Chapter 1: A Teenager Too Many

"See you later, love," said Frank, as he opened the door to the garage. Angela, in her bathrobe, mumbled something, heading to the bathroom. Half-asleep, with the hair tumbled down, Angela looked adorable. Frank suppressed the impulse to kiss her and got into the car.

Frank's condo had an attached garage — something Frank appreciated in winter. The garage was small and so, perforce, was Frank's car, but Frank appreciated not having to scrape ice off the windshield before driving to work. This early, the traffic was still light and Frank barely had time to go over his plans for the day before he arrived at the office.

Dinter, Dinter and Davenport was a medium-sized private equity firm specializing in high technology. They were picky in their hiring, and expected their associates to work hard, work long hours and make no mistakes. Frank was glad to have a job there but it helped to start the day early.

It was an hour later that Mary, his assistant, arrived. She immediately poured herself coffee that Frank prepared a few minutes earlier, and took the first sip with a sigh.

"Hi, Frank. Thank for making the coffee," Mary said. "I've gotten used to this kind of thing and now come here directly, instead of drinking coffee at home. If you ever take the vacation days you've been accumulating, I wouldn't be awake for the first hour of the day. You shouldn't be spoiling me like this."

"Ha! This is a small payment for the late nights you stayed to help me with wordsmithing. Besides, if you had something other than your five-minute commute you would be awake by the time you get here."

"No thanks," said Mary. "I wouldn't trade my little apartment for a house in the 'burbs and two hours of commuting per day.

"I think I will finish the Thomson agreement by lunch. Do you have anything urgent?"

"Nothing urgent, but if you could review the wording on these two non-disclosure agreements and modify them as appropriate, that would be great. Also, could you confirm with our lawyer if the changes he emailed are final, and if so, accept them in the document and send out clean copies for execution."

Frank's day went about as well as he expected. A meeting was followed by a conference call, email followed email.

Instead of lunch, Frank spent an hour in the gym on the first floor. He did that three times a week. Other days, he usually just worked through lunch.

In the afternoon he was making good progress on getting things out of the way. Mary, as usual, was on time with everything she promised. Others were not as obliging. Frank had to juggle schedules.

The following Saturday evening, Angela dragged him to a nightclub. Dragged, because Frank was not normally into nightlife. He was a prodigy in school, college and grad school, completing his dissertation at twenty one, but at a cost to his social life.

Since they met, Angela had been a leader in social endeavors. She loved to dance, enjoyed going to concerts, and bought weird (to Frank) music to play in his car.

"Come on, Mr. Stuffy! Let's go!" she said as she was changing into her party clothes.

"I was hoping to finish my book today." Frank was in the middle of a science fiction trilogy.

"Do it some other time. The music at the Centurion is pretty good. I want to dance!" insisted Angela.

She came out holding something filmy and green in her hands that was probably a piece of apparel designed to entice rather than conceal. Of course, she hadn't put it on yet, so her gorgeous body was barely covered by skimpy underwear.

When she added her playful smile, Frank crumbled. "All right, you talked me into it! But I won't like it!" Frank said in a sing-song voice, sticking out his lower lip.

"Hey, remember the last vacation when we traveled to Utah? I go with you hiking on dirt paths, drying out my skin in the desert. You can come with me to a dance club!"

"You liked it. You said yourself that looking at stars in the middle of the day was 'the coolest thing'!"

"You are right, the sights were gorgeous, and I did end up enjoying it, particularly Bryce and Zion. And you will like the dancing. Come on, get dressed."

Angela was at home on the dance floor. Her body undulated to the music, and more guys than just Frank leered at her.

Frank, dressed in a suit but no tie as a concession to the heat in the club, was stiff. "You make me look like a mannequin," shouted Frank into Angela's ear.

"A man is required to make his lady look graceful," grinned Angela, and spun away.

With a couple of drinks, Frank became more flexible, and let his body move with the music. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or hearing damage that made the thumping noise sound almost pleasant. He was sweating, and Angela was glowing with a sheen of perspiration. It made her look even more enticing.

Afterwards, as they drove home Frank grumbled with exaggerated irritation, "How do I let myself be talked into these things? It's almost one o'clock. I won't have time to read, just shower and bed."

Angela wasn't taken in. "What? Not even a little play in bed? You were pretty frisky with your hands the last dance. And didn't I see you smile when that little brunette cowgirl rubbed against you?" Angela was grinning.

"Well, the stage was so crowded, I am sure she had no choice but to bump into me. Well, maybe just a little play. I wouldn't want to leave my girlfriend unsatisfied."

"That's right, buster. Otherwise I just might get insecure. All those girls dig a young, handsome, professional guy; an older woman like me gets nervous. I am telling you, in your expensive suit and your graying temples, you look like hot property. If I hadn't stuck to you, the chicks would have been inviting you over for a nightcap."

They continued the banter until they got to bed. Then, as Angela knew, both of them took out their excitement on each other. There was no foreplay, they both rushed through stripping and went at it. Frank growled as he jumped on his lover and brushed the head of his cock up and down her slit. Angela was wet, and he pushed in almost immediately. They synchronized their humping in seconds and were knocking against each other violently. Frank came first, and as he did, he pushed in and rubbed his pelvis up and down. That was enough to bring Angela to her own climax, and they gripped each other tightly for a minute, breathing heavily.

Falling asleep after a brief shower, Frank knew he'd have a tough time getting up in a few hours.

Frank decided to go to work on Sunday to catch up. As he was driving to work, still a bit tired from the previous night, Frank was glad that Angela insisted on dancing. Left to his own devices, he would never go dancing, and he enjoyed doing it occasionally. Just not too often: his ears were still ringing that morning.

Frank was tired when he got home, but the sight of Angela perked him up. Angela was very pretty, but it was her smile that always got Frank. Angela could look like she was eager to play, and challenged you to join her naughty game. Whether a romp in bed, or running naked through the snow to the hot tub, Frank could not resist that grin.

"So where are you taking me next Friday? I need to know how to dress," Angela asked.

"I have reservations at Sam's Steakhouse. They don't have a dress code; you can be casual."

"Yum! I love their steaks. Probably just as well they are so expensive, otherwise I would be there all the time, getting fat and raising my cholesterol.