Erica's Story

"I signed a 5 year contract with the university yesterday. Do you know why?"

It is easy to see she is as confused as she is excited. "Did you?"

I reach over and with both hands pull gently at the hem of her dress. When she straightens her arms it slides down easily. I sit up and push off my pants and underwear then, as she stands there looking at me, I remove my socks and shirt.

I looked her in the yes. "Fergie called me after she left you yesterday. She told me about your talk and about the clothes you bought, about the effort you were making. I signed on with the University right after. That was the deal I made with Ferg: we were going to push you around a little, make you confront your problems with the girls, make you make an effort to get me. If you passed the test, and this meal tonight was a huge part of that, I said I'd try my best to make this work. If I saw no effort from you I was going to walk."

She appears stunned so I filled in the final piece.

"Those phones were a great influence." She had given Fergie a bag containing two phones, iPhones with all her numbers programmed into them and a long recorded message for both of them in which she explained how ashamed she was of her conduct; she took all the blame for their rotten relationship; apologized and promised to make everything right again. The phones were to open communication to the two most important people in her life. Fergie told me about them and had decided to wait until after the meal tonight to deliver them.

I think I see anger in her eyes but it doesn't stay very long. "So, what does this mean? Tell me."

"Like I said before, we'll give this a shot for as long as you're trying ... with me and the girls. Stop trying and so will I ... and I bet so will they."

She says nothing, then smirked. "I'm on probation?"

"We all are."

"So, you're going to stay, you're going to move in with me."

"If that's what you want, that's what I want."

She moves the three feet between us and gracefully kneels on the couch straddling me, hugging my face to her chest. After a couple of minutes she says, "Fergie said you're the perfect guy for me. I think she's right."

I grin. "I told her to say that."

She pulls away, looks down on me and sees I was kidding. "But you planned all this with her?"

"We were allies ... are allies and we're going to stay allies. We both want the very same thing but with different girls. And we both know that things will only work out well for us if all of us are getting what we want."

When she leans forward and puts her forehead on my shoulder I bring my hands up and caress her warm back. She purrs.

"Can we have a lot of this, Allen?"

I bring my hands down and squeeze her tight little cheeks then knead at her slim thighs made strong by all her walking. "You have to tell me what ... you find uncomfortable. I don't want to scare you."

She reaches under her crotch and feels me. "Doesn't it ever get hard at night?"

Not my favourite subject. "It can get a little."

"Enough?"

"I don't know." And I didn't.

She awkwardly gets off me and says, kneeling beside me, "I want to try." She deftly takes her pantyhose and panties off then straddles me again, taking my mostly limp prick in her hand. Then she looks down at me and smiles as she rubs me up and down against the inside of her slick lips. "Tell me what to do that will help."

I chuckle. "That will help." And it did, a little, enough so that she tries to push me into her. But it is the proverbial playing pool with a rope, at first, but she keeps dragging me between her surprisingly wet lips and I can feel myself slowly rising to the occasion, enough where she finally brings me to her opening and sits further down on me, sliding me into her, if imperfectly.

Both arms are around my neck now and she is very slowly fucking me being very careful that I don't slip out.

I grow stronger and more confident with the attention and join her rhythm thrilled that she is into it. I bring my hands up and undo her bra and when I throw it on the couch her mouth finds mine and she sucks the life out of me, almost frantically, her tongue circling mine, her moans building as I feel she is.

Fucking to me has always meant love, mainly because almost all of it for me has been with a woman I had loved deeply. That feeling comes back, the giving, the desire, the hunger. I feel myself wanting to get more muscular, more insistent but I back off not wanting to scare her. But I doubt that I could. She is giving me everything she has, I know that and I love her for it, right up to the moment the phone rings. She stops and waits, as if she isn't sure of the sound.

"Leave it." I demand.

"No. It might be them." She quickly climbs off me and strides the few steps over to the phone by the chair. It pisses me off but I let it pass. As I've said, she has an amazingly elegant body, spare but wonderfully feminine, sexy in a way I've never experienced. The sight of her helps, but I don't want to lose the moment so I slowly stroke my cock as she talks and for added incentive (and dramatic affect) I reach over and picks up her panties and press them to my face as I eavesdrop on the call that I guess is from Ava.

She is back in a minute but she stops a few feet from me and watches me, a smile growing on her her lovely face.

"I want to keep being ... able," I say, throwing the panties aside.

"Those things really work for you, eh?" She climbs on me and puts my half-stiff prick back in her. Then she kisses me. "It was Ava. She thanked me for the dinner, for the phone and she asked me to tell you that she's thought about it and she'd like to talk to your brother whenever it is convenient." She kisses me again and starts back in on the slow fuck.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow ... the poor guy. He's going to be as confused with her as I am, and probably as enthralled. That woman hasn't hit her stride yet but when she does, watch out."

She hugs me roughly for a full minute communicating all kinds of wonderfully positive things then she says, "None of us Curtis girls have hit her stride yet although I'm getting very, very close."

The phone rings again, and again she stops but this time when she gets off me she reaches down and gets her panties and hands them to me before walking over to answer.

I watch and wait and pump and sniff but she doesn't put the phone down this time. She comes back over and hands it to me then crawls back on me and put me back again.

"It's Fergie, Mr. Carsten. I've been holding my breath ever since we left." She pauses for a few moments and Erica starts in on me again, this time with considerably more aggression. "Are we still a team or ..."

She couldn't help but hear the moan. "Ya, Ferg, we're still a team."

She hesitates again. "I love that sound; I live for that sound — it's the same as Gail's. Welcome to the family, Mr. Carsten." She hangs up just before the wailing begins and just before my long primitive groans turn into grunts.

She is on her feet the moment the moaning is over. "Here," she says, handing me her panties again, then pulling me to my feet. "And no more bullshit about you being just a morning guy."