Chapter 3: Almost

Alicia Ortega had her plans made. She was damned, though, if she’d present them herself. It was the guy’s job to pursue.

When Craig opened the car door for her, she dropped her hint: “Sasha’s in the apartment. We can’t go up there.”

Craig didn’t respond. Instead, he started to drive her home. Then he said, “Well, we could go to my apartment.”

“Yeah.” The car swerved into the other lane. Luckily they were the only car on the street at the time. “Subject to certain conditions that I’m not going to mention until the car is in park by your place.”

“I rent a space in a private-house garage ... And any conditions are accepted.” Well, she thought these conditions would be.

She felt exposed in the garage, though they were probably less likely to be overheard than in the street. She stayed quiet until they were on the sidewalk with nobody around them.

“You stuck something up me last time, didn’t you?” she asked.

“Just my fingers.”

“Well, nothing goes up there. Not your fingers, not something else. And don’t tell me what is shaped to fit.”

“All right.” He was agreeing really readily. “Why should I mention it when it’s already in your mind?”

“And, if we’re going to go to bed,” she continued, “then you let me get ready first. I get bathroom time and put my cell where I’ll hear the alarm before you grab me.”

“What time do you plan to get up in the morning?”

“Eight. I get up at seven Monday, and any later rising messes that up.” Beyond that, she had to take her Pill in the morning. Rising at noon fouled that up.

“And beyond what you’ve said,” he asked, “there’s only the limits you set on what I can do to you?”

“Well, I’m sure there are other limits, but nothing you did the last time.”

The apartment wasn’t as neat as the last time she’d seen it. She glanced into his bedroom, and the real mess was in there. How could you leave a bed unmade? She was carrying the largest purse she owned, and it was jammed. She found her cell and left it on the nightstand.

Inside the john, she relieved herself first. After washing her hands, she removed her shirt and her bra. The bra went on his shower head. It was warm enough so she could scrub off her makeup before putting the shirt back on. It was really a man’s flannel shirt, the heaviest one she owned. She buttoned it up to the neck. Putting the facial cleansing stuff into the purse, she returned to his living room.

“Darling!” Craig said. His eyes went to her boobs. Dammit, they weren’t that large and were certainly firm enough. Guys can tell when you’re not wearing a bra whatever else you do.

Craig by now was topless and in slippers. He looked good like that. She went to his arms, and he cuddled her left breast. The kiss was as arousing as ever. He led her into the bedroom.

In those few minutes, he’d made the bed and turned it back. Both books were off the floor.

He laid her on the bed and knelt beside it. He kissed her, plundered her mouth. Meanwhile, his hands were busy on the buttons of her shirt. He loosened her slacks, but he didn’t push under the waistband.

When he’d spread the shirt wide, he climbed on top of her. They were mouth to mouth and chest to breasts. Just when she had decided that his kisses were the most exciting possible, he showed her a more exciting one.

His chest hair scraped her nipples, and his mouth came down to soothe them. Fire burned in her stomach, and he kissed down to the fire.

He got off the bed, lifted her, and eased her slacks down. From the foot of the bed, he removed her shoes, socks, and slacks. He kissed her navel, tickling her until she squirmed. Then he pulled off her panties. He darted a kiss to her mound, surprisingly light considering his others. Then he tucked her legs under the covers.

“That blouse is going to get even more wrinkled,” he said. She smiled, and he lifted her butt and pushed the shirt off. He helped her half sit, and she removed it completely. When she lay back, he came half over her. His chest was scraping her breast again, and his hand went between her legs.

“Darling,” he said. Then he kissed her. Her mouth was dry, but she felt how wet she was below. Then he ravished her mouth and stroked her vulva. The heat from his skin was nothing compared to the heat that sprang out from her womb. He stroked, and her body tried to move, but his held her down.

The fire burst out within her. Her moan disappeared into his demanding mouth.

He kissed across her face to her neck, but the arousing finger was never still. Then he found the spot on her neck that only he had ever found. He sucked and licked. She felt every one of her muscles tighten.

Then she flew apart, and only his weight kept her on the bed.

