The Trouble With Emily Ch. 03

The following week, Mitchell had lunch with his good friend Stuart.

"So how's the old love life?" Stuart asked, being to the point as usual.

"Okay, I guess. I actually had a date last week."

"No kidding. Great. How'd it go?"

"The date was terrific, but I don't think it's going anyplace, certainly not where she wants to go."

"Who was it?"

"A cute little mom from Timothy's school. Said I was too intense for her. Nice girl, just not for me."

"Sorry to hear that," Stuart replied. "But at least it's a start. So how's it going with the nanny?"

"Good! I mean, really great ... I mean ..."

"What do you mean?"

"Emily is terrific with the kids. She gets them up in the morning, dressed fed and off to school. I don't have to give it a second thought. When I come home at night, the kids have finished their homework, there's a hot meal on the stove, and the house is neat and clean. It's sort of weird, almost like Angela was still there, except for all the bullshit."

"Bullshit?"

"Well, maybe you didn't know, but things weren't going so well between us for a quite a while before she got sick."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I didn't know and you never told me," Stuart remarked, sounding a bit hurt at not having been a confidant when Mitchell's marriage had gone sour. "I guess that Angela never said anything to Allison about it either, at least that I know of. But honestly, I did suspect something, and with all that happened afterwards you sort of forget about it."

"Doesn't matter. That's not the point. Point is that this girl is fantastic. Emily has taken so much of the burden off me that I find myself on the weekend finding extra special kind of things to do with the kids because I haven't had to be with them all week long, nagging them about homework or picking up their rooms, or finding crumpled snack wrappers on the couch."

"And that's a problem?" Stuart asked.

"No. It's not a problem."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, the trouble with Emily is that she is too perfect. She's beautiful and sweet and sexy and everything that I could wish for in a woman."

"But?"

"But she's more than twenty years younger than me and is driving me crazy, stark raving fucking nuts."

"What do you mean?"

"The way she dresses so sexy and appealing, little things she says, nice little things she does for me, the way I catch little glimpses of her here and there around the house."

"Do you think that she's doing it on purpose?"

"No, I don't think that at all. She seems pretty innocent about the way she acts around me."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's like she's woken something up inside me that I put to bed a long, long time ago. When I'm around her I get ideas, I start to forget the difference in our ages."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Mitch. You're a good-looking guy; you've kept yourself in shape. You look younger than your age. You've got a nice house, great paying job. I'd think you would be attractive to a lot of women, young or old."

"But I can't get involved with her. She's less than half my age, she has a boyfriend, she's still in college, she's the same age as ... well, I could easily be her father. Hell, I'm probably older than her father for Christ sake!"

"So what you're telling me is that you're like falling for her?"

"Hell no! Well, maybe not. I don't think so. It's just that after I come home and we sit down like a family and have dinner, and we talk and share the day, and then the kids go off and we clean up, I just find myself feeling ... feeling ... feeling ..."

"Like she's Angela?"

"Oh, no! And God, forgive me, better."

"So what's the trouble?"

"The trouble is that I ... she ... we ... I don't know how to put it ..."

Stuart pushed back from the table and looked at him intently. They had been close friends for years and could read each other like a Dick and Jane book. "Sounds to me like you're falling for her."

"Fuck no!"

"Pfft! Hey, don't blow this one off, old man. I think you have to have a talk with her, or better yet, a long talk with yourself. Sounds like there are some issues here that you have to get straight in your head before you say a word to her."

Mitchell had that long talk with himself off and on all that afternoon. He had no intention of falling in love, not with Emily. What would his kids think? What would his friends think? What would his family think? What would his-then he realized something. He was so concerned about what other people thought and felt that he was paying no attention to what he thought or felt.

What did he feel? Sure, maybe it was wrong on so many levels, in so many ways, but Mitchell couldn't deny what he felt in his heart for Emily. Once her friend Katie had planted the seed in his mind and Stuart had watered it just a bit, Mitchell knew that there was something special about Emily. He loved the feeling of anticipation each time he expected to see her, and the tingling feeling each time he did see her. Did she feel the same? The only other person who mattered was Emily, and again his old buddy, Stuart, was right. Mitchell had to talk to her about it, but he would wait for the right time and place.

