Impulse – Results Pt. 03

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*** Authors Note: Part 3 obviously picks up where Part 2 left off. While I make the suggestion to read from the beginning, a couple of refresher notes:

Characters previously introduced:

Phil – Main protagonist. Wealthy 40-something white male who reshaped his entire life following a workplace accident. Has had a lifelong tendency to act rather impulsively, sometimes with mixed results.

Stacy – Phil’s physical therapist and friend.

Karen – Stacy’s roommate.

Paul – Phil’s live-in personal assistant. A minor character at most.

Phil, Stacy and Karen had just spent a day getting to know each other on the local nude beach.

If you’re looking for sex, this is the section for you. I debated leaving this section without additional background or context as the whole “fuck story” concept just isn’t quite my style but, in the end, this is where the breaks most naturally happened. Big changes coming in Part 4!

—————–

It was two days before I saw or heard from Stacy again, at our first of three workouts that week. She looked good, she worked me out well, it was a pretty typical day. I admit that I was beginning to have issues separating our professional and personal lives (really, I just wanted to be around her, naked, all the time) but it was obvious that she did not have those same issues with separation.

The day after we were off and I spent it doing random errands and exploring. More and more I was thinking that I needed to start some sort of business as I was really getting bored. I wasn’t upset with myself for having sold off all of my previous business interests, more just was coming to terms with the fact that it wouldn’t be a prudent long term decision to having nothing to occupy my mind and time. I spent a couple of hours at the beach that day but did not see Stacy or Karen there at all. Still, it was nice to get out in the sun, to feel it beat down on my skin, to soak in its magical rays.

The next morning I woke up a little bit earlier than normal, stirred by a sound I was unaccustomed to at that point in my life: water running in my shower. I was a bit groggy as I walked into the bathroom, wearing my typical Florida sleep attire of nothing and finding the silhouette of a figure showing behind the semi-foggy glass door.

“Good morning, Stacy,” I said out loud, though not necessarily directly to her, and went to take a leak.

“Damnit, I am so sorry.”

I turned over my shoulder to see her hanging halfway out of the shower.

“I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you up, Phil. Really sorry about that.”

“Nah, it was time to get up anyhow.”

The water stopped and after a moment or two she stepped out.

“I didn’t even have a towel, so much for my awesome plan.”

I grabbed a fresh one and handed it to her.

“I don’t know,” I said, eyeing her up and down, “I don’t think I mind a wake-up call like this.”

“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” she responded with a wink.

I went to the sink to wash my face a little. I rarely showered before my morning workouts, knowing that I would soon be sweaty and needing to shower again. Stacy dried off and hung up her towel before stepping up to the side of me and leaning herself onto my back shoulder. We locked eyes in the mirror and she whispered in my ear.

“You know, we haven’t had any more of that ‘non-professional’ time since our one go at it. Why is that?”

I was surprised to hear her bring it up. I figured she didn’t want to and that is why we hadn’t. Being how in control she was in all other aspects of our activities I never pressed the matter. My thought process was if she wanted to be with me she would. I turned around and pulled her into me and kissed her.

“Any time you want to be with me, I’m ready. I just don’t want to push you.”

She held me tightly and returned my kiss.

“Thank you. I can appreciate that too. After my divorce and getting my business going I know I was looking to take things at my own pace, even with all of that talk I gave you last time about being okay with keeping things casual. Anyhow, I know now that I am ready and can also say that sometimes a girl needs a little push to get things going… even me.”

I found my hands drifting down to her ass as we kissed a little bit. Stacy moaned a little as I worked each cheek in my palms before pushing herself out of my arms and away from me.

“Cool it, mister. I was still very serious about your workouts coming first. Get yourself dressed and let’s go.”

Stacy reached down and gave my budding erection a couple of gentle squeezes, enough to remind it of the simple pleasures of a woman’s touch and enough to make me very sad she was making me quit what had been turning out to be a great morning otherwise. Instead, we got dressed and went up to the gym.

My workout sucked.

My head and heart just weren’t into it. It had been months since I had last had sex, incidentally with Stacy. It had been weeks since I had even masturbated. I was backed up and looking for release. Stacy wasn’t helping me either. She wasn’t escort mecidiyeköy any more overtly sexual that day than any other day, our standard flirting and touching wasn’t any more direct or obvious. Just her presence sucked.

