The Look Pt. 01

Part 1 of 4

All characters are of legal age, etc, etc.

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It started with 'The Look', and my life will never be the same.

First, a little about myself. My name is Alice. Like most women, I'm very critical of my self image. I think I'm in fairly decent shape for a woman in her mid to late thirties. I'm average in height, not petite, but not an Amazon either. Brunette, brown eyes. I struggle with diet and exercise to keep my what I hope is a MILF shape. Keto, aerobics, you name it, I've done it. I'm one of those women that think of yoga as a religion. I spend a lot of time at the gym, and weather permitting, I run marathons. Not even a week after my son was born I ran in the Boston Marathon, desperate to get rid of the baby fat. I'm in a war against growing old, fighting tooth and nail against middle-age. Nineteen years after the birth of my son, I'm losing that battle. That ass I see growing bigger in the mirror is mine, and I absolutely hate it.

Worse yet, my breasts that were once my pride and joy, are beginning to sag unevenly, forcing me to wear a bra all the time. I desperately want surgery to make them perky once more.

I want to stay young forever.

Why couldn't I have been bitten by a sparkly vampire when I was in my early twenties?

I think I suffer with my self image because I've lost so much time, the best years of my youth, just gone, wasted, and I want, no; I demand them back.

I want a do over.

Why the do over you ask?

I'm separated from my husband of almost twenty years. We were high school sweethearts and married right after graduation. It was a struggle to put us both through medical school but we managed, working several jobs to help ends meet.

We eventually set up our own practice, and everything was going so well.

For a while anyway.

But it was not meant to be.

When my husband came out as gay, confessed he was seeing the hospital radiologist, it shouldn't have come as shock. The late nights, the conferences, and all those texts suddenly made sense. All the clues, all the hints were there, I just didn't want to see them.

I lived in denial way too long.

So I wasted the best years of my life with a man that wasn't who I thought he was.

And that's why I want a do over.

By mutual agreement, the divorce will finalize once our son completes his first year of college. It is an amicable divorce, but long overdue. We closed the practice and now I work at the town's only medical center. Per the separation agreement, my soon to be ex-husband moved to our summer condo in Florida with his boyfriend, leaving me with the big house. What I thought to be a great prize is turning out to be anything but. The house, once filled with the sounds of laughter and the promise of bright futures, is now an empty shell, a silent memorial for happier times. Although the house is paid for, it's still expensive to maintain with all those empty rooms, and a stretch to my budget. And I hate yard work, and have to pay for lawn service, which stretches my budget even further.

I thought about selling the huge house, get an apartment or condo, but then I would have to move away, and I was afraid I would lose touch with my best friend Anne.

I've known Anne for about ten years or so, and she's my best friend, ever. Anne lives alone next door, survivor of her own divorce three years ago.

Anne is younger than I, blonde, and according to my son; has a nice ass and amazing 'gazongas'- which is not a medical term I would use regularly, but it is an apt description of her breasts, measuring a good 36D, not the largest, but she definitely knows how to present them, much to my consternation. She has one of those bodies that I would die for, and worse yet she makes no effort to keep that centerfold look while I struggle endlessly with diet and exercise. She's an absolute blonde bombshell, even in her early thirties.

Anne's not afraid to show off her body, and wears the skimpiest clothes whenever she can. She's always the center of attention at my pool parties, the one the other women love to call 'that bitch' as she is always giving the men an eyeful of her curves. I'm sure all the boys in the neighborhood have filled socks jerking off to fantasies about her. Anne loves the attention she gets from men, and is viewed by many as an oversexed temptress, always on the prowl to feed her insatiable hunger.

Which drove her jealous, controlling, husband Steven crazy.

Steven and Anne's marriage was troubled right from the start. Steven was in his fifties, Anne in her twenties when they met. Steven thought he could control her, make her his stay at home trophy wife, but she wasn't having any of that. Beneath her sexy exterior, Anne is intelligent, strong willed, opinionated, outgoing, and one hell of a shrewd business woman, making her a well respected council woman, and is considered by many to be a strong contender to be the next mayor should she choose to run in the next election.

