Kinky Confessions

Chapter 23

Parts of my life settled into a routine—the parts that I controlled, at least, like homework and studying and my project for Joska. Other parts were less predictable—anything that involved Christy, for instance. I privately called her Little Miss Chaos, although her disruptions were usually more creative than destructive, and certainly a lot more fun than my life would’ve been otherwise.

Along those lines, I realized that I enjoyed ballroom dancing. I even decided to give up judo, since I didn’t have time for both. Besides, sparring had never been the same after Glen had left for the Army. So I channeled my aggression into dance instead. Much to my surprise, I discovered that mental focus and physical exertion were just as relaxing on a dance floor as a judo mat.

A small part of me missed the thrill of scoring points on a better opponent or winning a tough match, but not enough to trade Christy’s happiness for my own. Besides, my dance partner was more attractive than any of my sparring partners had been, and no one freaked out if we had good chemistry.

Christy enjoyed the dancing itself, but playing dress-up was a big part of it too. All the female dancers wore high heels and skirts or dresses, even for practice. She also enjoyed the snacks, since I had to feed her before and after practice. She burned a lot of energy twirling around the dance floor, and my duffel bag was usually full of granola bars, fresh fruit, and baggies of nuts, raisins, and the usual assortment of bunny-type veggies.

She always had more energy after dance practice (as long as I fed her on the way home), and that translated directly to her sex drive. At first I thought

she was rewarding me for joining the dance team, but then I realized she needed the release of an orgasm—hers or mine, it didn’t seem to matter. I jokingly told myself that if we ever broke up, I’d suffer blue balls within hours.

I also started paying more attention to her body and the calendar. I worried that we might’ve messed up danger week or that pre-come had gotten her pregnant, but her period arrived exactly when it was supposed to, and it made her even hornier than usual.

“Mmm, deep throat practice,” she said the first night. She climbed into bed and threw back the covers. “I need to call Erin,” she mused as she stroked my cock to life. “Can she take you all the way?”

“Not quite.”

“Can your mom?”

I silently marveled at how easily she’d adjusted to the new reality.

“I bet she can,” she said before I could answer. “Your dad’s bigger than you are. His penis. It’s longer, I mean. I know you’re self-conscious about your size. I don’t know why. You’re bigger than most guys, and I think you’re perfect. Obviously. But where was I? Oh, right. Your mom. Can she deep throat you? All the way?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. Susan too, right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

She frowned in thought. “I think it’s the thickness. That causes me problems, I mean. I’m so small, even my mouth. I’m not afraid of holding my breath or anything like that, but I can’t seem to get it into my throat.” She made another dizzying leap. “Hold on, can Leah?”

“No. She has a pretty strong gag reflex. I guess that’s why she enjoys the taste more than the delivery.”

“It’s a good thing I love both,” Christy said. “And it’s a good thing I don’t have a strong gag reflex. I was talking to Brooke about it—her mother has a couple of sex books, and I asked her to look it up for me. Brooke, not her mother.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “I kinda figured.”

“Right. So, I asked her about it. She read me what it said in the book, but it’s all generic stuff like ‘relax your throat’ and ‘don’t force it.’ What good is that? I need examples! Step by step! Diagrams!” She screwed up her face in concentration. “I think we’ll have to watch the movie, too. Like, a thousand

times. It doesn’t really give any instructions, though.”

She gripped my hard-on and looked up at me with manic eagerness. “Do you think we can put an ad in the back of one of those magazines? You know, something like, ‘Enterprising young lady seeks instruction in the art of sword swallowing. Female instructors only, please. Send application and references to Box 69, Knoxville, Tennessee, um…’ Hold on, what’s our zip code again?”

I chuckled and told her.

“Right! Thanks. ‘Send application and references to Box—’ Hey, why’re you laughing? I’m serious about this. I’m an enterprising young lady!”

“And you have a sword to swallow,” I added as seriously as I could.

“Darn right I do. I wanna be the best little cocksucker ever. At least where you’re concerned. What? Don’t look so surprised. I know the word.

‘Cocksucker.’ See? I said it again. Besides,” she continued before I could even laugh, “this is all new and exciting. No one’s ever asked me to deep throat before.” She had a sudden thought and shuddered theatrically. “Thank goodness, too! Can you imagine if Tom had wanted me to?

“No, of course you can’t,” she said. “You don’t know who he is. But if you must know, he was my boyfriend before Blake, who was my first official boyfriend. You don’t know him either, but he was before Simon. So there.

Now you know all my boyfriends. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, Tom! He was huge. And I don’t mean like Terri’s boobs, but huge-huge. Like, the size of my forearm. It was enormous, Paul! I could barely fit the head in my mouth.”

She stopped and finally drew a breath. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I guess it’s ’cause I know you like hearing about it. Mr. Big gets bigger every time I mention fellatio, even if it’s with another guy. I don’t know why I’m chattering, either. Maybe I have too much energy or something. Hold on, leakage.” She licked the tip of my cock and then savored the taste. “There, much better. You always know what to say to get me to relax.”

I hadn’t said a thing for over a minute, but I wasn’t about to point that out.

“Mmm, yummy pre-come. Now I’m hungry again. Are you ready, Mr.

Big? I’m not very good at deep throat yet, but I’m very determined. Thank you for being patient. What’s that? I talk too much? I should be sucking?

Mmm, okay!”

I went to the airport on Saturday and flew the Baron for a couple of hours with Earl. I’d combined the training for my multi-engine rating and commercial certificate, but it was still going to cost a small fortune. Earl read my expression as I handed him a check for the day’s lesson and plane rental.

“Not that I’m trying to lose your business,” he said, “but have you thought about this?”

“Obviously not. And I just did the math.”

“Uh-huh.” He brandished the check. “You’ll have to write several more just like it. Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but… can you afford it? You don’t seem like the trust fund type.”

“I’m not, but I can afford it.”

“You mind if I ask how? Are your parents paying?”

“No, I am. I got a huge bonus last summer.” I gave him the broad strokes of the bidding war over the rancher. “So I have plenty of savings, and scholarships pay for school, but… everything else is starting to add up.”

He chuckled. “Welcome to the real world.”

“No kidding.”

“That little girlfriend of yours sounds expensive too. I’m sure she’s worth it,” he added quickly, “but I dunno if flying is. You seem to have your priorities straight, though. Still, I thought I’d ask. I could use the money, but not at the expense of a friend.”

“Thanks, Earl. You’re definitely a friend.” I thought about the lessons and the dent they’d make in my savings. “I can afford it,” I said at last. “And it’s worth it.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then. See you next Saturday.”

“Not next Saturday,” I said. “We’re taking the Comanche to West Virginia on Friday.”

“Oh, that’s right! I saw it on the sheet.”

“But the Saturday after that for sure.”

Christy left for Mass the next morning but came running back after only a few minutes.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you,” she said breathlessly. “Sayuri. Today.

Gifts.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Gifts! You’re inspecting the boarding house today, aren’t you?”

The crew had finished work the week before, and the building inspector was scheduled to visit later in the week.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re headed over in a few minutes. Why?”

“Sayuri’s going to give you gifts after you finish. I meant to tell you sooner, but I forgot. Sorry. Hold on.” She disappeared through the door and I heard her in her old bedroom. She returned after a moment. “Here, this is for her. From you and Trip.” She handed over a long present wrapped in thick blue paper and tied with a maroon ribbon.

My eyebrows rose with curiosity.

“Okay,” Christy explained, “she’s going to give you gifts. Act surprised, but you have to refuse. Tell her you can’t possibly accept anything.”

“Hold on, I thought—”

“Don’t argue, please! This is serious. She’ll offer again, but you need to refuse the second time too. Tell her something polite, like you did the work because you value her friendship. Got it?”

“Seriously?”

“This is how they do it in Japan.”

“But we aren’t in Japan.”

“So? What’s that have to do with anything? Sayuri’s Japanese, and she’s very traditional about some things. This is important to her, so it’s important to you. Now, pay attention.”

Her tone made my eyebrows climb even higher.

“She’ll offer a third time, and she’ll probably say something like—”

Christy muttered something to herself in Japanese. After a moment she translated it as, “It’s a boring little thing, but please accept it.”

“Gee, can I?” I immediately regretted my sarcasm. She was only trying to help, after all. Lucky for me, she ignored it.

“Yes, but use both hands. And bow. Not low or anything, just from the waist. Like this.” She demonstrated and made it look easy. “Oh, and don’t open the gift. Not until you get home. Okay? That’s very important.”

“Why give us a gift if we aren’t supposed to open it?”

“Because the gift isn’t important!” she snapped. “Ugh! Just trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing. Once you accept the gifts— Remember to use both hands. Oh, and tell Trip, so he knows.” She waited until I nodded.

“Okay, once you accept the gifts, give her this.” She gestured at the wrapped package in my hands. “Tell her it’s nothing.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“An ukiyo-e painting of Mount Fuji. I did it last summer while I was in Japan.”

“That isn’t ‘nothing,’” I said.

“No, of course not. It’s very special.”

“Then why say it’s nothing?”

“Because the giving is the important part. You say the gifts are nothing because you care more about the relationship. It’s a ceremony! And for the record, this is one of those times when you drive me crazy. Just shut up and listen, will you?”

“Yes, dear,” I said as contritely as I could.

“Better. And thank you. Anyway, give her the gift. With both hands. Tell her it’s nothing. She’ll refuse, but probably only once. You insist. If she refuses again, you insist again. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said.

“Okay. Let’s go over it again—”

“No. I said I got it.” I repeated the entire process and finished with, “Then we all bow and say goodbye.”

Christy had been nodding along. When I finished, she bounced up, kissed me, and said with a grin, “Daisuki da.”

