Never Again

Let me show you that painting

"Well, I did it," said Tim Wallace from his usual spot at the table at Marty's. Lyra Price and Kelly Forbes sat across from him in their usual spots. The three of them had been friends for about two and a half years, ever since Tim took a position as Art Director for Branson Tanner, a Seattle marketing agency.

Marty's was a bar around the corner from their workplace that had become their usual meeting spot. They often met to talk, have a few drinks and plan workplace pranks. It was Friday again, and, as usual, the Seattle rain poured down outside the windows.

"You did what?" asked Lyra, a thick black woman, roughly Tim's age of 32 years.

"I'll give you a hint," Tim replied. "'I quintuple dare you.'"

Kelly Forbes had made the quintuple dare in question. She was the other woman who sat across from Tim. Tim had developed feelings for the pretty blonde over the course of their friendship. This was a fact that hadn't come to light until after Kelly married someone else. That revelation, combined with the discovery that Kelly's husband had cheated on her only weeks after their marriage, led to a one-night stand between the two.

They agreed, afterwards, that it could never happen again and they needed to try to continue on as friends. It seemed they had been successful in that regard, spending time a friends, planning pranks and joking around. In fact, Kelly's 'I quintuple dare you' was in reference to Tim sleeping with someone else.

"I dare you to fuck Jeanie," Kelly had said. She was talking about Jeannie Novaczek, a punky, blue-mohawked, tattooed designer from the agency whom Kelly often pranked. Tim hadn't been sure at the time if Kelly was joking until several weeks later in the same bar, when Kelly and Lyra seemed to be checking on his progress.

It had been another couple of weeks since then, and it was time to cash in on the dare.

"Shut up," said Lyra, incredulously. "You did it?"

Kelly set her beer down and her mouth dropped open. "Jeannie?" she asked. "You fucked Jeannie?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I fucked her hard."

There was an unexpected silence from the other side of the table. Tim became suddenly self-conscious. "Is that... okay?" he continued.

"Yeah," Kelly waved her hand at him. "Yeah, of course. Good job, Tim," she said, with a smile he knew wasn't genuine.

Lyra's eyes darted between Kelly and Tim. "So, you've made good on the dare," she said. "You know what that means."

He did. Usually when one of them accomplished what had been dared, that person got to make the next dare.

"Yeah," he said. "I... I don't have a dare ready, so."

"Oh, come on, Tim," Lyra prodded. "Give Kelly a good dare."

"I don't really..." Tim trailed off.

"Tim," Lyra smiled. "It's the rule."

"Okay," Tim said. "I guess... I dare you to switch Sergei's office phone with David's."

Kelly didn't laugh. "Yeah," she said as her eyes began to water. "Yeah, because that's the same thing. Excuse me."

She stood and walked briskly toward the door.

Lyra's head sank. "I'm sorry, Tim," she said. "I shouldn't have pushed."

"It's okay," Tim spoke, a lump in his throat.

"Go," Lyra motioned. "Go after her. You need to settle this."

"Thanks, Lyra," he said. "I can always count on you."

Tim walked to the door and opened it to find Kelly standing under the awning fidgeting with her umbrella. "Kelly," he said. "I'm sorry."

Kelly set the end of the umbrella on the ground. "No," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm being pretty unfair. I gave you that fucking dare."

"I should have known you'd be upset," he countered.

"I have no right to be," Kelly said.

It was hard to argue with that. Tim would be stupid to try. "I understand," he said.

Kelly dropped the umbrella, rushed at him and kissed him tenderly. "I don't know how to fucking deal with this," she whispered.

"You said it yourself," Tim responded. "It can never happen again."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, it can't." She grabbed her umbrella and jogged off into the rain.

Tim wanted desperately to chase her, to go after his friend, wrap his arms around her, kiss her and be with her the way he had that one time. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. It would be selfish for him to do so.

He slowly walked back into the bar and sat down across from Lyra.

"Intense," she said. "Is Kelly okay?"

"I hope so," Tim replied, "but I have the feeling I just lost a good friend."

Lyra's hand slipped over his. "I'm so sorry, Tim," she said. "Let me buy your next round and you can talk about it as long as you like."

Tim smiled. "Thanks Lyra, but I'm going to be late as it is."

"Late for what?" she asked.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Me and a few of the designers are supposed to go to Marion Tanner's house for dinner tonight."

"Suck-up to the big boss?" Lyra inquired.

