Ann A Love Story Ch 12

© 2025, All rights reserved -- mimaster

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I don't remember how long I stood on Ann's porch. I don't even remember going home. It was like I was transported from her parents house directly to my bed. I know that wasn't the case, since I didn't own a transporter. And if I did, I would have transported myself into Ann's bed... not mine.

What I did remember was that I loathed my alarm clock. Morning came at me with a vengeance. The sun hit my room like a cop's flashlight in the window of a car parked on lover's lane. I woke up startled, dazed, and more than a little confused. I looked around my room, wondering how I got there. I still had my pants on. I'd never been more disoriented waking up, and I'd only had two beers.

I didn't hit the snooze button, knowing I'd never wake up if I did. The shower was a paradox. Standing under the hot spray so early in the morning, I felt dead to the world, but it was that very thing that was bringing life to my body. I hated it, and loved it at the same time.

By the time I was toweling off, I felt better. I wasn't exactly rested, but I was at least upright. I stumbled out of the bathroom, back into my room to get dressed. After cleaning up my room, I headed down the hall, and could already smell the lifeblood that I longed for, brewing in the kitchen. God bless my mom for being the morning person I wasn't.

It was the first time I'd really sat down and talked to her since I'd gotten home from my weekend in Michigan. I'd been so nervous to have her ask questions about that trip, fearing I'd say something that would only lead to more direct questions. But that trip was a distant memory for both of us. Mom was a 'in the now' person, usually only concerned with what was going on at the moment. And my quick breakfast was no different.

"You've really been staying out late, Neil. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?" she said in a motherly tone.

"Probably not. But your coffee makes up for that. Thanks for making it," I said as I took another sip.

"It won't make up for it that long."

"I know. I just have to get though Saturday. Then I'll probably be sleeping a lot again because I'll be depressed."

"Neil, don't talk like that!"

"I'm kidding, Mom. I just meant that Ann will be going home Sunday morning. I'm not looking forward to that. But it is what it is, and I'm going to enjoy every moment I can with her. So, if that means a few more late nights, I can deal with that."

"Well, it's too bad she doesn't live closer. Where did you go last night?"

"I took her to dinner at the Holiday Inn. And then we went dancing at the Starlight. They had a live band that was pretty good."

"On a Wednesday? I thought they only did that on the weekends."

"How would you know that?"

"Your dad and I have been there several times. Why?"

I shook my head and said, "I learn more about you two every day. Sometimes more than I want to know."

Mom laughed and said, "I'm sure that's true. We'll just stop with the dancing. I won't tell you what else we did."

"Ewww!"

"Hey, we're adults. And it's not our fault it's attached to a hotel. When you get to our age and the mood strikes, you have to take advantage of it. Actually, we've always done that. Age is just a number. And I'm always in the mood."

"Fine... can we change the subject now!" I said, but I couldn't get the image out of my head. Not that I was upset. The fact that my parents were still very sexually active gave me hope for my future.

"Okay, did you talk to Ann about coming over on Friday?"

"Yeah. She said she'd love to come. The only stipulation is that I have to do the same for her."

"What's that mean?"

"It means I won't be home for dinner again. I'm having dinner at her parents house tonight. She said dinner is at six, and she'd like me to come over to visit at five."

"Wow. Meeting her parents. That's a big step."

"Stop it, Mom. California; big plane; has a job; has a life away from this little town."

"So, are you thinking of moving to California?"

"WHAT! No... I can barely afford living here; I'm still living with you, remember. Stop talking crazy. And don't go being all 'matchmaker' when I bring her here. I don't need that, and neither does she."

"I'll behave. We just want to meet her, Neil. Like your dad said, you've been yourself again this week. And we'd like to be a part of the good times too."

That statement really hit home. My mom was right, and that hurt. They'd had a front row seat for the train wreck that was the end of my marriage, unable to stop it, or to look away. They'd sat ringside through the divorce, reluctant witnesses as the dirty laundry was hurled back and forth. They'd had to endure endless months of a mental bedside vigil as they worried and prayed about my well being as I slept away my life in depression; hence my mom's negative reaction to my even joking about the subject.

