Chapter 7

The next morning when Kayla announced that our workout would be an easy day, Amanda knew why. She shot some daggers my way but wasn’t really mad. She needed an easy day as much as we did. When you go from not working out at all to a nearly hour-long workout five days a week, one of the biggest mistakes you can make is over-training. I kept the self-defense portion light as well, and no one complained. Near the end of our workout, I lost concentration and Kayla took me down with a leg sweep. When I landed, so did she, straddling me. It was a familiar position and it ended with a quick rebuke from an apparently short-tempered Amanda.

“It’s Friday, you hussy. He’s mine today.”

Kayla shot an “oh-oh” look at me, and then looked at her mom, trying to present her best “I’m sorry” face. Amanda reprimanded her, but could only keep a straight face for a moment and burst out laughing. Workout over.

On the walk back to the house, Kayla made herself scarce so I could talk with her mom before starting the day. Smart kid.

“You two have fun last night?” I told her how we lived out fantasies and Amanda definitely liked that idea. She knew that guys have fantasies and that some of them take off on their own. She was certain other men had fantasies about Kayla without either of them knowing it. It was just a part of life.

“You do realize men have fantasies about you, too,” I asked.

“Right,” she responded skeptically.

“They absolutely do. No doubt about it,” I answered, but she was still skeptical. “I admitted to Kayla that I’d had a fantasy about her.”

“You said that and I get it. She’s pretty. It’s normal.”

“Before I had any fantasies about Kayla, I had a couple about you,” I answered, and she gave me a look of disbelief. “You’re pretty. It’s normal,” I responded, but Amanda couldn’t shake the skepticism.

“You had a fantasy about me? Before I came to your room? Before our little wrestling match? I don’t believe you.”

“You misheard. I said fantasies. Plural.” Since we were abreast of the main house, I continued down the driveway. She stopped, but only for an instant before chasing me down and stopping me.

“You fantasized about having sex with me? When was that?” she asked, hungry for details.

“The first time?” I asked and continued down the driveway.

“Wait,” she hollered after me. “When was the first time?”

“Remember Linda’s wedding?” I hollered over my shoulder with a smile on my face.

“That was twenty years ago,” she hollered back louder now as I was getting further away.

“Yup.”

“We were teenagers,” even louder.

“Yup. That yellow dress you wore was killer. Loved that dress. Pick you up at seven,” I hollered and stepped into the house to get my tools. I’d been fantasizing about Amanda a whole lot longer than I had her daughter. We might be up late, I thought.

When I pulled up to the house in a sparkling clean car and with a bouquet, I felt great. I hadn’t been on a real date since the previous week, but other than that it had been a while. Kayla greeted me at the door and gave me the third degree about my intentions, and when I would have her mother home. When I told her I intended to get into her mother’s panties and it would be after her bedtime, she gave up.

It’s amazing how you can get used to someone and then they surprise you. Amanda wore a little black dress that emphasized the word little. It was tantalizingly short, and the neckline was a moderately deep-vee. The material was thin, and it looked like she might be going braless. Whether she was or not, it was enough of a tease to keep me wondering.

The drive into Asheville was fun. Amanda quizzed me about Linda’s wedding, what she’d been wearing and what I did with that. I told her I filed it away and that the two of us had had some good times in the shower together. It was probably a good thing we lived so far away. She couldn’t get over it and had a hard time believing I thought she was hot.

“You were hot then. You’re hot now.” She wasn’t buying it, so I elaborated as we entered the big city and I navigated through traffic.

“Let me explain how the male mind works.”

“I think I know pretty well how the male mind works,” she said.

“Maybe you do but let me tell you anyway, and see if you were on the mark or not.” She nodded and I continued. “Right now, I am thoroughly enjoying how high up the hem of your skirt is riding, and in my head, I’m thanking the designers at Pininfarina for designing the seats like that. I’m having a hard time keeping my mind on the road.”

“I call BS.”