“What’s that mean?”

“What do you think?”

“Oh. In that case, I love you too.”

“Mmm, I know. But now I really need to go. I’m going to be late as it is, and I don’t want to miss Communion.” She gave me another kiss and ran out with a flash of legs.

I listened to the patter of her shoes as she ran down the stairs and out the front door. Sometimes she drove me crazy as well, but usually in a good way.

Trip stuck his head through the door. “Ready in five minutes?”

“Yep. Be right with you.”

He nodded and headed downstairs. I put on my shoes and picked up the present.

“What’s that?” he asked as we headed out.

“A present.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Who’s it for?”

“Long story.” I said. “I’ll tell you when we’re done.”

We spent the next three hours going over the boarding house, top to bottom, every closet, cupboard, nook, and cranny. We even checked the crawlspace and roof. The crew had done a good job, and we only found a handful of things they needed to fix or redo.

I explained the present and the gift-giving ritual as we walked to Sayuri’s house to deliver our final report.

“Seriously?” Trip said. “We have to refuse? How many times? Never mind. You handle it.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Don’t start that shit with me.” He glared, but it was more friendly than angry. “But since you brought it up… What’s going on with Christy? She ready to join the party? Although,” he mused, “I don’t know when we’ll have time. I mean, we couldn’t even be bothered to plan anything for my birthday.

Wren’s been totally slammed with school, and I don’t know if she’ll hold it together till graduation. She was ready to crack after she found out how much work we’d have to do for that stupid dance class.”

“I thought you liked dancing,” I said.

“I do, but not all that formal nonsense. It’s just an excuse for the girls to play dress-up and pretend to be princesses.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Dude, I’m trying to break Wren of her princess habits. I don’t need some silly dance class giving her ideas.”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Different strokes, I guess.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean? Never mind. I get it. I guess I’m just cranky. Wren’s been so busy lately that she’s been too tired to do anything.”

“Sorry about that.” I paused and tried to decide what I wanted to say next.

I had to be diplomatic. “Um… you know that Christy isn’t the answer, right?”

“I know.” He laughed ruefully. “I guess it’s my turn to be impatient.

Usually it’s Wren. But… you know.”

“Yeah, I do. Maybe you can get away for the weekend? Or… not.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Christy and I are planning to go to West Virginia next weekend. So you

and Wren’ll have the house to yourselves. It might be a good time to plan something, if you know what I mean.”

He nodded and lowered his head in thought. “That isn’t a bad idea. I could really pamper her. Run a hot bath, give her a massage, champagne, roses.”

“Mmm hmm. I think it’d do you both some good.”

“Yeah, good idea. Thanks.”

Sayuri was expecting us. She ushered us inside and to the dining room table. She and Trip went over the problems we’d found. Then they spent some time reviewing the final invoice and pay request.

“Your contractor did good work,” Trip said at last. “You made an excellent choice when you hired him.”

“After my first one was such a bad choice,” she said.

Trip shrugged. “It could happen to anyone. Crooked contractors are good at ripping people off. It’s even happened to me, and I knew better at the time.” He glanced at me and added, “Before your time.”

Sayuri nodded and smiled politely. Then she lifted two small, beautifully wrapped gifts from the chair next to her. Trip glanced at me sideways, so I sat forward.

The exchange followed Christy’s script almost to the letter, and Trip let me negotiate the whole thing. Sayuri didn’t seem a bit surprised that I knew what to do. She didn’t come right out and say it, either, but I got the impression that she strongly approved of Christy’s relationship with me.

Christy herself was waiting for us back home. She looked up nervously when we came through the front door, but she relaxed when she saw the gifts in our hands.

“What do we do with these?” Trip asked me. “I mean, should I even bother opening it?”

“What do you mean?” Christy asked.

“Well, Sayuri kept going on about how it was nothing.”

Christy rolled her eyes and shot me a perturbed look.

“It’s the thought that counts,” I told Trip. “Besides, I’m sure it’s nicer’n you think.”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Christy did her best to hide her annoyance.

“Just open it,” I said.

He tore into the package and then looked slightly unimpressed at the

contents of a small wooden box.

I thought they were pretty—cut-glass cups, one red and one blue—but Christy’s reaction didn’t match mine.

She leaned in and her eyes widened. “Ooh, kiriko.”

“What’s that mean?” Trip said.

“It’s a kind of glass,” she explained. “Handmade. They’re antiques.”

“Handmade? Antique?”

“Mmm.” She took one of the delicate glasses out of the box. She held it up to the light, and even Trip was impressed by the bold color and gentle gradations.

“So… not ‘nothing’?” he said.

“Not nothing,” she agreed.

“Wow. Okay,” he said. “Color me impressed. Get it… ‘color’?”

She gave him a flat look.

“Better leave the puns to me,” I said.

“Whatever,” he said. “Open yours.”

My own gift was a little larger than a deck of playing cards. I opened it and didn’t understand what I was looking at. It was a metal disk with a notch in the center and a pattern of three fan-like leaves engraved in gold. It was interesting, whatever it was, but a total mystery.

“It’s a tsuba,” Christy explained. “A guard for a katana.”

“Like… the sword?”

“Exactly. They’re handed down in samurai families.”

Trip’s eyes widened at the familiar Japanese word. We’d all seen Shōgun on TV, after all.

“It looks like a real one,” Christy added unnecessarily. “This must’ve been in Sayuri’s family for a long time.”

“Hold on,” I said as realization dawned, “d’you mean she just gave me a family heirloom?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Uh…,” Trip said all of a sudden, “I hate to ask, but… what did we give her?”

“Don’t worry,” Christy said, “you gave her something special.”

“Yeah, but what?”

“A piece of art.”

“That’s it?” he said.

She clenched her fists and did her level best not to stomp her foot. Then,

in a very calm voice, she said, “Yes, a piece of art. I painted it last year in the prefecture where Sayuri grew up. It took me three days.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing as Trip tried to backtrack.

“Oh, wow! Okay. That sounds special, all right.”

“I thought so, yes.”

At that point, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He mumbled something about showing his gift to Wren and beat a hasty retreat upstairs.

I waited until he’d gone before I gathered Christy to me.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t know why I let him get to me.”

“Eh, it’s okay. He gets on my nerves sometimes too. Like Wren does to you.”

“And now you know why I’m not in a hurry to… you know.”

“That’s okay too. Neither am I.”

“But… I thought…?”

“That’s the beauty of being in a relationship.” I kissed the top of her head.

“We make decisions together. If one of us isn’t happy, we do things differently.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, we won’t do anything till you’re ready.”

“And what if I’m never ready?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

She sighed and hugged me tighter. “You and your words.”

Christy and I came home from dance practice on Monday and had barely walked through the front door when Trip stuck his head out of his office.

“Hold on,” he said into the phone, “Paul just got home.” He muffled the receiver against his shoulder and said to me, “Let’s chat when you get a chance. It’s important.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Christy gave me a half-annoyed, half-curious look. I sent her into the kitchen with a kiss and a silent promise to tell her later.

“Okay, what’s up?” I asked Trip as I joined him in his office.

He was still on the phone, so he gestured for me to have a seat.

“Yeah, I think I have everything,” he said to the person on the other end of the line. “I’ll talk to Paul and go over my notes and do some revised estimates.” He nodded as the other person said something. “Probably the end of the week. I have a full schedule tomorrow, but I’ll work on it Wednesday.

It’ll only get us in the ballpark, though. We won’t know more until we take a look in person. Will that do? Uh-huh. Okay. Sounds good. We’ll be in touch.”

He hung up, slid down in his chair, and blew out a long breath.

“Susan?” I guessed.

“Yeah. And you’d better sit down.” He realized that I already was. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face and let out another sigh. “God, that was intense.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” He inhaled sharply and sat up. “But you and I need to have a serious discussion.”

“’Bout what?”

“What do you think? The job this summer. Except, ‘this summer’ might be just the start of it.” He moved a plate with the remains of his dinner and then straightened papers as a way to organize his thoughts. “Okay, here’s the situation. Susan got our estimate back in… what?” He found a piece of paper and read the date. “February. Damn. Was it really only two months ago?

Seems like forever. Anyway, she got our estimate and had three local contractors submit bids too. They all came back higher than ours. Like, ten times higher.”

My eyes bugged.

“Right,” he agreed. “Which tells me two things. One, we underestimated the work. And two, Susan expanded the scope. So, here’s what I found out.

Our original estimate was based on your notes and her guesses. Nothing wrong with those, but once she had the local guys look at the job, she realized things were a lot worse than she’d thought. She called it ‘benign neglect,’ but she basically means your friend Jeremiah fixed the surface issues and didn’t address a lot of the underlying problems.”

“Paint over the water stains,” I said with a nod, “but ignore the leak itself.”

“Exactly. So the local contractors found a lot more problems than you or Susan suspected. Your dad sort of told her the same thing. He mentioned all the work you guys did on the electrical service for the clubhouse and said

what a mess it was. The whole camp is like that, evidently.”

“Oh, boy.”

“‘Oh, boy’ is right. So, we underestimated the work. Not our fault, but it happened. The other thing we have to deal with is that Susan expanded the scope of the project based on the local guys’ initial comments. According to them, several of the larger cabins aren’t worth renovating. They have dry rot, water damage, foundation issues, you name it. They’re used less often than the smaller cabins, so they didn’t receive as much maintenance. They’ve just been rotting away for thirty years.

