In For A Penny, In For A Pound

I noticed that her diction had improved greatly since the last time we had talked. Her poor Louisiana accent wasn't completely gone, but it was barely noticeable. She sounded surer of herself, confident. She was always cocky, but this was different. Even now, trying to describe it is difficult.

"Ahh! Who could have guessed? A Favor! What can I do for you?"

"Well, you remember my uncle Martin. He's retiring and has decided to move to Europe. He wanted me to go with him, but I'm just not ready for that. I was thinking about moving back to Louisiana."

"Great! Let's have dinner! That's not much of a favor."

"The favor part is that my plane lands in the morning and I need someone to pick me up from the airport."

"I can do that. Short notice, but I can manage it. What time?"

"9:45 am. ...and I need a place to stay."

My heart leapt! Just the thought of her staying with me was exciting, but I wasn't sure why. I didn't really have romantic feelings for her. It wasn't that. But she was an exciting girl, wild and spirited. And when the two of us were together, trouble followed.

"How long...?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, no. Not permanently. My apartment will be ready in a few days, but my furniture and stuff won't be there for another week. Honestly I feel badly about it. I had asked my college roommate, you remember Stacy, and she said yes. Then her husband vetoed it. I guess he has too many memories of me from the old days. That's why this is so last minute."

"In that case, done and done! I'll see you tomorrow."

"You're the best Paul. I owe you a beer."

"You owe me more than that."

"A blowjob?" She asked jokingly.

"At least. Pack a lot of mouthwash."

We both hung up the phone laughing. We were already falling into the old habit of dirty jokes and lots of insults. But even so, I had felt my cock stir in my pants when she had mentioned the blow job. I wondered if it was really on the menu.

I am a bachelor and there are only two kinds of bachelors in the world; the freakishly clean ones and the disgustingly messy ones. I am firmly in the messy category. To counter my natural tendency toward entropy I have a maid that comes three times a week and I manage to keep the house reasonably clean between her visits. I called her and arranged for her to come first thing in the morning to change the linens in the guest room, and make sure all the bathrooms and kitchen were girl appropriate. Part of me wondered why I was going through all of this for a girl that I wasn't really interested in. But somewhere I knew that was just an excuse. I was excited by the thought of seeing her again.

As excited as I was then, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I got to the airport. The last time I saw her in person, her hair was still bushier than was fashionable, she was too slender weighing maybe 110 and she dressed more unisex than anything else. The years had been very kind to her. She had straightened her hair and gained enough weight that she no longer looked like a street waif. Most of it seemed to land in places where I liked a woman curvy. She was dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt, but now her wardrobe accentuated her figure. Her clothes and luggage were all expensive European imports, and she walked with a sultry sway to her hips that turned more than a few heads. Her face was older, and more knowledgeable than it used to be, but much prettier.

"Welcome Home," I said as casually as I could.

"Give me a hug, tough guy." She had genuine warmth in her smile and voice.

I hugged her and felt her squeeze her body against mine, making no attempt not to press her breasts into my chest. She leaned up to kiss me on the lips, something she had never done before but felt friendly and easy. She was natural and confident with it all... including handing me her bag to carry for her.

She took my arm as I led her back the car and there was enough sway in her walk that her hip bumped into mine every few steps. It was a subtle little maneuver on her part that could have easily been mistaken for the way she was walking, but it drew my complete sexual attention to her and kept it there. We made small little talk on the way to the car, how was the flight, the weather is cool, so rare here, etc.

I loaded her bags into the trunk, and asked "Hungry?"

"Starving!"

"Steak?"

"Steak and drinks," she replied with enthusiasm. The airport is in New Orleans, and there is no small number of excellent places to eat there. I steered the little grey Mercedes to a rough neighborhood, and then down a trashy, poorly lit alley. I came around to help her out of the car and we stepped from the squalor of the streets into a lavish steak house. It's hard for people that have never been to New Orleans to understand, but the city is 300 years old and has been famous for its corruption and lack of rules that entire time. Even the zoning laws don't make sense. There are tenements in the middle of upscale shopping areas and in this case an amazing steak house down an alley in an industrial area by the docks.

