Love Lessons at Pleasure Point 16

This chapter takes place immediately following Ch. 15 so read that one first. As always, please rate and comment. Merci, Petitmort

"What in the world did you do to that woman?"

Jessica was standing in her kitchen in Pleasure Point, pouring Paul a cup of coffee, with a bemused smile on her face.

"Emily and I took our weekly walk this morning," she said, handing him the cup. "She could barely walk straight."

Paul smiled and gave a little shrug.

"We had a good time."

"I guess you did," Jessica laughed. "She wouldn't stop raving about it."

"I'm glad she was satisfied."

"Satisfied? She's positively euphoric. You must've blown her mind."

Paul nodded, remembering.

"We were both really into it."

Jessica chuckled again, knowingly.

"So," she asked wryly, "did she pony up?"

"Yep. Last night. 200 shares of Apple stock."

"Two hundred? That's even more than she bid."

Paul shrugged again. 



"Like I said," he shrugged again, "she was pretty satisfied."

"That may've been was the endorphins talkin'," she smiled. "Good idea having her donate after your evening together."

Paul nodded.

"How's it goin' with Bri, by the way? Are we set for next weekend?"

Jessica sighed.

"Not yet. I'm having a tough time getting a hold of her. I don't know what's going on. I think she's around today so I'll go by her place. See if I can catch her."

"We need to get her scheduled for next weekend at the latest. Before Jas gets home."

"I'm doing my best."

"I know. And I appreciate it, Jessica."

"I know you do," she smiled, warmly.

"I'm already thinking about my session with Bri. I've got something kinda different in mind for her."

"Yeah? Like what, exactly?"

"Well, you know Bri. She loves her orgasms."

"Oh, yeah. And not just one. Multiple."

"And, preferably, multiple of the screaming variety."

"Or fainting."

"That too. The thing is, she really likes it when I change things up. When I find new ways to get her off. So, I've been doing some research online."

"Yeah? Whaddya find?" ]

"I found a pretty... shall we say... exotic way of doing it. It's supposed to result in incredibly intense orgasms."

"Oh my," Jessica said, fanning herself. "Lucky girl."

"I was thinking I'd install it in the gazebo this afternoon."

"Install it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna have to drill into one of the roof beams. I hope that's okay."

"And what do you do with this... installed thing?"

"Well," he said, smiling, "why don't you come by this afternoon and we can test it out."

Jessica gulped.

"Test it out?"

"Yeah. I wanna see just how intense the orgasms are."

Her body gave a little shudder.

"Oh, well," she gasped, "if you insist."

After breakfast, while Paul worked in the gazebo installing his new purchase, Jessica walked next door to Bri's house.

She stood at the front door, rang the doorbell, and knocked a few times for good measure.

A moment later, the door opened. It was Bri, looking a bit disheveled.

"Hi Bri," Jessica said. "Is this a good time?"

"Hi, Jess," she said, breathlessly. "Yeah, sure."

She started to let Jessica inside, then hesitated.

"Actually, do you mind if we walk and talk? I'll grab my shoes."

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped on some trainers and closed the door behind her.

"Everything okay?" Jessica asked, as they walked along the stone walkway.

"I'm just dealing with a lot of stuff right now."

Jessica nodded, walking in silence to let Bri collect herself.

"Are you okay, Bri? You seem a little out of sorts."

"It's been a nightmare," Bri said, shaking her head.

"What's going on?"

"It's Raj. He's gone off the deep end. He wants a divorce."

"Again?"

"Yeah, but this time he's serious. He's hired a lawyer. A real shark."

"Oh dear. Have you got a lawyer?"

"I have my usual guy, but I'm thinking about getting a divorce expert."

"Probably a good idea. I'd do that sooner than later."

Bri's eyes darted about, nervously.

"Raj is already talking about how we'll split up the assets. He wants to sell the beach house."

"Why, for heaven's sake?"

"He says it'll be cleaner than way. Though we'd probably take a loss. I think it's because he knows how much I love it."

"Asshole. Does he know about Paul?"

"No, I don't think so."

"That's good."

"What'd you wanna see me about?"

"It's about Paul, actually. He's decided he's going to shut down his handy man business."

Bri stopped in her tracks.

"What?"

"He's retiring," Jessica said, wryly.

"Why?"

"He's met someone."

Bri bent over at the waist, her hands on her knees.

"Noooo!" she cried. "Why me? Everyone's leaving me!"

"It's not just you. He's saying goodbye to all his clients."

"It was the one silver lining in getting divorced. At least I could still fuck Paul!"

Her eyes flashed with a mix of pain and anger.

"He's giving his best clients a chance for one last hurrah."

Bri looked at her, scoffing.

"What, like a farewell tour?"

"Something like that. He wanted me to tell you. So you could book a slot."

"Book a slot? What is he, a Michelin star restaurant?"

"He doesn't have a lot of time. He wants to close down his business by the end of the month."

"Oh, and he's managing to squeeze me in?" she asked, sarcastically. "After all I've given him?"

Jessica took a breath.

"Paul says he really wants to see you and he's grateful for everything you've done. He's creating a custom experience just for you."

She thought about this for a moment.

"A custom experience?"

"Apparently it's something he's never done with anyone before. I don't know all the particulars."

Bri looked around, thinking.

"God knows I could use a good fuck," she muttered.

"Paul said he wanted to spend an entire afternoon with you. Giving you the greatest orgasms of your life."

Bri blinked a couple of times.

"He said that?"

Jessica nodded.

"He's working on a bespoke experience just for you. Designed to make you cum harder than you've ever cum before."

Bri gasped, with her hand to her mouth.

"When?" she asked, breathlessly,

"Next weekend. 2-8pm. Saturday or Sunday. Whatever works for you."

"Saturday," Bri said, with a dazed look in her eyes. "Saturday works best."

"I'll let him know. There'll be a donation, of course."

"Donation?" she asked, puzzled.

"To Paul's college fund. Meta stock. As per usual."

"On top of all the shares I've already given him? Jesus, Jessica. What if I decide to tip off the IRS about his little under the table payments, huh?"

Jessica took a breath.

"Bri," she said calmly, "receiving stock as a gift isn't considered a taxable event. It will be when he decides to sell the stock. You, on the other hand, do have an obligation to pay gift tax. So, I'd be careful about contacting the IRS since you'll be informing on yourself."

Bri held her in an icy stare. Jessica patted her on the shoulder.

"C'mon, Bri. Paul's planning something special for you. A custom experience."

Bri thought for a moment.

"And what's the going rate for... a custom experience these days?"

"That's totally up to you. Whatever you think it's worth. Unless, of course, you want to pass. That's entirely your choice."

"No," she said, quickly. "I don't want to pass."

"OK, why don't come up with a number, text it to me, and I'll pass it on to Paul."

"OK, let me think about it."

Jessica nodded.

It was just after 7pm, when Jasmine arrived at the Gare Saint-Lazare in central Paris, the dusk was settling on the city like a warm blanket.

She was meeting Pierre for dinner. He said he wanted to talk with her about the dinner party he was planning the following weekend. He was inviting a some of his film friends over so Jasmine could meet them.

She grabbed a cab at the station and gave the driver Pierre's address. Normally, she'd walk. It was about an hour away by foot and walking in Paris was one of her favorite things to do.

But she told Pierre she'd meet him at his place at 7:30pm and she didn't want to be late.

So, she sat in the back of the cab as it hurtled past the Place de La Concorde towards the Rive Gauche.

They crossed the Seine at the Pont de La Concorde. The National Assembly and the Musée D'Orsay glowed in the evening light.

Driving through Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the streets were bustling with people. It was Saturday night and there was an extra energy in this neighborhood already known for its vibrancy.

They passed luxury shops and boutiques. Armani. Gucci. Alexandra Sojfer. Art galleries and bookshops. The legendary cafés. Les Deux Magots. Café de Flore.

The cab stopped in front of a large luxury apartment building dating back to the 1800s. She paid the fare and got out, gazing up at the limestone edifice.

She approached the doorman, her bag on her shoulder, and gave him Pierre's name. The doorman gave her a look like she wasn't the first young woman to show up asking for him.

She shrugged it off and waited in the lobby for him.

She wondered what the next 12 hours would be like. On the phone, Pierre was in peak form. Charming. Larger than life. Flirtatious.

He'd originally talked about her staying overnight at his friend's apartment. He was out of town on vacation. But when that fell through at the last minute, it was decided she'd stay at Pierre's apartment instead.

He insisted it was no problem. He had plenty of room. Besides, his wife would be at their beach house for the month.

Jasmine felt a wave of apprehension, like she was about to have an intense experience. One way or another.

When she told Paul about the new arrangement, he wasn't thrilled about it. He'd seen Pierre in action on more than one occasion.

Images of Pierre leering at Jasmine flashed through his mind. At dinner. By the pool. In the hot tub.

But Jasmine assured him she'd be fine. She'd handled Pierre's advances before. She could take care of herself.

A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened and there he was. As handsome and ebullient as ever.

"Jasmine!" he said with a broad smile. "Welcome! It's wonderful to see you!"

He gave her a kiss on both cheeks and took her bag to carry.

"I thought we'd get you settled upstairs and then take a walk around the neighborhood before dinner. If that sounds agreeable?"

"Sounds great."

He took her to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. He was dressed in a sport coat with a pocket square.

