Second Chair

by neff trebor

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Coercion, Heterosexual, Wimp Husband, Cuckold, Wife Watching, Humiliation, Interracial, White Couple, Black Male, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Anna and her husband are musicians. She is hired to play background music at a party. She hears something she shouldn't. Her husband thinks she should investigate further. Reluctantly she is brought into the intrigue and is caught. Now she has to try to extracate heself and her husband. Her only resource for bargaining is her mouth.

Anna Maria Munson was disgusted. "This is obscene." She said to herself. Lots of things are considered obscene. Pictures of people's private parts on a signboard or painted on the side of a ten-story building are obscene. Pictures taken unknowingly of a girl by her boyfriend and posted on the internet or sent through his cell phone to his friends is obscene.

Anna was led through the hallway to the library. She had been hired by Donnie Battle to play background music at a party. He was an ex-NFL tight end. He had injured a knee, somehow, and had been unwillingly retired. Fortunately for him, he had been such a high first round draft pick. He had been given a huge contract over several years that still had to be paid. It was easy to see as she clip-clopped down the honed limestone hall behind the butler that this was a home owned by one of the upper 1% aristocracy of the country.

The house was sitting back about 200 feet from the tree-lined country road. The house was built like a compound. It was a square "doughnut: with a huge clearstory in the middle. The entrance was carved out by cutting out part of one corner of the building, so the main entrance was under the overhang of the upper story. Just within the main double doors, there were matching symmetrical curved stairs going up to the upper floor. It was a half flight to the upper floor, and a half flight down to the upper floor.

The lower floor had a series of rooms for storage of exterior activity items. There was space for a Porsche, a corvette, A 1913 Duisenberg, and a number of motorcycles. A 1913 Harley and Henderson were the most noticeable.

Other rooms had more cars up on lifts being restored or under repair. They were working on the 6-cylinder aluminum engine block and cylinder heads for the 911GT1. They had removed the heads and were installing a different one with 2 intake and 3 exhaust valves per cylinder. They were changing the 2 exhaust gas turbo chargers for bigger ones. They were putting in larger gears to run the dry sump.

The main floor had a living room, formal and informal dining area, a small residential scale kitchen and a larger commercial kitchen, pantry for fresh foods, pantry for canned food, a room for dishes and glasses, a game room, media room, a pool room, and a library. The library had shelving up to the 12'-0" ceiling on all walls. On one end there was a baby grand piano. This was the area she was normally set up to play in. Tonight however, there were going to be more guests so she would be playing in the three story courtyard. The main floor was actually on the lowest level, where the cars were kept. There was about a 10'-0" walkway around the edge that was on the main level, and also on the floor above. The top story had a series of bedrooms with their own bathroom, walk-in closets and seating areas.

To Anna, this house was the epitome of obscenity. The clearstory above the second floor had windows above and a retractable skylight. This was her definition of obscene.

Workers were bringing the baby grand down the elevator to set up next to where she would be playing. She had come early to make sure she was comfortable with the arrangements and there were no surprises.

"Welcome! Welcome to my humble little cottage." She heard a booming voice behind her. She turned. It was Donnie Battle. Every time she met him, she could not get over how big he was. He had played for ten years and had now been out of the NFL for another ten, but he looked like he could still play. There was no fat on him. His daily runs and hours on the weights kept him in shape. It was his ego more than anything that kept him looking the way he was. He had refused to accept that he could no longer play. He must have kept thinking that he might get another call any day, and he better be ready.

Donnie smiled and kept eye contact with her. He didn't want to let on his inner lecherous instincts. He was always enamored with this middle aged woman. She had a sort of Dana Delaney sort of face; not mesmerizing yet in a strange way, intriguing and compelling. She was not your typical stunning looker like he was used to seeing. She was not, at least at first glance, the typical NFL Cheerleader type.

