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Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.
Alma left the Great Smokies area that day, several days earlier than planned. I wondered if she regretted that, after the night she and Paul had. I would’ve, but guess what: it was now just me and Paul, at my house, and clothing was definitely optional. We twined together like teenagers, rutted like minks–well, I shouldn’t overstate it, we settled into something of a domestic routine, if I’m truthful. The realization that I would have Paul for only a short time still preyed on me, but I was beginning to get a better idea of the schedule facing us.
It began to look like Alma would be somewhat scarce in the neighborhood. I was thrilled on one level, but when I compared her to the crowd clearly waiting to get Paul into their clutches once he got to campus, I felt Alma deserved more time with the willing, easygoing–and breathtakingly gorgeous–young man.
Regret or no, a couple of evenings after leaving the lakeside retreat, Alma called Paul. Paul’s cell provider is stronger than mine, so he was able to take her call.
It was after dinner, and we were on the couch with a little wine, when his incoming call tone chimed. He looked at his phone and said, “Oh, it’s Alma!”
I raised my eyebrows, but not in surprise.
“Alma?” he said. “Hi!” he said in a cute sing-song. “Wow, I’ve been doing nothing but think about you.” I smiled at him. Put the woman first in a relationship. If the relationship is going to be personal at all, always put her first.
“Sure I have!…So how are you doing?…Well, I miss you too…” Gently he said, “Hey, stop saying that, I do miss you.”
As this progressed I stood in front of Paul, who sat on the couch. Getting his attention, I pointed at the phone and brought my finger to my lips so he’d mute. He said, “Alma? Sorry, can you hold on for one second? I’ll be right back.”
“Real quickly, Paul,” I said, “I think Alma’s looking for phone sex. Well, whether or not she’s conscious of looking for it, you should give it to her.”
He thought of this for literally a second. “Yeah, okay, you’re probably right,” he said.
I grabbed his arm and led him to the stairs, headed for my bedroom. On the way, I said,”Okay, once you think she’s ready, I want you to boss her around. If you take a firm hand, it will be a lot easier for her. Ask her what she’s wearing, make her take it off, then make her touch herself, imagining it’s you doing it. Stuff like that.”
He looked at me, smirking a little. We situated ourselves on my (our) bed.
“All right, stud,” I said, “you’re on.” I lay close next to him, so I could listen to the conversation.
“Uh, Alma?” he said, “sorry about that. I was just, well, I was just lying down on my bed.”
“Oh!” She sounded surprised, which is curious, if you assume she wanted to get intimate with Paul.
“Yeah,” Paul said, “I’m lying here…Vera’s on her laptop, I…think she’s watching a movie.”
I gave him a thumb’s up.
“Oh,” came Alma’s reply.
Paul said, “So, I was saying how I really do miss you. I mean, you were here and now you’re gone.”
“Oh,” Alma said, “you must know how sorry I am about that. I have some things I have to take care of here in Charlotte.”
“Do you know when you’ll be back up this way?” I loved it. Paul was whining to get Alma back. He was perfect.
“Oh,” she sighed. Exasperated. “It isn’t settled yet.”
“Well,” Paul said. “Here we are talking anyway. I like hearing your voice.”
“Oh Paul…” Her voice got deep when she said his name. She sighed again. “You’re so kind.”
He asked her about her day and she gave him specifics and generalities both. She mentioned being glad to be in her home there, back where her things are.
“So where are you right now?” Paul asked her. “In your living room?”
“Yes, on the couch.”
“Alma,” Paul said, “do me a favor and go to your bedroom and lie down on your bed. Please.”
“Ohh…” I couldn’t tell if Alma were hesitating or getting excited. She grunted a little as she got herself to her feet. In a few moments she said, “OK, I’m on my bed.”
“Are you on the sheets, honey?” Paul asked.
“Oh, wait a minute.” More muffled activity. “OK.”
“Oh, you are such a doll,” Paul said. “I love thinking about how you look lying there.” We heard her breathing. “You’re a very sexy woman, Alma. I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me.”
A deep sigh from her. She was definitely getting into it.
In his most intimate voice, he asked, “So, what are you wearing, beautiful?”
She gasped and breathed out her words. “My, my light nightgown.”
“The one that I like so much?” Paul said. “You knew that would drive me crazy. Did you put it on just to tell me you were wearing it?”
I was amazed at Paul’s skill. For someone winging it, he was a natural at this, too. My gosh! By the way, I was alternating feeling my pussy, which was now very wet, with stroking Paul’s cock with my fluids. His breath was quickening too. I guess that made three of us.
