Chapter 1B

June 17, 2002
Dear Frank,

After this morning, I can only say that I am hungry for you. Nothing else makes sense. If you were not so reckless, I might say that I was in heaven to make love with you.

I told you that I could not go on as you proposed for Monday. Can't we catch our breath now and learn a little about each other when we are together?

If you come on Monday, I will not go with you except to get a cup of coffee. Come around 10am when I have my regular break and Cathy can cover for me. Also, Charlie and Gillian will be back in day care with us and I have to be more careful about my schedule.

With warm hugs,
Lauren

June 18, 2002
Frank,

You can at least answer the damn emails.

Lauren

June 19, 2002
Frank,

Cathy told me that you came at noon today. I TOLD you that was not a good time. If you come tomorrow, make it at 10am.

Lauren

As often happens when persons of one sex issue non-negotiable demands to their opposites, Lauren assumed that Connors had given in, and that their next meeting would take place on her terms. He did arrive on Tuesday at 10am, but it seems that was the only shared element of their plans.

"Hello," she greeted him from her side of the fence.

She was determined not to leave the school with him until she was sure of what would happen. The heat spell of last week had abated, but she had again sweated through her dress in a fit of nervous perspiration. She was no longer nervous about having an affair; now she was nervous about having the wrong kind of affair.

"Do you read my emails at all?" she asked, taking the offensive immediately.

"Yes, of course, I do," he said, now leaning forward on the fence. "I'm sorry. I should have told you that I didn't think email was a good idea for us. I'm not ignoring you, but really, on the university system, those emails will be around for all eternity and you're inviting someone to run across them sometime."

"You're right about that part," she admitted, somewhat chastened. His argument made sense but the real reason she softened towards him was that he was standing so close. She was hungry for him and she could feel the stirring in her body. "Still, you should have answered, at least to straighten things out between us."

"Yes, dear." He smiled mischievously, and she found herself laughing. For her, at least, the man was too sexy, too charming for her to stay angry with him long. "Why weren't your kids here last week?" he asked.

"Well, ordinarily Charlie and Gillian are here during the summer. They're the right ages. But Chuck's sister and her kids were visiting last week and it was better for all the cousins to be together even if I had to work."

She pointed across the playground.

"That's Charlie, with the blond hair on the swing. And Gillian has the red shorts over there in that group of girls."

"And Sarah?" he asked.

"Sarah's too old for the children's school. She has other activities over most of the summer, and we'll spend a month in Maine any way."

"A month!" he exclaimed in mock concern. "What will I do without you for a month?"

His smile pierced her heart. The memory of his hands warmed her body. Her resistance withered.

"Can you go for coffee?" she asked.

"No," he said flatly. "We have to go to my place so I can undress you."

And so, despite her most serious intentions, Lauren took her ten o'clock break by walking to Connors' house again. Charlie and Gillian were still in the playground, but they did not see their mother leave with this stranger.

As on her previous visits, he let her sit in the rocking chair.

"So you think I was being crude on Saturday morning?"

"I don't know any other word for it. Damn you, you don't know anything about me. I have a sister and two brothers. I have friends. I volunteer at the library. You don't care about any of that. You don't care enough to go out for a cup of coffee with me. How do you expect me to feel?"

"I care about all of those things," he protested "but you can tell me about all of them just as easily when you take your clothes off."

She stood up and took him in her arms and kissed him. She intended this to be a restrained kiss, a kiss that would teach him how to slow things down; but in a few minutes she wanted him too badly and started undressing him. Before she could finish entirely, before she could take off his socks, she began to kiss his abdomen, to run her face against his cock, and to cradle his balls.

"So much for conversation," he taunted her. "Don't you think I have feelings too?"

She could think of no answer, and besides she had already stuffed her mouth with his cock. She worked it as hard as she knew how. She immediately wanted to savor a load of his cum in her mouth.

"Lie down," he told her. She settled onto the familiar rag rug in his front room, and he immediately straddled her chest. His penis was long and hard and purple in front of her face. When she could not reach it with her mouth or tongue, she began to stroke it with her hands, her left hand at the base, and her right hand making quicker grasping strokes on the hood. She waited for him to stiffen and arch his back when she achieved her goal, but she had soon rubbed his velvety surface dry and she had to stop and wet her hand with saliva. Newly moistened, her fingers moved smoothly again. For a moment, his hips continued to move as though he were fucking her cupped hand, and then he bent forward and released a spray of semen on her face.

