Sue's Romance

She went through her clothes wondering what she might wear that day, not ever allowing herself the thought that she was dressing for Wayne. She made sure that as soon as it crossed her mind, she pushed it out of her mind and tried to forget it.

She even tried on a few outfits to see if she liked them. From the back of her closet she dug out a short, short skirt and put on a tight white sweater top over it. She paraded in front of the mirror, admiring her more slutty self. But eventually talked herself out of wearing the outfit. She finally settled on a simply sundress.

She went down for more coffee at that point, and was pleasantly startled by the doorbell ringing. It was promising to be another hot day, and, when she opened up the door, Wayne was there smiling wearing a pair of running shorts and a tee shirt today.

"Hey, look at Ms. Springtime," he said, "Mrs. L, you look fantastic; bright, and spruced up; it's like it's an all new you! Lovely!"

His enthusiasm was infectious, and she found herself being quite carried away by it.

"I didn't know how to dress today," she said simply; "I guess I should apologize to you for drawing you into my agony, I mean how to dress and all."

She was silent for a moment, with him smiling at her, and continued finally:

"I even had the thought that I should dress sexy today; it's silly but I did."

"Silly, no!" he said now grinning from ear to ear, "I'd love to see you dressed sexy."

She blushed and he went to work. She moped around just a bit having a kind of argument with herself. It sounded vaguely like this:

"No, I shouldn't!" "Yes, I know that I want to." "I know that it's not a good idea." "No, I'm not sure why it's not a good idea."

And it went on for a bit. Finally, Sue turned her brain off and went on auto pilot. She wanted to get the iced tea ready for them to have some. In a clumsy moment, she spilled some tea on her dress. She sighed and went purposefully upstairs and was going to change.

Her sweats, the old ones, were right there on the top of the hamper. She reached out for them, and then saw the short skirt on the bed. In a rash moment, she put the skirt on, and then the sweater that went with it. The skirt served to highlight her legs and the sweater was tight enough to give great emphasis to her breasts. She looked in the mirror then and giggled at the fact that her nipples were poking out at the front of her sweater.

She stopped herself with the severe words: "I'm not the giggling type."

But she didn't say anything else to herself; she marched down the stairs and got the tray ready with the iced tea and some cookies for their snack. Resolutely, she walked out onto the deck, and called to Wayne.

He approached the deck, and was suddenly wreathed in smiles. He grinned at her and, maintaining the grin, spoke up appreciatingly:

"Ah, the sexy outfit; and sexy it is; Mrs. L, you look absolutely wonderful in that outfit! What a treat."

She tried to smile but found that she was suddenly losing her nerve. Her first instinct, which she followed was to apologize:

"Wayne, I feel silly; I'm sorry for making such a fuss about dressing sexy; it's an absurd idea."

"Not at all," he said suddenly, smiling at her a smile that could melt snow heaps.

But she had done herself in with the apology. So, she did the only thing that she saw was possible: she fled.

In a few moments she was upstairs in the bathroom and soaking in the tub. She took some extra emergency measures: she filled the tub with bubble bath and soaked in the scented, bubble filled water.

The bathroom door opened and Wayne entered.

Sue squeaked and tried to sink farther down into the water.

"Wayne!" she squealed, "I'm . . .I'm . . .uh, taking a bath."

Wayne ignored her. "You ran," he said slowly and clearly, "Why did you run? You looked so lovely."

"Wayne," she tried to sound calm but her voice was still more of a squeak than a voice, "I'm in the tub."

But he was insistent:

"Why did you run? What happened?"

"Yes," she said, finally calmed down enough to talk to him, "I should apologize for scurrying away like that . . ."

But he cut her off then. With a kind of gruff voice he said:

"Stop that!"

"Stop?" she asked in some wonder, "Stop what?"

He spoke to her then with some forcefulness:

"You might have had to apologize for your very life and all parts of it to, what do you call him 'Ultimate John' but that's nonsense."

"Nonsense?" she echoed, now trying to keep her attention from the fact that he had taken his tee shirt off and now was dressed in the running shorts, and cross trainers, with sweat on his chest.

"Mrs. L, Sue," he said patiently, "You have nothing to apologize for. You're young; you're extraordinarily lovely; you are sexy even in those baggy sweats that you so often wear. The man, that 'Ultimate John', is a certifiable nut case for leaving behind a gorgeous woman like you."

His voice, his words, his intentions sunk into Sue's consciousness like a fire brand. She was aware that he used her name, called her Sue, and she was almost aflame with the sweetness that his just using her name caused.

