Her Mom & I Share a Birthday Pt. 01

The adrenaline tap opened wide. Take the plunge. Green light on - - step out the door, brace for the jerk, check risers and chute open.

"Well, you know exactly who I am and what I am. I took the job at first for the thrill of doing something way-way out of character. And the money is very good. But truth be known, from our first meeting, I wanted to have a chance to get to know you. And maybe, sometimes maybe, a nice guy gets a chance. So yeah, I'm for real. I'm probably the most guileless person you've ever met. And as for baggage, what baggage I have wouldn't fill a coin purse. Speaking of which, you still owe me $200.00.

"Damn, guys and their dick size---it's always about size," she laughed really hard--a tension release it seemed.

She got quiet again. A very deep breath and then, "Does Dad have a rule about not fucking his daughter on company property?"

She pulled her sweater over her head

Oh God. Quick - - don't pass out. Count from ten. 10-9-8-7-6-----

"So do you want to kiss some first? Drag it out a little bit. Remember the scene in Deadpool where he figured he only had enough money left after Skee-Ball for a couple of minutes with Vanessa?"

"Yeah," she said. "Classic love story. Kissing is a good way to start. That's why I made you take a hit, silly."

I was quiet for a moment.

"Well?" she said.

I got up and opened the door for her. As she passed, I had to say, "Seriously though, you know what I have to work with."

"Yep," she said. "There's no problem that can't be solved with money or technology. I brought some stuff. Let's get comfortable."

Pulled my shirt off and then dropped trou, revealing the thigh highs and the burgundy panties.

"Oh hell," she doubled over laughing. "You were wearing those at brunch?'

"Well, yeah, I dressed up----so what. It's my birthday. Carolina won its game yesterday. I was feeling very much alive. And I wasn't expecting visitors, much less you. Besides, you only have yourself to blame. Corrupting me for your filthy lucre."

Now she was gasping. "Oh Lord, if Mom only knew. And Dad, oh God. He'd put you in a 55-gallon drum and ship you to the Arctic Circle."

She was down to her chemise and panties now. "Leave them on, keep the mystery going for a while," I said.

"You too," she replied. She then pulled cuffs, some lube and two dildo-vibrators out of her bag

"Oh my goodness," I said. "Not your typical first date."

She took a serious tone. "Look Charles, we didn't start out walking home from school together or sharing fries at the drive-in or you getting me pregnant in the back seat. And as much as it pains me to admit, I really did want you to walk me to the car or go get dinner. You stirred up something in me also in our first meeting. But now you know why the cold shoulder. Protect both you and me, and yeah sweetie, to be totally honest we were--are---making good money off you. So, if this goes anywhere, we sure as hell won't be telling the kids or friends how we met other than a vague reference to work."

I nodded. "Well, since you're my boss and you still owe me that performance bonus from the interview, do we have a sexual harassment problem here. I mean, you trying to get out of paying me the $200."

Was I bantering due to performance anxiety? I relieve myself every now and then of course, but since June it's always been thinking of her. It wasn't holding hands and cuddling; it was straight out passion. How was I going to keep from erupting the first time we kiss.

"Hey---hey, Screw HR and don't worry about the debt. As long as I don't pay it, we'll have something that keeps us together."

'Damn', I thought. 'She's frisky. Back to earth, she's talking.'

"BUT, two rules," she held up two fingers. "Don't tell me you love me until YOU know YOU mean it." She dropped a finger, leaving The Finger up, "And don't ever call me Missy." She still had her Halloween manicure, all black with spider webs. Intimidating.

"Agreed," I said.

"OK. Come here." She opened her arms.

Kissing went rather well; she was very, very soft, and I held it together--focusing on her and going slow. As long as I did not drool and start mashing her lips like a teenager, I figured I could meet her standards. At what I thought was an appropriate moment I brushed her lips with my tongue and a few seconds later was invited in. Again all the time yelling 'go slow, focus on her, relax, don't rush it, mind your hands, whisper something nice but not corny to her, and for sure she knows better but for gods' sake act like you've been here before.

After a while I moved south, stopping briefly at her breasts, leaving the chemise on, I lightly teased them. This got a moan or two--Yippee!. Her hands on my shoulder encouraged me to go further south, so I removed her panties. She was very neat. Her hair had been lasered into the shape of a domino.

"Oh my," I breathed. "You're very... uhhh.... Neat and tidy."

