Your Love

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The song by the Outfield.
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StangStar06
StangStar06
5,802 Followers

Yes ladies and Gents, it has happened again. My adorable wife has gone into our iTunes folder and discovered one of my songs from the 80's that she (born in 85) doesn't remember ever hearing. The song is Your Love, which is, I believe, the only hit by the Outfield. So after her playing it a hundred times over the past few days it got stuck in my head and this popped out. This one is short(er) and more fun than usual. The next one will probably be a Halloweeny story. Thanks to the great Barney-R for his editing chops especially on short notice. Gents and Ladies let's go back to the 80's. SS06

* * * * * *

"Why's your sister here?" I asked my wife Josie as I looked at her suitcase. "She gives me the creeps."

"Wayne, my sister is the least creepy girl on the planet," replied Josie. "Can you hurry up? We're gonna be late."

"She's always staring at me," I said. "Sometimes I feel like a fuckin' antelope around her."

"Wayne you run fast, Honey, but not that fast," she laughed. "My sister makes you feel like an antelope. I have to tell her that. There are legions of men following my sister around like she's the messiah and she makes you feel a deer. You're gonna have to explain that Honey, but keep packing."

"Okay," I said. "Imagine yourself on the plains. You are an antelope. You are the biggest fastest antelope in the whole fuckin' jungle. You are the shit. That's me." She giggled. I loved her laugh. It made her seem even younger than her twenty seven years.

"Okay, I am an antelope. And I'm the shit," she giggled. "I'm the fastest God Damned antelope in the whole fuckin' jungle."

"No you're not," I said. "I am, remember. I just wanted you to imagine how I feel."

"Okay, Honey, but what does you being an antelope have to do with your hands being on my tits?" she asked.

"I can do whatever I want," I said. "I'm the shit, remember? Anyway...I'm an antelope and I'm the shit. Until your sister comes along. I notice her and fear runs through me like shit through a goose. Your sister is a cheetah, and she's hungry. Guess what's on the menu?"

"A shitty Antelope?" she asked.

"Exactly," I said. "And around her, I am no longer the shit. She is shittier than me and I know it. What's worse is that she knows it. So she sits there on a tree limb watching me. It's a game to her. But it's my fuckin' life.

She just sits there watching me. She's waiting for me to make a move. Common sense tells me not to run. My brain tells me not to run because I'll just be tired when I die. But everything written into my DNA tells me to run. Of everyone in the herd I have the best chance to get away. I start breathing harder.

Then I realize that she's not really watching me. She's watching the entire herd. One of the smaller bucks kicks up his heels like he's gonna run. I know that she'll catch his clumsy ass before he goes three steps. He has no chance. He's just a fart with delusions of being the shit.

He kicks up his heels again and she slowly turns her head towards him. I take off, like I'm jet propelled. I am leaping and running and tearing up ground like the shit that I know I am. I am lightning personified. I am the quintessential avatar of motion. I am a fuckin' idiot. I feel her claws rake my hind quarters and suddenly I can no longer run.

There's blood all over the ground. It's mine of course. She was never looking at the entire herd. She only wanted me. She wanted me because, I was wrong. This was never a game to her. It was always about food for her babies. I'm the biggest. So I'm the most food. And I was never the shit.

As she rips out huge chunks of my flesh, she doesn't rejoice or do a little dance. It's just another day at the office for her and ..."

"And will you please finish packing my God Damned suitcase before I drop you off at the loony bin," said Josie.

"Wayne, my little sister does not eat shit," she said. "She does not want to do you any harm, silly. If she ever tried...she'd get a chance to see what a lioness does to a cheetah. Wayne, I shouldn't be telling you this but Alyssa has a crush on you. She has ever since she was a kid. But you're mine. So give her a break."

"Oooookay," I said with as little sarcasm as I could muster.

"I'm serious, Wayne," she said. "You should be flattered. Alyssa is younger than I am. She's prettier than I am and she's built better. A lot of guys would be happy."

"A lot of guys don't love their wives as much as I love you," I said. I held up my wedding ring so she could see it.

"I love you so much, Wayne," she gushed.

"Why don't you have a swim suit?" I asked.