When we sat, Amanda ordered us a couple of drinks without asking what I wanted and excused herself to the ladies room to freshen up. As she was walking back up, the gin martinis arrived along with a board of thick black bread and fresh churned butter. Without bothering ourselves with talk, we tucked into the food and drink and just about the time we were finishing this plate, another arrived with more drinks and bread. We stopped eating long enough to order our steaks.

She tricked me into going first by claiming she was still looking at the menu. I ordered my steak medium rare, and she ordered a larger one and very rare. A grin creased my lips and I felt that old spirit of competition kick in again.

I very openly looked over her body and asked "Where are you going to put a 24 ounce steak?"

"The usual place," she answered. "Why, did you have some suggestions?"

"None that wouldn't get us kicked out, and I like this place so no. None."

"You will have to tell me about those later. " She said with a wink. "I guess I'm just really hungry and need some meat in me."

As soon as she said it I saw her blush just a bit. She had not meant it to come out so blatantly sexual. She tried to cover it and fumbled and that made us both laugh.

When the steaks came she set into hers like a ravenous beast. There has always been something attractive to me about a woman that enjoys every aspect of her life, including eating with single minded determination. The juices from the overly rare steak, combined with the grease from the butter she put on it made her lips and chin glisten in the candle light from the table.

True to her word, she finished the whole meal, burped and ordered another drink for dessert. This one was a sweet, frilly concoction, and I declined, opting for a coffee instead.

Back in the car it wasn't long before she started drifting off to sleep with the motion of the road. I tuned in a jazz station and she fell truly and deeply asleep with her head on the passenger's side door. The drive back to my house was an hour or more, and I let her sleep. She'd had a long day of travel.

I pulled into the circular driveway of my house starting to feel a little sleepy myself. I unloaded her bags and brought them inside, setting them by the steps. Then went back outside to wake her. She was reluctant to wake and I was wondering if I was going to have to carry her inside. My cock instantly stood at attention when I remembered the last time that had happened. In any event, it wasn't necessary. She stirred and made a few sounds of satisfaction and contentment, maybe a little protest from being disturbed, but none the less I got her out of the car and walking under her own power to the house.

"Its bigger than I thought," she said.

"I hear that all the time."

"Shut the fuck up with that," she said. Now awake and not letting me get away with anything. "I meant the house, not your dick."

I chuckled a bit "You want the grand tour or you just want to go to bed."

"Tour then bed."

I live in a fairly large house, but not overly so. It looks larger because I am extremely conservative on what furnishings I put it in. I like lots of space, and limiting the furniture helps. Still it's a 4 bedroom house with a pool and hot tub outside and a small gym on the second floor.

She made all the proper oooing and ahhhing sounds that she was supposed to make when I said things like "I laid this floor myself" or "I took out the wall here to make the kitchen larger." By the time the tour had made it upstairs her eyes were starting to close again and her responses were getting flat. I showed her where her room was and where her private bathroom was and kissed her forehead good night. As I was leaving the room she said "Thanks for rescuing me. I knew I could count on you."

"Anytime. That's what friends are for."

I went to bed thinking of the changes I had seen in her. She was older and more elegant and obviously sexier than she had ever been before, but that same old fire burned just below the surface and that part of me was challenged and attracted to that part of her, as it had always been.

The next morning I awoke to a soft, steady sound of dink, dink, dink, in slow rhythm, and a raging hard on. The erection was nothing surprising but the sound was. It took me a moment to realize that I had someone else in the house with me and that the gym was on the other side of my bedroom wall. I rolled out of bed, stopped at the bathroom to piss, and that relieved the pressure enough for me to slip on a pair of boxer shorts. Making sure everything was tucked in and the fly was buttoned I padded on bare feet down the hall to the small in-home gym I have. Amanda was deep in the middle of a workout. It looked like she had started on one of the cardio machines, either the rowing machine or the treadmill and worked up quite a sweat. Now she was on the butterfly arm press I had picked up when a local fitness club had gone out of business. She was wearing a long white t-shirt, old and comfortable looking with her bare legs sticking out. Her sweat has made it semitransparent and the ghosts of her nipples were visible through it as her breasts strained the fabric. I looked with open interest noting that in this state her breasts were much larger than the last time I had seen her. I wondered if, in addition to gaining some much needed weight, she had also had a little work done.