"Like you, I'm indeed very neat and tidy. Goes with the profession. But let's stop enjoying the view and get to it please," she squirmed.

I had heard somewhere that if you gently trace out the alphabet with your tongue, thus paying close attention to the clitoris, you will be greatly appreciated. I got to the letter K on the second lap when she screamed and locked down on my head. I saw stars before tapping out for air. A bourbon break intermingled with more kissing. I got between her legs and leaned forward. She got a bit of lube and began stroking me. I reciprocated with two fingers and a thumb. She was still very moist. She was going slowly with me. I'm sure I strained several portions of plumbing as I held off until she released a second time, shuddering in waves. When she calmed down, it took three strokes for my little fellow to let loose.

"Always the gentleman, aren't you?'

"Try to; usually succeed; by the way what are the cuffs for?" I asked.

"In case you turned out to be an absolute cad, I'd stage an auto-erotic asphyxiation induced suicide," she purred.

"Nice. Do you have an hourglass tattooed to your abdomen?" I asked, lifting the chemise.

"Not yet."

"In that case, would you stay a while?"

"That was one of the plans."

I settled back on my knees; she was on her back with her knees up, one hand corralling my deposit just above her pubic bone, keeping it out of the patch.

Looking down, she giggled, "Oh look, more than a mouthful. I hate to waste it, but it's much better served warm."

I stammered, "Uhhhhhhh."

She giggled some more, "Oh yeah, this is your first post-coital intimate moment, isn't it. You're no longer in virgin territory, mister. So how does it feel?"

"Relieved?" I said, grinning.

She snorted, "Well it's been over 1,200 days for me, let's just stumble through this together."

"So you're back up on the horse?"

Again grinning even wider, "I wouldn't use you and horse in the same sentence."

"Damn," I said. "Yeah-------damn---------I got nothing."

"Good, go start my shower before this stuff turns to jelly, and get me a shirt. You have anything to snack on?" And then catching herself, "No, stop, don't, don't you dare."

I obliged. It would have been too easy.

I started the shower, hung up a towel and then got her one of my many 10K race t-shirts. Those things accumulate like dust bunnies and never wear out.

I rinsed at the sink, grabbed a t-shirt and my pj bottoms and went to the kitchen. Fortunately, I had fruit, cheese and crackers on hand. I eat light at night.

She came out still toweling her hair. I had started the gas logs and put a plate out.

"Any wine?" she asked.

"Sorry, I'll have a glass now and then but something about a single guy consuming a whole bottle at one sitting by himself seems sad."

"Water's good. I drank too much bourbon earlier, anyway. And yeah a bottle of wine makes more sense when it's a couple," she mused.

The invitation was not lost. "Send me some suggestions." I asked

She gave a thumb's up and with that we were quiet for a while. I was hungry actually--long time since lunch plus stress and a whole bunch of adrenaline. She seemed to be in the same plight. A roller-coaster day.

"So little boy," she said. "Did you have a nice birthday? "Did you get what you wanted?'

"Well," I said. "I had a good ride, a really good brunch, met my part-time employer's parents, a quiet afternoon reflecting on the day, and then my birthday wish came true. How was your day, Boss?"

A very charming smile with bright warm eyes for a moment, and then she spoke, "Well, a morning of work, then meeting Mom and Dad for her birthday lunch, a brief encounter with my independent contractor who politely introduced himself to my parents, Mom getting a surprise birthday gift from said contractor, and then I suppose I granted a little boy's long-standing birthday wish."

We just looked at each other quietly for a while.

Thinking back on the day, it dawned on me I should be falling over from exhaustion -- the ride, the lunch, the confrontation, the revelation, the making love. I was starting to sink, and I stifled a yawn.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm about to turn into a puddle too." She collected the plates and headed to the kitchen. I secured the doors and then helped put things away.

She turned to me, put her arms around my neck as did I hers. A thirty second or so kiss later, she pulled back and tugged on my shirt, leading me to the bedroom.

As we settled in, I said, "OK, be patient please 'cause I'm learning on the job. How do you like to be held?"

She giggled, "Like this, sweetie." She rolled on her side and pushed her back and bottom up against me. Pulling my arm over her tummy, she said, "Hold me for a while like this and then we'll move around to where we usually end up in a little bit."

She was quiet a moment and then said, "Victor told me about the saying your Grandmother had in her kitchen----about kissing and cooking. I don't cook very well."

I hmphed, "You certainly do indeed kiss very well. I can cook though; so don't worry about that part.

