Learning to Share

Allesandra fit into every sexy, sassy cliché ever stamped on foreign women, but the degree to which she surpassed my expectations changed my life. She was Italian. That's not to say a gal from New York whose name ended with a vowel. She was the real deal—from a quaint northern town at the edge of the mountains. Her presence was demure but commanding—her accent so thick it seemed phony. All in all, she was a dream come true. Like most dreams, she came and went. The difference with Allesandra was what she left in her wake.

I didn't set out looking for her. In fact, she came looking for me. I had just turned thirty and was working at the local Y. The job was far below my education level, but I had my reasons for staying. I could adjust my schedule as needed, which was a big help in finishing up some degree work. My plan was to move on after graduation, but there was a bump in the road—my wife of four years, Hailey.

Hailey had begun working as a sales clerk at a high-end clothing store in the local mall. It seemed only fitting that she dressed nice for such a job, but I became suspicious when she began buying chic designer panties and lacey matching bras that I never saw her in. She often made flirtatious faces or posed in the mirror as she dressed, adding to my apprehension.

The mall closed at ten PM, but she was seldom home before one in the morning. As her excuses became lamer, I drove by the mall parking lot after hours one night and found her car parked alone behind the store. It was clear she was cheating on me, and I didn't want to find any job that would set her up with an alimony check once things went south like I reckoned they would. On the other hand, I wasn't going to confront her until I completed my degree.

Four years previous, I married Hailey—a beautiful redhead with bright green eyes. I should have known she wasn't the matrimonial type. We met at a state park when she sideswiped my truck at a parking area. Her car wasn't registered, so she offered to give me a blowjob if I didn't call the cops. Loose as she was, I married her thinking things would fall into place, but they hadn't. Married life was much the same thing—casual sex without any real connection.

During those dark days, the majority of my work consisted of pulling screaming kids in the water with foam bubbles strapped to their backs and green elevens bubbling from their nose. It wasn't my dream job, but I had been at it a few years and for some odd reason took to it well. In fact, I became a bit of a sensation and gained a solid reputation for being able to get even the most frightened kid accustomed to the water. There was something to be said for having hot soccer moms line up to get their preschooler a coveted spot on my roster.

I sauntered into work one Monday morning with my bag slung over my back. Offering an obligatory nod to Cassie, the sweet but feisty assistant facility manager, I swiped my badge without bothering to notice she was talking to a customer. Moping past the desk, my heart skipped a beat when a sweet voice with a thick Italian accent asked, "Ees that heem?"

"Yes ma'am," Cassie answered, "But he can't—"

"Please, I dun't wish to sign for adoolt class at night. I was told Soori Shepurd has a nick for teaching people to swem."

"Knack!" I blurted, turning around. "I-I think you...you mean knack...and s-swim."

That was it—my entire vocabulary. I fought to inhale as her blowtorch-blue eyes pierced through my pupils and froze the core of my conscience. I stood like that kid we all knew who got caught rolling a smoke bomb into the girls' locker room—nothing to offer but a gulp to swallow the lump in my throat, yet somehow proud of myself.

She tossed back her long, sandy blonde hair without breaking eye contact. "Are you Soori Shephurd?" she asked through perfectly formed lips.

"Sari," I answered. "Like the emotion."

She squinted just enough to show command without sacrificing amicability. "I was expecting pur-haps someone of Indian descent."

"Well, sorry...pardon the pun. I'm um, Irish, a-and German...maybe some Scottish, but don't say that to—"

"I wun't."

"Gud...uh...good. My great grandma was-was a dancer and uh...m-maybe—never mind."

"You taught my ney-bor's child to swem. I wundered if perhaps you could teach an adult joost as well."

Cassie cleared her throat. "Sari talks to kids all day," she chimed with a hint of sarcasm. "The babbling puts them at ease. I'm very sorry, but there are no daytime—"

"Hold on, Cassie," I interrupted, finding my mojo. "There's an hour block. It hasn't been used for a while, but it's on the schedule...three days a week."

Cassie's round cheeks had always made her pretty face an easy read. They scrunched, lifting the cute hook at the tip of her nose whenever she forced a smile, and she always flipped her thick black braid like a spanking rope before she made a witty quip. Seeing her run the gamut, I knew what was coming.

"That's when you vacuum the hair from the bottom of the pool," she sassed in a gotcha tone.

