Summer Sunshine

I knew then that I'd possibly made a mistake. It was the best kiss I'd ever had in my life. I'd entered into the affair or whatever we were calling it, both as revenge on Clara but also to see what it would be like without a long term commitment, to be with someone else.

The first kiss lingered as our lips met and then opened. It turned quickly into other kisses that I never wanted to stop.

"Athena," said my rival, from directly over my shoulder.

We both turned and looked at him. Athena's glance withered him.

"We're leaving," he said.

"So go," she said. She shook her head and smiled. He nodded his head and turned and left.

* * * * * *

Athena

It was a magical first night. Blake and I moved down the street to a quiet little restaurant that served Italian cuisine in the middle of Paris. I hadn't really been on many first dates but all of the awkwardness associated with getting to know someone was simply not there. It was as if we were longtime friends who'd decided to take the next step. At first, he was very tentative, but after a while, I started to notice that he reached for me as often as I did him.

We capped the evening off with a trip to out hotel's rooftop where we sat and watched the lights of the city wrapped in each other's arms while exchanging a lot of very slow, very wet, kisses. I was amazed that we'd gotten that comfortable so quickly. It never occurred to me that I normally spent at least a couple of hours in the early evening with my Cello. This could quickly replace my evening practice as my favorite part of the day.

I looked at what we were doing and where it could possibly lead. I thought back to the way I'd felt that first time I'd met him. I thought about the way he looked at me in the airport and how my nipples almost popped off, they got so hard.

Then I thought about the events of that day. In Coffee City, we borrowed heaven. Our afternoon was so perfect, so sublime, that if this had been my last day on earth, I couldn't come up with a way to make it more perfect.

He looked at his watch and groaned. "I'm giving you just one more thing," I said. I just jumped into his lap for one more kiss. It was the most passionate kiss I've ever given anyone in my life. I wrapped my arms around him and he did the same. As I sucked hungrily on his tongue, I felt his hardness and I wanted it. My panties were sopping wet. It felt like I had peed on myself.

"You keep that," I said. "Don't give it back." He smiled at me. I had never felt so wanted. There was only one question in my mind. "Are you taking me home?" I asked.

He looked at me and the look spanned an eternity. I could tell that he wanted to, and badly, but something else crossed his eyes.

"I have to go," he said. "You don't have to wake up until noon, Honey. I have to not only be up by nine, I have to have all of my wits about me and be ready to go over the orchestra's books and Anton's"

"Don't give me that shit, Blake," I said. I really didn't want us to part. "What's the real reason that you don't want to go to bed with me?"

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. "I do want to."

"Everyone knows that," I said. "They can probably see this thing from orbit." I gently rubbed the front of his pants and found another wave of lust overcome me as I noticed how big and how hard it was.

"Athena, no matter what you say, and especially after tonight; even when you consider the fucked up way we met and our fucked up situation, I still think you're a good girl. And fucking some guy on the first date isn't one of those things that good girls do."

"Blake, I have another song reference for you," I said. "Do you remember a group called "The Knack?" He looked puzzled.

"They had a big hit song called, "My Sharona." Suddenly, recognition flared in his eyes.

"Well the B side to "My Sharona," was a song called, "Good girls don't, but I do."

"Seriously, Athena," he said. He gently took my hand and looked in my eyes. "Today and tonight were wonderful. My head is seriously spinning. But I just want to give you some time to think about this and not rush into something that you might regret down the line."

I could tell that he was serious and I realized then that I was no better than his fucking wife. What he'd said just ruined everything. We went into the hotel and he walked me to my room. We were silent for the first time since we'd met that afternoon. This was our first real disagreement and I'm sure he thought he was doing the right thing, but he was wrong as hell as far as I was concerned.

In another stroke of kismet or perception, he just seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Trust me, Honey," he said. "Someday you may be glad we didn't do anything tonight."

I was instantly pissed at him, but I didn't let it show. "And someday you'll regret that we didn't," I said. "You'll wish like hell that we hadn't wasted a night when we could have been together."

"Is this our first argument?" he asked seriously. I just stuck out my lip and nodded my head like a petulant schoolgirl whose Daddy wouldn't buy her a pony.

