Chapter 5

As Jane purred on the floor of Harry's shower, many blocks uptown from Harry's apartment Jim was sitting on Jane's bed waiting for Connie to finish her shower. He liked Connie. He loved looking at her. She seemed to feel the opposite about him. It puzzled him and worried him. Besides lusting after her, he also knew he needed to be around Jane a lot over the next two months. Being unwanted by Jane's roommate wouldn't make for an environment of peace and comfort needed to be established for Jane to unwind and get fixed up.

He knew there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing was hidden from Connie. He looked into her intelligent and beautiful brown eyes, and he knew those eyes could look inside him and see him for who he truly was. From the first moment her eyes caught his, he knew he was naked before her. At least his soul. He would have loved to be naked beside her naked body

When they both waved at Jane and Harry arriving in their canoe from their romantic paddling a few hours before, Jim realized the woman of his dreams was Connie, Jane's roommate. He was pleased. He had noticed her while waiting for Jane and Harry to end their canoeing. Once he had sent the two new lovers off, he had searched for picnic supplies. It had taken him nearly an hour to get everything together and return, and was happy to see they were still canoeing. He sat on a bench and waited another half hour, the blanket and the bags of food surrounding him. He occupied himself people watching. The most pleasant subject turned out to be Connie.

Once he spotted her he could hardly look away. He didn't want to be rude, but she was so attractive. She had a cute body, no more than a couple inches over five feet. It was perfectly proportioned. Her pants were tight enough to reveal the curve of her thighs and the gentle taper of her legs. Her ass was round and firm, and he closed his eyes and imagined biting one of those firm cheeks. Her shirt was tailored to her torso so that he could see the roundness of her breasts which bounced high and proportionally large over her slightly plump and sexy tummy. And the curve from chest to hips was pure poetry.

But even with those astounding assets it was her face that blew him away. In many ways her body had reminded him, to the point of making him tingle and his cock to rise a bit, of Kathleen, the young woman who had taken away his virginity in high school. But while Kathleen was an incredibly cute blonde, Connie was brunette and her soft wavy hair framed an awesomely beautiful face. From her high smooth forehead to her deep brown eyes perfectly spaced and sized, to her slightly bobbed small nose, to her high cheekbones that dropped down to narrow cheeks, to her small bee-stung mouth, to her soft yet pronounced chin, everything about her face was proportioned to project beauty. He couldn't help marveling at her, and when she noticed his stare, she stared back. It was a challenge, not a seduction. "Fuck off," her face seemed to be saying. Finally realizing how rude he was being, he looked away.

She hadn't walked away. Once she was there she remained and within eyesight of him. He couldn't help stealing glances, etching her face and body into his mind for some unknown future purpose. And she would catch him.

Perhaps that's why when they realized who they were and why they were where they were, Jim seemed the only happy one.

"Could you help me with the bag or the blanket," he said shyly with a smile. She on the other hand gave him a testy grimace. After a moment, she resigned herself to helping, taking the blanket and draping it over her lovely shoulder, the ends nearly touching the ground. She appreciated it when the tall Harry took over the transport of the blanket. She didn't appreciate it when he and Jane walked off swiftly. She was alone with Jim, walking beside him, seemingly stuck beside him. She actually didn't know he was named Jim until...

"Hi, I'm Jim. You must be Connie," he said. He felt nervous as a schoolboy trying to talk to some idolized rock star. The nerd façade had come down.

"Guilty as charged," she said. Despite the terseness of her comment, he liked the mellifluous sound of her voice. A Southern accent but not deep south. Middle south perhaps.

"Kentucky," she said reading his mind. They had reached the blanket and sat opposite from Harry and Jane.

"I'm from Minnesota," he said. He proceeded to pull the food and liquid from the bag.

"Yeah, I figured. Same as Jane. Same kind of accent. You related?" she said as everyone took plates, utensils and cups and began eating. They were all hungry.

"No. We're... she's... Jane was my girlfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," she said and mulled it over as she chewed and drank and watched the two new lovers, Jane and Harry as they subtly moved towards each other. The sexual excitement of a new relationship was obvious. "Pretty weird."

