The Dirty Sheets

They soon found an empty enclosure, put Wilma's bag by the outside wall, and took their towels inside. Neither knew exactly what was about to happen, but both had thoughts and fantasies. They each knew why WI3 was for couples only and what happened when a couple got together at a couples-only spot. Those thoughts were there, but, as of now, they were only thoughts, and turning thoughts to reality was ... They laid the towels down, overlapping slightly and then lay down themselves, facing each other, now very close together. Neither was quite sure how to start whatever it was that was about to happen.

Eric was, at least for now, very satisfied just looking at Wilma, amazed at how pretty she was and that she was here with him. He'd never imagined himself with anyone who looked like she did—he was plain old Eric, and girls or women like her were out of his reach. Far out of his reach. So, he just drank in the view and tried to burn it into his memory, certain it was a one-time thing that he could fantasize about in the future. Yet, he was still hoping.

Wilma was gazing at Eric as well. He looked like he was visually swallowing every bit of her, and she was wondering about herself. He certainly didn't fit the mold of men she'd dated before, the few there's been for sure. There was just something about him. The story he'd told her, the way he had told it, that huge smile that seemed to tell her more about him and what he was like than any physical details could. But here she was, in a place where she'd never been, both physically and emotionally, and she was enjoying it.

As she began running her finger back and forth along his scar, he could see the fascination on her face. Plus, Eric seemed to be enjoying it as well; he was watching her hand move back and forth. Her touching him so gently was still beyond a dream, but she was, and he wasn't going to stop her.

He began gently caressing the arm that was caressing him. It was soft and very smooth, even with the sunscreen she had put on it. He moved up to her shoulder, then slowly down her side to her hip. His finger traced a line from her hip to her navel. It circled there for just a moment, then drifted down across her belly to an obviously carefully trimmed muff, dark, curly, and inviting. He watched her belly move up and down with her breathing and had to smile. He began to gently play with that curly hair, tugging softly on small tufts with his thumb and forefinger.

As his fingers had moved, so had hers, and her gentle touching had moved down his belly to where she had also found some curly hairs and began wrapping them around her fingers, ever so close to something she so wanted to touch but was willing to torment herself and him she was sure, just as he was doing to her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his hand move down over her mons, spread out and stay there, moving ever so slightly, then, as she had done not that long ago, his two fingers dipped inside of her as her hips moved to help him without her even willing it to happen. The fingers weren't leaving right away either as they gently explored, her hips moving in unison with his fingers. She realized she was holding onto those tufts of hair with her entire hand and hoped she wasn't hurting him.

She felt his fingers inside of her, just enough that she could know that he was there. When he pulled them out, the hand stayed right where it was as she felt his fingers moving up her cleft, very slowly. "He wouldn't," she thought and then, "why wouldn't he?" and finally, "he'd better." He did, and her body shuddered as the feeling raced through her from head to toe and her eyes closed. When she opened them, he was sucking on his fingers. She could see him looking at her, a very different look than she'd seen before. She knew he was thinking, and she could barely wait for what she knew he was thinking about actually to happen.

Not willing to torment herself any longer, she eagerly grasped his erection to a groaned "Oh, shit!" from him. He lay still while she gently stroked, smiling at him as she did.

With her still holding on, he was up on his knees and moving, and she knew where he was going. She reluctantly let loose. It certainly wasn't that she was a virgin or anything like that, but why was this seeming so different than anything else had been? No explanation came to her, but it didn't matter at all. She didn't want to think anyway, really wasn't able to either as he was spreading her and spreading her very wide. She knew he was looking, and she knew what he was seeing and, right then, she wanted to be seen, and she wanted even more than that. She felt his warm breath between her legs, and then his tongue hit that nub that she knew was a little bigger than a nub now, and that shuddering began again.

