolable, but Elaine was furious.

"Bastards like that make me glad I don't fancy men!" she snapped at Susan. Susan, however, though shocked still kept her equilibrium a little better.

"There's some in the sisterhood just as bad, Laney," she lamented. "We both know that."

"Yeah, well, I'm right about him being a bastard, though!" Elaine countered, rubbing Denise's shoulder as the redhead wept. This went on some time.

Denise pulled herself together... finally. She sat up, looked at Elaine, then across at Susan. Both ladies looked at their friend with concern in their eyes. Denise's face was puffy and red and her cheeks were wet. There was what Susan thought was a cute little bubble on her nose.

Denise sniffed a couple of times, and then said, "God, I must look a mess. I'm going to the ladies to freshen up. I'll be back in a minute."

Elaine offered to go with her. Susan said she'd stay and watch the drinks. They were gone a while before Susan saw them coming back. Denise looked a little better, at least she was smiling, but Elaine was obviously concerned about something.

She asked Susan, "Suze, Denny asked me something, and I said she'd better ask you. I said I couldn't decide this one for you. Denise?"

Denise looked embarrassed. Susan couldn't quite work out what about, plus there was something else behind her eyes that she couldn't identify.

"Susan, can I come over and stay with you guys tonight? And maybe longer? I really don't want to stay alone in my house."

Susan focussed on Denise, her face becoming neutral.

"Stay with?"

"Spare room, or even on the couch. I just don't want to be alone, is all."

Susan looked at Elaine, whose face was carefully schooled into as neutral an expression as she could manage. Nonetheless, she could see that Elaine wanted her to say yes.

"Okay, Denise. You know where?"

"Not really, I know you live on the Waterwood estate, but not your address."

Elaine had moved in with Susan after Denise had split with her. Denise knew the phone number, and had Elaine's cell number, but had never learned exactly where she lived.

"Right. Well, let's go. You can drive us to your house and pick up some overnight stuff, and then we'll direct you to our place." Finally her expression softened, and she looked at both of the other women in turn. "You, Elaine, will be the death of me, I swear. And you, Denise, are welcome into my house. You can have the spare room and we'll sort everything else out later. Okay? Both of you?"

Elaine gave Susan a tight hug, and a kiss. Denise watched, seeing the two women embrace. She still felt angry and betrayed by Tom, but at least, she thought, 'I can get through this. One night at a time. 

'I can do this... one night at a time.'



Equal Shares Ch. 28



Susan's place turned out to be a small two-bedroom apartment in a popular estate near the town centre. Denise pulled up outside and shut down the Streetka, letting out the two girls in the back. 

Susan walked to her front door and opened it, gesturing for Denise to go in.

"Your room's at the far end, on the right. Ours is opposite, on the left. D'you want a coffee or anything before we go to bed?"

"No thanks, Susan. Not coffee, I'll have enough trouble sleeping."

"I don't think we've got any hot chocolate..." Susan teased, eyes sparkling through her spectacles.

"God! I haven't had that since I was a kid! No, I don't think I need that either."

"Well, in this case then Doctor Susan prescribes some medicinal ethanol, flavoured to suit. You fancy a rum 'n cola too, Laney?"

"I could be persuaded," said Elaine, as they turned left and walked into Susan's living room. "No ice, though, Suze."

Denise looked around. Susan's living room was awash with stuff. There were bunnies of various types on shelves all along one wall, on the floor in front of it and in one of the chairs. Boxed sets of DVDs were piled up, like bricks, adjoining the television. The carpet, where she could see it, was a slightly ratty looking Victorian pattern, the walls themselves could do with new wall paper and the coffee table was piled high with books of various kinds. There were posters on the wall, including ones of Xena and Willow, but also including a huge 30x20 photo of a horse, and another similar sized photo of Susan and Elaine together with Laney's head resting on Susan's shoulder.

"Just clear the toys out of the chair, Denise. We've got far too many bunnies -- we both like them," said Elaine.

"I remember you always did," replied Denise, "I assume that's Susan's horse?"

"Yes, Patrick. I swear somedays I think she loves him more than me!" Elaine said, though her smile told otherwise.

"Elaine, could you give me a hand?" Susan called from the kitchen. Elaine looked puzzled, but said "Sure, Suze!" and scurried off.

She came back a moment later and sat on the settee, with a slight anticipatory smile on her face. Denise looked a question, but Elaine refused to answer, just sitting there with her slight, enigmatic smile.

Susan returned and handed a glass to Denise, then sat down next to Elaine on the settee. Denise cleared a small corner of room on the coffee table, put the glass down and, after clearing out half a dozen bunnies, slumped down into the chair.

"Thanks, Susan."

"It's not just me who lives here, Denise, Elaine too."

"Yes, but I know who I had to ask, really. It was good of you. I know you're taking me on trust, a little. But I just really, really didn't want to be alone in the house tonight."

Denise sat still for a moment, trying to stay composed. "It's not that I'm afraid he'll come there for me, I just want to be with someone who'll care for me!" Her face crumpled again, and tears began forming in her eyes. "Lately I can't seem to keep anyone close! Everyone leaves me!"

It was Susan who got up, crossed to the chair, knelt in front of it and held onto Denise. She didn't say anything, just held her, stroking her shoulder, her arm, her leg until the sobs quieted. Then she stood, extending her arm towards Denise.

"I think we all know what you need, Denise. Come on."

- - - - - - - - - -

Susan led her to the corridor, turned left, then left again -- into her own room, the one she shared with Elaine.

"Are you sure, Suze?" Elaine asked quietly. Susan merely nodded while pushing a barely comprehending Denise to sit on the bed.

"Time to get undressed, sweetie," Susan told Denise. Denise shook her head, not believing. "You mean, you're going to -"

"Denny," said Elaine from the bedside as she moved to a position where she could help remove Denise's white top, "You don't have to do anything, you just say stop and we stop. Okay?"

Susan left Elaine to complete the removal of Denise's top, while she went for the clasp at the top of the short white skirt. Once opened, the zip came smoothly down as far as the bed would allow.

With both of the younger women tag-teaming her, Denise was in bra and panties before she could think to object. Once there, and with Elaine reaching behind for her bra snap while Susan pulled at her panties Denise had one last chance to stop -- or she could simply surrender and cooperate.

Denise lifted herself up off the bed to allow Susan to remove her panties.

Elaine began kissing her on the side of the neck, lightly, sensuously; the way she knew Denise liked it. In the meantime she'd deftly unclasped the bra and shifted slightly to give herself room to remove it, then she was touching Denise, lightly stroking her down her back, kissing her neck, nibbling her earlobe.

Susan got undressed while Elaine occupied Denise, whose eyes were closed, unresisting, simply wallowing in sensation. Once nude, the short brunette, sans glasses, moved to Denise's other side and began on that side of her neck, lightly stroking the right breast and her back while softly kissing her. Now it was Elaine's turn to get undressed.

The three ladies now slumped on top of the bed, and Denise, for the first time, began to take an active part herself, turning to Susan and kissing her, opening her mouth and drawing a moan of response from the darker haired girl. Elaine slipped down and began covering her breasts in butterfly-light kisses, stroking, softly licking, everything light, sensuous, patient.

Smoothly, Susan moved, leaving Denise on her back, exchanging kisses, caresses, both now smouldering with passion. Denise reached up to cup Susan's ripe breasts, capped with dark areolae, stiff nipples the size of her fingertips standing out, just asking to be touched. Denise did not refuse the request; she spread her fingers out and then drew them in towards the centre of Susan's breasts, lightly dragging the fingertips over the sensitive nubs.

In the meantime Elaine was moving down Denise's body, using her tongue over the sensitive belly, moving towards the junction of her thighs. But despite the upward jerk of Denise's hips Elaine bypassed her sensitive slit and instead began to kiss, lick, nip and caress her inner thighs, lifting up one leg, moving behind and playing with the inside and under her knee, then back up. She changed to the other leg and repeated the entire slow, sensuous process, never touching Denise where she now ached to be touched.

Denise felt her own passion building up as she kissed Susan, who was, herself, showing signs of her arousal. The darker girl had reached down with one hand, beginning to tease her own cleft. Denise noticed, pulled back from kissing her and nudged her hip. She said in a voice now deep with passion, "Straddle me, Susan, I want to taste you."

Susan knelt beside Denise's shoulder, then swung a leg over and lowered herself, placing her now glistening pussy over the redhead's mouth. Denise began to play, using hands, lips, tongue and nose, teasing, licking in patterns up and down the crease between Susan's inner lips, then finally, finally dipping into Susan's cunt, tasting her directly from the source. Susan gasped, arched her back and involuntarily pushed back into Denise. All the while she played with her breasts, pulling on her nipples, twisting them slightly. Her breath grew shorter, higher in her chest.

Elaine meanwhile had decided to stop teasing Denise and moved in, gently pushing the older girl's thighs apart. She left her for a moment, reaching for a pillow to place under Denise's ass to raise it slightly, and nudged her again, cooing "Lift up, sweetheart!" to indicate that she needed some room. Once back in position Elaine began to lick and play with Denise's pussy, kissing all around it, licking, playfully biting just the way she remembered Denise liked and making her gasp and moan. Denise couldn't see what her former lover was doing, but she could certainly feel it. She felt the tongue, the lips, the hands, even Elaine's hair moving softly over her thighs and belly.

Denise was enthusiastically playing with Susan, whose pussy was now engorged, pink and thick, well lubricated with her own juices as well as from Denise's mouth. Denise wanted to send Susan over first, but found herself increasingly distracted by the devoted ministrations of her ex-lover. Soon she realized that it was a contest she possibly couldn't win, as she felt herself approaching her climax. Then, belly rippling and chest heaving, she cried out in pleasure. Her head fell back from Susan's ass where she'd been licking only a moment before.

Elaine rode Denise's orgasm, being gentle, just licking and caressing, and then as she calmed slightly, began again, now adding her thumb over Denise's clit hood, gently circling at first.

Susan reached down with her right hand to play with her own pussy. She rubbed and circled, then moved up slightly to manipulate her clit, her left hand now alternating between each of her breasts.

Denise recovered herself slightly and reached up again for Susan, who she knew was not far away from her own climax. Only minutes later it was the brunette's turn. Denise found that Susan was very vocal when she came, her cries were loud and piercing. Susan's pussy became still slicker as she came, and Denise kept right on, using her left hand to support the younger woman's back while the right reached around to play with her clit, and meantime sending her tongue swirling, licking, sometimes as the chance permitted plunging into the bucking girl's opening.

Finally Susan could stand no more and abruptly dismounted from her, rolling aside and almost off the bed, bringing her knees up towards her chin. Denise breathed deeply, reached down and pulled Elaine up. For the first time since they had broken up many months before, they kissed each other. Kissing her passionately, deeply, she tasted her own juices, mingling with Susan's. Denise felt wonder that the two girls had given so much of themselves to her, and in return her heart felt wide open to them.. They broke apart for a moment, and Denise huskily whispered to Elaine, "Your turn now!" She rolled her over, placing Elaine between the still quaking form of Susan and herself.

Now it was Denise's turn to use her knowledge of her former lover to advantage. She knew that Elaine loved breast play, so she began by caressing one firm, round breast while kissing, licking and sometimes sucking the other. Her hand circled the compact breast with feather light touches, gradually spiralling in towards the nipple adorning its peak. At the same time, Denise turned her mouth around the other one, licking and swirling her tongue as she moved her head. Elaine's nipple was firm and erect before she'd gone halfway, and as Denise's tongue reached towards it final goal, her hand now firmly caressing the supple tissue, Elaine arched her back, moaning in response. Denise thought Elaine's breasts were small but beautiful, and she was able to cover almost all of her tit with one hand, kneading, moulding her flesh, fingers indenting the flesh, momentary white showing in engorged pink. Elaine's mouth was open, her breath short, softly mewling. When occasionally Denise would lightly nip at one of her stiff, pink nipples, she gasped sharply. Denise paid a lot of attention to her areolae, the fingernails now teasing, scratching lightly, then again digging in more sharply as Elaine's arousal built to a maximum.

In the meantime Susan had recovered a little, and rolled over. Elaine and her ex-lover were naked, covered in perspiration and sex juice, making love together. She felt a small pang, seeing them like that, but did her best to push it away as she realized that Denise had seen to her only minutes before. Now was not the time for selfish jealousy. Susan had committed herself to this course, she should see it through, and trust in her love for her partner, and the increasing feelings she had for Denise. Nervously, she watched them for a moment or two.

Susan shook herself slightly and summoned the energy to move down the bed and lifted Elaine's leg so that she could get at her pussy. Elaine twisted her hip a little to give Susan access, and moaned deeply, pulling Denise up to kiss her passionately. Their tongues twirled with each other.

Susan was actually gaining energy from what was going on, running her tongue up and down the groove of Elaine's pussy, knowingly licking in the crease between inner and outer lips, sometimes flicking up and catching Elaine's clit, causing her to stiffen and gasp into Denise's mouth. Denise didn't let up on Elaine's breasts. They played Elaine like a musical instrument, building her up, and up, and up; taking their time on her.

Red and blonde hair came together and intermingled where Denise and Elaine were kissing, while lower down Susan's darker hair was plastered to her head and to Elaine's thighs. Denise could tell when Susan began to really work around Elaine's clit, as she felt the gasps into her mouth. Elaine arched, twisted and cried into Denise's mouth as Susan helped to drive her towards her climax.

With the kisses, the breast caresses and the pussy play all combined with the delay and anticipation while the other two girls had got off, Elaine went through the roof when she came. She moved her head to one side and grabbed another pillow, biting it to try to stifle her cries. She managed to reduce the sound but not to completely kill it, and once again the room was filled with the sound of a woman in climax. Elaine bucked hard, but both Susan and Denise were used to this, and both rode her easily.

Susan crawled around and up to place her head on the remaining pillow on her side, lying next to her love, putting an arm around the still shaking girl. Denise sagged back on the other side, also cuddling Elaine. Finally all three were still, and as they softly cuddled against one another, Denise dozed off.

- - - - - - - - - -

She woke up in the gloomy room. Momentarily disoriented, Denise knew an instant's panic before remembering where she was. She could feel the soft body next to her, breathing gently, and knew there was another further, over in the bed.

Despite her somewhat adventurous tendencies Denise had never tried many of the exciting things she'd liked to have done. She'd never bungy-jumped, never parachuted, never had a threesome... 'Well, that's one kinda crossed off the list, now!' she thought to herself with a lazy smile.

She realized that someone had pulled a duvet over the three of them. She didn't know about Susan, but she felt very thirsty, and would bet that Elaine did too -- she always used to after sex. So Denise slid out of bed, eliciting a moan from Elaine at the loss of contact, though she didn't wake.

Denise padded out of the bedroom in the gloom of the house, lit by the streetlights outside filtered through the curtains. Once in the corridor however it was dark, but she remembered that the spare bedroom was opposite the room she'd just emerged from, and the living room was on the right as she looked back up the corridor towards the front door. So as she turned right, the kitchen must be the room down the corridor on the left, and the bathroom the room behind her.

Sure enough Denise found the kitchen, switched on the light and opened cupboards looking for glasses. She soon emerged from the room holding a tray with three glasses of water, having already drunk one herself. Re-entering the bedroom she found Elaine looking up at her, and Susan just stirring.

"I thought we'd all like something to drink. Water, anyone?" she asked them.

"Ooh, yes please, thank you!" said Susan, "definitely."

"Light switch is just inside the door, Denise -- pop that tray down on the floor and turn it on so we can see what we're doing." Instructed Elaine. Denise complied and handed over the drinks to the two girls. Susan was still blinking against sleep and the sudden light, while Elaine drank half the glass straight down before yawning widely, covering up with her free hand.

"Thank you," Denise told them, softly.

"Susan told me what she was going to do, out in the kitchen, and at first I didn't believe her. I'm still not sure I do! But I'm glad we did that, I hope it made you feel better."

Susan amplified, "Denny, you needed a hug, and more. I know you didn't want to be alone, tonight. Not just 'not in your house alone', but you needed hugs, and more."

She fell silent a moment, and Denise was about to speak when Susan went on, "And I needed to prove something to Elaine, and myself, too. I needed to show that I could let my love give hugs and cuddles and caresses and more to someone else, someone we both cared about," Denise felt her eyes widen at this, "yes, both of us, without me raising hell because of jealousy. I know Elaine's not going to leave me, even if we both can love you like we just did."

At this Elaine turned and buried her head in Susan's shoulder, hugging her fiercely. She pulled back a little, looked at Susan with an earnest, deeply committed expression and told her, "I love you, you know, Susan."

"I know you do, silly! God but you're pretty, Laney, pretty..." Susan began to rain kisses on the blonde. Denise began to back out of the room.

"Stay!" cried Elaine, pleadingly. "Please, Denny, stay with us, tonight. I want you to."

Denise looked at Susan.

Susan nodded.

So, she did.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise woke up. It was the following morning, Thursday. Denise remembered where she was, and glanced across. Sure enough, Elaine and Susan were still there. Denise felt contented, but as she lay there in the early light she wondered if what she'd just done was right.

'Well, you didn't exactly force yourself on them, did you?' she thought. 'If anything, it was the other way!'

Denise could be happy with the two of them for a while, she knew, but it wasn't a permanent solution. Denise was bi, but with a balance tilted towards men. So far as she knew, neither Elaine nor Susan swung both ways, so if Denise were to stay, they'd have to accept that. It might not work. 'Then again, it might. For a time.'

Denise was startled by the sound of the alarm clock. Elaine groggily reached across Denise and mashed the 'snooze' button, but then twisted in bed and looked over at Denise with one eye.

"Hi," she called, softly. She indicated to Denise to get up and pointed at the door. Denise watched for a moment as the blonde reached over and switched the alarm to 'off' before she got out of bed and went to the door. Elaine followed.

"Suze doesn't have to be up for a couple of hours, so I let her sleep," she whispered. You can use the bathroom first, I'll get us some coffee. I'll see you in the kitchen in a few minutes." Denise nodded her assent.

In a few minutes they were both drinking large mugs of instant coffee in the kitchen.

"So, what does this mean, Elaine?"

"I don't really know, yet, Denise," answered Elaine frankly. "I'll have to talk to Suze about it. But for me, it could be a more-than-once kinda deal -- I'll see how Susan feels."

She fell silent for a moment.

"Do you want it to be a more-than-once deal, Denise? You broke up with me to find a man. Well, you kinda managed that, didn't you?"

"Yup! See how far it got me?" said Denise, a little tremulously. "Fucked up beyond belief by all of 'em!"

"Yes, but you still want a man, don't you? You're not a fully paid up member of the sisterhood, and don't try to tell me otherwise."

"Yeah," Denise said, slowly, "I was thinking about that this morning before you woke up. If it is something we repeat, then you and Susan will have to accept that I'll want a man every so often, and probably will go permanent with one eventually." She looked down and studied her hands. "But in the meantime, I'm really glad for the hugs, and the love, Laney."




Equal Shares Ch. 28



Elaine moved to her, put her arms around her and drew her up. They stood with arms around each other and Elaine said, "You're welcome, Denny. We love you. We'll look after you until you're good and ready."

Then, a little more briskly, she added, "But now we've got to go to work. You need to go home and get changed, and I need to get ready too. Can you find your way out of the estate and back to your place?"

Denise smiled at her friend. She finished her coffee with a gulp, and set the mug down on the table. "Sure, Elaine. I'll see you at work in a short while." She grabbed her overnight bag, they exchanged a sweet but short kiss, and Denise left. 



Equal Shares Ch. 29



When Denise walked into The Firm's reception, she gave Elaine a peck on the cheek and went off to make coffee. It was still a good fifteen minutes before most of the staff would arrive, and before Denise would normally have started, herself. She brought the coffee through to Elaine, and soon the two were sipping coffee, just contemplating the events of the previous night, and what they would mean. Again.

"You know Laney, when we were together I'd thought of a threesome, fantasized about it I mean, but the opportunity never arose. That was more than just a little fun last night. That was a first for me!"

Elaine smiled. "I met Susan in a three. It was after we split, obviously, and I'd gone out with this other girl a couple of times, and we hit some bars, and, well, it just seemed to happen. She seemed disturbed by it, and we split very soon after." Elaine's eyes grew distant as she remembered. "But Susan and I just seemed to grow together from there on in."

They sat in the comfort that only two people who have grown close can manage. A few early starters came in. One or two gave the girls a curious look, most were still concerned with getting started themselves.

After five minutes or so, Denise stood, gave Elaine a peck on the cheek and told her, "I'd best be off and start seeing to work, Laney. I'll speak to you soon."

Denise went to her desk, and Elaine began sorting through overnight messages ready to pass them on as people came in.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne and Stan came into The Firm together. Both were smiling, happy, content. Stan had his fingers unconsciously entwined in Anne's as they came into the reception area.

As it was only Elaine in there, Stan glanced at Anne and leant in to give her a kiss, which Anne returned with interest – and considerable reinvestment!

"Hey you two! As they say over there, 'Get a room!' " Elaine laughed.

Stan and Anne glared at her, then smiled again to show they didn't mean it. They kissed again, and then each went their separate ways.

Stan entered his office area, noted that Elizabeth was in, as usual, and that Bob had made it in already as well. Elizabeth was watering his plants.

Stan said a cheery "Good morning!" and went behind his desk to turn on his PC. Bob called out "You're cheerful this morning!" and Elizabeth echoed with "Someone's happy!"

Stan paused on his way to get his morning coffee. "Yes I am, this morning. Anne and I just had a nice evening together. She cooked some fish, we had some nice wine, listened to some music, read a little... just a nice evening. It sort of set me up for the day!"

"Nothing more to it, huh, Stan?" asked Bob, rhetorically. "I wonder if Anne's walking around as happy as our Stan, here?" he asked Elizabeth, with a smirk, but the twinkle in his eye showed that he was teasing.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that morning, Stan and Denise were in the Sales conference room, explaining their documentation program and its use. While the meeting went reasonably well, and most of the staff had no problems or comments, it was after the meeting that trouble occurred.

Somehow or another Ewan had divined that Denise was no longer with her boyfriend.

"Say, Denise, you fancy a drink tonight after work?" he asked, jangling the gold bracelet on his arm.

"No thanks Ewan, but thanks all the same."

"Oh, go on. You know you want to. You don't want to be spending the nights alone, do you?" Ewan asked. Denise could feel the oil ooze from where she stood. Besides, she told herself, she didn't have to be alone, did she?

"No, Ewan, thank you." She turned to go. Stan was simply watching the two of them. It was fascinating, in the same way as an impending train crash. 

"Tomorrow night, then."

Denise halted in her tracks. She turned back to Ewan, annoyance now plain on her face, in her body language.

"Ewan. No! Not tonight, not tomorrow night, not any night. Do I have to make it plainer?"

Ewan sneered.

"Ah, I don't know why I bothered. You're probably not worth it anyway. You prefer old men who won't run too fast for you, if you know what I mean."

Stan bristled. Denise didn't bother; she reacted, lifting a hand to strike, but Stan, behind and on that side, automatically reached out and caught the arm, preventing Denise from getting herself fired. He was about to say something when Ewan stalked past him, out of the door.

"Remind me how he managed to get a job here in the first place?" he facetiously asked the mesmerised group still in the room.

"Well, when your Dad is one of the major shareholders and a former director..." someone answered.

"That's gotta be the reason!" snapped Denise, "Well, he'd better stay out of my way for the rest of the day at least. Sheesh!" Then she swivelled on her heel and looked at Stan, thoughtfully, her expression turning grateful as she said, "I guess I should say 'Thank You!' to you for stopping me from hitting him. I'd have got fired, wouldn't I?" By the end of the last sentence, Denise was looking guilty as well.

Stan reached out and lifted her chin with his forefinger. He told her quietly, "Denise, I think we'd all have said you were justified, but yes, it probably wouldn't have been good. Ewan's a snake, but as Tim said, he's pretty secure here what with his Dad and all that. Best to stay out of his way for a bit, huh?"

Denise nodded, eyes bright and glittery, and turned to walk away.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ewan, it seemed, hadn't forgotten that Stan had been there. On Friday afternoon, after he'd been to the pub, he saw Stan walking out of the lab area with Anne. He called loudly to his long-suffering assistant, "Huh! There goes a guy who can't wait for his wife to be cold in her grave, he grabs the first thing that offers itself, and then discards that when something better comes along!"

Stan and Anne couldn't help but overhear, as was intended. He checked his stride, but Anne tugged on his arm, intent on avoiding a scene. Stan was at first surprised just how strong Anne was, but then he reflected that he shouldn't be – she'd handled him without apparent effort in bed.

With a low, hissed, "Come on!" Anne pulled him away and into reception. There, they met Denise and Elaine. It was apparent that they'd interrupted a conversation, so Anne again led Stan, this time through and towards the exit on the opposite side, but Denise called out before they got there.

"Stan, are you going to YB Studio on Monday night?"

Stan and Anne stopped. He looked at the blonde and on receiving a nod said, "Yes, Denise, we are. You?"

"Yes," she replied, heatedly. "I'm fed up with having to pussyfoot around people here, I'm damned if I'll do it outside work as well. If Tom's there he'd just better stay away from me, that's all!"

The redhead looked about ready to explode. "Do you want to come with us, Denise?" Anne asked, carefully. 

Denise brightened a little. It seemed Anne would appreciate company. "Yes, please, Anne, I think that would be nice." She looked at Elaine, questioning. Elaine nodded her head minutely. "Yes, I'd like that a lot. We can work out the details on Monday."

- - - - - - - - - -

That Friday evening, Denise was just finishing some housework when the phone rang.

"Hi, Denise?" It was Susan.

"Hiya, Susan! How are you? Everything okay?" replied Denise, happy to hear her voice. The young woman had come to mean a lot to her, after all.

"Fine, fine. Elaine and I just wondered if you'd like to come over..."

Denise grinned. "Just come over, huh? Sure. D'you want me to bring anything? Supper perhaps?"

Denise heard a giggle from the other end of the phone. "Rather depends on what you want to eat, Denise!"

Denise cracked up. She couldn't help it, she simply roared. "Once not enough for you, Susan? And I thought you were doing that for Elaine, and me?"

"Well," said Susan, "Come on over and we can talk about it, huh?"

"I'll be a few minutes, there's some stuff I've got to take care of here, then I'll race around there!" Denise said down the line.

- - - - - - - - - -

About forty-five minutes later Denise stood at the door of Susan's flat, and rang the bell. She heard steps in the corridor beyond, and then Elaine opened the door. "Come on in!" she told Denise.

"Hi Laney! I brought a bottle anyway," she told the younger blonde, holding up a bottle of Pinot Grigio. "I popped into the supermarket on the way over."

"Good. We'll pop it into the fridge for later, Susan's just opening a bottle now," said Elaine, as they turned right into the kitchen. Susan was there, corkscrew in hand, just removing the cork from a bottle.

"Hello Denise. Ooh! A bottle! Terrific! Elaine, you want to pop that into the fridge while I finish up with this one?"

Shortly thereafter, the three of them were in Susan's living room, each with a large glass of chilled white wine. Susan and Elaine were on the sofa, while Denise had chosen the chair after (again) removing the bunnies.

"Cheers!" said Susan, and they all sipped.

"So," said Denise after a while, "what exactly did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Well, I thought we could have a bit of supper, watch a DVD and see how things go," said Susan. "I enjoyed the other night, and I know Elaine did, and I rather think you did too," she continued, "even if you did sneak out without waking me up for a good morning kiss." As she finished, she made a moue.

"I told you, we didn't want to wake you up, silly!" said Elaine, putting one hand on her lover's thigh. Susan put one of her hands on top.

"So, do you want this to be something more than just fun, Susan?" asked Denise, seriously. "The three of us?"

"I don't see why not, and neither does Elaine. We've spoken about it," and Elaine nodded as she went on, "and we both feel that we'd like to include you. If you're willing, that is, anyway."

"Um. I confess I'd not thought about this any further than a 'once or twice if I'm lucky' piece of fun."

"Yes you had, Denise," Elaine told her, "you just didn't realize it at the time. That morning, remember? You said that if we wanted to repeat, that Susan and I would have to remember that you're bi, and that you'd want to get a man in your life sometimes. So you were already thinking about it then, really."

"Yes, and to answer that specific point – Elaine and I have no problem if you want to date a guy outside of us. We'll not want to join in though, obviously! All we ask is that you're responsible, and that you let us know what's going on."

Denise replied to them both, "Okay. I'm going to want to keep my own place, and I'll probably sleep there sometimes too, to give you two some space to yourselves. I'm not stupid. I know that you'll be the most important things to each other, and that I'm, well, secondary. I'm the one looking in from outside. Don't try to give me the spare room, that's not enough distance. We can see each other, make love, or just hang out, or whatever, depending on how things work out, but you two are the main couple, I'm the add-on, and I'm happy with that."

Susan looked serious, but Elaine grinned at her. "I told you you'd been thinking about it. You just hadn't dared to bring it up, had you?" Denise looked guiltily down at her shoes, but she too was smiling.

Susan said, "You're important to us both, though, you know that, Denise. I thought I'd made that clear the other night?"

Denise stood, went to Susan, knelt by the sofa and took her hand. With a lump in her throat and glittering eyes, she said, "Thank you, Susan. Yes, I know. I feel for you, and for you too, Elaine. Well, you know that."

"So, what do we do now? All hold hands together, or what?" she finished.

"We enjoy the wine and some pasta, we watch a film and then we see how things go," said Susan, "just as I told you earlier!"

While they were munching on the pasta, ("No garlic bread tonight!" Elaine had specified, happily) Susan asked Denise, "Well, just how much had you thought about 'Us' then?" making a sign for the quote marks with her hands and nearly knocking Elaine's wine out of her hand in the process.

Denise blushed. With her complexion and hair colour, it was spectacular.

"Quite a bit, actually, in the all-of-two-days that I've had. I found myself diagramming it out, like the good little computer techie that I am! We're a triangle," and she demonstrated by placing the sea salt and black pepper pots plus a jar of tomato pickle at the points of an equilateral triangle. "The salt and pepper are you two, and I'm the pickle," she said with a grin.

Her face fell serious again as she went on, with the other two leaning forward in their seats, "The strongest bond is between the pair of you, I think that's obvious. There's another link that's strong that goes between Laney and me because of our relationship before, and because we've stayed so close since. But I was thinking about how I feel for you, Susan, and I think there's a strong link there, too."

Susan nodded, "I think so too," she told the redhead, softly, meaningfully.

Denise had reached for her handbag. She pulled out some cotton buds, laid two between the salt and pepper pots, and one between each of them and the pickle jar.

"So this is how I'd diagram out the relationship. The double bond is you two; you're all but married and probably will be later. The single bonds are your ties to me, more than friends with benefits, less than married. At least," she finished, surprising herself by actually being a little shy now that she'd so boldly made her presentation, "that's the way I see it, and I hope you see it that way, too."

She looked at Elaine and Susan, sitting on the sofa, still holding hands, and then back to the condiments on the coffee table where she'd placed them. When she looked back up, Elaine was looking at her with watery eyes, and Susan smiled.

"There's one more thing."

They looked at her, expectantly.

"Someday I will want to be permanent with a guy. I need that, I came to know that's what I wanted when I was with Elaine, and it hasn't changed just 'cos I've been a poor chooser. But when I find him, or he finds me, if he wants our little arrangement to end, what then?"

Susan's reaction was immediate.

"Obvious. You've said before you're bi with a preference for guys. No problem, Denise. If some future guy wants you to be exclusive, then tell us. There'll always be a place for you here, with us, if you want it. If not as a lover, then always as a loved friend.

"Now, Elaine, you've been pretty quiet, as well as pretty," she said, mussing the blonde hair of her lover. "Well, very pretty. Do you want to say anything?"

Elaine swayed out away from Susan's hand in her hair, and said, "Yes, I do. What about the three of us? Susan, what if Denny and I want to be together, and you're not there?"

Denise broke in, "I will not be a part of breaking you up-"

But Susan overrode her. "No, no. You won't because I know, with certainty, with every fabric of my being, that Elaine loves me. If you two want to be together, that's fine by me. We just have to make sure we all tell each other what's going on. Besides," she said with a glint in her eye and a lift to one corner of her mouth, "it might be me and Denise, not you, Elaine!"

Susan was silent for a moment. Elaine bit her lip. Denise sat still, afraid even to breathe. There was something happening, and all three of them knew it.

Susan closed her eyes in concentration. She shook her head in the tiniest motion, and seemed to come to a decision, then pushed the coffee table out of the way and stood, gracefully but with immediate purpose.

"Come on, let's get this stuff into the kitchen. To hell with watching a DVD, I want bed!"

Elaine and Denise both laughed and grabbed stuff to go to the kitchen...

- - - - - - - - - -

All three undressed together, Denise feeling herself fizzing with anticipation. She could tell from the looks on the faces of her two lovers that they felt the same way.

Denise hugged Susan to her chest, and the young brunette answered by kissing her fervently. Susan's lips parted in her upturned face, tongue darting, questing. Elaine came behind her and began nuzzling her, running her hands down her flanks, dragging the backs of her fingernails there. Denise shuddered in response, feeling as if someone were running a magic wand down her sides.

Denise pulled Susan closer, and they kissed. Denise wondered just how lucky she could be, this wonderful young woman was welcoming her into her arms, quite literally, and she felt a rush of affection for her.

"Mmmmm, nice..." she heard in her ear as she nibbled at Susan's neck with her lips, tongue moving in circles against the soft, sensitive skin of her throat. It was the beginning of an erotic journey for all three.

Elaine meanwhile was playing with both girls' flanks, still using the back of her nails. "Do you like this, Denise?" she asked, "I know Susan does!" "Mmm hhmmm!" responded Denise, the sound somewhat muffled by Susan's shoulder as she kissed her there.

Susan lowered herself gradually to her knees, kissing her way down Denise's stomach. She subtly indicated to the redhead to move her legs further apart, to give her better access to the fragrant centre of her womanhood. Elaine, meanwhile, made use of the opportunity to palm Denise's tits from behind her, kissing the base of her neck and rolling the nipples with gradually increasing pressure.

Denise was not idle, craning her neck to one side, bending to kiss Elaine, while her hands went to Susan's head, pulling her in. She felt the lips and tongue nibbling at her labia, teasing her open, while Susan's hands went behind her, palming her buttocks, spreading, kneading. Then Susan stood and moved to the bed.

