Interlude Supreme

Of all the many tales that came out of Oakshire over the years, the one that involved a college lacrosse player and his sexy older neighbor, is arguably the most compelling.

Oakshire was a sub-division in the pre-World War Two development of upper-middleclass Oakridge. The Ridge, as some had called it early on, was on the urban fringes of Baltimore. In square footage, the houses paled beside the suburban McMansions that sprang up years later. Still, they were substantial for the times, three to four bedroom, two-bath abodes that sat on lawns big enough for games like badminton, with enough space left over for additions that residents began to add on when Eisenhower was president.

It was Richard Nixon, Eisenhower's VP, that was president when Jerry Blake, the lacrosse player, and Mary Kay Dresner, his next-door neighbor, had a frank discussion in Mary Kay's house one hot spring, Saturday afternoon. Albert, Mary Kay's hubby, and Kenneth, their seven-year-old son, were at Kenneth's spring league soccer game. Mary Kay had just returned home from shopping when she spotted a shorts-wearing, shirtless Jerry, lacrosse stick in hand, shooting balls against a stone wall that divided the two houses. "You look like you could go for a cold drink," she said.

Jerry bobbled the ball in the net of his lacrosse stick, looked up and said, "Right on."

In fact, Jerry had been thinking of heading into his own house before Mary Kay's offer. But why do that when a hot, sexy older woman had just offered him the same thing? Jerry had had his dark brown eyes on Mary Kay Dresner soon after the hormones of early puberty began to roar. He wasn't normally attracted to strawberry blonds; Mary Kay was one of those rare exceptions. She wasn't all freckled as some with that pigment tended to be. In fact, she was an older cutie with a face that had a glowing sheen to it and a smile that brought out her fine cheek bones. She looked great in what she wore, a short white and yellow print sun dress and platform shoes. There were women pushing forty that shouldn't wear dresses that short, but Mary Kay wasn't one of them. So yeah, he could go for a glass of iced tea or whatever his thoughtful neighbor might serve.

The attraction Jerry developed for Mary Kay went two-ways. She had watched him grow from a cute young teen into a hunk of a young man, athletic and handsome, the kind of guy, regardless of age, that she knew could seduce her in minutes if she let him. She found those dark, penetrating eyes of his and that mane of wavy, dark brown hair, worn parted nearly in the middle and down to his earlobes, irresistibly sexy. His legs, muscular and hairy, his broad shoulders, and well-defined chest and ab muscles, didn't hurt either. He was the proverbial boy next door, although in Mary Kay's mind, there was nothing proverbial about him.

Jerry grabbed his T-shirt, slid it over his five-foot-ten-inch frame, and then followed Mary Kay into her house. "Ah, that feels so good," he said, referring to the cool air blowing through the living room from the big AC window unit.

"I imagine it does," she said, "as hot as you looked playing outside."

He nodded, thinking it was Mary Kay who looked hot, and he didn't mean her temperature. He followed her into the kitchen, took a seat on one of the four wood chairs around her white Linoleum table and watched her bend over to retrieve a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge, barely able to control himself from saying what he would say had he been less mannered. Perhaps she knew, he thought, for she was standing in front of him, pitcher in hand, grinning as if she knew what salacious thoughts lurked inside him.

In fact, she did know, or at least had an idea, one reinforced through years of being gawked at and hit on. Albert, eleven years her senior, was one of those who did. She married him shortly after college. She had never been unfaithful and didn't intend to start now, though she adored the attention and had to admit that she got aroused at the prospect of seducing this young buck sitting in her kitchen. She was in a marriage that had become ho-hum to the point of borrr-ing. She had no immediate plans to leave the marriage, though the idea was never far from her thoughts. Albert provided a good living--he was senior partner in an accounting firm. She loved him, though she couldn't remember ever being "in love" with him. They still had sex. Not often and only when he wanted to and that was okay with her because he never did much for her in the bedroom anyway. In other words, she was looking for or at least fantasizing about the sort of excitement that she knew could get her into trouble, that could possibly destroy her marriage.

