Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Storiesonline.net ------

   Brenda

   by oyster50

   CopyrightÂ(C) 2012 by oyster50

   ------ Description: Steve is on the road at a remote site when he runs
into Brenda, a co-worker from his office.  She's there to spend a couple of
days training.  So's Steve.  But days change into nights, and it's two
adults in a strange town.
Codes: MF cons het cheat oral pett

   ------



   ------

   Chapter 1

   Monday afternoon in October.  I was just getting ready to close the lid
on my computer when Brenda walked in.

   "What are YOU doing here?" she asked with a smile.

   "I gotta do a little training and a little hand-holding," I said. 
"Brady's not really comfortable with the new equipment.  So what are YOU
doing this far from your office?"

   I was an engineer.  Fifty-five.  Pretty good shape.  Losing hair.  Okay,
twenty pounds were there that I needed to lose.

   Brenda managed one of our maintenance database programs.  Brenda was in
her mid-forties, fifty pounds overweight, brunette, with interesting
streaks of blonde added, tastefully arranged.  Her grey eyes seemed to me
to be constantly laughing, pleasant.  She had a quick, sarcastic wit and
got along well with people, whether they were the engineers and
administrators of the regional office where she normally worked, or the
dirty-hands mechanics and technicians of the various remote sites like this
one.

   "You know that they just rolled out a major upgrade to the program," she
said.  "I have to go to every station and do a couple of days of training
so everybody can use it." She sighed.  "Like everybody uses it in the first
place."

   "I know what you mean.  Computers.  They scare the daylights out of the
old guys.  At least some of 'em."

   "Yeah," she said.  "I have two of those here."

   "They'll try, or not, but there's others who'll pick up their slack," I
said.

   "Uh-huh," she frowned.  Then she started smiling again.  "So where're
you staying?"

   I named the hotel, a mid-priced one, part of a national chain.

   "Me too," she said as she hauled out a projector.  "As soon as I get
this thing checked out for tomorrow's training, I'm headed there."

   "Lemme help you," I said.  I was pretty proficient with the projector in
question, having used it myself.  Together we figured out the location and
made sure that it was going to work with her laptop.

   She started putting her computer away.  "So if you want, we can eat
dinner together.  I hate going to eat by myself."

   "None of the station guys wanna go?"

   She shook her head and said softly, "No."

   "I can't figure that out," I said.

   "Some of 'em would get in trouble with their wives, and some of 'em just
wanna get home, and I'm not exactly the one that..."

   "That what?"

   "If ...  Let's just say if I was twenty an' blonde and a hundred and ten
pounds..."

   "We're talking about dinner, right?"

   "Yeah!  You up for it?"

   "Sure!  I'm like you.  Gets old eating by myself."

   We left the site in separate company cars and drove fifteen miles to the
nearby town.  I let her check into the hotel ahead of me and we went to the
elevator together.

   "What room?" she asked.

   "Two-twelve," I said.  "You?"

   "Two-forty-four.  What time d'ya wanna go to dinner?"

   "Five-thirty okay?" I asked.

   "Sounds good.  I'll call you," she smiled.

   I went to my room, slipped off my shoes and took a little nap, then took
my personal computer out and checked personal email, then washed my face. I
was looking at the clock when the phone rang.

   "Hey, Steve," she said.  "You hungry?"

   "You betcha," I said.

   "See ya in the hall, then."

   I stuck the keycard in my back pocket and stepped out into the hall. 
She was walking toward me, that permanent smile beaming.  We walked through
the lobby.

   "Let's take my car," she said.

   "Your call," I said.  "You got a restaurant in mind?"

   "You don't mind Mexican, do you?" she asked.

   "Look at me.  Does it look like I'm picky?" I laughed.

   "You an' me both," she said.  "Mexican it is."

   We were sitting in the restaurant, talking about the work and the people
and enjoying things in general.

   "You drink wine with your meal?"

   "On occasion," I said.

   "This is an occasion," she answered.

   "And it's on expenses," I laughed.

   "That too," she giggled.

   The meal was pleasant.  Brenda was an excellent conversationalist,
knowledgeable in many areas, and we talked our way through the meal.

   "You know who's on Monday Night Football?" she asked.

   I named the teams.  "That was going to be my evening," I said.  "Eat,
shower, watch the game."

   "Mine too," she sighed.  She looked at the wine glass.  "This is pretty
good stuff.  I could use a bottle."

   "Not while you're driving," I said.

   "No, but a couple of glasses while I watch the game..."

   "Yeah, but I wouldn't see the end of the game," I laughed.

   The waiter brought the check and I flipped my card at it.  "Let me
pay..." then I saw the twinkle in her eye.  "Well, my card.  Company pays!"

   We walked out of the restaurant into the waning light and drove up the
road toward the hotel.  She pulled into a package liquor store.  "What was
the name of that wine?"

   I told her.

   "Come in here with me.  I'm gonna buy a bottle."

   I went inside with her and she did indeed get a bottle of a very
pleasant wine.

   As we completed the trip, she looked at me.  "This is pretty pleasant,"
she said, "having company like this.  You know, we don't have to watch the
game in separate rooms."

   "No?  You wanna go watch it in the lobby?"

   "Nahhh, I wanna get my shower an' get comfortable, but if you wanna go
do YOUR shower, then come to the room, I got two queen beds.  That way I
don't talk to myself, if you're there."

   "You know, that might be a good deal."

   She smiled.  "And that way I don't have to drink this whole bottle by
myself."

   We walked back into the hotel and went to our separate rooms again.

   "I'll call you when I get finished with my shower, ' she said.

   "Okay.  See you in a bit."

   I closed the door behind myself and started undressing, thinking of how
pleasant and comfortable the evening had been to this point.  Comfortable.
Brenda was NOT the kind of female that had you hanging your tongue out,
then when you couldn't get close to her, you ended up whacking off in
frustration.  Besides, at fifty-five and divorced, I was adept at handling
frustration.

   I showered, shaved, dabbed on some aftershave and deodorant and donned
the clothes, jeans and a pullover shirt, that I expected to wear the next
day, and then waited.

   A few minutes passed and the phone rang.

   "This is Steve," I answered.

   "Hey!  Come on down.  Have you been watching?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "Nothing to nothing, so far.  I'll see you in a
minute."

   I walked up the hall and knocked lightly.  She opened the door.  I
looked.  She was wearing a hugely oversized football jersey.  It reached
almost to her knees.

   She read my eyes.  "Oh, I hope this isn't too relaxed.  I mean, it
doesn't show as much as the dresses I wear to the office."

   "Oh, no," I said.  "That's fine.  Wish I had something as comfortable, '
I finished as I stepped inside.

   She flipped the deadbolt and the lockbar.  "Habit," she said.

   There were two queen beds, one showing that it had been used.  I kicked
off my shoes and stretched out in the other, propping up on pillows.

   She got her bottle of wine.  "Forgot a corkscrew," she said.

   "Got a Swiss Army knife," I said.  "Lemme do that." I opened the bottle
handily and she produced a couple of water glasses.

   "Classy," she laughed as I poured us each a generous serving.  She took
a tentative sip, then a longer drink.  She wrinkled her nose, grey eyes
twinkling.  "Mmmm," she said.  "Good!"

   We watched the game for a while.  She looked at me as I moved, trying to
get a bit more comfortable.  "How about another glass, Steve?" she asked.