Reaching for the stack of monthly pool schedules, I grabbed a sheet off the top and pointed to adult lessons at ten o'clock. "She could start today," I boasted. "I'll vacuum during aqua-aerobics...you know, while you clean the restrooms."

Cassie rolled her big dark eyes. Crinkling her nose, she turned to the visitor. "I'd have to run it by the Executive Manager."

"He'll be fine with it," I insisted. "He always says an empty pool makes no money." Emboldened, I stepped closer—near as I dared approach the radiance of the divine stranger. She stared me down, challenging me to come closer, then shot a smile—not so much one of thanks, but of expectation. Pulling her gym bag over her shoulder, she studied me for a moment. "I hoop he approves," she sang. "I have my suit weeth me."

At ten of ten, I sat on the bleacher bench watching the last of the moms wrap their kiddos in towels and hustle into the children's locker room. The huge pool room became eerily quiet as the waves dissipated. I listened for the click of the ladies' locker room door, wondering if the delightful beauty would come for a lesson, and why the hell I offered one. I couldn't strap a bubble on her back.

Monday was Hailey's day off, and I reckoned she was making the most of it. I pictured her spread wide on a motel mattress, cooing for some coworker holding her by the calves and pounding her so hard his balls slapped off her ass. I imagined her peeling off her cum stained panties and throwing them in the wash to keep the scent out of the laundry hamper—her lover's taste still fresh on her taste buds.

I was just reaching to adjust my balls in my crowded suit when a whiff of jasmine overcame the ever-present scent of chlorine. Remembering the foreigner's all-encompassing gaze, I was equally surprised by her ability for stealth. She arrived like a wisp of smoke before me—her eyes reminding me of their intrinsic control.

As a lifeguard, I had seen many a thirty-something feminine form hugged tight by a one piece suit, but I fought to hold back a gasp at the sight of her immaculate frame. Her breasts were ample without being overbearing, and her waistline cambered to a delightful re-curve over the crests of capable hips perched high atop long, slender bronze legs. "I am Allesandra," she tendered, tugging her ponytail tight. "Thank you, Sah-ri."

She shot a knowing glance as I pushed my half-stiff tool to the side in order to stand. "So," I jested in a nervous crackle. "You came all the way across the Atlantic for a swim lesson?"

"Dun't be silly," she replied, turning her hip and bending a knee in a striking pose. "I'm here on a visa. My husband and I rented a home with a pool."

In some way, I was relieved to find she was married. Of course, I could have simply noticed the doorknob-sized ring she was wearing, but that would have been too sensible in my chaotic state of mind. Showing off my lack of professional demeanor, I began with a fumbling inquisition. "Swemming—swimming, how...how much can you...you know—"

"I sink like a ruck," she replied, stepping closer. "So please dun't worry, I have no prublem with you touching me."

Over the next two weeks I helped Allesandra become a novice swimmer. It did my heart well to know I may have helped preserve such a perfect example of the feminine divine. I touched her—a lot—striving to do so professionally. She treated it with nonchalance, but anxiety squeezed my chest each time my palm supported her arched back or tight tummy.

Helping her float on her back in chest-deep water, I stood cheek-to-olive skinned cheek, peering over her cleavage. My pulse pounded in my neck as her tight belly broke the surface. I was rewarded with a hug that left me unable to leave the water. Her cute smile made it clear she had purposely brushed a hip against my stiff appendage when she turned to leave the pool.

I never spoke to Allesandra of my ongoing personal woes, but perhaps it was my worsening reticence she picked up on. As we toweled off after her last scheduled lesson, her ever-endearing eyes softened, and her cheeks dimpled in a sweet smile. "I'm very grateful," she offered in a humble tone. "I spoke with my hoosband. He agreed I should invite you to our home to thank you on a more personal basis."

"I-I'd love to," I fumbled. "But you don't need to—"

"I wish to," she interrupted, her gaze stunning me to mute. "And bring Cassie if you like."

"Cuh-Cassie?"

"I know you enjoy her company."

"W-Well, I-I do, but she's not—I'm—"

"You are married," she chimed, drying her ankles. "But your wife has hurt your spirit. Cassie poots it back in you."

"Puts...she puts it back. I guess you're right, but I can't—"

"I unly suggested it," she interjected, standing up. "Come alone...after work, perhaps. Your wife would-unt be angry, I hope."

"Uh, no...sh-she'll probably be going out anyway."

"Good. I'll expect you this afternoon."

"Uh, okay. About four...if your husband will be home, that is."

"Four o'clock," she offered in a tone above a whisper.