“We agreed it might make more sense to demolish them and rebuild, but she needs to look at her visitor numbers for the past few years to make sure it’s justified. Jeremiah mostly took care of that, and she realized she’s let things slide. But wait, there’s more,” he said before I could reply. “She also wants us to take a look at the new Retreat. The clubhouse and pool are finished, but the bungalows themselves still need work. She was going to have Jeremiah—”

“Gunny,” I interrupted. “Everyone called him Gunny. Only Susan called him Jeremiah.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Trip said, “but she kept saying ‘Jeremiah,’

so I wasn’t sure. Anyway, he was going to oversee the rest of the construction on the bungalows at the Retreat. They’re all in the dry and have finished exteriors, but the interiors still need work. So we’d need to trim them out and install the fixtures. But that’s only the first part of that project.” He took a deep breath before he continued.

“She’s talking about adding six more bungalows if the demand is there.

And she thinks it will be, at least until we can remodel the motel buildings at the main camp. A cinder-block room without a bathroom was fine back when the camp was built,” he explained unnecessarily, “but people expect a few more amenities these days.” He grimaced when he realized who he was talking to. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just repeating a lot of what we discussed.”

“No problem,” I said. “Sounds like you had a lot to talk about.”

He gestured at the pile of paperwork and his copious notes. “Two solid hours. Wren even brought me dinner in here.” He scrubbed a hand over his face again. “Anyway, the bungalows. She wants to add more. We’ll have to finish the existing ones first, though. I told her that you and I can do that ourselves, over the summer. She said that’s fine. She wasn’t ready to open the Retreat for visitors anyway. So we’ll probably have the place to

ourselves.

“But that brings us back to the main camp,” he continued. “She wants to update all the motel rooms with modern amenities. That’s a bigger job because of the plumbing issues.”

I nodded. The motel-style buildings had concrete foundations, which we’d have to jackhammer through if we wanted to add proper sewer lines.

We could simply add raised floors for the bathrooms and run the lines that way, but the buildings didn’t have a wet wall for the water supply lines. So each solution posed a challenge.

“And that gets us to an even bigger part of the expanded scope,” Trip continued. “If she updates the motel rooms, she’ll need to update the clubhouse as well. It’s a patchwork of buildings, she said, that her parents expanded over the years. And if the electrical panel your dad mentioned is any example, the whole thing is probably one big code violation.”

“Not to mention a fire hazard,” I added.

“Right. So she’s talking about a total renovation. Maybe use the existing structure, maybe demo and rebuild. We’ll have to decide.”

I whistled softly.

“Mmm hmm,” Trip said. “She also has several vacant houses from residents who’ve died or moved to nursing homes over the years, people who had long-term leases from her parents’ days. She doesn’t know what she wants to do with them, but we’re already talking about a major camp-wide renovation, so she wants us to take a look at ’em and give her some advice.

“Last but not least, we’ll have to upgrade a lot of camp infrastructure. All this new construction will need power, water, and sewer mains. That’s a long run from the main road. And speaking of roads, we discussed beefing up the camp’s main roads and parking so they can handle heavier RVs. Oh, and she wants to replace the main gate and add some kind of fence around the inside perimeter.” He finally leaned back in his chair and cast a critical eye over his notes.

“She doesn’t think small, does she?” I said rhetorically.

“No. Which is why you and I need to have a serious discussion.” He sat forward, found a note pad, and wrote a dollar figure. Then he circled it and turned the pad so I could see. “That’s what we’re talking about.”

I took one look and immediately furrowed my brow. “Hold on, that’s less than we spent last summer. Well, when you include the cost of the houses themselves. Susan’s job should be ten times that. Probably more.”

Trip shook his head and pursed his lips in a grin.

“Okay,” I said, “what’m I missing?”

He tapped the notepad. “That’s our fee for the job, seven percent of the total budget. It’s what we’ll charge for construction management and doing our part of the work. And now that I think about it, I’ll want to add bonuses if we come in on time and under budget. We’ll have some expenses like travel and a ton of long-distance phone calls, but most of that will be profit.”

I blinked and felt lightheaded.

“Uh-huh. That’s both our shares. And it’s at least a year’s work, maybe more, but still… it’s a lot of money.” He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Although… I’ll be honest, it scares the shit out of me. It’s larger than any job I’ve done before, by a huge margin. And it’s more construction management than hands-on work. Yeah, we’ll still get our hands dirty, but for the major jobs we’ll be acting as contractors more than foremen. Hell, we’ll be managers.

“And you’ll get a chance to do what you do best,” he added with a significant look, “especially if we decide to rebuild the larger cabins instead of just demolishing them. Throw in the clubhouse and the vacant houses and you have even more work. Actual design work.” He paused to let it all sink in. “So, what do you think?”

“I… don’t know,” I said honestly. “It scares me too.”

“No shit. For the first time in my life, I have serious doubts if I have what it takes to accomplish something. That scares me more than anything. But…

I’m not sure I can walk away from that kind of money.” He gestured at the notepad again, in case I’d somehow forgotten how much we were talking about.

“Susan said she wouldn’t even consider hiring us if I weren’t scared. And she’s right. I’m scared because I understand what a huge job this is, and how easily we could screw it up. I don’t wanna cost her tens of thousands of dollars—maybe hundreds of thousands—and leave her in the same position Sayuri’s first contractor left her. You know?”

“No kidding. I’d never forgive myself if I did to camp what that idiot did to Sayuri.”

“Exactly,” Trip agreed. “So we need to think long and hard before we make a serious offer. I’ll have to run the numbers and do some preliminary planning, but I think we can make it work. I definitely wanna talk to Blackie and Mike Senior and some other guys I know. If nothing else, I wanna

confirm my initial thinking. And we need to see for ourselves before we do anything.”

I nodded and automatically started designing things in my head.

Trip interrupted and said, “I thought about flying over this weekend, but you have your West Virginia thing. Wren and I have plans here. I may be crazy to think about taking this job, but I’m not crazy enough to cancel our weekend plans. We both need the time to, ahem, relieve some pressure. The girls too.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“So I was thinking…,” Trip said. “The weekend after next is Easter, an

—”

“Uh-uh, sorry. Christy and I are flying to San Diego to visit her family.”

“Okay, then… when?” He pulled out a calendar. “How ’bout the last weekend in April.”

I closed my eyes and imagined my own schedule. “That should work.

But… is it soon enough?”

“It should be,” he said. “We’ll have to do the job in phases anyway. The first one is to finish the Retreat. While we’re doing that, we can plan the other phases.” He ticked them off with his fingers. “Cabin renovations and demolition on the larger ones. Maybe new construction, depending on the numbers from Susan. Then we have the new bungalows, the motel rooms, the clubhouse, and finally the vacant houses. Oh, and infrastructure. We’ll spend most of the summer just figuring out what to do and then planning and scheduling it.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s a lot of work.”

“I know. And we’ll have to do it in addition to school and everything else. That’s why it scares me. But I’m serious, I don’t know if I can walk away from that much money. And that’s just my ballpark estimate. I ran it past Susan, though, and she said it’s in line with her budget and the estimates she got from the local guys. So, what do you think? Can we handle it?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Neither do I. But I’m willing to agree to the first part, the Retreat. Then we can spend the summer looking at the other parts of the project. If it’s too big for us, we’ll tell Susan, and she can get a real construction company to handle it. Well, our little company’s real enough, but you know what I mean

—a bigger company, one with the resources to do the job right.”

He studied me intently for a moment, and I hoped my expression didn’t

show how nervous I felt. Unfortunately, he saw right through me.

“Yeah, me too,” he admitted. “I have butterflies the size of 747s in my stomach. I’m literally terrified. But part of me thinks we can do this!”

I laughed. “I know what you mean. Yeah, I’m scared, but I’m excited too.”

“Let’s talk to the girls about it. We can’t make a decision like this without their input.”

“No.”

“’Cause it affects them. Besides, I think they’ll enjoy part of it. Susan’s talking about doing some marketing to attract more visitors. That’s Wren’s wheelhouse. And all the new buildings will need art and decorations. That’s Christy’s department. So…,” he said after a moment, “are you up for it?”

“Honestly? No, I wanna run screaming. But… yeah. Let’s go for it.”

“I was hopin’ you’d say that. Sure, it’s a lot of work, but you’re the one who asked if extra work bothered me.”

“Crap! I did, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh. But it’s also a lot of money, and I mean a lot. We’ll double our income from last year, and that’s accounting for it being a longer project.” He sat back and grinned at me. Then he opened the bottom desk drawer and took out two glasses and a fancy decanter of Jack Daniel’s. “I keep some of the good stuff in here. Seems appropriate to toast our new venture.”

He unstoppered the decanter and poured two fingers’ worth into each glass.

“Holy crap,” I said as the enormity of what we were talking about finally hit me.

“‘Holy crap’ is right.” He raised his glass and touched it to mine. “To success… and a fat bank account.”

We discussed the entire plan with Wren and Christy, although we didn’t go into detail like we had with each other. Still, we made sure they understood it would be an ongoing project, probably for the next year at least. Wren wasn’t uninterested, but she didn’t ask many questions. She clearly had a lot on her mind and wasn’t thinking beyond graduation. Christy was more involved but mostly deferred to me. She saved her real questions for later, as we were

getting ready for bed.

“Do you think he can do it?” she asked.

“Trip? Yeah, I’m sure he can. I’m more worried about me. That’s a lot of responsibility, and I’m just a college student. I’m not even a real architect.”

She immediately set aside her lotion and sat on the bed, where she took my hand and ducked to look me in the eye. “You’re a real architect,” she said. “And you can do this. I know you can. I’ve seen you work, remember?”

“Yeah, but that’s designing things. It’s just pretty pictures in my head. It isn’t real construction or real deadlines or real money.”

“But you act like it is. I used to think you were a little silly for how serious you were, but now I see why.”

“Architecture’s a serious business for serious people.”

“Exactly.”