Our workout ended and Stacy pretty much immediately took off, saying she was going to jog back home (the reason she needed to shower at my place in the morning) and relax the rest of the day. I bid her farewell and went to take a shower myself.

Sitting in my kitchen and eating a light lunch, I told myself enough was enough.

IMPULSE: I grabbed my bike and headed out the door. I was somewhat upset with myself for not having a car at that exact moment but the bike would have to do. Besides, it wasn’t that long of a ride. Sure, I had to use the GPS on my phone. Sure, it took me 14 minutes instead of 6. But these are first world problems.

I stashed my bike and went to the front door.

RESULT: Stacy answered, her hair was wet and she was wearing something similar to the last time that I had seen her at home, a loose, thin cotton T and a flowing wrap fashioned as a skirt of sorts. Without makeup, but obviously refreshed, she looked beautiful.

“Phil! Hey! What are you doing here?”

The words had barely made it out of her mouth before I stepped through the doorway and into her. There wasn’t much more she could say as my mouth was immediately on top of hers. She didn’t resist me, rather wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back with a sigh and submissive whimper.

We took our time, somewhat surprisingly. It wasn’t like that first time, fast and desperate. We savored every bit of the time and one another. We had made our way to her bedroom, shedding our clothing along the way and creating a little evidence trail in our wake. Hitting the bed, our warm, nude skin pressed against each other as we continued kissing and exploring one another with all of our senses.

With my lips I discovered she liked to be kissed just behind her earlobe.

With her hands she discovered a pleasure point of mine pressing directly onto my back just above my tailbone.

I found with my fingers that after I opened her petals and found her button, she preferred a gentle pinching motion as opposed to repeating circles.

She found that I preferred a very “wet” experience when she took me in her mouth.

We talked the entire time. Not in any sort of awkward manner, rather just guiding each other along as to what we each like and do not like, like lovers should but rarely actually do.

When we finally formally joined, me on my back and Stacy using her hand to guide me into her well-warmed opening, we continued our exploration. Still taking our time. Trying different positions, talking about what each of us liked or didn’t.

Stacy liked to have a lubricated finger gently ring her asshole.

I did not.

We found ourselves in a doggy-style when I felt that final, unavoidable sense of orgasm coming on. Until that point every time I felt an inkling we had just slowed or stopped, allowing us to continue on.

This time there would be no continuance.

Stacy had already been working her own clit when I told her I would be finishing soon. For the first time, there was urgency. She asked me to fuck her… hard.

I knew I wouldn’t last in that position or with that speed but I held out as long as I could. With my head thrown back and my eyes closed I humped wildly and continued with my left thumb pressed against her rosebud and my right hand on her hip, moving her body in coordinated opposition with mine.

“Oh, God, yes!” she cried out, otherwise up to that point moaning loudly.

Her words took me by surprise and I looked down to find my thumb now in her ass, half of the digit now wiggling inside of her.

“Don’t stop!”

I could feel her contracting, squeezing both my thumb and my cock and coaxing the cum out of me.

“Here I come,” I said in a breathy, labored voice.

“Stay in me,” she countered, “keep fucking me.”

It wasn’t like I had never heard her swear before. Not to say that she was foul-mouthed, more that she cursed in humorous or frustrating situations. This was neither and, to say the least, it was hot.

I came.

Stacy came.

We came together and we both came hard. It was finally no longer the sensual lovemaking that we had experienced up till that point, it was much more primal.

Time stood still for a moment after we both finished, our bodies exhausted but somehow unable to move, even to collapse. When I finally did come to I sort of fell down, somewhat on top of, somewhat to the side of Stacy. She fell with me.

We laid there for a moment, both panting and sweaty, my thumb out of her but my rapidly-deflating cock still in her. She wiggled a bit, the worst feeling ever, the movement on a post-orgasm dick, and I realized that I had just better get it over with and pull out.

“Grab me a couple tissues,” Stacy lethargically asked.

I did her bidding from the box on the side-table.

“That was even better merter escort than the first time,” she said “I can’t believe I haven’t had sex in that long.”

“You and me both. Why did we wait again?”