* * *

The next weekend, Mitchell hosted his annual pool party for the closest of his neighbors. It turned out that Emily didn't have any plans that weekend and joined in the festivities. It was a terrific day. The neighbors and friends gathered in the afternoon and swam and played in and around the pool, enjoying the brilliant sunshine.

"So who's the sexy little girlfriend?" asked Pete Winter, as Emily passed by in a flowered bikini that was just a bit more modest than her other suits.

"That's Emily, my nanny," Mitchell replied.

"Nanny, huh?" Pete replied. "Karen and I had seen her around town and we figured that you had picked up a little cupcake to sweeten your life."

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," he said admiring the way Emily moved about the neighbors like a perfect hostess, making sure that they were all attended to. "Strictly business."

"Yeah, sure," Pete replied. And he wasn't the only one to say anything. A few of the others asked about her, but Mitchell went through the same explanation. She was just his nanny, a nice young girl with a boyfriend who was working her way through college. He must have been pretty convincing because as the afternoon went on, even he was beginning to believe that Emily was just the nanny.

Late in the afternoon Mitchell grilled some hamburgers and sweet corn and the neighbors passed around some special homemade salads and side dishes that they had brought to share. By early evening, most of those who had kids bid their goodbyes after a final swim. By midnight only a few diehards were left scattered about the various klatches of deck chairs talking and laughing quietly among themselves in the aquamarine glow of the pool lights.

Emily and Mitchell found themselves sitting on a pair of deck chairs at the far end of the pool away from the others. She had pulled on a tank top over her swimsuit. As they sipped their wine, she casually untied her suit top and pulled it off from underneath her top. When she noticed that Mitchell was watching her closely, she grinned.

"It was wet and kind of bugging me," she said, the flimsy suit top dangling from her fingers.

"Well, now it's bugging me," Mitch replied, nodding toward Emily as she sat beside him, the snug tank top dampened from her wet body and clinging to every lush curve of her breasts, including her stiffened nipples that were protruding provocatively.

"And you're complaining?" Emily leaned back and raised her arms above her head, a move that only made her appear more stimulating. She let her arms fall back down with a shrug that sent the sexiest little jiggle to her breasts.

"I have never complained about anything that was beautiful to behold."

"Is that a compliment?" she asked, looking up at him intently. Then she grinned again and kept her eyes focused on his. "You're flirting with me, aren't you, Mitch?"

"I'm not flirting, Emmie, just stating the facts," Mitchell replied, casting his gaze down and away. There was a warm flush filling his cheeks. "It's just that you act so sexy sometimes, it makes it hard on an old fart like me."

"You're not an old fart," she said. "Not at all. You're actually kind of cute, you know."

"And more than twice your age," Mitch replied. It was plain that several glasses of wine had combined with the late hour and Emily's presence to lift the restrictions on their conversation.

"Older men can be so sexy-well to me at least," Emily replied. Her blue-green eyes were lustrous and gleaming.

"Well, look at who is flirting now," Mitchell chuckled with amusement.

"I'm not flirting, just stating the facts," she responded and then stuck her tongue out playfully. She held out her empty wine glass. "Can you pour some more of that?"

Mitchell filled her glass.

"What a great night," Emily said, leaning back and looking up at the stars.

"It is," Mitchell replied. "And thanks for all your help today."

"You're welcome," Emily said. "We have some really great neighbors. It nice to meet so many of them."

Mitchell chuckled at the way she said, "we" so casually as if they were a couple or a family.

"So have you and Brian been together for a long time?" Mitchell asked.

"Ever since high school. He was my first I guess you could say. He walked me home from school one afternoon and seduced me with the offer of a massage and it was great. He's a terrific lover."

"Okay," Mitchell said, holding up his hand. "TMI."

Emily giggled. "Sorry."

"You seem pretty free and open about sex," Mitchell commented.

"I'm not ashamed of my sexuality if that's what you mean," Emily said, sipping her wine and looking at Mitchell eye to eye. Then she laughed, "Better than keeping it all hush-hush like it used to be in the old days."

"I know. I've noticed that you and your friends are very upfront about sex. I think it's really great, very refreshing, I'm just not used to it."

"I am very open about my life. You can ask me anything."

"What's your favorite position?"

