Equal Shares Ch. 12


Anne imagined it was Stan's finger, gently teasing her, as she moved the vibrator to her nipples, teasing first one then the other, while her middle finger on her left hand plunged into her depths, getting thoroughly wet. She added her index finger while sliding the vibrator down to her navel. She felt her excitement building, imagining Stan touching her, caressing her, sending her higher and higher...

She lifted her left hand a little, sliding it up between her engorged labia until she reached her sweet spot. She teased her clitoris for a while with her fingers, then moved the vibrator down to a spot just above it so it was buzzing furiously, exciting her clit through its hood.

Her left hand now pulling, twisting at her nipples, back arching, breath gasping, she kept at this for a minute or two before she cried out involuntarily as her release came upon her. She kept her hand and the vibrator going as she powered through her orgasm, then pulled the toy away and curled up, knees near her chin, like a baby, damply moaning, hair an unholy mess where it wasn't plastered to her head. .

She stayed there for a couple of minutes before lunging after the still buzzing tube and turning it off. She put it back into the drawer, slid the drawer shut, lay back and sighed, utterly spent. She closed her eyes, rolled onto her side and went to sleep with the scent of her arousal still flaring her nostrils.

Stan, though sober, might as well have drunk a whole bottle of the wine himself. He was totally intoxicated by Anne. He drove home in a daze, finding himself in his house with no idea how he'd got there, his jacket slung over a chair and walking into the bathroom. He was as hard as he'd ever been, just like a teenager. He grinned as he realized he was about to do something he hadn't done in a long, long while.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked it, to provide lubrication, then gripped his jutting erection and began to stroke. He closed his eyes and saw images of Anne, her eyes, her mouth, her long beautiful legs. He imagined the hidden charms so far mysterious to him. He started stroking faster. In his mind, he could see those hands crooking a finger at him, feel them touching him, sense those legs entwined around him. He saw Anne's face, those wonderful hazel eyes smoky with lust, that elfin face, those marvellously kissable lips... As he neared his climax he imagined her, lying on the bed, thrusting back up at him while he felt himself plunging into her heated depths, and... 'Where were the tissues?'

He felt his orgasm beginning and snatched some toilet paper from the roll. He came, strongly, pulsing into the wadded up tissue. Gasping, mouth dry and gummed, he took a moment to calm down, then cleaned up. Disposing of the tissue, he staggered his way through an abbreviated night-time routine and went downstairs for some water. He gulped some down and then drank the remainder at a more leisurely pace, before climbing back up the stairs. He got into bed, and lay there a moment, thinking.

He hadn't thought of Caron since looking in the mirror before leaving. Did he feel guilty? A bit, he decided, 'Sorry, love. I know you don't mind. You told me to move on, so I will, but I promise not to forget you, my darling.' The eyes on him were amused but forgiving and so, content, he went to sleep.

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