Unbundling Tamara

All lof my writing is fiction, and the characters are products of my imagination. This story does have hints of long-ago sexual abuse but no details. If that bothers you, this may not be the story for you. All characters are eighteen years of age or older. I hope you enjoy the story and will take the time to rate it and comment.

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"Glad you're doing so well, Mom. What's that?"

I didn't particularly like it when my mother called me at work, but she was sharp enough to know that was the best time to get me. I usually didn't pick up my cell, letting it go to voicemail, then deciding when or whether I wanted to respond. Maybe a little selfish, but, eh. But for Mom, I knew I'd better answer.

"No, I don't think I need to have all my elementary school papers and tests. I'm not going to look at them."

I felt a little bad about that--she's saved those papers for years, but I didn't need them or even want them. I was sure they'd just get moldy in my basement, and I'd eventually throw them away. Might as well let that happen sooner than later.

"I'm not sure about the furniture either. The high school papers too? I'll stop by sometime next week, and we'll figure it out."

My house was still a little short of furnishings, but I wasn't sure I wanted the things mother was offering. I remembered a few of them--maybe I could refinish them or maybe paint them or...

"Hey, Mom, someone's waving at me, so I need to get to work. Sure. And no, I won't forget to stop by next week."

I hung up and motioned for Tammy to come in. I wondered what would happen now, as I always did when Tamara Golubev paid me a visit. One thing was certain, though. It would get around to safety before the visit was over.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" I asked, my plastic smile firmly in place.

"You never enjoy my visits, Andrews, so don't start with the bull."

"That's not totally true, Tam. There were several--"

"--times I'd done something stupid," she interrupted, "and then you got to gloat."

She'd hit the nail pretty much square on the head. It was always an occasion when Miss Almost-Always-Perfect did something that allowed the rest of us a little snicker. It didn't happen often, of course, but I savored those moments.

Tam and I had discovered that there was only two months difference in our ages as if that mattered. Except when I wanted to rag her about being an old lady. As always, I wondered what fascinating subject she might be here to discuss. (Read that as argue about.)

"What are we going to do about these earbuds?"

"What earbuds?"

"Half the men down there are listening to music, or blogs, or who knows what," she said, waving her arms.

"Just the men?" I said snidely, knowing it would ratchet her up about two levels.

"Don't change the subject," she snapped back.

I cringed as I often did when Tammy snapped at me.

"We've got to get that stopped," you know.

"What? The earbuds?"

"Yes," she said, glaring at me.

I put on my "I'm stupid" face to keep her from chewing on me even more, then took a deep breath.

"Safety?" I asked, adding a stupid question to my stupid face. For Tammy, it was always about safety.

"Of course," she said with a snicker. "I suppose you don't think it's dangerous for people to be listening to music or some sports or political blog while they're supposed to be concentrating on their work or operating some dangerous equipment?"

"I suppose it could be, but at least if they're listening, they're alert and awake. I watch some of the guys--and ladies--downstairs, and they look like they're in a trance. You're listening to acid rock; you're awake and ready."

I never listened to acid rock or anything else of that ilk. It wasn't my thing, but I could see that, if you were rockin' to the beat, you'd be awake and ready.

"Do you really believe all that?" she asked, an incredulous look on her face.

I wasn't anxious to address that since we were just talking abstractions here. I needed to let her see some realities if I hoped to convince her that I was right.

"Let's walk downstairs and look around, see what's happening down there, and then we can talk some more."

"You really think that's going to help? Just walking around and looking?"

"Like chicken soup, it shouldn't hurt, Tam."

She sighed. "Where do you get all these stupid bon mots that you use all the time?"

I just stared at her. What the hell was a "bon mot?" I guess she finally realized how dumbfounded I was.

"Witty sayings," she added, looking away.

I chuckled. "I don't know, just very perceptive, I guess." I figured that would throw her.

"Whatever. Let's go down."

We left the office, and I followed her down the stairs, concentrating on the very tight bun that plastered her hair against the back of her head. I wondered if it hurt; it looked so tight.

"See, Tam, now just look around--"

"--Eddie, what do you think you're doing there," she yelled, nearly sprinting away from me.

"What, Ms. Golubev?" A wide-eyed Eddie had stopped in his tracks.