He kissed her ear, her forehead. That hadn’t ever been an erogenous zone. He kissed her between her breasts, then he kissed up one to the nipple. The heat built again. As he sucked and stroked, she tensed again. He moved to the other breast. His mouth was there, but it did nothing! She needed just a little more.

“Craig,” she begged. He sucked hard, and at the same moment, he ran the length of his finger across her clit. The fire there exploded.

“Shhh.” He kissed her sore nipple, kissed her navel again, continued down. One hand tossed the covers over her bare torso. Now her upper chest and her lower legs were covered. Her groin had only his head to protect it from the chill air.

He raised her and shoved his arm under her butt. Then his mouth was on her center. His licks were teasing, covering those lips but barely touching her clit.

“Luscious Alicia,” he said, and his warm breath excited her as much as his words. He cupped her left breast and stroked his fingers across the aroused nipple. Then he touched his tongue to her clit, and a spark drove up through her body.

She tensed. He licked again, and she moaned. His licks were exciting as hell, but too far apart to quite bring her over. She wanted to beg, but she could only moan.

All at once, he sucked her clit, he pinched her nipple, and she blew apart.

He kept exciting her, and she couldn’t come down. She writhed on the bed, held only at her hips.

When he relented, she collapsed. She felt the bed shift as he moved and felt him cover her completely. Then she felt, and heard, and saw, nothing.

Craig had to get away. That or rape her violently. Alicia was an arousing sight when standing still fully clothed. Naked, writhing in her ecstasy on his bed, she was almost impossible to resist.

The only thing which got him up was the certainty that she’d never give him the time of day if he succumbed. His trousers helped, too. He couldn’t work the belt buckle and the zipper without thinking, and thinking told him no. He took care of the immediate problem in front of the toilet bowl. Then, erection gone, he pissed. He washed hands and cock, zipped up, and then brushed his teeth. He knew his apartment. With the lights off, he found his way back to the bedroom. Alicia was in the center of the bed, but she didn’t complain about being shifted. He let her have the pillow.

When he climbed in, he scrunched up against her. He had her warm skin against his chest, her soft tit in his right hand, and her naked butt against his clothed, and erect again, cock.

It would be impossible to sleep like that, but a great way to spend the night awake.

Strangely enough, he slept.

He woke to two different ring tones. He got up and silenced his cell. Well, he should wake her, but other priorities beckoned.

He got to the bathroom and pissed. Then he shaved and brushed his teeth with the bathroom door open. He returned to the bedroom and got his glasses. He went to put the coffee on. Then he dug his largest T-shirt out of the drawer.

When her alarm went off again, he bent to kiss her. “Even though you’re in the one place where you fit best, darling Alicia, you wanted to be awake at this time.”

She struggled out of sleep and sat up. That revealed a sight he had only seen a few times.

“What?” To her credit, she did not scream on asking that.

“You’re in my bed. You agreed to that. It’s eight-fifteen. I only have Wheaties for breakfast, but I could make a run to get some take-out. Coffee is perking.”

“Get out,” she said.

“Okay. You might want this.” He dropped the tee on the bed and went out of the room closing the door.

She ran to the bathroom wearing the tee. The sight was arousing, although all the critical areas were -- barely -- covered.

She didn’t say anything when she went back, but she looked to be awake when she appeared in the kitchen doorway fully dressed.

“Want a shower?” he asked.

“I have to get back.” She did take the cup of coffee he offered her, though.

“What do you have scheduled for Sunday? Milk and sugar are on the table.”

“I have to get back and change my clothes,” she said. “Since the alternative is cold cereal, I’ll eat there, too.”

“General Mills will feel abashed. Well, you gave me a shopping list for Anne’s lunch. You can give me another for Alicia’s breakfast.”

“Taking me for granted, are you?”

“Well, since the actuality fell into my lap like manna from heaven, I’m not taking much for granted if I say that it’s a possibility,” he pointed out. “If I’d known it was, I would have made better preparations.”

“You’re awfully flowery in your language first thing in the morning, aren’t you?”

“Well, it’s the morning after a wonderful night.”

“It was a wonderful night for me, too,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m not a morning person. Can you drive me home?”

He got the keys and they walked to the car.