“But this is a bit more serious than I’m ready for.”

“You’re ready. Besides, no one loves the camp more than you do. You’re the only one who can do this. None of the others care. It’s just a job to them, another project in a whole bunch of projects.”

“You’re right about that.”

“Of course I am,” she said. “And I’m right about this.”

I nodded slowly.

“Besides, this is one of those things you’ll regret the rest of your life if you don’t at least try. So it’s settled? We’re going to do it?”

“We?”

“Of course, ‘we’! We’re partners, remember? You said so.”

“It’ll mean a lot of work,” I said. “And maybe a lot of time apart. This summer won’t be so bad, but next year’ll be pretty busy. Trip and I talked about it before we told you and Wren. He’ll probably do all the scheduling and management, which means I’ll be doing the site visits.”

“You can do it,” she insisted. “Besides, I’ll go with you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I told you, I won’t let anything come between us. Not even a huge construction project. Now, let me finish my routine. Then I’ll convince you properly.”

“Sounds good. But… I might need a lot of convincing. It’s a very big job.”

“Of course it is. And you’re just the man to do it. But… are we still talking about the construction project?”

I grinned. “You tell me.”

“You’re such a pervert. And I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Mmm, I know.” She leaned in and kissed me. “Now, let me finish.

And… um…?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe you can play with your own big project while you’re waiting?”

I chuckled. “You just wanna watch me jerk off, don’t you?”

“So sue me.”

“I’d rather use you instead.”

“Mmm, yes, please. But in a minute! I need to finish. I wanna look nice for you in ten years.”

“Better plan on twenty,” I said.

On Friday, Christy and I packed for our trip to West Virginia and then drove to campus for dance class. My original plan was to leave for the airport immediately after ballroom practice, but I didn’t account for Little Miss Chaos.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said before practice even started. “Do you mind if we give Terri a ride home? She usually walks by herself, and it’s a little scary to be a woman alone at night.”

“No problem. Where’s she live?”

“I don’t know. Not exactly, I mean. Somewhere in the Fort.”

“Sure.”

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll tell her.” She grabbed her duffel bag and ran toward the locker room to change into her dress and heels.

I chatted with a couple of the other guys until everyone was ready and the coaches started practice.

“Thank you,” Terri said as she joined me. “I hope it doesn’t mess up your plans.”

“Not at all,” I fibbed. “Where d’you live?”

She told me.

“Seriously? That’s around the block from us. We’re on Highland. I pass by your place every morning.”

She frowned. “Really? Why? It’s the opposite direction from campus.”

“I run in the morning, before school.”

“Ah, okay. No wonder you’re in such good shape.”

“I used to be pudgy,” I admitted. “I lost a lot of baby fat when I started working out. I don’t ever wanna get it back.”

“I don’t think you will. You’re lean and muscular now.”

“Thanks.”

“Besides, dance is a good workout.”

“No kidding. And more fun than judo.”

“What?” she teased. “You don’t like being thrown around by a sweaty guy?”

“When the alternative is you? Ha! No, I’ll take dance any day.”

She rolled her eyes at the obvious come-on, and I reminded myself to tone down the flirting.

“Speaking of which,” I said, “what’re we working on today?”

She was still teaching me the basics, while the main group practiced more complicated moves.

“The tango,” Terri said. “Turns and close embrace.”

“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”

“Let me talk to the other coaches and get my things,” Terri said when practice ended. “Then I’ll be ready. Five minutes?”

“No problem,” I said.

Christy grabbed her own duffel bag and headed my way as most of the other women disappeared into the locker room or sat on benches to take off their high heels. Christy usually changed into walking shoes as well, but she didn’t need to bother, since we were driving straight to the airport. She clicked to a stop in front of me and grinned.

“What?” I said, a little self-consciously.

“You’re cute when you’re feeling guilty.”

“Guilty? About what?”

“Flirting with Terri.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, I noticed. She has a major crush. Oh, don’t act so surprised! You

know she does. Maybe she isn’t the only one?”

I grinned and shrugged.

“I just wish she felt the same about me,” Christy sighed.

“Can you really tell? I mean… just like that?”

“Usually. I just… know. I can’t explain it. And I don’t get a single thing from Terri.”

“Nothing? Not even a flicker of interest that maybe she’s trying to hide?”

“Nope. Nothing. I get one from Marianne, and she’s really good at hiding it. I told you about when I tried to get her to admit it.”

I nodded.

“But I don’t get anything from Terri. She’s a blank wall. At least toward me. Most women are like that.”

“I don’t think you realize how rare it is to find women like you and Wren and Brooke.”

“Oh, I realize it,” she said. “That’s why I’ve always been attracted to them. I know they’re like me. But it really stinks when someone I like doesn’t like me back.”

“No kidding.”

She snorted softly. “Like you’d know.”

“Hey, I’ve liked plenty of girls who didn’t like me back.”

“Name one.”

I fell silent.

“Mmm hmm,” she said after a pointed pause. “I didn’t think so.”

“Just because I can’t name them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“I don’t think you realize how rare you are. You have women falling all over you. It’s infuriating how easy it is for you. The rest of us have to worry about what other people think, while you—”

“Hey, I worry what other people think.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I do,” I insisted.

“Hey!” Terri said as she joined us. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Ready when you are.” She stopped when she sensed our mood. “Uh… is everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” I lied.

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

“No, we were just talking about our trip.”

She chose to believe me. “Sounds romantic. Christy was telling me about

it in the locker room earlier. Are you sure you have time to give me a ride home? I don’t mind walking. I can—”

“We have plenty of time,” I said. “But we’d better get going. We’re meeting someone at the airport in West Virginia—”

“—and you don’t want to keep them waiting,” she finished. “So, let’s get going.”

She and Christy chatted about dancing on the way out to the car and then during the short drive to Fort Sanders. Terri lived on the second floor of an actual apartment building. It’d been a hotel at one time, until some slumlord had bought it and turned into cheap student apartments, which was pretty common for the area.

“Thanks for the lift,” Terri said as I pulled to a stop in front of the building. “Have a nice weekend. See you Monday.”

“You too,” I said.

She hopped to the ground and closed the car door.

“Nope, not a thing,” Christy said as we watched her go.

Terri climbed the stairs, gave us a friendly wave, and disappeared into her apartment.

“Nothing?” I asked.

“Not a darn thing. She likes me fine, but only as a friend.” She sighed.

“She definitely has a crush on you, though. She even asked about you earlier.”

My eyebrows shot up. “For real?”

“Well, she asked about us, but she really wanted to know about you.”

I pulled out of the small parking lot. “How so?”

“She wanted to know if we had any problems with our size difference.”

“Size difference?”

“You know, in bed.”

“She came right out and asked?”

“Of course. Not in front of a group or anything, but in private. We were sort of comparing.”

“Sort of comparing?”

She grinned. “You’re cute when you don’t know what to say. You just repeat what I said and make it a question. But yes, we were comparing. Our bodies, I mean. Women do it all the time. And you were right, she’s almost exactly like me. Maybe a little curvier, and her chest is way bigger than mine, but the rest is close enough. That’s why she asked about your size.”

“Hold on,” I said, “how’s she even know about ‘my size’?”

“Oh, Paul… seriously? She’s your dance partner. You think she can’t feel you?”

“Not my dick,” I protested.

“Of course she can. It moves around. And we can feel it when we brush against you, especially if you’re hard.”

“I don’t get hard.”

“Okay, semi-hard, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you feel your partners’?”

“Of course. Roberto’s is about average. I don’t think he’s circumcised, though. Oh, please! Don’t look so shocked. I’m an expert on penises, remember? Anyway, Roberto. He’s nothing special. Besides, he isn’t interested in me. He’s a great dancer and we have good chemistry, but he’s happily married.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “but what about the other guys?”

“Edward— He’s the big guy. His’s about average but really thick. Like, wide-thick.”

“Hold on, can you really tell how thick it is?”

“Paul, dear, can you tell the difference between my chest and Terri’s?”

“I dunno,” I fibbed, “I haven’t felt her up.”

“You’ve felt them against you.”

“So?”

“If we pressed them against you, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference?”

“Don’t use logic against me,” I grumped.

“You’re really cute when I beat you at your own game. But yes, I can tell the difference between you and Edward. The other guys I’ve danced with are all about the same. I can’t tell exactly how big or small they are. Just general size and shape. Except Jody. He’s really well-endowed, but he’s more interested in you than me.”

“Wait… Jody? Isn’t he the one who’s dating…?” I snapped my fingers and tried to remember her name. “Linda!”

“They are, but she’s just a beard. I don’t think she knows, though. Like me and Simon.”

I blew right past the entrance to the airport.

“Oh,” Christy laughed, “you should see your face!”

I suppressed a grimace and made a three-point turn.

“Yes, I figured out that Simon’s gay,” she said, almost to herself. “I suppose I knew all along, but I guess… No, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Wait, what?” I said at last. “Simon was gay?”

“Is, dear. I don’t think he’s changed in the past year.”

“Simon? Simon, your fiancé?”

“Ex-fiancé.”

“But… he had sex with you!”

“Mmm hmm,” she said matter-of-factly. “Although neither of us really enjoyed it. That’s why I was worried I wouldn’t enjoy it with you. And for the record, I’m glad I was wrong. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Hold on, did you just change the subject?”

“Uh-oh, you caught me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really want to talk about Simon. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, especially since I figured out what’s going on with Jody and Linda. Some weird part of me will always love him, but I want to put him behind me. I’m with you now, and that’s all I care about.”

“Oh,” I said abruptly. “Well… when you put it that way.”

“Mmm, when I put it that way…,” she agreed. “You’re the most important man in my life, and the only man in my bed.”

