Ann A Love Story Ch 89

© 2012, All rights reserved – mimaster

~*~*~*~*~*~

I could never remember being more tired; or more stressed. Staggering into the lobby of the hotel at three-thirty in the morning, I had a new appreciation for the phrase 'weary traveler'. My lower back ached. My eyes and head hurt. My legs felt like they were made of Jell-O. The only saving grace was that I didn't have to check in. I didn't even bother to unload the car. I just grabbed the bag that had my toiletries in it and headed inside so I could take some aspirin and go to bed.

I'd left Indiana much later than I'd anticipated, saying goodbye to Ann at close to one in the afternoon. Not that I was upset. The sendoff she gave me was incredible, so getting a later than planned start on my drive was worth it. But with the nightmare that was holiday traffic, and having to take unfamiliar roads the last 200 miles, a trip that normally took me nine hours ended up taking almost thirteen. After enduring that, the escapades that we had shared before I left seemed like a distant memory.

That is, until I looked at my reflection in the doors of the elevator. I'd managed to walk through the lobby without anyone seeing me, mostly because it was empty. I was so tired and out of it, I'm not sure it would have mattered, but I'd totally forgotten what I was wearing. I'd gotten out of the car and grabbed the bag and my coat, not bothering to cover up. Seeing myself in the tight baby blue T-shirt and the ridiculously small white spandex gym shorts, I let out a little laugh.

"God, she dressed me up like a Ken doll," I groaned. Looking down at the big bulge protruding from the front of the tiny tight shorts, I shook my head. "No

wonder

my crotch hurts."

I was still wearing the cock ring and the ball strap she had put on me over half a day before. It wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, but I was a little sore. Still, all I could think about when I walked off the elevator was how I needed to get to bed. I had to be at work in just a few hours.

Slipping the key into the door, I locked it behind me as I threw my bag and coat on the floor. I walked into the bathroom, needing desperately to go but finding it harder because of the things I was wearing on my cock. But even with that, I left them on when finished and pulled up the front of the tight shorts. Not because I'd promised Ann that I wouldn't take them off until I talked to her; I was just too lazy and tired. I never even bothered to get undressed. I just opened the door to head to bed.

When I walked out of the bathroom, I noticed for the first time that the light was on in the bedroom. I didn't remember turning it on when I came in, but my brain was so foggy I might have. Still, I peered around the corner wondering if I was nuts. It turned out I wasn't crazy, and I also wasn't alone.

Heather was lying on the bed closest to me with her eyes closed. She was wearing a sexy little red teddy and a pair of 4-inch heels. But that escaped me. All I noticed was that she'd also been crying...a lot. Her breathing was ragged as she lay there. I could see that her eyes were puffy and her mascara had run down her cheeks.

"Heather?" I said quietly, worried about her.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed as she woke up. Jumping up, she began sobbing again as she ran over to me, practically falling into my arms. "Oh...oh Neil! T...thank God you're here!" she cried into my shoulder.

"What's wrong, Heather...what's happened?" I said in a panic.

"W...we've been wor..worried s...sick!" she stammered through her tears.

Looking over her shoulder, I checked around the room, noticing it was just the two of us. Pushing her back with my hands on her shoulders, I bent down a little to look into her watery eyes. "Who's '

we

'? What are you talking about? What's going on?"

"M...me...and Ann! Where have you been! Y...you were supposed to be here hours ago!"

"I've been

driving

."

"Until

now

? You l...left twelve hours ago."

"Thirteen. There was so much traffic I ended up taking back roads. I just got here."

"You've got to call A...Ann right now. She's a...a mess."

"It's 3:30 in the morning, Heather."

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. "Trust me...she's still awake. She's called every half hour since midnight."

Walking over to the phone, I sat on my bed and picked up the receiver. Heather sat on the bed across from me, pulling a Kleenex from the box on the little table between the beds. There were dozens of used ones rolled up into little balls, scattered about the table, some falling to the floor. She was still shaking as she dried her eyes.

As I dialed the number, I looked at her and finally clued in to what she was wearing. "What are you doing here, anyway? And why are you dressed like that?"

