Laura and Don Pt. 05

(Note to Readers: The first three parts of this story were posted in the Erotic Couplings category. The fourth part was posted in the Letters and Transcripts category.)

*****

The Month Of Separation was almost over. Tonight, with two days left, Laura and Don would bend their arbitrary rules by being in the same place. They would be in public, in the company of acquaintances. As long as they weren't alone together, they could agree that they were still separate.

The tough part would be going home alone.

Laura Canfield and Don Pelfrey had hooked up as strangers, both expecting the usual one-and-done-night-stand. They woke up feeling connected, reluctantly. They were too young, too career-focused, and too student-loan-indebted to get serious about anyone.

He had suggested that they spend a month physically apart, but communicating, to get to know one another and see if their attraction would last. She had turned this into an exchange of snail-mail letters, because she didn't like using the internet for anything truly personal.

They had each had one more one-night stand after they 'separated,' and each found that the new excursion with a stranger didn't change anything. Laura still felt strongly about Don, and Don felt the same about Laura.

Writing and reading their letters only reinforced this.

They were both healthy and, to most observers, good-looking, but what really made them click was their incisive wit and their appreciation of such wit in others.

Further complicating matters, while to some extent also clarifying them, was the existence of a dating app called SylviBase, in which women anonymously reviewed the men they dated, also anonymously, but with the men described in enough detail to make it potentially possible to determine the man's identity. Laura had never used the app, but her friend Lesley Tomlinson had told her that someone who was almost certainly Don was reviewed very positively, including by the woman Don had picked up the week after he met Laura.

Now it was Saturday, and Laura and Don would be among those gathering at a bowling alley for a celebration of the debt freedom of one of Don's friends.

Out of the shower and lightly applying after shave, Don found that he couldn't think past the date he and Laura had planned for Monday (when their Month actually ended, and she would bring a carry-out dinner to his apartment). How much time could they really give each other, at this stage in their lives?

Choosing a different blouse than what she had worn for partying lately, Laura decided that she was ready to give up being a dating butterfly and wrap her legs around Don. For now. How long would 'now' last?

Laura and Don had tried to keep what they were doing to themselves, but they lived in a big city and had many friends who also pursued young professionalism and hookup dating. Word had spread about what they were doing (or not doing, as in, each other). Don's male friends, and Laura's female friends, wondered whether this would affect the dynamics of their group prowling of bars and clubs. This was true even of the friends who had actually become a couple on the night when Laura and Don met.

Marcie Blevins said, "Tell me all about Don Pelfrey."

Arnie Mueller responded, "No, you tell me all about Laura Canfield."

"I asked you first, and I have your dick in my hand."

The alpha males in Don's crowd, Russ and George, addressed the dynamics as they played golf.

"We'll need a new wingman if Don is out," said George, removing his gloves after a 230-yard drive. "Somebody who can sniff out the smart chick and keep her from giving the other chicks her better judgment."

"We need Arnie back," said Russ. "Maybe his ho will ditch him."

George winced at Russ's term for 'woman,' mainly because if it slipped out in mixed company it might ruin George's chances of a hookup. "Arnie's just an icebreaker. He can't clear the field like Don does."

"When we're at the bowling alley, you go and put moves on Don's ho," said Russ, getting out his e-cig. "Then she dumps him, and we get him back."

George was halfway into the cart when this sank in. He glared out at Russ. "Fuck you! I'm not your wingman!"

The alpha females in Laura's crowd, Neris and Dana, met for lunch at a sidewalk cafe, to give them a strong dose of their preferred ambiance before they subjected themselves to a bowling alley.

"So you scorched Russ on SylviBase?" asked Neris, enjoying the breeze in her just-styled hair, its blondness reinforced.

"He earned it," said Dana, with a slight knitting of her brows that was about far as her facial expression ever went. "It was all about him. I turned him down on one thing he wanted to do to me, and another he wanted me to do to him. He never said a word when he drove me back to my car."

Neris smiled, confident that her upper lip wouldn't show a shadow. The exoticism of her Iranian background, slightly dusky skin but blue eyes, gave her a wow factor but also required attention to matters not normally associated with feminine beauty. "Thanks," she said. "Going home alone will be better than putting up with an asshole."

"You didn't review George?"