Jerry didn't know how Mary Kay felt about her marriage. But he did get the sense that she was interested in him on some level, asking him about college, his lacrosse and even his dating status. He didn't have a steady girlfriend but thought that if Mary Kay wasn't married, age difference be dammed, he could go for a woman who looked like Mary Kay, with her big, blue eyes, cute smile and adorable hairdo, set with bangs that stretched just above her eyebrows and curled in back just shy of her shoulders. Cute wasn't a word he normally ascribed to women Mary Kay's age, except that's how he saw her, despite the few lines that were beginning to crinkle around her eyes. And that derriere of hers, so curvaceously cute that no guy, including himself, could resist gawking when she swished by.

Her smile brought out those age lines, smiling as she was doing right now, while he talked about himself. "I didn't know you were that interested in lacrosse," he said.

"Well, I'm interested in YOU," she revealed. "I've kind of watched you grow up. And here you are in college. Time flies. That really hits home when, like me, you approach middle-age. You'll see."

He took her word for it. But reaching middle-age couldn't have been further from his mind. It all seemed so abstract, so in the future. His focus was on his sexy neighbor, with her legs crossed, her dress riding three-quarters up her tan thighs, her low-cut top exposing lots of cleavage, giving him a welcome that he sensed--or at least hoped--had more to do than just being served a cold drink. Jerry wasn't naïve when it came to sex--he'd had a couple long-term relationships and a few quick affairs. But they were with single girls around his age, not married women pushing forty. If Mary Kay wanted to engage in something beyond superficial conversation, he wouldn't, as the cliché went, kick her out of bed.

But would she? Putting a "feeler" out, he said, "Not to get too personal, Mrs. Dresner, but you look great for a woman nearing middle-age. Any age, really."

She patted his knee. "Thanks, I appreciate that. And, if you don't feel uncomfortable, call me Mary Kay."

He nodded. "That's cool. I'd like that." He wondered when Albert Dresner and Kenneth would return home. He pictured them coming in and catching himself and her in the bedroom, humping away. Fantasies, fantasies.

She had fantasies of her own. Damn right she did. She wasn't the type of person who lived by consequences be dammed, the type that threw caution to the wind. Yet, she wasn't beyond acting on impulse either, and at this moment, she felt that her impulsive side was getting the better of her rational side. She leaned forward in her chair and drew a mischievous look. "Jerry, not to be presumptuous, but I get the sense that we might be on the same wavelength."

He thought they might be also, but wanted to be sure. "Same wavelength as in..." He wanted her to fill in the blanks.

She chuckled. "I don't think I need to spell it out. But let me just say that if I was single and around your age, we might be dating by now." She scooted her chair closer to his. "Look, I'll be blunt. Without giving too much away, my marriage leaves a lot to be desired. I've never cheated on Albert and as far as I know, he's never cheated on me. I didn't intend to start by calling you in here. However, now that you're here...well, honestly, I find it tempting."

Just the anticipation of getting naked with this sensuous older woman made his cock begin to stir. Being experienced, he knew what to do, but he didn't feel it was his place to make the first move. That didn't stop him from putting another feeler out, a literal one this time. When he reached out and began to rub her thigh, she did nothing to stop him. In fact, she encouraged him to go further by lifting her dress higher. The smooth, sensuous feel of her tanned skin, not to mention the black laced panties he could now see, ramped up his excitement.

She knew it, too, and let him know that she was open to taking the next step. In fact, what she did next--hiked her dress around her waist and spread her luscious legs--skipped a few steps. "Albert hated doing oral on me. How about you, Jerry?"

Momentarily stunned by this blatant, unexpected move, he could do little more than stare. To say it took him by surprise was an understatement. However, he soon "recovered" enough to say, "My specialty," and then proceeded to get on his knees. She shifted the crotch of her panties aside and he went to work, giving her what had driven his former lovers wild.

She soon discovered that his "specialty" was no empty brag. Jerry's tongue swished across her wet pussy with all deliberate speed. Minutes before, they were having a normal conversation, sipping iced tea. Now, in the improbable confines of her white, freshly painted kitchen, she was almost shrieking with delight, throwing her head back in orgasmic ecstasy. A specialty indeed, for when was the last time any man doing this brought her to climax so soon? There was no last time because no man ever had. Until now, that is.

She leaned forward, put her head down and shook her head. "Whew! Ohmygod, that was wonderful. What do I owe you?"

She was joking, of course, and Jerry knew it. "Your reaction alone," he said, "was reward enough. Well, almost."