"Oh, Frank, yes." She opened her mouth but it was too late to catch and swallow more than a few drops. Instead, she lay still as his index finger gently spread each white drop into her skin. He daubed her eyebrows and her shut eyelids and then spread some of the cum across her upper lip. "Yes, do it. Do it! Just like that!" she murmured weakly.

As the scent of him wafted through her, she fainted right there on the floor, the vision of his still hard cock her last conscious perception.

Connors did not record the details of each sexual encounter in his notes. Most of what I know is what the women told me afterwards, checked against the emails, letters, specimens and lab notes I reviewed. Lauren's fainting spell, however, appears prominently in the notebooks along with Connors' hypothesis that there was an interaction between elements in his semen and the pheromone he had custom synthesized for Lauren.

Over the next three weeks Connors confirmed the hypothesis and reproduced the same chemical reaction experimentally. The pheromone that he applied to his own body -- in his pubic hair, the hair on his chest and under his arms -- together with a sample of the semen he recovered in the wash cloth from Lauren's face, combined to produce other volatile compounds not previously present in either. If she swallowed his semen directly, there could be little side reaction. With the semen on her face and the pheromones in his pubic hair only inches away, however, the reaction was significant, and the effect overpowering.

It's not clear why Connors did not go meet Lauren for the rest of that week. Lauren, of course, was more worried about Connors appearing at the school while her younger daughter and her son were in her care at the playground. Despite her worries, and despite the possible danger of discovered emails, Lauren wrote to him eleven times between the Tuesday fainting episode and their eventual meeting on Saturday morning. From her emails, we can also conclude that she called his office at least four times, his home twice, and that she began to leave messages and even her name and return phone number. Her initial caution was entirely overcome by the urgency of her desire.

The emails are also important for what they don't say. She no longer admonished him for not writing, nor did she revive the accusation of him being crude. She no longer voiced opposition to the "threesome." Each day, all day long, she hoped, begged and prayed that he would visit her again. In his lab notebooks, Connors concludes that the pheromone cocktail from his semen that was inadvertently delivered on Tuesday morning had effects that lasted at least several days beyond her fainting.

They met Saturday morning at the Community Sailing Club shed where they rent sailboats down on Lake Champlain. It seems this was their first "date." Lauren was a member of the club and by far the better sailor. In a few minutes she had rigged the little Laser and they were making their way out past the jetty with a small picnic basket in the bottom of the boat.

After they cleared the jetty, with Lauren pointing the boat up the lake and running before a southerly breeze, she could reclaim some of her attention from her sailing and concentrate on Connor. She wore a sundress with a one piece bathing suit underneath. She was hoping to take a dip in the cold water sometime during their sail.

"I got the babysitter until noon," she explained. They had a little more than three hours now to sail, get back to the dock, and then get her home. "Chuck is playing two rounds of golf today."

"I thought you didn't want to mention Chuck?"

"I just want you to know the arrangement. I really shouldn't be late."

"Do you still make love with him?" he asked.

She stared across the lake to the mountains on the New York side. Remarkably, her desire to have sex with her husband had not diminished at all. If she could untangle her guilt and fear from her purely physical desires, she would have guessed that she was, if anything, more receptive to Chuck. It had been less than two weeks since she had first been with Frank in her office. She and Chuck had made love twice in that time, both times on Friday night. Nothing unusual.

"Well? Are you going to answer me?" he pressed.

"Why can't you just let it alone? Being with you is different. I have no way to relate it back to my life. It is what it is."

"You might at least admit you feel something. I want to know. You say you were not even dreaming about having an affair."

"So what?"

"Just my weak male ego. I want to hear that you want me."

"You really should read my emails. They're all about lust. Five times a day I'm writing to you practically begging you to come over to the school and fuck me. It should do your male ego good."

There was a difference, as Lauren clearly perceived, between making love to Chuck and fucking with Connors. She had never before desired a simple fuck, but now, with him, it was irresistible.

"Take off your bathing suit. That would do me a lot of good right now."

"Not here." She gestured to the other boats.