She turned and extended her hand to greet him. Her long red hair was in a French braid. If it had not been pulled so tightly and braided, it would have been curly. The way it was, the long braid hung down her back; almost to her waist. Her wire rimmed glasses gave her a studious look that seemed to match the violin she was testing. She seemed to be dressed typically for her second chair position at the Kansas City Philharmonic.

He knew she must have had high heeled boots on. He had recognized the sound. Her floor-length dress had a strip of green the width of her Décolletage front to the floor. The sides of the button front dress were black, which only tended to make her already athletically trim body even leaner. She looked like a woman half of her forty years. Her summers of running the back county roads had kept her trim long after she had run out of her college eligibility.

Donnie took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he raised it and kissed it. Anna was flattered and a little embarrassed. He always did that and it made her a little uncomfortable. She was married. "Is he flirting with me or is this just how he greets women all the time?" she wondered. "How am I supposed to respond?" she wondered. Anna was being well paid for her time.

She didn't want to insult him, and she was reluctant to encourage him if he was interested in her. It was always a delicate balance with beautiful women. It was a struggle she had tried to handle ever since she had changed from an awkward gangly runner in college to a late blooming well toned well defined grown woman. She had been homely so long as she grew up, that it was a struggle to deal with her new found beauty in her late college years.

Although she had become a late bloomer in beauty, she had been an even more naïve person to style and taste. She had married her first chair partner in the Philharmonic after being there for over a year. Joe Don Munson was a good twenty years older than she. He had coached her on the fine details of sophistication after she had been selected for the orchestra. He had groomed her on her hair, make-up and dresses because of so many formal events they had to dress for. He had grown to be a little bit of a Svengali the longer they were married. At first she was intrigued and flattered with his clothing selections. Lately, he seemed to develop more of a flare for clothing a little more scandalous.

Anna stayed in the library for an hour or so while the men moved the piano. She fine-tuned her violin and looked at her list of music she planned on playing. She was going to use some formal tunes she was familiar with from the philharmonic. Because Donnie was black, she was going to include a number of jazz pieces from Stephane Grapelli, Paidassi / Wagschal and a few others.

She could hear the guests starting to arrive. She knew Donnie wanted her next to him when they arrived, so she put her violin down and met him at the front door. Donnie introduced her to the guests as they arrived. Anna escorted them into the courtyard and showed them where the drinks and hors d'oeuvres were. Once she had enough guests, she went to stand by the piano. The piano player from the philharmonic had just arrived. They introduced themselves and started playing. It wasn't a concert; it was just background music that Donnie liked to have rather than turning on the sound system.

They played for about 45 minutes, and then would take about a 15 minute break. The couple would get a snack, use the bathroom and circulate to meet the guests. Most of the men would make subtle advances toward her. It was a difficult balance of being nice but trying to not encourage them. As the night went on, she spent more and more of her time adjusting her make-up in the bathroom. It was always difficult to know the most diplomatic way to handle the flirting. She had such a shy naïve manner of smiling that it was more captivating than the overt giggling and hanging on that most of the younger girls displayed.

Anna had retreated to the half bath behind the small kitchen to re-do her lipstick and check her hair. The house was an old stone mansion which had probably been built 150 years ago. There were fireplaces in almost every major room. Heating ducts had fed off of the fireplaces, and steam radiators to supplement the other rooms.

The half bath that Anna was standing in had been a renovation. It got its heat from the kitchen as an afterthought during the remodeling. Anna did not mean to be spying, but she realized she could hear parts of the conversation from that room; not all of it.

"That violin player is a goddess" came faintly through the vent. She could hardly make it out, but her face flushed. There was more, but it was hard to hear. Out of childish curiosity, Anna knelt down and unzipped her high heeled boots. She quietly pulled up her dress and climbed up on the vanity to see if she could hear better.

"I would have paid twice the amount she asked for her to be here" she heard somebody say. It had to have been Donnie. "Oh, fuck; I should have asked for more" she thought through gritted teeth.

