Susan was back a minute later, her hair brushed and still as naked as the day she was born. She was distracting as Hell, and the look on her face told me she knew it. My cock throbbed again but I resolutely ignored it and hurriedly pulled on some clothes.
“Okay,” I said, as much praying for luck as thinking, “you remember where the coat closet is, right?” She nodded. “I’ll go down first and distract them. When you hear me start talking about leaving, just get your coat as fast as you can and get into it like you’re putting it on over your clothing.”
“You’re the boss,” Susan told me, but it wasn’t the confidence builder I might have hoped for.
I took a deep breath and started downstairs. Everybody was where I expected them, which was a comfort. I walked into the kitchen, where I could keep Mr. Wagner looking away from the hall and Mrs. Wagner completely out of the sightline. “Good morning!”
“Oh, Good morning, Lloyd,” Mrs. Wagner greeted me. She really did treat me as if she were my own grandmother. “I wondered if you two were ever going to get up!”
“I just lost track of time. The snow seemed bad last night and we thought it was better not to try driving. I hope you don’t mind Susan staying over; I was just going to drive her home now.”
“Not at all, dear,” she smiled. “I know you wouldn’t do anything improper.”
The comment was so off-base I had to pause and file it for later consideration. I didn’t think sharing a bed for the night with an unattached woman would count as “proper,” at least for the Wagners’ generation.
“Except get into the liquor, perhaps,” Mr. Wagner said.
I didn’t take the comment too seriously, but I could hear him getting up, which would mean trouble if he turned around to go back to his chair. “I’m sorry about that,” I said, moving to the kitchen doorway and engaging him. “We were a little chilled and sat in front of the fire. I realize we forgot to put the glasses away.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he waved, “what’s the point in having it if nobody ever drinks?” He winked at me. “I’ve been known to have a nightcap with a girl from time to time, too.”
I saw Susan’s head crossing behind Mr. Wagner, but nearly died when Mrs. Wagner spoke up from right behind me.
“Good morning, dear! Are you sure you won’t stay for breakfast?”
“Good morning,” Susan called back. She just made it out of sight before Mr. Wagner turned around to look for her. I waited for an explosion from Mrs. Wagner, but it didn’t come; apparently I’d blocked her view sufficiently she hadn’t seen anything.
Susan reappeared a moment later, with only a single button fastened on her coat. She worked on doing up the others, driving up my blood pressure but revealing nothing, as she walked over to join us. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you; Lloyd has said such nice things.”
She exchanged handshakes with both of the Wagners, after which Mrs. Wagner asked again, “Would you like breakfast?”
Susan cocked her head, as if considering it. We both knew she couldn’t keep the coat on if she stayed, and that she wore nothing beneath it. I didn’t think the Wagners had noticed she was barefooted.
“We really can’t,” I apologized. “She already has an appointment for brunch, and we’ll be pushing it if we leave any later.”
“Maybe next time?” Susan suggested. I started nudging her in the direction of the door.
“You’re always welcome,” Mrs. Wagner assured her. Mr. Wagner chimed in with, “don’t catch cold,” which was a little out of character for him but I was happy to make any escape at this point.
We stomped into our boots and I hustled Susan out to the car. Somebody, probably Mr. Wagner, had already brushed all of the windows clear of snow. “You are an evil person,” I told a laughing Susan as I opened the door for her. I had to chuckle, myself; it was a pretty funny story, even if there was nobody I’d dare tell it.
The car took most of the drive to warm up, and I could see Susan was a little cold by the time we got to the apartment. After letting her out of the car, I stopped her for a quick kiss. “I enjoyed the night; I’m looking forward to seeing you Monday.”
“I’m looking forward to more than that,” she giggled, and hurried up the steps and in the front door.
I spent the afternoon reflecting on what I’d learned from her visit, and the lengthening list of mistakes I needed to try not to repeat. “She’s a nice girl, but would you take her home to your parents?” Mr. Wagner asked me out of the blue, mid-afternoon, and that was the last he said on the subject.
Alexandra was the girl I wanted to take home to my parents, and if Susan wasn’t that kind of girl, I was pretty sure it was my fault — but I wasn’t going to tell him any of that.
That night I undressed for bed and looked down at my hardening cock. I fancied I could still smell Susan, and it hardened a bit more. Thinking about her prompted me to fist myself, but it didn’t feel right. After the previous night, I wasn’t in the mood for substitutes. I settled under the covers, still hard, and hoped for pleasant dreams.
