Whoosh, Bang! Ch. 03

"I think I do. ... I didn't want to be the first one," she replied hesitantly, but then added more confidently:

"But I really didn't want there to be too many, and didn't think there had been 'too many'."

"You do understand, and you aren't, either way, and Anne is one of the three."

"Oh, that's good!"

She squeezed his hand and raised her head to smile at him, and he did the same.

"Come here, on the pillows, its more fun to be able to look at you, ... and feel your warm eyes."

"And you, too," he agreed in a much more cheerful tone and sat up and joined her with their heads on the pillows, their hands finding each other again.

He smiled and then scowled slightly and said:

"Funny how those few words about that can be misunderstood."

"Um-hmm, my wilful inference and your unintentional implication."

"You use the language well. Maybe it was unintentional when I said it, but the implication occurred too, when I heard myself."

"Maybe just recognized that I could make the inference?"

"About the same thing; I could have footnoted my information."

"Hm-hm-hmm! If we'd been doing that, there would have had to have been lots of them."

"It would have been number sixty-nine, of course."

They both laughed, and she replied:

"I wanted you to say that."

"I'm putty in your hands."

"But not for long," she responded with a smirk and glanced down at his cock."

He snickered with a nod, and she grinned and asked:

"You want me to knead you? You can spell that however you wish."

He snickered again and replied:

"Not with a K right now, but when I do, I'll knead your breasts."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll feel like they need that."

"And then I'll need something else."

"But not to be kneed," and she drew her leg up and gently touched him where it could hurt.

"Oooh! I didn't think of that, but it would be all right if you need me a little, ... just two or three times a day."

"Like this?" and she touched him with her knee a couple of times more."

His delighted expression during their play on words became more serious, and he replied:

"I'd rather you need me one of the other ways."

"Me, too," she agreed, and their hands clasped as they smiled again.

She extended her foot over his leg and urged him to draw it up, and they rolled their hips forward, her leg then resting comfortably on his. After a few moments enjoying the increased contact, she returned to their previous discussion:

"Only three? Anne and your cousin, and ...?"

Before he could reply, she said:

"Oh, I'm asking too many questions."

"Hm-hmm, and they've all been good, for different reasons. Besides, I want to tell you, since it was so good ... in a couple of ways, ... three - to keep you from being the first one."

"Um-hmm?"

"A couple of years after we moved here, we had a French au pair for the girls, finished her baccalaureate and one year at university, but wanted to perfect her English. Hm-hmm! I hope she didn't too much; her accent was charming. ... Well, that didn't occur to me until later.

"At Christmas, Anne took the girls to spend it with her parents for a few days, over New Year's, but I could only get away from Christmas Eve until a day after Christmas.

"So there we were, Yvonne and I. Oh, she wore glasses, which didn't do anything for her looks. She was to prepare supper for us two while Anne was away and did. The first evening was fine - I mean, sort of neutral - but the meal was better than I had expected, and I complimented her on it, and she looked pleased. Oh, she had asked if we could have wine with it, which we don't do during the week, but I agreed, thinking she was accustomed to having wine with her meals, and it was her meal, so we did ..."

"Which made things a little friendlier," Barbara interjected.

"Um-hmm, a little easier to talk. I had hardly talked with her till then. And the next evening ... - well, you can imagine, knowing what's going to happen - it was the same way, the talking a little easier, and it was a Friday, and when we had finished our meal and the wine, she suggested making coffee, so I helped her clear the table, which surprised her, but she seemed to like my helping her, and for the first time, I noticed what she was wearing, not anything revealing or whatever, just that I noticed. And we had coffee, and for some reason - I guess to show my worldly ways, and being Friday - I suggested that we could have cognac with it."

"Hm-hmm! You said I know where this is leading."

"Um-hmm! You want the short version? I never told anyone this before."

"Oh no! I want to enjoy the long version."

"Me, too, kind of fun recalling it."

"I hope so."

"So there we were, having coffee and cognac at the dinner table."

"By candle light?"

"Hm-hmm! That was all that was missing. No, but the lights in the dining room aren't too bright. And we finished our coffee and cognac. Oh, maybe she thought my offering cognac suggested something."

"It didn't?"

