The Bedtime Tales of Be287m

Friends and Benefits, Chapter Eight

I woke up alone. It took me a little while to remember why I was stretched out on the sleeper sofa. I reached out and caressed the mattress where Sherri had lain. Commotion from the kitchen told me she was still here. I slowly pulled myself to a sitting position, just as Sherri came around the corner carrying two steaming mugs.

A beautiful naked woman bearing coffee. I doubted there was a better morning sight possible.

“Good morning, Joe. Sleep well?”

I nodded. “More soundly than I expected,” I said.

“Better than the last couple of nights?” she asked.

“Now that you mention it . . .”

I sipped my coffee while taking peeks at Sherri’s breasts.

“If you’re going to look, Joe, look. Don’t peek.”

“You don’t mind me staring?” I asked, surprised.

“If I did, I would have covered up.” Sherri had a leer on her lips again.

“Well, then.” I dropped my eyes and soaked in the sight of her breasts. Her nipples and the curves. I’d been admiring them for a few moments when Sherri took a long, slow, deep breath, which thrust her breasts out further. I smiled and looked up , meeting her eyes.

“Heavenly,” I said.

Sherri laughed, full and deep, causing her chest to jiggle delightfully.

“I wouldn’t use that word,” she said. “But thanks.”

“What word would you use?”

“Divine,” she stated. I looked at her an raised an eyebrow, which Sherri saw and ignored.

“I can’t stay too long this morning,” Sherri said. “I’ve got class in a couple of hours and I want to hear more of your story before I go.”

“Oh? Well, I’ve got a lot to cover still. Can we continue tonight?”

“Maybe,” she answered. “It depends on my homework load and whether the agency books me any appointments.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t thrilled about that, and it must have shown on my face.

“Don’t worry about it, Joe. That’s then. We’ve still got some time now.”

“True,” I agreed. “So where was I?”

“New Year’s morning.”

“Ah . . .”

* * *

Sharon was lightly snoring when my bladder brought me to consciousness. The stumble to the bathroom confirmed that I’d had too much to drink. At least the throbbing in my head wasn’t incapacitating. I found the aspirin in the bathroom without too much trouble. Instead of returning to Sharon’s bed, I navigated my way to the living room couch. I stretched out and thought about Sharon’s story.

Initially, I was furious about what had happened. The boys had gotten a young girl drunk and taken advantage of her! Hell, not just the guys—Kathy and Janie too. They had to have planned the orgy. They probably enjoyed having sex with all those guys, I mused, switching partners or taking two on at once. I was sure the guys had enjoyed it—having all those females in one night. I sure would have.

That last thought made me queasy. I’d fantasized about orgies hundreds of times. Hell, if I admitted it, I was jealous of those guys. And Sharon had never said no. Would I have stopped when I saw she wasn’t enjoying herself? Would I have even noticed?

Noise from the bathroom alerted me that Sharon was awake. I stood up, winced at the throbbing in my head, and wandered back to the bedroom. Sharon was sitting on the edge of the bed with her temples in her hands. She looked up and gave a wan smile.

“I had too much to drink last night,” she said.

“That makes two of us,” I replied, sitting down next to her. I gave her two aspirin and she grabbed some water from her nightstand.

“Thanks,” Sharon said next.

“No problem. I needed the painkillers myself.”

“For more than the aspirin.”

“Okay. Then for what?”

“Staying.”

“No problem. What are friends for?”

“Yeah.”

I put my arm around Sharon and she nestled in.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Coffee. In a few minutes.”

“Sounds good.”

I continued to hold Sharon for a while until she gently pulled away. Then I padded after her into the kitchen. Sharon got the coffee maker going while I got some mugs out. When I turned around, Sharon was thumbing through the pictures I’d moved to the counter.

Sharon sighed. “I was going to suggest some more photos after the party, but . . .”

“That’s all right,” I interrupted. “We can do it some other time.”

Sharon nodded. “When do you head back?”

“Sunday.”

“Maybe we could get together Saturday?”

“Mmmm, my parents want to spend some time with me. How about Friday?”

“Great.”

“Great.”

The coffee was done about then and we sat in silence at the table as we sipped. Sharon seemed far away as she thought her private thoughts. My own mind drifted to Sunday and what I needed to do before I left. Idly, I wondered how hard the upcoming semester would be. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as the previous year, particularly if I was still going out with Tina.