"What is this, Eddie? What is this?" Tamara was pointing to the floor.

"It's a yellow line."

"That's exactly what it is, and it was painted there for a reason. All of the skids have to be behind the yellow line and out of the aisle." Tammy was pointing at two skids that extended about one foot over the line and into the aisle.

"Don't know who set them like that," Eddie said, trying somehow to escape Tamara's wrath.

"Doesn't matter, Eddie. You're the lead and responsible for safety in this area, so let's get them moved back right away."

"I'll take care of it, Ms. Golubev."

Tammy's standing still, hands on hips, told him she was going to stay right there until they were moved. He started toward a nearby forklift at a jog.

"No running!" she called loudly.

Three more minutes and the skids were moved behind the line. "Thanks, Eddie," she said and walked toward me shaking her head.

I had my mouth open to say something when--

"--Linda, is that a glass bottle?"

"Sorry, Tammy," a red-faced older lady said. "My sixth-grader packed my snack today, and I guess we're out of cans of Coke."

"Glass is dangerous out here, you know. Go ahead and drink it and then can it."

Once more, I watched Tammy stand, hands on hips, to watch her orders being carried out. I was beginning to think we were on a fruitless journey here, the earbuds forgotten.

"Now, Marc, where were we?" Her broad smile told me she was proud of what she'd just accomplished.

"Earbuds," I suggested.

"Oh yeah," she said, looking around. "I haven't seen anyone--no, no, no. You can't stack those three high. She was moving quickly toward some very large boxes.

"We're out of room. That's the only place to put them."

A very young-looking man with a ponytail had obviously only done what someone had told him to do.

"Being out of room doesn't make it okay to ignore safety rules," she reminded him.

"Where do I put them, then?" he asked helplessly.

"That's a question for your supervisor."

"He's the one who told me to stack them like this."

"Just tell him one of the safety people stopped you from doing it."

"Okay," he answered feebly, and I was sure he knew he'd be on the receiving end of his frustrated supervisor's wrath.

"Now, the earbuds," she said, then added. "What time is it.?

"Five till eleven."

A look of uncertainty crossed her face. "I have a meeting from eleven till noon. Should we get together this afternoon?"

I sighed. "This isn't Armageddon happening," I said. "Since it's Friday, why don't we wait till Monday?" I watched her shaking her head once more.

"Okay," she said, chuckling, and headed off to her meeting.

Another battle postponed.

After work, I went to Rocky's for a relaxing beer and, if I was lucky, a little conversation. Rocky's was a small neighborhood bar with very predictable clientele, at least in terms of who would be there on any particular day of the week. That's why I was surprised when Rocky nudged me when I came in.

"You're usually here on Saturday. Did she send you a message?"

"Who, you don't mean Anna?"

Rocky gestured toward the corner booth.

I slid in on the cracked vinyl pad opposite the curly-haired blonde with the fascinating blue eyes.

"Rocky said you probably wouldn't be here tonight."

"And, did that disappoint you?"

"You've never disappointed me, Marc," she said, a demure smile on her face.

"And I hope that never changes, Ms. Anna. So, is Friday one of your regular days here?"

"I don't have regular days anymore; just stop in once in a while when I'm, well, you know." She shrugged.

I'd known Anna since elementary school, so when she'd say, "you know," I usually did.

"I was hoping you might be here," she added, surprising me.

"You haven't forgotten that Saturday is my day?"

"Oh, no. But I'm busy Saturday."

The way she blinked and then looked away stroked my curiosity.

"You wouldn't have a date, would you?" I guessed.

She lifted her eyes to meet mine and smiled. Damn, those eyes were beautiful...and that smile.

"I have a date with Andre."

"Andre?"

"You don't know him." She chuckled. "I barely know him. But I'm going to work at taking care of that."

What Anna had just told me didn't align very well with her saying she was hoping I'd be here tonight.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her look was questioning and a little anxious.

"Just wondering?"

"Why I came here tonight?"

"As always, Anna, you've read my mind." People who knew us wondered why Anna and I didn't marry, as we were together so often. It just wasn't meant to be, and we were happy with the relationship that had evolved over the years.

"Why do I always come, Marc?"

