Paula
byalwayswantedto©

All characters are 18 years or older.

This story is a bit different for me. There is only a smattering of incest and it's not mom/son. Also, if you don't like cheating wives, don't read further.

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"You'll love England," my boss said, sweeping aside my reservations in three simple words. "Besides," he added, "it will be good for you to get away."

I couldn't argue with that. Linda had passed away four years ago and, despite my detached response, my friends hadn't tired of trying to hook me up. They understood that Linda had been my soul mate but kept trotting out women they thought would be a suitable replacement. Bless their souls, they only wanted to save me from depression but they had no idea what Linda was really like, so the women they served up though attractive, weren't a match for me.

True, on the outside, they seemed a perfect fit but how could our friends know Linda was more than the quiet, thoughtful woman they thought she was. Her erotic tastes would blown them away. But Linda had been a very private person and I couldn't betray her true self to anyone, no matter how lonely I was. God, how I missed her.

"And don't worry about the sales thing. Just let Mike take the lead. When he needs some substance, he'll let you know. Give them the technical pitch and when their senior people start to glaze over, he'll take over again. He's a super salesman."

I nodded. I didn't like it but I didn't have much choice. I could hardly quit after fifteen years with the company, especially in the current job market.

"You'll love it at Mike's place. His wife is super, his kids are nice, and the countryside is amazing. Very peaceful. If you can't relax there, you can't relax anywhere. So go, don't work too hard, and enjoy yourself."

Parker was holding the door open. I was being dismissed. "Molly has your tickets," he said, slapping me on the back. "Have a good trip, Pete."

I hated being called Pete. The door closed and Molly picked up the tickets from her desk, holding her hand out for me to take them.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

She smiled sympathetically, having witnessed many apprehensive visitors emerge in the same state as me, having survived the whirlwind and still wondering what the hell had happened.

I tread silently through the thick carpet to the wood paneled elevator. On the way down, I cursed myself for not even mentioning my quartering at the super salesman's home. I didn't want to work with a sales rep but couldn't argue that I was the company's most experienced person to send for technical support. But to stay in his home? That was too much. I could barely stand being around sales types for ten minutes let alone day and night. And his poor wife. I'm sure she wasn't happy about having to lodge her husband's co-worker for an extended period. She might have to tolerate accommodating his boss, but some jerk techie?

This was going to be a disaster. Hopefully this super salesman, Mike Entwhistle, would be happy to see me stay at a local hotel and keep quiet about it. I'd take it up with him as soon as he met me at the airport.

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I picked up my bags and cleared customs, irked that the Eurozone types were processed quickly by half a dozen agents while the rest of us suffered through just two. Eventually, I emerged from the secure area and was immediately greeted by Mike. Effusive would be too muted a description for his welcome. I tried to raise the issue of a hotel but Mike would have none of it.

"Oh no, Paula's quite keen to meet you. Not our usual kind of guest, you know, and all that."

"But it's such an imposition. I know what Parker's like," I began, but Mike cut me off.

"Nonsense, it was my idea. We need to get to know one another if we're to be a team for the next few months. Go, go go."

God, it's going to be worse than I thought.

As if to make his point, Mike drove even faster, zipping the BMW past cottages on the narrow rural road and careening recklessly through blind corners. Somehow, despite cars zooming the other way at similar speeds and meeting us at the apex of the corners, we managed to avoid a collision. How Mike spared any attention for driving was a mystery because he talked the whole time and spent most of it emphasizing points or noting historical landmarks rather than watching where he was going.

It was relief when we finally pulled through a stone gateway and drove up a winding lane through a thick set of trees before emerging onto a set of rolling hills surrounding a very large, white-with-brown-strappings, round-roofed, tudor manor house with matching stables and garage. White fences divided pastures occupied with sheep and horses but it was the workmen wearing ties and the late model Jag and Land Rover parked in front of the three-car garage that completed the picture of the gentleman's pastoral residence.

Wow. I knew Mike was the company's premier international salesman but I was surprised that he could afford a place like this so near London. The company must pay its international sales people well and I wondered if Parker would divert some of this largesse to me. Probably not, given the way he painted my trip as a perk for me.

Mike's wife exited the stables just as we pulled into the empty third spot in front of the garage. I was stunned by how similar she was in appearance and manner to Linda. Paula quietly allowed her husband to finish his effusive introductions, then offered her hand accompanied by a smile that, while reserved, wasn't aloof. If anything, her demeanor was similar to Molly's around Parker and I felt a sense of kinship, as if we were victims suffering through the presence of an over-the-top personality. I liked her immediately.

Paula had dark hair in contrast to Linda's blonde but it was worn in the same cute, short style popularized by Meg Ryan. Her body was slender, like Linda's, with small but pert breasts suited to her frame and longish legs despite being as much shorter than me as I was compared to her husband.

Mike called for a stable hand to get my bags from the 'boot' but I insisted on carrying them myself which seemed to please the man and, I was happy to note, Mrs. Entwhistle. I surmised that Mike treatment the employees as servants wasn't popular. He took a call on his cell and walked briskly ahead of us to the house, through the entranceway and into the large living room, which was enclosed by dark beams, a stone fireplace, and many cross-hatched windows.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Mrs. Entwhistle," I said as we followed Mike into the house. She turned and was about to speak but I rushed on to make my point. "I would really be quite happy at a local hotel but your husband whisked by them and wouldn't stop."

"Oh no, Mr. Briggs, you're most welcome here. I've been looking forward to your stay. It will be nice to have something new to talk about at dinner."

Her smile convinced me that perhaps I wouldn't be a burden after all.

"Please, call me Peter."

She offered her hand to me and I took it in mine, noting how warm and soft it was as she spoke.

"And I'm Paula, not Mrs. Entwhistle."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, in as genteel a manner as I could muster. I hoped the smile that ensued wasn't mocking me.

"Let me show you to your room."

Paula led the way to a wide stairway with dark, glossy banisters leading to a landing and then turned at a right angle to rise to the second floor, at least twelve feet above the first. A narrower set of stairs led to another floor but we walked down a hallway to the third door on the left, which was the only one that was open.

"This is your room. Please let me know if you would prefer another. The facilities are across the hall."

The room was large and ornate, antique furniture filling the space beneath the ten foot ceiling. There was a large, almost floor-to-ceiling window opening onto the fields beyond. Sun spilled through it and glowed around Paula.

"This will be splendid," I said, for some reason trying to speak 'English' but thankfully not attempting to replicate the accent.

I was treated to the muted smile and again worried that she was mocking me.

"Well then. I'll leave you to get unpacked. Please come down whenever you're ready, but don't feel obliged. I'm sure you must be tired."

Paula left, pulling the door closed behind her almost all the way. I shifted my laptop bag off my shoulder and lowered it onto the chair sitting in front of the antique desk and then lifted my suitcase onto the bed. As I unpacked, placing my socks and underwear on the shelves of the ornately decorated wardrobe and hanging the rest, I replayed the whole arrival in my head.

I lingered on the first sight of Paula and realized only then that I'd been captivated from the moment she appeared. Details of the yard, house, and all else except for the stables immediately behind her, were lost. But I could visualize the brown riding jacket and the design on the white blouse showing between its open lapels in great detail, including the swollen rise of her low-slung breasts. I hoped I hadn't been caught allowing my gaze to wander down her front but knew, after the fact, that I had lingered there too long. How gracious of her not to note any displeasure.

The rest of the trip to the house was vague except for a few images of her smiling face highlighted against the backdrop of the entrance hallway. Then we were climbing the stairs with her husband's voice banging away despite originating at the far end of the living room. I hadn't noticed how loudly he had been speaking but the din faded into the background as my gaze latched onto the fancy riding breeches in front of me stretched over a simply delectable posterior. The tight breeches left little to the imagination. Mrs. Entwhistle—referring to her more formally somehow made me feel that gawking at her bottom was less rude—had an ass worthy of Hollywood.

I hadn't had the opportunity to scrutinize such a fine ass since Linda passed away and, even upon close examination, was unable to detect any marked dissimilarities from my wife's most appreciated asset. The stairs took a long time to ascend and I realized, somewhat embarrassingly, that Paula hadn't once looked back. I wondered if she knew I was inappropriately assessing her delicious bottom and thought the best way to handle was to pretend it wasn't happening.

But then, why wouldn't she have quickened her pace? She had climbed the stairs so slowly, talking casually about the things she hoped I would have the time to see on the estate during my stay, but never posed a question or framed a sentence in a way that would require a response from me. Could it be she enjoyed the attention? God only knows, her husband wasn't one to pay attention to much other than himself.

I re-focused my own attention and replayed the trip up the stairs again. The tan-colored riding breeches perfectly outlined Paula's lovely bottom, emphasizing first one and then the other buttock while never fully relieving either of its intriguing form. And, though each cheek was thoroughly outlined with each step, neither was so lewdly displayed as to reveal a vulgar crease dividing the two. Instead, one side of her pants bulged and then sagged as the swelling was transferred to the other.

As each buttock blossomed, the leg below tensed into its own muscular definition, at least down to the knee where the riding boot hid the rest. At the landing, Paula quickly crossed to the next flight of stairs, then slowed for the rise to the second floor. I sensed my disappointment, not originally noted, when the stairs had been fully traversed but knew that it was a feeling I had actually experienced.

I sighed, and sat down on the Edwardian chair next to the bed. My god, Linda. I miss you so much. Could He be so cruel as to introduce someone who could, while not replacing you, be capable of making me happy, except she was already committed to someone else?

I sat for some time, feeling more depressed than I did at home, until the beep of my watch signaled the top of the hour and galvanized me into visiting the bathroom. It was large but thoroughly modern, having been upgraded with the latest in fine European fixtures and conveniences. I freshened myself and headed downstairs, hoping my delay wasn't rude.

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The kitchen was even more modern than the bathroom. It was large, with the latest in sleek cupboard and counter designs, outfitted with a large central island and appliances that blended into the walls. Neither Mike nor Paula were there. The room was staffed with two cooks, both busy preparing a meal.

"Your presence is requested on the patio," I was told, with an arm directing me through the dining room.

I walked past the long table and a dozen chairs to the open French glass doors. Paula was sitting one of two lounges, gazing at the serene countryside. The other was empty. She turned and smiled at me.

"Thank you for joining me," she said, indicating the empty lounge. "Michael had to go into the office," she explained her husband's absence, "and probably won't make it back for dinner."

"Oh. He should have called me."

"Michael loves to work but you should relax and get some rest after traveling all day."

"Well, I confess, it would be hard to tear myself away from all this."

"It is lovely, isn't it?"

"It certainly is. You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Ent…Paula."

