Grace Takes a Time Out Ch. 05

1st Friday

At 8:00 the doorbell rings but Grace doesn't budge. She's merely tired looking now, not haggard; her dark blonde hair in disarray, wearing a dirty plaid long sleeve work shirt, cut-off denim shorts almost to her knees and sandals. She grips the coffee mug with both hands as she waits for the "Hi Grace. It's me, Peter," as the front door opens and closes; a few seconds later he comes walking into the kitchen, apparently on air. Tall, lean, wiry muscles, everything looking clean and shiny from his beat-up old athletic shoes, his nondescript old board shorts, his paint spattered t-shirt, and his smiling face and neatly combed dark hair. He radiates sunny morning energy.

"I guess your date went better than mine." says Grace as she looks him up and down with interest. "Coffee?"

"Naa. Ice tea is fine - I can make it myself. You look like you've been run hard and put away wet. Yeah, my date went OK. I was reminded that I should not judge the book by the cover, or in this case, the woman by the size of her tits."

"There's an insight for you. So, are they real? Did you achieve any of the goals we talked about yesterday?"

"Give me a minute. What happened on your date - just the 30 second summary is OK if it was bad."

"Pretty simple: Too much sex lubricated by too much alcohol topped off by not enough sleep. At least we had our clothes mainly back on by the time Judy's daughter showed up at midnight; she drove me home. Then of course, bad sleep. So I am hung over and sleep deprived. The aspirins I should have taken last night haven't kicked in yet. You'd better have a good story for me or I'll to slap that happy smile right off your face." This last statement made only half seriously.

"Ok, here it is." He gives her a mischievous smile as he sits down and prepares to tell his tale. "I picked her up at about 6. I was surprised that she was better looking and more together than I recall from school; she's about 5'-7 not exactly slender, more like solid but lithe. She had a loose shirt, tight capris, and flats of some kind; I'd never seen her with make-up and I almost didn't recognize her when she answered the door. I thought it was weird at the time, but she had this big satchel, like an airplane carry-on, that she wanted me to put in the van."

"What do you mean 'better looking and more together'?" asks Grace.

"At school she was very plain and usually wore kind of baggy clothes - like to hide her appearance. It was never enough though, 'cause you could tell about the tits and guys would be trying to talk her up. Last night she was definitely made-up and although the clothes were not flashy she had an attractive sort of I've-got-it-together look. As we drove to the place we talked about school and other stuff. Evidently we went to the same high school, but she was a year behind and I didn't know her; the class at JC where I saw her last year was an extra for her - she's fairly sharp. She said that Jack had been after her for a while to date and this would have been a first date. She asked me if I was dating and I told her the truth - older woman, short term, 3 times a day. She said she's not dating anyone, just sort of odds and ends."

"That's flattering. At least for Jack," Grace puts in sarcastically. "Was she put off when you told her about me? There's, like, about 3 things out of 3 in there that would make you an instant non-starter for most women. I hope you had the charm turned way up."

"She was honestly curious, as if this is some fascinating true life adventure I'm on. That you knew I went out with her, that you had a girlfriend I knew about, that even though it's short term it's pretty intense. No judgements; it was like someone told her pigs could fly and her reaction was 'Wow, that's so cool' and she'd have to think about what it might be like."

"But, like I said about Jack," Peter continued "he'd been after her, and must have decided the cost of the tickets was worth it to get a shot at her. I'm saying this, she didn't. She said she remembered me from last year and when Jack set me up to fill in she was looking forward to getting to know me better. I don't know why - we talked a bit last year but nothing outstanding."

Grace smirks and winks. "Maybe, like me, she could see your potential." And then she lets him get on with his story. By the time he gets to the part with the sex in the park Grace is upright in her chair, leaning forward towards Peter, attentive, and looking less hung over. "Wow! I think your instructor is going to give you A-triple-plus on your homework assignment. What else, or was that the end?"

"I think that after sex with you three times in the afternoon, my system was drawn down some because it took a while for me to come. She moaned and groaned and called out more and when she did orgasm, it wasn't as loud as the first time, but it set me off and it was really powerful for me. We talked a little afterwards and she was very complimentary - she said 'I guess I know why this woman wants to screw you three times a day'." Grace starts to laugh. "Hey, I thought it was a great compliment and I thanked her for it. I was pretty flattered."

"Good man," says Grace, still laughing. "Was that the end of it?"

