A Strange Arrangement Ch 06

Over the weekend, Andrew worked nights and I worked all day Sunday. We didn't cross paths except at breakfast. His mood wasn't happy, but he at least wasn't too grumpy around me. On Monday, he was scheduled to be at the shop from 8-4, and I was trying to hide my eagerness for him to get out the door. Knowing he would be gone for a while, I planned to dig deeper (literally) into the mysteries in his closet.

I was standing at the sink, washing the same dishes over and over while Andrew slowly put on his work shoes, gathered the lunch I had prepared for him, and stepped outside. As soon as the door shut behind him, I pulled off the apron, wiped my hands on a towel and ran upstairs. I wasted no time in pulling out the half-dozen or so boxes from his closet floor. The top few I had already glanced through. I flipped through his wedding album again, this time noticing the fancy embroidered invitation pasted on the inside cover.

Next week was Penny and Andrew's wedding anniversary. Six years next Thursday. Regardless of what the story was with his wife, his sour mood made a lot more sense now. I was thinking about the implications of this discovery when my phone rang. I set everything down on the floor and walked over to the bed, where my phone was announcing a call from a number I didn't know. I paused a second, then scooped it up.

"Hello, this is Gina."

"Gina, Hi! This is Mary Beth from Wellspring Services and Associates. We've reviewed your resume and your application and would like to talk more with you about a position at our company. Are you still interested in seeking a position?"

"YES!" I blurted out, much, much too eagerly. "I'm sorry, what I mean is, I would love to have the chance to learn more about the position. When would be a good time to come to your office?"

With amusement in her voice, Mary Beth said, "We have slots at 3 and 4pm this afternoon and at 10am and 2pm tomorrow. I was off that day and only had snooping on my schedule, so I took the 4pm interview.

I managed to stay calm as I finished the call, but as soon as I hung up, I squeezed my arms tight against my body and then spread them wide, shouting a triumphant, "YES!" Then I recollected my wits and remembered that it was only an interview, not an offer. Still, it gave me hope that my days as a sex-toy maid were numbered.

*******

I still had the whole morning and half the afternoon ahead of me, so I pulled out another box. Lots and lots of baby pictures. Seriously, who prints pictures anymore? Even four years ago, who wasn't completely digital then? Some of the pictures were in frames, a few of which were cracked and even shattered. It was clear that someone (Penny, no doubt) had spent time hand-making some of these frames.

One especially cute one had the baby's face in the center, outlined by a heart drawn with lipstick on the glass. Andrew and Penny's smiling faces were on either side of her. The frame had wooden letters glued on it, reading, "Family is Love. Love is Forever." Cute. Naive, sappy, sentimental, but cute.

It was clear I didn't know the guy in these pictures. He had disappeared along with the woman and child, leaving a sad, tired, occasionally mopey hornball behind. It seemed to me like something had happened between Andrew and Penny, and she had left him with their daughter.

As I sat thinking about possibilities and how to confirm my suspicions, I heard my phone buzz. A text.

Are you awake?

It was from Steve.

It's 9am, do you think I'm a complete slug?

Hey, it's your day off. You should be relaxing.

One

can

relax out of bed.

Yeah, but most things are better in bed.

We normally didn't text, especially not flirty ones, so I wondered what was up.

Anyway, I was thinking it was about time to collect on that drink you owe me.

Did I make a promise while drunk?

No :) I helped you move. I believe there was a beverage or two promised.

Haha! I forgot. So basically you want to take me on a date that I'll pay for?

:-P

Ooh, now it's a date. I like the way this is going!

I'll be in town for an interview at 4. Want to celebrate with me afterwards?

Sure! Let me know when you're done and we'll meet up.

Sounds good. See you later...

So now I had an interview

and

a date today. I wasn't that interested in Steve, but he was convenient, and I really did want some male presence in my life other than Andrew. And it got me thinking. Was there someone I could set Andrew up with? Maybe not anything too serious, but if he was getting some action elsewhere, maybe he'd need a little less of my time and energy.

I remembered Angelica and her chattering coworkers, any of whom might be giddy over the idea of an evening with Andrew. Hell, they might compete with each other over the chance to bed him first!

