Temporary Boyfriend Ch. 05

Taylor held onto my left arm as we walked down the concourse after disembarking from the plane. We each had our carry-on over our other shoulder. I thought she was the hottest looking woman in the airport, even with her backpack and carrying her winter coat over her arm. We walked out through security, and there was a crowd of greeters.

Taylor said, "Stay close to me and don't speak."

We walked with purpose towards another young woman about Taylor's age with the same color hair and stature. The closer we got, the more I saw the resemblance. Face, hair, and eyeglasses were like the old Taylor, and it was hard to tell the rest given the heavy winter coat. The fundamental facial features were identical. I did a near double-take.

The woman kept looking past us, trying to scan the exit gate for her party -- for us. She wasn't seeing who she expected and kept straining to look past us.

We stopped right beside her, and she still hadn't really seen us.

Taylor tapped her on the shoulder. "Charlotte, hello!"

Charlotte turned, looked up and down at her sharply dressed sister, and screamed. 'OH, MY GOD, IT'S YOU!" About fifty people looked at the three of us. She was turning bright red in embarrassment and started to jump up and down with joy at realizing her sister was right beside her. The pair hugged and didn't let go. I stood by.

Loudly, she went on, "I ... I didn't recognize you. What'd you do? You look spectacular. Where are your glasses? And, you look so ... so ... well dressed ... and chic -- and even sexy. Your hair is gorgeous, and you have nail polish, and ... you seem so self-assured. Oh, God, sis, you've been away so long and obviously done some great things."

The sisters hugged and kissed, and studied each other.

Taylor finally gestured at me. "Charlotte this is my boyfriend, Josh." I reached out and took her hand, and then gently pulled her to me for a hug and a kiss on her cheek, the best I could do with a backpack and winter coat over one arm.

"Wow, Taylor, you have really done very well for yourself," Charlotte exclaimed as I released her. She was staring at me, grinning, and then would flash her sister a brief look. I felt that she approved of me. Little did she know that I was only 'temporary'. I tried to smile back warmly at Charlotte.

Charlotte seemed to be the 'before' version of Taylor, that is, before she asked me to be her temporary boyfriend and to shape her up to be my kind of girlfriend material.

Looking at the two of them, I started to see more and more similarities: eyes, nose, hair color, chin, bust, gestures, word choice and speaking pace and style, and more.

I finally asked, "Charlotte, you're younger than Taylor, but the similarities are striking."

She laughed, "I am younger, but only by about five minutes, according to mom. We're identical twins, not only sisters. Taylor used to lord it over me that she was so much older." She laughed.

"Ah, that explains so much of what I'm seeing and hearing from you both. She didn't share the 'twins' moniker with me."

Charlotte led us out the door to the short-term parking area. We stowed out bags in the back of her SUV, and then started driving. I was assigned shotgun because of my long legs.

Taylor asked, "Do you think mom or dad will be angry for the way I'm dressed or my new 'look'?"

Charlotte shook her head, "Not a bit. They'll be shocked, yes, but there are women in the city here that look like you do, but they are rare. You're definitely a big city girl and so sophisticated, and they probably expected as much when you went off to Boston."

Boston had yet to see snow that season, so I was happy to see the white stuff as we carefully drove towards the Reeve's home. Charlotte was a slow and cautious driver, which was fine with me.

We arrived just at six o'clock. I carried our two bags and followed the sisters into the house from where Charlotte parked. I heard the squeals of joy from her mother before I got to the open front door. The chants were much like what her sister had said to Taylor about her new 'look'.

I came in the door and shut it behind me; no sense heating the rest of the city. I stomped off the snow on my shoes in the small vestibule. Taylor was in the arms of an older woman alternately hugging her and then holding her at arms' length to take a closer look at her. In a far doorway, a man I assumed was Taylor's father looked on and studied his pretty daughter. We briefly had eye contact and nodded at each other, and at least he smiled slightly. He knew, more or less, who I was. My arrival at their home was expected and not a secret.

After about two minutes, I suddenly found myself in the spotlight. Taylor announced, "Mom and Dad, this is Josh, my boyfriend. We also work together."

