Regaining My Life

Zoë petted my arm then my chest hair. "You could make a single girl wish to be married." She raised her head and placed her elbows on my chest. Her hips shifted, and I fell out of her vagina. "Ooh, I had you in there this whole time. What time is it?"

"I would guess some time after two at least."

She rolled off me and grabbed her water bottle. She took a long pull and handed it to me. The water tasted so fine. Zoë said, "We should probably be headed back. Gonna wash off first."

She quickly ran to the water and jumped in. I followed her, and she swam up and put her hands on my shoulders. Her face next to mine.

She kissed with an open mouth. "Chris was right. You are an amazing lover." She kissed me again. "I'd love to do this all day, but we should get going."

We were both wet. I went commando with shorts and a shirt. Zoë put on the bikini.

I asked, "Don't want to win another bet?"

"Next hike. We'll be Wood Nymphs and both go naked."

I got another wonderful show on the hike back down the trail. She stayed in the bikini all the way to my house. I loved looking at her fine, practically naked ass.

When she got to my house, she got out and put her shorts and t-shirt on. "I just realized there's a five-year old boy at my house. I have to be careful not to corrupt him."

I was going to invite her in, but Zoë gave off some vibes that she was done for the day. She kissed me for several minutes before I got out of the car, our tongues having a little wrestling match.

She winked at me, "Call me."

"Or you can come over and talk."

"That would be nice."

"Would you like to come over for dinner? Maybe Friday or Saturday?"

"I'd like that. I'll let you know."

_ _ _ _ _

Chapter 4

The heat and humidity finally broke on Thursday. A cold front with summer thunderstorms passed through overnight. There was just a touch of autumn in the air. I spent the morning preparing for the coming semester, then had a nice garden salad for lunch. It was about 12:30 when I headed out. I planned to put a second coat of red paint on the section of the barn I had repaired earlier that month. I was stirring the paint at my workbench, when Chris drove her car into the barn.

She hopped out, "Do you mind if I close the barn door?"

"No, go ahead."

She ran around and closed the door. Then she came over to me. I stopped stirring and turned to her.

Chris asked, "Is hugging allowed?"

I held out my arms, "You've been hugging me for years. Of course."

Chris skipped into my arms. She was wearing modest jeans and a professional looking blouse. She squeezed me tight, her breasts pressing into my chest. My arms around her back returned the pressure, my hands pressing into the clasps of her bra. She had returned to her modest self.

I kissed the top of her head as I was accustomed to doing. She looked up and took my face in both hands and very lightly pressed her soft lips to mine. She held them there for several seconds. She sighed and returned her head to my chest.

She said, "Thank you for being my friend and putting up with me."

"I will gladly put up with you till my dying day."

"I gotta tell you I'm getting worried about some of the thoughts I've been having. Scary thoughts. My spirit is being crushed by a great, dark weight. To tell you the truth, coming to see you today is the only thing that got me out of bed this morning."

I kissed the top of her head again, "Christina, I think you need to talk someone. I'll give you the name of the therapist I worked with. She's expensive, but worth it. Our health insurance covers 80%. I've talked to her a lot over the past two years. If you need help, I'll pay for some of it."

She nodded, "Don't worry. I can manage it," then broke the hug, "So, what are we working on today?"

"Painting a spot on the back of the barn."

"Let me go get changed." She went over and pulled a reusable grocery bag out of the back seat of her car. "Be back in a jiff." She took off running through the side door of the barn.

I poured the paint into two smaller buckets, got out two brushes, and two step ladders. I took them around to the back and set them down. By the time I had set up, Chris jogged up. She wasn't even out of breath. She was wearing a white 'Property of My Cat' t-shirt. A pair of well-worn jeans accentuated her hips.

I said, "Here's the section we're painting. It's already got one coat."

"Sounds good." She placed a ladder on the right side and got to work.

Not looking at me she asked in a sing-song voice, "So how was your hike?"

I mimicked her, "I'm sure you know."

"Yes, I do, but I would like to hear about it from you."

"Zoë and I had a nice hike."

"And?"

"She embraced her inner wood nymph. She is stunningly beautiful."

Chris said, "I know, but she doesn't think so."

"We went swimming and had a nice lunch."

"And made love under the maples by the pond."

"Chris, do you know how awkward this is? Telling a woman I love dearly that I had sex with her best friend?"