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They had been the casualties of the marital war I'd waged with my ex. They were part of the innocent civilians hit by the shrapnel from the verbal mortars that were fired, without concern for the welfare of the loved ones standing nearby the intended targets on either side of the front lines. And in some cases, they were even wounded by friendly fire, as I'd launched a verbal assault from close range, only to find my weapon had used the wrong coordinates.

My parents never picked up a weapon to join me in that unwanted war, much to their credit. But they did arm themselves with shields, willing to defend the honor of the family name and their wounded son, to the death if need be. In a town where the only blood relatives I had lived in the fortress I suddenly called home, and where those of the enemy seemed to be on every street corner, we were outnumbered. Yet that didn't weaken my parents resolve, or dissuade their efforts to defend me.

In a small town devoid of entertainment, rumors are sacrosanct. They race uncontrolled like a wildfire through a brittle, parched forest. The truth, on the other hand, is like a glacier creeping slowly through the valley. Sometimes the two never meet, and all that's left is the torched, barren landscape where life once was. But sometimes, all it takes is enough determination to fight the fire of lies, holding them off until the sweet rain of truth and justice comes to douse them. And that's what my parents did, day after day, until a change in the weather turned the fortunes of war.

An unlikely alley joined my private war, coming from a different flank, armed with an arsenal of truths that my ex didn't expect. She knew the armory existed, because she was the one that filled it.

My fellow soldier turned out to be the first husband of my ex. The rumors reached him even though he was a truck driver, and was often out of town. He had remained silent about what happened between him and, well, our ex. He didn't want to admit she'd cheated on him. So he didn't offer a reason, choosing to let the marriage die quickly.

When he heard what had happened to me, and the rumors that had poisoned the air, he approached my dad one morning at the local coffee shop. It was a meeting of strange bedfellows, so to speak. But he had just as much family in town as my ex, and the axiom of fighting fire with fire became his battle cry for the both of us.

It wasn't long after that when the tide shifted. The truth about her first marriage finally coming to light from a reliable source that was angered at the way she had callously treated two of us. Suddenly, the truth of what happened in my marriage took hold in the public eye. I was no longer viewed as the bad guy... my ex was.

After that, the war was over, so to speak; only the aftermath was left to deal with. The clean up was the easy part. It was the psychological trauma that was difficult. And my parents had to deal with that, way too up close and personal, behind the walls of the fortress. I would put on a happy face when in public, and try not to show the scars of the wounds. It was when I was home, alone with just the two of them, that the wear and stress showed, and the depression set in.

One of the biggest hurdles had been the fact that I wasn't raised that way. Divorce was not an option, in my view. That's why I had forgiven the first affair. I had this vision of my parents, weathering storms in their marriage, yet always coming through the other side. That's how it was supposed to be. I started the healing process when my dad told me that marriage wasn't the problem; it was whom I was married to.

So, after months, if not longer, of seeing their son languish in despair, I had finally come out the other side. I had weathered that storm, and I was happy again. Yet, Mom was right. I hadn't shared any of that happiness with them. Not directly, anyway. I hadn't been around. I was too busy having fun. Her simple request to have me bring Ann was for her and dad to heal too.

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I'm sure Mom and Dad had talked to the friends that were coming to town, telling them all that I'd been through. It was unrealistic to expect that my parents didn't look to their own support group while being mine. Bringing Ann would be like a victory party. My parents got their son back, home from the war and ready to resume with his life.

"You're right Mom. You should be a part of the good times too. Just don't go nuts on us, okay."

"Alright. You can go get her right after you get done playing golf. Just let her know we'll be eating shortly after, but it might be a little later than she's used to."

"We ate after eight last night, mom. She'll be fine, but I'll let her know. Just so you know, I'm going to ask her out on a date on Saturday. So I may not be around then either."

"What was last night?"

"It was our prom," I said as I walked out of the door.

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The early morning at work went fast. I spent the majority of it on the production floor, since I'd been off it most of the previous day. Things were going really well, and we were ahead of schedule on every piece of equipment.

