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DDFC split open and the mouseketeer would


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Fortune Cookie By Mr. Backgammon

I was the last person to open up my fortune cookie. "Romance will soon
blossom," I read to the group.

"But, Don, you're married!" laughed Anne, "you should already have all
the romance you need."

"I don't know," smiled Fran, "he might be looking for something on the

"If he is, you two better watch out. You could be in trouble," somebody
replied, "I've seen that boy in action. He's a fast worker!"

"I think we'd better get back to work," Mike assessed, probably worried
about either a sexual harassment suit or lost productivity. The group of
nine left the chinese restaurant and headed back to the office.

To celebrate the end of three months of preparation and the kickoff of
our next phase, Mike had taken us out for a Friday afternoon lunch. He was
in charge of the computer rollout project. There were four people working
directly for him in the pharmaceutical firm, and he had four consultants in
this age of 'right-sizing.' Two of his employees were the twins, Fran and

The year was 1987, and our charter was to supply the large field staff
of the company with laptop computers and train them in the rudiments. This
was back in the days when a 'laptop' was anything that weighed less than 25
pounds and had a handle. Mike's staff or four people was in charge of
setting up the computers and training the staff in the corporate order
system; four consultants, who were employees of a training firm, were going
to teach word processing, spreadsheets and email. This was in the days
before the internet, and there was a public mail system that we dialed
into. The way it would work was that teams of two people would travel to a
city where we would spend four-days training 10 people in the new-fangled
stuff. We'd be on the road 3 out of 4 weeks for the next year, leaving on
Sunday nights and returning late Thursday evening. The teams would shift
around so that we wouldn't constantly be partnered with same person.

The twins and I had carpooled over to the restaurant, and on the way
back they started to taunt me. Fran and Anne weren't really twins; in
fact, they weren't even related. But they were both about 5'7", nearly the
same body weight and dimensions, medium dark complexions, brunettes, and
their facial characteristics were uncannily similar. Both of them had
impish dispositions, and were always kidding around.

For example, when we started the project, they both had shoulder length
hair. A few days later, they left for lunch about a half-hour apart. When
Anne came back, we saw that she'd had her hair cut to a shorter trim. We
all joked that we would finally be able to tell them apart, only to be
astounded when Fran returned with an identical styling.

In fact, the only true differences was that Fran was four years older than Anne, Anne was a soprano while Fran was contralto, and Fran had a ring
on her finger, while Anne's wedding was a few weeks away.

When my wife was out of town, I'd fantasized about them both while
masturbating, and once or twice I'd thought I'd made a connection with one
of the girls. I would have loved an affair with either (or both) of them,
but when you're working in an office with a young lady, you need to be very
careful, or problems can crop up real easily. Under the circumstances, I
figured it was just a pipe dream.

"So," Anne began as soon as the three of us were in the car, "who's your
new sidegirl going to be?"

I knew from painful experience that when the twins started teasing you,
the only method of survival was to tease back. Otherwise, they just kept
at you until you surrendered. "I don't know. Would either of you like to

"That's a great idea!" said Fran. "Let's play rock, scissors, paper to
see which one." They both started playing the finger game.

"Hold on," I said, "If you both are willing, I think I should get my

"Well, okay," said Anne, "which one of us do you want?"

"Does it matter? I can't tell the difference between you out of bed.
I'm sure you would both be the same in the sack." This got me hit from both

"I'm livelier than she is!"

"Yeah, but I'm hotter. You better pick me if want great sex!"

"Well, how do you know what the other's like in bed? Unless, of course
. . ."

"No, I only swing one way," one of them said, "but when I swing, I go
high! I hope you own a trapeze!" I was losing, and I knew it. Luckily we
pulled into the office parking lot, and I was saved.

About an hour after we got back to work I logged on to the email system,
and found a message waiting for me from a mailbox named FORTUNE.COOKIE.
Since we all shared administrative privileges, it was impossible to figure
out who had created the mailbox. The message read,

**FC>Romance can bloom, your fortune told you, and indeed it will as we
discussed in the car. If you want to have fun with me, go to the window
and talk about the weather.

So the twins were going to continue their joke. I figured I'd call
their bluff and let them have their fun. Making my way through the
cubicles, I looked longingly out the window and said, "Bob, it's too nice
of a day. Let's go play some golf."

"I'd love to, but I still need to pack for our trip to Denver on Sunday.
Do you have the Excel slides finished?" Bob was to be my partner for the
first week of training, and he was a bit of a worry-wart.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I expected the twins to pop up and start in on me, but
they both stayed in their boxes and ignored me. I returned to my desk, and
about five minutes later got another message.

**FC>Your fortune cookie says, 'Your wisdom is great, and will be
rewarded.' Just wait until the first time we are on a trip together. It
will be so much fun!

I emailed back,

**D>But what if I don't want to wait that long?

The afternoon dragged on without another message. As I was preparing to
leave, I checked my messages one last time, and sure enough, FORTUNE.COOKIE
had written back,

**FC>Patience is a virtue, and will pay off. Wait for me, my

I left the office, wondering what (if anything) was in store, and when
(if ever) something might happen.


When I got home I fixed my wife a drink and told her about the
conversations and messages.

I'd told Lisa about the elaborate pranks that the twins had pulled off.
Her favorite was how they'd managed to completely swap cubicles one
weekend, and then answered only to each other's name on Monday.