"What about Andre?" It was my turn to be confused.

"It's our second date. He'll get a kiss, maybe a good kiss if all goes well, but that's it. If he can't be satisfied with that, he's the wrong guy...again."

"What about you, then?"

"You know me; I'm not satisfied. That's why I'm here...and you're here too. We need each other."

I needed to process what she'd said, even though her words were very clear. Date with Andre, and here tonight to see me.

"Which white are you drinking tonight?"

Anna thought for a moment. "I told Rocky to pick one." She shrugged.

"I'll get you a refill."

I went to the bar, spoke to Rocky, and returned to the booth with a glass of Chardonnay and a Coors Light.

"He says this is the only white he has tonight. So you won't be mixing your drinks."

"You ever try wine?" she asked as she took a long sip from the refilled glass.

"I stick to beer, yanno. It's easier and what I'm used to."

"You haven't answered my unspoken question, and I know you got the refill so you could decide what to do. And?"

Decided, I replied. "Your place or mine?"

"Doesn't matter to me, except there's no beer at my place."

"And no wine at mine."

We shared a laugh at that and, even though this seemed just a little strange, those blue eyes wouldn't turn me loose, so I paid.

Anna had a new boyfriend, and, for a change, she sounded a little encouraged, although, in this day and age, when guys expected at least a blowjob by the second date, she might be pushing her luck. Still, I looked forward to my time with her and had for the past who-knows-how-many years. We had a very workable arrangement that seemed to be enough to keep both of us satisfied and took away the need for hookups and one-night-stands.

It had all started innocently enough. As I mentioned before, we'd been friends since elementary school, and when we got to high school, that didn't change but resulted in something very different and unexpected happening. Anna and I had a couple of dates, but we were too much friends for anything to develop along those lines. We each began dating other people, nothing serious, but one day she looked me up, a serious look on her face. With very rosy cheeks, she told me she was terrified that one of the guys would want to do something that had to do with sex, and she had no idea what to do or what the guy might expect. She asked if I'd teach her so she'd be ready when the time came.

It seemed a little sick that, with both of us eighteen years old, she was asking me to give her sex lessons. I didn't know shit about sex then either, except the misinformation that high school boys share so freely. I timidly asked if she wanted me to explain things to her, and she let me know that would be fine, but she wanted me to show her as well. I went to the public library, sneaked around in the reference area, medical books and stuff, and tried to figure out all about sex. I talked to a buddy I felt I could trust, and he got information from his older brother, and I became an "expert."

We each found a box of condoms in our parent's dresser drawers and stole a couple of them to get us started. We experimented and, when we'd figured things out, discovered that we enjoyed sex. So, periodically, we'd get together to see if there was more we could learn and different things we could do. We stopped when Anna began dating Doug, and when they got married, I was sure my times with her were over. When Doug was killed a year later in a motorcycle accident, a sad but needy Anna looked me up, and we'd been at it ever since.

"We never decided," I said when we got to the parking lot.

"Let's go to yours. I get dirty looks from my neighbor for a week every time you spend the night."

"I wouldn't have to stay the night."

She looked at me and sent me an adorable smile. "It's a bit of a waste to get together and only do it once."

I had no argument for that.

"I'll even drink one of your beers," she said, heading for her car. "See you in a few."

I waited for her at the front door while she parked her car, and as she walked across the parking lot in her short skirt, sleeveless blouse, and small heels, I could see why I never minded getting together with her. Her very engaging look was very appealing, partly because I knew that, once inside, that winsome face would transform into a steamy sexiness that was irresistible. Her inexplicable poor choice of men since Doug was the only thing that kept me in the picture.

"Do you really want a beer?"

"Yeah, maybe two or three. A little buzz makes things, well, nicer, you know."

"I don't know, Anna. If things with you got any nicer, I might not survive."

She laughed as I handed her the beer. "After how many years now, eleven or twelve, you don't have to smooze me, you know."

It was my turn to laugh. "If Andre sticks around and plays your game, when he finally scores, he'll be so blown away there's no way he'll let you go."

"Interesting choice of words there, 'blown.'"

"No pun intended, but one of your specialties. When's that going to happen?"

"No plans, just going with the flow. But, since you brought it up, sort of, are you going to hit on that lady you work with?"