For a split second, it seemed she was about to kiss me, but she patted my hip before turning to leave. My heart thumped against the wall of my chest as I watched her hips sway to her barefoot strut. "Wait!" I squawked. "I don't know where you live."

She stopped at the door to the ladies locker room and aimed the profound depths of her blue gaze at me from forty feet away. "Four o'clock, Sari," she acknowledged. "Dun't be late."

For some reason I didn't worry after that. The day went by minute by minute, but it did go by. I bolted into the locker room at three-thirty and spun the dial on my lock, but it was already open. On a pink sticky note inside the door was a handwritten address and cell phone number. The fact that it was followed by a heart wasn't lost on me, but I attributed it to Allesandra's flair for the dramatic. In any event, it was the only reason I didn't ask Cassie if she wanted to come with me.

I knew the town well, so the address didn't surprise me—the last ostentatious mansion on the point where rich folks live. I pulled my old truck into the circular driveway by the carriage house and parked beside a dark blue German roadster. Allesandra stood on an upstairs balcony watering a long flowerbox full of vibrant colors—her heavenly figure adorned by a simple sundress hemmed just below the knee. "Catch!" she called, pulling off her large brimmed hat and tossing it down.

As it landed in my outstretched hand, the late afternoon sunlight highlighted a single strand of long hair caught in the yellow ribbon tied around it. Moving beneath the balcony, I raised my gaze and held the hat like a trophy. With the sexiest giggle I'd ever heard, she tipped the watering can and anointed my forehead with a generous splash that soaked my shirt. "The frunt door is open, Sari Shepard. See you inside."

I entered the foyer expecting to see plush furniture and posh curtains, but to my surprise, the décor was Spartan. The huge dining room was decked out in a patio motif, complete with a fogged glass table and metal chairs. Setting her hat upside down on a small table beside the door, I dropped my keys in it.

"No telling how long we'll be in the states," her soft voice reverberated. "We haven't bought furnishings." She glided across the stone floor barefoot in a measured but determined prance as if she'd planned every step.

Personal space meant nothing to Allesandra. As tall as me, she stood face to face and peered into my pupils, grasping the hem of my lifeguard shirt with her lanky fingers. "I'll dry this for you," she purred, peeling it up my sides.

I raised my arms in dutiful cooperation, but a gasp escaped me—fueled in part by her calm arrogance, but more by my inability to prevent a budding hard-on. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my shirt wafting past. Bare-chested before her celestial countenance, I stood for a moment awaiting the revelation of her will. A bolt of angst crackled through me at the sight of a man's suit coat hung on the coat tree. "I'd better go," I insisted.

"Nunsense," she purred, poking my belly as if doing so would make my cock spring to full blown rigidity.

It worked. My shaft engorged to tightness I had never known—an almost uncomfortable stretch ached in the skin of my knob, poking my sweatpants out like some animated caricature. There was no time to consider how naive I had been. Nor was there a moment to rationalize that Hailey deserved no consideration before being cheated on. All I could think of was peering into the red glare of a laser sight in the instant before my head exploded. I managed a quick step back, which only served to display the non-wagging nature of the steel pipe in my shorts.

"Whut are you afraid of?" she asked.

"N-Nine millimeter hollow points, for one...not too crazy about baseball bats either."

"Shoosh," she sang, pressing her finger over my lips. "My hoosband is weeling."

"Wheeling? I-I don't get it."

"I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to leesen. Do you promise?"

I nodded before I even processed her words—probably because my staff pulsed at the sound of her voice. Her finger blessed my nose with the scent of the flowers she had been tending. Peering at her lips, I took in a breath as she spoke.

"He knows you are here," she explained. "He knows why I invited you."

My lower lip trembled as I fought to form a single word question. "Wh-why is that?"

"Because," she answered, eyes twitching side to side. "Aldo and I share a very special understanding. I enjoy the men I choose as I see fit. He...accepts that."

"He's here?" I asked in a squawk.

"Nut yet. You are early. He ees...steel at work."

"But you invited me f-for—"

"I invited you to share the joy of passion and inseminate me with your pleasure. A me-ootual reward to celeebrate my sook-cess."

"A-And that's okay with him?"

Rubbing her forefinger over my distorted sweatpants, she brought her lips an inch from my cheek—her breath wafting over it. "I'm nut looking for love," she whispered. "That would offend him. Love is hard to find...anyone can have an oorgasm."

"But they kinda go together."

