The Neallys Ch. 07: Kate Pugh

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Suzanne's Mother, Kate, Moves On.
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Part 7 of the 9 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 05/18/2019
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JPGmvny
JPGmvny
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{Author's Note: This is Part 7 of what has become a family saga. The first six are in Lesbian Sex because the family arc began with the relationship between Kerry Neally and Suzanne Nelson. Their mothers (Eileen and Kate) are introduced in the first lines of this story. One of the relationships in the earlier parts was straight—between Eileen Neally and Tom Doyle.

{I've tried to make this a stand-alone story with references to earlier events dropped in along the way. Particularly the break between Kate and Suzanne and most of their family in California. As always, the characters and errors are my creation, and all comments are greatly appreciated.}

*****

"What can you tell me about Simon Douglas?"

"Hello to you too Kate." This was Eileen Neally.

"Sorry. He just left a voicemail for me and you went out with him before Tom." Kate Pugh.

"Actually, I dated both of them at the same time but chose Tom. I might have chosen Simon if Tom didn't come along at the right time."

"You're such a romantic. But now about me. I spoke to him for a long while at your wedding. His message said he wanted to take me to an opening at the Guggenheim. I know nothing of modern—"

"Nor does he. And he freely admits it. He uses openings as an excuse to ask someone for a date. Our first date was an opening in Greenwich and we spent half the time trying to figure whether the things were upside down. No. He's a real country landscape and boats-on-the-Sound kind of person. I liked him a lot. I knew him years ago when we worked together at the same bank. He then made a fortune on Wall Street with a hedge fund. He's loaded and lives in Greenwich, but he's really not a Greenwich kind of guy."

"So should I call him back?"

"You should definitely call him back. Have you gone on many dates since you moved into the City?"

Kate, then Kate "Nelson," left California to follow her daughter, Suzanne, who was married to Eileen's daughter, Kerry. She had an apartment on the Upper West Side, in the 90s off Riverside Drive, and after working at a place she did not like had gotten enough in her divorce settlement—she was officially divorced about two months before—so that she could devote herself to working for the Episcopal Church in New York. She'd been a life-long, conservative Catholic until she reevaluated her faith and her church in light of her daughter. Her ex, William Nelson, did not make the same adjustment. Which was why he was divorced civilly—neither, of course, was divorced in the eyes-of-the-Church—and living alone in his big house in Mill Valley, California.

"People at the Church set me up every once in a while and of course Kerry and Suzanne will never give up, but it's always been one-and-done."

"With Simon. Did you ever—?"

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell. You know that. Seriously. No, we never did. And he never pushed. I was never ready."

"But sometimes I just want to sleep with someone."

"Has there—?"

"No. William was and is my one and only. How pathetic is that?"

"Between us, Kate, if you want to go to bed with someone you'll have no problem. Hell, if I were into straight, older women, I'd take you to bed this afternoon."

"You Neally women do have a thing for us Nelson girls."

"Stop. Listen, I just don't know if you should do something like that to Simon too quickly. Would he do it? I'm sure he would. But I think he's worth saving for the long term. To see what happens. But for your sanity, go to bed with the next one. Just enjoy sex. No-questions-asked/no-feelings-hurt sex."

Which is how Kate Pugh came to be on Simon Douglas's arm at the Guggenheim opening. It does not explain, however, how Simon Douglas came to be in Kate Pugh's bed that evening.

Kate met Simon at Eileen's wedding. Eileen, as noted, dated Simon before she fell for Tom Doyle. They got married, and that is how Kate met Simon. Neither had a "plus-one." Kate was estranged from her husband, William. Simon had a series of lackluster relationships after Eileen told him that they had no future together, and he took it as well as could be expected, him having lost a woman for whom he'd pined for years. He thought enough of Eileen to be pleased that she found Tom.

He was not despondent. Far from it. He was an elder at his hedge fund and was becoming involved in several charitable projects in southern Connecticut and around New York City. He was wealthy, but not wealthy enough to have a foundation. He was generous with his money and generous with his time. When he got the invitation to the Guggenheim opening, he remembered that first date with Eileen and thoughts of Eileen led to thoughts of Kate and the nice conversation they had at Eileen's wedding and that led to his leaving a voicemail for Kate that asked her to the opening.

