This Old House

Pure fiction. My thanks to my editor Wicked Inside.

*****

The Victorian

Janet sat at her desk, eyes blankly staring at the papers spread before her. She was still fighting the depression that followed the discovery of her husband's cheating and the subsequent, speedy, divorce. She was now free, but freedom didn't feel very good at the moment.

Charley, half a decade older than her 36 years, wandered into her cubicle and plopped down on the corner of her desk. Charley had been her mentor when she started 11 years earlier, and they had worked in the same real estate office ever since. In spite of herself, she gave him a smile, then looked away.

"What's a good-looking girl like you doing inside on a beautiful day like today?" he asked cheerily. She smiled again, and looked out the far windows. It was nice out there. She knew he was trying to cheer her up, and he normally succeeded, for a few moments at least.

"Just finished a pile of call-backs, and trying to decide what to do next." She forced her mind to focus. "Actually, maybe I will get out. I have a couple of buyers coming in this weekend and should preview some of the empty places that might meet their requirements. They both want something available immediately." She turned to her computer and started an MLS search. Charlie moved behind her, not touching her, but watching listings run by and commenting on some of them. They quickly compiled a list, Janet entering the MLS numbers in a list on her iPhone, from which she could call up maps and statistics, while Charley, who preferred paper, hit the "Print" button for each one. Somewhere in this process, it came to be understood that they would take this tour together.

Charlie stood up and stretched. Janet collected her purse. Just being active and doing something was already helping Janet feel better.

"You driving?" Charley asked as he picked up the stack of papers. Janet liked that Charley treated her as 'just one of the boys.'

"Nah, you drive. I'm too distracted these days." She replied.

"Then you're navigating." Charley replied, handing the papers to her.

The tour went quickly. A couple of the properties, foreclosures, were in such bad shape they didn't even go inside. They pulled up to the place that Janet had put last on her list, a much older, Victorian-style house. As they walked up to the front door, Charley looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, this doesn't seem to meet much of your criteria. What's going on?"

"Just a favorite of mine that I keep hoping I can find someone for. It deserves better than sitting empty like this." She replied. Charley shook his head. One of his top rules was to not become emotionally attached to clients or houses. Janet had never managed to incorporate that rule.

Janet flashed her code to the lockbox from her iPhone, and Charley collected the key and let them in. Charley stopped just past the foyer, between the dining and living room. He slowly spun, admiring the old fashioned wood trim, the high ceilings, the solid oak floor, the large stone fireplace, the many architectural details. He let out a slow whistle. "I can see why you love it; what's its story?" he asked.

"There are some code problems with the roof and upstairs plumbing. A buyer would have to be ready to put some money and time into it. Still..." She led him into the kitchen. It had been completely remodeled, but still remained consistent with the architectural style of the house.

The last room on the ground floor was an old English library with one overstuffed leather chair in the corner. "A bit dark for modern tastes." Charley commented. He looked around again. "They also left one or two pieces of furniture in each room. That just makes it look even emptier. Odd."

"Yea. Their broker thinks it helps, and no one can convince him otherwise."

They climbed the old, wood staircase to the second floor and looked around again. The stairs and second floor were somehow older. It had apparently not been remodeled when the main floor was; an incomplete renovation, perhaps? Did the owner run out of money? She didn't know. She looked around, and then at Charley. "Can you feel it? The house is so sad, abandoned. It needs to be loved and filled with life!" She spoke with passion.

"It's just a house, a thing. It has no feelings." He replied quietly with a raised eyebrow.

"I know, but you're still wrong." She answered. He just shrugged. As with most men of his age, he had given up trying to understand or fight female logic. Charley started to open a door when Janet exploded. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" She stomped a foot with each expletive for further emphasis. Charley looked at her in some surprise and she was glaring at him. "I just figured out why this house affects me so much. I'm projecting myself onto it! Look around, Charley! Elegant, even beautiful, in great shape for its age, but old nonetheless. And it's abandoned... unloved... empty." The protective anger gave way and tears welled in her eyes. She turned away, and fought them back while fumbling for a tissue from her purse.

Charley gave her time to collect herself. When she turned back their eyes met for a few moments until he was sure she was under control. He looked around. "I can see what you're saying, but you will eventually see you are wrong. You are loved. It's natural to be depressed a bit after..."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it!" She spat out. "While cleaning his crap out of the house, I found letters from at least two earlier affairs! Damn him! His love has been a lie for a long, long, time!" She took a deep breath to get herself under control again.

He waited again. "I wasn't thinking of him. He was basically incapable of loving anyone but himself, as I've told you before. I spotted that in him early on. You, on the other hand, are loved by many, including some in the office, even if not romantically. You'll see." He said.

"That sounds like friends. Don't get me wrong, I treasure our friendship. Without you, I might not have made it this far." Her voice was soft and quiet now.

"Friends love, just as lovers do." He replied simply.

She took a couple deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you. That bit of insight caught me off guard." She looked around. "So I'm an abandoned, old, Victorian house, huh?" She laughed at herself.

Charley's hand was still on a doorknob. She shifted back to realtor mode: "That room is one of the two smaller bedrooms, and it shares a bath with the other small bedroom down there." Charley opened the door. This bedroom, and the next, and the bath in between, were all completely empty except for some simple drapes on the wood framed windows. Again, high ceilings, solid wood floors, lots of wood trim, but in need of work, especially the bathroom, which had the plumbing pulled out.