"Could this be a joke? One that's going to make you look ridiculous in
front of the staff?"

"It might be. They have this weird sense of humor. But they've never
done anything to hurt anyone. This one is so personal that I have a hard
time believing it's being done only to let me down, or that they'd
embarrass me with it."

Lisa and I had an arrangement, and allowed each other to have other
lovers. I'd only had one with our next door neighbor, Jill, but Lisa had
been more active. She'd recently been through her fifth guy in three
years. I didn't mind, as she was completely circumspect about it, and loved
to tell me about her exploits. If anything, I encouraged her to take risks
she didn't want to. It spiced up our marriage bed, and kept us from
getting stale.

"Well," Lisa observed, "it sounds to me like one of them wants my
husband, or maybe it's both of them! Or you're being set up here. If it
works out, have a great time, but try not to look like too much of a fool."


After I got back from my golf game the next afternoon, I got a message
on my answering machine from Bob. "Don, bad news. My mother went into the
hospital, and I have to go to Mansfield to be there. I can't go to Denver.
I talked with Mike, and he's going to rearrange the schedules. You better
call him. I'll see you next Friday."

I called his house back, but no one picked up the phone. He was
probably already on his way. When Mike answered the next phone call, we
discussed the situation. "I don't know who I'm going to send," he fretted.
"I might have to go myself. Don't worry about it, just get on the plane
for Denver, and whoever is there will make contact with you in the hotel."
So I put it out of my mind.

At the boarding gate the next afternoon, I looked for one of my
compatriots, but no one I knew was around. "Hope I'm not running this show
all by myself," I thought.

Arriving at Stapleton in the early spring afternoon, I picked up my
luggage and the rental car, and drove to the Marriott a few miles away. At
the desk, I inquired about messages, and was handed a slip that read,
"Check your email."

Going up to the room that would be my home for the week, I plugged in
and logged on. There was only one message, and it was from FORTUNE.COOKIE.
**FC>I can't believe we're so lucky, darling. I didn't expect us to be
able to be together so quickly. I'm looking forward to the merriment
tonight, but I'll be in a little late. Go ahead and have dinner without

I called the desk to see if Fran or Anne had a reservation, but it had
never been changed out of Bob's name. I went down to the meeting room we'd
reserved in the hotel, and began to hook up the computers. Finishing about
dusk, I went to dinner, returning an hour or so later. My phone was
blinking, and when I called to retrieve the message, all I got was the
repetition, "Check your email."

Logging on, a new message had been received from FORTUNE.COOKIE.

**FC>I finally made it to Denver, Don, and we can begin whenever you're
ready. I'm in the next room. Just email me back.

Was I really going to get lucky, or was this going to be some elaborate
joke that I'd be ribbed about forever? I decided I'd follow along. I sent

**D>I'm here. What do you want me to do?

Soon, another message came back.

**FC>Open up the connecting door between our rooms.

So, if I was reading this right, she was in Bob's room, which was next
to mine. I went ahead and opened the portal, only to find the closed door
in the other room looking at me. By the time I accomplished the chore, the
next message was waiting for me.

I heard the door open. Good. Now, close the drapes tight and turn off
all the lights.

**D>Okay, it's dark in here.

**FC>Now, turn of the computer and sit in the chair. Just wait there
until something happens.

I did as I was asked. The room was completely dark, and as I marked
time my eyes adjusted so that I was aware only of the red dot on the smoke
alarm and the stripe of light coming from under the hallway door. I was
expecting that the door would split open and the mouseketeer would burst
into the room laughing and giggling, but instead it cracked very slowly. I
could see a woman backlighted by a dim glow from the next room. She was
draped in a white bra and panties. She stepped into the room, and closed
the door behind her, completely darkening the room. I was positive that
only one person had entered the room.

I could hear her footsteps approaching me, and then I felt first her
hand on my face and then her lips on mine. We kissed, deeply. I knew at
once that this was not a joke, and that this woman, be it Anne or Fran,
wanted to make love to me.

"Who are you?" I asked. She took my hand, placed it on her cheek, and
allowed me to feel her shake her head 'No.'

"You don't want me to know who you are?" I asked. Her head went up and
down. "Oh, you want me to guess which one it is?" Again the head bobbed

With that, she pulled me to a standing position and began to take my
shirt off. As she disrobed me, I allowed my hands to feel her shoulders
and back. As she kissed and licked my chest, I assisted her in taking the
bra off, and then began to fondle her breasts; her nipples were crinkled in

She dragged me backward to the bed and sat down facing me. After
unhooking my belt and unzipping my fly, she let my trousers drop to the
floor and pulled my briefs down to my knees. Then she grabbed my very
erect dick and I could feel her licking it. I let her treat me for awhile,
and then figured it was time to show her that I was at least competent in
the art she wanted to practice.

I pushed her back onto the bed, and stepped out of my clothing. I knelt
in front of her and kissed her breasts. At the same time, I let my hand
slip to her thigh and run up the inside. She spread her legs, and I moved
my hand higher to feel her pussy through the panties. I couldn't wait any
longer and pulled the underwear down and over her feet. I reached up to
feel her mound and found that she had shaved to a point where she just had
a strip of hair leading straight up from her clit. As my hand went lower,
I felt for the first time the heat of this woman's vagina. It was if she
was on fire, and as my finger dipped into her hole, I was amazed at the
lubrication that was already flowing.