"Didn't see any point," said Neris with a shrug. "It was okay, sex-wise. But he was always keeping up his act. It was like everything he said or did was a trial balloon, with him checking to see the effect it had on me. He might not have said one sincere thing the whole night."

Dana poked her fork into her salad. "So tonight might be a total washout."

"We're supposed to think that it's not about us," said Neris archly. "It's about this weird courtship dance between two smartypants betas. And, oh right, some nerd getting out of debt."

Dana chewed and swallowed decorously, looking out at the smart city scene, swan-like neck at full elevation. "Find us a hot club for later tonight." Then, before Neris could complain about this treatment, Dana added, "I'll cover the ride-share."

***

Walt Grossbeck was aware that the party he was throwing for himself had somehow metastasized into an echo of a meeting of two dating groups, weeks before, at a bar called Hazlett's. He didn't mind. He looked forward to seeing some women show up to one of his parties. This was, in fact, only the third party he had ever thrown, and the first two had devolved rather quickly into role-play gaming by socially inept males.

As he put up decorations in the alley's party room, Walt was almost dazed by how his life had developed lately. He had landed a high-end programming job right out of college, and promotions, bonuses, and profit participation had allowed him to project an early date for paying off his student loan. Frugality also buoyed up another key statistic for millennials, his credit score.

Tagging along with some college friends as they tried to pick up women was mostly an amusement for him to watch, but three weeks ago he had actually made an opposite-sex friendship of his own, at an artsy coffeehouse where he had joined Don and Russ. Walt and Amanda Regnery had so far just hung out. Neither had proposed sex, but he enjoyed her company and the attention. They seemed to share an environmentally-conscious worldview, from genuine fact-finding rather than guilt. With debt freedom, he could now devote some time to her, and their perspective.

Amanda masking-taped butcher paper at the corner of a table. "How well do you know Don Pelfrey?" she asked.

Walt shrugged as he tied crepe-paper streamers around the frames of the ceiling tile. "We were both in computer science. We hung out, but I wouldn't say we were close." He looked over at her. "Why do you ask?"

"The night you and I met, he went home with my friend Becca," she said, with her usual calm smile. "Since then I've heard about him and this other woman seeming to go steady, but not having time for each other."

He dismounted the step stool and looked at her with what was, for him, also a calm smile, but came through as a geeky grin. "You have a problem with this?"

She shook her head. "Yuppie love. It's even worse now than it was for my parents. Loan debt eats their lives." Amanda's degree was in cybernetics, from social, historical, and philosophical angles. Scholarships had brought her costs way down. She was plain-faced and a bit fleshy, and Walt had yet to see her use makeup.

"I'm out of the trap," Walt said.

"I'll believe that when I see you working normal hours." She angled her head. "You may."

He hugged her. She hugged back.

***

There were fourteen people all together, including two of Walt's co-workers and a middle-aged woman who arrived with Lesley. They spread across four lanes, generally along established acquaintance lines. Lesley had brought extra pairs of white cotton ankle socks for the women who might not have planned for shoe rental.

Laura and Don smiled at each other in greeting, and went to groups at different lanes.

His smile lingered as he watched her. Laura's brown hair was styled the same, curled in at the nape and with bangs on the forehead. She wore a satiny long-sleeved blouse, knotted at the slender waist, over black fabric at the midriff that may have been a t-shirt. Her jeans were a faded light blue and went high enough on her waist to emphasize her hips and legs. She was 5' 8", and tonight she made no attempt to fade into the shadow cast by her blonde friends. Once in a while, Don got a glimpse of her hazel eyes.

Laura had long professed an indifference to men's looks. What made the sight Don enjoyable for her was the fact that he was Don. Straight brown hair cut close on the sides, long nose, narrow chin. Barely taller than her, maybe 5' 9". Her heart rate picked up slightly as she remembered what she currently couldn't see, his lean build and gym-honed abs.

"You're not even going to kiss?" Lesley asked Laura.

Laura shook her head and replied, sotto voce, "If I did, I might progress immediately to sitting on his face."

"Remember what I said about confiding in me?" asked Lesley, who would look decidedly blonde only if Dana, Neris, and Marcie weren't present. "You can stop now."

