Back Door Woman


Friday. A mild fall evening in Texas. There it was again-the funny feeling. I'd had it off and on since I woke up this morning, and I was experiencing it again now, now when I was about to load the grill with more of what seemed a ton of food for my friends. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but an anticipatory one. I kept glancing at the redwood fence's gate, also redwood, and I avoided any excitement I could have felt if I'd allowed myself to believe that my funny feeling was associated with a possible visit from Kiefer. A visit seemed unlikely since 24 filming was in full swing, but the feeling had proven pretty sure in the past. I managed to turn the meat and get the veggies on the grill and then mumbled an offer to retrieve more beer and wine. I certainly wasn't going to answer my friend Sarah's most recent question honestly.

"What's wrong with you, P.J.," she asked. "You've been more there than here since we arrived."

"Where's there," asked David.

"Oh, don't be obtuse, David. You know that's a figure of speech."

I smiled, an attempt at normalcy, and told Sarah, hence the group, that I had simply been distracted by thinking about my upcoming lecture tour.

"This one's different," I said. "This one takes me to two universities I've never been to in this capacity before. I get nervous, a good kind of nervous, going to new places."

A few years before, I'd gotten out of the full time classroom and begun to teach as a guest lecturer around the metroplex area and to travel to universities and colleges throughout the country delivering lectures on various pieces of literature and literary periods. I was enjoying my new lifestyle. Although it was in some ways more hectic, there was also more free time when I scheduled it. A more flexible schedule meant more chances of being free when Kiefer had a few days off.

"You'll love Pepperdine," Beth said. "I used to visit there when I was at UCLA. I had a friend there."

My friend Beth had attended UCLA in the early 70s and was very fond of recalling her days in Southern California. My friends, all of whom were also colleagues, were more than that-because I had no relatives, they were my family as well. I'd known most of them for twenty years or more, and although they knew much about me, there was much they did not know, too. They knew that I'd been in relationships, but they were long distance relationships and my friends were not privy to the details. They were, however, nosy, constantly asking me who I was seeing, what the person was like, and when they were going to meet him. They continually tried to fix me up with men. When I met Kiefer, about a decade ago, I told them about it but they didn't know whom I was talking about really until I said he was Donald Sutherland's son. "Oh, yeah, Donald, he's cool," they said.

More recently, D'Ann, my large, beautiful-souled friend, had gotten everyone interested in Kiefer because of 24. To her credit, she had been a rabid Kiefer fan for many years, but she was the newest member of the group and had not been around those many years ago when I told my story about meeting Kiefer. The others had probably neither believed nor disbelieved me because they were indifferent. Of what importance was a Kiefer Sutherland? If D'Ann only knew. She had managed over the past two years to draw Sarah, Beth, and Jennifer into a Kiefer frenzy and had even gotten David and Jared to watch more than a few Kiefer flicks. In fact, one night a month the four of us ladies get together for a "Kiefer-fest." We choose two movies, watch them in succession, get increasingly drunk as the night progresses, and discuss the merits and demerits of the movies. Hell, even Dark City gets good reviews if it's the second movie and the margaritas are good!

Beth continued her California talk. "Really, you won't feel uncomfortable at Pepperdine at all. I think you'll really like it. You'll have to look up my friend Cheryl while you're there. How long are you going to stay?"

"Oh, I'll be there for awhile. Probably a month, at least. It's not just a Pepperdine trip. I'll be doing some research for a piece I'm writing for that journal published by the U of C Press."

Although all of my friends were quite intelligent, Beth was the most intellectual and certainly the most conservative personality of the group. Sometimes she surprised us with glimpses into her California past. Since we had known her though, we'd seen only a staid, deliberate character-steadfast, trustworthy, loyal, and suspicious for her friends. We could count on Beth to ask the right questions for us when she surmised we were on the brink of trouble. D'Ann, despite her less than modest size, was a gregarious, urbane, witty woman who could tell stories of her years in New York with abandon. Jennifer, a musical artist, was delicate and brash at the same time, and her voice held the same melodious quality as her piano performances. David, a very organized and intelligent man, was well read and able to converse decently on a number of topics. Jared, a dancer, director, and actor, was opinionated and entertaining. Sarah was just Sarah. She was a professor and a lawyer, brilliant, scattered, and giving to a fault. Sarah, Beth, D'Ann, and Jennifer all had husbands in the past-I'd never met any of the husbands. Although D'Ann had a string of men friends, the others had no known love interests. Made me wonder why they were always harping on me to find someone. David had a wonderful companion, John, with whom he'd been involved for seven years. John rarely accompanied David to our gatherings and Stacy, Jared's wife, never came. She was considerably younger than us and preferred time with their four year old son. Our ages ranged from 40 to 57, with me being somewhere close to the median at 49. We were comfortable together.