“I thought it was ‘our’ bed.”

She waited for me to park the car. Then she unbuckled her seatbelt, rose on her knees, and cupped my face. “Do you really care whose bed it is? As long as I’m in it?”

“No.”

“And do you really care about the guys in my past? As long as you’re the one in my present?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Then don’t worry about Simon.” She looked into my eyes and for a moment I thought she was going to kiss me. Then she grinned and said, “You should probably worry about Jody, though. He might try to put the moves on you. And I know how you are about the size of your penis—”

“Ha!”

“But for the record, I’m glad he isn’t interested in me.” She pretended to shudder. “Way too big. Oh my gosh, no. Just… no.” She scrunched her nose but then smiled. “Yours is perfect, thank you very much.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Mmm, I do.”

“Not till the wedding.”

“Unh, no fair!” she squawked. “We already did it! You can’t stop now. I have needs, you know.”

I grinned and kissed her. “Yes, you do. So let’s get a move on. I have plans for you tonight.”

“Nefarious plans?”

“Of course.”

“Mmm, those’re my favorite!”

Christy chattered happily for the first hour of the flight to Elkins, and I split my attention between her and the flight itself. But then she said something that disconnected my personal autopilot.

“Hold on,” I said as I checked the real autopilot, the one flying the plane,

“say again.”

“What?” Christy said.

“Something about Marianne and your mom.”

“Oh, right. I said I think they’re working together. And now I’m sure you were right—my mom knew what we were up to over spring break. She must’ve told Marianne, too, ’cause she wasn’t surprised when I told her we went all the way. She tried to act like it, but I could tell.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“She’s known all along that we were eventually going to do it, but I never told her when. I never told anyone. I mean, why would I? Well, except for you and Brooke, but you know what I mean.”

I nodded.

“Anyway, she wasn’t surprised. And now she’s sort of fishing for information. She’s being subtle, but it’s obvious when you think about it. She asked about my ‘old room’ and how I liked having a grown-up relationship

‘all the time.’ I tried to act innocent, but I don’t think she bought it. So now my mom knows we’re living together.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“I… I don’t think so. I guess I’m just starting to figure out what’s going

on behind the scenes. I’ve always known that’s how my mom does things, although it’s kinda weird to think she’s doing it to you and me. But… now I’m wondering how much of what I tell Marianne goes straight to her.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know. I mean, she’s a woman too, so I’m not worried about her telling my dad, but it’s weird to think that she knows specifics. Like, I asked Marianne if she knew how to deep throat. Does that mean my mom knows too? So it’s weird. And you know how I am when I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I do.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It sort of is.”

“I don’t mind sharing what we do in private with Brooke or Erin or even Wren sometimes, but I don’t want Marianne and my mom to know. Not about all of it. I don’t think they’d understand.”

“They understand that you’re happy, don’t they?”

“Of course.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, it is. Sorry.”

“Erin told me the same thing,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose I should listen.”

I shot her a sideways glance, but her expression was impossible to read in the dim glow from the instrument panel. “When did you talk to Erin?”

“A couple of days ago. You were in Joska’s lab, and I had some time before dance class.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Christy said with a grin in her voice. “But you can probably guess.”

“Me?”

“Of course. She’s really funny, though. She doesn’t know how much I know, so she was like you, just now. What’s the word—?”

“Cagey,” I said.

“Right, exactly! She was totally cagey. She sort of relaxed when we started talking about our favorite subject, though.”

“Which is?”

“Oh, please. Fellatio. I wanted to ask her about deep throat. That’s why I

called. It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. Brooke even looked through the rest of her mom’s books to see if she could find anything for me. No luck, but she tried. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, Erin. She had a bunch of good tips, so I’m going to try them this weekend.

“She said to try different positions, like sixty-nine or on my side or even on my back. Speaking of which, one of my favorite movies has a scene like that. It isn’t deep throat, but it’s the first thing I thought of. The woman’s on this pool table, and she hangs her head over so the guy can… um… fuck her mouth. Then he comes all over her face.”

Christy sensed my reaction and grinned over at me. “Yeah, it’s pretty hot.

We can try it this weekend. I’m a bit worried about gagging, but I’m very determined.”

“Believe me, I know. And I’m thinking you might need a little practice now.”

“Ooh, this is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.” I unzipped my pants and reached inside for my rapidly expanding manhood.

“We’ll have to be careful, though,” she said. “I don’t want you to crash.”

“Trust me, I don’t wanna crash either.” I scanned the instruments and airspace. All clear. “We should be fine, though. We have about thirty minutes before I need to start our descent into Elkins.”

“Can the autopilot land the plane?”

“No,” I laughed.

“So I need to stop talking and start sucking? Mmm, my pleasure.”

Damon and Alexa were waiting for us at the airport in Elkins. They were happy to see us, but they’d been sniping at each other before we arrived. I suppressed a grin and thought about how Erin and I had been at their age. I decided to distract them as we pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward Snowshoe.

I asked about their flying lessons, and they said they’d both soloed. I was a bit surprised, but then I did the math and realized we hadn’t seen them in six weeks. They’d also started flying twice a week after the ski resort had closed for the season.

“We have a new instructor, too,” Alexa said. She gave her brother a pointed look and said, “She’s awesome. Though Damon doesn’t like her

’cause she wouldn’t let him solo until a week after I did.”

“But I did it in a real plane,” Damon objected. “You only did it in a glider.”

“A solo’s a solo,” I said. “Congratulations, Alexa.” I shrugged philosophically and said to Damon, “Christy’s better’n me at lots of things.”

“Yeah, but she’s a girl,” he muttered.

“They both are. And that’s okay.”

“Maybe for you,” he snapped, which wasn’t like him. “Sorry,” he said immediately.

“Eh, it’s okay. I get it, you wanna be better than your sister. But just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean you’ll automatically be better at things.

That isn’t how the world works. I mean, I met a woman a couple of weeks ago who’s way better at math and science than I am, and I’m no slouch.

“She’s studying to be an engineer, but I was a complete jerk when she told me,” I added. “Even worse, she was used to it, ’cause most guys react like I did. But women can be pilots or engineers or astronauts or anything else they wanna be. And it’s up to guys like you and me to be cool when we find out. We can’t get upset when they’re better’n us, either.”

He hunched his shoulders and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

“Yeah, I know,” I said into the silence. “Life’s pretty confusing as a teenage guy. I remember. Trust me. It’s still confusing, and I’m a few years older’n you. So I dunno if it gets any easier.” I glanced over the seat at Christy. “What do you think, honey?”

“I think you’re both doing fine.”

Alexa gave me a teary smile and nodded emphatically.

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” I said to Damon. “Being the best at something doesn’t make you a man. It’s how you handle things when you aren’t the best. That’s the true test. Do you pick yourself up and try harder?

Or do you quit and sulk about it?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

“I dunno ’bout you, but I know which one I’d choose.”

The rest of the weekend was a blur. A good blur, but still a blur. It was the

last weekend before danger week, so Christy and I wanted to make the most of it. We had sex on every flat surface in the room, plus a few of the vertical ones as well. We had sex in the bathtub and with her tied to the bed and blindfolded. We even did it once outside, standing on the patio outside our door at midnight. She clung to my neck and buried her face in my chest to keep from crying out as she climaxed.

She also tried her best to deep throat me. She almost managed it a couple of times when I was only semi-hard, but she still couldn’t force me into her throat when I was fully erect. Her eyes were watering with tears when she finally gave up in frustration.

“I just can’t do it.” She sniffed grumpily and sat back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” I chuckled. “But this really annoys you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, dammit!”

“Relax,” I said. “I don’t think this is something you can learn in a couple of weeks.”

“Why the hell not?”

I slid onto the floor and pulled her into my lap. “Damon isn’t the only one who’s super-competitive.”

“So?” she asked sullenly.

“Well, what did I tell him? Either pick yourself up and try harder, or quit and sulk about it.”

She glared.

“Listen, I know you think it’s a cheesy line, but we have the rest of our lives.”

“But I wanna do it now, not ten years from now.”

“Now, ten years from now, who cares? It isn’t worth it if you don’t enjoy it.”

“But I do enjoy it. Well, not the part where I keep gagging, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. And I’m patient. You know that, especially where you’re concerned.”

“That’s nice. I’m not.”

“You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”

“And don’t you forget it, mister.”

“Not much chance of that,” I chuckled. Then I kissed her forehead and simply held her until she eventually relaxed. “Better?” I said at last.

She nodded and let out a deep sigh. “I guess this is like learning to do splits. I need to give my muscles time to stretch and get used to it.”

“Exactly. You’ll get there.”

“I know. I’m just more like Wren than I want to admit.”

“Like me and Rich,” I said. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“No.”

I looked at my watch. “Okay, Miss Sex Kitten, it’s four in the morning.

I’d like to get some sleep before we have to get up and check out. But first, I’d like to make love to you. In the bed, missionary position, and with the lights out. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please.”

A couple of days later, I called Susan and wished her a happy birthday.

“Thank you very much,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Have you had a good day?”

“A great one. We just got home from dinner. We’re about to get in the hot tub.”

“We?”

“My friend and I.”

“You still aren’t going to tell me who he is, are you?”

“Not unless you can think of a reason I should.” She muffled the phone, and I heard what sounded like, “You go on out. I’ll be right with you.”

“Want me to let you go?” I asked.

“No, we’re a little full from dinner. I’ll join him in a bit. In the meantime, how’re you? How’s Christy? Have you and Trip had a chance to look at the numbers?”

“I’m good, she’s good, and we have. I’ll save the longer answers for when you don’t have someone waiting on you.”

“Let me worry about him. We’ve been friends a long time. He understands.”