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. "You could say that." He and Connie continued watching the lovers as they closed in on each other.

"I'm heading over to Harry's to listen to his music. Why don't you spend some time with Connie," said Jane to Jim, and to Connie, "if that's okay?" Jim was more than glad to agree, but wasn't sure how Connie would react. It was a relief when she nodded along with him.

"Weird," said Connie, shaking her head. "How long were you... together."

"A couple years, I guess. I haven't seen her for a couple years. It was in high school."

"Puppy love."

"I wouldn't say that. We were pretty mature for a couple of highschoolers. It was an intense relationship. Might have lasted if we hadn't needed to pursue different paths in two very different parts of the country. We were very much in love."

Connie shook her head. "Weirder and weirder," she said in wonder as they watched the couple touch. "Don't you want to grab her away from him?"

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," said Jim.

"Is that a crack against Jane?" she said defensively. "She's not perfect, but she's... pretty great."

"No. I mean yes. She is great. I was serious. I wanted Harry and Jane to meet."

"Shit," Connie said. They watched Harry begin massaging Jane's shoulders.

"That's a good start," Jim said to himself, but so Connie could hear. He looked over at her beautiful face for only the third time since they had introduced each other. He didn't want to piss her off more than he already had. She was looking at him. He was happy to see curiosity in her expression. "It's all about massage," he explained. "I'm here to give her massages and to hopefully train Harry to continue when I leave. He seems to enjoy massaging her, and she seems to enjoy him doing it."

"This is nuts. The more you tell me the weirder it gets."

"It's a long story, Connie." They noticed the massages had become caresses. "Uh oh, not the direction I hoped."

"I believe it's the direction they hoped. I knew you'd be jealous," she said proudly.

"That's not it. You seem to be stuck with me awhile, and it is a long story," he said as he got onto his feet. He reached down, and she paused before putting her petite hand into his big mitt. He wondered if there was any possibility she felt the thrill he felt upon their first physical contact. Once she was standing beside him, she looked into his eyes. He could swear he saw the corner of her lips edging up towards a warm smile before she looked away. It was enough to thrill his heart and slightly engorge his cock. It would stay slightly engorged for the rest of the evening. He might have been embarrassed, but he wasn't. Superman lets it all hang out. He couldn't tell how the swelling was effecting her. The woman baffled him. At least she didn't seem scared, the one reaction which would make him feel regretful of his club, even though not at full magnificence, still revealing his physical attraction to her. And she never told him to fuck off and leave her alone and walk away as she could have done. Mostly she was serious, quiet, with rarely a smile.

They shopped at fancy boutiques, a couple of department stores and a bookstore. Along their travels, Jim monopolized the conversation. Partly it was because he was telling her all the details which preceded and caused his being there. After he told the basic story, he tried getting her to talk about herself, but she just asked more questions about him. Eventually he told her about Jane's mother, and his love for her. He told her about their conversations, her seduction of him. He told her about his modeling. Everything except the voyeur episodes. He could tell her about that if, as he hoped, they got to know each other better. But he did tell her about his menage a trois with Dr. Anderson.

"How old is Mrs. Riemer?" she asked. He could tell he was shocking her. Never having told anyone else except Kristen didn't make it easier. Maybe he had to let it spill out after keeping it to himself and especially from Jane for so long.

"She had Jane when she was pretty young. She's only forty."

"Forty! And you're barely twenty! She's doing great, but couldn't you do better?"

"No," he said with a laugh. "Victoria is a beautiful woman. She's in incredible shape. She's bright and energetic. We love each other. I couldn't do better." He wanted to say he could do as good with Connie, but didn't.

At the bookstore, Jim was looking over the spines of the sci-fi section when Connie walked up to him and stood looking beautiful and determined, her hands on her hips.

"What do bookstores have besides books?" she asked.

"Well, um, paper and..."

"Magazines!" she said. "Fashion magazines! You in any?" she said, sounding skeptical. Maybe Jim had been pulling his leg with his weird stories. The modeling part would be a good test. She couldn't see Jim as a model what with his nerdy thick glasses covered face. Jim had to think. "No?" she said, feeling satisfied.

