Ann: a Love Story

© 2025, All rights reserved -- mimaster

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

I drove away from the plant, looking back at it in the rear view mirror. My thoughts were running wild, going back and forth between helping Ann to an orgasm over the phone, to actually having sex in my office with Nancy, the plant receptionist. I knew I'd taken some dangerous risks, basically thinking with the wrong head. But the only one that knew was Nancy, and I felt very confident that she wouldn't say anything.

In fact, the way we'd left it made it seem very likely that we'd be hooking up again to fuck, although I wasn't going to take the chance of doing that at the plant. I wasn't going to put either of us at risk of losing our jobs. We'd both have to be content with the amazing memory we'd just created.

I was thinking of that as I drove home. Nancy, sitting at her desk, still looking flushed from her orgasm. I could picture her subconsciously smacking her lips, tasting my sperm on her tongue. I envisioned her breasts, now free from the confines of the bra; her hard nipples rubbing against the silky material of her blouse, trying to poke through. I imagined them being so hard that they could be seen from across the room, showing anyone and everyone that she was turned on.

I shifted my thinking, to her sitting in her chair, wiggling her thighs as she moved them to try and stimulate her engorged clit. Did she have her legs close together, crossed to create some friction? Or perhaps she was slowly spreading them wider, inching her skirt up past her knees, exposing her pussy to the open air. Did she feel a breeze flowing over her wet snatch, making her wetter by the moment? Would she have a wet spot on the back of her skirt from her dripping pussy? And how did the soft fuzz of her fiery bush feel to her against the material of the skirt?

The appearance of that red patch of pubic hair brought her long locks to the front of my brain. That was the one thing that was surely noticeable to everyone that would see her the balance of the day. Her hair was majestic, tumbling softly from her head like a waterfall of bright, eye-catching color. She would get noticed, and that would spawn speculation; people in the plant would be asking why. And that would lead to them looking her over closer, inspecting her for signs to explain the reasoning behind her new look in the middle of the day. The idea of her being under closer scrutiny of her co-workers, including her boss Emma, made my cock rock hard again as I got the house. I was glad I didn't have to worry about my parents being home.

I parked in the driveway, and took a deep breath. Looking to my right, I eyed my prize from the previous night. I picked up Ann's panties and took one more sniff. My curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself rustling through the paper bag I'd left work with, fishing out Nancy's. I felt compelled to compare, and I took a long whiff of the red ones I'd just acquired. The smells were similar, yet they were distinct. Each triggered separate memories, like songs that you would hear on the radio that take you to a specific moment in time. I placed all the garments in the paper bag and stuffed them under my seat.

Limping into the house as I dragged my hard cock in with me, I headed straight back to my room. Closing and locking the door behind me, I undressed. I lay down on my bed naked, and slowly stroked my meat. I didn't necessarily want to cum again, but I loved the feeling of being that aroused. I had had so many sexual experiences over the previous five days that the events of that day got mixed into the rest. I had visions of pussies and tits, and various locations and positions flashing in my head. I was exhausted thinking about them, and I drifted off with my hand still clutching my cock.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Don't you have a game tonight, big guy?"

I didn't hear a knock, but I'm sure my dad rapped on the door first. His gruff voice startled me, and I sat straight up in bed. I searched for my clock, and saw that it was almost 5:30. The game was in an hour, and I had to pick up Ann at her house at six.

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks for waking me."

"No problem. Are you eating before you go?"

"You know I never eat before I play anything," I said as I threw on some gym shorts.

"Your mom's asking. Do you want her to save you any food?"

I opened the door and smiled at him. "No thanks. I'm taking Ann out to eat after the game."

"Ann? That's three nights in a row, son. Is there something we should know?"

"Nah... she's only in town until Sunday morning. It's just nice to hang out with someone my own age."

"Well, you know we're having a cookout on Friday. She's welcome to come over. That is, if you're still 'hanging out' with her," he said, making those stupid quotation marks with his hands. I wanted to slap them to make him stop.

"We'll see. Are we still playing golf with Rob and Mack?"