“Look,” she said when they had started. “I’m real sorry. Last night, I got everything I wanted, and you didn’t get anything. Then, this morning, you’re happy as a lark, and I’m all grumpy. It’s just mornings, really. Next time, I’ll take another cup of coffee before I speak. And, yes, I did say ‘next time.’”

“Well that’s not really true. I didn’t get everything I wanted; that I’ll grant. But I got one hell of a lot more than I had any right to expect. I’m a glass-half-full kind of guy, but this glass is more like nine-tenths full. We follow your rules. That’s partly because I wouldn’t get anything unless I did. It’s partly because you’re going to want it when I finally come into you. Did you really get everything you wanted last night?”

The question took her by surprise. She had had her rules followed; she had had pleasure after pleasure. Of course, she had got everything she wanted. Well, really, when she thought about it, before the night was over, before it had gone very far, she had wanted him in her. And she wasn’t going to tell him that. It wasn’t really fair to tell him that. She’d been called a cock tease, but she wasn’t that bad a cock tease.

Luckily, as she was beginning to learn, Craig didn’t insist on an answer to his question when answering made her uncomfortable.

“You know,” he said when he let her off, “if you don’t want to move in, you could still bring a small case to the car and have a change of clothes for meeting Anne.”

And, she could pack her makeup and a nightie and all the stuff that didn’t fit in a purse. Did his comment mean that he didn’t want her to move in? Because she hadn’t said word one about not wanting to move in. Well, it was his place.

She took her Pill, which she had carried to his place and back. She showered and shampooed, and made a healthy breakfast.

“Tell me all about it,” Sasha said. She’d waited her own breakfast, and she sat down across from Al.

“It was wonderful, and then I treated him awful. You know me and mornings.”

“Why do you think I waited to ask? More, girl.”

“Well,” Al said, “all those orgasms I delayed while making out downstairs? He tried to pay them all back.”

“All?”

“He tried. And then we slept together in the same bed, and he kept his pants on. Why didn’t you tell me that sleeping next to a man was so romantic?”

“You never asked, and it’s not the most important part of the package,” Sasha said. “Pants on? Boxers or briefs?”

“Trousers. He must have had something under them, but we didn’t get that far.”

“You didn’t even suck him off?”

“He didn’t ask me to,” Al said. “And he didn’t get that insistent about sex. I do that when the boy wants sex, and I’m not ready.”

“He doesn’t want sex?”

“He wants sex,” she told her, “but he wants me to want it, too.”

What she didn’t say was that she expected him to get what he wanted. She already wanted sex with him; only she wanted her first time to be with a guy who would stay awhile.

She got an e-mail later in the day:

| What does the well equipped kitchen have for breakfast?
| Be warned! Anything you specify, you’ll need to prepare.
| Include ingredients and tools.

She sent him a list, down to salt, pepper, and margarine. He thanked her when he called that night to invite her to a movie.

Mike called Tuesday. Her brother was less careful about scheduling calls when she was free than Craig was, but she was grocery shopping and could put her cart where it wasn’t in anyone’s way.

Mike and Amanda had agreed to start entirely over. Past offenses didn’t count, but any cheating on the marriage vows after the next day -- they were actually going to take the vows over then, in writing -- would positively be the end of it.

“Congratulations, Mike. Make this one last,” she said before ending the call. “If she cheats with you, she’ll cheat on you,” she said after the cell was in her pocket. She’d said it before, and always after Mike had hung up.

Craig called Wednesday. He suggested that they start their date earlier on Friday. They agreed that he’d pick her up at 7:00 and eat after the show.

When he picked her up on Friday, he took her overnight case from her hands at the door. He put it in the trunk. Although the movie wasn’t a romance, he kept his arm around her through the film and squeezed her shoulder occasionally.

The restaurant was Korean, and the food fairly spicy. Their conversation was bland and intermittent. She found herself thinking of how they were going to end the evening and blushing. When she did, Craig would look at her knowingly.

When he parked his car in the garage, he popped the trunk immediately. He took the case and led her to his building and upstairs. He set the case down and took her face in his hands for a kiss. Considering what she’d been imagining and remembering, it was a very mild kiss.