As they stepped inside the tiny elevator, Jasmine wondered if she'd underdressed. She was in slacks with a crisp cotton blouse that showed off just a bit of her décolletage.

"You look stunning," Pierre said, suavely. "Like you stepped out of a fashion magazine."

"Thanks. You look like a model yourself. You modeled, right?"

"My sister and I modeled for a few years. We were rank amateurs compared to mother."

"Big-time model, was she?"

"Oh yes. On all the magazine covers. Vogue. Elle."

He was talking loudly, animatedly. She wondered if he'd been drinking.

He led her to the end of a long hallway where he unlocked the door.

Inside was a large living room with high ceilings and windows on two sides looking out on Boulevard Saint Germain. Haussmannian buildings, with their limestone facades and wrought iron balconies, glowed in the afternoon sun.

"Wow, this is beautiful," Jasmine said.

"Come, I'll show you your room."

He led her down a hallway to a bedroom with large arched windows, a canopied bed, a bureau, and vanity.

"This was my sister's room. She was a year younger than me yet she got the room with the best view. I never understood that logic."

"It's lovely."

"Feel free to unpack, hang up your clothes, make yourself at home. The bathroom is down the hall. I'll show you."

She put her bag on the bed and followed him down the hall. The bathroom was lined with vintage tile and a tub with clawed feet.

"That was my bedroom as a boy," he said, pointing to another bedroom across the hall. "Now, I use it as an office."

"And where's your bedroom now?" she asked.

"On the other side of the apartment. My mother's old room. The kids were on this side and she was on the other. Separation of church and state. It made it a lot more fun."

"Why's that?"

"We had a lot more freedom! Out of sight, out of mind!"

"Plus, she'd be off doing her modeling shoots, right? Didn't you say you and your sister were often here alone?"

"Absolutely. We had the run of the place. Running around in our underwear. In and out of each other's rooms. When the cat's away..."

Jasmine just nodded, making mental notes.

Part of the reason she agreed to stay at Pierre's apartment was she wanted to do some research.

For the past couple of months, she'd been working on a short story based on the adolescent years of Pierre and his sister Nicole.

While on vacation in Big Sur, Pierre had a bit too much to drink and let slip that he and his sister were more than just 'close'. He'd sneak into he room at night and share her bed.

Jasmine suspected this was what fueled his obsession with young women.

After they got back from Big Sur, Jasmine reached out to Pierre's sister, Nicole, who lived in San Francisco and worked as a book editor. She told Pierre it was to 'talk about writing' but Jasmine wanted to learn more about those early years. From Nicole's perspective.

They talked frankly for several hours.

Now, Jasmine wanted to see first-hand what the apartment they grew up in actually looked like. So she could write a convincing and detailed account.

"Come, I'll give you the rest of the tour."

She followed him back out to the living room, through the kitchen, and to the main bedroom.

"This was my mother's bedroom. After my father moved out, we called it 'the Gare Du Nord.'"

She figured that was the way the French describe a very busy place. Like 'Grand Central Station'.

"Un endroit très fréquenté?" she asked.

"Oui, exactement," he said. "I keep forgetting you're fluent in French. Do you prefer we speak in English or French?"

She shrugged.

"English, I guess. I bet your English better than my French."

"Not at all," he said, gallantly. "You speak superbly in both languages."

Pierre looked at his watch and said they'd better start walking to the restaurant. He'd made an 8pm reservation at Le Jardin Saint Germain a few blocks away.

Walking along the Boulevard St German, Pierre played the role of tour guide.

"The 6th is known for its charm, rich history, and vibrant culture. It's a Mecca for expats."

"A lot of writers have lived and worked here over the years, no?" Jasmine asked, encouraging him.

"Yes, of course. Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir used to hang out right there."

He pointed to Les Deux Magots, a corner café brimming with people.

"Hemingway wrote here. Camus. Beckett. Ionesco. And Colette, of course. You have read Colette, yes?"

"No, I never have."

"Oh, you must! The greatest woman novelist in France. She lived and worked right here, in this neighborhood. She explored themes of female sexuality and independence."

"I know she wrote Gigi."

"Yes, and the Claudine Series. The Tendrils of the Vine. The Vagabond. Cheri. The Pure and the Impure was probably her best. Certainly the most autobiographical. It begins in an opium den and then proceeds from one sexual encounter to another. It's considered one of modern literature's finest explorations of the varieties of sexual experience. Needless to say, her work -- and her life -- were quite scandalous."

"Why scandalous?" she asked, wryly. "Did she dare to wear pants in public?"

He gave her a look.

"Her novel Cheri was about a love affair between a young man and a much older woman. Which she was when she wrote it. Then, it turned out that, while she was writing it, she was fucking her 16-year-old stepson."

Jasmine looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"That is rather scandalous."

"What?" he asked. "You don't approve of incestuous love affairs? Or is it the extreme age difference that gives you pause?"

It felt like a trick question.

"It's not a question of my approval. Sometimes the heart, or human desire, doesn't give a shit about societal rules."

He smiled.

"I couldn't agree more."

He took her to a little restaurant a few blocks away near the Sorbonne. Le Jardin Saint-Germain-des-Prés was a well appointed restaurant with exposed wooden beams, a stone wall on one side. and windows facing an interior courtyard on the other.

The server, who obviously knew Pierre, calling him by name, provided him with updates to the menu.

Pierre recommended the duck confit which they both ordered. He selected a bottle of Pinot Noir from Burgundy because, as he put it, "the acidity cuts through the duck's richness, while the smooth tannins complement its savory and earthy flavors."

Over dinner, Pierre gave Jasmine a run-down of the people he was planning to invite to the dinner in her honor. They were all colleagues and acquaintances from the film business.

Bertrand was a working assistant director with some impressive indie credits. He was preparing to direct his first film which he co-wrote.

Sylvie was fresh out of La Fémis, the national film school based in the Pathé Studios in Montmartre. Her student film won several awards in regional film festivals.

Léo, like Pierre, was an established film producer who worked primarily in small, independent films.

Anna was an aspiring writer who went from project to project doing whatever was needed. Her goal was to support her writing while learning as much as she could about the business. Her last gig was as a script supervisor.

Antoine was an actor. He'd played a lot of supporting roles in the past and had just wrapped his first starring role. The film was due to be released in the fall.

The more Jasmine heard about the people who'd be attending the dinner party, the more excited she became.

These weren't old timers whose best days were behind them. These were young people like herself, striving to build a career in a notoriously competitive industry.

She felt like she'd be meeting people she could relate to. Comrades-in-arms.

Pierre insisted they get dessert. The pastry chef there was superb. And an after dinner drink, of course.

By the time they were walking home, Jasmine was feeling pretty light-headed.

Pierre was walking next to her, holding forth.

"There's an old cliché about how to make it in the movie business. 'It's not what you know, it's who you know.' More accurately, to my mind anyway, it's who you know and what you know. The quality of your work has to be there, especially as a writer, but contacts can help open the doors to getting your writing read."

"Yeah, I've heard that."

"And that's where I can help. Don't underestimate the value of a good mentor. The film business is extremely complex. You'll need guidance from an older, experienced professional to have any chance at success."

"An older and experienced professional. Such as yourself?"

"I'd be more than happy to do that for you, Jasmine."

"Well... I appreciate it, Pierre."

"My pleasure."

She glanced over at him. He was looking at her, smiling.

When they got back to the apartment, Pierre insisted on having a brandy before bed.

He handed her a glass, then went to the wall switch to turn down the lights.

"I want you to see Paris at night, in all her glory. La ville lumière. As a film person, you'll appreciate the visual."

He sat on the couch next to her, looking out at the city.

"The Parisian perspective. An appreciation for beauty. A focus on enjoying life's pleasures. Art and food and wine. And sex of course."

He leaned closer to her, as if to kiss her.

She stood up.

"The view is really amazing," she said, moving to the window. "You know, Pierre. I was curious about something you told me in Big Sur."

"And what is that, pray tell?"

"Well, you said your mother had parties here. With famous people. Models. Actors. Artists."

"That's right. Her parties were legend."

"And you and your sister used to spy on the goings-on?"

"We'd stand right over there," he said, pointing to the bedroom hallway. "There were two big potted plants there and we'd hide behind them."

"You'd hide behind the plants?"

"We were just kids. Fascinated by the beautiful people."

Jasmine nodded.

"And you said, one night, you took your sister out on the balcony to look into your mother's bedroom."

"Oh, yes. That was quite a night."

"How did you do that, exactly?"

"There's a door to the balcony in my sister's room. The one you're staying in. Once you're on the balcony, you can follow it around the corner, past the living room, all the way to my mother's room."

"Oh, I see. So you went outside the building all the way to your mother's room. Very clever."

Pierre smiled and leaned forward. He was getting into it.

"Actually, it was even cleverer than that. Before the party started, I snuck into my mother's bedroom and opened the curtains ever so slightly. You should hardly even tell they were open. Then, after the guests left, and my mother had taken one of her young 'friends' into her bedroom, we simply snuck out on the balcony, went to her window, and peeked inside."

"You set it all up ahead of time," Jasmine said, sounding impressed.

"I was into spy novels as a teenager so it came quite naturally."

"And what did you see?"

"Oh, we saw everything. My sister and me. We watched the whole thing. From start to finish."

"I'd love to hear that story," she said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "From the beginning."

Paul was kneeling in the gazebo, making adjustments to a harness that hung down from a wooden beam in the ceiling.