“Well,” I admitted, “I have my own distraction here. Christy just came upstairs. She has a snack, and that’ll keep her busy for a few minutes, but then we’re supposed to look at her project sketches.”

“I won’t keep you long,” Susan said. “But I do want to hear your thoughts

on my project.”

“My thoughts? In a word, scared.”

She chuckled, a sound rich with amusement and irony. “That’s a good thing. You’ll take it seriously if you’re scared. I wouldn’t even think about hiring you if you weren’t.”

“Yeah, that’s what Trip said.”

“But I am thinking about hiring you, so let’s talk. I spoke with Trip a couple of days ago, but now it’s your turn in the hot seat.”

“It’s a lot of work,” I said, “but we think we can do it. Trip will do the management, and I’ll handle the design and site visits.”

“He said you’re also thinking about bringing in a consultant, someone with more experience to give you the benefit of their wisdom.”

“Yeah, we talked about it,” I said. “I don’t know the guy, but I trust Trip’s judgment.”

“That’s good enough for me. I know someone local who can consult too.

He was part of the Works Progress Administration. He’s in his eighties now, but his mind’s as sharp as ever.”

“We’ll take all the help we can get.”

“Good to know. That’s a sign of maturity, knowing what you don’t know.”

“I really worry about the things we don’t know we don’t know, if that makes sense.”

“It does, and it gives me even more confidence to hear it. So I’ll watch the mail for a new ballpark estimate. And you’re coming for a visit at the end of the month?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then. In the meantime, give Christy a hug and kiss for me. I’m glad you’re doing well. See you soon.”

“Will do,” I said. “See you soon.”

We said goodbye and hung up, and Christy grinned at me from the end of the bed.

“I really like her too,” she said. “Susan, right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“She’s good for you. Like Sara. They’re both smart and no-nonsense.”

She nibbled a carrot stick and gave me a speculative look.

“What?”

“Nothing. Only… No, never mind.”

“What?” I insisted.

“Just something I thought of. Only, I need to think about it some more. In the meantime, Mr. Nosy Parker, can we look at my sketches now? I really want your opinion before I finalize the maquettes. I know you think I’m bad at telling time, but I have a deadline I can’t miss.”

“Sure. Let’s take a look.”

She hopped up and grabbed her sketchbook and an even larger sketchpad.

We spread everything in front of us on the bed and looked at the series in order, from Wren’s body to Delilah’s and finally to Sayuri’s.

“Are her breasts real?” I asked about the modern Sayuri. “I mean, not that I think they’re fake, but… did you perk them up in the sketches?”

“I know, right?” Christy said. “She’s a hundred percent real, and she’s beautiful. I hope I look half as good as she does at her age.”

“She isn’t that old,” I said. “About your mother’s age, right?”

Christy gave me a quizzical look. “Are you serious?”

“Um… yes?”

“Oh my gosh, sometimes I think Erin’s right about you, you really are a dork. Sayuri’s sixty-four. She was a teenager before the war, Paul. I stink at math, but even I know how old she is.”

“I guess I never thought about it.”

“How old did you think she was?”

“Like, in her fifties.”

“She was fourteen in 1934. That’s why I named the series 1934-1984.

And it’s why Delilah was perfect. She’s thirty-four in real life. Get it?

Fourteen, thirty-four, sixty-four?”

“Um… is it too late to admit that I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes?”

She laughed brightly. “Way too late. But you’re still cute.”

“I’m glad someone thinks so,” I muttered. “I don’t feel like it. I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, you aren’t. So get over it. And tell me what you think of my sketches.”

I stopped beating myself up and focused on the drawings instead.

“I think they’re amazing,” I said. “I love how you’ve captured the shy girl, the confident woman, and the radiant older woman. Did you intend to do that?”

“Oh my goodness! Paul, dear… yes! I said I wanted to show time and

beauty. The modern Sayuri isn’t perky and slim like the girl—and don’t tell Wren this, but I had to fudge her body a bit to make it look younger—but the older Sayuri has… I dunno… an inner beauty. It shines through everything, even time.”

“Well, you nailed it,” I said. “And I think I just figured out why.”

“Oh?” she teased. “Two in one night?”

“Be nice,” I shot back, friendly rather than petulant. “No, I just realized that you love your subjects. Not romantic love, but you clearly love them.

That comes through in your art. And you make your viewers love them too.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said after a moment. “I never really thought about it. I just sculpt them how I see them in my head.”

“It’s why the Replicant works as well as it does. Yeah, you see the guy’s pain and heartbreak, but you really feel for him. He makes you think about hope, what might’ve been… if only he weren’t dying.”

“If you say so. You know this stuff better than I do. I’m just an artist.”

“I don’t think you’re ‘just’ anything. You’re amazing. And seeing these sketches makes me love you even more.”

“Really? Why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but… why?

What’s so special about these?”

“It isn’t the sketches. It’s the way you see the world. I think you’re a lot more like Laurence than you realize. You’re pretty positive. At least, you are in your art.”

“If you say so,” she repeated, unconvinced.

“I say so.” I leaned in to kiss her, and we both lingered over it.

“Mmm, nice,” she said when we finally pulled apart. “And I just thought of something. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” She hopped up and scampered upstairs. She returned a minute later and tossed a sketchbook on the bed in front of me. “Oh, one more thing.” She dashed off but then stuck her head back in. “No peeking.” She shot a glance at the sketchbook, in case I hadn’t understood. Then she ran downstairs and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Ugh! I always do that, forget the corkscrew.”

I did my best not to chuckle as she set the bottle and glasses on the nightstand and disappeared again.

“Maybe I can’t plan things!” she called back as she ran down the stairs a second time. She gave me a breathless grin when she returned. “Wren and Trip looked at me like I’m crazy.”

“You sort of are.”

“Maybe, but I’m your crazy. I also have a corkscrew, so you’d better watch out!”

I held out my hand and she gave it to me. “What’s the occasion?” I asked as I carefully cut the foil from the top of the bottle.

“You’ll see.” She closed the bedroom door and untied the belt on her dress.

“Oh?”

She grinned. “I like being a nudist with you. Now it doesn’t seem weird to take my clothes off. Besides, you get this look in your eye…”

“It’s called ‘lust.’”

She ignored me and made an effort to toss her dress at the hamper. She missed, but at least she’d tried. She distracted me by changing the subject.

“Oh my gosh, I don’t know what I’d do without push-up bras.” She reached back and unclasped hers. “Even Terri makes me feel inadequate, and she’s my size. Sometimes I hate being so small. At least I’m bigger than some. Like Linda, Jody’s girlfriend. I don’t think hers even qualify as mosquito bites.”

“Yours aren’t small,” I said. “And you know how I feel—”

“I know. ‘Can you touch ’em?’ I get it.”

“Besides, I like you for more than your perky boobs.”

“You really think they’re perky?”

“Oh, please. You know they are. I see you check ’em every week to see if they sag. And for the record, they don’t. Now, are you going to take off your panties too?”

“I was planning on it. But what about you, Mr. Nudist?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” I stood and unbuttoned my khakis. I made a point to toss them in front of the hamper, where they landed on her dress.

She noticed and grinned. She added her panties to the growing pile and waited for me to finish undressing.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m up to…,” she ventured.

“Yes and no. I’m curious, but I don’t really care as long as you’re nude.”

“Have a seat and I’ll show you.” She waited for me to scoot to the center of the bed. She sat next to me seiza-style before she changed her mind and sat cross-legged instead. “I know you like to look,” she said as she drew my eyes to where her shaved labia parted slightly. “And I like to show you. I still feel a little weird about this, but only ’cause it makes me feel vulnerable. But… I like feeling vulnerable around you. It makes me all warm and tingly. Well,

even more warm and tingly than usual. Oh my gosh, I’m chattering, aren’t I?

“I don’t know why,” she continued. “I’m not nervous. Never mind, you don’t really care. You think I’m cute no matter what.”

“Guilty as charged,” I said.

“Okay, so… what I want to show you. Hey, don’t we need wine or something? I went back for the corkscrew and everything.”

I grinned and poured two glasses. I handed one to her and then clinked mine against it. “What’re we drinking to?”

“Us. And… um… Brooke?”

My eyebrows rose with an amused question.

“I told you, she said I could show you my sketches of her. Well, here they are.” She flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for.

Then she set it on the bed and angled it toward me.

Brooke lay on her stomach with her eyes closed. Her hair curved over her head and back, and she had her arms tucked under her chest. I couldn’t see anything other than her shoulders and back, but she was clearly nude.

“She was still recovering,” Christy said. “She doesn’t like this one, ’cause I drew her freckles, but I think she’s beautiful.”

“She is.”

“Here’s another,” she said as she turned the page. “She posed for this one, and she tried to make me promise not to add her freckles, but I ignored her and did it anyway. She’s really self-conscious about them. I told you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Brooke was sitting on the couch with her hands thrust between her thighs.

Her arms pushed her breasts together and made them look a little bigger than I’d imagined them. They were firm and full, capped with pale nipples. Her coppery hair swept to one side and cascaded over her shoulder. Christy had done a good job with the shading and highlights, and how the shadows played across Brooke’s face. She was looking directly at us with an amused half-smile.

“I think she secretly likes her breasts,” Christy said. “She complains they’re too big, but I think that’s ’cause guys pay attention to them instead of the rest of her. It really annoys her that she’s so smart but everyone tells her how pretty she is.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “Lots of women have that problem. It’s like guys think women can be one or the other, smart or pretty, but not both.”

“Well, Brooke’s both. She may be one of the smartest people I know, and that includes you and my father and even her parents.” She flipped the page without waiting for me to reply. “She didn’t want me to sketch her this time, but I made her do it anyway.”

