My Loving Family Ch. 07

Synposis: Sarah and Willa decide to live together. Sarah tells Willa about her "extra" job assignments, and Willa asks if she can join in the fun. In the last scene, Sarah was summoned to Mr. Bose's office to perform. One of the men she shows off for will become her husband.

Part III - I'm Peter. This Is My Story

Chapter Seven

Compared to the stories you've already read here, mine is uneventful, almost boring, except for my early childhood, because I was raised by hippies. My daddy was a Yank who had run away to Canada in '65 to avoid the American draft.

My mum was a true flower child -- her father was an English teacher in a small college in northern Alberta. Mum used to say he was a remittance man from a well known family close to the Crown, which explained why her maiden name was Evening Star from her mother's side because her father was already married at the time. Her mother had been a student; a young and some might say very naive, Athabascan girl from the Northwest Territories.

However colorful my antecedents might have been, they were nothing compared to the life I found with Sarah. I vividly remember our first meeting in Winnipeg. I was only a rough and ready prospector at the time. Jack Whittier and I had stumbled over a molybdenite deposit while prospecting for gold on the southern shore of Great Slave Lake.

Actually, when we first saw the silvery streaks, we thought it might be silver, but the Assay Office in Yellowknife quickly set us straight. Meanwhile, Jack and I had staked practically the whole hillside. Then a government geologist came to the site. After nearly two hard weeks of digging test holes and breaking ore samples open, he gave us a preliminary report. We had a potentially valuable mining prospect.

Now we needed money to develop the property. Consequently, Jack and I found ourselves sitting nervously in Mr. Bose's office when the door opened and a sexy secretary about my age came into the room. She walked past us, trailing a scent that reminded me how long it had been since I last held a naked woman in my arms. But that was nothing to what I felt as I watched her lean over Mr. Bose's desk, and the hem of her short skirt accidentally climb above the lacy tops of her stockings, showing me a sliver of bare skin. I knew it was wrong to peek, but I couldn't help myself. I felt my cock stir even as she straightened and turned around, facing us.

The first thing I noticed was her beautiful smile as she looked straight at me. She cocked an eyebrow as if she were reading my mind, and then walked past me. I couldn't help but notice the tantalizing way her breasts swayed under her dress as she walked, and the play of her thigh muscles under her short skirt. With a woman like that around, how did they get any work done? Mr. Bose smiled. "Miss Kincaide often has that effect on our visitors," he said.

I'm sure he must have been referring to the expression on our faces. There was no way he could have seen the way my cock had responded, but even so, I was embarrassed. "She's very pretty," I ventured.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Bose replied. "And she has a fun loving disposition to go with it," he added.

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but overcoming my temporary shyness, I asked, "I'm not sure what you mean. . .?"

"Nothing, really," Mr. Bose replied. "It's just that clients sometimes tell me that they invited her to dinner, and that she always seems to have a good time."

"Do you think . . .?"

Jack piped up, "Wait a minute, partner, I saw her first!"

Mr. Bose smiled again. "No need to quarrel; perhaps she has a friend. . . Of course," he added quickly, "I don't know whether she'll accept your invitation, but as the man said, it never hurts to ask . . ."

He looked briefly at his Roledex and scribbled some numbers on a card, which he pushed toward me. "Here's her phone number if you're interested. I know how lonely a strange city can be at night." Then he abruptly changed the subject and we again began discussing the financial aspects involved in opening a new mining property.

Later, back in our room, I must have lifted the phone a half dozen times before I found the courage to dial the number Mr. Bose had given me.

"Hello?"

"Er, ahh . . . is this Miss Kincaide?"

"Speaking"

"My name is Pete Crockett. I saw you in Mr. Bose's office this afternoon . . ."

"Yes, I remember you, Mr. Crockett."

"Well, this is our first time in Winnipeg. I know this is very short notice, but I wondered if you'd have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Why that would be lovely. I'd like that very much."

Jack was making a hideous face and waving his fist in the air. "Oh, ahh, my partner was wondering if maybe you could fix him up with a friend?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Feeling somewhat braver, I asked, "About 8:00 o'clock?"

I could almost sense her nod. "Fine"

"I don't know where you live."

"That's all right, we can meet at the restaurant -- Brown's at 8:00. I'm looking forward to it. I've always been curious about the Northwest Territories."

After hanging up, I thumbed through the phone book looking for Brown's Restaurant. Then I called for an 8:00 o'clock reservation.

We had another brief meeting with Mr. Bose the following morning after he had discussed our proposition with his partners and they had examined the geologist's report. That afternoon we spent wandering around the Exchange District, looking at mining machinery, and impatiently waiting for 8:00 o'clock. We accidentally found Brown's. It was on a side street with a colorful view of the Forks where the Assiniboine joins the Red River.