She felt a reaction coming on. But he noticed it too. He spoke up again a bit severely:

"Don't you cry! Don't give in to those hoarded ways of making yourself feel bad, that continue to keep you in some kind of gloomy place that what's his name's leaving with his bimbo has kind of cast you. That's not the you I see; that's not the Sue that I see at all. Mrs. L, Sue, you are beautiful beyond glorious and he's blind if he didn't see that and try to bring it out in you."

Then he moved toward the tub.

"What . . .what are you going to do?" she asked, realizing while she did that the panic was draining from her.

"I'm going to wash you," he said smiling. "You're taking a bath and I'm going to help."

"Ohhhhhh," was all that Sue could manage to that announcement. She couldn't think of any reason to ask him or tell him not to.

He grabbed a large terry cloth wash mitt and put his hand in it.

"See," he grinned at her, "No touchy feely, large mitt just for washing my lady in the tub."

"Ohhhhhh," she said again, realizing inwardly with chagrin what a charming conversationalist she was turning out to be.

Then his hand in the mitt had dipped below the surface of the water, and he was washing her neck, and then the upper part of her chest, then his hand, with the mitt, was washing and making circles around her breasts and her nipples.

Her breath was becoming ragged, and his hand was washing its way down her belly now, seeking the soft spot between her legs.

"That's touchy feely!" she said in a strangled voice, and then suddenly all of the good feelings that his beautiful words had wrought in her kind of exploded.

With no hesitation, she rose up from her sitting position and, soap bubbles clinging to her and all, soaking wet and all, threw her arms around his neck and launched into a soft, yet insistent opened mouth kiss.

He responded eagerly, shaking the mitt off now and running his hands down through the outer layer of soap bubbles to encompass her waist, and then her buttocks, and then around the side to the front of her thighs.

She clung to him, and with her lips next to his ear, said urgently: "Wayne, touchy feely is nice."

His response was to pick her up out of the tub bodily and lay her on the floor.

His voice was hoarse as he urgently whispered into her ear: "This time, this first time will be fast; I want you so badly. I won't play for time or finesse. I want to feel how it is to be united with your lovely soapy body.

He was as good as his word. It was fierce, it was quick, it was filled with the kind of passion that could take your breath away, and he stayed with her, after his own crisis, until she came tumbling after him.

Then he got up and began the process of drying her off. When he had her dry, he took her in his arms again, and was burning her lips with those kisses again. She simply gave herself up to them, to him, to this.

"This time is for you," he said quietly into her ear, ""This time is for you, lovely lady; this time is for you, Sue."

Saying that, he picked her up in his arms.

Sue squeaked, when he did that.

"Ohhhh," she said in a strangled voice, "'The Ultimate John' never did this."

He laughed then:

"Tell me about it; I'm sure that there are all sorts of things that 'the Ultimate John' never did but I will."

He began with his lips at her toes, and moved up from there. He missed not spots at all in between with his kisses, his licking and his tiny bites, that caused Sue to 'yip' with pleasure and, at times surprise.

For the last time she whispered into the late afternoon air:

"Oh, 'the Ultimate John' never did anything like that."

He lifted his head and grinned at her:

"I'm sure he didn't but I'm not him."

"No, thank god, thank heaven, thank everything."

While she said this, she had her fingers entwined in his hair as his insistent tongue and lips continued to make their exploration: thighs, belly button, arm pits, ear lobes, lips, teeth, tongue, inner cheeks, eye lids. It was all encompassing and all consuming. Sue was lost somewhere in the whole process, having simply given herself up to it.

He surprised her by turning her over on her back then and trailing the same kind of kisses across her shoulders, down her back, down her spine ending up with licks and kisses at the rise and swell of her buttocks, doing things then that brought squeaks from her again, and 'yips' of surprise.

He turned her over again and now settled down to her. The entire world for all of those next minutes was his lips and tongue and the soft center of her body. He worked there, lingered there doing things of course, though it was left unsaid, that 'the Ultimate John' never did.

His hands possessed her hips, as his mouth and lips possessed the rest of her, then he slid up and, moving her knees outward slowly entered her again. He was slow and purposeful this time. He paced himself and brought her wailing to her own crisis before he slid into his.

They simply lay holding each other for a long time afterwards.

He smiled at her face, after a bit and said:

"You know, Sue, the work is not yet done; I'll probably have to come back."

"Oh, goody!" she said.

Then she looked at him with a bright smile on her face and asked:

"Would you like some dinner? It will only take me a little bit."

"Lovely," he said, "To be waited on by a beautiful nymph; every man's deepest desire."

"Nymph is it?!' she said with a kiss and a grin.

When he entered the kitchen in a few minutes, after putting his clothes on, he found her puttering with a salad, steaks already to grill but wearing only an apron and a pair of pink bikini panties.

"Now that is sexy!"

"Does the ravisher like Mrs. L's outfit?"

"The ravisher loves it," he said clinging to her.