Denise took charge this time. "Elaine, do you have any toys?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

Elaine grinned wickedly and went to the bedside cabinet. "What did you have in mind?" she asked, withdrawing a six-inch long chrome plated cylinder.

Denise had an evil glint in her eye. "I'm going to eat her, she's going to eat me, and you can use that vibrator and anything else you like. Afterwards, we'll double-team you!" 

"Oooh, goody!" Elaine bubbled, taking the vibrator and some wipes. Susan was smiling, too, and reached for Denise. They walked to the bed and Denise placed herself over the brunette in a sixty-nine. Denise once again felt the experienced lips, tongue and gently nibbling teeth on her pussy as she lowered herself, and quickly bent her head to the task of reciprocation.

She spread Susan's lips with the fingers of one hand, and licked, slowly, gently, up and down, side to side. The other hand delved deeper, lower, teasing Susan's ass, then travelling slowly back to the source of the sudden rush of fragrant honey. She felt Susan shudder. She heard a murmured conversation at the other end, and felt a shift of weight. Denise felt anticipation, then gasped as she felt an intruder penetrate her, and again when she felt it begin to move, and buzz, inside her. Susan was concentrating at the top of her slit now, teasing her clitoris, and Denise had trouble keeping her mouth moving on Susan's labia, almost coming to a stop herself, feeling the red heat of her own arousal building, the tingling of her body becoming more and more insistent.

The buzzing intruder withdrew and Denise felt the loss keenly. When she felt it again, this time it was at the rosette of her ass. She arched her back, thrusting herself at the vibrating toy, and let out a "Mmmmm" in appreciation. Susan bucked against her, feeling the vibration of her purr against her clit. Elaine refused to penetrate with the vibrator, she just used it to touch, to excite. 

Denise felt something wet and warm against her ass and realized that it must be Elaine's tongue, and then she felt the busy vibrator there again. Susan was really going to town on her, and Denise knew that, again, she wouldn't last long. Her love for the two women expertly driving her like a finely tuned race car grew deeper and deeper, she knew she must have done 'something good' to deserve this wondrous gift.




Equal Shares Ch. 29



Denise closed her eyes, still running her tongue in haphazard patterns around Susan's slit, tasting her metallic, tangy, wonderful fluid. She felt the red mist descending, heat rising, the liquid pleasure running through her veins. 

Denise came, almost blacking out, shuddering, heaving up and down against Susan, and crying out, "Oh Ohh! Ooohhhhhh FUCKFUCKFUCK!" There was white hot liquid in her now, coursing through her body, she was there/she wasn't there. Denise faded away, her awareness reduced to a tiny mote, only a single bright point of existence in her whole universe.

As she came back to herself she felt Elaine in front of her, nuzzling against Susan under her, kissing the girl's thighs, running the vibrator over them. Susan was carefully avoiding Denise's now supersensitive clit, licking and nibbling the outer lips, just keeping things going.

Denise raised her head a little, allowing Elaine to reach under her and touch the shiny vibrator against Susan's labia, running it up and down while Denise began to work seriously on Susan's clit, running her tongue around the hood, flicking it around, catching the sensitive nub, curling her tongue into a tube and fucking the tiny morsel like a miniature vagina.

Susan bucked, moaned and cried, but the other two ladies gave her no mercy, drawing her higher and higher, but never quite pulling her over the edge. Finally Elaine heard Susan calling "Please, please, so close, so close..." and she thrust the buzzing chrome tube into her lover, while Denise redoubled her own efforts. Susan came, hard, coating the vibrator and Elaine's hand with her juices while the powerful movements of her hips thrust Denise up and down. Dimly Denise heard Susan's cries, dimly because Susan's thighs were now pressed against her ears.

Denise rolled away from Susan, letting her pull herself together, while she reached for the young blonde. They kissed, and Denise knew that her love for Elaine, now pressed closely to her, had grown back to and even surpassed the heights she'd formerly known. She also knew that her love for Susan could one day grow equally as deep. Soon afterwards, coherent thought once again escaped her, as Susan rejoined the two and they concentrated on Elaine.

- - - - - - - - - -

The three made love long into the night, each peak rising beyond the first, expressing the love each felt for the others until finally, sated, exhausted, chests heaving and running with sweat and other juices, they stilled.

It was several minutes later, but it seemed to Denise like hours, when Susan propped herself up on one elbow, and said with a teasing smirk to Denise, "Still want a guy?"

"Yeah," Denise said, dreamily, on the edge of slumber, "Stan. I want Stan."

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 30



Denise woke up. 

It was Sunday morning. She, Elaine and Susan had spent the whole of Saturday together, just simply enjoying each other's company.

Susan's bed was crowded with the three of them, and Denise wondered idly for a moment whether she should broach the subject of getting a bigger bed.

She twisted over and met the twinkling eyes of Susan. They both heard a soft snore from Elaine, and smiled at one another. Susan mouthed "Coffee?" at Denise, who nodded, so they carefully got out of bed, grabbed robes and went into the kitchen.

"Do you think we went a little over the top with Elaine last night?" asked Susan.

"Nah. Though it was fun, wasn't it?" answered Denise.

She thought back. They'd double-teamed Elaine, giving her no mercy, each delighting in pushing the diminutive blonde higher and higher, until eventually Elaine had screamed "Stop!" and curled into a foetal position. Then they'd both hugged her, feeling her come down gradually, body quaking, as they delighted in expressing their love for and joy in the pretty girl.

Once she'd recovered, Elaine had simply wanted to roll over and go to sleep, so Denise and Susan had let her, making a bedtime drink of hot chocolate and relaxing, feeling the love between them deepen, but though both were aware of Denise's words from the previous night, neither had spoken openly of them.

Now, in the wan Sunday morning light from the overcast sky outside, Susan brought it up.

"Denise, you recall what you said just before you went to sleep Friday night?"

Denise blushed. She hadn't been certain that Susan had heard her.

Susan laid a hand over the older redhead's. "It's okay, I understand. We'll have to see what can be done, won't we?"

Denise looked glum, despite her companion's upbeat mood.

"I don't think it'll be that easy. I really think I've burnt my bridges with those two. Friends, yes, but I think Stan's out of my reach now."

Denise couldn't help it. Unbidden, tears began to fall as she said that, and a lump filled her throat. She opened her mouth to add that she was happy with Susan and Elaine, but couldn't get a sound out.

Susan stood, came around the table and hugged the older woman. Denise simply let it happen, her mind elsewhere. Stan was nice, protective, and friendly to her. It was Anne who'd been distant, but even she was being friendlier now. Could it be possible? The concept of a 'troi', three people committed to one another, not just some fun for a night or two, was very new to her. She resolved to see if there was anything she could find out about such things.

In the meantime, life still had to be lived. She pulled away from Susan, wiped her eyes and said, "Are we going to go down to Iorio's for breakfast today?"

Susan resumed her seat. "I don't see why not. I quite fancy something nice this morning, and the walk will do us good – wake us up. We'll need to check with Elaine, of course."

"Of course!" said Denise.

"Besides," said Susan with a sly grin at her new lover, "A certain gentleman and his girlfriend might be there.





Equal Shares Ch. 30



Anne, too, was aroused by their dance together. She felt hot and bothered, and by more than just the considerable physical exertion of the dance. Anne wanted to pull Stan into a room alone and feel him, hold him, take him. When Belinda indicated a change of partners, Anne had to pull herself together, but all she wanted to do was squirm, and to put her hands in places they definitely shouldn't be going in public!

Her new partner was a small mousey older gent named Alfred, and she smiled at him, trying not to overwhelm him. They danced along, diffidently. Alfred wasn't a great dancer, but he was competent. Anne's mind, and her eyes, were elsewhere. Alfred noticed, how could he not, and gently released her, telling her that "Perhaps we'd best stand by the wall, since you're so obviously distracted, my dear?" Anne nodded unthinkingly, and left him, moving to the wall, eyes never leaving the dance floor.

The reason for her distraction was Stan's new partner. Denise.

The two of them were moving with appreciable skill and emotion, considering their still novice status. But Anne was noticing something else. She watched their eyes. She knew that look on Stan's face, she'd seen it before. She also knew the look on Denise's face.

She'd worn that same look herself, only minutes before.

She was startled by a touch on her arm. She whirled around, to find Belinda standing next to her.

"I thought for a moment that that was you dancing with Stanley. Best watch out, dear, she could take him from you if you let her."

Anne merely nodded. She watched the couple moving, in tune with each other in the same way that she and Stan were attuned, analysing how she felt. Seeing them together ought to make her jealous, or unhappy, or worried didn't it?

She was still deep in thought when Belinda clapped her hands together and Yves stopped the music.

"Well, thank you all. I hope you've all enjoyed yourselves. We'll just do a short demonstration now, and then we'll let you go on your way," Belinda announced.

Yves cued in the music and the two began to dance. Watching them was an amazing experience, Anne decided. They moved with grace through a dance designed for quick, passionate moves, and it was obvious that their feelings for one another fed into their movements. 'Just like Stan and me, or Stan and Denise…' Anne thought.

When they finished their demonstration, Belinda and Yves thanked everyone for coming. Yves said he hoped to see them all again.

Stan, Anne and Denise went to Yves and Belinda. Stan told the Basque, "Thank you so very much for these past weeks. I've enjoyed them tremendously. I'm not certain if I'll go to further classes, but I fully expect to keep dancing."

Anne chimed in, "It's been great. You're wonderful teachers, and nice people as well."

Denise told them, "It's been lovely to see you both again."

Yves glanced at his wife, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and told the redhead, "Well, you can come to classes again, you know. You, too, Anne, you missed out entirely on the Foxtrot classes. You could come to the next set of beginners' classes should you wish. They'll probably be starting again in a couple of months or so." Again he looked at Belinda, who smiled, looked at the two younger ladies and told Stan, "Yes, you too, even though you did the whole thing. But only if you want to."

It was Stan's turn to check with the distaff side. Since Denise looked unsure he told the older couple "We'll have to think about it, but please notify us when you have another course running."

"We have the intermediate course running on Wednesdays, of course," commented Yves, but Stan, Anne and Denise all looked less than sure about that, so they demurred.

After saying their goodbyes to Belinda and Yves, Stan led the two ladies to the door and peered out. "Looks like the rain's stopped," he commented.

They walked to the car and got in, each following their own thoughts.

Stan drove, thinking of the dances he'd had with Anne, and then Denise. He couldn't deny it; he felt for both of them. But he was committed to Anne, wasn't he? He'd have to push the feelings that he felt for Denise far, far away where no one would notice them, even though he couldn't help but feel them.

Denise sat in the back seat, thinking of Stan. Warm, passionate, protective, funny… Stan was just about everything she needed right now. But she was in a new and barely understood relationship with Elaine and Susan, while Stan was with Anne, in about as big a way as it was possible to be with someone. Denise snorted to herself, almost silently. She expected to hear wedding bells sometime soon, with this pair. 'But what is it that you feel for him?' she silently asked herself, with no answer.

Anne, meanwhile, was carefully going through her feelings. She was more used to dealing with concrete, intellectual things, but Anne was intelligent and bent her mind to the task. How did she feel for Stan?

'I love him. That's a certainty,' she thought. 'I know, beyond doubt, that he loves me.' Anne pursed her lips in the darkness, considering. 'Denise. I think he loves Denise, too. If he loves her, what does that mean for the two of us?'

'Can he love us both? Can I love him, knowing that he loves another?'

Anne searched her soul, poking around her feelings.

"Yes. Yes, I can!" she said, aloud.

"Excuse me?" said Stan, from the driver's seat.

"Oh, nothing… nothing darling," she answered.



Equal Shares Ch. 31



Anne said nothing about her new personal insight that night. She still wanted to allow time to pass to make sure that it wasn't just the heat of the moment.

For heat there was, undoubtedly. Stan dropped Denise off at her house and waited to be sure she got indoors safely, and then he drove on. As soon as Denise was out of sight he felt Anne's hand on his thigh, heightening his own response. It was difficult to drive with her hand there and a burgeoning erection, plus whenever he had to change gear Anne had to take her hand away again, but by the time they arrived at Anne's house he was ready to burst.

Anne was aroused too. She felt her lower lips sliding across one another as she squirmed in her seat, her hand sliding up and down Stan's thigh as he drove whenever she could lay it there.

'What's come over me?' she wondered. This was more, much more than the horniness she'd felt after last week's dance. She wanted Stan inside her, hard, fast and soon.

Stan parked the car and undid his seatbelt. Anne removed hers at the same time and in a second they were in each others' arms, kissing passionately, deeply. For a few minutes they made out like teenagers in the front of Stan's Mondeo before he pulled back and murmured, just loud enough for Anne to hear, "I don't know which is more uncomfortable at the moment, the gear lever or the handbrake."

Anne pouted as he pulled away, but then smiled at his words.

"I have a door key," she reminded him, "and there's a bed upstairs, remember?"

They didn't get as far as the bed. Once inside the door, Anne pushed Stan against the wall, one hand playing with the buttons on his shirt and the other questing at his fly. Her mouth crushed against his, and he kissed her back eagerly. Stan was amazed. He'd never known Anne so eager. Even earlier that day, when she'd pulled her panties aside while bent over the chair, she'd been less horny than now.

Anne's left hand slid inside his shirt, having undone two of his buttons. Stan moaned as her fingers played with the hair there. All the while Anne was playing at his crotch. She slid down the zipper of his trousers and pushed her right hand inside, feeling for his dick.

"Anne, if you don't stop…"

Her only answer was to slide to her knees. She undid the belt and clip at the top of his trousers, slid his briefs down a little and took his dick in her hand. Stan gasped at the touch, and then gasped again as he felt the hot, wet mouth of his lover slide around the head of his cock.

There was no way Stan was going to last long under this stimulation, given the head of steam he'd built up. In less time than he wanted he grunted "Coming, Anne! I'm going to cum!" and she pulled back to suckle at the head while pumping his cock with her hand. Seconds later, spurt after spurt filled her mouth. Anne started a little at the first one, but eagerly, greedily, kept up the sucking and pumping, getting all she could from him. Once he'd finished, legs rubbery, Stan felt her leave him alone as she stood. He opened his eyes, closed during his climax, and saw her standing there, slightly above him, and she opened her mouth to show him the pool of semen still there. She closed her mouth and swallowed, then kissed him. He could taste himself on her still, but found it intensely arousing and kissed her back, fervently.

"Hmmmmm. Now that the edge is off, shall we go to bed?" Anne said, huskily, into his ear. Taking his hand, she led him up the stairs.





Equal Shares Ch. 32



Elizabeth was worried.

Stan had come in, sat down at his desk with barely a "Good Morning," and appeared to be listlessly looking at something on his computer.

"Stan? Is everything all right?" she'd asked him.

"Yeah, sure" he answered, continuing with whatever he'd been doing.

She looked at him. Hair unkempt, what looked like yesterday's shirt on, Stan had clearly not taken time this morning to look in a mirror. His face lacked animation, his eyes lacked sparkle.

Elizabeth felt sad, and a little afraid. Stan, it seemed, was re-entering his depression, and she'd been the only person he'd told of his "Night with the Pills" as he'd put it. She really hoped he didn't get that bad again.

'Maybe it's just a bad morning,' she thought.

Later it was clear that it wasn't just a bad morning. Stan had been barely communicative early on, now he merely grunted when addressed, offering no conversation at all. Bob had come over to ask him something and, getting a minimal response, had glanced over at Elizabeth, a knowing expression on his face. He'd gone back into his office with a slight shake of his head, and picked up the phone.

A little later Elizabeth stood and walked off to find some paperwork, but on the way she made a detour and went to the Lab to find Anne.

Elizabeth didn't often enter this part of the building, and when Anne saw her she turned with a smile on her face, which fell when she saw Elizabeth's grim expression.

"Elizabeth, what's up with Stan?" she asked. On seeing Elizabeth's quizzical expression she explained "Bob called and said Stan looked down, and I haven't had a chance to get out of here this morning."

"He looks like he hasn't slept properly, he's uncommunicative, uninterested. He looks bad, Anne, and I rather hoped you'd be able to tell me."

"I haven't seen him. I called last night and he told me he was busy catching up with some stuff, so we agreed to meet today here. He seemed happy enough the day before..."

Elizabeth saw the slightly dreamy look in Anne's eye and joined the dots. She smiled at the younger woman.

"No need to say any more, Anne! But he's not himself right now, I think. I believe he's re-entering the depression he felt when Caron died. It'll be about a year – yes, it's the anniversary on November the eleventh."

Anne looked stricken. "I'd forgotten. Actually, I'm not even sure I knew the date, anyway, but it was this time of year, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was Remembrance Day last year. It's going to be really difficult for Stan this year, Anne. Everyone is going to remember that day, because of what it was, and the tie-in with Stan. It looks like he's already triggered on it."

"Oh, God. I feel awful, I didn't know. What do I do? What do I say?"

Elizabeth was a little taken aback by Anne's reaction. She didn't know her well, but she looked scared, unsure of herself. This was not the confident young woman that Elizabeth had seen before.

"Anne? Is everything all right?"

"Sure..." Anne didn't sound 'sure' at all, and Elizabeth wasn't buying that.

Anne looked down at the steam rising from her coffee, then across, beyond Elizabeth, focused in the distance.

"I don't know how to do this, Elizabeth," she said, at last. "I mean, I can think my way through most things, but what do I do for Stan, now? I'm no psychologist!"

"You're the woman he loves though, Anne," Elizabeth answered. Anne muttered something under her breath that Elizabeth couldn't quite catch, but it sounded like it began with "One..." Anne shook her head and indicated that Elizabeth should continue.

"You're the woman he loves, and that's all that really matters, Anne," Elizabeth doggedly continued. "Just be with him, listen to him, talk to him – doesn't matter what about, really, just the sound of your voice. Think of Stan as a kind of coma patient, but one who you know can hear, see, touch, smell. Taste, too!" she finished with a smile and lifted eyebrow, and Anne blushed like a schoolgirl.

"Oh, God." Anne was visibly struggling, but the she took a deep breath and told Elizabeth, "Okay. I can do this. For Stan, I can do this!"

- - - - - - - - - -

That lunchtime, Elizabeth was sitting with Denise. They were both finishing their salads when Denise spoke.

"What's up with Stan? He seems to have gone quiet again."

Elizabeth looked at the young woman. Denise was feigning mild interest, and Elizabeth could see right through her.

"Stan will be fine, Denise. He's got Anne looking after him."

Denise looked down at her plate, now almost empty. "Oh."

Elizabeth picked up her last forkful of salad and said, before putting it between her lips, "I thought you were with Elaine and Susan."

"Mmm! I am!" Denise tried to answer around her last mouthful of carrot and celery. She swallowed hastily. "I am, Elizabeth!"

"So you're only concerned about Stan as a friend?" asked Elizabeth, mildly. She didn't believe it for a moment.

"Of course!" Denise answered. Elizabeth looked at her, calmly. Once again, Denise looked down at her (now empty) plate.

"Oh, all right, you know me too well, Elizabeth. Damn it to hell and back, did you have to be so perceptive?" Looking back up at her, Denise said, "I still have feelings for Stan. I mean, more than just a 'friends' feelings."

Elizabeth let the silence go on, giving Denise time to think.

"I still love him, Elizabeth," she said eventually. "I never stopped, even when I was with Jim, or Tom. Even now that I'm with Laney and Susan, I still love him." She looked forlorn. "I just can't give him up."

Elizabeth considered for a moment. "Denise, are you saying you'll try to take him away from Anne?"

She looked up in concern when Denise didn't answer straight away.

"I might, Elizabeth. I might. If I have to, that is. Oh, not now, I've got Laney and Susan to consider. It's altogether new, and wonderful! So I'll see how things go for a bit, just be a friend who's there for him."

Denise picked up her glass of fruit juice and took a sip. "I expect it'll all work out in the end, Elizabeth. He loves Anne, that's easy to see, and Anne loves him."

Elizabeth felt relieved, a little. "Yes, let time pass, Denise. That's probably best." She took a drink herself. "I told you, back in my day it was easier. You simply asked the girlfriend if it was okay and then grabbed the guy. But what you're talking about isn't the same at all, it'll have longer term consequences. Don't hurt people, Denise."

She leant forward. "Not unless you're prepared for the consequences yourself. You may fight, but that doesn't mean you'll win. I don't know Anne well, but she seriously loves him you know. She'll fight you if she has to, I think."

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that evening the object of these deliberations was at home, sitting in his recliner, staring at the wall, unseeing.

Stan had opened up a drawer in his bedside cabinet and pulled out some papers, looking for some headache pills. What he'd found was an old photograph.

Of Caron.

The woman in the picture looked in impossibly good health, looking over her shoulder towards the camera as she was walking away, long dark hair obscuring the other shoulder. She wore a cream cardigan. He remembered buying that for her, a present for her twenty fifth birthday. She'd loved it, and wore it a lot. In the photo she seemed to be saying goodbye, ready to walk off into the distance. It seemed so appropriate now.

Stan saw it, and flashed back to that day, and Caron's happy face, her broad smile, and the love that they'd made when Caron told him that she wanted to show her appreciation. Oh, what a night that had been!

But now she had forever gone from him, and he took one look and burst into tears, holding the picture to his heart, lifting it to his lips and kissing her sweet face.

Stan hardly remembered the rest of that day.

Actually, Stan hardly remembered the rest of that week. He vaguely heard himself answer Anne's queries ("No, Anne, not tonight."), he mechanically got his work done, but there was nothing of him there. Stan simply withdrew.

- - - - - - - - - -

A week later, and Anne was getting more and more frantic and frustrated. Stan was barely communicative, even when she called around in the evenings and tried to talk to him. Dinner was an ordeal for her, as her culinary skills were never great, but at least she was able to get Stan to eat – even if he didn't actually say that he appreciated it, at least it was consumed.

In fairness, there was the odd spark of life. Stan always made sure he gave her a kiss goodnight, and there always seemed to be some point during the day or night when he'd come out and take part in what was going on. Today he'd been eating lunch with her and she'd sneezed, and he'd automatically said "Bless you!" – but had also reached for her hand, conveying in touch the love that he still felt. 'Okay, so shortly after he went back under that fucking shell of his!' she thought, but at least it showed that there was hope.

Elizabeth was trying mightily as well. Stan would perk up for a moment and then fall back again for her, as well. She knew that Bob had noticed, and given the time of year he was taking as much as possible off Stan's workload, but he couldn't completely protect him.

Denise felt serially elated and confused. Whenever she was with Elaine or Susan, or both of them, she felt on cloud nine. The friendship, the companionship, the love was wonderful, but afterwards, when she was alone, she knew there was something missing. Increasingly she felt the need for a man, for a hard cock filling her, but even more the feel of his body, the planes of muscle, the maleness that life, and love, with Elaine and Susan would never be able to give her. One man in particular, even though those 'planes of muscle' were well disguised, drew her more and more. But now he'd hardly talk.

She discussed this with them of course. They'd all agreed that discussion was of paramount importance. "It is in any relationship, of course," Susan had said, "but it's going to be especially so in our more complex arrangement!"

So, she'd met the other two for breakfast at Iorio's that Sunday morning as usual. After getting their food and drinks Denise spoke up.

"Gah! That man will send me to an early grave!"

Elaine and Susan glanced at one another. This was turning into a familiar story.

"Stan, I assume?" Elaine said with a hint of amusement.

"Yes, it's bloody Stan!" Denise said. "Just as I screw my courage up to do something about him, he shuts everyone down. Even Elizabeth's just about had enough. His wife died a year ago next week, yes, I know, he's having a hard time Denise, we must all be patient, blah, blah, blah. God!"

Susan leant back in her chair. "Denise, that's not being very nice, is it? His wife did die almost a year ago. He's bound to be grieving, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is! But it's so frustrating!" Denise cried. "I'm stuck, and I really hate waiting!"

Denise held her head in her hands for a moment, looking down at her coffee. Then she laid her arms flat on the table and looked up at Elaine, then at Susan. She smiled, tentatively.

"I'm just being silly, aren't I?" she asked. "I know I have to be more patient. But I swear I feel like I'm bubbling over, like I could explode, and all the while Stan sits there with his dead eyes, and I want to go over and help him. But I can't because if I do then Anne will get the wrong idea, except that it's the right idea... and I'm off and running again, aren't I?"

Susan glanced at Elaine, and found her grinning. She smiled back.

"Denise, all any of us can do is wait. But I don't see why you can't try to help Stan too – just speak to Elizabeth and most importantly to Anne, first." Elaine nodded her agreement.

So it was, that on the Monday morning Denise got into The Firm early, and went to see Elizabeth.

Over a coffee for Denise, and a fruit tea for Elizabeth, Denise began.

"How's Stan?" she asked.

"You saw him after I did, on Friday, Denise. No better, I assume. He won't be until after the 11th, I expect. And probably for a while after that."

Denise sighed. "Yes, Elizabeth, I know. I so desperately want to help him, and yes I do have an agenda as you well know. But that's because I love him, and I hate to see him hurting. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No, of course not. But you have to think how it will look to Anne. You really don't want to be fighting with her over Stan just now. You have more self respect than that, if nothing else, Denise."

"Of course!"

"So go easy. Talk to her first, reassure her."

Denise smiled. "That's what Elaine and Susan said, as well. But it still leaves the question. What do I do?"

"What you would do for any friend, Denise. You listen, you provide a shoulder, and you make sure he eats, drinks and takes care of himself... all that. But you know this, you're just looking for approval to begin putting yourself back in his life, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. But he is my friend. He was that before I fell for him, and that's the way I'll play it. Thanks, Elizabeth."

Now to see Anne.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise found Anne in the lab, of course.

"Anne, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Anne swivelled her chair to look at the young woman. "Of course, Denise."

"How's Stan doing?"

Denise watched Anne's face fall, then crumple. To her amazement Anne looked about to cry, but held herself back, barely.

"Oh, Denise. He won't let me stay with him. He hardly talks to me, hardly talks to anyone. Oh, sometimes he lets me in, but he always slams the door afterwards. He feels guilty!"

"Guilty? Oh, Caron."

Anne looked up at Denise. "Yes. Yes, exactly that."

Denise paused in thought, and then said.

"The anniversary's this weekend, isn't it? The eleventh?"

"Yes, that's right," Anne confirmed, "on Saturday."

"Stan will want to visit the grave. So we'll all go, and support him, and console him, and look after him."

"All?" Anne asked.

"You and me. Elizabeth, I expect. I'll ask Bob, as well. We'll all go with him. It'll be a demonstration of support for him." 'And I can get closer to him, while we all try to pull him out of his grief!' thought Denise.

"In the meantime Anne, do you mind if I talk to Stan?"

"Mind? Of course not!"

Denise was pleased.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Stan?"

Stan turned listless eyes on Denise, then his gaze slid away again, going back to his computer screen.

"Yes, Denise?" he answered, lifelessly.

"Oh, come on Stan. I know you miss her, but really!"

"What do you know about it?" Stan almost snarled, but then he moderated his tone and continued, "I'm sorry, Denise. I'm having a bad day, but you didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't!" answered Denise. "But Stan, no-one of us deserves to be cut off from you the way we've all been this last three or four weeks. You let me, and Elizabeth and Bob, and then most especially Anne into your world before. I know what the date is this Saturday, but please, let us all help you. Stop fighting us, Stan. Please?"

Stan looked over at Denise. It was nothing that hadn't been said before, and the date was what it was, but for some reason it got through to him when it was Denise saying it.

They talked for a few minutes, nothing terribly consequential, just everyday chat about everyday things. Denise kept it light and refused to allow Stan to dwell on anything, keeping up both ends of the conversation when necessary. Finally, though, she had to go and do some actual work.

Denise leant forward and pecked Stan on the cheek.

"Welcome back, Stan. It's been good to talk to you. Now, go find that beautiful girlfriend of yours and give her a hug. She needs it!"

She left with a backward glance to make sure Stan wasn't looking sad and lifeless again. Reassured, she walked through into reception.

Elaine was there with a visitor, signing him out of the offices, so Denise had to content herself with a 'thumbs up' sign. Elaine smiled at her, and Denise went through the opposite door, and got on with her day.

Stan sat for a moment, then stood and walked over to Bob's office.

"I'll just pop over and see Anne, Bob. I'll be back in a moment," he told his boss. Bob looked over, smiled, and told him "Sure, Stan. See you in a few minutes."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Anne?"

Anne whirled in her chair. On seeing Stan her face lit, her smile was like a light bulb.

"Stan!" and she was up and embracing him faster than he could react. Stan was stunned by the vehemence of her embrace, he felt like he'd never breath again. Gently, he put his arms around the tall form of the woman he loved and nuzzled into her neck. He realized that Anne was crying.

"Anne, sweetheart, whatever's the matter?" he asked.

"You! You frightened me, you frightened Elizabeth, you even frightened Bob! We didn't know what you might do, Stan. You withdrew from us so far, and you wouldn't even let me stay and look after you."

Anne took his hand and pulled him into a chair near her own. Blissfully, the lab was empty. Stan realized with a jerk that it was well after five o'clock, that he really ought to have been on his way home.

"Anne? What are you doing here at this time?"

"I've got a deadline to meet, dolt!" she answered, but with a smile on her face. "Don't change the subject. Was it Denise that made you look, made you come back to us?" Stan nodded, so Anne went on to say, "Then I owe her a hug. A big hug. Probably lots of them, really, but she deserves them all. Stan, have you looked in a mirror yet?"

"Er, no, Anne. No, I haven't Why?..."

Anne had never released his hand, so now when she stood and tugged on it, Stan stood automatically with her. He followed her as she walked directly to the toilets.

The Ladies toilets. Stan baulked.

"Er, Anne, I can't go in there!"

"Don't be silly, Stan, there's no-one else here!"


"And?"

"And there're mirrors in there, and I want you to see."

She pulled Stan and, somewhat reluctantly, he followed. Inside, Anne pulled him to a basin and made him look at his reflection.

Stan saw an image. It was of a man with dark rings around sunken eyes, who hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and who hadn't combed his hair with any great attention. He understood suddenly what Anne was telling him: 'You haven't been looking after yourself, or letting anyone else look after you!'

"Christ I look a mess, don't I?" he said, drawing Anne closer to him. He smelled her hair, slightly fruity, clean. He realized that he must smell quite different, and drew back a little. Anne looked at him, clearly not understanding, worried.

"I guess I need a shower, Anne. And a shave, and then a few night's sleep." Now it was Anne's turn to nod, but with a smile.

"Some clean clothes wouldn't go amiss, too," she told him, wrinkling her nose a little. "Come on, let's get you home."

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne came home with Stan that night, and stayed. She was overjoyed, even though the best Stan could manage was a cuddle.

Late that night, she felt Stan shudder. She held him, waiting for the nightmare to finish, unsure of whether she should wake him or not. But in the end the dim streetlight filtered through his curtains showed a smile. Anne decided she had made the right decision after all.

- - - - - - - - - -

Saturday, the eleventh of November. It was a grey, drizzly morning. 

Stan arrived outside the gates in Anne's Mazda. Denise and Elizabeth were in Bob's car, just behind. Anne drove through the gates, the sign saying "District Cemetery" in a no-nonsense script.




Equal Shares Ch. 32



Anne drove through and up the sweeping driveway lined with chestnut trees, and parked her car. Bob drew up alongside, and they all got out. Anne held tightly onto Stan's hand as they walked further up the hill towards the grey stones.

The sombre procession wound its way towards its destination, then, a few feet short, Stan stopped. He turned to Anne and hugged her, then moved to Bob and shook his hand and said "Thanks," before moving to Elizabeth and embracing the lady, his friend. Finally he moved to Denise and took her hand in both of his, saying "I couldn't have managed this if it hadn't been for you," he took her in his arms and briefly hugged her, too, before turning and saying "I think I want to do this bit alone, if you don't mind." Anne held out their floral tribute, and Stan took it, saying a heartfelt "Thank you all so very much."

Without waiting for further acknowledgement Stan approached the gravestone that told the world that Caron, his beloved, was here. He fell to his knees, brushing away some dead grass and debris, laying the flowers against the cold grey stone.

He shut his eyes. Just thinking of her name was enough to make the tears begin to flow again.

As that November day grew murkier, Stan knelt by the grave, crying. He was lost in time, reliving his time with her, from playing on the swings on the way back from the pub when they were weaving home one night, to her laughter as he tried to untangle a bunch of wires from their old stereo and tripped over, sending things flying. She'd turned his swift anger into a grin and finally into laughter of his own. He remembered good times, and bad times; he recalled words better left unsaid and words of love that he wished he'd said more often.

But finally he was able to say not farewell but adieu, and stand again. His tears were on his cheeks but Stan felt better able to face up to the next day, and the next. He went to the others gathered a few respectful feet away, and told them,

"Thanks, everyone, it's time to go, now."

Bob shook his hand. Elizabeth wiped his face and pecked him on the cheek. Denise kissed him, then turned away, but not before Stan saw the tears in her own eyes. Finally Anne took his hand and drew him back down the hill to her waiting car.

- - - - - - - - - -

The next morning found Anne deep in thought, having a conversation with herself.

She was lying in Stan's recliner. It was only half past six in the morning, but Anne had woken early. Stan was still fast asleep upstairs.

'I'll have to take my courage in both hands and do it if I think that Stan is worth that much to me. Stan is it for me! I'm sure of his feelings for Denise. I haven't flat-out asked him, not yet. But I'm sure.'

'When we were dancing the other week I saw the way they looked at each other and I recognised his look, and I'm positive that the way she looked at him was the way I look at him. She loves him and he loves her, but neither will say anything because of me. If I'm certain of anything, it's that doing nothing will hurt us all in the end, so I am going to act.'

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 33



At The Firm, a couple of days later, Anne sat at her desk, leaning back, eyes unfocussed, forehead scrunched up, deep in thought. It was a pose that everyone in her area knew, but in this case they'd have been surprised at what she was thinking of.

Anne was still unsure about Denise and Stan. 'Just how would I react if Stan and Denise wanted some private time together? No, erase that. If Stan and Denise had sex together? Made love together? How would I feel?'

What Anne was imagining was Stan and Denise, bodies entwined, moving together, thrusting, panting. Anyone watching might have thought she was working hard on a problem, because there was a sheen of moisture on her face which was slightly flushed, and her respiration was shallow and fairly rapid. She'd been turned on by the thought, she realized. She was a bit surprised to find such a voyeuristic tendency in herself, it was something she hadn't experienced before. Anne put that to the back of her mind.