Since Steven's claims of marital infidelity could not be proven, and she had photos of her injuries after numerous fights, she wound up with everything in the divorce settlement.

Since the divorce, Anne dove into her role as Council woman and rarely dated, leaving little spare time for us to spend together.

I really loved the time I get to spend with Anne. She's the sister I never had. Schedule permitting, we would spend our Saturdays together.We make breakfast and spend the morning doing something together, whether it be crafting, sewing, gossiping, before going out shopping or to the movies. She was always there for me when I ran marathons, cheering me on, and I looked forward to seeing her on the side, waving some funny sign at the three-quarter mark. We've shared so much, our lives so entwined, we were sometimes thought to be sisters, though we look nothing alike.

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Just before Christmas my schedule took a turn for the worse as many of the doctors were taking holiday vacations and I had to pick up the slack since I had no plans to leave the area. I don't think it would have mattered if I did. I'm the meek type, easily intimidated by men in authority, which explains why I've been passed over repeatedly for promotions. Anne was always getting on me about having to assert myself, to tell people no, but I always give in. Given my full schedule, I thought I wouldn't be able to make my traditional Saturday meetup with Anne, but since the bad weather that paralyzed the north east was rolling in, appointments were being cancelled in droves. The medical center was quickly turning into a ghost town, and I was sent home, subject to recall if needed.

Since Anne's step-daughter Connie and her new boyfriend would be in town for Christmas, I thought it would be nice to get some fresh donuts from the towns only bakery before it closed and make coffee for all of us to share over breakfast.

It says a lot about Anne that her former step-daughter would choose to spend Christmas with Anne and not her own flesh and blood father. For two days Connie had been stranded in the northeast after her flight canceled because of the winter storm, and was supposed to have flown in this morning. The original plan was for Connie to come home first to help her former step-mother Anne get things set up for Christmas, and then Connie's boyfriend Liam would fly in to join them after he presented his group project at school. Anne held out hope that Connie would still be able to make it for Christmas, but as the severe winter storm raged on, it was looking less and less likely she would make it home in time for Christmas.

As it was, Liam arrived before Connie did. Liam's flight was more direct and didn't get caught up in all that bad weather that was blasting south.

As this was my first time meeting Liam, I was astonished.

Liam was an absolute stud-muffin!

Oh my god was he handsome! Early twenties, brown haired, lean, quick with a smile, and very polite. And those bright green eyes of his, oh! The way they captivated me! If I was even ten years younger, I would be vying for his attention.

As it was, I was old enough to be his mother.

We shared a nice breakfast of donuts and coffee together, and I couldn't help but stare at Liam. God he was so gorgeous! I was thinking thoughts no woman should have for a man that was as old as her own son, and unbelievably I was getting aroused, imagining being in his arms in the throes of passion. Maybe because I was so focused on Liam that I caught him giving Anne a look that sent a pang of jealousy through me, and sent my heart racing.

Or was I just reading into something that was truly innocent?

I have one of those imaginations, the kind that reads whole stories into the way how something is said. I read racy and raunchy books, a popular past time during those frequent lulls late at night when I'm on duty at the Medical Center. My imagination sped away, like a dog chasing butterflies, darting this way and that, imagining all kinds of scenarios, and all of those fantasies ended with Anne and Liam having wild, passionate sex.

Just as I was going to say something, my phone buzzed. A child had been hurt in a sledding accident, and I was needed at the center immediately.

Impeccable timing.

Not much I could do for the broken arm of the child, but refer him to x-ray and the like, just as the Emergency Room staff was already doing. As I wasn't considered essential, I gathered my stuff and headed for the door, but the Administrator stopped me, decided to keep me for the rest of the shift, simply because I was the only pediatrician available, and the patient was the son of the mayor.

During my unplanned shift I can think of nothing but Liam's captivating smile, and that look I convinced myself he gave Anne. It was a look I knew well, a look burned into my memory, a look from the past.

When my son graduated high school earlier that year, I threw a big party for all of his friends. It was as much a going away party as it was a celebration. The party was a sad time for me, as it marked a transition in all of our lives. My son was spreading his wings, and would soon be leaving the nest, leaving me to live his own life.

