Alice Ch. 06 - New Chapter

Phil Anderer has the unamiable task of correcting my spelling, fixing my grammar, and making my random thoughts make sense. Once again, thanks goes to his patience.

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In the quiet of the night, around 2am, Frank stirred from his sleep, the call of nature beckoning. As he navigated his way back from the bathroom, the moonlight spilled into the bedroom, casting a gentle illumination over Alice. The covers had been tossed aside in her sleep, revealing her in a state of peaceful repose.

Frank paused at the edge of the bed, captivated by the serene image before him. He found himself straddling two worlds in that moment. Memories of a similar scene with Rose years ago flooded his mind, stirring a blend of nostalgia and longing. How he wished he could encapsulate moments like these, to revisit them beyond the confines of memory--capturing not just the visual, but the warmth of the room, Alice's scent, the texture of the cotton sheets beneath him.

This night marked their first-time making love, a milestone in their relationship. Frank cherished the thought, knowing the uniqueness of a first experience could never be replicated. His mind, however, couldn't help but wander to the concept of 'last times'--those poignant farewells that often pass unrecognized until they're part of the past.

Shaking off the melancholy, Frank redirected his thoughts to the initial moments of intimacy he shared with Rose, finding solace in the continuity of life's intimate milestones. Each 'first time' carried its own beauty, a reminder of the capacity for renewal and the enduring nature of love.

Frank and Rose had spent a few weeks returning to their secluded spot by the lake. It offered them a measure of privacy they didn't have anywhere else. Frank had roommates and Rose still lived at home. The spot was at the end of an old logger's road. A road led down the side of a cliff face, but a short cover of trees blocked the view from above. Frank would park the car at the end of the road, blocking it. Anyone arriving by car would need to walk the rest of the way, giving them time to cover up if they had been unfortunate enough to not have heard the car coming. All other views would need a pair of binoculars and a few hours of hiking.

This privacy had allowed them to be relaxed and spend time exploring each other's bodies. Frank had received his first blowjob. A pleasant surprise as Rose had built it up by telling him exactly what she was going to do.

"I am going to take you into my mouth," she had told him. "Then I am going to gently suck. You will slide in and out of my warm mouth, then I am then going to swallow what you give me."

It was a process that didn't take all that long. Just thinking about her words had taken him most of the way there. At the pivotal moment, he had grabbed her head and pulled her tight. For that he had received a slap on the tummy. Rose had realized it was an involuntary reaction and wasn't at all upset.

There was one thing she did get upset about. She had swallowed his ejaculate and licked clean the last few dribbles. Then she lay down beside him again and leaned in for a kiss. For a moment Frank hesitated. She had just had his sperm in her mouth; he wasn't sure if he would taste it or if he even wanted to.

"Frank!" she snapped. "I just put your dick in my mouth and let you use it like a vagina. You are getting squeamish about a kiss. It's ok for me to swallow your stuff, but not for you? See I have already swallowed it all."

She opened her mouth for him to check; she was genuinely annoyed by this. He didn't look, instead he looked down in shame. She was right and he felt foolish about it. He apologized and made a point of giving her a deep kiss. There may have been a slight residual taste, but he was sure he was just imagining it.

Frank was also schooled in the art of pleasing Rose with his mouth and fingers. He had spent hours with his face between her legs, an act he really enjoyed more so for Rose's reaction. Bringing her pleasure like that really made him feel good.

She had no problem kissing him after. In fact, she made a comment that tasting herself on his lips made her super excited. It was physical proof of what he had just finished doing. Frank didn't fully understand but enjoyed the sentiment all the same.

It was one of these afternoons together when they had their first time. Both were relaxing after taking turns pleasing each other. Like the teenagers they were, they really couldn't get enough. Sometimes Frank worried about driving home afterward, he was so exhausted.

Rose was casually stroking his hard cock when she asked him a question.

"You know I have been with others?" Rose asked him. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

Frank and Rose's relationship blossomed in an era marked by paradoxical social norms--where boys were pressured to boast of sexual conquests to assert their masculinity, while girls faced scorn and the derogatory label of "sluts" for engaging in similar behaviors. This societal double standard left little room for nuance or understanding, raising the perplexing question of how these expectations were supposed to align. Who were these boys supposed to be with, if not the very girls society was quick to shame?

