Chapter 17

Anne & Stan

On Saturday morning Stan had woken with Anne, each feeling very slightly awkward with the other, not knowing what to say, and then a smile, a touch and all was well again.

Anne had looked coyly at Stan, who’d given her a long, lustful, lingering kiss. The kiss turned into a more extended make-out session, before Stan broke it off. He was a little embarrassed: he ought to have been physically aroused, but nothing was happening. ‘Tempus fugit,’ he thought ruefully while pulling on his trousers, ‘I simply have to get into shape!’ and got up in search of coffee.

Anne, looking worried, followed, not bothering to dress. She asked, “What’re you after, Stan?”

“I need coffee to function, my sweet! – without it I’m a sloth in the mornings.”

Anne embraced him and gave him another kiss. Finally, she pulled back and said, “Okay, I’m going to get dressed. Coffee’s in that cupboard, you can have full-fat or decaffeinated – I want the real thing this morning.” After a final peck on the cheek she flowed from his arms and back into the bedroom.

Stan got busy, and soon Anne emerged, wearing a tan wraparound skirt and white t-shirt. She got busy with toast while Stan went to put his shirt on.

They chatted about inconsequential things for a while over their breakfast, then Stan stopped for a moment and looked meaningfully at Anne.

“We need to decide what we’re doing, you know.”

“This weekend, or in general, Stan?” she asked, “I thought I’d made it clear what I want last night. I want to be your girlfriend, and see where it takes us…”

She paused for a moment, and Stan leapt in ”I want that too, Anne. I want it so much I can’t believe it.”

Anne smiled back at him, eyes glistening.

“I know, Stan. I was going to say that you’re the first man I’ve trusted, really trusted, since Daniel. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but that’s a fact I can’t deny. It’s…it’s happened so quickly, that’s all. But I want to be with you!”

Stan’s more cautious nature reasserted itself.

“I want that too, Anne. But let’s take things as they come, for now, and not say things we might regret later. I think we’ll scandalize people at as it is, so let’s slow down. We have a lot to discover about each other.”

Stan decided some levity would be a good idea, so he added, “Besides, one thing you’ll learn quickly is that I’m not a seventeen year old any more. I ache this morning, you gave me a good workout!”

Anne brightened again, “Horizontal callisthenics, you can’t beat it!” 

The two finished their breakfast, then Anne, looking pensive, asked Stan, “Do you have a bike? A pushbike, I mean?”

“No, I don’t. I haven’t ridden a bike since I left school. Why?”

“This talk of exercise reminded me that I normally go for a ride on Saturdays. It’s good exercise, non-impact, works most of the muscle groups and gets me out in the air instead of being cooped up by a computer or in the lab. You should try it!”

Stan wasn’t keen on the idea. On the other hand, it would be more time spent with Anne…

“Well, the bike shop in town isn’t open ‘til nine. I guess we could go in and get a bike for me then. Doesn’t have to be expensive, does it?”

“Not for what we want, although you can spend a lot!” 

“No, I can’t!” Stan emphasised, grinning.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anne drove Stan back to his place and returned home for her bike. She put on exercise shorts and a sweatshirt, checked her messages and email, then rode over to Stan’s house.

Stan poked around among his clothes, finally deciding on what to wear, while listening to an album by Skunk Anansie. By the time he’d changed clothes she’d arrived. The two of them walked into town, Anne wheeling her bike. They entered the bike shop and Stan explained that he wanted a bike to ride on the local roads and such, not expensive, off-road NOT a requirement!

Anne told him he was a sissy, but Stan wasn’t having it, “It’s almost 30 years since I’ve ridden a bike at all, and you want me to go off-road? You could at least wait until you’re going to collect the insurance money!” Anne laughed gaily and told the salesman to include a helmet, knee and elbow pads in the purchase. Stan just accepted, a little tight lipped.

They walked the bikes – at Stan’s insistence – around to a park, and Stan gingerly tried riding again for the first time in over thirty years. Despite what they say about never forgetting how to ride, he didn’t find it easy and wobbled alarmingly. Anne’s obvious amusement at his attempts didn’t make him feel any better, but after a while he started to rediscover his balance.

“You’re starting to get it now, Stan. Tell you what, we’ll have a ride along the paths here in the park for a bit, then we can ride the bikes home to your place and order in some lunch. How’s that sound?”

