Odd Jobs: Plumbing Issues Ch. 02

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The water streaming down on my head felt like pure bliss. I stood still for an entire minute, absorbed in the sensation, without a single thought disturbing it. Then I tilted my head up so that the shower blast hit me full in the face, and after a couple of seconds of that I opened my mouth to allow the hot water to wash away the taste of Valerie.

I could have stood under that shower for half an hour, letting the water flow over me, but I had vague, unformed questions I wanted answered, and undetermined things I wanted to do, so I soaped up, rinsed off in a hurry, quickly dried off, and put on the bathrobe Valerie had given me. I walked out of the bedroom and saw Valerie working in the kitchen.

“Oh, that was quick! You take over, Jack, while I get cleaned up. Everything is set up. Just pour the pasta into the colander when the timer goes off, spray a little cold water on it, and I should be out in a jiffy.”

She started walking toward the bedroom, but as she passed by I reached out and took her hand. She stopped for a second, smiled, and gave me a little kiss on the cheek.

I stood in the kitchen pretending to be busy, watching the pasta simmer. My body radiated that indescribable, wonderful glow of too-long-delayed sexual satiation, and I was also completely famished. But my mind had re-engaged: I couldn’t help thinking about what had happened, trying to make sense of it.

The facts were obvious. I had just been — quite willingly, indeed eagerly — seduced by a woman who was twice my age, about as old as my mother would have been if she was still alive. The sex had been — how to put this delicately — un…fucking…believable. Half of me was grinning like an idiot; half of me was lost in space.

Up to that point in my life I had had good sex, bad sex, great sex, horrible sex; sex with girls I liked, sex with girls that were okay, sex with a girl — make that a couple of girls — I really didn’t like all that much, and sex with a girl, or rather a girl-woman, I loved. The latter, Suzy, was the only real woman I had made adult love with, and it had been quite different from the middle school adolescent fumblings, the high school desperate hormone urge grapplings, and the college exploratory adult need-fulfillments. But I had absolutely no precedent for Valerie.

As I stood staring at the bubbling pasta, I said to myself: “Jack, you are hypoglycemic. Jack, that woman in there just rocked your fucking world. Jack, stop thinking, eat dinner. Jack, stop thinking, see what happens.” Now if you’ve ever tried to stop thinking, you know what an exercise in futility that is, but I was saved by the bell.

The timer went ‘ding,’ I tested a strand of the linguini to make sure it was al dente, poured it into the colander and sprayed a little cold water on it, as I had been instructed. As I was busying myself about this task, Valerie quietly came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, feeling warm through her robe and smelling of soap and shampoo.

“Well done, Jack. Not only are you handy, you can cook, too!,” she laughingly murmured in my ear. I finished what I was doing, spun around and took her face in my hands, and planted a friendly wet kiss on her mouth.

Valerie responded in kind, softly moaned, but then she gently pushed me away. “Now don’t get that started again just yet, big boy; I want to feed you something so that you can keep your strength up!”

I laughed out loud at that, my questions pushed completely out of my mind for the moment by her soft brown eyes and her radiant smile.

Dinner was excellent. I learned that Valerie had lived in Italy and in France for extended periods of time and had picked up culinary skills in both countries. The food was simple: just pasta primavera — the Italian, not the American version, a small garden salad, a caprese salad, and some crusty bread, but the ingredients were clearly the best that money could buy, and everything tasted superb. I could have eaten everything Valerie put on the table, but I restrained myself, not wanting to fall into a catatonic stupor.

We kept the conversation light during dinner. I learned a little bit about her life trajectory, and she learned something about mine.

Valerie came from a world I had only heard about: She wasn’t born into the most extreme wealth, but she came from a long-established upper class New York family, grew up on the upper East Side of Manhattan with a second home in Connecticut, private schools, vacations in Europe, all the high cultural education and sophistication I was only beginning to become acquainted with.

Valerie had been born into a class where style and fashion is de rigueur, but she became interested in both the creative and the business side of it, leading to a career track that brought her to where she was today: a top executive of a company that translated haute couture into clothes that real women can wear.