I kind of bowed to the older couple and voiced my gratitude for them including me in their holiday celebration. I tried to exude politeness and kindness. Don threaded his way past the women and shook my hand. He pulled me into their living room, and the next I knew I had a local beer in my hand. The women were all talking at once, with obvious perfect comprehension of each other.

Don and I made small talk about our trip, what the airports had been like, and how lightly we traveled. He then dropped a bomb on me.

"Josh, since you and Taylor are boyfriend and girlfriend, we know what that's like these days, so we put you two in the same bedroom. If that's not all right, you let us know." He was smiling and obviously trying to be accommodating, and he gestured upstairs.

After a few seconds, I simply said, "That's fine. We don't want to impose the level of our relationship on anybody else if they're not comfortable with it." I thought that was diplomatic and would easily let him suggest otherwise.

My brain was already in high gear meeting my temporary girlfriend's parents and sister, but now it shifted into overdrive. I was thinking, what the fuck. Then I thought that there might be two twin beds in the room, and that would work to preserve our working relationship and the 'temporary' label.

When I got a brief tour of the house a few minutes later, the twin-bed idea nose-dived into oblivion. The room we'd be in, the guest room, held a queen-size bed. We'd be very cozy together. Further, I learned that it had been Taylor's room growing up, although it had been redecorated about two years earlier after she'd moved to Boston.

The five of us sat down to eat a light supper after another hour. The meal was informal since the emphasis was on the turkey and trimmings the next day. We had some sandwiches and soup. We were slow to eat, and overall, the meal was a thorough interrogation of both Taylor and me.

The topics discussed consisted of Taylor's new wardrobe and style, and the underlying rationale. She stated that she wanted to be appealing to me and feel better about herself. That also carried over to why she'd gone through the Lasik surgery. I was lucky, I thought, that she didn't mention that I'd paid for many her items of clothing as well as having her eyes done. I felt really good for having done that for her and didn't want the associated acclaim.

There was then a focus about our work and the investigative company that we worked for. Since we were not considered detectives or private investigators, we weren't as glamorous as we might have been or as others in the company. They were fascinated about how we took a name and perhaps a little information and a possible photo, and were able to find out about all there was to know about a person. They were further impressed that companies paid us large amounts of money to do that research.

I told the story about the executive applying for a job under an alias, and how with advanced technology and a sketchy photo, we were able to identify his real identity and then to even tie down the nasty reasons he'd been dismissed from two prior jobs.

The whole time we were chatting I was in turmoil about our impending bedtime. Taylor and I were on the sofa politely holding hands part of the time, but she looked relaxed and unstressed, whereas I felt as though our 'temporary' scheme was about to explode apart, and further that I was being put in a position where I would do something that wasn't in Taylor's best interests.

After about an hour, Charlotte got up and went into the kitchen with her cellphone in hand. She returned about five minutes later and announced, "I'm staying over. The roads are just too bad to travel tonight. Besides, if I stay, I'll be here first thing in the morning to help stuff the turkey and get it in the oven."

Her announcement removed my one slim hope of politely using the third bedroom upstairs, possibly on the excuse that I didn't want to upset the sensibilities of the house by being with Taylor, in her old bed, and leaving the impression that we were having sex. I wasn't sure how I would have stated that, but it had become a moot point by Charlotte's decision.

Faye, Taylor and Charlotte's mother, stood and spoke. Faye said, "Good. We should go to bed. We'll have to get up a little early to start the preparations and we should all get a goodnight's sleep." She and Don headed off to their bedroom on the first floor.

On the brief tour of the house that I'd been given, Don had pointed out that their master bedroom was on the first floor in a single-story extension off one part of the living room. There was also a small ensuite bath. Don had built the addition himself when the girls were little so that Faye and he could distance themselves from both their upstairs rooms and from the kitchen -- both apparently sources of noise and loud music as the girls grew. That isolation at least meant that the two upstairs rooms were relatively isolated in terms of sound from the twins' parents.

We all stood. I suggested that Charlotte go on 'up' so she could use the upstairs shared bathroom first before we came up to bed. That set well with her, and she left Taylor and me alone in the living room.

