Unfinished Business

With all right in his world, Gary had no trouble falling asp. Robert, on the other hand, still found himself awake a half hour later. It was impossible to get the image of Lisa going down on his friend out of his head, even if most of it came from his imagination. Still, just the thought was enough to produce a first-class hard-on. One that refused to go down -- at least not without help.

'Well, I'm certainly not going to jerk off with Gary laying only a couple of feet away,' Robert thought as, tossing the sheet off him, he got up and as quietly as he could headed for the bathroom down the hall.

The Evans home had both a full bath on the second floor and a half one down by the kitchen. Because of the renovation work being done upstairs, he and Gary had used the smaller restroom before heading off to bed. As a result, Robert wasn't aware that the light switch by the door had been temporarily replaced by a pull chain on the overhanging light fixture.

When the light failed to come on after trying it a few times, he decided that there was enough light coming in from the window to do what he was there to do and sat himself down on the closed lid of the toilet. Then, dropping his pajama bottoms and shorts, the teenager took matters in hand.

Already hard, it didn't take long for Robert to reach the edge of orgasm, but as he tried to replace the image of Lisa Ann in his head with that of Amber, the former kept reasserting herself. Thinking about the buxom redhead sucking his cock made him feel a bit guilty, but not so much that he was going to stop.

Finally, he said 'fuck it,' and, grabbing a handful of toilet paper from the dispenser, Robert closed his eyes and leaned back against the porcelain tank behind him. He was oh so close, any second now.

Suddenly, his world exploded, and not in the way he'd planned. The room filled with light, bright enough for him to realize it even through closed eyelids. His eyes snapped open to see, much to his horror, Mrs. Evans standing over him in her nightgown.

At the time, Clarice Evans, who stood five four, weighed a hundred and sixty pounds. Which was significantly more than she'd been when she'd bought the negligée she was wearing. As a result, her breasts pressed tightly against the thin material, causing her thick nipples to be prominently displayed.

Clarice hadn't been paying much attention as she stepped into the darkened room, reaching out for where she knew the pull chain would be hanging and pulling down on it in a reflex motion. It wasn't until the room flooded with light that she realized that she wasn't alone, by which time she was right on top of the half-naked teen.

The sight of the older woman's breasts only inches from his face caused Robert to suddenly freeze, his hand abruptly released its grip on his cock. Unfortunately, some things, once set in motion, can't be stopped and the eruption he'd triggered followed a short breath later. His cock exploded in a burst of youthful fury, sending viscous droplets of white into the air, the bulk of which landed on Clarice's partially exposed mounds.

'Oh God, oh God...' Robert repeated in his mind, unable to believe what had just happened. His face turned pale as he looked in dismay at the woman he had debased -- the look of shock on her face unnervingly chilling.

A riveting stillness gripped the air as the stocky woman just stood there, staring at his erect cock, the length of it covered with the aftermath of his climax -- at least that part of it not spread all over her chest. Then, without saying a word, she abruptly turned and hurried out of the bathroom, leaving him alone in his mortification.

The next morning, when he and Gary came down for breakfast, Robert dreaded the thought of what Clarice might say about what had happened. He wondered if he should apologize, but what could he say? Thankfully, Mr. Evans had already left for work before they entered the kitchen.

To Robert's immense relief, Clarice made no reference to the incident at all -- at least not directly. The closest she came was an almost casual comment to her son that the lock on the bathroom door was still slipping and that she'd appreciate it if he'd stop by the hardware store and pick up a new one.

"Well, it's ancient history now," Robert said to himself as he steered the rental car into the parking lot behind the bookstore.

-=-=-=-

The book signings only took about a half hour, and Robert spent another twenty minutes talking to Mr. Harrison about the summers he worked at the bookstore as a sales clerk. The seventy-five-year-old had been one of the few people who encouraged him to write, and his accolades meant far more than the views of the teachers at Hanley. While at Fitzgerald's, he also made use of the store's bathroom to change from his suit to more comfortable slacks and a short-sleeved shirt.

