Maybe Later 05: One Queen

Maybe Later

Continuing a tale of three fantasies: A rewarding life can be lived without a partner, a satisfying life can be lived without sex, and deserved rewards always await those who are patient.

*

Louann recommended "Phil's Fish Market and Eatery," down on the wharf, as they returned to Moss Landing late in the afternoon. "I've eaten here often," she said, "and all my friends come here. Everybody loves it!"

Led to a table in a quiet corner, they each ordered a glass of Campari. Brett studied the menu for a moment. Louann studied Brett. "The Salmon Marsala looks good," he considered. "But what do you recommend? Do they have any specialties?"

"Oh no, Brett, you've got to have their Cioppino! It's to die for," she urged. "That's what I'm having."

"Cioppino? What in blazes is Cioppino?" the Connecticut Yankee asked.

"It's a fish stew," she replied. "It's made from crabs and mussels and scallops and shrimp, together with whatever fish happens to be the catch-du-jour. I'm going to get the lazy man's version -- it comes with the seafood shelled and the crab legs cracked. Otherwise you better make sure you get a bib!" Then she smiled, "You'll get the bib -- and the tools -- even if you don't ask."

"Sounds adventurous," he commented. "OK, Cioppino for two it is then."

After placing their orders, Brett suggested checking in with Linda back home in New England. "It must be nearly 8:30 there," he said as he glanced at his watch.

Louann was wide-eyed. "How much are you going to tell her?" she said with a look of surprise. Brett winked.

"Hi Lin," he began at length. "How was your day?"

"Hi Brett," his wife answered. "Hey, it was a day, sort of like all the rest, nothing special. What are you guys up to?"

He filled her in with a quick summary of their Big Sur drive.

"Sounds like you had a good time," Linda said. "What are you planning for the evening?"

"We're going to pick up movie or something -- oops, Louann's shaking her head... I think she's already got one," Brett responded. "I think I wore out your sister today, walking all over Point Sur. Hey, I'm going to hand this off to her. She'll fill you in on the details. Love you, Lin!"

"Love you, too, Brett," Linda said. "Just think, it's like you two are having your birthday dinner together. You two have a great night together." That weird tingling started again, but Linda willed it away.

"OK, kid. Here's your sister," he said, and with that he handed the cell phone off to his table mate. What's with the birthday crap? he thought.

Louann and her sister talked for several minutes. Brett studied his sister-in-law as he sipped his wine. Impressive woman, he concluded.

As she handed Brett's cell phone back to him, she looked perplexed, and if she questioned what she had just heard.

>>>>> 0 <<<<<

Louann and Brett quietly sipped their after-dinner wine. He reached across the table and took her hands in his. "Louann," he asked, "I think this is a good time and place to talk about some things."

"That damn elephant again?" she grinned.

"Yeah, and it's a whole herd of them by now."

Brett looked down at her hands tenderly clasped in his. Beautiful hands, hands over which he had long fantasized. His wedding ring glinted in the softened light of their isolated booth.

Louann was touched by the tender moment as she waited while he struggled for words. Silently she was thankful she hadn't taken the lead in this needed conversation.

"I have a problem," he began. "I think you have one too." He raised his eyes now to meet hers.

"There's an incredible woman seated across from me, one whom I am blessed to have had accompany me on an unbelievably great day, one whom I find stunningly attractive."

Louann felt tears coming to her eyes. No one had ever spoken so earnestly to her, not Antonio, no one.

"But as blessed as I am, I am damned that the incredible woman is not my wife. Worse, she's the sister of my wife!" Brett's eyes brimmed now with tears.

Amid the tears, they leaned across the small table and brushed each other's lips.

"Louann," he said, "would it be more comfortable for both of us if I booked myself in at the Captain's Inn back there? Their sign said there was still a vacancy when we came in here."

Brett had offered an out. They had both danced around the fidelity issue last evening, they had tested it today, and it would doubtless hang over them this evening.

Louann knew in an instant what her answer would be. Looking him straight in the eye, she didn't flinch. "Nope. You're my house guest. I don't think that will be needed. We're mature adults who can control ourselves." But in her heart she wasn't so certain. A conspiratorial smile crept across her face and she shot him her signature raised eyebrow.

