Grace Takes a Time Out Ch. 16

3rd Thursday

Morning light through the window curtain brings Peter out of sleep, through a doze, and to the edge of wakefulness. Noticing he is not in his own bed snaps him awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Not only is this not his bed, but also not his ceiling, not his window, not his room, and there is what appears to be a naked woman under the sheet next to him. 'Grace - that's right, I'm at Grace's' he thinks, relaxing from his second or two of anxiety, remembering the evening before when they had made a casual dinner, watched a baseball game on TV, had sex a couple of times when the game got dull, then went to bed and had sex again, and again until they finally faded away around 11. The bedside clock reads just after 7 now; he quietly, carefully, slides out of bed and walks down the hall to use the kids' bathroom.

When he returns Grace was no longer in the bed but he can hear noises from beyond the closed bathroom door so he settles back into the bed, under the sheet, and resumes staring at the ceiling and contemplating the vagaries of the last 3 weeks: his completely unexpected and mind-boggling affair with Grace, his encounters with Shirley, Judy, and Alicia. He has gone from bumbling inexperience to comfortable, even aggressive, lover. In 3 days their cruise, as Grace has started to refer to it, will end, her kids will be home, and Grace will go back to being suburban single mother while Peter will resume his role as JC student and yard-worker/babysitter. Whatever happens after Sunday, he thinks, life is on the upswing and it will be exciting!

The bathroom door opens and Grace comes into the bedroom wearing only a smile, but it's a radiant eager smile. He smiles back and watches her walk around the bed: as always he is dazzled by her - tall, slender but not too, round firm breasts, dark blonde hair, sparkling smiling eyes, sensual lips, and smooth clear lightly tanned skin. She walks around to his side of the bed; she reaches down without a word and throws off the sheet leaving him exposed and naked. She puts one puts one knee on the bed beside him then swings the other leg over and settles down straddling him below the waist, and swivels or grinds her hips to settle herself comfortably; still no words, still the eager smile, and she leans down pausing only briefly when her nipples touch his chest to lean left then right so he can feel her hard nipples drag on his skin, then she almost falls the rest of the way making firm lip-to-lip contact with him. Her tongue lances into his mouth and she sucks on his lips as if to draw his insides out into herself.

He can feel that his erection, which started filling the moment she opened the bathroom door is now almost complete; he puts his arms around her shoulders and pulls her up to him so her hips rise a few inches off his, and he returns her hard, sucking, tonguing kiss. He flexes his erection up against her and without breaking the kiss she reaches down between her legs to guide his erection into her, and pushes her hips down on and around it.

30 seconds, tops, since she opened the bathroom door. "Oooohh," she moans softly, breaking the kiss. "I like a man who knows what I want and when I want it." She sits up almost straight, her hands on his strong chest, massaging it, but not so straight that he can't reach up and massage her tits and nipples. They establish a slow rhythm, silently smiling and looking into each other's eyes, hands wandering as far and near as they can reach. After a few minutes of this he stops at the top of a thrust, catching her off guard, and rolls her over so now he's up and she's down. She giggles, he smiles as he looks down on her, leans down for a slow, wet kiss, and then picks up the pace. A couple of more minutes and he can feel he's approaching the edge so he pulls out, slides down her body licking and sucking here and there on her torso as he goes, until his head is to her lower lips: he starts to lick, reaching in, and sucking, moving his head, tongue, and lips around her clit. She can take it for about a minute, her moans getting louder and louder until she pushes her hips up against his face, squeezes his neck with her thighs, and lets out a loud, guttural moan. And another.

Then she relaxes, softening back into the bed, her legs still over his shoulders and her arms out at her sides, her rapid breathing starting to slow and deepen. He backs away, sitting up and back on his heels, still between her legs and looks up into her face, her eyes closed in the afterglow. For a few moments, maybe 30 seconds, he watches her, then, once again catching her by surprise, he reaches over with both hands to one side of her hips and rolls her over on to her stomach. A quick adjustment so he's again between her legs; there is a surprised "Hey! What're you doing?" from her, but he has already gripped her hips with his hands and starts to pull them up towards him - he rises slightly on his knees as he pulls her and drives his still erect penis between her legs, finding her vaginal entrance by luck or skill. Now she's completely aware of his intentions and pushes back against him to drive him deeper. He keeps hold of her hips and starts to thrust hard and fast - he knows he won't be able to keep this up for long. She gives as good as she gets and in a remarkably short time she comes again with a loud moan and clenching of his erection. He comes hard, pulls her hips tight into his, grunts loudly, and is still, concentrating on the sensations of ejaculation. They're done.