'Stan. Denise. Together. Can I not only agree to it, but actually invite it... instigate it?' she wondered, sitting up. 

'It's a bit... extreme, isn't it?' she continued to herself. 'Is that what I've got to do?' She took a sip of her coffee, sitting beside her keyboard, and was surprised to find it stone cold. 'How long have I been sitting here doing nothing?'

'I'd best be getting on with some work,' she thought, 'I'll have to spend some time on this later!'

Knowing inside that she was only putting the problem off, she nevertheless turned back to her 'real-work' problems, leaving her personal ones in abeyance.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise, too, was preoccupied. She'd arrived a few minutes late, and had scrambled to catch up quickly. Now, for the first time that day, she was able to grab a coffee and think about things.

She knew that she had a decision to make, but she was deadly afraid to make it, either way. She didn't really want to make the decision at all, but she knew that she must.

Elaine, Susan and she had fallen into a comfortable triad. The other two lived together, and Denise visited twice that week, when they'd all enjoyed each other. Elaine visited Denise alone a couple of times as well, and once Susan had come around, grinning from ear to ear and waving a bottle of wine. "Surprise!" she'd cried when Denise opened the door, and Denise reflected that it had been indeed – a very pleasant one.

It was the first time Susan and Denise had been together alone, and they were a little hesitant at first. But soon enough that hesitancy had melted in the alcohol (and the heat it produced!) and they'd enjoyed each other's bodies and each other's love, to the fullest.

But, comfortable as she was with Elaine and Susan, she was still in love with Stan. It was an admission that had been hard won from her heart by her conscience, and now she had to see where it was going to take her.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan, meanwhile, was wondering how to broach the subject of Denise to Anne. 'How do I tell her I want another woman?' he wondered. 'And how do I ask Denise, come to that? I can't just wander up to her and say "Hey, fancy joining Anne and me?" now can I?'

Well. There was one thing he could do – he could try spending time with both of them. Tonight. At the Mitre.

He went to see Anne, first.

"Anne, d'you fancy a drink tonight, down at the Mitre?"

Anne looked up from the schematic drawing on her PC, turning her chair towards him.

"Middle of the week? It's unusual..." Stan thought for a moment that Anne was going to say "No", but she paused and then... "Yes, I think I feel like a night out, and the Mitre's a nice place. Yes! Okay, do you want me to drive, or are we biking in?"

Stan hadn't thought of that. He pondered for a moment. Denise didn't have a pushbike, did she? He couldn't remember for sure.

"No, I think I'll drive, Anne. It's okay, I'm not trying to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you!"

"Oh, as if!" Anne replied, with a wink. "That's okay, Stan. I won't make you ride your bike if you're prepared to drive me to the bar, I suppose!"

"Good. I thought we could invite Denise, too. She's seemed a little withdrawn."

Anne drew a breath, and Stan wondered if she'd baulk after all and he'd have to re-think his idea, but then Anne said, "You, me and Denise? That sounds like a good idea, Stan," and she stood, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, quickly but with feeling.

Even with all that had happened between them, Stan blushed – after all, they weren't completely private. It was their workplace after all. 'What if anybody sees? Oh, the hell with it – they'll have to get over it!'

Stan's next objective was Denise, but first he had to find her. Eventually he ran her to earth, once again underneath a desk in Sales.

Stan waited patiently for her to finish, and was rewarded with a smile when she saw him.

"Stan, what can I do for you? Screwed up your PC again?"

"Huh. I haven't done that for ages, and that wasn't me anyway – must have been defective software. No, I wanted to ask you something."

"I've got to go back to the office, Stan. Talk on the way?" Stan nodded, and fell in beside her once they reached the corridor.

"So, what then?" she asked him.

"Anne and I are going for a drink at the Mitre tonight. I wondered if you'd like to come, too?"

Denise stopped and looked at Stan, who definitely looked back. She was wearing 'blouse and trousers' again, but the blouse was a lovely pale green one which didn't hide her bust, while not flaunting it, and her light tan trousers were topped off with a belt that, with the cut of the trousers, camouflaged her waistline. Topping it all off was her hair, long red locks pulled back into a simple ponytail. The outfit was simple but effective.

"You, me and Anne? Okay, Stan. What sort of time?"

"I'll pick up Anne at about half past seven, and we'll come around and pick you up on the way to the pub. If you'd like, that is?"

Denise, too, paused for a moment before assenting.

"Yes, Stan. That'll be lovely! I look forward to it – see you soon after that, then!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne was excited.

Stan had come to her with the idea of a midweek drink, with Denise, and at first she'd baulked, due to tomorrow being a workday. But then she'd realized what he'd said – him, her and Denise.

While Anne wasn't entirely sure of Stan's motives in inviting her, the fact that Denise would be coming along too was an opportunity not to be missed, given her earlier decision. Now all she had to do was open her mouth and speak.

All.

'Huh. Goodness, I hope I can come up with the right words!' she worried. 'Well, getting dressed up has always helped me relax in the past – let's do it now.'

Anne knew she couldn't go 'all-out' tonight, it was only the Mitre and she didn't want to be conspicuously overdressed. But that didn't mean that a nice top and a good pair of sexy jeans wouldn't work.

Anne had found a dark brown satin tank top, with double straps and a braided front which exposed a little flesh and looked very sexy. She also had a fine pair of jeans, which she loved, and some nice soft leather boots. 'Nice!' she thought as she pirouetted in front of her mirror.

As Anne sat fidgeting in her chair, she thought about how she could broach the subject. She really didn't have any idea, there didn't seem to be a natural way to start a conversation off.

She stood and walked over to her bookcase, pulling out a Heinlein. She opened a page more-or-less at random and began reading, visiting her old friend Friday. She was still reading, not really taking anything in, when her doorbell rang.

She opened the door and Stan was there, in (for once) a nice tan shirt, not just a work one or a T, and, wonder of wonders, he was wearing a leisure pair of trousers, not just another work pair, in a darker tan colour.

Anne's insistence throughout the summer on the two of them getting some exercise on their bikes had given Stan a semblance of colour. He'd improved his fitness a little overall too, despite his objections, so he looked really quite good, his shirtsleeves rolled up in the relatively warm air of that Wednesday evening.

"Hi Anne! Ready?" he asked.

"Sure, sweetheart, just let me grab a jacket."

Soon they were on their way to Denise's cottage. Anne was dying to know why Stan had invited the other girl, but didn't want to jinx her chances of being able to say what she wanted to. So she kept the conversation trivial and relaxing.

- - - - - - - - - -

They arrived at Denise's place, and Anne surprised Stan by saying, "I'll go!" and getting straight out of the car. Stan watched as the tall woman, who he loved so much, went to the door and rang the bell. He saw Denise answer the door and the two girls embraced, then came back to his car, together.

"...and then I found this neat dress online, and realized I had these shoes to go with it, and I thought 'Perfect!' – so I bought it straightaway, and I was actually surprised when it was on sale!" he heard Denise telling Anne.

Stan saw Denise was wearing a green rose print dress in some sort of satin like material. It came to her knee and looked elegant yet flattering. In particular it emphasised her bust – Denise would have to be careful how she bent over.

Stan thought this was too good a line to pass up. "You'll have to be careful, Denise, or you'll 'spill the beans' in that dress!" he told her as she got in the car. His reward was a playful cuff from Denise and "Huh! At least she has something to spill!" from Anne, which of course resulted in the required reassurances about the taller girl's bust line that she'd been after!

Stan drove the three of them to the Mitre and, on parking, got out and opened Denise's door. "Why, ah doo declaire!" she told him in a fake 'Gone with the Wind' accent as she slid out of the car. Stan hurried to open Anne's door as well, but she'd already got out. For the barest instant she looked annoyed as she got out after Denise, but then she gave him a smouldering kiss for his trouble, to Stan's relief. 'Note to self, Tread Carefully and be even handed!' he thought.

Stan took Anne's hand and led them into the pub. He halted briefly once they were all inside, looking for a free table. He spotted one in the back and led them to it.

While the girls got seated Stan asked about drinks. "Gin and Tonic for me please, Stan!" Denise answered. Anne wanted a white wine. "Make it a large one!" she called after him as he turned for the bar. Stan grinned over his shoulder at her in acknowledgement.

Stan collected his mineral water and the two ladies' drinks and returned to find them deep in conversation.

"Where did you find that top, Anne?" Denise was asking. Inwardly Stan groaned, two women talking about clothes could and probably would bore him to tears. 'This was your idea!' he scolded himself. As he thought this, a small smile stole upon his face.

Anne noticed.

"What are you sitting there so smug and happy looking for?"

"Well," Stan returned, "I have two beautiful women with me. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

'Perfect!' Anne thought.

Inside, Anne was excited and nervous, frightened almost. But she took her courage in both hands. She turned to Stan.

"You know I love you?"

Stan was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of his lover, but he answered, "Yes."

Anne took a deep breath. She looked at each of her suddenly very intent partners in turn. "Okay. I really don't know how to say this, and I don't fully know where it's going to lead."

She looked at Stan first. "I know you love me too, Stan, and always will. But I know something else. You love Denise, as well." She paused and turned to the younger girl. "And you, Denise, love Stan right back. So instead of making ourselves miserable, or fighting about who gets the man we both love, why don't we try a little unconventional relationship – a ménage a trois?" 

Stan gaped. 'Anne had been thinking this?!'

Denise, however, couldn't help it. She laughed!

Anne looked at her, not knowing what to make of the reaction, and starting to feel a little angry. Denise saw, and tried to placate her, putting a hand on Anne's arm for an instant.

"Just give me a moment and I'll explain!" she said, pulling herself together. She wiped her eyes with a napkin, and then went on.

"Honey, I don't think you realized. I'm already in a threesome."

"Huh?!" "What?!" were the simultaneous reactions from her companions.

"You mean you hadn't noticed me, Elaine and Susan?" she asked.

Stan just sat there, but Anne recovered fast. "Now you mention it, I've seen you and Elaine together more of late. I guess I didn't put two and two together." She looked upset, and Denise reached for her again.

"It's okay, Anne. Obviously, we weren't exactly advertising it. To call our relationship 'unconventional' would be putting it mildly."

"Hmm. Did I know you were bisexual?" Anne mused, "I'm trying to remember if anything's been said."

"Oh, I expect there's been gossip, Anne. There always is. But don't fret, it's no big deal provided we're 'plausibly deniable' as they say. Maybe one day I won't have to worry about such things, but at the moment, it is what it is. Laney and Susan will probably get 'married' someday soon, but they've made it plain that I'll still be welcome in their relationship. Our relationship, I should say. But now I have an offer I never thought I'd get – I'm flattered. Oh, and my answer's gonna be 'Yes!' by the way, Anne," She finished as she picked up a peanut and popped it into her mouth with aplomb.

Stan was sitting there, amazed and pleased. Also aroused; the thought of the three girls, Denise, Elaine and Susan together prompted an image in his mind that wasn't likely to go away for a while. But, there was Anne sitting next to him, having – amazingly – popped a question he secretly wanted, and now it seemed she didn't know what to make of it.

Actually, Anne's mind was whirling at amazing speed. A flash from her college life came to her. Then she wondered, irrelevantly, about how she'd map out the relationship she'd just, inadvertently, proposed. But finally she focused on the obvious question.

"Denise, if you're involved with Susan and Elaine, how can you so easily answer 'Yes' to my proposal? In fact, how can you answer 'Yes' to it at all?"

"Because we've already discussed it, both in general and in this particular case, specifically. Yes, of course you're right, I'm bi. I'm actually slightly inclined more towards guys, actually. That's the problem. You see, it's become increasingly clear, to me and Laney and Susan, that there's one specific guy I'm particularly hung up on."

Now Denise turned her full attention on Stan. "You, Stan, of course. I don't know what it is, but you've got me, for good or ill."

Denise looked back towards Anne. "I was prepared to fight if need be, but given the kind of relationship I was already in, I wondered if I could ever have a chance at something similar with you two. I'd just about made up my mind to try to work an opening to ask, when Stan asked me out with you both tonight." She smiled, widely, continuing, "If you hadn't popped that question, I was going to!"

Stan felt it was time to enter into things. He couldn't credit the way things were developing, apparently just the way he'd wanted them to. He looked from one of the girls to the other, and said, "Funny you should say that. I hadn't got as far as that, but I certainly had got to wondering what it could be like, and wanted to get the two of you together here tonight to talk and see how it went. So, you mean we all three..."

"Yes, it seems so!" interjected Anne. "All we have to do now is work out how!"

She raised her glass. Denise did the same, and Stan touched his to each, while Denise tapped hers against Anne's to finish.

"All for one and one for all?" suggested Stan. They drank, smiling.

"So, what next?" asked Denise. She looked at Anne, who she expected would continue to take the initiative, but to her surprise it was Stan who said, "Drink up, ladies. We're going back to my place where we can talk in privacy and hopefully celebrate properly, and I don't have to worry about driving!"

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 34



Chapter 34

On the way home Stan had dropped into an off-licence and bought some Dom Perignon. Now the ladies were sat in his living room with champagne flutes in their hands, glasses that Stan was filling.

After filling his own glass, Stan once again lifted his own. "To us." He said, simply, and the three drank a toast to their new relationship with one another.

Once they'd drunk the glasses down, Stan refilled them and then sat back.

"Now, that's better. We can talk without having to lower our voices or worry about passers by." He grinned, "Anne, that was one heck of a bombshell you dropped on us in the pub. On the other hand, all three of us have been thinking of something similar, you just articulated it first. So you have the floor!"

Anne stood and took a mock curtsey. "Thank you, thank you!" she said, sitting down.

"Right. I've been reading up on some of this. What we're talking about is a polyamorous relationship – one where all three of us are in a romantic relationship simultaneously. This lucky dog here," she indicated Stan with a hooked thumb, "is in love with both of us," indicating herself and Denise, "and we're in love with him!"

"With you so far!" said Denise. Stan nodded.

"What we should do now is work out what we want out of the relationship, what we do to get that, and some idea of the practicalities. Your situation is doubly complicated, Denise, because of Elaine and Susan."

"Ummhmmm. Yes, but... well, later. First off, what do we want?" Denise asked. "Well, I want to be able to be with Stan, here, to love him, to spend time with him and be romantic with him, to make love with him. Stan?"

Stan sat for a moment, trying to work out how to answer. "I'm not sure what to say! This whole thing is completely outside my experience. I love you, Anne, you've got to believe that first, but I find I can't hide it; I love you too Denise. I want both of you. But isn't that wrong?"

Denise spoke up. "Pah! Who says it's wrong, Stan? Am I wrong to be with Elaine and Susan? Am I wrong to be bisexual? Are they wrong to be lesbian?"

Stan felt suitably humbled. "Sorry, Denise. No, you're not wrong of course. You have every right to your feelings. It's just that... well. I was brought up traditionally, I guess. Lord knows I'd find it hard to explain this to my mother, and my father would be sitting there winking at me as if I'd managed to work the best scam ever!"

"Yes, Stan," Anne broke in. "But we're different people to your parents, in different times. Conformance to the norm isn't quite so socially necessary now, as Denise just pointed out. Plus, we don't exactly have to advertise what we do."

"So, do you still think it's wrong, Stan?" asked Denise, with an arched eyebrow.

"When you put it like that... no! Just different, I guess," he answered.

"Vives les différences!" Anne quipped. Denise giggled, and Stan added "Quelles différences!"

"Anne?" Denise asked, "What do you want?"

Anne sobered. "I want Stan to be happy. I can't be happy myself unless he is, and he'll never be happy unless you're in his life. I realized that for certain when I saw you two dancing the Tango together, and I've been wrestling with myself ever since." Stan's wry comment of "Did you win?" earned him a cushion thrown in his direction.

"Denise, one thing. Are you going to want me, too, in this?" Anne asked. There was anxiety in her tone.

""Well, I want you to be in this, Anne, of course! But you're asking 'am I going to want to have sex with you', aren't you?" Anne nodded, and Denise answered the question. "Yes, of course, but only if you were willing. You're beautiful Anne, and as sexy as hell as well – not always the same thing. Of course I'm attracted to you. But I would never push that if you didn't invite me. Let me ask you something though: How about the three of us together at the same time, where you and I are both taking care of Stan? Would that be too much for you?"

Anne looked uncomfortable. "I really don't know, Denise. Honestly, I don't know if I could. It's going to be hard enough to share Stan at all, let alone actually be there taking part. I think I'm going to have to take things slowly, Denise. Stan, if you're thinking of frolics in a threesome, don't get your hopes too high!"

Anne took a deep breath. "Okay, practicalities. How do we do this?"

Stan answered first. "We each have separate houses and I'm guessing we'll be wanting to keep it that way." There were nods from the others. "So, who visits who?"

"Well, I know you've got the bigger house, but it would be nice if sometimes you were to visit me, Stan," said Anne. "I expect Denise feels the same way."

"Yes, although my little cottage is a little cottage, I do have room for a double bed!" Denise replied. "So sometimes, yes."

"Okay. So if you two aren't going to be, er, 'fooling around' I guess, then, what? Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays one, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays the other and on Sunday I get to rest?"

"Well, that's certainly one way, Stan," said Anne. "Another question: If we're going to be 'We Three', then what do we say about seeing others?"

"Others?" asked Stan. Anne just looked at him.

"Don't play the innocent, Stan. You've eyes and a brain in your head – but sometimes you let your 'little head' think for you. If, say, Pamela from the dance group were to come on to you, would you be thinking, 'Well, I've got Anne, and Denise, why not add Pamela too?'"

Anne was serious, Stan saw.

"Anne, don't think for one moment that I'd betray either of you. You were, of course, dead on the money with that threesome remark. You're right that I probably would think that way, for a moment. I would never go behind your back, or Denise's back, though."

Anne turned to Denise. "Denise? That means other women, too, of course."

"No, I agree with Stan. If we do this, it's got to be something we do just as if it was a normal relationship, no cheating." Both women nodded agreement, but Denise added "If anyone wants to change the arrangement, we'll have to talk about it. That means if we want to drop out, or if we want to add someone new. For example, what if I fall out with Laney and Susan? I might meet another woman – and you know, I need to express that side of me just as much as I needed to express my hetero side while I was with them."

Anne answered, "Yes, Denise. Actually, what we really, really need to make sure we all do is talk to each other, all three of us. If there's anything we feel we need to bring up, we should make sure we do that. That's what all the websites I've read say."

"Extensive research, eh, love?" grinned Stan. Anne blushed a little but nodded. Yes, he really did know her.

"Okay," said Stan, "let's assume then for the moment that we'll go with the alternate day idea."

"But remember that Denise will still have to be with Elaine and Susan. That's going to take time out." Anne added.

"Mmmhmm." Denise answered, "They'll be okay though, they know how much I wanted this, how hard I was screwing up my courage – all for no reason, thankfully! Yes, they'll need time – but I'll have three or four days of the week for them anyway, and as it is we only see each other about that. Apart from Elaine at work, of course."

"Yes, and that's something we need to talk about, too," Stan said. "How much are we going to reveal at work?"

"That'll need thinking about. Probably nothing to start with," Anne answered. "It's not that I'm ashamed of us, more that I think it could become a barrier, and, as a woman in a man's world, I don't need another hurdle to overcome."

Denise nodded agreement. "Yes. That's why I haven't said anything to anyone about Elaine, Susan and me. Well, apart from Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth is completely trustworthy," said Stan. "She didn't even tell me."

"Why'd you think I told her? Dope!" Denise said, sticking out her tongue.

"Don't do that unless you're planning on using it!" Stan said. Then he paused. There was only one way this could end, now.

Everyone seemed to notice the sexual tension suddenly present. Finally, Stan put his glass down, got up and walked over to Denise. He reached down for her. She took his arm and stood.

In a moment they were in each other's arms, kissing, softly, tentatively at first, but then with increasing need. As Stan became more comfortable with the idea of kissing Denise while Anne was there, his tongue invaded Denise's mouth, finding her own. It was the most intimate thing he'd ever done with Denise, and his manhood hardened. Denise ground herself against him, her green satin dress now bunched in one hand as he felt her ass with the other, pulling her against him.

Stan spared a moment to glance at Anne, his love. His other love. She was sitting, watching intently, with a look of surprise, perhaps bewilderment on her face. He broke off his kiss with Denise, who lunged after him for a moment before reopening her eyes.

Stan moved towards Anne, reaching out for her. Anne allowed herself to be pulled upright, and Stan looked deeply into her eyes, searching for... something.

"Are you okay, Anne? Are you sure?" he asked, gently concerned.

Anne shuddered for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes, Stan, I'm sure. It's just that the reality of seeing you kissing someone else is a little different from just thinking about it, no matter how hard I tried."

Denise looked stricken, and seemed about to say something, but Anne held up her hand.

"It's okay, I tell you. I just needed a moment." She walked over to Denise.

"Tonight I want us to celebrate, not to feel down. I want you to make love to Denise – not just have sex, make love. I also want to make love to you, myself, but if that doesn't happen, well, there'll be other times. But tonight we enjoy."

She reached forward, put a hand on the back of Denise's hair, and pulled her forward a little, placing a peck on the crown of her head.

"You," she said, and reached for Stan, giving him a full kiss on the mouth, "and you need to get back to where you were. I want your prick oozing, and I want her pussy dripping. Then I want you two in bed, while I look after myself. Come and fetch me when you're done, you two."

Stan didn't know what to say. Denise acted. She reached for her co-lover and kissed her, not an all-out passionate kiss, but one full of love, a sister's kiss. "You can come up any time, you know." She told her, softly, but Anne shook her head.

"I'm not sure I could handle that, not yet. I'll put some of Stan's music on, and drink some wine, and lose myself in a book for a while." Anne's eyes were bright, but her expression was resolved. She finished with a softly voiced command, "Go!"

Denise took Anne's hand for a moment, then released it and whirled to Stan. She felt almost shy as she reached for him and said, "Stan..."

Stan took her hand and led her upstairs. On the way up, his last glance at Anne showed her smiling up at him, blowing him a kiss.

Relieved, Stan bounded up the stairs like a teenager. Denise followed, now giggling. They entered his bedroom and Stan pulled the redhead towards him.

Once again the fires built. Stan could feel his dick, painfully constrained and awkward in his trousers. He reached down to it but Denise forestalled him, saying, "Let me!" as she undid his belt one-handed.

Stan reached behind her, looking for the dress fastenings. Not finding them, typical male panic began, but Denise simply finished pulling his belt out of the loops, tossed it unconcernedly on the floor and took his hand, placing it under her left arm. He found the zip there and pulled down, dropping to his knees as he did so.

He pulled the dress down, and Denise responded with a wiggle that helped it on its way. She was wearing simple, white, lacy panties, and a matching bra. Denise reached behind her and unhooked her bra while Stan watched, looking up, spellbound. As her breasts came into view he was licking his lips in anticipation.

He wasn't disappointed. Deep, deep in his mind he'd fantasized about seeing Denise's tits many a time but now that had become a fantasy fulfilled. The first of several, he knew.

Denise's breasts were full, honest to God tits that stood firmly in front of her. Round, paler than the surrounding flesh, and with pink, erect nipples, the small bumps on the small areolae caught the light like goose bumps. 

He began to reach for them, but she stopped him, pulling back playfully, saying, "Not so fast, Stan! Let's see some of you, first!"

She leaned forward, lifting his chin, guiding him up. Then Denise began to undo Stan's buttons. There were two very prominent buttons on show for Stan to play with, so he did, just lightly scratching each of the two hard, pink nubs with a fingernail. Denise hissed but didn't pull away.

With the last button undone it was easy to slide the shirt off one arm at a time, Denise turned her lover and pushed, sitting him on the bed as she did so. Then she stood back a step and posed for him, wearing just her white, lacy, panties, breasts firmly jutting, nipples erect and proud. Suddenly she pulled down the panties, stepping out of them and kicking them away. "Ta-da!" she called, once more displaying herself. Stan saw the neatly trimmed natural red hair and he growled and stood, reaching for her. Denise put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "You've still got something to show me, Stan!" she told him, and fell to her knees, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and pulling them down in one motion. Stan's erection sprang free, bobbing in the cooler air. He knew it was hard and full, and judging by Denise's pleased expression she wasn't disappointed either.

He felt Denise put a hand on his prick, lightly rubbing up and down, as if testing the texture of the tool before using it. Denise looked up for a moment, their eyes meeting, and then she looked back at Stan's oozing dick.

Stan watched, fascinated, as Denise put out her tongue and licked up the dewdrop of pre-cum that was glistening there. "Mmmm," she said in approval, before once more beginning to jack him one handed, the other hand busy between her own thighs.

"You like the taste?" Stan asked, and Denise answered him, "Mmmhmm. Salty-sweet, but I need a larger sample to give a full opinion." She smiled at him slyly then opened her mouth, just taking the head of his prick into her mouth for a moment, swirling, tasting. As she did so Stan closed his eyes.

For a while he simply sat, one hand on the back of Denise's head, the other holding him up, while Denise knelt between his legs, just the tip of his prick in her mouth, still sliding one hand up and down his now solid member. He felt her tongue sliding around the sensitive head, then probing the small slit at the top. Then he felt her lift off and heard her take a deep breath.

Stan opened his eyes in time to see Denise's mouth descend on him, engulfing his cock, sliding deeper and deeper. She reached a limit and pulled up a moment, then began again, wetting and licking as she did so. Denise's full attention seemed now on his dick as she tried to get all of him inside her mouth. She didn't quite manage, but Stan was more than satisfied as she began to bob up and down, now once again with one hand out of his sight, disappearing between her thighs.

Stan began to thrust involuntarily, and Denise easily moved with him, controlling the movements, not allowing him to go too deep, too fast.

Denise varied her moves by sometimes taking his dick out of her mouth and running her tongue backwards to the base, then briefly tonguing his balls, before slowly, teasingly sliding her tongue, or sometimes her cheek back up to the tip. She would then lick her lips and begin again, taking him deeper and deeper.

Denise began to really go for broke, sucking hard, sliding him slowly out of her mouth, then opening her lips and forcing herself back down. She increased her pace, jacking him harder with her hand.

Stan felt everything to do with his cock, and nothing anywhere else. His whole universe had shrunk to the one place, his dick and what was happening to it.

Within minutes Stan felt himself approaching the brink, and quietly warned Denise, "Soon Denise, soon!" Denise tried to smile around his dick but kept up her efforts, jacking him in counterpoint to her mouth. She moved her other hand, fingers slick from her juices pressing between his anus and his balls, massaging the spot there.

With a deep groan Stan came. Denise gave a delighted short cry and backed off him a little. Stan felt jet after jet of semen streak out of his dick, but that was all he felt. Moments later he fell backwards across the bed, temporarily spent. He saw moving spots across his eyes when he finally opened them, and found Denise now lying on the bed next to him, twirling a fingernail lightly in his chest hair as it rose and fell with his breath rasping in and out. She had a dreamy expression on her face, somewhat pleased, like the cat who'd just got into the cream.

They lay together for a while as Stan's breathing eased and his mind returned to function. He looked across and saw Denise there, looking at him, eyes bright, challenging perhaps, but affectionate, loving. He knew that he'd become one of the luckiest people in the world. Not one, but two wonderful women who loved him, that he loved right back.

Stan collected himself and rolled to her, kissing her without reservation, enjoying the mingling tastes in her mouth. He pulled back a little and asked her, "Well? What does the connoisseur think?"

Denise smiled languidly. "Lovely. The best fruits, well-pressed!" She brought one hand up from between her legs where she'd been gently fondling herself, and fed it into his mouth, telling him, "Here's a sample of something of mine. Care for an extensive taste test?"

Stan smiled. "I'd love to!" he told her, and they rearranged themselves. Denise lay in the centre of the bed with her legs spread and knees up, and Stan began.

At first he licked the inside of her knees, lightly, teasingly, and then he began to slowly move along the inside of one thigh. Just before he reached the top Stan kissed her, almost at the crease of thigh and body, sucking deeply, then transferred his attention to the other thigh, once again starting at the knee and slowly, slowly licking his way towards her fragrant centre. He repeated this sequence, but this time stroked the leg with one hand, lightly, using just the sensitive pads of his fingers.

All the while Stan was acutely aware of Denise's open, weeping pussy, lying in wait for him. While he was dying to indulge himself, he wanted to slowly bring Denise to the boil, to extract every bit of pleasure he could from the act, to show her that he loved her. But the scent of her was almost overpowering, acutely enticing.

He slid a finger along her folds, catching the moisture in her russet curls. Using this he slid back and opened up her body, finding the cavity there, entering without resistance. He slid his finger into Denise and twisted it, crooking, and Denise arched her back with a short sharp cry. Stan almost thought he'd hurt her, but when he tried to remove his finger he found a hand snake down to prevent him. "Please Stan, more!" she told him, and Stan obeyed.

Stan lifted himself a little closer and licked up and down her folds, tasting her, loving what he found and using his tongue to draw abstract patterns on the sensitive, swollen, pink flesh. Denise opened up further, lips puffy and pink with arousal, her moisture indeed oozing and almost dripping around his finger.




Equal Shares Ch. 34



Finally moving up her body, Stan rained kisses on her mons and lower belly before dipping his tongue into her navel, swirling it around in the sensitive flesh there. Denise moaned and flinched a little, but she didn't stop him. Stan lifted up a moment, allowing his hand to slide up and over one of her tits while catching her eye. He saw love and lust in equal parts there, and thought he probably looked the same. Certainly he felt a burning need. He was not a little surprised to find himself hard again, already.

Denise drew him up with one finger under his chin. Stan went willingly, he wanted, he needed, he had to have her. 

She lifted her forefinger to indicate 'wait a moment' and reached for her purse. She delved inside and pulled out a foil packet, saying softly, "Better safe, Stan," before opening it. Stan had little recent experience with the things, but scooted up on the bed to let Denise lovingly unroll the latex over his cock as it stood proudly for her. Then he moved back between her legs and nuzzled at her nipple for a moment or two.

Denise then reached down with her free hand and grasped his dick, sliding it around in the wetness of her cunt before placing him at her entrance. "Now!" she told him, pushing herself up towards him as Stan thrust down.

They slid together easily. Stan felt her muscles rippling, twitching as she held him there with one hand behind his head and the other on his ass. Wordlessly they began thrusting at one another, slowly but deeply, bodies arching, straining in the age-old duet that was raw, plain, animalistic fucking.

They accelerated – neither could help it. It was just as well that Denise had drained Stan earlier. There was no way he'd have been able to hold back otherwise. As it was he was able to keep going long enough to feel Denise shudder beneath him as she cried out "Stan!" and then wailed, loudly and with increasing pitch. The sound and the feeling of her cunt milking him was too much for Stan and he came into the condom, pulsing a couple of times, eyes clenched.

Stan recovered and began to roll away but was held in place by Denise who grasped his dick, holding the condom in place, before letting him move. He stayed close and lightly stroked the spent form beside him, lovingly trailing his fingernails over her breasts and stomach before leaning forward and kissing her shoulder. Denise took a deep breath before turning towards him.

"Stan, that was wonderful. Thank you!" she told him.

"Don't worry, it's me who should thank you, Denise. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you!"

They cuddled for a while, not speaking, not even really thinking, just being together. But finally Stan realized they had unfinished business.

"Anne."

Denise answered sleepily, "Huh? Oh, Yeah."

"We'd better be getting dressed and go downstairs to Anne"

"Yeah. You'd better take care of that, too," she told him, pointing at the condom now almost falling off his shrinking penis. "Um. Stan, can we do that again? Please? Soon?"

Stan kissed her tenderly. "I'd like that Denise, I'd like that. But we have to go to Anne, we mustn't neglect her."

"Yeah. But I don't want to get up!"

Denise rolled over and off the bed however. "I'd better go to the loo before we go downstairs, love. Actually, we must both reek of sex – best a shower, I think!"

Stan leered, and she went on "Okay, yes, together!" and laughed at his happy-puppy expression.

They both went to the bathroom together. Stan grabbed some toilet paper and wrapped the used condom in it before putting it into his waste basket. Denise sat on the toilet and peed. Stan watched, a little surprised, as she did so without concern for him being there. "You've just seen and done much more than watch me pee, Stan. I don't mind." Stan's erection betrayed him, he was turned on. "Ooh. You like to watch a girl peeing, Stan?" she cooed at him, and Stan turned away, embarrassed. He heard Denise stop, wipe and flush. Then she was beside him, turning him towards her.

"Stan, please don't be shy about anything with me. So you just discovered a little fetish? So what? Believe me, that's mild stuff. Let your libido hang out with me for a while, I think we'll have fun together. There's a number of things I've not tried, and I want to!"

Stan still looked sheepish. Surely it was wrong to like that? Then he reflected that it was supposed to be wrong to make love to one lover while the other waited downstairs. That reminded him that Anne was waiting downstairs, so he moved to the shower and turned it on.

They only fooled around a little in the shower, Stan washing Denise's boobs while she cleaned his penis and balls. They smiled a lot at each other though, and kissed, and generally ensured that each knew the other's feelings for the other. It was a tender time, rather than an arousing one.

Soon they were drying each other. Finally Denise pulled her dress back on – not bothering with underwear – and Stan pulled a bathrobe on. They kissed once more, then made their way out of the room and towards the stairwell, beyond which, they knew, Anne would be waiting.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 35



Anne watched Stan and Denise climb the stairs. Stan turned to look at her and she blew him a kiss, smiling at him. They bounded up the stairs out of sight and Anne fell back into her chair. 

Watching Stan kiss Denise had been hard, very hard. Anne had thought it out beforehand, considered that Stan and Denise would be kissing and much, much more -- but as she'd told them, actually seeing it was something else.

Now they'd be upstairs, undressing. Denise had those wonderful large breasts, things that Anne had lost men to since she was a teenager. Would it happen again? Had she made a dreadful mistake?

For a moment Anne was prepared to get up and rush upstairs, to interrupt, to stop it -- but then she relaxed. Stan loved her. She knew that, knew it with every fibre of her being. 'Don't I?' she thought. 'He loves me. He really does, and the fact that he's with Denise, rutting with her, fucking her doesn't change that does it?'

Anne actually felt annoyed with herself. Her thoughts were normally controlled, disciplined. Now they were running away from her.

'I don't really think like that,' she told herself. 'Stan and Denise can make love and Stan can still love me. Will still love me. Does still love me.'

'Doesn't he?'

'This anxiety is quite normal,' she told herself. "Normal. Hah!" she said aloud, and then was quiet, hoping she hadn't been heard upstairs. 'As if they'll be listening out for me!'

