Chapter 3: Peter

“Enhanced Systems, Lauren Graham speaking, how may I help you?” said Lauren as she picked up the telephone on her desk. She glanced at her desk clock and picked up a pen.

“I’ll just bet you could enhance my system,” replied the caller, a lewd tone to his voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” answered a laughing Lauren. “You nut, do you need someone or are you just calling to sexually harass me?”

Peter Tallman’s grin could practically be heard through the phone line. “Just checking, are you still coming over after work? I was figuring dinner or something.”

“Yes. I’ll call you if there’s a problem, but figure around six or so,” she answered. Glancing around the small office, she saw a customer coming through the door. “Gotta go. Love ya’.”

Lauren thought about the phone call after routing the customer off to the sales offices. Did she love Peter Tallman? She certainly lusted for him, but love? She had been in love for ten years, with her late husband, Gary, and her feelings for her new lover were somewhat different.

Lauren Boscow had met Gary Graham at Union Valley Community College, at the start of the Spring semester their freshman year, when the two were paired as lab partners in Geology 101, ‘Rocks for Jocks.’ Both needed a single lab science class to graduate, and by mid-semester had begun sleeping with each other. They had fallen in love along the way and kept up the relationship through the following year and beyond. Lauren had taken her two-year degree and gotten a job as a secretary; Gary had transferred into a four-year program in criminal science. Weekends he would stay in her apartment and screw her silly. After Gary graduated and took a job as a sheriff’s deputy, they were married.

For the next eight years things were blissfully happy for the young couple. They started a family, bought a house, and even got a dopey dog. Then it all ended on a stormy night when an out-of-control car slammed into the side of Gary’s patrol car. He lingered long enough for Lauren to be rushed to the hospital to be with him, though he died without regaining consciousness.

Lauren believed her life came to an end that day, though she was mistaken. There had been enough insurance and benefits for the house to be paid for. She had to keep working to pay for everything else, but that was no different than before the accident. Her mother and Gary’s took care of the children; with Heather grown up there were three babysitters. Lauren was amazed at how well the fourteen-year-old had managed the children afterwards; it was obvious the girl did not need a babysitter anymore but could be one.

With Jimmy and Holly both now in school, childcare pressures eased. During the school year, Heather could sit for them after school. During summer recess, Lauren kept them in a morning program at the school. Afternoons, the two grandmothers and Heather kept a schedule they sorted out among themselves. The two older women had taken Heather to heart, treating her as another granddaughter.

Lauren had met Peter only six months ago, during the winter, and her life had disrupted ever since. Quite simply, he was the sexiest man she had ever met, and when she was with him nothing else mattered. She wasn’t sure if it was love or simply lust, but she wanted it to continue.

Like many relationships, this one had started at work. Enhanced Systems developed computer systems and networks, and Lauren worked as a secretary there. They had first met when she had been assigned to the receptionist job after working in sales. Hearing the front door open, she had looked up to see the most impossibly perfect physical specimen of a man coming closer. Peter Tallman was only a few inches taller than her own five-seven, but he had a presence that let him fill a room. He was blonde, with thick hair that was more wavy than curly, a dark tan, blue eyes, and perfect gleaming white teeth. He was wearing a short-sleeved knit sports shirt with a company logo on it, and thick golden curls covered his forearms and showed at the open neck of the shirt. He was powerfully built, like a weightlifter, with a broad chest and wide shoulders, and his muscles rippled easily as he approached her. If human male pheromones were possible, Peter Tallman exuded them by the quart! He oozed sexuality.

It had been just over two years since Lauren had buried her husband, and never in that time had another man even tempted her. A number had tried to date her, some after a discrete interval and others almost immediately, but she had never once been interested. When Peter left after his meeting, he stopped by Lauren’s desk and managed to get not only her phone number but a date for the following Saturday night.

That first date had been nothing more than dinner and drinks, and Lauren had been as nervous as Heather was now. She had worn tight slacks and a turtleneck sweater, terrified of the impression she was making. Too conservative? Too tight? Did it make her look fat? Too busty? Too tall? Midway through dinner, Peter had reached across the table and taken her hand. “Lauren, you are as jittery as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Have I done something wrong?”

Lauren had looked horrified. “Oh my God, no!” she blurted out. At his curious but insistent gaze, she said, “I’m just, well, this is so new to me. This is the first time I’ve been out, well, with a man since my husband died. The last time I dated I was in college!”

Peter’s eyes widened at this. He hadn’t suspected Lauren was a widow, since she no longer wore her wedding band. He drew her out about her marriage and family, curious and finding himself in uncharted territory also. Peter Tallman knew he was a good-looking guy with a way with women, but his personal preference was for short and slim blondes, young ones, college age. Lauren was anything but that. She was over two years older than he was, a buxom brunette, and in heels could look him in the eye. Despite this, he had wanted her since the first time he saw her at the receptionist desk.