"How are you doing?" Walt asked Don with a handshake. From Walt, Don thought, that question isn't likely to carry an undercurrent.

"I'm sure I'm just as inept a bowler as I always was," Don said with a smile. Walt let it go at that, and then introduced Amanda. Don, on his toes, said not only that he recalled meeting her at Culture Counter but also that her remarks on the internet's effects on human perception gave him plenty to think about. He interpreted Amanda's smile to be one of grudging admiration for a guy who had been otherwise focused on the woman he'd take to his place that night.

Walt, his co-workers, and Amanda bowled on one the middle lanes. Arnie and Marcie were on the other middle lane, joined by Lesley. On the outsides were guys (Don, George, and Russ) and gals (Laura, Dana, and Neris). The woman who arrived with Lesley, and had not been introduced, merely looked on.

The scorekeeping was automatic, so most of the bowlers paid little attention to it. The exceptions were Walt, who was fairly good, and Neris, a natural athlete. They each made a point of finishing two games. Some of the others drifted to the bar and missed turns.

When Arnie and Marcie weren't keeping up running commentary and laughing loudly, each would sometimes make eye-contact related to the Laura-Don situation. When Don rolled a strike, the short, bouncy Marcie eyed Laura and gave her something like a he's-no-slouch look (conveniently ignoring Don's many non-strikes). When Laura bowled, showing the same grace and poise she had on a dance floor, the look to Don from the hefty, guileless Arnie may have expressed something like heyyyyy-not-baaaad (ignoring Laura's result, a 6-7 split).

Walt eventually got everybody to turn in their shoes and move to the party room. Laura saw Lesley chatting with the unidentified woman. Her mother? Laura wondered. If so, why? As far as Laura knew, Lesley wasn't involved with or interested in the guys who were here.

In the party room there was a bowl of fruity, non-alcoholic punch, and a sheet cake with 'Debt free!' written in icing, and a printer-transferred image of a cartoon, showing a disappointed wolf leaving the door of a house. Don had a hunch that the illo was Amanda's idea, and later confirmed that it was, getting from her more grudging admiration. Walt showed no concern about Don's attention to Amanda, and in fact was pleased that at least one of his friends wasn't ignoring her.

Walt thanked everyone for attending and expressed his hope that everyone else in debt would soon get free of it. He was about to start cutting the cake, but Amanda (perhaps perceiving boredom, especially among those who carried themselves as alphas) said, "How about some music first? Would anyone like to dance?" Quickly Walt turned to the small boom box next to the cake and punched a button.

Laura caught Don's eye, half-smiled, and rose. Don's smile was wider, knowing that she would outclass him hopelessly. Still, embarrassing himself in public while sharing an activity with Laura would be better than doing anything else without Laura. He rose and approached her. She was already stepping and hip-swinging to the medium-tempo instrumental.

Arnie and Marcie, holding hands, also took the floor, potentially giving Don some cover. They were enthusiastic, but not especially skilled. Russ and George approached Neris and Dana, respectively, and all four began swaying in what may have amounted to a sustained, collective shrug.

Walt's co-workers, far nerdier than Walt himself, approached Lesley and the other woman. Maybe to avoid rejecting them, the ladies agreed to stand and sort-of-dance, these couples getting as far as asking names and providing them. Walt smiled at Amanda and offered his hand, and because she had suggested the music, she had no way to turn him down (and in fact didn't want to).

Don asked, "Do I have to keep moving, or can I just watch you?"

Laura did a spin, with his face as her before-and-after fixed point, like that of an ice skater. Half-smiling, arms undulating, she said, "You'd better dance. That's how you swept me off my feet." She spoke at normal volume, but was audible above the music, and there were a couple laughs, maybe from Marcie and Lesley.

"All righty then," said Don, not caring whether anyone picked up the Ace Ventura reference. He launched into what he hoped looked like dance moves, arms and legs flying, but not actually trying to look ridiculous. Laura emulated his moves, clearly to make the dance universe accommodate what he was doing, not to put him down. This kept up for a while, and as Don picked up on what Laura was doing, he tried to refine the moves he had done that she was including in her dance.

The other couples watched them, and gradually stopped dancing. Arnie declared in his usual strong tenor, "It's like in the movies! Everyone else stops, and claps along around the one couple!"