"Morning," she said cheerily.

"Morning," I answered back. "You're getting an early start."

"Still on New York time," she answered, a little out of breath. "Hope you don't mind. I didn't have any workout clothes.

"I don't mind at all. But you might want to check the closet in there if you're short of anything. I have guests from time to time and they invariable leave things. When they do I always clean them and hang them back up in the closet. If you feel like a swim later, I bet there is a swimsuit that would fit you."

"Awesome! How about you make us some coffee?"

"That I can do. Meet me downstairs when you're done."

Casual seemed to be the dress code of the day so I felt no real desire to put on any more clothes. If she was going to walk around half naked, I wasn't going to do anything to discourage her.

About the time the coffee pot stopped making its gurgling noise I heard her coming downstairs. She was dressed the same as she was for working out. The shirt had dried a little and her movements weren't pressing her breasts into the fabric, but it was still a sexy look. I have always liked the look of a woman with bare legs coming out of a shirt.

She took the cup of coffee I was pouring for myself out of my hand with a wink and took a sip. She made a little face and said "bitter" but took it anyway and made a slow turn to look around my living room. It was a nice living room, as far as that went. I have a lot of glass that looks out on my pool and then the lake and woods beyond it. I poured another cup for myself and when I turned around her back was to me and she was half way across the room. I was just settling in to enjoy the view of her back side when she set her cup down on the table and proceeded to tie her hair in a ponytail with a rubber band thingy to help it up. When she lifted her arms the hem of her shirt lifted, exposing her bare ass to me. It was perfect and round and I was a little surprised she wasn't wearing panties. My dick sprang to attention and knowing that I only had on a pair of boxers, I stepped behind the kitchen island.

"You really do have a beautiful house here," she said, turning around and letting her hands fall back to her coffee cup before I could see what the shirt revealed in the front.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. What do you have planned today."

"Not much to be honest. This last week has been a whirlwind, and tomorrow I have to go to the bank and sign the papers on the bar. Then there is that whole thing to take care of. So I thought I may just take it easy today. "

"Bar?" I asked more than a little surprise.

"Well, club. I'm opening a dance club here in town. Uncle Martin is my backer."

"Nice!" I said and meant it.

"So I think I may just take it easy around here today so I'm rested for tomorrow. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course. I have to go to work, but you should have a good time."

"I plan on it." She gave me another wink and set off back upstairs. I could hear her say as she was walking away "Maybe I'll see if I can't find that swimsuit after all"

I was dressed and headed out of the house 10 minutes later. As I passed by her rooms I could hear the shower running and what sounded like some singing that I couldn't make out. I knew she would find several bikinis in there. I kept a few for when I had lady friends over so they could never refuse to go swimming because they didn't have an outfit. There were several sizes and styles, but, funny enough all of them became almost completely transparent when wet. I wished I could stay for that part. I could have called into work, but I was becoming more and more sexually charged by this woman I had once known and I wanted some time to set my thinking straight before I made a move too soon and ruined anything. But still, in the back of my mind I knew I would have her again before she left my home. And a voice in my head said "one way or another".

Work progressed pretty slowly that day. I have a few security cameras set up around my home. I checked them a couple of times from my computer and I saw her swimming laps and I saw her lying in the sun. The definition is good, but from that angle she looked small. When she was tanning her back I couldn't tell if she was topless or not, but it didn't really matter.

The truth is that I have a lot of cameras about the house. I'm a security professional after all. Several times I thought about checking the ones in her bedroom or bathroom. Just thinking about it made my heart beat faster in by chest, but ultimately I decided against it. The thought was exciting though.

When I got home she was showered clean, and dressed casually but more fully; jeans again, and a comfortable looking, loose fitting purple top. Purple was a good color on her. It played off her skin well.