Brett grinned in return. It was the response he had hoped for.

Linda's closing wish hung in her sister's mind all through dinner. Now, as they drove toward Louann's home, she mentioned it to Brett, "After she told me she loved me, she said something about celebrating our birthdays, and hoping we have a great night together. She almost sounded wistful."

"Hmmm," Brett said, "she said the same thing to me, just before I handed you the phone. But I think she just wishes she was here, too."

"No I don't think so, Brett. It was almost like she wanted us to have... um, to ah..." Louann knew her face was getting red in the twilight as she tried to say to have sex. She recovered and continued, "It's as if she knew about last evening. This afternoon, too. Am I reading too much into what she said -- or has she set us up?" Louann mused aloud. It's as if Linda knows what might happen... as if she wants it to happen!

"Wow, I hadn't considered that interpretation," he said. "You could certainly think that."

"It's like she has been setting us up," Louann contemplated. Brett slowly shook his head in wonder. Perhaps Louann is right, he thought. Does Linda know what I'm thinking? Man, that's spooky!

Handing Brett the "Elizabeth" video she picked up on her way to San Jose to meet him, Louann said, "Hey, you're a clever guy. Get this going." While he fiddled with her TV and video player, she got down two glasses and poured them each a wine.

"Shall I make some popcorn or something?" she asked.

"Not on my account," Brett replied, "but don't let me stop you if you want some."

"Hey Brett," Louann queried, "would you mind if I took a couple of minutes for a quick shower before we sit down for the evening?"

"Mind? Hell, no! In fact, I could help. I could wash your back. And stuff."

Louann fixed him with what she hoped was an alluring smile, "Hmmm... Maybe later," she mused.

Louann's mind wandered as she basked in the warmth of her shower. Much as she would hate to admit it, she was as nervous as she was excited. She began to think that "Maybe later" might be very soon now. Her mouth went dry, grasping that the virginity she had guarded so valiantly since her early teens might possibly soon be bestowed on the man in her living room. Oh Louann, she thought, don't even think of such a thing. That man is your sister's husband! What about the unspoken bond with your sister?

Yet still, she reasoned, Linda seems to have abandoned the intimacy part of her marriage to Brett. She had seen evidence of it, and Brett had confirmed its reality today.

Quietly she wondered, if Brett again showed any interest, would she welcome him with the single, most personal gift she had to offer, that of herself?

Louann's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she was light-headed and weak-kneed. She giddily washed her body, and wherever she touched rejoiced in anticipation.

She glanced in the mirror as she dried herself and tried to imagine what a guy, what Brett, could find attractive about her. Don't worry about it, Lou, she assured herself, remembering what went on all day, it's obvious he likes what he sees. She applied deodorant under each arm, then reached for her favorite fragrance, dabbing a little under each breast. Then, with a wicked grin, she dabbed a drop into her pussy hair.

Brett sipped his wine in the quiet den. Faintly he could hear water running, then, not long after the water stopped, something else, something unfamiliar. It certainly sounded like Louann might be humming, something he had never heard before.

Life just isn't fair, he mused. Three thousand miles away, there's a woman who absolutely abhors sex, and thirty feet away there's a woman who, unless I'm kidding myself, would dearly love to have sex.

I'm in the middle, he considered. I'm married to the distant woman, the woman to whom I'm bound by my wedding vows. But that attractive woman in the other room is, I think, attracted to me. And, truth be known, she looks pretty darned good to me too.

Linda's words echoed again in Brett's conscience. "Happy birthday, and have a great night together," were her parting words a couple of hours ago.

Louann soon returned, now in her pajamas and that frowsy robe from this morning. "Wow," Brett said softly, "you smell great! But there sure aren't any pretenses about that robe. You must love the heck out of that old veteran." She smiled as she sat near the end of her couch. Seated already at the other end, Brett started the movie.

Neither Louann nor her guest followed the movie too closely, only vaguely aware of Cate Blanchette's and Ralph Fiennes' flirtation and play as Elizabeth became The Virgin Queen. Louann replayed in her mind the hugs and kisses as they walked Point Sur, she felt once again the touch of Brett's hands through her clothing on her breasts. She remembered the bulge in Brett's pants, a genuine and unambiguous affirmation, by a person she respected, of her sexuality, something she had questioned in her advancing age. She tingled all over again, and she was sure she was damp once again, though she had been completely dry after the shower a few moments earlier.