   "Oh, yeah," I said.

   She poured us each another.  Giggled.  "I don't drink that often.  Kinda
buzzed," she admitted.

   "Me too," I said.

   We knocked back the second dose and the split the remainder of the
bottle between us.  She was grinning.  "You know, Steve, you look
uncomfortable, buddy.  I'm comfortable, you know.  This is what I sleep in.
What'd'you sleep in?"

   "I don't have any pajamas," I said.

   "What'd'you sleep in?" she repeated.

   "Drawers and a T-shirt," I said.

   She smiled.  "You COULD get more comfortable, you know..."

   "Uh..." and the wine sort of dulled my good sense.  "Yeah, I guess I
could, but..."

   "But I don't mind," she said.  "You're over there.  I'm over here.  Go
ahead.  If you WANT to."

   "Okay," I said.  "Why not?" I stood and stripped my pants and socks off.

   She looked me up and down.  I was half-hard, producing a respectable
bulge in my drawers.  I tried to turn, attempting to hide it, and I thought
I saw her eyes change.  I lay back down on my side, propped up on an elbow
so I could watch the game.

   Hair.  The normal look Brenda affected had her hair held in place with
spray, not a bad look, but all my life I'd despised hairspray.  The Brenda
I saw right now had the soft look of shampooing and blow-drying and was a
softer, more pleasant look.  I shouldn't have said anything, but I made the
comment.

   "You like it like this?" she sounded surprised.

   "I hate the feel of hairspray," I admitted.

   She stroked her hair, then ran her fingers through it.  "I never paid
any attention.  Always used the stuff, since I was a teen," she said.  Her
eyes brightened.  "You can touch it..." she got up and sat on the edge of
my bed.

   It was offered, and I couldn't resist.  I reached, stroking the
softness, relishing the feel, ending my stroke by smoothing it onto and
over her shoulder and the back of her neck.  "Feels nice," I said. 
"Really..." I stroked some more.

   "That feels so nice," she said.  "You ...  if I stayed here, would that
be okay?"

   That was the point where I could've stayed sane.  Brenda was married. 
Had pictures of husband and kids and the new grandbaby on her desk and
walls at her office.  And I could've easily said something to defuse the
situation, but instead I said, " Sure, Brenda."

   "Just wanna be touched," she said.  "Like you were doin'..."

   "Then scoot over here," I said, holding my arm out for her to get close
to me.  She took the signal and snuggled her plush body against me so I
could continue to caress her head.  I didn't restrict myself to her hair.
Her face wasn't made up now, after her shower, and forty-odd years showed
on her, but who was I to be complaining: she was close and warm and
completely pleasant and my fingertips bushed her cheek once, tentatively.

   Instead of a 'no' or a 'stop' or a movement away from my touch, she
turned her face to give me better access.

   "Mmmm, feels soooo good, Steve..."

   "You sure?  I can stop."

   "Don't," she said.  She turned onto her side, moulding herself against
me.  I couldn't touch her head with that arm any longer, but it did fall on
her side.  I know that some guys get upset with the idea of a fat woman,
but this ...  Brenda, yes, her side wasn't a smooth curve, but rather a
couple of rolls of fat, but it STILL felt good to touch, at least to me. 
And I touched her gently, then pulled her even closer.

   "I'm not grossin' you out?"

   "Whatever would gross me out, Brenda?"

   "I'm fat.  Old an' fat."

   "You're ten years younger than me, so that takes care of the 'old' part.
And fat?  Who cares?  You're YOU.  So what if you're not some fairy's idea
of a super-model?  You're very pleasing to look at.  You smile, you're
smart, you're funny, and you sure feel good laying there."

   Her arm, the arm that had been folded between us, it came out and
wrapped over my chest.  My turn to go "Mmmmm..."

   She looked up at me.  "Steve, it's been years since ...  like this..."

   "Seriously?  But ...  you're married."

   "Seriously.  Old and fat ...  he doesn't..."

   "I'm sorry, Brenda."

   "Not your fault, guy," she said.  "If you wanna stop..."

   I could've said 'yes', but I didn't.  "No, Brenda.  Not as long as
you're okay with it.  I get lonely too, you know ...  bein' single."

   "Then keep holdin' me." She wiggled against me, and the somber mood
ended with a little, soft giggle.  She pulled up a bit, bringing our faces
together.

   "You need to prepare yourself, sir."

   "Prepare myself?  For what?"

   "For getting kissed." She smiled, eyes atwinkle.  "You DO wanna get
kissed, huh?"

   My turn to do something.  If she was thinking 'kiss', then I wanted to
kiss her.  That soft, sweetly fragrant hair?  I ran my fingers through it
and gently urged her fact to mine.  The first contact of our lips was
almost frightened, but then she got bold and she WANTED to be kissed. 
After the second or third, she was halfway on top of me, our arms wrapped
around each other.  I was hard.

   She sighed between kisses.  "Steve, is it okay if I blame all this on
the wine tomorrow?"

   "As long as you keep kissing."

   Her lips touched mine again.  I loved her tongue as it teased mine.  I
let my hands play, one caressing her cheek as we kissed, the other tracing
her back softly, then pressing her against me.  That hand went as low as
the break between her back and the swell of that plump ass.  I stopped, not
going further, and I guess it was obvious.

   She pulled her lips from mine.  "Nobody told you to stop, guy," she said
softly.

   I took that as permission and followed the lush, soft curves, receiving
purrs into my mouth as we kissed.  Her right hand had been palm flat on my
chest.  It slid purposefully downward and when it contacted my rigid
member, we BOTH moaned.

   "You're excited," she giggled.

   "No joke, Brenda.  This ...  you're the sexiest thing I can imagine
right now..."

   She smiled.  "Been a long time since somebody said I was sexy, guy," she
said.  "Or touched me like that," she said.  "Your hand..."

   My hand was cupping a lovely bit of her ass.  "Feels good, lady," I
said. I decided that I wanted under that nightshirt and started easing it
up.  She made no move to hinder me, and when I got the hem up past her
panties, I slid my hand inside them, touching her warm skin.

   She responded by fishing my dick out of my underwear.  As she softly
explored it, she asked softly, "Steve, what kind of things do you like?"

   I was sliding my hand around her hip, then pushing it gently under her,
heading for her pussy.  "Everything, angel," I said.  "What you're doing is
wonderful.  What do YOU like?"

   She kissed me with even more passion, then pulled her mouth away and
whispered, "I think I would like to be eaten, and I would like to suck
this..." She stroked my shaft in emphasis.  "We can do that, can't we?  I
mean, it's not REALLY sex, is it, if we don't go all the way?"

   I was relishing the thought of that happy face, the face I enjoyed so
often, laughing in meetings, talking in the hall, THAT face, happily
sucking me, and that was sure enough sex to me, but if she wanted to act
otherwise, I'd go along.  "As long as we don't go all the way, baby..."

   She let out a little gasp as my fingertips found their way into a very
wet slit.  Yes, it WAS a fat pussy.  And I was anticipating the happy idea
of sinking my face into it.  My fingertips explored her pussy, working into
a surprisingly tight hole, then tracing their way through the juice to her
erect clit.

   "God, Steve, I'm about to come right now..."

   "Then I think I should be enjoying this," I said, gently flicking her
clit.

   "Yesssss," she hissed.