“Let’s get our coats off,” he said. When he’d hung them in the closet, they had another kiss. Although she could feel his erection pressing into her, he kept his mouth closed. “I’ve cleaned out the bottom shelf in the medicine cabinet and the bottom drawer in the dresser for you.”

At that hint, she grabbed her case and almost ran to the bedroom. Her clothes for the next day didn’t take much space in the drawer. She thought he hadn’t cleaned out the medicine cabinet completely, but she found that he’d bought her a tooth brush.

When she came out of the bathroom, he was waiting right there, but he went in instead of grabbing her. She went into the bedroom and hung her nightie and robe in the closet. His stuff was shoved to one side, and there was a woman’s robe on a hook. She put hers on top.

When he came in, he gathered her into another kiss. This time, his tongue invaded her mouth. A minute later, he was licking her tongue and stroking his hands down her back to her ass. When he broke from the kiss, she turned at his direction. He kissed her ear while unbuttoning her blouse.

He kept baring, stroking, and kissing parts of her until all she was wearing was a set of earrings. When she pulled away and dived into the bed, he started on his own clothes. She put the earrings on the night stand. While she shivered in the cool sheets, he removed his glasses, shirt and tee, shoes and socks in that order. He came to bed in his trousers, and kissed her again.

She felt his tongue in her mouth, his chest against hers, and his clothed legs against the insides of her naked thighs.

“Kisses like this are easier on the legs, and feel nicer on the torso,” he said. He went back to kissing.

“Well, my chest isn’t as ticklish,” she said when he’d moved from her mouth to her neck. She couldn’t think why she’d complained. Getting tickled by his chest hairs was one of the most arousing experiences in her life. She regretted her comment when he backed off and she didn’t have that stimulation any more.

“Poor breasts! Did they get scratched?” And then he was kissing over her breast. The nipple hardened and stood up to beg his attention, but he went over to her other breast. His hand went between her legs and stroked up the inside of her thigh.

For what was probably minutes but seemed like hours, his lips and his fingers played teasing games. One would get closer and closer to her areola and then move away. The other would play the same game with her center.

Then he sucked her nipple, parted her lips, and stroked her clit. She melted.

“Oh, Alicia! You’re so juicy,” Craig said, He stroked that juice upward, and she felt her limbs all stiffen.

“You.” She meant that her arousal was all his doing.

Suddenly, he pushed the covers up while moving down. “You smell lovely.” She knew it wasn’t the remains of her cologne he was praising.

He pressed her legs together and then raised them with his shoulders. His hand shot forward on either side of her body. He cupped her breasts, and then his face was pressed to her groin.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed, and the vibrations went straight from his lips to her center. She tightened, and she lifted her hips off the bed. “Mmmmm,” and she splintered.

She writhed, and his face rode her. He kept humming, he pinched her nipples, and she kept shattering.

When she collapsed, he extricated himself and came up the bed to lie beside her with his head out from under the covers.

“You are wonderful,” he said. She puzzled why the ecstasy he brought to her was something that was wonderful of hers. She had neither the clarity of thought nor the breath to express that puzzle, though.

He stroked his fingers through her pubic hair, combing the curls straight for a second.

The second time he stroked there, he went slightly further south. When he went even further on the third stroke, she laughed.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” she said.

He rubbed his erection, already pressed against her, into her side. “We’re not built to be subtle.” On the fourth stroke, his hand went on and on. She widened her legs, and he cupped her. “Oh, Alicia, you’re wonderful everywhere, but most wonderful here.” She’d been cold when she first got into bed, but the heat radiating from him made her toasty, now -- less so where his legs against hers were still clothed.

He sucked on her ear lobe, and then nibbled down her neck. When he got to the place where his lips made her shiver, he stayed there and stroked more deeply between her lower lips.

“Can’t,” she explained. The previous climax had drained her for the night, if not for the year. Even as she stiffened, she knew that all his efforts would be in vain.

He was silent for the longest time as she tensed, and then began to wriggle. He brushed the covers off her chest with his head. Then he sucked her right nipple. It had already been tender, and the suction almost hurt. She felt the tension also turn to pain.

“Oh!” she said.