"You guys are going to have to work a little faster. We have another order to ship pretty soon. Maybe you need to start working a little later; nights if you have to. Don't forget to bring those dogs over. We need to check everything up before the bottoms are welded on. We don't want some home security dogs finding anything."

Anna froze. "What the fuck were they doing?" she wondered. Her fingers were numb and she could barely get down without falling. She was so stunned she sat down on the toilet to calm her nerves. Anna was afraid to come out. She must have used up most of her break sitting there.

Pretty soon, she heard a polite knock on the door. It was Donnie, asking; "Anna, hon, are you in there? The piano player is looking for you." Anna flushed the toilet and turned on the sink; a little too fast maybe. "I'll be right out." She said.

"I must have had some bad sushi or shrimp hors d'oeuvres" she said as she tried to slide nervously past him. Donnie followed her back to the courtyard. Anna still struggled to collect herself as she picked up the violin. She was too upset to play. She put the violin down and whispered something to the piano player. She readjusted the microphones around their equipment.


Anna began to sing. It was easier than the violin. She started with "Summertime." Donnie was stunned. This woman was not only beautiful; she could play the violin and sing like Lena Horn.


Anna was nervous to the extent of being almost paralyzed. It was easier to sing; belt it out; release her pressure. It was a modified way to scream. Her song started slowly; softly and built to a volume that could blow out the windows. "What the fuck do we have here?" Donnie thought as he sat down to absorb it all.


Nobody was talking now. They had all turned to listen. It was no longer a cocktail party. They were in the middle of a concert. When it was over, the place exploded. There was cheering, clapping and whistles.


Anna had calmed down by now. She had managed to release most of her tension. She stood there, neither smiling nor showing any other emotion. It was like crawling out of a fruit cellar after a tornado; wondering how everything was different.


"That was fucking incredible. Excuse my language." Donnie came up and gripped one of her hands with both of his. He still didn't know her well enough to hug her.


Anna went back into "host" mode. She pulled down an emotional curtain in her mind and was able to put on her front of being graceful, sociable and diplomatic. Her mind was still screaming with the thoughts she had recently absorbed.


The rest of the night went without incident. Anna refused to go back into the same bathroom. Instead she found another that was quite a distance from the other one she was in. She did not want anybody to back track in their mind that she had been so near the kitchen where Donnie had been discussing business with some of the other men.


Donnie kissed her on the cheek as he helped her into her car. "Thanks so much for the entertainment tonight. You were fucking fantastic." He said as he handed her an envelope. Her drive home was a bit of a blur.


When she got home, she threw her purse and keys on the side stand next to the door. She sat down and unzipped her boots. It was like coming out of a near car wreck unscathed. Your adrenaline kicks in at the time, but later after you're out of it, you start shaking.


"How was your evening, honey?" her husband, Joe said as he came down the stairs in his warm-ups, socks and t-shirt. He had been sleeping but heard her come in. He wandered over to the dining table she was sitting beside. He saw the envelope sticking out of her purse. Inquisitively, he pulled it out and opened it.


Joe Don's mouth dropped open. Her normal charge for the evening was $ 200.00 and she always tried to get it first. The envelope had twenty 100 dollar bills in it; crisp, never bent $100's. "What the fuck did you do to get this?" he stammered.


Surprised, Anna looked up. "What happened?" she wondered. She saw all the bills. "Oh, fuck," she thought. "Did Donnie know what she heard" she wondered. "He must have liked my singing tonight." She said.


"I thought you said you would never sing again." Joe Don answered.


"Joe, something happened tonight. I'm not sure what to make of it, and don't know what to do about it." She said with her head resting on her hands at the edge of the table.


Anna told her husband what she thought she heard through the register. Joe Don wasn't sure he heard correctly. "Maybe she was mistaken," he thought. On the other hand, maybe she was right.


"You need to see what you can find out about it a little more," he said. "How can I do that? I don't want to have anything to do with them. I won't go near that place," she said.