"Right," she said aloud, more quietly, "I can deal with this. Like I said, music, wine, book!"

She went to Stan's CD collection and browsed for a minute or two, then realized she was humming a tune. "Romeo and Juliet, huh! Okay, let's find the Dire Straits…" she said to herself.

It didn't take long, and soon Mark Knopfler's beautiful guitar began to play over Stan's sound system. Anne put it on 'repeat' so she wouldn't have to get up again. She went to Stan's kitchen and found a bottle of Muscadet in the fridge. Approvingly, she opened it and carried it into the living room where she poured herself a large glassful. 'Better watch it, I have work tomorrow and I'm starting to carry a load,' she thought.

She set the glass down on the coffee table and went to Stan's bookshelf. Sure enough, he had 'Friday' too. She grinned to herself -- she and Stan had wide and overlapping tastes, though she'd never quite have the same feel for history that he had, and he'd probably never quite want to read the same science journals that she did.

'Music, wine, book. Now I just need to relax enough…'

Actually, the wine she'd drunk was more than sufficient to relax her. By the time she'd had that glass of wine and started on another, Anne felt quite floaty. When Mark Knopfler began singing about 'Les Boys do Cabaret' Anne was quite capable of singing softly with him, somewhat off-key and without really noticing. She cried a little as she read of Friday's troubles. By now Anne had stopped thinking about her man and his other love.

That changed when she heard shuffling steps on the staircase. Anne pulled herself out of Heinlein and looked up.

Stan was coming down the stairs in front of Denise. Both had obviously recently showered. Denise looked happy and content, Stan did too but his expression was also concerned as he looked over towards Anne.

Anne smiled. She stood up, swayed a tiny bit and then moved towards them both as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Stan stood still when he got there, and Denise, coming up beside him, gave him a shove in Anne's direction. "Give her a kiss, you ninny!" she told him and Stan obeyed, taking Anne in his arms.

Anne closed her eyes, feeling him grasp her, smelling the sweet clean smell of his shower gel, then tasting his lips. A very slight taste told her that Stan had forgotten something, and for a moment Anne recoiled a tiny touch. Stan pulled back himself in confusion but Anne recovered, pulling him to her lips, kissing him, tasting her.

Several seconds and a century later Anne broke off the kiss and looked at Denise, who was watching with a smile on her face.

"You took good care of our man then, Denise?" she asked rhetorically, and Denise nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, and he's every bit as wonderful as I'd dreamed," the shorter woman answered, "but you know that, Anne." Denise took Anne's hand and kissed her wrist. "Um. I had to remind Stan about a condom. You two ride bareback?" she asked.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry, Denise, I never thought. Yes, we do -- given our past history, or lack of it, we're safe, but I should have thought and explained -- and so should you, Stan. Little Stan doing the thinking again?"

Stan looked sheepish, and Anne went on, "Given that we're going to be exclusive, we ought to get ourselves tested properly and then we can stop worrying about such things. What do you two think?"

"That's a good idea!" Denise confirmed.

Stan nodded as well, thoughtfully. "I really disliked those things back when Caron and I were engaged, which is why she went on The Pill back then. They've not really improved much, either. I'm really sorry, Denise, you shouldn't have had to think of that just then." Suddenly Stan looked stricken. He looked at Anne and stammered, "I-I-er-sorry, I didn't mean to say…"

"Stan, I know what you were doing, you can talk about it you know!" Anne told him with exasperation in her voice. "Not very long ago we were saying we had to talk about things. Well, sex and condoms and such is exactly one of those things we have to talk about!"

Anne sat down in the chair again, heavily. "Now, what are we doing about sleeping?"

Stan looked at Denise, who calmly looked back.

"Don't look at me, Stan. What's today?"

"Wednesday," he replied.

"Who do you want to sleep with, then? No, I take that back. It's unfair. Anne, I've had my fun tonight, and I don't want to hog things. We'll talk about exactly who does what tomorrow, but for now, you two go to bed. I'll sleep down here."

"Nonsense!" said Stan. "The spare room's there, Denise, for tonight you can kip in there and we'll sort out everything else in the morning."





Equal Shares Ch. 35



Stan was a little taken aback by Denise's directness, but he recovered quickly. "No, I haven't," he replied, "but I always wanted to. Caron wouldn't, and it's never come up with Anne, not yet anyway. Er, if you see what I mean!"

Denise giggled at his unintended pun. "Well, now you get to fulfil an ambition, then, Stan. You'll need to get me good and ready, and take it slow. It's been a long while for me, too, but I'm sure we can both enjoy it!"

She quickly stripped off her shirt and removed her trousers. Stan hurriedly began to do the same, but he was almost mesmerised by the sight of Denise removing her panties. She stopped, with them halfway down her legs, bent over towards him, smiling widely. Stan smiled back and got rid of his own clothes in short order.

Denise came to him, putting her arms around him and kissing, at first softly, but with increasing intensity. He reached behind her and traced the line of her backbone slowly up from her ass to midway up her back, scraping the back of his thumbnail. She arched her back and moaned into his mouth. Her tongue was like a swift snake, busily engaging with his.

He felt one hand behind his neck, pulling him harder into the kiss. Then he felt the other, as she made space between their bodies and put a hand on his dick, stroking him slowly up from the root. She pulled back from the kiss and told him, "Let's go have a nice long shower, Stan. A nice, hot, relaxing shower!" She took his hand and led him upstairs, but not before retrieving the lube and condom.

Once in the bathroom, she turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. Stan watched as she checked it, and then stepped inside, pulling him in. His teeth were bared against the heat as he reached for the soap and began lathering up her shoulders, then her back, gradually getting lower. He managed a smile as she turned and kissed him, mashing her wet breasts against his chest hair, careless of the water in her face.

She drew back and reached for the soap herself. Soon she was lathering him up all over his chest hair. "I think you could use shampoo here, Stan!" she told him. He was indeed pretty hairy there. With a wicked gleam in her eye she delved lower, reaching his pubic hair, and finally took his jutting penis in her hands and began to wash it.

Stan's hands were roaming over Denise's breasts, slippery with the soapy lather, sensuously moulding them in his hands, caressing the nipples, which were now firmly erect like his dick. He leaned forward and kissed her, lightly, barely touching her lips, then pulled away as she leant in towards him.

"Tease!" she accused, and slipped the hand that had been fondling his dick under to play with his balls. 

Stan spread the lather all over Denise's body, drawing her closer to him as he made very certain that the globes of her ass were clean. Then he sank to his knees in the shower stall and washed her pussy, making sure that the whole area was washed and well massaged. Denise sighed, opening her legs, standing straight with her hands on Stan's shoulders, gently massaging them as he rinsed her off there.

Stan wanted to move in and lick her, taste her, but Denise drew him up and said, "Rinse off first, then we can have some fun!" So they did, and Stan took the nozzle off the wall and used it directly over Denise's pussy, causing groans and hip movements that told him he was doing something she liked.

He hung the nozzle back on the wall and was about to turn off the water when Denise stopped him again, reaching forward and embracing him, kissing deeply. His spine tingled as he felt her body pressed against him, then he just felt and stopped thinking at all.

Finally she reached behind him and turned off the shower. Still together, they stumbled into the bathroom itself. Stan grabbed a towel and began to dry Denise off, gently but firmly stimulating her with the soft cotton. He dried her shoulders, and her upper arms, then ran the towel down over her back, finally reaching her ass, which he dried thoroughly. Denise made appreciative noises, and when her turn came said, "Come, Stan, let me dry you," as she took the towel and made his skin tingle.

Denise must have decided that Stan was dry enough, because she tossed the towel aside and pressed him against the wall. Her kiss was fire, Stan could now feel his erection turgid and firm against his belly, and knew that Denise must be able to feel it as well. He pulled her to him, his hands on her ass, kneading the firm flesh there, and Denise groaned, then whispered in his ear.

"Stan, get me good and ready, and you'll get a treat…"

Stan groaned himself. He felt that he would go off far too soon! Controlling himself, he pushed Denise back towards the Ottoman in the corner of his bathroom, and, turning her, bent her over it. He sank to his knees behind her and began to stroke her already pink and glistening pussy lips.

Denise gasped as Stan leant in and ran his tongue lightly up and then down in the creases between outer and inner lips. She moaned as Stan pulled those lips apart with two fingers, and teased her, just not quite playing directly with her clit, building her gradually.

Stan took his time, concentrating on the task as a way to slow himself down. Using both hands, using the pads of his fingers and, just lightly, the nails as well sometimes, he stroked her building up the fires within her. Stan could tell she was very aroused, her lips were pink and puffy, her pussy wet, her scent enticing, almost overpowering. She felt wonderful on his tongue as he drilled into her, tasting the warm, succulent and spicy flavour, relishing the slight metallic aftertaste.

"Stan, use a finger in my ass!" Denise called, and he wet his index finger in her pussy thoroughly before placing it at her dark rosette, spreading the moisture. At a whim he bent forward and licked her there, drilling in with his tongue so that the first penetration wasn't with his finger at all. He could just make out Denise's appreciative hiss.

Stan placed his finger once more at her most intimate entrance, and pushed, gently at first, then with more pressure until he entered her, just a single joint deep. He marvelled at her heat, at how tightly her rosebud held his finger. He'd never be able to get his dick in there!

But gradually he felt Denise relax, and his finger entered another joint deeper. "Use some lube, Stan, and add another one. You want to open me up a little before getting yourself in there," she told him, excitement in her voice.

So Stan recovered the lube, opened it with a twist of thumb and finger and pumped. Denise went "Ooh!" as the liquid landed on her ass, but Stan spread it around and carefully pushed first one, then a second finger inside. "You need to push, Stan. Open me up!"

Stan did as he was bid. He didn't want to hurt Denise, and she obviously wanted him there, so he pushed, as gently as he could, to get both his fingers in deeply. Once there, Denise began to waggle her ass around a little. "Okay, love?" he asked her, and her reply of "Yes!" came with a little strain. He began to withdraw his fingers, but she said immediately, "No! Stan, no, work with me, keep it going." She reached underneath herself and began masturbating, playing with her clit after wetting it with the combination of the lube and her own juices.

Stan could tell Denise was well and truly aroused now, and he withdrew the fingers of that hand to grasp his, fully erect, dick. He reached for the condom, tore it open with his teeth and rolled the covering down over his rock-hard cock. He barely entered her pussy and stroked shallowly for a couple of minutes, building her up even more, while playing with her asshole again. Finally he withdrew, placed himself at her asshole, and pushed.

At first he thought he'd not be able to do it, but then he felt her muscle give, and the head of his dick was inside her ass. "Are you okay, Denise?" he asked again, and she said "Yes, Stan. Go slow, add lube, but keep going!"

He did. He pushed again, sliding slowly deeper inside Denise, adding more lube as he went. A memory came back to him, something he'd read, "You can't use too much lube when going up the ass!"

So he added more lube, and pressed himself deeper, and then added more lube, continuing the cycle. Finally he was root-deep inside Denise's ass. Her ass was like a circular vice holding him in, with a fiery depth beyond. It was an amazing feeling, something he'd never felt before, but something he knew he'd want to feel again.

He rested there for a minute, to give Denise the chance to get used to his dick deep in her ass. Again, he asked "Okay, love?"

"Yes, Stan. Ooh, I feel so full, so stretched. You can start if you want, my wonderful man -- just go slow at first!"

So Stan slowly pulled out an inch or two, then equally slowly pushed back in. Denise groaned, sweat puddling in the small of her back, as Stan forced himself home again. After a short while though she told him to "Speed up, now Stan, and play with me, I need to come!"

Stan had been lost in his own sensations, but now he reached under his pumping cock and began to play with her pussy. He wasn't able to pay as much attention to her as he would normally have wanted to because the sensation of Denise's ass around his dick was almost overwhelming. He knew he would be coming soon though, so he tried hard to stroke her pussy with his fingers, gathering the moisture. In truth Denise was wet there, her juices dripping down to her clit, and Stan reached further and began to play with the secretive, sensitive organ.

He thrust and played and played and thrust, and lost himself in the sensation again. He was dimly aware that Denise had replaced his fingers around her clit with her own, rubbing hard and fast. Before she could quite come to the boil he felt his own climax arrive, and he couldn't stop it! His cum exploded like lava deep inside Denise's ass.

He slowly became aware that he was grunting in time with the thrusts he was making deep inside his love, who was making high pitched yelping noises of her own as her busy finger brought her to her own climax.

Stan withdrew his softening penis, holding onto the condom. He quickly disposed of it and staggered to the washbasin. He washed himself clean, then took a fresh flannel and returned to Denise, who was still quaking from the aftershocks of her own fulfilment.

Gently he washed her, saying over and over, "I love you, thank you, I love you…" Denise pulled him to her and kissed him, then sat up. "Thank you Stan. That was incredibly intense! I feel a bit shaky, to be honest, so now, can we go to bed, and sleep? I need cuddling, Stan…"

Stan was only too pleased to oblige. In bed a few minutes later, as they spooned together, he stroked her flank, still whispering sweet things to her, making sure she knew just how much he loved her.

Denise was still shuddering a little, coming down from the sensation of Stan being deep inside her ass. Stan kept stroking her, softly calling her name and telling her that she was loved, that he loved her very much. Eventually her breathing became slow and even, and Stan finally was able to rest. He put his arm around this incredibly passionate woman who'd just given him so much, and went to sleep. His last, slightly incongruous thought was 'I'm going to ache in the morning -- but God, it's been worth it!'





Equal Shares Ch. 36



Denise woke. She felt… odd. She rolled over, feeling stiff and sore. 

"Oh!"

She remembered why she felt a bit sore, there and smiled, remembering the feeling of Stan being deep inside her ass, the stretching being a little uncomfortable, but the sensation of being filled was soooo good!

She looked down. Stan was still asleep, bless him. She loved the sex, of course, but it was the emotional connection that she had with Stan that made it so special, so breathtaking. She knew Stan wasn't the best lover she'd ever had. She had a fleeting thought of Tom through her mind -- a rat, but a skilled rat! Then there was Raoul… but really, there was no comparison. Stan was patient, loving and willing to share himself completely with her. He took his pleasure in making their pleasure as great as possible, and his love for her made skill, stamina or size less important.

Denise needed to pee, so she got up. She winced slightly as she did, reminding herself that last night it had been just as well he wasn't the largest of lovers. She padded into the bathroom, had her pee and then turned on the shower.

She hadn't been in the shower very long when she saw the frosted shape of (presumably) Stan walk in.

"Morning!" she called over the noise of the shower, and she heard him grunt a reply. 'Not a morning person!' she reminded herself.

It turned out she was only partly right. Stan knocked on the shower stall door, and then opened it and peeked in.

"Room for one more?" he asked. Denise smiled at him, nodding and gesturing for him to join her. Stan took the soap laden sponge from her hand and washed her. If he seemed to pay special attention to her breasts, Denise didn't mind. He moved the sponge lower, washing her abdomen, gliding it over her small belly roll. He moved lower still, soaping up her red-bronze pubic hair. Denise sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, but she told him, "Not this morning, Stan. Just wash me, please."

Stan smiled, leaned forward and kissed her, lovingly. He said, "Certainly, my princess. Anything you desire." He dropped to his knees in the stall, soaping up her legs. He gestured with his hand and said simply "Turn!" so she did, placing her hands flat against the wall of the shower.

Stan washed the backs of her legs, her thighs and then moved up to the curves of her ass. He didn't linger overlong there, moving further up to the small of her back. 'Damn!' thought Denise, but in truth she wasn't ready for more, especially anal.

She turned, and took the sponge from him. "Your turn!" she told him, smiling wide, and he smiled back. He reached behind her and pulled her to him, so she did the same, then as they kissed she began rubbing the sponge around his back.

Denise pushed Stan away and fell to her knees. "Not all of me is too sore, Stan!" she told him, and reached for his cock.

The water fell on the back of her head as she took him in her mouth, all of him. In his semi-flaccid state she found it easy, but Stan soon grew. She kissed the head of his penis, then took just the bulbous head in her lips and sucked, washing it with her tongue. She heard Stan groan, and looked up to see him standing, wet hairy chest blending into slight pot belly, not yet shaven but the goofiest smile on his face, eyes closed. As she watched, he opened them and she saw deep inside his soul.

She kissed, she sucked, she caressed and she jacked. Her tongue worked its magic on his stiff shaft, on the sensitive area just under the head, on the tip, teasing the small slit there. She bent to her self-appointed task, to make Stan's morning as good as she could. It was her present to him, for he'd given her his innermost self that morning, and she had nothing more to give -- he'd already had that.

Denise made the oral lovemaking last, but she knew they had to get ready, so she finally sucked him deep, caressing his balls with one hand, jacking him with the other. She smelt the taste of his pre-cum, she heard his groan, she felt his shaft swell, so she let him out slightly, jacking him with purpose and he came. His salty-sweet semen coated the inside of her mouth, and she drank him greedily.

When he'd finished, Denise opened her eyes and stood. Stan was there, arms around her, eyes full of love on her. He kissed her, ignoring the taste of himself, then put his lips to her ear.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome, my love," she said, oddly shy, looking down. He tilted her chin up to meet her eyes. "I love you, too, Denise," he told her.





Equal Shares Ch. 36



Denise heard, as if in the distance, Susan's voice from the front door, "Leave me alone!" She heard the door open, heard Elaine's voice, but couldn't make out the words. Then she heard the door slam, and flinched. She felt 'not there'.

Suddenly someone was at her side, lowering her. Dimly she realized it was Stan, putting her in his recliner. She heard a voice in the distance saying, "Make some tea, Anne? Strong and sweet, I think."

She heard a chink of glass on glass, and caught the whiff of Brandy under her nose. She shied, and suddenly felt her gorge rise. There was an arm around her, helping her as she leaned over. She retched and was violently ill right into Stan's wastepaper bin as he held it under her. It wasn't until after the spasms stopped that she realized that she was crying, bawling, heaving great sobs, there were arms around her, voices comforting her.

She realized she was calling out, shouting, over and over again.

"Laney! Suze!"





Equal Shares Ch. 37



"She's inconsolable," Anne told him.

Stan looked up. He was in his kitchen, filling the kettle. Tea all around seemed to be the best answer. 'God, I'm so English!' he thought, irrelevantly.

Anne stood in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning tiredly against the doorframe. Her white blouse was stained with what Stan assumed were tears and makeup. She looked exhausted. Stan put the kettle on and went to her.

He gathered the tall blonde figure into his arms and kissed her, softly, tenderly. "I know, Anne. Denise really was in love – is in love – with those two. I think especially Elaine."

"Mmmhmm. I think Susan was wrong to spring that on Elaine, Stan. She was forced to choose, then and there, and it broke something in her. She was crying as they left."

Stan held her. Anne had taken her shoes off, so he could nuzzle her neck without having to tilt up to do so.

"'Twas always going to be thus,' you know," he said softly into her ear. "Elaine's first loyalty was to Susan. Denise knew that, really. Hell, even I could see that."

"And you're nearly blind when it comes to people? You're not really that bad, Stan, you just don't pay enough attention most of the time. But still, it had to hurt Elaine as well as Denise. I hope those two, Elaine and Susan, don't split over this as well."

"Me too. But we'd better get back in there." Stan told her. "Finish making the tea, love? I'll go this time."

In the living room he found Denise still crying, though more softly now. It was almost an hour since Susan's stunning departure and Denise had cried the whole time.

She looked up as Stan walked in. Her face was blotchy red, eyes still watery and red-rimmed and she looked miserable. He smiled sympathetically to her as he crossed the short distance to the sofa and gathered her in his arms.

At first Denise was limp in his embrace, but suddenly she grabbed onto him with surprising strength. She burst into a fresh bout of tears. All Stan could do was hold her, whispering "I love you, Denise" into her ear, and try to reassure her with the simple facts of his presence and his love.

Stan became aware that Anne had come into the room when he heard the teacups rattle behind him. He heard Anne beg Denise, "Please, have a cup of tea with us Denise?"

He felt and heard Denise draw a long, shuddering breath, then another. She nodded, and the arms around him relaxed their tight embrace, and he moved to sit on the sofa properly. Anne took a seat on the other side of Denise. Both had an arm around their partner.

"Tea. Answer to all problems!" said Denise, shakily. "Why is it we British always think we can solve a problem with a cup of tea?"

"Well, it can't hurt, can it?" said Stan, which drew a snort from Anne and a shaky smile from Denise. Stan blew across his cup to cool the hot liquid.

"It's a stimulant, it gives you something to do, it gives you time to think. It's also a tradition, and it helps everyone feel like they're doing something. Making a cup of tea is sort of like therapy for the rest of us," Anne said.

"It's what we do." Stan finished, as he took a sip and exhaled, "Aaahhh!"

"Dope!" Denise said, but the mood had lightened a little. At least now she had stopped crying.

"Do you think I have any chance at all of winning them back?" Denise asked, softly into the silence, not looking at either of them.

Stan felt Anne's reluctance to say anything, but something had to be said. "I don't know, Denise. Perhaps. But some things, once said, can't be unsaid. Maybe once Susan's calmed down, and especially when her test results come back, she'll feel better about things." 'Only if they come back negative!' he thought. "In the meantime, we're here, Denise, we're here."

Stan felt her heartache. There was a lump in his chest, cold, inert, impeding breath. He felt his heart pumping, desperately trying to work around the barrier. But ultimately it wasn't something he or Anne could fix for Denise. They were reduced to holding her hand and letting her know she wasn't alone, and trying to make her feel better. It would have to suffice, because if Susan didn't relent, that relationship was all over.

- - - - - - - - - -

Denise slept with Stan that night. Anne insisted, before she drove herself home.

"To hell with calendars and schedules. She needs you tonight, and probably tomorrow too unless they kiss and make up before that. Let's hope!"

So it was that Denise woke up with Stan's arm around her waist, his warm presence against her back. She felt comforted, until she remembered.

'Still, maybe I can talk to Susan, get her to see I meant no harm...'

But her conscience weighed on her. She had neglected to say anything about the missed condom. She should have got herself tested as soon as she came home, she shouldn't have put her lovers at risk. She'd been irresponsible, she knew it, and Susan had called her on it. 

Susan was right about something else. She had thought of the two of them as possible vectors for the disease, and she hadn't said anything about that directly to them. This was her fault.

Denise began to cry, softly. Not softly enough.

"Denise? It's all right, love. It's all right. I'm here. I love you."

Stan's voice, soothing, crooned into the back of her neck She felt the bed shift as he propped himself up to tell her, again, "I love you, Denise."

She wiped her eyes and twisted to face him. She buried her head in his chest, nuzzling at the hair there. In a small, lost voice she said, "I love you too, Stan. But I love Laney, and Suse...."

"I know, I know. Come on, let's get dressed. You can see Elaine at work today, and check up on how things are."

- - - - - - - - - -

That things would be awkward became immediately clear. Elaine looked up, saw Denise walking in with Stan behind her, and said – nothing. Her mouth opened, but no words emerged.

Denise looked, and saw immediately that things weren't going to just be 'all right.' She stopped and felt Stan put his arms around her from behind.

"Elaine, can you get Faye to come and cover for a moment? I think you and Denise need a little chat."

Elaine looked a little startled by Stan's calm assurance, but nodded and picked up the phone.

Stan turned to Denise. "Shh. It's okay. You talk to Elaine and then, when you're done, come and see me, or Elizabeth if you'd prefer, or even Anne. We're all here for you." Then he kissed her cheek and was gone.

Denise looked up at her friend and lover. She saw compassion and love, but also hurt and... something else. Guilt.

Faye came in to reception. "Thanks, Faye, I'll just be a minute or two," Elaine told her.

In the canteen the two women got their coffees and sat at a table in a corner.

After several false starts, Elaine said, "Susan's right, you know. You should have told us."

Denise nodded, tears already splashing onto the table.

She felt her chin being lifted by the soft yet firm hands of the woman she still loved. "Denny, Susan's really hurt. And she's scared, too. Not just of this time, but of other times. You get carried away, Denny, and that scares me, too."

"I-I'm sorry, Laney. You're right, you're both right, I should have said, but I won't let it happen again! I promise!"

Elaine regarded her, brown eyes sad under her short blond hair.

"Sweetheart, I'm not sure there'll be another chance for it to happen. Susan's pretty upset, and, well, there's also the other thing. She hasn't had her results yet – they're due today – and what if they come back positive? You as good as told us yesterday that you thought we might have infected you, not the other way around. Are you going to always believe that?"

"No, Laney, no! I don't think that, I've always thought it was Jim. That one night, when I was so drunk I didn't think."

"Well, I'm not so sure Susan believes that. Besides, that's just what we were talking about, you get carried away." Elaine stood up to go.

"Do-Does this mean you're breaking up with me then? For good?" Denise felt the tears, and the sobs, getting worse, but couldn't stop herself.

"Let's not say for good, but I think we'd better cool things for a while. I think if we see what Susan's results are like first, and I talk things over with her, then perhaps I can get the two of you together and let you talk it out."

She reached across the table and took Denise's hand.

"Denny, I love you a lot, but for now I think its best we love each other as friends, not lovers. You can see that, can't you?"

"NO!" Denise cried. It was just as well the canteen was empty, although one of the staff looked across at Elaine who made a face back.

"No, I can't see that, but I'll have to live with it," said Denise, sadly, now controlling her sobs and wiping her eyes. "Come with me to the Ladies room? I need to redo my makeup, I expect."

Elaine once again held her chin, turning her face to catch the light.

"Hmm. There's been some damage, there, but we'll soon get you fixed up and ready to face the day. Come on, I'll fix you up."

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening Stan took Denise home with him.

"Anne'll be around in a little while, she's just got to finish up some stuff at The Firm and pop into her home. You and I can get dinner started," he told her in his car.

"Sure, fine." Denise answered. She didn't feel like talking a lot.

Denise watched the scenery fly by, her head against the car window. 'Have I lost Elaine as well as Susan?' she asked herself.

At Stan's house she busied herself in the kitchen to try to take her mind off things, with moderate success. Most of the time she was preparing the meal – nothing fancy, just roast belly of pork with potatoes, carrots and broccoli – Stan was with her. He didn't say a lot, that wasn't his style she thought, but his presence helped.

But whenever he had to leave her alone in the kitchen she felt down. She was just waiting for a phone call.

They were cooking for three, as Anne wouldn't have had time to eat. She arrived at about half past seven.

"Hi!" she said to Denise as she walked into the kitchen. Denise thought she looked weary but excited.

"Hi, Anne. Good day?"

"Yes, it was actually. Long but good. How are you bearing up?"

"So-so." She wiped a tear from her eye that had nothing to do with onion. "I'm frightened it's all going to end, Anne."

Anne came to her and pulled her into a hug. "What will be, Denise. You know you've always got us. We both love you too, you know."

Denise nodded, sniffling.

Anne helped her to finish dinner. Although she was at best an indifferent cook, she could help where Denise directed her. Denise was a really good cook, and when the three sat down to dinner they ate their meal with gusto. Stan had 'popped out' to get a bottle of wine, and for a short while the three simply sat and enjoyed good food, good wine and good conversation.

Then Denise's cellphone rang.

It was Elaine.

"Hello, Elaine?" Denise said after flipping her phone open.

"Denise? Susan's result's come back. It's positive."

'Oh, God!' thought Denise.

"Um. Oh, dear. When's she going to the clinic?"

"Tomorrow."

"Could you put her on, Laney?"

"I don't think that's going to happen, Denise. Susan says it's your fault, and she doesn't want to speak to you. Sorry."

"Oh, God! Laney, It was my fault but I didn't mean it! You've got to make her understand..."

"Denny, stop. I'm still your friend, but at the moment Susan doesn't want to speak to you. I'll do my best, okay?"

"But please, Laney, tell her I didn't mean it..."

"Denny, this isn't going to help. Maybe we just need some time, eh? Look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Denise heard the silence as the call was ended.

She looked up at Stan and Anne. "Positive. Susan refuses to talk to me."

Then she once again burst into tears.

Anne put her arm around Denise's shoulder and hugged her. Denise hardly responded at first, but when Stan joined in from the other side, kissing her cheek and nuzzling her neck as well, she giggled a little, still shaking with the after effects of her sobbing, but with a shaky smile on her face.

"I just realized," she said, "I can't even have comfort sex with you! Ironic, huh?"

Stan and Anne hugged and comforted her for a long time.

- - - - - - - - - -

The next day was Saturday, the second of December. Denise was still out of sorts but was now at least functional.

Mid-morning she heard Stan on the phone to Anne, trying to arrange lunch together.

"You can't? Oh, I see, well if you're busy, Anne, I'll just have to put up with the beautiful Denise!" As he said this he turned and winked at her. Stan's good humour lifted Denise's spirits a little more.

"Why, yes, Anne, she is here with me, listening. Sure, I'll put her on." He beckoned Denise to the phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"Denise, I'm incredibly busy with work here at the moment. Do you think you can look after our man for me today?" Denise could hear the salacious grin on Anne's face.

"Um, Anne, I'm not allowed..."

"Yes, I know. That's not what I meant. Stan needs company and fun, too, it's not just the sex!" Denise heard a giggle, and couldn't help but giggle herself. 

"No, but you can be sure he likes that part!" she told Anne.

"True, but can you keep him company for today? Please?"

"Well, Anne, it's a chore but because I love you, yes!"

They both laughed down the line at each other. Anne told her, "Denise, you look after Stan, get him to take you out to lunch somewhere nice and enjoy the day. I'll come over and see both of you later tonight. Okay?" Denise agreed, happy for a moment.

"Put Stan back on then, and I'll tell him!"

Not long afterwards, Stan was driving Denise to a pub that he'd heard of but never visited. 

"Have you been to this place before, Denise?"

"Yes, I've been a couple of times, though not for a year or so. It was good then. Typical country pub, but not the usual type of mementos hanging on the wall."

The 'Moon and Stars' was a small place, really just a traditional English country pub, but it looked cheery once you were inside and saw the brightly burning open fireplace and the smile from the barman. The owner evidently used to be a fireman as there were small items of equipment such as hose nozzles and helmets of various ages in nooks and crannies all around the place, and photographs of various men in fireman's uniforms looking proudly at the camera all over the wall.

The bar was traditional wood, stained by many years of beer and polish. The barman seemed cut from the same material, all weatherbeaten skin and bluff good humour. 

Denise sat at a small table about ten feet from the bar, and Stan got the drinks ordered. Stan picked up a menu and the barman asked, "Do you want a tab, sir?" Stan nodded and sat with Denise.

Soon enough they were enjoying the food. Stan had an excellent cheese ploughman's while Denise just had a salad, but it really was delicious. Stan agreed with Denise, this was a good pub for lunch.

So they enjoyed their lunch together, and Denise gradually came more out of the doldrums.

Afterwards, Denise asked if they could go to the park. Although it was December it was a fine day, so Stan said "Sure!" and drove home. On the way he asked her, "Do you have a bike, Denise? A pushbike, I mean?"

"No, Stan, not since I was a kid. Why?"

"I just thought we could ride there if you did, but no matter, we'll walk there."

Denise enjoyed the walk in the fresh sunshine. The pair wandered through the park, just enjoying each other's company. It wasn't until they'd walked back to Stan's house that Denise realized that the tension and heartache had left her, at least for a while.

She wrapped her arms around Stan's neck and drew him into a long kiss. "Thank you for today, Stan!" she told him, and she was rewarded by a wide smile.

Later that evening Anne came over. Denise thought she looked tired but happy, and Stan noticed it too.

"Finished?" he asked the tall blonde, and Anne nodded. She had circles under her eyes that the makeup didn't quite conceal, but nevertheless she said triumphantly "It's done, and it's going to work!"

"You still can't tell us what it is, though?" asked Denise, and Anne answered, "No, sorry, Denise. It's not my secret to give."

The three snuggled up on Stan's sofa, with Stan the meat in a two-girl sandwich, and watched a movie on Stan's system. Well, actually, they didn't. Long before it finished they were all fast asleep.

Denise woke up to find one arm had gone to sleep under Stan, while Anne was softly snoring on his other side. She tried desperately to remove the arm without waking Stan, but wasn't successful. He opened his eyes and said, softly, "Good morning, my love."

"Morning, sweetheart. Help me get up?"

Together they carefully moved the sleeping woman so that she was lying on the sofa and stood up. Denise massaged the pins and needles out of her arm while following a limping Stan into the kitchen. There he stretched to unkink his back before starting some coffee while she rooted around in his fridge to see if she could find breakfast.

"Christ, Stan, who does your shopping?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"I do!" was the expected reply, and she immediately answered, "It shows, Stan! We've got to get some decent food in here!"

Stan mumbled something under his breath and concentrated on making the coffee. Denise found eggs and some ham, and decided on ham omelettes for breakfast.

A couple of minutes later a sleepy looking Anne wandered into the kitchen. She sniffed appreciatively and mumbled "G'morning," sitting herself at the breakfast bar.

Stan triumphantly announced, "Coffee!" and began pouring. Soon they were all enjoying breakfast, and Stan was starting to feel more human. 

There was an unspoken agreement amongst them that going to 'Iorio's' would be a bad idea this week, and the weather – it had begun raining overnight and hadn't stopped yet – reinforced that.

"How about we just have a day together?" Stan asked. "We can read, listen to music, watch some movies or such."

"I can check up on my project from your PC upstairs, Stan, and check out your porn at the same time," smiled Anne.

"And I don't mind making dinner tonight, but we'll have to do some grocery shopping. I'm not putting up with pizza again!"

"I'll help!" said Anne. "It's about time I learned to cook, you can teach me."

The time flew by, and before they knew it they were looking at the clock in disbelief.

Anne looked ruefully at Denise as she took Stan's hand, but Denise merely gave Stan a deep kiss goodnight, and Anne a peck on the cheek. She said, "Goodnight you two!" as she closed the door to Stan's spare room.

Knowing what was going to be happening only a few feet away set Denise's fingers on a course below the covers. She'd already come once and was building up to a delicious second when she heard Anne cry "Stan!"

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning was Monday. As a result, of course, everyone was a little dour. Denise was also worried – she'd have to see Elaine, and find out how the land lay there.

Denise wondered what Stan's neighbours would be thinking as the three of them each got into their own cars and drove off in convoy. The short journey was quickly over, and the three of them parked close together in the car park. 

