tagLoving WivesThe Bar and Grill Pt. 04

The Bar and Grill Pt. 04


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here it is, the fourth and final part of The Bar and Grill. Thanks to everyone for bearing with me as this got written and posted. In my defense, though, I haven't kept you waiting as long as DanielQSteele has for "When We Were Married." (Really, DQS, will you please hurry up? We're dying out here waiting to find out what the hell happens next!) Then again, this story is neither as long, complex, nor emotionally packed as DQS's masterpiece, so I should note that it wasn't particularly difficult to write.

If you haven't figured out yet by my comment on the first part, this is based on true people and true events. Truth be told, it's based on me. I'm Tim. Sure, I've changed some things here and there--most notably my profession because I wanted to write something more quirky and original than my previous efforts--and I've embellished, added, or deleted facts in numerous places to heighten the drama or humor or, most often, the flow of the story. Still, Tim was me. (HarryinVA, don't feel bad for saying in your comment to part 1 that you hate me; I'll admit I was a dumb ass for much of my life, and the residuals are still there for all to see to this very day.) I'll leave it to the reader to figure out what happened and what didn't in real life, but ninety percent of this is true. That's also why it was so easy to write.

I hope you've all enjoyed reading this, and now you probably all understand a little better why I'm as fucked up as I am.

In closing, I ask that you all take a moment to comment on the story. Comment on whatever you want: The writing, how much you hated the continuous use of recipes, which characters you liked and disliked, how horrible my own choices in life are. I'd really appreciate your feedback, even if it is just to call me a pathetic wimp.


By the next morning, the county cops had heard about Randy's arrest, and they filled Moss in on all the other sightings. It was thin, they agreed, but Moss decided to go ahead and draw up separate complaints on each time Randy had been parking outside our house and a final complaint for felony stalking. All told, I signed almost two dozen separate complaints, and Moss told me bail would be set high.

All told, I was in an amazingly good mood by the time I returned home at about nine. Both of us had the weekend off, and I was looking forward to making a big breakfast for Nicole, Alistair, and me before spending the day outside getting the landscaping beds cleaned and prepped for the Spring that was now falling upon us.

When I walked in the door, I heard the shower shut off in the hallway bathroom. Good, I though, Nicole is up.

I went into the kitchen to get going on breakfast when I saw Ernie trot past me down the hall and toward the bathroom. I watched him, smiling. He sure had taken a shining to our new roommates, Nicole almost as much as Alistair.

Getting to the door, Ernie scratched at and pawed the door, trying to get Nicole to let him in. She hadn't closed the door all the way, though, and I smiled as the door slowly swung open. Cold pug nose on wet, bare skin had often made for an early morning shocker in my life.

The door swung all the way open, though, and my smile quickly changed. Nicole was standing in front of the mirror. Brushing her long wet hair. Totally naked.

I watched her reflection in the mirror. The long slow strokes of the brush down her hair, her proud, upturned breasts--little more than a handful but shaped as if by a master sculptor--her flat, taut belly flaring to her slightly jutting hipbones, the bubble of her perfect ass rising. And her mons. Shaved bare, completely without hair. I'd never seen one shaved all the way, at least not outside a porno flick.

When my eyes traveled back up her body, though, my wonderment turned to horror. Her biceps were a mass of dark bruises where Randy had held her. He'd really been gripping hard, I realized, and I was amazed she'd not been crumpled at his feet the night before.

I took all of this in in little more than a few seconds, but I couldn't look away from her arms. Then Ernie's nose got to her, and I saw her jerk and look down. My eyes went from her arms to her face in the mirror, and she looked up and saw my reflection staring at her.

Her face remained a mask, staring evenly back at me for a moment before reaching over and closing the door.

I stood there for a moment, embarrassed. Then I did what I did best. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out the ingredients for French Toast and French omelettes with gruyere cheese and fresh chives.

Fifteen minutes later, Nicole walked into the kitchen, fully dressed in jeans and an old sweater, her hair still wet. Alistair was in her arms, slung across a hip with his face buried in her wet hair, and Ernie was trotting dutifully behind.

"Breakfast?" I said.

"Smells good," she replied, smiling. "French toast?" she said to Alistair. His face remained in her hair, but his sleepy head nodded.