Leaving the bookstore, Robert left his car in the parking lot so that he could stroll around the center of town. Not much had changed over the last few years and he felt a bit nostalgic as he walked down familiar streets. Two blocks over from the book store, he spotted the brightly colored art deco sign for Brannigan's Ice Cream Shoppe, a place where he'd spent many a summer afternoon. Wondering if the banana shakes were still as good as he remembered, Robert crossed the street and headed for the old-time confectionery.

Even more than the rest of the town, Brannigan's was like stepping into a past time. Built in 1940, its décor had changed little in the succeeding decades. On the left side of the rectangularly shaped shop stood a row of artistically carved booths, and to the right a long marble counter, fronted by a row of wood-topped swivel stools. Behind the counter, on a mirrored wall, rested shelves of glass jars filled with various toppings, the contents reflected in the reflective surface.

'Too bad the prices aren't still the same,' Robert chuckled under his breath as his eyes came to the store's wooden framed menu. Still, if the shakes were half as good as he remembered, they were worth the increased price.

There were two customers sharing one of the booths, but Robert didn't see anyone behind the counter. Probably getting something from the back, he thought. The bells on the door had announced his entry, so he slid onto one of the stools and waited.

Sure enough, a figure in white blouse and slacks emerged from the back room a few moments later. Backed into the room would be a more accurate description as it wasn't until the curly haired brunette turned and laid the box that she was carrying on the counter that Robert recognized another familiar face.

"As I live and breathe, is that the famous author, Bobby Archer sitting in my soda shop?" she said. "I heard someone say that you were going to speak at the graduation. How are you?"

Not waiting for a reply, she flipped up the hinged section of the counter and rushed out from behind it to throw her arms around the unexpected arrival, hugging him so hard that he almost fell off the stool.

It took a long moment and a step back by the excited woman for Robert to catch his breath long enough to answer. As he did, he found his eyes automatically drawn to the bodacious bust that had fascinated him so much back in high school.

"Hello, Amber," Robert said as he forced his gaze to shift up toward her face.

"Still can't keep your eyes off them, can you?" she laughed, letting him know she'd caught him looking. "It's nice to see some things don't change."

"I guess not," Robert grinned.

"Although it doesn't take more than a look to see that you have," Amber said as she gave him an exaggerated once over. "It looks like life has been good to you."

"I guess you could say that," he replied as he also took a moment to take a better look at his former girlfriend. "You still look the same," he offered.

"Liar," Amber again laughed. "I know I sample the merchandise more often than I should."

Robert just smiled, thinking that the few extra pounds that she'd put on really didn't make her any less attractive.

Another moment passed, then two, as memories of days and nights of long ago flashed through both their minds. Finally, Amber broke the silence.

"How long are you in town for?" she asked.

"Just the day," he replied. "I'm driving up to see my parents in the morning."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said, disappointment in her tone. "Are you sure you can't stay longer?"

"Well, they are expecting me," he said.

"We'll just have to make the most of your time here, then," she replied. "My uncle still owns the place, but I manage it now, so what can I get you?"

"I was passing by and found myself remembering how good your uncle's banana shakes used to taste on a hot summer afternoon," he replied, "and decided to see if whoever ran the place now made them as good."

"Well, I won't say I'm as good as he was," Amber smiled as she moved to step back behind the counter, "but I'm sure I can take care of you."

There was an inflection in her tone as she said those last words that again brought Robert back to nights up on Newtown Ridge when he'd have given anything to hear her say something like that.

"Why don't you take one of the tables and I'll bring it over to you," Amber suggested, leaning forward over the counter just far enough to give him another good view of her breasts -- which looked even bigger than they had in high school.

Glancing back at the mostly empty row of booths, Robert thought that wasn't a bad idea. Sliding off the counter stool, he headed for a table at the far end. When Amber followed a few minutes later with his drink, there was a second glass on her tray.

"I know I probably shouldn't, but this is a special occasion," Amber said as, after sliding into the other side of the booth, she picked up the large metal cup she had made the shake in and split the contents between the two glasses.

"So, what's life like up there in New York?" she asked before taking a sip of her drink.