"Will I...see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"There's nothing on this fucking planet that could prevent it," I said. I tilted my head up and he kissed me very gently one last time. As he pulled away, I refused to let go of his fingers.

"Where the hell have you been?" screeched Brenda. "I've been worried sick. I called you ten times before I realized that our phones don't work here."

"I'll get you Blake's number," I said. "His iPhone works worldwide. G'night."

"Where were you?" she asked again. "What the hell happened to you? You look awful. Did he do something to you? Should I fuck that guy up? Better still, I'll get David K to do it. He already hates the guy. He's been going on all afternoon about it."

"David K is a fucking idiot," I said. "If he ever tried to even touch Blake, I'd have to break his trumpet off in his ass." Brenda looked at me. I guess she was surprised by the venom in my voice.

"I don't understand what his God damned problem is. He never even spoke to me before the other day. And after the way he treated you, we will never be friends. He's just not my type."

"I heard him ranting at some of the other guys," said Brenda. "I don't think any of them knew that you were built like that. You've kind of hid your light under a bushel. And Honey..."

"Bren, you know I love you and you're my best friend, but don't call me Honey," I told her.

She looked at me strangely but continued talking. "Anyway milady," she said. "There's something about your hair that has just paralyzed all of these guys. You've been with the symphony for three years and it's like they were working with a supermodel for all of this time and never noticed. They feel cheated and David K swears you're his."

"David K just wants to fuck me," I said. "By the end of the summer, he'll have moved on to his next conquest." She tilted her head slightly and looked at me.

"Isn't that the idea?" she asked. "Isn't that what what's his name is going to do?" I nodded very quickly.

"Kind of," I said, as I took off my dress and put on a robe before heading into the shower.

"What do you mean kind of?" she asked. She looked at me to explain myself and then noticed my underwear.

"Your panties are so wet I could swim in them," she gasped. "He must've put a lot in you."

"I wish," I said sadly. "He thinks we should wait and take it slow."

"Holy fuck," she said. "He got you this wet just from fingering you."

"He got me this wet just from kissing me and hugging me," I said.

"See, David K would have torn that pussy up," she said.

"And I'd be just another notch on his bedpost," I said. "I'm not that stupid and I'm worth more than that. Sorry," I said, as I realized that she was still stinging from David K's magic.

"It won't ever happen again," she said. I think we both realized that she was lying. Brenda was so desperate for affection that if David K called her and told her to come down to his room and give him a blow job in the hallway; she'd have pulled his pants down before he hung up the phone.

"But really Honey...Athena," she corrected herself. "An asshole is what you want. This is a game remember. You want some guy who, in the end, you'll be a bit hurt that the relationship is over, but at the same time you'll look back and realize that it wasn't meant to be. Plus, you probably wouldn't think twice about breaking up with an asshole like David K. Won't you feel guilty about breaking up with the old guy?"

"I've got this covered Bren," I lied.

"How?" she asked. "He's really cute when he takes off that suit and the glasses."

"I told him," I said. "We agreed to just have a summer fling. We'll each just be a bit of Summer Sunshine to lighten up the other's otherwise dreary existence. At the end of the summer, we'll both go our own separate ways."

"That's pretty smart," she said. "I didn't expect you to have the whole summer. I thought it would just be while we were in Paris. What about his wife? You do know that he's married."

"She must be stupid," I said vehemently. "She's cheating on him."

"Maybe when you're done with him, I'll have a turn," she said. "Of course, I'll wait until you've found your real true love so you won't care." She giggled and I giggled back, thinking that if she ever looked at Blake, friend or not, I'd gut her fat ass.

* * * * * *

Clara

I couldn't believe I was doing it again. I'd called Stephen to get rid of him. He was so sad over the phone that I couldn't bring myself to end it so impersonally. I also didn't want him to feel bad, so I decided to end it in person and give him one more monetary gift. I thought of it as giving him a nice severance package for faithful service.