   I knelt in the bed and started her panties down.  She raised her butt to
let me finish as I carefully moved the crotch from between the crevices in
her crotch.  As I pulled them down her thighs and calves, she peeled that
nightshirt over her head, revealing full, rounded titties, the nipples
prominent, centered in light brown circles of her areoles.

   I couldn't pass those up.  They both got sucked as I moved downward.  I
ended up in the midst of a juicy, musky pussy, almost dripping with juice.
And I enjoyed that juice.  And when I pushed my lips and tongue between
those lips and found her clit, she went wild.  Her hands clapped the back
of my head, pulling me into her as I licked and sucked.  Some women don't
like direct contact with the clit.  Brenda wasn't one of them.  The more I
licked and sucked, the more violent she shuddered.

   "OhgodohgodohgodSteeeeve" and a welling of juice from her pussy that I
eagerly lapped up.  She relaxed immediately, falling back against the
pillows.  "Come up here, baby," she sighed.

   I did.  I held her to me, gently touching her face, caressing, loving
her.  After a bit, I explored those large titties, savoring the round,
heavy fullness.

   "Kiss me, Steve," she said.

   I kissed her.

   "It's been so damned LONG," she said.  "I needed YOU to do that to me.
It's not the same when I do it to myself."

   "Glad you liked it, Brenda," I said.

   She smiled.  "Do you like to be sucked, baby?"

   "I'd love for you to suck me, Brenda," I said.

   "I dearly want to suck you.  I want to feel you, taste you when you come
in my mouth."

   I was just about ready to spurt right then, between the erotic flavors
still lingering on my tongue and the throaty, eager words she spoke.

   "There's gonna be a lot, Brenda," I said.

   "I want every drop," she said as she slid down in the bed.  She curled
her fingers under my balls.  "I love balls," she said.  "My husband hates
having his played with.  I LOVE 'em."

   "They're yours, Brenda."

   "I'll be careful," she said as she tugged gently, rolling them around,
pulling them inside the sack.  She was between my legs and I felt a hot
mouth close over one, sucking gently, her tongue bathing it, then she
repeated the move on the other.  My dick was starting to pulse on its own.
I think I was getting ready to come just from the treatment my sack was
receiving.

   She slid upward a little and licked the length of my dick then enveloped
the head in her mouth, covering me with exquisite moisture and warmth and
pressure.  She went as far down the shaft as her mouth would allow, the she
sucked as she withdrew.  She looked at me and smiled.  "God, I love this,"
she said.

   "Oh, Brenda, that's wonderful," I exclaimed.  "But baby, I'm very
close."

   "I think so," she grinned.  "And I'm gonna get it." Her head bobbed back
down and she stroked with one hand, played with my balls with the other,
and her lips slid up and down my shaft, augmented by her tongue and teeth.
"Mmmmmm," she said.

   "It's ...  ohgod, Brenda ...  I'm ...  coming..." I blurted through
clenched teeth.  The first squirt was like nothing describable, and it was
only the first of several, her tongue and throat working to draw the
maximum load each time, then as the spurts subsided, she kept sucking,
purring deep in her throat.

   Finally, her head came up, smiling.  "I can safely assume that you
enjoyed that?"

   "Like nothing ever before in my life, Brenda.  Come up here."

   She did, and I kissed her, brushing her lips with my tongue, teasing her
to open her mouth to me, and then her kiss got hotter as she realized where
my own tongue was.

   The orgasms must have sobered us.

   "Steve, I haven't done any of this with anybody but my husband since
high school," she said, her grey eyes confirming the words.

   "Then why tonight, Brenda?  I didn't come here to take advantage of
you..."

   "If anybody took advantage of anybody, I took advantage of YOU, Steve,"
she said.  "And I don't feel like I've been used..." she paused.  "I feel
like I've been fulfilled.  I was tellin' you the truth.  It's been so long.
We've had a sexless marriage for years."

   "Brenda, you're a good friend, and I've always been happy to work with
you, and I don't want to ruin that," I said, honestly.

   She kissed me again.  "Hush, baby.  You're not ruining anything." Her
hand was stroking my dick again, and it was half-hard.  Her eyes twinkled.
"But I'm not finished with this thing." She twisted in the bed and
enveloped me again.

   I moaned.  "God, Brenda, that's gooood!"

   She came back up beside me, stroking me, tugging me, as she rolled onto
her back.  "C'mere!"

   "I thought..."

   "A girl can change her mind," she smiled.  "If you..."

   I answered her by rolling over in between those meaty thighs and wiping
g the head of my dick up and down the length of her juicy pussy, then
easing inside her, causing her to sigh.

   I had no idea how difficult it would be to get her to come like this,
but I knew that what I was feeling would easily make ME come, although the
fact that less than a half hour before, I'd had one of the most momentous
orgasms in my life.

   "Oh, yessssss, baby!  Fill me!" she hissed, her hands grasping my waist.

   I dipped my head, taking a nipple in my mouth, holding it there with
suction, licking it.

   "Bite!" she hissed.

   I bit.  And I stroked in and out of her, her own hips surprisingly agile
as she worked herself against me.

   "Nnnnk.  Nnnnk.  Ohgod, Steve.  Againnnnnn!" and she was coming, a blush
coloring her, starting with her face, moving down to cover her chest.  It
was real.

   So was mine as her pussy clenched on my shaft.

   Her eyes sparkled.  She smiled.  "YOU did, huh?"

   "Ohgodyes," I said, grinning broadly.

   "Good thing we have two beds, otherwise somebody'd have to sleep in the
wet spot."

   I eased off her and she snuggled into my arms.  "Don't go back to your
room, Steve."

   I looked into the grey eyes and the softy rounded face.  "I was hoping
you'd say that, Brenda," I answered.

   "I crossed a line," she said.  "And I don't care.  I needed that.  Her
lips were so moist and enticing.  We kissed.  "I needed you."

   All I could do was smile.  "Kinda adds a new dimension to friendship," I
opined.

   "Would I be a terrible person if I said I didn't want this to be a
one-night thing?" she asked.

   "No, baby," I said.

   "Baby," she repeated.  "Sounds so good when YOU say it."

   "I have a hard time classifying what we just did as a purely physical
thing, Brenda..."

   "Me too, baby," she said.  "More than friends, then?"

   "Yes.  More than friends." I kissed her again.

   She smiled.  "So you said you're gonna be here tomorrow night, too?"

   "Yes, I am."

   She pulled me closer to her.  "Good.  Really good."



   ------

   Chapter 2

   It had been a long time since I had somebody in bed with me all night.
It was sufficiently alien that I awoke several times during the night at
the feel of a soft form next to me, and I know that when I reached over to
verify that I wasn't dreaming, she rolled against me and snuggled.

   The alarm went off and she reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.
I was worried.  I mean, lots of things make a lot of sense at ten o'clock
at night with a bottle of wine inside you.  The next day, though...

   My fears disappeared with the appearance of her smile.  " You're still
here..." She pulled me in for a kiss.  "I thought you'd get up in the
middle of the night and make your escape."

   "I thought you'd start screaming when you woke up next to me."

   "And neither of those things happened," she grinned.  "Breakfast?"

   "Why not?" I said.

   We went to breakfast together, then took our own cars out to the site to
do our respective jobs.  She had lunch catered in for her class, and I took
my technician out to a local diner for mine.  As far as anybody could tell
from our activities, we were just like the day before.  After work, though,
as I was driving back toward town, my cell phone rang.  Brenda.

