The Older Woman
by Lon Grover

"I don't know what to do about Jeremy," Marge said. "He's 19, and he's smart, but I don't think he's ever talked to a girl." She looked at each of us. "That's not exactly true. He talks with girls in class. Not that he's real social with anyone, but he freezes when he's near a girl. He reads 'Playboy', so I don't think he's gay."

The guys had gone to the bar while we girls ate lunch in the office. That's what they do when they figure there won't be much work on a Friday afternoon. People want the weekend more than an afternoon on the phone solving a problem. Having lunch without the men makes their noise and laziness for the rest of the day tolerable. At one time or another, we all spilled hurts and worries over Friday lunch. Marge's comment was part of the flow; she'd brought it up before.

From what I'd seen at the company picnic, Jeremy just didn't get it when it came to women. He wasn't just a geek though; he was cute and he spent time at a gym. Maybe her words stuck because I had wanted to model for "Playboy" five years or so ago, when I was about Jeremy's age. He could have been looking at my tits and ass with his hand on his cock.

Eventually, I took off my headset and logged out for the week.

Marge caught up to me in the parking lot. "Hi, Amy. How are you?"

"OK. Jeremy must really bother you; you've mentioned him several times. I'm glad I don't have to deal with anything like that, for a few years at least."

Her laugh was nearly a snort. "Thanks. It's not even my business. I have a hard time remembering he's not a kid anymore. He gets great grades and helps around the house. He'll get around to girls in his own good time."

"Lunch is good for letting off steam when you can't do anything, isn't it?"

"Sure, but what are you doing hanging out in a parking lot with an old woman? There must be a bar full of guys dying of disappointment."

"I'm not ready for that again, but I'd like to chill somewhere for a weekend."

Marge laughed. "You could do that at my place. Jeremy won't bother you, and I'm taking his sisters to my mother's."

Marge's girls are tweens. I didn't know her story, but I joined her laughter.

"With a silent, uncomfortable guy in the background?" I smiled crookedly. "That might not work."

Marge gave me that speculative, tilted head look people get when they're not sure where their thoughts are going. "Hmmm," she said. "I better go, or we'll get to Gramma's after bedtime."

* * *

"Coffee?" Marge asked on Monday afternoon. We sat in the shade beside the parking lot, on a bench. "I shouldn't dump this on you but I sure can't talk to my mother."

"Hey, I can listen."

"I keep thinking it would be easier if Jeremy's father was alive, like there's something fathers and sons do that gets them past this. That's bull; I have no idea how I'll react when my daughters get interested in guys, or don't. Why would it be easier for men? But I still feel like there's something I should do."

"I have enough trouble with guys in my life, let alone trying to figure out how to help Jeremy." I paused, thinking about what to say next. "A father might do something, though," I went on. "Tell me if I'm out of line, ok?"

"Hey, Amy, I dumped this on you. Say what you want."

"I've heard, back in the bad old days, some fathers hired a... specialist to show their sons the way."

Marge's stared at me. "How did you know what I was thinking?" she asked. "I would have done it, if I knew how. I sure wouldn't want some street chippy."

My smile grew. "Is that weekend still open?" I asked.

* * *

I parked in Marge's driveway about six o'clock on Friday. She and the girls had left for Gramma's more than half an hour earlier, and Jeremy knew I was coming.

An old fashioned two-note chime echoed when I pressed the button. I was almost ready to push the button again when the door flew open. All I could see of Marge's son was a dark, bulky shadow in the dimly lit hall.

"Hi, Jeremy," I said with a big smile. "I'm Amy. We met at the picnic last summer, but you probably don't remember me. Did your Mom tell you why I'm here? She offered to let me crash while they're working on the plumbing in my building."

He nodded and stood aside. I opened the screen and carried my small suitcase inside.

"This must be a nuisance for you, but I'll stay out of the way. Could you show me my room?"

He was taller than me, about five-ten probably, and solid, wearing a plain white tee-shirt, well worn jeans, and white socks. I got the smallest of four bedrooms, a combination den and guest room dominated by a computer and the mess of home finance.

"This is great. I thought I'd change and make something to eat. Would you like anything?"

He looked at me like it was a trick question. Then he nodded and went off to his own room.

I sighed and unpacked the few things I'd brought into an empty drawer and the closet. Marge had opened the sofa bed and made it up. I stripped off the professionally appropriate dress I'd worn to work, hoping not to wear much at all until Sunday. A CD was playing behind Jeremy's closed bedroom door, so he missed his first chance to see my tiny white shorts with a red braided belt, red halter, and not-too-tall white heels.