Brooke was reclining with her legs spread, one knee up, one to the side.

She cupped her breast and pinched her nipple with one hand. Her other hand was playing with her pussy. She was shaved, and Christy had drawn her so realistically that my mouth actually watered at the thought of going down on her.

“I know what you mean,” Christy said. “I just thought the same thing.”

“Are you sure it’s okay to show me these?” I said after a moment. “I know she said you could, but… they seem pretty intimate.”

“It’s okay. She wanted me to. She really likes you. She just gets scared in person. Besides, I… um… sort of have a plan.”

“Oh?”

“I thought we could call her and tell her we’re looking at her sketches.

She should be home from school, and she usually has a glass of wine to relax.” Christy glanced at the clock and worked out the time in San Diego.

“Yeah, she’s definitely home by now. And for the record,” she added, “a glass of wine seemed like a good idea for us too. I’m not feeling scared or anything, but I always feel a bit naughtier when I’ve been drinking.”

“Fine by me. Are you ready to call her?”

“In a minute. Just a few more sketches.”

We leafed through several pages. Most had smaller sketches of Brooke in different everyday poses, nude or semi-nude. The last one was a full page of just her face. She was looking directly at us, and Christy had captured the intelligence behind her eyes and smile.

“This is how I think of her,” Christy said. “I know you probably want to see more of her body, but this is the real Brooke, the one I love.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye to study my reaction.

“She’s very pretty,” I said after a moment. “But she looks… I dunno…

lonely.”

“This was the day before you got there. She knew you were coming, that you’d take me away. She wasn’t upset, but—”

“She knew she was losing you. Only temporarily, but still…”

“I knew you’d understand. She was worried you’d be jealous, but then she met you. She really likes you. And… if anything ever happens to me, I’d

want you to be with her.”

“Seriously? Never mind. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“I know, but I want you to know how I feel. Don’t get me wrong, I love Wren, but she doesn’t need someone to take care of her. Besides, she has Trip. Brooke needs someone. Right now that’s you and me.”

“I understand.”

“I knew you would. She also needs you for another reason, Mr. Good Thing.” She grinned sidelong but then her expression fell. “Fletcher’s been calling her. His other ‘girlfriends’ found out about each other and now they won’t have anything to do with him.”

“Good for them!”

“Yeah, you can say that again. But he’s been calling Brooke and trying to get back together. She really likes the attention, but she knows he’s bad for her. Unfortunately, her resolve’s starting to weaken. That’s where we come in. She needs a good, hard you-know-what, if you ask me.”

“Fucking,” I supplied.

“Exactly. She has a couple of vibrators, but it isn’t the same. I used to think it would be, but it isn’t. I… I don’t know if I can explain it. There’s just something about feeling the real thing inside you. That’s why I don’t want to use rubbers or anything else. I want to feel you.”

I leaned over and kissed her.

“I’m sorry it’s danger week for us,” she said quietly.

“Eh, we’ll survive. It’s a good thing you like swallowing, though.”

“Mmm, I love it.” She pulled back a little and studied me. “Brooke does too. Maybe not as much as me, but she does it. And… she’s on the pill. She wants you to come inside her. She’s still a little shy in person, though, so you’ll have to go slow with her. I sort of want you to go slow too. I’m pretty sure I can watch and not feel jealous, but I won’t know till we try. I didn’t have a problem that time with Wren, but you didn’t have sex with her.”

“No.”

“And I know you think I’m silly, but blowjobs aren’t sex. Not for real.

Penis in vagina, that’s sex. It’s… a lot different for me. It isn’t just body parts. It’s spiritual. Okay?”

“I understand.”

“But you know how much I like to watch. I get all hot and slippery just thinking about it.” She chuckled darkly. “If I can do it for real and not just in my head, it might be worth watching you and Terri, even though I know she

doesn’t want anything to do with me. Oh, don’t look so surprised! I know how you are. If you weren’t with me, you’d already have another notch on your bedpost.”

“I dunno about that,” I protested, “but yeah, I’d probably have slept with her by now. I’d like to think she’s girlfriend material, but you’ve ruined me.”

“Ruined you?”

“Yeah, for every other woman. Now that I’ve found you, all the others are just… I dunno… diversions.”

“Mmm, you can say that again.” She waited expectantly. “Go on, say it again.”

I laughed and said, “You ruined me. Every other woman is just a diversion. There. Happy?”

“Yes, thank you.” She leaned in for a kiss.

I pulled her hand to my semi-hard shaft, and she began stroking it.

“Someone approves.”

“Someone also thinks you need a good, hard you-know-what.”

“Fucking,” she said with a grin.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

We called Brooke about forty-five minutes later. She was reading an assignment and already on her second glass of wine.

“I just wanted to give you a call and see how you’re doing,” Christy said.

They spent a few minutes catching up. Then Christy said, “Paul’s here with me. Do you want to say hello?” She listened and then handed the phone to me with whispered instructions, “Tell her about the sketches.”

“Hey,” I said to Brooke, “how’re you?”

“Good. Suffering from senioritis and ready to graduate. You?”

“I’m one of those disgustingly optimistic people—”

“He is!” Christy said.

“—so I generally find a silver lining. But yeah, I get it. One of our other friends is s’posed to graduate this quarter. She’s swamped and sick of it.”

“The worst part is,” Brooke said, “I won’t even be done when I graduate.

I start my Master’s in the fall.”

“What’re you doing over the summer?”

“I have a six-week internship, but as little as possible the rest of the time.”

“Maybe you can come visit us,” I suggested.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“Tell her about the sketches,” Christy urged in a low voice.

“I have an insistent little birdy here,” I said to Brooke. “She wants me to tell you I like the sketches.”

“What sk—?”

I actually heard her gulp. “Yeah, those,” I chuckled.

“Y-you like them?”

“I think you’re very pretty, but I also think you’re a little insecure about it.”

“Wh—?” She cleared her throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Christy mentioned a few things, but… I mean… everyone is, me included.” I shrugged. “Christy doesn’t think so, but she’s wrong.”

Christy herself frowned at the direction the conversation had taken.

“I dunno,” Brooke said, “you seem pretty confident to me.”

“I am, in general. But I have plenty of little insecurities.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Christy muttered.

I ignored her and continued, “She was giving me a hard time about it last week. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I’m kind of obsessive about my weight. I work out and run all the time, and I really try to watch what I eat, which isn’t easy with Miss Metabolism.”

“I know what you mean. She used to drive me crazy with her snacks all the time. At least they were healthy. But… why’re you worried about your weight? You look fine.”

“I used to be pudgy. I don’t ever want to be like that again.” I laughed softly, more at myself than anything. “I didn’t really have a girlfriend until I lost weight and got in shape. And… I know this is gonna sound dumb, but I guess I equate having a nice body with getting laid.”

Brooke scoffed, and Christy realized I was serious. Her brow furrowed with concern.

“I’m weird about my hair and clothes, too. I wanna look nice, but I also worry about what other people think. ‘Is he too poor to afford better clothes?’

‘Does he even care what he looks like?’ So… yeah.”

Neither girl knew what to say.

“And I’m a bit of a neat freak. I want people to think I’m smart and

organized. Yeah, I know, ‘disorganized’ has nothing to do with intelligence

—Christy’s a prime example—but still, I don’t want someone to think I’m an idiot because my room’s messy.”

“I know what you mean,” Brooke said in a quiet voice. “I’m not a neat freak or anything, but I hate when people look at me and think I must be an airhead because I’m pretty.”

I nodded and tried to shake off my introspection.

“I have a brain too, you know,” Brooke was saying. “I’m not just a pretty smile or nice pair of tits. Besides, what’s so special about tits anyway?”

“Well, yours are pretty special, but… yeah, I get it. You’re sexy and smart, and you want people to notice both.”

“Exactly.”

“Anyway,” I said after a moment, “sorry I turned the conversation into a downer. I guess I needed to get that off my chest.”

“At least you’re honest about it,” Brooke said. “And… that’s really cool.

Hold on a sec.”

I grinned at the sounds in the background. “Time for another glass of wine?”

“Yes. I hate that I’m so shy without it. But… I like talking to you, and I don’t want you to think I’m a nerd.”

“I don’t think you’re a nerd. You’re pretty normal. Well, you’re messed-up in the head, but we all are.”

“You can say that again,” she said in a tone so close to Christy’s that I smiled.

“So, now that we’ve bared our souls,” I said in a lighter voice, “let’s talk about something more interesting.”

“Like what,” she laughed.

“Christy’s sketches?”

Christy herself rolled her eyes in a “Finally!” gesture.

“So… you liked them?” Brooke asked.

“Duh. You’re smokin’ hot. But I think my favorite is the last one. It’s just your face, and she did a great job with your eyes.”

“My eyes? Seriously? Out of all those sketches, you were looking at my eyes?”

“Well, eventually,” I admitted with a grin. “But I like them. They’re intelligent and curious. Kind, too. You’ll make a great scientist.”

“Thank you.”

“What did you think about mine?”

“What? Your eyes?”

“No,” I laughed. “Her sketches of me. She said she showed ’em to you.”

“Uh… smokin’ hot?” she teased.

“You really think so? I think I’m pretty average.”

“I’d say above average. And I really like that you shave. That’s so cool.”

“Thanks. What about you? Are you still shaved?”

“Yeah. I started to let it grow back, but it itched like all get out, so I just kept doing it. Besides…” She hesitated but then decided to say what she was thinking. “I like the way it makes me feel.”

“It’s sexy.”

Christy perked up.

“Yeah,” Brooke agreed. “And Chris likes it. We’re both perverts, I guess.

Isn’t that what this sharing thing is about?”

