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Thank you all for the positive response Chapter 1 received. I did get one email that was critical of the story because the protagonist, David, had unprotected sex with Dahlia after she admitted that her husband had given her a STD several years ago. The anonymous critic was correct. In this age of HIV and treatment resistant STD’s this activity was extremely foolish and dangerous.

Let me assure you that this story is a fantasy. In the fantasy world I created, older, overweight men can attract beautiful women; and in this fantasy world, AIDS and STD’s do not exist. Nevertheless, wouldn’t it be great if someday, the fantasy could really become a reality.

I hope you enjoy this installment.


What a weekend it was! My head was still spinning over the events of the past 72 hours. Sitting on an airplane from Monterrey, Mexico to Houston to Milwaukee on Monday afternoon, I tried to make sense of what had happened and how I should deal with it.

Dahlia Rivera was the Mexican attorney for a project for which I was the project manager. In the six months since I started the project, we had become very good friends, but our relationship had been strained for a few of weeks after we engaged in a short but passionate kissing session after a party I threw for friends and coworkers. She abruptly left my apartment and was quite distant.

Then on Saturday, I called Dahlia and told her that I was leaving for the USA for a couple of weeks to tend to some company and personal business.

She seemed very upset that I was leaving and within a half an hour, she was at my door, and within 15 minutes after that, we were naked and I was eating her pussy and she was sucking my cock. She told me she could not have intercourse with me while she was still with her husband, but that did not prevent us from engaging in oral sex and the other things her husband would not do for her and what he would not let her do for him. It seemed to be a strange rationalization, but I was not going to try to figure it out. Then she promised that she would “give herself completely” to me after she left her husband.

Little did I know what leaving her husband meant and how soon it would happen. She came over on Monday morning as I was getting ready to leave for the airport and announced that she had left her husband, meaning she moved into the guest room. To me it was a matter of semantics, and another way to rationalize her behavior.

We spent the morning making love. When I left for the airport, she was lying on my bed, naked after our shower together. My last site of her was of her damp hair and shaved pussy lying spread eagle on my bed.

I got to Milwaukee a little after 8:00 PM and headed straight to my hotel. It had been less than ten hours since I had sex with Dahlia in the shower, but I was thirsting for her already. What had I gotten myself into?

I ordered room service and went straight to bed. Normally I would have called someone to come over, but not that night; I had a few things to work out in my head.

I woke up on Tuesday morning and went straight to the corporate office. I saw Susan at the front desk where she has been since I started with the company. She would have been my first call when I arrived in town and the “someone” I would have invited to my room. For the past six years, whenever I came to town, we would have dinner, go dancing and then head back to my hotel for desert.

Susan was a few years younger than I was. (It seems that everyone is younger than me, except for the people driving 30 miles per hour in the fast lane.) She was divorced with two kids: a boy and a girl. The boy was 25 and was recently married and worked as a news reporter at WGN in Chicago. Susan was a little upset when she realized that at any time, she was only nine months away from being a grandmother. The girl was 20 and enrolled at the University of Wisconsin studying actuarial science.

Susan was truly an empty nester but did not go out much to take advantage of that fact. We were very good friends, slept together whenever I came into town, and sex between us was great, but we decided years ago that a romantic relationship was not in the cards.

Soon after we started sleeping together, she suggested that I stay with her when I was in town and forgo a hotel. While it was tempting, and our arrangement was the worst kept secret in the company, we both decided that any sort of entanglement or expectation would not be conducive to the sort of “relationship” we had: so, I checked into a hotel during my visits to the home office, but spent most of my time with her.

When I arrived at the office, she rose and came around the desk to greet me. She knew that I was coming to town, so I knew that under the short, thin cotton summer dress, she had a freshly shaved pussy and was wearing no undergarments except for a bra, which she needed to keep her ample bosoms in place. Even with a plain support bra, her cleavage was unbelievably deep. More than once my cock was nestled in that great crevasse

The difference casino siteleri between Susan and Dahlia was striking. Aside from the 15-year difference in their ages, their physical appearance was also very different.