"Um, either on top or doggy, but pressed up against the shower wall taken from behind is right up there."

"Those are all pretty good."

Mitchell could feel the rising tide of arousal build up inside him.

"So what's your fave?" Emily asked him.

"I'd have to say anything that lets me see your face-er, I mean her face. You know the look in her eyes when I enter her."

"Missionary? That's kind of boring don't you think?"

"Not necessarily missionary. There are a lot of ways to make love and still maintain eye contact."

"So now we're making love? I thought we were talking about having sex."

"Well there has to be love in there somewhere before there's sex."

"Sweet man."

"So what's something that I might never suspect about you?"

"That I have this kinky submissive streak."

"Kinky, like being tied up and all that?"

"Yeah ... blindfolded, cuffed to the bed, a little light whipping. Kind of kinky, huh?"

Emily let out a sexy giggle.

"What about threesomes?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, her voice growing soft and dreamy. "Watching two guys kiss is such a turn on, and then to have them both at the same time is incredible, I never came like I did that night, ever!"

"Wow, that is pretty wild," Mitchell remarked.

"I'll bet that you never had a threesome," she teased. "I'll bet that you probably even married the first woman you ever had sex with."

"No, I didn't," Mitchell protested. "In fact quite the opposite. I've had a few partners, a couple of threesomes, did some pretty crazy things in my time. Back when I was in college, I lived a pretty wild life. It was the Seventies then. I was in a rock band. We experimented a lot."

"You sound a little like my folks."

"We are of the same generation I'd guess," Mitchell admitted. "What about Brian? Does he play around too?"

"He likes to explore too. I know that he has fooled around with some crazy shit too. He's bi you know. He was one of the guys in the threesome I was telling you about."

"Hmm. Why am I not surprised?" Mitchell chuckled. "What about women?"

"I played around a little, just to experiment," Emily admitted. "It was fun and enjoyable, but my taste definitely runs toward men. Girls are so soft and curvy, but I prefer a man's strong hard body." Emily paused and looked at him. "What about men? You ever been with one?"

"I shared a woman with another guy a couple times, but there was no touching between us," Mitchell confessed. "To be honest, I just don't find anything stimulating about a man's body, but put me with a woman, and my imagination knows no bounds."

The way Emily was looking at him, Mitchell wasn't sure just what she was thinking. She was showing a sweet little grin and the sprawled position of her body was incredibly sexy.

"So what's the wildest thing you've ever done?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe dressing up in leather and playing Domme."

"Oh, baby! Spank me!" Mitchell chuckled.

"Don't laugh. It was really hot. I even got a leather bustier out of it."

"I'm not laughing."

"I know," Emily remarked. Her sparkling blue-green eyes swept up over his body. "You're picturing me wearing it and you're getting turned on thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Well, picturing you in a tight leather bustier with a whip in your hands is a pretty stimulating image." Mitchell could easily envision Emily, her tall trim body and great rack fitted into that outfit.

"You should try it some time. You might like it."

"I'd like it more if the whip was in my hands and you were bent over my lap."

"Ooo, baby. Now I'm the one getting turned on," Emily said softly. "So tell me your wildest experience."

"Doing it on the balcony of our hotel room down in Jamaica and having the people across the way applaud after she came."

Emily giggled. As she sat next to him in the glow of the pool lights, Mitchell sighed. Her expression was radiant and rosy. A vintage wine will help do that. Her eyes were lustrous and expressive. Her impish spirit had a lot to do that that. The way her body was posed in the chair, casually leaning back, her long legs stretched out before her, her breasts heaving with each breath underneath the thin damp cotton of her top, were all planting ideas in Mitchell's head. Then Mitchell looked around and saw that the last few guests were heading toward the door.

"Whoa. Guess it's getting late," he said. "I should say goodbye to my friends."

They both got up and walked the last few guests to the front door.

"Nice meeting you, Emily," said Karen Winter, giving Emily a warm embrace. "Hope to see more of you around the neighborhood."

"Thanks. Thanks for coming," Emily replied.

"Take care, you two. Thanks for having us," Pete said shaking Mitchell's hand. Then he turned toward Emily and gave her a polite, neighborly hug. "Nice meeting you, kiddo. Take care of this guy for us, okay?"