I moved my head between her thighs, and she moved her legs to completely
surround my shoulders. It was as if she was drawing my entire face into
her womanhood. As I sucked and licked her juices, I could hear her intense
breathing, but no other sound came from her lips. I felt she was near to
orgasm, and soon my mouth was soaked with her moistness. Her legs squeezed
me, and I wanted to believe that she was coming. But no noise came from
her to indicate it.

I felt her legs loosen my head and she pulled me up, grabbed my penis
and guided it into her. I was ready, and tried my best not to come; I
wanted this to last as long as possible. But she moved her pelvis in a
wild, exciting rhythm, creating such friction and heat that I simply
couldn't stand it. She felt me start to come and moved even faster, giving
me a wonderful climax. She continued to move her bottom until she was
positive I had completed, then gently pushed me back so that I withdrew
from her.

She stood up, and so did I. I could feel the heat of this woman's body
on mine, and we kissed once again. Then she gathered her garments, moved
to the door, and opened it. Again I was briefly treated to a beautiful
silhouette, but it was gone as she quickly closed the door behind her.

I went to follow her, but as I opened the door I my side, I could see
that she had closed the door on her side. I knocked gently on it, but it
refused to open.

I stepped to the telephone and dialed the extension of the room next to
mine. I could hear it ringing, but there was no answer. After a few
moments, I gave up. How do you communicate with a woman who won't make
herself available?

However, in a few moments, the phone rang. I picked it up quickly, and
was treated to a woman's voice that I seemed to recognize. "Sir?" came a
high voice from the receiver.

"Anne?" I asked.

"No, sir, this is the front desk. I have a message for you from another
hotel guest. The message reads, 'Check your email."

I was sure it was Anne, but if it was, she didn't want to admit it; I
just said "Thank you." Hanging up, I reconnected the modem and logged on.
Sure enough, a recently posted message from FORTUNE.COOKIE was waiting for

**FC>I hope you enjoyed yourself. I did, tremendously. You're a
fantastic lover, and I came twice. I want you again, tomorrow night. May
I have you?

I emailed back.

**D>Certainly. As often as you like. But can we get together again

The response came.

**FC>No, it's late, and we both need to be sharp for the class. Sleep,
and I'll meet you in the coffee shop at 7:15 in the morning.

I realized that the evening was over. I slipped between the covers, and
went to sleep, fantasizing about the woman I'd had.


I awoke the next morning to the sound of water rushing in the bathroom,
and realized that the woman I'd made love to the previous evening was
showering. I lazed, remembering her heat, and then rose to begin getting
ready to meet my new lover.

When I entered the restaurant, I could see Anne in a booth. She smiled
at me, and then I saw a pair of legs sitting across from her. It was Fran.
I realized they'd played another joke on me (albeit one I'd really
enjoyed,) and that I didn't yet know which one of them I'd had.

"Well," I stammered, trying to be cool, "I didn't expect both of you to
be here."

Anne said, "Well, given the circumstances, Mike decided to go to
Charlotte himself and that the two of us should teach the company portion
in tandem. It should give us a little more experience." The explanation
made sense, as Anne had been a little nervous in the training teaching we'd
done back at headquarters.

"When did you get in?" I asked, "What did you do last night?"

"We both took the flight after yours, and got here about 8:00. I went
up to my room and exercised," Fran said.

"So did I," rejoined Anne. "I bet I got sweatier than you did!"

"Bet you didn't."

They continued on in their sing-song repartee, first Anne's high voice,
and then Fran's low inflection. Neither girl gave any indication that she
had slipped into my room. I made a couple of stabs to uncover the mystery,
("I've got a great view of the mountains from my room, what do you see from
your window?") but it was obvious that the culpable party wasn't about to
satisfy my curiosity.

We went over to the meeting room, and set up the room. Both girls seemed to be taunting me with seductive movements as we worked, and I
couldn't stop thinking about how hot one of them was inside of their
business suits, but didn't know which one it was. I was having a little
difficulty with one of the machines, and Anne sat down beside me to assist.
Briefly, she touched my hand tenderly. Was it her? But then, Fran came
behind us, and I felt her bosom touch my shoulder briefly. I realized
that, whichever girl was my lover, the other was in cahoots with the
mystery. Soon the sales folk began to arrive, and we began by giving them
their PC's and teaching them the rudiments, such as turning it on and
inserting a floppy.

Over lunch, I tried to discover who was in the room next to mine by
asking first at the front desk, and then phoning the hotel operator.
Although they both offered to deliver a message or connect me to the
correct extension, neither would tell me which room either girl was in.
Oh, well.

The day went by quickly, and by 4:00 the reps were exhausted with new
information. They all lived locally, so we closed up the training for the
day and allowed them to go home. Anne asked me if I wanted to go to dinner
with her. When I agreed, it became obvious that Fran was invited also. We
made arrangements to meet in the lobby at 6:00, and head to a local spot.

When I got back to the room, I went on-line and emailed to

**FC>Will I see you later, after dinner?

The reply came quickly. She must have been just going online when I
sent her the message.