"Let's go see," he said with a smile. With the couple books he had found in hand, he followed Connie's sexy round butt to the magazine racks. He looked for the thickest fashion magazine he could find, Vogue, and paged through it.

"No way. Vogue?" she said. It was taking him awhile paging through the many ads. He actually knew basically where the ad was, but he enjoyed her skepticism. He liked the way she challenged him. The excitement was making his club harder and thicker in his pants. The suspense couldn't last forever, so he found the ad and showed it to her.

The ad was the best they had ever done. It was a breakthrough. A regional bias was pervasive in the fashion world. Everything Victoria had produced before had been for mid-western markets. The ads in Vogue were usually shot by photographers in major market cities like New York, Paris, London, Milan. But here was a Minneapolis production in the glossy pages of the world's most famous fashion magazine. Not only that made him proud, but the image itself was so effective, so seductive, and he knew he helped make it work.

Connie looked at the ad. She looked at Jim basically naked, a sheet hiding his genitals and nothing else, watching a gorgeous model getting dressed. The model and especially Jim had an intimate just fucked look on their faces. Connie felt a tingle and a sticky dampness between her legs. "Oh man, what a body," she said to herself. She looked up at Jim, and he saw the warm half smile, the one that had begun their journey, the one that had first made him hard, on her beautiful face again. He nearly melted. "Let's go," she said to him, carrying the magazine to the checkout line, the smile gone again. He felt the chafing of his tightened pants as he walked behind her, his club having added an extra inch.

After hitting a couple more stores, carrying several bags between them, Jim said, "I've been walking all day. I'm getting pretty tired."

He could see a cringe on her face, realizing all the shopping was a way to avoid the inevitable. He was going home with her, sleeping in the same apartment with her. "Okay, let's grab a cab," she said finally.

"I could find a hotel room if you'd rather..." he said. He crossed his fingers, hidden by his bags. He hoped...

"Nonsense," she said. He breathed again.

So, in the apartment, sitting on Jane's bed, listening to the water pore over Connie's fantastic little body, he still had no idea where he stood with her. Though he was tired, the confusion was giving him a nervous energy.

Snapping out of his inner turmoil for a moment, he realized the time. He took the phone in hand and dialed Vic. The timing was perfect. He knew it would be.

"Hello darling," Vic said with a sexy moan.

"You knew it was me?" said Jim. They both knew she never got called that time of night. Not even Jane, who tended to call early in the morning or, when she was particularly perturbed, in the middle of the night. Anything between ten at night until two in the morning was Jim's time.

"I hope it's you," she said. They laughed. He told her of the trip so far, about Jane and Harry, about Jane's roommate.

"You fuck her?" Vic asked.

"Who?" He hadn't told her about Jane and himself the night before.

"Who? Oh no, you didn't start up with my daughter again?" she said. He could never have kept it from her. But as usual, she wanted to hear all about it. She wasn't mad. It turned her on, which turned him on.

"Not now, darling. Later. I promise," he said. "I'm not exactly alone."

"You had better or I might get jealous and snatch you right out of there."

"I miss you too," he said.

"So you're not alone?"

"Connie, Jane's roommate's in the shower," Jim said, not hearing the shower being shut off.

"So have you fucked her?"

"No," he said, letting the regret show through, "but I would love to. And I'd love to share her with you. She's really beautiful and sharp as a tack. I think she'd be lots of fun. But I think she really doesn't like me. I seem to annoy her. I feel like a big nerd around her, or I think she thinks I'm some big joke of a nerd."

"Don't believe it."

"Hey, I'm not the catch of the century or anything."

"You are. To me you are. But don't believe she doesn't want you. Is she attached?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, but I don't know. She didn't tell me anything about herself, like I don't deserve to know or something." He noticed the shower had been shut off and didn't know when. A nervous shock zapped his heart. "I better go,"

"I love you. Call me tomorrow, and tell me everything."

"I will. I love you too."

When he put the phone down he saw Connie standing in the bathroom doorway looking serious as ever with her hands on her hips. She looked absolutely stunning freshly washed in her terry robe. His heart skipped a beat.