She seemed pleased that I had caught myself and used her Christian name.

"Please, help yourself to the wine."

I poured myself a glass and topped up Paula's when she extended it toward me. Only then did I notice that the riding jacket had been removed. She shielded her eyes from the sun which allowed me to examine the silky white blouse closely. As I remembered, her breasts—now looking larger than they had first appeared—were slung low on her chest and had a tendency to bulge sideways. The silky white material settled pleasingly over that bulk. I detected the presence of an underlying bra but one made of equally delicate material incapable of real imprisonment.

"Do you like gently rolling hills, Peter?"

For a moment, I thought she was making a sly remark about my attention to her chest until I realized she was far too classy for that.

"Yes, I believe I do," I answered, settling into the empty lounge beside her.

The feet of the lounges were angled toward each other and each had its own table beside it. The orientation allowed people to converse if they pleased but didn't force it upon them. Paula surveyed her estate, a view she must be thoroughly familiar with, and I did too, but soon found my attention settling on an equally pleasing vista nearer to me.

We spoke occasionally, about the estate and its animals; mostly about the horses which were clearly a favorite of my host's. She told me how pleasant and satisfying it was to ride through the countryside, communing with nature. As with the ascension of the stairs, Paula never looked toward me, as if she didn't want to interrupt my appreciation of the property. Or did she know I was enjoying something else? Was I that obvious?

We weren't disturbed until the children arrived home from school. Paula hadn't looked my way until they burst through the glass doors to greet their mother. They were wonderful kids, polite and well-groomed, and both bore a strong resemblance to Paula. In fact, there wasn't a recognizable linkage to Mike at all. After they left, Paula commented on my obvious confusion.

"They're from my first marriage."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, I didn't mean to pry…"

"It's alright," Paula said.

I loved the tinkle of true mirth and felt pleased that, through my awkwardness, I had made her laugh. Bringing pleasure, however minor, to this intriguing woman felt very good and for the first time I thanked Parker for sending me here.

We talked while we finished our wine and, this time, Paula gave me her full attention. We sat for a while after that in silence, each surveying the beauty before us, and listened to the sounds of the birds and the odd bleat of a sheep or snort of a horse. I actually did look at the countryside to belatedly grant this lovely woman her privacy. Eventually Paula reluctantly got up, sighed, and announced that it was time for her to change for dinner. I started to get up but she motioned for me to stay put.

"Should I get changed?"

"No, you're fine just the way your are. Enjoy the scenery. I'll call when dinner is served."

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Paula's daughter Christina woke me with a touch on the shoulder. I guess the long flight had taken its toll and I had fallen asleep on the lounge. When I joined the others in the dining room I saw that Paula had put on a nice dress that fit her body well without being too snug. Though not a fancy affair, it seemed elegant nonetheless.

Dinner conversation with Paula, Mark and Christina was lively. They had obviously been well-educated in fine schools and I was surprised how varied their interests were and the extent of their knowledge. Their mother was quietly proud, as she should have been. Linda and I hadn't had children, a decision I now regretted.

During dinner, Mark discovered that I was a chemical engineer and not a salesman. I had the sense that Paula already knew this but she pursued it as if she hadn't known and got me to agree that being a chemical engineer was a vocation but not my true calling. A career in classical music had been my dream but I succumbed to my father's pressure and completed two degrees in engineering so I could earn a living. It wasn't until I met Linda that I returned to music, playing in the symphony part-time and even taking bit roles in plays at the local theatre. Linda had made me come alive.

Twice during dinner, I mentioned Mike, and both children stiffened and lapsed into silence. Paula smoothed over the awkward moments but it was clear to me that the children did not have a warm relationship with their step-father. The children stayed for dessert and didn't leave until their mother bade them do their homework. By then, we were sitting in the living room in front of a small but nice fire burning in the stone fireplace. When they were gone, Paula asked me if I'd like to join her on the patio for a port. I gladly accepted.

Blankets had been set out on the lounges. We settled upon them and Paula had just covered her feet with a partially folded blanket to ward off the chill when the port arrived. As in the afternoon, Paula sipped her drink and stared off into the night. Although there was no birdsong, the occasional sound from a farm animal could still be heard. In the light from the living room, I could see the outline of Paula's body and, though her legs were covered, the gentle slope of her breasts was discernible.

"They like you," Paula said.

"Excuse me?"

"The kids. They haven't engaged with a guest like that since…I don't know when."

"Oh."

"I don't think I ever had to force them to leave the table when one of Michael's colleagues was here."

"They didn't seem to be forced."

Paula laughed but didn't look at me.

"They have good instincts."

I didn't know what to say. It was an enormous compliment and I took it that way, but it left me speechless. I wanted to respond but couldn't think of anything worthy to say. So I stayed silent, and looked into the night.

I was uncomfortable being labeled as Mike's colleague and was about clarify our relationship when Paula drew her knees up, causing the blanket to cascade down her legs. I held my tongue and admired the curve of her slender calves instead. I was so engrossed that I was caught off guard when she spoke.

"Were you close to your wife?"

I was surprised by the question from a near stranger but, in this case, wasn't offended. I felt Paula knew the answer already and was simply seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I was."

I shifted my gaze away from Paula's legs, expecting her to turn around to face me, but she didn't. Instead, she continued her odd habit of looking away.

"It's nice being so close to someone. I miss it."

I didn't respond because I thought it would be prying into her and Mike's relationship but Paula continued anyway.

"I was very close to my husband."

I presumed she was talking about her first husband, the father of her childred, and not Mike, but I didn't reply.

"It's rare for two people to truly know each other well."

It was a statement rather than a question but I nodded anyway, which was silly, given she was looking into the darkness, but it didn't seem to matter.

"Were you and your wife close like that? I mean, truly intimate?"

"Um, yes. I guess we were."

"Michael isn't close to anyone. Oh, I know he loves me, but it isn't in him to be truly close to anyone."

I held my tongue. I didn't want to get involved in marital discord no matter how kind and intriguing my hostess. Paula used her right foot to scratch an apparent itch on the back of her left calf. Knocking the shoe off her right foot, she brought it behind the left and used the top of her toes to scratch her leg. Much too soon for me, she bumped the sandal off her left foot and used it to scratch the back of the right leg.

Paula put her glass down and leaned forward, pressed her breasts against her raised thighs, and ran her hands down the top of her lower legs to her now bare feet. I enjoyed watching her hands slide down her legs and her toes curl upon their approach. She turned her head to rest it on her knees, and looked at me, catching me in the act. She smiled, a pleasant, inviting smile.

"Did you do special things for her, Peter?" Her voice was husky and warm.

"I supported her causes, went to the opera, remembered all our anniversaries, that sort of thing."

Paula smiled and her eyes twinkled. I knew that wasn't what she was talking about but she let it go.

"You seem to be a very nice man. I'm sure you did all that and more."

"I did my best to please her."

Paula rubbed her hands along the length of her calves. "And, I imagine, she for you."

I was glad that she turned her head away so I could digest her words without scrutiny. They could be interpreted on a superficial level but the forward flex of Paula's body, the hands running down her legs, the press of her head upon her thighs, and the depth of her eyes when she finally turned to look at me, placed the conversation on a level of intimacy that I hadn't experienced with a woman since Linda had passed. Startled, I realized I was aroused and instinctively brought my hands together over my lap. Paula leaned back, picked up her port, and stood up. I heard someone greet Mike inside the house.

"It's late," she said. Most of her weight was placed on her right foot which pushed her hip to the side. "I hope you didn't mind me prying, Peter, but I get a little melancholy when Michael works late, which is a sometimes too often and others not enough," she said with a wistful smile.

I stood up myself, to be polite, and instantly regretted it when my condition became evident. However, Paula didn't seem to notice. She bid me goodnight and surprised me as she passed by, pausing to briefly brush her lips on my cheek. I watched her go, marveling at the flexibility of her legs and the way her buttocks kicked the dress to the side as she walked away in bare feet. From the back, she looked so much like Linda.

I sat down and finished my port. Mike didn't come out to the patio and I was thankfully left alone with my thoughts. I couldn't match this woman, so frankly intimate, with the reserved lady I had met in the afternoon, or either one with Mike. As the day had progressed, she had become steadily warmer and more personable. At least, she had after I met the children.

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For the rest of the week, I went to the office with Mike. I met the sales staff but except for a few brief sessions, I was left pretty much alone. The salesmen didn't hang out together much and only met to trade stories if they encountered someone while getting coffee. They were like sharks circling one other and all of them, Mike included, were threatened by technical people while simultaneously, and paradoxically, feeling superior to them. I was tolerated only because Parker had sent me.

I saw Paula and the kids at dinner but, in Mike's presence, the lively dinner discussion wasn't repeated and neither was the frank conversation with Paula later in the evening. However, a more intriguing set of events did occur later in the evening after everyone had gone to bed.

On Tuesday, I awoke in the middle of the night, which wasn't surprising since I was never comfortable sleeping in a strange bed. I sat up and turned to put my feet on the floor. It was then that I noticed a light under the door. Thinking someone else was up, I waited. I didn't want to encounter anyone in the night while using the bathroom.

I listened but couldn't hear anything that would indicate that anybody was up so I went to the door, paused to listen again, and then opened it a crack. I still couldn't hear anything so I pulled the door open and stuck my head into the hallway.

The bathroom light was on and the doorway was open. Someone must have forgotten to turn off the light. Probably one of the kids since Mike and Paula probably had a private bathroom connected to their bedroom.

I slipped into the dark hallway and quietly crossed the six or seven steps to the open doorway. I looked into the bathroom and was surprised to find it occupied.

Paula's back was to me. She was simply standing, looking out the bathroom window, with all the patience in the world. The light, above and on the far side of her, lit up her body so its silhouette shone through her nightgown. I knew she had a good figure but to see it this way made that assumption seem uninspired.

Her body was truly remarkable. A perfect, elongated hourglass with a beautifully slender neck protruding from the top, slightly muscled arms hanging listlessly from the sides, and a fine set of legs extending to the floor. I cleared my throat, but Paula didn't turn around, or even turn her head slightly. She didn't respond at all.

"Paula?" I whispered.

Nothing.

"Mrs. Entwhistle?"

Nothing.

I started to turn away, then changed my mind. I stepped into the bathroom and brought myself close to her, worried that she was having some kind of strange attack.

"Paula?"

I looked into the mirror to her left at the profile of her face. She seemed far away. Except for the fact that her eyes were open I would have said she was asleep. My gaze dropped lower in the mirror, along the outline of the front of her body. Paula's breasts were easily discernible under the nightgown, sloping down and swooping out, her nipples seeming to hold the nightgown up on their own. An electric bolt shot through my penis, which had been dormant since our intimate discussion the night I first arrived.