His tongue danced with just the right rhythm and pressure. Her mouth fell open as the sensations flooded her. All she could do was make gasps and moans; he had stolen her ability to speak. It was as if he could read her mind as his mouth danced against her. Shudders ran through her body with feelings she had never had before. It had been a long time since anything like this had happened to her and what she was experiencing was astounding and, seemingly in an instant, she had totally lost control of her body.

Time was standing still—everything was standing still, except that tongue that was moving ever faster. Something inside of her was building and building, and there was pressure, an intensity than she had needed for a long time, that he was giving her. His tongue was flicking away, and when his lips closed on that clit and began pulling on it with the tongue rubbing in unison with the pulling, she couldn't contain it any longer.

The orgasm started where his tongue and lips were working and instantly spread, her entire being vibrating, spasms shaking her with an ecstasy she had nearly forgotten, her body arching, pressing against him, her moans telling him what she was feeling even though they could barely penetrate her consciousness. Then slowly, she was returning to a euphoric but vaguely conscious state and was already hoping she might experience this again sometime. And soon.

She opened her eyes to that wonderful grin that had started this whole thing. She only wanted to do one thing, to do what he had done to her, to make him feel as she had felt, and she began to move in that direction, but he held her down. A puzzled look went his direction.

"That would be more than wonderful," he said, putting his finger to her lips. "MORE than wonderful," he emphasized. "But I know myself and, even though it would be probably the best feeling I have ever felt, I want something else. And to be sure that happens, I'm going to stop you... "

"Oh no, you're not," she interrupted, moving his hand and pushing him backward. Her mouth closed on his cock, and her head began moving up and down. She could tell from his reaction that what he had said before was true. His long, guttural groans were telling more than any words could. In just a moment, though, he had her shoulders and was pulling her up, off of him.

"Oh shit, not yet," he grunted out. "Not yet." Gently he pushed her onto her back.

He waited for her to stop him, but her look told him just the opposite, so he moved up until his face was above hers, and she quickly could feel something pushing against her pussy. She wasn't going to argue with him as she wanted what he wanted and probably even more if that was possible. She opened to him and felt him bumping against her, then pressing even harder until something was parting her lips and pushing inside. It was a phenomenal feeling as he slipped inside her, very slowly, definitely there, filling her as he moved. She opened her eyes, and he was there, above her, and locked with her eyes as he was pressing again, ever so gently sliding further and deeper inside until finally he stilled.

He didn't say anything, just had the most pleased look that she could imagine as he began to move, very slowly, in and out and in and out, gaining momentum as he moved. She began moving with him, lifting her hips as he moved in and backing off as he pulled out. She had wanted him in her mouth, had actually done that, but this was so much better.

His eyes bore into hers unashamedly; for the first time, she felt truly herself, no embarrassment at how she liked to be watched. With this man, she not only felt comfortable at being naked but letting her soul be naked too. The intensity made her want to close her eyes and hide, but this just felt right; she felt complete.

She pulled his head down toward her and kissed him, their lips touching for the first time, her tongue pressing against his lips until they parted and let her in. His teeth bit down lightly as his lips surrounded her tongue, his tongue fondling hers ever so gently. She wanted him right where he was, to hear his groaning, to have the intensity that was gripping her entire body to stay there, become a part of her as she wanted him to become a part of her. She opened her eyes and saw his, just inches from hers, still just drinking her in. Before she even knew it, his face was against her neck, and she could feel his lips working and sucking, getting ready for what was about to happen.

"You smell fantastic."

She could barely hear the muffled words and knew it was the Calvin Klein's Escape at work. She reached out and pulled his face in front of her.

"Is this good?" she said hoarsely to that face. Her legs swung up around his waist, and she locked her ankles behind him, binding the two of them together, the unison movements growing in fervency until the look on his face told her he was going over the edge.

There was no way he could hold back with her words, her look, and those locked legs and, despite his also wanting it to last forever, he felt his body taking control from his brain, both within himself and inside her, and he was pumping out ropes and ropes of hot liquid there for what seemed both forever and way too short a time. Breathless and totally at peace, once more, he opened his eyes, and it was her turn to smile.