"That I encouraged by the way. I think it's good for you. I think it's good for both of you. Like that Marvin Gaye song." She sang, "Sexual healing is something that's good for me."

"Sign her up for karaoke night."

Chris said, "Not on your life. I love you both so much. I really think she should be your friend with benefits."

"As opposed to a friend with shower benefits?"

"Sort of, but not. I saw you have a road bike in the barn. Is it rideable?"

"I can give it a tune up. What do you have in mind?"

"I need to start running again. You could pedal alongside me. Carry my water bottle."

"Like a domestique at the Tour de France?"

"Yes. Exactly. Would you do that?"

"Okay. I'll look at it tomorrow, give it a tune up. I'll be ready by tomorrow afternoon if you want to run then."

The spot we were painting was on the shady, north side of the barn. Neither of us broke a sweat.

Chris said, "I'm thirsty. Do you have any water down here?"

"There a bottle in on the workbench."

"Want some too?"

"Sure."

Chris went in and returned with the bottle, holding it up to me. She had spilt some strategically on her t-shirt so that her nipples were clearly visible.

She smiled, "Had a hole in my chin."

"Are you going to torment me like this every day?"

"Maybe not every day, but as often as possible." She returned to painting. "So, tell me about your picnic."

"Zoë had some nice sandwiches, some cut up carrots and celery, some mixed nuts. Really good."

"And then?"

"Chris, I'm not going to kiss and tell."

"Why not? Zoë did."

"And what did she report?"

"She told me about giving you a blow job. Exquisite detail. I could see your penis clearly in my mind's eye. It sounds like she needs some practice though."

"Are you going to coach her?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Although, that would suck not being able to demonstrate for her. Zoë told me how she rode you cowgirl style. By the way, she didn't know that was a term. She told me about how she figured out how to get maximum penetration and how she made you cum. It sounds like you didn't get a chance to get her going though."

"No. She didn't give me a chance. I really wanted to taste her and smell her."

"I figured that. I didn't let on that you enjoy that."

"She's coming over for dinner this weekend. Maybe I can bring her some pleasure then."

Chris ran her fingers across her lips like a zipper. Her shirt had dried, but I could tell she was braless. Her natural breasts were so beautiful in the tight t-shirt.

She turned back to her work, "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I'm really jealous that Zoë got to give you a blow job. I absolutely love giving blow jobs. Tell me if this is too much, but I love the taste of cum."

"Yeah, that's too much."

"So what. You need to know that. There is something so empowering about having a man sitting in front of me naked and placing myself between his legs. His penis there to suck on. Completely at my mercy with his penis in my mouth."

"Chris, if we're not going to be lovers, you probably shouldn't tell me this."

"We'll be lovers again one day. I want you to know how I'm going to suck you and make you cum for me. I love starting with a flaccid penis. Slowly licking up and down your shaft. Running my tongue around the edge of the head of your penis. Touching your sensitive skin with my soft lips. Taking you into my mouth and feeling you grow. Taking you all the way into my mouth so that my nose is buried in your pubes so I can smell you. I have this great swallowing technique that makes it feel like I'm massaging your penis in my mouth. Are you ignoring me?"

"How can I ignore this?"

"Good. I want you to think about how good I am at taking an erect penis all the way into my mouth. All the way into my throat. I'm going to love edging you. Bringing you to the brink of orgasm and then backing off. I going to love teasing you. Licking around the head of your penis. Am I making you hard right now?"

"Yes, we should change the subject."

"Not yet. Tasting your pre-cum on my tongue."

"Speaking of pre-cum, it's running down my leg."

"It's okay. This is making me so wet. I'm going to bring you to the edge of orgasm a few times, then I'm going to shove you right over. I press on that spot between your balls and your ass, massaging your prostate. Maybe put my finger into your ass and rub your prostate directly. Your orgasm is going to be so intense. I'm going to make sure you come in my mouth. I love swallowing every drop. Milking your shaft for those extra few drops. Your cum is going to taste so good. I'm salivating right now thinking about the salty, sweet taste when you fill my mouth."

Chris got down off the ladder, walked over and placed her hand on my budging trousers. "Good. Just the effect I was hoping for."

She poured more water on her t-shirt. "Just so you remember."

"How can I forget?"

We finished up painting and put everything away.

She asked, "What do you do with the brushes?"