"Paula?" I whispered.

I put my hand tentatively on the outside of her upper right arm and she turned to face me. She wasn't awake. Paula was sleep-walking!

I stepped back and to the side, surprised, and Paula started walking. She went right out the door and into the hallway, then stopped. I followed her and whispered her name again. When nothing happened, I turned her toward her room. Paula walked calmly to her door and stopped. I followed and stood behind her.

The door to her room was open about halfway. It crossed my mind how awkward this would be if Mike suddenly got up and found me standing so close behind his attractive wife who was clearly naked under the semi-transparent nightgown. Nervously, I looked into their room but couldn't see anything. It was dark.

"Paula?" I whispered, very quietly.

There was no response. I glanced into her room again, then touched her shoulders and urged her toward the right to face the bedroom doorway. She complied but didn't move forward. I sighed, and swore under my breath, "Shit."

I got behind Paula and gently prodded her back but she still didn't move. I nudged her again but, upon continued resistance, pushed harder. The added pressure forced my hands past Paula's shoulder blades and under her arms. Suddenly, my fingers were scraping beside the fullness of Paula's breasts. Oh, God.

I wanted to grasp them fully, to pull her firmly back until her ass nestled against my bulging cock. I was suddenly acutely aware that I was standing in the hallway, behind my hostess, dressed only in my underwear, with my hands cupping the sides of her breasts. This was insane!

Paula took a step forward, then another, and another. She slipped into the darkness and out of sight. I stood there for a minute, breathing hard, looked down at the hardness poking through my shorts, and then up into the impenetrable gloom. I turned away and started back to my room.

"Are you okay, Darling?"

I quickened my pace and beetled into my room, not stopping to use the bathroom or to turn off the light, and clicked the door closed behind me.

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I stayed up the next night, listening for signs that Paula might walk in her sleep again. I finally fell asleep but woke up twice. Both times, I checked to see if the bathroom light was on and got up to listen at my door. Nothing.

The following night, however, I was in luck. Paula was in the hallway, at the end, near the closed doors of the children's' rooms. I walked quietly down the hall and, without speaking, for fear of awakening the children, turned her around. After a brief pause, Paula starting walking toward her room. As I followed her, I remembered the children boarded at their school during the week. When Paula drew abreast of the bathroom, she stopped.

I prodded Paula's back but she didn't move. About to push her harder, I changed my mind and turned her into the bathroom rather than past it. She walked ahead and stopped beside the sink. I brought myself close, as I had two nights earlier, and looked into the mirror.

Her slumping breasts sagged against the nightgown and, like before, the nipples pushed up as if tasked to prevent the flimsy material from cascading off her shoulders. She had a fine set of mature tits, so much like Linda's. I yearned to hold them but fortunately restrained myself. I turned Paula to face the mirror and stepped behind her. I wanted to look over her shoulder at her tits but realized my error as soon as I looked into the mirror.

Paula was looking back at me, unseeing to be sure, but it was unnerving to see her gaze directed right at me. I looked back, too startled to do anything else, but when I realized she wasn't really looking at me, that she was indeed asleep, I let my gaze travel down her front.

The nightgown dipped down in a deep V and I could plainly see the divide between Paula's breasts. My breath caught when I saw the inner swells and my attention fixed upon the dark nipples under the nightgown. I started to reach around to take hold of her wondrous globes but caught myself in time. Retracting my arms, I pushed them between her arms and her body, as I had done before, and satisfied myself with the feel of the outer swells against the underside of my fingers.

Madness!

If she woke up, how could I explain myself?

I let my hands drop and they slid down her waist until they hit her hips. I didn't pull them away but instead closed my fingers around her waist. Stifling a groan, I urged Paula toward me. Her bottom settled against my front and my cock swelled to meet her, growing and pushing against my shorts to nestle into the groove of her behind as if it was made to be there. My hands slid up, recovered the sides of her breasts, and then curled around to take their full measure.

Holding Paula's tits, I pressed into her ass, thrilled by the acceptance of her rear cushions which were firmer and more prominent than I expected. Looking down, I confirmed that her buns actually did stick out. I had noticed this before but thought it was due to the constraining pressures of the riding breaches rather than a natural expression. Now I could see I had been wrong. Paula's ass was supple, firm, different, and very arousing. I pressed my hardened cock, which was straining against my shorts, into the crevice until I felt her cheeks fold around it.

Madness!

Abruptly, I released Paula and stepped back. I scrutinized her face in the mirror to make sure she was still unconscious of my presence. Gently, I urged her toward the bathroom and into the hallway, then down the hall toward her room. I turned Paula toward her doorway and she started to walk through it but I grabbed a handful of her nightgown and stopped her, then slipped my hands through her arms and took hold of her breasts for a final feel. I hugged her back and hunched myself against her bottom, then lowered my head until my lips caressed her bare shoulder. I kissed it, then reluctantly let her go.

Paula stepped forward and disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom. I waited for the sound of Mike's voice, knowing I shouldn't, but feeling unable to leave. There was no greeting, just the rustle of bed covers as Paula got back into bed and then a muffled groan.

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On Friday, Mike said he had to work late and arranged for a car to take me home. As we were driving away, I spotted him leaving the front of the building with one of the female staff, a young woman in her mid-twenties. He looked as foolish with her as would any man my age. What a fool.

There was a strange car in the driveway when I arrived home. Upon entering the house, Paula introduced me to a suave looking man about eight years her junior. He bore a remarkable resemblance to her so it wasn't much of a surprise when she introduced Robert as her brother.

"Her twin brother, of course," Robert smiled as he extended his hand.

"I wish," Paula laughed.

Dinner was ready to be served. Mike hadn't thought to call ahead to let anyone know I would be late but they had waited anyway. Paula didn't seem surprised that I was alone.

The conversation at dinner was lively and enjoyable. The kids were unrepressed in Mike's absence and buoyed by Robert's presence, who was clearly a favorite uncle. Apparently, Robert was married and lived nearby. He had children of his own, twin girls, but they weren't yet in school.

By the time dessert was done, Robert had cajoled me into exploring the estate on horseback the next morning. Linda and I had once holidayed at a dude ranch and had been surprised by how much we enjoyed it. Those horses were plugs so I was apprehensive about testing my equestrian skills on the sleek, spirited animals in the Entwhistle's stable. I thought I had hidden my nervousness rather well until, on the way from the dining table to the living room, Paula hung back behind the others and pressed close to me.

"You'll be fine," she whispered and squeezed my hand.

We talked for a couple of hours without a lull in the conversation but the kids disappeared when Paula turned on some classical music. It was only then I realized that there hadn't been any external distractions, no music or television. The music was welcome, however, because, together with the port and lively discussion, I was felling a little drained. For the past three years, I had been used to going home and watching the idiot box, as my father used to call it, without really paying attention to what was on.

Forgetting about Robert, I followed Paula with admiration as she moved. Watching her lovely figure, so similar to Linda's, I felt suddenly guilty for my inappropriate exploration of her charms. It was during this honest condemnation of my behavior that I felt Robert's eyes upon me and guilt sent blood rushing to my face. I didn't turn to meet his gaze.

Paula didn't return to sit on the chesterfield between Robert and me. Instead, she walked around the couch and stood behind us while we listened to the music. Paula struck up a conversation with Robert which lasted a minute or two before she pulled me into it. As we talked, Robert and I turned sideways to face each other, extending our arms along the back of the couch, so we didn't have to twist around to look at Paula. Robert seemed friendlier than ever and I wrote off my earlier fear of his scrutiny to my own paranoia.

I felt very relaxed, occasionally sipping from the glass of port in my right hand and contributing to the casual discussion, without feeling any pressure to do so. Paula and I became immersed in an exchange and she turned toward me, leaning her hip against the couch. While she was making an important point, I looked away from her face to think about what she was saying.

Gradually, I lost track of Paula's argument and became more aware of what was happening right in front of me. Paula had leaned more heavily against the couch as she talked and Robert's arm had slipped partially off its edge. The full length of my arm was still aligned along the couch with my hand reaching almost to the front of Paula's hip, but Robert's arm departed at the elbow and his hand was hidden from my sight.

Suddenly, I forced my eyes to look rigidly ahead, past Paula's waist, but not low enough to seek Robert's hand. I think Robert was touching his sister's ass! In fact, I was sure of it. I tried not to look at him and compelled myself to stare straight ahead, although I knew it must look unnatural. There didn't seem to be movement or any other sign but I just knew I was right. Unable to control myself, I glanced at Robert, but wasn't prepared for the knowing, mischievous smile. I was stunned.

Paula suddenly twisted away from her brother. "Stop being a brat, Robert."

She had spun right around and was now facing him more than me.

"He always makes fun of me when I get serious about anything. Brat."

After this mild admonishment, Paula repeated her argument to her brother. She queried him at several points, daring him to take issue with what she was saying, but he wisely refrained from doing so. With my host thus engaged, I let my gaze slide away from the side of her face and down her back. Paula's knit dress had become caught up on the far buttock, the one that I thought had been the target of Robert's affection. The hem was only an inch or so higher on that side but it begged the question: Why? To me, it confirmed my suspicion. Robert had been fondling his sister's ass.

I looked at Robert and immediately knew he was aware of my gaze, where I had been looking, and why I was now looking at him. The knowing smile returned and, when Paula paused to look away to think about what she was going to say next, he smiled directly at me and flicked his eyes toward her backside as if to say, Go ahead.

I was doubly shocked. Robert seemed to be inviting me, no, encouraging me to touch his sister's ass, to let my fingers play over the swollen fullness of her dress and maybe even press into the flesh underneath, as I imagined he had done.

Robert looked away. Paula was still staring out the window. It was as if we were all waiting for something to happen. I, too, looked away and the moment passed. I experienced the pang of loss when Paula didn't renew the conversation and instead turned away from Robert to look straight out the window into the night.

"Look at the moon!" she exclaimed.

Robert and I both turned to look. I had to lean back a little because when Paula had turned away from her brother, she had moved closer to me. It was a full moon. That thought had just passed through my mind when Paula leaned back, hands reaching back to brace herself. Her right hand landed on the couch near Robert but her left landed on my upper arm. She pressed down to take some of her weight as she shifted her bottom onto the rear edge of the couch, and the top of my hand.

I was speechless. This beautiful woman had parked her slightly prominent behind directly on my hand. The hell with the moon. I looked at my hand, or rather, where it should be, and the wonderful, soft-yet-firm and warm behind settled upon it. I looked at the owner's brother and was treated to an impish grin.

