Baggage and Fantasies Ch. 01

"What do you have in your hand?"

"Your cock."

"Can you feel it dance inside you? I can feel your wetness pushing out around it and running down onto my balls only to drip through the bench onto the grass. I can feel your muscles contract around my shaft and feel your body try to move to rub it against your clit so no one will know."

"Please, Craig."

"Squeeze, your pussy for me. You know how. Even with my cock buried in your womb, I would still want to lick you, suck you and taste the slippery wetness that flows from you. Your movements would be so slight but all the pressure would be on your clit."

I kissed around her ear, licked at it, sucked her ear lobe and continued. "You would quickly discover you were in control, my body would shudder trying to hold back but you would know that you could make me cum any time you wanted to. You body would play mine so easily. Think about how you would squeeze me and suck me. Show me, suck my tongue."

She sucked and dove deeper into our shared fantasy. The river, the rain, Portland and the world had disappeared. I could feel the ripples go through her body as she squeezed her special muscles and rubbed her legs just perfectly to bring herself pleasure. She moaned into my mouth again, her hips thrust and her hand squeezed even tighter. My fingers only lightly squeezed her nipple but it was enough, she sucked my tongue harder and came.

I held my treasure while her body trembled to recover. Finally, Ann brought both her hands to my chest to push me just a few inches away.

"That has never happened to me before. Just with your words, you ................"

I kissed at her eyes, her lips and her neck. "Yes, Pretty One, they were my words but it was your mind that made them real, breathed passion into them and created something special."

We had held hands most of the day, but leading her away from our special post, our hand holding was different. We found a wine tasting tent and had an after sex drink together and looked dreamily into each other's eyes.

Sanity returned, beauty waned, thoughts started again and inadequate words replaced perfect communication.

"Was that an example of what some of the dancers referred to as verbal fantasies you played with them?"

"Being with you today has been wonderful. I have enjoyed my time with you more than I can remember. Yes, Ann, that is an example of a verbal fantasy."

"It is getting late; I think you should take me home."

"I had hoped we could dance tonight and get to know each other more."

"Craig, I need to get home."

I had seen this before. My imagination, my desire to please, being too honest and my need to have a female friend had driven this one away too. I could even write her objection, "It was such an intense personal feeling, I feel so cheap knowing that you do this with other women and enjoy it so much."

Four months ago, I would have anguished and suffered over what I had done. I would have spent hours trying to understand my error and wrong doing. I would have pleaded my case and told her that my offenses were before I had met her. My son was a lot like me. He loved the ladies too much except he was handsome and young. The gorgeous women sought him out and hurt him when they moved on to one of the dozens of offers they receive each day. He had started taking what he called his "I don't give a shit pill." He took an antidepressant because he cared too much and was so easily hurt. I learned from him; my pill is named, "Wellbutrin SR." I still care but could take the rejection better. I slipped away to a portable toilet and wrote her a note, knowing I would be taking her home early.

Dear Ann, I thoroughly enjoyed our only date together. You are such a great delight to me; I wanted to please you and see in your eyes that you were happy with me. Someday, I hope to meet an intelligent, imaginative, passionate woman like you who can put up with my writer's mind, my extensive baggage and still wants to share time with me. I believe you feel I have belittled you; I apologize; exactly the opposite is what I meant to do. You have taken my breath away and I meant to be special enough to you, for you to want to see me again. Sincerely, Dumb old fart.

I handed her that note when I dropped her off. I was sad but not as depressed as I would have been without my "I don't give a shit pill." I only know one way to get over such times. That is to work. I left my phones at home, stayed away from the bars and worked long hours every day. This had worked to forget Viet Nam, my first marriage, two girlfriends and almost to forget JP.

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My logic was suspect at best. For a month, I escaped successfully into wine and work. I turned my remodeling project over to my crew and moved to a new construction project where I could work alone.

I did not know, but Ann asked around to find me. The bartenders, verbal playmates and even Brandy did not offer to help. Finally, one evening she pleaded with Brandy, "I need to talk with him. I was so sure he was a player. Now I am not sure."

"Craig might be many things but he is not a player in terms of having many women and putting notches on his bedposts. Maybe you can get his son, Scott, to tell you where he is. Craig has more money than anyone should have. He really liked you. If I weren't married, I'd take him away from you in a second. Even now, it's not a bad idea. JP could still have him but she has her own issues. You should have gotten to know him; he is quite a guy."

Scott was almost blitzed when Brandy called Ann on a Wednesday night to tell her, he was at the bar. Ann hurried in and introduced herself. Scott was much more vocal and direct than his father. "So you are Ann." He leaned back, getting his eyes to focus as he scanned every inch of her. They settled on her breasts and he talked to them, "You do have a great body, beautiful boobs, but I bet you never put out for him. He is a dumb shit. Always caring and never getting anything."