*

An hour later they've dozed a bit more, gotten dressed mostly, and are in the kitchen. He's wearing the infamous burger t-shirt and tattered cut-offs, she's got her regular XXL happy face nightie/t-shirt that comes to mid-thigh and maybe underwear (or not). She's scrambling eggs and mixing in some chopped vegies, he's between toast and hot water for tea or coffee. Once it's all ready they sit down to eat, but actually they sit there for a minute or so just looking at each other across the table. "Good morning, handsome." she says quietly, looks down, and starts to pick at her food. "That is going to be hard to top, not that I keep score. But" she looks up at him again "thank you." She smiles at him, a relaxed, pleasant, smile through which he feels he can see her to the core of her person.

It surprises him that he has this feeling of insight; he smiles back. "You are welcome," he replies with the emphasis on 'are'. "And thank you, too. It felt really good, the whole time, without boundaries or barriers. Natural, almost effortless, if you can believe that." He looks down and starts on his breakfast and they are both silent for a few minutes.

Once they're done Grace becomes businesslike and starts the day: "How about this: you work in the garage until noon or so and I can drive you home to get your van?"

"Ok with me; lots to do."

"About dinner tomorrow night with Judy: how are your cooking and kitchen skills? I'd like us to share that."

"I can chop, slice, grill, and take orders. If I was alone I wouldn't starve, but it's not a strong skill for me."

"Grilling is good - your dad is really good at it so maybe you know more than you think. After widow support group this evening I'll come over to your house and you can cook me dinner. Say 8:00?" she smiles and looks at him expectantly.

"OK." He replies uncertainly; he hadn't ever thought of her in his space.

"Problem? Didn't you ever fantasize about a hot woman showing up in your bedroom? Isn't that every manly young man's dream? Maybe even about me?" He nods, agreeing that might be true and smiling. "I can make it happen: I don't want the cruise to end with any of your fantasies unresolved." Now she is a bit sardonic, but still the expectant smile.

*

By noon there is a growing pile of soon-to-be-cast-off items in the driveway; Peter is drenched with sweat because it's a hot day. There is a discussion of how to get rid of all the crap and he suggests he has divided it into Goodwill recyclable and trash - a few trips in his van should get most of it taken care of. They forage for a quick lunch after which she drives him home in her family 4-door, the Miata being kept safe back in the garage. She suggests he bring some general purpose spare clothes to keep at her house.

*

After lunch Peter returns and is back at it sorting through the garage. Keepers, recyclables, trash, he is following Grace's instructions to separate all the stuff. Among the boxes he finds a large one marked 'Grace party clothes' which he peeks into then sets aside for her to investigate: when she does, an hour or two later, she is moderately curious, excited, and pensive. "Haven't looked in this box for a while." she tells Peter. "I think this goes back to when Joe and I were first together, maybe even before. My pre-marital wardrobe." she describes it with a smirk. "I had my wild-and-crazy phase, if you can believe that." He rolls his eyes as if to say 'was there ever a not wild-and-crazy Grace?'. She opens the box and paws through it to see what is there. "Whatever. I was hot way back then. God, I remember some of these: wonder if I still fit? Wanna see?" Peter is both interested and amused at the thought of Grace in the high and far off times so he expresses interest. "I'll call you if there's anything interesting." She gives him a look that is all wink, no subtlety, and goes back into the house.

A while later the garage door to the house opens and Grace calls to Peter: "Come take a look. This one may be a keeper." He obligingly breaks off what he is doing and goes into the family room; she is there in a tight black cocktail dress, low on top and high on the bottom, displaying her curves to a very positive effect. "What do you think? Does it still fit or am I fantasizing?"

He walks around her and inspects carefully. After 15 years and two kids it's a little tight but her major features (in his opinion) shine through: wonderful tits on display, curvy waist and hips, round ass he just wants to run his hands over, and terrifically shaped thighs he would love to be between - all there. He tells himself she looks fabulous, but he knows he has to say the right thing: "You look amazing! I am dazzled. It fits wonderfully. Can I take you out sometime? I'd be proud to."

