The Extremely Full Monty Ch. 02

I had never done anal before. Thinking it could be a fun new experience, I mentally filed the image away and moved my cock to her pussy. I spread her lips and rammed her in one motion. Kathleen cried out, and I began thrusting with all my might. The view of her elegant back and smooth, round ass drove my mind that powered my cock. I reached a point where I was thinking more about my own orgasm than if I were pleasing Kathleen. She kept making noises, but nothing sounded like a complaint.

With a firm grasp of her hips, I went as fast as I could and felt my release building. I was seconds from exploding when Kathleen called out. "Slap my ass. Do it hard."

I reacted and brought my hand sharply down on her bottom. The red mark only stoked my desire. I added two more slaps and then I could hold back no longer. I pushed so hard that Kathleen fell flat onto the bed. I kept thrusting into her as she struggled underneath me. When I was totally spent, I pulled away and lay on my back beside her.

"Holy shit, Robbie," she said. "Now that is what I call a good fuck. I'm wasted."

I softly stroked the cheeks I had hit. "Hope I didn't get too carried away."

Kathleen moved over to rest her head on my chest as her leg fell between my thighs. "No. I wanted it. It made it so, so intense. Thank you, Robbie."

"Thank you, Kathleen."

As we drifted into post-coital bliss, I wondered if Jim could make her feel this way.

After our nap, and to my complete amazement, Kathleen initiated another round of lovemaking. That I could respond was bordering on a miracle. I would probably have to soak my cock in ice afterwards, but right now both he and I were in sex heaven.

Kathleen declined the offer to stay for dinner. She had things to do at her apartment. We committed to talking during the week. I knew her plans with Jim would no doubt preclude us getting together next weekend. Little did I know how long this hiatus would last.

***

Monday morning I received a call from my healthcare client. They wanted to move ahead on the substantial capital campaign. They agreed to the general terms of a contract and I drew it up and emailed it by the end of the day. We completed the deal by Wednesday. I agreed to be on site three days a week for the next twenty-seven weeks. I had a couple other clients that would eat up the rest of my time.

On Friday, I called Kathleen to tell her I would be out of town quite a bit for the next several months.

"Robbie, that sucks," she said. "I mean, I'm happy you got the contract, but what if another bat invades my house?"

We had come to use the "bat in the house" language for our personal code of having sex. Knowing that I would not be sharing a bed with her took away any feelings of elation over the new client.

"Well, Jim can always help."

"Robbie, that's not what I meant. I will miss you. You will be coming home on weekends, right?"

"Mostly, but some weeks it may be easier to stay in Stamford, depending on what meetings I have with prospects and things like that."

"Hey, you'll only be less than an hour away from Mom. You could always go over there for a home-cooked meal," she said with a laugh. "That is, if you cook it yourself. Mom is not what we call a culinary superstar. Thank god, Adelaide, learned how to cook."

Kathleen had told me about her older sister, Adelaide. She was three years her senior and learned how to cook when Virginia's attempts always turned out to be burned lumps of indescribable and inedible mysteries. It seems Virginia's interests ran to community activism and writing poetry. She was an attentive and supportive mother, but refused to be pigeon-holed into a traditional role. She didn't enjoy cooking or cleaning and saw no need to change her priorities.

Kathleen said her father was a saint. He did all the cleaning and indulged her mother in every way. She described them as the two most in love people she had ever known.

Adelaide lived between Stamford and her mother's home. She monitored her mother and took her three kids over to visit often. Having grandchildren close by took a lot of pressure off Kathleen, who admitted she probably would never have children.

Kathleen and I agreed to talk at least once a week. We would try to see each other on a weekend if our schedules meshed. I had a feeling our sexual relationship was destined to be short-lived. I hoped to keep her as a friend because I enjoyed her company and found I could talk to her like no other friend.

I arrived in Stamford the next week. After meeting with the board of directors of the hospital system, I met privately with the president and chair of the board. I asked them for advice on finding a small, furnished apartment that would serve my needs. The chair, CEO of a regional insurance agency, offered me her carriage house.