"Why?" she asked, squinting a fiery gaze. "Why can a man not love a woman more than the pleasure of sex can offer? Why can't he love her spirit ee-nuff to trust it, even if she partners for the common joy of sex with another?"

"I-I dunno. I guess I always thought—"

"Stop thinking. It hurts you."

"Hey!"

Allesandra rolled her eyes. "I dee-dun't mean it like that," she huffed, grasping my chin and turning me to face her paralyzing gaze. "Aldo likes to find me laden with another's seed still fresh and flowing from inside me. He enjoys the feel of it coating my insides to sleeken his hot pole."

"He likes...sloppy seconds?"

"Call it whut you like," she answered. "He is nut afraid of my needs. He triumphs in outdoing any man who takes me by mooting their offering weeth his own." Sliding the straps of her sundress off her shoulders, she let it fall to her feet.

For six sacred but disjoint hours, I had studied every bend and camber—every nuance of her precious figure. But a single membrane of flowery fabric had hidden the profound glory of her naked actuality. I knew the delicate curvatures defining her tummy, but had only imagined the soft bronze skin adorning the pea sized pit of her navel. A few inches south, a bikini-trimmed sandy bush crowned her pubic dimple between delightful creases at the junction of her legs and pelvis. "Can't argue with that," I droned.

Allesandra turned to face me and moved in until her tummy brushed the tingling protrusion in my pants. "Take me, Sari," she whispered. "Or go home to thee wife who cheats behind your back."

I kicked out of my well-worn deck shoes, fighting not to whimper as she brought her nose an inch from mine—fingers raking down my side and lips brushing mine. Working under both my waistbands, she dropped my shorts and boxers to free my aching shaft with a deliberate thrust.

The prowess of my own cock amazed me—deep red with hardy fill and sculpted so rigid it looked chiseled from pipestone. It stood proud at a stiff upward angle, far less fearful than I was to be in Allesandra's naked presence. I had never known such ardent girth or seen such definition of the veins mapping its length. Kicking my pants aside, I wondered for a frightened instant if some overworked blood vessel might rupture inside it.

Grasping it palm up like a forged tool, Allesandra kissed my chin. "I want to feel you in my eentimate passage," she whispered. "Leave your seed inside me."

Pressing my chest to hers, I reveled in the poke of her erect nipples tickling my chest and the warmth of her belly against my rigid staff. With her glossy mouth open ever so slightly, she angled her head. Time and space seemed to fold into a pocket of idyllic bliss as my lips met hers and our tongues danced. Raking her fingers through my hair, she drew back and shot a warning glare straight into my soul. "Be carefool of keesses, Sah-ri," she warned. "I invited you to have sex with me. Making love changes everything."

Half understanding her meaning, I placed my palms on the tops of her shoulders, then around the base of her neck. For the first time, I saw something less than ageless acumen in her gaze. Beautiful as she was, her humanity shone through. I followed the angle of her jaw with my thumbs, then offered a daring kiss to her lower lip. Closing her eyes, she let out a soft moan. "Do that again," she pleaded.

I obliged, gently sucking and dashing my tongue over it. If she'd had fingernails to speak of, they would have pierced my skin as she dug her fingers into my back. "I warned you," she groaned before lunging forward and pressing her open mouth to mine. Cooing into my mouth, she slid her palms down my back and onto my buttocks—her tongue thrashing against mine.

She stopped so fast I wound up sucking her lips into my mouth. With a nervous laugh, I offered my neck to her kisses. Her nipples tickled their way down my chest and belly, poking against my thighs as she knelt. Sitting back on her heels, she grasped my cock mid-shaft and looked up at me—mouth open just enough to let me peer inside it.

I managed to pull in a breath before she bathed my bulb in moist warmth and flicked her tongue on its underside. Me—the guy whose wife didn't wait till middle-age to cheat on him—stood in a stately home with a should-be super model's lips wrapped firm around my girth.

Allesandra hummed, welcoming the dry pulses my shaft thumped to the beat of her tongue. Popping it out of her mouth, she kissed the tip and stood face to face with me. "Follow me," she whispered. "Make me yours for a short while."

Damn near tripping over my shoes, I followed her angelic form through an arched doorway into a large but sparsely appointed living room. The only furniture was a slip-covered futon and lounge chair facing an entertainment center on a small but plush rug. Allesandra wasted no time. She dropped to her knees on the floor and leaned on the cushion of the chair, rolling her hips.