Stan led the trio into reception, where Elaine was already answering the phone. Denise looked at the small blonde hopefully, but was met with a slight negative shake of the head. Denise slumped a little, but carried on into work.




Equal Shares Ch. 37



Over the next couple of days Denise didn't exactly badger Elaine about Susan, but she did ask several times.

Finally on Wednesday afternoon, Denise walked into reception as Elaine was herself about to leave. She turned to say goodnight to Elaine, but paused when she saw her face. Elaine said, "Denny, I've tried but I can't bring Susan around. It's just not going to work, and she's getting annoyed with me for bringing it up. I wonder if Suse was really ready for a proper three way relationship anyhow, to be honest."

"Regardless, I'm going to stop pressing. I think that, at least for the moment, that's it. You and I can still be friends, and I'll always love you, but we can't be lovers, now. I'm really sorry, Denny."

Denise felt the tears staring to well up, but was able to say, "Oh, God, I'm sorry too, Laney. I really am so sorry!"

Then Elaine was in her arms, giving her a hug. A final hug, and a kiss on the cheek, and she had tears of her own, Denise saw. "I told you, I love you Denny. But you said it yourself, Susan and I are all but married, and I will not jeopardize that. Please don't ask me to."

She pulled away, holding onto Denise's hands for a moment, then turned and walked out of the door. Denise wistfully watched as the woman she'd loved for a long time walked out, hips swaying a little as they always did, away from her.

She felt an arm go around her shoulder, glanced up in shock and saw that Stan had come in, with Anne who came to her other side and put an arm around her too.

"I'm sorry, Laney!" she said, quietly. "This is my fault, I should have told everyone what had happened. It's my fault!"

"Shh. It's okay, Denise. It's okay. Let her go, now. We'll look after you, won't we Anne?"

"Of course we will!" she heard Anne say. "Come on, let's get you home. Do you want me to take you, or Stan perhaps? You can leave your car here, if you want?"

"N-no. No, thanks. I can drive myself home. But Stan, I got my 'all-clear' today." She suddenly turned a little shy, and couldn't really see why. "Um – Can I come over, tonight, please?"

Anne smiled, and Stan looked embarrassed, but Anne said, "Of course you can. Stan will look after you, tonight! Won't you, Stan!"

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 38



"So, Stan, you think you're up to looking after two women's needs, again?" 

Stan snorted. "Not if it's going to be like last night all the time, Denise. I'll have to hire in help!"

"Yeah, right. Try it and see where it gets you. Although…"

Stan stuck his tongue out at Denise, who blew a raspberry in return. They both laughed at one another.

They were sitting at Stan's breakfast bar drinking coffee. Denise had brought in some cereal, and they were both eating a bowlful. Last night had been, well, tiring for Stan, but enormous fun and yet deeply emotional, too. Denise had been hurting, and Stan had done his best to relieve that hurt. He grinned. He thought he'd relieved it multiple times…

But now they had to go to work. Stan got up, grabbed the bowls, cups and cutlery and quickly washed them up. With two women to please, he'd quickly found that keeping the place tidy was preferable to having both of the women in his life jabbering at his ear. Denise wiped them dry and Stan put them away. He turned to see Denise regarding him with a smile, then she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"Good boy," she told him. Stan grinned back.

"So," she said as they put their coats on, "Anne on for tonight?"

"Yes, provided she's not working so late she decides not to bother."

Denise looked at him, carefully.

"Stan? Are you all right with what Anne's doing?"

"Yes. No. Well, yes, I understand that she's working a lot, but what I don't see is why."

"Hmm?" she asked him as they went out of the front door.

"I mean, I know she's got a project she's overseeing at work, but, well, the other project managers don't seem to have to put in the hours Anne is, especially at home," he answered, locking the door.

"So do you think there's something wrong?"

"With her project? I don't think so, the other people in her team aren't miserable enough."

Denise smiled and said "No, she'd be making their lives hell if it wasn't going right. I guess we'll have to ask her?"

"Ask Anne? Just like that?"

"Got a better idea?"

Since Stan didn't, he kept silent. He just wasn't sure he wanted to ask a bald question like that of Anne.

Later that morning Stan went to see Anne. He found her busy at work as usual, along with her staff. 

"Hi Anne! How are you today?"

Anne turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles around her eyes. She looked sallow, drained, but there was a fire in the core that was not only hot, but hotter. Anne was doing what she did, working flat out with a goal in mind, Stan knew, and was well on top of it. He just didn't know what it was.

"Oh, Stan, hi, love. I'm fine, and you?"

"I feel better than you look, Anne. You look shattered. You're working too hard. Coming over tonight?"

"I'll try to, Stan, I really will. I should be over for about nine o'clock, I expect. Will that be okay?"

Stan smiled and said, "Of course, Anne. I'll look forward to seeing you then."

In the event, it was half past eight that night when Stan got a call from a distracted sounding Anne.

'Stan? It's Anne. Look, I won't be able to make it tonight after all."

"Anne, are you sure?"

"Yes, Stan. I'm sorry, but I really have to concentrate on this for a bit longer tonight. Sorry"

"Well, okay, love. I'll order an Indian meal and mope all alone without you. Just joking!"

He wasn't entirely joking. Anne knew that.

"Oh, Stan. I'm really sorry, but I can't leave, I just can't. I can't even explain why, just now, but I will soon, I promise."

"All right, Anne. But I'll hold you to that. I love you Anne, and it's hard for me to watch you run yourself into the ground like this. If you say you're all right, I'll go along with that. For now."

"All right Stan. I love you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."





Equal Shares Ch. 39



"Where, Anne?" asked Stan, mildly. But he was anxious, twisted up inside. "Is it far?"

"No, Stan, not far. I'll commute. It's about an hour each way, about sixty miles or so up the motorway."

"So you're going to stay with us?" asked Denise, looking and sounding troubled.

"Yes, of course!" Anne answered, sitting up straight.

"Thank God!" muttered Stan, and Anne took his hand in both of hers. "I wouldn't leave you, silly!" she told him.

"Good! 'Cuz we're not planning on letting you go!" Denise exclaimed.

Suddenly, Anne just simply broke down. Her face crumpled and she turned away from them both. Stan could hear her sobs. He and Denise moved together to comfort the crying woman.

Stan kissed her underneath her ear, while Denise restrained herself to merely hugging her, murmuring "It's all right. We love you, Anne," repeatedly. Anne simply let them do this for a while. Then she shook herself a little and pushed them away. She stood, sniffing back her tears and fetched herself a tissue. 

Stan watched as one of the two women he loved fought herself back under control. He was continually amazed at Anne's control, her self-discipline. When her mastery over her feelings, burst like this he knew there had to have been a major reason.

Finally she seemed to be in command of herself again. She looked up at Stan, then over to Denise. She told them both, "I'm sorry about that. I don't know what came over me. I'd been holding this in for a while, now, since Sid got into contact with me. He told me I had to keep it secret, "deeply under the rose" as he put it, and I couldn't say what was happening to anyone. But in the end I had to tell you, I had to. It wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't fair to me, either. I'm so sorry, and then you go and say that to me. I thought you'd both be upset and angry with me. To be quite honest I was frightened about what you'd say. Thank you!"

As Anne spoke, tears began to flow down her cheeks again and, at the last, her voice broke once more. But she visibly commanded herself to stop, Stan could feel the order radiating out from her centre, and she dabbed her eyes once more.

"God, I must look a mess!" Anne said. Denise immediately replied "God, I wish I looked half as good as you even when you are a mess!"

"Ladies!" Stan called, making a "Time-Out" motion with his hands. "You're both beautiful! Stop trying to out-humble each other!"

Denise looked at him and stuck her tongue out. Anne reached over and gently punched him on the arm. Denise clipped his ear. Suddenly they both launched themselves at him.

For a while it looked as though Stan might win and pin them down, even with both of the ladies combined against him. But then Anne demonstrated that she'd been paying attention to his reactions in bed – she tickled him underneath his foot. Stan howled, he flopped, he begged, but with Denise grabbing his other foot he had no chance. Eventually Denise had mercy on him and let go, and Anne followed suit. Stan had tears in his eyes, but the other two were grinning from ear to ear. Denise turned to Anne and held up her hand for a high five, and Anne slapped it.

"And let that be a lesson to you!" Anne told him.

"What for?" he asked, gasping

"Whatever! I'm sure you must have done something wrong!" she answered him, and Denise nodded in agreement.

Stan was happy that they'd stopped tickling him, but even happier that the mood had taken a turn for the better.

"So, can you tell us the story, now?" he asked Anne, once he'd got his breath back.

"Well, okay, but this really is hush-hush, all right?" she told them. "Sid's come up with a pretty innovative design idea, and asked me to come up with an independent proof-of-concept design to show to some venture capitalists. He's setting up a company to complete the design and turn it into a real product, if he can get the finance in place. I don't know much about that end of things, sorry.

"But I've just finished the first simulation run of the POC design, and it comes out clean. So I sent it to him this morning, for him to get some more in-depth simulations run – I can only get so much done here, and I can't do it at The Firm, obviously. So, for the moment, my extra work hours are at an end. Thank goodness!"

"That's got to be good news, anyway," Stan said, and his sentiment was echoed equally by Denise.

"Yes, well... it's only a temporary respite I expect. But to really go further I have to have access to more powerful tools than I can use at home, and that's going to be dependent on Sid getting the financing. If he can manage that, then I expect I'll be handing in my notice the next day. That's one of the reasons I've been pushing hard at work, to get my project wrapped-up there as far and as clean as possible so Percy can appoint someone to take it over with a chance of success."

"You do realize what you're letting yourself in for, don't you?" asked Denise. "That commute's going to be hell!"

"Tell me about it!" Anne groaned, "but it's the only way, really. I simply can't do the work from home at all, even if I wanted to – I need those software tools, and a high end workstation to run them on."

"When?" Stan asked.

"If it comes off at all, that is, if Sid gets the first tranche of money, it'll be soon. January, February at the latest. I fully expect to hand in my notice in January and be working full-time for Sid very soon after that.

"But in the meantime, we've got Christmas and New Year. I expect that'll be my last chance to really relax for a while, and I want to make the most of it!"

"Cheers to that!" Denise exclaimed!

- - - - - - - - - -

Christmas was coming fast, and Stan was wondering what to get for his special ladies. He had to find something for his assistant, Elizabeth, too.

As usual, Stan did most of his shopping online. He quickly found the perfect gifts for 'his ladies' as he was now accustomed to thinking of them, and something for the older lady. He also selected personal gifts for Denise and Anne.

- - - - - - - - - -

Of course, every day at The Firm they still saw Elaine. Stan could tell that Denise was having a difficult time adjusting once more to having Elaine as only a friend, not a lover and confidante. He knew it was something that only time could cure, so he and Anne simply did their best to help her through it.

Now that Anne was free of the bone-numbing workload that she'd been under, and merely working about ten hours a week overtime, she and Stan took Denise out as much as they could.

It was Friday, less than two weeks before The Firm had its annual Christmas party before closing down until the New Year. Stan had managed to get tickets for "The Phantom of the Opera" at Her Majesty's Theatre, Haymarket, – it was Denise's first West End Musical.

"Are you sure I'll like this, Stan? I mean, musicals aren't really my scene," she told him on the drive into London.

"Oh, yes, you'll love it!" Anne replied before Stan could answer. "There's something about live musical theatre. I just love it. And it's not as if you don't like the songs – You've been humming "Phantom" for weeks now."

"Yes, but that's because Stan bought me that Nightwish album, and it's on that. I don't think it'll be quite the same!"

"You'll be surprised, I think," Stan said. "Its pretty close. Yes, Denise, I'll stake dinner out tomorrow night on it. You'll love it."

"But you're already taking us out tomorrow, Stan," Denise protested.

"Then I can't lose, even if I lose, can I?" he said, smiling at her in the rear view mirror.

Parking in London was never easy, but Anne had an advantage – Sid had opened an office there, well within easy walking distance of Southgate tube station. It had an allocated parking space that she'd made sure was free. So Anne was in the front reading the directions. Stan hated driving in London, but it was easier if he didn't have to navigate. It was a case of adjusting to it, and Stan found that he became more assertive as the drive went on. He had to, to make headway – everyone else was intent on taking full advantage of any hesitation! They made it with plenty of time to spare, got out and walked the short distance to the Tube station.

They got off at Green Park, and walked the quarter mile back up Piccadilly to St. Jermyn's Street and the theatre. Stan's careful research had ensured good seats – it was easy to get cheap ones, where the view was partially obscured by pillars – and after ordering interval drinks they sat down to enjoy the Phantom's use of Christine as his face and voice to project his music.

Stan liked 'Phantom', but he'd seen it before. He kept a careful eye on Denise. This was her night, and he wanted to be sure she was enjoying herself. After all, it was his suggestion. To his delight, it was obvious that she was more than just merely enjoying the show – she was spellbound. Good!

At the interval, they ran laughing to the bar and grabbed their drinks. The ladies had gin and tonics and Stan had just tonic as he still had to drive home.

"That was superb!" Denise yelled in his ear over the hubbub.

"I told you!" Stan answered in similar style. "There's something about Musical Theatre that's just more than simply going to the cinema. I love it, I just wish I could go more often!"

Tonight, Stan was wearing a smart black suit and tie, with a white shirt – basic 'smart dress', but not the full tuxedo. Anne was also wearing black. The tall, elegant woman was in a simple off-the-shoulder 'little black dress' that emphasized her long legs and slim figure, while Denise was wearing a longer length dress in a deep shimmering emerald green with a deep décolletage that emphasized her bust and drew the eye away from her waist. Earlier, Stan couldn't help a feeling of pride as he saw eyes – and heads – follow the ladies as they had walked with him to the Piccadilly Line station.

He also couldn't help but notice that both Anne and Denise were getting admiring looks. Neither was above a little preening under the attention they were getting, but both made it perfectly clear – by hugging Stan every chance they got – that they were taken. That made Stan preen!

They went back to their seats, and Stan allowed himself to enjoy the rest of the show without distraction. At the end all three were on their feet applauding, then it was time to go back to the car and get themselves home.

Anne was sleepy by the time they got to Stan's Mondeo, and he thought he could remember how to get out of London, so he let her close her eyes and drift away. A little over an hour later they were home. Stan woke Anne up and turned to Denise to find that she was awake, bright eyed.

He smiled at her, and her answering smile left him in no doubt as to what she wanted next. Stan was pretty tired, it was well after midnight, but his adrenaline had been flowing as he drove quickly home, and he felt awake, and alive.

Stan quickly walked around and helped Anne out, then opened the door for Denise. Together they assisted Anne into Stan's home and up the stairs. She tiredly kissed Stan goodnight, waved to Denise and said "Have fun!" before going to bed.

Stan and Denise were barely into his room before he was on her, hungrily taking charge. He undid the fastening on her dress while tasting her lips, caressing her mouth with his hungry tongue. She plastered herself against him, one hand behind his head pulling him to her, the other on his ass, forcing his erection, already solid, against her sex.

There were a very few, short moments when they tore themselves apart to take off their clothes, but soon Stan was able to push Denise onto the bed, lying against her and caressing her with one hand while he held her hands captive with the other. Denise moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. His urgent need suddenly brooked no delay and he passed his hand between her legs to find her lower lips engorged, open and very, very wet.

Denise was as turned on as he was and quickly he slid into her. She moaned, "Oh, Stan..." in pleasure into his ear as he kissed her neck just below her ear. Stan was in heaven too, feeling his dick encased in warm, wet velvet. He took her hands in one of his, pulling them up and laying them flat on the bed above Denise's head as he began to thrust into her. This wasn't going to be a slow, sensual lovemaking, this was raw sex and it seemed Denise was on fire as much as he was, matching him move for move.

Stan ground a little at the peak of each thrust, working his pubic bone against Denise's hood, bringing gasps and moans from her. Stan's awareness contracted down to only feeling her body under him, writhing in pleasure in tune with his movements as he expressed his lust. Her red hair was matted to her forehead as she frankly rutted with him, sweating and gasping. He was grunting a little with the effort himself, but he knew this wouldn't take long. Before Denise could go over her peak Stan found himself emptying his balls, eyes shut, mouth open and his whole body rigid as steel as he forced every last millimeter of his cock as deeply into Denise's cunt as he could.

He fell off Denise and rolled away, then rolled back to embrace his lover. She smiled at him.

"Sorry," he said, but Denise laid a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"No need, Stan. I don't know what got you fired up, but whatever it was, we'll have some more of it! For now, let's just cuddle and sleep, and we'll see about picking up again in the morning, hmm?"

Post-coital lethargy was stealing over Stan, but he didn't want to leave her high and dry. He drew himself up on one elbow and placed his other hand on her mons, caressing her open lips with his fingers, feeling the mixture of fluids there. Denise started to protest again but Stan leaned into a kiss that silenced her as effectively as her finger had silenced him a moment earlier.

He put pressure on her clit with the body of his hand as he pushed first one then a second finger into her, feeling her response as she arched her back. He heard a muted "Mmm!" as she exhaled into his mouth, and he began to finger-fuck her, expertly. This was something that he'd become good at in twenty years of marriage, and Denise was still not completely off the boil from the sex a few minutes ago, so it wasn't long before he felt her muscles spasm in release.

Stan never tired, knew he never would tire of experiencing this, bringing a partner he loved to orgasm. It was enthralling, and now he was able to express his love, not just his lust. Denise opened her eyes as she came down from her first orgasm to find Stan watching her, maintaining eye contact as his fingers caressed Denise's outer lips. He whispered "I love you," and Denise smiled, then caught her breath as Stan began to play more urgently with her, shifting so he could play with her ample breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth, stroking it sensuously with his tongue.

He brought Denise to another, higher peak before she grew too sensitive and pushed his hand away. "Enough, Stan!" she told him, and he subsided. Denise lay beside him, gradually coming back to earth before throwing both arms around him, kissing him soundly and telling him "I love you too, you beast!"

They slept soundly for the rest of the night.

- - - - - - - - - -

A week before the actual Christmas break began, it was The Firm's Christmas lunch. In accordance with long-standing tradition, this was on the Thursday before the break, consisted of starter, main course and sweet, and was served by the directors of the company.

Stan, Anne and Denise entered together. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Denise look startled, and looked to see why.

Elaine was at a table beckoning them on, smiling brightly. Stan gave a small shrug and went where he was bidden, pulling Denise along behind him. Anne had no hesitation and settled in next to Elaine. Stan sat opposite on the table of four, leaving Denise nowhere to sit except next to Elaine on her other side.

"Well," Elaine explained, "I think it's silly, you and me not being able to talk to each other. So I thought I'd solve it. Besides, I have news."

Denise sat silent, so Anne said, "News? Do tell!"

Elaine smiled. She brought up her left hand for all to see. There, on her ring finger, was a ring. A ring with a small, but significant, solitaire diamond.

Anne gasped, but Denise squealed. She reached forward and quickly hugged Elaine, saying "Oh, congratulations Laney!" before she suddenly let go, looking embarrassed.

"Don't be a silly muppet!" Elaine said, a little cross as she grabbed her and hugged her back. Then she held her hand in front of her and said "It looks good, doesn't it? We bought identical rings. We plan on the ceremony being sometime in the spring." Elaine looked down at the table. "I'd love it for all of you to be there," she said, softly.

"I'd love to be there, too, Elaine," Stan answered. Anne nodded firmly, too, but Denise looked doubtful.

"Denny, please say you'll come? I really want you to, you know?"

Denise opened her mouth, shut it again, appeared to think for a moment and tried again. "Laney, I'd love to come, but I'm not sure Susan will want me there. I don't want to cause a fuss or anything."

"Hush," Elaine told her, "let me handle Susan, and I'll make sure you realise that you're wanted, by both of us. Okay?"

Denise nodded, and Elaine looked happily from one to the other at the table. "Now, let's see what's inside the Christmas Crackers!" she said, brightly, "I want to enjoy the meal!"

Stan looked around. They were the centre of attention, and some knowing looks were being directed their way, but he decided that was a problem for another time – for now, he'd simply enjoy himself in the company of three beautiful women, two of whom he loved, and who loved him back.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 40



Stan had found that the loosely fixed 'alternate days' arrangement that they had come to was actually very loose. This last week, with Anne now finally free from the enormous pressure she'd been under, it had been the spectacular blonde who had spent most evenings with him. Saturday night Denise stayed with him, then on Sunday Anne again claimed her turn.

"Anne, not that I mind, but how come you're with me so much at the moment? I don't want Denise to feel left out."

Anne, snuggled up alongside him in bed, stroked his face with one long sensuous finger. "No, it's okay. Denise and I talked about it. She knows I missed out a lot while I was doing that work for Sid, and that I'll be in a similar position soon as well, though hopefully not as bad! So she told me to relax, enjoy myself, and spend more time with you for now. She knows she'll be getting more than her share soon enough!"

"Hmphh! Passing me round like a piece of meat!" Stan complained, but Anne knew him too well.

"Yes, my darling, and you love it!" she told him, and kissed him. One thing led to another, and Stan found himself on his back deep inside his lover, looking up at her concentrated expression. As she rode him to a climax he met her movements with his own, then rolled her over and thrust wetly into her, harder and faster, until he came with a cry of his own.

"God I love you!" he gasped, still moving weakly in her.

"I love you right back, my sweet," she told him, pulling him down into another long kiss.





Equal Shares Ch. 40



"I love you too, darling, but didn't you say something about unwrapping?" he asked her with a smile. She grinned back, stood, keeping his arms about her and twisted in his grip so she was now facing him. Tilting up her face, she offered her lips for a kiss, an offer that Stan gratefully accepted.

The kiss deepened, and tongues clashed, dueling for possession. Stan broke first, descending on Denise's neck, then moving up to her earlobe. Denise purred and ran her hands down Stan's sides before pulling at his shirt. Stan reached up for the buttons on her green jacket, but found that Denise's attention to his own shirt buttons made undressing her awkward at best, and in fact almost impossible.

It didn't take too long for the shirt to be unbuttoned and Denise then tugged it off – but not before Stan had to intervene to remove his cufflinks. Then he grabbed her hands and told her "My turn!" waiting for Denise's nod before reaching for the jacket buttons once more. Now it was easier and the three buttons were undone in a flash, and the jacket wasn't on her much longer. Stan decided to leave the blouse for later, and instead reached for Denise's waist. She leaned towards him and they kissed as he opened the clasp and pulled down her zip. Stan's breathing was growing short with the excitement as she stepped out of the trousers, leaving those lovely legs, that she normally kept hidden, on display for his approving, lustful gaze.

"I've been talking to Anne, she says you like this," she told him in a dark and sultry voice, and then she struck a model pose before walking up to him, crossing her feet over at each step, causing her breasts to jiggle inside her blouse. She reached for his belt, and then they finished undressing each other in a frenzy of movement, clothes chucked uncaringly on the floor as their hands and lips roamed over each other's bodies.

"Eat me, Stan, I want your tongue!" she cried. And Stan was only too willing to oblige, as Denise lay back on his bed and spread her legs in invitation.

Stan crawled up the bed to her, inhaling the giddying scent of her obvious arousal. "God, I've been wanting this since mid afternoon and those dances, Stan!" she told him as his tongue made contact. Stan felt her shiver, and he danced his tongue around, tasting, nibbling sometimes, seeing her open still more as she flushed red, her lips now deep pink and glistening with her moisture combined with his saliva. Stan really enjoyed giving pleasure to the women he loved, and Denise was loving every minute of this.

It didn't take long for her breathing to turn to gasps and for her back to arch in pleasure. Stan kept her going up and up for a few moments, but finally Denise reached down and drew him up her body. "I want you inside me, Stan," she told him in a sultry voice, and Stan was only too willing. Seconds later he had the glans of his penis at her entrance. As he pushed, gasping at the wet furnace heat he encountered, he looked up and met Denise's eyes, lids lowered and full of love that he knew was matched by his own.

Stan expected their lovemaking to be fast and hard, but having just come Denise was sensitive, so they instead made slow, gentle love, very gradually stoking the fires. It was several minutes before he asked her "Want to be on top?" and Denise nodded. So Stan rolled, managing to keep them together as they reversed positions. Denise pulled her hair back over her shoulder and leaned back a little, looking for the right place to stimulate her clit on the grind, then found it and smiled in deep satisfaction. A few minutes of this and Denise came once more, her body shaking, her muscles contracting on Stan's cock. Her involuntary spasms milked and pulled him with her so that he spurted into her from deep within.

Afterwards they lay next to each other, still gasping, when Denise flopped over to face him.

"Um. Stan, I've got a confession to make."

'Oh, God, what can this be?' thought Stan, but the only noise he made was a grunt as he turned his head to face her.

"I really fancied Anne tonight. I really wanted to do it, pull her into bed with us, with me. I wanted to bury my face in her, to taste her. I was this close to asking her, and I'd have been wrong, wrong, wrong to do it. Even if she'd gone along with it. It would have broken us up. Don't let me be stupid, Stan! Please?"

Stan reached out for her with his outer arm, cuddling the now crying woman to his chest. "It's okay, Denise, it's okay. I know you're tempted – Anne's enough to tempt anyone – but you didn't give in, you didn't take advantage, she wasn't offended and all's well. Shhh…" and he stroked her until her breathing became slow and even, and soon slept himself.



Equal Shares Ch. 41



The morning after the night before was not nice, but copious amounts of water and painkillers helped, along with several cups of coffee.

All three gathered in Stan's kitchen, listlessly going through the motions of making breakfast. Finally, Stan said "Hey, we ought to go to Iorio's for breakfast. Getting out of the house would do us good, anyway."

"I never thought I'd hear you advocating fresh air, Stan!" grumbled Anne, though she had a slight smile on her face.

"He's probably right, though," Denise thought out loud.

"I know. Well, even a stopped clock's right twice a day!" Anne answered, and the two ladies sniggered at Stan

"I'm damned if I'm walking though. It looks freezing outside this morning! I'll take my car," said Stan, ignoring the jibes which only got worse after that.

When they entered Iorio's Stan was surprised to be greeted by Susan and Elaine.

"I thought you'd be still in bed, Elaine. Up all night partying, and still up and about this morning? I wish I could do that!" he told the diminutive girl.

Elaine looked shyly at Susan. "No, I kinda left the party early. You guys were still there. I wanted to come home to Suze..."

Susan reached over and took her hand. Stan and Anne smiled, and Denise said, "Aww, Ain't love grand!" and had to dodge a piece of breadstick thrown by Susan.

The friends sat together, exchanged news and gossip, sharing who'd been seen with whom at the party. After a while though Susan took Elaine's hand again and said, "You know that there's no formal invitations or anything, but we would both like you guys to come to our ceremony. It'll not be much, but you've all been very supportive, and you're our friends, so we want you there."

"Even me, Susan?" Denise said in a very small voice, looking down at her hands on the tabletop.

"Especially you, Denise. I think I can safely say, you know us best of all! And, well... I know I probably overreacted to what happened, and I don't want to break the friendship. So yes, we – I – want you to come, Denise."

Denise finally looked up at Susan. As Stan watched Denise, he saw hope flare, then die, eventually to be replaced by acceptance.

"I'd love to come, Susan, Elaine. Thanks," she said, quietly, sincerely. Stan nodded as well. But Anne seemed upset.

"When's it likely to be, Susan?" she asked.

"Probably the second week in February," announced Elaine.

"Oh, God. I don't know if I can make it!" Anne blurted. "I need to explain. I'm almost certainly leaving The Firm – that's not for public consumption, by the way. Not yet. But if it comes off, I'll be working God knows how many hours a day with no time off for good behaviour, or bad behaviour, either, Stan, so don't you say it! I'll try, honestly I will, but I just can't promise to be there."

Susan touched Anne's hand briefly. "It's okay, Anne. If you can't make it, we'll understand, but we'd love it if you were."

- - - - - - - - - -

The couple of days before Christmas were an unaccustomed rush for Stan. In previous years, when Caron was still alive, she'd done much of it herself and all Stan had had to do was shop for and have her presents store-wrapped. This year was different. He'd already bought the presents for everyone, but wrapping them was not something he felt he'd be very good at.

Still and all, it was a job that he felt he had to do, so he did it. Actually, Stan was well pleased at the end. He was looking forward to giving his lovers their presents.

Then there were the cards for his more distant relatives, the aunts and uncles, cousins and so on. They'd all reached the point where the only contact they had was the twice-yearly exchange of Christmas and birthday cards. This was the main thing that Caron had done for him. He'd completely neglected it last year, but now he felt that duty was duty and, after all, they were family. So he looked for Caron's old address book.

Stan found it, began to look through it, and was quickly immersed in memories. Caron and he had been to this cottage in Ireland about ten years ago; then they'd corresponded with the owners a few more times. He remembered the cottage well: very Spartan looking on the outside, but inside it had gas-fired central heating, a satellite receiver and much, much more. The beds were large, and comfortable, and fun...

Stan spent well over an hour lost in his memories of the time there, and other times when he and Caron had been away together. A holiday in Tenerife which was their actual honeymoon, delayed a couple of years; a week in the highlands at another cottage that he'd loved but Caron hadn't; and many and various weekends away to various places.

He was still there, sat in his recliner when Denise came in. "Hi Stan!" she called from the doorway as she hung up her key.

Stan shook himself. "Hi Denise!" he answered, pulling himself together. It was already near dark – where had the time gone?

Denise entered the room, and Stan closed the address book, placing it on the coffee table with his uncompleted cards.

She took one look at his face, quickly crossed the room, bending to hug him. "Stan, whatever's the matter?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing really. I just got lost in memories, that's all."

"I'll make us a cup of tea and then you can tell me about it," she said.

A few minutes later, Stan began telling Denise about the cards, and Caron's address book, and then the memories it had invoked. She let him talk, interjecting a careful question every now and then to keep him going when he faltered. By the end Stan felt desperately tired. It seemed to him that Denise had shouldered a lot of the grief that he'd felt that afternoon. It wasn't completely gone, of course – he knew it probably never would – but he felt better, lighter somehow.

He looked up at the pretty red haired face and asked, for the first time, "Was there something you wanted, Denise?"

"Yes, actually, Stan. But you obviously needed to share that first, it's okay. But you do realise, it's way past the last posting date for cards?

That fact had obviously been lost on Stan. Denise's eyes twinkled, and she said, "Better late than never, Stan. Family is important. You can always blame the Post Office – just get them into the post as soon as you can."

Then Denise's face sobered, "Um, I wanted to ask if you minded if I made myself scarce this evening."

"Of course not, but...why?" Stan asked. 'Is it another woman – or worse, another man?' he thought, his anxiety rising.

"Anne. I thought it would be a good idea for you to spend some time with her... alone," she said. Stan couldn't help the sigh of relief that came out, and Denise looked at him quizzically.

"What? Oh, nothing – just me being silly. Um, yes, of course, Anne," Stan spluttered out in embarrassment. Denise just kept looking at him, with deceptive calm. Stan realized he had better head off a storm. "I thought you'd maybe found another woman," he admitted, feeling a partial truth was the best thing in the circumstances.

Denise said, with a tinge of bitterness, "Hah! As if. I'm afraid that side of me has had to go into hibernation for a while. No, I was thinking about you and Anne. When was the last time you two made love?"

Stan spluttered some more. "I-I can't remember, actually," he told his lover – his other lover, he reminded himself.

"There you are then!" Denise cried, triumphantly.

"This has to be the weirdest conversation I've had," Stan said. "Being told off by my girlfriend for not making enough love to my other girlfriend!"

"Ah, yes, but you know I'm right, don't you, Stan?" Denise replied, waving a finger at him. Stan could only nod.

"Are you always this up-front about things, Denise?" he asked her when he'd recovered a little.

"Oh, no, Stan. I can be demure when I want," she answered, looking up from under her lashes at him. Stan's heart thumped at the sight, and he stood, reaching out to her.

"I think that, before I devote myself to my other girlfriend, this girlfriend might like a demonstration of how much I love her," he said, tenderly. Denise smiled, eyes now dancing with anticipation. She let herself be drawn to her feet and embraced him, offering her lips up to be kissed – an offer which Stan did not refuse.

Before they could get too carried away, however, Denise gently disengaged and eased away from him. "Not now, Stan. This day should be for Anne. I'll have my share another day – but your girlfriend needs you, now. She's been under a lot of stress, you know, and an unconventional relationship hasn't helped. I'm going to go now, and you can get yourself ready – I've already told her to come over here tonight."

"You what?" Stan spluttered, again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today.

Denise leaned forward to him again, speaking sweetly into his ear. "Just let us organise your life, Stan, you know you want to!" Then she drew back, whirled and began to go. Stan reached for her, and she stopped and looked at him when she felt the hand on her arm.

"I told you, I'm going to go. Now. Get some candles and a bottle of wine, organise a good takeout, put a movie into the DVD player and look after her, Stan. I'll see you tomorrow."

Denise kissed him briefly then turned away again. Stan watched her go, marvelling at her. She was a complex person, he realised once more. 'I wonder if I'll ever really know her?'

- - - - - - - - - -

By the time Anne showed up an hour later, Stan had done as he'd been told. The only thing not yet organised was the food, as he wasn't sure what Anne would like. But the room was softly lit by several candles and by the glowing fake coals of his gas fire. He was showered and changed, had a number of films ready for Anne to choose from, and a nice Muscadet in the fridge with glasses ready.

Anne opened the door and called out "Hello, Stan!" He could hear her putting her coat up on the hook, then she walked into the room and stopped. Stan had barely a glance at her black dress, the one she'd worn dancing, before she burst into laughter.

"What?" he asked her, grinning himself – he couldn't help it.

"Denise came to see you?" she said, once she'd mostly recovered. "Don't bother, I can see she did. She called me and told me to come around, wear something nice and be prepared for a little romance tonight. I wondered what was going on, but now I see – and definitely approve!"

Anne sashayed towards him, and Stan stood, uncertain of himself, caught in the sheer power of her sensuality. Without removing a stitch of clothing, Anne had turned up the sexual heat considerably.

He reached for her as she came to him and pulled her close. She challenged him with her eyes, and he lifted his face to meet her as she bent down to kiss him. An uncertain time later, by some unspoken communication, they released each other.

"I'll fetch the wine," Stan said, "while you decide what you want to eat."

"That's easy, Stan," she replied immediately, "I'll be doing my damnedest to swallow your dick so that I can get the cream!"

For the barest instant Stan was shocked, then his libido kicked back in and he hurried into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle. He returned, opened it with a flourish and poured two glasses, a smaller one for him and a generous one for her.

