I turned into the drive, pulled way up to the house, and killed the engine. I hopped straight out because if I didn't get to stretch my legs within thirty seconds, I was just going to die. Consequently I was the first there to hug my mother-in-law when she came out the door and down the steps from the porch.

"Hey Maud, great to see you, glad we're here."

"So good you could come, Robert."

We live the next city over from Sue's mom. It's an easy enough hour or so drive. But I usually don't come along but every second or third visit. Maud and I get along great and I always have a fun time when I do go, but Sue wants to make the trip nearly once a month. I enjoy having the odd weekend alone. Sue jokes about how I call in the dancing girls while she's gone. "Just so I don't have to hear about it and you don't bring anything home to me," she's remarked on quite a few occasions. Which sounds as if she's giving me carte blanche, which makes it sound as if I'm the kind of husband I'm not. The truth is I haven't so much as kissed another woman since the day we met fifteen years ago. It's not that I haven't seen lots that I've liked, that I haven't been tempted, that there haven't been opportunities that I might have played to fruition. What I like to say is that I don't think it's worth it. That I don't want to complicate that part of my life. Which is an honest enough assessment, though to complete the whole truth there is the simple matter that by nature I'm rather shy, and the fact that when I was younger I did fall hard in love several times and wound up getting badly burned. Girl-shy shy boys don't wind up with wildly exotic sex lives. So I content myself with what I do have. And I happen to be Sue's husband only because on that fateful day years back she did literally reach out and grab me. And I replied, hey, great! A lovely lady who just happens to want to ball my brains out. That's good enough for me.

By then my wife and our little boy had extricated themselves from all the safety straps in the car. The big rounds of hugs followed. I retreated to the car to fetch a few things and lock up while they ambled on up to the house. I heard another voice, turned a quick glance back, and saw Tracy step out onto the porch. I hadn't been sure if Sue's sister would be over or not. She of course had her own apartment, and I'd figured we'd see her sometime over the course of the weekend. I give a wave I'm not sure she sees, then go on about my business, my heart beating just a little bit faster. We'd been getting to see much more of Tracy in the past half year since she left the coast to return to her old hometown. Before that, between her moves and our moves, we'd generally lived many hundred or several thousand miles apart, meeting up for a day or two every three or four years. Like sister like sister, they're both extremely easy on the eye, though from different angles. Tracy's a little shorter, with lighter hair, maybe a bit more chest, and a luscious smile. Her eyes, when they sparkle, are nearly bewitching. Aside from an ever ongoing, if often long-distance, historic threesome with a married couple she's known since college, she hasn't had any real steady partner in many years. She's far too independent for that. Though no doubt she gets by just fine. You'd have to be a guy who strictly likes guys not to want more than a second look at Tracy. That or be totally into walking advertisements for the silicon industry. Sue's told me several times that Tracy's been "cock crazy" ever since she found out what they were. Perhaps she's been a little alone since moving back, but obviously nowhere in the world is there a shortage of cocks ready to go crazy over the likes of her. I'll easily admit I've had my fun thinking about her now and then, not that I've ever thought of seeking any fun further than that. Still I was looking forward to the afternoon and evening having that added little zip to the air.

I gathered up most of the trip trash from the car and carried it a few feet further down the drive to the garbage cans. Actually, there wasn't really anything in the car to cart in. My coat, it'd gotten too warm not to leave on the seat. Sue had gotten her small bag, the kid's essentials. I locked up. I swept around back and actually had the key in the lock when I decided, oh fuck all the junk in the trunk, get it after I've gotten a cup of coffee.

"Hi," I heard. I whipped around to see Tracy standing on the cobbled pathway from the porch to the drive. She was smiling, and gave me a crimped little wave.

"Hey Tracy! So wonderful to see you." I started taking a few ambling steps her way.

"Gee, don't I get a hug too?" By then I was there, and my arms flew open to follow hers. For one brief moment we were like birds, flapping our wings while standing on the ground, doing some weird mating dance. Then we were clasping each other lightly around the shoulders. I was rabidly thinking about the last time we'd hugged, the last time I'd come over, when we were leaving. My right hand had surprised me and slid down from the customary position between her shoulder blades to just above the small of her back, stopping there for a couple quick pats. When we'd stepped apart, Tracy had continued staring at me, her head at a tilt and her eyes quite sparkling. This time her hand was fast all the way to the small of my back, where it lingered, rubbing in small circles, while the front of her torso closed the usual little gap, pressing up against mine. My god! I could feel her breasts against my chest! I dipped my hand in imitation of hers, and she exhaled a slight but distinct, "Mmmm."

All the windows were upon us, and we broke apart after not much longer than usual.

"So," she spoke, "would you like some help carrying things in?"

"Well, if you want."

Her eyes grew wide. "I want!"