"And what exactly do you do with this thing?" Jessica asked, her hands on her hips.

He stood up, studying his handiwork with a cocked head.

"It's a sensory deprivation device," Paul explained. "It's marketed as a meditation aid but it can be used for a variety of purposes."

Jessica looked at it, quizzically.

"And you're... suspended in it?"

"That's right. It's adjustable so you can be on your stomach, on your back, upright. It frees you from the earth so you can concentrate on the sensations in your body. It's supposed to be super comfortable."

"And what are these for?" she asked, pointing to some stirrups.

"Those are to put your feet in. The whole idea is to displace your body weight so you feel like your floating."

She nodded, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, I like the idea of floating."

"And the spinner at the top allows for 360-degree rotation. I added a carabiner so we can put it up and take it down easily."

"You think of everything."

"Just common sense stuff," he shrugged. "I think I got the height right."

The harness was hanging in the middle of the floor about three feet off the ground.

"Do you want to give it a try?" he asked, turning to her.

"Me? Sure, I'll be the guinea pig. What do I do?"

"Well, first," he said, "we have to open this."

He went to the Murphy Bed and opened it. The harness hung directly over the center of the bed, just above the blanket.

A light went on in Jessica's eyes as she realized how the contraption could be used.

"And I recommend you get naked first," he smiled.

She gulped, and started taking off her clothes.

"A variety of purposes, indeed," she muttered.

Once she was naked, he helped get her into the harness. He adjusted the straps until she was floating above the bed.

"How's that feel?" Paul asked. "Is that comfortable?"

Jessica was laying back, completely naked, with her legs spread.

"It's very comfortable. I feel rather... exposed."

"In a good way?"

"Well, yeah. As long as no one comes in. In a great way."

Paul looked at her, suspended a foot or so above the bed.

"I wonder if this would be a good position for..."

He got on his back and scooched underneath her, so his face was right next to her pussy.

"Oh yeah, this is perfect."

He stuck out his tongue and softly licked her pussy.

"Oh," she gasped, "that feels good!"

He pulled a bolster under his head, lay back, and began licking her in earnest. Slowly, from the bottom all the way to the top.

He was using a broad tongue, slowly sliding over her entire pussy.

"This makes it so effortless," he said, finally. "I could do this all day."

"So could I," Jessica gasped.

Pierre was in full Pierre mode.

He was describing that fateful night years ago. The night when he and his sister first had sex.

Jasmine had made that night the centerpiece of her short story. She'd gotten details from his sister, Nicole. Now, she wanted to hear him tell it.

It was after one of his mother's parties, Pierre explained. For the beautiful people of Paris' fashion and film worlds.

The attendees were actors, models, and artists, each more beautiful than the next. They were mostly young, in their 20's and 30's, and in the prime of their lives.

His mother, Veronique, was older, in her 40s, but still exquisitely beautiful. Still appearing on the covers of magazines.

When the party was over, and their mother thought Pierre and Nicole were fast asleep, she took one of her 'friends' into her bedroom. An up-and-coming actor.

The hottest man at the party.

Pierre waited until the coast was clear. Then, he snuck down the hallway to his sister's bedroom. He shook her awake and told her to follow him.

He led her outside onto the balcony.

In their pajamas, they crept in the cool night air past the living room towards their mother's bedroom. Through a crack in the curtains, they could see their mother. With her friend.

Her bed was just a few feet from the window. It was dark on the balcony so he and his sister couldn't be seen. But they could see everything going on inside.

Their mother was dancing at the foot of the bed. A slow, sensuous dance while the actor lay on the bed, totally nude, leaning against the headboard. She was doing a strip tease, taking off one piece of clothing after another, keeping her catlike eyes fixed on his.

He watched her with hungry eyes, his cock getting longer and longer.

When she was finally naked, she climbed on the bed on her hands and knees. Her body looked incredible, her ass sticking up in the air as she crawled to him. Pierre could hardly breathe.

"What was going through your mind at that moment?" Jasmine asked.

"I was in shock. I couldn't believe what I was seeing."

"Did you or your sister say or do anything?" Jasmine asked.

"No, we just watched. In silence. I remember, I was right behind her, my head just above hers, peering through the gap in the curtains. My body was pressed against hers. I was so hard."

The two siblings watched their mother lick her way up his legs all the way to his cock. His big, hard cock. She took it into her mouth, sucking it ravenously.

They couldn't believe how she was sucking him. With total abandon. Rubbing her face on his rock hard cock. Swallowing him deep into her throat.

She straddled him, moving closer to him. She arched her back and brushed her breasts over his face, feeding her nipples to him.

Then she reached back and stood his cock up and lowered herself onto him.

And then they fucked.

They watched her, raising and lowering herself on his massive pole, undulating her body. Before long, she was crying out, her body shaking with desire.

They watched her cum. Again and again.

"How did that make you feel?" Jasmine asked. "To see your mother like that?"

Pierre was breathing hard.

"I could hardly breathe. My heart was pounding through my chest. I remember thinking, I want to be in his place. I want to be the one making my mother cum. Making her scream."

"And did your sister know you were aroused? Could she feel how hard you were?"

"Yes, we were both in our pajamas. And I was pressed up against her. There was hardly anything between us. Just the thinnest fabric. And my cock was pressed against her ass. Her beautiful ass. It felt so good."

"Did you slip your cock into her?" Jasmine whispered. "Right there on the balcony?"

"No," Pierre said, shaking his head. "That came later. Later that night."

Paul was on his back, rocking his head back and forth, while his tongue caressed Jessica's now dripping pussy.

"Try closing your eyes," he suggested. "See if you can get in a Zen state."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Clearing her mind.

All she could feel was his talented tongue. Softly licking her pussy. Sending electricity throughout her body.

"Oh yeah, this is gonna be great," he muttered.

He slowly slid his tongue in and out of her, penetrating her, then moved up to caress her clit.

"That's so good," she moaned. "What you're doing. So good."

He was watching her face, gauging her every reaction, every change in expression.

Her breath was getting more and more ragged and her body was twitching.

Her moans were getting louder now.

He kept caressing her with his tongue, penetrating and tickling her. Keeping it varied. Finding what she enjoyed, and then giving it to her.

Because she was suspended in the harness, she had virtually no control. It was almost like she was tied up. At his mercy.

And she was getting increasingly close.

"Just let yourself go," he whispered. "This is all about you. Your pleasure. Just relax and ride the sensations."

Her body was shaking now, her back arching. Her eyes were still closed and she was moaning loudly.

He kept at it, steadily licking her, finding the caresses she loved most.

He brought her to orgasm not once. Not twice. But three times. Sweet, transcendent orgasms.

The sounds she was making seemed to come from a place deep inside her. In the very core of her being.

It was one of the most enjoyable sexual experiences of her entire life.

And Paul was enjoying every minute of it too.

Quite simply, he loved making Jessica cum.

He loved giving her pleasure. Satisfying her. Making her feel totally fulfilled.

She'd been so good to him. From the first day he met her. So kind. So giving. She was just a beautiful, wonderful human being.

He felt like he could talk to her about anything. Anything at all. And she'd be there for him. Unconditionally.

No wonder Jasmine is the way she is, he thought. No wonder I love her so much.

Look who raised her.

Jasmine was sitting on the arm of the couch, questioning Pierre.

"So, you didn't fuck on the balcony. What happened exactly?"

"We both went back to our rooms. We were in shock, I think. Besides, she was...

reluctant. You see, she was still a virgin. And very Catholic. She believed incest was a sin."

"But the dye had been cast, hadn't it? Something had changed between you and your sister."

"Yes, a Rubicon had been passed. And our relationship was forever changed."

"Well," Jessica said, standing. "That's quite a story. I'll have to get the rest of it sometime. It's getting late and I need to get some sleep."

Jasmine noticed Pierre wasn't getting up to say goodnight. That seemed unusual for a man who liked to show the common courtesies.

Then, she noticed the bulge in his trousers. He had a massive hard-on.

It seemed the little trip down memory lane inadvertently aroused Pierre.

"But the best part of the story is yet to come," he said, a bit out of breath. "Later that night, I snuck into her room. We went to bed together."

"Well, that'll have to wait for another time. I've got to catch the train back to Deauville in the morning."

"But... but..."

"Good night, Pierre."

Jasmine walked from the living room to her bedroom with her heart pounding. She closed her bedroom door and locked it behind her.

She stood at the vanity trying to catch her breath.

She'd heard much of that story before, but from his sister's point of view. How they spied on their mother. How she lay in bed afterwards, fantasizing about being ravaged in the same way. How, later that night, Pierre snuck into her room carrying a candle. And slipped into her bed.

Jasmine wasn't into incest fantasies. Her sexual tastes were more conventional than that.

Yet, Pierre's story of pure lust, between models and actors and beautiful people, with a bit of voyeurism thrown in, had gotten under her skin.

Her heart was beating fast.

Pierre looked like he was going to burst right through his trousers. His hard-on was humongous.

It was kind of flattering to have this debonair older man lusting after her. He could have just about any woman he wanted. And he wanted her.

It was like when she and Paul were in Big Sur, and they made friends with Pierre and his 'companion' Sophia, an Italian actress and complete sexpot.

The four of them ended up in the same hot tub together, totally naked.

They eventually made love with their partners in full view of the other couple.

