Ed had been very apologetic on the phone. Couldn't get away, expecting another call, wife coming home early, going out to dinner tonight... It had been an amazingly long list, longer even than Ellen suspected a professional storyteller could make up, so she forgave him. Instead Ed was sending his son to pick the papers up, which would take substantially less time than picking them up himself, and left her wondering what to do with her afternoon, and what his son was like. Ellen hadn't seen William since the housewarming party eight years ago. She remembered the party well. Ed had taken a picture of her in the water, in her bikini, laughing and playing with William. She looked darn good in that picture. Eight years younger and eight years firmer. A wet, happy, busty blond editor being photographed by her lover the writer. William, on the other hand, was a scrawny red-haired 10 year old who looked enough like her slightly older, bulkier red-haired sons that people at the party kept mistaking them for brothers.

Ellen wondered if Ed still had that picture, if he looked at it often, if he remembered as well as she did sneaking into the house and locking the bedroom door and fucking her on her husband's bed without even removing their swimsuits while the splashes and cries and conversation from below wafted in through the window. She wondered if William ever looked at the picture, whether he wondered, whether he was excited by the sight of her, whether he would still be excited now.

The phone rang. Ellen answered. It was the secretary at the front desk announcing that some weird looking kid was here to see her. He wasn't that weird looking, Ellen decided when she arrived at the desk. In fact he kind of looked like a lankier, wilder version of her husband; definitely more like his mother than his dark, compact Mediterranean father. It was always interesting to her to see what happened when two very different looking people had kids. With her husband the only question had been whether they were going to be blonde or red. She couldn't think for the life of her why she'd been anticipating that William would have been transformed in the last eight years to look like his father. Wishful thinking maybe. But despite the lack of outer appearance, he had an air of his father about him, a look in the eye, a calm enforced controlledness, perhaps concealing the same great rage and passion that still excited her beyond all common sense.

Ellen realized then that she had been staring. And he was staring back, little muscle twinges playing at the corners of his mouth, his head at a 45 degree angle, a gesture also inherited from his father, but on William looking more like Big Bird. For a moment she had a strong urge to hug him, perhaps to recreate the picture, perhaps out of a sense that he was family, perhaps because she wanted to feel how hard he was. But the moment passed, and she hadn't moved.

She smiled instead, and gestured at him to follow her. He raised his eyebrows quizzically (wow, he really had gotten all the mannerisms, if not the looks), and strode after her. Ellen took about five paces down the hall before looking back over her shoulder both to ask him how he was, and to confirm that he was watching her ass while they walked. "Good" he answered. "You?"

"Good" she smiled back. Not much of a talker though, she thought, turning into her office, and walking around behind the desk. The papers were in the bottom drawer, and she had dressed anticipating Ed. Bending over to get the papers out she gave William a good look at her breasts. He was smiling again when she stood up, but the office door was still open, and he hadn't moved from just inside it. If he noticed that she'd dragged him all the way back here instead of bringing the papers up to the front desk, he certainly wasn't commenting on it.

Ellen walked back to where William was standing. Stopping directly in front of him and affording him another good look down her dress, she stared into his eyes and said "it's good to see you again" as she held up the papers, not quite handing them over.

"You too" he answered, and taking the papers from her hand he gave a wink, a little salute, said "thanks" and strode off down the hall, to the front desk, to the front door, and home.

Ellen gave a bemused little laugh, shook her head, closed and locked the office door, then called the front desk and asked them to hold all her calls for half an hour. She walked over to the white leather couch that dominated one wall of the office, the couch she'd been planning on sharing with Ed. She thought about calling him, but then remembered he'd said he was expecting another call. Ellen stared at the couch, running her hands across the leather, soaking in its energy, remembering the times they'd spent on it, naked, or nearly naked, the long slow screws, the frantic fucks, the luxurious kisses and the blowjobs.

Very deliberately Ellen removed her dress, folded it across the back of her desk chair, stepped off her shoes, and sat on the couch, sinking back into the luxury of the leather, her pale skin, her light blond hair, her pale blue eyes and her light pink nipples almost disappearing in the whiteness.

Ellen closed her, eyes, stroked her nipples, and thought about Ed. She thought about her husband. She thought about William. She pictured William staring at her ass, staring at her breasts, imagining her here, on the couch, thinking about him. She wondered if William looked like her husband naked. She wondered what it would have taken to find out, to entice him onto the couch, to make him grab her and kiss her the way his father did. She wondered if William kissed like his father. She wondered if William fucked like his father, or if he would fuck her silently and fiercely. Ellen's right hand stole between her legs, and she began to stroke her clit lightly as she flicked at her nipples with a long pink nail. She imagined sucking William's cock as he sat quietly on the couch, herself on all fours perpendicular to him, her ass in the air, William's hands on the back of her head, urging her on silently. She imagined Ed kneeling behind her, fucking her hard, urging her on verbally, roughly, crudely, calling her his whore, and his slut, and his beautiful blond bitch, slapping her ass, as she sucked on William's cock and thrust her hips back against Ed's cock, driving it deeper into her cunt and William's deeper into her mouth, feeling them both tense. Her hands were moving faster now, the left pinching and pulling and squeezing her nipples, the right hand rubbing furiously. She could feel her own tension mounting "Oh yes", imagined theirs mounting, mentally added her husband, sitting in the desk chair, his back against her neatly folded dress, stroking his own cock and watching, about to come. "Oh God." Ed about to come. "Fuck me." William about to come. "Oh yes." Her husband coming. "Oh God." William coming. "Fuck me" Ed coming. "Oh yes." Ellen coming. "Oh yes. Oh God. FUCK ME! "

Ellen lay back on the couch, trembling and spent. She smiled to herself. Nothing had gone as planned, but so far it hadn't been such a bad day after all.