She let out an exasperated sigh, her heavy chest rising and falling underneath the sheer lace of the teddy. Discarding the wadded up tissue in her hand onto the table, she grabbed another one from the box. "You were supposed to fuck me, you big dope!"

~*~*~*~*~*~

It took me over a half-hour to get Ann to calm down. Hell, it took me almost fifteen minutes just to get her to stop crying enough to listen to my explanation as to why I was so late. But that didn't stop her from being upset.

"Why didn't you stop and call?" she sobbed.

"I...I'm sorry Ann. I just wanted to get here. I never stopped."

"You drove thirteen hours without stopping," she said sarcastically.

"No. I stopped in Ohio and got gas, and then I drove across the street and went through a drive-thru at Wendy's. But other than that, I never got out of the car."

"And you never thought to stop and call me to tell me you were going to be so late."

"Ann...I said I'm sorry. Like I said, I was driving across the mountains in the dark, down winding two-lane roads I'd never been on before. I wasn't looking for a pay phone. I was looking out for deer."

"You had to stop to get off the Turnpike. Why didn't you call

then

?"

I thought about whether I should tell her about the innocent encounter with Marcy. It would have been smarter if I just didn't say anything. But at the same time, I didn't want to lie or hide anything from her.

"Because, I got distracted by the mountains," I said with a groan.

"What does that mean?"

I took a deep breath and launched into what happened. I didn't sugar coat it, or leave anything out. I figured if I was going to tell her, I needed to give her the full details...and Heather for that matter, since she was sitting there listening to half the conversation anyway.

"So, anyway, that's what happened," I finished, waiting for her to say something. She'd been silent from the moment I told her I had something I needed to tell her. They both had. I felt like I was waiting for a shoe to drop, or that big foot from Monty Python to come down and squish me.

Finally, she asked, "Is that it?"

Stunned by the question, I said, "Isn't that enough?"

"I guess I was expecting you to tell me something happened."

"Something did happen. She showed me her tits, right there along the road. And she felt my crotch."

"Aw, Neil...relax. First, while I didn't expect you to get felt up, I

wanted

someone to see you. That was the whole point of having you wear that outfit. As for her flashing you, you saw more than that when you went on Spring break in college."

"Actually, no I didn't...but that's beside the point. So...you're...okay with it?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? And now that you've told me, it helps explain why you didn't call when you stopped there."

"So, you're not mad anymore?"

"Baby, I was never mad. I was scared. I thought something happened to you. I don't know what I'd ever do without you, Neil. I love you."

"I know. I love you too, Ann. I'm sorry I scared you. If it ever happens again, I'll stop and call next time. I promise."

"Okay."

"So, you're okay?" I asked.

"Yes baby...I'm fine."

"Can I ask you a question then?"

"Sure," she replied, sounding a lot more like herself than when she'd first answered the phone.

"Can you tell me why Heather's in my room dressed in lingerie, and why she's telling me I was supposed to fuck her?"

Her infectious giggle came through the receiver, making my heart smile. I swore I could hear her impish smile as well when she said, "Oh...that."

"Yeah...what's

that

all about?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow baby. It's too late tonight...you've got to get to bed."

"Okay...but..."

"Neil, I'll tell you tomorrow."

"It's not that...I can wait on that. But I do have another question."

"Okay, but I'm not sure I'll answer it right now either."

"God...I hope you do," I groaned.

"Tell me, what is it?"

"Can I PLEASE take off this ball strap?"

She giggled again. "No...but you can have Heather take it off. And the cock ring. And let her sleep there tonight; she's been through a lot too. Goodnight baby...I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"Love you too, Anna. Goodnight." Hanging up the phone, I stared at Heather, who was now twirling her hair seductively. "So...did she tell you?"

"No. Tomorrow."

"What about tomorrow?" she asked, her lower lip pouting.

"Whatever it is, she'll tell me tomorrow. She wants us to go to bed...as in sleep. She does want you to do her a favor though."

"Yeah, what's that?"

Pulling down the tight shorts, I nodded toward my leather strapped crotch. "Can you please take these off?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a very long day. I'd gotten very little sleep, the exhaustion I'd felt from the trip having collided with the emotional stress that I'd caused by not thinking to call Ann and let her know I was hours behind schedule, which made me even more tired. If it wasn't for the three cups of strong black coffee I'd had early on, I'm not sure how I would have even made it through the morning.