Tina. Oh, shit. How was I going to explain last night to Tina? I groaned at the thought that my drunkenness might have cost me her as well.

“What?” Sharon asked. Shaking out of my thoughts, I looked at her, confused.

“You groaned.”

“I was thinking about Tina.”

“Okay . . .”

“I was wondering what I should tell her about what I did last night.”

“Why should you tell her anything?” Sharon challenged. “Nothing happened.”

“Okay,” I admitted. “Nothing happened.”

“And nothing’s going to happen,” Sharon stated. Her voice had gone cold and her eyes had narrowed. “We’re just friends.”

I glanced over at the pile of pictures. Nothing?

“You should definitely keep seeing her,” Sharon said, not noticing where my gaze had gone. “It’s good for you to be dating someone besides Alicia.” I shot her a dark glare.

“Hey, I only mentioned her,” Sharon said. “Besides, if you don’t keep seeing Tina, how can I live vicariously?”

“Uh, by going on dates yourself?”

Sharon snorted. “The guys I’ve dated recently aren’t worth it.”

“You never went out with me,” I said.

“True,” she said. “But I’m not going to lose a friend by turning him into a boyfriend again.”

I was trying to figure out if she was referring to Allen or not when Sharon continued.

“I really don’t know what it is about guys. The ones you like don’t seem to get the hint you’re interested and the creeps and losers can’t seem to get the hint that you’re not.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t hint,” I suggested. Sharon glared at me hard. I shrank back in my seat.

“You don’t know what it’s like being a girl, Joe. If you’re too forward, you’re a slut. If you’re not forward enough, nothing happens.”

“Well, not much I can say to that.”

Sharon sighed. “I’d become a nun if I thought I could stand the celibacy.”

“You can always take things into your own hands,” I suggested.

“I do that,” she said. “but it gets old fast.”

“Well, I’m trying to provide some different stimulation to help with that.”

For the first time in the morning, Sharon grinned at me.

“Yes, you do do that.”

“I’ll try to keep being of service,” I said.

“Good,” Sharon replied. “And I do want to hear all about your adventures with Tina.”

“Will do.”

Sharon was still smiling as the conversation lulled.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Shower and then breakfast,” she said. “I think Dot’s Diner is open this morning.”

“Sounds good. You first in the shower or me?”

“Me. That way I can work on my hair while you’re showering.”

“All right.”

Sharon smiled, took a long sip of coffee and then stood. I sat at the table, feeling the pain meds kick in, as I listened to her bustle about and then start the water in the shower.

I figured I could at least gather up my stuff while I was waiting for my turn in the bathroom. I didn’t have much stuff out in the living room, so I wandered back to Sharon’s bedroom where I’d dropped some of my outer clothes. I gathered them up into a small pile and then sat down on the edge of the bed. Not having much to do, I just started looking around.

Sharon’s bedroom wasn’t as heavily decorated as I’d expected. Maybe it was because it was so crowded. After the queen-sized bed, vanity dresser, and computer table, there wasn’t much space for anything else. The teddy bear that had been so photogenic a few weeks ago sat smugly on the chair in front of the computer. I guessed he probably lived on the bed when visitors weren’t around. Beyond the teddy bear, next to the computer, Sharon had hung a photo collage of about a dozen pictures inside a single frame. I moved closer for a better look.

Almost all of the pictures were of Sharon and Allen. Most were of them together, dressed up like they were going out, or hanging out casually cuddling. I remembered taking a couple of them myself, when Sharon had passed me the camera before she and Allen went out on the town. There were also some pictures of Allen by himself, all smiling, all looking like there wasn’t a care in the world. The final picture was just of Sharon’s face, smiling dreamily into the camera. I wondered what might have happened just before it was shot.

The water stopped, so I backed away from the desk. A moment later Sharon entered wrapped in a towel.

“Your turn.”

“Great!”

I headed into the bathroom, shed my clothes, and hopped in. I adjusted the water so it was a little hotter than Sharon had set for herself. I had just reached for the soap when the bathroom door opened.

“I’m going to work on my hair now, okay?” Sharon called through the shower curtain.

“Sure!” I answered. I was a little self-conscious about her being just a thin piece of plastic away from naked me, but we’d been in this position before. Shortly the blow dryer started. I got soaped up just in time for the roar to stop and Sharon to call out to me.

“You know, Joe, we’ve already done photo shoots with all the lingerie I own. We might need to go shopping Friday.”