"Thanks, I needed that, you flatterer and seducer. You'll say anything to get into my pants, not that I object or have any on." She shows him her bedroom eyes, then twirls around like a six year old ballerina entranced by her tutu. She wraps her arms around his neck, then draws him close for an intimate kiss. He embraces her and runs his hands down her back and over her ass. They kiss again with more emotion, and she pulls back away from him.

"Peel this thing off," she says running her hands over the dress "and just do me!" She looks him with intensity and reaches to pull the shirt off him. The sofa is a few feet behind her; it is a buttoned faux leather Chesterfield style that has a wide level back about 5 feet long. Peter sees it and when she finishes pulling his shirt off he pushes his shorts down far enough to free them; he slides his hands to her hem and lifts the flimsy dress over her head and off - there are no undergarments. She reacts by wrapping her arms around his neck. He picks her up and she wraps her legs around his thighs; with a slight boost and a couple of steps he is at the sofa and leans her down along the length of the sofa back.

It takes a little care to keep her balanced, but he manages by lifting her legs along side his chest as he makes one more step forward between them; without waiting for her he uses one hand to guide himself into her. She opens her eyes wide, then grins looking directly at him; he starts thrusting into her as he continues to keep her balanced on the sofa back. She is bumping back and forth from his thrusts and withdrawls, her tits jiggling in circles on her horizontal chest, and using one hand and arm to reach down to the sofa seat cushion to keep her balance; her legs are wrapped around Peter's ribs, heels pounding on his back as he thrusts. After a minute or more of this he can feel himself coming and he looks at her, grinning with lust, his eyes telling her 'here it comes!'; she responds with a contraction, clenching down on his erection and that sets them both off.

*

Later on she comments: "Never thought of that for this sofa; maybe I'll keep it." Peter simply adds this to his long list of wild and crazy events in the last three weeks - to be thought about later. He gets a couple more hours of garage sorting and cleaning accomplished. They leave later on at the same time, she in the Miata, which has now begun to get some use again, and he heading home in his van.

After a shopping stop for dinner ingredients he arrives home and is parked in the driveway, unloading his shopping, when a voice behind him pipes up: "Peter! How's it going? End of the long work day?" There's an ever so slightly mocking tone in Marcy's voice and he turns to see her and Angelica watching him. Angelica is the next door neighbor, older sister of his best friend Bob; Marcy is her close friend.

"Hi there," he replies with some caution in his tone, "Ange, Marcy - what are you two up to?"

"Just some fresh air before a hard night at the movies." Ange says, looking him over. "Marcy tells me your social life is picking up. I might just take you up on that offer you made at the party." She smiles; it's well meaning but at the same time there's a question. Peter blushes ever so slightly, but Marcy speaks first:

"You gotta take a number, Ange. Shirley and Alicia have him scheduled and booked all next week." And she gives Peter a wicked grin.

"That's news to me." Peter responds in surprise after a pause. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Yesterday, at the mall. I was lucky I happened to be there so I could get a couple of the open spots, even if one of them was a mid-day." She turns back to Angelica: "There was still a mid-day when I saw the schedule - I think it was next Friday. Want me to call Shirley and put you in if it's still open?" She is being facetious, even sarcastic, and it's directed at Peter.

"Wait a minute - I don't know anything about this! Who thinks they're running my life?" He seems more perplexed than upset.

Marcy replies: "Shirley. Any idea what being up against Shirley might be like?" A suggestive tone of voice. "I'm sure she'll call; she seems more concerned about Alicia than for herself, for what that's worth."

Angelica has been looking at Peter and his grocery bags. "Who are you cooking for tonight? Doesn't look to me like lonely college guy stuff." Peter's expression is perplexed, then worried. "Don't worry, Peter, we're leaving in a bit so we won't be coming over to share. There's enough there for two?"

"I'm expecting a guest, that's all. No extras, sorry." He's not sorry, trying nervously to brush them off. "And I have a lot of work to do first."

"Let's see," says Marcy "I know Alicia and her Mom are out somewhere tonight, and I think Shirley has a date, oh, and I'm out with Ange." She looks at Angelica: "Who could it be? It's a mystery." She's really laying it on; Angelica looks appropriately perplexed.

"I promised a friend I'd help with her dinner tomorrow - I have to practice." He sounds desperate, then an idea strikes him: "But after dinner tomorrow I'm free." He says directly to Marcy. "Pick you up at 8:00?"