"Soap and water clean-up in the mudroom."

We started walking toward the house. Chris took my hand. I held the door when we got to the house, and she led me in. I moved to the sink and started running the water.

"Here move over." She nudged me with her hip.

I added some cold to lower the temperature. I squirted some dish detergent on my brush then hers.

"You just rub out the paint and keep rinsing a lot. Add detergent as necessary. Rub, rinse, rub, rinse. Not exactly compelling work."

Standing shoulder to shoulder, we worked on cleaning the brushes and somehow, she managed to keep her shirt very wet, her nipples erect on the white fabric. The alarm on her phone in her pocket went off. "Half past, time to clean up to get John."

Chris moved over to the laundry basket and peeled off her shirt, exposing her breasts to me. My erection noticeable in my jeans.

"You really enjoy tormenting me, don't you?"

She smiled her naughty smile. I stopped the cleaning so I could watch her. She became more seductive with the attention. She kicked off the old sneakers she wore, and then removed her socks. She turned around and wiggled her ass at me. I was getting a personal strip tease. She turned around again, facing me, her eyes locked onto mine. She undid her fly and slowly moved her jeans over her hips. Her delta of Venus appeared, and she allowed the jeans to drop to the floor. She stepped out of them, then turned around, spread her legs slightly, and reached to pick up her clothes; a classic stripper move. The view of Chris from behind was sensational. She came over to me and placed her hand on the front of my straining jeans.

"I'm sorry I do this to you."

"No, you're not."

Chris smiled impishly, "No, I'm not."

I reached down and wiped my fingers across her vulva. She groaned then kissed me. I placed my fingers into my mouth.

She moved to the door and said, "I have to take a shower. Don't come up."

I finished with the paint brushes and hung them to dry. I thought, Two can play this game.

I took off my shoes, moved quietly up the stairs to my bedroom, and stripped. I could hear the shower going. I pulled on my cock to keep it at maximum hardness. The bathroom door was open and I stood just outside. I could see her hands occasionally above the shower curtain. The shower stopped and she stepped out onto the bathmat and was toweling off.

I walked in, my erection straight out, "My turn."

She was surprised and then smiled. I stood next to her, then leaned in and turned on the water. She reached out and grabbed the shaft of my cock.

I said, "We're not supposed to be lovers remember?"

She gave me a couple of strokes, "You're right. That's the rule."

Chris dropped to her knees and turned my hips. She kissed the tip of my cock, then proceeded to take me all the way into her mouth. I could feel her swallowing like she said she would.

Then suddenly she was off me and on her feet. "See what I can do?"

"This is really not fair Chris."

She disappeared out the door. I climbed in, closed the curtain, and finished stroking myself off. I noticed that I when I came, I was starting to shoot a bit rather than dribble. Maybe my pelvic muscles were strengthening. I quickly washed and rinsed myself off. I turned off the water and opened the curtain. Chris was standing there, fully dressed in her original outfit.

She said, "Would friends with shower benefits be the same as being lovers?"

"I suppose if we controlled ourselves, it wouldn't be. You're doing a lousy job of controlling yourself."

That impish smile again. "Kiss me. I gotta go." I leaned over, she kissed me with an open mouth, her tongue touching mine, and grabbed my cock.

She said, "Let me think about it."

_ _ _ _ _

Chapter 5

Later, Zoë called and said Friday would be a nice evening for dinner. I asked if there was anything she couldn't eat and she said she avoided anything spicy; it wasn't good for her stomach. I called Chris for dinner advice and she said that Zoë eats anything, but she ate like a bird. Small portions would be smart.

The next day, Friday, I tuned up my bicycle. I was surprised I didn't get a visit from Chris. I did laundry, setting up a drawer in the bedroom for her work clothes. I also tidied up around the house, dusted and vacuumed. It wasn't that I was a neat freak, but I wanted Zoë to see my farmhouse at its best.

The dinner plan was a basil, mozzarella chicken dish that I had invented for Roz. I hadn't made it for at least five years. I was growing fond of Zoë. While a romantic dinner did not fit into the profile of a friend with benefits, I wanted to let her know that I treasured her friendship. For me, making the chicken dish for Zoë felt like a unique gift I could give her. I was unwrapping a piece of my past and presenting it anew.