**FC>It was so difficult watching you in front of the class. You are so
sexy! I wanted to go up and tear your clothes off. I'll see you at
dinner, and after it's over we'll come back, dump the other girl, and make
some more wonderful love! Is there any request you want to make for

**FC>Yes, I want to see you tonight, to admire all of your beautiful
body. May I do that?

**FC>You may gaze at all of my body tonight. I promise to hide only a
little from you tonight. I'll see you at six.

I stayed in my room until a little after six, and everytime I heard a
door slam in the hallway, I would peek out the view hole or open the door
to see who was there. But the girl in the room next to mine managed to
evade me. Finally, I went down to the lobby to find the girls dressed
casually in jeans and similar blouses. This wasn't new, as they really
enjoyed looking like sisters. The only difference was their faces, their
jewelry and their fingernail polish; Anne's nails were bright red while
Fran's were covered with a more demure shade.

We went to a theme restaurant based on an abandoned gold mine. "I
always wanted to go down a shaft," Fran remarked.

"I did last night!" said Anne. When I gave her a questioning look, she
continued. "Right under my bed. I dropped an earring. It's dark down
there, let me tell you!" The suggestive jokes came from all three of us all
during dinner. It was warm in the restaurant, and Fran undid a few buttons
on her blouse. As she leaned over, I could see a lacy white bra. I
wondered if this was the girl. But then Anne also loosened up her shirt,
and I could see she was wearing a similar bodice.

When we got back to the hotel, we could hear music playing in the
lounge. Fran suggested that we stop in, and Anne agreed. When I told them
I was tired and might pack it in, the girls dragged me into the bar. It
turned out that we were the only people in the place listening to the
jukebox. As I sat in a booth, the girls went over to look at the tunes.
Both of them seemed to be waving their posteriors seductively at me as they
chose lively music.

First Fran wanted to dance with me, and got very close to me, rubbing
her breasts up against me. Then Anne had a chance, and she tried to outdo
Fran's provocative prance. As we were dancing (and I was getting quite
hot,) I was shocked to see a bright red light on my crotch; then I saw that
Fran had a laser pointer (the technology was quite new then) and was
highlighting my erection. The next half-hour was spent illuminating each
other's erotic zones. Fran, in particular, seemed to enjoy the searchlight
highlighting her breasts, ass or crotch. Finally, Fran announced that
she'd had enough, and was going to her room. Both Anne and I accompanied
her to the elevators. I punched my floor, and Fran hit one that was
higher. If Anne got off on my floor, I'd know it was her! But when the
lift stopped, they wished me a good night as I got off, and they both
continued up.

I went to my room and prepared by washing under my armpits, brushing my
teeth and putting a little after-shave on. I turned on my computer and
connected to the email service, thinking that the woman would start by
emailing me. But after waiting for 20 minutes I heard a knock on the
connecting door. I opened it to find a provocative woman who wearing (I
assumed) nearly the same outfit I had seen her in last night - only a white
bra and panties. This time, however, she had added one more item - a black
veil completely covering her head. It was tightly clasped around her
throat by a black choker. I let out a despairing groan, thinking that it
would, at least, get a giggle. But no sound was heard.

The girl stood there, allowing me to gaze at her. My eyes roved over
her seductive body, looking for any clue to her identity. Then I picked it
up; the nails on both her hands and feet were the bright scarlet that I'd
seen earlier. I considered calling Anne by name, but then realized that
she wanted to have a last fling before she married without letting anyone,
including me, know who she was. I chose to respect her wishes.

My paramour reached behind her back and the bra fell off. Full bosoms,
large aureoles, small spiky nipples. The maiden slowly lowered her
panties, allowing me a view of the straight strip of hair leading between
her legs that I'd felt the previous evening.

She stepped over to me and began to undress me. When she had me in the
same state she was in (except for the headdress,) she made me sit down in
the stuffed chair in the corner. She sat on my lap, facing me, just far
enough away so that my raging hardon wouldn't enter her. She took one of
my hands and put it on her breast, and led the other to her pussy. As soon
as I touched it, the heat almost seemed to sear me. I began to finger her,
and fondle one breast while sucking on the other. She was feeling my
scrotum and shaft while I was attending to her, and I thought we might
bring each other off without actual intercourse.

But Anne wedged her knees into the sides of the chair and plunged her
sheath onto my dick. Once again, I felt this woman go absolutely crazy
with movement, bringing herself, and me, off in a shot. My cock felt so
good surrounded by her hot, wet pussy that I couldn't keep myself from
coming and soon sent a wet stream of sperm deep into her. She continued to
gyrate wildly on top of me until she began to feel my erection begin to
soften. Then, she slowed her movements and hugged me. Her mouth was close
to my ear and I could listen to her breath escaping in pants - but she
never uttered a word.

Soon she gingerly got off the chair and walked into my bathroom. Coming
back with two dry washcloths, she cleaned first my crotch with one, and
with the other wiped her sopping vagina. She handed the second cloth to
me, picked up her clothes, and walked to the connecting door and once again
closed it behind her.

Within seconds, I could see an email arriving on my computer.

**FC>That was fantastic. You were so full of semen. I loved it. I'm
sniffing your scent on the washcloth now. You smell so good. Are you
inhaling me, too?

**FC>Yes, it's wonderful. I'd like to come in to your room and eat you
so that I can get an even better fragrance.

**FC>No, we can't. I just want to be your mystery woman. Good night.


At breakfast the next morning, Anne joined me while Fran slept in a few
minutes longer. I asked her if she enjoyed herself last night.