Tim nodded his confirmation. "I already said I'd go. It would look bad if I ditched."

"Better go, then," said Lyra. "Try to enjoy yourself. Try to keep your mind off Kelly."

"I'll try."

"And I'm sorry. I kind of pushed you into going through with that dare with Jeannie."

"It's not your fault, Lyra. It was my decision. Okay, I have to run, but I'll talk to you Monday."

"Just remember, Tim," she said. "You needed to get her out of your head. That's why you slept with Jeannie. You still need to get her out of your head for your own good, and for hers."

Tim nodded.

Lyra hugged him goodbye and Tim headed out to his car. He flipped through radio stations as he tried to put the evening's events behind him. After a half-hour drive, Tim arrived at Marion Tanner's house.

Marion greeted him at the door and invited him in. Marion Tanner was the co-founder of the agency. She was a striking woman in her mid fifties, with blue eyes and brown hair with streaks of gray. She was surprisingly cordial considering that Tim was about an hour late to the party.

David, Phillip, Sergei, Samantha, and Jeannie were already finishing up their dinners. Each one was a different creative type, with differing looks and styles.

Jeannie Novaczek had a pierced eyebrow and a party-girl body. Her hair was dyed the same blue as her eyes, shaved on the sides into a sort of wide Mohawk. He couldn't help but remember what she looked like naked, her ornate tattoos covering her pearly skin.

Sergei Sidelnykov was a fifty-something Creative Director. He had thick, horn-rimmed glasses, slicked blonde hair and a very European wardrobe.

Phillip Bartolomeo was a young, portly, red-haired metrosexual designer who lived to talk about indie music.

Samantha Wengler was a homely sort, a fellow Art Director of indeterminate age, with a bob haircut, out of fashion glasses and the most plain-jane type of apparel hanging on her stick-figure frame.

David Kendall was one of the Associate Creative Directors, a handsome man of about forty years. He had dark-brown hair and knew how to pull off the business-casual look, a blazer over a t-shirt and jeans.

Marion offered Tim some food. He accepted, but just picked a few items to carry on a small plate as he followed the group of artists to the kitchen for an after-dinner glass of wine. Marion had most likely been drinking for a while. She seemed more relaxed than he normally saw her when she was in the office, as rare as that event was.

When she was in the office, she tended to dress well, a professional look. It was a change of pace to see her in her home environment wearing a pair of jeans, no shoes and an un-tucked, white, button-down shirt.

Samantha Wengler stood, holding a glass of wine and not saying whole lot. Jeannie Novaczek pretty much watched the clock the entire evening, looking for the right time to bow out. Sergei dominated the conversation, seeking opportunities to name drop and mention the great thinks he'd seen or done. Phillip nodded and commented sycophantically to everything Sergei said. David and Marion had decided to ignore Sergei's filibuster and were gradually turning side comments into a completely separate conversation.

This left Tim caught between two conversations. One that he couldn't really hear and one that he didn't want to hear.

David motioned to Tim. "Hey, you did that stuff for Dynacorp, right?"

Tim seized the opportunity and stepped over to where David and Marion were standing. "Yeah, about a month ago," he replied.

"It's fantastic," said Marion. "You did that? It's terrific work."

"Thanks," said Tim. "It had its share of challenges, but it turned out pretty well."

"Tim's one of the best Art Directors we have," said David.

"Thanks Dave," Tim replied.

"You know what the art reminds me of?" said Marion, in her smooth English accent. "It reminds me of Preston Silver."

"Is that an artist?" asked Tim.

"Oh, yes," she answered, "one of my favorites. I have one of his paintings. I can show it to you later, if you like."

"Sounds great," Tim smiled.

"I think you'll like it, Tim," said David. "You're in for a treat." He gave Marion a quick wink, a curious gesture, Tim thought. "Well, I ought to be heading home," David concluded.

"Thanks for being here, and good luck in the new job," said Marion, giving him a quick hug. David waved at the rest of the guests, including Sergei, who didn't stop talking long enough to notice. Then he stepped out the front door.

"New job?" asked Tim.

"Oh, I thought you knew," said Marion. "David accepted a job as Creative Director for Hemisphere."

"Oh, wow," Tim exclaimed. "I didn't know that."

Tim looked over at Jeannie. She seemed relieved that Dave had left. The seal had been broken. With one guest gone, she no longer bore the burden of being the party-pooper. She quickly excused herself, and Samantha followed.

