The Big Bang! Theory - A fourth--and final--short, erotic encounter of the Judy Banger kind (7 page)

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Authors: Debra Salonen

Tags: #romance, #comedy, #sexy, #black humor, #aging and sex

BOOK: The Big Bang! Theory - A fourth--and final--short, erotic encounter of the Judy Banger kind
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Although, to her surprise,
he didn't seem in a hurry to leave.

"We should go,
huh?"

He looked around. "I don't
see anyone waiting for our table. I'll leave a healthy tip to make
up for the extra coffee. Would you like anything else?"

"A box for my
leftovers?"

He motioned for their
waiter. "We'll take this with us, and bring the check,
please."

To Judy, he said, "I'm
going to suggest something spontaneous and, as Fletcher would say,
not my usual modus operandi. How 'bout we swing by your house to
pick up a swimsuit then we go to my place and hop in the
pool?"

He made the idea sound
casual and lighthearted. A lark. Two kids jumping in the cement
pond together. "Do we need suits?" she asked before her good sense
could put the kibosh on the idea.

She pretended to hold up an
imaginary piece of paper and scan it. "Yep. There it is on my
Bucket List. Number thirty-seven. Go skinny dipping with a
judge."

Wiley let out a loud hoot
that turned a few heads.

Judy blushed. Her heart
thumped wildly at the naughtiness of her suggestion. Pru would be
shocked. Mom horrified. Nancy, to Judy's profound surprise, would
probably cheer.

But she made a crisp check
mark in the air, just for the heck of it. Did she care what anyone
else thought when the twinkle in Wiley's eye said, quite clearly,
"Hell, yes. Let's do this?"

Hell, no.

 

Chapter Five

 

Brazen. That's me, Judy
thought half an hour later as she marched stark-ass naked down the
steps of the Sunset Magazine-perfect pool. Mature trees encircled
the lush landscaping of the oversize lot providing a sense of
privacy that may or may not have been valid. But the neighborhood
was as quiet as they come in a town this size, and since she was
the one to suggest this idiocy, she could hardly back down
now.

The chlorine-scented water
sent chills up her back. Her nipples puckered and she sucked in her
gut when the water topped her thighs. She sank chin-deep and
started a slow crawl to get used to the temperature.

"How's the temp?" Wiley
asked, tossing a couple of towels on a nearby chaise
lounge.

"A jolt at first, but quite
lovely actually."

He'd changed in the house,
while she'd used the cabana adjacent to the pool. A large
dark-colored towel--purple? Navy? She couldn't tell in the low
lighting--hung on his hips, exposing his upper body to her view.
And what a view it was! The mat of chest hair--a salt and pepper
mix--encircled both nipples and narrowed to a V at his trim
waist.

"Good lord. I know you said
you run, but how far? Ten? Twenty miles a day?"

He strolled to the deep
end--the shadowy part. "Not anymore. Running became a compulsion
after Fletcher's mother died, but Julie made me tone down my habit.
I still do the occasional 10K, but my morning routine is only a few
miles. I have to remind myself I'm fifty-five, not
twenty-five."

The towel dropped and the
body launched in a smooth arc, leaving a small entry-point
splash.
He might not use the pool much,
but he's no slouch in the water
, Judy
thought.
I bet he's good at everything he
does.

The thought made her lady
parts tingle. And the sensual feeling of the water against bare
skin added to her heightened awareness. She dipped under the water
and swam to the far end of the pool. Two could hide in the
shadows.

When she surfaced, she blew
out the breath she'd been holding and blinked away the chlorinated
water. "This feels great, but it just hit me--aren't we supposed to
wait an hour after eating before going in the water?"

Wiley moved to within an
arm's length. "Good question. Could be a generational thing. I
remember my mother enforcing that rule, but I don't think Julie
ever told Fletcher and his friends they couldn't swim after
eating." He chuckled. "And believe me, young boys are always
eating."