Shortly before 8:00, dressed in my best (only) suit, (Jack didn't have a suit) hair combed and shoes shined, we arrived at the restaurant and made ourselves known to the maître d'. Then we retired to a corner of the bar and ordered a couple of drinks.

We had worked out a simple plan by flipping a coin. I had won the toss. If Miss Kincaide arrived alone, Jack would excuse himself after dinner, saying he had work to do. On the other hand, if she had been able to find another girl, we'd just have to see how the evening played out.

"Hello, Mr. Crockett."

I whirled around, almost spilling my drink in the process. It was Sarah and a friend. I couldn't imagine how she managed to get behind me that way. "Miss Kincaide!" I said, momentarily thrown off balance. I had seen a beautiful woman in Mr. Bose's office. But that brief encounter was nothing compared to the vision she and her friend now presented.

She smiled at our obvious surprise and delight. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Willa," she said.

Jack introduced himself to Willa while Miss Kincaide turned back to me. " Please, Mr. Crockett, my name is Sarah."

I'm sure my mouth must have been hanging open, but I managed to respond, saying "And I'm Pete. You're absolutely stunning, by the way. And so's Willa!" You both belong in Playboy!"

And they did, but Sarah laughed in a self-deprecating way, saying, "Oh, stop it. You're embarrassing us," she said, showing me for the first time the dimple in her left cheek.

The fact was, however, that the over all effect both women presented was enough to stop traffic. Sarah's friend was a busty blonde who exuded sex appeal. Her pretty silvery dress wasn't as short as Sarah's but it was cut very low in front, showing the tops of her plump breasts. I doubted whether she could lean very far forward for fear her breasts might simply fall out of her dress.

Sarah's tight fitting black dress was more modest in front, but it was very short, and if she bent far enough over, I was sure anyone standing behind her would have gotten more of an eyeful than we did in Mr. Bose's office. We were seated. Sarah and Willa plied us with questions about Yellowknife and the Territories in general while we ordered our dinners. Jack was telling them how we had made our strike. "Even though you're looking for gold, it pays to keep your eyes open to other possibilities," he said.

The rest of the meal passed quickly as we told them stories about that fabled corner of the Territories and some of our whacky experiences as optimistic prospectors. I wasn't trying to impress her; I knew better than that. I was just hoping to prolong the evening.

Sarah interrupted my flow. "Do you gentlemen dance?"

"Well, sort of," I said grudgingly.

Willa suddenly blushed, and said, "I hope you'll excuse me, but. . ."

Sarah immediately pushed her chair back, too. "We'll be right back."

Jack and I looked at each other. "What do you suppose they're cooking up?" he asked.

"We can always hope they're trying to figure out how to separate us," I said hopefully.

"Yeah, that or they're trying to figure out how to ditch us," Jack replied sourly. "Here they come," he added.

"We know a place where we could have some fun," Sarah said.

I settled the bill, and out on the sidewalk, Jack flagged a taxi.

Sarah gave instructions to the driver, and minutes later, we were standing on the sidewalk in front of a dramatic entrance shaped like the opening into a cave. A neon sign over the doorway confirmed my initial impression because it read, "The Cave."

Inside, we were ushered to a small table in a room that seemed lit mostly by the sputtering candles on each table. Our table was adjacent to a crowded parquet dance floor. Sarah ordered a glass of sherry. Willa shook her head, and asked for water. I ordered whisky-rocks. I don't remember what Jack ordered. Smiling, we four silently toasted each other, Willa making do with her glass of water. Knowing what was expected, I then stood and offered my hand to Sarah.

I may look and act like the roughneck I am, and my mum may have been from the back country, but she knew how important good manners were and drilled them into me so deeply that when, as now, the occasion merits it, I automatically act the part of a gentleman.

Therefore, I was surprised when, after holding Sarah in a formal way, her right hand extended to the side while I guided her with my right, and we successfully shuffled once around the dance floor, she wrapped both arms around my neck and pressed her sensuous body tightly against mine. "Hold me closer," she whispered in my ear. "I like to feel the man I'm dancing with."

I glanced back toward our table and saw Willa and Jack, heads close together, having what looked like a serious discussion. The next time I looked, they had left the table and I smiled, thinking how hard she must have argued to get Jack out on the dance floor. But I quickly forgot them, because my senses were literally being bombarded.

I'm not at all sure what it was, but a mixed aroma of something faintly sweet on top of a pungent, musky scent filled my nostrils, while I was keenly aware of her breasts pressed against my chest and her thigh which sometimes seemed to linger between my legs, and the feel of her breath on my neck as she rested her head on my shoulder. I couldn't help it.