"You've got to. You have no choice. We can't let something like this go by. We don't know enough to call the police. What if you're wrong and he is arrested for nothing. We need to find out more."


"Joe Don, he is already unusually nice to me. I don't know if it's me or he is just a horny black man. I can't do anything to lead him on. I won't do it." She said, almost sobbing.


"He's given you ten times your usual fee. You don't know what it means. You are one good fucking singer. You don't know if he wants to fuck you or just likes your music. You need to find out."


Anna undressed and went to bed, but couldn't sleep. She struggled all night about what to do. Her husband wasn't going to let this drop. He pestered her all morning to do something.


Anna got out his business card and dialed Donnie's number. "Donnie; High; this is Anna, Anna Marie Munson. I was at your house last night. I didn't look at the envelope until I got home last night. I don't know if you made a mistake or meant to actually give me this much." She said. There was a long pause while he answered.


"Well thank you so much. I have practice today until 3:00. Could I take you out for a drink or coffee after that? There are some nice places in Mid-Town my husband has told me about. I don't get out much. Maybe we could get a snack during happy hour?" she said. Anna's stomach was roiling. She managed to put on a pleasant front.


Donnie was ecstatic to hear from her. He hadn't counted on it. He felt she was well worth what he gave her because of the additional surprise of her singing ability. "Well, I'll meet you on one condition." He said.


"What's that?" she asked, relieved that maybe there was a way out if his request was unreasonable.


"I absolutely want to see you in that gorgeous dress again. I am in love with it." Reluctantly Anna accepted. She was hoping there would have been a way out. Her husband would not have let her out because of a request like that.


"Can I come pick you up or do you just want to meet me at Guinevere's?" he asked. "I'll just meet you there." She answered. "What the fuck have I done?" she wondered as she closed her cell phone.


Anna weaved her little 1966 bug through the beginning rush hour traffic to the Garment District. It was "First Friday" night. The streets would be packed. Parking would be hard to find. The first Friday of the month, all the art galleries would be open very late. All of them would be serving wine, cheese and hors d'oeuvres. Kansas City was full of pigs. They knew nothing of art, but would flood the streets at the thought of free food. They must have all met somewhere or red a dress code website that said to wear nothing but short-short shorts and low cut blouses. Dye your hair blonde. It was either that or you could use a mulligan to wear a Kansas City Chiefs shirt. You could also be considered "conforming" if you wore a Chief's shirt that just covered your crotch and your shorts didn't show.


Anna was easy to spot when she got to Guinevere's. Donnie was standing at the curb. She pulled up to say she had to find a parking spot. Donnie told her to get out. He took a ticket from the valet and let him take care of it. Anna was guarded as he walked her in. "How am I supposed to act?" she wondered. She didn't know how civil to be or how he was going to take everything.


"You look fucking beautiful." He said as he pulled the chair out for her. "This is not how a man talks to a woman he is not trying to fuck." She told herself. "Thank you." She said. Her natural shyness and introvert personality seemed to kick in. To Donnie, this was an even bigger turn on. He was used to the cheerleader type; with the bleached blond hair, low cut dress, the silicone implants and "fuck me now shoes." This woman was going to be the ultimate challenge. She was older and married; happily married. Every negative aspect of her became even more of a turn-on.


"How did you ever get started; playing for the philharmonic?" he asked. Anna went over her background; running at K.U.; learning to sing with her father when he performed at nightclubs; learning to play the piano and violin. She talked wistfully about her struggles growing up as a scrawny and plain woman.


She asked Donnie about how he started playing football; how it felt to get hurt and be forced to retire. They had many things in common; lots of unrealized dreams; lots of partial success. For a while, Anna was able to suspend her apprehension of him and the conversation she had overheard, standing on the vanity with her ear against the heat register. She almost forgot why she was there. It was a nice respite from all of life's tensions; watching all the couples walking by and hopping from one gallery to another.