"How was your day?"

"It was good" she said. "I stayed by the pool all day and read and swam and drank a ton of margaritas."

She sounded a little bit tipsy, mainly because she was accenting her words more.

"So what do you want to do? Go out somewhere or eat in? I can cook pasta?"

"You cook?" She asked a little surprised.

"Sure do. Stay in?"

"Yeah," she said. "I need to get to bed early because I have to be at the bank in the morning. It may work out better if we don't go out."

"Shrimp and Alfredo it is, then"

I started gathering the ingredients and put her to work preparing the salad and setting the table. I opened a nice bottle of wine for the cooking and then a nicer one with the meal. We were both drinking pretty heavily and she spent the meal telling me all about her plans for a dance club. I'm not a fan of clubs, but I listened and chimed in where I was supposed to with how smart it all sounded.

After dinner we shared a second bottle of wine and she was definitely getting sleepy. She announced her plans to go to bed early and I agreed, although with a little disappointment in my voice. I was a little tipsy from the wine, and after she went upstairs I wasn't ready for the night to end without having any fun at all. I waited for her to get in her room and then I went to my home office and turned on my computer.

A quick word on security: For people that work in security paranoia quickly becomes a vice. It's easy to let it permeate your entire life. So when I bought this house and remodeled it, I built a camera into every room. Did I do it with the intention of spying on my house guests in intimate situations? No. It was for security. Have I ever done it before? Well...

It took only a moment or two to bring the wifi feeds from the cameras in her bathroom and bedroom up on the computer. The bathroom was L shaped and the camera took in the side with the shower and toilet, but not the vanity and mirror. The bedroom camera light was off and there was no movement I could see at first. The only light was coming from the door of the bathroom. After a moment she walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She had a tooth brush in her mouth and had taken her shirt off. She was wearing a conservative white bra as her only top. As I watched she cross the room and unbuttoned her jeans. They were tight on her and she had to shimmy out of them. She got them half way off, and realized her shoes were still on. She stepped out of them and then pulled the jeans off one leg at a time. She was wearing a white lace thong, and I got a good look at it from behind when she walked back to the bathroom.

I unbuttoned my pants and slid my hand in. My dick was already rock hard and I started stroking it. Almost as an afterthought I pressed the record button on the cameras I was watching.

The camera in the bedroom was focused more on the bed, and the doorway to the bathroom was in the upper left hand corner of the screen. It made seeing what was going on a bit harder. She stopped at the vanity and continued brushing her teeth. She brushed them vigorously and I could see her breasts shake with the motion. She leaned over to spit, and rinse her mouth out in the sink, and then she disappeared deeper into the bathroom.

I switched to looking at the bathroom camera and she appeared on the side of the L that held the shower and toilet. (I made a mental note that the bathroom probably needed another camera.) She pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet. The angle was good but she put her hands in her lap, so I couldn't see between her legs. Almost as an afterthought I hit the button for the microphone and could faintly hear the sound of her relieving her bladder. She finished, and wiped back to front. I thought for just a moment she was going to play with herself, but that was only wishful thinking. She stood up, not bothering to put her panties back on, and started unhooking her bra.

She was standing in the perfect spot, for me to see her breasts when it came off. They were beautiful and her areola had gotten much darker with age; now more of a dark coral than the light pink of her youth. I continued stroking.

She walked back around to the side of the bathroom I couldn't see and I switched to the view of her bedroom. It only took a moment for her to walk out, completely bare, with a bottle of lotion in her hand. She proceeded to rub her hand lotion into her neck and shoulders. She was standing in front of the mirror watching herself as she did so. Her movements weren't designed to be sexy, just efficient. She wasn't putting on a show, just getting ready for bed. After she rubbed the lotion into her breasts and stomach she walked to the bed and put one leg up on the edge, rubbed it then the other. Then she rubbed it into her perfectly round ass and went back to the mirror to check her work. A hand dropped to her stomach, and I thought for another second that she may masturbate, but she didn't. She simply turned off the lights and climbed into bed. The cameras switched to an eerie green filter in the darkness.