While my mind was picturing Angelica's perky tits bouncing in front of Andrew's face, I was still pulling things out of the closet boxes. At the bottom of one box, underneath some dark roses pressed and sealed in a plastic bag, I found a manila folder with the name "Noel" written in large letters on it. I emptied the contents into my lap. A birth certificate for "Beatrice Noel," born about 4 years earlier. Some medical reports from check-ups and vaccinations during her first few months. Cards from a baby shower. A certificate with her footprint on it.

And a death certificate. She lived to be 11 months old. She died...three years ago this Wednesday.

And

now

I understood why Andrew was "on a down swing" lately. The date of his daughter's death and his wedding anniversary fell within 8 days of each other, and that time was coming up soon.

Geez, Gina, it's a wonder he hasn't totally fallen apart.

And with the holidays coming up...what a shitty time of year for him! I felt...sympathy? Pity?

These days, though I was past my hate for Andrew, my feelings towards him were still safely in the realm of disdain. But in light of this- knowing that there was such a cloud hanging over him...

And yet I couldn't stop obsessing about his wife. I started digging faster, messier, less carefully. Where was the folder marked "Penny"? Where was her death certificate? Or where was the note from her saying that she couldn't take the pain and had to get away and start a new life? For a brief moment, I wanted to hold Andrew and tell him that it was OK, tell him that life could be good and happy. I wanted to believe that myself. I wanted him to unload and tell me everything, not just so I could know, but so that I could share the weight of that intolerable burden.

I started to think about how I hated the month of June because of Ian, my brother. I started to think of how hard it was when the police came to the door that night when I was 12. I started to think of how Ian wasn't the only one that died that day- the parents I had loved and needed died, too. I never saw them again; they were replaced by hollow shells that simply managed our home for 6 years until I left.

I found myself holding the picture frame that promised, "Family is Love, Love is Forever." I thought it would be so much better to not know what you were missing, what life was denying you. I found myself crying out of pity- pity for Andrew, who was so alone, and pity for myself, who couldn't remember not being alone.

*******

I pulled it together long enough to put everything back in boxes, even if they weren't in the right boxes. I restored order to the closet and resolved to shift my attention to cooking lunch. Just so he didn't get any ideas about this evening, I texted Andrew.

Job interview at 4! Date with Steve afterwards. Don't wait up.

It was about 30 minutes later when I got a reply:

Happy for you. Good luck on both ventures.

About 10 minutes later he followed that with,

Plan on being up early tomorrow or else home tomorrow evening, please.

*******

The interview went reasonably well. I had thought ahead enough to look up the company and remind myself what they did. It was a sales job for in-home medical systems. Basically, trying to get sick and elderly people to buy products that cost more than my car. I don't think I needed any qualifications other than a nice set of boobs and the ability to speak coherent sentences. I was not really interested in sales, and letting go of a part-time job to accept a full-time job that probably wouldn't last seemed...unwise. They said they'd contact me later that week.

I put those thoughts on hold once Steve showed up. We had some light drinks (my treat) then headed to dinner (his treat). We went to a gourmet burger restaurant Steve had heard good things about. I felt a little overdressed, still wearing the business suit I took to the interview. Steve was dressed down, apparently not considering how I would need to be dressed. It was a bit awkward, but our casual conversation flowed just fine.

I didn't feel very flirty or playful. There was too much on my mind. And as much as I wanted to blame that on vocational decisions, it really kept coming back to Penny, Noel, and Andrew. Steve was enough of a gentleman not to act disappointed when I told him I was tired and needed to head home. He could tell I was distracted, and I hoped he didn't take it personally.

*******

I got home a little before nine. I walked softly up to my room and saw that Andrew's light was still on. I took off my skirt and jacket, slipped my bra off, and sat on my recliner, legs curled up under me and arms wrapped in a self-embrace. I looked out at the moon, closed my eyes and thought of Ian. I thought of happier times and less confusing seasons. Before I knew it, a half hour had passed in stillness. As another wave of tears tried to find release, I stood up and walked to the door. Wearing only my panties and a button-down blouse, I passed through the dimly-lit hall.