And while she was sitting in Paul's lap, riding him, Jasmine noticed Pierre was staring at her. He was staring at her naked body while he was fucking Sophia. He looked like he was imagining he was fucking her, not his movie star girlfriend.

She also saw how he fucked her. With his big, fat cock. He was kind of rough with her. Rougher than Paul, who was more of a gentle lover.

She found herself wondering what'd it be like to have this older, experienced lover having his way with her. Taking her. Ramming his big cock into her little pussy.

But she also didn't want to be just another one of Pierre's conquests. Sophia had told her about his obsession with young women. How he compulsively went after 18-year-olds.

She remembered the look the doorman gave her. Like she was one of a long line of young women beating a trail to his door.

At that moment, she heard a knock at the bedroom door.

Paul and Jessica were laying on the bed, his long arms wrapped around her naked body. The sling hung empty next to them.

It seemed improbable that something so inert looking could be responsible for so much pleasure.

"That's a winner," Jessica said. "Definitely a good purchase, that one."

"It got good reviews on line," Paul said, realizing immediately how ridiculous that sounded. "I was looking for something new and different for Bri. She likes novelty."

"So you said. By the way, I talked to Bri and she wants to reserve Saturday afternoon with you."

"Oh, good."

"Yeah. Good and bad. She's not in a great place. Emotionally."

"Really? What's going on?"

"She and her husband are splitting up."

"Again?"

"This time it sounds like it's really happening. He's got a lawyer."

Paul nodded.

"How's she doing?"

"She's pretty upset. I noticed she's got a lot of... anti-male feelings. You better be careful."

"Got it."

"When I mentioned the donation to your college fund, she got kind of resentful."

"Yikes. Maybe I shouldn't charge her anything."

"Well, you're not charging her anything. It's all voluntary, which keeps it legal. Just... don't mention the money stuff and we'll see what she does."

"Right."

"And be extra discreet. Divorces can get ugly and we don't want her husband to find out about you and Bri."

"Definitely."

He breathed a deep sigh.

"Why do so many marriages suck? Maddie's, yours, Bri's, Emily's. Nobody's marriage lasts."

"How about your parents? They're still together, aren't they?"

Paul chuckled.

"Yeah, but it's not an example of a good marriage though. They should have gotten a divorce."

She looked at him, lovingly.

"I'm sorry you don't have a good relationship with them," she said, touching his face.

"It is what it is," he shrugged.

"When you get married," Jessica smiled, "I'm sure you'll make your wife the happiest woman in the world."

He pulled her close, giving her a loving squeeze.

"I know it's a long ways off," he said, "but if that woman, by chance, turns out to be Jasmine... I couldn't ask for a better mother-in-law than you."

"Oh Paul," she smiled, "that's so sweet."

"If it ever happens, if Jas and I get married someday, would you let me call you mom? Would that be alright?"

"Of course, darling," she said, her eyes misting. "I'd love that."

They lay in each other's arms, looking out at the ocean.

"When Jasmine gets back," she said, "you and I can't do this anymore."

He looked over at her.

"I know. That's gonna be hard."

"For me, too."

"And I'm going to have to tell her about you and me. She's gotta hear it from me."

Jessica nodded.

"That's gonna be even harder."

She wrapped herself around his muscular body, holding him close.

"Jasmine?"

Pierre's voice was coming from the other side of her bedroom door.

"I'm going to sleep, Pierre."

"I know you are," he said, "I just wanted to bring you some water. In case you get thirsty."

She sighed.

"Just leave it outside the door."

"Don't you want me to bring it in to you? I could tuck you in."

"No, thanks. I'm already tucked in."

"Are you sure? It'll just take a second."

"Pierre, I'm really tired and I want to go to sleep. Good night."

There was a pause.

"OK, if that's what you want. Well... goodnight, Jasmine."

She heard the sound of his footsteps, walking away.

She lay in bed, thinking about everything she'd learned. Pierre's recounting of how he spied on his mother and seduced his little sister.

The way he'd gotten himself all worked up while telling Jasmine the story.

She thought about the morality of the situation. How he leveraged his power as an older brother and took advantage of his a young, naive woman. How he seduced her.

She thought about the manipulation involved. Plying her with compliments. Playing to her insecurities. Gaslighting her.

His sister had been preyed on. Plain and simple.

Then, she thought about the way Pierre had treated her. Jasmine. Was it all that different?

Complimenting her on her appearance.

Flattering her about her writing, her command of the language.

Promising to help her with her career.

Was he grooming her? Like he did his sister?

She rolled over on her side, feeling depressed. At least she did some research for her story.

She realized that, in her haste to lock herself in the bedroom, she hadn't used the bathroom. Hadn't brushed her teeth or washed her face. Hadn't peed.

She lifted her head to see if she could hear anything from outside.

It was quiet. Sounds like Pierre finally gave up and went to bed.

She swung her legs out of bed and grabbed her phone which was charging on the nightstand.

She turned on the flashlight and went to her bag, pulling out her toiletry kit.

She tip-toed to the door, put her ear next to the crack, and listened. It was still quiet.

She slowly unlocked the door, as quietly as possible, and eased the door open.

The hallway was dark.

She slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind her.

She tip-toed down the hallway to the bathroom and slipped inside.

She locked the door and took a deep breath.

After washing up, she made her way back to her room and locked the door.

She turned toward the bed and heard a low voice.

"I want to tell you the rest of my story."

Pierre was laying on her bed.

She let out a shriek.

"Jesus, Pierre!" she cried. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"So sorry, my dear. But I felt an overwhelming urge to relate the other half of my story."

He was wearing a silk robe, looking at her with appraising eyes.

She was wearing one of Paul's t-shirts, her breasts pressing against the cotton fabric.

She didn't like the way he was looking at her bare legs. So she turned off her flashlight, casting the room in total darkness.

"That's okay," he said. "I brought a candle."

He flicked his lighter and lit the candle on the nightstand next to him.

"You timed that perfectly," she said, sardonically. "Sneaking in my room when I was washing up."

"Oh, is that where you were? I thought perhaps you were looking for my bedroom."

"Uh, no."

"Aren't you going to get in bed? So I can finish my story?"

Jasmine felt her sympathetic nervous system kick in. Increased heart rate. Faster breathing. Heightened alertness.  

Fight or flight.

"I don't really have the energy for this," she said. "I'm bone tired."

"What are you worried about? I'll be doing most of the talking. All you have to do is lie down and listen. Unless you want to act out the story with me."

This was what she was afraid of. He was hell bent to recreate the first time with his little sister.

All she could think of was how to string him along.

"You mean, like a role play?"

"Exactly. I came in her room that night, after watching our mother and that actor, because I was so turned on I just had to. And I knew she was turned on too."

"It that was quite a scene you'd witnessed."

"Oh yes. It was one of the most stimulating experiences I'd ever had. Just talking about it, remembering it, arouses me. Did it arouse you?"

Jessica was making calculations in her head. I'm closer to the bedroom door than he is. If I can get to the apartment door, I could try to get to the elevator. Or, bang on the neighbors' doors.

"Hmmm? Did you feel your little heart pitter pat when I told you my story? Did you feel yourself getting wet?"

Jasmine's mouth suddenly felt dry.

"It was... hot," was all she could manage.

"I thought you were feeling it," he smiled. "A man with my experience can detect these things."

He patted the bed next to him.

"Come lie next to me. The way she did all those years ago. I brought a candle into her room that night too. And the biggest hard-on of my life."

Jasmine tentatively got on the bed next to him.

"Under the covers."

She slipped her bare legs between the sheets.

"Good. She was reticent too. Too much church propaganda about mortal sin, I suspect."

"She didn't believe in sex outside of marriage?"

"No, she didn't believe in sex with her brother," he smiled. "But when she saw the size of my hard-on, she started to change her mind."

"Did you flash her?"

"No, no. It was quite innocent. We just talked at first. About what excited us most about what we'd seen. What we'd most like to do given the chance."

"And what did you say you wanted to do?"

"I wanted to take her virginity. I wanted to be her first. Her one and only."

Jasmine just looked at him.

"Why? I don't get it. What's the big deal about fucking a virgin?"

"You mean, introducing a woman to the wonderful world of sex?"

"Wouldn't in be better to make love to a woman who's experienced? Who knew how to really please a man?"

Pierre shook his head.

"I don't want a woman who's fucked every man under the sun. If she's only fucked me, then I'm the best lover she's ever had. The one who lasted the longest. The one with the biggest cock. Virginity takes all the pressure off."

And that's when the light bulb went on for Jasmine.

It stems from insecurity.

If the woman has no frame of reference, no one to compare him to, then he'll be the greatest lover she ever had. Full stop.

"You know what, Pierre?" Jasmine said, her voice conspiratorial. "I think we should do this right."

"What should we do?"

"You want to recreate that night, right? The night when you first fucked her sister's pussy. When you took her precious virginity. You want her... me... to take your cock into my tight, wet pussy and experience sex for the very first time."

"Yes," he gasped, "that's exactly what I want."

"And I can do that. I can pretend I'm a virgin. Imagining you're the first man ever to be inside me. Making me cum for the very first time. And, guess what? I can use Pompoir to make my pussy feel extra tight. Like you're the one who's popping my cherry."

"Oh my God! You know Pompoir?"

"Yes, and I've gotten really good at it too. Especially The Sucker. You know The Sucker?"

"I love The Sucker!"