"You kiss pretty good too mister; so yeah, it could work."

I kissed her neck and resolved not to let go of her for as long as I could.

THE MORNING AFTER THE SECOND BILL

Monday morning - 0600. She was still here. Wow!!! I walked on eggshells, not quite knowing how to behave or what to say, looking for clues. We cuddled a bit and then she was up and dressing. A hug, a quick kiss, another hug with her head on my chest for a moment, and then, "We'll talk later and figure this out; it's all good---really; I'd forgotten how good it can be." I shivered.

And then, "Oh yeah, buy some better TP; whatever Daddy stocks this place with is like construction paper."

"Will do," I said thinking 'Cool my first task as a couple. Gee.'

I tried to focus on each step of getting ready and driving safely. I succeeded mostly, only ran one light. It was hard to be a grown-up. For the first time ever, I knew what emotional, caring, passionate sex was. Not a real stretch since before her it had always been solo and lonely. And I knew I was experiencing first time emotions, which were extreme of course.

Monday morning - 0755. There's a note on my desk to see Mr. Jordan at 0900.

Not as good as a note from Mrs. Jordan; not as bad as a pink slip.

Monday morning - 0855. I present to his office for the appointment.

Monday morning - 0910. His secretary tells me to go in. Power play I wonder. Or maybe not as he is hanging up the phone.

"Charles, good to see you again," he says with what I hope is a wry grin.

"Good morning, Sir," I reply. I remain standing in front of the desk.

"From my Wife," he says as he tosses an envelope on the desk.

"Thank you, Sir," I retrieve it.

A very pregnant pause follows.

"Is that all Sir?" I ask.

He clears his throat. "Sergeant--- I don't know whether to applaud you for a class move or chew your ass for a really ballsy one. Would you have sent your wing commander's wife champagne?"

I square up to the max, "No Sir, not as a general rule. But to be honest Sir, my last one was not from the same mold as most airlifter types -- fighter pilot, had two MiGs. He would have applauded it. But then again, as an E-6, I could not have afforded it."

"So?" he asked.

"Spur of the moment Sir; otherwise, no excuse Sir. I did not mean to presume, Sir."

"Look son, I know your record. Went to airborne school to be a better loadmaster; made stan-eval in three years. That's not the resume of someone who takes casual risks," he observed.

"I know Sir, flying safety is paramount and will not be compromised for any reason," I rejoined.

"To state the obvious, we're in the risk assessment business, not risk taking. We think things through carefully," he lectured. This was a frequent theme of his Wednesday talks. When you are hauling other people's stuff, you have to be smart.

"On the other hand, maybe you weren't reckless. My Wife has been around the corporate game long enough to know a newbie would not pull such a stunt in front of the SVP. Newbies are too worried about their future. She thinks you did it to impress Charlotte," he said.

"Charlotte, Sir?"

"Don't pay dumb Sergeant. There was some sort of look between you."

"Probably my embarrassment and her confusion on my intruding on your private time, Sir. The champagne was a spontaneous act given it was a shared birthday."

"Spontaneously calculated to hit on my wife in my presence? Or influence my decision on where to send you next?"

"Well, all are fair points, Sir. If you will permit me, your Daughter is as stunning as your Wife. (oh crap--that was beyond really dumb--finesse this.) Both are clearly deserving of champagne on any occasion. As for the next assignment, if you truly thought I was being disingenuous or attempting to influence my next assignment, then my risk assessment skills are certainly suspect and I would expect an assignment to Thule to count rocks for the next four years. Instead, it was purely a spur of the moment decision. A surprise to add a little spice to the birthday party."

"Did you rehearse that this morning? If you were a green 20 something, I'd suspect an ulterior motive. But you know better. Anyway, we don't have a facility in Thule. We do in Minot, though. Nice place, actually."

I shrugged.

"So my Wife wants to invite you for Thanksgiving---you know, holiday season, single guy."

"That's most generous but my Mother has only herself, and I was overseas a lot, and then grad school was 16-7. Please convey my regrets."

He nodded and looked relieved. Again, a little intelligence goes a long way.

MONDAY NIGHT AFTER THE SECOND BILL

A quick text requesting a meet. Charlotte said she could be there at 9'ish--complicated audit under way.

We shared notes over some bourbon and decided it was just the parent-gene that was making them see things. She also let me know her Dad had been in the Air Force after college. Did four years in Supply.

Ah ha - he had my number from day one.