Stan didn’t answer audibly, he was concentrating, but he did nod his head. But it wasn’t long before Anne told him it was time to “hit the road”. Stan groaned and told her, “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” The only answer he received was Anne’s laugh and change of direction.

A quarter of an hour later the two reached his house. “See? It’s much more convenient than walking, and better exercise. You might even consider biking into work, Stan. I ride for around an hour, normally, a little quicker than we did just now.”

“I think this is a ploy to get me to take exercise,” grumbled Stan, who was sedentary by choice.

“Well. This morning you missed an opportunity, didn’t you? Better fitness, more and better sex. There’s an incentive for you!” Anne said, smiling to soften the blow to Stan’s ego.

Stan wasn’t terribly mollified, though. He worried for a bit while Anne used his phone to call in a lunch order from a local takeaway. He continued to worry while they waited for it to arrive, even though Anne carried the conversation.

When the food arrived, they put it on Stan’s coffee table and sat in his comfortable armchairs to eat it. Anne had ordered more than enough, and they ate well. Satisfied, Stan got up and took the leftovers into the kitchen, then returned with a bottle of wine from the fridge.

He poured a glass each and sat on the sofa, trying to compose his thoughts. Eventually, Stan managed to come up with some words to express his misgivings.

“Anne, I know that I’m older, less capable than you might have wanted. I hope I can be enough for you.”

Anne took one look at his face, and went to the sofa. She sat next to him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. The kiss was long and deep, Anne’s tongue forcing itself into Stan’s mouth, conveying her passion, her heat. Finally she pulled away from him and looked right into his eyes.

“Stanley Hinch, you’re a wonderful man. I think I hurt you earlier on, and I didn’t mean to. You are capable of the most important thing; you inspire trust of yourself in me. That’s more important than mere physical things, because without that trust you wouldn’t get near enough to me to use mere muscles. Now then, no more feeling sorry for yourself, and let me show you just how much I mean this. You’re not going to have to do a thing!”

With that Anne reached for Stan’s waistband. When Stan tried to help she slapped his hand and reminded him, “Remember, you don’t have to do a thing!” She opened his fly, fished out his now rising penis and slowly, tantalisingly, lovingly started to stroke him with her right hand. She lowered her mouth to it and began to kiss up and down the sides of his penis, then she sensuously kissed up and down the underside of his organ.

Next Anne licked him, starting at his base and running up, slowly, so very slowly up to the tip, then running her tongue around the sensitive head she ran back down again, finally reaching the wiry hair at the root. Stan had now become hard, just as he had been last night. Looking down, Stan could see blonde hair, those wonderfully expressive hazel eyes watching him, and not much else, for his jutting manhood obscured the view of what he could only see in his mind’s eye, those sensuous lips and agile tongue.

“You see?” she whispered to him, “Everything works fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

She ran her hand up and down again a few times, and then finally, finally she placed her mouth around his crown, closed her lips and sucked. Again she swirled her tongue around him, then lowered her face some more, taking him deeper into her mouth. She backed off him, sucking as she went, her cheeks hollowing.

Stan was entranced by the sight of this beautiful woman performing such a task for him, by the sensations around his dick, by the thought that Anne felt so much for him already in their still young relationship. Then thought disappeared and only sensation remained.

Anne again lowered herself, unable to quite take in his whole length, getting close, close, trying to force herself not to gag and not quite succeeding. She sucked back up to the top of his member, coating him in saliva, then jacking while licking him, bringing him close but never quite over.

She again placed her mouth over the crown, lovingly pushing herself down, down, using her tongue on the underside of his penis. Soon Stan began attempting to thrust deeper, and Anne firmly gripped him around the base, waiting for him to subside.

Stan lightly ran the fingertips of his right hand through her hair for a moment, caressing down over the lobe of her ear, down her jaw to her chin. She lifted off him for a moment, shook her head and waved a finger at him, and he lowered the hand to his side again as she grinned and said, “Not a thing, Stan, not a thing.”

Again she cycled, licking and jacking and sucking, making love to his penis with her mouth and hands. Anne was enjoying herself but was focussed on his pleasure, on showing this man that she already felt deeply for, that the body of a teenager wasn’t necessary, that it was his soul that she wanted, needed for him to share.

Stan bucked underneath her and again Anne held him at the base of his penis, waiting for him to subside. Now she began to suck him in earnest, bobbing up and down, sucking on the way up, swirling her tongue around the tip at the peak of the upstroke, then almost lunging down to her limit.