Marge had helped me plan a menu Jeremy would like. She'd even made a diagram to help me find stuff in her kitchen, including a pot that was out of my reach. When everything else was ready, I knocked on his door.

"Jeremy? Would you get a pot down for me?

The CD played. I knocked.

"Jeremy? I don't want to be a pest, but I can't reach the pot."

A chair scraped. His room looked just as I imagined: dimly lit and cluttered. The CD was louder.

"Hi, thanks," I smiled. "I appreciate your help."

He was on his way to his room by the time I got to the kitchen.

The pot would have been small for four people, but it was fine for me and a voracious young man; Marge had warned me to make more than seemed reasonable. The first meal was spaghetti, olive oil and garlic sauce, garlic bread, and salad. Everyday dishes and silver at the place Jeremy's father once sat and the one beside it. Cloth napkins without rings were the only extra touch. I knocked on his door when everything was done.

"Dinner's ready!"

Those words work on every male I've ever known, including this shy, cute geek. The CD stopped and he was in the doorway almost before I finished. I led him down the stairs, feeling my legs stretch and the ends of my halter strap tickle my back.

"Is this all right?" I asked, waving him to the seat at the head of the table.

He considered the chair, the place setting, me, and nodded.

"Have a seat. I'll bring everything in."

It took four trips to bring everything to the table and I'd bet he watched every step, as my heels exaggerated the roll in my hips. Between his gaze and the steaming spaghetti, my nipples came to attention under my light cotton halter.

I'd never gone after a guy so openly. My thighs rubbed when I walked and my pussy talked to me, hoping for some strokes.

"I hope it's not too much trouble having me here," I offered when he'd eaten most of the enormous mound he put on his plate.

He lifted his eyes, paused to gaze at my nipples before meeting mine.

"No trouble," he said.

They were the first words he'd spoken in my hearing. I barely had time to spot the dark ring around his pale brown irises before they dropped to his plate without checking the view.

"I thought I'd watch a movie after dinner, and get some sun tomorrow," I said. He liked to watch movies and believed his mom wouldn't approve of his choices, she'd said. I'd brought a couple of my own and hoped we'd watch together.

His eyes made a longer stop at my breasts before reaching mine.

"Look," I said, "We don't know each other, but there's no reason not to have fun, is there? Your mother will hear nothing about this weekend from me."

Still no talk, but he was listening.

"How about, after we eat, you help with the dishes and we pick a movie. Yours, mine, or your mom's, doesn't matter to me. With popcorn, ok?"

His eyes had locked on mine. I don't know what he was looking for, but finally he nodded. My breasts appreciated his consideration as a slice of garlic bread vanished between his lips.

I got the movies I'd brought while he watched the popcorn. He was on the couch in the family room when I came down, with a huge bowl of popcorn and a collection of videos on the coffee table.

He was all over my videos when I put them down, looking at the pictures and reading their backs. I leaned into a corner of the couch and tucked the ankle closer to him under my thigh.

"What do you want to watch?" I asked. "It's early enough for a double feature."

His boyish ass filled his jeans nicely as he took one of mine to the TV, and his tee-shirt stretched tight when he bent to work the VCR. He had a remote when he sat down, cockeyed in the other couch corner so he could watch me and the video.

The banker and his henchmen were after the girl's money, so the hero had to rescue her. She got kidnapped, tied up, and thrown over a horse's back. The hero had to figure out that the banker was behind it, find the shack where the henchmen had the girl tied to a chair, and rescue her. Fade to happy ending.

Jeremy forgot I was there by the middle of the show, which was all right with me. I eased along the couch, to reach the popcorn and, as the suspense reached its peak, slide under his arm. He shook his head to focus when the FBI warning came on and he discovered that I was practically in his lap.

I smiled and leaned toward him, offering what I hoped was a fair copy of our heroine's move. When he held back, I was afraid I'd set myself up for a long, dull weekend. Then he swooped in for a tiny peck on my lips.

I took his experiment for a hunting license.

My breast pressed firmly against his chest as my shoulder wriggled under his, I leaned against his arm, and kissed the side of his neck. I kissed his Adam's apple. I kissed his throat under the jaw, near his ear. Each kiss lingered and teased.

He turned toward me at last, to kiss me for the first time. He startled, when my tongue touched his lips, then his tongue joined mine and I invited it into my mouth as I stroked his thigh. He pulled back, panting, and stared into my eyes.