"I sure will," Emily responded. She gave Mitchell a little wink over Pete's shoulder as the neighbor gave her a gentle squeeze.

Emily and Mitchell stood at the doorway and waved at their departing neighbors.

"I hope they'll all be okay," Emily remarked as Mitchell closed the front door and set the lock. A couple seemed pretty wasted."

"I don't think they give out tickets for walking under the influence," Mitchell replied. "Besides, there are plenty of bushes to puke in, case they get sick along the way."

"Oh, gross!" Emily laughed and went into the kitchen to finish cleaning up while Mitchell made one last tour of the deck and pool area, arranging the furniture and retrieving all the stray cups and dishes. He was about to snap off the lights when Emily joined him on the deck and slumped into a chair with a sigh.

"I need a break," she said. "I am beat."

"Why don't you call it a night? I can handle the rest," Mitchell offered.

"That's okay. I want to help you," Emily said, starting to get up.

Mitchell moved behind her and rested his hand on her shoulders to keep her in the nestled in the soft cushions of the deck chair.

"No way," Mitchell said. "You just sit here and take a load off. You've already done too much as it is."

"But tomorrow is my off day. I can sleep late."

Mitchell didn't withdraw his hands from her shoulders, instead choosing to keep them on her, starting to massage her shoulders gently. Emily leaned back into the light pressure of his palms.

"Mmm, that feels good, Mitch," she sighed, letting her head tilt forward so his fingers could work on the tight muscles of her neck. "You didn't tell me that you knew massage."

"I don't," Mitchell admitted. "Not really like an expert. An old girlfriend showed me a few things a long time ago, but I've learned that it's mostly doing what comes naturally."

"Whatever, it feels really, really good."

Mitchell worked his fingers and palms up her neck and then out along her shoulders. Emily's skin felt so soft and smooth. As his hands moved on her, a strap of her tank top slipped off her shoulder. When Mitchell looked down at her, the tank top had fallen away and the upper curve of her breast had come into view nearly as far down as her nipple. His loosened inhibitions flirted with the urge to reach down and cup the perfect, fully rounded swell of her breast. But when his hands reached the edge of her shoulders, Mitchell moved away.

"Oh, don't stop," Emily said. "I was just getting into that."

"So was I," he replied. "That's why I stopped."

Emily looked up at him. "Can I ask you something, Mitch?"

"Sure anything."

"You are a really great guy, and I really enjoy working for you with the kids. This is a dream job for me."

"So what's the question?"

"It's just that sometimes you act kind of strange around me. Like just now, when you were massaging my shoulders. You like all of a sudden stop what you're doing and back away. What's with that?"

"You don't want to know," he said, sitting at a chair near her, but not next to her.

"Yes, I do. I asked to know."

"Emily, you're a terrific girl. It's been such a joy having you around here, I can't begin to thank you," Mitchell said slowly, leaning toward Emily and looking directly at her big blue-green eyes. "But there are times when I find myself thinking things that are really ... really ... really inappropriate."

"Inappropriate? Like what sort of inappropriate?"

"Like lustful thoughts," he answered, his eyes lifting to her for a moment before looking off in the direction of the pool. "Really, really lustful thoughts."

"You sound like an old-fashioned Bible-thumping preacher, Mitch," Emily replied with girlish giggle. "Like what kind of lust? Like you want to kiss me? Like you want to touch me? Like you want to fuck me?"

Mitchell looked back at her again and nodded.

"Oh, all of the above?" Emily chuckled sweetly. "I didn't know you had it in you, Mitch. I'm flattered, I really am." She leaned forward and reached for his hand. "You are so cute when you get this way. I've seen the way you look at me sometimes. A girl knows these sorts of things, and can sometimes have the same sort of feelings. I'm just surprised that you hadn't said anything before now. That tells me that you're a gentleman too. I like that."

"Through no fault of your own, you've made this living arrangement difficult. Most of the time I'm okay, but there are times when ... when ... when I wish I was twenty years younger."

"But if you were, then you wouldn't have had your wonderful kids or become the man you are, a very attractive man."

"Don't be playing with me."

"I'm not playing," Emily said softly. "I don't play with people."

"You have a boyfriend," Mitchell said. "Which is another reason why I won't do anything."