“Yes,” Alma said, her breath short, and almost sounding shallow.
“Oh,” Paul said, “you’re such a sweet girl. Mm! My cock likes it too…” Of course it was me stroking him. “But I want you to sit up and take it off for me. I want to think about your skin.”
Alma gasped, and there was more rustling. Between breaths she said, “Okay it’s off.”
“And you’re naked?”
“Mmm, very nice,” Paul said. “Mmm, I like thinking about you with no clothes on.”
A fluttering breath from Alma.
“Now, sweetheart,” Paul said, “I want you to put your phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it, okay? And I’m going to do the same.”
The sound of her voice changed when she said, “Okay, I’m on speaker.”
“Good,” Paul said. “Can you hear me all right?”
“I hear you fine.”
“SUCH a doll!” Paul said. I think we could hear her giggling. “Now…” Paul’s voice found a lovely deep register, so intimate and sexy. “I want you to trace around your nipples on those beautiful breasts of yours…imagine I’m doing it with my tongue.”
“Oh!” Alma said, and her breathing picked up.
“Hold my head,” Paul said, as he made a kissing sound, “as I kiss your wonderful breasts and nipples.” His voice was a lovely low purr–SO fucking hot!
Now Alma’s breathing was getting ragged.
“Oh, Alma,” said Paul, “you sound SO sexy!”
A little whimper on the other end.
“I’ve got a surprise, now, sweetheart.” Paul said. “Mmm, I’m putting my lips right on your lovely sex.” He made a sound with his lips and tongue. “Feel that, sweetheart. Put your fingers there, feel my lips kiss your beautiful private parts. Mmm, feel them…I remember how you look and feel, Alma, sweetheart, and God! do I want to be there in your bed to taste you again.” I was absently stroking Paul while he was saying these things, but I was soaking and started to run my fingers over my own sex. The hell with it. To keep from making any noise, I grabbed a belt from my dresser to bite down on.
Meanwhile, Alma’s breathing had reached a new crisis. Suddenly she cried out, “OH! OH! Nnnnngh!!” Her breathing was fully orgasmic.
“Did you just come, Alma?” Fluttering, heavy breathing over the phone. “Did you? I hope you did,” Paul said.
Alma’s breathing slowed a little. She managed “Mm-hmm.”
I slid my mouth over Paul’s beautiful hard cock and used all my skills on him. “Oh!” he gasped. Through his breathing he said, “I’m so glad! I loved hearing that. It made me so hard!”
More heavy breathing from Alma.
“Think of me, sweetheart,” Paul said, “how hard I get for you. That’s how hard I am right now.” Paul started to grunt and gasp as I brought him close to the edge. “God you make me hard!”
“Oh, Paul!” Alma’s breathing indicated she was stroking herself with purpose. It got shallow and very rapid.
Paul shot his load but kept his head. “Oh, Alma!” he shouted as he spurt and spurt into my mouth, down my throat.
Alma made several high-pitched sounds that kind of evolved into growls as she reached another sweet climax. Now they were both breathless and quiet.
Paul went first. “Did you come again, gorgeous? You’re so hot! I can’t wait to see you again.”
Alma whimpered again, and sighed, “Oh, Paul…”
They drifted into aftermath-type conversation, and giving up the call turned into lamentations of the lovelorn–I got a little tired of it. So tired, in fact, that I demanded Paul pay attention to the lady on his bed with him–me. His visit with Alma apparently had him all revved up, because after he ended the call he quickly ripped down my shorts and undies. He started kissing and rubbing his lips on my sex as I flopped back on the bed.
I only gave out a surprised “Oh!” and then I spread my legs wide for him. He found me wet and willing, more so than usual. I held his head to me and after a few determined strokes with his tongue, began to coax my clit out from hiding. Oh, dear readers, it didn’t take long! I was ready to crash over into oblivion and my darling young stud made sure it happened–emphatically. In only a few moments, I was approaching the precipice, oh Jesus I loved the delicious charge toward orgasm, so lovely in its own right. Paul held my ass in his two hands and worked his lips and tongue on me; my breathing shallowed to desperate gasps–Oh!– there it was again, the point of pure certainty, really the first utterly indescribable instants of orgasm, and then the convulsions, the waves of ecstasy, following a few breathtaking seconds later, and rocking my hips, my thighs and torso, shaking me from head to toe, when I forget everything in a libidinous, rapturous ride. I wheezed and gasped, holding Paul’s face against me. I rocked and thrust by hips against him, sailing on the delicious sensation of his tongue, lips, and hard-pressed face. Whether he could breathe or not did not enter my mind.