"Boy, did I. You're a great dancer. I thought you would be, and now
I'm sure of it. I've got just a little problem, though."

"What's that."

"My boyfriend is very jealous; I'm sure you understand. If he knew I
was close dancing with you, I think he'd be upset. Can we keep it just our
little secret?"

"Of course. You know I enjoyed it too. You move so well!"

"It's too bad to think that we'll never dance again after this trip,

"Well, we just have to live for the day. Would you like to go dancing
again tonight?"

"I'd love to," she said.

After the morning's lectures and labs, we telephoned back to the office,
and Anne got to lunch late. "Bad news, gang. I've got to go home. The
director needs a report on our progress in a hurry, and Mike can't make it
back from Charlotte. He told me to head back as soon as I can and start
working on it." Since I was teaching email that afternoon, it made sense
for Fran to take Anne to the airport for a 5:30 flight.

At the break, Anne got me off in a corner and said, as unobtrusively as
possible, "I really enjoyed myself this week, Don. It's really too bad, I
wanted a couple of more dances with you."

"So did I. Perhaps the next time we're on the road by ourselves . . .?"

"Well, by then, I'll probably be married. It just won't work. I'm
afraid that this is the end of what we had. But thank you very, very

"The pleasure was mine just as much."

Fran came over to us, disturbing the tete-a-tete, and said, "Hey, Anne,
if we're going to get you on that flight, we've got to be leaving soon.
Don, do you want to have dinner tonight?"

"Sure," I said, wondering if she could sense my disappointment. "Let's
hook up when you both get back."

I taught class the rest of the afternoon, and it ended very late, as
some of the sales reps weren't getting it and wanted to stay and practice
with me. I expected Fran to join me, but she never did. I finally got rid
of the last trainee and went up to my room and phoned the operator who
connected me to Fran. "Hi, I finally got back," I said.

"Good, are you ready for dinner?" the familiar contralto answered.

"Sure, I'm bushed though, let's not make it a big one."

"Okay," she said, "give me a half hour to do some stuff here in the
room, and then I'll phone you." I agreed and hung up.

I logged on, hoping to find a message from FORTUNE.COOKIE, but there was
nothing. "She's probably still in the air," I thought.

About 5 minutes before I expected Fran to call me, I heard a knock on
the door. Opening it, a gentleman in a funny looking uniform said, "Room

"I didn't order anything."

"Mrs. Wilson ordered it, sir. May I bring it in?" I figured Fran had
decided that we didn't need to go out, and that she'd be joining me soon.

"Sure," I said, "go ahead."

He came in, and set up the table with two places. Fran had ordered
shrimp cocktails, spaghetti in olive oil and a bottle of white wine. It
was fine with me; Fran and I had eaten enough times together (usually with
Anne!) that she knew what I liked. He left, and I phoned Fran again,
through the operator, but just got a busy signal. "Now that the game is
over," I thought, "I've gotta get her room number."

A few moments later, I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it,
there was no one there. I figured Fran was playing another trick on me.
But soon, I heard another knock. This one wasn't coming from the front
door. Opening the connecting door, I found a beautiful girl, dressed as
she had been the previous nights, including the veil. My Anne hadn't left
after all!

"May I come in? Again?" she asked, and then curled up into my surprised
arms. I was confused, as the voice was low.

"Fran?" I queried.

"It's me, my lover," she replied, removing the veil.

"It was you?"

"Yes, both nights. Did we fool you?"

I tried to pretend that I knew it was her the whole time, but she
tickled me until I confessed that I thought she was Anne.

She asked me to strip to my briefs, which I did, and poured the first
glass of wine. We sat down to the table to begin our dinner. The giant
shrimp were typical hotel quality, rubbery and straight. Looking at this
grotesque object, Fran said, "I've heard that women taste like fish. Do I
taste like this?"

"I can't remember. I've only tasted you the one time. Let me check."
Holding one of the shrimps, I crawled under the table, removed her panties,
put my head between her legs and tasted first her pussy and then the
shrimp. "Nope, you don't taste like you've ever been frozen," referring to
the temperature of her hot cunt. For awhile, I continued to go back and
forth between her clitoris and the shellfish, until I got her to a point
where she was very interested. Then, on a whim, I put the shrimp into her
and used it as a dildo. In no time at all she started squealing - short,
sharp shrieks unlike any I've heard from a woman before. As she calmed I
went back to my chair.

"Now let's see what you taste like." I moved around so that she could
have full access, and as she knelt in front of me I allowed her to strip
off my briefs. "I'm still hungry" she said, and with that took some
strands of spaghetti and wrapped them around my dick. Placing her mouth in
position, she began to nibble the pasta, and my tool in the process. She
alternated between sucking my cock, and rubbing it with the olive oil. It
didn't take long until I ruined the pasta by putting more sauce on it.
"That's one way to improve this food!" Fran laughed.

Neither one of us was really hungry anyway, so we gave up on the
unappetizing meal, and began in earnest on each other. I found that Fran
was an eager, uninhibited lover, and she encouraged me to do anything I
wanted with her, and thought up things to try on her own. We screwed for
about 2 1/2 hours, and then fell exhausted together in the disheveled bed.
Fran slept with me that night, and woke me about 5:00 in the morning - this
time, we made slow burning love, sometimes with me on top and others with
her in the commanding position.