“I’m just telling you the way it is. I’ll keep going. The top of your dress: I don’t think you have a bra on. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. I’ve looked for telltale signs and don’t see any. That’s hot. If it gets cool later on, perhaps your nipples will get a little pokey and I’ll know for sure. If you don’t have a bra on that means two things. First, it means every time you move tonight, the silky texture of your dress is stimulating your tits and to me, that’s free foreplay. I like it, and hope you’re not wearing one. If you’re not, it also means you are ready to go when the evening’s over. The neckline provides me with easy access. When the time comes, I can lean across and slide my hand inside.”

“And that’s exciting to you?”

“That’s giving me a hard-on. The pearl necklace you’re wearing is sexy. I’m glad it’s long and the pearls are close to your breasts. I’m jealous of your pearls. Right now, I want to be one of the pearls on your necklace.”

“You’re making me hot, talking like that. Is that it? It has to be.”

“Not even close. The three-inch heels you’re wearing means you’re going to have difficulty getting out of the car without help. I don’t know if this restaurant has valet parking, but if it does and someone there tries to help you out, I will fend him off for the opportunity. I want to watch you get out of the car, and it will be a twofer for me. One, I’ll get to see your legs from a great vantage, and two, if you’re not wearing a bra, that’s when I’ll find out. You’ll have to lean forward as you get out and that slinky material will pull away from you enough that I’ll be able to tell.”

“My god, do all guys think like this?”

“No one taught me to, so I’d have to guess that we do. I’m not finished. Do you want me to keep going?”

“If you do, I’m going to be too hot to eat. How do you live like that? You must have an erection all the time.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing. Do you want me to tell you about the scent you’re wearing or what the color of lipstick you’ve chosen means to me?”

“I don’t think I could stand it.”

“Then I’ll tell you two things I’m looking forward to, tonight. First, I’m wondering how long it will be until I get to watch you walk away. You’ve been working your legs pretty hard and those heels are really going to accentuate that. That dress is going to put your beautiful little ass on display, and I can’t wait to watch you walk away, knowing that you’ll be walking back.”

“Even though you’ve seen me naked? So, what’s the other thing?” she asked as we pulled past the restaurant and found a spot half a block away.

“No valet parking. I get to help you out, yah!”

“Stop it,” she said laughing.

I walked around to the other side, and when I held my hand out to help her up, she took it with one hand and held her dress close to her so I couldn’t find out if she was braless or not. Curses.

“I’ll tell you that last thing after we walk to our table.” I gave my name and the host led us to our table. I held the seat out for her and as soon as I sat down, I leaned forward and motioned for her to come close.

“Quickly, but casually, look around the room,” I directed and she did. “What did you see?”

“I don’t know. A restaurant.”

“What I saw was every man in the place looking at you. Two of them got in trouble from their wives.” She looked up quickly, and was able to catch a couple of them looking away, but it was enough. She knew I was right.

“They will all find a reason to glance over several times tonight.”

“What you’re saying is very flattering, but I’m not sure how much of it to take with a grain of salt.”

“The only reason I’m giving away the entire guy code manual is so you’ll realize how we see a woman like you. You look like a million bucks. It seems fair that you should feel that way. Would you like me to order some wine?”

We had a nice dinner, and the folks at Bouchon did not disappoint. After dinner and before dessert, Amanda excused herself to use the restroom. I pulled out my phone and used its camera to record the room as she walked away. Sure enough, every guy in the place looked and several of them watched for too long.

We took our time over dessert, but I wanted to go dancing. I didn’t want to close the place. I wanted to set the mood and get back to the house. We walked back to the car, and I helped her slide in, and then joined her.

“Ready for some dancing?” I asked and she nodded. “Before we go, watch this,” I said and played the video for her. I played it twice.

“I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“The guys that watched you let their eyes linger. They didn’t just glance. They watched you for as long as they could get away with it.” The Ferrari gave its throaty growl as I started it and eased into traffic. “I figured out the answer to my question. Wahoo!” I could tell she was trying to figure out what the other question was, but it didn’t take long.

“No, I’m not wearing a bra and every time I move, this dress rubs me. I’m not used to it, but since you mentioned it, I notice every move.”

“So do I. It’s only fair.”