"Different," Robert simply replied, not really wanting to get into a long discussion on the subject.

Thankfully, despite having asked the question, Amber didn't really seem interested enough to follow up on it.

"I don't see a ring on your finger so I'm assuming that you're not married," she said instead. "Girlfriend?"

"No one special," Robert said.

"But you do still like girls, right?" she said after taking another drink.

"What kind of question is that?" he asked in surprise.

"Well, I read an article in a magazine that said there were a lot of those kinds of people up there in New York, especially in the arts and stuff," she said. "So, it seemed the kind of thing I should ask."

Robert had no doubt as to who Amber meant by 'those kinds of people.' As a successful new author, he was often invited to parties where he met a varied assortment of people, some of whom, it turned out, preferred the company of their own sex. He'd even been asked out by a few, but found that a simple 'no' was usually enough to discourage further interest. Since then, he learned to judge people by far more important criteria than who they shared their bed with.

"Yes, I still like girls," he replied with a smile.

Amber's own smile grew brighter.

"What about you?" Robert asked.

"What do you mean?" Amber asked in response, thinking for a second if he was asking if she liked girls.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he clarified, also having noticed the lack of a ring on her hand.

"Well, Henry Davis and I go out most weekends," she answered, "but we're not engaged or anything like that."

The emphasis she put on the last part left Robert with no doubt that she wanted him to know she was still available if he was interested. There was a time when he'd have jumped at the opportunity, but that time had passed. He might have gone off to college a virgin, but he hadn't remained one for long.

Tarrington College didn't have the reputation of some of the more well-known schools in the Northeast, but it did have a first-class writing program. It was also a place where having had your work published carried more weight than a letterman's jacket. It was a rare weekend that he'd lacked female companionship, a condition that only improved once his first novel had been published. He didn't sleep with every woman he dated, but scored enough to have a respectable batting average.

"You know, if you stayed for the rest of the weekend, we could have dinner," Amber offered, another display of her breasts suggesting what she might have in mind for dessert.

"I really promised I'd be there tomorrow morning," he lied, implying that he needed to get to bed early -- and alone. His parents really weren't expecting him until Monday night. He just figured that travel would be easier on Sunday.

"Oh, that's too bad," Amber sighed.

"Did you ever read my books?" Robert asked, changing the subject.

"Am I in them?" she asked, making it obvious that she hadn't.

"No, I'm afraid not," he simply said.

"Oh," Amber replied, but then added, "You know I've never been much of a reader."

Robert almost sighed, but then, again glancing at her chest, remembered that he hadn't been dating her for her mind back in school.

"I have a new novel coming out next week," he offered instead. "That's what I was doing at Fitzgerald's before I came here, signing some advance copies. If you like, I can call Mr. Harrison and have him put a copy aside for you."

"That would be awesome," Amber gushed.

"Consider it done," Robert smiled, even though he put the odds on her even picking up the book, much less reading it, as slim to none.

They chatted a few more minutes, bringing Robert up to speed on what life had brought to common friends. Finally, he made a point of glancing at his watch and saying he was going to be late for an appointment.

"I really am glad that we had a chance to catch up," he said, rising to his feet as he asked what he owed her for the shake.

"It's on the house," Amber said as she followed his lead and slipped out of the booth.

She leaned forward and gave him another hug, this time kissing him on his cheek. As she did so, she whispered into his ear. "You know, if I'd known you were going to turn out this fine, I'd probably have let you get into my pants up on Newtown Ridge," she said.

As she released her embrace, Robert wondered if the comment had been a suggestion that it wasn't too late to correct that oversight. If so, he chose to let it pass unacknowledged. Instead, while Amber's attention was distracted, he surreptitiously dropped a five-dollar bill into the tip jar.

As he walked down the street to retrieve his car, Robert reflected on why he'd turned down Amber's offer. It wasn't like he had a problem with one-night stands. He'd certainly had his share of them. The simple answer was that he wasn't the person he'd been in high school, and Amber still was. Being an airhead with great boobs might've been attractive when they were teenagers, but at almost twenty-four he needed something more in a woman, even if he was only spending a few hours with her.