   "Hi," I said.  "What's up?"

   "You.  Me.  Dinner.  An old movie on TV." She paused.  "If you want."

   "Sounds perfectly lovely."

   Girlish giggle.  "Then let's go in one car.  I'm behind you."

   "Okay." I beat her to the hotel.  I was just getting out of my car when
she pulled hers behind mine.  I got in.

   "You oughtta let me drive sometimes," I said.

   "I don't mind," she said.  She drove us to a seafood restaurant.  "Is
this good?"

   "Perfect." We went inside and had a good meal.  Wine.  I had a seafood
platter, complete with a half dozen fried oysters, causing her to smirk.

   "Are we recharging?" she asked.

   "Don't need to recharge," I said.  "Something keeps me charged, if the
circumstances are right."

   Her eyes sparkled and she smiled broadly.

   "And that smile pretty much does it.  If it's meant for me."

   "Who else would it be meant for?" she asked.

   We talked about our day, company politics, small talk.  The price of the
meal went to expenses.  The ticket was in my wallet.

   Back at the hotel, she said, "You go get your shower..." then she caught
herself, "Unless..."

   "Unless what?"

   "Unless, you know ...  you wanted to SHARE a shower ...  IF I'm not..."

   "I'll have to go to my room and get my stuff," I said.

   "You will?!?!?"

   "Brenda, why wouldn't I?"

   "'Cuz you're half a bottle of wine shy of where you were last night when
we..."

   "Wine didn't do all that, baby," I said.

   I went to my room and collected my bags, then went to hers and knocked.
She opened it, still clothed.  I was thinking that just maybe...

   "Didn't use hairspray today," she said.

   "I noticed."

   "You did?"

   "Yes.  I pay attention."

   Apparently paying attention is worthy of a kiss.  I got one.  A good
one. And a pair of hands starting to unbutton my shirt.

   "I haven't showered with somebody else since I can remember," Brenda
said.  "We're being awfully brave, you know..."

   "Brave?  What's 'brave' got to do with it?" I queried.

   "You, getting ready to see me naked.  Me, because this is, like, the
FIRST time I've shown myself to somebody who wasn't a medical professional
in five years..." Her eyes flickered briefly to sadness and back to mirth.

   I surveyed Brenda quickly.  She was still in the clothing she'd worn
today: not exactly haute couture, but tasteful and businesslike and
actually quite flattering, at least in my estimation.  Of course, my
thinking could be colored because she was my friend, she smiled, she was
intelligent, and I wasn't a person who NEEDED to see something out of a
swimsuit calendar to think a woman attractive.  I told her so.  "Brenda,
stop beating yourself up.  You're very happily attractive..."
"Thank you," she said, punctuating her rods with a kiss.  Her fingers

fumbled with my belt buckle.

   I started undressing her, unbuttoning the tunic she'd worn over slacks,
uncovering magnificent breasts supported by her bra, round shapes that I
couldn't keep my hands from.  I softly caressed the rounded forms.

   "Mmmmm," she purred.  "You touch me like you're interested."

   I kissed her, my lips touching her lips, then her cheek, then her neck,
and I whispered, you are a delight to the senses, Brenda.  And yes, I AM
interested..." I slid my hands around to unhook her bra.  I don't know if
her softly exhaled sigh was from the relief of the bra's tension or from
the idea that I was undressing her.  Maybe it was both.

   I slid her tunic off her shoulders, then removed her bra, kneeling
before her.  Her titties uncovered, they sagged.  Yes, forty-year-old full
breasts sag in the real world.  Happily the sag left pretty nipples
pointing forward, begging to be suckled.  I complied, relishing the fingers
clutching the back of my head.  As I suckled, I hooked my fingers in the
waistband of her slacks, stretched the elastic, and tugged them to a puddle
at her feet.

   I pulled my lips away from her nipple and buried my face into the lush
softness of a her plump belly, relishing the feel of warm soft skin as I
slid her panties down past her rounded ass and over her thighs.  This
revealed something else, something that I sensed with my nose before I
pulled my face back to my eyes could see the patch of dark hair that marked
it: her pussy.  It was exuding musky messages of delight.  And all I did
was breathe deeply, savoring the scent, and plant a simple, soft kiss in
the patch of hair at the beginning of her slit.
I stood.  Her hands grasped my head and pulled us together, lips to

lips.

   "You're making me weak in the knees," she sighed.  Her grey eyes
twinkled.  "My turn..." she whispered, kneeling.  She'd managed the
disconnection of my belt and unbuttoned my pants.  The zipper was a happy
warning.  She slid my trousers down and cupped my shorts-clad ass with both
hands, rubbing her face against the hardness that was hiding in those
shorts.

   "You just KNOW what I'm gonna do, don't you?" she giggled.  She pulled
the elastic waistband out and down, exposing my erection, which sprang out
at an excited angle.  Briefly she glanced up at me, then her lips opened
and sucked the head of my dick into her mouth.  She was absolutely right
about the weak knees.

   "One more," she said, and this time when she sucked, her fingers
cradled, tugged and caressed my dangling balls.

   She stood, kicking her pants off to the side, leaving herself completely
nude.  A flash of bashful concern came to her eyes, but she saw my own
appreciative expression and it disappeared.  "You're not disgusted?"

   "Disgusted?" I asked, smiling.  "No, that's NOT the word.  Try
'entranced' or 'enthralled' or 'fascinated'.  Or 'excited'.  Definitely
excited."

   She glanced downward.  As she stepped forward, warm fingers encircled my
shaft.  "I can see that, sir." A soft kiss.  A giggle.  "A shower, then?"

   We did shower.  I always loved showering with a happy female.  A
feminine form that offered so many delights of touch and texture when soft
and clean and dry offered a whole new set when wet and slicked down with
soap and warm water.

   We bathed each other slowly, lovingly.  I shampooed her hair, she with
her back to me, and she backed into my arms as I rinsed the suds from her
head.  I wrapped her in my arms and held her to me, my hands reveling in
the softness of her breasts.

   We got out of the shower and lovingly dried each other, then she
attended to drying her hair as I shaved.  After we both brushed our teeth,
she, still completely nude, stepped up to me, eyes bright.  I knew ...  I
kissed her, caressing her head...

   "Let's ...  bed ...  she whispered throatily.

   We tossed the covers back and attacked each other in the middle.  After
frantic minutes, she was giggling.

   "Happy?" I asked.

   "Yessss," she hissed as my fingers dipped into her juicy slit.  "Can I
tell you something?"

   "Anything.  As long as it's not 'go to your room..."

   "Never," she said.  "what I was trying to tell you is that I NEVER had
this..."

   "Making love?"

   She shook her head, smiling, lips parted.  "Not like this."

   "But you have grandkids..."

   "Apparently, Mister Wainwright, one can procreate with absolutely
mediocre sex..." she said, kissing me, pushing me gently so I laid back in
the bed.

   "So I've heard," I answered.  "But surely..."

   "Surely, nothin'," she giggled between little kisses.  "Before Daniel,
it was high school girl stuff.  Back seat, half drunk, Hump hump hump, over
for him, that's it.  And Daniel wasn't, apparently now that I've been with
YOU, particularly caring or artful."

   "Artful?" I laughed, my mouth heading for an earlobe, just to get
another serving of her giggles.