The exhibit was as mystifying to Kate and Simon as the one in Greenwich had been to Eileen and Simon and again Simon had a wonderful time with his date, sipping champagne and nibbling on finger food. They walked to a restaurant on Madison Avenue where Simon made a reservation and afterward while the car, which would take Simon to Greenwich, headed through Central Park to Kate's place off Riverside Drive—Eric, Kate's son, had moved back to Yale—they found their hands touching and remaining that way. As they approached the apartment in the car, Kate asked if he'd like to stop in for a drink. It wasn't actually Kate saying it. It was a part of Kate over which she had no control and it was something a moment before the right side of her brain had told her mouth: Do No Ask. It was like a finger pulling off a hot iron, done instinctively without the brain playing the least role in the act.

"You sure?"

She leaned over and kissed him. Her brain was sure, Eileen's caution nowhere to be seen.

Simon signed off so that the driver was paid as if he drove to Greenwich and not simply across town. He followed Kate through the brownstone's small lobby and up two flights of stairs. She fumbled with her keys before opening the door. The place was a mess—she'd spent too much time getting ready, and clothes and things were strewn about the apartment—but she didn't care and she assumed Simon didn't either.

When the door was closed, Kate grabbed Simon and pulled him to her. She'd had a fair share of goodnight kisses since moving to New York. This was not one of them. He was taken aback by her ferocity. She had him pushed against the door and her tongue was rifling through his mouth as her hands went beneath his jacket, seeking to tear his shirt from his trousers.

His arms were behind her back as he pulled her even closer. Now his tongue was spending as much time in her mouth as hers was in his, back-and-forth volleying until they needed to come up for air.

She backed off.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Simon looked her in the eyes and gently ran two fingers of his right hand up and down her left cheek.

"I'm not. You are so beautiful." He leaned in to her and his lips gently touched hers and he backed away.

They walked into the living room and Kate quickly moved a stack of magazines to the floor next to the sofa. They sat on it.

"I need to tell you something. I've only made love to one man in my life. My ex. I don't—"

"Kate. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to make love to you, but if you're not read—"

"I spoke to Eileen about you."

"I thought you might."

"After you left your voicemail. She said you and she . . . never did anything. She warned me that if I did it too soon with you I might blow the chance to, you know, fall in love with you."

His eyes went big.

"It's what she said. I've been with you twice and the first time was at a wedding and everyone's a romantic at a wedding. I'm just thinking out loud here. All I'm saying is that if we make love I don't want it to keep us from seeing whether we go anywhere. But we're both too old to pass up the opportunity to fuck someone we really want to fuck, and I really want you to fuck me."

If the word "fuck" had passed her lips before, she couldn't recall. Even when she had sex with William, she never allowed herself to let go. She enjoyed it plenty, as did he, but she was restrained in how she'd express the pleasure that he gave her when he was in her. She moaned, but never let out a battery of expletives. Now, though, she felt the primal need to be fucked by a man she very much liked.

"Tell you what," Simon said, "Let's just sleep together to get it out of both of our systems. We'll play it by ear. I didn't come, um, prepared. I'm not a high-school kid who carries condoms in his wallet."

"The Duane Reade's open all night."

"Let's go there to get a toothbrush."

And they got more than a toothbrush at Duane Reade. As they walked back, they realized they were holding hands and she put an arm through one of his. While they waited for a light to change to cross 94th Street, he whispered to her. "This is 100% in your hands," and kissed her neck just as the light changed.

Much as she'd wanted him when they entered the apartment, she was now in heat for him and wondered whether there was an alley before she got to her brownstone where she could pull him, jack up her dress, and let him have her against a wall, her panties off and her legs straddling him as she impaled herself on him. It was a thought she'd never had before but one that suddenly materialized as they walked and her eyes scanned for such an alley.

There was none, and she quickened her pace. She had her keys out well before they got to her building and she was ready as they reached her apartment door. In a moment they were in and she was not wasting time kissing him in the foyer. She felt a need she'd never before imagined. And pulled him into her bedroom, tossing to the floor the dresses she'd tried but rejected and had left on the bed. She closed the blinds.

She sat on the bed and reached under her dress to pull her panties off as Simon was undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. The decision had been taken for both of them as they walked back and, truth be told, if Kate had found an alley Simon would have been more than willing and, he hoped, able to impale her against a wall oblivious to the world around them. So by the time he was standing in her bedroom watching her rip her panties off and throwing them on the floor, he was hard and dripping.