We'd had a nice lunch and several people had come up to ask me who my nice young man was. That was embarrassing and far too public, so we went up to the room. I figured we'd talk and I'd tell him. Almost as soon as the door closed, he was all over me. He ate my pussy like it was the only food on a deserted island and he was starving. He still had no technique but he made up for it in enthusiasm. He didn't tickle my clit and my sensitive areas and leave me quivering like Blake did, but he swabbed my deck so ferociously that I was over whelmed and then he just climbed between my legs and fucked me harder and faster than anyone ever had.

Almost in spite of myself, my body responded to him. My brain kept saying no. It kept telling me that if Blake found out about this, my marriage would end. But my body said that Blake already knew and hadn't actually told me to stop. Besides, Blake is out of the country and one for the road couldn't hurt.

Once my mind and body had settled their argument, I was all in. I started to fuck Stephen back and urged him on. Except for the ferocity of it, the sex still wasn't very good. It wasn't like he loved me or anything. I could see that then. He just wanted to try to make me cum, so he didn't have to go. Stephen didn't want to give up the money train or all of the free pussy without a fight. After I had my orgasm, he continued to just pound away at me.

He stopped for a second and flipped me over. He got behind me and suddenly I didn't care about having sex with him anymore. I realized that he was only out for whatever he could get from me. It didn't matter what we did as long as he got a nut off and got some money. He licked and stroked my back and I wondered why. Why didn't he just put his dick back inside of me and try to finish so I could get this over with. His climax would be the end of us, but I didn't want things to end on a truly bad note.

I endured his primitive attempts to get me back in the mood until he started licking my asshole. It felt really good until I realized what he was trying to do. All of a sudden I was no longer in the mood. My pussy dried up as fast as the Sahara after a rainstorm. The sun comes out and within seconds all of the moisture is gone.

"What are you trying to do Stephen?" I asked seriously. "I've already made it perfectly clear that only my husband gets to try me back there. Seriously, what is your reasoning?"

"I'm sorry Clara," he said. "But you're kind of loose, so it takes me a long time to cum and I figured you'd be tighter there. And you might like it."

"Stephen, Dear," I said. "I have a headache. I brought you another envelope. It's on the table." I could tell he was torn. On one hand, he wanted the money and on the other his dick was still hard.

"Clara," he said softly. "If you loved me as much as I love you, you'd at least suck me off."

"You're right Stephen," I began. He sensed victory and smiled showing a lot of white teeth. They contrasted well against his dark skin. "If I did, I would," I said. Then I rolled over as if I was going to sleep. "Don't forget your envelope," I said softly. He was angry but I didn't care. I just wanted him to leave so I could cry in peace. I still couldn't believe that I'd done it. With my marriage in a shambles already, I'd fucked him again. I'm not a stupid woman, so why did I do such a stupid thing? I swore at that moment my most sacred oath, that as long as Blake and I were together I would never touch another man. My summer flings were over. From now on I'd be totally faithful to Blake and if we had problems, I'd just confront him and bring up our issues.

I immediately felt better, but I was already too late. Without me knowing it, a tiny video camera was clicking away, while the supposed professional investigator who retrieved the video jacked off again and again watching Stephen fuck me. Even out of the country, Blake would have fresh evidence of my betrayal as soon as the internet could carry the report. My last afternoon tryst would eventually give my husband the impetus to cross a line himself.

* * * * * *

Blake

I was torn when I woke up the next day. On one hand, I felt giddy and as if I was floating above the ground. The previous afternoon and night had been the best time I could remember having. On the other hand, I knew that no matter how I looked at it, even though there had been no actual sex, I had cheated on Clara. The one thing that kept going through my mind was that two wrongs don't make a right.

It was as if I had two tiny figures perched on my shoulders screaming at each other. On my left side, the side with the heart, there was an angel and she was screaming at me and at the opposing figure. She screamed that just because Clara had descended into a cesspool of immorality and become a whore, didn't mean that I had to leap in there with her.

The other shoulder held a demon and he was calmly telling me that what I had done had felt really good, therefore it was good. It was good for me and I deserved it. He was also telling me that even if I wanted to save my marriage, getting even would take a long ass time because Clara had been cheating on me for years and she wasn't holding back. Clara wasn't settling for a few little kisses like a high school girl. Clara was literally going out and finding men and fucking them. She had also done it more times than I could count, over a period of at least three years. This wasn't about getting EVEN. It would take me literally years and more than one or two women to get EVEN. This was just about restoring my confidence and self-respect. We could talk about getting even, if I decided not to divorce her. On the other hand, if I did divorce her, nothing that I did would even matter.