In the midst of these conflicting messages, Frank's view of Rose stood as a beacon of respect and admiration. He never succumbed to the derogatory labels of the time; to him, Rose was above such base judgments. The thought of Rose's past lovers hadn't crossed his mind much before. Whether they had loved her in the way he did was unknown to him, and though a part of him wondered about it, he realized that, in the grand scheme of things, it didn't truly matter. At that moment, his focus was on the love they shared, untainted by the judgments and expectations of the world around them.

Frank shook his head to Rose's question.

"Good!" she told him. "Maybe they were just practice so I could please you.

"Frank, I want to try something, share something new with you. Do you trust me?"

Frank nodded; she had his cock in her hand; he would have nodded if she was sharing plans to rob a bank together.

Rose reached into picnic basket they had brought and scraped a dollop of butter onto her finger. She then wiped it all over Frank's cock and started to stroke.

It felt wonderful, the lubrication made Rose's hand feel like her mouth. Frank made a mental note to try this at home during his morning shower session. He wasn't sure how he was going to sneak butter into the bathroom, but it was worth the risk.

After a couple of minutes, Rose had a look of certainty on her face, like she had just concluded something.

She started to her knees and straddled him. Reaching behind her she guided the tip of his cock into her puckered opening. For a moment Frank thought he was entering her pussy for the first time, but quickly realized this was different. Rose eased herself down slowly.

"Wait!" she panted. "Don't move!"

Frank hadn't actually done anything, but maybe it was a warning not to. Rose looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"Wow!" Rose exclaimed. "That is stretching me a bit."

That was an understatement, Rose felt like she was being split open. After a few moments she took a breath and pushed down some more, stopped, and panicked a little. She slapped Frank's chest a couple of times and panted some more.

It took a few minutes before she reached a point, where she considered herself fully penetrated.

"OK!" she said, as if trying to decide what to do next.

Slowly she lifted herself up a little and eased her way back down. A moan escaped her lips and her pace picked up a little. Frank reached between them and used his thumb to massage her clit. Rose sped up for a moment and then pulled his hand away.

"Stop, if I cum we will have to stop," Rose panted between strokes. "It is a bit painful, but so hot. The pleasure is fighting the painful part."

It didn't take long before Frank knew he couldn't hold back. Just thinking about what they were doing wasn't helping; he had no choice but to cum hard. Rose sat down hard and pushed as much of his cock inside herself as she could. Her fingers moved to her pussy and fingered her button to a fast and powerful orgasm. It was a sight to behold for Frank. The woman he loved in the throes of pleasure, with the setting sun as their backdrop.

A short while later, Rose slid off him and grabbing a hand towel they had brought along, sat cross legged smiling at him.

"There!" she said. "Now we have shared a first time together. I promise you, it won't be the last time we do that. Although we might move on to more traditional ways for a while and let my bum heal a little."

She fanned herself with her hand for a bit. "That was good, better than I thought it would be."

Frank just lay there, smiling. He had been inside her and it had been wonderful. He couldn't help wondering how her pussy might feel. He couldn't wait to find out.

"Frank?" A voice interrupted his reminiscing. Alice had woken up and was staring up at him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Frank smiled down at her.

He lay down next to her and pulled her in as the little spoon. He was hard from his memories, and she was at an age when she was constantly wet. He slipped inside her and they enjoyed a slow rhythm, falling asleep before either had finished.

It was close to eight in the morning when they finally stirred from their deep slumber. Alice, awakening first, turned her gaze to Frank, still lost in the realm of dreams. A smile found its way to her lips as she observed him; even in sleep, he exuded the grace and composure of the gentleman she had come to know and love. There was something profoundly reassuring about his presence, a sense of safety and protection she realized she had never experienced before. Deep within, she felt an unwavering trust in Frank, a belief that he would never cause her harm. The desire to spend her life enveloped in this feeling of security and love washed over her. Reflecting on the previous night, she understood the depth of their connection--it was the first time she felt truly loved in the most physical and spiritual sense.

