Alan Ch. 27

"I'll try, but I can't promise." He could hear her pout from across the Atlantic.

After a quick call to his mom and dad he dialed the number Chloe had scribbled earlier that day. The result of their brief confab was that he was to pick her up at seven.

* * *

An unfamiliar, though stunning, young woman opened the door to Chloe's flat. She stood in the open doorway looking him up and down.

"Hello," Alan offered.

She said nothing in response, continuing her inspection, her gaze increasingly contemptuous.

"Uh, Alan Marshall. I'm here to pick up Chloe."

The sentry's eyes widened in disbelief at that piece of intelligence.

"And you are?"

The door shut in his face came by way of answer. He could hear voices now from within the apartment, the rancor in them increasing.

The door opened again, and Chloe ushered him inside, pulling him by the forearm. "Sorry about that. Just Barbara being Barbara."

Alan had a brief glimpse of the inscrutable Barbara as she slammed the door of what he assumed was her bedroom with enough force to make the windows rattle. "Not very friendly, eh? Didn't say as much as a word to me, just blocked the door and stared."

"Don't be insulted. It's not you specifically, she dislikes people in general. My agency placed us together, and at first it was off-putting, living with someone like her, but talking to others I've learned that there are worse defining traits in flatmates than Barb's silent contempt."

"What's her deal?" he asked as Chloe slipped on her shoes.

"Search me. She barely deigns to talk to me at all."

"Wow! You look great."

Chloe blushed, her skin tone rising to match the slink pink summer dress she had donned. Her legs were bare, feet barely covered by a pair of matching sandals with one-inch heels. Her light blonde hair was tied in a neat pony tail, held together with a tortoise-shell appliance, her perfume applied with the most proper of light touches.

"Thanks," she replied through a thousand watt smile. "Sorry I'm running a bit behind."

"Don't worry about it."

"Do you need to ring up the restaurant to let them know we'll be late?"

"Shit."

"You didn't reserve somewhere?" she questioned incredulously.

"Guilty. Well, I'm sure we'll find somewhere to eat. Any ideas? This is your town, after all."

She shot him an exasperated smile. "Oy, we'll never get into anywhere even half-decent without a booking."

Now it was his turn to be incredulous. "You mean to tell me that on a Thursday night in late July you need a reservation to eat, as you put it, 'anywhere even half-decent?' What kind of place is this city of yours?"

"London, baby!"

"Oh, just pick a place. I'll see we get in. In case you have forgotten, I can be VERY persuasive when and if the need arises."

"I thought you only used that to get girls," was her snarky retort, as she put her earrings on.

"Yes, well, to see that you don't go unfed this night, I'm willing to branch out, just this once."

"You're such a goof," she giggled, dragging him, at long last out the door.

They encountered one of Chloe and Barbara's neighbors coming up the front steps, and Chloe introduced Alan to Will, a doctoral candidate in mathematics who had the flat next to hers. He was a tall guy of slightly above average looks, spoiled by an ill-fitting wardrobe, but sporting a very stylish pair of eyeglasses.

"Seems like a nice enough guy," Alan said as they made it through the main door of her building.

"Yeah, he's sort of a project of mine. He's not bad looking, and he's sweet, but he a nerd. I picked out his new frames for his glasses last week, and next week we're going clothes shopping."

"He has a thing for you?"

"No," she laughed. "If you must know, he fancies Barbara, for the life of me I can't tell why. She doesn't give him the time of day."

"Yeah," Alan said with a grin, hailing a taxi, "I'm a member of that club."

The went to a stylish little place in Chelsea. Alan thought Chloe had been joking when she suggested he use his power to secure them a table, but she had been right, the place was packed to the rafters, with another mob hovering around the bar. He had suggested she try to exploit her fame as a model to get them seated, but she told him she wasn't famous. The lingerie catalog she had shown him was her first really big booking, and it hadn't even been mailed out yet.

They talked over the wine and food throughout dinner, catching up. Alan told her about breaking up with Pauline, Megan and Leila having his baby, dating Kate, and even a few of his more peripheral adventures.

Chloe told him she was not serious about modeling, her sole motive was to support herself through her university years, and if she was lucky enough, salt enough away to help her younger brother make his way through college. She wanted to be a cell biologist, or perhaps go to medical school and become an immunologist. She limited herself in taking modeling jobs while school was in term, and made up for it during breaks. When she had encountered Alan in the airport she was returning from a photo shoot in Cologne, and she was leaving the next day for fittings in Milan.

