What a terrible drive. 6 hours to get here. She was exhausted and worried whether she could get the suitcase up the stairs.

As she parked she saw movement on the porch. It was Alex Baugh. Her husband had said he would be coming by. He was the perfect white knight to help with the too big suitcase.

“Alex, you are a life saver. Can you help me unload the car?”

Of course he responds. Several trips later she collapsed on the porch rocker. They talk a bit and then he said he had a few things in the house to show her that might need attention.

She said give her a minute to get over the drive. She moves into kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet. “I’m having a vodka tonic; can I fix you one?”

“Yes, ma’am, that would be nice.” She reaches for another glass up high, which pulls her white blouse tight across her generous bust.

Nice. Very nice, Alex thinks.

On the porch she turns to him and says, “tell me everything”. He says, “Let’s start upstairs.” She says, “not about the house. About you! Your family, what work have you done?”

He relates he is married 7 years and they have 2 children. She teaches.

She lets him go on while sipping (gulping) her drink.

The ice in her glass rattles.

“Alex, could you be a dear and fix me another? You have one, too, if you’re ready.”

Half hour passes; dusk falls. She finally says, “ok, show me what all is broken. But first can you carry that big suitcase to my room?”

As they climb the stairs Alex is droning on about what needs repair, paint, etc

But she can hardly understand him. Drowsy. She feels suddenly drowsy.

“Alex, give me minute; I need to lie down.”

Suddenly room is spinning but she makes it on the bed.

Sometime later her eyes pop open. It is dark inside and outside. Her hips are moving. From something. She reaches to her itching groin and shockingly finds a man’s hand down there. And she can feel her shorts are unbuttoned and pushed below her fanny. The man’s hand is moving on her pudenda, and the squishing noise she notices is obviously his fingers in her vagina. But the itching is so bad that she holds his hand there for a moment, hunching back against the intrusion.

Out of nowhere she screams as a shuddering orgasm crashes through her. She shakes and shudders and vibrates for almost a minute, and then she is sobbing. Meanwhile the man keeps up the rhythm.

What the hell was that? I don’t scream. I don’t shake?

It dawns on her this is Alex the concierge. But she can’t stop hunching the hand because she itches so badly The thought comes that it is a big hand; she can tell because her left hand is till on top of his. Trying to remove the offending hand or hold him place? She is conflicted.