"Somehow, I think we went through this before."

"Um-hmm, sort of, but then you were young and innocent about how girls ..."

"Young women"

"... can think."

"Very, ... still am, ... at least until a little while ago."

"Forget it; knowing too much would take the fun out of it."

"I think you're right, but I am sure I can't forget now, now that you've told me."

"Sorry. I guess I'll have to take the blame again."

"You've more than made up for my loss of innocence."

"You, too, ... and it's been - being - more than fun."

"Um-hmm. ... Anyway, so there we were, again clearing the table and in the kitchen - with just the light over the stove on - and she was standing closer to me than necessary, and I wasn't minding ..."

"You're good about 'not minding'. Nice things happen."

"I'll try to remember that. And I looked down at her - she was petit - and saw that her nipples were aroused - not so petit nipples, ... nor her breasts, for that matter - and she was looking up at me with big brown eyes, suddenly without her glasses, and lips that looked like they wanted to be kissed, leaning closer with a sleepy look ..."

"Bedroom eyes?"

"Very, and 'warm eyes' too, if you know what I mean."

"Hm-hmm, very!"

"So I did what any man would in that situation, and she didn't seem surprised or in the least offended, on the contrary! So we ended up in her room, in the dark, in bed, and when I started to do what I wanted, she immediately ... Oh, I was wanting her too, lying so that she could, and she did, and I was so aroused that I came before I could think about whether she might not want me to, but she wasn't minding, only wanting me to make her come, and I did.

"Funny, she said something in French and then remembered to use English and said: 'Tastes strange,' and I was thinking it was her first time, if she said that - not that it had seemed like it - but she always said it, I discovered later."

"Hmm! It does, of course. Hm-hmm! Maybe different from in France, and she had so much experience there, that it was always a surprise with you."

"Hmm! Well, she did have more experience than I expected - and than I had - ways to do it, that and otherwise."

"Like?"

"You would ask. Like wanting to sit on my face ..."

"That's real good! Thanks, Yvonne."

"Um-hmm, and wanting to do it standing up, me carrying her."

"Also good? Easier, her being petit."

"Yeah, both times. Anyway, of course, it was a little funny in the morning, but we managed that, and I still had a couple of rubbers from earlier, and she had 'condoms'. We used them, when we weren't doing it the other way."

"Sure seems to confirm the stories that all French girls do it."

"Um-hmm. She did, at least. Oh, and then later, when we talked about it, I did get the impression that it was very common in France. Hmm! She even admitted that a lot of girls - well, 'a lot' from the way she told it, did it with each other."

"Oh! Slept with each other?"

"Um-hmm. Don't remember how we got to talking about that, but she didn't seem to be bothered about telling me - oh, said something about girls ..."

"Young women"

"... young women enjoying doing what men did with them."

"Oooh! ... I guess if you like it ... If they don't have a hang-up about it ...?"

"That's what I was thinking, after I got over the first shock when she told me that. ...

So, anyway, we had a good few days. Of course, it was more than a bit strange when the family returned, but Yvonne dealt with that better than I did, not showing the least interest - until Anne was away for a weekend. Yvonne immediately indicated that we could again, also the next time we had a chance, a couple of times.

"Maybe it was the difference in languages, cultures. It was very easy - except for my conscience - but because she just turned it off when Anne was there, that made that easier.

Funny, she always called me 'monsieur' when we were in her room. She addressed me as Mister elsewhere in the house, even those first days, when we were alone. I said she could use my first name, but she explained that it might slip out at the wrong time."

"Clever, and probably right."

"Um-hmm. And the end of the story is that she had a 'naughty' French novel. Oh, I did tell her that she was the first gir... young woman to do it that good. She was very surprised, especially that Anne didn't. When I saw the novel in her room, even I - without French - could see that it was 'naughty,' and she told me as much, not even snickering when she told me what she used it for. That was some time in the spring.

"Did she or I suggest that she leave it for Anne to find? She reads French, speaks it quite well, too, but might have had to look up a few words in the book. Anyway, Yvonne left it in her bedside table, and Anne did find it - never told me, but it wasn't there later. And then Anne surprised me by going all the way. Luckily, she liked it, even said that she wished she had dared to much earlier."