Finally Stan could hold back no more and he grunted out a “Cu-cumming!” allowing Anne to suck hard at the bulbous end while pumping with her now tiring fist. Stan felt his orgasm approach, then his vision darkened and it seemed to him that he pumped endlessly into Anne’s mouth.

For Anne it was consummation; she delighted in receiving Stan’s seed in her mouth. She sucked gently, fisting him to get all of his ejaculate, then finally lifted her mouth away from Stan’s slightly softening penis.

She carefully pooled Stan’s cum on her tongue and nudged him, causing him to open his eyes again and watch her. She opened her mouth, showing him his cum as if it was her offering to him, then swallowed twice, licking her lips. She bent once more and licked up the last trace of cum on the end of his prick, wiping a stray tendril up into her mouth to finish and swallowed once more.

Stan looked on in wonder. Twice now Anne had orally taken him, something he’d never experienced until last night. This second time had been an exhibition of her feelings for him, and he was deeply, deeply touched. He lifted her head and bent down to kiss her, tasting his cum at the same time. He allowed no hint of distaste for that to come between himself and this marvel who had given herself so fully to him, kissing her with a love that so far neither had actually declared.

Their eyes met and once more they were fully in tune with one another. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary.

- - - - - - - - - -

Eventually, Stan tipped Anne’s face up towards his and simply said, “Thank you.”

Anne, understanding, nevertheless dimpled and replied, “You’re welcome, Stan. It was my pleasure.”

They passed the rest of the afternoon and evening playing some of Stan’s wide range of music, talking, just being with each other. Eventually Anne had to go home to get changed. Stan asked if she could come over to meet him for breakfast, and Anne replied, “What makes you think I’m spending any more time away from you than I have to? I was planning on bringing a toothbrush and a change of clothes here.”

Needless to say, Stan had no objection to that plan, but he did still have a small worry. If Anne expected sex he wasn’t sure he could deliver after orgasming as hard as that.

When the two went to bed about an hour later, Anne simply cuddled him and told him, “Sleep, Stan. Just cuddle me, that’s what I want from you.”

Neither had used the L-word yet, but both were aware of it hovering in their minds. Anne had almost accepted that she loved Stan, understanding coming as suddenly as a crystallising supersaturated solution. Stan was having a harder time of it, wrestling with the love he still felt for Caron.

Late in the night, with one of Anne’s arms still draped over him, Stan lay on his back with his eyes open, staring upwards. He silently asked the dark eyes that only he could see, ‘What’s happening, love? I’m beginning to feel for Anne the way I feel for you. Is that even possible?’

A little while later he felt reassured. He could love another – Anne – the way he loved Caron. He was reminded of a phrase from Robert Heinlein: “Love doesn’t subtract, it multiplies!” Finally content, he drifted off to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sunday morning. It was already late; the clock on Stan’s bedside cabinet said 10:30 in blinking green light. Stan looked across the bed.

Anne lay looking utterly relaxed in her sleep. Once more Stan marvelled at her beauty. He couldn’t believe what she’d done for him the previous night on the sofa, it had been an utterly unselfish act. He knew that he should reciprocate, but Anne looked so sweet in her sleep that he didn’t want to wake her.

Stan carefully slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom for his morning pee. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth he grabbed his electric razor and quietly walked downstairs using the mirror in the hall to shave in.

He poured juice into a pair of glasses and made coffee, humming tunelessly to himself. Finally he returned carefully to his bedroom, put the tray down on the dressing table and went to Anne.

He bent over and kissed her gently, but she still started in momentary alarm as she woke. When recognition came into her eyes Stan saw her relax, and he gently rubbed her shoulder before sliding into bed alongside her.

“It’s okay, Anne, you’re with me,” he told her, reaching across and taking a glass in his hand. “Here, have some juice.” Anne smiled and took the glass from him, sipping at the cool drink.

Stan reached for his coffee and drank, too, and quietly watched as Anne shook off the cobwebs of sleep. He finished his drink before her and reached out for his juice.

“I told you, I need coffee to function in the mornings, melamin,” he told her.

“Huh?” Anne stopped and asked.

“It’s Elvish for “My love,” he told her, softly. “I told you the night before last that you were my elf-maiden, and I once had a silly idea of writing love poetry in Elvish after seeing the films. I took one look at learning the languages - yes, there are two! - and gave up on that, but I remember that word. It just sprang into my head this morning. It seems to fit you.”