"Tammy? I'm not sure she's hittable."

"So, are you losing it, then?"

"Whatever I had, I've still got, but she's, well, I don't know."

"Now you've piqued my curiosity. Tell me more about her. But first, I need another beer."

Back from the kitchen with two beers, I stared into those blue eyes and tried to think about Tamara Golubev.

"She's a little different, but aren't we all? Wears glasses, kind of auburn hair, always in a tight bun that looks like it might hurt. Most of the time, she wears long dresses, I mean six inches above the ankles, long and loose and floppy. She has sweatshirts that must be 2XL, but she's nowhere near that size."

"She trying to hide her figure?"

"I have no idea if she has a figure to hide."

"You said she has auburn hair. What color are her eyes, and does she have freckles to go with her hair?"

"Freckles? There's no skin showing except for her face...and the light reflects off her glasses, so, no idea on the eyes."

"Andrews, you're slipping, man." She giggled.

Must be the beer, I decided. But was she right? Was I slipping?

"Ask her for a date. Find out what she looks like." Another loud giggle followed by a big swallow of beer.

"I doubt she's interested in having a date with me."

"She isn't married or engaged, is she?"

"No." At least she didn't wear any rings. I automatically checked that with every woman I met.

"I dare you, dork, ask her for a date. She may be hot, hot, hot."

Anna didn't know Tammy, and no one who did would describe her as hot, hot, hot. But that was for another day.

"Speaking of hot, hot, hot, do you need another beer, or are you there?" I was sure ready. As I watched Anna take off her blouse, then unfasten her bra and toss it aside, I knew she was ready.

"Take your pants off," she said, sensuously licking her lips.

"And if I do?"

"Your cock will find the back of my throat very quickly." Anna dropped to her knees, massaging her breasts and tugging on her nipples, a look of lustful anticipation on her face.

This, of course, was not my first time with Anna, and I wasted no time jerking my pants and boxers off. Almost before I had straightened, her nose was buried in my pubes, her lips and tongue drawing loud groans from deep within my soul. Her hands dug into my buns, and, as her mouth produced a familiar but ecstatic feeling in my overheated body, I knew what was coming next. Sure enough, a carefully manicured finger was probing my ass.

"Anna," I gasped, looking down to see those blue eyes looking up at me, my erection moving in and out of her mouth. Even after all these years, she was often more than I could handle. It seemed that tonight might be one of those times as Anna wasn't slowing down one bit. My blood felt like it was boiling, and my crotch seemed to have a mind of its own, twisting and thrusting in time with the movement of Anna's delectable mouth. The sensations she was producing overwhelmed my brain, and my body wanted only one thing. Watching those blue eyes and her lips sliding back and forth on my cock, I could feel it building and then building some more.

I groaned loudly as I began to spasm, hot liquid filling her mouth with each spasm, my hands filled with that curly blonde hair as I didn't want it to stop. She pushed forward one last time, then released me with a final swallow.

"Glad you're spending the night," I said when my breath returned.

"You didn't like that?"

I just laughed.

"I love looking at those delicious tits of yours, but you better get that skirt off."

"As you wish, sir. What do you plan to do to me?"

"I'll take requests." I'd said that to her before and wondered how she'd respond tonight.

"I'm so horny tonight; I'm all yours, so do whatever you can imagine."

That was certainly a different response than I'd gotten before, and, often, I had a very fertile imagination, particularly when it came to Anna. A couple of ideas pushed their way into my consciousness, and I smiled.

"Oh, lord," Anna groaned. "I've seen that smile before. You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

"Maybe an extra twist on your nipple," I teased, happy to have the upper hand after what she'd done to me just minutes ago. "Plus, you always look fantastic when you're naked."

Anna lay back on the bed, smiling at me, ready for whatever I might have in store. She had an amazingly sultry look, and the way she slowly spread her legs, revealing what had been hidden only seconds before was tantalizing. She lifted her hips, and I began to caress the unbelievably soft and flawlessly smooth skin of her thighs.

"They're amazing," I said, watching her chest rise and fall with the change in her breathing as I continued to caress that enthralling flesh that never failed to fill me with renewed passion, despite having done it for years.

"Anna wants more," she said softly.