"We're done here aren't we?" Anna smiled. "Let's go see what all the commotion is about. I've never been to "First Friday before." Donnie said as he pulled her chair out. It was a "matter of fact" kind of thing. He didn't wait for an answer. She wasn't allowed to say: "I'd love to, but I need to get home. Maybe some other time?" She didn't get to say that. She gave a faint, helpless smile and stood. He took her arm and walked out with her into the fading evening light.


They walked like the others; darting in and out of the many galleries, laughing and sometimes outraged at what was being exhibited. Donnie put a WWII helmet on her and took her picture. The helmet had been cut with a plasma cutter into an almost lace pattern of designs. Anna was able to lose herself in the moment; posing seductively with it. He had lifted her up onto some large packing boxes. He had unbuttoned her button front dress from the hem to mid thigh. He had posed her; crossing her legs so she had her arms up holding the helmet and her beautiful bare legs showed. It was a salacious combination; she had her almost knee-high lizard skin high heel boots; her bare legs and her arms up holding her helmet. She had a faint smile; amused at the somewhat innocent picture she was posing for. A number of others passing by stopped and begged her to wait while they took more pictures with their cell phones.


When he helped her down off of the crates, she pulled the hem up to re-button it. "Leave it; just for tonight, please?" he begged her. "You've got to find a way to get to him." She remembered her husband's haunting remarks. Reluctantly, she let it go. "What the fuck," she thought. "I'm covered more than anybody else." She decided to let it go for now. It was getting more and more evident, however, that he was developing more of a personal interest in her than just sharing time with somebody who had been a casual guest in his house.


They walked out of another gallery and walked past "Gabriella's." It was an elegant woman's store. There were no prices on the clothes. All the walls were black. Each dress in the window was spotlighted. The lengths of the dresses were outlandish. "Nobody could wear something like that" she told herself. She felt Donnie's hand turn her. She looked up at him as he guided her in.


The woman who came over to wait on them was immaculately tailored. She was the epitome of everything on sale. Anna could tell instantly that the woman had recognized Donnie. "Welcome Mr. Battle. I'm sure your girlfriend is going to look spectacular in some of these dresses. Please have a seat.


Anna's face flushed when she was referred to as his girlfriend. He did not correct the woman. In fact, he seemed flattered that she had made the connection. The woman extended her hand to Anna and raised her from the couch they were on. She turned Anna in a slow pirouette; looking analytically at her.


The woman went to a rack. "You are either a size zero or a one. Aren't you?" she said without looking up for confirmation. "I think I'm a 1 or a 2, depending on the manufacturer." She said; somewhat embarrassed.


The woman came back with a black dress. It was long. "Try this on." she said as she guided Anna to a dressing room. The room was small. The door was almost non-existent. It covered her middle areas. Donnie could see her face and top of her shoulders. He could see her from mid-thigh to her feet. It was going to be a strip-show.


Reluctantly, Anna held it up for inspection. "Oh, fuck!" she said to herself as she turned it. It had no back. It had no front. "I can't wear a bra or panties with this thing." She thought. She struggled with her emotions. "You've got to get to him." She heard her husband in the back of her mind.


Reluctantly she looked nervously out over the skimpy door, watching Donnie as she removed her clothes. She kept her boots on. She slipped the dress over her head. She turned to look at herself in the mirror.


If it weren't for the tight ¾ length sleeves, she would be naked. The dress was plenty long enough. The back was open. As she turned, she could see half of her butt crack. Facing the mirror, the Décolletage front barely covered her nipples. There was nothing at the top; over her shoulders to hold her dress up. The only thing that kept the dress on her was the tight part of her sleeves over her shoulders. "The length was fantastic" she thought as she looked in the mirror. It barely touched the floor with her high heel shoes.

"It looks good as long as I stand still. I could be a great mannequin as long as I don't move." She told herself. Anna was nervous as she pushed her way through the bi-folding doors. She could see Donnie stand and almost swallow his tongue when he saw her. "You are fucking beautiful." He mouthed to her. She had to admit that if she was at home, with her husband, it would be nice. Here with a man who clearly wanted her, she was uncomfortable.