"This is a business trip, Honey," she smiled. "If I was going for fun, you'd be coming with me. But this is a quick three day, take no prisoners assault. We go in, have a quick intro meeting. Visit their plant, make a proposal, negotiate a price and come home. We'll have no time for beaches or swimming pools."

"Okay, you're all packed," I said.

"Come here, love of my life," she growled. The kiss we exchanged was soft and warm, but hot at the same time."

"Josie, you're going to be late," said a voice behind us. I turned and looked into two eyes so deep they swallowed my soul.

There stood Alyssa, my wife's nineteen year old sister. Josie is five foot two and compactly built. She has big boobs and a big butt. Men have been known to get off of elevators just to follow her butt.

Alyssa on the other hand was five nine and defied anatomical physics. Her waist was so tiny you could get both of your hands around it and your fingers would touch. Yet her boobs were somehow the same size as Josie's. But coming off of that tiny waist and rib cage made them seem much bigger.

Her butt wasn't nearly as big, but it had the same shape and the same fullness. Her legs were at least a mile long and they were shaped like a dancer's.

Josie had dark hair, like their dad. She kept it cut short so it was easy to manage. Alyssa on the other hand had long strawberry blond hair with waves that flowed down her back.

They both had the same incredible gray eyes and right then Alyssa was using hers on me.

"I'll carry that bag down to the car, Wayne," she said.

"Thanks Alyssa," I said.

"Any time, Wayne. You're family. I love you," she said.

"Hey, what about me?" asked Josie.

"You're kind of a bitch, Sis," she said. Josie stuck her tongue out at her sister's departing back and pulled me in for another kiss.

"You rest up Mister," she said. "When I get back, I'm gonna give you a workout. You'll be walking funny for days." She reached around and slapped me on the butt.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the airport?" I asked. I picked up her other suitcase. "Jeezus, what's in here?"

"My Laptop, my projector. All the stuff I need for the presentation and a few odd and ends that you couldn't get into the bag you packed," she said. "Honey if you and I were going, I'd need two or three bags of just clothes. I have to look my best to keep my man interested. But for a business trip one bag of clothes, my carry-on bag and another bag of equipment is fine."

"That is so wrong," I said.

Josie turned and looked at me. I didn't catch it then, but her reaction was one of nervousness or fear.

"What's wrong, Honey?" she asked. The playfulness was gone from her face. And she looked afraid.

"If you and I were going and you wanted to look your best, you wouldn't pack any clothes at all," I said. She came back across the room and we were kissing again.

"Tick tock," said Alyssa behind us again.

Josie glanced at her watch and started cursing. "Fuck, I'm late," she said.

"Not yet," said Alyssa. "But I have a feeling that you will be." She had the weirdest, dead pan, Wednesday Adams look on her face.

"Alyssa, someday you'll meet a man that you won't be able to keep your hands off of too," I said.

"I already have," said Alyssa. "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to Wayne about. I don't know much about boy/girl relationships. This is my first one."

"Wow," I said. "I'd have thought that someone who looks like you would have to beat the boys off with a stick." Alyssa smiled so hard she glowed.

"I have been," she said. "And I'm pretty good with that stick. I have to make sure that only the right guy gets through it. That's why I need the advice from a male perspective."

"You could talk to your dad," I said. Both sisters laughed.

"Josie, you really need to get your ass in gear," said Alyssa. I grabbed Josie's hand and walked her downstairs to her car.

"Honey, if you're late, I could take you," I said pointing to my Mustang. It sat in our driveway looking as if it was ready to run. Beside Josie, my Mustang was my favorite thing.

"We both know that I'll never get all three of my bags in that car," giggled Josie. She reached up to kiss me.

"Tick Tock," said Alyssa behind us again. Josie smiled and shook her head. "Honey, be nice to her. Have this little talk with her. She's the only sister I have. Besides it will keep you from missing me too much. Spend some time with her. You guys need to bond."

"But look at her," I whispered. "She's perched on the porch like a cheetah waiting for a shitty antelope." Josie burst into laughter.

"Honey, a cheetah is the wrong type of pussy for you to be thinking about," she said. "You should be focused on the one between my legs. You should be thinking about how eager I'll be to give to the guy who helps my little sister out."

"I've already told John that I won't go on anymore business trips without you," she told me as she got into her car.