We found parking and made our way inside the crowded dance club. The bar was crowded, so we made our way straight to the dance floor. The music was loud, but the floor was clean and there was room to move. Most of the dancers were kids; not little kids, but kids in their twenties. Some of them could dance but the theme that night was swing, and they were having fun but out of their element. Amanda and I hit it off, and by the third number, people were giving us room. I can dance, but it was Amanda they were watching.

After five or six songs, they played a slow number and she put her lips to my ear and said, “Hey, Goose, you big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” she said, quoting Meg Ryan from Top Gun.”

Of course, I replied, “Show me the way home, honey.”

We’d been inside for less than an hour, had some fun, and were ready to be alone. It was a nice night with a three-quarter moon, so I stowed the Targa top behind the seats for the half-hour ride home. I kept the speed down and the noise with it so we could talk. Amanda had had a great time and we talked about the kids on the dance floor and the songs they played. She said her feet were beginning to hurt, and I suggested that some other night it might be fun to push the furniture back in the great room and turn up the tunes. She liked that.

I handed her my phone, hit the play button once more and she soaked it in. I knew it was a confidence booster.

I passed the driveway and continued up the winding road for another mile until I came to the scenic turnout. I was honestly a bit surprised to find it unoccupied on such a beautiful Friday night, but perhaps it was a bit early. We enjoyed the view and talked for a while, and then I leaned over and kissed her. It was a very nice second-date kiss. I went for second base and confirmed my suspicions. No bra. I gently cupped her breast as we kissed and when we came up for air, I was a bit breathless.

“I am so turned on that I have no words. Nothing clever at all.” She pulled me back to her and we kissed again. She took my hand and pulled it back to her breast. I was acutely aware that third base was well within possibility.

“If I was younger and skinnier,” I said and she rolled her eyes.

“Take me home and take me,” she said, and I started the car. We got back to the house and I parked as close to the front door as possible and carried her inside. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was, but something got first Amanda and then both of us laughing and we weren’t quiet about it.

She kept telling me “Shhh,” but she was the one making all the noise. We’d had a couple of drinks with dinner, but we were definitely acting like a couple of teenagers who had stolen the key to the liquor cabinet and snuck out for the night.

With Amanda still in my arms, I walked into the kitchen and she grabbed a bottle of champagne I had put in the fridge to chill before we left. I walked us to the cabinet, she stretched to reach two flutes and we set out for her room. Once inside, I carried her to the bed and lay her as close to the middle as I could. We’d been laughing the whole time, but when I laid her down and began to stand up, we both suddenly got very serious. She handed me the champagne and glasses, I set them down on the dresser and joined her on the bed.

We’d made love a hundred times, give or take, but this felt new, like a first date. I ran my hand down her leg and cursed my calloused hands for being so rough. I slid one of her shoes off and dropped it on the floor, then squeezed her foot, massaging her heel, where I knew it hurt, then repeated the process on her other foot. I realized as I was working on her body, massaging her, that I was giving her the same day spa treatment I’d given Kayla. It didn’t matter. She loved the attention and it was relaxing for love.

I finally lay on the bed next to her and was surprised with, “So what kind of fantasies did you have about me?”

“That was a long time ago,” I answered, ready to move on with the evening.

“And you forgot?”

“I had quite a few and I didn’t know much at the time. Would you like to hear about one I had earlier this evening?”

“Maybe later. What fantasies did my teenage cousin have about me? Perhaps I can help you live out your fantasies,” she suggested with a bit of mischief.

“If my hazy memory serves me right, they all started with you in that yellow dress. I’m not saying you were in it for long, but that’s how they started.”

“That’s hilarious. What was so special about that yellow dress?”

“The most important thing was that you were wearing it. The second most important thing was that I thought I could get you out of it pretty quickly.”

“You did, did you?”

“In my fantasies. I was pretty sophisticated in my fantasies. Quite the lady’s man.”

“I’ll bet. Was I good?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“You were the best. Even my friend Dave Spiller’s dad’s Playboys couldn’t compare. You were hot.”

“Really? I wish I would have known.”