Anne was lying in repose on the sofa, eyes smouldering. She reached for her glass and drew it to her lips. Stan couldn't help but follow with his eyes as she took a mouthful of the wine, clearly enjoying it but maintaining eye contact with her lover.

"Maybe we'll order the food later," Stan said, huskily as he laid a hand on her knee and gradually stroked up her leg. The dress did not interfere as he moved up white, soft, silky thigh towards the damp heat at the top. He huffed as his fingers encountered soft curls instead of fabric and he knew that Anne had again worn no panties tonight.

Anne's eyes were dancing with barely suppressed laughter at his expression. He'd stopped, suddenly, breath held, and she touched his face gently. As she stroked his cheek she told him in a chocolate whisper, "Breathe, Stan, breathe. You're no good to me if you pass out!"

Stan took a convulsive breath and moved. He put his arms under Anne's thighs, lifted and parted them. His look challenged her to stop him. Anne had said she wanted his dick, but clearly was happy for him to go down on her too, so she spread herself, pulling the dress up above her waist and lifting her ass to improve Stan's access.

Stan took no further time. He began planting light, butterfly kisses on her thigh, moving gradually up, sometimes varying by licking or sucking for a moment. He reached her pubic hair and twirled his tongue among the curls, teasing her, breathing in her heady scent, now playing his fingers along the outside of the same thigh.

For a few minutes he played there, then he shifted position and began teasing his way up the other thigh. Anne's breathing was fast and shallow now, and Stan looked up momentarily to find her nipples standing out in sharp relief under her dress. Her hips were moving involuntarily as her excitement mounted but still Stan hadn't touched her where she clearly wanted him to.

Stan's hands moved to run up the inside of Anne's thighs. He saw the darker hair around her cleft, neatly trimmed to allow her to wear a small bikini if she wanted, contrasting with the paler skin there. Her dress was rudely hiked up above her waist, she'd slipped off her shoes but was otherwise as fully dressed as she had been when she'd entered the room. Her face was flushed and her nipples hard, but she barely made a sound, just caressing his head, caressing her breasts through the material or sometimes pulling on a nipple.

Stan finally relented and bent his head down, gently pulling Anne open with his fingers and taking a long, slow lick in the sensitive area between her inner and outer labia. Anne moaned, low and long, then did it again when he repeated on the other side of her sensitive pussy. Stan kept up the gentle treatment for several minutes, building Anne's arousal to higher and higher levels. Her juices liberally coated his tongue, her taste exquisite. She was hot, wet and humping, and Stan could no longer hold himself back but drove his tongue into the furnace.

Anne actually yelped, and Stan grinned at being able to gain the upper hand. Although, judging by the way she was moving, the heat and wetness, and the noises, Anne was enjoying herself all right. Stan wormed a finger into her, twisting his hand palm-up so he could crook the finger, looking for her G-spot. Soon her body went rigid as he rapidly flicked his tongue around her clitoris. She nearly exploded, and Stan was surprised to hear a high, keening wail as her pussy convulsed around his finger as he massaged her.

Stan moved back onto his heels on the floor, watching Anne shake her head, blonde hair matted to her forehead, drawing in deep breaths. Her eyes were wide and staring beyond the ceiling, her consciousness elsewhere. Stan was awed by the power of her orgasm.

"GOD!" she cried, and turned her head towards him, eyes finally focussing on his. "That was amazing! I don't think I've had one as good as that before, Stan. Are you trying to kill me?"

Stan felt her juices drying on his face, unable to speak, still overcome by the sight and feel and taste and sound of Anne's rapture. He loved her, he delighted in her orgasms, but this one did seem to be something special.

"How long have you been waiting for that, Anne?" he asked, shrewdly.

"Too fucking long!" she answered. "It's been weeks, Stan. I've been too busy, too tired, for way too long. You'd got me used to so much more, and then... then it all stopped. 

"But now, it's your turn, Stan."

They quickly removed their clothing. Anne, with far less to remove, sat down to wait for him, smiling as he balanced precariously on one leg removing each shoe and sock in turn.

She licked her lips, suggestively, while glancing down to his penis, jutting firmly in anticipation. "I believe I see something I promised I'd try to swallow," she said, softly. But Stan heard her well, and his dick swelled even more. "Ooh. It looks like someone likes the idea!"

Anne got up from the sofa and Stan sat in her place, legs apart. Anne took up a place on her knees in-between them. She reached for his erection, gently rubbing it at first, seemingly testing it. She seemed to be satisfied at what she found; she held it firmly, began licking the crown, wetting it, and kissing it. She made an 'O' with her mouth, slowly taking him in. Stan's breathing fluttered as he felt the wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue was an agile snake moving around him. Anne drew back and kissed the bulbous purple acorn again before lowering herself, deeper. Stan felt the back of her throat this time, and Anne held him there, still for a moment, before breathing in through her nose and forcing herself down again, further.

Stan could see the concentration on her face. He was frankly amazed. Anne had taken him deeper than she'd ever been able to manage before. Stan wasn't big, but there was barely an inch of his manhood outside Anne's lips. It felt incredible – but Anne wasn't finished yet. The flaring of her nostrils drew his gaze, and then she pushed herself down – and there was nowhere further to go. Stan felt the end of his steel hard erection being massaged by Anne's throat muscles. Then she drew back, slowly, letting his dick emerge from her lips.

"Wow!" Stan managed.

Anne smiled at him, though there were tears in her eyes too. "I've been researching, Stan. You can find 'How to do' articles on anything on the 'net!" Stan smiled back, but Anne continued, "I'll have to practice though Stan, I can't quite manage that with enough comfort yet. So you'll have to put up with an ordinary blowjob."

"Anne, my love, don't you know? There's no such thing as an ordinary blowjob. They're all wonderful, just some are more wonderful than others!"

"Spoken like a man!" she told him, mockingly.

"Spoken like a man who likes having his dick sucked!" Stan replied, and Anne thumped his thigh in mock disapproval before taking him in her mouth again.

Anne loved to make love to Stan's dick with her mouth. She kissed, she caressed, she sucked, she nibbled, she used her hands, she used her lips and her tongue. She took her time, taking Stan to a peak and holding him, letting it subside, refusing to take him over. Stan was going out of his mind. His hips jerked reflexively, he had to use all of his will to keep from driving Anne's head deeper onto his dick by grasping her head and forcing himself in. Anne played him like a virtuoso, building up his climax before settling into a hard, fast jerk-off rhythm.

"Wait!" Stan grated out. "I want to be inside you!"

Anne instantly stopped what she was doing. She stood, knelt on the sofa and placed her forearms on the cushion, bracing herself against the backrest. Looking back, she commanded, "Do me Stan! Hard!"

Stan leapt to obey. He knelt behind her, holding her hip with one hand and his spit-slick rod in the other. They adjusted heights and he placed himself at her entrance and pushed smoothly inside.

Stan had been close, but he wanted to enjoy this, and help Anne to enjoy it too, so instead of simply pounding away he started more slowly, with long, careful strokes. But Anne had brought him close to the brink and he soon saw that he'd not be able to hold out for long. Fortunately Anne was still very aroused herself, and the angle allowed his dick to rub her G-spot. Stan's thrusts increased pace, as he couldn't stop himself, then he felt her pussy begin to flutter around him as Anne neared orgasm.




Equal Shares Ch. 41



Anne's vaginal muscles clenched. She wailed again, the sound getting higher and higher in pitch until it cut off, and Anne just held her breath. Stan suddenly found it very difficult to keep thrusting. In fact if she hadn't been so slick with arousal he couldn't have done it. But he pushed his way through anyway, grunting with the effort himself.

Finally Stan went. His awareness shrank to his penis and balls, he felt the semen coursing up and into Anne, coating her insides. Once, twice, three times he erupted, then there were only a few small dribbles left. Stan was left desperately gasping for breath, the muscles in his buttocks and lower back were already aching and his heart was going hell for leather.

Gradually he came back to his senses. He reached down and drew Anne to sit next to him on the sofa. Her face was flushed. As he watched, she reached down and wiped a finger through her pussy lips, raising it to her eyes and showing it to Stan, too, before licking it off. It was an amazingly sensuous, actually downright sexy gesture and as Stan watched in disbelief his dick twitched a little.

Once they'd recovered their breath a little Stan poured out some more wine. He sank half a glass in one deep swallow before taking another, smaller one and swilling it around in his mouth for a moment. Anne was equally thirsty, and besides she was massaging her throat. "I'm glad I could do as much as I did, Stan, but it's something that I'll have to get used to," she explained. "You're getting me doing things I've not done with anyone before, Stan. I love you, and I love the way you make love with me."

"Now," she said, her voice changing to a command, "go grab a couple of glasses of water while I phone up some food. I'll get some Indian tonight." Stan nodded his assent and was in the kitchen before he realised... "Anne?"

"Moment!" she called, obviously on the phone.

Stan walked back into the room holding two glasses of water. "Your order, ma'am," he told her in a waiter's tone.

"Thanks," she replied absently as she was completing the order for the food. She put the phone down and looked up at Stan. "What?" she asked, seeing his expression.

"You ordered some water, Anne. I delivered it." But Stan couldn't keep from smiling, "You just can't help yourself can you, sweetheart? You just simply ordered me to fetch you some water, and I did. You've got that tone to your voice that you use sometimes, and people just can't help but obey!"

"Um... sorry? I don't know what to say, it's just me being me."

"Yes, I know, and I love you for it – but how do you think Denise would have reacted just then? She'd have done what I did, but I think she might well have been upset when why became clear to her. It's part of why people think of you as imperious – you've simply developed this habit of ordering people sometimes."

Anne held her head in her hands. "Oh, God. Am I that bad?"

"It's not bad, Anne, it's just something you do. When you're at work, leading a team – and you are a natural leader – it's appropriate. When it's just me, I don't mind at all. But if you try that with Denise, when it's just us, you'd better watch out!"

"I'll try to remember, Stan," she told him with a faint grin, "but what's this about 'I don't mind at all.'" You like being told what to do?" she asked, eyebrows high up her forehead and a challenging look in her eye.

"Most of the time I'm content to follow your lead, Anne, you know that," he told her, "but I noticed something just now. You like it when I tell you to do things when we're having sex, don't you? You couldn't get ready for me to enter you fast enough when I told you what I wanted."

Anne couldn't meet Stan's eyes. She was blushing furiously, but told him, in a very small voice, "I guess sometimes I like to be told what to do, Stan. Can I tell you a fantasy?"

Stan lay back on the sofa and pulled Anne to him, so that she was half laying on him, her head on his breast. "Go on, Anne, I'm listening, my love."

"It's a bit embarrassing. I've thought about this off and on for the longest time. I'm naked, except for a strip of fabric around my throat. I'm completely, willingly subservient to someone whose face I never see in the fantasy. He enters the room from behind me, orders me onto the bed on all fours, facing the wall. I jump to do his bidding and he simply enters me and uses me for his pleasure. I'm only too willing to do as I'm told. In the fantasy, that is. He pulls out of my pussy and orders me to turn around and suck him, and I do, and I love it. But I keep my eyes firmly down, never raising my gaze. Then he pulls out of my mouth before I've brought him off and turns me around again. This time he plunders my ass, Stan, he buggers me mercilessly, simply forces himself in and pounds into me, making me come just as he comes himself.

"It's at that point that I come, for real, when I fantasize about it, Stan. But I've never really wanted to do that – the ass thing, I mean. I know people do, I'm not that naïve – but I couldn't, I couldn't."

"Denise does," Stan murmured without thinking.

Anne heard him. "Does she now? Did you like it? Does she like it? Never mind, I don't really want to know – just don't ask me, Stan. Okay?"

"Methinks the lady protesteth too much!" Stan countered. But then he said, placatingly, "Don't worry my love. I'll not ask you to do something you're not happy about. But tell me more about the rest of it, the willing slave-girl thing. Do you want to try that sometime?"

Anne was quiet for a second or two, then said, shyly, "Maybe. I'll make sure you know when I'm ready to try that for real, Stan."

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 42



It was a bright, refreshing Christmas morning. Stan and Anne had agreed to meet at Denise's cottage since she was going to be cooking the first real holiday meal for their unorthodox family. Anne insisted on getting there early for breakfast so that they could all open their presents... as soon as possible!

There was, of course, no snow, but it was chilly. Stan rang Anne to ask if she wanted a lift. She gratefully accepted, so he drove around to pick her up.

Anne was ready and waiting when he rang her doorbell. Her white winter coat looked huggable and warm. Stan thought she looked incredibly cute with her matching hat and shiny white boots. "Merry Christmas!" she said, and pointed up. There, above Stan's head, was a sprig of mistletoe – so he just had to give her a kiss. Somehow he didn't think it was such an onerous task!

Anne was feeling light-hearted and playful that morning, it seemed, because as she ran past him and off down the path to his car, she knocked Stan's hat off his head. Before he could retrieve it and catch up, she was sitting demurely in the passenger seat as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Stan got in and, before starting the car, leaned towards her and murmured, "Payback can be a bitch, you know!"

"Is that a threat, little man?" she enquired, teasingly arching her brow. "Yup!" he replied, chuckling, and drove on towards Denise's place.

Denise greeted them both at the door with kisses – affectionately on the cheek for Anne, a smouldering kiss full of promise for Stan – and invited them in. "I've been looking forward to this... a lot! How about you, Anne?"

"Me? I'm just a little kid at Christmas. I always have been. It's my favourite time of year. I remember when I was 5 or 6, I used to try to stay awake and catch Santa, and I'd always strive to wake up really, really early to open my presents. I'd always find a stocking left on my bed. In it there'd be some fruit – always some fruit – and a couple of smaller toys, and usually a puzzle or two, as well."

"I'd get sweets, back when I was really little. Later it would be makeup, or a new hairbrush, or something like that, along with some toy or another to keep me quiet!" Denise answered.

"I remember getting cassette tapes for several years," Stan said. Both of the ladies looked at him. Then Denise said "What was it like in the Cretaceous period before CDs?" Anne gave her a high-five. Stan just poked his tongue out and gave them both the finger, and then had to defend himself from them as they smacked his arms. All three were grinning, and Stan couldn't repress a hearty chuckle.

In the little dining room they found that Denise had been up early in preparation. The table was set for the three of them to have their breakfast, and everything was well in hand. After a breakfast of toast and cereal, washed down with a lot of juice and coffee, Stan and Anne cleared up, telling Denise to go and relax. Several minutes later they were all gathered around Denise's tree. It was cosy in her small front room.

It was a small, real tree, set in a terracotta pot that Denise had dressed in festive paper. It was covered in decorations, varying from Santa in his sleigh (complete with reindeer) to simple bells, and sprigs of holly. The presents, all wrapped in their Christmas paper, lay underneath it. 

Stan handed out his presents to his lovers: two pairs of identically sized and shaped boxes. Denise gave him two, a smaller and a larger one, while Anne's present to him was only one medium sized carton. Anne and Denise exchanged boxes of different sizes.

Stan waited for Anne to rip open the paper on the first of her presents. She started with Denise's, which was a lovely white v-necked cashmere sweater. "Oh, it's gorgeous!" Anne said, "Thanks, Denise. Open yours, next!"

Denise duly opened her present from Anne. She gasped when she saw what was inside: the box was marked "DSI". "Anne? Dancesport International?" Anne just smiled, and Denise opened the box to find a matching cocoa coloured top and skirt, with a ruche waist and a ring detail at the front that would flatter Denise. The hemline was short with cut-outs that would enhance her already lovely legs. She looked a question at Anne.

"Soon, I'm going to be far too busy, Denise. Stan's going to need a partner." Anne turned to Stan and told him to open his present from her next.

"Okay," he told her, "but I have a sneaky feeling about this." He held up a box that now looked obviously about shoe-box sized. Sure enough, the box was marked "Supadance" and held a pair of black leather dance shoes.

"They're only practice shoes, Stan. But they'll be much better for you than those old dress shoes you've been wearing to dancing. You and Denise dance well together, and I'm going to be ferociously busy. I want you to promise me that you'll keep dancing, so that one day you'll be able to show me how it's done when I have time for lessons, again!"

Stan and Denise thanked Anne. Denise told him to open his presents from her, next. The larger was three DVD sets: Live Aid, the much more recent Live 8, and the Freddy Mercury Memorial Concert from 1992. "I've heard you tell how you were at Wembley for the first of those, Stan. I checked your collection, and you don't have them. Enjoy."

Then Stan opened the smaller box. Inside was an MP3 player. "That's from both of us to you, Stan. We thought it might be a way of dragging you from the 19th to the 21st Century!"

Despite the joke, Stan was touched. "You'll have to show me how to use it – I'm sure it will take a lot of very personal tuition!" he told them both, and got the laugh he was hoping for in response.

Stan gave Anne and Denise kisses in thanks, and asked them to open his presents. He indicated the slightly smaller boxes first.

There was rapid tearing of paper, revealing jewellery boxes. Inside were gold drop earrings, each with three hearts suspended from it. Two pairs of eyes regarded each other and then turned to look at Stan. All four were brighter, wetter than usual.

Smiling, Stan indicated the other packages. There was more tearing of paper. Anne's contained a sapphire and diamond pendant necklace. Denise's was identical apart from the stone – hers was emerald. Together, Anne and Denise kissed him, one on the cheek while the other kissed his lips, then alternating. Afterwards, both ladies put on their necklaces. Each admired the other's and Stan was the happy recipient of yet more cuddles and kisses.

Finally, Anne pulled away and said, "So you'll not be trying to keep anything quiet then, Stan?"

"No point," he replied. "It was all over the Christmas party anyhow. But I bought all of these before that – I knew that in our firm, everyone was going to know our business."

"They're beautiful, Stan. Thank you," Denise said, and Anne agreed.

Some time later Anne asked, "When's Elizabeth coming around?"

"I told her not to be later than one o'clock," Denise told her, "lunch should be around about two. She is bringing James, isn't she?"

"That's what was agreed, Denise," Stan said. "I doubt if James has had much to say about it, mind."

Sure enough, at one o'clock on the dot, the doorbell rang. Denise welcomed Elizabeth and James.

"Happy Christmas, Denise!" Elizabeth said brightly. James' smile was a little forced. "Oh, come along James!" Elizabeth told him. "Just because they're new people doesn't mean they bite, you know!"

After the greetings, Anne and Stan were left to entertain James while Elizabeth shot into the kitchen to see what she could do to help Denise.

As they sat in Denise's living room, Stan wondered how to start the conversation going. James just sat there, looking around, unable to meet anyone's gaze. Stan realised that he was simply someone who was unsure of strangers in a social situation and was unable to think of a way to break the ice. Anne came to the rescue, beginning a conversation about gardening that Stan couldn't begin to follow. The two of them were still going strong, with Stan trying to look interested, when Denise and Elizabeth came into the room.

"There! That's lunch cooking, now I have a few minutes. Thanks for your help, Elizabeth!" Denise said as she dropped into her chair. James stood and let Elizabeth sit. 

"I fancy a sherry, anyone else?" Denise asked. Everyone answered, "Yes, please," so Stan poured five glasses of sherry and handed them out. Anne poured some nuts into a bowl, and all were soon sipping sherry and nibbling on the pre-lunch appetisers.

"Presents!" cried Denise. "Let's give Elizabeth and James their presents!"

"How did I manage to hook up with a pair of pre-teens?" asked Stan of no one in particular. Denise grinned at him, but Anne told him "You're a fine one to talk. The way you keep staring at Denise's boobs makes me think you're still a baby yourself!"

There was more badinage, which only ended when Stan picked Denise up and threw her over his shoulder. He held her there with one arm and swatted her rump with the other saying, "I warned you!" the whole time trying unsuccessfully to hold in his laughter.

Stan let Denise down, and she wagged a finger at him. "Do that again and you get no Christmas lunch!" Stan countered by pulling her towards him and kissing her.

When he let go, she pulled away and said, "No fair, Stan! How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you kiss me like that?" Stan couldn't help it; he knew he was looking insufferably smug.

"Hey, where's mine?" asked Anne, as she stepped forward to claim her own kiss. Stan closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his lover in his arms, apparently intent on mounting him there and then. He opened them again and over Anne's shoulder spotted James, apparently trying to work out what was going on.

He eased Anne away a little, without letting go of her, and looked at Elizabeth. "You didn't tell James about our, er, domestic arrangement, then?"

Elizabeth's own eyes were full of mirth. "No, I hadn't, Stan. It... well, it just hadn't come up in conversation. But in any case, it's one thing to know it, and another to see it!" She turned to James. "Stanley, here, is the lucky man who has two girlfriends. And as you can see, they all get on well together!"

"I can see that!" James said, dryly. "If you ask me, you're just looking for trouble Stan – two women at once, they'll hen-peck you to death if they don't drive you mad first!"

This time it was James who had to protect himself – from three women.

"I don't envy you, Stan – though of course I can understand the advantages!" James had to duck some more, then! "But didn't the young lady say something about presents?"

"Yes, she did!" said Denise, brightly. She brought a large box and an envelope from under the tree. The envelope went to James, and the box to Elizabeth.

James gestured to Elizabeth to go first. She carefully undid the paper, revealing a boxed fragrant Gardenia. "Oh, thank you all so much!" she said. She looked expectantly at James, who opened his envelope. "A voucher for the Pro shop at the golf course! Thank you, too!"

"Well," said Stan, "we couldn't invite you around on Christmas Day and not give you presents, could we?"

"Well, we've not come empty handed either!" James said, presenting Stan with an envelope, too.

"What have you got, Stan?" asked Anne, while Denise moved to look over his shoulder.

"It's a voucher for Apricots," he said. James amplified, "I hope it'll be suitable for all three of you. I wasn't made aware of the full facts!" He finished up looking directly at Elizabeth.

"Oh, it's fine. I rang Apricots and told them to make sure it was suitable for all three of you, Stan," she answered with a smile.

After that, Denise served up a sumptuous Christmas meal. After a starter of prawn cocktail, apart from Stan who had a melon slice instead, all had roast turkey, potatoes, vegetables, cranberry and bread sauces. Afterwards, to considerable groans from Anne who declared that she couldn't eat any more, Denise and Stan went into the kitchen. Stan poured the brandy over the Christmas pudding and set light to it, and then Denise brought it in to the dining room. It was an altogether super meal that was enjoyed by all despite the slightly cramped surroundings. 

After lunch, Elizabeth and James left to go and see her son and daughter. Stan pulled Denise to one side and whispered in her ear. The redhead listened, turned and flashed a surprised smile at him and nodded.

Denise disappeared into the kitchen, and Stan sat down next to Anne, who was relaxing with a drink.

She asked him, "What was that about?"

"I told Denise what I'm going to offer you, Anne. She was surprised, but told me to go for it, so I will. I have another present for you, Anne."

So saying he drew a small, wrapped package from his pocket and put it in Anne's hand. She looked questioningly at him, but Stan merely indicated that she should open it.

Inside was a black velvet choker with an ivory cameo. "For sometime later, when you're ready," he told her. "You put it on when you want to play, and don't wear it if you don't. It's a simple way of showing me when you're in the mood. Or, you can simply tell me that it's a nice thought but you don't want to 'play' that way, and just wear it as a choker, not as a collar. It's up to you, the present is yours regardless, Anne."

"Oh!" Anne sat, looking at the choker for a couple of minutes, obviously in intense thought.

"It is okay, isn't it?" Stan asked, worried.

"Oh, yes, Stan, it's lovely. Um, I'm not sure I want to 'play' as you say though. Can I keep it until I make up my mind, please?"

"Of course you can, Anne. All the time you want, all the time you need. Just let me know when you've decided, huh?"

Anne looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"You're a dark horse, Mr. Hinch. Where did you come up with an idea like this?"

Stan smiled and told her, "You're not the only one who can research on the internet, Anne!"

"Well, Stan, I promise I'll let you know, sometime, okay? But for now, I'll just keep this safe." She put the choker into her handbag, reached for Stan's face and kissed him, tenderly, "I promise, Stan."

Denise came back into the living room bearing more drinks, and Stan turned on her TV set. The three sat close together on Denise's small sofa, relaxing, until soon all were asleep, with Anne and Denise resting their heads on Stan's shoulders.

- - - - - - - - - -

With The Firm having its annual shutdown period from the twenty first of December through to the start of the new working year on the third of January, all three of the lovers had some free time. Anne couldn't do much real work during the hiatus, so even she was forced to relax a little, though as Stan found when he went to visit her, that didn't stop her from reading trade magazines and scientific periodicals.

He chuckled when he found Anne reading one, telling her "I thought you were going to relax?" but Anne had looked up and said, "What? This is how I relax!"

Stan reflected that when he'd seen Denise the day before, her relaxation method, which involved wine, soft lights and music, was different from Anne's...

- - - - - - - - - -

That Thursday, three days after Christmas, Stan was visiting Anne again when the phone rang.

Anne, upstairs, answered it. A few minutes later she came down the stairs.

"That was Sid," she told him, "He wants me to start early. They've got another tranche of funding, and he's ready for me. It means I'll have to quit The Firm early, but Sid tells me he will pay off my notice period. So much for a rest before the rush begins!"

She went on, "He says they really have to push to get everything ready as quickly as possible. They've had some money come in earlier than expected and they need to make the most of it. Sid wants me to start straight away, and he meant now. But I told him I couldn't, it would be unethical to drop my project at The Firm right now. I need time to tidy it up and prepare for whoever Percy gives it to."

"How did Sid take that?" Stan asked.

"Not well. He doesn't like being told 'No!', he's not used to it. But sometimes he needs to hear it."

Stan thought for a moment, 'There's a subtext here.'

"Anne, did he... well, try anything while you were at university, studying under him?"

Anne coloured. "No, Stan. Nothing happened, but he did have a reputation. I told him right from the start that I was there to learn, and he knew what I meant. So he never came on to me, but I could tell he wanted to. I became good friends with his wife Maggie, partly to make sure he didn't get any ideas. I just hope that now he's older, there'll be no temptation. If nothing else, I expect to be too tired, anyway!"

"Are you still attracted to him, Anne?" Stan asked after a moment. Anne drew in a deep breath. She turned to look Stan in the eye.

"Yes, I am! But not as much as then, Stan. Most importantly, I'm much more attracted to you, you old goat. Besides, I'll be working directly for him, it would be very awkward to carry on an affair at work. Besides, I couldn't do that to Maggie. She's one of my oldest friends, and I think far too much of her. So don't worry, Stan."

"Silly girl. I wasn't worried. I know you love me. We discussed this a long time ago, sweetheart. I'm not jealous. But be careful, and don't hurt anyone, that's all."

Anne took Stan's hand in hers, and stroked his face with her other one. "Nothing's going to happen, Stan, not with Sydney. He's a lovely man, and once I fancied him a lot, and had to hide behind myself, as it were, to stop anything happening. But those days are long gone. Our relationship is, and will remain, purely professional. Okay?"

"Okay, Anne," Stan said, and she leaned to him, kissing him deeply. Their kiss became more passionate, and she led him upstairs where they made love... slow, languid, tender love. Afterwards Stan slept while Anne trailed a finger through Stan's chest hair, murmuring to herself, "You still don't realise just how much I love you, Stanley Hinch. But you will, one day."

Then she fell asleep herself, one arm still draped over his chest, her head on his shoulder.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne, Denise and Stan all had diverse commitments for the New Year's celebrations. Well, Anne and Denise did, Stan just stayed home and watched some television, had a quiet drink and went to bed straight after midnight. He spent some of the night in quiet contemplation, toasting the beautiful blonde and the vivacious redhead who had, between them, stolen his heart. 

Caron, the raven-haired witch, laughed in his head, realising that he'd be home alone tonight. 'Two beautiful women and you stay at home with neither, Stan?' he felt her ask as he got himself into bed. 'It's the best way of showing no favouritism, my love,' he told her, just before sleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

Earlier in the week, Stan had been over visiting Denise, transferring some of his CD collection into his new MP3 player, when the phone rang. Denise was surprised and pleased to hear a voice she recognised from Ibiza.

"Hi, Denise? It's me, Janice!"

"Hi, Janice! Wow, this is a surprise!"

"Are you doing anything for New Year's, Denise?"

"Um, I dunno – hang on a minute."

She put her hand over the microphone and turned to Stan.

"Stan, did you have anything specific in mind for New Year? One of my friends from Ibiza has just asked."

"No, nothing planned, Denise. Go, enjoy yourself!"

- - - - - - - - - -

So, a few days later on New Year's Eve, she did.

She arrived at Janice's home to find that Devon and Sue were both there too, but Millie couldn't be there. "She's gone over to the States, she's got a cousin there. I think she'll stay if she can, Denise. She always felt she wanted to go there anyway. But never mind that. How're you?" Janice asked her as she took her coat. Denise could hear loud music coming from within, and was looking forward to having an evening where she could let her hair down again.




Equal Shares Ch. 42



"I'm fine. I've had some rocky patches since the summer, but now I'm in love and it's wonderful!" she replied to Janice.

Janice grinned at her. "That sounds like a story worth telling!"

"Yes, but first let me find Devon and Sue and get myself a drink!" laughed Denise.

She spent most of the evening with the three younger girls, catching up on their lives since the summer. 

Janice was a nurse, training as a paediatric specialist and finding it hard work but rewarding. "I've pulled a lot of late nights that became early mornings," she told Denise, "But it's always worth it when you see a kid smiling, and you think, 'I helped to do that!'" The energetic dark haired young woman smiled brightly.

Sue, the brown haired one from East London, was working behind a bar at a nightclub near her, and was going out with one of the regulars. "E's one of those who'd pull a different bird every night!" she told the others, "But now I've got 'im, an' 'e's been going steady wiv me for free munfs!"

Devon giggled. "Three months! That's just about a record for you, too, isn't it?" Her blonde hair, now cut short and spiky, framed her blue eyes that danced with merriment.

Sue looked down, mumbling something, and Devon lifted her chin up with one pointed finger.

"I said I wanna marry 'im, alright?" Sue told them, challengingly, and Devon and Janice laughed. Denise just gave her a hug.

"I wish I'd got a fella!" Devon said, "I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me. I'm only twenty three, not sixty three, you'd think I could get a guy to go out with me more than twice – and not break-up on the second date!"


"What seems to be the problem?" Denise asked. She decided not to say anything about Elizabeth and her new relationship!

"Oh, I go out with them a couple of times. Then, if I sleep with them, it seems they think I'm too easy, and they leave me, they don't want me. But if I say 'no', they look for easier pickings!"

All of the girls laughed with her. "You've just been unlucky, picking the wrong ones for each approach. Keep trying, it'll happen!" encouraged Janice, and Sue nodded.

"What about you, Denise?" asked Devon.

"Oh, that's a long story!" she replied. All three girls looked attentively at her, so Denise quickly told them all about how Jim had basically dumped her at the airport without even having the courage to tell her, of her short-lived romance with "that bastard Tom!", of her almost as short relationship with Elaine and Susan – which drew a knowing glance from Janice, who said "I thought so. I caught you looking at us sometimes, and the kisses when we were winding the guys up at the bars – Phew!"

Then she told of Stan and Anne, and how their relationship had developed.

"Oohh! Three in a bed, Denise?" said Sue, tapping the side of her nose. "Nudge, nudge! Wink, wink!" 

"No, nothing like that!" laughed Denise. "It's not wild debauched kinky sex, just a three person relationship that we're trying to make work." She looked at each of the three friends in turn, finally looking straight at Sue. "I wish I could marry them both, actually. I love Stan, deeply, and I have a great friendship with Anne."

Janice cocked an eyebrow at Denise, and said "Just a friendship?" 

When Denise nodded, Janice looked at her for a long moment, appeared to think better of saying something, then told her, "That's too bad!" She stood up and pulled Sue with her. "Let's dance!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne went to a party with Maggie and Sydney, where she met the other partner in the firm she'd be joining.

He was a silver haired gentleman who wore an old school tie and a blazer as if it were a uniform. Anne soon discovered that he was as sharp as a tack, though. His function was to take care of the finance and business side of things.

"Ken's been a really good friend of mine for years," Sid told her, "we were at school together!"

Kenneth McKuan was charming and pleasant, if very reserved. He seemed to be a typical example of old English public school, with contacts everywhere and an easy way of making you feel like you were his friend. Anne could easily understand how this deceptively smooth yet energetic man had come up with substantial investment so early.

"Mind you," he told her, "So far it's been easy. You wait until we want real money for a wafer run. As Sydney keeps telling me, the cost will be significant. It will come to something in the order of a million dollars, just for that. I just hope it works!"

"Oh, I'm sure it will, Ken," soothed Anne. He snorted and told her, "Better be as certain as you can get, my dear. That's going to be your job!"

Ken sipped his drink for a moment, then scratched his chin knowingly, and said, "The other problem we have is making sure we're first to market – if we're beaten to it, most of the profit goes away. Maybe all of it!"

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 43



The first day back to work at The Firm was Wednesday, the 3rd of January. Anne immediately went to see Percy and handed in her notice.

"I'm very sorry, but I really have to leave on the twelfth," she told her manager.

"But that's only just over a week away!" he exclaimed, obviously annoyed.

"My new firm, Boundless Waves, will pay compensation for the short notice. But I'm really very sorry, the date's non-negotiable, it's either then or no deal. In the meantime I'll get my project as tidy as I can make it, and brief who ever you set to take over," she told him.

Percy was not pleased.

"I'm inclined to fight you on this, Anne, but I expect that would be counter-productive to us all. I'll telephone your new employers about the compensation."

Slightly frostily he then instructed her, "Go on, Anne. Better get on with it."

The news spread through The Firm as quickly as such juicy gossip will. Stan, passing through Sales later that morning, overheard Ewan telling one of his coterie in a loud voice that was intended to be overheard, "I understand we'll be losing the Ice Queen. No big loss, I've been saying for ages we should get someone who'll concentrate on working, not screwing!" Stan's blood rose as he heard the sycophantic chuckles that followed.

As he passed in to reception he asked Elaine, "How the hell does that Ewan keep his job? He's got the manners of a pig – a chauvinistic one. I thought they'd been banished!"

"Mouthing off again, is he?" answered Elaine. "Trouble is, he's actually a good salesman. I get a lot of sales enquiries come in for him. He makes my skin crawl, but he's good at what he does."

"I don't suppose his daddy being who he is hurts, either!" growled Stan, sourly.

"No, but it's probably not what you think. He's got contacts, Stan. He uses them." Elaine gave Stan a careful look. "Don't create trouble for yourself, Stan. You won't change anything, anyway. Now, I hear Anne's leaving us, and soon?"

