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Message-ID: <28653asstr$980950201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Love Pirate <buckaneer@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} An Early Call, Lunch and After (No Sex) 3/7
Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2001 09:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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This story is an original work of fiction. It in no way resembles any
persons living or deceased. It is purely a work of fantasy and is
intended for the use of adults only. If you are under the age of 18, or
are prohibited by law to have access to such materials, please stop
reading now.

Feel free to distribute this work freely, provided it remains
unchanged, with credit given to the author. Please download and enjoy
it!

Any feedback, suggestions or criticisms are all welcome and greatly
encouraged. Please, tell me what you think.

Love Pirate
buckaneer@my-deja.com


	Gerri gave me a ride over to the restaurant. On the way I
learned that she was the program director at the University City
project and that she was a nurse by profession. She even volunteered
that she was 36 years old and divorced, with no children. In the car
she came across as cynical and witty, a little hard-boiled. She was
staying over in Capital City that night because the feds from the
regional office which had jurisdiction over our state were coming in
that night for a "by invitation only" planning meeting the next day.
While Sandy, the state director, was a stick in the mud, Gerri was good
friends with some of the feds and she was looking forward to a bit of
partying with them that very night.
	We got the private room and ordered from the menu. Gerri
restarted the meeting while our food was being prepared. She really ran
through the rest of the agenda items. It was clear that nobody on the
Council wanted to tangle with her, so what Gerri wanted, Gerri got. By
the time the food was served we were almost done with the agenda. She
kept the meeting going while we ate and got near the end before anyone
had finished lunch. Before she came to the closing items of next
month's time and place she took a detour, something completely
unexpected.
	"Say," she said, "there's a theater in town showing 'Deep
Throat.' Afternoon show starts at 2. I haven't seen it and would like
to. Anybody care to go with me?" I looked down the long table. What a
collection of strange looks! She was getting no takers. "Hey", I
thought, "it can't be that long a film. She's got a car and can get me
to the airport. Why not?" I raised my hand and said, "I'll go." After
that, Gerri adjourned the meeting.
	This was going to be a new one for me. I had never been to see
a porno film in a theater. Now I was going to see one with a woman I
hardly knew, at her suggestion. Intriguing. But, I had better be "a
gentleman" and let her make the first moves, if there were to be any
moves at all. I knew she was something of a feminist and figured she
would not appreciate some guy pawing her in the movies. Besides, she
had the car. If she didn't appreciate my behavior she could just bounce
out of there and leave me stranded. This afternoon would require a good
deal of self-discipline!
	Did it ever! After getting lost on the way to the movie, we
finally made it and sat down in an almost empty theater. The film
started. I think Gerri spent her time watching "Deep Throat." Mostly I
watched Gerri and sweated, and kept my hands to myself. As I did the
old blue balls started making themselves known again. "What an idiot
you are," I thought, "You keep putting yourself in one frustrating
situation after another.
	I don't remember much about the movie. What I do remember is
the torture of sitting next to a reasonably attractive woman in a movie
theater, watching a porno movie with all that sucking and fucking, and
keeping my hands to myself and away from my groin. It was torture. When
I glanced over to my right Gerri seemed quite engrossed in the movie,
but I didn't detect any hand or body motions that might have indicated
she was aroused. From time to time she leaned forward in her seat,
seemingly to get a better look at the screen. That seemed to be the
total of her reaction.
	Finally the movie was over. It was about a quarter to four and
my plane was at six thirty. I told her I should probably get over to
airport hotel where I had spent the night and where my luggage was
stashed, and then to the airport. "Fine," she said. "I'm going there
too. That's where I'm spending the night and where I'm going to meet my
friends from the regional office. I'll drive you there. Maybe we can
have a drink or two and then I'll take you to the airport." Sounded
good to me. We took off in her car.
	It had a short, relaxed trip to the hotel. We talked about the
movie, its little puzzles and its production values. (I guess I had
seen some of the movie after all.) All of a sudden I began to see that
Gerri had her fun side. When we got to the hotel she checked in and got
her room key and stowed her luggage in the room. I checked on my
luggage and it behind the front desk. We met in five minutes at the
cocktail lounge, where we grabbed a table, ordered some drinks and
began to tell each other our "stories." She talked about an early
marriage, no kids, a divorce after five years, and working as a nurse
in a university town. She finally moved into agency work and as her
competence asserted itself eventually was appointed the director of her
agency.
	I told her about my life; an early marriage, two kids,
seminary, working with small congregations, a messy divorce less than a
year before, and then a strange sidewise move into agency work because
I had been an advocate for the agency's mission while working as a
clergyman. She asked about the messy part of the divorce and I came
clean. I had "messed" with other women, a lot. My wife also had some
outside male interests, and this was supposed to be something agreed on
between us. But when I got less than discrete with my affairs, even
reckless, some folks in my congregation found out what was happening
and boy, did they get mad. At that point it all got too much for my
wife and we agreed that I should move out. I stayed on for a year and a
half, keeping my extra-curricular interests under cover, as it were. I
confessed that I still was not well connected socially in River City
and was missing that dimension of life badly.
	Then she started talking about her interpersonal involvements.
I suppose it was the movie and the drinks and the honest talk from me,
but she began describing her sex life, which, since the end of her
marriage had been varied indeed. Obviously she liked men, especially
men who knew who they were and weren't afraid to be with a strong
woman. It certainly sounded like she had had a lot of them; lots of
different kinds in lots of different circumstances. She confided in me
that the great love of her life was a certain psychiatrist she had met
while nursing. They had had an affair, but alas, he was happily married
and eventually broke it off because, as he said, "I don't want to
destroy my marriage."
	All of this was sounding very good, as if she was quite
available, and with three drinks under my belt she began looking better
and better. There might be a possibility of something developing
between us when next I journeyed to Capital City to report to the
board. But I knew it was getting late and when I looked at my watch I
saw it was five thirty. Uh-oh. "Gerri, we better pick up my luggage and
get me to the airport." She agreed and we started to get up from the
table. I moved close to her and said, "I'm sure glad I didn't try to
put the moves on you and satisfy my sexual needs. Otherwise I never
would have gotten to know you." She came even closer and whispered in
my ear, "That's fine about your sexual needs, but what about my sexual
needs?" Without a pause I said, "Well, why don't we take care of them
right now." "What about your plane." "There's always another plane," I
answered.


Sent via Deja.com
http://www.deja.com/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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