The third day of classes went pretty much as expected, although I was
constantly undressing Fran in my mind as she lectured in her blue business
suit. This was our last night in town, and the reps decided to thank us by
taking us out to a nice restaurant that evening. It was the kind of thing
that you can't refuse. I enjoyed myself, but couldn't spend any time
talking intimately with Fran.

Back in the hotel, Fran accompanied me up the elevator and to the doors
of our rooms. Before opening hers, she flowed into my arms and kissed me.
"Don, I've really enjoyed the last three nights but . . ."

I've been kissed off before, and I figured she was cutting it off clean.
I was a little disappointed, but wasn't hurt by it. "You're tired of me
already?" I smiled.

"Oh, hell, no. No, I've had such a great time, and I really want to
continue this. . ."

"Well, come into my room again, then!"

"If you really want me to, I will. But I'm a little sore with all the
exercise. And I have to pack up to leave tomorrow. If I come into your
room, I know I won't want to leave for at least a couple of hours. What I
want to ask is if we can skip it tonight, and see each other again the next
time we're partners."

I agreed, and actually was a little relieved. Although I had to pack
too, all the sex this week had sucked me dry; I'd been wondering how good
I'd be.

Class ended at noon the next day, and we were able to catch a 4:00
flight home, which didn't get us back to our Eastern city until just about
9:00. Fran had carpooled to the airport with Anne, so she asked me if I'd
drive her home. I was glad to help her out. She made me stop in at the
side of a residential road a couple of blocks from her house, unzipped my
pants and went down on me, just enough to give me a raging hard on. She
let me finger her through her pantyhose while she played with me. "Take
that home to your wife. My husband will want to know why I'm hot so
quickly. I'll let him guess the truth."

As I drove the couple of blocks, I got the impression that Fran and her
husband had an arrangement like Lisa's and mine. I asked her if she was
going to let him know all the details.

"Yes, except for your identity, if you don't want me to. I've had a
couple of flings, and he's cool with it. He gets really hot listening to
me tell him what I do with the other guys. Over here, where the light is
on." Squeezing my hand she said, "Can't wait until the next time," then got
her luggage out of the back seat and went into the house.

Lisa was waiting for me when I got to our house, in a new negligee in
front of the fireplace. It didn't take me long before I was ready to
satisfy her. I knew that Lisa was wondering what had happened to me during
the week, but didn't ask. Part of our agreement was that Lisa didn't have
to tell me about her affairs until they were over. This was fine, as Lisa
never spent much time with a guy. Lisa was giving me the same courtesy,
but I had a feeling that I wouldn't be through with this one for quite some
time, so I'd better let her know the story sooner, rather than later.

We cuddled at fireside, and I filled her in on what had happened,
keeping the identity of the girl a secret, just as Fran had done with me.
Lisa handed me a dildo and got me to play with it inside of her. She can
easily have multiple orgasms, and I could see the story of Fran's deception
was intriguing her; I had to stop my yarn several times while Lisa

At the conclusion, Lisa asked, "So the twins set you up, huh?"

"I'm sure of it. Anne was pretty provocative, and she hid her room
number from me as well as Fran did. Monday night, they had matching bras
on; I don't think that was a coincidence. Fran redid her nails before
coming into my room. And then, the talk about dancing was full of double

"Do you figure that you and Lisa will go on for awhile?"

"Possibly. Unless you don't want me to have a long affair."

"On the contrary. I've felt a little guilty having the other guys while
you sat out. This will make me a lot easier, knowing that you're getting
something on the side. Not that I've got anything going right now, but it
will give me a clearer conscious. Now tell me again about the spaghetti."
As I did, she climbed on top of me and I spent into her again.


Fran, Anne and I saw each other the next day, a Friday. The way the
program was set up, we spent early Friday morning doing expenses and other
paperwork, and then had a staff meeting at 10:30 to talk about problems and
issues. Management knew we were going to put up with a lot of travelling
during this program, so they decided that we could have Friday afternoons
off as long as our work was done. Fran let everyone know that she had
plans to take her 3-year old daughter to the zoo that afternoon. I figured
that she was telling me that we wouldn't get together while we were in
town. That was okay by me. But Anne did ask loudly in the meeting if there
was any good Oriental food in Denver; Fran shot a rubber band at her.


I left for Miami Sunday night, and Fran flew to Chicago. My partner was
Ted. I set up an email account called TEA.SPOUT. Fran liked the name,
because it reminded her, she said, of how I spill all over things. We
traded love letters (love emails? doesn't sound right, does it?) through
the aliases. Fran is fond of funny little sayings, and any day I didn't my
'sex fortune' I knew she was either really busy or down about something.

I didn't have to go on the road the next week, but Fran was in
Minnesota. Friday morning, once again, Fran announced she was heading out
early; Anne left soon thereafter. I was sitting in my cube, and the phone
rang. "Hi, sweetheart," came the chuckle, "It's Fran."


"Listen, do you have any big plans for the afternoon? I'd like to get
together, if you want to."

"Sounds good," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral so the gang
around me wouldn't know what was going on.

"Okay! I've borrowed an apartment." She gave me the address. "How soon
do you think you can get here?"

"Give me 45 minutes or so. I'm just about done here."

"I can't wait!" she breathed into the phone.