"We had it done over into a sort of mother-in-law apartment," she said. With a grimace, she added, "Not that I relished the thought of my mother-in-law actually living with us. The bad news was that she broke her hip and moved into a continuous care community. The good news is the carriage house is empty. Jonathon and I would be delighted to have you stay there. And, as part of our contribution to the campaign, we won't charge rent. Truth be told, with our children scattered about the world, it would be good to have someone around. Jonathon travels a lot and knowing that you were there would be a comfort."

With that detail settled, I spent the rest of the week setting up an office in the executive wing of the hospital. I would need a full-time assistant and the president, Elizabeth Wagner, said that one of her vice-presidents just retired. They were reorganizing senior administration and that resulted in one administrative assistant position needing to be eliminated. She asked if I would interview the person they reluctantly were going to have to let go.

I met with her the next day and hired her immediately. Corrine Cusson was twenty-nine, had a bachelor's degree in communication from Fairfield University, and liked working in the hospital. She had hoped to move into more of a true communications position after getting her foot in the door. She was bright and had a positive disposition. I thought she would be perfect and that this could be a step that might help her move into management.

I told Corrine what I needed, and she jumped on it. She assured me the office would be ready for business when I returned the following week. Having finished my work by Wednesday afternoon, I called on some past clients in New York City before heading back to New Hampshire.

On the train Thursday morning, I called Kathleen at work. She seemed happy to hear from me and I filled her in on my activities. I told her I would probably stay in the City over the weekend. I offered to fly her down if she wanted to take in a show or just have some fun.

"God, Robbie, that sounds great, but I have a date with Jim this weekend. Let's make it another time."

As my heart sank, I tried to put an upbeat face on my disappointment. "No problem. We can plan something for another time. Have a good time this weekend," I said. "But, try not to have too good a time," I added, hoping she could hear the humor.

"Robbie, you're a dear. I look forward to seeing you soon." We said our goodbyes and hung up. I noticed she never answered my suggestion that she not have too much of a good time. Hell, if I were this Jim, I would never let her get out of bed the entire weekend.

The weekend worked out well. I met with an old Dartmouth alum who invited me to his "cottage" on the Island. There were several other guests there, and I had a pleasant visit. It turned out that my friend's neighbor owned a factory close to Stamford and used my client's facilities for healthcare services for his employees. We agreed to meet at his manufacturing facility in a couple of weeks to discuss a major contribution to the capital campaign.

I was in my new office early Monday morning, and pleased to see that Corinne had everything up and running. My first priority was conducting one-on-one interviews with members of the board and senior administration. Corinne and I spent about an hour working on a proposed schedule, and she went about making the appointments.

I occupied myself with writing the case statement and working on a detailed timetable for our campaign. By the end of the day, we had made progress. Corinne impressed me with efficiency. I pulled into the driveway of my host's home around six. Daphne must have heard me approaching and was walking toward my car as I pulled up to the carriage house.

"Robbie, how are you?"

"Made a lot of progress today. How are you?"

"Wonderful," she said with a smile. "Spent the day beating up my sales staff. I was just about to relax with an obscenely generous drink. Care to join me?"

"Let me take my bags inside and freshen up. I'll come over in a half hour."

A little later than promised, I walked around the back of Daphne's massive house to find her sitting on the brick patio. I could smell meat cooking on the grill that was part of the outdoor kitchen. Daphne was wearing white shorts and a blue polo shirt.

"Gin and tonic?"

"Sounds perfect," I answered.

She fixed it, refilled her glass, and brought me my drink. We toasted and sat at the round glass table.

"Hope I'm not being presumptuous," she said, "but I tossed a couple steaks on thinking you probably hadn't eaten. There's Caesar salad and a pasta salad. I picked them up at the deli on the way home. You will join me?"

"Be delighted, Daphne. Is Jonathon home?"

"Gone to Abu Dhabi. He's negotiating some oil lease or something. I expect he'll be away all week and probably into next week."

We chatted about her insurance work. Her father had founded the agency, and she had taken over from him. Over the last ten years, she acquired five other firms, effectively buying up most of her primary competition. They now were the largest agency in southern Connecticut.

When the steaks were ready, Daphne asked me to take them off. She retreated to her house and reappeared with a tray holding the salads and a baguette. She had already set the table, so we sat down to eat.