"But we need more room. I wanna go completely crazy and we need a big bed for that. This bed's too small. Is the one in your room bigger?"

"It's a King!" he smiled.

A big smile spread across her face.

"Perfect. Get ready to take my virginity!"

His eyes got big.

"C'mon Pierre! Take me to your bed and teach me how to fuck! Introduce me to the wonderful world of sex!"

He jumped out of bed, threw on his robe, grabbed Jasmine by the wrist, and headed out of the bedroom.

Suddenly, she yanked her wrist away, gave him a push, slammed the door, and locked it.

"À demain, dickhead!" she exclaimed.

She said 'à demain' or 'see ya tomorrow' loud enough for him to hear. The 'dickhead' part she muttered to herself.

She wished she could have said something straight to his face. Told him off with some witticism or biting comment.

But all she could think about was getting away from him. Keeping herself safe.

It was Saturday afternoon and Paul was setting up for his afternoon rendezvous with Bri.

He was in the gazebo putting fresh sheets on the massage table.

Jessica was sitting on the bed, working her phone.

"It might be a good idea for me not to be here when Bri arrives," Jessica said.

"Is she still pissed?" Paul asked.

"More at me than you. She thinks I'm squeezing her. She might be nervous about money, with her impending divorce and everything."

"I could just do this last session as a freebie," Paul shrugged. "The important thing to me is that it's our last session. I don't really care about the money."

"Well, don't tell her that," she chuckled. "No, just keep it business-like and it'll be alright. She's just a little touchy, that's all."

"Oh boy."

Paul had dealt with Bri's moody side before. She flipped out when he showed up at her house on Thanksgiving Day. He just wanted to say hello, but she had family over and she went ballistic on him.

His feelings were bruised and he considered dropping her as a client.

She apologized later, but he learned to watch out for her moods.

Paul wasn't allowed to call or text Bri. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was a surveillance freak and she was worried he might be monitoring her.

So, he asked Jessica to send her a series of texts in the hours leading up to their rendezvous.

Come to my place at 3pm - a BIG surprise awaits

P's been fasting so be prepared for an humungous appetite

Get ready to put a big O in OMG!

When Bri arrived at 3pm, she was practically trembling with anticipation.

She and her husband hadn't had sex in forever and she was horny as hell.

Paul had decided to shorten the time with Bri to just four hours. She didn't know he'd spent six hours with Emily and even more time with Jessica.

She didn't even know they were clients.

With Jessica laying low, Paul met Bri at the front door.

"Bri," he said with a husky voice. "Come in."

As soon as she was inside, he pressed her against the front door, kissing her, and pulling off her jacket.

"Oh," she gasped, dropping her coat on the floor.

This is how she liked it. Being the object of unbridled lust.

In fact, Paul was horny. He'd been abstaining in the days leading up to this.

He kissed her deeply, his hand slipping under her silk blouse.

"Paul, you're making me wet!"

"Good," he grunted, "cause you're making me hard."

He took her by the wrist and led her into the living room.

"Wanna drink? Before we do it?"

She was gasping. She liked this version of Paul. Hot to trot.

"Yeah," she said, breathily. "Just to relax me."

He looked at her, all fidgety and breathless. He had something else in mind to relax her.

"How 'bout a gin and tonic?"

"Fine."

He went to the bar and started making her drink.

"We're gonna be out in the gazebo," he said. "I've got something special planned for you. I think it's gonna blow your mind."

She gulped. 



"So I hear."

She was trying to sound casual, but he could see her squirming.

He handed her the drink.

"You ready to get crazy?" he asked, giving her a sexy look.

"Oh yeah!" she gasped. "I'm so ready!"

He looked her up and down. He believed her.

"Let's go."

Once in the gazebo, Bri got a look at the "spa". Massage table. Yoga mats. Queen-sized bed.

And some kind of hanging contraption over the bed.

"What's that, for heaven's sake?"

"You'll see," he said, mysteriously.

"C'mon," he smiled. "Let's dance."

There was some R+B playing through the speakers. He took her drink and placed it on the railing. Then, he spun her around.

"I don't think I've ever danced with you," she said. "You're good."

"This is going to be an afternoon of firsts," he said, cryptically.

She felt the tingle of anticipation throughout her body.

"Is it true you've been fasting?" she asked.

"Yeah, a sex fast," he explained. "And I've been looking forward to breaking it. With you."

He pulled her close, his chest against her breasts.

"I've been thinking about it too," she gasped.

"You know, I had a dream I was fucking you."

"You did?"

"Yeah, in a very unusual way. And I incorporated my dream into some of today's... activities."

"I can't wait," she gasped.

The afternoon sun bathed them in a golden light.

"It's pretty warm," he smiled. "Wanna lose some of these clothes?"

She kicked off her shoes, and started to take off her jacket.

He began to unbutton her blouse, revealing a black lace bra.

She started to unbutton his shirt too.

They were still swaying to the music, dancing in the afternoon light.

He tossed both their shirts onto a chair.

Then he started to take off her slacks.

She was wearing a black lace panties.

She started to untie his drawstring pants. He was wearing a flesh-colored g-string.

She knelt down to pull his pants over his feet, putting her face right at his crotch.

She rubbed her face against his cock.

"You're as fuckin' horny as I am," he chuckled.

"More," she whispered.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed, kissing her neck and shoulders. His hand felt her soaked panties.

"You may be right about that," he smiled.

He put her down on the edge of the bed and pulled off her panties. She was shaven, her pussy glistening.

She pulled down his g-string and his cock, long and thick, sprang forward.

She gasped again.

"You look extra big today," she whispered.

"I told you," he smiled, "I've been fasting."

He kissed her collar bone while his fingers unclasped her bra.

Her breasts sprung free, looking amazing in the golden light.

"Damn, I love your body."

She leaned back on her arms, looking at his muscular frame.

"I love yours too," she gasped.

He grabbed a bolster and lay it on the ground next to the bed. Then he knelt on it and slowly spread her legs.

He lowered his head and started to lick her inner thighs.

She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.

He ate her out so sweetly.

She wasn't sure how long he was licking her. She kinda lost track of time. The next thing she knew he was picking her up and carrying her to the railing overlooking the sea.

"I have a new position I wanna try. I saw it and thought 'I wanna do this with Bri in the gazebo.'"

"What is it?"

"It's called Banana Split."

"Sounds sweet," she smiled.

"Whipped cream is optional," he said, wryly.

"What do I do?"

"It's similar to what we did using the barre at your place. But with a better view."

She looked out at the ocean and it indeed looked incredible. Crystals of light from the afternoon sun reflected off the water.

He gripped her waist with both hands and lifted her.

"Now, the is where the split comes in. Just spread your legs as far as you can."

She spread her legs wide and placed her feet on the edge of the railing. She was doing the splits.

He took his cock in one hand and guided the head to her dripping wet pussy.

He slowly pushed himself inside her.

"Oh my God!" she gasped.

Slowly, he buried himself inside her, stroking her slowly, in and out.

"I think this is where the split comes in," she gasped. "You feel like you're splitting me in two!"

"It takes a little flexibility," he grunted, "but it pays off."

She arched her back, allowing him to go even deeper.

He undulated his torso, penetrating her with a steady rhythm.

She moaned and yelped with every stroke.

He kept his hands on her waist, pulling and pushing her body back and forth on his cock.

Before long, he was pumping her like a piston, burying his long cock deep inside her.

She was moaning like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned forward and took her breasts in his hands, caressing them. She looked over her shoulder and they kissed.

All the while he kept stroking her, eliciting moans that got louder by the second.

She couldn't believe how relentless he was, thrusting his long cock into her again and again.

When her cries intensified, he began pressing his pelvis into her, going on deep as he could. That made her cry out even louder.

She reached back with one hand and gripped his butt cheek. She wanted him deep.

She arched her back even more, looking back at him, moaning louder than ever. He gripped her around her neck and quickened the pace.

Her cries turned into screams and he knew she was on the verge of cumming.

He started to knead her luscious ass cheeks, alternating between long, deep strokes and quick shallow ones.

He was hitting all the right spots.

Her body started to shake and he could feel her pussy contracting. She was cumming now, hard and fast. He kept fucking her for the longest time until her screams and the roar of the ocean's waves became one.

She finally slumped over, totally spent. He gently picked her up and brought her back to the bed.

She wrapped her arms and legs around his muscular body.

"That was amazing," she said finally. "Is that what you dreamt? Fucking me that way?"

"No, I saw that on a website and I thought you'd like it. You like deep penetration so much."

"Especially with you. You go so deep."

"The dream I had was different. For that, we'll need to use this."

He touched the hanging contraption.

"I can hardly wait."

"How about I give you a massage first? Let you recover a little bit."

"You want to give me a massage before you fuck me again? This is the best day ever."

He laughed and led her to the massage table.

She was in a good mood. Having screaming orgasms will do that.

She lay on the table on her stomach. She had an amazingly fit body. Long shapely legs, a narrow waist, and a luscious ass.

He slowly ran his hands over her soft skin.

"It's been a while since I've seen you. I've missed you."

"You've been incommunicado," she said.

"I've been pretty busy. I've been looking forward to today though. I don't know many people who could handle the splits like that. You're amazing."

"That's what years of ballet will do for you, I guess."

He poured massage oil into his palm and drizzled it onto her back.

"I thought you might like that position," he said, rubbing the oil sensuously into her skin.