“What you should know is that nearly twenty years later, you are even hotter and much better in bed than my imagination would allow.”

“Really? And besides that, the bootleg audio tape of me screaming, what are you taking with you back to Mount Pleasant? What will I be doing in your fantasies when you’re home?” She was having way too much fun with this.

“You’ll probably be giving me your best cowgirl impression.”

“You like that, do you? Me on top?”

“Yup.”

“What’s so special about that? Don’t get me wrong, I love to be on top, but what is it about that?”

“Let me think. Perhaps it’s that you do the work or that I get to watch you work or that I have total access to you?”

“I guess that would be pretty good for you.”

“All good, but not the best part of it. Nothing turns me on more than a hungry lover, and with you on top, I get to watch you use me like a hot dildo; you are hungry for my dick. Nothing better than that,” I said.

“Then let me give you something to fantasize about,” she said and pulled her panties off but left her dress on, then threw her leg over me.

She straddled my thighs and fingered her pussy until she was soaked, dipping down onto me. She took her sweet time and gave me what I wanted. She took me down easy and slid up next to me.

“I know you can keep going, but I’ve heard that if you want to make it memorable, don’t dilute it with more. Just this once, tonight,” she said. “Kayla has you tomorrow.” She gave me a gentle massage until I fell asleep.

I’m guessing I got a full night’s sleep, but it didn’t really matter to me. I woke with a start and then felt a hand on my stomach holding me down. There were lips on my dick. I tried to sit up and then asked myself the question, why? It was Saturday morning and Amanda was feeling frisky. She’d said she hadn’t really gone down on me and so that’s what this was. I wasn’t going to argue.

I was going to say something profound like good morning, but choked it back as I took stock of what I felt. There was a hand on my stomach holding me down. There was a hand cupping my balls. Good. And there was at least one hand and maybe two on my dick, traveling up and down with the lips. Holy crap!

I lay back and enjoyed the sensation. Lips sucked on the head of my dick and a tongue swirled around the head. Then coolness, and then the lips were back on me. On the third or fourth time, I realized they were taking turns. Holy crap!

“What’s going on down there,” I finally asked.

A tongue traced the length of my shaft and Amanda said, “Morning practice,” and then the other lips slid down on me.

“I want to see,” I said, straining against the hand.

“Nope,” Kayla said. “Just lay back and enjoy it and when we’re ready we’ll let you play the game.” Lips changed and I guessed it was Kayla sliding down on me.

And then they began a series of experiments or at least it seemed that way. They started by flicking their tongues across just the head of my dick, which was interesting but not something I particularly cared for. Then I felt a hand circling the base of my dick and lips engulfing just the head of my dick, sucking hard. That was pretty nice. They switched to the full mouth experience, sliding all the way down and back up, then lips on the outside, and that was pretty nice, especially when I could feel both of them on me at once.

I had time to think while they were experimenting. I don’t remember anyone getting me off just by giving me head before. It’s just not my thing, and if there’s no chance of cuming because of it, I guess I can just enjoy it for what it is. That might sound strange or like I’m missing out, but I’m pretty happy with my stamina and ability to bounce back like a much younger man. It was a trade-off I was happy with. I thought about both of them being in the same room at the same time, but this seemed different. They had both seen me naked, and obviously, each other naked. They’d both seen me cum and this didn’t seem like it would lead to either one of them cuming. Somehow, that made it okay. My strange ethic was satisfied and I relaxed.

Kayla seemed to be improving her technique, and they got into a quiz game about what do you like better. That seemed like a waste of time since every guy is different, but I played along. I didn’t have any way to tell time, but I’m pretty sure I’d been the subject of their experiment for at least a half hour and maybe longer.

“Ladies, we’re going to have to end this one way or the other. My dick is stretched tight, but I’m probably not going to cum this way. It’s just not me.”

“We’re not done yet,” Kayla said.

“I’m getting pretty frustrated here, so I think you are. I’m all amped up so I need some release pretty soon.”

They talked about it for a few moments. One set of hands left me, bare feet padded to the door and I was left with just one.

“It’s me,” Kayla said. “I know what I want to do.” She continued to stroke me.