Andrew's light still shone from under his door. I lifted my hand to knock, then paused. I closed my eyes and strengthened my resolve.

I need this, I need this to take my mind off things. I need this to help me stop...feeling.

Satisfied, I tapped lightly and called softly, "Andrew? Can I come in?"

Silence. Then, "Yes."

I opened the door and stepped inside. Closing the door behind me, I leaned back against it, arms crossed behind me. Andrew was sitting on a glider in the corner of the room, glasses on, reading a classic novel. A lamp shone over his shoulder. I winced inwardly, remembering that the glider was from the baby's room, according to photos I wasn't supposed to have seen.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to make eye contact but not getting much higher than my bare legs.

With my fingertips, I pushed away from the door and walked towards him. I shimmied out of my panties while I took the eight or so steps across the room. Climbing onto his lap, I found there was just enough room on the glider for my knees to slide down around his hips. Andrew reached his arm out to put his book on the nightstand, but he only succeeded in dropping it on the floor, an arms-length away. I took off his glasses and dropped them an arms-length the other direction.

Andrew looked worried, which I chalked up to being stunned at my unusual behavior. But then I noticed that, rather than the sexy, confident look I was going for, I was instead showing up teary-eyed and desperate. I started babbling, "Please don't say anything. I just need this to help me stop...to help me take my mind off some things. I need something physical to drown out all the...everything else. I don't want you to...I'm not..."

I held his jaw in both hands and started kissing him. He put his hand on my chest and pushed me back gently. "Gina, this won't drown out everything else. It'll just replace it with something else. I don't want you to think that..."

"Just stop talking, please. Do you want me to fuck you or not?" I emphasized my point by grinding against his very hard cock, which was still buried in his pajama pants.

He looked like he was genuinely thinking about that question. Would he say no? It would be the ultimate power play- turning me away from sex when I wanted it, just to show he's in charge. Rejecting me when I'm obviously vulnerable and needy, just to keep me in my place. Or more likely, he might say no out of some misguided sense of chivalry.

He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of my head, looked at the strands running over his hand and said distantly, "Your hair looks nice, but I liked it better when it wasn't styled. You have this simple, natural beauty that is enchanting."

I closed my eyes and leaned in to kiss him. I choked out a few words, "Stop...talking." I ground myself on his lap and kissed him violently, my hips moving in circles and my hands holding our faces close. I reached down to the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, bunching the fabric up in my fingers as I lifted. He raised his arms and pulled his head back as I completely removed the garment. Now I could run my hands all over his chest as we resumed kissing.

Our tongues did real battle, each fighting to possess the other's mouth. My hips moved of their own accord while I closed my eyes and got lost in the sensation of his mouth on mine, his hands moving up under my shirt, one on my back and one on my side. His hand went roughly up and down my side, each time drawing a little closer to my breast, until on one upstroke he finally slid across my whole breast and held his hand there. My nipple hardened against his palm and he pressed back gently.

He pulled his hands out again and grabbed my shirt near the top button and made as if to rip the whole thing open. Thankfully, I noticed and quickly put my hands on his, saying, "No. It's my only nice shirt."

He huffed one little laugh and then started unbuttoning my blouse. With our mouths again on the attack and my hips pressing for as much contact with his covered cock as this position allowed, it was hard work for his thick fingers to get each little button undone. With three unfastened and two more to go, I couldn't keep waiting to feel skin on my breasts again. I reached down and yanked the shirt open, hearing the buttons bounce off the wall. With my shirt open, I fell forward, wrapping my arms around Andrew's neck and rubbing my breasts against his firm chest. "I guess I'll have to take up sewing," I whispered in his ear.

"Up," was all he said, patting my ass with his hand. I raised myself up as far as I could, which wasn't far, and he tried to pull his pants down. "Up," he demanded with another pat, and I got off my knees and into a crouch. That gave him enough room to slide his pajama pants and boxer briefs down, and with a few kicks, they went off to join his shirt and my panties somewhere on the floor.