I swallowed hard. My offer from a few months ago, 'I’ll buy it if you’ll model it,’ came screaming back to mind and collided with the awareness of my bank account balance. Sharon could bankrupt me with one good trip to Christina’s Lingerie or Victoria’s Secret. I thought fast.

“Or we could take them somewhere besides your apartment,” I suggested. “Who says we have to use the blank wall as our main backdrop?”

“Hmmm. That’s a thought . . .”

The renewed blow dryer drowned out any following words Sharon might have had. I finished rinsing off and turned off the water. Sharon took a break in working on her hair at the same time.

“Here,” Sharon called. “Let me get you a towel.”

I thrust an arm out past the curtain and was rewarded with a handful of cotton. I pulled it back in and began drying off, just in time to hear the dryer roar again. I hesitated once I’d padded everything but my feet dry. I needed to step out, but Sharon hadn’t vacated the bathroom. Furthermore, she couldn’t hear me unless I shouted. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, so I wrapped the towel around my waist and pushed the curtain aside.

Sharon waved to me in the mirror as I stepped out, but didn’t stop teasing her hair with the comb and waving the blow dryer past it. She was wearing only a bra and panties, both plain and functional, and seemed fairly nonchalant. Well, why not? I’d seen her in just bra and panties before. I did my best to brush my feet without dropping the towel and settled for just rubbing them on the carpet. Then I scooped up my clothes and headed back into Sharon’s bedroom where I finished getting dressed.

Sharon came back in, smiled, opened the dresser, and grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt.

“So, where do you think might make a good shoot?” she asked as she dressed.

“I . . . uh . . . I thought campus might be nice. Maybe something like the story you sent me, where she’s wearing a garter belt under her coat.”

Sharon chuckled. “You really liked that story, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” I admitted.

“I’ll think about it then.”

With that, Sharon was dressed and we were off for breakfast. Dot’s was indeed open but crowded. We had a pleasant meal where the conversation drifted to more mundane topics and afterwards I headed back to my parents’ house.

I spent much of the rest of the day contemplating sites on campus where we might be able to take some decent photos. Since it was still break, I imagined that the stacks at the library might be deserted enough to work. We could probably also find a row of empty study carrels on the second floor. If the weather wasn’t too cold, there were probably some spots around Old Main that would work well. If we were quick, we probably wouldn’t get caught. Would Sharon be willing to take that risk?

She had in the showers with Allen, I realized. Maybe she would.

I didn’t get much more musing before the phone rang that night after dinner.

“Hey, bud.”

“Allen! What’s up?”

“I’ve been wondering where you’ve been. You never called to say you were back in town.”

“Uh, sorry man. I’ve been a little busy with family and such.”

“That’s okay,” Allen said without a trace of annoyance. “Listen, my parents got me a new VCR for Christmas. You want the old one we had back in the dorm?”

“The one with the remote that didn’t work? That rewound so slowly we thought about doing it by hand?”

“That one,” he said. “I’ll sell it to you for fifty bucks.”

“Done. When do you want to get together?”

“How about Friday?”

“I’m getting together with Sharon then.” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. “How about Thursday?”

“That works,” Allen said. “I’ll swing by your parents’ place at seven and we’ll go get a drink.”

When Thursday arrived, Allen was right on time. He’d saved the packing material for the VCR so I knew I’d be able to ship it to Tucson fairly easily. It had started snowing just a little before Allen had arrived. The streets weren’t too slick yet, but we agreed we didn’t want to drive too far just for a drink. We ended up at a Hooters not too far from my parent’s house.

“I’m not sure I like these places,” I commented as we walked in the door.

“What’s not to like?” Allen asked.

“Well, for one, I’m not a buffalo wings fan, and that's really all they do.”

“We’re not here for the food.”

“True. But that’s another thing. I hate the mixed message. The intentional ambiguity.”

“What?”

“If they want us to ogle the girls,” I said, “why not go all the way and make it like a strip club? Instead, they’re playing this stupid game where we’re here to look but we’re not supposed to be openly admitting it. All nudge-nudge, wink-wink.”

“So?”

“I hate that,” I answered.

“Really?” Allen said. He grinned a little and licked his lips as a waitress in a very tight top and shorts shorter than I thought possible took our order.

“Really.”

“So,” Allen drawled as the waitress walked away, his eyes never leaving her, “exactly what are you doing with Sharon tomorrow?”