He pushed his shoes off and undid his pants and took them, his briefs, and his socks off. Neither wanted any preliminaries. Kate had flung her own shoes somewhere and had pulled her dress over her hips and was now lying half-naked in the middle of her bed. She ran her fingers through her inner folds beneath her slightly-trimmed pubic hair, inviting him.

Simon grabbed the Duane Reade bag, sending the toothbrush somewhere too, and ripped open the box and opened a condom and it was quickly on him. The spontaneity of what was happening was a first for them both.

"Fuck the dress. Get in me." And with that invitation Simon was on the bed. He ran his own finger through Kate's folds and was amazed at how damp she was. "I'm ready, and I can see you are too, so fuck me, Simon, fucking fuck me."

He needed no more encouragement and soon he entered her and she felt a moment of fulfillment, and fillment if there is such a word, as he slowly leaned until their pelvises touched and she was fully impaled. He held himself there as he looked down on her. She gave him a sweet smile, an impassioned smile that this was sex but was something else, something more. Holding the gaze, he began to pull himself out and then slowly push back in. The only sounds above the traffic noises that seemed far away being their enhanced breathing, a squish from the condom gliding through her dampness, and the creak of a mattress getting a workout.

"Faster please."

Kate raised her knees, her feet flat on the bed, and it allowed Simon to penetrate even deeper. He increased his tempo. He had always been a lover who concentrated on the woman he was fucking more than he did on himself and so had no concerns about coming too soon. Moans competed with the pair's trying to catch their breaths as they increased their efforts. Simon moved his elbows so he could lower his head to Kate's and as he approached, her mouth opened and her tongue emerged in an attempt to pull Simon's mouth and Simon's tongue into her.

All was bedlam at their hips as they struggled to breathe, a slapping sound arising as their bodies crashed together, Kate now animated in shoving herself up to meet Simon's thrusts. He reached around and grabbed her ass cheeks and pounded her until she pushed his chest away so she could explode.

It had never been like this. Kate's eyes roamed up and she was gone. She did not know how long it lasted and cared less.

Simon slowed his pace so she could recover and then he pulled out and rolled onto his back next to her. Kate's dress was now damp from her sweat, and more than a little of his, but she didn't care. It was expensive, but if it were ruined it was well worth it.

After she finally caught her breath, she looked at her lover. "My lover." It was a pleasant if novel thought to her. At that moment she did not care whether anything happened with this man beyond pure sex because it was one of the purest physical experiences of her life. She saw a stupid smile on Simon's face. How pleased he was about making her feel the way she felt.

She realized he hadn't come. His dick was still hard, pointing at the ceiling, with him lightly rubbing it, condom and all. She got off the bed, but his panicked moment shifted when she turned to face him and reached around her back to unzip her dress and after it fell to the floor she stood there in only a simple white-lace bra. She undid the clasp in the front and spread it open and then off so she could display her breasts. This too was above-and-beyond what she'd ever done with William. He was not a Puritan, although they were both conservative Catholics. And after two children and several miscarriages she was on the pill as a medical dispensation, though she'd stopped taking it when she moved to New York. They had sex on a fairly regular basis and they both enjoyed it. William even liked her to take control now and then but he suppressed his submissive side because it did not jibe with what he thought he was supposed to be. And Kate allowed him to assert himself in bed when he wanted to. The sex was good enough. She thought. But she would come to realize that it was barely sex and while it may have been "good enough" for the woman she was, it would never be good enough for the woman she had become in those minutes in which Simon was inside her.

Whether it led to something more was not something Kate was thinking at that moment. No, it was that Simon was so pleased with himself for having satisfied her—and there was no doubt about her being satisfied—and did not care whether he came. Now she was naked, standing by the bed and seeing how much he admired the sight of her. If his dick had softened at all, it was again rock hard. She reached for it and removed his condom, a first for her. "Tie it and put it on the table," he instructed and after she did, she returned.

He lay naked on the bed. He was in good shape, with a slight paunch, but nowhere near the one proudly displayed by some middle-aged, and even some younger, men on Wall Street. He cared not that he was on full display for her. And she was awed by him. Her eyes canvassed his body and then she focused on his naked dick. It was beautiful. She'd never really looked at William. Maybe it too was beautiful, but she didn't care about that in the least.