"Scott, I want to find Craig and talk to him."

"Why? What do you want from him? Everyone wants crap from him. Even his wife takes for herself and for her kids. Leave him alone. Don't lead him on. Just ask him; he'll give you what you want; you don't have to hurt him or con him. Just ask."

For two hours Ann waited for openings while Scott shot pool. She kept at him. Even drunk he was good. He had had a good teacher. Scott was too drunk to drive his full sized pick-up truck. He finally agreed to show Ann where his dad was, if she would drive it. At eleven p.m. Craig was sleeping in a tattered, discarded recliner in a "building" with only framed walls.

"Scott, what are you doing way out here? You're drunk, like me. We have to get you home."

"This woman wanted to see you."

Craig looked past Scott and saw Ann. His tongue was thick with alcohol, "I thought we agreed to stay out of each other's female problems."

Ann stood there while they talked about her.

"This one is too pretty. You should talk to her."

"Damn, Scott, you and your boob issues. If she showed you her tits, you would give her the combination to the company safe."

"Talk to her, you old asshole."

Scott took over the trashed recliner and promptly passed out.

Craig rambled, "He works harder than you and I put together. He inherited his father's weaknesses and bad judgments with women. I didn't do him any favors. Why did you want to find me? I have shared verbal fantasies with other women before I met you, remember?"

Craig looked like hell. He had lost weight he could not afford to lose; he had not slept much in the last month, he was dead tired and had been drinking so he could sleep. His patience was thin and he had a mean streak that showed. "Ok, you were smart enough to use my drunken son to find me. You should have just asked my wife. My location is written on a pad beside her bed and her nurse would have read it to you."

"I wanted to tell you that I was wrong and would like to spend time with you and get to know you."

Craig was tired, hurt, angry, drunk and sharp, "Your are too young and pretty. You don't want to be with me. What do you want? Strip and let's fuck."

Even in his current state his own words offended him, "I'm sorry Ann, come see me when I'm decent. I haven't bathed in three days, shaved in five or slept well in weeks."

"But your house is coming along fine."

"No one ever complains about anything I build and my houses always sell."

Craig, punched in a few buttons on his son's cell phone, gave the address and pushed "off."

"What was that?"

"I've been drinking and trying to get over you. If we talk, you're going to get me to say stupid stuff. I called a taxi to take you home."

She started to object but he over talked her.

"I like you, want you and enjoy your company. That was not enough. I know that. I teased with you to please you and offended you. I wanted to lick your pussy until your eyes rolled back in orgasm and I could taste the juices from deep inside you. I did not know my place. All of these building supplies are happy with me. I belong with them. They let me make love to them and they whisper naughty things in my ears. Go home. Find a young handsome stud who lies that he has never looked at another woman."

Ann moved in even closer, grabbed a hand full of his hair and pulled his lips to hers. His breath smelled like stale alcohol and garlic heavy Chinese food. She kissed him squarely on the lips then said, "Give me you cell number and I'll go when the cab comes. But when I call, you answer or I'll find you and bite your nuts off."

His eyes didn't quite focus but they were large as half dollars. Something she said was getting through the alcohol fog. Something she said, said, "I care about you." Something she said, said, "I know all the scores and still want to see you." Something she said, said, "I accept you just as you are." His heart raced and his mind began to hope again.

As she drove away in the cab, he reminded her the fourth time to call him. As he watched the tail lights, he realized that he had sounded needy and was now embarrassed. Where was the bottle and his "I don't give a shit pill?" He knew how to make the depressing thoughts go away.

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Thursday, Craig worked from dawn until dark and settled into his junked recliner, convinced that again, somehow, he had screwed things up. He laughed at himself about three times that night as he got up to relieve himself and shined a flashlight at the standing sewer pipe in the roughed-out downstairs bathroom and hung his cock in the 4" ABS opening. Each time his thoughts were, "Old fellow, you won't be able to satisfy or fill this hole."

Friday afternoon, his cell phone did ring with a call from a number he did not know. He was ready to fend off another scam on refinancing or expiring car warranty when Ann's voice surprised him.

"Still sleeping in that piece of junk chair?"

"I proposed last night. Be careful, that's my fiancé you are talking about."

Her female laughter was so beautiful; his soul lifted up several notches. He just let his mind go and charged ahead, "How brave are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you brave enough to come over to my house at seven on Saturday night and let me cook dinner for you?"

She was quick and Craig loved it. "Why, is your cooking that bad?"

"Everything will taste really good. I'll have 911 on speed dial and a stomach pump handy."