Tim stood next to Marion, half-heartedly listening to Sergei go on and on with Phillip. She leaned over and whispered. "Come see the balcony."

Tim smiled and grabbed his wine glass from the counter, happy for the escape. He followed Marion to the balcony, which looked out over a pond. "This is a nice house, Marion."

"It's nicer out here, right now," she joked.

Tim laughed. "Yeah. Does Sergei ever shut up?"

"Hey now," Marion said. "That's the Creative Director you're talking about... I'm joking. No, I don't think he's capable."

The rain had thankfully stopped. It had turned into a lovely night. Marion leaned against the railing; glass in her hand, her hair drifting back away from her face. She was quite attractive for a woman in her fifties. Tim recalled the kiss Kelly had given him earlier and realized his arousal was in danger of becoming apparent. He was thankful that it was dark out, but he had to make an effort to keep Kelly off his mind. The top two buttons of Marion's shirt were undone, and as she held her shoulders back to prop herself against the railing on her elbows, her collar separated, revealing her upper chest. This did nothing to help Tim's state.

"I'm surprised," said Tim. "I thought I'd meet the rest of your family tonight."

"No, just me," said Marion, "I have an ex-husband back in England. My daughters are both in college in other states, so it's just me."

"Why do you have such a big house, then?" Tim asked.

"I honestly don't know," Marion replied. "Truth is, I'm on the road so much that I barely need a permanent address. I've thought of selling it a few times, but having a home somewhere is awfully nice."

"Ever have visitors?"

"Had six of them this evening."

"No, I mean people you don't work with."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "That's none of your business," she laughed.

"No, no," Tim stammered. "I meant..."

"I know," said Marion. "I'm having some fun with you." She looked him up and down quickly. "How about you? Do you... ever have visitors?"

"You mean..."

"Girlfriends. Do you have anyone you're seeing?"

"I'm..." Tim was having a hard time not picturing Kelly Forbes naked in the back of her SUV, rain pelting the windows as his body pressed against hers. "I'm not sure."

"I see," said Marion. "No prospects? What about that Kelly you spend so much time with at work. You two always seem like you're together when I'm in town."

"No," Tim answered, taking a sip from his glass. "No, not Kelly."

"Not interested?"

"Not available."

"I see," Marion nodded. "Unrequited?"

"Not unrequited," Tim admitted. "Married."

Marion nodded. She understood. "What about the other one? What's her name? Who's the other girl, the black girl? Lisa?"

"Lyra?"

"Yes, Lyra. What about her?"

"She's a friend."

"No better way to begin than as friends," she said. "David and I have been friends for years."

"David Kendall?" Tim's eyes widened. "You have a relationship with Dave?"

"Heavens no," Marion laughed. "I don't do relationships, not anymore."

"So you..."

"We've had a night or two, that's all," she said. "I'm a busy woman."

"I see," said Tim. He was seeing his boss in a different light. She was at home, relaxed and casual. There was an elegant sexuality to her.

Marion looked through the glass doors, through her living room and into the kitchen. "Unbelievable," she said. "I can't believe they're still gabbing away in there. Sergei knows how to overstay his welcome."

"I hope I haven't overstayed mine."

"Nonsense. I just don't like the idea of someone holding my kitchen hostage."

"Yeah, As long as Sergei has an audience I don't think he's going anywhere, and Phillip is his kind of suck-up."

"Stay here," Marion said. "I'll tell them you left. Maybe Sergei will leave and his protégé will go with him."

"It's worth a try," Tim laughed.

"You'll stick around though, won't you?" she urged. "I still need to show you that Preston Silver painting."

Marion stepped into the house, leaving Tim alone in the quiet pleasance of the evening air. He wondered what Kelly was doing, if she had gone home into the comfort of her husband's arms. In a way, he hoped she had. He hoped she would just be with her husband and be happy. If Tim had any chance of putting Kelly behind him, he would have to do things differently, maybe find someone of his own. He needed to close the book on Kelly, but in the mean time, he had to move on. Perhaps Lyra had been right. Perhaps hooking up with Jeannie had been a good idea after all. Perhaps, at least, he was on the right track.

Marion returned. "I'm good," she bragged.

"They left?"

"They left." She tugged on Tim's sleeve. "Let me show you that painting."

He followed her through the living room, through the kitchen, and down the hall to an open door. Stepping through, Tim saw a large painting over a high, king sized bed.