When break time came, it was a pleasant surprise. All the machines in my department shut down, and I went to the lunchroom to grab a little snack. But someone had forgotten about the gossip machine, and it was still running. And all the rumors were about the sudden transformation of Nancy. I heard all kinds of wild stories; but the only ones that interested me were about what she was wearing.

I got back to my office a little later, and was looking around for a prop to use to go up front and check her out. I needed some excuse, and I was digging through my desk in hopes of finding some task I had put off to avoid making that long walk. As I was sifting through a pile of purposefully procrastinated papers, there was a knock at my office door.

"Good morning, Neil. May I come in?"

Nancy stood in the doorway, leaning up against the door jam with her arm high above her head, and her legs crossed. She had never looked sexier in her life.

"Of course," I said, unable to take my eyes off of her.

She was wearing a red top that appeared to be more of a camisole. It was satin, with two thin shoulder straps, and it scooped low in front to show a huge valley of cleavage. The fact that she wasn't wearing a bra only made me drool more. She also had on the shortest skirt I had ever seen her wear. It was red leather, and it came up to mid thigh, showing the bottoms of her stockings and the garter straps that held them in place. And the stockings were black fishnet, complete with five-inch shiny black pumps.

Her flaming red hair had been curled slightly, giving it a springy bounce as she walked to the chair in front of my desk. Her makeup was not slutty, but it was certainly heavier than she usually wore, including bright red lipstick.

"May I sit down. I'm still getting used to walking in heels this high. I'm surprised my nose isn't bleeding."

She didn't wait for an answer. She sat down, and put one of her feet up on my desk with her knee bent to the side. She smiled as she twirled her hair, flashing her bare pink pussy at me.

"I just came back to thank you again for yesterday, Neil. I think you've really opened my eyes again about who I really am."

"My eyes? I'm guessing everyone's eyes are wide open. God, Nancy, you look... fucking hot!"

She ran her other hand up her thigh, all the way under her short skirt, and she started fingering herself in front of me.

"Thanks. And I really owe it all to you. What you... what we did yesterday; I still can't believe it. As you can see, I had to go shopping after work yesterday. I didn't have skirts short enough. Do you like this one?"

I smiled, and nodded slowly, my eyes honed in on her fingers playing with her clit.

"Do you think it's short enough? I was worried that not enough of my garters would show."

"It's perfect Nancy. You're perfect. Where does the line start?"

"Line? What line?"

"You know; the line of guys that are waiting to ask you out. How long is it?"

"I don't know about asking me out, but I've been hit on quite a bit this morning. So if there's a line, it's to fuck me, not to date me."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not at all. Like I said, I'm a bit of a slut. I guess I just bought into my age, and thought I should act it. The fact that a young stud like you saw what was still inside of me, and wanted to be with me; I feel free to be me again!"

"Nancy, all I did was point out the obvious. You were the one who came back here, remember?"

"Yes, but that didn't mean I was looking to get laid... well, licked. I just wanted to know what was going on between you and Ann."

"Why?"

"Because she sounded so horny, and I wanted to find out what was making her that way. And you seemed to be the logical person to ask at the time."

"So, you have no regrets about yesterday?"

"Fuck no," she said, standing up.

"Good. Look, I don't know where things stand between us, but I want you to know that I really enjoyed it."

"I know where they're going. You owe me a fuck. The fuck we would have shared if Ann wouldn't have stopped us. After that, who knows? You've got me feeling younger again... but I am still forty-two. And you've got a life to figure out. I'm just glad you stopped along the way to help me with mine."

I went to hug her, but she stuck her fingers in my mouth, letting me taste her pussy again.

"This is the benefit of an office slut that doesn't wear panties anymore. You proved they just get in the way."

She pulled away and walked to the door. Turning, she gave me a wicked smile over her shoulder and said, "Have a great day, Neil. I'll be seeing you around."

