Carlie

Gregory knew that for the start-up to succeed, everything had to be perfect. There was a synergy that came from the closeness of minds and bodies. So he formed a real, fermenting, creative community. He rented a mountain villa which had enough bedrooms for all the project partners to sleep in, plus a pool, gym, and domestic help. They would be able to live in their own little world and fully immerse themselves in the creative process. They could work when they were playing and play when they were working; morning, noon, or night. They could think through and discuss every angle, every detail, and every problem.

"Have we met somewhere before?" Carlie asked. Everyone had finished dinner and was hanging out by the pool. She had noticed Marc looking at her. Carlie was the last member of the group to arrive. She owned a small but very profitable company that did things in the background to help other companies succeed.

"I've been looking at you because you're gorgeous." He smiled and hoped he did not sound like a sexist pig.

His boldness shocked and delighted her. "Um...thanks."

"I hope that didn't sound creepy," he apologized. He could not tell her age, but she seemed younger than him. He did not want her to think a dirty-old-man had just hit on her. She shook her head.

"No, it wasn't creepy. I kind of liked it." She shook his hand and he introduced himself. "You're that Marc, the guy who is in a ménage-a-trois?"

He smiled. She looked him up and down as if she was assessing him. "They must be pretty special women." He nodded. "And you must be a really special guy." He smiled and nodded again. Was she hitting on him, or just being sociable?

"What about you?" he asked, "I noticed you aren't wearing a ring."

"My husband died in a plane crash about 10 years ago."

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry."

"I miss him every day."

"He must have been really special."

"He was. I'd like to tell you about him, plus hear about your women. I have some wine in my room. Would you like to hang out for a while?" He nodded, hoping she had more in mind than hanging out.

Carlie handed Marc a goblet of white wine and sat down next to him. "So, your wives-"

"They're not wives. We're not married," he pointed out.

"I figured that. You couldn't marry both of them, anyway."

"We never really talked about it. How long were you married?"

"12 years."

"What was he like?"

She thought for a moment. "If you could take all the best features of all the men who ever walked on this earth, and put them into one man, that would be Jack." Her description overwhelmed him. It was obviously an exaggeration, but he could tell that she missed him. She became quietly lost in her memories. When she came back to the present she said, "Yes, it was beautiful." He thought she was about to cry. After another long pause she sighed and said, "Well, I think we have arrived at the moment we both knew was coming."

"Moment?" he said, innocently.

"I think we both know where we hoped this would go."

"Yes," he smiled. She got up and walked toward him, then leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. She started to pull away, but he took her hand, pulled her toward him and they kissed. She held onto his hand and gently pulled him up and led him to her bedroom.

"Sit down on the bed," she said. Then she went into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later in a sheer negligee. It did not hide the lines of her body, it just blurred them. She was open to him, yet not fully revealed. He liked that.

"You're incredibly beautiful," he said. She leaned down to kiss him again.

"Thanks. Your turn." He undressed, slowly, not wanting to look away from her. It took a little longer but she did not seem to care. She liked the way he was looking at her. As soon as he finished she came over to the bed. He reached his arms around her waist, and then kissed her stomach. "Let's lie down," she said.

When they were laying side-by-side, he said, "If this is what you consider hanging out, you must have a lot of friends." She giggled.

"Not as many as you might think." He had no idea what she meant. "So, tell me about your women."

It was the last thing he wanted to talk about. She was curious about in his women but did not care about them. She had already made up her mind she wanted him. "Jane is in her 50s and Paula is in her 40s. They were friends before I met them. Paula and I have a daughter, Julia. I also have a grown daughter, so does Paula, and Jane has a grown son. None of them live with us. You?"

"No kids, I'm afraid. We were too busy."

"You wanted kids?"

"Oh, yes." She again had that faraway look in her eyes. He wondered whether she needed to cry. He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm all right," she said.

"You know, when we came up to your room so we could talk, I didn't think we do this much talking," he said, smiling wryly.

She grinned. "Sorry you came?" She leaned over to kiss him. He put his arms around her and held her against his body. Neither of them was sorry.

Even though they had just met, they made love as if they were old friends who had been together many times before. They were awkward but also slow, sweet and gentle. They did not push for mind-blowing orgasms. They did not want their minds to get blown. They wanted intimacy. Both of them sensed it and were surprised by their own feelings.

When they had had enough, they laid side-by-side. Neither wanted to say anything. Both knew they were not going to talk about what they had just done, and hoped would do again.

"I think this is the part I like the best," he said.

"The afterglow?" she asked.

"Yeah. It almost seems as if my whole body is thanking me for making love with you." She was struck by his comment. Did they really connect that quickly?

"Your whole body? Not just your...?" He smiled but did not reply. She did not know until that moment that she did not want him to leave. "Will you stay?" she asked.

"Um, I didn't bring my jammies," he teased.

"No problem, you can wear mine," she teased back.

He suddenly wanted to fuck her again and this time he wanted them both to have mind-blowing orgasms. They did.