And I would be left behind.

The thought brought a tear to my eye. I hosted as best I could, but the depression welling within me continued to deepen, and I wanted to cry. Not wanting to spoil the mood for others, I quickly retreated to the kitchen, under the pretense of getting more food. I heard the door open behind me, and I glanced up to see Carl enter.

Best friends since grade school, Carl and my son were like brothers, and did everything together. But they had been accepted into different colleges, and this party was a going away party for him as well.

"You okay Ms. B?" Carl asked with a measure of concern.

I nodded, wiped the tear away.

"Hey, hey." He said, coming up to me, pulled gently on my arm, turning me to him. "No need for tears. We're supposed to be celebrating remember?"

I nodded again, keeping my face averted so he couldn't see the tears.

I wasn't aware he was in my personal space until he took me in a hug.

The hug surprised me.

A moment passed, then another and the hug quickly became awkward.

I went to pull away, but Carl held me tightly, hushing me as a parent would comfort a crying child. Stunned, I fell quiet, and I found myself drifting. A curious sensation washed through me, pulling me from the overwhelming sadness I was mired in. He held me, not tightly, not in friendly greeting, but in a way I had not experienced before. I was safe, warm in his arms. I rested my head against his broad shoulder, and sagged a little.

I liked being in his arms.

I closed my eyes, and willed the world to just go away, content to remain in those strong arms.

With surprising tenderness, he touched my cheek with his strong fingers and turned my head to face him.

I opened my eyes to see him gazing back at me with an intensity I had never seen before.

Not with just any look, butThe Look.

The look he gave me sent more than a chill up my spine, sending my senses reeling.

I don't know how, but everything changed in that instant. Where once I had seen Carl as a child, a second son, all that vanished in a single heart beat. An awkward moment passed and a I felt a chill as I wondered what just happened. It had been years since any man had given me the bedroom eyes look. Where did Carl go, and who was this man holding me so tenderly? It was the moment I realized that Carl was not a child anymore. He had grown tall and fit, having played sports all through school. Handsome, studly even.

Carl leaned forward slightly, his lips cautiously, hesitantly brushing mine, sending electric shocks cascading through me.

I remained motionless, captivated by the new sensations careening through me.

Moving his head back, he gave me another look.

"Carl?" I stammered, both frightened and excited by what was happening. Then I remembered we were wearing our swim suits, our almost naked bodies touching more than proper. It took all of my strength of will to take a hesitant step back.

I didn't know what to say, so I stammered a simple: "What?"

Carl took my hand, his touch sending an electric current through me.

Carl confessed that he had been in love with me since the day I caught him spying on me sun bathing in the nude when he was ten, and wanted more than anything to make love to me before he left.

Carl's desperate confession surprised me, not because of his young age, or his forwardness, but all those hints and flirting he had shown over the years I had never taken seriously. It was easy to laugh off his advances because he was so young, an adolescent crush, but I was at that point in my life where my husband left me for another man, and my self esteem was pretty low.

I tried to pull away, but Carl tightened his grip and pulled me to him. The strength he showed, his dominance over me stunned me, and I was powerless to resist, swept into his arms once more, his eager lips finding mine.

It shames me to admit that I enjoyed how his kiss made me feel. I got lost in that kiss, so passionate, so heated yet so clumsy. It was evident that he had little experience with women but his kiss made me feel more alive than I had in years! His embrace was strong, exciting, just as I always wanted from my husband. I was putty in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him as well, our tongues mingling, tasting each other. I felt a long forgotten surge rise within me, a warmth suddenly infusing my nether regions.

The warmth gave way to something more, a twisting sensual, carnal pleasure that I had nearly forgotten.

I was suddenly eighteen again, my arousal growing, my pussy suddenly heating up like a furnace on a cold winter's night.

I felt a hardening bulge through his wet swim shorts pressing against me, and I slipped a hand over his stretchy waist band and into his shorts, taking his manhood in my hand. He groaned at my touch. I was stunned at how large he had become. Carl wasn't a child anymore but a young man, a man with needs.