"OK, seven it is. How do you want me to dress?"

He was quiet. Waiting. Still quiet. What did the silence mean? Then the light went on.

"I understand, stupid question. Tell me how to get there."

Three years as a specialty chef working for tuition and food while going to college didn't hurt. Forty more years of occasional practice helped too. However, Craig would have to wait for Ann to notice the table setting. The three-story Victorian on landscaped three acres that were entered through a security gate was not what she was expecting. Craig had built his house to please himself and his wife of thirty years. It was eight thousand square feet of near perfection, indoor/outdoor pool, professional kitchen and a lot more. The seven bathrooms, she could not get over.

"Let's have a glass of wine and some fruit and cheese in my office. You can see where I write and meet all my naked mermaids. Carol is staying with her sister tonight."

The space was completely masculine and a wonderful warm, sex filled playful room. The built-in bookcases were filled, the walls and ceiling were all wood and the furniture was red leather. There were many naked mermaids but there were also fetish pictures of chained women, contorted female faces in climax and playful, smiling women squirting into the air. Ann tried to stay cool and look like she had seen such pictures a million times, but she kept glancing about and staring at different pictures while they sipped wine and talked.

"Do my pictures offend you?"

"No, but many are of scenes I have never seen pictured."

"Do you have fantasies sometime that are of scenes you have never seen pictured?"

"Let me think about that. How about you? Do you have wild fantasies?"

"Sure."

"What is the wildest you can think of right now?"

"You are going to run away from me again if I start answering such questions."

"No, I won't run away."

"Often I read something that gets my mind going. None of my thoughts are super important to me but sometimes a fantasy lingers. I have never fisted a woman but the thought of a strong sheath contracting in climax around my wrist is very arousing."

Ann's breath rushed from her lungs and she could not inhale. She was at once frightened that this man wanted to shove his hand up her and turned on by the idea. Craig noticed and again sought to recover.

"That was a thought off the top of my head. Please do not be offended. I sometimes am not housebroken and answer too quickly and my thoughts are often too far-fetched for public consumption."

His answer did not help, so he led her to the dining table and a wonderful salad followed by a chicken breast in cream sauce over rice, julienned string beans, sweet buttered carrots and warm French bread. Craig kept the conversation between acceptable lines and they dined and enjoyed each other's voice and eyes for over an hour. Craig teased with the whipped cream on the desert but their conversation did not seem to be leading toward sex tonight.

"Ann, I hope you will come dine with me here again when it is light outside and you can see the grounds and the pool better."

"I would like that."

Later while Craig helped Ann with her coat, he spoke volumes to her in just a few short sentences. "Tonight, I had hoped to kiss you and touch you. Your body did not ask me to kiss it. To me you are my equal. What we do, we will both have to ask the other for. Thank you for dining with me. I have thoroughly enjoyed your company and having you at my home for the first time. Do you mind if I go to sleep dreaming about you?"

"What would you dream about me?"

"You might not think you do, but you know me well now. What do you think I would fantasize about?"

Ann paused, looked shy but risked an answer, "How I taste?"

"Yes, my lovely. You are exactly right."

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During lunch on Sunday, Craig's cell phone rang; it was Ann, "How come we woke up in separate places today?"

"Beautiful woman, I wish I had a good answer for you, because I wanted you last night more than I wanted anything in this world."

"Why are you working on Sunday?"

"To keep from thinking about your body."

"You could have taken me."

"You could have said, "I want to feel you inside me; please take me.""

Ann was at an impasse.

"Beautiful, the men you have known wanted to release into your body. I am older. I want to share release with your body. That is not a subtle difference. It is a massive difference. I do not want to cum in you. I want to watch your lovely face contort in pleasure, hear you cry my name and feel your womb suck the cum from my body into yours."

Ann felt a surge of heat go through her body and wetness between her legs. She was silent for long moments, breathing into the handset. Finally, she whispered, "Oh, Yes" and then was silent again.

"You know all about me now. I have told you how I feel about you, like to be with you and don't want to hurt you. If we go anywhere from here, we are going to have to be very open with each other and always talk about what we are feeling and what we want."

"When will you visit me at my apartment and let me cook for you?"

"I would like that. Anytime you give me a day's notice and tell me what I can bring."

"I work the breakfast and lunch shift on Tuesday and have Wednesday off. How about Tuesday evening?"

"Great, I'll bring the roofies, ropes, handcuffs and wine and see you about 6:30."

Ann laughed and they said their goodbyes. After she hung up, she wasn't entirely sure Craig was joking. Her body was still flushed and did not seem to mind the idea of being taken. She just smiled and decided to believe he was joking.