She told me she loved every minute — well, most minutes — of it, escort gaziantep bayanlar but she was in the process of disengaging. Between her family wealth and her savings, she really didn’t need to work any more, and the necessary travel, the deal-making, and the management of oftentimes prickly egos was no longer as much fun as it had been in the past.

I gave her the nickel tour of Jack Wilson, a much shorter trip given the difference in our ages: A big SoCal middleclass whitebread family only a generation removed from being real Okies and hillbillies; public schools in Orange County; high school fun, angst, and juvenile delinquency; escape from Southern California to life on the road for a couple of years; finding an intellectual interest during my travels in Europe and Asia; undergrad studies leading to a spiritually fulfilling but economically worthless B.A., and enough IT skills to pay the bills; and now more or less spinning my wheels while I figured out what was next.

I didn’t elaborate much on the Suzy phase of my life, knowing Valerie already had some of Suzy’s version, and in any case, for some inexplicable reason, that part of my life now seemed strangely odd to discuss with a woman I had just met, and had just fucked.

As we finished eating Valerie noted that we both appeared to be in transitional phases of our respective lives.

I saw that as an opening, and was about to ask the ‘big question’ that had been forming in my mind — “What is this?!” — but Valerie saw it coming, and before I could get it out she cut me off with “Would you like an espresso? I’ve got some nice, light mango gelato for dessert.”

The way she smiled at me as she asked that I could only swallow my words and say, “Yeah; that would be great.”

When she came back with a tray of the coffee and the gelato, she suggested we move to the couch. We ate and sipped in silence.

Finally Valerie broke through it.

“It doesn’t take very much of my women’s intuition to tell you are thinking about something, Jack. If you would, please let me into your thoughts.”

Valerie said this with such kind, simple sincerity that my hesitation and anxiety dissolved.

I paused for another few seconds. Finally I looked into her eyes, and said, “Valerie, I’m kind of wandering in the dark here. To be honest, I’m blown away, and I’m trying to get my bearings. I think it is obvious that I like you, and that you like me. Given what we were doing an hour ago, hearing myself say that makes me feel pretty ridiculous. What I’m trying to say is, you are gorgeous, the sex you gave me was absolutely incredible, I want more. I’m trying not to overthink this, but…,” and then I simply ran out of words, and courage, and looked down at my hands.

Valerie smiled at me. The gentle warmth in her eyes opened my heart. She paused for a moment, and then she softly said: “Thank you, Jack. I’ve given this a lot of thought but, obviously, I came at you with no warning. Let me tell you what I hope will happen, and then, if you will, tell me how you feel about that.”

“As I said, I’d like us to become friends. To be perfectly clear at the outset, there is no ‘happily ever after’ fantasy from my side, at least not the imaginary one you see at the end of romcoms. I’m a lot further along in my life than you are in yours. I was married for twelve years. It was great for most of its duration, but life changes drew us apart. Yet we still love each other very much. When I was young I had a couple of affairs where — due to both of our and nobody’s fault — the end was pretty bad, but I’m done with that forever, I hope. Over the last twenty years when my affairs have run their course and ended, I still love the men, and I believe they still love me.”

“What does all this have to do with you? I’ve never had a lover where the age difference was anywhere near this large; I guess this is kind of an experiment, as awful as that sounds when I say it out loud. But, as I said, I saw you, I wanted you, and I learned enough about you to believe that acting on my desire was not likely to cause you any harm. And that is my number one concern here: the last thing I want is for us — whatever ‘us’ is — to be any kind of impediment for your pursuit of a happy life.”

“I’m rambling, but maybe you can sort this out. Bottom line, Jack, I’d like us to become good friends. From my side I now know that I don’t want this to be a one night stand, but if that is best for you, I will accept it with absolutely no hard feelings, and a wonderful memory to savor for the rest of my life. On the other hand, if our sexual relationship continues, I’d like us to be lovers for only as long as that is good for both of us as individuals. I’d like this to develop with no strings attached. If either of us — and by that I mean you, especially — becomes involved with someone else such that our sexual relationship is a problem, I want us to be honest eskort bayan gaziantep and clear with each other, and to stop that part of our relationship as dear friends that want what is best for the other. I’m not pretending that would be easy when it comes, but I’ve seen that pretty much anything worthwhile in human relations is not easy. Anyway, Jack, again, I’m kind of making this up as I go along, but I’d love to hear what you have to say about it.”