Thoughts of Rose began to weave through her mind, igniting a curiosity about the woman who once held Frank's heart. Despite not even knowing what Rose looked like, Alice felt a connection with her, a sort of familial bond. Still, it left so much unanswered. Who was she? What had become of her? Despite the myriad questions swirling in her head, Alice was unsure how to broach the subject. The penthouse bore no traces of Rose; no photographs or personal effects hinted at her existence. Frank's stories about Rose were spoken with a tender reverence, suggesting their separation wasn't due to divorce. Alice concluded that Rose must have passed away, but the details remained a mystery. She resolved to gently probe for more information, waiting for the right moment to learn more about the woman who shaped the man she loved.

As Frank awakened, he found Alice's inquisitive eyes upon him. He greeted her gaze with a warm smile, and she responded with a soft kiss.

"Good morning, Frank," Alice whispered, their morning unfolding with the quiet intimacy of two souls intertwined, each moment building upon the last, deepening their bond.

As they made their way toward the kitchen, Frank instinctively veered off to grab his robe, but Alice gently stopped him. With a reassuring smile, she took his hand, guiding him down the corridor instead. Frank, accustomed to admiring Alice's comfort with her own nudity, found himself slightly out of his element, missing the familiar refuge of pockets for his hands.

In the kitchen, Alice busied herself with preparing cappuccinos, a skill she had honed to near perfection, and laid out breakfast. A fresh loaf of bread, an assortment of jams delivered just the day before, berries, and thickened cream adorned the table. The inspiration for their morning meal had come from a simple online search for 'breakfast ideas', resulting in a spread that was both visually appealing and appetizing.

Frank broke the comfortable silence with a question about Alice's studies. "How is school going?" he inquired, genuinely interested in her progress.

Internally, Alice considered the reality of her academic journey. It was challenging, more so than she had anticipated, and she viewed obtaining her degree as a formidable endeavor. Despite this, her resolve to succeed and make Frank proud fueled her determination.

"Good," she answered, choosing to focus on the positive aspects. "I'm enjoying the class."

Her response was sincere, to an extent. Alice truly appreciated learning practical skills like budgeting, creating balance sheets, and calculating discounts--knowledge that felt applicable and empowering. However, the mathematical demands of her coursework, particularly the challenge of applying specific formulas to various transactions, proved less enjoyable. Yet, she remained committed, motivated by her desire to excel and the support she felt from Frank.

"Tell me more about Rose, if you want," Alice asked him.

Alice's gentle inquiry about Rose opened a tender chapter from Frank's past, prompting him to tread carefully as he recounted those days. He understood the weight of the story he was about to share and sought to navigate the narrative with due reverence for the moments that truly mattered.

"Well," he began, gathering his thoughts, "as you know, Rose and I had grown quite close."

He spoke of a significant milestone in their relationship--Rose inviting him to a Sunday dinner as her official boyfriend. The thought of dining with not just his girlfriend's family but also his employer, filled Frank with apprehension. The dinner would include Rose's parents and her younger sister, Ann, marking Frank's formal introduction into their family circle.

Rose, sensing his nervousness, offered advice to ease his worries. She suggested bringing white roses for her mother and a specific bottle of wine that her father would appreciate; small gestures to endear him to her family. "He might give you a hard time at first, but he's really quite approachable," she reassured Frank, her words aimed at calming his nerves.

When Sunday came, Frank arrived punctually, albeit after circling the block to time his arrival perfectly. Standing on the doorstep, he felt a profound sense of isolation, as if he were the first man ever to face the daunting task of meeting a girlfriend's parents.

Mr. Kroeger, Rose's father, greeted him at the door. To Frank, he seemed larger than life, a towering figure despite their similar heights. "Good evening, Frank. Won't you come in?" Mr. Kroeger invited, extending a hand.

Frank's attempt to juggle the wine and flowers, ultimately trying to shake Mr. Kroeger's hand, was a clumsy dance of etiquette and nerves. Fortunately, Jill, Rose's mother, arrived just in time to relieve him of the flowers, preventing any mishap.

"Mr. Kroeger, it's good to see you," Frank managed to say.