   "Yes, artful, Steve.  You've made ...  you're making me realize that
every INCH of my body can feel sexually aroused." She giggled.  "An' that's
a LOT of inches these days..."

   "Stop that!  You're funny and smart and alive and a feast for the
senses. Makes me happy to see YOU happy."

   "Mmmmm," she purred through a kiss.  "I AM happy.  Steve, you can say
'no', but I wanna ask ...  sixty-nine?  I mean, I'm kinda heavy..."

   "I think I'd like it best with YOU on top," I said.

   Giggle.  And she quickly turned, laying full-length on top of me, thighs
spread, pussy slicked with juice, juice that I'd learned last night was as
aromatic and delicious as anything I'd ever sampled.  My lips were just
about to touch those magical folds of glistening skin when indescribable
joy shot from my dick.  Her mouth had closed over it, sucking, teasing, her
tongue...

   "Gahhhh, Brenda, that's soooo wonderful."

   Her answer was a giggle and another suck.  The giggle changed to a gasp
as my mouth sealed over her pussy and my tongue intruded between those
lips, gathering nectar.

   "OhgodSteve ...  make me COME!"

   Since making Brenda come meant that Steve had the pleasure of
ministering to her excited pussy, that's exactly what happened.  My tongue
gathered gouts of musky, salty juice as she shuddered atop me, her hips
jerking through orgasm.

   When she came down from the heights, she rolled sideways off me.  I
turned in the bed, cradling her soft form in my arms.  I kissed her lightly
on the corners of her eyes, right where the tiny wrinkles were.

   "You make me feel soooo wonderful, guy," she said.

   "You are wonderful, lady," I said.  "Truly wonderful.  And delicious."

   A smile formed on her lips.  "Delicious ...  you were getting delicious
when I lost my mind ...  I think I wanna finish that ...  she kissed me on
the lips, our tongues wrestling, then she kissed her way to my chest,
teasing my nipples, feeling the shudders she caused, then lower, kissing,
tonging my navel, my dick straining, hard, WANTING release.

   Release came in the form of her lips softly encircling me, sucking, her
tongue measuring the head inside her mouth, then her teeth lightly biting.

   "I didn't bite too hard, did I?" she questioned.  "I WANTED to bite
you...  '

   "Ohgod!  I'm about to explode.  The biting was PERFECT!"

   Giggle.  "I've never made one work like this..." her very next loving
sucking, biting ...  and I exploded."

   "Mmmmmm," she moaned, drawing the cum from me in spurt after spurt.  Her
fingers measured the progress of my orgasm by the tension of my balls.

   I fell back against the pillows, trying to get my breathing regulated.
She sucked me gently as I softened.  I felt her let my dick fall from her
mouth.  I was surprised when she moved and her mouth took first one ball,
then the other into her mouth, gently sucking, washing, as she purred. 
THEN she came up beside me and nestled into my arms.

   "I'm back," I said.

   "Really?  Where'd you go?"

   "Some parallel universe.  Time stood still..."

   "Glad to have you back," she chuckled.

   I nuzzled her hair away from her ear and gave the lobe a little kiss.

   "Oh, gosh, Steve, let me downnnnn..."

   "I like you just where you are, lady," I said.

   "What if I scoot up just a little..." She scooted higher, where our
mouths conveniently met.

   The kisses, the caresses, the tender sounds.  She giggled again.

   Brenda was happy.  Seeing her around the office, she always seemed to be
smiling.  If she wasn't smiling, due to some work mess, a word from a
co-worker usually brought the smile in.  but Brenda in my arms, THIS was a
happy Brenda.

   "I just noticed something, Steve."

   "What's that, Bren?"

   "Something's poking me.  And I thought I did a proper job of draining it
just a few minutes ago."

   "I'm afraid that doesn't work, baby..."

   "Doesn't work?"

   "Nope.  As long as tow things are happening..."

   "What TWO things?"

   "You're naked in my arms, and I'm still alive..."

   "I don't know if I've ever been THIS alive myself." Her hand slid
between us, touching my hardening dick, hastening its rebirth.  Her eyes.
Her eyes glittered with excitement like a teenaged girl who'd discovered
the joys of making happy love.

   She kept talking excitedly.  "YOU just came.  GOOD!" She made a show of
licking her lips.  "So if it's hard again, I can ride that thing..."

   "Ride me..."

   "I wanna.  I wasn't too heavy for sixty-nine..."

   "Never."

   "And you're hard and I want you inside me and I wanna ride you..." Kiss.

   I stroked her hair, touched her face with the backs of my fingers,
caressing.  Gently she pushed me onto my back, then I watched her plump
body straddle me, felt those plush thighs gripping me, my dick sliding into
a hot, excited pussy.  She grasped my breasts, her fingers tangled in my
chest hair, and she looked down on me, lust in her face.

   "God, you feel good," she said, and she started stroking, rocking,
bouncing, her hips' agility belying her size and her years.  She arched her
back, and I could feel her clit dragging at the base of my dick on each
thrust.

   Her tits dangled in front of me, teasing me, begging me to play, so I
took one in my mouth, massaging it with one hand, my other hand caressing
its mate.

   Her breath hissed as my tongue worked on her erect nipple.  I changed to
its mate.  Another hiss.  I was making little upward thrusts in time with
hers, feeling the exquisite sensations of her pussy.  She was sitting down
hard at the bottom of her motions.  I could actually feel her butt cheeks
touching my sack each time, and with the juices we generated, each time it
felt like a pair of tongues licking my balls.  I wasn't going to last too
much longer.

   "Nnnnnnghhhh, ohhhhh, Steeeeeve..." Her eyes clamped shut, her mouth was
open as she sucked her breath in.  "Oh.  Oh.  Oh.  Yessssss!" Her hips
slammed down.  I knew she was there.  Now, if only I could get just a tiny
bit more stimulation, I'd be there with her.  I thrust up into almost dead
weight, but that pussy was hot, its walls clamping, and I came. 
Spectacularly...

   She was still coming.  She fell forward in my arms.  I struggled to stay
inside her as I continued to squirt into her center.  And I held her in my
arms.  Her mouth attached to my chest as I kept the little thrusts in time
with her spasms and mine, and she sucked, then bit, heightening the
sensations, prolonging my orgasm.  I clamped my hands on the back of her
head, unwilling to let a single feeling wane.

   Yes, they did finally wane, as they always did, and as she slid sideways
off me, her lips brushed mine.

   "Wow!  Just WOW!" she said, a smile on her lips.

   "Indeed," I replied.  "You're something..."

   "Yeah," she said.  "I'm something ...  Forty-four, and just found out
what REAL sex is like..."

   "Oh, come on, Brenda, you're not trying to tell me..."

   She rolled toward me, propping up on an elbow.  "That's EXACTLY what I'm
telling you.  And not just the sex, either, Steve." She sighed.  "You act
like you care..."

   "Not an act at all," I said.  "Aside from the fact that neither of us
has a stitch of clothes on, you're a good friend and co-worker and a
wonderful person and I'd treat you like this anyway."

   "I believe you would," she said.  "But..."

   "But what, little one?"

   "But after this is over ...  I mean, tomorrow I drive back to the home
office."

   "Me too," I said.

   "So what happens?" Her grey eyes locked with mine.

   'Ah ...  the REAL question, ' I thought.  "Still have to work together.
Still friends.  But..."