I didn't know what to say about seeing her. I was embarrassed, ashamed, worried. Hell, let's face it, I didn't really know what I was.

Nicole seemed to sense this, and her reaction was strange. She was neither quiet nor boisterous. Rather, she just acted like nothing had happened. Like it was no big deal and I shouldn't be so pensive about it.

But I was.


A half hour later, I was in the front landscaping beds raking leaves from the mulch.

"Want some help?" Nicole said.

I stopped and turned. She was in a stocking cap, old tennis shoes, light jacket over the sweater, and had gloves on her hands.

I smiled. "Outside work's my responsibility, remember?"

"Yeah," she said, "but the house is already clean, laundry's going, and the dishes are done. Alistair's watching cartoons with Ernie, and I'm bored."

I looked at her for a moment. She seemed amused, her eyes dancing and a smile playing at her lips.

"Jesus, Tim," she said. "You act like you've never seen a girl naked before."

My eyes went wide and I felt the blush creeping over me. She laughed.

"You're embarrassed," she taunted.

"Well I . . . it wasn't . . . I didn't mean to-- "

"What?" she teased. "You think I'm afraid you've taught Ernie to go opening doors so you can catch your peek? I mean, I can just picture it. 'Ernie,'" she whispered, a hand cupped to her mouth. "'Quick. She's in the bathroom. Get over there and open it up and let's see what she's got.'"

Nicole was laughing so hard by the end of that she was snorting. It was infectious, and I started laughing with her. She'd never much shown a sense of humor, and I'd definitely never seen her laugh this hard. And I realized that, for the first time since I'd known her, her defenses were totally down. It was like I was seeing the real Nicole for the first time, the Nicole from before her husband was murdered and her boyfriend had put her through months of terror and hell.

I couldn't take my eyes off her as our laughing died down.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Just never seen you like this before," I said, turning back to raking leaves.

She scooped a pile of leaves into the wheelbarrow.

"Like what?" she said.

"So happy. Playful. You know."

She didn't say anything, just kept piling leaves into the wheelbarrow, pressing them down as she did so.

"You okay after last night?" I said. "I mean, I saw the bruises."

"Yeah," she said. "I'm good. The bruises aren't really that bad."

"And everything else?"

She only nodded, but the peaceful look didn't leave her face. Not a smile, mind you, but not the usual silent mask, either. She seemed content.

We worked in silence for a couple of hours, Nicole bopping back into the house now and again to check on Alistair. The chilly, damp day was exhilarating, and it was relaxing being outside for so long after a winter stuck inside. Unfortunately, it also got us both to do more physical labor than either of us had done in months, and we were wiped out by the time the work was all done.

"Swear to God," I said to her as we put the rakes and wheelbarrow away, "I may need a nap."

"Me, too," she agreed. Then she raised her eyebrow at me.

"What?" I said.

She only smiled, then shook her head. "Nothing. Just thinking of something."

"Thinking of what?"

Then she started giggling.

"Tell me," I insisted, pleased her mood was lasting.

She only shook her head, her giggling going on.

"I'm going to tickle you if you don't," I warned, stepping toward her and reaching to her ribs.

She tried to block me by pulling her arms in, but she was unsuccessful as I rubbed my fingertips over her ribs.

"I'll tell you," she said, backing away with a shriek.

"I'm waiting," I pressed.

Nicole tried to stop her giggles, looking at me and trying to keep a straight face. Then her eyes roamed from my face down my body and back up again, and her giggles started anew.

"C'mon, what's so funny here?" I said, stepping toward her again.

"It's what Jennifer said," she shriek, covering her ribs with her arms.


"That girl you dated," she said.

"What did Jenny say?"

"We were talking last week. I was her waitress. Her's and Jammer's. They were out to dinner together. He was asking her what was so special about you, why she couldn't get you out of her mind."

"Okay," I said, waving my hand for her to continue.

"Well, she saw me standing there waiting for their order, and she invited me to sit down with them. 'Ask her,' she said to Jammer, but I didn't know what she was talking about. 'Tell Jammer what Tim's like in the sack,' she said. I laughed and told her I didn't know. It wasn't--we weren't, aren't--like that."

I nodded, feeling my face flush as she spoke. I knew where this was going.

"So she gave you details, right?" I said.

Nicole nodded, her giggling starting again.

"A lot of details," she confirmed.