"It will come off right under your dress." He took the tiller from her hand.

She reached under the shoulder of the dress, grasped the strap of her bathing suit and pulled it down her arm. Then she did the same on the other side, freeing her breasts under the dress. The next step was more difficult - to roll the suit down towards her waist without hiking up the dress. She watched him watching her. He held the main sheet and the tiller now and kept the wind in the sail. Her last movement was difficult but quick: with her thumbs in the rolls of the bathing suit at the sides, her hips lifted off the seat and with back resting briefly on the gunwale, she slid the bathing suit down her legs.

She took back the tiller and the main sheet.

"Come over on my side," she said. When he shifted his weight so that they were both to windward, she pulled in the main sheet a little and let the increased pressure on the sail compensate for their weight.

"Will you please touch me now?" she asked. She was already leaning far back in the stern with her legs spread and braced against the bottom. He pulled her dress up and placed his left hand over her mound. Keeping her eyes on a point she had chosen further north, she rocked forward just an inch or two into his hand. Her movement opened her outer lips. She was wet and ready. Again, she thought, zero to sixty in twenty seconds.

"Deeper," she begged.

"No," was his answer. His fingertips danced lightly into her opening and then up to her clit. She tried to squeeze his fingers into her pussy by closing her thighs, but she was losing her balance and had to brace herself against the boat again. Then she pressed her feet on the bottom and lifted her pubic bone into his hands, but he merely lifted his hand to keep the same tantalizing, light pressure.

"Make me come." She nearly shouted at him. There were no boats nearby and anything they said was immediately lost in the wind.

His finger jiggled half an inch further in, but there was no longer any pressure on her mound or her clit. She moaned as he lightly traced her inner lips in a slow continuous circle that offered pleasure but no prospect of release. After a few more minutes, he put his wet finger in her mouth, and she licked it. Then he moved away from her, back to the leeward side of the boat and she let out the main sheet again.

He sat so that he could see her pussy lips and the muscles of her inner thighs as she moved. Then he knelt on the bottom of the boat and placed one of his hands on each of her thighs. For a moment, she considered how best to keep the heading if he went down on her; but then, to her disappointment, he reached into the picnic basket and took out the thermos of coffee.

"I was worried when you fainted back at my place," he changed the subject.

"But you were not worried enough to come see me the next day," she complained.

"You recovered."

"Yes, I was fine. Still you should have called a doctor."

She joked about it, but she wanted to needle him a bit. She remembered fainting dead away on the floor. She hardly ever felt faint and never while lying down. She had awoken to the feel of the warm wash cloth on her face as he wiped off the cum.

"So how do I know you really are a doctor?" she went on. "How do I know you don't work for the CIA? You still haven't told me anything about yourself."

"I've told you some very important things, but I don't know if you were listening. For instance, I told you that I'm not monogamous... like you are. You never said if that would bother you."

"You are a pig sometimes. I'm sorry I said you were crude. Actually, you're a pig."

"You're very brave to say that when you legs are wide open and I've already got you dripping wet."

She tried to close her legs, but he quickly thrust one hand between her thighs and pried them apart. Once his face landed between her thighs, she could not push him away, even after she let go of the tiller and the main sheet, against all her instincts as a sailor.

Ten minutes earlier she had suffered from too light a touch, but now her button screamed under his pounding tongue. He pushed up the hood of her clit and used quick short flicks to make her squirm. Then he reached behind her and pulled her hips forward so his tongue could go deeper. He increased the pressure on her clit until she came, and then he resumed his seat on the other side.

"You sure do get off quick," he said, in a matter of fact way that infuriated her. OK, she thought, he made me come already. That's all I really wanted, wasn't it? Why should I put up with him any more this morning?

With no one on the tiller, the little Laser had quickly gone into irons. She realized that any nearby boats would notice their sail flapping backwards on the mast. It would draw unwanted attention to them in the stern. With a few expert tugs on the tiller, she brought the sail close enough to the wind to get them out of irons, and begin to tack.

"We don't have to go in yet," he said. "It's not ten o'clock yet."

She ignored him and tried to think of the quickest way to tack back in past the jetty.

"Come about, dear."

He knelt in the stern again between her knees and caressed her thighs. She could no longer ignore him.