I found the second floor apartment easily enough, and Fran gave me a
fiery kiss as she closed the door behind me. We moved to the couch, and
our hands began discovering each other's body once again. We were going
hot and heavy at each other when the door swung open, and a high voice
called out, "Hey, break it up you two!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked Anne, trying to straighten up. Fran
just sat there, with her blouse open, smiling.

"Hey, I live here. But I bet I know what you're doing here!" she
giggled, looking at the disarray. "And guess what I brought - Chinese!"

The three of us ate lunch together, and the girls were busting my balls
about how I'd been set up first in Denver and then here in Anne's

"About six weeks before the training started," Anne began, "I was
watching Fran make silly eyes at you. I asked her if she was planning on
doing anything about it. She said she'd like to, but she didn't quite know
how to start it. I can't believe you never had an affair at work before!"

"And you have?" I asked Anne.

"Sure, but you have to guess who with! Anyway, I figured I'd help a
Fran out, and we looked for a good opportunity to ambush you. We finally
got you to carpool with us that day, and when you got that neat fortune
cookie, it was all over."

"Then, when the travel plans for the first week changed," Fran
continued, "Mike wanted Anne to go with you. But she suggested that I go
to Denver, instead. Mike thought about it for a little while, and then
decided that we should both make it. We planned the whole thing out on the

"Boy, were you confused that first Monday morning," Anne laughed. "You
didn't know what was happening at breakfast!"

They continued to rip me until the meal was finished. Then Anne got up
and said, "I gotta go to a wedding gown fitting. You two are welcome to
stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home."

Fran and I started attacking each other once again. This time, she led
me into the bedroom, disrobing along the way. By the time we were at the
bed, we were ready to go. Fran pushed me on to the bed and climbed on top
of me, letting me enter her heat once again. As she was moving her hot
bottom on my cock, she brought her toes up to my mouth and got me to suck
on them. She was rocking back and forth on my pelvis, letting my dick
massage the interior of her cunt. Soon, I was exploding my sperm into her,
and she was spending with me. Fran rolled off of me breathlessly. I went
into the bathroom, got a wet washrag and came back to bathe my lover's
genitals. Fran allowed me to view her pussy unashamedly, and then got up
from the bed to return the cloth to the bathroom.

Returning, she peeped into Anne's closet and said, "ooh, that's nice."
She disappeared into the closet reappearing a few moments later in a black
see through body stocking that fitted her perfectly. She walked a little,
modeling it for me, letting me see how it shaped her breasts and buttocks.
Seeing how I liked it, she returned to the closet and tried on three or
four more of Anne's sexy outfits.

Finally, she came back to the wearing a pair of crotchless panties. I
moved between her legs and tasted her hot cunt. Once again, it felt like
it was burning my nose as I poked it in to get a great whiff. In no time
at all, my nibbling and licking had her coming again. Then I moved her
into a kneeling position on the bed and entered her from behind. This
time, I was slow and gentle. We made it last for fifteen minutes or more.
It seemed like she had one rolling orgasm after another, until finally I
couldn't stand it any more and allowed myself to spurt.

We left Anne's apartment twenty minutes later or so. Fran told me we
wouldn't be able to use this place again, as Anne would be leaving in a
three weeks, right after her wedding. It didn't matter to me, as I figured
I had a surprise for her!


Two weeks later, Fran and I found ourselves together on a plane for
Phoenix. Unfortunately, there were weather delays, and we didn't get in
until nearly midnight. Although it was clear that we both wanted each
other, we decided that if we did anything that night we'd be wiped the next

The next evening, Fran told me she'd take me someplace nice for dinner,
but casual. She drove the rental car into Scottsdale and then up the
mountain road into Carefree where we stopped at a BarBQ for dinner. The
place was dead on a Monday night, and after dinner, she continued up the
mountain and turned on a couple of roads, finally finishing on a dirt path.
As we came over a rise, we were treated to a beautiful view of the Valley
of the Sun that was bathed in the last light of the day with the lights
beginning to come on.

We got into the back seat, and I watched as Fran undressed. Then she
did the same as I stripped. Neither of us had made love in a car in years,
and neither of us were small. We had to move constantly to pleasure each
other and avoid charley horses. But the frivolity that Fran brought to the
situation brought us both to exciting climaxes in the desert.

When we returned to the hotel, I accompanied Fran to her room, and
figured she'd invite me in to spend the night. But she turned me away at
the door with a kiss, and told me she'd surprise me another time. By now I
was beginning to understand that my paramour enjoyed the situation as much
as the sex, and allowed her the whim.

I was awakened the next morning by the ringing phone while it was still
dark out; I looked at the clock and saw it was only 5:15. I figured the
desk had made a mistake and I was ready to chew them out. But it was Fran.
"Come on down to my room. You've got to see this."

When I got there the door was cracked and I walked in. The room was on
the opposite side of the hotel from mine, and I saw Fran in a yoga position
on the bed, silhouetted by the first light of dawn coming through the open
picture window. For the next hour we made love and watched the sun peep over the mountains. Fran enjoyed this so much that I came to her room at
the same time the next two mornings.

One night that week, we were at dinner, and I asked her for more details
about her life at home. Fran told me how she had married her husband 8
years ago. They were sort of opposites; he was moody, and Fran felt that
she was able to help him by being lighthearted. On the other hand, he
assisted her by keeping her feet on the ground. Except right at the start,
sex had always been okay between them, if a little boring.