We continued down the path to the drive and her hand slunk down and latched onto mine. She pulled us to a halt at the corner of the porch, where a stand of forsythia grew wide and tall and wild. The big burst of yellow flowering was unfortunately on the wane, but in the wake the leaves were out thick and dense. In the shadow of it we were invisible from the house. "That was such a nice hug," she whispered, "can I please have another?" Immediately, and longly, Tracy swept me into that position. She still led, but I followed much more quickly. Our hands were roving all over our backs, dropping way down to grip and cup and kneed each other's ass. Her breath was fresh and warm in my ear, a soft wetness reaching out to tickle the lobe. I pulled my head back to say something though I had no idea what I wanted to say. It didn't matter because her hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled my lips to hers, and then our tongues were twining, speaking a different language entirely. Through our shirts I could feel her nipples pressing against my flesh, and then her hips were rotating against mine, grinding her pubic bone against my groin, which was rising up like a big hard bone itself. She was making sounds in her throat like a cat purring. My muted response was that of a lion roaring. Finally, somehow, we managed to step apart. With eyes like stars, Tracy was nearly breathless when she spoke. "Robert, I have been thinking about you for a long long long time."

"Exactly," I managed.

We made it to the back of the car and I opened the trunk. Tracy bent over and reached in to get some bags, and my hand was immediately on her ass, caressing the fine curves and then dipping down between her legs to gently rub that sweet juncture. She just stopped at what she was doing and paused in that position. At that angle, the forsythia was of little use in shielding us from the view from the porch, but otherwise the house itself was still blind. I couldn't help myself. I moved behind Tracy and pressed up against her. Through the layers of cloth, my stiff cock nestled between the cleft of her ass. I reached around her, each hand coming to cradle a breast. Squeezing gently but insistently, I felt her nipples harden to cherry pits against my palms. I nuzzled down and started nipping her at the nape of her neck.

"My god," she groaned, "I don't know what we're going to do about this, but you better believe I'm thinking real fast."

- - -

Tracy and I gathered a real hero's welcome when we staggered into the house bearing the entire contents of the trunk. She had the bag of immediate toys, Sue's camera bag, and a grocery sack with some food items. I was stumbling under the load of all the rest, five or six bags of it.

"Would you like me to make some coffee?" Sue chirped.

"Perfect," I groaned as I staggered past the livingroom down the hall to the guestroom. I could have done the load in two or three trips, and normally I would have. But this time I needed all the luggage I could carry and swing before me to disguise the fact that the front of my pants was bulging with an erection worthy of King Kong. I was in our bedroom forever, sort of scooting things around, waiting for the worst of it to subside.

I'd barely had my first cup of coffee, looking at the dregs and thinking with longing about the next, when Tracy piped up about how she was all out of cat food. Sue and Maud and the kid were by then well immersed in some sort of board game. The thing about Tracy is that she doesn't own a car and indeed has never held a license. Thus her remark could be seen as cute and cloying and self-serving. It was still all that, though this time it was an obvious signal. She buys that good stuff that you can only get at the vets or specialty pet shops. The only one of the latter was located over on the strip a few blocks away, well beyond the reach of her feet from her apartment. I slowly volunteered, rolling my eyes at Sue and Maud to let them know I was just being a good guy.

The drive over it was just like that, as though the interior of the car was sacrosanct. I didn't speak a word, and the dozen or so Tracy did were purely directional. But once we were in the pet superstore, we were like fresh lovers gone shopping for the first time. The only lingering question seemed to be in which aisle we'd stop and just pull down our pants. Which stand of cans would be cover enough for us to fuck each other brainless.

But instead we made it through the checkout, if rumpled still clothed. And then we were out by the car, putting the purchase in the back seat. It was a large bag, and I was situating it on the floor so it wouldn't fall over and tear and spill at a sudden stop or something. I wasn't even aware of the hand that'd crept between my legs from behind until it was sliding up and down and up and down, pressing against me so lovingly. I stood up so fast I nearly smashed my head on the door frame. In a second I had the door slammed and Tracy pinned against the car, kissing her madly, one hand caressing her behind while the other cupped a breast. "God what I'd like to do if this parking lot wasn't in a strip mall with hundreds of people all around." She smiled lightly and playfully pushed me away, then looked down shyly, her hands sort of gathered at her throat. Her hands dropped down her front a few inches. I nearly fainted when I realized she was unbuttoning her shirt. She stopped midway down, then gave her shoulders a shudder, giving a little billow to the fabric. Tracy turned a sly look my way. There may have been hundreds of people well within sight of her, but I was the only one privileged to be at the proper vantage, close enough and at just the right angle to see the marvelous display of her breast in profile. I stepped forward, slipping my hand inside her shirt, feeling the sweet warmth of her warm flesh. I tweaked her nipple and she shivered. "Tracy," I hissed in her ear, "lightning could strike now and I'd die the happiest man who ever lived."