"What?" I smiled.

He stared and shook his head.

"It's ok." I stroked his cheek. "Kiss me."

The finger tips of one hand danced on my face while the others combed my hair. Touching Jeremy's cheekbone, his eyebrow ridge, ear, and neck made the world new, somehow. Stroking the skin at the side of his neck as the muscles worked his tongue in my mouth shifted my pussy into overdrive. I was wet, sure he must have my scent. His hand slipped along my neck to my shoulder, then my back. I twisted so he could get at the halter knot. We kept kissing, but the knot was distracting.

"Hey," I whispered, "there's a perfectly good bed in my room. It's a fold out, but I tried it; it's all right. What do you think?"

He nodded but caught my arm when I tried to stand. I looked over my shoulder at him, nodded. He used both hands to untie the halter knot while I watched. I smiled when he looked at me shyly with the cloth in his hand. I turned toward him as we got up, holding hands, drew a sharp breath when his free hand brushed the side of my breast.

"Come on," I said, pulling him along.

At the stairs, he turned me to lead the way, held my wrist against my spine as we climbed, my hips rolling freely in the tight, white, shorts. The thumb of his other hand slipped into a belt loop so he could feel my ass move.

The hand in the small of my back turned me toward him when we reached the bedroom, holding my wrist firmly as if he was afraid I'd try to get away. I gasped when his free hand cupped my naked breast for the first time. My eyes closed and I shuddered as the tingle in my nipple leapt to my pussy for a tiny cum. His eyes were on mine when they opened, his brows pulled together inquisitively.

"It's fine," I said, "don't stop."

He stroked my breast gently, his thumb and index finger pinched my nub. My breath whistled between my teeth when he pinched. He smiled, the look of concentration he'd worn since I arrived gone for the moment.

I watched his face as I stroked his back and side until I followed his belt to the buckle, and pulled it loose. His jeans were well-worn and the button yielded without fuss. His zipper slid down. My hand slipped in at the point of his hip. No underwear.

"Let me undress you?" I asked.

His hands fell to his sides when he released the hand he'd held behind my back. His cock leaped free as I worked his jeans over his hips, nearly erect and beautiful. I tasted his salty pre-cum as my hands slid along his thighs, pushing his jeans until they dropped to his ankles. His hand was in my hair for balance as he lifted one foot at a time. His ankles and feet were bony, his toes hooked, as if they were used to too-small shoes.

After tasting his cock slit once more, I ran my hands up his legs and over his hips to catch the hem of his tee shirt. When I had trapped his arms awkwardly inside it, I leaned in to kiss and tongue and nip his nipples. He gasped and twisted, panting and pulling to get free. I giggled, and he pulled the tee-shirt off, stretching it so it nearly tore.

He crushed me against his chest, our kiss needy, tongues dueling until mine relaxed and he owned my mouth. His hand was between us, working on my belt, button, and zipper as I had just done with his.

My shorts fell to my ankles as soon as he worked them off my hips. He dropped to one knee to help me with them, gazing at my pubic hair and the salmon colored flesh between my lips. My fingers danced behind his ears.

Jeremy lifted me off my feet, the way our hero had carried his girl from the villains' shack. There were no horses though, so he laid me gently on the bed, resting a knee on the mattress and bending to kiss my eyelid.

I caressed his belly, finger tips touching his cock before circling to weigh his balls. His breathing was heavy and ragged, so I rolled him toward me.

"Please," I gasped, "I want you."

His knee rolled between my wide-spread thighs, soon joined by its twin. His cock slipped into my hot, moist tunnel. A stroke or two, and his overwrought boy parts gave up their load.

Jeremy may have been a novice, but he held his weight on his elbows while he caught his breath. I stroked his back, and he began to cry. "I've never been with a woman before," he said.

"Everybody does it the first time, some time."

One of my hands was on his ass while the other fondled his shoulder.

"No, you don't understand. I've never kissed a woman, or even held hands. I've never done anything with a woman before."

"It's ok," I replied. "Everyone does all those things a first time. You were fine."

He collapsed onto one shoulder and rolled off me, releasing our mingled juices onto the bed. I rolled toward him, cuddling his head under my chin while he cried.

"It's all right," I whispered. "Relax. Shhh. Shhh." I've never laid in a cold, wet spot for a better purpose.

Eventually, he stopped crying and his hand moved absently on my belly. I fell asleep. He was beside me when I woke up.