At that moment, I flicked the imaginary angel off of my shoulder. The demon was making sense. All my life I'd been a fucking boy scout and it had gotten me nowhere.

As I dressed and headed for my meeting with Anton, I had the biggest smile on my face. I wondered what Athena was doing at that moment and I mentally sent her another kiss.

In concrete terms my only sin was that my timing was off. Athena called our meeting "Serendipity," and perhaps for her it was. In order for it to have been serendipitous for me it would have had to happen probably two or three months from now. And I'd have had to at least have started the process of divorcing Clara.

Anton is a jolly, fat, little man. His personality somehow seems larger than his frame is capable of supporting. Women, for some reason, simply love Anton. His big booming voice and even bigger laugh can be heard all over whichever building he's in.

"Blake, my friend," he said from halfway down the hall. "Are you trying to destroy my orchestra?" He erupted in laughter even before I knew what he was talking about.

"It is all over town that you spent the evening with my number two cellist," he boomed. He looked at me conspiratorially and lowered his voice. "I have only one question for you though," he said. "How did you do it?"

"How did I do what?" I asked.

"Well up until now," he whispered. "No one, including Anton, ever took a second look at Athena. She was...frumpy. But now, after one day with you, she has blossomed. I have heard so much about her hair and her breasts. No one even knew she had breasts. How did you do it?"

"I have a question for you too Anton," I said.

"I will try to keep the receipts from now on," he spat.

"That wasn't my question," I said. He leaned in closer. "My question is about Athena," I said.

"What is your question?" he asked.

"Why is she only your number two cellist?" I asked. He thought about it for a moment and then burst out laughing again.

"I cannot believe that you are asking me the question about placement inside of my own orchestra," he was still laughing until he saw that I was serious.

"You really like her don't you?" he asked. I nodded. "Okay, I will be honest with you. But do not tell anyone, especially her." I nodded. "There are two reasons. The first is because of her personality. She doesn't challenge for the number one position. She is content to be number two. She sits there out of the spotlight and simply plays. She doesn't seek the adulation or the challenge of being number one. The second is even more problematic. Athena is more technically proficient than Marco, my number one. She can play better than he can. But the difference is that Marco is very fiery. Athena though technically proficient doesn't have a personality on the instrument. She plays with great technique but no passion at all. Marco is an artist, Athena plays like a robot." I nodded.

"Okay, my friend, you will leave the music to me," he said. "And I will leave the money and the bills and all of the crediting and paying and financing to you, deal?"

"Deal," I said.

We spent the rest of the morning going over the books and trying to figure out where the money had gone to. The main problem was that Anton often bought things and didn't record the purchases. The money came out of the account, but since no record of it was ever entered, at the end of the month there was always less money in the account than there should have been. An auditor who didn't understand the way Anton worked might have assumed that someone was stealing money. There was, after we reconciled the accounts, a simple way to solve the problem.

I broached the subject of having a manager for the orchestra with Anton.

"But Blake, Anton is in charge of the orchestra," he said. He sounded hurt.

"Yes," I said. "You are."

"Am I bad boss?" he asked.

"No Anton," I told him. "You're a great boss. The problem is that you don't have enough employees." He looked confused.

"Anton, you have a secretary, right?" He nodded his head. "It's her job to handle answering your fan mail and typing up things for you. You're far too busy to do that. Well, the person I'm going to assign to you will also work for you. It will be his job to simply buy the things you need or to accept and keep the receipts. Everything will still have to go through you. So if you need to buy microphones, or amplifiers or whatever the hell you buy, authorization for those items will still come through you. If one of your musicians asks for something and the manager says no, the final word will be with you. If you say yes, it goes through. His or possibly her job will simply be to take care of the financial records. It will leave you free to handle the most important things like the musical decisions and meeting with your fans. Does that sound okay?"