But I'd been down that road before, many times. I knew what would happen. Or at least, what I thought would happen, based on the way my body usually responded to a lack of sleep. Being a night person, my internal clock had a tendency to reset around 5PM. If I was tired, for whatever reason, I'd usually have something happen that would give me a second wind late in the afternoon and I'd be good to go for the rest of the day. The hard part was making it through the workday and getting to that magical hour without dropping.

But it almost always occurred if I could make it to five. It was just the ways it hit me that varied. I'd had it happen just by going outside and getting a breath of fresh air. I'd had it happen when I found something so funny that I laughed out loud. I'd even gotten out of a tired funk just by hearing a kick ass song on the radio. Then there were the times where it would come out of nowhere, something totally unexpected that got my juices going, giving me an adrenaline boost that would jumpstart my body. In this case, it was a message on my phone at work.

Thelma, my shift partner and I were walking back from our afternoon production meeting. We'd been working together for a few weeks and I'd really come to like her. She could come off as a bitch if she was crossed, but most of the time that was because she working in a field where women hadn't been that successful in moving up. I wouldn't say she had a chip on her shoulder. It was more like she carried with her the burden of all the women before her that hadn't been able to make it as far as she had in management, and the hopes of all those waiting to follow in her footsteps.

She knew she was one of the few women that had made the leap from production employee to supervision successfully. She wore that like a badge, understanding she had a responsibility that came with it. I suppose the way she came across could be considered hard or uncaring. It was easy to think of her as bitchy. In a way, she perpetuated that image, using it to her advantage to deal with the testosterone-laden landscape she worked in among her peers.

Yet I knew better. I'd gotten that impression the moment I actually met her, despite Carol's initial warnings of how she could be. And as I got to know Thelma while working together, I saw past the armor she would adorn herself with, which was disguised as one of the long flowing dresses that she'd wear each day. Thelma was a big woman...not fat, certainly not obese. She was just tall, with a frame that was on the larger side. Big-boned came to mind, but that was a poor categorization, and an unfair one at that. She had a grace about her, one that she'd only share when she let her guard down. Apparently, I was one of the few that could get her to do it.

When the two of us were alone, whether it was in the office during our shift or somewhere in the plant, she'd occasionally drop her shield and open up. I'd been able to find a crack in that armor when I'd asked her to dance the night of the launch party. She'd tried to cover that up in the days that followed, insisting it was out of character for her. But I knew better. I just had to find the right way to get her to come out of that shell on her own.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Thelma and I had been working late one night, actually one of several dozen in a row during the start up phase. It was dark as I walked her to her car, not wanting her to cross the expansive parking lot by herself. As we made our way to our cars, she was lamenting the fact that she had to go home once again to an empty house and scrounge around to find something to eat.

"I haven't had time to go grocery shopping in over a week," she whined. "I can't believe I'm going to have to make another grilled cheese sandwich. I'm just too tired to go shopping."

"You could always stop at a fast food place on the way home, Thelma," I laughed.

"I don't eat fast food, Neil. I'm already fat."

"You're not fat. Stop saying that."

She looked up and down her body, her voice thick with contempt. "Uh...look at me."

"I do. Every day...and you're not fat. You're tall. You're not supposed to be a size three."

"I'd settle for a size thirteen," she groaned.

"Give me a break. You're not that big and you know it. Besides, it's your own fault."

"I'd like to think its heredity...but thanks for insulting me."

"That's not what I meant," I said, not backpedaling from the aggressive posture she'd just taken as she reacted to my comment.

"So, what the fuck DID you mean?"

"I just meant that if you're going to wear dresses like the ones you wear all the time, you have to expect people are going to think you're bigger than you really are."

"What's wrong with my dresses? They're comfortable."

"You say comfortable. But people see frumpy."

"Neil, I can't believe you just said that to me."

"Why not?"

"Because, it was rude!"

"It was honest."

"It was honestly rude! How I dress is my business. I've never had anyone say anything personal like that to me. Especially another manager!"