“What’s that? How do we start our day,” I asked, somewhat energized by this change.

“My mom told me about how you took her at the guesthouse.”

Great. How many times had I done that? “And?”

“And when you took her from the rear and pretended it was me. I want you to do that.”

“You want to use that position because I practically raped your mom with you in mind?” I couldn’t quite get my mind around this.

“Yes. Except you didn’t rape her. She didn’t complain, did she? She said it was really good. Plus, she said you felt guilty about doing it. Now you can do it the same way and not feel guilty, and my mom knows. Get it?”

Strange logic that I understood. “The same way?” I asked and she agreed. I manhandled her. I bent her over the bed and took her from the rear and I fucked her silly. I was hard to begin with, and the idea of doing this to both to her mom while thinking about her, and then actually doing it to her got me more than a little excited.

Once I was inside her, I started pounding away. I held her shoulders down with my hand and plowed into her, and I probably didn’t last more than a minute or two. When I came, I released all kinds of sexual tension I’d been holding onto since that day with her mom, tension I didn’t even know I had. I’m generally a pretty quiet lover, but not that time. I probably sounded like an animal growling out as I came. When I finished my last thrust into her, I wrapped my arms around her and shoved her up onto the bed, me still inside.

“Holy cow. Is that how you did my mom when you were thinking about me?”

“Pretty much,” I mumbled to her back.

“Damn. I got you cranked up that morning, didn’t I.”

“Seems pretty obvious.”

“Wow. I don’t even know what to do with that,” she said, pretty amazed.

I had begun to catch my breath and rose up on my elbow. “Then let me tell you what you can do with that. I’m just a guy, but you flirted with me very seductively. You did it to get a rise out of me and that’s exactly what you got. I had your mom for release. What if I hadn’t? I know me and I wouldn’t have done anything with you, if your mom was gone and going to be gone for another week, but I don’t think most guys would react that way. I think most guys would be pretty amped up from much less than what you gave me.”

“So, the morale of the story is, be careful?”

“It is, but I want you to understand this. I’m a science teacher, right? Here’s your science lesson for the day. When you flashed your beautiful tits in front of me, it triggered my endocrine system. You’re going to be a doctor, right? You should know this stuff. My adrenal gland started pumping out adrenaline and that jacked up my heart rate and got my breathing going. My testosterone levels skyrocketed and that increased my sense of optimism, stamina, and, get this, aggression. You feel anything aggressive in what I just did to you?”

“Absolutely. You were all over me like an animal.”

“Then there’s phenethylamine, endorphins, and endocannabinoids and they block pain and increase pleasure, and they are like an addictive drug. Finally, a big dose of dopamine is like a motivating drug.”

“So, it’s like you were high on drugs?”

“I was, it’s just that my own endocrine system made those drugs and you don’t need a prescription.”

“Dang.”

“Dang is right. So, if you’re out with a boy and you give him reason to get excited, don’t expect logic to prevail, because he’s going to be all amped up.”

“I never realized I had such powerful tits.”

“Girl, you could do that to a guy with your smile, but a fully clothed wiggle of your cute little butt would do the same. Your body is powerful, but it isn’t more powerful than your mind and you have to use it.”

“No kidding. I had no idea.”

“You did, too, you just didn’t realize it. I did it to you. I unleashed a lot of the same chemicals in you the other night. Not the same, but almost.”

“When you stuck your hand in me when I wasn’t expecting it?”

“How did your body react to that?”

“Oh, man.”

“Tell me.”

“Heavy breathing, increased heart rate, anxious to do something, almost aggressive, it’s just what you said.”

“Yup, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“But you did, and it sure got me fired up for the next day. I get what you’re saying.”

“Good. You want some breakfast?” I asked, changing the subject abruptly. Lesson over.

“Yeah. I think there’s a leftover bratwurst. I’ll have that.”

“Why don’t you have a real breakfast and we’ll go down to your gym. I’ll string a line, set some volleyballs for you so you can practice your hits.”

This intrigued her. “You’ll help me practice hitting?”

“Sure. Unless there’s something else you’d rather do.”