Robert struck up a new conversation with his sister about the merits of this moon as opposed to others they had enjoyed over the years. The discussion lasted for some time, long enough for my hand to start falling asleep. After trying to keep it still for so long, I couldn't stop it from twitching. Paula lifted some of her weight and looked down at the edge of the couch but didn't disengage herself.

She knew! She knew she was sitting on my hand, and she didn't mind. Paula squirmed, trying to get comfortable and then settled in to watch the moon for a while longer. I held my hand still despite the urging of my darker side to wiggle it. You've been invited, my subconscious screamed but my cowardly moral consciousness declined to act, for all the obvious reasons: the presence of her brother, the fact that I was a guest in her home, and that she was married.

Robert eventually said he had to get going and we all rose to walk him to the door. I didn't know what would have happened after he left—probably an awkward scene in which I fumbled the opportunity to be with a wonderful woman—because as soon as Robert opened the door to go, Mike drove up.

Paula turned away.

"I'm not up to dealing with him tonight," she said. "Can you tell him I went to bed an hour ago?"

"Uh, sure. No problem."

"Thank you. You're such a gentleman."

She leaned close and stretched up to kiss me on the cheek, the way she had done that first night. The brush of her lips was electric.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Robert woke me the next morning.

"The horses are waiting," he said, all bright and cheery.

There was a riding outfit, including boots, laid out on the chair beside my bed. I had stayed up so late, listening for signs that Paula was sleep-walking, that I didn't even hear whoever had brought the clothes into my room. Such a gracious host. Everything fit perfectly but I was self-conscious when I joined Robert and his sister for breakfast on the patio, feeling that my poor, night-time behavior was evident for all to see.

"You look marvelous, like an old pro," Robert exclaimed.

"Well, I don't know about that," I said.

"You look very handsome, Peter," Paula said.

I had fallen asleep thinking about her, struggling to come to terms with my taking advantage of her sleep-walking. How could I let myself down so badly? Such a loss of integrity. Did I really want her that badly? Was she really so much like Linda?

The answer to both questions was—yes. Her body and mannerisms were so similar to Linda's that I felt justified in my desire and pursuit.

Last night I had thought about making love to her but I knew it was Linda I was really yearning for. I had started with Paula but then pictured Linda stretched languidly across the bed as I teased her with my lips and tongue and plied her with my fingers the way she loved so much. Our love-making lasted for a long time because we weten't in a hurry. I was almost asleep, lost in my dreams and about to come inside my wife, when her hair turned dark and she whispered, Fuck me, Peter. I had jerked awake just as I slipped my cock inside her.

"Thank you. You look…beautiful," I replied, trying unsuccessfully to stop that word from coming out.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Briggs."

We finished breakfast and went to the stables. I managed to get on a horse without embarrassing myself and we were off, Robert in the lead, then me, with Paula bringing up the rear. She had been right. I was fine, but it was due to the horse's skill and not mine. She was a beautiful animal that quickly adapted to my ineptitude which allowed me to become sufficiently confident to enjoy myself.

Paula rode up beside me and then past, standing up in her stirrups and presenting me with a gorgeous view of her lovely bottom, the riding breeches stretching tightly over its constituent buns. And to think that had been pressing onto my hand the night before.

The estate was a stunning piece of property. Lush green fields were sparsely populated by small groups of cows, horses, or goats. Some fields were empty and separated by forested trails between. We sauntered through this wonderland until we topped a rise and looked down upon a staggering blight to the environment.

An industrial pipeline ran below us from as far as we could see to the left until it disappeared around a cornerl to the right. The pipe was old and rust showed that it was poorly maintained and in an appalling state of decay. It was a devastating sight after the previous enchanting hour.

"What the hell," I blurted out.

"Exactly!" Robert said. He and Paula had waited atop the rise until I pulled my horse between them.

"Isn't it just horrible?" Paula said, disgusted.

"Absolutely," I concurred with a venom that would be surprising to my fellow chemical engineers.

"It is obscene," Robert said. "A pity there's little we can do about it."

"Unless we can prove it's a danger to the public," Paula added.

"We've been down that road," Robert said.

"Has it been inspected?" I asked.

"Oh yes. Evidently, it isn't harmful. It's just an eyesore."

"A remnant of Britain's industrial heyday," Robert said.

"That's a chemical line," I said.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Depends on what's being transported, but the risk is low if the pipes are maintained properly."

Paula turned her horse and I moved aside to let her pass. She descended the rise and went back the way we had come.

"Shall we take a closer look?" Robert asked. He urged his horse ahead and I reluctantly followed, looking back at Paula's disappearing retreating back.

Robert and I picked our way through a broken section of the chain link fence and I gave the pipes a cursory inspection as we rode alongside the pipeline. The pipes were in even poorer condition than they appeared at a distance. Obviously, in these times, nobody was spending the money required to maintain them properly, which was understandable, but to let them deteriorate so badly was potentially dangerous.

As we rode away, the thought occurred to me that the friendliness I had experienced in the evenings might be related to the pipeline. Were Robert and Paula searching for an expert to help make their case against the owners of the pipeline?

Immediately, I was disgusted with my distrustful nature. Linda had always said I thought the worst of people. Sure, Robert had invited me to take a closer look but he hadn't pushed me to get involved in a protest. It would be futile anyway. That pipeline had been there for a long time and it would cost a fortune to dismantle it. Any company faced with an attempt to make them do so could tie it up in the courts for years, maybe even decades.

Paula was waiting at the bottom of the hill when we returned. She refreshed our moods by initiating a race back to the stables. Once my horse took off after them, I hung on for dear life. There wasn't anything else I could do.

We had lunch and then spent a very pleasant afternoon at the local village. There was a weekly gathering with local produce and crafts offered for sale in addition to many interesting shops, a couple of nice cafes and a fantastic little pub. We walked back to the estate—it was only a mile—and spent the rest of the afternoon lolling around on the patio, listening to a mixture of early Beatles and Mozart. When Paula left to get changed for dinner, I stayed behnd with her brother.

"Robert, are Mike and Paula involved in legal action to have the pipeline removed?"

Robert looked surprised, and I rushed on.

"Because if they're contemplating that, it will be a very expensive and arduous task to undertake."

Robert placated me with outspread hands, pushing his palms forward as if to say Whoa.

"Peter, first of all, Mike would never be part of that. The pipeline was built by the company both you and he work for."

That was a shock. I could hardly believe my employer would allow one of its facilities to deteriorate to the point it would be a danger to the public.

"Furthermore," Robert continued, "our grandfather was once a major shareholder of the firm but he was ousted from the board when he tried to block the construction of the pipeline so near his home."

"So, Mike bought this property for Paula?"

Robert looked truly amused.

"Good God no. Paula and I grew up here."

That was another shock. I had assumed this beautiful property had been purchased from Mike's success as the best salesman the company had in Europe.

"Do you still own…"

"We inherited the estate, and Paula lives here. Mike suggested selling it but Paula would never do that. She'd spend her entire fortune tearing up that pipeline on her own if she could."

"Oh, I see."

So maybe my conspiracy theory was right. Perhaps Paula was trying to seduce me, with her brother's suggestive participation, in order to get me to provide them with the information necessary to condemn the pipeline. But why suffer such a personal sacrifice. Any competent engineer could write the epitaph for that pipeline. Ahhh, but the condemnation of the company's best engineer, now that might shorten the legal battle by years and may even convince the company that it wasn't worth the fight. But, it would be the end of my job.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

On Monday, I brought home some testing equipment hidden in a large field pack embossed with the company's logo. Mike didn't seem suspicious but Paula saw me carrying the pack in and looked pleased.

I'll just take a closer look, I thought. That's all.

The next day, I pretended to feel under the weather. Paula left not long after Mike and I set out on foot to the pipeline. I spent several hours walking the line and climbing up to make close inspections at several points. I took measurements and took careful notes, backed up by photographs, and took samples at several sites where there was notable evidence of leakage.

I returned in the early afternoon. I wasn't finished by any means but I was hungry. I tried to be circumspect in my return but Paula drove up the driveway just as I was entering the house and must have seen me go in, pack and all. I went directly to my room and showered and changed before coming down to see if I could get something to eat. Paula was in the kitchen, making a sandwich.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Starving," I replied.

"I see you're feeling better."

"Uh, yeah. I thought I'd get some fresh air."

Paula nodded and continued making the sandwiches. She was wearing a jumpsuit that emphasized her slender figure but provided only a hint of the slow slung breasts I had sampled several nights earlier. I checked out her behind which was harder to camouflage with it's characteristic projection, a rare feature on a woman with such a slight build. I hadn't thought about it before, but I hadn't expected to ever find a woman with a figure so similar to Linda's, especially one with a near identical butt.

Paula was quiet and I didn't offer further conversation, content to simply watch her. As before, she didn't look my way which allowed me to examine her at my leisure. I wished I go could stand behind her, nuzzle her neck, and fondle those cheeks.

I wondered if she would sleep-walk that night. If I was right, and she was seducing me so I would get the goods on the pipeline for her, then the sleep-walking had to be just a ploy. What would stop me, then, from sampling the goods right now? Why couldn't I just walk up behind her, kiss the nape of her neck, press my cock—now swollen from my wicked thoughts—into that sexy behind, and reach around to sample those luscious, slumping tits?

Fear, that's what. If I was wrong, I would be out on my ear. No, I had always been a careful person, a good engineer. That is, until I had met Linda. Only then, under her guidance, had I become adventurous. When we had seduced that woman, the wife of one of her co-workers, Linda had taken the lead. I would never have made a play for her, and if I had, I would have succumbed to my urges and blown it. Linda made me see the wisdom of taking it slow, and taught me to appreciate the exquisite taste of sampling your dessert morsel by morsel.

So, I would play along with Paula's game and pretend I wasn't wise to it. If she did the sleep-walking thing again, I'd push the boundaries to see how far she'd go.

"Yours is ready," Paula said, pushing a loaded plate to the side while she finished making her own.

I stepped close behind her, closer than would be expected, close enough to breathe on her neck, the bulge in my pants only inches from her firm, pear-like cheeks. At the last minute, I stepped sideways, picked up the plate, and said, "Thanks."

"There's milk or juice in the fridge. Why don't you pour us both one? Glasses are up there."

Paula indicated a cupboard with a nod.

"Juice or milk?" I asked.

"Whatever you're having."

I got some juice from the fridge and poured two glasses. Paula finished making her sandwich and took one of the glasses before leading me outside to the lounges. I followed, content to watch the magnificent interplay of her buns.

Tonight. Please sleep-walk tonight.