It was her bedroom.

"Doesn't it remind you of your Dynacorp work?" Marion asked.

"Yeah," said Tim. "A little."

It didn't. It was becoming obvious that Marion had used the painting to get him alone in her bedroom. He wasn't sure if this pleased him not. The thought of being seduced by Marion Tanner was undeniably exciting, but he had dipped his pen in the company ink twice already, something he admitted was a bad policy. Furthermore, Marion was his boss; not just his boss, the co-owner of the company.

The attractive fifty-something woman climbed onto her bed. She lied on her side, looking at him. Somehow, two more of the buttons on her white shirt had come undone and it had fallen open to reveal her bra. Tim conspicuously tried to keep his eyes on the painting, but his erection was difficult to hide at this point.

"You're a handsome man, Tim," Marion said. "It's a lovely night, and it's just the two of us."

Tim's eyes pulled away from the painting toward Marion. "It's nice to get better acquainted with you," he said.

"It's a pleasure to have the company," she smiled, her piercing blue eyes locked with his. "You're welcome to stay a while... become a bit more comfortable."

"Do I seem uncomfortable?" Tim smiled back.

Marion laughed, tossing her hair back across her neck. "Yeah. A little. Don't worry so much. I know that you're a young guy and you might not be interested in spending the night with a woman in her fifties. I won't take it personally, and whatever you decide to do, I won't make things difficult for you at work. I'm barely in the office these days."

"You're an excellent negotiator," said Tim.

"I wouldn't be where I am today if I wasn't." Marion got back to her feet and stood in front of Tim. "What do you think?"

Tim paused. "I think I need to see more," he said.

"Now who's the negotiator?" Marion smiled. She unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. She grabbed her glass of wine from the nearby table and sipped it, keeping her eyes locked to his, seductively. "I'd like see more too," she said.

"What would you like to see?" he asked.

Marion placed the fingernail of her index finger between her teeth. "You know what I want to see, but why don't we start with your shirt?"

Tim removed his shirt. "If you want more than that, you'll have to kiss me first," he said, playfully.

Marion placed her wine glass back on the table, pressed against him, shook her hair back away from her face and touched her lips to his, gently. Tim couldn't believe he was kissing his much-older boss. His lips caressed hers and she responded with increasing passion. Marion's hands ran over the small of his back as they kissed.

Tim's hands ran under her shirt, touching her skin, climbing up until he had unhooked her bra. His erection pressed against her, wanting to be freed from the confines of his jeans.

Her lips parted from his. "You've unhooked me," Marion said. "Well done." She unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way, took it off, slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms to the floor.

She stood in just her panties, exposed. She was very well put together for a woman of her age. Her breasts were about the same size as Kelly's, or maybe a little bigger, but hung slightly from the passage of time. She was thin with a slight swell just under her belly button. She was elegant and sexy. "It's your turn," she said, in her irresistible English accent. "Take off your pants."

Tim kicked off his shoes, removed his socks and pulled down his jeans. His erection stood out against his boxers. "So, here we are," he joked.

"You know I didn't just mean your pants," Marion said. "I can see you're well equipped. Finish the job."

Tim removed his boxers. "Happy?" he asked.

Marion examined him with her eyes. "Very." She didn't wait. She wiggled out of her panties and cast them aside. She sat on the bed and shimmied back so she could lie down, her legs parted, knees in the air.

Tim approached. He ran his hands down the outside of her legs down to her ass. He knelt and kissed the inside of her thigh, closer and closer to her pussy. As his lips met her clit, Marion moaned and whispered, "Yes. Yes."

Tim licked her along the opening to her pussy. His tongue reached her clit again and he pressed against it. Marion had a hard time holding still. She fondled her nipples and squirmed as Tim's lips and tongue satisfied her.

His hands ran up her sides and back down over her hips and he kept on lapping at her pussy. "Oh, Tim," she cried out. "Don't stop. That feels so good."

He gladly continued, licking and kissing her clit until finally, with a few thrusts of his tongue, Marion was brought to orgasm. She grasped the bedspread in her fists as she tensed and let out a long "Ohhhhhhhhh, yes."

Tim didn't wait for her to recover. He grabbed both legs and pulled until she slid to the edge of her bed. The bed was high enough that by crouching slightly, his dick was in the right position for entry. He held her legs and pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of her pussy.

He pushed into Marion and she shouted "Yes. Fuck me, Tim."