Nice Couples Do (8 page)

“It’d be okay, I guess. What would I do?” He didn’t have to be at work any day the following week and the extra money would be great.

“I know you work at the appliance store and you must be used to doing all that lifting. You would be a lot of help moving furniture and painting. I couldn’t pay you very much. Maybe twenty-five dollars for the three days.”

Phil thought about the car he could borrow and the girls he could entertain with the money. “Sure, Mrs. Johnstone, that’d be great.”

“It’s a deal then. We’ll start on Monday. But you have to start calling me Angie.”

“That’s great Mrs. Johnstone, I mean Angie.”

The weekend dragged. Phil already had asked a girl out for the following Saturday evening and he was counting on using some of the twenty-five dollars to buy her a burger after they made out in the car. Each day, Phil was sure that Angie would come to his apartment to tell him that she had changed her mind, that she couldn’t afford to employ him after all. But she didn’t.

First thing Monday morning, Phil dressed in an old pair of slacks and a slightly torn polo shirt. He knocked on Angie’s door.

“Come in, Phil. The door’s unlocked.”

The room was in total disarray. Most of the furniture had been pushed to the center of the room and Angie was crouched in the corner, struggling with a huge sofa.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, puffing. “Help me with this thing.”

Together, they wrestled the sofa toward the middle of the room. Then they covered everything with three huge canvas drop cloths.

Working in the hot apartment, Phil soon felt sweat droplets trickle down his chest and back.

“Phil,” Angie said, “you look as though you’re about to die from the heat. Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

“Are you sure it’d be okay?”

“Of course. We’re workers, not fashion plates. After all, look at me.”

Phil had been too busy to notice what Angie was wearing, but now he saw that she was dressed in a tight polo shirt and baggy, faded jeans, both covered with paint drips. As he looked at her, he realized that she had nothing on under her shirt. He couldn’t help but look at her large breasts, which swayed as she moved.

He didn’t notice that Angie was watching his eyes. She moved slightly, so that her breasts jiggled, and she saw the immediate reaction in the front of Phil’s tight slacks.

“Come on, Phil,” she said to break the silence, “you can certainly take your shirt off. A nice-looking man like you must like to show off his body to all the girls.”

Phil looked away from Angie’s body and said, “If you’re sure.” He reached for the back of the neck of his polo shirt and pulled it off over his head.

“You have a beautiful body, Phil. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

Phil was surprised at her reaction. No one had ever told him he had a nice-looking body.

Angie went into the kitchen and returned with a can of paint and two brushes.

“You can start on the walls and I’ll work on the window frames.” She snapped on a large radio and tuned it to a rock-music station. “I hope you like a little background noise. I hate the quiet myself.”

They painted in silence for the rest of the morning, with only the radio for company.

It was late morning and Phil had just finished the second wall when he sensed Angie behind him. She rubbed a section of his back with a wet cloth.

“You have paint all over your back,” she said. “I thought I would get you cleaned off for lunch. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

Phil closed his eyes as the cool cloth caressed his back and shoulders. “No,” he said lazily, “it feels just fine.”

“Okay,” Angie said as she backed away. “Wash up. Lunch is in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, Phil and Angie sat in the small kitchen. They chewed on ham sandwiches and washed them down with beer. Angie made small talk, mostly about the incredibly hot weather.

“I love it when it’s hot like this,” Angie said as she finished her sandwich. “It makes me feel so alive.”

“Yeah.” Phil swigged the last of his can of beer. “Me, too.” Sitting across from Angie, Phil was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off her large nipples, which showed clearly through her shirt. He ate without tasting and found it hard to concentrate on what Angie was saying.

Angie got up and cut a slice of freshly baked orange cake and set it in front of Phil. She took a bottle of cold milk from the icebox. “Beer is fine with sandwiches,” she said, “but with cake, the only thing is milk.” She took down a fresh glass and filled it. As she poured, she bent over so that Phil couldn’t help but get a good view of her breasts down the front of her shirt.

“Good cold milk is great with cake, I always say. Isn’t that right, Phil?”

“I g-g-guess so,” he stammered.