"Who are you?" he gasped. And when she didn't say anything, "One fantastic lady," he answered his own question, still not quite able to wrap his frenzied mind around the fact of what had just happened with this very beautiful and very willing lady.

She wasn't totally sure what had just happened either since she knew what she had expected when she'd left home this morning. But that wasn't what today had become. Not by a long shot. It was unbelievable while at the same time being real. She could see him hovering over her and could feel him still inside of her, so she knew it was real, even if a bit unimaginable.

He was smiling at her again, and it was gripping her like it had done all day.

"You know what that smile does to me, don't you?" she teased.

"If that's what caused this, then you'll be seeing it a lot." He'd smiled at girls and women before, but never with this result.

She pulled his face down and kissed him.

"You're just so beautiful and . . . ," he said, gazing at her so intently she felt her heart tingle just the tiniest bit.

She knew where the "and" was taking him but didn't say anything.

"You know," he said, recovering from the kiss, "we haven't started out like most people who are meeting for the first time."

A puzzled look from her.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

She smiled, watching his eyes as she thought about what to answer. A strange question for this moment, but somehow very intimate given what had just happened.

She decided to be totally honest and say what she actually did for a living.

"I'm Vice President of Operations at Wayland Industries," she said very directly.

Startled, she had never seen a very wonderful expression change so quickly. "What's wrong?" she said.

He took a deep breath and looked away from her eyes. "Shit," was his quiet reply.

"What, what?" she asked urgently. What had happened that she didn't understand? She could almost feel his erection shrinking inside her, and he wouldn't look at her. "Look at me," she exclaimed. But he didn't. He seemed to want to move away from her, but quickly her arms held him in place.

Slowly his head turned, and he did look at her, shaking his head. "Last Monday, I started as the Manager of Industrial Engineering at Wayland Industries."

"Oh god," she said quietly. Usually, she would have seen his resume, but she had been out of town last week and hadn't gotten the chance. "I'm supposed to meet you Monday."

"But wait," he said suddenly. I saw your signature on a paper, or someone's who's a VP, and it wasn't Wilma. It started with an L, I think. Laura?"

"Lisa," she answered softly. "Wilma is my middle name." She tried to smile at him.

He was having none of her smile. "I'm in deep shit," was all he could say.

Quickly her hands were on his cheeks, and she was holding his head, so he was forced to look at her. He looked like he was about to die. "Listen to me," she said sternly, "and listen carefully." No change in his expression. "On Monday, Jimmy will bring you in to meet me, and you will meet me for the first time as VP of Operations. We will exchange niceties and then we'll see each other again at the ten o'clock meeting that you'll be involved in. Then, we may see each other during the rest of the week, and we'll smile and say hi to each other.

"Now, here's the important part." She shook his head gently, so she was sure he was listening carefully. She spoke very slowly, emphasizing each word. "Next Saturday, I will be at WI2 at the exact spot where we were today. And YOU'LL be there, too. Vice President Lisa is not Saturday Wilma, whose brains you've just screwed out and made her feel things she never thought were possible. You got that?" Her eyes bored into his relentlessly.

Again, he could hardly breathe. He'd heard what she said but still. "Got it," he said, "even though I don't understand it at all."

"We'll work on the understanding part. Most important now is doing just what I've said."

She slowly rolled him off her, snugged up the ponytail one more time, and slid down his body. She held his very relaxed penis in her hand. She wouldn't have been surprised if he tried to push her away, but he didn't fight her at all and was looking at her with an incredulous expression that just made her want to kiss him. So, she did. He wasn't smiling yet, but neither did he look like he was about to die as he had just moments before.

Even though she had actually not done what she was about to do too often, and being sure it wasn't her strongest suit, she let her mouth take over and allowed it to work on him in ways she never had before thought to try. The results were amazingly satisfying, too, as, no matter what was in his mind, his cock was responding to her lips and tongue and was growing, as she hoped it would. She could hear his breathing intensify, and it inspired her to work even harder. She kept it up, and soon she heard what she wanted to hear.

