

                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 6th Adventure>>>>>

         Larry  found out about Norman.  Well, yes, I told  him,  but  only
    after  he really got insistent about why I didn't answer  my phone  all 
    that  weekend  (come to think of it, Norman had  unplugged  his  phone,
    too...).   He was real upset, not that I'd promised him  fidelity   but 
    certainly   I   could  understand  where  his   hurt  expectations  had
    come from.  So I invited him over for dinner and a talk, and perhaps  a
    pityfuck. I  selected  a  satin slipdress--you  know,  tailored,
    spaghetti straps,  trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too
    far into  the cleavage.  I picked up some fresh fish and vegies and put
    on a  really nice table and candlelight, but he  wasn't  interested.  Poor
    guy  was really  hurting,  I  could  see it in his  face.    After  all
    we  had together,  etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell he  just
    never believed  that  the  whole situation was merely  a  day-to-day
    thing. Funny how guys never complain about  who  you've seen before, but  
    they really  get hurt when you see someone later!  When I explained  that
    I hadn't really given him up, just  allowed someone  else  in, he  seemed
    to brighten a bit and  his  appetite began to come back. So  I  poured us
    a little more wine and let him  talk.   His  work had been going
    better, and he'd wanted to share it with  me, and   here I'd   gone  off
    for a weekend with  a  year-old   reject.   Again,   I patiently
    explained how there'd  been  no  long  term promises,   just mutual  
    enjoyment.  We finished desert,  I  poured some brandy, and  we retired
    to  the  living room sofa.  He was much  more   relaxed,   and actually
    began to ask after  me  (other  than regarding   Norman,    of course).
    I   sketched   out   current projects...nothing  he  didn't already  know 
    about, but they  seemed to amuse him.   But  conversation about him was
    really short:   How was work?  Ok.  What about his  spare time?   Nothing
    special.  Was he  going out with anyone else?   No,  of course  not.   Did
    he   have any  trips  planned?    No,  now  that  I wouldn't  go  along,  
    he'd stopped  fantasying about them.  Well, where had  he  wanted us  to 
    go?   Now  he brightened and began to  recite  a series   of  rather
    detailed  itineraries he'd thought through.  A  bit TOO   detailed, in  
    that  EVERYthing was planned, but surely they  were all   very romantic
    ideas for weekends or longer.  When I said  I'd  go along as things 
    permitted he began to get excited again. He brought out some pictures he'd 
    clipped, and I moved  over  next to  him  to  see  them.  He did have
    a  great   imagination,   and  his enthusiasm was now really showing.
    When I reached  over  to point  out something in his books, I didn't mind 
    at all letting my hand  linger in his lap.  He didn't grab for me right  
    away,  but did shift over to  be right next to me. I  poured a little more
    brandy and the evening drew on.   We began to   plan  a  trip,
    selecting  a  long  weekend  and  picking    daily destinations.
    Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put  his arm   around  me.
    I could feel him checking  for  the   (non-existent) bra  strap and panty
    line.  Just as we finished I got up to  get   more brandy,  and  when I
    came back I sat  with  my  back against   the  far armrest  of  the couch
    and beckoned to Larry.   He scooted   over   and put  his arm across my
    waist.   I  sipped  my brandy,  gave  him  his, and asked him if he wanted
    to  stay  the night.   I  swear  he  almost dropped his  snifter,  and
    then  he smiled; he leaned over and  kissed me, and I put an arm around
    his shoulders. When  he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his,
    holding  one hand  in  his lap while I reached over to  put  his
    snifter aside.   I had  to really stretch my arm and chest to  reach,  and
    I'm   sure   he stared  closely  at the swelling beneath  the  slip's
    bodice.   When  I turned back I reached up to pull him down and  he
    pivoted his legs onto the sofa as he lounged beside me. He  still  seemed
    so unsure, though.  I stroked  his  head,   and kissed  his lips, but
    he was hesitant.  I took his hand  from  my waist and  moved  it  up to my
    breast, where I held  it  tight.    His  hand, massive as always, was as
    warm and gentle as before.  As he kissed   my neck I pulled my head back
    and just enjoyed  all  the sensations.    He soon  had his hand inside the
    dress and  then  he slipped   the  straps off  my shoulders.  He was
    getting  the  idea!  Time to find  a  little bare skin on this guy, too! I
    rolled  sideways, so he could get onto the  sofa  better,  then began
    working on his buttons, literal and  figurative.   I would  undo a few
    then reach down between his legs for a good grab as  I kissed him deeply.
    Soon, his shirt was off and  his  pants were open.  It  wasn't long  
    before  his hand was off my breast  and was  sliding  up  my  leg under
    the dress.  I lifted my hips and  he just  pulled  it off over my head  as
    I sat up.  We then  went  to work on the rest of  his  clothes and when
    they were off I took him to the bedroom. The   sheets   were   cold but we
    had them   warm   soon   enough. There   was  a  lot of exploring we
    did, sliding our  legs  over   each other, tongues in ears, nibbles on
    necks, fingers on genitals.  I  took him  on  my side, and I could see him
    sigh as he slid into  me.   Right away there wasn't the usual vigorous 
    pumping, just sort  of a slow  and gentle  massage  of  all my innards.  I
    ran my hands  over  his  chest, behind  me  to grab his balls, back up
    through his hair, and   all  the time  there  was  this  gentle warmth
    suffusing   through  me.   I  was tightening down but not yet near
    explosion. Then   he  rolled  me over onto my back and began  to  pump
    more quickly.   He  put  his legs outside mine and  the  pressures
    changed. Next,  he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I
    began  to really  pump  back.   When  he came it wasn't  for  long  but  
    it   was powerful,   almost  like  a firehose deep inside.   I  shivered,
    then shuddered, and then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming  orgasm
    that left me breathless. With  the  exhaustion that brought, and the
    brandy,  I  soon  fell asleep.  Larry was there, gently again in the
    morning,  and we repeated the  performance  until the sun was at zenith.
    He left a  little  more confident  of himself and I lingered in bed,
    assured the attentions  of two wonderful men.  Can life be sweeter?


                    ******************************************
                    From the collection of -=*<Rough Rider>*=-
                    ******************************************