Slowly I returned from my memorable peak. My breathing tried to head back to normal; finally I had to hold his beautiful face away from me, finished for the moment. Or so I thought. Because he then knelt between my legs and rubbed his cock on me, its underside along my clit, long, lovely strokes that I could only moan along with.
“Are you hard again?” I asked him, still breathing hard. “You are a horny thing!”
The delectable stroking only become more insistent. He said, “You make me crazy! I just want you all the time!” With that he slipped his very stiff cock easily inside me.
I made a surrendering little whimper even as he climbed above me and began to fuck me with purpose. He held himself up at arm’s length; I watched his gorgeous torso as he thrust–hard and harder! I wrapped my legs around him and held on. I could feel my belly and boobs quaking rhythmically with his desperate thrusting. I could feel his eyes on them, on me.
He lowered himself to me and we felt the flesh of our torsos meld together, yet another delicious sensation. Paul ground into me with each thrust; as I focused on the feeling of his pubic bone against mine and as I let everything else drain from my mind, it became easier to just…hang on for the ride. After a couple of minutes of Paul’s sweating energetic fucking, I felt yet another climax approaching. I held tight and angled my clit for direct stimulation. My shallow, rasping breathing matched Paul’s, and he started thrusting even faster. I yelled out when a flash hit my vision and lightning struck in my clit, a coup strong enough to shake me all over. My body shook me and shook as each sensational wave coursed in me and through me. I held Paul in a death grip; his thrusting suddenly stopped at its deepest point against me and he growled through his own orgasm; he picked up the thrusting again, as hard as ever, and his hopeless whining “Oh! Oh! Oh-oh! Unngh!” added to my chaotic sexual fog.
We clung to each other, breathing over each other’s shoulder. Paul surprised me with irregular gentle thrusts every few seconds; I shivered with an orgasmic echo every time. Our bodies stayed united, our wetness a beautiful thing, the affirmation of our passion and performance.
Our breathing slowed and the feeling of our bodily union faded and it was time to uncouple. Before we broke apart, though, I took Paul’s face in both my hands and kissed him deeply.
The following morning the land line rang. Paul and I were recuperating, having a lazy day with a hazy agenda. I was not entirely sure who it was.
“Vera, good morning, it’s Alma calling.”
“Alma,” I said, “how nice to hear from you.”
“Thank you, Vera,” Alma said. “You’re well, I trust?”
“Very well, thank you.” I looked at Paul. To Alma I said, “I’m sorry, could you hold on for one second, dear? I need to take care of something. Be right back.” I muted my phone.
To Paul I said, “I think it would be better all around if I told Alma about us. A lot easier for you, especially.”
Paul tentatively shook his head. “I don’t want to get her feelings hurt…”
“Well,” I said, “she doesn’t know about us yet, and now that you’ve spent the night with her, it seems only fair. And it’ll make your life a lot easier, sweetie.”
Paul didn’t look too happy. “Look, Paul,” I said, “think what it will be like trying to keep it from her. It’d be even harder than hiding what will be going on with Nora and everybody at the school.”
He made a tilt of the head, relenting.
Unmuting, I said, “Sorry about that. I had to take the bacon off the heat. Listen, Alma,” I said, taking a breath, “I wanted to come clean about having Paul staying here with me. I know you’re quite fond of him and I understand that completely. I know he spent the night with you over the weekend…well, he and I…”
“You don’t have to explain, Vera,” she said. “There was something about you two when you came over for supper…” I waited. “And I keep thinking about how he’ll be leaving to go to school…I’m just glad he’s here by the lake, with the two of us, for the summer.”
Well, knock me over with a feather! I said, “I…I’m surprised about your easy-going feelings over this.”
“What would hard feelings accomplish?” she asked. “After I thought about it–this is when you left Paul at my place–I thought, Well why wouldn’t they become close? I just came to the conclusion that getting worked up over it was going to be a big waste of energy and opportunity.”
“Well,” I said, “once again, Alma, that’s impressive and big-hearted of you.”
“Well, you know what, Vera?” she said. “It feels good to have it out in the open, and I hope we can accommodate each other and Paul for the time being.”
“Amen, Alma,” I said. “I feel better about it all around. And I think from talking to Paul about it, everything will be okay with him.”
“Good,” she said, “and so this next part of the call should be easy.”
“Yes,” Alma said, “I called to check with you and Paul about something. You remember Miranda, from the picnic lunch, and her little daughter?”
“Taylor was her name, wasn’t it?” I said. “Sure I remember.”