Kneeling wouldn't have worked for much penetration on the narrow glider, which was swaying back and forth with our motions, so I appreciated the new position. With my feet next to his ass, I could squat down and rub my dampening slit against his hardness. I put my arms around his neck again, like a chaste hug between friends, and I was able to feel his warm skin against me from my neck all the way down. He put his hands on my back and ass and helped me slide up and down. The motion of the glider made our movements feel even more exaggerated.

I was loving how I could press and rub against his shaft like this. I'm sure he was eager to get inside me, but first I had to see how close I could get myself to the edge. The only problem was that my legs were cramping up, being in a continued squat. I lifted first one, then the other leg and put them on the cushioned arms of the glider, resting all my weight on Andrew's lap. This way, I could still thrust and could control my pressure and movements over him without needing to support my own weight. Plus, it caused my legs to spread, which opened my pussy up for more access- more contact with his warm, pulsing rod.

I could easily angle my hips to rub my clit along his cock. He had the presence of mind to push his hips forward and up a little, giving me even better access. I started moaning and gasping as our motion brought me faster and faster towards orgasm. My arms were still around his neck, my shirt still hanging on, covering only my back and shoulders. I felt a little like I was holding on to him for dear life while my lower body went berserk.

I needed a little something more, some extra stimulation to get me there. I pulled away from Andrew and leaned back, maintaining the constant friction against my slit that was taking me up the hill. Thrusting my breasts forward I panted, "Kiss...kiss them."

With no delay, Andrew's mouth and right hand were fully engaged on my nipples. With his mouth he sucked one, teasing it with his tongue. With his fingers he traced slow circles around my aureole.

It was almost enough. My breathing quickened and my moans got higher. "Mmf..yes!...please...almost...ooohhww!" When he used his teeth to gently grasp my nipple while diddling it with his tongue, I finally had my release.

With both hands I grabbed his head and pulled tight, pressing him against my chest so hard that it hurt. My hips jerked rapidly, still pushing against his firm shaft. My toes clenched and released several times in rapid succession, and my legs tried to squeeze together but were stopped by the glider.

During one of the upward jerks of my shaking hips, Andrew pushed out with his stomach, moving me just over his tip so that when I jerked downward...he was completely inside me in one motion. Once that was accomplished, he pressed firmly on my lower back, holding me in place while my walls clenched around him. The instant fullness set me to moaning and spasming a little more. An unexpected pleasure.

I don't know how long it took me to come down from that cathartic peak. I remember leaning forward against Andrew and resting my head on his shoulder, still whimpering and moaning every few seconds, when my tunnel would squeeze him. After a few minutes for me to recover, Andrew started to gently move my body up and down against him. He paused, slowly removed my blouse and began rubbing my back. I was still shivering and jerking every few moments, beautiful aftershocks of my orgasm.

"Hold on to me, babe. I'm gonna stand up." I again wrapped my arms around his neck and he used his hands to grip the armrests of the glider. He thrust his hips forward to get balanced, and that action drew a long moan out of me. He teetered for a moment, then got his balance. Wrapping me up in his strong arms, he carried me the few steps to his bed. Never disengaging for a moment, he pulled the sheets back with one hand, then lowered us to the bed.

Setting me down gently, with his arms still wrapped around my back, he than settled his weight down on me. My back arched and I let out a spontaneous "Yessssss" as his added weight just pushed his cock deep into me.

I was still feeling buzzed from cumming and my instincts were telling me to keep thrusting and rubbing. I started pushing my hips up against him with my legs locked behind him. With my arms rubbing up and down his back at the same time, it must have looked like I was trying to shimmy up an imaginary pole. Or not so imaginary. Andrew gave slow, measured thrusts, each one reaching me at my deepest spots and staying there while I gyrated and panted loudly.

Andrew propped himself up on his hands and watched me. I was almost in a trance- my world centered on our joined bodies in that moment and, for a few glorious minutes, nothing else mattered. My eyes were mostly closed, but I opened them slightly and squinted up at Andrew, my mouth open, panting, whimpering, half-forming words of lust and longing. I moved my hands down to his firm, well-curved ass cheeks and enjoyed the sensation of holding him tight that way, feeling their rocking motion.