Once again Valerie had totally blown my mind. I was still reeling from the warm glow of the dopamine and the oxytocin in the aftermath of our sex extravaganza, the varied sensory pleasures of the fabulous meal she had fed me, and the sugar of the gelato and the caffeine of the espresso.

But it was her proposition that really had my head spinning: I had never had anything remotely like it directed at me. I felt like I was tripping, and it felt real good.

Almost all of my previous sexual relations with girls and women had fallen into two more or less discrete categories: 1) a single quick fuck slam bam thank you ma’am, or a very limited number of slam bam thank you ma’ams strung out over a weekend, a week, or at most a couple of weeks; 2) a more prolonged series of all-in, desperate, passionate fucks that simply had to inexorably lead — or so us silly kids thought — to the ‘happily ever after’ scenario Valerie had so correctly described as Hollywood screenwriting, inevitably ending in adolescent tragedy and tears.

Now my relationship with Suzy was unique in my history in not fitting neatly into either of the above categories. We had become good friends while we were both involved with other people; we really liked each other as fellow human beings before we fully triggered the sex hormones in each other; the baseline friendship and mutual respect part of our relationship endured throughout the inevitable ups and downs of shacking up together; and the passion that rocked us when we finally hooked up and while we were living together didn’t prevent us from parting as friends, no matter how much that hurt and really sucked when it happened.

All of this is to say that I had no clue as to what box to fit Valerie into.

After Valerie had said her piece, she sat back and let me think, watching me, not saying a word. This, too, was a marvelous gift, and I once again thought how wonderful this woman was, so comfortable with herself that she could open herself up to me in the way she had, and let me work through my feelings about the situation without putting the slightest pressure on me.

Finally I turned and looked at her. “Valerie, you said you are making this up as you go along. That sounds right to me. Given the fact that I’ve already pretty much completely melted inside you, I don’t think I need to tell you that I find you attractive. You’ve been incredibly open and honest with me, so I think it’s only right that I reciprocate: I’ve never been in a relationship anything like the one you are describing. I feel like I am a baby adult being shown something new by a full-grown adult. Again, honesty: I find this both fascinating and a little bit scary. Since you asked me to tell you what I think about this, the unvarnished truth is that I’m going to need some time alone to work through this before I can come up with any clarity for myself, much less any sort of articulate answer that I can offer to you. But that’s more of a medium term thing. In the short term, right now, there is one thing I have absolutely no questions about. I very much want to get back into your bed with you, immediately, and get going on that nice, long, romantic fuck you offered me earlier tonight.”

I delivered this speech in a sober, serious tone of voice, treating the subject with the gravity that I thought it warranted. Valerie watched me with an equally serious expression, until I stopped talking.

“Holy shit, Jack!” Valerie sputtered, giggled, and almost choked, grabbing her sides and bending over at her waist, laughing uncontrollably. “You may be a baby adult, honey,” she gasped, “but you’ve got a grown man’s way of worming yourself into a woman’s heart!”

Valerie was in tears, her face turning red, shaking her head side to side, and laughing like she was going to cry. I stared at her, not getting it at first, until I recognized that the juxtaposition of my feelings of concern about the complications of our relationship and my straight up wish to fuck her on the spot was, I guess, kind of funny.

I was slightly embarrassed, for just a second, but I got over it quick and seized the moment. I grabbed Valerie by the shoulders, pushed her back on the couch, and jumped on top of her. She instantaneously stopped laughing, and looked up at me with big, surprised eyes.

“So you think I’m funny, huh?,” I asked, staring down at her. Then I bent down and pushed my face into her neck and started nuzzling it and kissing it softly. I heard and gaziantep bayan eskort felt her take a quick breath, and let out a soft sigh, as she wrapped her arms around my back.

“Well, yes Jack, but in a good way!,” she whispered.

I didn’t say a thing in reply, I just continued to gently move my lips around and softly kiss her neck, getting the reaction I was looking for.