Taking the long way out to the Evans' beachfront house, Robert drove up past Newtown Ridge and was saddened to see that the area had become more developed over the last few years, enough so that today's kids had to find another place to make out. He idly wondered where that was.

It was only six-forty when he pulled up in front of Clarice's, giving him time to take a short walk down by the shoreline and reminisce further. How many times had he, Gary, and the rest of the gang hung out on the small beach?

A smile filled his face as he recalled the afternoon when he'd been sitting on the sand talking to Joyce Matthews. Unknown to the well stacked blonde, Gary had snuck up behind her and undone the top laces that held her bikini's halter top in place. It then fell forward, exposing her breasts. Robert had never seen bare boobs before, at least not outside of a skin magazine. He'd caught hell from Joyce for not warning her of what Gary was doing, but from his perspective it had been worth it.

A call from the back porch told him that dinner was almost ready, and with a final glance, Robert left the memories of his youth behind and headed for the staircase leading back up to the house.

-=-=-=-

"This is really good," Robert said as lifted another piece of grilled chicken to his mouth.

"I'm betting you don't get chicken like that up North," Clarice said with a smile.

"No, I can't say that I do," he replied, thinking at least to himself that there were things he enjoyed back in New York that couldn't be found here.

"I don't get the chance to cook that often, at least not for other people. Oh, I make a nice dinner when Gary, Lisa and the kids come to visit, but they haven't been able to do that for a while now. Gary is pretty busy these days with the store."

"So, he's doing good?" Robert asked as he followed the chicken with a sip from his juice glass.

"Yes, he is," Clarice said as she took a taste of her own drink, "quite good in fact. They're even planning to expand the store, come the fall."

"That's great," Robert noted, glad to see that his old friend had his own degree of success. "I have to say, though, I'd never have imagined that retail would be the thing that Gary turned out to be great at."

"You're not the only one," Clarice confessed. "When Russell Cooper first proposed putting Gary in charge of the new store that he was opening, I thought he was making a horrible mistake. I know that's a terrible thing for a mother to say, but I knew my son. He did prove me wrong though. I guess the responsibility of having a wife and baby finally made him grow up."

Robert didn't say it, but he'd had the same thought when his friend had told him that he was going to be a store manager. Stockboy maybe, but the guy running everything -- no way. In the end, he was also glad to be proven wrong.

"Did you get everything done at Fitzgerald's that you needed to do?" Clarice asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, I did," he replied.

"You said the new book goes on sale next week?" she asked.

Robert replied in the affirmative.

"I'll have to be sure and pick up a copy," Clarice said. "I really enjoyed both of your other books."

"You read them?" Robert said, a noticeable surprise in his tone.

"Of course," Clarice replied with a broad smile. "I especially enjoyed 'Twilight's Kiss,' not that 'The Devil's Touch' wasn't good as well."

"You know, I actually bought a copy of the new book from Mr. Harrison," Robert said. "I know that sounds silly, buying my own book, but I thought it might make a nice souvenir, having come from Fitzgerald's. Why don't you take it? It's the least I can do in exchange for this really great meal."

"I really wouldn't want to take your souvenir..." Clarice started to say, but then admitted that she did, adding, "You'll autograph it for me, of course."

"Of course," Robert smiled.

"So, did you enjoy seeing the town again?" Clarice asked, moving the conversation onward.

"Very much. Some things seemed the same, some not so," Robert observed. "I did stop at Brannigan's for a shake and ran into Amber Clayton; she runs the place now."

"Amber..." Clarice mused softly for a moment, trying to place the name. "Oh yes, that's the girl you were dating back when Gary first started going out with Lisa. A pretty brunette if I remember correctly. How is she?"

"Also doing well," Robert replied. "It was nice to see her. We spent a little time catching up."

"I remember you really had a thing for her," Clarice said, now recalling her more clearly. "I'm surprised that you didn't ask her out to dinner, to see if there were any sparks left?"

"Well, I think she's seeing someone," Robert shared, leaving out the part that despite that, she had suggested dinner. "Besides, I already said I'd have dinner with you."