“Here,” Angie said as she walked around behind him, “let me show you what else a cold milk bottle is good for.”

With one quick motion, she pressed the chilled bottle against the middle of Phil’s overheated back.

His body stiffened and he jerked forward.

“Don’t move. Let me show you.” Sensuously, she slid the wet, cold bottle all over Phil’s back. “Doesn’t that feel wonderful?”

Phil let his head fall back. “It does feel nice,” he admitted.

Still standing behind him, Angie moved the bottle to his bare chest. As she pressed its icy surface against his ribs, she moved forward so his head was pushed against the valley between her breasts. “Now, doesn’t that feel good, too?”

Phil was speechless. He could feel Angie’s large breasts pressing against his ears. He felt her start to sway. Her flesh stroked the sides of his head as the cold bottle stroked his chest.

“Have you ever felt anything like this before?” she purred. “M-m-maybe we should g-g-get back to painting, Mrs. Johnstone.”

“It’s Angie. And we don’t have to paint just yet. Isn’t this more fun?” Her voice was soft and her words came out slowly.

Phil moved slightly as he tried to conceal the bulge in his pants. It was all he could do not to reach up and press Angie’s breasts more firmly against the sides of his head. He took a gulp of air and tried to clear his mind.

Slowly, the bottle began to slide down his belly toward the waistband of his slacks. Angie’s other hand began to slide down the wet trail.

Without moving from behind him, Angie put the bottle on the table, but she continued the sensual massage of his chest and belly. Slowly, her hand crept under the waistband of his jeans and touched the tip of his swollen penis through his white cotton underpants.

Phil was afraid to move. He was afraid that she would stop, but he was also afraid she would continue. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before and he wasn’t sure that he would know what to do if it went any further. He had fucked a few girls, but always in the dark and always after he had teased and begged. And the girls always made him feel as though they had done him a favor.

Angie reached down and took his hand. She guided him to a standing position and pulled him gently into her bedroom. For the rest of his life, Phil would always remember that room: heavy mahogany furniture covered with lace doilies; a mirrored tray on the bureau with bottles of perfume and hand lotion displayed on it; lace curtains that stirred in the slight noontime breeze.

The room smelled of Jergen’s lotion. Years later, he always got an erection when he smelled that particular almond aroma. Angie guided him until he stood next to the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, unbuckled Phil’s belt, and unzipped the fly of his jeans. Ever so slowly, she pulled his pants down, until he stood in his shorts.

“Such a beautiful body,” she whispered. She pressed the palm of her hand against the swelling that bulged beneath the front of his shorts. “And such a big boy, too.”

He said nothing as she pulled down his shorts. He kept thinking that he should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. He was just wildly excited, afraid that if she touched him, he would shoot all over the room.

“A guy like you needs a woman like me to teach him.”

“I’ve made it with girls before,” Phil protested. He was twenty and she mustn’t think he was a virgin.

“I know that,” Angie said, “but you’ve never made love to anyone like me, have you?”

He had no time to answer, for Angie took his huge cock in her mouth and started to suck on it. It was only moments until he climaxed deep in her throat. She swallowed hard and licked her lips.

Phil was upset by how quickly he had come, but Angie said, “It’s always so fast the first time I make love with someone new. Now, we have a little time.” She stood up and pushed Phil to a sitting position on the bed.

Angie unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. Then she pulled off her jeans and her underpants. “I like it when you look at me.” Her body was mature but still firm. She had large breasts and a waist that had thickened over the years. Her pubic patch was large and the hair spread over much of her lower stomach.

Sensuously, she ran her hands over her skin. “Would you like to touch me and learn about how to give a woman pleasure?” She looked at Phil’s penis, already erect again, and chuckled. “Of course you would.”

She lay on the bed on her side next to him and rested her cheek on her palm. She took his hand and pressed it against her erect nipples. “Feel how hard they get. That’s because I’m excited, anxious to feel your hard young cock inside of me.”

When he moved to straddle her, she pushed him back and chuckled. “Don’t rush so. Enjoy the whole experience first. Touch me all over. You want to, don’t you?”