"I'll give you money for the call."

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to bed. There should be enough hot water left if you want to take a shower." As she passed him she looked down at his club at nearly full size expanding his pants to their maximum. She quickly glanced away and headed to her room. She didn't want to see how wide her eyes were and hoped the reddening of her cheeks would be seen by him as caused by the shower.

"Okay, thanks," he said, smiling at her, which she didn't return. Was that a moan he heard? It couldn't be.

After the shower had pored off all the grime of the city, he used the towel over his genitals and ass while negotiating the living room where Jane lived for something to alleviate his nakedness. He had slept naked most of his late teens, but since learning massage wore a t shirt and warm up pants to bed. It kept his muscles warm during the night. Not having these items available, and not wanting to put on his two day old clothes, he hunted through Jane's clothing drawers. He decided on a pair of pink warm up pants, and so as not to stretch and wreck any more of her clothes than needed, he kept it at that. The warm ups ended just below his knees, but it made him decent. After all he was really an uninvited guest in Connie's apartment.

Once the bed side lamp was shut off and he had slipped under the sheet of Jane's bed, he stared up at the dark ceiling and mulled over the day. Thoughts of Jane and Vic fluttered through his head and tingled in his cock. It rose to the occasion, but only reached club stature when Connie came to mind. He slipped his hand under the soft tight material of the warm ups to grasp his club and pull. He had learned how noisy the bed was, so he didn't go into full mastubatorial mode. Carefully tugging at his hard sensitive flesh, eyes closed, he heard Connie's muffled voice through her door.

"Jim," she said quietly. Soft enough to seem imagined, but Jim must have been attuned to her frequency, because he was positive he heard her. "Come here." Jim walked to the closed door and opened it carefully, leaning in, the door hiding his club. There was enough light from the street below to illuminate her figure. She was in shadows, but he could make out the half smile on her gorgeous face. "You think you could give me a massage?" she asked. "You're not too tired?"

He nearly laughed. He could never be too tired to caress her beautiful flesh. "You have any massage oil?"

"What kind of oil?"

"I guess any oil would be okay. Almond oil is best."

"I have some," she said excitedly and darted past him into the kitchen. Even though her nightie was loose, meant for comfort not provocation, he loved watching the light weight cloth move around her, clinging to her at various points, subtly revealing her shape. He loved the legs, naked all the way to the feet and toes and naked under the nightie. He watched the shadow play of soft white flesh as the muscles flexed when she walked. His eyes caught the movement of her arms, their soft musculature, and the ovoid ball of flesh at her shoulder. The straps of her nightie seemed to beckon his fingers to slid it off. She handed the bottle of oil to him. She stood before him, leaning on the other side of the door, her breast resting on his hand. looking up at him and smiling. She was painfully beautiful to behold.

"You have a clean towel?" he said.

"What for?" she said, suggesting the answer might be no, which would be fine with him.

"Well, um," he began, the tip of his club felt her door through the warm ups. "You have to be naked, except you can cover up parts I'm not massaging."

"Come here," she said. He followed her to the side of the bed and knelt down, hiding his physical proof of his interest in her, as she slipped under her sheets. "I don't need a towel. Is that okay?" He swallowed and nodded.

"You can use the sheet if you want," he told her as she reached under it to grab the hem of the nightie and pull it over her head. Once she had tossed it onto the floor and was lying back on the bed, it was obvious the sheet wasn't necessary to her. His eyes were transfixed by the tight motion of her breasts once she had settled back. Her nipples were not high, but they were wide, and the areola was wider than he had ever seen. A paradise of pleasure texture. She kicked the sheet off and lay naked. Her pale soft tummy, her little hill of slightly curled brunette hair, the gentle curve of her thighs tapering down her perfect legs to her naked little feet were on display for him. He massaged her cheeks and along her eye sockets, her forehead and temples and jaw, with sure but gentle pressure. He felt her relaxation begin. Meanwhile he stared at her incredible body. He was in awe.