"Like it? That's an understatement."

He massaged down her back and over her luscious ass, kneading her cheeks.

"I've planned an afternoon with all the things you like. Oral. Doggy style. Woman on top. Acrobatic positions."

"A cornucopia of pleasures," she smiled.

He was spreading her beautiful butt cheeks, revealing her glistening pussy.

He massaged the backs of her thighs, grazing her labia with his fingers.

"Do you remember the first time we did it at your house. We did it so many different ways. Man was I impressed."

She turned her head towards him, gasping.

"I remember the first time I felt your cock inside me. Man, was I impressed."

He chuckled.

"We're definitely good together."

He was massaging her pussy in earnest now. Making her squirm.

"I remember, I'd never cum so hard before," she gasped. "Or so many times. You made me pass out."

"Not on purpose. It just sorta happened."

"It was an accident?"

"Let's call it a happy accident."

"You gonna fuck me that good today?"

"Why, you want me to make you pass out?"

"I want you to give me the greatest orgasm of my life. That's what you get paid the big bucks for, right?"

Paul could feel the conversation veering into treacherous waters.

He put his face right next to her ear, whispering.

"I'm not only gonna give you the best orgasm of your life, I'm gonna have a great time doing it. You know why?"

"Why?" she gasped.

"Cause I love making love to your beautiful body, that's why. I love the way you look, the way you feel, the way you smell. You're like the woman of my dreams. My wet dreams. Nobody makes me as big as you do. Or as hard. That's why I dream about you, Bri. That's why I dream of filling you with my warm, creamy cum."

Her eyes were wide and she'd stopped breathing.

"You love the way I smell?" she gasped, one eyebrow raised.

"Pheromones, baby!" he chuckled. "C'mon, I wanna show you my new toy."

He helped her off the table and led her to the bed.

"The first thing we need to do is get you into this thing."

"Into it?"

"Yeah, it's really easy. It's like a harness. I'll help you."

He guided her through the steps of getting into the swing. She was slightly taller than Jessica so he needed to adjust the straps a bit.

Five minutes later, she was secured.

"Now, the key here is to relax. I'm here. I've got you. Just lay back and take some deep, cleansing breaths."

She did as he instructed, laying her head back and taking a deep breath. She was laying on her back with her feet raised and her legs spread.

Her pussy was pink and glistening.

"Now, I'm going to put on some mood music. To help you relax."

He went to the control panel and switched to some rhythmic, percussive music.

"Remember, we have the place to ourselves. No one can hear us. No one can see us. The closest neighbor lives a hundred yards away. And it happens to be you. So, basically, it's like we're on a deserted isle. Just you and me."

"I like the sound of that."

"Good. And that means, if you feel like expressing your pleasure, then do it. If you feel like moaning because it feels good, then moan. If it feels so good that you have to cry out, then cry out. And if the pleasure is so intense, so incredible, that it makes you wanna scream, I wanna hear you scream."

Her chest was heaving and her nipples were getting extended. He could see her pussy glistening even more.

"Let's get started."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna start with something really simple. To get you used to it."

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see. For now, I want you to close your eyes and focus on the sensations."

He scootched his body underneath her until his face was under her pussy.

He softly licked her pussy from the base all the way to her clit.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

He repeated the motion, sliding his broad tongue over her entire pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Paul licked her pussy for a good half hour, using every technique and every skill that he'd learned over many months in and around Pleasure Point.

He knew from experience what Bri liked, and he used that knowledge to take her right up the elevator.

She came like nobody's business.

When it was time to move on, Paul noticed his cock was rock hard. Bri had a way of doing that.

She was so orgasmic, just seeing and hearing her cum was enough to make him hard.

He scootched his body until his cock was under her pussy.

"I'm gonna come inside you now."

He stood his hard cock up and pressed the tip against her dripping wet pussy.

He lay back on the bed and lifted his hips.

His hard cock slowly sunk into her warm, wet lips.

They both moaned.

"That feels so good!" they both said, in unison.

They both laughed.

He pressed his hips up and slid the bolster under his hips. Then he started rotating his hips, stroking her.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "This feels so good for me."

"Me too," he gasped. "It does for me too."

He lay back, undulated his body so his cock was touching every part of her pussy.

She couldn't stop moaning.

"I feel like I'm floating," she gasped. "Like you're making love to me in Zero-G."

He was pulsing his hips upward. Rhythmically. Penetrating her with his long, thick cock.

He felt like she might need to hear how he was feeling. To connect with him.

"The only part of you that's touching me," he whispered, "is your pussy. And... that feels amazing!"

He pressed his pelvis upward, as deep as he could go.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried.

He kept pressing into her, filling her.

"You feel so big!" she gasped. "Incredibly big!"

"You've made me so big," he gasped. "You're so fucking sexy."

"Keep moving like that," she moaned. "I'm gonna cum."

He could feel the head of his cock pressing against her cervix.

"Oh, Paul! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

He kept pushing himself deep inside her, stroking her with his giant prick.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried.

He reached up with both hands and held her boobs, her nipples between his fingers.

He squeezed his fingers together, pinching them.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried out again.

He could feel her pussy contracting, she was having an extended orgasm.

He reached down and found her clit, rubbing it with his finger pads.

"Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeee!" she screamed.

He kept rubbing her clit while pumping his cock deep inside her.

She kept screaming, her head flailing back and forth.

"I'm gonna try something," he gasped. "See how this feels."

With his hands, he started to slowly rotate her body.

"Oh my God... What are you..."

Her eyes were open and she could see the ceiling turning in a circle.

She was spinning, round and round, on the axis of his cock.

"How's that feel?" he gasped.

"Incredible! It feels incredible!"

"I'm gonna go a little faster," he gulped. "Tell me if it's too much."

He used his hands to spin her faster and faster. Then he went back to pulsing into her.

"Oh my God!" she screamed. "Oh my God!"

For him, the feeling of her pussy spinning around his cock was amazing. Unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

And for her, the feeling of his huge cock thrusting into her while at the same time reaming her was incredible. She felt like her pussy was being fucked by a thousand cocks.

"Rub your clit!" Paul shouted. "Rub your clit while I fuck you!"

She reached down and began rubbing her clit furiously.

He spun her around even faster. She was spinning on his cock. His huge, hard cock.

"I'm cumming!" she screamed. "I'm cumming!"

"I'm gonna cum too!" he groaned.

He felt the biggest electrical charge he'd ever felt build in his limbs, gather in his groin, and explode out of his cock.

Huge ribbons of hot, creamy cum shot from his cock into her pussy.

Again and again he exploded. Cumming like he'd never cum before.

Her body was convulsing, spasming, as she felt him explode inside her.

She kept cumming and cumming, with the world spinning around her, a kaleidoscope of light and color and sensation, until the darkness overwhelmed her and she blacked out.

"How're you feeling, Bri?" Jessica asked, a concerned look on her face.

"What the hell happened?" Bri mumbled.

"Um, I think you passed out," Paul said.

Bri was out of the harness and Paul was holding her in his arms on the bed. Her limp body was propped against his chest.

Jessica was kneeling next to them, holding a glass of water for her to drink.

"It might have been a combination of the spinning and dehydration," Jessica offered.

"No, that wasn't it," Bri said, taking the glass.

Paul and Jessica glanced at each other.

"No?" Paul asked. "What do you think it was?"

She looked up at him with a "what do you think?" expression.

"It was you, babe. The way you were doing me. You fucked me straight into oblivion."

Paul raised his eyebrows.

"Bri, I'm really sorry..."

"What are you sorry about? It was fantastic. So, I blacked out. It's not the first time. And, from what I can tell, I'm still in one piece. No major injuries. I feel fine. I feel better than fine. I got exactly what I was looking for."

"What's that?" Jessica asked.

"The most intense orgasm of my life."

Jessica looked at Paul.

"Well, that's a relief. We were thinking we were going to have to take you in to Urgent Care."

"Urgent Care?" she scoffed. "I don't need to see a doctor. Unless it's Doctor Paul here."

Jessica glanced at her watch.

"We're out of time, I'm afraid," Jessica said.

Bri gave Jessica a dirty look.

"So I slept through my allotted time, is that it?" Bri asked, sharply.

"You weren't sleeping, Bri," Jessica said, getting her dander up. "You lost consciousness because you were enjoying yourself so much. I'd say you got your money's worth."

"Oh, we're back to the money now, are we?" Bri said, her voice rising. "It's always about money with you."

"Well, you never bothered getting back to me about how much you were going to pay."

"Well, I'll have you know, I've already paid quite a bit, thank you very much!"

"In the past!" Jessica said, angrily. "I'm talking about the present!"

""Hey, hey," Paul broke in. "Ladies, please. It's all good. If you want more time, Bri, no problem. I'm totally down for it."

This seemed to placate Bri somewhat. Jessica just shrugged.

"Honestly," Bri muttered, "you'd think you were getting a percentage of Paul's take or something."

Paul glanced at Jessica.

"I think it's just a misunderstanding," Paul said. "Jessica's just helping me cause I can't text you directly. Whatever you want to donate is fine with me. I appreciate everything you've done for me."

""I've donated a shitload of Meta stock over the past year..." she mumbled.

"Yes, you have. You've been incredibly generous."

"Meanwhile, I have to fight with my husband and his sheister lawyer to keep my share of what we collectively own. We're gonna have to sell our beach house and split the proceeds."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with that," Jessica said. "That sounds awful."