"That's unrealistic, Honey," I told her. "I might not want to go on a trip. I might be unable to get away from work myself. Or what if I have to go away for work? What matters is that I love you. And I trust you. John is a good guy; he wouldn't take you unless he absolutely needed you."

As I looked at her I saw tears running down her cheeks. "I love you so much, Wayne," she said. "But no matter what you think, this is our last time apart." She quickly kissed me one more time and then got into her car and drove away.

I turned back towards the house and noticed Alyssa sitting on the banister that surrounded our front porch. She wasn't sitting as much as perched there, waiting. For just a second, I thought about running.

"It's too late to run," she said.

* * * * * *

Josie

As soon as I got to the airport and parked my car, I realized that I was in trouble. For one thing I had less than twenty minutes to check in and get to my departure gate. For another thing my carry-on bag was missing.

I didn't understand it. I had put the bag in my car's trunk myself. I had no choice. I grabbed the two bags, one that Wayne had packed and the other full of my equipment. I thought about it then. Wayne hadn't actually put any of the bags in the trunk.

Alyssa had put one bag in the trunk and I'd put the other two in myself. That meant that I had to have been mistaken about putting the carry-on bag in the trunk. Wayne hadn't done it and my sister had no reason for taking my bag. I had probably just been so worked up thinking about these next three days, that I had simply goofed and left the bag somewhere in my house.

Since the bag locked, I had nothing to worry about. Even if Wayne found the bag he wouldn't damage the bag just to see what was inside of it. Since my cell phone was also in the bag, I couldn't call him until I got to my hotel. And if I didn't get my ass in gear, I wouldn't be going anywhere. So I ran through the airport, OJ-like, to check in and get to my gate.

I got to the gate with only seconds to spare. Some of the passengers were already on the plane. I sat down in my seat, next to my boss, John, who looked up as I sat down.

"I thought that you'd changed your mind," he said.

"Not a chance," I smirked. "I've been looking forward to this trip since the last one."

"Three days of sun and fun in Jamaica," he said.

"And we both know that most of the time we won't set foot outside of our room, right?" I said.

"We'll probably get tired at some point," he laughed. "But even tired, the sight of those big old titties wobbling would raise me from the dead," he whispered in my ear.

"I somehow forgot my carry-on bag," I said.

"So what," he said. "It's not like we're going on this trip to work."

"I bought five new sets of lingerie for you," I said.

"Save them for Wayne then," he said. "Oh shit! What if he finds your bag?"

"Wayne loves me. He'd never violate my privacy," I said. "He trusts me."

"That makes him a real dumb ass doesn't it?" he smirked.

"That makes you two of a kind then doesn't it?" I asked. "You think he's a dumb ass because he loves me. I think you're one because you married a woman you don't even love just for a job. Ten years from now when I'm a fat little housewife, my husband will still love me. I'll have a great life, full of love with Wayne and our kids. What will you have?

You'll be locked in a marriage to a woman you don't love and realistically, how much higher do you think you'll go in this company? Even though you married his daughter, the old man doesn't trust you. I think you've peaked."

"How did we get on this subject?" he asked.

"You started it by insulting Wayne," I said.

For the rest of the flight, we kept the conversation light. It really didn't matter because I was already angry. I decided that maybe what I'd told Wayne should be true. Not only should this be my last trip with John, it should be my last time with him as well. We'd had a good run, but sooner or later things like this either ended or the parties involved got caught.

I could not afford to lose Wayne over John. And I already knew that like those Mission impossible teams, if we got caught, John would disavow any guilt. It would all be my fault and he would hang me out to dry to save his career first and his marriage second.

I gave the whole situation a lot of thought. As I examined my affair, like an insect under a microscope, it opened my eyes. It had nothing to do with my marriage. My marriage to Wayne was a thing of joy and beauty. But like every truly beautiful item, there was a great deal of pain, suffering and ugliness behind it. Nike shoes and iPhones were made with child labor. Diamonds are mined in conditions where slave-like employees are worked almost to the point of death.

And just like my affair, none of them are necessities.

I told myself that I was a complicated person with multiple facets to my personality. I told myself that in order to be the beautiful person that Wayne loved, I had to let the ugly out, at least once in a while.

If the beast remained chained for too long, she could get out and hurt the people I loved.

* * * * * *

Wayne

"Ready for our talk, Honey?" she asked walking towards me in my living room. "Can we grill something and talk on your deck?"