"God, you're easy," she giggled. "In that case, we'll put you permanently in the record books because I've got a plan," she declared, "that involves you driving me home. In all respects."

There really wasn't anything else to do but get in the car and drive back to Maud's. I'd barely backed the car out of the slot when she turned to me with the comment, "You know, if you walk into the house looking like that," she gave a nod at my lap, "everyone's bound to think I've been teasing you." It was true that my condition had been going on for so long that it felt due to an infusion of not blood but concrete, which had set and turned to stone. "And one thing I've never been is a cock-teaser. In fact, I pride myself on being a cock- pleaser." That in itself was almost enough to set me off. "And it is my personal opinion," she continued purring while releasing her seat belt, scooting over and placing her hand on the subject of her dialogue, "that it would be quite a shame to waste such a fine erection as this."

Somehow I managed not to just shoot off in my pants. Before I could blink I was rewarded with a lesser release, the front of my jeans splayed open to the bottom of the zipper, underwear drawn bunched down just enough for my cock to spring up like a rocket ready to blast off to the heavens. "Ooh," Tracy cooed, "he looks so lonely, like he could really use a nice warm wet kiss." She lowered her head and engulfed my crown. This while I was trying to make a tricky left turn out of the parking lot. I was shocked to find myself then driving down the road, instead of crashed into every other car in the vicinity.

"Lift your butt," Tracy commanded, "I want immediate access to all the good parts." And there I was, having negotiated another left turn at the light, tooling down a residential side street with my pants tugged down to my ankles, knees spread wide. I was glad the car was an automatic, because no way could I have managed a second pedal. While I make no claims on being part mule, Tracy had me feeling like I better trade in on a convertible. I felt like waving out the window and shouting to all the people puttering around their yards, "Hey, hi, I'm getting the best blow job that ever was!" But I was incapable of any words. I was all moans, then mournful sighs as yet again Tracy took me to a glimpse of the top only to stop, pull away, and smile. "Oh, please," I finally groaned. "Oh, you know I will," she sparkled, "eventually," dropping down for more.

The fingers of her left hand were gently juggling my balls while her right firmly jacked the base of my cock, her mouth working all sorts of magic on the head. I thought, this is it. But then again she stopped. There were tears in my eyes. She rose up and licked a wide wet circle around my mouth, then asked, "Ready? I want you to come in my mouth right now like crazy." She plunged and swallowed me whole, sucking like I've never known before. She didn't move her mouth, her cheeks moving in and out, though her tongue was sliding all around in impossible contortions. Her left hand was squeezing my balls just this side of painfully. The right hand, now freed, disappeared, until all of a sudden I felt a slick finger duck down then slip way up inside my unsuspecting asshole. Fortune smiled upon me, the moment finding me foot down on the brake at a stop sign, the rearview mirror a stretch of unoccupied asphalt. Though generally not inclined to hyperbole, I did at that juncture feel like half my body weight had turned to sperm, gone from me in endless gushes down Tracy's throat. I felt as if I'd not only died, but despite my earthly transgressions I'd not only skipped hell but gone straight to sit on the golden throne itself.

At length, Tracy lifted and crawled up my chest. She gave me a very small, chaste, quiet kiss, her lips like her eyelids closed. But as she finished, a low moan erupted up her throat, throwing them both open wide. Her mouth went wet, wild and deep, her tongue bearing the taste of a longing to share. Eventually she withdrew with a smile, allowing me the life to proceed through the intersection.

"And that was only a preview," she thrust back up to inform my ear with a thick and husky tongue.

"And that was only a preview," I managed to murmur back.

"Yes, of coming attractions," she relayed.

"Of coming attractions," I repeated.

"And Robert... if you think I have a talented mouth... " her tone turned wicked.

- - -

I did my best to recover and not absolutely stagger when I went back into the house. I had to make myself scarce for about twenty minutes, hoping to reclaim my wits. Finally my blood pressure was back to normal. By then, everyone was sitting out on the back deck. That was good, I thought. The rest of the house was now safe for me to roam. I went into the kitchen and heated up the coffee, wondering how I was going to make it through the rest of the afternoon. I poured a cup and was stirring in some sugar when I glanced through the window and saw Tracy stand up and start towards the back door. In a flash, I was out the front door. I stopped on the porch, trying to decide my next move. I couldn't very well stroll down the street carrying a mug of hot coffee. The best bet would be to set the coffee down, but by the time I did that it was too late.

"So there you are!" Tracy came out the door. "Say, Robert," she smirked, "you're not trying to avoid me, are you?"

I nodded yes.

"How come?" she reached out and fondled me down there.

"Careful!" I hissed.