“Yes, darling. Come for me.” He was now staring in her eyes. She couldn’t look away; neither could she resist.

Her clit was fire, and, as she writhed under his piercing look, the fire burst out and consumed her.

“Love you,” he said when she collapsed. He got up and tucked the covers over her. He went out of the room, taking something with him. When he came back, it was dark. His legs, still completely covered, were covered in something softer. He rolled her away and kissed the back of her head.

The next thing she knew, her alarm and some other ring tone were sounding.

“Want dibs on the bathroom?” Craig asked. She couldn’t find her voice, but she got out of bed. Only when she was standing did she realize that she was naked. “Robe on the chair next to you.”

On the toilet, she realized that the robe was the one that Craig had had hanging in the closet. She finished and went back to the bedroom deciding whether to take her stuff into the bathroom or order him out of the bedroom.

As it turned out, he went into the bathroom of his own accord. She closed the bedroom door, dressed in her nightie, the robe she’d brought, and slippers from her case. She went into the kitchen and explored. He had bacon and eggs. She got both packages out. She hadn’t mentioned an apron, and he didn’t seem to have one.

“Am I cooking for both of us, or are you sticking to Wheaties?” she asked when he came in. He was shaven, but wearing a robe of his own.

“Please.” She took that as a request for a real breakfast. She put in four strips of bacon. She found plates and put a paper towel on one. When the bacon was done, she put it on that plate to dry and cracked four eggs.

“You might set the table,” she said. He did.

“Should I make the toast, too?” She nodded. A minute after he pushed the handle down on the toaster, the coffee maker signaled. He poured her a cup and brought it to her.

“That’s black,” he said. He got the milk carton out of the refrigerator. “Sugar’s on the table.”

“Did you get Equal?” He fetched the box and opened it. She got out one packet and dumped it in the cup. She found a spoon and stirred. Then, she had the first, life-restoring, sip. When she’d emptied the cup, it was time to put the eggs on the plates.

“Actually,” she admitted, “I feel pretty good for a morning.”

“Well, we got back here well before ten. We must have been asleep by eleven.”

“Nothing else could contribute to my feeling of well-being?”

His grin at this was not quite a smirk -- not quite. “Well, you had a lot more than two orgasms your first night here, and that didn’t seem to improve your mood. Maybe it’s a convex curve, and we’ll have to find your maximum.”

“You know, you go along for hours sounding human. Then, suddenly, the imitation fails spectacularly.”

“The British talk about two cultures,” he said. “English scientists and lib-arts types can’t understand each other. Well, we have one-and-a-half cultures. You go into history -- or early-childhood education -- and you don’t have to learn any science. If you major in science, you have to take history.”

“How many courses in early-childhood education did you take?”

“Good point. Aside from my mother’s take on it, and she taught high school, I took none. Still, I didn’t ask you about machine-level programming. Physics is basic to understanding our society, like history.”

“Well,” she said, “I can operate a computer. Can you operate a pre-kindergartener who doesn’t want to take a nap?”

“The computer program is supposed to be designed to be user friendly.” He was laughing, and after that she had to laugh, too. “Speaking of operating toddlers, today is my last time with Anne until the next year. I was planning to tell her today and soften it with pizza. What does the expert say?”

“That’s as good an idea as any.” Craig could have, after all, snuck out of town and left it to her to tell Anne that he’d gone.

“I could give you a set of keys and let you bring her here from the library.” He dropped that bombshell in a conversational tone of voice. His face, though, looked anxious. She shook her head.

She had brought her purse to the table. It was now or never. She got herself a glass of water, took the Pills out of her purse, and took the one for today.

“And don’t get any ideas, Buster.”

“Compromise?” he said. She looked a question. “I don’t act on any ideas that I might get, or -- for that matter -- any I already have.”

“That’s fair.”

“Who showers first?” he asked. “Assuming you aren’t interested in saving water.”

“I think we should have another rule that you not only don’t act on your ideas, but you don’t express them either. I’ll shower first, and quite alone.”

She took her clothes for the day and makeup into the bathroom with her. She came out looking professional. While he showered, she went through the apartment looking for signs of her occupation. He’d cleaned up the kitchen, and only the number of dishes in the dishwasher showed that she had been there.