While Dahlia was a blue-eyed blond Mexicana of German heritage, Susan was a brown-eyed, olive skinned Italian. Where Dahlia used “Wonder Bra” technology to enhance her medium sized breasts, Susan had no need for such tricks. Dahlia dressed quite conservatively, and Susan liked to show off her body…short skirts and low necklines.

Their personalities were also very different. Dahlia was very conservative, and some would call Susan a floozy.

The one thing they had in common, however was that both were incredibly smart, and this intelligence contributed as much to their attractiveness as their physical characteristics.

I kissed her on lightly on the lips and noticed that her perfume was the same as Dahlia’s. She held my hand and brought it down to her crotch, where I could feel the cleft of her pussy through the material of her dress.

I felt a little quiver in my cock as it wanted to come out and play, but I had other things to do, so I broke the kiss and just asked quietly, “Dinner later?”

She agreed and added, “With desert.”

I went into the office that I generally us during my visits. Dennis Marley, the CEO, walked in before I even sat down.

Dennis quickly disposed of the pleasantries. “Hi. It’s good to see you again. What’s up with the project?”

“It’s good to see you, too. Don’t you ever read my progress reports?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t have time for that shit, and generally that is what field reports are: ass-covering shit. Just tell me what the fuck is going on down there.”

“Hey if you don’t like my style, I will start my retirement today and you can have the keys to the crappy field office you set up for me.” (As it turned out, those words were prophetic, but more on that later.)

Although it was all good natured, anyone new to the company, walking down the hall at that moment would have been shocked at the way we addressed each other. We worked together for eight years and had known each other for ten more, long enough that we both knew how to give the other a ration of shit while making newer employees cower in the corner.

I told him about the changes that we made and that I was confident the project would be completed well before the deadline. I also told him that our attorneys found several ways to get extensions, based on the client’s performance, but it should not be necessary.

“Well,” the Dennis remarked, “Based on the legal fees you have been racking up, I would hope you’re getting laid, too.”

I nearly spit my coffee with that remark. There is no way anyone could know about Dahlia and me, since the whole thing just happened in the past couple of days, but it was obvious to me that nothing could be kept secret, and even if you could, a good rumor was almost better than a secret. I knew I would have to be very careful.

We talked for another hour or so and made a schedule for my visit. On Thursday, we would fly to Washington DC to visit the government agency that was financing the project in Mexico. (For those of you interested in detail, the agency is called the Overseas Private Investment Corporation or OPIC for short). The next week, I would take vacation time and go to Minnesota to visit my sister and play the prodigal uncle for a few days.

After a working lunch, I met with the CFO to go over budgets and expenses and generally to allay his fears about the project. I got him to agree to streamline the payment process for our vendors and contractors and to give me a few more dollars in the petty cash fund, which we used for payoffs and the Friday Afternoon open bar that was becoming a hit with all the contractors. When we wrapped up our meeting, it was close to 5:00, and I could see that Susan was doing busy-work until I was finished.

After she gathered her stuff, we set off for the elevator and to a little bar that we both like. Typical of a Wisconsin bar, it had every beer you could possibly want, as long as it was brewed in Wisconsin. (The most exotic beer they served was Leinenkugel Red, so they kept things basic.)

We sat in a corner and ordered some snacks. Susan started the conversation:

“What happened to you last night, David? I was ready to fuck the bed post, but you didn’t call.”

“Well, I was really beat,” I lied. “I was just going to lie down for a minute and went to sleep.”

She seemed to accept my answer. “Okay, then you should be well rested and ready to take care of my needs tonight.” We clicked glasses. “It’s good to have you back”, she toasted. “It’s good to be back,” I replied.

After a couple of beers and some “pigs in a blanket” (mini-wieners wrapped in pastry, a staple for a Wisconsin Happy Hour), we headed out to dinner. Milwaukee was originally settled by Germans, so there are dozens of great German restaurants in the city. We picked one near the lake, not too far from my slot oyna hotel and enjoyed an excellent dinner.