* * *

"Want to go back to your place? Maybe some dancing?" he asked as they left the restaurant.

"Uh, where are you staying?"

"The Savoy. Why do you ask?"

"Barbara hates it when I have company of any kind."

"I can take care of that," he said with confidence.

"Oh yeah, I forgot for a minute whom I was dealing with."

"In fact," he added, "I have an idea."

When they reached Chloe's building they made a slight detour to Will's door. Chloe invited him over to have a drink with her and Alan. Will understood that Barbara would be objectionable to all this company in her apartment, but couldn't resist. As the trio entered Barbara favored them with a nasty sort of glare, and then retreated into the sanctity of her bedroom, the door shut firmly.

An hour later Barbara was fuming. This was her apartment, Chloe just a renter of a room. Chloe knew how much he hated having lots of people around. First there was this Yank, a breed she could hardly stand to be around, and then she had the temerity to invite the loser from next door, said loser having a propensity to follow her with his eyes whenever they encountered each other in the hall or lobby.

It sounded like they were having a great time, though. Happy conversation, glasses clinking together with frequent regularity, punctuated at intervals by laughter all around. She was, to her own great shock, coming to regret her self-imposed solitude. She felt herself waver, but held tight. As she reached for the handle to yank open her door and upbraid them, a change came over her. She could feel it, like a shiver running down her spine, yet unlike and she had felt before.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, in a gentle tenor of voice neither Chloe or Will had ever recalled hearing before; Alan had never even heard her speak up to this point.

Alan was non-plussed, and even Chloe, though wary, understood that Barbara's willingness to join the group was due to Alan's influence. It dawned on her almost immediately that Alan was opening up Barbara to Will's advances.

Will, who had been semi-reclining on one of the sofas, straightened up and made room for Barbara next to his place. Alan popped open a beer and gave it over to Barbara, and they settled down. After a half hour Alan and Chloe removed themselves to her bedroom, leaving the nascent couple alone in the living area.

"Ouch, you naughty boy!" she half-squealed half-whispered once the door was closed behind them. "I should have seen that one coming from a field away. Barbara and Will. Brilliant!"

"He's a nice guy, right?" he asked. She nodded. "Maybe she needs a nice guy to loosen her up. And besides, now you'll have more free time."

"Come again?" She was confused by the last part.

"Well, now the spiffing up of Will can be Barbara's project."

"But I liked doing that with him. It was fun," she mock-whined.

"OK, OK, now the both of you can remake his style. Sheesh! You think you're doing a girl a favor!"

"Come here, big guy," she growled, pulling him by his necktie, dragging him to the bed. As she plopped them down onto the bedspread her short dress rode up almost to her hips. "Did you like the stuff I was wearing in the picture."

He nodded. "It was very pretty."

"I'm wearing it now."

He rolled on to his back and she straddled him. He lifted the hem of her summer dress, and she put her hands straight up in the air, so that he could take the dress right off of her. She hadn't lied; she was clad now only in the baby blue frilly bra and panty set he had seen in the catalogue photo, a photo now resident in his suit coat pocket in the outer room. She bent down to kiss him, and he hugged her to him. "I wonder what Barb and Will are doing right this minute," she giggled between kisses.

"I must be an awful lover," Alan sighed.

"Why on earth would you say that?"

"You're thinking of Will and Barbara."

"Well," she said with a hint of arousal coloring--or in her case, colouring--her tone, "You'll just have to change my mind."

"Hmmm...how far do you want me to go with that?"

"Changing my mind?" she asked as she rubbed herself against him, occasionally licking at his neck and chest. "I trust you, so as far as you want to take it."

"Tell me a fantasy, a situation you always wanted to act out."

She hesitated. There was silence between them for about a minute, broken up only by the sound of Barbara's laughter from the living room. "You're going to think it's a trifle tame," Chloe offered.

"Don't worry about what you think I'm going to think."

"OK," she breathed, "I was thinking about the time we did it. When you took my 'virginity.'" He nodded, remembering. "I'd like to do the same to you."