"Think she suspected anything? ... No, I shouldn't ask that."

"Pretty sure she didn't; always spoke nicely about Yvonne, and I played dumb, of course."

"That's nice, actually real good, that Anne found the book and dared to."

"I like to think so."

"Oh, it is!"

They clasped hand again, with smiles.

"And French girls like to do it with each other," Barbara mused softly.

"Seemed so. I used to think about it, thinking that it must be good to know just what it was feeling like for each other."

"Um-hmm, that occurred to me, too. ... Hmm?!"

"Have a good girlfriend?"

"Don't ask! ... Not one that I could ask about that."

She snickered, smiling wryly at the admission that she had thought about the possibility.

"Pool?" he suggested.

"And beer, if I may."

"Good idea."

They got up and went to the kitchen, snickering again about her clothes there. Before he could open the beer bottles, she felt the urge to go to bathroom, and they both went back to the bedroom, to the bathroom there, and then returned to the kitchen and started on their beers with "prost," and went out on the patio, agreeing to finish their beers first. They sat back down again and enjoyed the sun. After another sip, Barbara mused:

"I wonder what would have happened if it had been raining yesterday morning, if I had then decided to come this morning, and you'd been at church."

"I'm glad it didn't. Maybe - just maybe - I would have thought to leave a note for you at the door. In any case, I would have given you a rain check for next weekend."

"But by then, maybe the interns would have planned something for Saturday, after another Friday evening. Someone was already talking about that."

"My bad luck, ... but the sun did shine."

"My good luck, ... and then it did rain," and she turned her head and smiled at him.

"And mine," he replied with a smile, and they drank to that.

They remained silent while they unhurriedly finished their beers and then stood up. She dove in; he slipped more quietly into the water. After only a couple of leisurely laps, they stopped swimming in chest-deep water, looking at each other and then smiling slightly.

"Warm eyes," she murmured, and he reached out and brushed her erect nipple with the back of his fingers.

"Remember what you said this morning," she added quietly.

"Um-hmm," he agreed with a nod.

They swam to the steps and got out and dried themselves.

"Shower?" he asked.

They went back to the bedroom. As they were entering the bathroom, she murmured:

"Maybe two showers," and looked up at him. He nodded and gestured for her to go first, replying:

"Or we might need another one."

"Um-hmm."

He handed her his washcloth before she closed the shower curtain and sat down on the toilet. After she had turned on the water and begun to wash herself, she said:

"I guess I should go home soon, so that you can get some work done."

"At least think about it, ... try to."

"All the more reason, before this evening with your friends."

"Um-hmm. ... Hmm? What did I do all weekend, if they ask?"

"Hm-hmm! I can think of an answer that might be construed two ways, one correct, the other a bit flippant."

"Hm-hmm! ... Too flippant, ... and too correct."

"Some work, reading the paper, swimming, feeling lonely, ... No, that could suggest you might do something about it ..."

"Too true!" he interjected.

"Missing your family, wondering what they're doing."

"Um-hmm, good, ... but not telling about wondering how they'll sunbathe on the Côte d'Azur?"

She pulled back the curtain, and he handed her her towel, and she began to dry herself:

"Not unless your friends ask you."

"He might, but not at home with his wife. I will have to read the papers."

She stepped out of the tub, and he got up and took her place, closing the curtain again.

She continued to dry herself, while he turned on the water, and there was a pause in the conversation. Then he asked her something softly, that the sound of the shower obscured. She stopped drying her hair and asked what he had said. Louder, but still tentatively, he repeated it:

"You do want to come back, don't you?"

"Very much, ... if you want me to."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked. I do."

After a pause, he asked hesitantly:

"More than just on the weekend? ... I would like you to."

"I don't know. ... Can we handle that?"

"You do ask the obvious question, the right question. I want to think we can."

"It will be easier for me."

"'Will', ... or 'would'?"

"It should have been 'would', but I said 'will'."

"Oh, you couldn't just move in completely; the cleaning woman comes on Thurdays, before I go to work. ... It would be sort of back and forth."

"That might make it easier, ... and if it didn't work, just 'back'."

"Um-hmm."