We sat on the lounges for a couple of hours after we finished eating, talking. I purposely mentioned my deceased wife and gently pushed the conversation toward intimacies shared between couples involved in long-term relationships. Paula seemed genuinely intrigued. Almost an hour and a half into our discussion, I told her that Linda and I often sequestered ourselves in our home for days on end without going out, even to get food.

"We ate whatever we could find in the cupboards. We didn't want to expose ourselves to others because we had discovered that three or four days absolutely alone we would spontaneously do things for each other that we wouldn't contemplate otherwise. It's an amazing phenomenon, but it is true. The other person becomes your entire universe and you'll do anything just to please them, or see what really makes them tick."

"What kind of things?"

Paula had turned toward me, twisting her body in a way that thrust her right tit forward and plastered the jumpsuit around it so tightly the nipple was clearly delineated. Her eyes were intense, lips moist, and her breath shallow but audible.

I put her off, however. I started to tell her what she wanted to know, juicy details of my private life with Linda, but changed my mind about revealing those precious secrets. I couldn't stop completely but drew the story out, teasing her, dangling a bit here and then veering off on an aside. I was running out of delaying tactics and nearing the point where I had to actually give her some real meat when we heard Robert's voice.

Relieved, I took the earliest opportunity to change the subject, telling him that I had taken a walk for a ways alongside the pipeline. He was very interested in hearing what I had found but, to my surprise, Paula seemed uninterested, got up, and disappeared into the house. I didn't see her again until dinner.

I made excuses about not feeling well again after dinner and returned to my room. I read for a while, waiting for everyone to go to bed, and fell asleep. When I awoke, the house was dark, including my room. I didn't remember turning out the light, but I must have. I listened for signs that someone was up but heard nothing. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that the bedroom door was wide open. I was sure I had shut it.

Then I felt a presence in the room. I raised my head and gazed around but saw nothing so I sat up and peered more intently into the darkness. I looked right at her for several seconds before my mind recognized Paula's shadowy outline standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling window, staring into the night.

I studied her as my eyes acclimatized to the darkness. At first, I wasn't sure if she was awake or sleep-walking but soon came to the conclusion it was the latter. Carefully, I pulled the covers back and slipped my legs over the side of the bed. I stood up slowly and eased my weight onto the floor, catching my breath as the moonlight outlined Paula's tits slinging forward against her flimsy nightgown. If sleep-walking was a ploy, I didn't need to be so careful, but if it wasn't, I sure didn't want to wake Paula and ruin everything, so I moved stealthily until I was in position behind her.

She was so beautiful: graceful neck sweeping out to rounded shoulders, slender arms hanging listlessly past a narrow waist that flared out to form deliciously feminine hips above thighs that tapered down to well-muscled calves, all maintained in steady balance upon a compact pair of bare feet. It was actually too dark on the room side of Paula's body to see through the thin nightgown but in my mind I was sure I could see the swell of each buttock and a dark line between them.

Here goes.

I reached out and put a hand on each hip. Paula didn't flinch so I slid my hands upward, following the inward curve of her waist and then widening until I felt the swollen sides of her breasts in my palms. I leaned forward until my nose penetrated the hair at the nape of her neck and breathed deep, then pushed my hands around until the full swells of Paula's breasts rested comfortably in my palms.

I became light-headed and teetered forward. That's when I realized that my cock had grown so hard the tip had escaped my shorts. It skidded between Paula's cheeks until my chest contacted her shoulder blades. Involuntarily, my hips scrunched upward, pushing the head of my cock deeper between her globes.

"You're so beautiful," I whispered, unable to prevent my lips from latching onto the curve of her neck.

I inadvertently pressed more frimly against Paula. She lost her balance but caught herself by stretching her hands out to catch the edges of the window. I followed instinctively, cupping her breasts and moving with her, my feet moving outside of hers, and my cock prodding deeper between her buttocks. I waited until I was sure she was steady, then released her right tit and used the freed hand to push my shorts down.

Are you crazy?

Evidently, I was. I returned my hand to Paula's tit and rubbed my cock against her ass. I moved my hands down to Paula's sides, pressed against her waist, and slid them back up, dragging the nightgown higher. Free of my shorts, my cock angled forward and under the raised hem, sliding between her bare ass flesh. I groaned.

"So beautiful," I whispered again.

Looking at Paula, from this perspective and in the darkness, she could have been Linda. I groaned again and rubbed my cock back and forth through her cheeks, massaging her breasts and enjoying the stiffening nipples poking through the nightgown and even tryng to extend between my fingers.

I wish I could fuck you.

Had I said that out loud? Paula stepped forward and straightened. I let my hands fall free and allowed our bodies to part. Her hands dropped away from the window frame and she stood still, once again listlessly gazing into the night. My cock arched toward her ass. I tried to control my breathing and reached out to touch her—on the shoulder. It was time to return her to her room before her husband came looking for her, and I went too far.

Paula turned obediently toward the light touch on her right shoulder. She started to walk and I turned to follow her so I could guide her out the door and down the hallway to her room. Too late, I realized she hadn't turned fully and was walking toward the bed. I tried to catch her but her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she fell forward onto the bed.

Shit. I didn't want her to wake up lying on my bed. Gently, I grasped Paula's arms and lifted her up onto her knees. I stepped back to make room and tried to pull her off the bed onto the floor and into a standing position but her hands slipped out of mine and she flopped forward onto her face. Damn it! Paula was now lying face down on her knees with her butt sticking up high, the nightgown barely covering half her ass.

I moved closer, searching for her hands to try again, but changed my mind and grabbed Paula by the hips to get a better hold. My hands had slipped under the nightgown so I was holding her bare flesh. I looked down at her upraised ass and my cock dangling an inch or so behind it.

Oh God.

I leaned forward until the tip of my dick graced her cheeky split, rotated my hips, and caught my breath as my rod found the moist sponginess between her legs. Her lower lips parted and the head of my cock slipped into them. Heaven, fucking heaven. Oh jeez, how long had it been since I'd felt such bliss?

Gorgeous, hot, moist, velvety pussy. I slid in deeper, a couple of inches, meeting only enough resistance to entice—then deeper. Just a few strokes, just one or two—or maybe three or four…a dozen, but no more I promised myself.

That's it. Just a few more, then I'm done. I grabbed Paula's hips more firmly and pulled her back onto my cock, digging it in deep. So fucking tight, so wet! So fucking wonderful. A perfect fit, just like my Linda.

Linda.

I groaned and rammed against Paula's backside. Once, twice…she fell forward, flat on the bed, and I followed, scrambling to lean over her, straddling her thighs to keep my cock fully immersed in her sea of love. Ah, God, the feel of her spongy ass resisting my thrusts was so good, so fucking hot. I adjusted my position to get better balance and starting fucking my host for real.

I lowered myself onto Paula's back and gouged my cock into her behind, reaching as deep into her cunt as I could get. Establishing a rhythm, I bounced her off the bed and impaled her on my cock, then hammering hard for maximum effect. Her body was so exciting that it was a moment before I realized she wasn't just bouncing off the bed onto my cock. Her ass twisted up to meet me each time and on the way down her pussy squeezed my cock, pulling it down upon her.

God, you're so fucking hot!

I huffed and moaned, "Unnggghhhhhhh, unghhh, uh, uh uh, unghhhh."

Suddenly, my spend was flowing and I was filling her, too late to stop, coming inside her, legs going rigid, stretching to get deeper, leveraging off the balls of my feet, digging in, and coming! Oh yeah, coming.

I leaned over Paula, cock now withdrawn, panting, chest heaving, rasping. I pushed myself back to a standing position and stayed there, trying to catch my breath.

What now?

I have to get her out of here.

I pulled Paula onto her feet, no longer worried about waking her up, smoothed her nightgown down, and turned her toward the door. She moved when I prodded her, not as steady as before, but she did move. I guided Paula to her bedroom door and nudged her inside. There was a lamp on inside so I beat a hasty retreat back to my room and closed the door quietly behind me.

I flopped down onto the bed, exhausted. I could hardly believe what had just happened. As I drifted off to sleep, thoughts churned through my mind.

I love this woman and I want her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I returned to work the next day and rented a car during lunch.

"If I support you from the office, it will give Sheila a chance to come up to speed and gain confidence by being mostly on her own," I rationalized to Mike.

Sheila was one of the local technical crew. She was bright and eager, and just happened to be the young blonde woman I had seen Mike escorting from the building the night he said he had to meet a client. That may have been legitimate but I did note that he accepted my argument rather easily.

I went home early with a trunk full of more sophisticated equipment and spent a few hours at the pipeline. I was certain I could provide enough evidence to convince the company that in its current decrepit condition the pipeline wouldn't be serviceable again without significant expenditure. Anyway, it was a ticking time bomb and a potential public relations disaster waiting to happen. With my standing in the company, I might be able scare Parker into doing the right thing. If not, what would he do? Fire me?

I felt good about what I was doing. I hadn't been this happy in my work since I first started. It was a project with a worthy goal—making Paula happy.

I had just managed to get the equipment back into the trunk when Mike drove in. I was glad he hadn't seen it because, despite his appalling lack of technical knowledge about what he sold to make a living, I didn't want to raise his suspicions. My relief turned to pleasure when I turned to go into the house and saw Paula watching me. She smiled like she had the day she'd seen me returning from the pipeline wearing the backpack.

I received a call that night while we were eating dessert. I excused myself and took the call in the living room. When I returned to the table, Paula exclaimed, "It's your birthday? Why didn't you tell us. We could have had cake."

"I don't celebrate my birthday anymore, haven't for years."

"Three years?" Paula asked.

I was surprised by her reference to Linda's demise and my face showed it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That was insensitive of me."

"It's alright. I know you didn't mean any harm. Yes, I guess it's been three years but, truth be known, I didn't celebrate my birthday before anyway, that is, until Linda came along. She made a big deal of it and always did something special for me."

"I'm sure she did." Paula smiled and added, "Well, tomorrow we'll have a big cake."

I started to protest but Paula waved her hands. "No argument."

"Better give in Pete. She always gets what she wants."

"Alright, cake it is."

"And we'll try to find you a suitable gift."

"Please, don't put yourself to any bother."

"It's no bother." Again, that inscrutable smile.

Paula went to bed early that night. I waited as long as I could, watching the hallway like a hawk through the door I had left open, but no light or sound broke the stillness of the night.

I fell asleep.

My eyes fluttered open. I closed and opened them again, squinting at the brightness of the light. My foggy brain finally realized the light was from the bedside lamp. Shielding my eyes with my left hand, I tried to turn it off but failed and sank back onto my right side. I was facing the edge of the bed and the open doorway I had been watching so closely before I dozed off, waiting for Paula to bless me with her listless presence. It was still dark in the hallway and as silent as a tomb. Disappointed, I sighed and closed my eyes.