Kate put her knees between his legs on the bed and then both her hands on the shaft. She leaned down and kissed the tip, swirling her tongue around the head and then leaned back. With her right hand she began to pump it, encouraged by a "just like that" from her lover. Her left hand began to explore. It ran down one thigh and up the other. She paused before getting the courage to reach under and caress his balls, eliciting an "oh my God" from Simon. Increasing the pace of her pumping and tightening her grip on his balls, she turned to him and smiled. "Come for me, Simon. Come for me."

And their eyes met. He exploded, his cum spurting up to his chest as she tried to aim it. Not at him, per se. More to keep it off the sheets. His ass bounced up and down as she kept pumping, now with both hands, until he was spent. "Stop. Please stop." And she did.

Kate ran to get a towel for Simon to use to clean up, and Simon enjoyed the vision of her shaking ass as she left the room. Kate hadn't given a thought to his being able to see her naked. Nor was she bothered about walking back into the room wearing nothing but the dampened towel she carried, and Simon savored the breasts that she displayed and even more the pubic hair she made no effort to cover.

She sat on the bed as he ran the towel up and across his chest to clean himself off. Suddenly she rose and came back with two glasses of water, this time wearing a robe.

"I had to go through the living room so I thought some covering up was in order." She handed him a glass and then ran a finger down his chest to his navel and almost to his dick before heading back up and circling each of his nipples.

"That was nice."

"If that was just nice, I'd hate to see what more-than-nice feels like."

"Be a good boy and maybe you'll find out one of these days."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it's a threat." She leaned down and kissed him lightly.

As she withdrew her head, he reached for her cheek and, now serious, said, "That was perfect. I've never known perfect before." She leaned back down and now the kiss involved their tongues as their breaths deepened until she pulled back.

"Let's not spill this water." With a smile, she said, "I'm afraid I don't have a robe for you. You'll have to put your suit back on." She paused as he got up. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. She was thinking.

"If you'd like, we can take a shower together before you do."

"If I'd like?" He circled the bed and she got up when he got to her side.

In truth, the bathroom didn't have much of a shower. She didn't know if it could fit two, but she was determined to find out. She turned on the water to allow it to heat up and he said he had to pee so she excused herself. When he flushed and opened the door, the shower was steaming, so he turned the heat down and when it was warm and no longer hot, they got in together. There was enough room for some maneuvering but not by much.

He turned her away from him and soaped her back, running his hands down until he lightly shook the globes of her wonderful ass, so recently admired from afar. He didn't dare rub her crack, and she was relieved that he didn't.

After rinsing her back off, "Turn." She stood before him and he stepped back and soaped one and then the other breast, twisting her nipples as his hands made wide circles. Now it was his turn to stop at the navel and return up, not without a glance at her pussy. She held her breath as he headed down, unsure of whether she wanted him to touch her there.

He handed her the soap and turned. She rubbed his shoulders. "You are awfully tight. We'll have to take care of that," and she leaned in to give a peck on his right shoulder. She ran the soap down his back, giving a slight slap to each of his ass cheeks, a man's ass, not as bouncy as hers. She again paused. This time, with a slight breath, she ordered him to turn. He was rock hard. She wasted no time. She soaped up her hands and put them both on him, and she relished his moan. His hands gently on her hips.

She rubbed up and down the shaft and then reached his balls. He separated his legs and closed his eyes. This was so not fair, her being able to do this to him. She rinsed him off and regretted how small the shower was. When they stepped out, onto the bathroom's tiled floor, she knelt on a towel in front of him and put him in her mouth. She'd done that only a few times with William, when he was in a not-too-Catholic mood. That was because he wanted it. This time she didn't care that Simon wanted it. She wanted him in her mouth. She wanted to feel him respond viscerally to what she was doing. She had no clear idea of how she was to suck him, and she moved based upon his reaction. She felt his hands at the back of her head, lightly, and heard his "fuck, fuck, fuck" as she put her hands on his ass and pulled him closer. She could not get him completely in her mouth, but neither of them cared. It was not long until Simon said "I'm coming" and pulled himself out, turning as he spurted his cum onto the bathroom floor.

JPGmvny
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