<<<<<Orphan Annie's 6th Adventure>>>>>
Larry found out about Norman. Well, yes, I told him, but
only after he really got insistent about why I didn't answer my
phone all that weekend (come to think of it, Norman had unplugged
his phone, too...). He was real upset, not that I'd promised him
fidelity but certainly I could understand where his hurt
expectations had come from. So I invited him over for dinner and
a talk, and perhaps a pityfuck.
I selected a satin slipdress--you know, tailored, spaghetti
straps, trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too far into
the cleavage. I picked up some fresh fish and vegies and put on
a really nice table and candlelight, but he wasn't interested.
Poor guy was really hurting, I could see it in his face. After
all we had together, etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell
he just never believed that the whole situation was merely a day-
to-day thing. Funny how guys never complain about who you've
seen before, but they really get hurt when you see someone later!
When I explained that I hadn't really given him up, just allowed
someone else in, he seemed to brighten a bit and his appetite
began to come back.
So I poured us a little more wine and let him talk. His
work had been going better, and he'd wanted to share it with me,
and here I'd gone off for a weekend with a year-old reject.
Again, I patiently explained how there'd been no long term
promises, just mutual enjoyment. We finished desert, I poured
some brandy, and we retired to the living room sofa. He was much
more relaxed, and actually began to ask after me (other than
regarding Norman, of course). I sketched out current
projects...nothing he didn't already know about, but they seemed
to amuse him. But conversation about him was really short: How
was work? Ok. What about his spare time? Nothing special. Was
he going out with anyone else? No, of course not. Did he have
any trips planned? No, now that I wouldn't go along, he'd
stopped fantasying about them. Well, where had he wanted us to
go? Now he brightened and began to recite a series of rather
detailed itineraries he'd thought through. A bit TOO detailed,
in that EVERYthing was planned, but surely they were all very
romantic ideas for weekends or longer. When I said I'd go along
as things permitted he began to get excited again.
He brought out some pictures he'd clipped, and I moved over
next to him to see them. He did have a great imagination, and
his enthusiasm was now really showing. When I reached over to
point out something in his books, I didn't mind at all letting my
hand linger in his lap. He didn't grab for me right away, but
did shift over to be right next to me.
I poured a little more brandy and the evening drew on. We
began to plan a trip, selecting a long weekend and picking daily
destinations. Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put
his arm around me. I could feel him checking for the (non-
existent) bra strap and panty line. Just as we finished I got up
to get more brandy, and when I came back I sat with my back
against the far armrest of the couch and beckoned to Larry. He
scooted over and put his arm across my waist. I sipped my
brandy, gave him his, and asked him if he wanted to stay the
night. I swear he almost dropped his snifter, and then he
smiled; he leaned over and kissed me, and I put an arm around his
shoulders.
When he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his, holding
one hand in his lap while I reached over to put his snifter
aside. I had to really stretch my arm and chest to reach, and
I'm sure he stared closely at the swelling beneath the slip's
bodice. When I turned back I reached up to pull him down and he
pivoted his legs onto the sofa as he lounged beside me.
He still seemed so unsure, though. I stroked his head, and
kissed his lips, but he was hesitant. I took his hand from my
waist and moved it up to my breast, where I held it tight. His
hand, massive as always, was as warm and gentle as before. As he
kissed my neck I pulled my head back and just enjoyed all the
sensations. He soon had his hand inside the dress and then he
slipped the straps off my shoulders. He was getting the idea!
Time to find a little bare skin on this guy, too!
I rolled sideways, so he could get onto the sofa better,
then began working on his buttons, literal and figurative. I
would undo a few then reach down between his legs for a good grab
as I kissed him deeply. Soon, his shirt was off and his pants
were open. It wasn't long before his hand was off my breast and
was sliding up my leg under the dress. I lifted my hips and he
just pulled it off over my head as I sat up. We then went to
work on the rest of his clothes and when they were off I took him
to the bedroom.
The sheets were cold but we had them warm soon enough.
There was a lot of exploring we did, sliding our legs over each
other, tongues in ears, nibbles on necks, fingers on genitals. I
took him on my side, and I could see him sigh as he slid into me.
Right away there wasn't the usual vigorous pumping, just sort of
a slow and gentle massage of all my innards. I ran my hands over
his chest, behind me to grab his balls, back up through his hair,
and all the time there was this gentle warmth suffusing through
me. I was tightening down but not yet near explosion.
Then he rolled me over onto my back and began to pump more
quickly. He put his legs outside mine and the pressures changed.
Next, he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I began
to really pump back. When he came it wasn't for long but it was
powerful, almost like a firehose deep inside. I shivered, then
shuddered, and then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming orgasm
that left me breathless.
With the exhaustion that brought, and the brandy, I soon
fell asleep. Larry was there, gently again in the morning, and
we repeated the performance until the sun was at zenith. He left
a little more confident of himself and I lingered in bed, assured
the attentions of two wonderful men. Can life be sweeter?