I felt my cock twitch and tingle in response to her closeness, and especially when her thigh accidentally touched it. Frankly, as my cock stiffened, I became very embarrassed. I attempted to conceal it from her by holding myself away, but she persisted.

Finally, when I'm sure I must have presented a comical picture by dancing like a contortionist, she kissed the side of my neck, and whispered, "I don't mind. I take it as a compliment when a man becomes aroused by dancing closely with me. Let me feel it."

She deliberately arched her back, rubbing her pelvis against mine. I'll swear my cock grew another two inches, but I was beginning to sweat, so she suggested we sit the next set out. Back at our table, we ordered another round. Then I excused myself. I had to. My cock was making a very obvious tent in the front of my pants, and I thought if I could take a leak, that embarrassing lump would disappear.

I went first to the sink to chill my hand under cold running water, Then I'll bet I stood over that urinal for a good five minutes trying to force a urine stream to begin. Other men came into the restroom, relieved themselves, washed their hands and left while I stood there willing my erection to subside.

A few drops finally appeared. Those drops became a drizzle, which gradually strengthened, to my enormous relief, into a regular urine flow. At the same time, I felt my erection disappear. But when I returned to our table, it was empty!

I assumed Jack and Willa were still out on the dance floor, but where was Sarah? When I began to sit down, I realized she had left her clutch bag on the seat of my chair, hidden under the table cloth. I'm not an expert on women and their habits -- and I knew much less then than I do now -- but I knew she was as likely to leave an arm behind as her purse.

She hadn't gone to the ladies, since her purse contained stuff she'd probably need, so I began to scan the dancers. She almost had to be dancing.

And she was. When I saw her in the arms of a big guy, who seemed to dwarf her, I was surprised by the odd sequence of emotions that stirred within. At first, of course, I felt a sense of relief. But then, when I saw that she was apparently giving her partner the same full body press she had given me -- her arms were looped around her partner's neck and she was resting her head on his chest -- a jealous pang sent a darting pain through my midsection, but almost immediately, that was replaced by a sense of wonder.

While we had been dancing, I had tended to concentrate on my own feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment. Now, however, even as I studied the way the short skirt of her form fitting black cocktail dress was pulled up as she pressed herself against her new partner, her beautiful legs -- the same legs I had seen earlier in Mr. Bose's office -- were again exposed all the way to the tops of her dark hose, giving the onlooker an occasional daring flash of white skin.

But then as I studied her svelte body, I realized that instead of holding her close with his arms around her waist, her new partner had both hands on her ass, and was practically dry humping her on the dance floor! Another pang of jealousy darted through my body, especially when I saw how enthusiastically she was rubbing herself against her partner.

I tossed off my drink and signaled the waitress for another. The distraction caused by the waitress's arrival provided a needed interlude, so by the time I returned my wallet to my pocket, I was able to watch dispassionately until the end of the set when her new partner walked her back toward our table.

He turned abruptly away even as I was rising to welcome Sarah back. She flashed me an impish smile. "He was just a little too eager," she said. "I prefer men who take their time, who see me as a person instead of a piece of ass."

I must have blinked or otherwise betrayed my surprise by her directness and choice of language, yet at the same time, I appreciated her candor, because I was still very much a country boy, and I liked knowing where I stood. "Where are Jack and Willa?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "She left a note on my purse that they were leaving; that's all I know."

We danced another set, but then she looked at her watch. "My goodness. It's getting late," she said. "Perhaps it's time to call it a night."

I knew she was right, but God, how I wanted this evening to last forever. We paused in the club foyer to reclaim her wrap and then stepped out on the sidewalk. "How long will you be in town?" Sarah asked.

"It depends on how long it takes your boss to gain the approval of his partners, and then find the financing," I replied. "I'd guess another day or two."

"Will I see you again?"

"Can I?"

"I'm open tomorrow evening," Sarah murmured in her customary way. "How'd you like to have dinner in my apartment?"

"I'd love it! But I don't want to put you out . . ."

Sarah smiled as she opened her bag and handed me a card. "This is my address and telephone number," she said. "Shall we say around 7:30 - 8:00 o'clock?"

Astonished by my good fortune, I could only nod.

"Be a dear and flag a cab for me."

Just then a cruising cab rounded the corner. I held up my arm. The cab stopped. Just before stepping into the cab, Sarah put her arms around me and kissed me softly on my lips. Then she disappeared into the cab. I closed the door, and she was gone.

I was left standing on the sidewalk touching my lips with my tongue, savoring the moment, and trying to sort out a sudden rush of strange emotions. Emotions I hadn't experienced in a very long time.

(To be continued)