He broke the stare to oil up his hands. He began reaching over her to massage her shoulders, but realized he couldn't give her a good massage that way. There was enough space above her head that he could stand their and work her shoulders and neck while staring at the supple movement of her breasts, firm bubbles of flesh resting taut on her chest... When he slid his hands under her to slide along her spine, his club was beside her face. She turned her face towards it and opened her eyes.

Smiling her hand came up and grabbed his club through the tented warm up and pulled on its head. Jim groaned, pushing it against her cheek. She nestled on it, turned her head a little more, and kissed it through the fabric. He moaned again.

"You shouldn't," said Jim reluctantly as she continued to pet his thick club. She let go. "Turn over."

She turned face down. He got some more oil and worked her shoulder a little more. Then he walked around and straddled her. His club hovered between her ass cheeks as he massaged her back. She sighed beneath his fingers. He moved further down to work on her ass. His club was now near her feet. She nudged her ankles lightly against his ball. When one ankle deciphered his hard on, it pushed against it with greater vigor. Her legs parted. He could smell her excitement, and he could see it glimmer subtly between her thighs, dampening dark pussy lips. When he pushed her firm round ass cheeks up with his hands, her nether lips opened more, beckoning him. He had to swallow the saliva building in his mouth or he would be dripping out the side like a mad animal. He wanted to drink the intoxicant, slide into the middle of the hill of pleasure with his tongue. And he wanted to massage her, too. To give her something she had never had. To make her feel good. So he continued.

He kneaded the back of her thighs, his fingers sliding ever so close to her pussy. Close enough to feel the damp heat exuding from it. She rubbed his club harder between her feet and moaned. He wasn't teasing, he was massaging. It took a Superman effort to not slide anything inside her lower mouth opening and closing, beckoning. He kneaded down the leg, behind the shin.

"Turn over," he said with a swallow.

Maybe he should cover her up like he did for his two lovely forty year olds at home. To give her his best professional massage, it would help. But when he began sliding the sheet over her legs to eventually cover her up, she said, "No."

While oiling his hands again, he was transfixed by the small hill rising up at the base of her abdomen, lightly covered with hair.

He especially enjoyed the next massage, his hands flat on her chest moving slowly back and forth across breasts, feeling the succulent texture of her nipples and large areola. He was glad to work at the side of her. There were enough distractions. When his hands descended away from the nipples, she moved down, trying to keep his hands there.

"Don't move. Keep your eyes closed. Relax," he said in a low voice.

"You're right. Feels better," she said within a comfortable sigh.

"Shhh," he said. After circling her tummy, he worked on her arms. The right one meant leaning his groin against her hip. He kept himself from grinding into her there. The left arm began in a position which always played on the edge of seduction. The hand of the person being massaged needed to rest near his groin. He found a way of placing it discreetly away from the club, which often was hard when giving massages, despite the rule against sex. What could he say, he loved massaging women. It turned him on. Connie would have nothing to do with discretion. She searched and found his club, rubbing it softly through the soft stretched fabric, too relaxed to be more vigorous.

"Take it off," she said quiet as a whisper. He pulled down the warm ups and off. She slid her hands around the head and down the shaft of his naked club with the gentlest of pressure. "Put some oil on it." He did so with pleasure. "Mmm," she said, contentedly stroking his slippery club.

He moved to her thighs, moving himself away from her fingers. His fingers were sliding dangerously close to her pussy which she opened to him by opening her legs a few inches... The tips made contact four times, a couple times lingering on the edge of her pussy lips. She moaned with each moment of electric contact. He was teasing her.

His hands moved down across her shin. He was at the foot of the bed, massaging her feet. He couldn't help it when her left big toe was in his mouth and he was sucking on it as his hands covered the feet with massage and oil, moving slowly towards his mouth. She sent out an elongated moan. Once his fingers replaced his mouth on the big toe, the massage was done.

"I gotta go wash my hands. You don't move."

"Mmm," she said, perfectly calm. Perfectly horny. She watched his magnificent club bounce in front of him as he walked naked out the door. "Hurry back," she sighed.

He quickly scrubbed off the oil and her dirt and "bad energy" as Dr. Anderson called it which he had taken from her happily.