“Uhhh . . . more photos, to be honest,” I replied. Allen’s turned to me, his grin broad.

“So are you two dating?”

“No, actually I’ve had two dates with the girl from the poster shop in Tucson. Tina.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s going fine,” I said. “Both dates went extremely well. She’s a great kisser too.” I couldn’t keep the happy grin off my face and Allen chuckled when he saw it. “I’m supposed to call her when I get back in town.”

“Cool.”

Our drinks arrived and Allen took a swig of his beer while I swirled the wine in my glass. I didn’t want to admit that part of the reason I disliked this place was they only served cheap crappy wine. It wasn’t just that I’d disliked the fact that Hooters pretended to have wholesome waitresses, I disliked the fact that it pretended to be a restaurant.

“So,” Allen said, “you’re not dating Sharon. But you are taking sexy photos of her. Are you sleeping with her?”

“No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, really? Just friends? Or is that friends with a nudge-nudge, wink-wink?”

My chin dropped and I stared at Allen.

“Weren’t you just saying something about not about not liking ambiguity?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Next round is on you.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Next round is on me.” Allen nodded.

“So what about you?” I asked. “Anything happen with that woman in Las Cruces?”

“Jenna? Things are good.”

“Have you seen her since Thanksgiving?”

“She came up for New Year’s,” Allen answered.

“Really? You guys didn’t come to Kim’s party.”

“We had better ways to celebrate,” Allen said with a leer. I rolled my eyes and decided not to ask.

“I’m thinking of moving down there,” Allen continued.

“Really? Why?”

“I’ve got nothing holding me here,” he said. “I can tend bar just as well there as here.”

“So you’d move for this woman?”

“Jenna,” Allen corrected. “Why not? We get along fine. The sex is incredible. And like I said, it’s not like there’s anything holding me here.”

“You could look for a serious job,” I suggested.

“Which I can do in Las Cruces just as well as here,” Allen shot back.

“Okay,” I conceded. “Have you thought about what you’ll look for?”

Allen started talking about some research he’d been doing into careers in forensics with police departments. He’d need some more schooling, but it looked like a reasonable choice with his anthropology degree. Allen also talked a little more about Jenna and about things he’d liked in his visit to Las Cruces.

“You realize, you were there in November, and Las Cruces gets hot in the summer?”

“It can’t be much worse than Tucson, and you’re surviving.”

“But I’m trying to get the hell out of there,” I shot back.

“Yeah, you say that now . . .”

“And why would I change my mind?” I asked.

“Only two dates with Tina?” Allen mused. “You’re right, you might not change your mind.”

I shot Allen a dirty glare but he just smiled and then turned to watch one of the waitresses sashay across the room. But then I started thinking about his point. Tina was a freshman, committed to staying in Tucson for at least another four years. I still wanted the hell out of there.

Shit.

Allen must have seen my face cloud over. He clanked his bottle on the table to get my attention.

“Just talk to Tina when you get back,” he said. “She may be okay with your plans. And if not, it’s better for her to know now rather than later.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll talk to her.”

“So, have your plans for leaving gotten more specific?” Allen asked.

“Not really,” I answered. “I’ll be done with the core courses for a Master’s this spring. Then I’ve got some options.”

“Like what?”

I proceeded to tell Allen about the various ways one could get a Master’s at Arizona and the types of jobs each of those might lead to. Allen asked a few questions and made polite noises in all the appropriate spots. The conversation turned to his plans and he told me more about Jenna and what they did together outside of the bedroom. She shared Allen’s love of being outdoors, far from the traces of civilization. She also kept up with him when they went bicycling and skiing—no small feat, given how strong Allen was.

As he spoke about her, I noticed Allen’s voice get lower and his face soften. He also looked more at me and less at the waitresses.

“Sounds like you’re really happy with her,” I said during a pause in his stories.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

I looked past Allen at the windows. The snow was really falling hard now.

“Maybe we should go,” I said, gesturing at the building storm. Allen nodded, we paid the check, and headed out. While the snow was coming down hard, we had no trouble on the roads. We said goodbye and agreed to touch base once he’d settled in New Mexico.

The snow was still falling the next morning, more gently though, when Sharon called.

“Hey, Joe! I was wondering if we’re still on for this afternoon?”

“I don’t see why not. Allen and I had no problem with the roads last night and it’ll only get better today.”

“Oh? You went out with Allen?”

“Yeah, he sold me the old VCR.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s happy,” I answered. “He’s moving to Las Cruces.”