Wait a minute! Who turned the light on?

I rose up on my elbow and peered through the doorway, searching the dark hallway for an answer. Had she been here? Could she turn on a light while walking in her sleep? Did sleep-walkers do that kind of thing? I raked through my mind seeking anything I might have heard about sleep-walking but came up blank.

I reached for the lamp switch but felt short again. Exasperated, I tossed myself around and flipped onto my left side, shoved my left hand under the pillow to pull it up against my head and simultaneously punched it with my right to plump it up. My eyes closed and breath expelled noisily from my chest. I breathed in deep, exhaled, breathed in deep again, then gradually took shallower and shallower breaths as my body relaxed, readying itself for sleep. Blanking my mind to help, I studiously thought of nothing but she crept into my head anyway, as she did every night—my Linda. I sighed.

Linda, you have to let me go. I didn't think I could live without you but, now that you're gone, I can't live with you. At least, not just in my head. It's killing me.

Peter, you're the one that has to let go.

I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and shook my head as if trying to shake the voice out of my head though I knew it wasn't really there, that it was just me talking to myself. Linda or me, I knew the voice was right. I had to let Linda go because I couldn't live with the constant reminder of what I was missing.

It was no good. I couldn't sleep. I opened my eyes, and stared, seeing but not comprehending.

What the fuck?

I raised my head, confused.

She was there. Lying on the bed, back toward me, nightgown pulled up over her hips and piled on her waist, the hem stretching up across her ass and disappearing over her right hip which was tilted slightly away. Her bottom was half bare, each cheek swelling to form a perfect little pear.

The covers had been kicked down, exposing her legs. Like her hip, the right leg was slightly in front of the left, creating a gap that narrowed to almost nothing between her thighs. I looked close, able in the faint light from the lamp behind me to see the puffiness of her pussy in the shadows between the back of her thighs. My cock stiffened into full hardness as the sight brought forth memories of the night before when I had fucked Paula right here on this bed, gripping her hips and mashing mine against that beautiful, jutting behind. They were so similar, Paula and my Linda.

Hard, I was so fucking hard. I wanted her badly but was afraid to touch her in case she vanished, proving to be just a figment of my imagination. Such a gorgeous ass, waiting for me, legs stretched out one in front of the other like Linda's always were when she wanted me to take her in the ass. As soon as I shifted my weight to bring my cock against her ass, she would lean over onto her stomach, twisting her cheeks up against my hardness. She was always ready to take it inside right away because she had prepped herself, building excitement in her mind as she waited to surprise me.

Linda always said I was the best she'd ever had in the ass. She said I was a natural and that my cock was the perfect size for ass-fucking. She loved to push something inside her pussy when I did her. She had started with her fingers but graduated to a medium-sized dildo. Not long before she died, she had broached the subject of finding a real cock to fill her pussy while I took care of her ass. She wanted to know if I would be okay with it because she wanted to be DPed, but only if I could handle it. I wasn't ready, and said no. How I wished now I had granted her wish. If only I'd known.

I moved closer. I needed to touch her despite knowing it would ruin the dream, that she would disappear the moment I did.

"It's okay baby," I whispered, reaching out to touch her ass, fingering the underside of her beautiful, fleshy right cheek.

It didn't vanish into thin air like I expected, nor did she lean away while arching her back to offer her ass. Surprise turned to shock as I realized I wasn't dreaming and it was Paula lying on the bed with her head mostly hidden under the pillow. I caressed her ass more confidently, no longer afraid she would disappear. Sleep-walking or not, she needed it, else she wouldn't be here.

I need you tonight, Paula, like this, face down and ready to take it.

I caressed the back of her thighs and trailed the tips of my fingers down to her knees. Back and forth, I tickled her legs, falling into a natural rhythm that I hadn't practised for three years. Her thighs trembled, just like Linda's.

Perfect.

I pressed my knuckles against the inside of her right thigh and Paula inched it over, responding just like Linda did. I moved down her leg then, teasing the inside to her ankle and onto her foot, scratched along the bottom of her sole and then explored behind the base of her toes. On the return, I traced a path up the back of her calf, swirled around the soft puffiness behind her knee, and then moved on up her thigh, slid in toward the juncture, almost touching it, and then retreated down her leg.

This routine was repeated over and over. Ten minutes went by before I leaned forward to kiss the most swollen part of her lower right cheek. More minutes passed before I nibbled it between my lips and let my tongue slide into the crack. Just a quick tease.

My hand slid up Paula's right side, under the nightgown, following her waist, and reached around to grasp her tit. The nipple was stiff and extended. I pinched it gently, increased the pressure gradually until I knew it must almost hurt, then released it suddenly. Paula responded with a moan, just like Linda always did.

Ahh, this was going to be so good.

I kissed the back of Paula's neck, slid my lips along the nape, caressed the other side and returned, then switched back and forth as I massaged her tit and pinched her nipple repeatedly, bringing my left hand into play to please the left one too. After a while, I returned to Paula's bum, kissed it briefly, then played with her legs and feet. She groaned, perhaps disappointed that I wasn't doing more, so I surprised her on the trip back, sliding in until I made contact with the juncture between her legs. Paula groaned under the pillow but there was a different tenor to the groan. I smiled.

We're so ready, aren't we?

I kept the tips of my finger on her pussy lips and strummed as if playing a guitar, kissed her ass again, then pushed my fingertips into her slit and stroked it vertically. She was wet, very wet, and received me easily. I pushed my tongue between her cheeks and slid it up and down, matching the movement of my fingertips in her pussy.

I pushed both tongue and fingers in deeper and shook my head, sliding my tongue through her crack and slicking her cheeks. I pried them apart and drooled onto her pucker, lifted my head and stared, fascinated, as my spit oozed around the crinkly hole and seeped inside. I leaned in close, stretched out my tongue and pushed the curved tip into the seep hole, then wiggled it. Paula's ass quivered and she moaned again.

I spit more on her hole, tickled it again with my tongue, and reveled in her muffled groan. Reaching under Paula's hip with my left hand, I found her pussy with my fingers and, plying it, poised my right index finger at her nether entrance. I set the tip on the dark asterisk and pressed. Slowly, it depressed the shutter until it sank in to the first knuckle. That beautiful muffled groan graced my ears again.

I progressed slowly, just as I had with her legs and tits, until my whole finger was easily sinking into Paula's ass. I became enthralled with the quivers and trembles of her thighs as she reacted to my careful explorations. Before I tried two fingers, I sank my tongue inside and treated her with a series of pokes and wiggles, pushing in stiff and then letting it soften into thick pulpiness inside her ass.

I knew all along from Paula's reactions that she had never had it in the ass but I could tell she liked it, much like my Linda had when she had been an anal neophyte. Soon, I sensed, Paula would love it too, just like Linda. She was in for a real treat. How fortunate for her to get a real ass man like me for her first time—the best, as Linda had claimed, and with a little pride, I knew there was more than a semblance of truth in that statement.

I pushed two fingers in, met resistance, but kept the pressure on. Gently, gently, pressing in. I knew she could take it, knew she was ready, knew she wanted it.

Soon, baby, soon you can have my cock, deep in your ass, my gift for you. It is, after all, my birthday.

Two fingers, moving easily now.

You're ready, my sweet, ready for me.

I got onto my knees, straddled her thighs, positioned her straight on the mattress and brought my cock close. I needed her higher, so I grabbed her hips and lifted her ass up a bit. Her protruding buttocks opened and beckoned in silent welcome. The pillow shifted when I lifted Paula's ass yet higher and she adjusted her arms on the bed, exposing the back of her head and her hair—her blonde hair. I froze.

Linda. Linda?

I leaned over, trying to see her face, but she twisted it into the mattress. Her ass pushed back against my cock and settled her pucker right on my tip.

"Fuck it. Fuck it for me."

Word for word, just the way Linda would have said it. I can't describe the range of emotions that rammed through my entire body within microseconds. I needed to take her, but I was also afraid. I hovered over her buttocks, indecisive, incapable of advance or retreat.

"Take me. I need it badly."

That did it. The balance of my weight tilted forward and my cock pressed against her slick pucker, bending as it met resistance despite my patient preparation. I nudged forward.

"Oh, ohhhhh,"

I nudged harder.

"Oh, oh, uhhh, unnhhhh."

And again.

"Unngghhh, uh, uh, unnhhh, unnnnghhhhhhh."

That last long one coincided with the head of my cock popping through the ring, overcoming its resistance but immediately meeting reluctance further in. I paused, held still for a couple of moans and then pushed forward slowly with steady pressure. From experience, I knew it would be better not to stop completely.

Each push was more an intention than a true insertion, and each ease back more of a relaxation. Repetition led gradually to actual movement, half an inch, then an inch, an inch and a half, and then two.

At the end of one stroke Paula released a deep groan when, instead of withdrawing, I pushed onward. Her stretched ring dragged on my shaft but I maintained the pressure until my cock was all the way in. I paused, then pulled back, just an inch or so, and plunged back inside. I worked my way out of her rear tunnel just as slowly as I had pushed in, plugged in fully but withdrawing only part way, farther and farther, until I was plunging all the way in and all the way out.

As I pumped my cock within her, I considered the woman beneath me. The blonde hair hadn't completely thrown me. Though surprised, I did know it was Paula and not Linda, but wondered why had she had gone to the effort to dye her hair blonde like Linda's. Upon that thought, the family pictures I'd seen around the house flashed through my mind. Not only had Paula dyed her hair, she'd also cut it short like Linda's too. The pictures had all shown Paula with longer, shoulder-length hair. How long had she been wearing it short like Linda's?

The exquisite sensations from the hot body beneath me pushed such confusing thoughts out of my head. I wanted this woman, whoever she was. I moved faster and faster until she was moaning constantly, then slowed almost to a stop and ground deep into her, rotated my root around the entrance to her hole, then pulled out and shoved slowly back in. The change of pace converted moans to a guttural groan that spawned the familiar thrill of male conquest within my chest, something I hadn't felt for three years.

I took Paula to the edge of climax but held her back, cruelly withholding bliss and letting it seep away, then started her on the path toward it again. I briefly renewed the fast pace of taking her ass and then slowed to a smooth and steady stroke, followed again by a harsh and choppy attack. Throughout, I continued to build, winding ever higher until, finally, I couldn't hold back. Though I tried, I needed it just as much as she and maybe even more, but she drew away, exacting a payback of her own, just like Linda might have done. It didn't matter. I was too far gone and nothing can stop a man when he gets that close.