She wasn't so high on what he just did for her that she didn't notice the bulge in the crotch of his shorts. "Let's see what you've got there, baby." She saw plenty when she pulled down his shorts and then began to stroke it, first with her hand, then with her mouth, careful not to abrade the skin with her teeth. Underestimating the time it would take him to climax, she barely had time to grab a tissue to catch his cum before it dripped onto the floor. "Oh, my, lets get you cleaned up while we still have the time."

But there was less time than she thought, for in the midst of cleaning up, she heard a car pull into her driveway. "Ohmygod, they're back!"

It was something out of a bad X-rated comedy, the two of them scrambling, rushing to fix their clothes and disposing the wet tissues in the kitchen trashcan. When Albert and Kenneth walked in, Jerry and Mary Kay were seated at the kitchen table, finishing their iced tea.

"Well, did you win?" Mary Kay asked Kenneth, who's thick, stocky body type resembled his dad's.

Answering for him, Albert said, "No, his team lost, five to four."

Kenneth's frown began to morph into a grin. "But I did score a goal."

"You'll get 'em next time," Albert said. Then he turned toward Mary Kay's house guest. "Jerry, you look like you were running around in this heat also. Did you have a lacrosse game today?"

Jerry struggled not to laugh. "No, just a one-man game of stick ball against the walls. Your wife was kind enough to invite me in for some iced tea." He jiggled the remaining ice cubes in his glass, while trading furtive glances with Mary Kay.

She looked down, pursing her lips, on the verge of laughing also. Then, looking at Albert she said, "Jerry looked so hot out there, dripping with perspiration, I was afraid he might get heat stroke."

"Well, it wasn't quite that bad," Jerry said, forcing himself to keep a straight face.

Albert looked at the two of them in a curious way, as if he didn't quite know what to make of their comments that sounded slightly strained. Finally, he said, "Well, we're going upstairs to shower. Nice seeing you, Jerry."

"Talk about close calls," Jerry said, close to a whisper even after Kenneth and Albert were out of earshot. He ran a hand through his hair, still damp with sweat.

"Yeah, I guess we should stop meeting like this," Mary Kay said. She paused, hesitant to add something else. Then: "But I hope we won't stop meeting. If you know what I mean."

Jerry nodded. "I'm pretty sure I do. But how, I mean how would we--″

"Work out the logistics? I'm not sure but where there's a will, there's a way." She chuckled. "Jeez, I'm just full of clichés today, aren't I? Look, like I said, I've never cheated on Jerry. But after what you just did for me, I'm more open than ever to the possibility. So what do you think of that?"

Jerry shrugged. "It's wrong, I know, and I wouldn't want to do something that might get you in trouble. But I also know that I find you irresistibly hot."

"And I think of you in the same way, Jerry Blake." She took his hand, then leaned across the table. "Now let's kiss on it."

They did, and kissed even more when he stood by the door to leave. It was a goodbye hug, dry hump and smooch that they both knew wasn't a goodbye at all but the beginning of something naughty but damn near irresistible.

*****

Mary Kay had the will; she just wasn't sure of the way. The trick was to meet Jerry somewhere, then return home without arousing suspicion. They both worked, Albert at his accounting firm, and Mary Kay as a supervisor for the township court system. Sundays were reserved for family time--no chance then. Which left Saturday as the best option. She and Albert usually went out on Saturday night. But she was usually free during the day. Yeah, she could see it. She'd have her fun with Jerry and then, hours later, she and Albert might go to dinner, take in a movie or both. Or, they might join friends at some house party. What a preposterous, fantastical proposition--and a potentially messy one at that. She knew two women that carried on under their husband's noses. One broke it off and stayed married. The other got divorced.

May Kay wasn't sure she could do it. But maybe she could if it was a one-night stand, a fling. Albert was the only man she'd ever been to bed with. After a few years of marriage, she had wondered what it would feel like to get intimate with another man. A man around her age might want something more, something ongoing. Jerry's age precluded anything long-term. It would be brief. And, if his oral skills were any indication, the rest of it would send her into a blissful orbit. But what if it was so blissful, so wonderful that she wanted more, something ongoing? And what if Jerry did?