“No, no. That sounds good. I didn’t get any time on the front row at all yesterday. You knew that, though.”

“You said so at dinner. I always hated it when I felt shorted on the hitting line.”

“You play volleyball? Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s been a while. I played in college and then two-man. I’m too short so I didn’t go anywhere with it, but it was fun.”

“You played in college? Did you get a scholarship? That’s incredible.”

“I wish. I was a walk-on, played a couple of seasons, and got cut. I’m not really a setter and I don’t have the height. I can hit just fine but can’t get up to block. You want to hit some or just bump the ball around?” I wanted to do something else with her besides have sex. That’s not really true. I wanted her to do something else with me besides just have sex. It had become a bit too all-consuming for her, and I completely understood that.

We had some pancakes and a couple of eggs, she grabbed two balls and we walked down to the gym with a hammer, nails, line, and a sheet. The ceiling was high enough and there was enough room to run a line across to give her a target. Seven feet four and one-eighth. I’d always thought it was seven feet six but hey, I never played girl’s high school volleyball. I drove a couple of nails, ran some line, and hung the sheet over it. Not perfect, but good enough for practice.

She passed me a ball, I set it and she hammered it. I set the ball maybe a dozen times and she whaled on it. Too easy. I grabbed a couple of target pads and placed them on the other side of the net.

“You pass me the ball, I’ll set you, and when the ball’s in the air, I’ll tell you which pad to spike it to.”

“Target practice, but with the sheet up, I won’t be able to see the pads.”

“Look where I put them. One is on the left side ten-foot line and the other is at the end of the power alley. Do you need to see them, or do you know where they are? How long have you been playing this? The court doesn’t move.” A smile started to grow from this new challenge, and we started.

After each hit, I told her if she was left or right, long or short. She probably hit ten balls at each target and just couldn’t find the target. Then, I gave her one, called the alley and she was rewarded with the sound of the ball smashing into the pad about the same time she landed. That brought a big smile.

“I found it.”

“You found it, all right. I’m going to put the pad back in the same spot. Find it again.”

This time she missed three times before finding it again, and after twenty or so more hits, she had settled into a one in three bullseyes.

“Your turn,” she said. “I’ll set and you hit the target.”

“It’s been too long,” I complained, but I wanted to so we lined up. I passed, she set and I hit wildly. I took a half dozen practice jumps swinging at the air and tried again. A solid hit but long. After five or six hits, I was zeroing in. Then I got in a groove. Pass, set, thud, and the target pad moved. Kayla reset it and I went again. Pass, set, thud. I hit the target four or five times in a row and Kayla was thrilled at that.

“That’s a low net for me. Put it up at eight feet and I’d be lucky to hit the target one time in twenty.”

“Right,” she said skeptically, but I was being honest. She gave me a hug and a kiss and we forgot about volleyball.

“I’ll take down our line if you want to straighten up and we can get out of here,” I said, and began to unhook the makeshift net I’d put up.

Meanwhile, Kayla was busy behind me and I continued to work. When I finished, I turned to see her lying on the Swiss ball trying to grip the bench behind her. Her volleyball shorts were stretched ridiculously tight as she mimicked the position I had bound her mom in previously. I watched silently as she got a grip on the legs of the weight bench and then stretched her feet apart. I didn’t need a heart rate monitor to know mine was racing. She looked about as inviting as I’d ever seen her and she had her clothes on.

“What’s going on,” I asked, as if I didn’t know.

“Like this? Is this where my mom was when I heard her howling at the moon?”

“You two talk about everything?”

“Pretty much. I know this was it.” Unbelievable.

“I can’t believe the details you two share.”

“Help me get my shorts off.”

I thought about it, but it just didn’t seem right. On the one hand, I knew just how good it had been with her mom and I would definitely enjoy it just as much with Kayla, maybe more. On the other hand, something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it just didn’t seem right, somehow.

She inched her way up so she could see me and then wiggled on the ball. She was definitely asking for it. She released the bench and reached down to her shorts, sliding her thumbs under the waist. She played with the top of her shorts and licked her lips.