Both Stan and Anne were aware of the line that had just been crossed. Love was a four-letter word that couldn’t be taken back, even if it was a little quick in coming.

They finished their coffees and Stan leant forward to nuzzle Anne’s neck. She gave a low moan, tilting her head to give him access. Stan continued, then changed the point of attack to her ear, nibbling gently at her sensitive earlobe.

Anne slid further down into the bed, and Stan went with her, before kissing her. The kiss lasted a few seconds and seemed to last a lifetime before Stan came up for air. He gently kissed the tip of Anne’s nose before sliding gently down and caressing the undercurve of her breast before working up to kissing her nipples.

Stan then repeated his technique of two nights ago, weight on one arm with that hand caressing her face and the other hand arousing the sensitive flesh of her opposite breast while he gently nibbled, licked and swirled his tongue around the nipple of the nearest breast. This time, however, he had other plans.

He removed his right hand from the mound of flesh he was caressing and licked the middle finger before sending it lower.

Anne was losing herself in the wonderful sensations coming from Stan’s caressing hands and mouth when she felt one hand disappear before she felt it rub gently, so gently against the top of her pussy. She opened her legs to provide access and was rewarded when she felt one finger briefly enter her, no doubt gathering some of the moisture she knew had to be there. She felt that finger enter then leave, tracing up her slit towards her most sensitive place.

The touch of his finger against her clit was electric, and she surged beneath him. Stan didn’t repeat the touch right away; he drew his finger back along first one side of her outer labia and then the other, before dipping into her again and once more tracing upwards.

Still Stan upped the ante. His mouth was removed from her left breast as he kissed his way south, first the underside of her breast, then further, further, until her navel felt his tongue. Stan’s hand left the side of her face as he repositioned himself. Anne, knowing where he was going, spread herself open for him as she felt him move between her legs, now raining kisses on her mound.

Once more she felt a finger dip inside her before trailing moisture upwards. Finally she felt his mouth between her legs, kissing and sucking the top of first one thigh then the next, before his tongue briefly penetrated her.

Stan tasted Anne directly from the source for the first time and was lost. The sweet, slightly metallic flavour was incredible to him; he knew he had to have as much of this as he could. He began licking in earnest then. Anne’s legs moved of their own accord, throwing off the covers completely before pulling up, wide open and bent at the knees, laying herself totally open to him. It wasn’t long before he heard her moans rise in pitch and frequency. She bucked beneath him, her pussy twitching. Stan stopped licking her clit, instead letting her come down while gently nuzzling the crease defining the junction of leg and torso.

Anne thought she’d gone to heaven, but was really surprised when Stan began again, this time with one finger inside, hooking, looking for her G-spot. She couldn’t help the jump in reaction when he found it, and it wasn’t long before she once again was lost in her orgasm.

Afterwards, she rolled onto her side and pushed Stan away. She felt just too sensitive there. Stan pulled himself up beside her and kissed her gently, arousing her again when she smelt and tasted her own juices.

For Stan the whole episode was one of sustained, loving eroticism. During that second time he’d been able to briefly lift his head, moving his finger inside her, watching her cum. He’d loved seeing Caron in orgasm, seeing Anne the same way reminded him of his lost love, but in a good way. He’d finally made peace, and watching Anne in orgasm sealed it for him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later Anne got up and attended to her morning needs. Stan got up with her and this time dressed, the two of them meeting downstairs a few minutes later.

“Why don’t we go down to Iorio’s for breakfast?” he suggested. Anne agreed but added, “We can take the bikes!” Stan, who was still a reluctant biker, agreed a little warily.

The two pulled up outside the coffee shop a few minutes later, and after chaining their bikes they walked in.

“Hi Tony! I’d like you to meet Anne. Anne, this is Tony, he runs the place.”

“It’s-a my pleasure, my lady” Tony said. Stan was sure he was faking that accent, but had never actually caught him out on it.

Anne ordered a Cappuccino, Stan asked for a double Espresso. Both asked for a Panini for breakfast. Tony took the order and then with a lift of his chin told Stan, “Elaine is back in one of the booths. She didn’t look too happy.”

“Thanks Tony, we’ll go and find her.”

Tony waved acknowledgement and Stan led Anne to find Elaine. He found her without difficulty, but Stan was dismayed to see her slumped, looking miserable, cradling a cup between both hands. He wondered what had made her miserable and… 

‘Where was Susan?’

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