"No. After a while, and we're still lying there talking about school this fall, she's going to be at the JC, she rolls over on her side next to me and reaches down to my dick and starts to stroke it. Then she asks if I've got any more condoms, because she'd like another round. So I find the strip where I tucked it under the edge of the blanket, suit up, and we start going at it again: hands, lips, tits, more tits, dick, pussy, skin everywhere and so on until we are both really hot and I'm recharged. She pushes me over on my back, mounts up, and goes at it with a vengeance. I was already sore from the afternoon and the first time with her, but it was pretty darn good!" Grace smiles again. "After that we took some time to calm down, finish the beers, got dressed and packed up. I think I dropped her off around 1:00. She said I should for sure and without fail call her once the older woman was out of the picture, and she'd see me at school."

"Do you think she came after you because you told her about me?"

"Don't know. Maybe she took it as a challenge, or maybe she wanted to prove it couldn't be true. Or maybe she just had a good time and likes me. Either way, it sure was an ego boost for me. Oh, and by the way, they are real, bigger than yours, but not gi-normous as you speculated yesterday."

"Well that's OK then. I'd hate to think you're being corrupted by plastic tits." They laugh. "Are you going to be able to get your swelled head through a normal doorway so we can get that guest room painted?"

As he gets up to go to work he pauses. "I almost forgot: turns out Shirley is a really close friend of Alicia, the girl I told you about that I dated a couple of years ago." Grace nods. "Shirley told me Alicia's Dad died last summer. I was shocked." Already he had started to turn back to the hall to go to work so he didn't see Grace's eyes go wide and the color drain from her face.

She pulled herself together quickly and replied "I'm sorry to hear that, Peter."

"Yeah, it really sucks. I'm going to give Alicia a call later today." And with that he was off to work.

*

In the mid-afternoon Grace and Peter have enough done on the second bedroom to take a break while the first coat dries. Another hot day, but by opening the window and bringing in a big fan that Grace found in the garage, they think they can be ready for a second coat in an hour. Grace has changed her long sleeve work shirt for a tank top, her long denim shorts for track shorts, and worked off the hangover. They are sweaty enough they might be contestants in a wet t-shirt contest, and they're tired. A late lunch break is the thing so they prowl various kitchen shelves and refrigerator. Once they have located the good beer and some sandwich materials and fruit they sit down at the table. After some beer and half a sandwich Peter asks the inevitable question: "Tell me about your date."

"Not much to tell. We had dinner, drank a bottle of wine, had some after dinner drinks, snuggled up in Judy's bed and had some hot girl sex, another bottle of wine, and remembered to get out of bed and get dressed before Judy's kid showed up. I don't exactly kiss and tell, you know."

"You managed to extract a long dialogue with details, places, and the like from me. I wouldn't normally kiss and tell either, but you are not telling me much at all." Peter is disappointed and wants to be told a good story.

"What do you want - girl stuff we talked about, girl stuff we did in bed, girl stuff about what we drank?" Grace seems defensive; hesitant to tell all.

"I told you what Shirley and I talked about to give you a sense of what was going on; I told you about the sex stuff because you were dying to know - partly because all my experience is from you, and partly just your prurient curiosity." He gives her a hard look. "I admit, I feel pretty good about it all and I am happy to share it with the one who helped me get there. I appreciate all you've done for me. Are you embarrassed about your relationship with Judy? I can only dimly guess what you've been through the last 8 months, but I've been around here and seen your unhappiness, and I am glad you are making your way, however you do it. I'm enjoying sex with you, but that's a fantasy I'll wake up from in a couple of weeks. I may be young and stupid and just passing through, but I want you to be happy."

Grace is choked up, and speaks with hesitation: "Thank you Peter. You have been a huge help since Joe died, heck, you were a big help around here before he died. This week, since I went crazy and started pursuing and screwing you I have been pushing my own limits to the max, pretty much just so I can see how far I can go. That is about me, not you - you are a remarkably good sex partner and I value and enjoy that, even in so short a time. You're fun without being flippant, and I really like that; I try to please you too. Sex with Judy - this is even more outside my experience than screwing a guy half my age. It is really pleasurable, relaxing, and the secretness of it is part of the attraction as I feel I can walk away from my time with Judy without worrying about anybody judging me. Judy is also a very, very good friend, and the sex kind of validates the friendship and vice versa. I don't know, it's hard to explain. Not only can I let my hair down with her because our experiences are so similar, I can let my pants down and just fucking - no pun intended - unwind."

"It sounds fabulous."

"Fabulous and dangerous. This may be the 21st century, but not everyone is comfortable with same sex relationships. You'd think that people would have gotten over it and accepted it but it's still chancy in a lot of places. This is not that big a town that if word got out we wouldn't have problems. We both have kids in school and rumors could impact them: kids are animals, and if their parents take against us, some of their kids will come after ours. Not so much intentionally but as a reflection of their parents hostilities. Like race prejudice, or in our case, sexual orientation prejudice."