"Got it. Put your dress back on," he said with a grin. He got up off the bed and took off his tie and shirt, and then went back out into the living room, a vacant living room, he noted Barbara's bedroom door was closed, and he could hear muffled conversation from the opposite side. He waited two beats and then knocked on Chloe's door, not waiting for her to answer, and stuck his head through. "Hi, Mrs. Mayhew, I finished cutting the lawn. Is there anything else you need me to do before I go?"

She quickly got what he was playing at, and played along. "Um, oh, Alan, yes, come right in. There is something you could do for me, now that I think about it."

"Sure thing," he answered a little nervously. He looked at her like a teenaged virgin would look at a beautiful and scantily-clad woman, avoiding her eyes, taking furtive glances at her well displayed legs and pert breasts, reddening when he thought he was being caught. "W-what do you need me to do?"

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and motioned for him to take the seat facing the bed. "How old are you now, Alan?"

"Um, sixteen, almost seventeen, ma'am."

"Please, call me Chloe. You make me feel so old calling me Mrs. Mayhew or ma'am."

"O-OK, Mrs. Mayhew."

She laughed, and he blushed harder. "Are you thirsty? You must be hot from being out in the yard."

"No, Mrs. May--Ch-chloe, I'm OK."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He looked away because he knew she was aware he was staring at her. "No, not right now, Chloe."

"But you did?"

"Yes," he said, emphasizing his answer with a vigorous nod.

"What was her name, the last one?"

"Um, Marjorie."

"Did you kiss her?"

He nodded.

"Did you do anything else with her?"

He nodded again, looking as if his embarrassment would soon become fatal.

"What did you do with Marjorie, Alan?" she asked breathlessly. "Please, tell me."

"Once we were kissing, and she let me put my hand on her sweater," he choked out.

"You mean on her breast, don't you, Alan?"

He whimpered and nodded, feeling his cock stiffen at the memory.

"Is that all?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.

He shook his head, his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"What else, Alan?"

"She touched me through my pants," he said, almost blubbering.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He nodded.

"Don't be. Just relax," she ordered, and watched a little of the tension drain out of him. "Is that the farthest you've gotten with a girl, Alan?"

He nodded.

"Come over here and sit with me."

"O-OK, Chloe."

"That's a good boy. Oh wow, you worked up quite a sweat cutting the grass. Take off your t-shirt, and I'll fetch you a towel." She was back a moment later, shooing him off when he tried to take the towel, and began to dry off his back. "Does that feel good?"

"Yes, very."

"Why aren't you and what's-her-name still going out?"

"She ended it. An older boy asked her out, and now she goes with him."

"Oh, Alan, that's awful! Were you sad?"

He nodded.

"Lots of girls like older blokes, because they know that older blokes have more experience. They are just little girls who don't know better," she said with a derisive snort. "But I know that ex-per-i-ence is not all that it's cracked up to be." He shuddered as she walked her fingertips up his arm. "Alan, do you think I'm pretty?"

He made googly eyes at her, too spooked to say anything.

"Mr. Mayhew is always traveling on business, so you're such a dear to take care of me, I mean my yard for me."

"You're welcome, Mrs. May-, Chloe."

"I also feel safe knowing such a strapping young man like you lives just next door. Always there to lend a hand, help out around this lonely house of mine," she sighed. "There is something you can help me with," she continued as she moved the towel to his chest.

"What?" he whispered, his face inches from hers.

She kissed him, and he groaned. His hips buckled as she slipped her tongue past his lips, exploring his mouth.

He broke away. "Mrs. Mayhew! What are you doing?"

She didn't answer, just placed her mouth over his, her hands caressing his chest, teasing his nipples. He groaned into the kiss, and his hands began to timidly explore the her back, rubbing tentative patterns in the fabric of her dress.

"I'm so lonely, Alan, would you help me?"

"I don't know what to do," he said pitifully.

She shot him a dazzling smile. "Don't worry, baby. I'll show you what to do. Unzip my dress please, it's in the back." She turned away from him so he could reach the pull, and his hand trembled as he lowered the zipper down to the end. He could see the waistband of her frilly blue panties, and his hand lingered at the small of her back. She turned to face him again, and he jerked his hand away as if burned, afraid she would think he was taking liberties.

"Sorry Mrs. Mayhew. Your skin is so soft."

