NOTE: Thank you for your ratings and comments. I am glad that my first effort to write an erotic story was so well received. I am an old softy who loves romance. I love romcoms and romance stories and it is my desire to write stories that women would read and enjoy, so I would appreciate hearing from women about their thoughts.
Though the story is fictional, the characters are based on real people. I have tried to depict them as the people they are, who are not perfect physical specimens. Adam is a shorter than average man with extra weight and smaller aging genitalia. The women are struggling with extra pounds, cellulite, smaller boobs - you know...normal people, because normal people are sexy, too.
Please enjoy this next installment of
Adam's Girls
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Betsy
Round 1: The Fight
It had been several weeks since my morning with Shelly. It had been hard to face each day knowing that I wouldn't get to kiss her and hold her close. It was especially difficult the first few days. How could 2 1/2 hours of ecstasy change my feelings so drastically! I missed her more than I could have imagined.
But as the days passed and a week passed and then another, life got back to 'normal'. One thing I learned with my eight years of forced celibacy was to bury the raging desires down deep. I did masturbate to the memory of our experiences together. I didn't hear anything from her as per our understanding and no news from the regular phone conversations my wife had with Shelly's mom, Brenda. I hoped that she wasn't hurting as much as I, and at the same time hoped she missed me too.
Three weeks had passed since Shelly backed out of my driveway, and I was busy around the house, doing my morning chores: dishes, cleaning counters and folding laundry (Laurie never let me do the laundry because I was terrible at sorting colors - I never really saw the point until all my white tee shirts ended up pink. By that time I was banned from doing laundry and I never objected. Sometimes, rarely, but sometimes it pays to do a lousy job.) And..., I had my work of soil analysis for Gerard Realty, a new client.
Then the doorbell rang. I checked the time. It was just 9:00 A.M. I wasn't expecting anyone. I put the shirt I was hanging up aside and headed for the door and saw a pick-up truck in my driveway. It looked familiar but I am not a car person. My wife always teases me because when she asks questions like "What kind of car did they drive?" I would answer "a blue sedan" They all look alike to me. I opened the door and it was Betsy, we usually called her Bets, Shelly's older sister! Bets was married to Jerry Knott, a fiber optic technician who basically did the same job as a lineman except stringing and maintaining internet fiber optic cable. He was a nice guy but we had heard things about their relationship that had us a little worried about her. We, that is to say, I had told her that if she needed a place for shelter to come to Laurie and I. We would take care of her. I secretly had an old man crush on her, she was "hot"...more about that later.
"Good Morning Bets, What can I do for you?"
"Hi Adam," she asked without a smile. A little unusual, Bets was always smiling, something was wrong. "Is Laurie here?"
"No, she's at schoo...,". I got only those words out before Bets threw a right jab and caught me a glancing blow on the side of my head above my ear. I was completely surprised but reacted instinctively. She would have got me in the jaw but I ducked at the last minute. Just the same, it knocked me back into the house and my arm knocked over a small wood figurine as I went down. As I fell she pointed at me and yelled, "YOU FUCKED MY SISTER!!" The blow didn't hurt as much as her words! SHELLY HAD TOLD BETSY! OUR SECRET WAS OUT!
As I took stock of myself, I could tell I wasn't hurt badly just a little headache.
I looked up at her and she continued, "IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME!" She shook her hands in front of her then crossed her arms in anger, but there were tears in her eyes. I wasn't sure if it was from hurt or anger. "Dammit, it should have been with ME!" she reworded her declaration!
"Get in here and close the door, If a neighbor saw that, they will have the cops here!" With that her demeanor changed and she closed the door. She knelt beside me and began to help me up.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?" She was a sweet girl and I could tell she was concerned.
"No, I'm just stunned. Shit! I'm glad I ducked, I'd be out cold right now. I'm okay, I'm okay." She helped me to my feet and guided me to the couch. "Now what did you say? What's this all about?" It was too late to plead innocent, I knew, but it was worth a try.
"Do you need an ice pack? Can I get you a glass of water? What can I do?"
"I'm alright," I insisted then caught sight of her hand. Her knuckle was bleeding a little and swelling up.
"I could use an ice pack and while you're at it get one for your hand. In the fridge freezer, on the door. She went into the kitchen and came back with a dish towel and two ice packs. She had a sheepish grin on her face. She put the ice pack on my head and waited for me to hold it there, then wrapped the other around her hand.
"I may be hurt worse than you," she said, "this hurts like hell!"
"Let me see," I said. She extended her hand and I held it up to examine it. I could see it was superficial, swollen and bleeding a little but no broken fingers, "I'll get a bandage."
"You stay put, I'll get it."