   "But just suppose that I don't want THIS part to end.  Would you?"

   "No," I said.  "You're a unique gem, Brenda.  Don't know what it is, but
you push all my buttons."

   "Mine got pretty well pushed, too, sir," she smiled.  "And not just this
little pink one," she said, gently pulling my hand between her legs.  "But
what about the day after tomorrow..."

   "Brenda, after my wife left me, I didn't think that I'd ever do what we
did..."

   "Like cheating?  Steve, me neither ...  But all these years, livin' in
the same house, sometimes sleepin' in the same bed..."

   "Sometimes?  You're married and you don't sleep with your husband?"

   "Not very often.  He says he gets cramps in his back if I get in his way
while he's sleeping..."

   "Funny," I said.  "I don't remember any cramps."

   "Steve," she said, "I was serious.  We haven't ...  had relations in at
least four years."

   "How can he avoid THIS," I said, caressing her cheek.

   "It's just not the same," she admitted.  "THIS isn't ...  never WAS the
same..." and she kissed me.

   "I'm not sayin' that I leave 'im, Steve ...  It's just that ...  you
know, if there was a way that we could, you know, just like this..."

   "Brenda..."

   "I know ...  Steve, I don't know where you are in YOUR life, I mean,
other women..."

   "None.  Not right now..." And I looked into those grey eyes and I knew
my answer was now incorrect.  There WAS a woman.

   "I mean, if you're committed to somebody else, I ...  We wouldn't..."

   "There's nobody..."

   "Steve, next week I need to do this training at another station..." she
said, almost sadly.

   I smiled.  "Isn't that a coincidence?" I replied.  "I need to be there
for a couple of days myself."

   And that became the relationship.  Not EVERY time, but most times that
Brenda was at a remote site, wearing her training hat, I was there doing
some sort of investigation or inspection or training of my own.  Since her
management was a different branch of the corporate tree than mine,
management never noticed the large number of 'coincidences', nor did any of
our co-workers.  We were in different circles, circles that interlocked for
some happy evenings and loving nights.

   We had almost NO contact while in our home office, other than the
occasional meeting in the coffee room, and those were no more than the
social interactions that we both had with ALL our co-workers.

   Outside of work, we studiously avoided each other in public.  I
certainly wasn't about to go to HER house.  One time, and one time only, I
met her.  We left her car in a public parking lot and went to MY place for
an evening.  I had prepared a special meal, and we shared it together,
along with a decent wine, and three wonderful hours of each other.

   Brenda.  She certainly took a lot of stress out of my life.  I found in
her, even in our two-day trysts, a fulfillment, a release, in our joining.
Every time, though, as I watched her going away, I felt an emptiness.  She
was becoming more than just something to fill a couple of nights and
relieve some tensions.

   I found a real friend, bright, witty, argumentive about some things,
compliant about others.  We had fun.  But was it the kind of fun that I
wanted to have in dribs and drabs?  Why was it I was longing to hear words
from her that would validate the giggles and coos?  I soldiered on.

   And the problem came to a head.

   Ten o'clock one evening, my phone rang.



   ------

   Chapter 3

   The phone rang.  I looked at the caller ID.  Wasn't a number I
recognized.  I was getting mad, thinking of who had the gall to call me
this late, or a wrong number or ...  I answered.  "This is Steve."

   The voice on the other end was familiar but tearful.  Brenda.  "Steve, I
needed somebody to talk to."

   "Okay, Brenda," I said.  "I'm here."

   "I moved out today, Steve."

   "Whaaat?!?!?  Baby, what happened?" I was shocked.

   "I found out he's been cheating on me for years with a woman at work.  I
felt so bad about what you and I did, you know, but it turns out WE were
karma for what he's been doing to me." Her sob was changing to something
I'd never experienced, Brenda mad.

   "How'd you find out?" I asked.

   "That's the horrible part, Steve.  My daughter broke the news after he
went off on me about something.  SHE knew.  Said she kept hoping that we'd
fix our marriage, Steve.  And the stupid fucker had no intention of telling
me or anything, just keepin' his thing going on the side."

   "Well, Brenda ...  what's next?"

   "I'm filing for divorce in the morning.  I know an attorney.  But I
moved out.  Tomorrow I'll get an apartment."

   "So where are you right now?"

   "At my daughter's house."

   "It's safe for you to call me from there?"

   "She's in the kitchen, and she knows you're my friend."

   "Are you staying there tonight?" I asked.

   "I could.  But..."

   "You can certainly stay here, baby, if you think that's prudent.  I
mean, he might have you followed."

   "I'm not worried."

   "What will you tell your daughter?"

   "That I have to get away tonight, and that we, her, me, her sister, we
need to have a family meeting tomorrow."

   "But..."

   "Steve, I need my friend tonight."

   "Are you okay to drive?"

   "Of course."

   "Come on.  The garage'll be open.  Park in it."

   "Thank you, Steve.  I need my friend tonight."

   I pulled on a pair of pants.  I still slept in a T-shirt and drawers,
and that T-shirt was enough for now if I added pants to the mix.  And I
went into the living room and waited.  Thinking.  Thousands of thoughts
coursed through my mind, because that's how my mind works.

   I considered.  I surmised.  I analyzed.  I'd known Brenda for several
years, always the competent and pleasant co-worker, even though in our
official capacities we seldom crossed paths.  And I considered that in the
past three months, I'd known her in a most unprofessional sense, as a
friend and more, a happy, enthusiastic lover, a funny, pleasant,
intelligent companion, somebody both fun and challenging to converse with.
Half the world would look at here and think "over-weight, over-age, over
the hill", but I had found otherwise.

   In the back of my mind, though, was that line we'd both crossed, having
to do with marriage vows.  I knew how I hurt when my wife had left, even
though we both had given up on having a real marriage long before.  It was
the idea of failure.  And then I'd turned around, against my own
self-imposed rules, and now I'd been heavily involved in a very sexual
relationship with a married woman.

   No!  Scratch that!  I was heavily involved, and it was MORE than sex.  I
wasn't a horn-dog grabbing his erection at the thought of meeting Brenda on
one of our strangely synchronized out of town forays.  I was looking
forward to sitting across the table from her, talking, seeing the eyes
alternately soften, then flash, then twinkle as we rode a conversational
roller coaster, and I relished kicking back, half-clothed, in bed or on the
odd sofa together, laughing at a TV movie, and yes, I savored making love
with her and sleeping with her and waking up to her soft, plush form in bed
with me the next morning.

   But she was married.  Operative term: WAS.

   I was still running through the stack of 'where the hell is this going'
routines in my head when the flash of headlights illuminated the drapes.  I
went through the kitchen, though the laundry room, and opened the door into
the garage.  Brenda's car pulled in and I hit the switch to close the
automatic garage door.

   I opened her car door; she swung out and leapt at me, wrapping me in her
arms before I had a chance to spread mine to hold her.

   "Stevestevesteve..." and then the floodgates opened.

   I'd seen luggage in her back seat, but that could wait.  I had a crisis,
and it was wrapped around me, sobbing.

   "Let's go inside, Brenda.  Then we can talk, okay?"

   Her head nodded assent, the sobs softening, and we walked inside.  No!
Not the bedroom.  We walked to the living room.  I eased her onto the sofa
and I sat next to her, our separation a compromise between chaste and
familiar.

   She didn't let that distance stand.  "Steve, please just hold me."