"I still think you're a pig," she said, fiercely. "How can you make fun of me being monogamous? You think I want to hurt Chuck?"

She tried to push his hand away, but two fingers had already burrowed inside of her, curving upward to the little seed up on the inside.

"I didn't ask you to do anything to hurt your husband. He doesn't have to know that you come every time I put my fingers up you cunt."

Again, she tried to push him away, but then, as the heat and pressure built up within her, she had to brace herself with both hands against the boat. She let go of the tiller and they went into irons again; and the wind pushed them north, away from the dock.

With his fingers still inside her, he started to eat her out again. She lasted less than a minute before she felt the next orgasm roll through her and she began to press her pussy into his face. When it was over, she did not even try to retrieve the main sheet which was now trailing along in the water alongside the boat.

He had now maneuvered her legs over his shoulders which let him pull her further forward on the seat. They made quite a sight in the stern of the boat.

"Why won't you let me take you up the ass?"

"Jesus," she murmured.

"You would like it," he continued. "When you were coming on the floor at my place, I had two fingers up your ass and you were humping on them like there was no tomorrow. I was going to take you up the ass last time, but you fainted."

"Why did you let that stop you?"

She tried to pull his head away from her pussy by grabbing his hair, but she was not strong enough and he was too well entrenched.

"Next time, I'm going to take you. You know that don't you?" His fingers had left her pussy and were pressing against her anus. "But next time I'm gonna wait until you beg me to do it."

The two fingers slipped past the sphincter now, lubricated with her own juice. She twisted her legs, but his mouth was on her again. There was no way to resist once his lips and tongue found their way inside her pussy and so her next orgasm came rumbling through her pelvis, rhythmically squeezing his buried fingers with each spasm.

In all of the files on his hard drive, there is only one email from Connors to Lauren. It is dated that Saturday sometime after the morning they spent sailing.

June 24, 2002

Hello, beautiful.

You were wonderful out on the boat... and you're a great sailor, too.

Your body does the most amazing things. I can't imagine what my life would be like if you were in my bed every night.

Write to me. I want to know what you're thinking. Tell me when you are ready to come back to my place so that I can take you.

Hugs and kisses,
Frank

June 24, 2002

Dear Frank,

There's more to life than sex. I used to know that before I met you. It's time for me to learn that simple truth again.

I don't regret meeting you. I doubt anything like our meeting will ever happen again in my life. I'm sorry we never became friends. This could have ended differently if we had.

Sincerely,
Lauren

As best Lauren can remember, Frank came by the school at ten o'clock two or three times that next week. She could see him standing at the fence by the playground through the glass panel of her office door, but she chose not to go out and speak with him. Good, she thought, that will be the end of it.

She was sorely tempted to speak with him, to let him down easy, but she realized that her own will power was limited, and she would find it hard to resist this sexy man if she came near enough to touch him. As he walked away from the nursery grounds, she felt a tremendous sense of relief. It seemed this wild chapter of her life was over and that she could go back to being with Chuck without the guilty pleasures of her day.

The July Fourth holiday fell on a Tuesday which meant they got a four day weekend. Lauren spent a marvelous time with Chuck and the kids and her sister's family down at Lake George. Her sister, Ellen, took care of all the kids for one whole day which gave Lauren and Chuck a real day of vacation. They spent that day making love and then taking a canoe out to a small island where they could walk and be by themselves. Lauren was in heaven. The attraction of Frank was wearing off. She enjoyed every minute in Chuck's arms.

Then he called her at her office, the first day she was back at school.

"Hey, beautiful. It's me. How are you?"

"I'm doing well. How are you?" she asked warily.

"Life is good," he said. "I'd like to see you. Will you meet me at Peter's Place for coffee some day this week?"

"That's not a good idea. It's over Frank."

"Just for coffee? I'm not that dangerous."

"Yes, you are," she said. "I should know."

She was proud of herself. She was not about to let her guard down.

Her guard was still up when she arrived at the school the next morning and found him waiting for her in the parking lot. She was angry as she stepped out of her van.

"Frank, I told you I don't want to see you anymore."

She took the sail bag full of books from the back seat and turned her back on him. She started to walk towards her office when he tugged at her sleeve. Her resistance began to dissolve into desire at his approach, and by the time he took her hand she wanted to kiss him.