“Sort of. So… you still think you want to go through with it?”

“I do. But I’ll be honest, I’m a little skeptical.”

“Of what?”

“I guess I’m wondering why you’re any different than Fletcher.”

“Ah,” I said slowly. “I was wondering when he’d come up.”

Christy scowled.

“Well?” Brooke said. “Why’re you different? You’re still a guy. Isn’t this what all guys want? To sleep with multiple women?”

“Hold on,” I said gently. “That’s a bit like me saying, ‘You’re still a pretty girl. Aren’t all pretty girls bimbos?’ You can’t put me in the same category as Fletcher just because we’re both guys.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she admitted. “But I still wanna know what’s different about you. Damn, hold on. I said that wrong. I sound like I’m arguing, and maybe I was. But I’m not now. I really wanna know. I accept that you aren’t like Fletcher. I’ve seen the evidence firsthand. So… what makes you different?”

“Ah, okay,” I said with more than a little relief. “What makes me different? I guess I’m more mature. And I was raised differently. I respect women.”

“Must be nice,” she muttered. She realized how bitter she sounded, so she changed the subject. “Chris says you’re good in bed. Do you know more about sex or something?”

“The physical part? Probably not. I mean, it’s basically the same for

everyone. But the mental and emotional parts? Sure, absolutely.”

“You’re more exciting? And maybe more stable? Less of a jerk?”

“Something like that,” I laughed. “The ‘more exciting’ part is purely personal. What gets you worked up isn’t the same as what gets Christy excited.”

“We’re pretty similar,” she said.

“And you’re tired of your vibrators?” I made it sound like a question, but we both knew it wasn’t. “You need a good, hard fucking?”

“Damn her,” she muttered. “She told you all my dirty little secrets, didn’t she? Well, we’ll see how she likes it when I tell you hers!”

“She hasn’t told me all your dirty little secrets,” I chuckled.

Christy herself rolled her eyes and shook her head very deliberately.

“Enough of them,” Brooke said. She filled her wineglass in the background. Then she changed the subject again. “You ever get the feeling that Christy wanted this to happen?”

“How do you mean?”

“Not Fletcher and me breaking up or anything like that,” she said quickly.

“But you and me, this sharing thing. She’s been telling me about you since you started dating, but lately it’s been a lot of little hints.”

“That’s how she works,” I chuckled.

“Yeah. She used to complain about her mom, but she’s just like her.”

“You can say that again.”

“I was a little upset when I figured it out,” Brooke said quietly, “but then I started thinking about it. What’s she get out of it? I mean, she already has you. She has me too, if I’m being honest. So… why do it? Why encourage us to… you know?”

“To make you happy.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You too, obviously. But… is that a bad thing? To make people happy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, me neither.” She sighed and fell silent, and I let her think. After a moment she said, very softly, “I love her.”

“Me too.”

“That’s really cool.” She fortified herself with another drink of wine.

“You know, I thought she was just messing with me when she started hinting about this weekend.”

“What do you think now?”

“I’m starting to think it might actually happen.”

“Does it still make you nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted. “No, a lot.” She took another swig of wine. “And I’m worried I’ll lose my nerve again.”

“Eh, if you do, you do. No problem.”

“Thanks.”

“Besides, this is mostly for Christy. I mean, I definitely wanna have sex with you, don’t get me wrong. But really, this weekend is for her. She wants to see if she’s cut out to be a… um… sharer.”

Brooke laughed at my sudden awkwardness. “What did you mean to say?”

“Um… when?”

“Just now. You said ‘sharer.’ But you meant to say something else.”

“Swinger.”

I could’ve heard a pin drop on the other end of the line, and Christy actually held her breath.

“Are… are you serious?” Brooke finally asked.

“What do you think?”

She actually surprised me with her reply. “I knew it!” she trumpeted. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

I grinned and nodded to Christy, who relaxed.

“I thought that’s what you were,” Brooke explained. “She told me about you and dropped a lot of hints, but I didn’t want to come right out and ask.”

“Yeah, I’m a swinger. My parents too.”

“And now Christy is?”

“She’s getting there,” I agreed. “That’s one of the reasons she wants to have a threesome with you.”

“It sounds so strange to hear you say that. It’s even stranger to think it might happen.”

“You aren’t really shocked, though, are you?”

“About you? God no! I’m not Sister Prune.”

I laughed and told Christy, who leaned in and cried, “Oh no! Not Sister Prune! Ahhhhh!”

“Let me talk to her,” Brooke said.

I passed the phone to Christy.

“Oh my gosh! So, what do you think? I know, right!”

I had an idea, so I scooted out of the way and gently urged Christy to lie

back. She frowned uncertainly but did it. I straddled her body and kissed her forehead. Then I slowly worked my way down to the sensitive skin below her ear.

She squirmed and tried to push me away, but I ignored her and nuzzled her neck. I kissed lower, and she gasped and arched her back when I sucked her nipple and bit it gently. She kept up her side of the conversation with Brooke, but her replies were becoming more distracted.

I kissed down her stomach and spread her legs with my body. Then I settled between them and teased her clit with my nose. She smelled tangy and feminine, and she shivered as I kissed her smooth labia.

“Oh my gosh, Brooke,” she said at last, “I need to let you go.”

I raised my head. “No. Keep talking.”

She swallowed hard but nodded. Then she closed her eyes and lay back on the pillows.

I kissed her again and parted her lips with my tongue. She tasted fresh, with a salty hint of sweat from dance practice. I licked along the length of her slit and then teased the growing bead of her clit.

“Oh my gosh,” she panted, and for a moment I thought she was talking to me. But then she said, “He’s between my legs, kissing me.” Her breathing grew heavier. “You have no idea. Oh my gosh, Brooke, you have to let him go down on you.”

I grinned to myself and concentrated on what I was doing. Christy was already wet and ready, so I slid a finger into her and crooked the tip against her G-spot. She lurched upright and steadied herself with a hand on my shoulder. I circled her clit with my tongue and then sucked gently. She relaxed and slowly lay back. Her breathing grew heavier, and she began to whimper with pleasure.

Part of me paid attention to her side of the conversation—it sounded like Brooke was playing with herself too—but mostly I concentrated on her pussy and making her come. She had a mini-orgasm that made her stop talking altogether, although Brooke probably had a good idea what was going on.

I stopped teasing her and worked her up to a major climax. She cried out softly and tried to curl around me. She eventually relaxed and started breathing again. Then she lay back, and her stomach fluttered as a couple of aftershocks made her gasp. I rose on my hands and knees and kissed my way up her body. She moaned when she tasted herself on my lips. Then she remembered the phone.

She raised it to her ear and said, “Hello? Brooke? Are you still there?”

She relaxed and smiled. “Mmm, you too? Oh my gosh, that was a big one.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I know. I wish I could see you. You’re always so beautiful after.”

My hard-on nudged Christy’s thigh, so she reached between us and wrapped her fingers around it.

“Oh my gosh, Brooke, now he’s between my legs. For real. Do you wanna listen…?” She smiled at Brooke’s reply. “You’re sure? You don’t mind?” She nodded once and then drew me forward with her grip on my shaft. She set the tip at her opening and closed her eyes as I eased into her.

“Oh, that’s nice. Yeah. He’s inside me. He’s so big. Oh, Brooke… you have to let him do this. It feels amazing.”

I began thrusting, slowly at first. Christy’s tight breasts bounced each time my hips met hers, so I bent and sucked her nipples. She gasped and ran her fingers through my hair. She described what I was doing, although I stopped paying attention at some point.

The pressure eventually built in my balls until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to consciously remind myself not to come inside her. The little head wasn’t in the mood to cooperate, so I pulled out before he decided to ignore me and do what we both wanted. I hopped over Christy’s leg and steadied myself against the headboard. She automatically opened her mouth.

After a moment she rolled toward me and let the phone slide to the pillow. She concentrated on sucking my balls. I grunted and spewed a thick line of semen across her cheek. She captured the tip and caught the next spurt in her mouth. Then she moaned and pulled my hips toward her as I emptied my balls down her throat.

I finally sat back and breathed hard through my nose. Christy wiped the errant white streak from her face and licked her fingers clean. She belatedly groped for the phone.

“Brooke? Hello? Oh my gosh! Sorry about that. He was ready to come.”

She listened a moment and then rolled her eyes. “Of course I did. But a little escaped and I had to chase it down. I should probably warn you, he shoots a lot when he comes.”

She shifted gears in an instant. “Did you come too? For real? Oh my gosh, that’s awesome. I know!” She listened and then glanced at my hard-on.

“He is. So I might… you know. Yeah, you know how I am.” She glanced up at me. “He’s as horny as we are! And he’s gonna rock your world.”

She nodded and listened for a moment. “I can’t wait either. Yeah, okay. I understand. I love you too. Okay. See you Friday. Bye.”

She sighed and pressed her thumb to the button to hang up. Then her eyes lit up. “Ooh, leakage.” She sucked gently and then fell back to the pillows.

“That was fun.”

“Mmm.”

“But… um… I might need another snack. You know how I am. My metabolism. It’s really high, you know.”

I chuckled and flopped next to her on the bed. She rolled away from me and hung up the phone. Then she turned back, draped her leg over mine, and rested her head on my chest.

“I love you,” she sighed.

“I love you too.”

Her hand found my penis and began stroking him back to life.

“Hold on… you were serious?”

“I’m always serious about fellatio. You created a monster.”

“I think you were like this before I met you.”

“So what if I was? Besides, I have to keep you interested. Do you think that’s what Scheherazade did? That she was an insatiable nympho? Maybe I’m a nympho too. And insatiable. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. Now, about that snack…”

To be continued…

Read the next book in the series,

Risqué Management.