"Tom," Mr. Kroeger corrected gently, signaling a shift from formalities to a more personal interaction. "We're at dinner, not at work. Let's lower the formalities."

"Tom," Frank repeated, the name feeling unfamiliar yet intimate on his tongue, marking a pivotal moment of connection beyond the professional boundaries that once defined their relationship.

The dinner featured a delicious roast accompanied by potatoes, mixed vegetables, and a rich gravy. Frank's primary concern throughout the meal was to ensure that none of the gravy found its way onto his shirt, a minor worry amidst the more pressing task of engaging with Rose's family.

Attempting to navigate questions about his background, Frank felt a twinge of embarrassment regarding his humble beginnings. He endeavored to portray himself as a burgeoning entrepreneur, a facade inspired by Rose's influence and his aspirations to rise above his past.

Ann, Rose's younger sister, played the role of the inquisitive sibling, her questions laced with potential pitfalls for Frank. "So, what do you and my sister spend your evenings doing? We hardly see her at home anymore," Ann inquired, a question loaded with implications.

A swift, cautionary scowl from Rose to her sister caught Frank's attention, signaling him to tread carefully. He chose to mention their recent picnic by the lake, a memory that held significant intimacy for him and Rose. As he recounted the evening, he couldn't help but recall the deeper moments they shared, wondering if Rose had confided any details to her sister or if Ann's curiosity stemmed from assumptions about what two teenagers might do alone by a lake.

Before Ann could probe further, Rose intervened, deftly shifting the spotlight back onto her sister by mentioning a recent sighting of Ann with Jimmy in the park. The conversation swiftly pivoted to Ann, with Jill suggesting that Jimmy be invited to dinner if he and Ann had indeed grown close.

As attention focused on Ann, her expression shifted to one of someone wishing to vanish from the spotlight. Frank observed the scene, relieved at Rose's timely intervention and the temporary reprieve from the scrutiny, appreciating the complexities and dynamics of family interactions.

After dinner, Tom led Frank to his study, proposing they leave the girls to it while they enjoyed a drink together. The study was a room of refined taste, featuring large black leather chairs and walls adorned with bookshelves brimming with books. A counter, nestled between the shelves, served as a bar.

Tom expertly poured a generous measure of Tawny Port into a crystal glass for Frank, then filled one for himself. The ambiance of the room, coupled with the rich aroma of the port, set a tone of solemnity and anticipation.

"Rose has had nothing but wonderful things to say about you, Frank," Tom began, breaking the silence with an observation that caught Frank off guard. "She seems to think you're going to be the next big name in advertising."

Caught by surprise and unsure of how to react, Frank hesitated before finally managing a "thank you."

"Thank Rose," Tom countered, a hint of skepticism in his tone. "It was her comment, not mine. To be honest, I'm not so sure she's correct. You seemed to know absolutely nothing about advertising when you started a couple of months ago."

Frank's stomach clenched at Tom's words, a vivid reminder of his initial ignorance in the field. Tom's observation was undeniably true--Frank had entered the world of advertising without a clue, driven by his desire to impress Rose and, perhaps, to find a place where he belonged. His journey thus far had been one of rapid learning, attempting to embody the role of an advertising professional, a dream he had adopted to align with Rose's vision for him.

The conversation in Tom's study, under the gentle glow of lamplight and the weight of Tom's scrutiny, was a moment of reckoning for Frank. It underscored the gap between the image he had presented and the reality of his experience, a chasm he hoped to bridge.

Tom allowed the silence and tension to build, giving Frank a moment that seemed to stretch infinitely, laden with discomfort and self-doubt. For Frank, those seconds felt like an eternity, during which he half-wished for an escape, however improbable.

Then, breaking the heavy atmosphere, Tom's expression softened into a genuine smile, a stark contrast to the solemnity that had preceded. "You're trying to impress Rose, I understand that," Tom acknowledged, his voice carrying a mix of insight and empathy. "I'd much prefer you love my daughter and take advantage of me, rather than the other way around."

With this statement, Tom laid bare the complexity of their situation--a shared goal that intertwined their interests. "This leaves us both with a dilemma," he continued. "To make my daughter happy, you need to succeed in advertising, and it falls upon me to assist you in that endeavor."