Jeremy turned toward me when I touched his hip, woke up when I touched his cock, and we fucked. We showered together and spent the morning naked. I made breakfast, Jeremy helped me clean the kitchen, and we watched cartoons.

While we ate lunch, I realized that his eyes hadn't been off me more than a few seconds all morning. There are good reasons I didn't become a "Playboy" model, so his attention was flattering.

"Jeremy?"

"Hmmm?"

He dragged his eyes away from my breasts.

"I'd like some sun. Is there somewhere I could do that? Someplace quiet?"

Marge had told me about a sunny spot, protected from prying eyes by tall hedges.

"Mom has a chaise lounge behind the garage." His face fell; not a good idea to think about Mom.

"Would you put sun screen on for me when we've cleaned up?"

He has a beautiful smile. "Of course!"

I put on the shorts and halter I'd worn the evening before and Jeremy wore a pair of shorts until we stripped after checking the sight lines. He protected every square millimeter of my back, including the crack in my ass, with sun screen. I lay still when he finished. He chose a spot on the ground where he could look between my parted legs.

Jeremy was equally attentive to my front when I turned over, especially my breasts, inner thighs, and pussy lips. His cock stiffened. I bit my lip to be quiet when he slipped into my eager cunt.

"Did you ever play cowboys when you were a kid?" I asked, half an hour after he rolled off to study my crotch some more.

"We played all over the neighborhood."

"Did you ever play cowboys with a girl?"

"There weren't any girls our age."

"Did you wish there were, so you could rescue them from the bad guys?"

I watched him between my breasts as his attention shifted to my face.

"Yeah!" he grinned.

"You could rescue me, if you want to."

He ran into the garage through its back door for some old clothesline.

"Nyah, ha, ha! I've got you now! Your grandfather will have to sign over his farm so I can build a race track!"

"Oh, no! Let me go! Grand Pa-Pa will never give up his farm! You're too cruel!"

Jeremy tied my wrists to the corners of the chaise above my head and my ankles to its lower corners.

"You'll never get away! Grand Pa-Pa will have to sign!"

"Maybe, but not unless you put more sunscreen on me."

"Oh, right."

He was just as careful as the first time, since even 19 year olds need recovery time.

"You must tell me where Grand Pa-Pa has gone!"

"Never! I'll never tell!"

"We'll see about that!"

Jeremy pinched my nipple, squeezing more and more firmly while watching my face as I writhed and breathed harder.

"That feels good," I gasped, "but I can't keep quiet much longer."

His grip relaxed. "So, now what?"

"We could go in the house."

He looked at my breasts and pussy, then at my bound wrists and ankles. "All right," he said, "We have to move, but I don't want any trouble!"

He straddled my lap to release my wrist, held onto it, and released the other one. Holding both wrists in one hand, he slipped his other hand behind my neck and pulled me toward him.

His cock was hard between us.

My pussy buzzed.

He moved my arms and bound my wrists behind me. My breathing became ragged as his chest hair rubbed my nipples. He got up and released my ankles.

"Get up!" he ordered, and grinned while he watched me struggle to my feet from the low-lying chaise. "Let's go!"

He took my elbow. "Um, do you want to cross the yard naked?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Bad idea, huh?"

"Probably, but you could dress me and strip me when we get inside. No one will see that I'm tied if you walk behind me."

He grinned, held my shorts while I stepped into them, lifted them to my hips, kissed my pubic hair, and fastened them. He tied my halter in place and put on his shorts.

"Let's go," he repeated, holding me in front of him.

We crossed the yard quietly and went into the kitchen. He untied my halter and released my shorts as soon as the door closed, then dropped his own shorts.

I sought his lips with mine. Startled, he pulled back, but then he grinned and our tongues danced. I sagged against him when our kiss ended.

"You're so mean! I can't stand up any more!"

He looked concerned until he realized I was playing. "Yeah? Well, you'll just have to keep going!"

He held me up and led me to the breakfast table, where I slipped to my knees. "I can't go any farther!"

"Well, just a short break," he said, looking puzzled and resting his ass on the edge of the table to see what I was up to.

I grinned and took his cock in my mouth. It was firm enough to poke my soft palette and a little tongue work brought it to attention. He gasped and threw his head back when I sucked and bobbed up and down his shaft.

He was so excited, he came in my mouth almost immediately, thrusting his pelvis toward me and holding my head gently. I swallowed everything he gave me and cleaned his prick with my lips and tongue.