Stacy rolled over on top of me. Our sweaty skin did not matter, it felt so nice together.

“I don’t know. I only know it won’t be that long before our next go.”

We stayed in bed for a while, cuddling and hugging each other, drifting in and out of sleep for a couple of hours before our orgasmic fog wore off and we were each greeted by a second wind of energy.

The second session was as good as the first. We started in the kitchen, made our way to the shower, and ended up on the bathroom vanity. None of them were necessarily the most comfortable of positions, but our sync and connection made up for it. I hadn’t expected our third session to be quite so fast soon considering the time it took to get to our second but, Stacy was right, we wouldn’t be waiting that long again.

————–

It was still early evening when we found ourselves outside on the patio, Stacy in her original outfit from when she greeted me at the door earlier in the day and myself in something similar. Like the tourist vision of a Hawaiian native I was nude other than for one of her loose wraps tied around my waist. We had been enjoying the warm air in the shade of the patio and were contemplating going into the hot tub, a new addition to the patio since the last time I had been there, when we were interrupted by a voice.

“You have got to be kidding me. Do you two ever wear clothes?”

Obviously I didn’t even have to turn around. Karen was home.

“Hey, Kare, care to join us?” At least Stacy turned around when she greeted her friend.

“Do you have booze?”

“We certainly can. Tough day?”

“The worst. You get drinks, I’ll get changed.”

Karen was already gone by the time Stacy and I got up and made our way to the kitchen. It was actually perfect timing. I was personally famished and also ready for a drink. I was instructed to search the fridge, pantry and cupboards and put together some finger foods for us to eat while she made a pitcher of margaritas.

It was easy enough to do, in a house with a personal trainer and a single nurse they had a wide selection of healthy but filling options; Hummus, veggies, olives, some cheeses and tortillas with salsa… finger foods that go perfect with drinks.

Setting ourselves back up on the patio, we found that Karen had made her way outside but was animatedly talking to someone on her cell in the back corner of the yard. She had surprised me in that she was wearing what appeared to be a pajama set consisting of a thin tank-top and very loose pair of shorts. I was surprised, not because I expected her to be nude or dressed similarly to how Stacy and I were, but because I had never met someone who owned scrubs that did not wear them to bed as well.

Her conversation ended and she walked over to us with a scowl on her face.

“I need a drink.”

Stacy poured a large glass of the margarita and handed it to Karen. “Still having problems with ‘what’s-her-face?'”

“Ugh, yes.”

Karen took a very large swig of margarita and coughed a bit with a shocked look in her eyes.

“Holy shit, guys! How much liquor is in here?”

“Let’s just say I decided to pour liberally tonight,” Stacy replied as she poured another glass and handed it to me.

“Well, both of you should know I tend to get a little crazy when I drink tequila. So, because it appears that is what I will be drinking tonight, consider yourselves warned.”

I gulped some of my drink and Karen was right… it was really strong.

Stacy continued her line of inquiry.

“Still about showing skin in the office?”

“Same thing as always.”

I must have had the fact that I was lost written on my face as Stacy clued me in on the scenario.

“Okay, here’s the story. Karen is an attractive, intelligent woman who works with one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the area. Her intelligence and resume were what got her the interview, her beauty is what sealed the deal. Anyhow, the wife of the doc comes into the office on a regular basis and considers herself to be the queen bee of office aesthetics. She makes people remove personal pictures, she makes people do weigh-ins if she feels like they are getting too heavy… some stuff just bitchy, some stuff illegal.”

“…But most of us put up with it because the doc pays really well and otherwise things are great.”

“Right. Anyhow, the wife has taken a particular interest in Karen and, specifically, her tits.”

I felt one of my eyebrows raise. Of course I was intrigued.

Karen was the one who continued. “One of the agreements that I had with the doc when I had my boobs done was that I would be an “after” procedure model for our prospective patients should they need one. So, periodically when patients want to see something other than standard before and after photos I will go in with them and allow them to look at and feel my breasts.”

A aksaray escort smile started to appear on my face but I tried to stay serious.

“It has never bothered me. We are only talking about other women and I have never had a single person do anything inappropriate.”

Stacy interjected. “But that still isn’t the issue, the issue is with the wife.”