Brett, too, was soon in reverie. He remembered the joy of her hands, those hands he found so incredibly sensual, as they touched his neck and his arms. He remembered the press of her generous breasts against his chest as they hugged. He recalled the saucy repartee as she urged him to adjust his equipment there on the Point. His pecker remembered, too, rising and straining and ready once again. Oh man! he thought. I ought to excuse myself for a shower, too, he thought, a quick cold one!

Alright, he thought, let's make a move and see where it takes us. He took another sip of his wine, actually more a gulp than the sip he had planned. As he tried to keep from choking, and thinking he might distract her while he tried to adjust himself, Brett flopped down on his side, his head pillowed by Louann's thigh.

Louann struggled to appear calm and collected as she absent-mindedly tried to watch the video on her TV. She picked up "Elizabeth" the day before, on the way to pick up her sister's husband, knowing that Brett, like her, was interested in historical things. Her mind, however, raced to collect her thoughts, for Brett, her brother-in-law of twenty-odd years, lay next to her, his head on her lap.

"For God's sake, don't fart," he said as he plopped his head onto her thigh.

Louann laughed, as much to mask her surprise at his action as at his attempt at humor. "OK," she said, "but you have to promise not to bite anything." Indeed, she noticed that her right breast hung within easy striking range of his smile. At the thought, she felt her nipples stiffen against her clothing.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "I'm not sure I can promise that." Then, straining to see around her generous bust, Brett caught her eyes and added, with a devilish grin, "But if I can't control myself, I promise only to nibble."

After a moment, he shifted onto his side so he could see the movie, and as he did, he nudged her breast with the back of his head. Louann wasn't certain, but it looked like Brett tried to mask something in his pants as he rolled to face the TV. Louann wondered if the nudge was intended. Part of her, at least, hoped it was.

Hmm, Brett thought, as the back of his head brushed her boob, she's got a bra on under her pajama top. Why would she do that? Then he thought of his Aunt Callie. She had big boobs, and his mom had chuckled that Aunt Callie wore a bra to bed so as not to smother poor Uncle John during the night. He hadn't understood what Mom meant at the time.

Louann flinched as he dropped his head onto her thigh, and he worried that he'd screwed up with that move. But as he rolled onto his side once more to watch the movie, she relaxed, and so did he. After a few moments he began to softly caress her thigh, at least what he could reach, with his free hand.

Damn, he thought to himself, this isn't very comfortable. Indeed, he was lying partly on his arm, and he knew it would go to sleep pretty soon.

Louann could feel Brett's breath on her thigh, and his hand stroking her knee was heavenly. But they were driving her nearly crazy. She reached for the controller and raised the volume a little and tried to focus on Elizabeth Regina. Regina? Vagina! Oh crap! she thought.

Without even noticing she was doing it, she started stroke Brett's hair. And ear. And cheek. Now it was Brett who approached craziness.

Louann, the retired business leader, reached again for the controller and took a deep breath. After a moment, Louann, the newly sexual woman, clicked off the Virgin Queen. One virgin queen at a time in this room is enough, she decided.

Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Brett, do you remember the night when you and Linda were dating and you kissed her belly button?"

Brett froze for a second, wondering first what she knew about that night, and second, where in the world she was going. He spun around onto his back and tried to remember that time, thirty years or so ago. "Umm, yeah, I think so."

Louann's right boob was just above his nose, and Brett realized that if he raised his head a smidgin he could actually nibble her nipple, however many layers of clothing lay between it and his lips. "What brought that up? How did you know? What do you know?"

She ignored his questions. "When she got home that night, she was so excited that she had to tell somebody. I have thought about what she told me ever since," she continued, softly and slowly. She quickly added, "And if you dare call it obsessing, you may go to your room right now!" Grinning, she pinched his cheek as a warning.

As he peered past that distracting protrusion, he thought, Humph, isn't that how you define obsession? but he decided it might be fun to let it go and see where this was leading. "How she squirmed and squealed!" he recalled with a smile.