When we were alone, I said to Taylor in a low voice. "I am concerned about us needing to sleep together. Is there some other option I don't know about that can avoid that but still keep up the façade of being your boyfriend -- and a serious one, at that?"

Taylor leaned over and kissed me on the lips. "Nope. You're doomed to get into the bed with me, and if I have my way, we might have an interesting time together that will leave both of us breathless." She gave me a grin reeking in enthusiasm for what was to come. What followed was a very 'hot' kiss that I thought might have melted the snow outdoors.

I shook my head. "Taylor, I am no good for you. Look at me. I'm thirty-years-old and I have history of non-commitment. Every relationship that I've had has been short-term, and I've even gone out of my way to ensure that by long periods of time between dates with the same woman. That alone suggests that I have trust issues with women; make of that what you will.

"You see me as a charming and persuasive individual, but I usually hide my inner-most feelings and emotions. I'm not sure that I'm emotionally available for a serious relationship -- the kind of relationship that sex with you would suggest. Boyfriends shouldn't hold back from their girlfriends. As you can also tell, I hold my independence and personal freedom as a high priority.

"Further, my pattern of dating suggests that I will keep seeing multiple women, almost like I have a need for multiple sex partners. You don't want to be one of those women -- like a notch on my bedpost. I don't want to lead you on, and I certainly don't want you to have unrealistic expectations about where our role-playing may lead us.

I stepped back to see whether my remarks had any impact.

Taylor came forward and kissed me again. "I think that I know you better than you know yourself. I also have a few surprises up my sleeve that might reduce or eliminate some of your concerns. In any case, I'm a big girl, and I do know what I'm getting involved in with you. I am a very observant individual, and I have your number."

"But ... but ... sleeping together ...?"

"True, that might be awkward since we've never done that before, but there's no reason this can't be our first time." She thought for a second and added, "And, I hope it is."

"But Charlotte will be only a few feet away ... and your parents will be right down stairs. The walls are thin and sound carries." I gestured in the two directions where the others had gone.

Taylor shrugged. "They put us together -- the three of them. We are young, vital, and horny people. They know that. They're not dumb. They expect us to make love, and would be disappointed if we felt that we couldn't for any reason."

I did my eye roll thing. I also couldn't see any way out of this.

Taylor pulled me towards the stairs. "Charlotte is through in the bathroom. Let's go to bed."

We went up. She nudged me into the bath with my RON kit first, so I washed and did my going to bed things. Taylor went in after me.

I quickly stripped down to my underwear and got in bed. I pulled the covers up to my chin in hope that would discourage her.

Taylor came in the room, shut the door, and then proceeded to slowly remove every item of clothing that she was wearing. She seemed to sway to some tune only she could hear. It was a very sexy striptease. We had one light on the bedside table, and I watched every erotic move she made -- and she made a lot of them. Often, our eyes were locked together. She definitely wanted me to watch her.

God, I wanted Taylor. A second later, I feared for her safety and sanity if she and I made love, and I was trying to think of ways to stop her ... to stop myself from wanting her.

Taylor reminded me as she pulled back the covers from my hands, "You told me a couple of weeks ago that you sleep in the nude. Why are you wearing your underwear?"

I couldn't think of a good answer that I hadn't already stated. She came over and pulled my t-shirt over my head, and then I allowed her to removed my briefs. We were both naked and looking at each other's genitalia with great interest. Taylor's body was like a work of art -- sexual art that I wanted every piece of. I had a hard-on.

Before I could move or say anything, Taylor leaned over and took my cock in her mouth. I moaned, and then checked myself. The whole neighborhood could probably hear me. Taylor gave a muffled chuckle.

"Darling, your virginal mouth is doing far too much on my body part. I warn you that you might want to stop very soon, or else ..."

I hadn't finished the sentence when Taylor, came onto the bed, and immediately put her hips over mine. She took hold of my wet and very stiff shaft and steered the head to her vaginal opening. Then, in the blink of an eye, she shimmied down my shaft until my cock was completely embedded in her hot bod. Only God knows why I didn't explode into rainbows, unicorns, and confetti, and then yell out my joy. That's what I felt, and I almost did cum right away.