"I'll take your word on
that. I only have nieces." As usual, she felt a swift syringe of
regret release in her chest. She'd moved past the point of
polishing off a pint of Ben and Jerry's whenever the subject of
children came up, but a part of her would forever kick herself for
missing out on something so human, so normal.

As if cued from a prompter,
Wiley said, "Do you mind me asking? How come you didn't have
kids?"

The question always came
up. A few times, she'd replied, snottily, "Do you mind me asking
how come you did?"

For Wiley, she used her
standard, if flippant, one-liner. "Having a child is a bad idea
when you're married to one."

He paddled closer, never
breaking eye contact. A lawyer trick, she bet. Without intending
to, she also blurted out, "I had an abortion ten days before our
first anniversary. I was happy, but my husband was completely and
utterly freaked out by the idea of becoming a father. He begged,
hounded and badgered me to get rid of it. He said we had the rest
of our lives to start a family, gave me a million reasons why then
was not the right time. He wore me down and I gave in," she
admitted, the pain and regret still blazingly alive and fresh even
decades later.

"Unfortunately, I developed
an infection and wound up in the hospital on IV antibiotics.
Somehow this sort of cauterized my fallopian tubes. I planned to go
in and have them opened up, but we never had the money. You know
how it is."

Or did he? Probably not. He
lived in a virtual palace compared to any place she'd ever called
home.

She pushed off and swam as
hard and fast as she could for the shallow end. Her lungs burned
from the effort when she stopped, turned and hooked her elbows on
the rounded lip of the pool.
What am I
doing here,
her mind cried?
I don't belong in a place like this.

She pulled her feet under
her and stood. "I should probably be going."

She marched up the steps
with a much heavier heart than she'd had going in.

"Judy, wait. You can't
leave just because things get heavy. Story of my life. I wasn't
judging you for not having children. I'd never criticize a woman
for making the most gut-wrenching decision of her life. Julie had
an abortion in high school. She didn't tell me about it until a
year or so before she died. She wrote a poem about how
heartbreaking the choice was for her and how much she'd hated her
parents and her sister for twisting her arm. As her pain got worse,
depression took over and I honestly believe that regret contributed
to her decision to end her life."

She paused. Not because he
had an abortion story of his own, but because of the "story of my
life" comment. In Wiley's world, people he loved left--two wives,
his son. You didn't have to be a loser to know loss.

She did an about face and
belly-flopped into the water. "Okay. I'll stay. But only because my
leftovers are in your fridge and I don't want to paw around trying
to find them."

She rolled to her back and
floated, her extra weight adding buoyancy. The stars sparkled with
a great deal more wattage than they did in her streetlight-dense
part of town. She lifted her arm to point out a satellite arcing
silently across the night sky but a whoosh of water startled
her.
Jaws making a tentative pass? No,
silly. Something far more dangerous.

Wiley broke the surface a
few inches from her prone, naked body. He stood in the chest deep
water, rivulets streaming from his shoulders, his wet hair slicked
back. The look of desire in his eyes flashed as clear as a neon
sign: I want sex with you now.

Judy's heart stopped
beating for a full second. Maybe two.

Then her butt sank, her
boobs floated and she floundered like a wet cat.

He caught her arm and
pulled her to him. Her toes didn't quite touch the bottom, but that
didn't matter because every other body part lined up nicely,
including his erect penis that just happened to fit between her
legs.

"Do you mind if I kiss
you?"

Good grief. Was he the most
polite horny man she'd ever met? "Yes. I mean, no. I mean, just
kiss me, dammit."

And damned if he didn't
taste like the Greek god Poseidon.

Wiley plundered her mouth
greedily. What was it about this woman that made him as eager as a
teenager getting laid for the first time? Yes, it had been eight
months since his last sexual encounter. But, he was old.
Self-control was his middle name. Ask anybody. Anyone but Judy
Banger. With her, he was one jerk on his wank stick away from
shooting his wad.