   I slid closer and took her in my arms.  She had hers folded between us,
a pose that would have been interpreted as a means of insuring propriety
under other circumstances.  This time, it was because she wanted to be
completely held.

   I assessed the condition of the Brenda in my arms.  No make-up.  Hair
brushed, clean, fragrant, but not her normal 'fixed' for work.  She was
wearing stretch jeans and a loose cotton blouse.  That meant that she'd
gone home from work today, done her evening shower, and finished it and
was, as she put it, 'bumping around the house.'

   I rested my cheek against her head, allowing little tendrils of her
perfume to tease my nose.  Finally, she heaved a sad sigh.

   "Baby..." I whispered.

   "I'm still 'baby' to you, Steve?"

   "If you still want to be."

   "Where did I run to, Steve?  Where?"

   "Here."

   "Then I can still want to be 'baby'?"

   "Are you okay?"

   "A marriage of twenty-four years just flew apart." Her eyes flashed,
some of the life-light showing in them, that light that I doted on.  "I'm
just PEACHY, Steve, okay!" Sarcasm.  Was that a good sign?

   She took a deep breath.  "Sorry.  You need a kiss." It was longer than
two friends leaving a party, but it wasn't one of those 'we're heading for
bed' kisses, either.

   "What do YOU need, Brenda?"

   "Someone to talk to." Her grey eyes connected with mine.  "Right now."

   "I'm here for that."

   She sighed.  "First, this isn't YOUR fault.  Apparently my husband has
been doing this woman for years.  All this time I thought that the reason
he was so distant with me was that I'd changed.  Okay, I have changed.  I'm
older.  I've gained weight.  But so has he." She sat back a bit on the
sofa. "But that started YEARS ago, and I was twenty pounds slighter, and
quite a few wrinkles younger.  And he still..."

   I was supposed to listen.

   "Ellie ran into them while she was on a DATE." Those grey eyes flashed.
"Can you imagine?  You're out on a date, and you see your DAD curled up in
a booth with somebody who's NOT your mom?  She confronted him.  He talked
his way out of it, the first time.  It happened again.  He told her that WE
were working through 'issues'.  And all that time, HIS out of town
trips..."

   I twinged.  It must have been noticeable.

   "No, Steve.  NOT the same.  We, he and I, we were under the same roof,
but the marriage?  He'd tossed that out YEARS ago.  I don't feel guilty."
She looked at me, her expression telling me that she was worrying about ME.
"You shouldn't, either.  We're adults.  If things would've been right at
home, what we did, what I wanted, that wouldn't've come up."

   I dared to lean forward and touch her cheek.

   She continued, "This afternoon when I got home, I did the normal thing,
walked in, stuck something in the oven for dinner, showered.  He and I and
Ellie were at the table eating because her husband's working an evening
shift at the hospital, and he started in on me about the out of town work
and how I should be there to make sure the house gets taken care of and the
bills paid because he, by God, has to work out of town, too, and he started
getting louder and more abusive, and Ellie uncorked on him about the reason
he worked out of town was so he could drive over to meet his floozy like
he'd been doing since she was seventeen."

   Brenda's eyes started wetting up again.  "I said 'floozy'?  And Ellie
told me everything she knew about him and that woman and how long and where
and 'Mom, why don't you check his cellphone calls and his credit card
statements?' And when I looked at him, I knew it was all true, because when
he gets mad and he knows he's wrong, he shuts up.  And he wouldn't say a
WORD."

   "I started asking questions, and he started on about how I was fat and
old and Ellie started yelling at him and he left.  Ellie and I talked for a
long time.  She told me to move out and get an apartment and a lawyer.  She
wanted me to go home with her, but they have a tiny little apartment until
they close on their house, and so I told her that I had other places to go.
Friends." She looked almost shy.  "At least one."

   "What's your plan, sweetness?" I asked.

   "Just like Ellie said.  Call a lawyer I've heard about in the morning.
Look at an apartment.  Lock down all the bank accounts and credit cards."
She looked serious.  Her confidence was coming back, then it waned again.
"Steve ...  for until I get an apartment..."

   "You can stay here."

   "I'll be discreet."

   "You be whatever you wanna be," I said.  I rethought.  "Uh ...  yeah,
you need to be careful.  What would people say?"

   "I know," she said softly.  "And I WILL get an apartment.  But it may
take a few days.  Do you mind if I hang out here?  He's not gonna be home
for a few days.  Another out of town trip, conveniently enough.  But I just
don't want to stay there."

   "You're here, Brenda.  You get a choice of where to sleep.  I have a
spare bedroom..."

   "Why would I be concerned with that, Steve?" she asked softly.

   "Because I don't want to be the kind of sleeze-ball that takes advantage
of a woman under an emotional strain."

   She looked at me, vestiges of that twinkle in her eye.  "Oooo-kayyyyy
then.  Would you be the kind of sleeze-ball who would deny his best friend
comfort when she really, really needed it." She paused.  "WANTED it." She
leaned forward and our lips met.

   I breathed Brenda for long, savoring moments.  When the kiss finally
waned, she said, "I have some things in the car."

   "I'll go get them."

   She followed me into the garage.  "Steve, I'm perfectly capable of
carrying my own bags."

   "So am I," I said.  I brought them through the house.

   "This one goes in the bathroom," she said, dragging her little make-up
case away.

   "Do you want me to hang these things up?" I asked loudly.

   "That would be nice," she said, walking into the bedroom.  "Do you have
empty drawers in here?" She was standing in front of the dresser.

   "All of them on that end.  Use what you want."

   I hadn't realized that what I'd just said could be taken as suggestive,
but when I turned, she was smiling, her eyes in full twinkle.

   "Lady," I said, "When you smile like THAT in my bedroom, one or more of
us is in big trouble."

   "That'd be BOTH," she said.  Then her face clouded.  "Steve, you're my
friend.  You don't have to do this if you feel guilty about it."

   "W-w-wait ...  The GUY'S supposed to be the one saying that," I laughed.

   "I'm trying to be serious here, guy.  I know we've been to bed together,
uh ...  I've lost count.  But I know this time's different." She looked
serious.

   I paused for a second.  Then I said it.  "More than friends, Brenda."

   Her eyes sparkled again.  A smile.  "I know you feel like that.  Me
too."

   It was with familiarity that we met in the middle of the bed, naked. 
She'd learned months ago that I was quite able to find in her form a reason
for happiness.  And arousal.  Definitely arousal.  This clash was hot for
the both of us.  I felt like I was being attacked, used.  She took charge
and rode me as long as I could stay hard, shuddering through a couple of
orgasms, her second coinciding with my first.

   The second round was soft and loving.  And we went to sleep.

   The alarm was a complete surprise to me in the morning.  I had to go to
work.  Brenda called in for a personal absence.  Before I left for the day,
I returned to the bedroom and scooped her soft form into my arms for one
last kiss.  "I hope things go your way today, baby..."

   She smiled and kissed me back.  "My night did..."

   I went through the day pretty much on autopilot.  No, this hadn't
happened before, not when Brenda and I were just two friends who happened
to find refuge in each other's arms.  Today there was a certain psychic
load that I hadn't felt before.

   Before, I felt that Brenda was getting a little bit of happiness from
our relationship, but the rest of her life was pretty good, husband,
daughters, home, work.  Today, I came to work thinking that Brenda suddenly
had a much bigger void in her life.