Comfortable. Yeah. That's what Kiefer and I had been from the moment we'd met. Within an hour or two, it was as if we'd known one another for ages. Ages. The difference between our ages didn't seem to matter to Kiefer at all-he seemed oblivious, in fact. It bothered me in that I worried about what his friends, or peers, or the media would say about him being with an 'old lady.' It was the reason, the only reason, I'd chosen to be a kind of back door woman. Kiefer and I were usually together here at my home, somewhere on vacation, or, not so frequently, in L.A. when I was in the area. I was thinking about my impending California trip when Beth's voice brought me back to reality.

Just as she was about to inquire more deeply into the trip, my chocolate Labrador began to whimper. He had been a puppy when Kiefer gave him to me four years ago. I was torn between calling him Young Tad, from Bright Lights, Big City, or Athos, from The Three Musketeers. Still undecided after all these years, I called him both, switching back and forth at will. Athos began to jump straight up in the air as well as whimper. Now I knew. My funny feeling had been accurate. Kiefer was here. Athos only whimpered and jumped straight up when Kiefer was near.

"What is it, Young Tad? Is Daddy here? Do you hear Daddy? Huh? Is he here?" I continued to cajole Athos as I neared his dogrun gate. I barely lifted the latch when Athos burst through and headed to the gate that led to the driveway and the detached garage at the back of my home. I continued to speak to Athos.

"Who do you hear, baby? Is it your daddy? Huh?"

Athos began to jump straight up, all four paws off the ground, head as near the top of the eight foot fence as possible. Suddenly, another head, or the top half of a head, appeared near the gate from the other side of the fence. Athos went crazy. He began to bark wildly and his tail became lethal as it wagged beyond description. The third time he jumped up, Kiefer grabbed the top of the fence and hung on, pulling his full face over the top of the fence and grinning widely at Athos. He panted like a dog, shaking his head, lolling his tongue out. Athos could no longer deal with the excitement.

"Open the gate for Daddy, Athos. Open it."

As if he could open the heavy apparatus, Athos went up to the gate. I stepped near and swung the gate open towards me as I stepped slightly behind it. Kiefer took a few steps inside before Athos jumped up to place his front paws on Kiefer's chest, a chest clothed in a very expensive suit. The tie was missing, a tie I imagined had been wadded up and stuffed in either a pocket in the suit or a pocket in the luggage which was visible on the drive. I closed the gate. Down Kiefer and Athos went into the soft grass, rolling and rolling, yelping and panting. Athos licked Kiefer mercilessly. I don't know which of us was more excited to see Kiefer, me or Athos. My heart was pounding wildly and my stomach was flittering as if I were a teenager encountering my first love. Finally, after a few minutes of play, Kiefer spoke to Athos in a low voice. Kiefer stood and Athos remained at his feet, staring up in adoration. I certainly knew how the dog felt. Rolling in the grass with Kiefer is good. He crossed the four or five feet of distance between us spreading his arms to enfold me as he stopped a few inches from me. The arms, welcome arms, wrapped around me, one arm around my waist and one around my shoulders. Kiefer's chin rested on the top of my head. I turned my head to the right and laid my cheek on Kiefer's chest. He smelled like Athos. He did not smell strongly of cigarettes and this meant he had taken the time to shower, shampoo, brush, and change clothes before he boarded a plane to Dallas. That made me feel special. He knew how I not only hated the fact that he still smoked, but also that I hated the lingering smell. The embrace was brief. He pulled back and I turned my head around and up to look into his face.

"Hi," he said. "I was in the neighborhood. You have a date? Am I barging in where I shouldn't be?"

"Yeah," I said, sweeping my hand in an imaginary circle around my friends. "I'm dating all of these people at the same time. The bed's hardly big enough for us all when we pile in!"

"Is that right? Well, I feel sorry for 'em. Even if there are six of 'em, they probably have a hard time keeping up with you, eh?" He grinned and I made a mock shocked face.

Kiefer turned to the group. I turned too. I hadn't given anything or anyone a thought since I realized Kiefer was here. Poor D'Ann was stunned. Her jaw was slack and her eyes glazed. I didn't have time to observe the others closely before Kiefer started introducing himself. He began on the left of the semicircle, saying hello first to David then Jared who were both now standing. Next, D'Ann, frozen in her seat, was regaled with a throaty hello and a comment about her beautiful red hair. I was sure she'd gotten off right there in her chair after that-perhaps even before! Kiefer then shook hands with Beth, commenting on the deep blue of her eyes, then with Jennifer, taking both of her hands into his and turning them over.