She watched his club bounce pointing at her as he returned. She opened her little hand, clutching it in the air, wanting it filled with his cock. He obliged. She held what she could of it and slid her hand up and down slowly, still in the relaxed mode.

"Oh," he moaned.

"Kiss me," she said. He leaned down and their lips touched. Hers were incredibly soft and warm. A long lingering kiss ended when she slid her lips along the side of his face until her mouth was at his ear. She suddenly bit down on his earlobe, a love bite. "Fuck me." Her thighs opened.

He whispered in her ear, "We shouldn't. I shouldn't tie sex with massage. My teacher..."

"Fuck me," she said, licking his ear, her thighs opening wider. She slid her mouth back to his and sucked in his tongue, encircling it with her lips. When she released his tongue, he was vibrating from the passionate need he had for her. She held his face in her hands, looking deeply into his eyes, revealing the lust in hers. "Fuck me," she said, her thighs opening even wider. When he moved his face to start kissing her collarbone, working towards those glorious tits, she took his head and as gently as possible redirected it back in front of hers. "Fuck me."

He climbed between her legs. She still had her hand holding his club and directed the head to her pussy, hot and wet and open. She was so small. The sheathe looked like it was not meant to give his club a home. She guided the head inside. He pushed, pushed again, pumping his mammoth rod inside the tightest pussy Jim had ever felt. And it didn't help any that he was bigger and harder then ever. She was so relaxed she let her pussy expand without resistance to the widest it had been. If it hadn't been for the massage, she would have struggled against opening up to such a ridiculous width for her poor little pussy to encompass his massive club. God but it felt so good. The way it got all the way deep inside her and was fucking her steady, long strokes hitting all the right places, was too good. When his lips touched her titty and sucked, she melted into a mess of flesh and nerves, the nerves thrilled, the flesh pulsing, muscles and bone gone. His club was pumping inside her with long hard strokes. The strokes shortened and quickened, making her pant. When she was hit full throttle by her orgasm she hugged her legs around his ass and pulled him hard against her and deeper inside her. Moaning long and high, then silence, her insides quivered with the wave of ecstacy.

He began to fuck her hard and fast in the small space provided by the give of her embracing legs on his ass. "Oh, oh, oh," he groaned with each slide inside her depths. He grabbed her hips and pulled her cunny hard onto his cock. "Oh god," he said, and let loose his seed, which, having been building since early morning and along with her cum, which was plentiful as well,. flooded the nonexistent space of her cunny and flowed over his ball sac and her ass. He lay down, turning her so she was lying on him, his cock still throbbing in counterpoint to her throbs inside her sheathe. Each heartbeat of retreat, as his cock softened and shortened, was another post orgasmic thrill for her. She sighed and laughed simultaneously when it finally slid out. He lay on his side, and she curled up on hers with her lovely back and small round ass pressed along his torso.

He suddenly realized he had fucked her without protection. "Vic's gonna kill me," he thought. He said to Connie, "You protected?"

"Don't worry about it," she said.

Jim didn't want to worry about it, so he didn't. "You are trouble aren't you?"

"What?" she said, stiffening up.

"I promised someone I wouldn't be with anyone else unless I wore protection."

"That some one being Victoria, who lets you sleep... with me but within certain... guidelines." She laughed and shook her head.

"And I have never broken my oath to Dr. Anderson about sex and massage. Which means I can never give you a massage again... unless..."

"Unless you fuck me every time!"

"And only you. You are my exclusive massage fuck. You are trouble but we'll have to make due." His big hand gently stroked one long stroke from her mouth, down her neck, along her curvaceous side, across her hips and ass and down her legs to her toes.

She began to talk. Finally. About herself. Still relaxed, her voice was calm. There was no emotional inflection. The words held all the emotions unto themselves. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch today," she said, covering his mouth with her little paw. "Shh. Let me speak. I had a bad weekend. I was treated badly. My boss and his son, who I thought I might go out with, but certainly won't now, treated me like a whore. They didn't give a shit about who I was, only my body. Both of them. Together. It wasn't good.