November 2010
I didn’t remember drifting off, but I realized the office was quiet except for soft breathing. The familiar tangle of glistening spun silk hovered above me in my mind’s eye, and I opened my eyes to find Angel crouched over me, looking intently into my face from mere inches away.
She was completely naked, covered with sweat and feminine nectar, and exuded a musk that completely overwhelmed her usual perfume. Her hair hung in disarray around our faces like a curtain, shielding us from the rest of the world. We kissed without saying a word, the sort of deep lip lock that stole your breath away without being aggressive.
“I missed you,” I told her when I could speak again, and watched the smile spread across her face. “How were the girls?”
“Needy,” she replied a touch unevenly. “You know, women can cum a lot more often than men.” I reflected on what that meant to somebody who climaxed every time her partner did. “I swear two of them were multi-orgasmic,” Angel continued, “but it wasn’t — satisfying. I missed you, too.” Her hand drifted to my fly. “I missed having you inside me.”
My cock was obligingly erect by the time her fingers clasped it. Somehow we managed to work my trousers down my legs without dislodging Angel or pulling a muscle. Sighing happily, she settled herself on my man-root until I was completely encased in her slick satin folds, and began massaging me with her cunt.
It was a virtuoso demonstration of muscular control, but largely wasted on her audience. I gazed up at her toned body and reached out first to cup and caress her breasts, and then to pull her down against me. Angel was breathing heavily, mirroring my own arousal.
“Do I excite you?” she breathed in my ear.
I smiled into the fall of her hair. “You know you do.” A roll of my hips emphasized the degree of my excitement. “I spent too much of today dreaming of tapping this tight little body.”
“I’m always wet for you,” Angel admitted. “Cum in me, please — I need you now!”
Not for the first time, the bittersweet thought that she told no less than the truth, and that the most beautiful creature in the world belonged to me, absolutely, got my rocks off. Angel bit her lip and convulsed atop me as she achieved her own release.
After a moment, Angel tensed to slide down and clean me, but I held her in place. “Leave me inside, tonight,” I told her. “Just stay; we need to talk.”
She looked closely at me, absently sweeping her hair over one shoulder, and untensed. “Is everything okay, Boss?”
The feel of her still clutching my organ, the weight of her breasts again my chest, and the soft breath in my ear were far better than just okay. There was something to be said for being old enough to step off the physical rut treadmill once in a while; I hadn’t let myself wallow in intimate contact like this for over seven years, not since…
“Boss?”
I refused to let myself get sidetracked now by memories of someone, something, who was dead and gone past all hope of recovery. I’d just push through it like I always did. “Sorry, a stray thought. I wanted to talk with you about Rose Cunningham.”
“Rose,” Angel breathed, and it was her turn to take on a distracted expression.
If trying to describe my ability was difficult, this was nightmarish. Angel was a creature of the night and my creation, and had no direct memories of a person she’d never “met.” She had intellectual knowledge of Angela’s memories from before she’d been “born,” but nothing more recent. Somehow, she had the ability to pick through Angela’s mind — sort of like asking a friend a question, without the friend remembering the conversation — but I was always skittish about asking her to exercise it. I didn’t know what might happen if something “leaked,” and I couldn’t bear the thought of risking either of the two women in the body riding mine.
“Good-looking redhead, almost as hot as me, short hair?” she asked me.
“Hair’s grown out some, and almost as hot,” I confirmed. We exchanged looks of shared amusement. “That’s her. She lives near Angela, and seems to have figured out Angela isn’t really going to the University when she claims she is. What do I need to know? Start with the old stuff first.”
“They met at high school; BFF.” Angel laughed at my quizzical expression and spelled it out: “Best Friends Forever. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard that one before.” She shrugged. “They fell out of contact after graduating; Angela went into the service and Rose went through college. She got a job with a big firm in Saint Louis. There’s an older brother who lives in California, and her parents relocated to North Carolina a few years back.”
After a pause, Angel added, “I think she’s kind of kinky.”
That surprised me on several levels. “You think, or Angela thinks? And why?”
Her response was a short sultry laugh. “I strongly suspect; Angela wasn’t sure. The mean girls called her ‘Rose Cunnilingus’ and ‘Rose Cummingham’, but high school girls will hang a slur on somebody at the drop of a hat. I’m pretty sure she hit on Angela once, in senior year.” We both felt my cock twitch, which prompted another smile from Angel. “Not exactly academic interest, Boss!”
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