"You are a musician?"

"Y-y-yes," Jennifer stuttered.

"You have beautiful hands."

Kiefer finally turned to Sarah who wore a grin the size of her heart.

"Oh, it's so good to meet you," she cried. "You are so GOR-geous!"

Sarah's accent on the first syllable of 'gorgeous' was emphatic and elicited a bashful head nod from Kiefer. He mumbled a "thanks" and turned to me.

"Am I here at a bad time?" Kiefer's accent on 'am' told me he was seriously inquiring about his unannounced appearance.

"Of course not, pumpkin. I love it when you visit."

This time as he approached me I was calmer, and I could study his face long enough to figure out why he had shown up. He was tired. Physically and emotionally. The dark circles under the eyes and the diminished sparkle in the eyes were telltale signs. Hmmm. Tired. No delicious roll in the hay tonight. I should have been Athos. At least I would have gotten that roll in the grass. Oh, well. There was always tomorrow after a good night's rest and a meal or two. It was good just to be near him. He reached my side, turned me towards him, and placed his arms around my waist, saying he wanted 'chugar,' Kiefer's baby talk corruption of 'sugar.' I gladly supplied the requested kisses, pulling his head down and showering his face and hair with heartfelt kisses. If Kiefer had perfected anything in the world, it was kissing, and I wanted him to kiss me. After I had complied with his request, Kiefer moved his right arm up from my waist and tenderly cupped the left side of my face with his hand. He then tilted his head to his left and bent forward, nearing my lips with his. He kissed my bottom lip, then the top, switching back and forth, slightly sucking on them and sending all kinds of signals to all kinds of places within me. Damn that he was so tired. This was going to be hard, no pun intended. Kiefer nibbled noisily on my lips then my right ear. He pulled away, but his left hand remained on the right side of my face.

"I've missed you. It's good to be here." He then moved to the chaise lounge I had previously occupied and draped himself elegantly on it.

I continued to tingle with excitement as I replied, "I've missed you. I'm glad you're here." I paused, then continued. "We're havin' BBQ-beef, pork, and chicken-and grilled veggies. It'll be ready soon. What'll you have to drink? Beer? Wine? Herbal tea? Water? Tea? Coke? What?"

"Hmmm. What are you havin'?"

"Well, that doesn't make any difference. What do you want?"

"I think I could use some of that stuff you give me to calm me down, that, what kind of tea?"

"Chamomile tea. Comin' right up." I turned, walked around the end of the outdoor combination cooking island and bar, and headed to the French doors that led into the kitchen. I called over my shoulder for my friends to treat Kiefer decently. They laughed nervously, but I knew Kiefer would place them all at ease. Sure enough, by the time I returned from the kitchen with Kiefer's hot tea, D'Ann was in full swing doing her best, and they were good, Kiefer impressions. She probably knew more of his dialogue than he did. He was laughing hysterically as she did her best Pally LaMarr whine.

"I don't whine like that," Kiefer knowingly whined.

Then D'Ann cracked up, followed by the rest of us. We knew what we had to do after his leading line. The most watched of our DVDs was Truth Or Consequences, NM. We looked at one another and on cue all seven of us appropriately whined in our Curtis Freley voice, "I dunno why everybody's yellin' at me. I thought it went pretty well."

It was Kiefer's turn to crack up. I had stopped behind the island and now handed the cup of tea over the raised bar section at the front of the island as Kiefer stood to receive it. On my side of the island structure, at a comfortable waist height, was the grill, a fridge, a double sink, and a three burner gas cooktop. Kiefer smiled as he took the cup and returned to the lounge. I busied myself for the next quarter of an hour with turning meat and veggies as Kiefer drank his tea and he and my friends chatted. He and Beth had started a rather precarious and potentially dangerous dialogue about spirituality and organized religion. Because the bar was high enough that I was unable to see whether Kiefer had finished his tea, I stood on tiptoes and leaned forward to peer into his cup.

"Whatcha need, babe?" Kiefer asked.

"I was just checkin' to see if you needed more tea. Would you like some?"

"I'll get it. Kettle on?"

"Uh huh. The tea's on the counter. But I'll be happy to get it."

"I know, I know. But I need to get my luggage inside and change into something a little more suitable for barbecue. Excuse me for a minute," Kiefer said to anyone listening.

Jared stood up and headed to the gate, saying he'd get Kiefer's luggage and set it in the backdoor. Kiefer thanked him and said he'd meet Jared at the door. They both disappeared and a moment or two later, Jared returned to the semicircle.