"I'm sorry," she stepped back surprised. "Did that hurt?"

"No. The exact opposite. Tracy, I'm trying hard to get myself back under control. I don't think it would be very good form if I started growling and howling and pulling our pants down in front of the others."

"No. But it might be fu-u-un!" she trilled. She giggled and smiled, then remarked, "It's a good thing I'm not wearing light colored pants."

The seeming non-sequitur confused me. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Because," Tracy grabbed my hand, guiding it down between her legs, "there would be a rather dark spot right here."

"Oh, Tracy," I moaned. The cloth at the crotch was damp to the touch.

"As you might imagine," she breathed heavily, "my panties are soaking wet. Don't forget, I haven't had my fun yet. But I intend to. And I need you back in public so I can set the stage for later."

Still mesmerized by what I felt, I started stroking her through the layers of material.

"Don't!" she gasped, pushing my hand away. "If I get anymore worked up, all the world will smell it. And then they'll think some cute guy's been waving his big beautiful magic wand around in my face. And I wonder who that could be? You wouldn't want them thinking that you're a big cunt-tease, do you? You're not a cunt-teaser, are you?"

"No ma'am," I grinned. "I aim to please."

"And I bet you hit the bull's-eye everytime."

"Everytime," I reached up her shirt, gently squeezing both her breasts.

Tracy paused in the doorway and checked inside, then wiggled her bottom, looking back over her shoulder to waggle her eyebrows at me. I licked my upper lip in a long slow response. I gave her a decent distance, then retrieved my coffee and followed through the house back out to the deck. Apparently she had gotten a little more excited, because I was able to follow the trail of her scent. Fortunately it wasn't particularly overt, nothing you would really notice unless your brain was already totally fixated on the sensations of such a lushly blooming flower brimming with dew.

The gathering out on the deck wasn't as difficult as I had imagined. Sure, there was a whole new world of meaning behind her eyes when Tracy looked at me, but it wasn't anything anyone else could see without knowing the context. Things didn't degenerate into a series of grotesquely indiscreet pantomimes between us. A few times during the shifting of the several hours she lingered an extra moment or two when she had to move her sweet tush closest to my face, while fetching a refill of iced tea, or stretching to adjust the angle of the big umbrella above the table. Most importantly, from my perspective, though there were stirrings enough for me to know that my penis was more than ready, willing and able for another round of fun, it was generally content to behave itself.

At some point, when the child was well off amusing himself in the yard, the four of us got to actually have some uninterrupted grown up talk. We were discussing our favorite books and authors. When the conversation lagged for a minute, Tracy suddenly brought up my least favorite subject, my own stories. My private little vice. I would have been less embarrassed to talk about my masturbatory habits. There was a time when I would set myself into a serious mode and send out submissions, but the postage and envelopes and disappointments exacted too heavy a toll. Anymore, I just worked up clean finished copies, and filed them into boxes, to the utter consternation of the few people in the know. Every year or two I would show around a piece to close friends or family. I'd recently made that very mistake. I sort of sputtered the familiar litany of excuses, the most honest being that I no longer had any idea of what places existed that might even be interested in my piddly offerings. Tracy quickly piped up, "I have a whole shelf full of small press journals and such. Please feel free to come over sometime and browse through them, and borrow any that you want."

"Well, sure," I replied, recognizing the cue, "thanks. Maybe I will sometime."

Finally the conversation shifted. My mind drifted, catching something about how Tracy had spent more than she could really afford buying the big bag of cat food, but how it'd been on such a sale she would've been a fool not to.

Eventually we all gravitated back indoors. Tracy and I could have reeked of fresh sex, and still it would have been overwhelmed by the making of dinner, boiling pasta, bubbling tomato sauce and garlic bread baking. At the table, I came to notice that Tracy was using just her right hand to eat and drink. I didn't have long to wonder about it as her hidden hand quickly arrived under the table cloth from her lap to mine. I thought, no fair! Then I thought, fair's fair! I slipped off a shoe and then swung my toes around between her thighs. There was a different kind of commotion going on at the other end of the table. My son, who ritually refuses to be served any sort of sauce on his pasta, had somehow gotten the front of his shirt looking like he'd taken a shotgun blast to his chest. All that noise masked Tracy's little gasp, and, as she withdrew her hand, she whispered, "TouchÈ."

The rest of the evening unrolled, I realized, exactly according to plan. We all sat around talking for awhile, and then it was time to pop the children's movie in the VCR. Tracy remembered she was expecting a long-distance call in about twenty minutes. There was that time factor, but as well she flipped through her wallet and realized she'd spent too much on the catfood to have cab fare home. I'd seen the movie too many times already and was planning to go in the bedroom to read instead, so with a roll of my eyes towards Maud and Sue, I gallantly offered to give her a lift.