Breaking Covid

Breaking Covid

Part 1

He got the text while he was getting his hair cut. While he was pinned in the chair, covered in the smock and cuttings of his hair. He could not reach for it. This modern affectation of instant communication was interrupted but the common action of getting one's haircut. His Pavlov's dog reaction made him itch. He was curious to know who sent him something.

He reminded himself that it was probably his sister, whining again about living in the great state of Georgia. It could be his stepmom telling him that she was feeling sick after going to his stupid step- Nephew's wedding last weekend.

Who throws a huge wedding with well over 100 people, in an enclosed church, without separation, no masks, in a time of pandemic? Well it turns out his stepbrother, all to placate the Bride that wanted her huge white wedding. He had sent a card and $200.

Or, it could be his good friend informing him of the next stupid political move by either party.

He felt decadent, leaning back and having his hair trimmed. He liked it longer, but the last two times he did the 'covid cut' himself with trimmers and a couple of mirrors. So here he was, sitting, tilting his head this way and that, having a relatively attractive young woman, trim his hair and talk about local gossip.

Her eyes were amazing, he always focused on the eyes. Eyes were the always his weak point. They truly were the window to the soul. Regretfully this young ladies' eyes, while physically beautiful, were glassy and showed no life and no joy. That and her haphazard tattoo's, showing a habit of poor choices and bad art.

She finished his haircut and he gladly paid and provided a nice tip. He was off to other adventures. He was halfway through his weekly shopping list when he remembered the text. He paused leaning his arms against the handle of the shopping cart and pulled his phone from his pocket. A quick button push, taping a code, and he was in. He pulled down the icon bar and hit the message symbol.

His heart stopped for a second and then flared with joy.

The text read 'I am on my way'

She was coming, he was ecstatic. She always knew there was a standing invitation, but usually it took a lot of wheedling to get her to agree. With the pandemic and her being in the LA basin, downright begging had come to no use. He always hoped that living a couple of hundred miles north, along the coast would be more enticing to her.

His mind reeled. He immediately went into overdrive. Reservations at his favorite outdoor restaurant, maybe a second reservation at the Italian place, just in case her mood would be in that direction. He had to finish grocery shopping, put the stuff away, do a wipe down of the kitchen, change sheets...lots to do and he had only two hours at the most.

Her favorite rose was in the fridge, he had plenty of Syrah. He should grab some cheese and cracker

combos. Hum, things for breakfast in case she did not want to go out. Things for road trips in case she wanted to be out in the sun getting photos of the local scenery.

He would much prefer to keep her naked in bed for a day or two, but reality was reality. He always remembered and she was quick to remind him, of her power of persuasion. Her pussy ruled him, and he had to bow a head in acknowledgement.

Quickly wrapping up the shopping and sprinted home. A check on the hot tub, thankfully he had just cleaned it and changed the filters. Must add a quick vacuuming to the 'to do' list.

He sprinted through his lists, added to the lists, checked off the lists and with ½ left, dove into the shower for his own cleaning. A quick shave, cleaning all the important parts and then a bit more time shaving more tender areas.

He had teased her before with shaving and manscaping below his belt line. She had found it titillating during one of their several long-distance sexual discussions over a glass of wine or two.

He had completed a de-foliage before, a month or two ago, when he thought he had begged enough to have her come up for his birthday. Alas, that never came to fruition. But the deed was done, and his cock and balls were shorn and shaved in anticipation for the day he could slide inside her and bare skin would meet bare skin.

His pup gave him the first inkling that she had arrived. She was one of the few people that dog actually liked. Her growl and bark were a whole different variety than she greeted other friends or the hated UPS driver. He finished buttoning his white button down and tucked it into his shorts.

He looked out the window and could do nothing but smile, she was here. He opened the door and stood in the doorway and his pup stuck here nose out cautiously by his legs. She was terrified by the outdoors but could not help greeting her new friend on her arrival.

He stood aside as she cleared the doorway and gave her a soft chase kiss on her luscious lips in greeting. He grabbed her bag and closed the door. He asked how her trip had gone as he headed to the bedroom to drop off her gear. He also grabbed some lotion for later.

She was somewhat noncommittal, long, traffic, nice to get out of LA proper.

He had learned this was norm for her. Their very erotic and sexual discussion over the phone were normally fueled by her sexual desire. He was always sexually high when she was involved. So, when she was in the mood and had a glass of wine or three, talks about just 'getting pounded' and taking her in public, would bring her to orgasm.

This was not one of his erotic stories that he read or wrote. This was not a Bodice ripping romance novel where they first looked into each other's eyes and started ripping clothes off. He knew she was turned on. She was by the drive alone, or she would not be here. There was time for some amazing sex later, it always was with her. But she needed lots of foreplay on her trips up north.

He went to the kitchen and opened her Kim Rose. Pouring a glass for each of them he came back in and gave her hers. She had kicked off her shoes and that left her long legs bare to mid upper thigh where her shorts ended.

He picked up her feet and placed them in his lap. He let her get a couple of gulps of her rose in her. He picked up the lotion and started to massage her feet while they began to talk. He knew that was part of her foreplay, talking to an adult who could empathize with their daily experiences and frustrations on how her profession was morphing without real understanding of the final consequences.

It was interesting to him. He loved to hear her talk and understand her frustrations. He loved hearing her talk and he loved to hear about her life. He had known her for 40 years, and still found her enthralling. He kept massaging her feet and ankles, not out of some foot fetish, but because it gave him a chance at some form of intimacy while she allowed her frustrations to be let loose.

She taught and molded young minds, a teacher for over 30 years. To him it was a linear sort of profession, not in a bad way. A progression of learning that started from a child's early age and was built on with principles, knowledge and love through the years. He knew and told her she was good at it. She knew she was, not out of ego, but out of the experience and the practice of her profession over so many years.

His profession was opposite to hers. A senior manager for several international construction corporations, he had purposely downgraded to a simple position with a governmental agency back at home. His career was based on planning, re-planning, and having the whole circus blow up once the project started. He spent his days having to control the lions, tigers, and bears day by day, hour by hour. The clowns were the worst. No matter the size of the job, $5K or $55 million, it was always the same.

So, is was nice to massage her feet, look into her beautiful eyes and try and empathize with her passions for teaching the children of our future. As she finished her first glass, he went to get her more. He had purposely left the bottle in the kitchen so he could lean over and request another kiss. This kiss was still soft and relative chaste, but longer and she had put her hand around his neck to make sure it was as long as she wanted it.

They talked and then planned for dinner. He had been talking about the scallops at his favorite restaurant so long, she was in. He cancelled the second reservation and she made fun of him for his duality of planning. He just shrugged, he was used to having a plan A, B and C. It's how his circus ran.

They walked arm in arm to dinner, early, but they could catch a drink in a multitude of locations once downtown. He stopped once or twice to point out the flowers he had sent her in good morning wishes as he walked to work each day.

A glass of wine at a local establishment, letting them talk more about almost nothing. They talked politics but their beliefs were more in line than apart, so it made for few awkward moments. They walked down a couple of blocks, hand in hand, its hard to describe the joy for him in such simple PDA's.

Finally, a shared dinner. Just the ordering was the beginnings of more foreplay, maybe just for him, but hopefully her too. They shared their food and she did love the diver's scallops, like he thought she would. He had the lobster ravioli and of course they treated the sharing of food like more foreplay.

End Part 1