"It is awful," Bri said. "The only saving grace with this goddam divorce is Paul and I won't have to be skulking around avoiding the security cameras."

"Um, Paul's retiring, Bri."

"I know he's retiring, Jess! For Christ's sake, you're such a Debbie Downer!"

"Just want to be clear about that..."

"Listen," Paul interrupted, "why don't Bri and I take a little time together. I can meet you back in the house?"

"Fine. I was just leaving."

"Thanks Jessica."

Jessica got up from the bed and walked out of the gazebo.

"What crawled up her ass?" Bri muttered.

"She's just trying to look out for me."

"Why is she trying to keep you and me apart. I don't get it."

"She's not trying to keep us apart. It was her idea for me to do this custom experience for you. No, she's just... supporting me as I transition out of this business."

She rolled on top of him, her bare breasts brushing against his chest.

"That's what I'm talking about. I understand you want to cut back on your handyman hours. But I don't see why you and I can't get together periodically. Especially with my soon to be ex-husband out of the picture."

"I'm involved with someone now. I really want to make it work with her."

"I know, Jess told me. But I don't see why you can't do both. I mean, a couple of times a month isn't going to hurt anyone. I could come to your place. Or we could do it here."

She reached down and found his cock. She wrapped her fingers around head.

"No one's ever made me feel the way you do. Did you hear how loud I was screaming? I've never screamed like that before!"

"You were really into it."

"And so were you," she whispered. "I could tell. How big you were. Fuck you were big! You were spreading me so much. And when you came! Oh my God, you came buckets!"

"I had a great orgasm."

"Don't you want to keep doing that? I can sneak into your place like you used to sneak into mine. Maybe slip into your bed while your asleep. Take your cock into my mouth and make you really, really big. Fuck your brains out and then steal away. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"It sounds enticing, but I don't think my girlfriend would appreciate it."

"Oh, your girlfriend," she said, petulantly. "Who is this lucky woman anyway?"

Paul hesitated. He hadn't told many people about Jasmine. Just Jessica. And Maddie.

Still, with Jasmine coming home in a few days, and Bri living right next door to Jessica, he knew she'd be finding out soon enough.

"It's Jasmine."

Bri looked at him, shocked.

"My Jasmine?"

Paul was momentarily flustered.

"Well, I guess. Jasmine Devereux. Jessica's daughter."

"Sweet little Jasmine? My god-daughter?"

"She's your god-daughter? I didn't know that."

"I've known her since she was a toddler. I'm her Auntie Bri. She used to climb over the wall between our houses and visit me. She was 'Scrub J' and I was 'Honey B'. We used to fly around on the lawn together."

She looked wistful, staring out at the sunset.

"Well, your little Scrub J's grown up," Paul said, softly. "She's 18 now. In her first year at Cal. And we're in love."

Bri looked at him in both eyes. Her own eyes brimming with tears.

"Sweet Jasmine. My little girl's grown up."

"So, as great as that sounds. You and me hooking up on the sly. I don't want to be that kind of boyfriend. I want to treat Jasmine right. She deserves it."

He could see this new reality was settling in.

"Of course, of course. No wonder Jess was so protective of you."

She stared into space, considering the implications of this revelation.

There was something indisputable about this news. Something... absolute.

It was a given that she would never, ever, do anything to hurt Jasmine. She loved her like a daughter.

"Tell me, Paul," she said, quietly. "Does Jasmine know about us?"

Paul frowned and shook his head.

"No, not yet. She knows about my handyman business but I haven't told her who my clients are. To protect their privacy. But I know I need to be honest with her."

"Better for her to hear it from you."

"Yeah. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to her. Obviously."

"I won't. I hardly see her anymore, but I won't say anything."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence. Just the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

"I dunno if you still feel like hanging out..." Paul asked.

"You know," she smiled, "given the news, I'm thinking that last go-round was pretty hard to top. Maybe that's the one we should end on."

"It was pretty amazing, wasn't it?"

"I won't forget it anytime soon."

"C'mon," he smiled. "Let's get dressed."

A few minutes later, they were walking up to the main house. Jessica was sitting at the dining room table going through some papers.

"Already finished?" Jessica said, taking off her reading glasses.

"Called on account of darkness," Paul said.

"Paul told me about Jasmine," Brie said. "I must say, I'm... simply delighted."

Jessica heaved a sigh.

"I am too."

The two women looked at each other. Their squabble from earlier seemed a distant memory.

"Well, I'm gonna head home," Paul said. "Goodnight, Bri. Jessica."

"Goodnight Paul."

Jessica walked him to the front door.

"Listen, Jasmine called. She said she was trying to reach you. Your phone was off."

"Yeah, I silenced it. Is she okay?"

"She sounds fine. It was morning for her. She was on the train from Paris to Deauville. She was visiting friends or something. You should call her."

"Yeah," Paul said. "I'll call her right now. Thanks."

She gave his hand a squeeze and he was out the door.

Jessica returned to the living room and found Bri standing at the window looking out at the ocean.

"Wanna drink?"

Bri looked at her and sighed.

"Sure. What are we having?"

"Whatever you want. I've got everything."

"How 'bout a Black Russian?"

"Vodka and Kahlúa," Jessica said. "You drowning your sorrows?"

"Nah. I mean, it's bittersweet. Endings are always sad. But I'm really happy for Jasmine. And Paul."

"Yeah, me too."

Jessica added ice to two old-fashioned glasses, then poured in a couple of ounces of vodka.

She didn't know if Paul had told Bri about their on-going relationship, so she decided to keep her cards close to her vest.

She added a splash of Kahlúa, stirred both drinks, and then headed to the kitchen to fetch an orange.

"She's quite taken with him," Jessica said over her shoulder. "He's very supportive and they have fun together."

Bri made a face. She knew about having fun with Paul.

Jessica came back with a couple of orange slices.

"I think he's been good for her. Really good."

She garnished each drink with an orange slice, perched on the edge of the glass.

"He told me he wanted to treat her right," Bri said. "That she deserved it."

"He's quite in love with her," Jessica said, handing her the glass.

"Can you blame him?" Bri smiled.

They sat on the couch together, turned to face each other. Two old friends talking heart to heart. United by their love of a young woman at the cusp of adulthood.

"You know, Bri, I know you're under a lot of stress. With the divorce and everything. I just want you to know that I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Jess."

"And I was thinking about what you were saying. About selling your beach house. How you were worried you wouldn't get your fair share and everything."

"Raj is very spiteful. I could see him unloading it in a hurry just to stick it to me. Plus, with the way interest rates are right now and with home sales down generally, I don't want to take a bath on it."

"That's the thing. It got me thinking. Remember, when I sold you the parcel originally? The contract contained a very specific buy back option."

"It did? I don't remember that."

"I recall my lawyer advising me on it. I couldn't remember the details but I just re-read the contract. In short, it allows me to regain ownership of the property under predefined circumstances. It gives me the right, but not the obligation, to repurchase the property in the event you were to put the property up for sale."

"Like a first refusal?"

"Exactly. And here's the thing. It prescribes exactly how the value of the house will be determined. A formula that averages comps in the area. The clause was originally put in to protect me, to protect the value of my property, but I think we can use it to protect you."

"So, if we sell the house, we have to sell it to you?"

"And at a fair price."

"But what if Raj puts up a fuss? And insists on unloading it to someone else?"

"He can't. It's in the contract."

A broad smile spread across Bri's face.

"God, I love how you plan ahead. Just one thing. What the hell are you gonna do with two side-by-side beach houses?"

Jessica gave her a little shrug.

"Well, I was thinking I'd give it to Jasmine."

"To Jasmine?"

"She's always loved that house. She loved playing in it. She loved the hot tub. She loved the stairs down to the beach. She always loved hanging out there. Mainly because she loved you."

Bri's hand went to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with emotion.

"I love the idea of Jasmine living there. That would make me so happy."

"I thought you'd like that," Jessica smiled. "And since she'll be away at college for the next few years, there'll be plenty of room for overnight guests. And I can think of one person in particular who might want to visit regularly."

Bri smiled, reaching over to squeeze her friend's hand.

"I'd love that too," Bri said softly.

"And we could put a gate in that stone wall like we've always talked about. They could come visit anytime they want."

"They?"

"Jasmine and... anyone who might be living over there... with her."

Bri smiled.

"Like Paul? Or maybe a couple of grandkids?"

Jessica laughed.

"I'm just thinking in the long term. You know me. I'm always planning."

Paul was on his phone calling Jasmine the moment he left Jessica's house. He was walking home on East Cliff Drive when Jasmine answered his call.

"Hey you," she said, her voice soft and intimate.

"Hey," he answered. "Sorry I missed your calls. My phone was off."

"Sorry to spam you. I'm on the train to Deauville. It's a good time for me to talk."

"How're you doing? How'd it go with Pierre?"

"Have I got a story to tell you."

She proceeded to tell him everything. From beginning to end. He ended up sitting on one of the benches overlooking the ocean, as the last traces of sunlight faded from the western sky.

For forty-five minutes he listened to her, patiently and supportively. He could tell she needed to unload and he was there for her.

She told him about her dinner with Pierre, how he plied her with alcohol and flattery, and their walk through Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

She told him about seeing his apartment and how he dangled promises of helping her with her career. How he tried to seduce him and how she tricked him into leaving her bedroom and locked him out.