"Yes, she is," Stan told the short blonde. "She's going to work for a start-up firm. And I mean she's going to work, too."

"Oooh. Harder than she does now? That's difficult to imagine!"

"I know!" Stan told her. Elaine had to take a call, so Stan walked through and sat at his desk. Elizabeth was there, and had also heard the news, of course. They'd spoken of it as a possibility before, but now it was a definite. Anne had said that if it happened, it would mean long, long hours.

"I guess this means you'll be seeing more of Denise?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth leaned forward. "Be careful, Stan. Don't neglect Anne. She'll need your help if she's working that hard."

"I know, Elizabeth. So does Denise, and Anne of course. We want to help each other, not break apart."

"Well... Watch out. You're all going to be under a lot of strain, and tempers can fray. Also, people react to such things in different ways. Be alert for one trying to split you away from the other, Stan. I can see you don't believe it could happen, but human nature is human nature."

Stan began to protest, but his heart was overruled by his head. "I know Elizabeth, I know," he told her with a sigh. "I don't want to believe it could happen but I know it could. I guess I'll just have to try to recognise it and snuff it out if it happens."

Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment. Then she told him, quietly, "Or, you might be forced into making a decision, Stan. I hope it doesn't come to that. But what's holding this all together is you, and you'll have to look out for any antipathy between the two of them. All the time you're the sole anchor, your relationship will be vulnerable if one of your ladies falls out with the other."

Stan glumly nodded. He didn't want to have to think about it, but knew he would anyway.

Just then, however, Denise came to see him, smiling brightly, her hair cascading over her shoulders like a bronze waterfall, her tight white blouse emphasising her bust. All thought of conflict flew from Stan's mind as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before sweeping by on her way into the Production area. 'You're a very lucky man, Stan!' he told himself.

- - - - - - - - - -

While at home or going out at night, both Denise and Anne made a point of wearing the special jewellery given to them by Stan, but neither wore them at the office. As Anne said, "There are quite enough wagging tongues as it is without feeding them unnecessarily." Denise just snarled, "Oh, screw 'em!" - but in the end she'd agreed to go along with Anne.

Stan was with Anne a lot during her last week at The Firm, especially after she'd worked late, long beyond her normal work hours. Denise had made herself scarce on two of what should have been 'her' nights to allow Anne to have some more time with Stan. While this was good for Anne, by Wednesday evening she was both excited by the prospect of the new challenge and becoming worried about how it would affect their relationships.

On Thursday night the three had a quiet drink in the Mitre, then went to Stan's house. They loafed around just talking about things.

Denise said to Anne, "Look. We all know what's going to happen next week and for the foreseeable future. You'll be getting up and leaving before Stan and I wake, then you'll be working flat out before arriving home late and wanting nothing more than to go to bed... to sleep! So we'll have to make the most of what time you can spend with us."

"Yes," continued Stan, "so with that in mind, Denise and I have decided to ask you something."

Stan stopped. He looked at Denise, who looked excitedly back. 

"What!? What!?" Anne blurted, when Stan left that hook dangling, deliciously.

"How do you feel about sleeping at my place, Anne? I mean, all the time?" he asked. "You see, if you did that, and Denise did as well, one of us could get up with you every morning, and we could arrange it so one of us was always there to welcome you home as well. I know it's not perfect, but it would be better than getting up alone, coming home and going to bed alone, and seldom seeing either of us."

Denise added, "Yes, and Stan's got the room for it to work. Oh, please do it, Anne. You know you'd hate going to bed by yourself all the time, waking up alone and seldom seeing us."

"Hmm." Anne leant back in her seat. "It sounds like a good idea, but there are times when I just want my privacy. You know that, Denise. You do too, Stan. Come to that, there will be times when I'm tired and irritable and snappy and bitchy... You'll be glad I'm not with you all the time. So if it's going to work, I'll sometimes escape back to my own place, I think."

"That's fine, Anne," Stan told her, before Denise could speak. "We didn't want to crowd you or anything." He gave Denise the merest flicker of a warning, but it was enough to stop her trying to browbeat Anne – as if that could ever work!

"The other thing is, I can give you your own room, if you like," he went on. But Anne demurred.

"No, that's not going to work. Where will Denise stay? You can't go re-jigging your office as a bedroom, Stan, and you've only got the one spare room. No, we won't go dedicating a room for me, I think. I have a home, and the offer of a bed any time I want it with you – either alone in the spare or with you, my darling man. So I'll spend as much time as I can with you both, and I'll let you cuddle up to a sleeping zombie if that's what you want. Okay?"

"That's fine, Anne. As for you being a zombie, I think even like that you'll have more life in you than most people!"

Anne turned to Denise and pretended to gag, "Yech!"

Then she looked Stan directly in the eye. "I'll show you just exactly how much of a zombie I am, Stanley Hinch!" She stood and swayed over towards Stan, who drank in the sight of her.

Denise smiled and stood as well. "I think I'd better leave you two lovebirds to it! I'll see you tomorrow, Anne, Stan. Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

Anne called out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes never leaving Stan, "As if that is any restraint!" She heard a chuckle, then the living room door closed. By the time they heard the front door opening and Denise's cheery "Goodnight, both of you!", Anne was half undressed already and Stan was trying to catch up.

Stan was surprised by Anne's ferocity. She attacked him, kissing hungrily, almost tearing off his clothes. Stan was given no time to think, no time to really react, he was simply overwhelmed.

His body knew what Anne wanted though. Anne reached for his erection with one hand while thrusting him down onto the sofa with the other. She swung a leg over him and knelt astride, lowering herself onto him, merely pulling her panties aside. Stan was in his underwear, his prick standing proud through the fly, and entering Anne as she groaned her need before his mind had a chance to catch up.

The position was a little awkward but Anne made it work, her back arching and undulating as she drove herself, grinding herself, on Stan. Anne's teeth were clenched but she kept eye contact with him as she moved, her need, her lust evident to him. Finally Stan began to move, thrusting to meet her, one hand reaching for her belly while he began teasing a nipple with the other. He twisted, gripping tightly but all Anne said was a growled "Harder!" as she fucked herself down onto him. He did and saw her eyes narrow, but still she looked into his eyes, into his soul. Stan saw, in her, her desperate love for him tonight and was more than willing to sacrifice for her if that's what she wanted, needed.

But it was as well that Stan was no longer a teenager. He managed to keep himself from coming long enough for Anne to scream out her orgasm, her belly muscles rippling, eventually firing Stan over his own finishing line, spurting deeply up into her womb. Anne collapsed onto him and they both lay there, unwilling to move, Stan's arms around her, just catching their breath.

Finally, Anne gasped into his ear one word.

"Wow!"

"You. Can say. That again!" he grunted out.

When they'd recaptured their breath, Stan poured them drinks and Anne lay with her head on his lap. She raised her head to take a sip of her vodka and bitter lemon, then lay back again.

"Christ, I needed that, Stan. I'm not sure why, but I did. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Stan told her automatically. He paused, then went on, "Um, maybe more worried about your new job than you let on, perhaps?"

"Probably," the sexy blonde admitted. "I've been thinking a lot about it, that's for sure. You took my mind off it for a while, there!"

"Good!" he answered, running a hand over her flat belly. He poked a finger into her belly button, teasingly, and she giggled.

"That's another way to make me forget, but I prefer the first one!" she told him, "but for now, can you just cuddle me, Stan?"

"Sure," he drawled out lazily, still in a post-coital haze. He struggled to focus.

"You know, sometimes you almost frighten me, Anne," he told her. "That was amazing sex, but my God you simply took over. What happened?"

Anne turned and buried her head into his belly. Muffled, he heard a sob, and he stroked her hair, saying, "Shh! It's okay, Anne, it's okay," until she quieted a little and came up for air.

"I'm sorry, Stan. Most of the time I can keep myself under control. But that was a glimpse of me losing it! It's... it's the prospect of not being able to make love to you, of working flat-out and doing everything right and still, if I'm honest with myself I guess, I'm frightened silly, Stan. I think fear, compounded by what Denise said at just the wrong moment – or was it the right moment! – that triggered me off."

"I don't mind, but my goodness you simply marched up to me and took me. I don't think I've ever known you, or anyone else for that matter, to be so aggressive. I loved it, as a change, but I think I prefer it when I can keep up, when I can please you, be loving to you."

"Oh, you pleased me all right!" Anne declared, running a finger, barely touching, down his cheek. "Please me any more and I'd have fainted!"

She smiled, lovingly, at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"We can go to bed, later, and you can show me how to make love more gently, perhaps?" she asked, with a coquettish smile and a lift of an eyebrow.

Stan smiled and said, "I think I might be able to handle that, Anne."

- - - - - - - - - -

That Friday was the last day for Anne at The Firm. She had mixed feelings: some of the people there were really very good, both professionally and personally, while she wouldn't miss some of the others at all.

Anne was a bit surprised to realise just how much she'd miss seeing Elaine's cheery face in reception. She'd also come to appreciate Elizabeth, although until meeting Stan she'd never really met her. She even, grudgingly, admitted to herself that Percy served a purpose there.

Ewan, on the other hand, and his sycophantic crowd, she would easily do without. His snide remarks, always behind her back but not quite loud enough for her to hear word for word, drove her to distraction. Ewan wasn't the only one to comment on her "unusual lifestyle" with Stan and Denise, but he was the most vociferously opposed to the whole thing. Anne wondered about that, why was it that he was so against it?

"Elaine, I wonder why it is that Ewan has taken against me so much. It seems so personal to him."

"You really don't know? It's easy, he wanted you for himself. I see it in his eyes, and believe me his eyes follow you everywhere."

Anne looked glumly at the shorter girl.

"Hmmph! I suppose I had guessed, really. He's such a toad. I couldn't possibly have been with him anyway. Still, I'll be out of here soon."

"Ignore him and his crowd, Anne. We're going to miss you, you know," Elaine told her.

- - - - - - - - - -

As always, there was a collection and a card. Percy made the presentations in the canteen that afternoon, and Anne had to make a short speech.

"Thank you all for the collection. The card, signed, I see, by all of you, I will keep as a memory of some happy times spent here, and I can always use the Borders gift certificates! I wonder whom you asked! I know I've not been here as long as many of you," she said, "and I know too few of you well. But there are many people here I will miss, both in the design labs and elsewhere in the company.

"I can say, now, that there are also some people here who I will not miss. There are people who, for some misogynist reason, don't seem to think that a woman can do challenging technical work as well as a man. You all know who they are." She was now looking directly at Ewan. "They are a cancer in the heart of the company, one that needs to be cut out, because otherwise The Firm will be denying itself a full half of potential candidates. To everyone else, I say goodbye with sadness, and I hope that someday I'll see you again."

Anne collected her things together and strode, with great dignity, out of the canteen. On the way she walked right by Ewan, who opened his mouth as if to say something. Anne simply swept by, cutting him dead.

- - - - - - - - - -

As was traditional, Anne spent the evening of her last day at a bar, the Mitre, drinking with her former colleagues.

Stan and Denise were there, of course, as was Elizabeth, who remarked, "I'll only stop for the one drink, Anne, but I couldn't let you go without saying goodbye!" Anne responded, "I'll be back for the wedding!" earning herself a curious look from Elizabeth.

Others came and said their goodbyes: Percy popped in on his way home; Rick, Joseph and Phil from the design group came; as did Graham who drank a coke with Anne before going home to his family. Anne was surprised and touched by how many people came to see her off. There was soon a small but happy crowd of people at the Mitre. Anne enjoyed her evening, acting like as a hostess, visiting each of the small groups of people that inevitably collect together, aided by Stan and Denise who were veterans of this sort of thing.

Late that night, at Stan's house, Anne, Denise and Stan gathered together to honour Anne's departure from The Firm and the start of her new venture. Stan held his glass high and toasted, "Any excuse for a drink will do!", but there was a tinge of sadness as well... no longer would he be able to take a trip into the Lab and see his lover.

Denise saw in his expression just what Stan was thinking. She didn't think it was expedient to say anything just then, but she was honest with herself enough to know that secretly she'd be happy to see more of him.

Anne, meanwhile, was concerned with two things. 

One was, of course, her love for and relationship with Stan. Each of them was working hard to make sure the three-way relationship worked, even under the new conditions. But she couldn't help but worry.

The second thing was actually more and more at the front of her mind. This new business would be a significant risk – she might end up with only a failure, even if her own part was as good as she could make it. So much could go wrong that Anne couldn't, herself, affect. In order for the business to thrive, it all had to go perfectly.

Anne knew just how unlikely that was. If it wasn't a success, she'd have only a reduced salary for the time being and no 'extras' - so she'd have to be quick on her feet to get another job. Anne still had to keep a roof over her head, and all the other payments that come due with modern life. She was conservative by nature – was this a good risk?

'Only time will tell,' she told herself, 'it'll not be my fault if things don't go as we've planned!'

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 44



Anne woke up at a quarter past five in the morning. 'Oh, God I must be mad!' she thought, as she picked her way foggily through her early morning routine.

Downstairs she found Denise, wearing a bathrobe, with coffee ready to pour. 

"Good morning, Anne," she said quietly. "Stan's gone back to sleep. He'll wait up for you tonight. I'll sleep in the spare room, but I'll stay up as well – I want to hear how your first day went!"

Anne almost fell into a chair at the table. "Monday, the 15th of January, 2007. The day I fell apart." Elbows on the table, she held her head in her hands.

"A day that will live in infamy!" Denise giggled. Anne looked at her through her fingers like a child for a moment, then couldn't help but follow her by dissolving into laughter herself.

"I take myself too seriously, don't I?" she said, through the fits.

"Sometimes, Anne," Denise answered, then, more soberly, "But you are doing something that needs you to be serious sometimes, you know."

Anne ducked her head, acknowledging that point. "Actually, while I'm working on it I'll need to be serious all the time, Denise."

"That's all the more reason to blow off steam every once in a while, I guess!" came back the answer, but Anne stood and told her, "Not now, Denise. Now, I've got to get moving. I'll talk to you later."





Equal Shares Ch. 44



That Friday night Stan greeted Anne wearing his bathrobe. Anne was tired, but not too tired to make the obvious connection.

"How's Denise?" she asked as she hung up her coat.

"She's fine, sleeping by now I think." He smirked, and then cleared his expression. "Are you going to be working tomorrow?"

"Yes," Anne said with a deep sigh as she sat down. "I'm afraid so, and for a few Saturdays to come, as well."

"Okay. Getting home this sort of time again?"

"I can try to be earlier if –"

"No, that's not what I was trying to say. Tomorrow I'm taking Denise out, so I wanted to tell you that if we're not back by the time you get home, not to worry!"

"She deserves it. So do you. Thank you!"

"For what? We're only doing what we said we'd do. We're going to look after you, Anne."





Equal Shares Ch. 45



In the early evening of Valentine's day, Sid had hustled Anne out of the door of Boundless Waves. Stan had rung him to make arrangements earlier. Downstairs, in the vestibule of the building, she was surprised to find Denise and Stan waiting for her.

Stan, Anne and Denise all went in to Covent Garden, and had dinner at 'Trotters' cafe in Covent Garden. They didn't make a huge thing of it as Anne would have to be back in work the next morning, but a loving, relaxed meal was enjoyed by all three of them. The restaurant was, of course, very busy but the food was glorious and the wine chosen by the sommelier complemented the meal perfectly.

"I'm really sorry we couldn't celebrate properly," Anne said to Stan.

"Don't worry, Anne. I really enjoyed the meal, and it's just lovely for the three of us to be out together like this," Stan told her.

"Besides," Denise added, "any later than this and you'd be dead on your feet tomorrow."

"Oh, God, I'm going to be that anyway!" Anne told her.





Equal Shares Ch. 46



It was early in the next week when Anne's patience finally blew.

Ken poked his head out of his office and called to her, "Anne! Got a minute?"

Anne was jolted out from deep in concentration. She answered, "What is it, Ken?"

"Could you sort out my PC? I'm getting weird messages from it, and I have to go out."

Anne whirled her chair to face him, exploding, "Well Ken, I'm trying to design the product that you're betting a lot of money on! I haven't got time to nursemaid your PC right now – ask Sid!" 

She whirled the chair back to face her desk again, but not before she saw shock register on Ken's face. 'Good!' she thought with savage satisfaction, then gradually picked up the threads of her shattered concentration.

Sid came to see her later that evening, as she was cuddling a cup of coffee. She turned away from the display screen, refocusing her eyes on him.

"I understand you and Ken had words earlier," he said in a neutral tone.

"Yes, I did, though if you'd asked the same, you'd have copped it too! You hired me to design, not to fix computers. You really want someone else to do that job!"

"Yes, we do. Do you have anyone in mind? If not, I can call some people."

The connection suddenly flashed into Anne's brain.

"Which company are you going to use for the chip manufacture, Sid?" she asked. Sid blinked at the apparent non sequitur.

"Shucor. Why?"

'Perfect,' she thought.

"I thought so. Because I need to get some data from them, and I don't have the contacts to ask. But I know someone who has worked a lot with Shucor. I also know someone else who is stuck where she is and would find running the computer systems here for us a doddle. What's even better is that I know both of them are frustrated where they are and wouldn't say no to a change. Want me to mention it to them?"

"Not so fast, Anne. Write me up a proposal. It sounds like you want me to offer these two people jobs, and I'm not spending money that easily!"

"Oh, Sid. You'd like them. Actually, you've met one of them already... Stan!"

"Your Stan? Look, Anne, I know he's your man and all, but... Well. I'll tell you what. Put a proposal together for each, get their résumés in, and Ken and I will look them over. But no promises, okay?"

"Okay, Ken! You won't regret it, I promise."

"I mean it. No promises. I'm not sure we can afford one, let alone two new people." He smiled a little at her. "Do what I said and we'll check it out. We need to keep you happy and productive, after all."

"Yes, Ken, you do!" she told him through a wide grin.

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening, Anne found Stan deeply sceptical about the idea.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to drop out of what is, in truth, a comfortable and secure job and take such a risk as that, Anne. If it doesn't pan out I'd have to find another job afterwards, and at my age they're frankly as scarce as rocking horse shit!"

"Yes, but the rewards could be amazing, Stan. If you and Denise were to join as well we'd all be getting the bonuses if we get bought out, or go to market successfully. Having done one we'd all be set up for whatever we want to do next."

"But it's still such a huge risk, Anne. I've still got a mortgage on this place, and I imagine Denise has on hers. I can't speak for her, but certainly I'm not in a position to miss a couple of months' pay or more while looking around if things don't work out."

"Perhaps. But if it does work out you'd probably be able to pay off your mortgage altogether, Stan."

"That depends entirely on the offer that's made, Anne. Sid and the other partner, what's his name?" "Ken," Anne supplied. "Yes, Ken. They may only offer a simple wage. What then?"

"Then you don't take that offer, silly. It's called negotiation."

"Hmph. I'm terrible at that."

"Good job I'm not then, Stan. Look, never mind that – I thought things weren't quite as wonderful as all that back at The Firm?"

"Hmm. Well, there's a bit of an atmosphere of doom and gloom about the place, Anne, I suppose. But it all goes in cycles. I've been there when it was like this before, and it gets better again."

"You've told me it wasn't like the 'good old days' many times before though, Stan. Look, it doesn't have to be something you decide on now. Think about it for a bit – but don't take too long, I need some details out of Shucor soon!

"Okay, Anne, I will, I promise. Now, are you ready for bed, yet? I know I am!"

"Bed, yes. Sex, no. I'm just too tired, Stan. But I'd love a cuddle..."

"One specially ordered cuddle, coming right up!" Stan told her, and they hauled themselves up the stairs to his room.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning, Anne found that Denise was considerably more receptive to Anne's idea.

"They've taken on a new analyst-programmer. He's just out of university, still wet behind the ears, thinks he knows it all and he's being regarded as the thing that's going to improve the company. Hah! If they'd asked, I could have taken on what he's supposed to be doing and they could have got someone to fill in my job. Grr!"

"So..."

"So I think I'm interested, Anne. I need to check a few things out, but it might be time for me to move, since it's obvious that I'm not going to get anywhere while I'm at that place."

"Okay. Don't take too long though, please – I'm being driven out of my mind by the silly interruptions already!"

- - - - - - - - - -

As it happened, it didn't take Denise long to make her decision. 

Jon, her boss, called her into his office that morning.

"Denise, can you show Philip your documentation program, and how it works? I need to get him up to speed on our house style, and I think you're the best one to show him – and your project's probably the best way for him to learn."

Philip was the new analyst-programmer that she'd told Anne about. 'Oh, well, at least I get to show him how we do things around here,' she thought.

"Okay, Jon, no problem," she said, aloud.

That evening, however, as she sat with Stan drinking tea after they'd got home, she'd changed her mind.

"He's an insufferable little prick," she told him. "He knows it all, wants everything done his way: the way he's been told is right at university. Never mind the way we do things, or the advice I give him, he's right, end of story!"

"That bad, huh?" smiled Stan.

"Yes, that bad, Stanley Hinch. Just because he's got a university education he thinks that anyone who hasn't knows nothing. He's big-headed, pig-headed and thinks I can't teach him anything. So, of course, I can't, because he's not listening. I'm not sure I can take much more of him."

"Well, I heard something today that makes me wonder how long either of us will be there. There's a rumour of a takeover."

"Huh? I didn't hear anything?"

"No, but I overheard Bob talking to Harry in the Materials Control office. One of the big boys has noticed us at last, and we're vulnerable to a takeover at the moment – especially with the Managing Director being the age he is, and wanting to retire. I think things are going to change, Denise. If they are, I want to be in charge of the changes that affect me. Did Anne talk to you?"

"Yes, she did, and I know what you're thinking. You're going to see if you can join Boundless Waves, aren't you?"

"I think so. If they're interested enough to make it worthwhile – pension and all."

"I'm definitely interested, Stan. I've told her so."

"I guess we'd better bring our résumés up to date, hadn't we?" said Stan with a twinkle.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne was overjoyed that evening when Stan told her that both he and Denise would be interested in joining Boundless Waves.

"I'll tell Sid and Ken right away! This will be great, with all three of us working together again!"

Stan felt it was time to calm Anne down a little.

"You're getting ahead of yourself a bit, Anne. We haven't even handed over our résumés yet. Sid and Ken may decide they don't like the idea after all, or they like it but they've got other people in mind."

"Oh, you! Stop being so practical. I want to be excited – let me!"

Stan smiled at her, and asked, "If you're excited, does that give you more energy?"

"Hmm. It might very well, Stanley. Does that mean anything to you?" she asked him, arching her eyebrows at him. But Stan saw the glint in her eye.

"Yes, it does. It means I can take you upstairs and ravage you, you sexy young thing."

"Oh, you beast! Who will save me?" Anne cried, mopping her brow with one hand. Stan almost laughed aloud at her very bad playacting, but instead he stood, drew her to her feet and led her up the stairs.

"Of course, I don't have to ravish you if you don't want me to," he told her.

"Don't you dare stop now, buster!" she told him with a fierce grin and a wild look in her eye.

Stan had no intention of stopping at all.

Their lovemaking was tender, as Stan did his best to please his blonde lover. She had no complaints, as Denise was to tell her in the morning.

"Three times? I had to reach for my vibrator, you two turned me on so much!"

"Well, trip him up tonight once you both get home. He should have recovered by then," replied Anne, smirking.

"Hey, though. Don't forget your résumés. Sid's going to be expecting them once I tell him you're both interested, so email them today, okay? Tell Stan to get his finger out. You know him – he needs a shove every now and then, Denise – so provide him with one!"

That proved harder than either Anne or Denise had thought. Self-doubt was now creeping back into Stan, as at breakfast with Denise he wondered just what he could bring to a start-up company like Boundless Waves.

"It's just that I feel that I've spent twenty years working my way into a comfortable niche, and now I look round and find I've got nothing there that anyone else is going to want."

"Silly. You know how to analyse, you have good instincts, good contacts, a firm grasp of statistics – and that alone puts you ahead of almost everyone else – and you can communicate well. Well, you can when you're in the mood to, or when you're pushed into it."

"I haven't a clue how to write that into a résumé, though," he said a touch morosely.

"Well I do. I write a great résumé, if I do say so myself," Denise answered with a certain self-satisfaction. "Email yours over to me this morning and I'll tidy it, then we can get them up to scratch this afternoon. You've nothing really pressing on, have you?"

"No, nothing much, just routine stuff at the moment. Not even a meeting with Percy."

"Good, that's settled then."

Later that afternoon, Stan reflected that Denise really was good at writing résumés. Hell, it looked like he'd even want to employ himself.

He was looking over Denise's shoulder as she showed him what she'd done. He corrected a few details, suggested a couple of courses he'd been on that hadn't been added, and then bent down and kissed her.

Denise kissed back for a long moment, but then drew back. "We're still at work, Stan!" she scolded, laughing.

"I don't care, you deserved that. And it's only a sampler for when I get you home."

"We'll mail these off then, eh, Stan? Then we can get some work done, and then later on you can give me your full attention..."

Stan nodded, smiling. "A promise is a promise, Denise," he told her.

Honesty made her reply, "Oh, you never actually promised, Stan."

"I have now," he answered, with a smile.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne was at her workstation when she heard Ken's voice.

"Anne, can you spare a moment, please?"

She was deep in concentration so she yelled out, "Minute!" and tried to finish. She was startled when she felt a touch on her shoulder.

"Anne?"

She looked up and saw Ken's face above her. "Oh! Ken. Sorry, how can I help you?"

"Sid said something about you promising a write-up on some new positions you think we need filling? Only I have a couple of résumés in my inbox, and I wasn't actually expecting anything."

"Oh. Sorry, yes. I meant to work that up today, but I got sidetracked a bit by this... I'll get onto it now. Er, who are the résumés from? A Mister Hinch and Miss Bottomley?"

Ken laughed. "Yes, that's right, it's your friends." He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry, Sid's just being an old woman. I'm sorry we didn't think of the computer person before, and you're right, we'll need someone to handle the fabrication side of things."

He stood again, and said in a normal voice, "Soon as you can, please, Anne." He left, with a wink.

Anne looked at the bit of digital design she'd been working on, quietly said, "To hell with it," and closed it down. Then she mentally rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

It wasn't too long afterwards when she was peering into Ken's office. The door was open, but he was staring deeply into whatever was on his computer screen.

"Ken?" she called, and he looked up at her over his half-moon glasses.

"Hi! Touché!" Ken smiled at her and went on, "Is that the proposal?"

"For the jobs, nothing else, Ken!" she answered, and got a laugh out of him. "That's okay, Anne. I thought you realised my interests lay elsewhere."

Anne's eyebrows went up a touch. "Actually, I didn't. To be honest, I don't know much about you."

"Not much to tell, really. Fine example of an English public schoolboy, or I was until I got expelled. But I know a lot of people, and I know a lot about most of them. Like I know that you and these two," holding up Stan and Denise's Résumés, "are in a three-way relationship, for example."

Anne felt herself go numb. "How...?"

"I told you, I know a lot of people. One of them is your former MD. It's not a secret back at The Firm, you know."

The best that even Anne could come up with was a quiet, "Oh."

"Yes, 'Oh.' Come on, sit down."

Once Anne was seated properly on his visitor's chair – comfortable, but low - Ken went on, "It doesn't matter to me what you do in your private life. In fact, I still don't know what you do. Just that you, Stan and this Denise are all involved together. Provided you three don't let it become an issue here, I don't see a problem."

"You mean... but I've only just given you the proposal."

"Yes. But I didn't really need it, as I told you earlier. It's for Sid's benefit really. And if I say we can afford it – and we can, by the way, what's more we have to – then he'll go for it. But at some point it might be a good idea to tell him about your little ménage à trois."

"To tell the truth, I thought he already knew."

"He may, but hasn't told me. Well, discreet of him." He stretched back against the chair. Relaxing once more, he said, "Look, there's little point in staying here any longer tonight. Go home and tell your partners that they'll need to come in and interview, but it'll be an easy interview. Just don't expect too much in the way of money straight away, okay?"

He stood, and so did Anne. Before she left his office, she turned and asked, "Why are you making this so easy?"

Very seriously, he answered her. "Because I like you, but I also like to know things about people I work with. I'm not a pushover, Anne, never get that wrong. You were right about needing those positions filled. You've got people interested and ready to go straight into them. But I like to be in control."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "Good night, Anne."

Anne stared at him for a moment, nodded and then turned on her heel and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

"So what do you think?" she asked Denise and Stan that evening. She'd got home a little earlier than usual, but too late to find Denise still up. Although Denise had gone to bed about a half an hour earlier, Anne insisted on waking her and talking that very night.

She'd explained what she and Ken had spoken of, and relayed as best she could the conversation in his office.

"Wow," Denise said, "sounds like a bit of a control freak."

"Perhaps. But I think he's mainly just someone who likes to have an edge on people. He's very well connected."

"You don't think that was a bit, well, sinister?" asked Stan.

"A bit, maybe. But he was probably just trying to get a rise out of me. Look, the important thing is that he all but said you'd both get jobs there. This way, we can all be together all the time, yes?"

Stan said nothing, but Denise noticed and leapt in with, "Don't you get cold feet on me, Stan. I don't want to stay at The Firm any longer. We're being offered a great opportunity. I say we take it and 'To hell with them all!'."

Stan was silently communicating. He sought guidance from the same place he always did, and wasn't disappointed. Finally, he said, "Okay. I have misgivings. But I don't think staying at The Firm is a good bet for much longer. Besides, I'm going horribly stale there, and I know it. So, let's do it!"

- - - - - - - - - -

The following Monday, March the 19th, Stan and Denise travelled up with Anne. Their interviews were set for later that morning, so they simply went for a walk, intending to find a café. Anne had told them of one just around the corner near the Tube station. They found it and went in, grabbing a cup of coffee and a Danish pastry each.

Stan was actually quite nervous, but if Denise was, she was hiding it well. He knew that he wasn't the best self-salesman around, and worried that he'd not give a good impression. In any case, he thought it would probably be impossible to come up to the standard that Anne had painted of him. He sighed.

Denise caught it. She reached over and rubbed his hand. "I don't know what you're fretting over, Stan. Anne said this would be a cinch."

"When it's too good to be true, that usually means it is, Denise. I think the slightly sinister sounding Mr. McKuan is actually a good thing – otherwise it would be too perfect."

"Well, be assured that it's not too perfect then, go in, answer the questions, make sure you get in a couple of your own, and you'll be in. Ah, hell, just relax and be yourself, Stan. You'll do fine."

Stan's interview was before Denise's. He made his way up and into the office to be greeted there by the receptionist, who he knew was named Valerie. He'd already spoken with her on the phone, of course. He introduced himself, and in no time at all Sid was there, saying hello, drawing him into the office where he met the possibly sinister Ken McKuan for the first time.

An hour later he was being shown out, having done passably well, he thought. A small voice in the back of his head was telling him that that meant he'd actually done well. When he got outside into the cool air of that morning Denise pounced on him.


"Well? How'd it go? What are they like? Come on, give me news!"

"Give me coffee and I'll try to answer you." Denise's interview would be in half an hour – scarce time for Denise to drink and scurry back from the café they'd been at previously, so they opted for takeaway coffee at the station. Denise made a face, but Stan blew on his and sipped, cautiously anyway. He collected his thoughts.

"It went... okay, I guess. I think that probably means it went well enough. They're all right, actually. Sid – Dr. Thoroughgood – is a nice guy, very sharp, not completely convinced I think but playing along. Ken, Mr. McKuan, is an old-fashioned public schoolboy type. Well mannered, smooth, but watch him. They were pretty easy going once I told them of the contacts and processes I knew at Shucor. My guess is that you'll have an even easier time getting the job there – but that to begin with you'll be working harder than the rest of us, getting everything computer-ish running smoothly."




Equal Shares Ch. 46



"That jibes with what Anne said."

"Um-hmmm. The pay offer's nothing wonderful, but if they do get to an IPO, or bought out for a decent amount before it, the bonuses will be substantial. Of course, nothing like Sid or Ken's or even Anne's, but still – we'll be in a good position to go look for somewhere else at our leisure."

- - - - - - - - - -

That was still the conclusion as the three of them sipped celebratory glasses of wine back at Stan's house that evening. Both Denise and Stan had been made offers, and both assured Anne that they'd be accepting. It was now just a matter of handing in their notices to The Firm.

"Stan, could you do me a big favour though and see if you can get some process information out of Shucor? I need it before long – actually, I need it now, really, to continue the project."

"I'll see what I can do, Anne," Stan told her through a wide grin. "Should I bill Boundless Waves for my time?"

"I don't think you can do that yet, Stan," she told him, smiling also.

"I hope you'll be making your own backups, Anne. From what I can see, neither Mr. McKuan nor even Dr. Thoroughgood realise just how meticulous you have to be."

"Oh, I think Sid does. He just doesn't have time. Make no mistake, people, this isn't a charity thing. You'll both be working your socks off."

"Well, that's okay. Here's to working our socks off – but being together."

They chinked glasses together, all three smiling.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning, Stan told Bob of his intention to leave. "I know I'm required to give a month's notice, but if it's at all possible I'd like to quit a little earlier, Bob," he told his boss.

"I'll see what can be done, but I make no promises, Stan," came the reply.

Later that morning, Denise reported the same result when she saw Stan. "I don't think they're willing to just let us go, and I can understand that," she told him, "but I really would like to go as early as possible, now I've made up my mind."

"True, in both cases," Stan answered rather ruefully.

He thought for a minute, and then said, "You know, we might be certifiable. We're trying to get The Firm to give us an early exit from our comfortable, safe jobs so we can go slog our guts out working all the hours God sends in a job with no security at all."

"Yes, but focus on the rewards, Stan. No, my mistake. Focus on being with me, and Anne, all day. You'll be able to see us both, every day, without having to make excuses about PC problems or needing to check on a design question. That should be reward enough!"

"Oh, God. I'll just have to make sure I get the best bonus I can out of Sid and Ken..."

Denise hit him, giggling.

- - - - - - - - - -



Equal Shares Ch. 47



Eventually, Stan and Denise were both informed that they would be able to leave The Firm at the end of the first week in April. Their final weeks flew by in a rush as they tasked themselves to tidy up their projects and hand them over to others. Stan thought it significant that no thought was given to hiring replacements.