We finished our drink, and she stood up as if to leave, but then she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it.

"Indulge me, I need to get rid of this stress." She held out her hand. "Come do me. Don't talk; just warm me up and keep warming until I cum. I really, really need a release," she ordered. "I'll take of you afterwards."

She had put the toys in the nightstand. I started to say something, but she just shushed me as she lay down. "Show me what you have learned," she instructed.

Focused massage by stroking all over first, then gently apply the lube, then a teasing, slow penetration with fingers first, then introduce the vibrator, followed by a steady increase in pace with light clitoral pressure, a few words of encouragement, and boom, she lets go. As with last night, I held her as close as I could as she vibrated, caressing her softly. In moments, she drifted off. I just held her, absorbing every moment, listening to her breath. She came to 20 minutes or so later, stretching and twisting. Then she realized she had dozed off.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry. Here, move over," as she reached for me.

I held her hand. "No need; all is good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, look. This is all uncharted territory for me. I never had a girl-girl friend. I had friends who were girls, but last night was the first time I was ever intimate in any way with a girl -- a woman -- not just any woman--- a woman I wanted to get to know from the very first time I saw her. So I'm stumbling through a mine field; being cautious.

She sniffled slightly, "You're an open book, but you barely know me."

"There's plenty of time," I said as I got on my knees and straddled her.

"I'm not going to do a Deadpool and pull a ring pop from nowhere, but I really like you. I wasn't asking you out all those times just to get in your pants. You had that je ne sais quoi, but thanks to that one extremely critical fact you hid from me, I could not get out of the locker room, much less to first base.

"Really? French and Baseball?" she interrupted.

"Hush. Look, I've been single a long, long time, and I had pretty much accepted that's how it would be. But thinking of you on the long rides and runs, led to thoughts of 'what if.' Which until the Brunch stunt were just that---thoughts of what might be if only I could figure out your reticence---which became crystal clear Sunday. So I took the chance it might move the needle, notwithstanding having to deny it later to your Dad."

"I'll say," she agreed.

"I'd do it again, you know."

She sighed, "It was a legendary move."

"We brushed up against this last night. I say let's see where this goes. Your Dad's going to move me in January, so between now and then, I want to make as much money as I can off the show and be your steady boyfriend. But in reverse order. It's corny I know, but if we're meant to be, then we'll find a way."

She snorted, "That's not much of a proposal, what's in it for me?'

"Play your cards right and that could come later," I laughed.

She kneed me in the nuts.

WE MAKE UP FOR LOST TIME

Ray Wylie Hubbard once described a new love this way: "We was enriched uranium, super critical mass, we was a chain reaction, it was love and lust, but mostly a mutual attraction."

We explored each other as lovers and as friends. She was experienced, kind, gracious and understanding. I almost gave myself a hernia trying to be casual and relaxed. After two weeks we turned the temperature down to a comfortable simmer. We had day jobs plus a part time commitment, so being an adult had to take precedence.

We were both 30. We were both professionals in somewhat similar fields. We were both task and detail oriented. I was not her first by a long shot; I had no clue whatsoever on how to be in a relationship, nor did I have a role model growing up. She had been a cheerleader, president of her sorority, and had her own CPA business. I enlisted out of high school. She had her KKG sorority tattooed on her lower back; I swore to Mom I would never get one. She liked Taylor Swift; I'm in to James McMurtry and Chris Knight. She could make her Peloton beg for mercy; I liked to feel the wind and weather. She used the smoke alarm as an oven timer; I could cook pretty much anything in the Better Homes and Garden cook book. A dating app would never match us, but apps don't account for reality.

So we did our homework together, cuddled, made out, satisfied each other, made out some more, stayed at restaurants until they closed, and talked and talked and talked.

Tying up loose ends, we decided to prank Vincent. She felt bad about putting him in the middle. So the next Wednesday, as we were finishing up, I wished her a goodnight. She threw up her hands, spun on her heels and stormed over. About a foot way with her hands on her hips, she let loose with a tirade about my pussy-footing around and so forth and if I wanted to get in her pants I needed to man up and take the first step. So I said "OK" and took a step towards her. "How's this? I asked. "It's a start," she said as she leapt up and wrapped her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck. "Your move," she said as we locked lips for 20 seconds. Victor dropped his coffee cup. Upstairs over a drink, we told him what happened. His immediate response: "Finally! Thank Goodness! The sexual tension and energy between you two has been knee deep since day one." And then, 'What about----you know who?"