Graces pauses before continuing. "Not to mention that as recent widows we are expected to behave differently than real people, like some sort of emotional and spiritual eunuchs. I'm not a lesbian, but I am enjoying the female side of my sexuality and so is Judy. It's made me think about a lot of things, but ultimately, I'm a woman who wants a man. But dabbling on the side might not be out of the question - if the man was OK with it - and I think probably now that might be a question I would ask a man who wanted a relationship with me."

"That's asking a lot as far as I can tell. Do you expect to find such a guy?"

"I am in no rush. I think I am a valuable enough item that I can pick and choose. Mainly at this time I have to concentrate on the kids and put my own gratification a step lower. If I was Judy's age, she's 10 years older than me, I might be more concerned." She pauses and grins lasciviously. "In the mean time, if I get hard up I've got your phone number," and licks her lips.

He smiles: "Yeah, I'll just have to find a woman who can put up with you in our bed once in a while." They both giggle.

"I'm not going to burden or confuse you with the girl sex stuff, except to say that when I orgasm with Judy I make about the same noises as when you get me off. And I was pretty noisy last night, as was, I am pleased to say, Judy. With regard to our long and winding boozy discussions - we talked about our kids, our dead husbands, home cleaning products, car mechanics, where to get decent cheap red wine, good scotch, and ..." she hesitates "... where to get a good house painter."

"Oh? I thought we agreed not to discuss our thing without talking first to each other. That was the deal, wasn't it?" He flashes angry.

Grace comes right back: "You seem to have told Shirley all about it - and I don't even know who she is or if she's a gossip or anything about her! Even if she doesn't know me it's a small town and she might be motivated enough to try and figure it out. At least I know Judy and trust her." Now she's angry too.

"I didn't tell her your name or anything about you. She probably thinks you're just some out of town visitor who going to be gone in 2 weeks."

"You told me you said I was 38 and have a girlfriend. In this town it won't take long for someone to track that down if they want. I talked to Judy because I know her and I trust her. You barely know this Shirley."

"You're the one who told me to tell the truth - you even had a script that was a lot more explicit than I gave her. At least you have someone you can talk to about it: I wouldn't dare tell anything to anyone I know because it would just spread like a grass fire." He's resentful now too and slumps in his chair with his arms folded across his chest and glares at her.

"Is that what you're upset about?" She looks sympathetic, the edge off her anger. "We're both in a crazy place but I guess I can let some of it off on Judy."

"Maybe. I am having a hard time processing the last 4 days; I'm pretty twisted. Every day is another ride on the roller coaster. I can't really talk to you to get feedback or perspective 'cause you're strapped right there in the roller coaster with me. I go home at night and alternate between staring at the walls and staring at the ceiling. My parents probably think we're not getting along because it's hard for me to talk about my day and I just keep changing the subject when they ask." He's just staring ahead into space as he says this; now she's looking at him with sad eyes.

"Peter - I'm sorry. I know you're right that talking to me won't really let you get a second view like I can with Judy. I guess you can't even advertise about Shirley because Jack is a friend. But whenever you want to talk, I'm here - or email or phone."

"Thanks. I know I can trust you, and I do. As exciting as this all is I feel like I am on the outside, no one I can talk to about what's really on my mind. I found pot of gold, but I can't spend any of it. In a couple of weeks school will start and things will go back to normal and maybe it will be easier then." He's not sounding dismissive about his feelings but philosophically accepting a burden.

"I wish I could be more help."

He's pulled himself back together now. "Don't worry, Grace. This is a good problem to have." He smiles, gets up from his chair, and walks around the table and behind Grace's chair. He bends down and kisses her softly on the cheek then stands back up and massages her shoulders absentmindedly. "I'm OK Grace; I hope you are. Sorry I lost my temper; my mistake. I've got my energy back and the first coat should be dry so it's time to paint."

She stands and turns to him, wrapping her arms around him, kissing his lips gently and without hesitation. "Thank you." she says as she pulls away ever so slightly. "Maybe the paint isn't quite dry yet so we have some time. If you didn't mind, I could strip you naked, lead you to my bed, and have myself off with you - in a caring and sensitive way, of course."

"OK, but be gentle. I'm a fragile flower, you know, and after yesterday afternoon and last night I don't want to over-stress my schedule 40."

She grins, slides her hand down the front of his shorts, gives him a soft squeeze, and replies: "More like schedule 80, I think".