She is taken aback. "OK." She's almost tentative. "What's on your mind?"

"I don't know. Coffee? A movie? Just talk?"

"Freddy's having a big party - I was going with Ange and Bob, but you can take me instead." Marcy throws him a big, enthusiastic smile and he nods 'yes'; she turns to Angelica: "Sorry. You're on your own tomorrow." Then back to Peter: "I'll text my address - we moved last year. See you at 8:00." She smiles broadly, then she and Angelica give their good-byes.

Peter, a bit flustered as he picks up his bags to go into the house, has one last interruption - Marcy is running back, comes up close to him and half whispers: "Say 'Hi' to Grace for me." gives him a quick, smiling kiss on the cheek, and runs back towards Angelica's house before he can react.

*

Grace arrives at 8:00; she had dressed for her support group in business casual - tailored trousers, and a long sleeve top. After his encounter with Marcy and Angelica, Peter is sufficiently paranoid that he has Grace park in the empty space in the garage rather than leave the Miata out for neighbors to see. But he has a salad made, some fresh bread warming, and the grill ready for his marinated chicken. She brought a bottle of wine so they have a glass and chat while he cooks the chicken. Once it's ready they slice the bread, give the salad a final toss and sit down for dinner, and have a relaxed and friendly meal. She is very complimentary of the meal and comments that women like men who can do their share of the cooking - and not just with a microwave. While she is cleaning up the dishes he cleans the grill: his father's pride and joy so it needs to be in perfect condition when he returns. When it's all done they're standing in the kitchen and she says:

"Now, Mr. Whopperman, I want the tour." He looks at her in confusion. "Where I'm sleeping tonight; where's the bathroom? You can't expect me to be able to drive home after a couple of glasses of wine." Her question is at once direct, practical, and by the look in her eyes, lewdly insinuating. He shows her around the house - kitchen, living room, family room - but she doesn't really get interested until they go upstairs and he shows her the bathroom he shares with Linda, then his own bedroom. 12 by 14, single bed, dresser, bookshelves, posters, stereo, computer and desk - all crowded in and cluttered, but not too messy. She remarks: "Always wanted to see one of these. The abode of the young male." She grins and asks, facetiously: "Do you want a pin-up of me for your wall? An 8 x 10? 11 x 14? Life size?" but all the time she's looking around with genuine interest and curiosity. He's ill at ease, watching her not snooping but definitely examining everything as closely as she can without turning things over. "Relax, Peter. You've been in my bedroom more than once so fair's fair."

"You're right as usual - a mile ahead of me." He agrees, then smiles at a thought and asks in a formal tone: "Did you bring a suitcase, Mrs. Robinson?"

She smiles as she reaches into a trouser pocket and pulls out a toothbrush: "I thought this would be enough." she says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. He laughs and suggests he would be happy to remove and hang or fold all of her clothes (down to the flesh) neatly so she could wear them again in the morning. "Actually," she says "I have a bag in the car with my jammies and girl stuff. You brush while I get it. Then I'll tuck you in so you feel totally tucked." She grins in a friendly and inviting way, turns, and leaves the room.

Peter brushes and prepares for bed - almost as normal: when he takes off his clothes he puts them in the closet instead of tossing them on the floor. He had actually spent time cleaning the room up before dinner although he suspects that to Grace it still looked a mess. He turns on the bedside lamp to low, closes the door to just a crack, turns off the room light, gets into bed sitting up against the wall, and waits, listening to the running water sound in the bathroom across the hall, and generally feeling like this is a really strange situation but he's more than up for it anyway. He remembers some of his Grace fantasies of the last 5 years, and smiles to himself as he sits in bed waiting.

He hears the bathroom door open across the hall and a few seconds later his door opens enough for Grace to look around it and see him in bed; she pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps in, silhouetted by the hall light. Peter is transfixed. She's wearing a low cut spaghetti-strap nightie that extends down to barely cover her ass; with the hall light behind her it is translucent, almost transparent, and her body is hazily outlined under it. She turns in the doorway, quickly enough to flare the nightie out and he takes in every detail of her figure as it turns and the light outlines it: long legs with shapely thighs, waist, flat stomach and rounded ass, full breasts with erect nipples. She steps forward and asks as she closes the door: "Got room for me in there, sailor?"