I had fresh zucchini, tomatoes, lettuce greens, green beans, oregano, parsley, and basil from the garden. I also picked a quart of late season raspberries from my bushes. On the way into town, I was inspired to stop by the hardware store and have two extra house keys made. I stopped by the liquor store and selected a nice Napa Valley chardonnay.

Zoë was due at six, so I showered and shaved extra close at four. Figuring commando was best, I put on a pair of Dockers and a dress shirt. By quarter to six, I had the dinner all prepared and the table set. I made sure that the portions were small so that she wouldn't feel bad if she left something on her plate. It was still light outside, but I decided to light the candles anyway. I hoped they would create the kind of atmosphere that I was looking for. I got out my good china and set the dining room table according to Emily Post's etiquette guidance. Everything was prepared, all I had to do was serve the meal.

Zoë appeared at my mudroom door at five to six. She was going to knock, but she saw me coming and smiled. I opened the door and she stepped in.

Normally Zoë's hair was straight, but this evening it had a bit of curl and wave to it. Her dress was a pastel green. It reminded me of a dress from Greek mythology. It came up and fastened behind her neck leaving her shoulders, back, and arms bare. The neckline plunged to a little gold band that encircled her waist. While the dress was daring, it didn't expose anything. The hem was below her knee, and she wore matching flats.

She immediately put her arms around my neck, "Hey."

I put my hands on the small of her bare back, as she went on her tiptoes, closed her eyes, and gently kissed me. She hung her small purse on a coat hook by the door.

"Zoë you are simply mesmerizing this evening."

"Thanks. Chris helped me get ready."

"Well, thank you for taking the time to be such an enchanting dinner date."

I offered her my arm, "Please come in my dear. I have a very nice dinner prepared."

I escorted her to the dining room.

She exclaimed, "Oh, this is so nice!"

I held out the chair for her and she sat down.

I went into the kitchen and brought out the bottle of wine, then returned for the salad. "What type of dressing would you like, my dear?"

"Do you have ranch?"

I nodded. I retrieved two bottles of dressing: ranch and creamy Italian. I sat down and poured a little wine in each of our glasses. I wanted us both stone cold sober, but the wine went well with dinner.

Zoë was glowing, "This is a beautiful salad, Quinn."

"It's all from my garden."

"You are quite the gentleman farmer, aren't you?"

"It keeps me out of the bars."

She smiled. We finished our salads without any conversation. I didn't know if she was being bashful or was just naturally quiet, but she just looked at me and smiled a lot. I cleared away the salad bowls.

In the kitchen I plated the chicken, roasted zucchini, and green beans. I remembered small portions for Zoë. I put a little garnish of parsley on the side. I put the plate in front of her from the side as a waiter would do and then set a basket of dinner rolls in the center. I joined her at the table.

"Oh Quinn, this looks wonderful."

"It's my own recipe that I invented for Roz many years ago. I wanted to make you something special."

"Not only a gentleman farmer, but a chef!"

"I hope you enjoy it, my dear."

She placed her hand on my arm, "Do you have any idea how sweet this is?"

She was smiling intensely as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"What the matter?"

"Quinn, this is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has done for me. I feel like royalty. You are treating me like a princess."

I put on my fake British accent, "Only the finest for her majesty."

She squeezed my forearm, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

Zoë cut a small bite off the chicken and placed it in her mouth. Her eyes went wide.

She chewed and swallowed, "Oh Quinn, this is so good."

"I'm glad you like it."

She took a bite of zucchini, "Oh, this is good too. What did you do to it?"

"Not a lot. Some quality Spanish olive oil, a sprinkling of crushed fresh basil and oregano. About 20 minutes on each side on the grill. The beans are only steamed with melted butter."

"Well, it is so good."

Trying to keep the conversation going I asked, "So what have you been up to since I saw you last?"

"Mostly I have been trying to get used to having a five-year-old in my house. I am definitely not cut out for motherhood. I don't know how Chris or any other mother does it. Jackie goes non-stop and then he crashes. I know, I'm supposed to call him John, but a name is a hard habit to break."

"My grandkids do the same to me."

"How old are they?"

"Seven, five, and three. I love them dearly, but they are exhausting."

We had a very nice conversation on how to deal with little kids.

Zoë ate most of her meal, then looked a little sheepish, "Quinn, please don't think I didn't love this, I've just had some intestinal issues recently and I don't want to press my luck."