I was . . . . Hell, I didn't know what I was. Angry, embarrassed, upset, pissed at Jenny for shooting her mouth off and at Nicole for teasing me about it. Was I really that bad in the sack?

I had to get away from her, and I fled into the house and into the bedroom.

"Tim," Nicole cried out behind me, "it's not like that. Really."

But I was in my bedroom with the door closed behind me before she could catch up.

I sat there, confused. Why should it matter? I thought.

Because I liked her, that's why. Because I was falling in love with Nicole, and I didn't want her to laugh when she thought about being with me. And now Jenny had betrayed me. Whether intentional or not--and I couldn't believe she'd done it intentionally--she'd said enough so that Nicole laughed at the very notion of going to bed with me.

After five minutes of sitting on the bed, I stood and moved toward the master bathroom and the hot shower I needed to relax and clean up.

I was in the shower, feeling the water cascading down, when I saw her shadow outside the frosted shower door.

"Nicole?" I said.

"I didn't mean anything by it," she said.

I saw the shower door start to slide open.

"Nicole," I warned, placing my hand on the handle to keep the door shut.

"You got to see me," she said.

"Yeah, but that was-- "

"It's only fair," she interrupted, her voice gleeful and the pressure still trying to slide the door open.

"Give me a minute," I said. "Let me finish first, okay?"


"It'll be a few minutes," I continued, feeling the pressure leave the door. "I still haven't soaped up yet."

"Okay," she said.

The pressure on the door was gone, and I reached for the shampoo and lathered some in my hair.

Then I felt a breeze shiver over my body and turned to the shower door.

"I thought I'd help you," Nicole said, stepping into the shower. Her cool hands pressed against my chest. "Soap up, that is."

She looked into my eyes as the water cascaded over us.

"You think this is a good idea?" I said.

"Yes," she replied, leaning in to kiss me.

Our lips met, wet and soft and hungry. In a flash, I was harder than a rock, and she pressed herself into me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, and her hips pushed into mine. With one hand, she held the back of my neck and with the other she pulled my lower back closer to her smooth, taut body.

The kiss was soft and slow, and I let her set the pace. After a moment of brushing her lips around mine, I felt her lips part and her tongue seek mine. I responded, our kiss building as I reached my arms around her and stroked the smooth skin of her wet back.

She broke the kiss and laid her cheek on my shoulder, our hands sliding over each other's body.

"She said you were the best she's ever had," Jenny murmured, tracing a fingernail up my spine as I massaged between her shoulders.

"Then why was it so funny?" I said.

"Just picturing it, I guess."

I said nothing. She was holding back, but I didn't know why.

"And how specific did she get?"

Nicole chuckled into my shoulder blade. "Very."

"Uh huh," I said.

My right hand snaked around the front and brushed over Nicole's breast, lightly past her nipple. She shivered.

"And you thought you'd give it a try?" I asked.

She turned her head back to face me, a smile on her lips.

"That's what I was hoping." Her face got earnest. "Hoping for quite awhile now."

"And if Alistair walks in?"

"Napping with Ernie. Just put them to bed."

"So you've got this planned out," I said, now palming her breast with my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

A look of pleasure swept her features, then she nodded and leaned in to kiss me again.

"Okay," I mumbled through the kiss. "But I don't have any . . . ."

"The pill," she mumbled back. "It's pretty safe."

So we got down to cleaning each other up. In very intimate detail.

I've long been convinced that there's a difference between naked and nekkid. The former is when you're in the shower, the latter when you're in the shower with someone else doing naughty things. We'd started out naked, and it stayed naked for a long time as we stroked and massaged and kissed. But then it turned to nekkid when I rubbed the soap into the washrag and began to get really intimate. She was content to use the soap without the wash cloth, and I appreciated her decision when she made sure my cock was clean as a whistle.

"You know what I want to do?" she said.

I shook my head as I rubbed the washcloth down her back and toward the crack in her amazing ass.

"I want to wash you everywhere I want to taste you." Here eyes had a gleam as she said this, stroking my cock with one hand while soaping up my balls with the other.

"Sounds like a good idea," I said.

"So you know where my lips and tongue are going to be before they get there, okay?" she continued.

"And turnabout's fair play?" I asked.

She nodded, then looked down at her hands.