“Really? Why? What’s in Las Cruces?”

Shit. Well, since I’d already opened my mouth.

“He met someone. She lives there. They seem to be happy.”

“Oh.”

A long pause followed.

“Well, at least he’s happy,” Sharon finally said.

“He’s happy,” I replied.

“So, anyway,” I continued, “I’m confident I can make it up.”

“Great,” Sharon said, her voice flat. “See you then.”

We hung up and throughout the rest of the morning and the drive up I replayed the conversation in my mind. Had I screwed up in mentioning Allen? Sooner or later someone would have told her about his move. I didn’t quite know what to think.

When I arrived, Sharon answered the door in a sweatshirt and jeans. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face pale and haggard.

“I’m sorry, Joe, I’m not feeling well,” she said as we headed to the couch.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, being sick sucks.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, probably just something I ate. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better in a little while.”

“That’s good.”

“But I don’t feel like doing pictures,” Sharon said, not looking at me.

“That’s okay,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “We can do something else. How about a movie?”

Sharon looked up and gave me a small smile. “That sounds good.”

We managed to get bundled up and out to a matinee that was nearly deserted, despite the fact that the plows had had time to clear the roads. Sharon had cheered up some by the time the film was over and so I offered to buy dinner at the Red Robin restaurant next door. I made a conscious effort to tell some funny stories from my past over our drinks and Sharon even managed to laugh once or twice before we headed back to her place. She was quiet on the drive.

“Well, I suppose we could still do some pictures,” Sharon said once we’d shed our coats and boots in her entryway.

“We’ve lost the light to go tour campus,” I observed.

“Yeah, and I’m really not in the mood to try to look sexy.”

“So we do it next time,” I suggested. Sharon’s eyes lit up.

“That’s a great idea. That would give us more time to plan something special.” Sharon laid back on the couch while I sank into the chair opposite her. “Maybe do a theme shoot.”

“Or tell a story,” I suggested. “The really good ones from last time were the ones that were before and after shots of you unhooking your bra.”

“Only instead of doing only two, we do a sequence,” Sharon mused.

“Yeah,” I said, “I’d been thinking of doing some shots in the library stacks. Maybe we could turn it into ‘The Naughty Librarian.’” That drew a genuine laugh from Sharon.

“I can see it now. The glasses, the hair in the bun, the conservative skirt.”

“Don’t forget the innocent look,” I said. “At least at the beginning.”

“I think I can do that,” she said.

“Or we could do teacher/student,” I said. “That’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Ohhh, really?” Sharon asked, perking up.

“Absolutely. I’m up lecturing in front of the class and there’s a hot woman sitting in the first row. As I lecture, she starts letting her skirt ride up—”

“Flashing her panties,” Sharon said, interrupting.

“Actually, in my fantasy, she’s not wearing panties,” I admitted.

“Oh, ho! I’m not doing that, Joe.”

“That’s okay. I’m not asking you to fulfill my fantasy,” I said. “I was just throwing out an idea and you asked.”

“Well, let’s see what other ideas we can come up with.”

“Plenty, if we’re willing to look into costumes,” I said. “Naughty nurse, seductive secretary, cheerleader . . .”

“Costumes sound like a lot of work,” Sharon interjected.

“So what do you suggest?” I challenged.

“Mmmm, I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe we should do one of your fantasies,” I suggested. Sharon chuckled.

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because only a few of my fantasies have me in front of the camera.”

“So? Pretend the camera’s not there. I’m sure we can shoot something interesting.”

“Without the guy? That’s going to be pretty tough.”

“We’re creative,” I insisted. “Which of the stories in the erotica books did you like? We could do one of those.”

“I don’t know,” Sharon said, hedging. “We could give it a shot.”

“Well, where are they?”

“Tucked under my bed.”

I nodded and got up. The books weren’t hard to find. Sharon had shifted into a more comfortable position on the couch when I’d returned and pulled a blanket over her lap.

“Any particular one I should try?”

“Read me the titles,” Sharon suggested. I did and she commented on a couple. I picked the one that looked like it might be the most interesting and started reading out loud. Sharon smiled and closed her eyes, just listening. I finished the story and, while it was plenty steamy, I didn’t see how we’d be able to get any good pictures from it. I started reading a second, which was more promising. When I looked over at Sharon, she opened her eyes and gave me a small smile.

“Keep reading.”