"That was great," he whispered.

"You may not get everything you ask for, but you can always ask," I grinned.

"I guess you've been rescued, huh?"

"That's up to you."

He tousled my hair. "We could watch a video," he said.

"Sure!"

He shuffled through the videos and picked the original Indiana Jones movie. "The girl gets tied up real good," he grinned.

I smiled, and he started the film. We sat at the same end of the couch with his arm around my shoulders so he could play with my breasts. The scene where the girl is tied to a tent pole lifted his cock, but it wasn't ready to play. I snuggled under his arm when the movie ended.

"I'm hungry," he said.

"What would you like?"

"I'd like to keep you tied up, but I'm a lousy cook."

"You could call for pizza," I laughed.

By the time the pizza arrived, I was tied to a chair at the breakfast table. My wrists were still tied behind me and, by a loop of rope, to the rear chair legs. My ankles were spread and tied to the front chair legs. My back was to the door, but I had a flash of anxiety and worried that Jeremy would add the delivery guy to our party.

He didn't, and we shared the same slices of pizza. I squealed when some of the hot sauce and toppings dripped onto my breasts. He licked me clean, gave me an evil grin, and let more stuff fall. After a while, some of the sauce fell onto my thigh. He looked puzzled for a moment, then shrugged and used his tongue on my thigh and pubic hair.

By the time we finished, my thighs and pubic hair had been well-coated with fixings and he'd gotten most of it off. He couldn't get into the creases between my thighs and pussy lips, or get a good angle on my pubic hair, but he tried.

Jeremy tossed the pizza box and wiped the table.

"I'm a mess," I said.

"We could take a shower," he smiled.

"That's one possibility," I grinned.

"You mean..." He looked at my crotch and licked his lips.

"If you want to; a shower would be fine."

He untied my ankles and wrists from the chair and helped me to lie back on the table, with chairs for my feet. Then he watched my face while he knelt between my thighs.

He licked my thigh and got his tongue into the crease. He caught some pubic hair between his lips and sucked the sauce and topping from it. He finished that side and started on the other thigh. There was sauce on his cheeks when he looked up.

"Looks like I get to clean you up, too," I laughed.

He wiped his cheek with his palm, looked at it, and shrugged. "I'm not done."

His tongue got between my lips, his first time, but I was wet, he was persistent, and he took direction well. My head rolled to the side and my eyes closed when his lips and tongue played with my clit the way I like. "Just keep going," I whispered.

My clit burned for release and my breathing was shallow and rapid. His tongue teased my button once more, and my thighs closed tight on his head. Startled, he looked at me.

"Don't stop," I pleaded.

His tongue went after my clit more fiercely. He pinched its stem between his lips and his teeth slipped clear. I barely felt them but it was enough. My legs crossed on his back to hold him against my pussy while my pelvis pumped against his mouth.

We looked at each other when I relaxed, and he struggled free.

"A shower would be nice," I smiled, "now."

He laughed and helped me to my feet, untied my wrists, and we took a long, hot shower. I cleaned his cock and crotch carefully, including a little mouth work, and he did the same for me. I wondered what plans he had for the rest of the evening until his fingers paid close attention to my asshole.

We snuggled and watched tv. "Are all girls like you?"

"No, but lots of women like sex more than you might think."

"How can I tell? They make it so hard to get near them."

"Women know what men want; it's biology more than anything. Once a woman is pregnant, she's committed to whatever happens. If the baby is born, she's a mom. She doesn't want the dad to have his fun and disappear."

"What about birth control?"

"Her brain knows she's using it, but her instincts don't listen. Besides, it doesn't always work."

"So, what can I do?"

"Believe it or not, it's harder to find women in clubs and bars. Most of them are looking for guys, but their defenses are up. They're looking for their idea of a perfect guy, so they brush off anyone who doesn't fit that particular mold.

"What about the women you go to school with?" I asked. "Work with them, have coffee or a soda, and you'll figure out whether they're interested. You'll talk, become friends with some of them, and some will go for sex."

"This was a setup, wasn't it."

"They really are working on the plumbing," I lied, "so I needed a place to stay for a couple of days. Marge and I are good friends, and we met at the picnic last summer, remember?" He nodded. "I thought you were cute, so when she offered to let me stay here, I decided it wouldn't hurt to try."

"This isn't going anywhere though."

"Probably not, but I'm having fun and I'm glad I'm here with you. I hope you're having fun too."