I filled her ass. I knew I shouldn't have, and I could have pulled out and spilled my seed on her back, but I didn't. I trembled and quivered and shuddered until I had squeezed every drop between her cheeks. I flopped onto Paula's back, expecting her to go limp, extending the sleep-walking façade. Knowing I couldn't be with her again until the next night at the earliest, I tried desperately to milk every sensation, however small, before she withdrew into her shell, real or not. I yanked the pillow off Paula's head and tossed it away, then buried my face in her blonde hair and kissed the back of her head.

"Happy birthday, Peter," she husked.

I lifted my head and stared at her. Turning her face to the side, Paula released a hoarse chuckle. I smiled and kissed her cheek, then stretched around to envelop her mouth and kissed her, afraid that if I stopped she would go back to sleep, until Paula put her fingers between our lips and gently pushed me off her and away. She twisted onto her back and reached out to pull me in tight against her front, offering the soft pleasure of her breasts and the warmth of her tummy. We cuddled in silence. Paula offered no explanation for the sleep-walking ruse or dying her hair blonde, and I didn't ask. Several long minutes elapsed before she spoke.

"I have to go. Michael will be waking up soon," she whispered when the faint light of dawn first intimated its imminent onset.

"Do you have to?"

"Yes, but if you come home early, I'll be waiting for you."

"I wish you could stay the night. I'd love to wake up with you."

"You may get your wish but something has to happen first."

I didn't get a chance ask Paula what she meant. She pushed and I gave way. An emptiness crept over me as I watched her walk away. She tugged the nightgown down to cover her ass but it was too short to hide the moist sheen on the inside of her left thigh.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I hadn't thought I would be able to sleep after that but I did and even slept through my alarm. Mike was gone when I woke up, but so was Paula. Strangely, I was relieved, on both counts. I needed time to think about what had happened.

After eating, I grabbed some gear from the trunk of the rental car and headed for the pipeline. On the way, I thought about the situation. Paula had obviously used the sleep-walking thing as a ruse to seduce me. I guess I should have been angry, or disappointed, but in fact I was intrigued by her inventiveness.

She could have simply initiated an affair. Despite my public disavowal of those who cheated on their partners, God forgive me, I probably would have accepted. Sure, I could have used Mike's indiscretions to rationalize such behavior but the simple fact was I was enamored with this woman. There was no awkwardness within my conscience about being with her.

I wasn't born yesterday. If knew it would help to have a damning report from one of the pipeline owner's top technical people but I didn't care that she had played me for that purpose. I wanted to get the goods on the pipeline for her if it meant that much to her. Anyway, the pipeline had been shoddily maintained, which I couldn't countenance, and should certainly now be dismantled. I didn't feel guilty about what I was doing, and anyway, the past week had been fun, more fun that I had had for a long, long time!

Neither Paula nor Mike were home when I returned to the house. If it was the weekend the kids would have been home from school but it wasn't so I sat on one of the lounges and enjoyed the rural landscape. Mike and Paula arrived home separately but about the same time. She appeared through the glass doors but Mike's voice remained distant. He was talking on the phone again, something he did a lot, even at home.

"Would you like a drink?" Paula asked, hesitating by the door.

"No thanks. I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are," she smiled.

I blushed. Can you imagine? At my age?

Paula settled effortlessly into the other lounge without spilling a single drop from her full wine glass. She was wearing a simple, sleeveless dress with a hem that would have reached just above the knees but settled halfway up her thighs when she stretched out on the lounge and raised her knees, an action that transferred just the right amount of tension to her calves. She sipped her wine and I tried to see why I sensed something different about her.

Maybe it was the hair, which was back to her normal color. I was about to comment on it, instead of telling her I was ready to write up a report on the pipeline like I had planned, when Mike burst through the door.

"There you are. I was wondering where everyone was."

Mike dragged one of the lounges to the other side of his wife and spilled some of his scotch as he plopped down upon it.

"You missed a hell of a day at the office. Lot's of tension between us sales types; but best left alone. I talked to Parker though. Told him about your plan to have Erickson tag along with me and you providing support from the office. He thought it was a good idea; said you'd know what would work best. He has a lot of confidence in you."

I nodded. Mike raised his glass in salute and took a big swig. I noticed that he referred to Sheila by her last name and phrased his sentence to avoid saying 'her'. I glanced at Paula but she was looking straight ahead, head tilted slightly down to sip her wine. Mike didn't try to engage her in the conversation by switching to another topic. Instead, he plowed right on to give a blow-by-blow of the exchange between the sales types despite having said it was best left alone. Paula bore it for a minute, then quietly got up and disappeared into the house. I wished I could have gone with her but felt obliged to remain behind to listen to my host's retelling of how he had come out on top in the daily jousting with his peers. It was an eon before we were called to dinner.

Paula didn't visit me that night. I had looked forward to her visit all day, thinking about what to say to her, and wondering how I could tell her about my report without sounding like it was payment for what she had done. I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I thought she was the most beautiful creature alive, and that Mike didn't deserve her. I wanted to ask her to leave him and come home with me.

Then my feelings vacillated and I rushed to the dark conclusion that she was just as bad as her husband, that she had seduced me maliciously, manipulating me for the sole purpose of writing the report she needed to get rid of the pipeline. She didn't care about me. Dying her hair was probably a joke.

For Christ's sake, Peter. Get hold of your emotions. She's nothing like that. Paula is a fine woman, and she doesn't deserve your bullshit.

Yes, that's true. The way she had talked to me, the way she had been with me after sex, that couldn't be faked. She might not care deeply about me but she wasn't a malicious woman. Still, I couldn't shake the impression that there was more to this than met the eye. She wasn't just a lonely woman with a cheating husband, gracefully offering herself to an emotionally wounded man that had turned up on her doorstep.

Why didn't she come?

An eerie feeling came over me when I remembered some of Paula's sounds and movements were almost indistinguishable from Linda's. I shivered, and though I tossed it off as nonsense, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I had been in bed with a ghost.

I hoped she didn't come.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, I went into the office and spent the day writing up my report except for one call from Sheila seeking help for a problem she should have been able to handle easily herself. There were at least two other people on the technical staff that were better trained than she and more suitable for Mike to have taken along for support. Oh well, it was his commission.

I finished the report and composed a letter to send to Parker, one that laid out the reasons why I would have to contact certain officials in order to comply with the demands of my professional principles and personal conscience. I had already spelled out why it made technical and economic sense to dismantle the pipeline in the body of the report but felt the letter was necessary for Parker to move on its recommendations. Parker knew me. He would know the report could not be ignored or covered up. Also, I knew he wasn't likely to actually read the report proper.

Mike called to say that he needed to stay over until the next day. He asked if I could let Paula know and would I be available to help Erickson. I assured him I would, on both counts. I left the office immediately, wishing Mike had called earlier. I was now eagerly looking forward to an evening alone with Paula. I drove quickly, not wanting to waste a single minute. I would show her the report and, to hell with it, collect any reward that was offered. What was that she had said when I said I wanted to wake up with her? Something has to happen. Well, I was making it happen.

Robert's car was in the driveway when I arrived. Crap! I hoped he wasn't staying long. I entered the house and was surprised to find nobody there. Come to think of it, I hadn't noticed any of the outside staff around either. Surely, at least the cook was there. Nope. The house was empty. I couldn't even find Robert or Paula. Perhaps they were out for a walk. I looked around the living room, suddenly worried. I hoped nothing unfortunate had happened. What about the children? Why else would Paula give the staff the night off and be absent?

I went upstairs to have a shower and get changed before dinner. If they weren't home soon, I would drive down to the village and get some dinner at the local pub. I had heard the food there was excellent. Thinking about driving made me wonder how Robert and Paula had left when both their cars were parked in front. Maybe I should go to the local hospital.

I pushed the door open to my room, and had my answer.

A couple was having sex on my bed. They weren't in a hurry. The woman was stretched out on top of the man, her pelvis slowly working his manhood, and doing a great job of it, judging from the sounds he was making.

It was Paula. Jealously flooded through me and I stepped forward, not in anger, but rather in anguish. How could she? In my bed, where I had taken such care to possess her virgin ass, hoping she would want experience that pleasure again. And now I had caught her cheating on her husband. She was as bad as him. She must have known he would be gone overnight. I took another step forward. Who the hell was she fucking?

I stopped, aghast!

Robert peered at me past Paula. He whispered something I couldn't hear but Paula stopped working his cock, turned to look at me, and smiled, genuinely pleased to see me. Her hair was blonde again.

"Peter, what took you so long?"

She leaned further over Robert and laid her head down on his chest. Then, reaching back, she grasped her lovely cheeks and pulled them apart. I stared between her open cheeks at the well-lubed anus that winked at me as Paula resumed sliding up and down her brother's cock which was a surprisingly long one for such a slender fellow to possess.

"Come Peter, show Robert how you made love to me."

I was dumbfounded. I wanted to turn and run from the room but couldn't spark my limbs into action. I just stood there like a dork.

"Please," Paula begged, her pucker winking wetly. "You know I've always wanted to try this."

She spread her cheeks wider, tugging her anus open. My head felt light. It could have been Linda speaking those words.

"I'm so ready for you. We've been waiting for ages. I thought you'd be home early."

I stepped forward.

"You know I've always wanted to do this."

My fingers were on my shirt, already starting to unbutton it.

"DP me."

I ripped at my shirt and buttons flew everywhere. I jerked my belt open and shoved my pants down, shorts and all in one fell swoop, cried out when my already hard cock got caught in the waistband and yanked downward at a painful angle. I stepped forward, half tripping, struggling to get the pants off my feet, scratching my legs in the process.

"Fuck it for me," Paula urged.

I leapt onto the bed and straddled Paula's ass, grabbed her hips and tried to get into her hole, stabbing at it too eagerly with little success until she grabbed my cock and set the tip at her greasy entrance. I pushed, slipped through easily, and howled my pleasure, then stroked slowly in and out several times.

"Hard, baby," Paula cried. "I'm so fucking ready," she wailed.

I started pounding on her ass, dimly aware of a strange, new sensation. Robert's cock was shoving up, pushing Paula's ass up to meet me, scraping against my own cock just millimeters away. My thighs slapped against Paula's ass.

"I love it," Paula cried out. "A cock in each hole."

My hands slipped from her hips and cinched around her narrow waist. I started banging her with wild abandon, aware that Robert was doing the same from below. Paula didn't speak but her moans and groans encouraged us more than mere words could ever do. Near the end, I grabbed the hair at the back of Paula's blonde head and pushed her face onto her brother's. While she kissed him, I lunged into her ass, only once every five seconds or so, relishing the way her whole body rocked upon her bother's. He was still now and they were both susceptible to my heaves, each groaning in unison with every lurch.