After a while, Lauren had looked across the table in horror. “Oh, God, I must be babbling!” she had said.

Peter laughed and clasped her hand tightly. “Will you calm down! I’ll let you know when you start babbling. Are you enjoying dinner?” he asked. Lauren nodded mutely, and he continued. “Then don’t be nervous. You knew what to do then, and if you would relax a little, you’d know what to do now. Just go with the flow.”

Lauren’s shoulders had slumped in relief at his words, and she clenched his hand tightly before concentrating on her meal. After dinner they had slipped into the lounge of the restaurant for a couple of drinks before Peter took her home.

Any nervousness Lauren felt vanished as Peter kissed her good night at her front door. The young widow practically melted in his arms, and the kiss became more extended than planned. Within moments, Peter had her backed up against the door frame, his hands roaming across her body as he ground his pelvis against hers. When Lauren came up for air, her face was flushed, and her eyes were glazed with desire, and she had to wrench herself away. “I can’t ... the kids ... Heather...” came out in a rush, and she pulled the screen door open and stepped inside. Turning back, she asked, “Call me? Please?”

Peter grinned and leaned in, for a much quicker kiss. “I’ll call,” he promised.

A few days later, Peter called, and Lauren invited him to dinner. He found this an intriguing invitation and showed up at her door at six the following Friday night. A rich smell pervaded the foyer as he stepped inside and leaned forward to kiss her. “I thought we were going out,” he commented as he saw the dining room table set for two.

“No, I said I was inviting you to dinner. Here. Come on in.”

“It smells delicious!”

“Thank you. Come and see.” Taking Peter’s hand, she led him into the kitchen. “I just put the beef bourguignon in the oven; that has to bake for another hour-and-a-half. We’ve also got a nice loaf of French bread and some fresh asparagus,” she said proudly. Lauren considered herself a good cook and had taken the afternoon off to get everything ready.

First, her mother had come over and taken the children with her for the weekend. This was the first time Lauren had asked for time alone with a man since the funeral, and even if her mother was a little nervous, she was silently ecstatic that her daughter was coming out of her shell. Next, Lauren had given the house a severe going over with Heather, cleaning and dusting hurriedly. Then, while Heather had started preparing the dinner, Lauren had rushed to her bedroom for a quick shower, running back downstairs in her robe to finish dinner. She had just managed to dress and rush Heather out the back when the doorbell rang.

“Exactly what is beef borg ... whatever?” Peter asked.

“Basically, it’s nothing more than beef tips in a burgundy stew of sorts.” She handed him a bottle of burgundy. “Here. Open this. We can have some wine while we wait for the beef to cook.” She grabbed a pair of wine glasses and a corkscrew and led him back to the living room.

Peter opened the wine and poured a pair of glasses, then let Lauren take him on a tour of the downstairs. The house was small but meticulously cared for, and he could tell that his hostess had considerable pride in her home. It was also a home where children were present, even if not underfoot at that very moment, and he was confused by this. Never had he dated a woman with children, and he had no idea what the protocol was with children.

Peter led Lauren by the hand back into the living room. He refilled their glasses, then sat down in a large armchair. Reaching out, he pulled her towards him, down onto his lap, and Lauren gave him a tentative and nervous smile as she settled into place. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned how lovely you look,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, a shiver running through her as his free hand ran up her back. She had worn a long black and pink halter-topped dress, and the feel of his fingers on the back was electric. She moved closer and found his lips reaching out to hers.

They kissed briefly, then Peter pulled back, a ghostly smile on his face. Lauren was confused, wanting to keep going, and she eyed him as he dipped an index finger into his wine glass. Removing it, he ran the wet finger across her cheek, then leaned back in to lick and kiss the wet trail. Lauren gasped at the touch of his lips to her skin, her back arching, thrusting her breasts forward. Peter repeated the maneuver, trailing the wine down to her throat, and he licked and nibbled his way to the soft skin there.

Peter stopped and pulled back. Lauren was practically panting with her desire and waited silently as he took her glass and set it aside. With his fingers, he then trailed the wine down her throat to a spot just above and between her breasts, and when he moved back in she thought she had died and gone to heaven!

Peter disdained using any more wine on the pliant and needy woman. Even as he licked and kissed the skin of her neck, he blindly set his wineglass aside. Then, as one hand began to cup and knead her breasts through her dress, the hand behind her slipped up and undid the catch holding the halter-top together. As this came down, he pulled it away, then lowered his lips. He lifted one of the bountiful tits and began to suck and chew on the engorged nipple, wondering what he had ever thought bad about large tits. These were simply delicious.