She was torturing herself with indecision. She didn't have to do this. She could chalk it up to some ridiculous fantasy, then drop the idea and continue on with her life as it was. Business as usual. The business of being a working mom and a faithful wife, albeit one that felt desperate for something she wasn't supposed to have. Desperate. Yes, she felt desperate, especially after getting a taste, no pun intended, of what her handsome, young neighbor appeared all too willing to provide.

*****

This was cool. Super cool even. Prior to the recent kitchen episode, Mary Kay had been the subject of locker room talk between Jerry and his buddies. Now, unbelievably, he and Mary Kay were going to get it on. 'Keep this tightly under wraps,' Mary Kay had told him. Temping as it was to tell, he intended to keep it under wraps. Personally, Jerry didn't care if his friends knew. He wasn't a habitual braggart. However, once in a while he'd mention some girl he'd been with and his friends, particularly the bullshitters among them, would draw envious looks, much to Jerry's smug delight. But this was different. There would be no more locker room talk coming from him. Mary Kay was a neighbor--and a married one at that. He didn't want to get her in trouble or do something that might destroy her marriage. And, if his parents found out...well, that was a potential explosion. Jerry always felt that his dad, Stone Blake, might consider doing the same thing if given the opportunity. Stone never said as much, at least to Jerry. But Jerry saw his dad checking out Mary Kay when she came outside, especially when she sun-bathed in her backyard. Betty, his mom, had seen both Stone and Jerry turning their lustful gazes toward Mary Kay. Jerry would laugh to himself, watching Betty watching her husband and her son watching that sexy neighbor of theirs. Other than embarrassed, comical looks between them, nothing was said.

*****

Temptation had gotten the better of her, and Mary Kay knew it. The faithful wife would soon be faithful no more. She was behind the wheel of her maroon, '71 Chrysler New Yorker, headed toward Bankcroff's, a classy suburban eatery, just a few miles down the road from the McComas Inn. The plan: to treat Jerry to lunch, then follow him to the McComas for some afternoon delight.

She felt nervous as well as excited; happy as well as, well, not so happy. She wanted to do this and she didn't. With apologies to Dickens, "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness..." Except there was nothing wise about what she was about to do. Foolish, yes. Wise, no. Yet she needed to do this. At least that's the way she rationalized it. She had needs, she had wants, she had temptations, and Jerry was one huge temptation she couldn't pass up. More accurate, she chose not to pass up.

She pulled into the parking lot and there he was, looking so cool and sexy, sunglasses atop his head, arms folded, leaning against the door of his orange, '69 GTO, a gift from his parents. He wore khaki shorts, a blue and white stripped short-sleeve sport shirt and brown loafers sans socks.

She smiled, watching him gawk when she alighted from her car, his eyes trained on her bare legs, exposed in a colorful dress when her movement hiked the hem halfway up her slender thighs. "Been waiting long?"

He unfolded his arms and said, "Just a few minutes." He reached out and took both her hands in his. "It's great seeing you. I Just hope there's nobody in there that knows us."

She nodded. "That WOULD be awkward. But I'm confident there won't be. If not, I wouldn't have come here."

Bankcroff's was known for its dim lighting as well as fine food. A good thing, Mary Kay thought. When indulging in hanky-panky, you wanted to do it in the shadows, so to speak. Much of the light came from candles encased in red globes atop tables covered in white linen. It was the perfect place for a romantic lunch or dinner. Of course, romance is usually between two people that have known each other awhile, not between an older woman and her college-age, would-be lover. Still, in the glow of candlelight, she couldn't help but feel romantic, being with this great looking kid. As he perused the menu, she stole admiring glances of his chiseled features, his strong jawline and beautiful smile, and his thick head of hair.

"This is nice, really nice," he said, after the server took their menus. "Expensive too. Let me at least pay the tip."

She waved it away. "No, it's all on me. You're still in college. And anyway, I want to do this. I like you."

"I just hope you'll like me even more after we get to the motel."

"I have no doubt, Jerry." She didn't. She had second thoughts but they had noting to do with how Jerry would perform but on the immorality of it all. She was about to become an adulterer. Try as she might, she couldn't get comfortable with that idea. Even if this turned out to be a one-time thing, it was still wrong. She rubbed the back of her neck, then began to fidget with the silverware.