If I thought that I moaned loudly before, you should have heard me then. All of Rochester probably discerned what had just happened.

Taylor also moaned with me, and then fell into my arms. She kissed me over and over, and finally said in a rapid voice, "I can't hold back any more. Josh, I love you. I really love you. This is not sudden. I have had increasingly intense feelings for you over the past two years. Please ... just go with the flow here. Don't worry about anything but the here and now. My feelings are not to put pressure on your for anything other than what is right now -- right in this moment and nothing further."

I just nodded and pulled her to me for another passionate kiss. Our tongues dueled in the air between us. I loved her taste and she liked mine.

I applied every skill in lovemaking that I had accumulated over the years. I'd had some teachers that were insistent that I knew how to please them or any woman. That night, I wanted to use them all on Taylor.

I said to Taylor, "I need you to know that I am making love to the woman inside you, and not the one we created with new clothes and better eyes. You were special before I became our temporary boyfriend, and you're still special."

We kept sliding together and telling each other how great they were and how great our sex with each other felt. After we had both had our orgasms we lay there, side-by-side, panting yet trying to maximize the skin contact between us. Neither of us spoke but we were looking at each other in the dimly lit room.

After we'd calmed, I leaned over and kissed Taylor again, and she wrapped her body around me. She also took hold of my flaccid member and slowly stroked as we tried to kiss more. She started to go down on me again, but I stopped her.

Instead, I slid down the bed slowly, making love to Taylor's beautiful breasts, and then going even lower to her sex. She gasped as I started to love that part of her with all the sexually-pleasing ideas that I could think up or remember from my many past experiences.

Taylor gave the isolated lone moan this time. I was insistent that she cum, and when she did, I think the whole house knew again, even though she'd pulled our blanket to her mouth to muffle her vocal peak.

We made love again, and again, slept, and then did it again in the middle of the night.

Taylor and I both got 'looks' in the morning when we appeared for breakfast. Faye and Charlotte had already done the 'bird' and it was in the oven cooking. At different places in the kitchen, there were projects, each of which would complete as a side dish to go with the planned late afternoon Thanksgiving meal. Faye assigned me the job of peeling and chopping up two large butternut squash preparatory to the chunks being cooked and then mashed. Taylor was given the job of preparing a salad.

Everyone was polite, and apparently pretended they hadn't heard the many moans and groans of passion from our room. Taylor and I got over the need to keep blushing, too.

I also wondered just what each of the others thought about what had happened. I especially wondered about what Taylor's expectations were about many things: our relationship, what would happen in bed that night, and what would be said to other people.

Taylor and I had also forfeited a significant amount of sleep, in order to make love to each other a goodly portion of the night. If I was generous in my estimate, we accumulated no more than four hours of sleep. I felt a little draggy and thus, I drank more than my usual amount of coffee to jack up the caffeine in my system. I also ended up having to go to the bathroom an excessive amount.

Don rescued me from further kitchen work in late morning after some of the football games started on the television. I had no vested interest in either team, so, despite the heavy caffeine input, I promptly fell asleep. I apparently only woke up for the noisy touchdowns and their replays. I noted that Don also dozed on and off during the game.

The snow had stopped by mid-afternoon and the roads got plowed. Instead of lunch, Taylor pulled me out of my malaise and said we were borrowing some heavier coats and taking a walk around the neighborhood. I wasn't too sure about that; the outside temperature was ten degrees.

We started walking with our arms around each other, a nice gesture even given the multiple layers of clothing that we had on.

Taylor began to tease me as she had on the plane the day before. "I told you about Chad and me, but I had another encounter on Tuesday night when you through I was home packing for this trip. I was already packed."

"Hmmmm?" I offered, inviting her to say more.

"You've seen my building and know about the apartment layouts. Well, the one across the hall from me is occupied by another woman my age named Stephanie Gossman. Steph is a sharp dresser, like you have me dressing these days. She noticed my change and asked me about it, and I told her about my temporary boyfriend.