"Mmmm." His hands explored my breasts and crotch while we watched tv.

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"You said I could ask."

"Anything you want, but you might not get it."

"Will you let me fuck your ass?"

"I've only done that with one guy, and we knew each other really well. You'd have to go really slow and be really careful, use lots of lube."

"That's not 'no,' is it?"

"It's not 'no,' but it's not 'yes.' You have to stop if I say so."

"Saturday Night Live" started.

"Bedtime," I said when it ended, offering my hand. "Let's go upstairs and see what happens."

I added latex gloves and a full tube of lube to the condoms on the table, and got out a pair of manicure scissors. "Sit down," I said, waving him to a chair.

"What are those for?"

"You're fingernails are going to be really short. You're going to wear a glove, too, but short fingernails come first." I knelt between his knees to trim his finger nails. "When it's time, put on a glove and use lots of lube. There's no such thing as too much lube. Let me get used to a finger, then more lube and two fingers. If and when I'm comfortable with three fingers, you can try your cock. Go slow, use lots of lube, and don't forget a condom."

He nodded solemnly.

His mouth and hands were nice, but I didn't relax enough to get into it, and I stopped him when his finger touched my rosebud. "I'm not ready, Jeremy. We've had a long, fun day and I'm tired. Let's try again in the morning, ok? There's nothing wrong with you, I just need time to relax."

He was disappointed, but he accepted my decision. I couldn't believe many guys got to fuck as much as they wanted, tie up their partner, have a blow job, and eat the woman out during their first time. I also knew that one 'no' can wipe out a lot of 'yes,' but whatever happened had to be my choice.

We were better in the morning; he took more time and I was much more ready. He stopped when I flinched as his finger slipped past my sphincter the first time. "It's ok, go on."

I'd only been this far twice before and it was the first time a finger in my asshole turned me on. I tilted my pelvis to give him a better angle, and his finger slipped past my second sphincter. "Move it around for a while."

His finger moved in and out, then it made little circles against my muscles. "Mmmm, that's nice. More lube, and try another?"

My asshole felt cold and empty when his finger withdrew, but he was back quickly. I gasped and hugged him tight when he added a second finger. "Slowly, please go slowly."

Two fingers were more than twice as arousing, but my muscles didn't relax as quickly. He was patient, and eventually I asked for a third finger. He'd learned; he had more lube, he worked with one finger for a while, then two, before trying the third. My breath hissed when it's tip got past my first sphincter. "Oh, that's nice! Slowly now, don't rush."

He didn't.

"You need a condom and a lot of lube."

I rolled onto my knees and put my head and breasts on the mattress while he got ready. He knelt between my knees and worked his fingers into me, one by one, with lots of lube. "Fuck my asshole, Jeremy, gently."

His fingers withdrew and his cock touched my rosebud. I wriggled and pushed toward him. "Easy, Jeremy, give me your cock."

I breathed hard when his cock head slipped past my sphincter. He waited until I rocked toward him, then he pushed against the second one.

"Yes," I hissed, pushing my ass toward him.

He pushed, and his cock was in my asshole. I couldn't believe it; I was encouraging 19 year old Jeremy to fuck my ass after letting only one other guy get that far.

He stroked gently while my muscles relaxed, then firmly. He moved faster and my hips thrust to meet his intruding prick. He was young, I was tight, and he came quickly. He fell on top of me when I collapsed. We laughed about the stink when he rolled off, and went to take a shower.

"You didn't come, did you?" he asked.

"Not that time, but it's ok. I'm still learning what its like to have a cock in my ass. It felt good, but I was thinking about it more than I was turned on. I came just fine when you ate me out though, remember?"

"Yeah, that was nice."

We started the sheets and towels in the washer and made sure all the used condoms and gloves were in a bag I would take with me. Jeremy put the rope in the garage.

"It's time for me to go; thanks for a great weekend."

"Double for me. I've never had a weekend like it."

"You won't have many; it was intense."

"Yeah, thanks."

We kissed, and I was gone.

* * *

Marge and I met in the parking lot about six weeks later.

"Amy, hi!"

"How's it going?"

"I don't know what you did to Jeremy, and I'm not asking, but he's a different person. He smiles and laughs, he cleaned his room, and he even brought a girl over one afternoon."

"That's great! I'm happy for you both. Tell him I said, 'hi,' would you?"

Now, if I could just figure out how to get something interesting going in my own sex life.

The End

Copyright 2010 by Lon GroverAll rights reserved.