“Miranda called this morning,” Alma said, “asking whether Paul would like a visit from Taylor. She’s apparently heard about nothing but Paul ever since…We can kind of understand that.”
“Alma, I’m putting you on speaker–one second,” I said. “Can you hear us okay?”
“I hear you fine.”
“Paul,” I said, “Alma got a call this morning from Miranda–you remember little Taylor’s mother?”
“Sure,” Paul said.
“Well,” I said, “Taylor hasn’t given her mom a moment’s peace about coming back for a visit to see you. You’re a popular dude. Can you imagine?”
Paul smiled. “I’d love to see Taylor again.”
“Oh, good,” Alma said. “I wanted to coordinate with you all and get a schedule set up for them.”
I said, “Would it work for you, Alma, if you just gave us Miranda’s number and let us set everything up? It would relieve you of some work.”
“Oh yes,” Alma said thrilled with the idea, “that would be fine.”
I added, “Once we’re set up, Paul will text you the specifics, OK?” Paul nodded to me.
“Marvelous,” Alma said.
Paul picked up the phone a moment later. He said, “Hello, Miranda? This is Paul Wheatley–we met at Alma’s house on the lake?…Hi! I’m doing really well, thank you…We got a phone call from Alma about your wanting to come back up to the lake…Would tomorrow work for you and Taylor?…Cool…Well, sure, put her on…” Here his voice took on a more sing-song aspect: “Taylor? Hi! It’s Paul!…Has your mom mentioned coming to the lake tomorrow? Wow, I’m really looking forward to seeing you…I missed you too, a lot…Well, I don’t know, exactly, we’ll just have to explore and see what we find!…Good bye, see you tomorrow…Miranda? Hi, okay, hold on.” He gave me his phone so I could give Miranda directions. I suggested an overnight stay if Miranda could swing it; why make that drive twice in a day? I could hear Miranda try not to sound too excited, but the prospect was too good to turn down. She was effusive with her thanks.
Paul and I agreed he’d give up his room (which he didn’t use anyway) to Miranda and Taylor, and we’d set him up out on the back porch with a sleeping bag and an air mattress. Miranda and Alma were acquainted through their church, after all.
Miranda pulled her minivan in to the driveway midmorning, amid the usual dust and gravel crunch. She’d barely got parked when Taylor threw her door open, threw herself out, and threw herself into Paul’s arms. He’d knelt down when he saw her approach. She didn’t even spare a squeal or a yell or anything. She and Paul wordlessly held onto each other until Paul said, “Hiya, sweetheart…How’s my darlin’?” She indicated how she was: she just held on.
I approached Miranda who had opened the rear door to retrieve a couple of bags.
“Hello, welcome!” I said as I approached.
She smiled and said, “Vera! Thanks so much for your hospitality.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You’re entirely welcome in my home.”
She secured her car and we turned and looked at Paul and Taylor. Paul had just stood up. He said, “Looks like we’re headed for the lake.”
I could see that on the surface Miranda was glad to be here but as soon as the greetings were out of the way, her eyes stayed down, her face clouded. I got the sense every action took concentrated effort; she was barely able to keep her sunny outward disposition.
“All right,” Miranda said, “y’all take care now. Taylor, you be a good girl and mind what Paul tells you.”
Miranda looked awfully cute in a sleeveless blouse, dark blue shorts, and sandals. Or she would have if her personality could come through.
“I doubt there’s going to be much on Taylor’s mind,” I said, “besides what Paul tells her.”
Miranda looked at the two. “I b’lieve you’ve got that right. My goodness, I don’t doubt but that she tossed and turned all night.”
I showed her to her room and we stashed their gear. “I can understand her being excited to see Paul,” I said. “Anybody who likes boys would be, I think.”
Miranda raised her eyebrows in assent. “He’s sure a fine-looking boy.”
I walked her back to the kitchen. “How about a glass of white and a visit to the lake ourselves?”
“Oh Lord,” she said, “you’ve said some magic words right there.”
We arrived at a shady bench with a nice view of the lake. My property didn’t have as nice a lakefront as the minister’s retreat, but it had shade and was very quiet. Paul and Taylor were wading in the shallow water peering down into it. Taylor noticed us seated not far away and waved.
“Hello, darlin’!” Miranda called. To me she said, “My, I’d forgotten just how handsome a young man Paul is.”
“He’s a looker, that’s for sure,” I said.
We watched the two get reacquainted in the world of the lakefront; we engaged in the kind of chatting that does nothing but show friendliness toward one another. At least I did. Miranda mostly inspected the dirt around her feet.
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