"Oh, I forgot the wine. Would you mind, Robbie? It's on the counter in the kitchen."

I retrieved it, opened the California Bordeaux, and poured us each a glass. During dinner she asked about my background and work. I intended to give her the twenty-five cent version, but she kept asking questions. In the end, I think she got the whole dollar saga.

"So, how long since your wife passed away?" she asked.

"A little over three years," I answered.

"Must have been difficult," she said, and I sensed genuine compassion.

"It was, Daphne, and it still is."

"And, you haven't met someone to help fill the void?"

I finished my wine and poured us each a new portion.

"Funny, you should ask!" I said. I told her about Kathleen. I didn't go into graphic detail, but I was sure she understood we were intimate. She confirmed my suspicion with her next question.

"And, this was the first time you had gone to bed with someone since your wife passed away?"

"Yes."

Daphne nodded.

"Jonathon and I still enjoy sex, to a certain degree," she said with a smile. "I'm sixty-two and he's ten years older. There was a time when the children were younger that, let's say, passions lagged. Thank God, Jonathon had the courage to discuss his feelings. We talked like we hadn't in years. From that time on, we have made it a priority to set time aside for us to be alone. We take trips together, keep a weekend free from all social engagements, or just order in Chinese and spend the night in our bedroom. It's made us a stronger couple. I say all this, Robbie, because I can't imagine going three years without sex."

I nodded and added, "Yes, a bit of a long stretch. Part of that time, Daphne, I would not have been fit company for anyone. My girls helped by coming home a lot, but I got lonely. I had been married for twenty-five years. I had no clue how to ask out a woman. I was also plagued with performance anxiety, if you get my drift."

Daphne laughed. "I assume this Kathleen was not dissatisfied."

"Yes. I was able to put those anxieties to rest."

We both smiled. Being able to talk to someone close to my age about sex was refreshing.

"Jonathon has his issues from time to time. I try to tell myself it's not due to all these wrinkles or the extra ten pounds I've put on."

"Daphne, I doubt that. You are an extraordinary woman. You are beautiful and have a wonderful figure, if you don't mind my saying. Jonathon is a lucky man."

"Thanks, Robbie. Although I wasn't fishing for compliments, I still enjoy them. So, when Jonathon has some, what was that term, "performance" issues, we just cuddle."

I must have let my thoughts reflect in my expression.

Daphne laughed. "Yes, I know tongues do not suffer from performance issues. Jonathon doesn't seem to be inclined in that fashion. I hope that is not too much information, or TMI as I guess it's called today. And, the sad part is that the performance issues seem to increase with age. I suppose that he has a stressful occupation, and he has had some health issues that don't help. Not his fault, but that doesn't relieve my itch, if you know what I mean. Now, I know that I've shared too much. Please keep this between us."

"You have my word, Daphne. Since we're speaking frankly," I said. "I cannot not understand why a man would not want to do that-oral sex, that is. I love it."

Daphne colored slightly. "Well, then, Kathleen must be a happy woman."

It was my turn to blush. "I believe she did mention being so."

"And, yet, she wants to see other men?"

"At this time, one other man. What can I say? Daphne, I'm almost a generation older than she is. She deserves someone closer to her age."

"Robbie, what a woman deserves is a man who loves her and who shows that love by respecting her." Daphne finished her wine and set the glass on the table. She smiled and said, "And, by fucking her until she can take no more."

She looked at me. I cracked up, and she joined in.

We each cleaned up. As I was about to go back to my apartment, Daphne touched my arm.

"Robbie, thanks for being such splendid company. I hope we can do this some more. I suspect we might just become friends."

"I would like nothing better. And, thank you for dinner."

We stared at each other. I put my arms out, and she let me hug her. We squeezed each other, and I crossed the driveway as she went into the house. As soon as I closed the door, I heard my cell phone. I had left it in the apartment. I found it in my bedroom and saw it was Kathleen.

"Hey."

"Robbie, hi. I hope I'm not getting you at a bad time. I called earlier, but you didn't answer."

"No, this is perfect. I was next door having dinner with my, I guess I'd say landlady. She doesn't really look like one, though. This is an estate and I'm in the old carriage house. The primary residence is more mansion than house. So banish any mental images of Ethel Mertz."