Karen continued, “right, so anyhow, like I said, most of the time it is great. We are expected to dress in a sophisticated and sexy but professional manner when in the office or wear scrubs when in the OR. Honestly, I like dressing in my normal office attire as well, I like to feel professional yet feminine and alluring. It’s all good. The problem is the wife. She thinks that everyone needs to show as much skin as legally possible. I swear to God she wants to have us all naked.”

The scenario clicking in my head made me do a double-take. “Wait, so she wants you to show more skin?”

“Bingo,” Karen replied. “I think no matter what it is that I am wearing, she makes comments that it should be smaller, thinner or tighter. She says that we need to be showing off to potential customers what they ‘could’ look like. She says that they only reason that people are coming into our office is because they want to be the sexiest possible version of themselves and therefore we need to sell ‘sex.’ Well, I can assure you that the recent mastectomy patient who is just looking to feel like a woman again does not need me walking around the office like this.”

For emphasis, Karen got up and briefly turned her back to me. I could see that she was fiddling with her shirt. When she turned around she had the tank top pulled down low. Really low. Completely in view were the tops of each of her areola. She walked and stood directly in front of me, leaning down for emphasis, an eyeful of cleavage a foot in front of my face.

“Do you really want to see that?”

Uhm…

Stacy replied for me, “Yeah, don’t answer that, Phil. The whole point is that her boss thinks that everything is fine. He would rather the girls in the office take his wife’s shit periodically than have to stand up to her himself. Plus, now that most of her attention is focused on Karen, the other girls are just happy to be flying under the radar. The question is whether Karen wants to quit, file a lawsuit or just shoulder the abuse.”

Karen was strutting around the patio like a chicken, still with her shirt pulled down, basically chugging her drink.

Stacy whispered to me. “Booze tends to hit her pretty quick and this crap at work has been going on for a while, things might get weird.”

“Hey, here’s to whatever,” I replied, offering my glass for a toast and quoting a Budweiser commercial line.

—————–

The night pretty quickly got better or worse from there depending on your perspective.

Karen was pretty much immediately drunk but thankfully not in a belligerent manner. Instead she got really giddy and touchy with both myself and Stacy. Stacy kept our own glasses full and we were not far behind Karen in terms of lubricated courage. Soon, all three of us were drunk and having a marvelous time.

With liquor goes inhibitions… and clothing. Of the three of us, I was the first to lose the only thing that I was wearing, the wrap around my waist. The circumstances (somewhat embarrassing) were that I was demonstrating for the ladies at their request if I could “helicopter” my dick around. Sure, I thought, no problem… there isn’t a guy out there who hasn’t tried it in his life. We all soon discovered that the “propeller” blade was unable to move properly under its cover. Not a problem for Stacy, she promptly yanked my covering off of me and I spun wildly unencumbered.

It was the ladies bottoms that came off next. Karen pointed out that she could see Stacy’s pussy every time she moved as her wrap was fully opened. Stacy pointed out that she could see Karen’s pussy whenever she sat through the wide open leg of her shorts. I pointed out that I was the only one without anything on. Stacy took it as her opportunity to hop on top of Karen and wrestle her shorts off. Karen half-heartedly tried to stop her, but was more focused on first pulling off Stacy’s wrap… and then her shirt.

That left two of us fully nude and Karen with just her shirt on. Seeing Stacy, wild-eyed and worked up over the pseudo wrestling, as well as myself, fully nude. Karen didn’t even bother resisting. She simply lifted her shirt up over her head and released her breasts to the cooling air.

“Tah-dah!”

We all had a laugh and determined that we wanted the party to go on but were getting cold and losing each of our respective buzzes.

IMPULSE: Step 1, more drinks. Step 2, hot tub.

RESULT: Karen made the second round of margaritas and joined Stacy and I in the hot tub where the water was hot. The girls had said that they had forgotten to turn it down from a few nights prior and it was still at 104 degrees, the max limit of the unit. Maybe that was appropriate for a winter night in the mountains, but a bit too much for Florida. We knew that if we drank too much the combination of the hot water and booze would have each of us incapacitated quickly and agreed to drop the temperature and watch how much we drank. Periodic sensibility is one of the benefits of being an adult.

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