"OK, buddy," Louann informed him, "first, you need to sit up, right near me here." She patted the couch beside her. "And second, you gotta promise not to tell anybody." It occurred to her that she was about to break the same promise that Linda asked of her those many years ago. However sobering the thought was, she continued with resolve.

Brett snuggled up next to her and nodded, dumbstruck by what was happening.

"What we're going to do is the same thing you did with Linda back then," she instructed.

"I remember well that I came away with as bad a case of blue balls as I ever had." As an afterthought, he added with a grin, "until today, I mean."

"Umm, I'm not sure how to answer that, sailor," Louann smiled. "Maybe later," she added with a throaty chuckle.

With that, she grasped the back of his neck with those hands that drove him crazy, and drew his lips to hers in a fervent and hopeful embrace. Brett wrapped his arms around her as he returned the embrace with equal ardor. It was a kiss without end, as if they had never kissed before, and as if they had kissed forever. Their tongues touched, hesitant at first, then with a frenzy of passion.

As they broke for a breath of air, Brett's lips found her cheek, then her earlobe.

"No," Louann whispered, "eyelids next, please."

Brett was puzzled but readily complied, and touched his lips first to one eyelid then the other.

"Now the earlobes?" he asked. A ragged moan was his answer, and he again kissed a ring-adorned earlobe. From there he kissed her neck, firmly under her hair, then tenderly under her chin.

"You're doing fine, sailor," Louann approved, and kissed Brett's forehead, at the moment all her lips could reach. She began to slip sideways on the couch. As Brett followed, he fell atop her, and his lips now encountered the collar and top buttons of her pajama top. He tried pushing past the obstruction, pressing his kisses through the light fabric of the top.

In a flash of inspiration, he closed his teeth around the top button to bite it off, but Louann gently pushed him away. As he straightened up a bit, she fixed her eyes on his and slowly unbuttoned the top button.

"Care to help?" she asked.

It was Brett's turn to growl and nod his head. He reached a hand to each lapel of the flimsy top and was about to rip it apart when she stopped him.

"Whoa, slow down there, cowboy. I may want to wear this old rag again sometime."

Brett grinned and quickly unbuttoned the rest of the buttons.

Louann felt a thrill course through her body. As nearly as she could remember, this was just the way Linda had described it so long ago.

Brett continued to attack with fiery lips on the tops of her breasts. Hmmm, he puzzled to himself, I wonder what her memory says about this damned bra.

Louann had closed her eyes and leaned back in ecstasy. This is where he's supposed to fumble with my bra, then I'll help him by taking it off. She nearly giggled aloud in anticipation.

Brett leaned back, looking in awe for a second at the valley of cleavage he was greeted with and the generous, soft orbs of skin it lay between. He caught sight of a stray drop of sweat running down Louann's chest, into that very valley, and leaned forward to catch it on his tongue, licking upwards and following its path upward to her neck. He marveled at how even Louann's sweat seemed sweet.

He continued to nuzzle the unyielding brassiere awaiting a clue from his director. He remembered the desire he had harbored for so long, that he wanted to squeeze and suck and nip those tits, and now, so near that goal, frustration was mounting. Neither hearing nor sensing a suggestion, he lifted the bottom of Louann's bra and slid his hands underneath to cup her waiting breasts.

"No, no," Louann cried, "take it off. You're supposed to take it off!" With that, she arched her back, and he slid his hands behind her and easily undid the clasp. Brett's nose was buried against her sternum, deep between her still large breasts, just as Louann imagined so long ago, and she was still right even at her almost fifty years.

Oh crap, Louann thought. I was supposed to help him with the clasp. But the feel of his hands caressing her breasts and the surprise of his tongue sweeping up her chest more than made up for the deviation from the script.

"Hang on a minute," she said breathlessly. "Would you go turn that light off? I guess I'm an old prude, but I'm not quite comfortable undressing in front of you." She thought to add, I don't remember ever having undressed in front of anybody since Linda was my roommate back home.

Brett tried to avert his eyes as he stood up but couldn't help glance down on his slightly disheveled sister-in-law. Inwardly he chuckled, for her rumpled robe had slipped and wrapped around her throat, her open pajama top revealed her bra up around her neck, and her pajama bottoms had ridden up past her knees and showed a well-defined camel toe at her crotch. Ow, he thought, that can't be very comfortable!