"My husband brings me lotion from Paris." She saw him freeze up at the mention of her husband. She dropped her voice to a throaty whisper. "He's there right now. Paris. He leaves me alone all the time." She moved the shoulder straps of the dress so that the slipped off, holding the dress up so it wouldn't fall down. "Have you ever seen a naked woman, Alan?"

"I-I've seen pictures."

"But never in real life?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"I told you to call me Chloe. Would you like to see more of me?"

He nodded. She lowered the dress so that it was bunched up at her waist.

"It's important, Alan, to know how to undress a woman. Many boys, even men, become flummoxed with the brassiere. I think right now I'll take it off myself, but later we can practice."

His eyes were riveted as she reached behind her and unsnapped the bra closure and shucked it off, and he gasped as her breasts and hard nipples came into sight. "Do you want to touch them? You can, you know."

He reached out and took her breasts in his hands, and started rubbing them, playing with the nipples.

"Ow, no, gently, Alan, gently. Women like a soft touch."

He did as told, and she began to purr softly, rubbing her ass against the bedspread. "Lick them, but softly, gently, OK?"

He nodded and went at it, but after just a bare minute she pulled his head from her chest. "Take off your pants, everything," she gasped, shedding the dress and wiggling out of her panties. "You're so big," she moaned. "Bigger than my husband. You have got to fuck me with that, right now." She laid back and spread her legs, beckoning him to mount her.

He was trembling as he positioned himself above her. He placed his cock over her blonde thatch and shifted back to attempt penetration, a task he failed to achieve. He stabbed blindly a few times more before she reached down and took him in her hand.

"Oh god, Oh god, Oh god, Oh God, FUCK," he bellowed as he spurted all over her hand, crotch, and stomach. He jumped from the bed and started reaching for his clothes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have to go, I'm sorry," he wept as he moved around the room looking for his socks.

"ALAN! Come back to bed. RIGHT NOW! Put those clothes down." He dropped his stuff and approached the bed, stopping one stride away from her, small tears running down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, really, it's natural. Don't worry really," she soothed as she pulled him back to the bed. She took his dick in her hands and began to give him a gentle handjob. It took him virtually no time to get hard again as she stimulated him, kissing away his tears. She rolled on her back again and pulled him so he was on top again. He tried to put her in again, but she stopped him in mid-try and guided him to the mouth of her pussy.

"Oof!" she grunted as he entered her. "Go slow, Alan, I'll tell you when you can go faster, 'K?"

He nodded, feeding her a little more of him. She groaned and groaned as he pushed forward, and she came as he came to rest all the way inside her. He did nothing, minding her admonition to let her set the pace.

As she came back from her climax she blinked her eyes a few times to refocus on his face, a broad smile painted across her features. With all her strength she lifted her head from the pillow and kissed him with tongue, and she giggled as she felt his manhood jerk in her depths as a response.

"Oh, baby boy, that was wonderful. Pull out a little and push in again. That's right, just like that. Now a little more and a little harder."

He fucked her for a long time, periodically slipping out when he misjudged the pertinent distances, and though he expressed embarrassment, she just pulled him by the member so he was in her again as quick as possible. She came more times than she could remember, her nerves frazzled with orgasmic pleasure, taking no pains to quiet or restrain herself in any way.

"Mrs. Mayhew, Mrs. Mayhew, Mrs. Mayhew! I'm going to lose it again!"

"Yes dear boy, YES, shoot all yourself in me. It's alright! I'm protected."

He loosed an enormous moan as he shot off in her, and she trembled exhaustedly beneath him, too worn out to come again.

"Did I do OK, Mrs. Mayhew?"

"OK, Alan, charade over," she sighed, hugging him hard.

"Was it everything you expected?"

"That, and more," she giggled. "You're some actor."

"Likewise," he said with a grin.

"I wonder what Barb and Will are up to."

Alan closed his eyes and "looked" into the adjacent bedroom. "You don't want to know."

"Quit teasing. Tell me," she demanded.

Alan put his hand on her forehead, and shared his view into Barbara's bedroom. Barbara was tied to the bed with the sashes from two silk bathrobes, her wrists fastened to the headboard. She was face down on the mattress, and Will was fucking her from behind, spanking her as he went along. Alan withdrew his hand, and the scene faded from Chloe's vision.

"I never thought Will was like that. He's so meek."

"Actually, this is what she insisted on. When I altered her I forced her to confide in Will how she wanted it. This is all her. He's the reluctant party."