"Who?"

Kids, I thought. I figured everyone would remember the "I Love Lucy" show.

"Never mind, what's up"

"I've got a huge favor to ask."

"Kathleen, I'm over three hours away. You'll have to manage the bat by yourself."

She laughed and told me it was something else. I listened as she asked me to do something that I would never have imagined if you gave me three lifetimes to think about it.

"Free the Nipple?" I said.

"Yes, have you heard of it?"

"Have to admit I haven't."

"Well, it's an equality movement. Some women feel it's discriminatory that men may go topless, but women aren't. They want the same freedoms accorded men. So, they stage these protests where women go topless. Obviously, they garner lots of attention and publicity. The women believe it helps bring notice to their cause."

"I can see that it would generate attention," I said. "And, your mother is going to participate?"

"Yes. God, she loves causes. So, there is a big demonstration planned for this weekend. Mom is all hyped to go. She has a friend, Carly, who is going with her. Carly is a bit younger, maybe late fifties. Robbie, I hate to ask this, but would you mind going with them? I worry about Mom going into the City. She thinks she's still a kid, but she's not. Plus, I don't know what kind of people these demonstrations attract. I would feel a lot better if I knew someone was there keeping an eye on things."

I imagined the attractive Virginia with bare breasts. I could keep an eye on things. Before I could respond, Kathleen continued.

"Usually Adelaide tags along on mom's city adventures. This weekend, however, her husband has to go out of town. Her in-laws can't mind her kids, and so she's going to have to stay at home. You're the only other person I can think of. You're not too far away. Mom could come down to Stamford and you can take the train from there. Can you help, Robbie? Please."

"So, you want me to go with your mother while she takes her top off and walks around bare-breasted? Got to say never had anyone ask me that before."

"Well, there will probably be hundreds of other topless women. So, it's not all bad."

We both laughed. "Kathleen, have you discussed this with Mom? I mean would she be embarrassed to have me present?"

"Are you kidding? She thinks it's an excellent idea. She told me that guys can take their shirts off and be part of the parade. She told me she'd like to get another look at your bod. Like daughter, like mother."

"Hell, if it's all right with her, I'll do it."

"Thanks, Robbie. You're the best." We spent some time going over the details, and Kathleen gave me her mother's cell number. After work the next day, I called Virginia.

"So you're going to subject yourself to having to watch these old tits? Or are you just a glorified babysitter?"

"You call your tits 'babies'?" I said, letting the humor creep into my voice.

"Ha, forty years ago I might have thought of them as babies, but now I'd be sued by the American Association of Pediatricians if I tried to call these boobs 'babies'."

I found Virginia's sense of humor to be refreshing. "Virginia, I think I am going to enjoy being your escort. Let's talk logistics." In a few minutes we'd worked out what we were going to do. She and Carly were planning to stay over Saturday night, and invited me to join them.

"I'll think about it, but don't go booking another room."

"Who said anything about an extra room, kiddo?"

"You're too much, Virginia. See you on Saturday."

***

I always thought the expression, "When it rains, it pours.", only applied to bad things happening. The next morning I discovered it can have positive connotations as well.

I was working in my office at the hospital when my cell rang. I saw the ID and answered with a cheery, "Hi, Sarah."

"Robbie, it's great to hear your voice. I guess you've been busy. You rarely miss a board meeting. I don't think I've seen you since the show."

I explained how I was spending a lot of time on my new engagement. I asked about Katie, and what was going on in their lives.

After a short recap, Sarah said, "Karen told me you were in Stamford. Well, Katie and I are going to be in New York this weekend to do casting for our next show. How about we get together for dinner on Saturday night?"

"My treat, as usual?" I teased.

"Well, since you insist..."

We both laughed. "Actually, I'm not quite sure. I'm going to be in the city, anyway. Remember Kathleen Robinson?"

"Oh, the pretty young thing you were helping to learn about, what was it, life? Is she meeting you in New York?"

"Put your claws back in, Sarah, I was helping her meet people in New Hampshire. It was for her work."

"Really," said Sarah. "I heard you and she were learning a lot about each other." Kathleen and I were careful, and I didn't think anyone knew about our relationship.