"Yeah... that's the reason for the cookout. We have a tee time right after you get off of work."

"Okay... I've got to take a quick shower. I have to pick up Ann at six."

I hopped into the shower, and quickly lathered up. My mind actually was on the golf. Rob and Mack were brothers-in-law. Mack had married Rob's sister, Carrie. Rob was married to a stunning woman named Paula. Both couples were long time friends of my parents. They lived out of town, and were coming in for the weekend to visit. I loved playing golf with the guys, mostly because they were funny. And, being younger, I usually won a lot of money when we played. Rob and Mack had a habit of trying to tease me to get me out of my game. It was, in their minds, the best way to try and win. Distract the kid, and get him to play lousy... then take their chances with the old man. It was two days before we'd play, and I was already getting my guard up.

I got dressed for the softball game, and took some extra clothes with me in case we decided to go somewhere nice after the game. I put all that stuff in my sports bag, and headed out.

"Are you ever going to eat dinner here again?" my mom asked, mockingly.

"Of course, Mother. I'll be here for the cookout, okay?"

"Bring your friend. We'd love to meet her," she said, ever hopeful that her boy would find the real Mrs. Right.

"California, Mom. Remember, she lives in California."

"That doesn't mean we wouldn't like to meet her, now does it?"

"No... you're right. I'll see what she's doing on Friday, okay?"

"That would be nice."

Dad echoed that thought, saying, "Yes. I'd love to meet the young lady that's brought your smile back."

I rolled my eyes. Now he was doing it. It was one thing to have my mom continually prodding me, hoping and praying to see me find someone. It was another entirely to have my dad join in.

I said goodbye and grabbed my stuff. Hopping into my car, I looked into the mirror to back up, and I hit the brakes when I saw the edge of my face in the reflection. I

was

smiling. Dad was right. I really hadn't noticed it before, but even though I'd made some great strides in the last several months, I still wasn't smiling a lot. But ever since the weekend, I couldn't get the smile off my face.

He said he'd like to meet the lady who brought my smile back. He'd meant Ann. And in reality, she was the one. I knew it. But Dawn had a hand in it. So did Jill... and Denise, and Nancy. Each of them, in their own way, had a huge impact on the change in my demeanor and daily outlook. But driving to Ann's house, I had that same feeling in my gut that I'd gotten the night before when I stared at that same reflection in the mirror at the bar. I wondered again, was it love?

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

You'd think a person who had been married before would know what love is. It turned out, I only learned what it wasn't. The ex didn't know what it was. She moved from guy to guy like she was a bee looking to pollinate; random, and often. So I began to wonder if I really knew what love was, and was the feeling I had burning inside my chest really it.

I remembered a conversation with my dad, several months after the divorce, when I'd finally come to grips with the fact that I'd married an actual slut, and not the occasional

'I want to be your slut tonight, darling'

kind of slut. It took a while, but I finally knew that it wasn't my fault that she'd screwed around on me.

We were riding in the car, coming home from a round of golf. I'd played pretty well, and my spirits were pretty good. He patted me on my thigh, like he'd done a thousand times when I was little. That touch always made me feel loved. He said he was proud of me for coming through all I had like a man.

I recalled shaking my head, saying, "Dad, she was so wrong for me. Why didn't you or Mom say something?"

I'll never forget the look on his face. It was wary, like he was tired and beat. "We wanted to, Neil. We really did. And in looking back, maybe I should have. But ask yourself this; would you have listened?"

"No... probably not."

"Just remember, Neil, you didn't go through the divorce by yourself. Your mom and I were going through it too. Parenting never ends... ever. It hurt me just as much to see you hurt then, as it did when you were little, and you broke your thumb. I wanted to take the pain for you, to ease yours. But I couldn't take it away. So I did what I always did. I shared your hurt. And I always will."

When I thought about that, a light went on in my head. He said he shared my hurt, which also meant he shared in my joy. That's why he and my mom wanted to meet Ann so much. They saw the change in how I was acting, even though I was barely around. And that's why he actually asked me to invite Ann first. He knew if my mom did, I'd likely blow it off. But by him doing it, I might actually listen.