He pulled back the curtain and smiled at her a little quizzically, and she handed him his towel, with the same expression, then asking:

"Does she do the beds and kitchen?" She glanced at her towel and added: "And laundry."

"Not the beds, but you're right, we couldn't leave her a dishwasher full of two sets of everything."

"Or too many towels."

"I can tell her that friends were over to swim on the weekend."

"We'll just have to be sure there aren't too many in the wrong place, ... or long hairs."

He smiled at her acceptance that they would try it, and she smiled back with a soft snort and said:

"I guess we will," and they smiled again, exchanging nods.

She went back to drying her hair, and he stepped out of the tub and finished drying himself, snorting as he murmured to himself:

"Too many towels already. I wonder who was here this weekend."

"No one she also cleans for."

"Oooh, you're right; she does clean for people we know."

"Do we need a checklist?"

"Of unacceptable guests?"

"I was thinking more of what she does and what to avoid. Of course, I can do my laundry at the laundromat, even a towel or two."

"Good idea. We have a couple of days to think about that."

When he hung up his towel, she held hers up with a questioning look.

"She doesn't come till Thursday," he responded, and she hung it up and followed him out of the bathroom.

As he began to get dressed, she went to the kitchen and found her things, just putting on her panties and skirt and sandals and carrying her blouse as she went upstairs. In the younger girl's bedroom again, she looked at herself in the mirror, grinning at seeing herself with only a skirt on, and then found her bra and put it and then her blouse on, and brushed her hair. Then she returned to the ground floor with her bag, finding him bringing in the things they had left on the patio, and reminded him that he had to reset the alarm clock. When he returned, he said:

"I've been thinking: I have a meeting tomorrow evening - I guess I have to go to one about every week - and I could pick you up after the meeting - if you still want to?"

She nodded.

"How big a bag do you need for a few days' clothing? I guess it would be best if you went back to the apartment on Wednesdays, probably easier if you went from work."

She nodded again and said:

"I found an empty sports bag in one of the girls' rooms that would do."

"I feel bad about planning all this. Are you all right with it?"

"It has to be, as we discussed before. Yeah, but it's best. Maybe I shouldn't come back until Friday evening after drinking with the interns: a couple of evenings for laundry and stuff."

"Um-hmm, that's good. I'll probably be passed around for Friday dinners; a colleague invited me over last - no - two weeks ago. I'll give you a key, so if I'm not home yet, you can get in. ... Are you sure this is all right?"

"Um-hmm, but it doesn't have the charm of spontaneity."

"It sure doesn't."

"I'll get the bag," and she went off and returned with it and asked:

"Where can I get those rubbers - and some more?"

They both snorted, and he replied:

"Try Long's Drugstore at the shopping center. Wonder where they got them."

"Me too, probably not there. This will be a first; glad it's not at home."

"Thanks for handling it. ... Oh, if you want a gynaecologist, my wife likes hers, an understanding lady. She told Anne that she would prescribe the pill for Annette before she goes off to college, if we wanted her to. I'll get you her name and phone number."

He hurried off and returned and gave her slip of paper. She put it in her bag and that one in the sports bag, and they looked at each other with slightly disappointed looking expressions.

"We only have to do this once, getting organized," she said quietly.

"Um-hmm, but I still didn't like it."

"If it doesn't work out, then we've already had the best of it."

"I hope not, not that I can imagine it getting better."

"Just 'very very good' will be all right."

He smiled at her having quoted his words and taken the sting out their previous conversation, and she smiled back, pleased that she had been able to. He accompanied her to the door and offered her his hand, his nice warm hand, as they looked in each other's eyes, only smiling slightly. Then her smile broadened a little, and she said:

"Warm eyes, even if you can't see them."

He smiled more broadly with a snort and nodded, replying:

"Till tomorrow evening," and she was off.

It did work out.

He picked her up, and she settled in, hiding her clothes and personal things in Annette's room and using the upstairs bathroom for everything but showers, to make sure they didn't overlook something of hers downstairs. The first Wednesday evening, she joined him again, just to help make sure they didn't miss anything before the cleaning woman came. He joked about the "four-eyes principle" she had learned in the bank. He gave her a key to the house, and then she went back to her apartment.