I looked up at her, remembering my promise to Josie. I was sure my wife had no idea of the situation she was putting me in. I guess she counted on the fact that I loved her so much to keep me safe ... To keep us safe. But Alyssa was a pure force of nature.

As I looked towards her, nodding my agreement to her suggestion, I noticed that most of the buttons on her blouse were undone and the amount of cleavage she was displaying was dizzying. I guess she felt safe with me. And she also had her sister's habit of taking off her bra as soon as she could, to get comfortable.

I felt like a pervert. I'm a twenty eight year old married man. I'm knocking on the door to thirty. Alyssa at nineteen is barely out of childhood. She's at that awkward stage of being legally an adult, but still a teenager.

The worst part was that she trusted me enough to want my advice on her romantic problems and she felt comfortable enough around me to walk around half dressed, but I thought only of her as a sex object. I clearly needed to spend some time in church.

"Okay, you do the guy thing and grill us some meat. I'll whip up a sal... Maybe I'd better make fries," she smirked. "Guys hate salad."

She came towards me with her arms wide open. My mind told me that it was family bonding, like a child reaching for her father or her uncle. But the way her boobs shifted under the blouse exposing even more cleavage, seemed predatory.

"Hugs," she giggled. I wondered if every woman in their family had that enthralling laugh. As I reached for her I tried to make it a push away hug. The type where you try to make sure that your body doesn't come in contact with any dangerous body parts.

"You don't like me do you, Wayne?" she asked sadly.

"Of course, I do," I said.

"Then why did you hug me like I have leprosy?" she asked.

"I ... I ... I didn't want to accidentally bump into an inappropriate area," I said.

"You mean my boobs?" she laughed. "Wayne, they're pretty big. They're always in the way. I wanted you to hug me to show me that you care about me and we're close. I'm not worried about you touching my boobs accidentally."

"I'm sorry Lyss," I said. "I was trying not to offend you."

"Don't be sorry, Honey, just do better," she smiled. This time I reached out for her. I hugged her the way I hug Josie. Her large boobs flattened against my chest and she pulled herself even closer to me. I was sure that she would feel the enlarging of my crotch as my dick grew. Surprisingly she didn't back away and she also held me against her so I couldn't.

Then it happened. Shock went through me as I was sure I'd felt her pulse her crotch against me. Maybe I was mistaken. Her sister did that all the time, so maybe I missed Josie so much that I was projecting her moves onto Alyssa.

As I finally pulled away from her, there was no mistaking the sigh she let out. There was also no mistaking how prominent her nipples were after the hug.

I hadn't mentioned it, but her calling me "Honey" un-nerved me. And the look she had on those gray eyes reminded me of the look her sister always got in her very similar gray eyes when they were filled with lust.

"Uhm ... I'll get the grill started," I said before ducking out the back door.

I sat down on my deck and took several deep breaths. I felt like I was trapped in a movie. It would be one of those slapstick comedies, where a normal guy is tempted by a hot teenage girl who wants to fuck him as some sort of sorority pledge thing. Then I realized it was even worse. It was like one of those Internet stories. Just Plain Bob wrote a couple of those stories where a guy had a really hot woman come on to him and try to seduce him. After the guy does it, his wife jumps out of the bushes and tells him that since he has cheated, she gets to screw another person too. She says that it's the only way their marriage can be healed.

Of course the guy she picks turns out to be a seven foot tall black guy with a bald head and a foot long dick that's as thick as a beer can. The guy loves his wife so he regretfully goes along with it. And of course the seductress turns out to have been working with the wife all along to set the guy up. Whenever I read those stories, I always think about those words of wisdom imparted by my favorite afternoon sports talk radio host, Terrence Reginald Foster, who said and I quote, "Let the bitch walk."

But now smelling a set up I started to become really suspicious. I turned on the grill and as it heated up I looked around the yard and deck for cameras or to see if someone was watching me.

I went into the kitchen to get a couple of steaks and saw Alyssa at the stove humming as she fried the potatoes. She had somehow lost her super tight jeans and made things even worse. All I could see was those long sculptured legs of hers.

I wondered exactly how short the shorts she was wearing were. I shook my head to clear it, picked out two steaks and headed back to the deck.

StangStar06
StangStar06
5,802 Followers