She described his sheepish behavior the next morning, blaming the late-night brandy for "perhaps being a bit too aggressive'.

After hearing the whole sordid tale, Paul asked her the one question foremost on his mind.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said. "I'm kinda proud of the way I handled it, actually. It was a pretty cool move."

"Sounds like it."

"But I'm also kicking myself. This is the second time he's pulled this stunt."

"Well, don't kick yourself too hard. Just learn from it."

"Yeah, like don't put myself in that position. I'm telling ya, I'm never staying the night at his place by myself again."

"You think you'll go to that dinner?"

"Haven't decided. If I do, I'm getting a hotel room, that's for sure."

"Good call. I can Venmo you money if you need it. I came into some cash this week."

"From your handyman business?"

"Yeah. I've officially closed up shop. It feels great. Like I've cleared the decks."

"That's good."

"So when you come back, it can be just the two of us."

Jasmine let out a sigh.

"That's what I want too. More than anything."

"You do? Really?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about my summer job. You know, at the bookstore in Menlo Park? I've been thinking about trying to get a job at a bookstore in Santa Cruz instead."

There was a pregnant pause as Paul thought about what this would mean.

"I think that'd be awesome," he said, quietly.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I've been saying I wanted to find a way for us to be together."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Cause I've been reaching out to bookstores and there's one in Pleasure Point that's interested in hiring me."

"Jas, that's great!"

"It's called Two Birds Bookstore and they sell new and used books. The owner likes my experience working in bookstores. Plus, she studied English at Cal too so we have that in common. She wants to meet me in person when I get back."

"I'm so psyched, Jas. Really. Have you thought about where you'd stay?"

"Well, I don't have the job yet, but if I get it, I'm sure I could stay at my mom's house."

There was another pause.

"You could stay at my place," he said. "If that's something you want to consider."

"Let's talk about it," she said. "I like the idea of getting a big dose of Paul. At the same time, I like the idea of having a space of my own. To write."

"No, I get it. Either way, I'm sure we'll be together a lot and I'm super excited about that."

"Me too," she said. "Being so far away, having all this time to think about stuff, I think I've had kind of a... I don't know... an epiphany."

"An epiphany? Wow, that sounds serious. What kind of epiphany?"

There was a pause. Then she spoke, clearly and earnestly.

"I know we have our own lives, and we're both super busy, but I think we owe it to ourselves to take the opportunity and see how we are together. As a couple. Cause the more I think about us, the way we treat each other, how we communicate and what's important to us as human beings, the more I'm convinced that you're the right person for me. I guess what I'm trying to say, in my babbling and blathering way, is this: I love you, Paul. And I want to be with you."

He could feel her words resonating throughout his body. He looked up at the sky and smiled.

"I love you too, Jas. And I think this is going to be really, really good for us. I have a good feeling about it."

"Me too," she said, softly. "I'm looking forward to it."

There was a pause.

"One thing that's really important in a relationship," he said, "is being honest with each other. Telling each other the truth. The whole truth."

There was another pause.

They both started to say something.

"I've been meaning to tell you..."

"There's a bit more to the story..."

They both stopped.

"Go ahead," he said.

"No, you go," she answered.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said, tentatively. "I've been meaning to but then I was gonna wait til you got home. To tell you in person."

"What is it?"

Paul felt the heat rush to his face. He was committed now. He was going there. He felt his heart thumping.

"To be honest, I'm a little nervous about telling you."

"How come?"

He shook his head. This was hard for him.

"I don't want your feelings for me to change."

"My feelings aren't going to change," she said, softly. "I told you. I had an epiphany."

He chuckled.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about the epiphany."

There was another pause.

"I just wanted to tell you the whole story about my handy man business. Which I'm now officially done with."

"OK."

"What it entails, or entailed, exactly."

"Alright."

"It started initially with Maddie. I helped her with her garden. And did chores around her house. I needed a place to sleep. So she let me sleep there."

"You worked off your rent. I don't see what the big deal is."

"I slept in her bed. With her."

"Oh."

"She was my favorite teacher in high school and she offered to tutor me in certain life skills."

"What kind of life skills?"

He took a breath.

"How to satisfy a woman. Completely. How to give her an experience she'd never forget. She called them love lessons."

"How long did this go on?"

"A few months."

"A few months?"

"There were a lot of areas to cover. And then I needed time to practice."

"To practice."

"So I could really master them. After a while, I moved into the studio above her garage, but we kept up the lessons a couple nights a week."

"Jeez."

"And then, I met Ally through Maddie. She lived next door. She lost her husband five or six years ago and she's been alone ever since. Maddie thought maybe I could help her, you know, come out of her shell. So I did."

"How'd you do that?"

"Well, at first, I did some modeling for her. She's an artist and photographer and she needed someone to pose for her. So that's what I did. Mainly in the nude."

"I see."

"And one thing led to another."

"Uh-huh."

"So then, for a while I was splitting my time between Maddie and Ally's. A couple nights a week, I'd stay with Maddie, and she'd give me love lessons, and then a couple nights at Ally's, where we'd make art and... put those lessons into practice."

"You'd make art and then make love."

"Yeah. But then, Ally was diagnosed with cancer and needed help covering her medical costs. And I'd transferred to Cal State and got a car so I had a bunch of new expenses. Anyway, I needed to make money fast and I got this idea of starting a handyman business."

"And what was involved in your handyman business exactly?"

"Well, basically the same thing I was doing for Maddie and Ally. Gardening, painting, fixing things around the house by day. And taking care of... their needs by night."

"Their needs."



"That's right. We had this idea to publicize my new business at Maddie's book club. So, I showed up, gave my pitch, and I got a bunch of leads."

"I bet you did."

"And one of them was Briana Carroll."

"Bri?"

"Yeah. She needed her porch re-painted so I went over and took care of it. She was separated from her husband at the time and was... lonely. She invited me to hang out with her afterwards."

"Oh my God. Auntie Bri?"

"We hit it off and I started visiting her every week. But then, her husband started getting suspicious and installed a bunch of security cameras. So, Bri arranged for me to meet her next door, at your mom's house."

"You met her at my mom's house?"

"Yeah. And that's how I met your mom. But then Bri got hung up at work and I ended up just spending the night with your mom."

"You spent the night?"

"Well, the evening. Until Bri came. But we ended up doing yoga together. And..."

"One thing led to another."

"Yeah."

"So you and my mom..."

"She's been one of my regular clients."

"Oh my God," she said. "So, you're the mystery man in Pleasure Point?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. And I have one other client too. Emily. I don't know if you know her."

"Emily from down the street? The Apple exec?"

"Yeah. So, those three women made up my entire client base. I've been taking care of their needs for about six or seven months. But now I've told each of them that I'm not providing those kinds of services anymore. I'm in a serious relationship now. And I'm a one-woman man."

"So these women... they paid you for these services?"

"Well, they donated stock to my college fund."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I've got hundreds of shares of Apple, Google, and Meta stock."

"Wow."

"So that's what my handyman business entailed. In a nutshell."

There was a long pause.

"You know, I kinda suspected you and my mom had something going on. Not consciously, but maybe subconsciously. I mean, the way she talks about you. The way her eyes light up when you walk in the room. Plus, I know what you're massages are like. I've experienced that first hand. I just can't imagine my mom doing any of that."

"As soon as I told your mom that I had feelings for you, we both agreed we had to stop. Out of respect for your and my relationship."

"So, what are your feelings for my mom? Do you, like, love her?"

Paul took a deep breath.

"You know, I do love her. But not like you and me. I know this sounds weird but I feel like I love her like a mom. She's so loving and caring. And smart. And wise. You know, the way she is. She's like the mom I always wish I had."

"Yeah, I know. She's an amazing mom. I think you're like the son she never had."

"So, that's what I wanted to tell you. It happened. It's over. And now I want to love you with all my heart. I hope we can get past this. Do you think we can?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I need some time to process this."

"Yeah, I figured you would. I know how you like to think things through. Just know that I'm here if you want to talk more. And that I'm committed to working through this so you and I can be together."

"OK. Got it."

He breathed a big sigh.

"So, that's my story. Did you have something you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, gosh. I just felt like I needed to tell you there was little bit more to the story about the night I spent at Pierre's. Kind of a part two."

"Oh, okay. Do you want to tell me now?"

"Actually, the train's about to pull into Deauville. And then I'm gonna be cabbing it to my grandparents' place. Why don't we pick this up later on."

"OK, sure. Why don't you call me when you can."

"I will."

"I love you, Jasmine."

"Me too."

Paul pocketed his phone and started heading back towards his place.

She'd taken the news fairly well. Better than he expected. He was nervous she'd be weirded out by the idea of him having a longterm affair with her mom.

She seemed to handle it as well as could be expected. He figured her feelings would evolve the more she thought about it.

He was just happy she was okay after that night with Pierre. What an ordeal!

He wondered what part two was all about. Maybe it was about the upcoming dinner party. She may have decided to tell him to shove it.

He wouldn't blame her.

Or maybe she was planning to do the dinner anyway since there'd be a lot of other people around. Safety in numbers.

Whatever it was, he was just happy she was safe, healthy, and happy.

Now, will she still be happy after she's had some time to process the news about him and her mom?

In a week's time, he'd be picking her up at the airport and driving her home.

He'd know how she was feeling soon enough.

# # #