Jared shook his head. "What is he doing here, P.?"

Jared fell in to his nickname for me, P, as he asked the question.

"I told y'all years ago that I'd met Kiefer-in Montana. You just weren't listenin'. And why he's here is because he's tired. I can tell that much from lookin' and listenin'."

"Tired of what?" David asked, not sarcastically, but incredulously. "Hollywood? Money? Fame? Beautiful women? Beautiful men? Oh, tell me not beautiful men, please."

"Well," I replied. "I don't know about the men, but I do know that a lot of that other stuff gets to him after awhile. He works like crazy, y'know. Long hours, long weeks."

Sarah sighed. "He does look tired. GOR-geous, but tired."

D'Ann was stupefied again. To herself more than anyone else, she mumbled, "Omigod. I've been laughing with Kiefer Sutherland." Then she riveted me with her eyes. "You've known him. All along. Why didn't you tell me? How did you meet him? When? Where?" Her questions tumbled out all at once. Then she began mumbling to herself again. "Omigod. I did a Kiefer impersonation with him watching. Omigod."

"It's ok, D'Ann. He loved it. He really laughed. You made him laugh and that makes him feel better. And the how, when, where questions are a whole other story."

All six pairs of eyes were on me, waiting for a more complete explanation than that. They were not to have it though.

Kiefer rarely moved slowly. He hadn't wasted any time changing clothes or refilling his teacup. He emerged from the French doors with his cup. D'Ann audibly choked. Sarah sucked in her breath. I'm not sure what Beth and Jennifer did. I think I even heard David whisper a faint "damn" under his breath. Why? Kiefer looked maddeningly attractive. Yes, the gazillion dollar suit was stunning. But the faded jeans and plain white t-shirt did even more for him. No shoes-bare feet. Mussed hair. His look begged for him to be cuddled and babied.

Baby," I said. "Do you need anything else? We'll be eating pretty soon."

"Nah. I think I'll sit here by you though-if you don't mind."

He pulled a stray barstool nearer me at my post behind the island.

"Of course, I don't mind."

I planted a kiss on his forehead. He grinned and resumed his conversation with Beth about spirituality.

As I checked the food again, I glanced down at Kiefer. The tight jeans revealed a hard on. Hmmm. Tired but not that tired, perhaps. He continued to talk, well, agreeably disagree, with Beth. They were having a rather spirited conversation. He glanced at me and noticed that I had been eyeing his crotch. He winked his right eye at me and reached his right hand to the back of my left leg right at the area behind my knee. He slowly moved the hand up to cup my left buttocks. Yeah. I was excited. I made an obvious point of leaning on my elbows, but I allowed my left hand to wander down to the bulge in Kiefer's jeans. I simply couldn't help myself. I managed to keep my head at about the same height, the height that those on the other side of the bar would see, moved myself to the left, and undid Kiefer's jeans with my left hand and a little help from the right one.

His penis was freed from the jeans-no underwear. I loved Kiefer's cock. He was circumcised, smooth, and, at this time, he was as hard and curved as a steel boomerang. I began to manually stimulate him with my left hand, but in my mind I was tasting him. He carried on the conversation, now expanded to the others as well, as if nothing were happening behind the bar. The bar stool allowed Kiefer's upper chest and head to be viewed by those before us. I continued to stimulate him, attentively screening his facial and body language to gauge when I needed to change tactics. I kept up my end of the game by moving my gaze from Kiefer to the appropriate respondent as the conversation continued. Soon, I knew it was near time for Kiefer to explode. I moved the metal spatula resting on the island's surface nearer me with my right hand and at the appropriate time noisily knocked it off the counter. Murmuring "Damn" and bending down ostensibly to retrieve the spatula, I quickly moved to Kiefer's cock. I hungrily took him into my mouth. I engulfed him near the penultimate moment. He grasped the edge of the bar's countertop and shuddered, imperceptibly to those on the other side of the bar, but noticeably to me as I greedily sucked the cum into my hot mouth. At the same time, I moved my right hand down into the jeans and onto Kiefer's balls. I gently massaged them as he filled my mouth with his cum. After draining him, I carefully disengaged my hands and mouth from that cock I loved so well. Kiefer shifted his body to the front of the barstool, resting his weight on the balls of his feet and stretching a bit, but he kept listening attentively to the conversation, thankfully being carried at the moment by David. Kiefer removed his right hand from the countertop and caressed the top of my head. I looked up at him as he glanced down. I silently giggled and then, for his benefit, completed a highly exaggerated swallowing motion as I prepared to stand.

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