I could feel Valerie’s breathing getting heavier, and I could feel little catches in her breath every time I shifted from a light kiss to the slightest nip on the softest part of her throat where it meets her shoulders and her chest.

I moved from Valerie’s neck up to her lips, and softly kissed them as I looked into her eyes. She didn’t have to say a word — I could tell from her expression and the way she was holding me and pushing her lips up into mine that she was feeling the same thing I was feeling.

I softly kissed her lips over and over again, but as soon as she parted her lips for me I moved up to her eyes. She closed her eyes and I kissed each of them and her cheeks over and over again. I could feel her breathing get heavier, and hear her softly whimpering underneath me.

I moved back down her face, kissed her lips again and again, this time also licking them very softly. She welcomed me with her own tongue pushing up into mine. I could feel Valerie’s body getting warmer underneath me.

I pushed myself up off of her, grabbed the front of her robe, and shoved the two halves of it apart, revealing her gorgeous white breasts.

I leaned down and kissed her neck again, feeling her breasts moving up and down, pushing up into my chest as her breathing got quicker and deeper. I slowly kissed my way down to the big, soft mounds of her tits, kissing all around the nipples, over and over, first one breast, then the other, but not touching her nipples at all.

I kissed her tits over and over again, pushing my lips into them and sometimes licking them, but leaving the big red nipples alone. I could see her nipples getting more and more distended, and from the way Valerie was whimpering I knew she was desperate for me to suck.

I could tell I was driving Valerie nuts, and I was loving every second of it.

Finally she couldn’t stand it any more, and without a word she put her left hand on the back of my head, grabbed her right tit with her right hand, squeezed it, and practically forced it into my mouth.

But I wasn’t done torturing her yet. I accepted the tit she shoved into my mouth, but I only lightly, as softly as I could, licked my tongue around and around Valerie’s pink, puffy areola, still avoiding the nipple as much as possible.

Valerie pushed down on the back of my head harder, and squeezed her tit even harder, desperately shoving it into my mouth. But I wasn’t about to give up so close to victory, and I continued to lightly, softly, barely lick her, determined to force her to beg.

Finally, I won: “Goddamn it, Jack! Stop that right now!,” Valerie almost cried at me, a crazed, passionate, tormented tone in her voice.

I stopped, forced my head up against the pressure she was putting on it so that I could look her straight in the eye, and innocently said, “Oh. Don’t you like that? I thought you were enjoying it.”

Valerie glared at me, didn’t say a word, dug her fingernails into my scalp, and forced my head down, shoving her tit up into my mouth.

Well, too much of a good thing, as the saying goes, so I relented and gave her what she wanted.

I started softly sucking on the nipple she had forced on me, gently at first, and that made her let up on her death grip on my head a little bit. I could feel her whole body relax some as I started sucking, I heard her sigh and quietly say, “Ohhh, yeaaaah……”

I liked that, so I took over.

I got up on my elbows and took both of Valerie’s big, soft, white, wonderful tits in my hands. I gently held them both as I lightly sucked on one, and then I shifted over to the other and lightly licked it, then I sucked on it.

I went back and forth like that, nursing on her tits over, and over, and over again, completely lost in the bliss I was experiencing from sucking on Valerie’s big, beautiful tits.

Valerie had clearly forgiven and forgotten my earlier teasing because now she sighed and said, “Oh yes, baby!… That’s so nice, Jack!… That feels so, so good darling!… Please keep sucking like that! You’re making me wet!…”

Valerie’s last comment gave me an idea, so I began sucking her tits with a purpose.

Now I started sucking harder, first one nipple, then the other, and licking on them a little harder as I sucked. Valerie began really whimpering when I increased the power of my sucking, so I raised the ante again.

I started kneading her gorgeous tits just a little bit harder. As I tightly grasped one of her big, soft tits with one hand and greedily sucked and licked that long, red, delicious nipple, I used my other hand to softly squeeze and massage her other tit, then I’d let go of it and move my thumb and forefinger up to lightly pinch her big, juicy nipple.

This got the reaction I was looking for. Valerie started losing it, quietly screaming her pleasure: “Oh fuck, yes!… Fuck yes, Jack!… Suck my tits, baby!… Harder!…,” and I could feel her hips begin squirming around underneath me.

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