   At lunchtime I left the office for a solo meal and as soon as I cleared
the door I called Brenda.  "How's it going, baby?" I asked.

   "Lawyer's taken care of.  Got a court order locking the accounts, and my
next paycheck's going into my NEW account.  I just looked at an
apartment..."

   "Damn!  You've been busy!  It's not even lunchtime."

   "Not a big deal, Steve.  Divorce is just a matter of filing papers these
days.  And Ellie's apartment complex has a little one coming vacant.  I can
move in at the end of next week.  It's not much, but it's a rental, not a
lease, and it gives me my own place for as long as I need it.  And I can
move out any time."

   "Do you have plans for until you can move in?" I took a breath.  There
was an answer I was hoping for.

   "Do I need any, Steve?"

   "Nope.  Absolutely not.  You've got a key.  Make yourself at home."

   "Thank you, Steve.  You're good to me."

   "Somebody needs to be, baby," I said.

   "You are," she sighed.

   At the restaurant, I ran into co-workers who motioned me to a vacant
seat at their table.  We ate, talking about a lot of things, including
office gossip, but apparently news of Brenda's separation hadn't made it
into the line-up of topics.  I was inwardly glad because I've heard the
tongues wag before over various social anomalies in the lives of one
co-worker or another.  Offices always seem to have an undercurrent of
gossip.  I didn't want to hear Brenda's name in that context.

   The afternoon dragged.  I was confused at my own feelings.  What was I
supposed to be feeling at this time?  I felt guilty.  Yes, I'd let myself
fall into a relationship with a married woman, and as much as I tried to
assuage my guilt over it, I'd crossed a line.  I knew it.

   I was trying to figure out who the victim was, though.  Brenda?  Would
Brenda's situation be different if we never connected?  She tells me that
her husband was cheating on her for years before she and I tied up.  Me? 
My conscience bothers me.  I guess it should.  But Brenda crying in my arms
over her failed marriage was a grand counterbalance to any pangs of guilt.

   I tired of arguing with myself.  Four o'clock came.  I headed home.  I
knew whom I needed to bring to this discussion.  As soon as I got free of
traffic, I called her.

   "Hi, guy," she said.

   "Hi, baby," I replied.  "Are you okay?"

   "Are you on your way home?"

   "Yes."

   "Are you going to toss me out?"

   "No way."

   "Hurry home then.  I feel lonely."

   "I'm peddling as fast as I can," I said.  Twenty minutes later I clicked
the remote to my garage door and pulled my SUV in beside her car.

   Brenda was standing in the doorway waiting for me as the garage door
closed behind us.  I walked into waiting arms and it felt good.  The lips
that met mine felt even better.

   "It's strange, Steve.  Really strange.  I've always had somebody to go
home to, well, until the girls moved out, and he wasn't on the road, but it
was MY house."

   I didn't reply to that statement.  I just held her.

   She finally let go and led me into my house.  "What do you usually do
for dinner on days like this?"

   "Oh, sometimes I cook a little something, sometimes not.  D'you have
something in mind?"

   "I can call that Chinese place and we can drive out and get it and bring
it back here."

   "That'll work."

   "I'm not ready to go out in public, Steve.  I don't want people seeing
us together just yet."

   "I understand."

   "It's still kind of a secret."

   "I understand, Brenda."

   "If ...  Nobody has to know that I've even been here."

   "Brenda, I don't care if people know for my sake.  I just think it'd be
easier for your sake.  Word's bound to get out sooner or later.  You
staying with me won't look good."

   She kissed me.  Her staying with me certainly feels good.

   "I didn't know if you wanted to do that, lady," I said.  And I kissed
her back.

   "I'm nervous, Steve.  Scared, a little at least.  I've never been in a
position like this."

   "Just relax, Bren," I said softly.  "I'm here for you.  I will stand
beside you, in front of you, wherever I need to be.  And you have your
daughters, and I'm sure your family will stand by you.  And you have other
friends."

   "Steve..." Her eyes were wet.  "Are you ...  Is this too awkward?"

   "How is it awkward?"

   "You know.  We had us a fun little thing going.  A night or two here and
there.  No strings."

   "Look, Brenda.  You've never been a 'thing'.  I liked you before we did
anything.  I like you even more know that I know you.  You're smart and
you're funny and you're easy to get along with and you're interesting, and
not a single one of those things was dependent on us ever sleeping
together. It's just that we sort of liked sleeping together and I found out
the rest of that stuff and I don't care if we ever sleep together again,
I'll still think those things."

   "you say a lot, Steve."

   "I'll show you.  I thought I had shown you."

   "You always did when we were out of town.  But this is home for both of
us."

   "I won't change, Bren," I said.  "Once it's out, that you're getting a
divorce, that there's a been a little time, then we can sort of ease this
onto the scene.  But you need to know in your heart and in your head that I
want to be the guy who puts his arm around you in public, the guy that
holds your hand.  That sits across the table and smiles."

   "And if we can swing an out of town boondoggle?"

   "Would be lovely.  Or just maybe you need to get out of town this
weekend, you know, to sort things out."

   "Sounds like something I need to tell my daughters."

   I smiled.  She smiled back.  "Let me call in that order.  You can go
pick it up."

   "Okay," I said.

   She made the phone call.  I kissed her on the way out the door, and in a
bit I was back with our dinner.  We sat at the table across from one
another and ate and talked.

   "Where do your daughters think you are?"

   "I told them that I had friends.  And that I was going to be out of town
the next couple of days, at least."

   "Have you heard from him?"

   "No.  don't care."

   "You'll have to have some contact with him when you start settling the
divorce."

   "My lawyer says I don' have to talk to him.  I can direct all
communications through the attorney."

   "That's the hard way."

   "Might change my mind later, but right now I don't want to talk to the
bastard.  Steve, he turned his back on my years ago."

   "What about your stuff?"

   "The girls are gathering most of my clothes.  Leaving enough there so he
can't counter-sue on abandonment grounds."

   "Wise," I said.  "I didn't think of that."

   "That's the guy's specialty.  He's highly recommended."

   "I know the name.  And the reputation from both sides of the aisle."

   We finished our meal and cleaned up the breakfast nook where we'd eaten.
She took the silverware and added it to the load in the dishwasher and
started it.

   "Uh, I just thought, will we have enough hot water for a couple of
showers?"

   "Yes," I said, touching her arm gently.  "Or if you're worried, we could
conserve water."

   Her head whipped around.  "We've never done that.  I noticed the big
shower stall.  Didn't want to presume..."

   "Presume nothing, lady.  There's not an inch of your body that I haven't
enjoyed."

   She giggled.  "That's a lot of inches.  And I enjoyed you enjoying them.
So.  Together?"

   "If you want.  You and me, we're not just about sex."

   "But it's pretty darned good, isn't it?" she smiled.

   The shower was good, too.  And contrary to what one might think, it
didn't descend into orgasm.  No, we cooed and fondled and kissed and
caressed, then got out, finished our post-shower rituals and curled up
together on the sofa for a little TV.  About nine o'clock, we both decided
on bedtime.  After a very warm and enthusiastic coupling, we snuggled into
one another's arms and went to sleep.

   Tomorrow is a new day.

   ------ To Be Continued...  ------ Posted: 2012-01-30 Last Modified:
2013-08-21 / 10:34:45 pm ------ http://storiesonline.net/ ------