We talked about what had been happening since the last time we were together when I came into town to announce my retirement more than six months ago. She told me that she had met a guy and had been dating, but that it was nothing serious; he was younger than she was and that bothered her. When I called her a cougar, she laughed and said that I could call her any type of pussycat I wanted, as long as I took care of the pussy part.

She brought me up to date on her kids. Her son received a promotion and was a weekend news anchor in Chicago. “Its funny”, she said, “the only time I see him is on the 10:00 news.” His schedule meant that the rare weekend trips he and his wife made from Chicago to Milwaukee were even rarer because of his work schedule.

Her daughter still showed up on holidays, but her chosen field was so competitive that only the top 10% was hired, and even fewer ended up making decent money, so she dedicated everything to studying. I had to give the kid credit. When I first met her, she was a spoiled 13-year-old brat who thought it a personal insult to have to work for anything. She really did some growing up if she was that dedicated to her career.

We left the restaurant and decided to walk off the heavy German food. We were only about a block from Lake Michigan, so we took a stroll along the lakeshore. We held hands like an old married couple, which is sort of what we were: content with our lives: comfortable but not excited.

“How about you?” she asked. “How do you like working in Mexico?”

“It’s not bad, once I got our shit together. The last project manager let so much go to hell. There were so many problems that could have easily been resolved if they would have been handled in the beginning, instead of waiting ’til they festered. And the contract was a fucked up mess.”

“Well thank goodness you have a good lawyer…So are you sleeping with her?”

I stopped and turned to her. “Christ, what is it with you people? Dennis implied the same thing today. What on earth gives you the idea that I am sleeping with her or anyone else?”

“David, give me credit for having some brains. I have known you for eight years, and I keep the books. I know when your expense reports are real and when they are inflated. I know how you spend money, so it is easy to see when your spending habits change. I also know that you usually do not go out to dinner to entertain as often as you have in the past few months.”

I replied lamely, “I wouldn’t say inflated. It is just that dinner meetings are important in Mexico, and with all the legal issues it was necessary.”

She was just getting started. “You can sell that crap to someone who’s buying. I know that you hate lawyers. You always told me that they just get in the way, but I have never seen as many billable hours for legal services as you are racking up, and the lawyer happens to be female. So, come on, Pal, time to come clean to Susan.”

We walked for a few seconds while I contemplated what to say next.

“Well”, she said impatiently.

I knew that I had no choice but to be honest. Susan was right: my habits had changed and she noticed. I knew that she would not tell anyone, and even if she did tell, all the expenses were documented and were legitimate. Anything else I did was no ones’ business. However, I knew her too long enough to know that I could not to lie to her. She would be able to tell in a minute.

“And all this time I thought I was being clever. If you would have asked me about this a week ago, I could have looked you straight in the eye and said honestly, ‘no, I am not sleeping with her.’ But today I have quite a different answer.”

“No shit? When did this all happen?”

“Actually, it happened yesterday morning.”

“Holy Shit! You flew in yesterday. What did you do, nail her on the way to the airport?”

“Well, you might say that.” With that, I told her everything, starting with my attraction to her the first time we met, the dinners, the make out session a few weeks ago and the oral sex we had on Saturday. Then I told her everything about Dahlia’s visit on Monday morning before I left for the airport. It felt very good to talk about it, even though it was with a woman whose bed I would share in a couple of hours.

We came to a park bench and sat for a while. I never truly appreciated Susan until just this evening. She allowed me to talk through my situation without a hint of jealousy or judgment.

“So,” she asked, “Are you in love with her?”

I really don’t know…well no, not in love. She is more of a friend like you. Physically, the two of you are very different, but you are both extremely smart and extremely beautiful. And, since I am an aging bachelor, I figure I should take advantage of every opportunity to sleep with a beautiful woman.”

“Good answer. Another friend with benefits,” she replied. “Well, the friend you are with right now has been looking forward to a good reaming for several canlı casino siteleri days. Think you can handle it, or did your new friend in Mexico sap all your strength?”