I decided I'd at least ask Ann if she'd like to come over for the cookout. After all, if she was my girlfriend for the week, then meeting my parents didn't seem out of the question. And I really wanted to be able to say that she was my girlfriend at least one time in my life, even if it was just for the briefest of moments

I parked in the driveway of the Franklin home just before six, which wasn't bad for getting woken up only a half-hour before. I started to get out of the car to go to the front door, but Ann came out of the side door that led from the house to the garage. The garage door was up, and I watched her bound down a couple of steps and practically skip to the car. I couldn't help but notice the contrast between how she was acting, against how she was when I'd picked her up the day before. She looked so much happier.

She got in the car and immediately leaned over to kiss me.

"Hello, baby. Are you ready to go out and beat Matt?"

"I'm ready to go out and beat off. God you look hot!"

She had somehow gotten out of the house without her mother freaking out and starting another argument. But it was a wonder. The only explanation was that she must not have seen her daughter. Ann was wearing a very short cocktail dress. It was black, with thin spaghetti straps. They crossed as they went past her neck toward her back, which was bare all the way down to her waist. The plunging neckline drooped down below her breasts about five inches. The material was very tight across her chest, and it exposed the insides of her soft white globes. I could clearly see the tan lines caused by the bathing suit she'd been wearing, and the contrast between her tanned skin and the areas that weren't was like night and day. I'd always loved tan lines on a woman, and yet she made them seem so much sexier.

While Ann wasn't as blessed upstairs compared to some girls I'd been with, her breasts were actually perfect. They fit her lithe body type, which was powerful and athletic, yet feminine and graceful. Her nipples were like erasers jutting out through the thin fabric of the dress, announcing their presence. She couldn't wear a bra because of the design, and that only went to prove just how firm and perky her tits were. The dress was tapered, so it hugged her thin waist, and the hem stopped just a few inches below her crotch, showing almost every inch of her tan, athletic legs. Her shoes were black, open toed sandals, but with five-inch spiked heels... a style I'd never seen before. She was dressed for something much more interesting than a softball game. Yet, that's where her mind seemed to be.

"Now, now. You need to keep your focus. Once you're done beating Matt, you can have your mind wander wherever it wants. Right now you need to think about the game. You need to win it for me."

"Well, we should. But it's not a one man team, Ann," I said, tearing away my eyes from her cleavage.

"It is as far as I'm concerned," she said as she stared into my eyes. I was drawn in by hers. They were swirling; shades of brown moving like coffee that had just had the crème stirred in. It took a lot to keep my attention off of her hard body, but her eyes froze me. Then she winked, and I shook my head as she let out that classic laugh I loved so much.

I backed out, and we started on our way to the small liberal arts college in town. As colleges go, it was ridiculously small, with about twelve hundred students, tops. But they did have some very nice facilities. As I pulled out onto the highway that skirted around the edge of town, I figured I'd get the invite out of the way. Then I'd at least know if she was really interested in being with me for the balance of the week.

"Ann, I was talking to my folks a little bit ago. I know this may sound strange, and don't feel you'll upset me if you say no... but they want to meet you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Dad's exact words were that they'd love to me the young lady that's brought my smile back. They're having a cookout on Friday for some friends of theirs that are coming to town for the weekend, and they'd like you to come."

"And what would you like?"

"Well, I always like it when you cum. It's kind of a goal of mine."

She laughed. "I told you, babe... you need to focus. Now seriously, what would you like."

"Truthfully, I'd love to show you off. Since you're my girlfriend for the week, why wouldn't I want you to meet my parents? At least you'll understand a lot more about me, and it'll make it easier for you to get on that plane on Sunday?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know. Just trying to be funny, I guess."

"Well, stop. I think it's sweet that they want to meet me. I hope I don't get nervous about it. I can tell you that I won't cum, but I'd love to meet your folks. I can't remember the last time I went to a good old fashioned midwestern cookout. So, yes, I'll do it if you promise to do something for me."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"My parents want to meet you, too. Tomorrow night. They want you to come over for dinner."