"I didn't plan for this,"
he admitted, breathless and a little flummoxed after ending what
felt like the most sensual, honest,
haven't-I-been-kissing-you-all-my-life kiss he'd ever experienced.
Were they really going to do this? Did he even own a box of
prophylactics? He didn't think so, unless Fletcher left some
behind.

She rested her forearms on
his shoulders and bobbed lightly, her buoyancy enhanced by her
breasts, which sparkled like white lily pads in the sketchy light.
Her turgid nipples brushed against his chest on each upward bounce,
making his jaws clench from the effort it took not to fondle and
suckle the breasts he'd been dreaming about for weeks.

"Believe it or not, neither
did I," she said, glancing at him with a shy smile. "Dumb, huh?
Since when did 'let's go skinny-dipping' end with a handshake and
peck on the cheek? Mom always said my impulses were going to get me
in trouble."

Her tone sounded sad and
embarrassed when she mentioned her mother. He pulled her closer in
a hug. Her breasts squashed between them, pillows of fleshy
softness. "We don't have to take this to the next level, Judy.
We're adults. We possess will-power and self-control."

Her right hand dropped and
her hips shifted to give access. When her fingers closed around his
penis, Wiley sucked in a gasp that included a few drops of pool
water. He coughed and choked, but she didn't let go. Instead, her
other hand fondled his balls.

Focus.
Her fingers fit him perfectly. The water added unexpected
friction
and
lubrication.
Pull. Release.
Pull.
Somehow they'd managed to back up to
the wall. He grabbed the sides of the pool to assist his legs,
which trembled uselessly. He watched her watching him respond, the
light and water lending a magnifying affect. She licked her lips.
When he copied the motion with his thumb, she sucked it in,
rhythmically matching the manipulation of his cock.

"Ah, god," he cried, as the
pressure built to explosion point. His breath caught in his chest,
the blood left his brain and shot to the central core of his being.
His head fell back as he gave into the sensation. Moments,
later--embarrassingly fast if he stopped to think about it--the
runaway freight train of cum plowed through the brick wall of
propriety. He roared the instant his completion erupted. She
dropped her head to his chest like a long-distance runner crossing
the finish line, her arm reflexively working the last bit of semen
out with every residual thrust of his hips.

"Holy shit," he murmured.
"How the hell did that happen? I'm so sorry."

Her head popped up. "You
are?" She pushed back, treading water. "Why? You didn't like
it?"

He grabbed her upper arms
with both hands and crushed her to him. "Like it? Fuck," he
shouted. "I loved it. That's not the point. You're my guest, my
date. I didn't bring you here to satisfy some latent male fantasy.
I took advantage...gracelessly...in under five minutes, for god's
sake. I apologize."

She cocked her head and
stared at him several seconds before bursting into laughter.
"You're serious. You think you've broken some kind of male Martha
Stewart code. Like...always let your guests cum--the c.u.m.
kind--first." She patted his cheek as if he were a child who
spilled red wine on a white tablecloth. "Wiley, it's okay to shoot
your wad when a girl's yanking your dick. It's not okay to do it
yourself in front of girls while wearing a trench coat, but in the
privacy of your own pool with an overly friendly date, then
anything goes."

He blinked, shook his head
and laughed. And it felt good. He felt good--more alive than he had
in years.

"You might want your pool
guy to up the chlorine, though," she added with a mischievous
wink.

He kissed her hard and
fast. "I get it, now."

She cocked her head,
questioning.

"I get why my son adores
you. I get why men are willing to risk death to be with you.
I...get...you, Judy Banger."
Did I almost
say love?
Good lord, I think I did. Where
did that come from?
The question bore
careful deliberation.

Her expression turned from
shocked to skeptical. "Well...that's nice. But it could be the
testosterone talking." She wiggled free of his hold and kicked off,
shooting with surprising speed and agility for the steps. She rose
out of the water gracefully, her lush body shedding water like an
old world statue in the rain. "I should probably be going, Wiley. I
have to teach my class in the morning."

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