“Gee, I don’t know, but I would like to give it a go.”

She took my hand and placed it on her thigh. She guided it up her leg to her shaved and very naked pussy. “I am horny as hell,” she said. “Do you want to eat this here, or do you want it to go?”

I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. As our tongues met, and as I gentle massaged her pussy in a way that she liked, I realized that I had very strong feelings for Susan that went beyond “friends with benefits”. She was the only person, including Dahlia, with whom I could talk openly about things like this. I thought about how we came to be so close.

I first met Susan more than eight years ago when I came to work for Dennis. She was still married, but she was going through a very rough time with her husband.

I took her out to lunch one day soon after I started. Dennis was the boss, but in reality, I knew that Susan ran the company. Since I did not want to piss her off, I tried to find out how she wanted things done, and to let her know what I needed in the field and find out how the company could provide it. Just like with Dahlia eight years later, we hit it off right away and spent as much time discussing our personal lives as we did discussing business.

I only got back to Milwaukee a few times during the next couple of years, but each time we went out to dinner and shared secrets. When I was in the field, we communicated by email, and she kept me filled in on the progress of her separation from her husband. The next time I came into town and we got together for dinner she told me that she was finally divorced.

We did not sleep together that night, although I think we both wanted to. The time was not right. She was still emotionally vulnerable. Even though her marriage had effectively ended months before, she had to come to terms with the finality of it all.

I left to go back to a job in Kenya and offered what emotional support I could by email. Over next weeks, our messages got more and more personal and finally, sexually explicit.

A couple months later, I came back into town and, as we walked to dinner, I kissed her for the first time. (By kiss, I mean the deep, passionate kiss that clears the head of doubt and misgiving and sets the participants on the path that can seldom be reversed.)

We never got to dinner that night. We went straight to my hotel and within a couple of minutes, we were in my room, pealing off our clothes.

That night we did not make love, we had sex. It was wild, crazy, and passionate, but at the end of the evening when she got dressed to go home, I realized I still did not know what she liked or disliked. Our sexual activity was very selfish and self-centered (for both of us).

The next day in the office things were a little strained. We were both uncomfortable as we tried to figure out where things went from there. Finally, I asked her out to dinner again, saying that I still owed it to her.

Over dinner, we cleared the air about what we wanted out of life. She told me that she was enjoying her freedom and did not want to be tied down, at least not yet. I told her that because of what I do, I couldn’t contribute to a relationship all that is required and cannot expect her to put her life on hold while I work in some jungle somewhere. We concluded that being lovers did not mean being committed: one thing was not mutually INCLUSIVE of the other. We decided we could be lovers without being exclusively committed to one another. I encouraged her to seek out someone that could give her all the things she wanted out of life; the things her husband would not give.

That night, when I took Susan home, she invited me in for a drink. This time we made love. We explored each other’s bodies and took the time to feel what the other needed and wanted. It was a much different and a much more satisfying experience.

So began a six-year odyssey of discovery. At 48 years old, I was learning the lessons of what women liked. At first I was a little embarrassed that I did not already know how to give pleasure to a woman, but soon I discovered that learning to focus on what your partner likes makes things a lot better, and a lot more fun for her and for me…a real win-win situation. If I knew this, years ago, maybe I would not be a life-long bachelor.

So, six years later we sat on the park bench with my hand on her naked pussy, I knew how use my thumb to gently caress the top of her slit and her clitoral hood and how to move my forefinger down until I put gentle upward pressure on her asshole. (I knew this because she told me.) After a few moments, we stood and walked arm and arm to her car and drove to her house.

When we arrived, I poured two snifters of brandy, put on a Chris Botti CD and we sat on her couch to continue our conversation. We did not talk about Dahlia or work. We just made small talk, but small talk was the greatest aphrodisiac to Susan. I listened to her voice and looked into her eyes. I occasionally reached out and moved a stray brunet hair from her face. I caressed her cheek with the backs of my fingers. I ran my fingers through her silky smooth hair.

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