We came like that, a minute or so later. As I filled her ass, Paula came and squeezed Robert's cock. Within seconds, I felt it gushing within her and we all moaned like animals, then collapsed in a heap with Paula between us amid a mangle of twisted limbs. Minutes passed before Paula spoke.

"You guys will have to be more gentle next time."

"I don't know. I kind of got off on that."

"Me too," I said.

"Yeah, well you boys weren't in the middle."

After we ate dinner, we went back upstairs and tried it again. Gentle didn't last long but it wasn't Robert's or my fault. At least, we didn't start it.

I enjoyed regular sex after a midnight snack on the living room rug while Robert watched, then took my turn observing as he bent his sister's legs way back and fed his long schlong into her pussy. I would never be able to match his cocksmanship, not from the front anyway, but I knew there was a field on which I couldn't be conquered. I woke up with Paula's mouth on my cock. We were back in bed, though I couldn't remember climbing the stairs. Robert was leisurely taking his sister from behind and he laughed heartily when my eyes opened.

"It's about time, sleepyhead," he laughed.

After a few minutes, I tried to break away so I could take Robert's place behind his sister but Paula wouldn't let me go. She kept sucking and worked her mouth all the way down to the root. When I begged her to back away because I couldn't hold it anymore, she held her face above my dick and let it shoot all over her face.

"Did you like that," she gurgled, when I was done.

"Not particularly."

"Oh. Robert loves it."

"To each his own," I said.

"I guess," Paula replied, and turned around to face her brother who had pulled out of her pussy.

I watched as Robert unloaded and felt only disgust. Paula possessed a rare, quiet beauty, and I didn't like seeing it marred this way. When she returned from the bathroom, drying her face with a large, fluffy towel, she stood beside the bed and said, "I won't do that again." She turned to her brother and said, "Is that alright with you?"

"Whatever you say, Sis."

Paula looked back at me. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Let's get something to eat." She laughed and threw the towel at me.

Downstairs, I was surprised to see the kitchen staff on the job. They weren't in the least surprised to see Robert, even half-dressed, and I realized that he was probably a regular visitor when Mike was away.

"That's probably Gina," Robert said when the phone rang half way through breakfast. Gina was Robert's wife.

"Oh oh," I said.

"It's not like that," Paula said as Robert got up to answer the phone. "Gina's very understanding. You'll like her."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She's young, beautiful, very sexy, and…" Paula's eyes twinkled.

"And?" I prodded.

"She's our cousin."

"Robert is married to your cousin?"

"Shhhhhh," Paula cautioned, laughing.

When Robert returned, Paula announced, "Peter wants to meet your wife."

I protested that I had said no such thing but Robert only laughed. "Does he want to teach her new tricks?"

My face reddened but something stirred lower down. Maybe I wasn't a one-woman man after all.

"Paula," I blurted, "I've written a report about the pipeline."

"I know, Peter. I don't think you should send it. You might get in trouble."

"I don't care. I want to help you get rid of the pipeline."

"It isn't just for me. It's for the children and everyone around here."

"I know. That's why it has to go. It will become dangerous soon. I'm sure the company will see that."

"Perhaps."

"I'm going to submit the report."

"You don't need to."

"Yes, I do."

Robert interjected, "I think Peter should present the report, so he can get fired."

Paula and I both looked at him.

"Then," he continued, "we'll raise a public outcry, you can move here to live with Paula, and visit Gina and me."

"What about Mike?" I blustered.

"Oh," Robert said, "I think he's about to leave, isn't he Paula?"

"Yes," Paula said. "Something has happened. She smiled at me and reached out to take my hand. "No more blonde hair," she said. "Except for special occasions, if you want."

"What about Mike?" I repeated.

Paula shrugged. I couldn't believe how dismissive she was of marriage no matter how poor a husband Mike was.

Robert noticed my consternation. "They're not married," he explained

"Oh."

I turned to look at Paula who seemed surprised that I hadn't known.

"No more blonde hair," I confirmed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wasn't fired but I did quit. It was an amicable separation, though I hadn't expected it to be when I went into the office to hand in my resignation in person to Parker.

"There's no need for this, you know," Parker said, taking my resignation letter and letting it flutter to the desk. "I told Mrs. Entwhistle…"

"Mrs. Ashton," I corrected.

"Of course…Mrs. Ashton. I told Mrs. Ashton two years ago that the pipeline behind her property was to be dismantled next year. Surely, she told you?"

Paula hadn't, but she had insisted I didn't need to submit the report.

"We've been negotiating a cost-sharing arranging with the British government—with the involvement of Mr. Ashton, the local MP and her brother, I might add—for the past nine or ten months."

I felt at that moment that I had indeed been played but not for the reasons I had suspected. If Paula was guilty of manipulating me, at least I was the prize and not just an means to and end, and that made all the difference in the world.

I couldn't get out of New York fast enough. It wasn't until I was half way across the Atlantic that I remembered seeing Linda and Parker in deep conversation at the end of one of his parties, and that hadn't been the first time I had seen them. Was that how Paula had heard about our close relationship? Had Linda confided in Parker? It seemed unlikely, but then, how had Paula known that Linda and I had been so close? Was it Paula who had engineered my stay at her home rather than being in a hotel?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two years later, I woke Paula in the usual way, trailing my fingers lightly around her naked chest, skirting her breasts in favor of tickling her tummy, circumnavigating her navel before exploring lower, avoiding the musky treasure and proceeding along the edge of her thighs to her knees which was as low as I could reach.

Paula couldn't prevent the miniature, telltale movements that betrayed her sleep as a pretense and I smiled to myself. This was a ritual we greatly enjoyed, the preliminary steps to our waking hour of making love. Though I would spend long minutes circling her breasts and caressing her limbs, I wouldn't move between her legs until she opened them, nor would I take her nipple into my mouth before she arched her back. 


Linda had taught me that giving pleasure was the best way to experience it and, in my two years with Paula, I had learned to savor it all over again. There were times when I wondered if I was making love to the ghost of my lost love but most of the time I thanked my lucky stars that I had found true love with another woman in my lifetime, a woman who truly knew herself and helped me to fully explore the depths of my own psyche.

Yes, I liked Paula to pretend to be Linda now and again. It heightened our love making for both of us. And, I also found out that I bore a remarkable similarity to Paula's first husband. Paula confided that he had wanted to take her ass but she had turned him down, something she deeply regretted. So, just like Paula sometimes shared me with my dead wife, I sometimes shared her with her dead husband when we were in the deepest throes of passion. And, of course, with her brother.

I played between Paula's legs for some time but didn't hesitate when she drew her knees back to her chest. When my woman signaled her readiness, I didn't make her wait. I immediately positioned myself and slid into her slick tunnel, grasping the back of her knees to help her keep herself wide open. Quickly, I worked myself up to a fast pace, leaning forward and getting onto my feet to squat over her haunches so I could dig deeper as I gained steam.

After several minutes of good, hard fucking, Paula straightened her legs until her heels dug into the bed and our bodies slowed until we were barely moving, stretched out full length, one above the other. The fingers on my right hand found Paula's body again and trailed along its length, exploring her ribcage and tickling her tummy, slipping in to tease the outer reaches of her pussy and then reaching around to grasp that wonderful, jutting ass that had so beguiled me the first day I met her. As I squeezed it, Paula scrached the back of my calves with her toenails.

Paula drew away and I lowered my body to follow, trying to keep my hand on her ass, but it was soon pinned to the mattress. In turn, I drew away, rising up until we almost separated, and would have been if Paula hadn't followed me, hooking her feet behind my back to pull herself deep onto my cock. Our bodies hunched and stretched, thrust and parried, with increasing urgency until I couldn't maintain a crawling stance and collapsed upon my lover, gasping out my orgasm, feet scrabbling at the mattress in a desperate struggle to keep my cock deep inside my true love.

Afterward, Paula stroked my back, played with the hair on the back of my head, and whispered her love to me, knowing that this was one of the days I needed to hear how much I meant to her.

After breakfast, we took our tea on the lounges, discussed various topics until lunch, and then walked outside. We walked past the garages and the stables and took the familiar path to the old pipeline. Cresting the hill, we looked down upon the boundary between Paula and her brother's estates, once divided by a rusting pipeline but now returned to its former state, a canal.

Paula and I walked down the path to the stone bridge that now spanned the canal, so carefully reconstructed using stones from the original which had been dismantled to make way for the pipeline. It still surprised me that the stone slabs had not been reused and had been found in an old quarry nearby.

Robert and Gina were waiting for us. We joined them at the apex of the bridge's arch and watched a couple float by underneath us. As the oars dipped lazily in the water, the man nodded in response to our hello while his partner returned the greeting. They were almost round the bend when Paula took Robert's hand and turned to go, leading her brother toward our home. Gina took my hand and pulled me the other away.

At the ends of the bridge, we stopped to kiss. It had become a tradition with us. I turned so I could see across the bridge and met Paula's eyes which were trained on me, over her brother's shoulders. They blinked—Paula couldn't wink with one eye.

Gina spoke as she led me up the hill. "Robert said I should try harder to tire you out this afternoon. He and Paula don't like it when you're too rambunctious."

"Is that right?" I asked, my eyes falling to what I knew would be my sister-in-law's tool for tiring me out.

"Yes."

I let it drop and Gina did too, allowing me to enjoy her butt as we scaled the hill. Although I hadn't the first year, I now appreciated Paula's need to be alone with her brother and I rather enjoyed my time with his wife. No matter how close your relationship, there are things you don't feel comfortable doing with your spouse, like blowing a load in her face.

Paula like to be kissed while we made love. With Gina, however, I knew that we'd barely get inside the door before I was inside her and would probably use the long cook's table in the kitchen. Whereas I enjoyed taking my time to make love with Paula, with Gina I felt this incredible urge to fuck her hard, right away, wherever we happened to be.

And I liked blowing my load in Gina's face. Don't ask me why. With Paula, I just couldn't, and if I did I could never be rough with her like I sometimes was with Gina. Moreover, I suspected Gina wouldn't let Robert treat the mother of his children that way either. Seeing Gina with other young moms, the picture of young motherhood, stirred this incredible need in me to treat her like a veritable slut and she always rose to the occasion. We didn't try to undertand it, we just went with the flow, so to speak.

I decided at the top of the hill, as Gina turned and flashed an innocent smile despite knowing that I had been devouring the delicious rump she'd been waving in my face all the way up the hill, that as soon as we got in the door I would jam my cock in her mouth.

We put an arm around each other and turned to wave at our spouses and each let a hand slip down to fondle an ass. Even at this distance, I could see our action was mirrored across the canal. Satisfaction with my new life welled up inside me. I was now truly a member of the manor-born.

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