She gave a little wave, and I watched her walk back up to the plant. Her transformation was amazing. Every head turned as she walked past, and even from behind I could tell she was beaming, enjoying the newfound attention. I only wondered if this was a temporary thing, or if this was the new Nancy I'd see from now on. One thing was clear; she expected me to fuck her, at least once. I wasn't going to argue. But seeing her only reminded me of Ann, and how much I wanted to be with her instead. Any more dalliances with Nancy would have to wait until Ann went home.

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My productive morning now awash in the memory of Nancy frigging herself at my desk, I found it difficult to concentrate. She brought on thoughts of Ann, and I slipped into a daydream of our night together. I was still working; or to put more accurately, I was working at working. I was mentally drifting in and out with the tide of my imagination.

Whenever I was deep into my work, in the zone if you will, and the phone would ring, I viewed it as a distraction; a pesky annoyance that kept me from totally focusing on my chosen task. But when the phone roused me as I was wafting my way through mid-morning, I saw it as a rescue line thrown into the water. I couldn't grab it quickly enough.

"Good morning, Neil Thomas."

"Good morning, baby. How's my boyfriend today?"

"Hey Ann! I'm great, now that I hear your voice."

"Aw, you miss me? We haven't been apart that long."

"I know. It was just really hard to leave you at the door last night."

"It was hard... you mean your cock?"

I let out a little laugh and said, "Yeah, that too."

"Did you go home and jerk off thinking about me?" she said, trying to get another rise out of me.

"No. I'm saving it all for you, babe."

"I hope we get a chance. I don't know how tonight is going to go."

"Don't worry about it. As long as I'm with you, that's good enough for me. I love being with you."

"In that case, where do you want to go for lunch?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Can we meet at The Mug. I've got my mom's car again today."

"Sure. Order me something and I'll meet you there a little after eleven."

"Okay, baby. I can't wait to see you."

I only had a little over an hour, and my renewed spirit had me back on track. Another tour of the floor, followed by a few quick calls to some customers, and it was time to head out.

The Mug was a little hole in the wall bar near Main Street, and it had great food. I didn't go there often, but Ann was trying to hit all the old haunts she liked while she was home, and wherever she was, that's where I wanted to be.

I got there within five minutes, and she was already sitting at a corner table with a beer and a couple of hot roast beef sandwiches, smothered in brown gravy; a house specialty. She was sitting there in a white T-shirt and a pair of tight jeans. The fact that she was in heels betrayed her 'down home' look. She was always going to have some California flare that people in that town would never consider.

Sitting down across from her, I held out my hand. Taking it, I kissed the back.

"Good Morning, Ann."

"Hello, baby! You look pretty good, considering you didn't get any sleep."

"How would you know that?"

"An educated guess. I had trouble, but I got to sleep in, and I came a couple of times last night. You haven't cum since... yesterday with Nancy. So, I can only imagine how hard you were when you went to bed."

"I really don't know. I don't even remember how I got home. I just remember waking up, tired. I'm sure I was hard... I think I've been hard since I saw you at Matt's Monday night."

"Are you sure that's not from Nancy? I hear she's made quite an impression at your plant today."

"Wow... what are you doing, following me?"

"No. I talked to her for quite a while before she put me through to your phone. She told me about her little visit. Tell me Neil, are you going to fuck her when I'm gone? She really seems to want you."

"I have no idea, Ann. It's really hard for me to think about Nancy when all I really want to do is think about you. Right now, you're who I want."

She smiled and said, "I was hoping you'd say that!"

"Why?"

Ann didn't say anything at first. She took a big bite of her sandwich, and after she'd swallowed she said, "Because, you're my boyfriend. Remember?"

For some reason, I didn't think that was what she was really thinking. The bite she ate was a stall, giving her time to think. I got the impression that her question was some kind of a test. Apparently, I passed, but I didn't know what that meant. But I did get a little thrill when she called me her boyfriend.

That thought carried me through the rest of our lunch, and most of the rest of my afternoon. I left her nursing a beer, after I finished my lunch. It was before 11:30, and her drinking might have seemed unusual. To me, it was just another chapter in her book. I'm sure there was a reason, and if I had to guess, it was her way of calming her nerves. After all, we were less than six hours from my meeting her parents. If I didn't have to work, I might have had one too.