"Oh shit, I'm going to come." His body arched, and he was expecting her to let loose and her hand to come into play. That didn't happen, and there was no way for him to stop to question it anyway. It had been building, and now it just burst, and again, he was pumping out that milky liquid, only this time it was into her mouth. When the euphoria that had overwhelmed him had finally passed, his eyes opened. She was looking at him, and she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, which held most of what he had just shot into her mouth. She closed that mouth, and when she opened it again, it was empty.

She certainly had never done that before, and she was amazed at herself for doing it this time. At least she was sure that he would believe all those things she had just said to him. That was what she truly wanted, more than anything at this moment.

He put his hand behind her head and pulled her to his chest, squeezing her tightly against him.

"Hell of a day," he said into her hair. "I don't pretend to understand any of it either." Looking down at her lying against him, he could see the sheen of perspiration nearly covering every inch of her body. That and the sunscreen, with the sun overhead, made her glisten like dew on gossamer in the early morning, delicate and fragile but delightfully enticing.

"I can hear your heart beating," she said softly.

"It's sure as hell never beat this hard before," he replied. He gently began loosening the band around her ponytail, finally releasing it and letting her hair fall about her shoulders. He nuzzled his face against the hair, even taking some of it in his mouth. He wanted to see, touch and taste everything there was of her. And that scent that was so seeming to define her was invading his nose relentlessly, and he had to ask. "What is it?" he said, pushing his face against her neck and pressing the aroma into his memory.

"Escape," was her answer.

"It's you, and I'll never forget it," he said. "That and you are embedded in my brain, and I hope I can contain myself on Monday." Fingers twined in her hair, he lifted her head, kissing her forehead, her nose, and then those delectable lips.

"Oh, don't worry," she giggled out once the kiss was broken and as she sensed he had accepted what she had said. "You will, and so will I. Now, let me put my ponytail back together, and then we'll jump in the ocean for a while. I'm hot as hell." As she said that, she turned her face toward him and licked the lips he had just kissed.

He already knew she was hot as hell, and it had nothing at all to do with temperature.

He watched her pull her hair together, then snug it up with the elastic band. She pulled hard to make sure it was secure. They drank their water and ate the slightly soft Reese's cups, then headed to the ocean where Wilma stroked out into the deeper water, padded there a while, and then back to him. Eric preferred water that stayed below his hips as he had never learned to swim that well.

Monday morning came, and Eric switched off the alarm clock well before it rang—he had been awake for quite a while. No matter what Wilma or Lisa had said, Sunday had been, well, fairly awful. Actually, very awful. He had been introduced to Lisa at least a thousand times in his mind, none of those times meeting her seemed satisfactory as his mind wouldn't let them be. Now the time was almost here, and nothing had gotten any better.

He dressed carefully, digging through his underwear drawer where, underneath his boxers, he knew he had a couple of pairs of "tighty-whities," which he thought might be a better choice for today, not knowing what his reactions might be. He decided a jockstrap might be overkill. A nice yellow dress shirt, tan khaki slacks, maybe his casual tan shoes would complete his look. Why was he concerned about shoes -- that was the least of his worries right now. He was even fretting about whether or not he should be worried. She hadn't made it sound like he should be. He was going in circles that never seemed to end. He stood in the kitchen for long minutes but decided there was no way his stomach would accept any food—nothing to do but head to work.

He did go by a Tim Horton's drive-through for some coffee, his favorite double-double since he had left long before he usually did if five days of doing it could be called usual. He thought he probably should stop at Eddie's Corner Bar for a double, rather than the double-double he had gotten. He was a mess, despite Wilma's assuring him that all would be fine and there was no problem. She didn't seem upset or worried at all. But it wasn't Wilma who had screwed her boss's boss ... twice.