He hadn’t touched the bedroom, but -- oddly -- he’d opened the window. She put her stuff away in the drawer, the closet, and her case. She made the bed. He’d kept the door closed on Anne’s previous visits, and whatever mess he left would be only his mess.

When he got out of the bathroom, he went directly to the bedroom. He came out looking like usual except that his hair was combed.

She glanced at the cell to get the time. They were all ready for Anne, but it would be nearly three hours before she was ready for them.

“I’m trying to think of a neutral topic of conversation,” he said, “but why bother?”

“You have a point. I hate making up new rules all the time, but let’s say that any funny stuff is confined to the bedroom. I’m embarrassed enough bringing Anne into this room when I think of what I did behind that door.”

“Funny stuff? And I was just going to give you the Pelican poem. Okay, and I know what you mean. Well, here goes. I selected it for Anne, and then I thought it wasn’t age-appropriate. ‘Hellican’ is only one of the issues.”

He got a print-out of Ogden Nash’s “A wonderful bird is the pelican” from somewhere and handed it to her.

“It’s all fun when you know the actual facts. If you don’t know them, it’s just misleading. I don’t want to give her false stories of natural history.”

“So,” she said, “you’ll give them to me?”

“You know what’s true, and that makes the exaggeration funny ... I don’t think you get enough fun in your life.”

“Well, I’m the one who schedules play time into her day. When was the last time a computer hugged you?”

“I definitely don’t get enough hugs,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, I walked into that one.”

“Not yet.” He stood up and opened his arms. She almost walked into the hug, but she remembered her own rule. She opened the door of the bedroom, and gestured to him with her finger.

“How long does it take to put on your face again?” he asked after they’d hugged.

“Five minutes, maybe. Why?”

“‘Cause I’m going to smear it all up,” he said, “and I want to set the alarm for when we leave.”

“Ten minutes walking. Set your alarm for quarter ‘til. Don’t smear the makeup, though.” She took her kit into the bathroom to remove the makeup. He set his glasses on the dresser, and she closed the bedroom door behind her when she came in.

It was far from as desperate as their making out had been in her apartment building. Maybe, for her, it was that she’d been satisfied -- deeply satisfied -- the previous night. Maybe, for him, it was that the time was late morning. It wasn’t even heavy making out.

They kissed, and he ran his hands through her hair. Then he kissed her face and neck and ears. She kissed all over his face and his neck. She unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his shoulder as far down as she could pull the neck of his tee-shirt. Then he took control again and lifted her hair to kiss the back of her neck.

When his alarm rang, they broke. She brushed her hair, taking time she hadn’t planned. She finished with just lip stick. Anne wouldn’t care, and the librarians sure wouldn’t. If Craig cared, he shouldn’t have played with her hair.

They got to Deb’s building a minute or two before noon. Anne found all the books, and they came down.

The library time went well. Another kid came in while Anne was playing with the giant Legos, but it was her first time there. She looked younger, and she let Anne lead in the game.

Pizza went even better. Then, when Anne had washed her hands afterwards, Craig broke the news of his vacation. She could tell that this was beyond Anne’s time horizon. She would have to deal with it. Still, Craig had tried.

“Now,” Craig asked when they had delivered Anne back to Deb, “can you stay with me for the rest of the day?”

“Sure.”

“We have some left-over pizza if you haven’t had enough lunch. We did oriental last night; conventional tonight. You liked Nookie’s didn’t you? The first time I took you out to dinner.”

“Yeah.”

Walking back, she asked about the family he was going to join for Christmas. His sister, Heather, had 2 children. Her husband’s name was Theo Randolph. “Theo is Theodore Randolph the third, and Teddie is the fourth, God save him.” Apparently, it was a first marriage, and it had to have lasted as long as Teddie had been alive which was almost 11 years.

His sister had once worked as a secretary, but was now a full-time homemaker. She was thinking about going back to work when Teddie entered high school. There was a problem in that Theo was a lawyer in the firm for which Heather had worked. She couldn’t go back there, and working for another lawyer would be a conflict. Apparently, she -- and Craig -- considered being a legal secretary as higher class than being a secretary.