As the time for their departure grew closer, Stan and Denise gave thought to saying goodbye to people. Denise wasn't looking forward to saying it to Elaine, and Stan had no idea at all how to approach the subject with Elizabeth.

Anne, meantime, had now completed most of the hardware design for the project, and was beginning on the embedded firmware that would turn it from an interesting concept into a product. She still had more work than she could easily deal with, but now at least some of it could be done at home. This allowed her, with Sid and Ken's approval, to reduce her commute from six days a week to four, with the other two days spent at home. Anne being Anne, of course, she simply ploughed the recovered hours back into her work. Privately, Stan thought that her bosses – soon to be his bosses – had anticipated that, which contributed to their agreement.

His thoughts were increasingly along the lines of 'What have I done?' He was beset by doubt over his decision to quit The Firm. One night, lying next to Anne in the darkness, he was feeling so unsure that he was tempted to ask if he could rescind his resignation. It was largely the sense of shame that he would feel as a result that deterred him from doing that, along with a good dose of in--the--morning realism.

It was Elizabeth he talked to about it that morning.

"It's just nerves, Stan. You've always been resistant to change, and this is a big one. Mind you, I thought you'd become more amenable to change, given what's happened in the last year."

Stan couldn't help but smile as he mused. "Yes, I suppose I should be… but this seems… different."

"You made the right decision, Stan. We've both said that this isn't the nice, small, friendly firm we used to enjoy working at. Leave now, with a good chance of success in your new job. Don't hang around, hoping for things to get better."

Elizabeth looked far away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to Stan.

"I told Bob this morning, now I'll tell you. I'm going to retire at the end of May."

"That's wonderful, Elizabeth!" Stan blurted, but then he let the implications of the news settle in. "That is wonderful, Elizabeth. But I feel sorry for Bob, he must wonder what he's done."

"Actually, he was very gracious about it. I think he's looking forward to breaking in a younger assistant. Probably one with better legs!"

Elaine would be staying. As she told Denise, "I still enjoy working here, and it's handy for home, and Susan. Jobs with those advantages don't grow on trees, so I'll stay."





Equal Shares Ch. 47



"Anne –"

"Don't say anything, Denise. While I've been here, and at home, and even at work, thinking about this step, I've started to realize something. Stan loves us both. You love us both, he and I. The hold out is me. I've been saying I love Stan, but I've never said it to you, not really. So now, I'm going to say it, and mean it. Denise, I love you. I never thought I'd ever say that to any woman other than my mother, but it's true, and I can't deny it."

Denise was frankly astonished. "But you're straight. You don't come onto me at all, like you want me!"

"I'm not sure I do want to have sex with you, to be blunt. But that doesn't stop me loving you, Denise. It just changes the way I express it."

Denise was now completely confused. She understood the words, but her attraction to Anne had never gone away. She was now seriously in lust for the beautiful, blonde woman who was now looking at her with a severe case of rabbit--in--the--headlights. Denise fought to control herself. Susan had said, "use a light line and a lot of finesse," and a wrong move would make Anne bolt.

Shaking a little, Denise said, "Yes, Anne, to get us a place to be together, as an expression of our commitment, our love for one another, I'll help you to sell the idea to Stan."

Anne was, herself, confused. Once again her emotions were out of control, and her intellect wasn't able to direct her. She told herself to ignore her head, and go with her heart, again.

Anne hesitated. This was the moment, she thought. She had just begun to move towards Denise when she caught a movement in the corner of her eye.

From the doorway she heard, "Sell what to me?" 





Equal Shares Ch. 48



Stan watched as the two women started away from each other. Anne looked guilty, Denise surprised. "Okay, what are you two hatching?" he asked.

Anne recovered first. She looked back to Denise and then returned her gaze back to Stan.

"We were talking about love, and commitment. We -- well, I, was checking up about property, nearer to the office."

"Thinking of moving, Anne?" he asked, then, as the implication hit him, he added, "Moving away from us, Anne?"

Anne threw her hands palms upward, looking heavenwards in evident disgust. "Why do these two think I would do that?" she asked. Evidently displeased, she returned her gaze to Stan, only this time it wasn't calm. Anne was angry.

"No I damn well wasn't looking to move away from you!" she cried, but then innate honesty compelled her to add, "Well. Actually, I did start off looking for a place I could buy myself, but I quashed that idea quickly."

Anne looked from her lover to her co-lover and back. "Look, it makes sense this way. You'll soon find out that spending hours travelling to and from work is not fun, especially when you add it to the workload you'll be under. If we can get a place inside the M25 we'll greatly reduce that. It'll also have another effect, it'll bind us together. It'll be a show of commitment to each other, almost like a marriage."

"I think it's a great idea, Stan," added Denise. "Come and look at what Anne's been looking at."

Stan duly went and looked. His expression was wooden, his body language closed. "It's a nice house. When, exactly, were you going to tell me about this decision?"

His voice was cold. Denise looked anxiously at Anne. This had begun badly.

Anne stood her ground. "Stan, we hadn't actually done anything yet. We're looking --"

"Huh! Just looking! It sounded like you'd decided, to me when I walked in!"

Anne bit a bitter retort back behind her teeth. She had indeed made a decision, but Stan had intruded…

Stan misinterpreted her hesitation and ploughed on, though.

"Well I don't know that I want to move. I'm comfortable in my own home, the home I built together with my wife -- you remember her?"

"Oh, that's so unfair Stan! Of course I remember your wife!"

Denise decided it was time she took a hand.

"Stan, love, please calm down and think for a minute? Please?"

"Calm down!?"

"Yes, Stan, we all need to take a breather here," Denise told him. She rounded on Anne and told her "You too, Anne! We need a time out before someone says or does something we'll all regret!"

Denise drew a deep breath. "Look Stan, my love, calm down and think about things for a moment. It's all very simple. We all want to be together, don't we? Aren't there mornings when you wake up and wish we were all here with you?"

She then looked at Anne. "You, on the other hand, think too quickly, and don't consider other people enough. This was typical Anne 'take charge', wasn't it, really?" Her tone softened. "But then, I agreed with you. I still agree with you."

Facing Stan again, who glowered back at her, Denise went on, "We, Anne and I, felt that buying a house together would represent a commitment -- one from each to the others, that we'll be in this relationship for the long haul. That's what we were talking about when you came in. Stan, don't you see that we can buy a really nice house together, that we can all live together -- and that way we can demonstrate our love and commitment to each other in a really concrete way?"

Stan felt Denise's words like cooling rain on the fiery temper he'd been in. The two ladies watched anxiously as his expression slowly cleared.

"All right. I concede that it would be a good idea, in theory. I'll think about it, all right?"





Equal Shares Ch. 48



"All right. Any other limits, or desires?"

"No scat or water-sports. I just want you to be in charge of me, sir. I'll do as I'm told, I promise. Otherwise you'll have to punish me."

"I thought you didn't want pain?"

"I don't, but a spanking if I'm disobedient won't make me use my safeword. I think." Stan saw Anne blush, she looked down and hesitated. "I have as much experience in this as you do, sir. If I may make a small suggestion, we ought to take it slowly."

"I think that's an excellent suggestion. You can start, then, by making me a cup of tea."

Anne looked up at Stan again for a moment, then answered, "Yes, sir," and rose to walk into the kitchen.

This gave Stan time to think. What should he do, and how far should he, could he, take this?

A few minutes later, Anne returned with the tea. She found Stan sitting in his recliner, a long black strap in his hand.

"Recognise this?" he asked her.

"Retaining strap off some component trays," she told him.

"Correct. Velcro, quick-release, cushioned and static-conductive, though that last is of little importance here. I liberated some from The Firm before we left; I thought they'd come in useful. Now, they will. Come; sit with your back to me, hands behind you."

Anne complied, and he used the strap to fasten her wrists together. He used a scrunchy to pull Anne's hair into a ponytail.

"Stand up!"

Anne stood, gracefully, and he lifted the back of her short dress. No panties. He goosed her, and she involuntarily moved away. "Ah-ah-ahh!" he told her, and pulled her back lightly by the hair.

"Now, I'm going to take my pleasure with you. You'll do as I tell you, and make sure that I enjoy it. For now, sit at my feet while I drink my tea."

Anne sat by his feet for several minutes, during which time he completely ignored her. Finishing his tea, he stood and said, "Come."

Stan walked up the stairs to his room. On the way, he stopped off in the bathroom and picked up a washcloth, dampening it in the sink. He led Anne into his bedroom, where he stood her next to his bed. Removing the strap, he told her, "Strip." Anne complied, unsuccessfully hiding a slight smile.

"You're a good cocksucker, something you'll have a chance to show in a moment. Your cunt's not bad, I suppose, too. But today I'm going up your ass. Have anything to say?"

Anne's smile disappeared, but she shook her head. "No, sir. Um, I'm not sure I'm clean."

"Then you'll have to wash me off afterwards. Think about that next time!"

"Yes, sir."

Stan sat on the edge of the bed, and simply said, "Suck."

Anne complied. She enjoyed doing this with Stan anyway, he knew. He wasn't sure she'd enjoy the next part quite so much, but that was the point, wasn't it? Anne was giving herself for his pleasure, and would, he hoped, be deriving pleasure from that, if not from the actual acts involved.

Stan felt his climax getting near, and didn't want to go too soon, so he commanded her to stop. He stood.

"Remove my clothes, and get me ready to use your ass for my pleasure," he ordered.

She stood gracefully and removed his clothes, eyes lowered. She looked up at him occasionally through her lashes. It was intended to be seductive, and it worked on Stan very well indeed. As she undressed him she missed no opportunity to touch and caress him, though Stan was careful not to let her take him too far. Nonetheless, by the time he was naked, Anne had worked them both into a state of throbbing, dripping readiness for more.

Stan pushed her, fairly roughly, over to the bed and used two of the Velcro straps interlocked to tie her wrists to the head of he bed, face down. "Kneel, legs wide apart, ass up in the air!" he told her.

Stan got on the bed and knee walked behind her. He reached over to his bedside drawer and got out the lube he'd used with Denise, months before. Stan had really enjoyed taking her ass, and both had enjoyed it again a couple of times since.

Stan spread her cheeks with one hand and squeezed some lube onto the dark wrinkled roundel of her anus. He massaged it around a little, then inserted a finger. "Has anyone been here before, Anne?" he asked, in a rough tone."

"Only a finger, sir. Nothing more," she replied, a nervous tinge to her voice.

"My cock's a bit bigger than a finger, girl." Not that much bigger, he noted, ruefully. That was probably a good thing, now. He continued to work his lubed finger in Anne's tight puckered hole, and as she relaxed a little he added a second finger, with more lube on it.

Stan withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the washcloth. Squeezing more lube onto his hand, he greased his cock liberally, getting himself ready to enter her, to take her last virginity. The thought made him even stiffer.

With one hand on her hip, he used the other to place the tip of his erection at the entrance, and pushed slightly. Anne flinched a little and involuntarily squeezed to prevent him. "Relax, Anne," he said, soothingly, and after a moment or two felt her do so.

Stan had taken his 'lessons' with Denise to heart, and went very slowly, taking well over a minute to insert just the head of his erection into Anne's tight, hot ass. He just kept up a slow but steady pressure, letting Anne's body get used to the invader gradually.

Finally, he could wait no longer. "Are you ready for me, Anne, ready to be my anal-slave? Or do you want to say something else?"

Anne's breath was coming in short pants, but she just said, "Go on, sir. Take my ass."

Stan increased the pressure and felt his prick slowly slide deeper and deeper into Anne's rectum, past the inner ring and deeper into her body. It was exquisite, hot and tight and he knew he wouldn't be lasting long. Eventually he felt his groin pressed tightly against the round buttocks of his lover/slave, and halted there.

"Is it all in?" Anne asked him, voice tight.

"Yes, my love, you have all of me. Are you ready?"

Anne paused and then, getting back into character, said, "Could you give your slave a moment, please, sir?"

'NO!' Stan's body screamed, he desperately wanted to just start sawing in and out of her, to achieve his release, but he held back.

He felt Anne's body spasming against him as she fought to get used to the feeling of him deep inside where no one had been before. Denise had told him that it was a feeling that she couldn't describe, but that her body simply had to take time to get used to. Finally, Anne grunted, "Okay sir. Slowly, though, please!"

Stan began to move, slowly at first as his slave had requested, but then he began to pick up the pace. In truth he couldn't really control himself. Soon he was forcing himself into Anne, then pulling out, long, hard strokes that had him rapidly building to the climax he'd denied himself earlier. He pulled almost all of the way out of Anne's body, then slammed himself deep into her as he grunted with the force of his ejaculation.

Controlling himself once more, he withdrew gradually from Anne, kissing the back of her neck, running butterfly kisses along her spine. "Are you okay, love?" he asked, tenderly.

"Oh, God, that hurts! Er, I mean, yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Stan reached up and undid Anne's restraints.

"Slave, you've been wonderful. But I want Anne back, now, if you don't mind." Anne rolled to her side, facing him, her eyes bright with tears, and he kissed her. She nodded, and he undid her collar. "My love, I don't want you to be my slave now, I want you to be my loving partner. I'll clean you up and pamper you."

So pamper her he did, taking her to the bathroom and washing himself and Anne and then, running her a bath. He poured in some of the scented bath oil that Anne had left in his bathroom. He helped her to get in, and when she was nice and relaxed, washed her hair. He rinsed her off and told her to relax, that he'd be back in a few minutes.

He reappeared some time later with a bottle of white wine and two glasses on a tray. Then he gently attended to her needs, with lips and tongue and teeth and fingers, until Anne too shuddered, cried and came.





Equal Shares Ch. 49



On the way home from Boundless Waves on Friday evening, Anne was sitting next to Denise on the train. They were alone in that part of the carriage. She turned to Denise and thanked her, saying, "You made a big difference to the outcome, first by setting up and running the computers, then by making sure I wasn't disturbed by 'support calls' from Ken and Sid. You stayed late with me those nights when we were running those tests – which worked, thank God! – and finally, perhaps most importantly, Denise, you always give me much-needed moral support. Thank you very much for your help with all of that."

Denise waved a hand, and just smiled. Anne realized how much she enjoyed seeing that smile, something that Denise had been too tired for recently. Come to that, Anne had been too tired to do much more than just exist for several weeks, now. 

Anne knew that she couldn't have kept going much longer. It was only because the last couple of weeks had been fairly simple test-and-record sessions that she'd managed. Now, maybe, they would be able to able to relax... some. Oh, there'd be more work, she knew. That wouldn't stop. Soon, she'd have to think about a successor product. But for now she could go back to working sensible hours.

"How about you, Denise?" she asked. Denise looked at her, unable to fathom her meaning. "I mean, will you be able to cut back to normal hours, now?"

"Oh, I wondered what you were thinking about. I expect so, but there'll always be the last minute calls, and the teleconferences. I'm surprised Ken didn't ask me to stay behind tonight, actually, in case something went wrong."

"I think Sid took one look at the two of us and sent us home. If I look as bad as you, we're a pair of extras from a Michael Jackson video."

They sat on the train in silence for a while longer.

"I think, when I get in, I'm gonna have a drink and then nap for a little while," Denise said into the comfortable 'tadat-tadat' of the train running over the tracks. "How about you?"

"That sounds heavenly," Anne replied, sleepily. She closed her eyes and laid her head on Denise's shoulder for a moment. The next thing she knew she was being shaken awake.

"We're here," Denise told her, indicating their station. Her eyes were bright and she was smiling at her friend.

Anne woke up enough to drive them both home, well, to Stan's house. She realised that she was thinking of his home as her home, more and more.

As Anne turned off the engine Denise leapt out of the car and raced for the front door. "I'm bursting for the loo!" she told a laughing Anne. "I'll pour us out a drink in a minute. Go and find something for us to listen to, please?"

Anne browsed through Stan's collection, now augmented by discs that she and Denise had brought over. Coming across an old one, she reflected for a moment, then stuck it on.

Denise entered the room to hear a lovely, youthful voice singing:





Equal Shares Ch. 49



Aware of the time, he quietly opened his door and crept in, silently getting ready, and crept into bed with the least amount of noise and disturbance. He was asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan woke up from the throes of an erotic dream. He had a hard, throbbing erection, and ruefully admitted to himself that that wasn't unusual, but what was, was that no one was there to take care of him this morning. He supposed his two partners had gone to their own homes last night. He glanced at the clock. It was just after ten in the morning.

Then he heard the noise, again. It sounded like Denise, in passion. He frowned; surely if she had found someone she'd have told him and Anne before letting anything develop? And surely, she'd be at her own house, not his?

Then her heard another voice, an unmistakeable one.

"Denny!" it cried.

Anne's voice.

"What the hell?" he said, aloud.

Stan got up, put a robe on and crept out of his room to the door into the spare. He listened at the door, and could hear noises, and soft voices from within, but couldn't quite make out what the noises were, or what was being said, if indeed it was words.

He opened the door a crack and looked in. The bed was sideways to the door, so he had a fair view. He saw Denise on top of another figure, her red hair between the other's thighs. At the other end he could make out blonde hair, but couldn't see the face.

But he knew. Anne and Denise.

He shut the door, quietly, and crept back to his room. The impact of what he'd just seen was hitting him.

He sat on the bed for a moment and then lay down, still in his robe. He'd never suspected this.

Stan was still tired, his thoughts were slow, foggy, unfocussed. Also fearful. 'How long has this been happening?' he wondered. 'That looked wonderful, but what happens to us all now?'

Stan lay back, his emotions churning, desperately tired yet, he was sure, unable to sleep. He kept seeing the same image, of Denise on top of Anne, red hair obscuring his view, but in his mind's eye he knew exactly what was happening. 'Now they've got each other, they won't want me, I'll bet,' he thought, muddily. 'Denise has found a woman, and it's Anne. She'll be better for her, I think. They'll be able to afford that house between them, and I can stay here. I'll be okay.'

But the tears he felt starting told the lie to that. Angry at himself he wiped his eyes on the sheet, shrugged off his robe and got into bed to try for some more sleep. Not that he was expecting anything...

Stan was dreaming. He saw Caron's eyes, felt her lips, her hands. He responded, loving his wife, his angel. She was telling him he had no need to fear, it was irrational. He felt a body in front of him, a pair of lips on his, and another body snuggled up, spooning with him, nuzzling his neck. He responded to the kiss in his dream, and felt hands, lots of hands, roaming over his body, bringing him to arousal. Then he realised he wasn't dreaming.

He opened one eye, to find Anne's beautiful face, framed by her blonde hair, now with darker roots showing.

"Hi, sleepyhead," she said.

"Anne?" he said, still fogged.

"Of course it's me, silly. Who'd you think it was, the Queen of Sheba?"

Stan noted the asperity in her voice, but he heard and recognised the giggle from behind him.

"He calls you his Princess. I've never heard him call you a Queen before, though."

So it was Denise behind him.

'Wait a minute...'

He twisted and sat up. He looked down at each of the wonderful women in bed with him.

"I saw you..." he said, not knowing how to continue.

"Oh! Dammit, we were going to surprise you," Denise said.

"I think we must have done that!" Anne told her, chuckling.

"You should have just come in and joined us, Stan."

"Obviously, Anne, but I didn't think of that. You threw me." 

Stan ran a hand over his face, trying to throw off the cobwebs of fatigue. He yawned mightily, then refocused on Anne.

"I, er, I thought you weren't interested in girls?"

"I wasn't. I'm still not sure about 'girls', but I love Denny."

"I love her, too, Stan. Very much."

"Just as much as we love you, Stan," Anne went on, seeing his face.

"Oh, God, you didn't think we'd abandon you, did you Stan?"

Denise poked him in the side. "You did, didn't you, you ninny. Not a hope. We love you just as much today as we did the day before, and the day before that. More, probably."

"It's just that we've acknowledged – well, I've acknowledged – that we can share our love for each other physically as well. I never thought it would happen, but it has."

"And I'm glad!" Denise said gaily.

"It makes us all equal, Stan. Instead of a Vee, our relationship becomes a true triangle. All equally shared," Anne said, eyes bright.

"It just needs one thing, Stan," Denise added.

"Hmm?" Stan said, almost dizzy at being double-teamed in this way.

"Consummation!" they both answered, laughing.

Anne leaned over and kissed him. The kiss went on, and deepened, and Stan responded. He felt Denise move, then felt her lips around his stiff cock. He decided he'd gone to heaven as Anne continued to kiss him, caressing his face, chest and shoulders while Denise gave him one of her expert blowjobs.

After a minute or two of this Denise stopped fellating him. Anne left off her kiss in order to watch as Denise swung over Stan's body and, taking his erection in one hand, gradually lowered herself, stopping for a moment to swipe the tip along her very wet and ready furrow before plunging down, impaling herself.

Anne watched as Denise began undulating her body, rubbing her clit against Stan's body as she moved. Stan joined in the rhythm moving with her, while Anne lay against his side, one hand moving over his chest.

"God, that looks incredible. She's beautiful like that, Stan, isn't she? I love watching her with you like this, it's an incredible turn-on."

"Oh. God. Do you. Do. This too, Anne?" Denise asked in staccato breaths as she moved with Stan.

"Mmm, yes she does, and it's wonderful to watch her as well," Stan managed. He noticed that Anne's hand was no longer rubbing his chest, but instead she was playing with herself, one moistened finger busily rubbing below while the other hand was playing with her breasts, stroking the slopes and pulling the nipples.

After a few minutes of this Anne could no longer contain herself. "Oh, Stan. Lick me!" she cried.

Anne swung her body over his and lowered her cunt, wet and fragrant onto his face. Stan tasted her. He loved to do this, but found that coordinating his thrusts into Denise with licking and sucking on Anne was difficult, requiring concentration he didn't have.

Denise was making happy sounds, as she was getting close by her own efforts, so Stan put his attention to Anne's wonderful pussy, poised over his mouth, grinding sometimes against his chin. He felt both of his lovers shift their balance, and noted a change in the noises coming from above him, but it took a moment or two for him to realise that Denise and Anne were kissing.

All this stimulation was too much for Denise, who shuddered on his cock, crying out, the sound muffled by Anne's mouth, and her thighs around Stan's ears. She lifted off him and lay next to Stan. Anne lifted off Stan's mouth and inserted Stan's erection into herself, duplicating much of Denise's movements.

Now it was Denise's turn to whisper into Stan's ear. "She's beautiful, isn't she, Stan. She tastes as good as she looks, as well." She nuzzled into his ear, and whispered some more, "Go on Stan, come in her. Push that rod as far as it'll go into her twat and squirt, Stan. She's begging you for it, look at her. She's so hot, look at the way her whole face and neck and the top of her breasts are so pink. She's going to come any second, Stan, go on, go for it. I want to lick your spunk out of her messy snatch and bring her off again while you watch, I bet that'll get you ready for action again, won't it, Stan?"

With Denise's whispered instructions curdling his brain Stan took a moment to realise that her prediction was correct, Anne's orgasm overtook her and she fell against him, shuddering and twitching. Her spasming pussy pulled the climax out of Stan and he grunted once, twice, three times and then lay back, totally spent.

Anne rolled off him, and Denise grinned at Stan. She surprised him by taking his cock, now wilting, into her hand and licking it clean of their combined juices.

"Oh my God, is there anything you won't do?" he heard Anne ask. Denise's reply of "Not much!" brought exhausted smiles from both of her lovers. Denise spent a moment examining the cock she held in her hand.

"Oh, dear, I think we killed it," she said, "But I bet I know how to bring it back to life."

She crawled over to Anne and gently urged her legs apart.

Denise carried out her promise to Stan, and it had the desired affects. Anne came twice more under Denise's expert tongue and fingers, and Stan found his erection returned, so he put it to good use, pounding into Denise as she licked, sucked and fingered Anne again.

Finally exhausted they fell together in Stan's bed, with Stan the very happy meat in a girl sandwich.

"Gonna have to get a bigger bed," Denise said, into the quiet after they'd got their breath back.

"You two are going to send me to an early grave," Stan answered.

"You'll die with a smile on your face and a permanent erection though, Stan," laughed Anne.

They were quiet a while longer.

"So, are we all happy with this development? Anne?" Stan asked.

"I think it's weird, but yes, Stan. Actually, that's a really good word. Bizarre, fantastic, destined. I think it's how we were meant to be."

"It's how I wanted us to be, I know that," Denise said, from his right shoulder. "I love you both so much and always wanted to express it physically, to both of you."

"Yes, but you're bi," Anne answered.

"So, my love, are you!" Denise answered, with a giggle. Stan smiled and said, "She's got a point, Anne."

Anne tipped her head on one side and considered for a moment. There was no denying it.

"True!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Note: Lyrics quoted are an excerpt from "Independent Love Song" performed by Scarlet and written by Cheryl Parker and Joe Youle. If you haven't heard of this short-lived duo, I urge you to do so!



Equal Shares Ch. 50



It was a beautiful afternoon in Paris. The autumnal air was still warm enough not to need a coat or anything over the top of his suit jacket, and Stan walked out onto the balcony of the hotel room. He breathed deeply. Life was good.

He felt a hand in the small of his back, and another arm draped over his shoulder. He looked to his left, to see Anne, blonde hair up in a complicated looking knot, looking incredible in her ivory, flowing, strapless lace dress with a ribbon belt around her waist. To his right, Denise, gloriously curled red hair flowing past her shoulders and a slim gold headband holding the curls off her face and looking equally brilliant in her matching ivory halter dress.

"It's time, Stan," Denise reminded him.

"Okay," Stan answered. He turned. Anne stepped back inside the room, and Denise followed. Anne pinned the white orchid into the buttonhole of Stan's black dress suit, completing his costume. Then she stepped back to join Denise and they both faced him.

She and Denise picked up their bouquets, made of matching white orchid blooms. Anne asked, "How do we look, Stan?"

"Fabulous, my princesses. Fabulous."

"I love it when he says that!" Denise told Anne, and they both smiled warmly at each other. They turned to go, collecting their shawls from the king-sized bed. Stan followed. He kissed them both lightly on the back of the neck, and let them precede him from the room.

The hotel had a number of wonderful historic rooms, dating back to the 18th Century. Stan and his two partners had an appointment in one of them, named after a former French Queen.

Stan had cast around, trying to find a way to demonstrate his commitment to both of his wonderful women. He'd hit on this idea, broached it to them and they'd loved it, running with the theme. Denise had suggested asking Elaine and Susan for ideas. They'd suggested something like this afternoon's proceeding, and Ken had suggested this wonderful venue (and, incidentally, he and a grateful Sid had paid for it.)

Inside the Marie-Antoinette room they found their guests waiting for them. Just close friends. Elaine and Susan were there, and of course Elizabeth and her new husband, James. Maggie was standing next to them with Valerie and her husband, while her husband and Ken were standing at the far end of the room, in front of the expansive balcony. 

Stan had got the idea from a story he'd read, once. An extended relationship was celebrated by the traditional giving and receiving of rings, but with a twist – each partner got three rings, which interlocked.

He'd ignored the pagan ceremony that went with it, as none of them were particularly religious. But the idea had stuck.

Now it was time. Stan, Anne and Denise went to stand in front of Sid and Ken. Elaine, a remote in her hand, pressed 'Play' and the sounds of Eric playing "Let it Grow" filled the room. Once the song was over the music faded, to be replaced by a soft instrumental version of some Gershwin love songs.

Ken cleared his throat.

"We all know why we're here. Stan, Anne and Denise have decided to show their commitment to each other by the giving and receiving of rings, and by an exchange of vows. I understand that Stan has decided to be a gentleman, as always, so he'll be going last. Which of you two ladies will go first?"

"I will," called Anne in a strong voice. She stepped forward and turned to face her two partners.

"Stan, Denise. I'm no poet, as you know, but I found this, and it expresses what I want to say."
 "I take you both to be my partner,
to have, and to hold from this day forward."

"I give to you my unending love and devotion,
and I promise to be true to you, to cherish you, and to share
my thoughts, hopes, and dreams with you both."

"I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you
my best friends. I will love you forever."

She turned to her right, where Sid gave her a ring, which she placed on Denise's offered finger. She smiled at the redhead, splendid in her ivory dress, who smiled back as she pushed it all the way home.

Then Anne turned to her left, and took a similar ring from Ken which she placed on Stan's finger. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as she stepped back alongside him, and he took her hand and squeezed it momentarily.

Denise took her cue from a nod by Sid, and stepped in front of Stan and Anne.

"I decided that, this being a very non-traditional relationship, we ought to have something with at least a flavour of the traditional. So:"

"I give you these rings, wear them with love and joy.
I choose you to be my partners, 
to have and to hold from this day forward for better or for worse,
for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, 
to love and to cherish as long as we all shall live."

Denise placed a ring onto Anne's finger, and then put the second ring onto Stan's. He fiddled with them for a moment, then showed them to both ladies. The bands interwove and locked together, platinum and red-gold.

Finally it was Stan's turn. He took a step forward, turned smartly about, almost as if he were on parade and stood there, looking at his two loving partners.

Stan closed his eyes for a moment. Caron was still with him, and egging him on. His throat closed and he was unable to speak for a moment, but then he smiled weakly, shook his head a little, and cleared his own throat.

"It seems I'm not the only one who thought along traditional lines on this very un-traditional day."

"The sun smiles on us today, our wedding day, and how can it not, for
our love is stronger than forever and our hearts beat together as one.
I promise to be a true and loving partner from this day forward, in
all life's circumstances, as we face them together. In the joys and
sorrows, the good times and bad, in sickness or in health, I will always
be there for you, to comfort you, love you, to honour and cherish you both, now and forever more."

He took the ring from Sid and placed it on the tip of Denise's finger. "This, to me, is a marriage, sweetheart. Nothing less," he told her as they made eye contact and held it as he pushed the ring home, his platinum joining Anne's yellow-gold. Denise smiled, there were tears in her eyes but she was happy, that was certain.

To his left, Ken held the remaining ring. Stan took it and put it similarly on Anne's fingertip. "You, my beautiful darling, are equally my wife. Always will be," he told her, as they looked at each other, love in their shining eyes. On Anne's finger the rings were now platinum and red-gold.

Elaine cued up another track and turned up the volume. Carole King's immortal voice sounded out:

"Wanting you the way I do
I only want to be with you
And I would go to the ends of the earth
Cause, darling, to me that's you're worth

Where you lead, I will follow
Anywhere that you tell me to
If you need, you need me to be with you
I will follow where you lead..."

"I think it's traditional for the brides and groom to kiss..." said Sid, and all three moved at once, sharing kisses that went on, and on...

"Hey, get a room!" called Elaine and Denise pulled away to say, "What for?" with an impish grin on her face. 

It was the signal for the release of pent up emotions, and everyone clapped the trio, and crowded round, offering congratulations. There was champagne, of course, and other drinks available, and some canapés for those in need of a nibble. A small party developed.

After a while, Stan went out onto the balcony. The view across the Place de la Concord to the Assemblée Nationale was amazing.

Elizabeth came out to join Stan for a moment.

"She's still there, isn't she, Stan?" He knew exactly who she meant.

"Caron will always be with me, Elizabeth. You know that, you've always got George with you, haven't you?"

"Every hour of every day, whenever I need him, Stan, just as you'll always have Caron. Do they realise they're in a foursome, not a threesome?"

Stan smiled wanly at his old friend. "I wouldn't put it quite like that. Both Anne and Denise know I'll always love Caron, that's what matters."

Stan excused himself, and made his way over where Denise stood with Elaine and Susan.

"I was going to play "Congratulations" by Cliff Richard, but Suze threatened to throw me off the balcony if I did!" Elaine was telling Denise.

"I think I'd have helped!" Stan interjected. All four laughed.

"That's a lovely song, Laney, and so appropriate," Denise told her. "Thank you so very much."

"How are you two doing?" Stan asked.

"Better and better, Stan," Susan answered. "Of course, Laney here might be needing another job soon if the rumours about The Firm are true, but we'll have to see what happens."

"Actually, I doubt if it'll be as bad as they say. I know the old man's retiring, but his son is interested and pretty sharp. Even if he sells, that's not the end of the world. In fact, this whole thing might be the kick up the backside The Firm needs."

Anne came over and took Stan's arm. "Sid and Maggie are going, Stan, the rest will follow soon," she told him. "Come on, Denny, we need to say goodbye."

Stan, Anne and Denise bid farewell to each of their guests. Soon they were alone in the room, with some staff already coming in to tidy everything away in readiness for another function.

"Back to our room?" suggested Denise.

"Good idea," agreed Stan.

"I think he just has designs on our bodies," grinned Anne.

"That's okay, I've got designs on yours – both of yours!" Denise replied.

"Hmm. I think I might wear my collar."

"Ooh. Do I get to play, too?"

"Of course. You're my wife, aren't you?"

Laughing, they made there way back to their room. Stan had his arm around both of them. He reflected that now they each shared their love equally with the others, in all possible ways.

The three were now truly The Three. Equal Shares for all.



The End.
- - - - - - - - - 

Afterword

So we come to the end of this tale, of the story of Stan, Anne and Denise, of Elaine and Susan, of Elizabeth and James, and of all the other characters who showed up in Equal Shares. 

Writing this story took me just about a year. In that time I gained many things: new friends, new helpers and especially new editors. Bob Hebert is still with me, and I thank him from the bottom of my heart. The Nameless Princess joined the team early on to provide a feminine point of view and her own expertise in editing, and Ian Loxton joined me later on as well when Bob's illness and Nameless' hip operation prevented them from helping as much as they wanted to.

I had a loyal team of checkers, most especially da.bridge and Whyy. Both of these gave me valuable help, particularly with timelines and such. Da.bridge in particular read through each chapter several times, offering much in the way of advice and clearing up many problems before the actual editors ever saw the text. Whyy read along as well, offering encouragement, advice and some pointed comments when they were needed.

I had help from several other sources that wish to remain anonymous, but they know who they are.

During the year I also had help from several other writers who offered encouragement and in some cases highly constructive criticism. Once again I have to thank Strickland83 for this, but also Velvet Wood, Big Ed (Be287m) and many denizens of Nick Scipio's chat room and forum.

Outside of the online world, I have to thank my friend Jean who read each chapter as it came out, with every sign of enjoyment. She encouraged me to continue and gave me first-hand real confirmation that I could write well enough to entertain someone.

And finally, once more I offer all of this to my darling wife Karen. You mean so much to me sweetheart, even though your first reaction on reading some passages was to say, "You can't write that!" Well I could and I did, to the accompaniment of indulgent smiles. I spent a lot of time writing this, and she put up with it all. Thanks, love.