"Wrap it up." He said without even looking at the price tag. He handed the sales woman his credit card. Anna had seen the price tag when she put it on. "I don't think I can accept this. It's too much money." She mewed almost too softly for him to hear. "You're going to take it and you're going to like it if you want to keep playing at my parties." He said with a big grin. "You've got to find a way to get to him." She remembered.

Anna seemed to pull the blinds down again on her emotions; like a Sunday school teacher who has started to strip for additional income. "Where is this going?" she wondered as he led her through the door and took her arm again.

"Thanks for the dress, but you know I'm a married woman. I just came here to thank you for the nice tip last night. That's all." It was almost a whisper. She didn't look at him. She was divided on how to treat him; not wanting to encourage him, but haunted with what her husband had mandated.

When they got back to Guinevere's, Donnie gave the valet her ticket. "Thank you so much for the dinner. I told you I'd pay. I am going to have to think about this dress. I don't know where I could wear it." She extended her hand to shake his. He ignored her hand. He put his hand under her chin. He levered her head up. They both tipped their heads to meet. He kissed her; slightly and then several times more. He pulled back to wet his lips and leaned in again. Anna's stomach was roiling. Her mind was racing. There was no doubt in her mind what he wanted. This was not just a kiss. It was a kiss, but more importantly it was what it implied that was terrifying her. By kissing him, she knew she was sending him the message. She knew what it meant; "More to come."

If she had turned away at the first peck, it would have meant "friendship." It would have meant: "I like you; you are nice, but I'm not going to fuck you."

Standing there; with her eyes closed and head still tilted up meant much more than tapping their lips together. "I'll call you soon." He said. Thankful for an opportunity to bolt, she turned to get into her car. Donnie went around to shut the door for her.

She had not re-buttoned her dress. She had forgotten while they were walking. She had forgotten when he had kissed her. She had forgotten; until now. When she turned in the seat to place her feet behind the clutch and brake, her dress hung open almost to her crotch. Donnie kneeled down to help her with the seat belt. He stopped her when she tried to fold the dress over her. "Just go." He said as he ogled her.

Anna was so overwhelmed with so many thoughts she didn't know how to respond. She sat there for a few seconds, her bronzed legs sticking out from the end of her dress. She was fucking incredible. Donnie didn't have a fucking chance if she wanted something.

She smiled weakly. "Thanks" she said as she pulled away from the curb. When she got home, she threw her keys and purse on the dining table. She tossed the Gabriella's bag on her husband's lap. "Here's what I did tonight." She said. Joe Don picked up the bag. He opened the box. He held the dress up and looked at it; trying to figure out which was the front and back. He whistled. "What a fucking dress. Go put it on. I can't wait to see it." He said.

Anna didn't even wait or go upstairs. She took her clothes off right there in the living room. Naked, she slipped the dress over her head. She didn't bother to adjust the front. She had one nipple peeking discretely over the top of her Décolletage front. It didn't need to show. It wouldn't have shown if she cared. She wouldn't have worn it that way, but she wanted to impress on her husband what Donnie's intentions were. She turned so Joe Don could see the crack of her ass was visible through the backless garment.

Joe Don whistled. "You are fucking incredible." He said. "You fucking asshole! Can't you see he wants to fuck me?" Her outrage brought him back to reality. She waited expectantly for some justifiable outrage on his part. "Send the fucking dress back" was what she expected to hear.

Joe had a serious expression start to form. "Anna, honey, you are the one who told me what you thought he said. Do you still think what you heard was correct, or a misunderstanding? If you think there was nothing to it, give the dress back and be done with him. If not, shouldn't we be doing something? He asked.

Anna knew what she had heard. Now, maybe her husband doubted her. "I think he's doing something illegal," she replied.

"Then what are you willing to do about it?"