"Uh-oh," I said, in mock horror.

She smacked my arm, just like Dawn had done so many times. "You'll be fine. My mom is a little upset that you've been monopolizing all of my time when they're off work. She thinks I'm using you as an excuse not to have to be home and talk to her."

"And are you?"

"Yes. But that's just the side benefit. The fact that I want to be with you should be pretty obvious," she said as she ran her hand up the inside of my thigh. Her fingers traced lightly over my exposed skin below my shorts.

I let out a little sigh and said, "You are such a tease."

"Not really. I usually put out, if I really, really like the guy. But it takes a couple of dates first."

"That's a problem, considering we haven't been on any yet," I said as I laughed at her.

"I've already counted the bar, and our two lunches together. Any time there's food or drink involved, I'm calling it a date."

"So tonight is our fourth?"

"Yep... you're getting closer to getting lucky every day, baby!"

I felt my cock start to grow, but it was constricted by the cup I was wearing, so she couldn't tell. Still, I couldn't help but be totally turned on. Our conversations always seemed to tinge on sex. That, coupled with her enticing perfume, kept me aroused almost constantly. Then there was her wardrobe. I couldn't help but try to steal glances at her chest. She caught me once, and laughed at me.

"What's so funny?"

"I can't believe you're getting so worked up over my tits. I've never had a guy stare at them like you do. There's not much to them."

"Well, I am an unabashed ass man. We've talked about that before, I think. But, that doesn't mean that I don't look at tits. I'm a man, and we're obligated to look at them if a woman goes out of her way to display them in a way that screams

'hey, look at my tits'

, which is what you're doing in that dress. Secondly, don't shortchange yourself. I'm interested in your tits for a lot of reasons."

"Sure, so you can mock them later!"

"Now

you

need to stop. I would never do that, Ann. Maybe some of your other boyfriends have... but not me."

"Okay, what is it about my tits that interests you so much?"

"One, because they're right out there for me to see right now, but you knew that already. Two would be because whether you believe it or not, they're perfect. You're not wearing a bra, and they stand up proud and firm, just begging to be squeezed. Three, I can tell already you have amazing nipples, and I'd love to suck on them for hours on end. And the fourth reason they interest me is the most important of all."

"And that would be?"

"They're attached to you, Ann."

She let out her own little sigh. She was about to follow that up with something, but I pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot. As I walked around to open her door, she slipped off her shoes and left them in the car, choosing to walk barefoot in the grass to the fields. She grabbed my hand and held it as I carried my equipment bag.

My team was already warming up, and so was Matt's. I took Ann to our dugout, which was on the first base side. She had a seat on the bench, and I went out to warm myself up. Matt walked over and talked to her for a little bit. I could hear some laughter, and whatnot, but at that moment, it didn't concern me.

What did was my arm. I couldn't get it loose. It actually hurt a little above the elbow, and it became obvious to me that I'd overdone it during the tournament in Michigan during the weekend. It had been a long time since I'd played that many games in such a short amount of time, and even though it was Wednesday, I still hadn't recovered. The part that got me was that it didn't hurt at all until I threw.

I talked it over with a couple of other guys on my team. We only had ten players for the game, something I'd gotten used to in Michigan. So I had to play the field. After some initial concern about me not playing at short, we all came to an agreement that I was still better off playing in the infield than catching. So, I moved from shortstop to first base defensively. It wasn't like I was in over my head. I'd played first many times before, and I prided myself on being pretty good wherever I played. It was more that we didn't have many good options at shortstop. I left it in the hands of the guy running the team, who made out a lineup.

Matt had moved back to his side of the field, and Ann sat quietly waiting for the game to start. I came back to the bench and sat next to her, not even thinking about what they might have talked about. It didn't really interest me. Her chest was calling out to me again. My teammates heard the same call. All of their eyes seemed to dart back and forth between somewhere else and her boobs.

"See, guys see tits, and they have to stare. It's a rule," I said with a grin.

"I'm not sure I should sit here," she said, thinking she was distracting us.

"I want you to. They just decided to play me at first because my arm is bothering me. I like the idea of you being close."