I stopped and looked at her. She was actually holding in her anger, but she was steaming. Instead of cowering like many others would have, I smiled. "Yeah...what would a friend say to you?"

"What?"

"A friend. You have them, right?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but all of my friends are still in Pennsylvania. I don't have any here."

"Yeah you do...you're looking at one. And if your friends in Pennsylvania had been better ones, they would have told you what I'm telling you now. Stop pretending to be something you're not."

"I'm not pretending. This is who I am."

"Bullshit. You can put on the act all you want, but I'm not buying it. And as your friend, I'm calling you on it."

"What are you talking about? What kind of friend hurls insults?"

"How is telling you you're not fat insulting?"

"You called my clothes 'frumpy'," she said, pulling at her dress.

"Look, I'll never understand what you went through to get where you are, Thelma. I can't imagine how much longer and harder you had to work just to get a shot. And that's totally unfair. So, I can understand why you act the way you act sometimes in there," I pointed toward the plant. "But when it's just you and me, whenever we're alone, you don't have to put on the show.

That's

insulting."

"What show...what are you talking about? I told you...this is me! You either like me or you don't."

"Well, it's hard to like you when you don't like yourself, Thelma."

"W...what?"

"Why else would you do what you're doing? You must not like yourself to keep saying you're fat all the time, and to wear things that are so unflattering."

"I...I don't do that."

"You've called yourself something derogatory eight times since we left the office. I counted. Would you like me to list them?"

Her head dropped, the embarrassment showing as her eyes batted like a bashful little girl. "No."

"As your friend, I would never let anyone else call you names. So, what makes you think that it's okay with me if you do it to yourself?"

"Wow...that's...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just be nice to yourself."

Looking down at her dress, she sighed. "So, these really make me look...fatter?"

"I never said that. I said...well, you know what I said."

"Frumpy."

"Yes, they're very unflattering. I'm sorry about being so blunt. I really just look at it as a costume."

"A...costume?"

"Sure, look at it this way. Conrad wears a leather jacket and a bandana with some Harley-Davidson emblems on it, puts a wallet with a chain attached to his belt into his pocket, and he pretends to be a biker. That doesn't mean he

is

one. You put on a dress like that, go around calling yourself awful things, put on the persona of being a bitch, all to pretend you're fat. That doesn't mean you are."

She chuckled. "Wow...you

just

compared me to Conrad. And here I thought you insulted me before. But hey, thanks for walking me to my car."

"Look, at least you can do something about it, Thelma. He's so arrogant he's never going to see how ridiculous he looks. Now I'm not saying you look ridiculous; I'm just saying you could try to look better."

Smiling politely, she got into her car. Shutting the door, she rolled down the window as she started the engine. "Thanks, Neil...but I wouldn't know where to start," she said as she put the car in gear and waved goodbye.

Watching her drive off, I felt my chest swell, my breath catching as I felt a flash of inspiration hit me as I waved back. "No. But I do," I grinned.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tapping my foot against the concrete of the little stoop, I pressed the doorbell a second time and readjusted the bag I was cradling in my arm.

"Just a minute," came the muffled call from behind the door to the modest little ranch.

Looking around in the dark, I waited, knowing that I was taking a chance showing up unannounced. When the inside door opened, I opened the storm door. "Hi. Long time, no see," I smiled.

"Neil...what are you doing here?" Thelma asked.

I held up the bag in front of her. "Groceries."

"You bought me groceries?"

"No, I bought

us

groceries. Can I come in?"

She looked down at herself, the sweatpants and sweatshirt a stark difference from the way I usually saw her dressed. "I...I don't..."

"Sure you do," I said as I walked in past her and one of her two cats. "Where's the kitchen?"

She started scrambling, scurrying around her living room to tidy up. "But...N...Neil? I wasn't...expecting company."

"I'm not company. I'm a friend. Oh...there it is," I said as I headed to the back of the house toward the kitchen.

There on the stovetop was a pan with a freshly made grilled cheese sandwich still sizzling inside, slightly burnt on the top. Setting down the bag, I grabbed the plate that was on the counter and flipped the sandwich onto it. Cutting it in half, I set the plate on the floor and grabbed a fresh package of ground beef out of the bag I'd brought.