"Joe, you know if I try to get close enough to him to find out what he's doing, I have to get him to trust me. You know what I may have to do." She said; staring intently into his eyes. She was searching; trying to read his mind.

She was searching; trying to bore down into his eyes, looking for the answer: "Are you willing to let me fuck him to find out?" He blinked and looked away. "He's willing to let me." She told herself. She could see it in the way he averted her eyes. Anna's heart sank. She wanted him to tell her to forget it. She wanted him to tell her he loved her so much nothing else mattered. Reluctantly Anna walked up the stairs to their bedroom. She took the dress and hung it up and put a clear plastic gown protector. She zipped it up and put it at the end of her coat rod. She knew she would be using it soon. She wiped a tear from her face as she took off her boots. Went over to the mirrored vanity and sat down naked. She pulled the band out of the bottom of her French braid. She unraveled her braid and began to brush her hair out. It always takes a long time to comb out a French braid.

She wanted her husband to see her. She wanted her husband to see what he was going to be sharing. She was not the tall, gangly girl he had married. She had filled out to an athletic woman with excellent muscle definition. She raised her hand to brush her hair. With her hands up and behind her, her long-stem coral pink nipples seemed to point almost straight up. She pushed her chair back a little. She spread her legs and put the arches of both feet on the edge of the table.

When Joe Don came in, he was stunned to see his wife. She had her legs spread and supported at the edge of the make-up table. He marveled at how her breasts were nicer than when they married. Her long, curly red hair was almost as beautiful and provocative as her naked body. In the Arab world and the Amish world, they made their married women cover their hair. He could see why.

In the Arab world, they made their women cover their mouths because they were considered a sex organ. He could see why. Even without makeup, his beautiful wife's lips were as enticing as the shaved cleft between her raised knees. His mind screamed for a moment at the argument they had had. He did not want his wife lying with another man. This was the best woman in the world and he knew it. He also knew they had to do something to sort out the truth. She was probably the only one who could do it.

He tried to shut out what he had said. He wanted her and didn't want to share. Still, what choice was there?

The next morning, was Saturday. The orchestra had no practice. She knew there was discussion about him calling her. She decided to do something different.

Anna got dressed. She put on some lace thong underwear. She put on an open tip quarter cup bra. She put on her Levi's boot cut jeans over her high heel boots. She put on her oxford cloth button collar long sleeve men's dress shirt. It was tucked into her jeans. She put her hair back in her French braid and put on her black Stetson.

Without announcing herself, she drove down to Donnie's house. There were a number of cars throughout the site. She drove around to the back, where she knew she would have access to the lower level. She flipped out her cell phone and called him.

"High; it's me, Anna.

Oh, I'm right here at your house.

I'm at the back on the lower level.

I'm about to come in, but didn't think I should if you didn't know.

I'm giving you notice to if you have other women here, you can run them out the front door without me seeing them.

Sure; I can wait."

Anna shut the door of her Volkswagen and leaned against the side. She leaned over to check her make-up and hair.

"Hi; I didn't know you were coming. I haven't eaten breakfast yet. Why don't we go somewhere for brunch?" It was Donnie. He had boots on; just like hers. He had jeans on; just like hers. He had no shirt. She had suspected; now confirmed that he had no fat. He was all muscle.

"Why do we have to go out? Can't we eat here?" she asked. "I don't cook and you deserve to be treated like the goddess you are." He answered.

"I still owe you. Let me cook for you." Donnie shrugged. "The dining room's a mess. My guys are trying to get some stuff together. They are working on the lower level. Some of them are using the dining room to order stuff. They should be in the basement, but somehow the internet is not working down there. It's a temporary thing."

"So get back in bed. Its still morning. I will make breakfast and you can have breakfast in bed." Donnie shrugged again. He grabbed her hand and led her up to the small residential kitchen that wasn't being used.

"Go upstairs and get in bed." She said and punched him lightly on the shoulder. He shrugged as he headed up the stair. Anna went to the kitchen and looked in his refrigerator. It was almost bare. Everything was oriented to an athlete in training; no junk food.

