Now What?

It had been a particularly trying day in the emergency room. No details of course. There were never details. They'd lived it already and there was no point in talking about it. They didn't even have to agree it had been a bad day, and he didn't even have to invite Anna home. She just followed, waited while he changed into shorts and then sat down next to him on the couch, waiting for his wife Gwen to get home, watching sports on TV, whatever was on.

Sam liked sports, especially golf, tennis, bowling, and baseball. Somebody always won, and somebody always lost, but it didn't really matter who and most importantly, nobody died. There were rules, and people followed them. When they didn't follow the rules there were penalties. But the penalties weren't such that they mattered and again, even though sometimes people got hurt, nobody died.

Sam strongly suspected that Anna didn't give a damn about sports, that she just liked being next to him on the couch, sitting quietly, arm to arm and thigh to thigh, breathing in, breathing out, staring wordlessly together at the same screen. Sometimes during the commercials he would turn his head and look at her, at her long dark hair, at her ample curves, at her comforting face behind the sensible glasses. Sometimes out of the corner of his eye he caught Anna looking at him, affectionately, almost motherly, her leg gently pressing against his leg. She was so not Gwen.

Whatever it took, whenever she found him like this, Gwen would snap him out of it. She would strip, shower, and mount him, her blond hair wrapped in a towel, her breasts inches from his face, completely blocking his view of the television. Often that was enough. His cock would start thinking for him, his hands would go to her hips, his mouth to her nipples, and the fucking would pull him out of it, leaving his day and the emergency room far behind. On the days when sitting on him didn't work, when he peered around her at the television, she would dress again in something revealing, prepare some food, make phone calls, invite some friends, put on dance music, and make merry around him until he finally snapped out of it and joined in the revelry. Invariably Gwen would get drunk and take off her clothes and Sam would wake up the next morning on the couch with a girl he barely knew and stumble to the shower to find Gwen making out naked under the spray with some guy or girl he knew even less well.

Sam realized with a start that he'd been staring at Anna the whole time he was thinking about Gwen and Anna was staring back. Her leg was against his leg. Her arm was against his arm. Her head was inclined slightly toward his shoulder. Her face was tilted up toward his. Their eyes locked, he lowered his head. They sat that way, he had no idea how long, just staring. Nothing else mattered, there was no world outside Anna. Their breathing was heavy and synchronized. Her chest was heaving. Her lips were parted. They were sweating. Slowly he lowered his head. Their lips touched. The front door opened.

Anna sprang off the couch, jumping half way across the room, pulling back her hair, her back to the door. Gwen entered, saw Anna, rolled her eyes, walked over to Sam, kissed him deeply, put his hand on her hard-nippled breast through her t-shirt. Sam kissed Gwen back, but not enough to encourage her. Anna was watching, looking both intrigued and discomforted. Gwen sighed, and then went into her gracious host mode. "Watch your game" she said. "I'll make you guys dinner."

They were slightly more animated after that, talking about the game, and the game that came after it as they ate. Gwen, for the most part ate in silence, cleared the dishes and cleaned up in the kitchen, glancing out at Sam over her shoulder through the kitchen door every few minutes. Finally she excused herself and went up to bed, leaving Sam and Anna alone on the couch again. Sam stared at the television, very aware that Anna had snuggled up against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his bicep. She had been quiet for quite some time before he dared to look at her again. She was asleep, snoring softly. Gently he pushed the hair from her face, laid her back on the couch, found the blanket, and covered her. He stood in the doorway for a long time, just watching her sleep, watching her breathe, appreciating her beauty before going up to bed and Gwen.

Much later that night, on top of Gwen, his cock deep inside her, their hips moving against each other, Sam thought about Anna asleep downstairs on the couch and began to fuck Gwen faster. Gwen, her legs wrapped around Sam's back, grunted at him with each stroke through clinched teeth as she felt the tension mounting "Are you... sure your... little... friend doesn't... want to... join us?"

Sam thought some more about Anna on the couch. "No!" he said as he thrust deeper. He remembered watching the game. "She's not..." he grunted, close to coming, remembering the kiss they had almost shared. "She's not...," he repeated, remembering how her head had felt on his shoulder, "She's.. not... She's not... She's not like that!" he screamed on his final thrust, spurting his seed into his wife and collapsing on to her as she came with him in a final bucking spasm.

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