After they'd been wed 3 years, Fran got pregnant. It had been a
difficult time, and in the fourth month, the doctor advised her to give up
sex for the duration. A few weeks after she delivered a fine, healthy baby
girl, Harry didn't seem to be much interested in continuing their sex
lives, although he would boink her ineffectually from time to time.
Sometime later, it came to light that Harry was having an affair with a
coworker. Fran initially was very upset, but then they talked about it,
and decided that, rather than get a divorce, they'd simply allow each other
to have sex with other people. She'd had three affairs since then, all
short, and her husband had a couple. It worked out well, and since they
liked to talk about their other lovers during romance, their sex life
together livened up, until it was fine now.

She quizzed me, and I told her our similar story. We postulated that
quite a few married couples our age, perhaps as much as a quarter, had
similar arrangements.


A couple of weeks later, Fran and I found ourselves on a down week
together for the first time. Because of the tough travelling we were
doing, the bosses didn't mind if we took liberties, such as coming in late
or long lunches. We went for lunch on Tuesday, and Fran said, "I'm horny.
Let's go get a motel room."

"I've got a better idea." I led her to a pay telephone, and dialed my
wife's number at work.

With Fran standing nearby so that I was sure she could hear every word,
I talked with my spouse. "Lisa, yeah it's me . . . Were you planning on
coming home during the afternoon today? . . . Well, I sort of wanted to
use the house . . . Sure, it's Fran . . . Cool, I'll see you this
evening. Love you."

Fran was astounded. "You mean your wife doesn't mind if you bring me
home? Harry knows I'm seeing you, but he'd have a shit fit if he knew we
were in our bed together."

I drove Fran home, gave her a tour of the house, and offered her a
drink. As I made it, she excused herself. I figured she was going to the
powder room. When she wasn't back in 10 minutes, I went looking for her.
She wasn't in the hall bathroom, nor was she in the one in our bedroom. I
figured we were playing hide and seek, and finally found her behind the
door in the guest bedroom, sipping on a beer. But she slipped away from
me, saying "You have to get me undressed before you can have me!" We chased
each other around the house, alternately letting the other person take our
clothes off and then resisting until we were both naked, and then had wild
sex on the kitchen counter.


Fran and I continued our affair through the fall and winter, sleeping
with each other in Atlanta, New Orleans, Cleveland, on the Coast and
occasionally spending an afternoon with each other when we were at HQ.
Once we went to a beach on a warm November. Fran surprised me by
completely stripping by the deserted beach house, and we screwed, worrying
about splinters on the seat. She's like that.

Our company lost the bid to take on the second phase of training, and
Mike held a luncheon for us on the last Friday. Fran didn't make a fuss
over me, as was typical; I don't think anyone in the office, other than
Anne, ever suspected we were lovers.

I returned to pack up my things, and checked my TEA.SPOUT email for the
last time. Sure enough, there was one last message from FORTUNE.COOKIE.

**FC>Love has blossomed. Have fun with it, and it will never die.

I reluctantly purged the message, and terminated the account.


I called Fran a couple of weeks later, and suggested that we should get
together sometime. She readily agreed, but told me to wait for awhile.
She thought Harry was getting a little jealous.

The next Saturday, Lisa told me she was taking me out for dinner. We
went to a nice restaurant, and were led to a table for four. A little
while later, Fran and her husband walked in and were led to our table.
Fran seemed as astounded to see me as I was to see her. Lisa and Harry had
set the whole thing up. They each wanted to meet their spouses' lover, and
each other.

We had a pleasant meal, and although nothing was baldly stated, it was
clear that Lisa and Harry didn't mind if we continued our affair.I On the
ride home with Lisa, I asked her what she thought of Harry. "He seems to
be a nice man," she observed.

"Well, would you like to have an go-around with him?"

"No, he's not really my type. A bit of a cold fish, if you know what I

"That's too bad. I think a foursome could be fun."

"So do I, with the right couple. Oh, if you really want me to, I'm sure
I could seduce him . . ."

"Only if you want to, my dear. Sex should always be fun, don't you
think?" She agreed with me, and although we've had dinner with the Wilson's
three or four times since, I don't think Lisa and Harry have ever gotten

Fran and I continued our affair for another six months or so, and then
one day when we were romantically involved at my house I playfully remarked
that she was getting a little chunky. "I should, I'm four months gone." I
knew it wasn't mine, I'd had a vasectomy years before. "Oh, I'm sure it's
Harry's," she said contentedly, "and what's more, this time I'm as healthy
as a horse. My obstetrician told me I can continue to have sex until I'm
well into the last trimester. Hey, what's that puny thing down there?"

We snuck off with each other once or twice a month until she was nearly
due, and then we just sort of stopped. We kept in touch, of course, and
Lisa and I even visited her in the maternity ward. Eight months after the
delivery, she still hadn't given me a signal that she wanted to continue. I
figured it was over.

One evening, while Lisa was out of town on a business trip, the doorbell
rang. I answered it, only to hear in that familiar contralto, "Here's the
pizza you ordered, sir!" She was back! Harry was babysitting the kids, and
Fran and I screwed until midnight.

About a year later, Harry got a good job offer up in Boston, and they
moved. Whenever I'm in the area, I give Fran a call. If she can get free,
she does. Once, I even stayed at their house, and Fran crept into my room
late at night.


Some women are to marry, and some women are for fun. I'm lucky to have
two of those.



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