Anna boiled some eggs and peeled them. She fried some bacon. She poured some orange juice and made some instant coffee. She made some English muffins and put some butter on them. She put everything on a tray and went up the elevator. She wasn't sure where his room was, but the butler pointed after she asked.

Donnie was in a huge bed with the remote in his hands. He was watching old scouting films. It seemed to be a reflex; always ready to play. Anna walked towards the bed. The length of his room facing outside was all glass. The curtains were open and the view was spectacular.

"Hi, handsome. Breakfast is served. With the tip you gave me the other night, this is part of the service. She smiled shyly. That was what captivated him about her. This forty year old goddess had the self confidence of a fourteen-year old who had no idea how good she looked.

She realized then, that he was probably naked under the sheets. The tray began to jiggle a little; telegraphing her uncertainty. "Well I'm not going to fucking eat alone. Get in here with me." He said as he turned off the T.V and flipped the remote over to the night stand.

Anna started to shake a little. She put the tray down over his lap. It had little fold out legs on the sides. Anna stood on the side of the bed, not sure what to do. Donnie reached over and undid her belt. He popped the brass button on her jeans. He reached for the tab on her zipper. Anna's ears turned red as the cool air hit her under the jeans.

Reluctantly, she turned to sit on the side of the bed. She crossed her legs and pulled up the legs of her jeans. She unzipped them. Her heart was racing as she removed the boots slowly. "I thought I was just serving you breakfast." She whispered softly with her back to him. "I thought that's all we were doing too, but I can't let you get in bed with boots on."

Anna Took her Stetson off and put it on the night stand to her side. She stood and tugged her jeans off. Slowly and deliberately, she folded them, trying to buy time while her mind adjusted to what they were doing.

The tails of the blue shirt hung down enough to hide the thong she was wearing. Anna pulled down her mental shade again. When she turned to face him, she had her shy, little girl personality she could hide behind.

She scooted up against him and sat cross-legged. He took the fork and began feeding him. "What are you going to do the rest of the day?" she asked.

"I can probably get away today. I think the guys can get along without me. If they need me, they can get me on the cell."

"Why don't we just stay here? I'd like to see what you do."

"I don't think you're going to do any of that. It's boring crap. You'd never be interested. I think we should do something else." Anna didn't want to leave. She knew she would have to do something to change his attitude.

"Well, we could go to the museum. There is a new collection from Charles Moore we can see. The Kemper Gallery has a new exhibit of Picasso's. I haven't seen that." She was sitting cross-legged and the shirt tails had ridden up to show her crotch. Donnie wasn't much good at carrying on a conversation with his massive loss of blood.

They were done now. Anna scooted off the bed and took the tray. There was an aluminum table and chairs out on the deck. She slid one of the doors open and set the tray out there. She was struggling with what to do. She thought it might be best to get away from the bed. She had already lost her pants serving breakfast.

Still, she didn't think she wanted to spend the day at the museum. She needed to find a way to stay around the house. Anna was standing and facing the view out over the deck. She felt Donnie behind her. She felt the heat of him. He was standing there in his Calvin Klein cotton briefs. When his arms went around her, she could feel the bulge against her butt crack as she put her hands over his.

She didn't feel she had any way out as she felt his hands start with her top button. She put her hand over his; adding pressure for some sort of psychological expression in her own mind of resistance. Still she knew she couldn't stop him. Her body quivered at the experience of being undressed for the first time in over twenty years by another man.

She was in a mixture of fear, panic, outrage and expectation. She was embarrassed to be soon naked in front of a stranger. She was fearful of what she was going to have to do. She was starting to panic; unsure whether she could go through with it. The hardest part, in hindsight, was picking up the phone that morning. "What the fuck did she expect?" she told herself in mock outrage. Deep down, she knew it would come to this; but had somehow hoped he was more of a gentleman that she expected.

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