I nodded and continued with the second story, though it was clear that it couldn’t be photographed if Sharon wasn’t willing to pose nude. I started a third story, this one focused on the female protagonist’s pursuit of a rugged cowboy type. The story climaxed, literally, with them having fantastic sex in the bed of his truck. I glanced over to see Sharon with a dreamy smile on her face. Both hands were under the blanket.

“This last one might be photographable,” I said. “If we could borrow a truck from someone.”

“My uncle has a truck,” she said. “In Albuquerque.”

“Well, we could do a shoot in New Mexico,” I mused. “Albuquerque is halfway between Boulder and Tucson. What would be the story line?”

“Make it up,” she said. “You’re good at that.”

“Now?”

“Sure,” Sharon answered. “Something like the one you just read—a guy coming through town, maybe moving, when his car breaks down in the New Mexico desert.”

“. . . and the girl pulls up in the truck,” I finished.

“Yeah!”

This time it was my turn to chuckle.

“Okay, let’s see what I can do.” I paused. Sharon leaned back and closed her eyes again.

“So, let’s see . . . our hero is moving from Colorado.”

“To Colorado,” Sharon interjected.

“Okay, to Colorado,” I conceded. “So he’s driving north, just outside of Albuquerque, when his car breaks down. It turns out he’d lost a lot of oil with a cracked oil pan and had been watching the oil light. It never came on because the bulb was burned out and so he froze up his engine. Good thing you came along about then.”

“Absolutely. Seeing as how I was driving back to Colorado from visiting my folks, I could give him a ride.”

“So you stop to pick him up and you two start talking and find out you get along. There’s some laughing and some flirting. He asks if you mind if he takes his shirt off, given how hot it is and how much oil and grease is on it. You don’t mind. He’s buff, of course.”

“Mmmm. Of course. From all the biking he does.”

“Absolutely,” I replied, picking up the cue. “You talk about riding and the best routes around Boulder. He mentions that he’s looking forward to it once he finds a place to live. You start suggesting places.”

“So when does this story get interesting?” Sharon asked.

“Right now,” I answered. I made up a lunch stop that resulted in our hero spilling his drink on his pants. Trying to wash it off just made things worse and it was clear that he wanted to take them off but was embarrassed. The fictional ‘Sharon’ told him she’d take some of her clothes off so that he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. They’d take the back roads so they wouldn’t encounter many other cars or any cops that might not like their state of dress.

The story continued by describing how their banter became more and more sexually teasing. After a fair amount of joking, the story ‘Sharon’ pulled over to let the guy drive. Instead, when they were both standing outside, the truck pulled into some trees along the back road, he pulled her to him and kissed her. The kisses became more passionate and their hands began to roam before they got a blanket out of the cab and spread it in the bed of the truck.

As I described how the guy was kissing Sharon’s breasts and slowly working his way south, I realized that her hands were definitely moving under the blanket. The motions were small and constrained, but concentrated below her waist. Her eyes were closed, so I decided I could risk watching more openly as I continued to talk.

In the story, the guy ate Sharon to two incredible orgasms before climbing up on top of her. His thick cock and expert skills drove her to three more orgasms in a variety of positions. He finished by having her stand on the ground, bent over the hood of the truck, as he pounded into her from behind. That’s when he came, shooting deep inside her.

That’s also when Sharon let out a slow moan, clenched her teeth and visibly shuddered. She gasped, but didn’t open her eyes. She made three more short body jerks before letting out a satisfied sigh. Only then did she open her eyes and give me a loopy grin.

“Good story,” Sharon said.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Good show.”

Sharon gave a sheepish roll of the eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure we can figure out a way to get some good photos with a truck,” I said. “Maybe over spring break in Albuquerque?”

“Sure.”

I realized that if I kept speaking, I was going to sound stupid. Sharon seemed to be fumbling with something under the blankets—rebuttoning her jeans, I realized. In the silence, we heard the wind howl, hinting that the storm must be starting again.

“You should get going,” she said. “The roads aren’t going to be good for much longer.”

“I could stay,” I suggested.

“No. I want to take a bath and be by myself for a while,” Sharon replied.

“Okay. I’ll get going then.”

I stood and Sharon walked me to the door. She gave me a big hug and then I headed out into the night. I had to be honest, after watching Sharon, I was ready for some ‘alone’ time myself.

--Fin--

© 2005, all rights reserved.

Read the next chapter in this story: Chapter Nine

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