I held his meaty cock, felt the veins throbbing on the side.

It was hot, a thing alive.

It was marvelous to be holding him.

Oh god!

I could not remember the last time I held a cock, a hard cock in my hand.

I gently squeezed his shaft, felt it jump and hardened even more. I felt warmth ooze from the tip of his cock, precum coating my fingers.

Looking up into his face, I could see his eyes close in pleasure, the look of a man in ecstasy.

A simple tug and he was free of his suit. I stroked his hardness several times, his precum lubing my fingers. I marveled how good it felt, how much better it would be to feel it within me. I was absolutely wet, and I know my bikini bottom showed just how aroused I was. He effortlessly lifted me onto the edge of the counter, my legs parting of their own accord. I caught the odor of my sex, of womanly needs as he settled between my legs.

It was when he pulled aside my bikini bottom, his fingers slipping through my pubes, pressing into my sopping wetness that reason finally caught up with me, and I pulled away and told him we couldn't.

I stopped, not because I did not want to make love to him, but the house was full of people and we couldn't risk getting caught.

I ran to the bathroom, locked the door behind me.

I stared at myself in the mirror, shocked to realize just how close I came to having sex with my son's best friend.

I looked to my hand, still covered in his cooling precum.

I wanted to taste it, but I pushed the thought away, and washed my hands instead.

Nothing ever came of that encounter, and Carl went to school and his family moved way in August, but I never stopped thinking about him. At the time I knew my marriage was over, and the urge, the need, to take my son's best friend beyond what was considered appropriate was very strong. Ever since that day, I would fantasize about Carl while pleasuring myself. Even bought a vibrator that was his size. I should have felt shame, but deep in my heart I knew that if I had that day to do over, I would have taken him into the back guest room and let him have his way with me.

The look Carl gave me that day of the pool party was the same look Liam gave Anne during breakfast.

Shift over, I left the clinic as quickly as I could, as I overheard the administrator talking to a doctor about keeping staff overnight as the coming storm would no doubt close the roads, and he wanted to make sure the hospital had enough staff should they get snowed in. I slipped out a side door and ran to the parking lot. I raced the ice storm home, thinking if I made it home, I couldn't get called back to work. The weather guesser on the radio claimed that it was the worst looking winter storm they've seen in decades, promising a very white, and very cold Christmas. The announcer read off a growing list of public event closures as well as store business closures, and I knew everything would be closed by morning. I was hoping, praying, that the administrator didn't call for Class A personnel to come into work tomorrow.

But I didn't go home.

Instead I found myself standing at Anne's back kitchen door. I was still in my scrubs, cold as hell, wondering for the thousandth time what the fuck I was doing there. There were no lights on in Anne's house, everybody in bed. I knew I should just go home, call Anne in the morning. But I can't help but wonder if Liam and Anne are sharing the same bed.

Where I spent the whole shift imagining Liam and Anne in the throes of passionate sex, now I'm trying to convince myself I didn't see the look Liam gave Anne. I really needed to go home, get some sleep, and enjoy my next two days off. But some part of me, the jealous part, demanded to know the truth.

I clutched the ring of house keys tightly, struggled with all of my will power. Years ago Anne gave me a key to her house so I could feed the dogs when the family was on vacation. Over the years I've used this key so often, Anne's house had effectively become an extension of my own home.

The key slid into the lock easily, and turned without trouble. Anne trusted me with this key, a trust I violated the moment I unlocked her door. I'm nothing more than a common burglar now, and the thought filled me with shame. Yet, I still make my way to her room in the darkness. In my twisted mind, I am thinking I would peek into her room, see if she was truly sleeping alone, and then sneak back out.

It sucked as plans went, but I had to know!

I had no idea what I would say if I am caught sneaking around her house, or even what I would do if they were really fucking each other's brains out.

After stumbling through the darkened house, I made my way quietly up the stairs. It's all I can do not to shiver, as I'm both cold and scared. From beneath the master bedroom door a soft yellowish light seeped into hall. I'm afraid to step into that pool of light, to have my shadow cast against the darkness of the hall.