I soaped up my free hand and moved it to her breasts, taking my time as I soaped them up. I squeezed her breasts and nipples, and her eyes moved to my hand as her faint pink nipples grew in my hand. With the other hand, I moved the washcloth over her stomach and hips, rubbing slowly.

"Ditch the washcloth," she whispered.

I did, rubbing the soap over her breasts and torso with my bare hands, enjoying the feeling of her smooth, slick skin and tight, hot body against me.

She leaned in and kissed the base of my neck, and I felt her hand leave my cock and go around to my ass, squeezing and sliding. It felt good, and I slid one of my hands back to her amazing ass, ready to burst at the sensations.

"I like your ass," she said through her kisses. I felt a fingertip tracing down the crack between cheeks, slowly.

I tensed as she got closer, and I decided to give her some of the same. My fingertip began its own journey down the crack of Nicole's ass, and I felt her hot breath increasing against my neck.

My other hand moved down her stomach and cupped her mons. The feeling of her slick, shaven pussy was like no sensation I'd felt. Well, no sensation I'd felt, that it, until my finger traced down a little further to the furrow at the top of her lips. Her clit was hard and her pussy was on fire, wet and hot.

Her breathing increased against my neck and I felt her hand on my ass pressing downward and against my clenched opening.

"You ever been kissed there?" she whispered, pressing around the knot.

My breathing was now increasing, as well, and I couldn't answer through the sensations.

Instead, I started rubbing my finger over and around her clit while my other hand sought out her backside.

"Are you going to kiss me everywhere?" she said as I circled her rosebud and clit with my fingers.

"Yes," I gasped. "If you'll let me."

Then her lips were again on mine as she pulled my ass into her. Her breath was coming in gulps, and I kept circling her with my fingers.

"Let's get out of here," she urged between kisses. "The bed."

I slammed off the water and slid the door open as fast as I could, stepping onto the shower rug and pulling her out with me. Then she was back in my arms again, all slippery and hot and frantic. I lowered my mouth to her breasts and sucked in her nipples, and her hands went to the back of my head to keep me there.

I knew what I wanted to do, and I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. I lowered her to the bed, my mouth now traveling over the hollow at the base of her neck.

"Like this," I said, breaking from her and turning her over before pulling her legs off the bed.

She didn't fight me as I maneuvered her. Her arms were flayed out above her head, her face turned to the side and framed by her hair spilling all around her head.

I went to my knees at the base of the bed and, with my hands, spread her legs and leaned in, kissing her inner thighs as my hands went to her ass and kneaded that perfect, pouty posterior.

"You like my ass, don't you," she gasped as my tongue got closer and closer to her core.

"I love your ass," I corrected her.

"You're always looking at it," she whispered through her panting.

She gasped as I ran my tongue the length of her slit. Enough talking, woman!

"That's so good," she murmured as my tongue traveled up and down her length, softly and slowly.

Then my lips and tongue kissed, licked, and gently bit the firm, perfect globes of her ass. Her moaning increased with the hunger of my attention, and I pried her ass cheeks apart with my hands, seeing the crinkled knot of her anus in front of me. Oh well, she'd said so long as I cleaned it for her, I thought, tracing my tongue toward it.

She gasped, her hips twitching, as the tip of my tongue brushed over the tiny furrowed ridges of her rosebud, the knot clenching and unclenching. She groaned, not turned off by my actions. Rather, her hips started a gentle roll, her undulations driving her ass harder then softer on my tongue.

My hand found its way to her pussy. My fingertips teased up and down her puffy lips before a finger eased slowly into her opening. My thumb brushed lower, finding and then circling her clit as my tongue lashed at her ass and my finger felt around the walls of her pussy.

Without warning, Nicole groaned and her hips pushed back on my assault, her ass unclenching as she did so. I felt my tongue sink in--just the tip, tasting a musky soapiness--and her groan increased as her hips started rolling faster. I stayed unmoving, allowing her to fuck herself against my tongue and finger, and her quickening breath told me it was the right move.

Then her body went rigid, clenching on me, as a long "Uhhhh" escaped Nicole's lips. In response, my tongue left that perfect ass and went to her clit, circling and sucking on the engorged flesh and drawing out her orgasm.

After nearly a minute, her orgasm complete, Nicole went limp. I brushed my tongue away from her wet, puffy lips and kissed her inner thighs.

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