Marcie, able to match him in volume, said, "I think we're okay just watching."

Don and Laura were both having trouble keeping their smiles limited. At no time did they touch, maintaining their separation.

Laura let her smile grow, but said, "You think you're hot stuff, Pelfrey?"

He dove right into the trap, choosing funny hubris over self-deprecation. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, waving a hand over his head.

"Then you need a more demanding partner," she said. She pivoted and, in rhythm, danced to where her oversized shoulder bag sat on the floor. When there, she stepped out of her flats, pulled out her not-very-high heels, and ostentatiously put them on her feet. She then strutted back to Don, and cracked up, seeing the bugged-out eyes of the man who wanted her to wear skyscraper stilettos.

She now resumed dancing, limited only slightly by her increased height and reduced floor coverage. "Hello down there," she called to him, beaming.

He regained control, mostly, and never stopped moving to the music. He even bent his knees more than necessary for the moves he was attempting, conceding to her the higher altitude. "I welcome the attack of the fifty-foot woman!" he said, digging up a reference much older than Ace Ventura.

Dana leaned over Neris's shoulder and said, "Ride's here."

"You go ahead," said the fascinated Neris, still facing Laura and Don. "I'm good."

The music ended soon after. Before the next track could start, Arnie said, "That was great, but Walt should have his cake."

"Oh, does that mean you don't want any?" Marcie put in. Arnie, quickly getting accustomed to being part of a two person act, shrugged and then mimed eating his fist.

Chuckling, Amanda turned off the boom box.

Walt then became the center of attention as he sliced the cake and put cubes of it on paper plates. Don looked at Laura's feet, then looked Laura in the eye, not minding the slight lifting of his face. "Should I read into this some...future possibilities?"

She put her hands on her hips, as any fifty-foot woman should. "No, you should enjoy this moment of the present as it prepares to plunge into the past. Are you turned on by watching a woman's feet bleed?"

He put on a clearly phony look of concern. "You're right, of course." He got out his phone. "I should record your suffering, to remind me that it should never happen again."

"See that you do," she said with an equally phony pout. Then she pivoted, and sashayed ever so slowly back to her shoulder bag. Even with her in jeans, Don savored the sight of her swaying hips. Don ended the video clip when she had put away the heels and put on her flats.

"Niiiice," said Russ.

Anger flared as Don looked at the smirking Russ, who was also observing Laura's derriere. Then Don chuckled and said, "As if you have a chance."

Laura picked up on this immediately as she walked back. With a dismissive look she said to Russ, "If you don't have it between the ears, it doesn't matter what's between the legs. I would now embrace and kiss Mr. Pelfrey, except we have a prior agreement to hold off on that until we can..." she looked at Don, licking her parted lips. "...get a room."

Russ gaped in total incomprehension. Behind him, George rolled his eyes.

Lesley spoke up. "Some guys might benefit from learning that there can be consequences from their dating behavior." She turned to her companion, "I'd like you all to meet Sylvia Cronin. She's the founder and operator of SylviBase."

Even though he was gobsmacked, Don was well positioned to see the reactions of most of the people in the room. Walt and his co-workers looked blank. So did Russ. George, however, looked very worried. Laura's eyes widened. Neris reacted the most, with a gleeful smile and an offer to hug, which the smiling Sylvia accepted.

Walt said, "I'm sorry, what is SylviBase?"

"It's a dating app," said Sylvia. "Women post reviews of the men they date. No names or pictures are used, but the men are described in great detail so women reading the reviews can get a pretty good idea who each man is." Sylvia was a short, curvy, dusky-skinned woman with graying hair and large black eyes. She smiled in the direction of Don. "When Ms. Tomlinson contacted me, I was quite happy to accompany her here. I always like to assess the effects of the app in the real world. And I was eager to meet one of SylviBase's stars."

George said incredulously, "Don Pelfrey?"

"Glowingly reviewed by a number of women," said Sylvia, "for both fulfilling their desires and seeking out what else would please them. A sweet and generous lover, despite his acerbic wit." Sylvia looked at George. "And every assignation with Mr. Pelfrey took place before he ever heard of SylviBase." Despite apparently enjoying George's male-model looks, she sneered. "Unlike some people who blatantly fish for positive reviews."