This was so different from making out in the front seat of a car. He could take his time and touch and look all he wanted. Angie lay back. Phil ran his hands over her skin. She was moist with perspiration, so his fingers slipped and slid. She guided his fingers to the sensitive spots on her sides and her neck. Then ultimately, he touched her breasts and the insides of her thighs.

“Touch with the flats of your fingers, then with the tips. Make your touches both firm and whisper-soft like a feather. Use your fingernails to scratch lightly. Touching is a game of sensations, all kinds of sensations.”

She watched his eyes and his hands as they caressed and scratched and pinched every part of her body. Slowly, his fingers ventured into her black pubic hair. “Pull some of the curls, gently. It’s another sensation.”

He did and he felt her gasp with pleasure. More than anything, he wanted to touch between her legs. She hadn’t yet guided his hand there, but he took the initiative and slipped his hand through her hair to her hot, open flesh.

He explored every fold and smiled as she moaned. “You learn quickly,” Angie said.

Remembering what she had said about sensations, he squeezed her swollen, wet outer lips gently and watched her face. Her eyes were tightly shut and the tip of her tongue flicked over her lips.

“I want to learn everything,” he said hoarsely, unable to ignore the pressure building in his cock, “but I can’t wait.”

“It’s all right. It’s time for you to be inside of me now,” Angie said.

They were both covered with sweat as Angie spread her legs wide and Phil placed his knees between them. His erect cock slipped into her and it took only a few strokes for him to climax.

Because of Phil’s job and their frequent sexual interruptions, it took almost two weeks to finish the painting. Even when the job was completed, Phil returned to Mrs. Johnstone’s apartment whenever he could and they each taught and learned.

When the summer ended and Phil’s school resumed, they saw very little of each other, but when they passed on the stoop, they smiled.

Now, every summer, on the hottest day, Phil smiles and remembers.

5

EROTIC SURROUNDINGS

H
ave you ever thought about making love somewhere other than the bedroom? Maybe in the bathtub, or on the dining room table? One person I know always wanted to consummate a relationship in the backseat of a stretch limousine, and another, who worked with his sexual partner, always wanted to make love on the table in the conference room.

Whatever turns you on. Just be careful that you are not interrupted, although the danger of being discovered can add to the intrigue.

Barry and Anne had always wanted to make love someplace different, someplace where they could do anything and make lots of noise doing it. This proved difficult, however, because they lived in a small apartment in a large city and had a small child. But where there’s a will, there’s a way.

ANNE AND BARRY’S STORY

During the two years that Anne and Barry had lived together before their marriage, they had indulged in many nights of terrific sex. Then they married and soon after Anne became pregnant. Now Mike, the baby, was just over a year old and Anne and Barry’s sex life had grown stale and routine. They both knew that things should be better, but, with Barry’s job and the baby, they were caught in a rut.

Barry talked about the situation with his friend Jeff one evening. “It’s not that I don’t love Anne,” he said, “but we seem to be so tired that we fall asleep right after we put the baby down.”

“I know. Carrie and I have the same problem, I never imagined that I’d be too tired for sex.”

Over the next few weeks, Barry and Jeff evolved a simple plan. One Saturday, Barry and Anne kept Carrie and Jeff’s three-year-old overnight so that Jeff could take Carrie to a local motel for a night away—away from their son, away from their house, away from everything that reminded them of their everyday lives.

When the young couple picked their son up late Sunday afternoon, Jeff seemed more relaxed than Barry had seen him in months. This might be just the refresher that he and Anne needed so badly.

Barry did some planning for his night away with Anne. It was late one Saturday afternoon almost a month later when they dropped fourteen-month-old Mike off. So far, Barry hadn’t confided his plans to Anne, so she sat in the passenger seat of their old car, impatiently crossing and recrossing her legs.

“Come on, Barry, give,” she said finally. “Where are we going?”

“My boss and his wife are in Europe for two weeks and he’s invited us to use his cabin at Sparkle Lake. It’s almost a mile to the nearest neighbor. Think about it, solitude, privacy, and a swimming pool big enough to play water polo in.”