Across the hall from the two smaller bedrooms was the master suite. It was much larger, and a lonely looking Queen-size bed, all made up and with a pile of decorator pillows, sat under a large window. Charley went on to the bath, which along with the master bedroom had been renovated and were very nice, again without destroying the original charm of the house and its architecture. Charley noticed Janet was not with him.

Charley turned back. Janet was lying on her back on the bed, one leg dangling off, with a foot touching the floor, and one arm pointing at the ornate ceiling. Her suit-jacket was open and he was suddenly very aware of the swell of her breasts under her light cotton blouse, the slight bulge of her belly and the smaller bulge of her pubic bone (or pubic hair) against her skirt, which was stretched tight across her spread legs. A sensation of heat rushed through his brain, and down his spine.

"Please, don't DO that." His voice was low, flat, demanding, and sounded strange even to him.

He could see her freeze. She lifted her head and looked at him quizzically. "What?" She asked. "Look at the ceiling! All the beautiful scrollwork and ..."

"Don't... Please, get up." He interrupted her. "We are alone in this house, and through no fault of your own, you are way too strong a temptation for me, like that. I'm sorry." He sounded very flustered, maybe even a little afraid. He turned away.

She lifted herself onto one elbow. "What? Are you kidding me? That's not funny, if so!"

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?" There was a flash of defensive anger in his voice and he was almost yelling. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and consciously softened his voice. "I've been attracted to you since I first met you. You were such an awkward but beautiful young woman. Watching you grow into the strong woman you are now, getting to know you better, you are more attractive the longer I know you! What a joke! Here we are, growing old together, working together daily, yet I am, or was, unable to even say anything about how I feel, especially while you were married." He shook his head, and looked back at her.

She stared at him. After a moment she patted the bed next to her: "Come, sit down."

"I shouldn't." He said simply.

She grinned. "I think I can trust you after all these years. Come here."

He shuffled over and sat down, wondering if her trust was misplaced. She put her hand on top of his. He took a deep breath, and opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Let me think." She said quietly, looking down. After a few moments, she looked up and asked: "You really want me? Sexually, I mean? Really?" He nodded affirmation. "Since you first met me?" He shrugged and nodded again. She looked back down. "I'll be damned!" She said quietly. "All these years and I never caught a hint!"

"I learned very young how to hide such desires. They've gotten me in trouble." He said.

She sat quietly for several more moments. When she looked up, there were tears forming in the corner of her eyes. "You are a very dear friend. I would never want to jeopardize that." She squirmed a bit, obviously uncomfortable with her thoughts. She took a deep breath. "However, right now, I could really, really, use a good friend-with-benefits." She held his eyes for another moment letting that sink in, then looked down at their hands, picked up his hand and placed it on her leg at the top of her nylons. After another moment, she shook her head a bit, and moved his hand up to the bare skin above her nylons and under her skirt. His hand burned. Her thigh burned. She looked up at him.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" He asked.

She shrugged. "How about you? Sex with coworkers can be dicey. When I want to revert to friends without benefits, will our friendship be destroyed?"

He could see both fear and anticipation in her eyes. He could also see need. His mind raced through all he knew about what she had been through in the last few months. Could he be her lover, and then stop? He took another deep breath. He couldn't know, but was going to risk it. He wanted this too badly to turn away.

He leaned in, tilting his head. Their lips met, gently, tentatively. He brushed his lips against hers, resisting the desire to just press down. A soft moan of desire escaped both of then together. He broke the kiss and answered her question: "This will change things; I can't say how, but I will protect our friendship as well as I can." She stared back into his eyes, and then nodded.

She smiled. Even her eyes smiled, for a change. Their decision had been made. She lay back on the bed, her mouth slightly open, her eyes locked on his. He knew he was no longer really in control of himself, and that was the way he wanted it, and probably the way she wanted it. He leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers again. He felt her tongue brushing his lips, and his tongue immediately responded. The pressure was rising rapidly for both of them. He started moving his hand, down her thigh, back up the inside of her thigh. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his mouth hard against hers. He lifted his hand from under her skirt and brushed it lightly across her belly, over her blouse, and up to her bra-protected breasts. She arched her back. He squeezed a breast between thumb and finger, sliding the pinch up till he was pulling on her nipple.

She broke the kiss suddenly, taking a deep gulp of air. Her eyes were now filled with lust, with frantic overtones.

To his momentary surprise, she rolled away from him to the other side of the bed. She stood, a bit shakily, and grabbed several decorative pillows, dumping them on the floor. Then she grabbed the covers. He caught on, and followed suit. They carefully stripped the covers back, Z-folding them at the foot of the bed. He noted that she was taking care to keep things neat, a practical domesticity in the midst of irrational passion. She then sat on the edge of the bed and started stripping off her suit and blouse. Again, he followed suit. She fumbled with her purse, finally tossing a little pack of Kleenex out onto the mattress. She rolled back to the middle of the bed in only her bra and panties. He left his boxers on, and rolled up against her side. He stopped to study her body. As she had described herself, she was in very good shape for her age. He had a twinge of self-consciousness, thinking about his gut.

Apparently, she was a bit self-conscious, too. She snagged the waistband of her plain cotton panties with the tip of her thumb. "Sorry I didn't wear something sexier." She said nervously.

He laughed. "Janet, today, our first time, you look extremely sexy, and would if you were wearing old, dirty, burlap. I want you just the way you are. We can play dress-up later, if we want."

She seemed genuinely pleased, and rolled against him, arms entangling and entwining them together. Their mouths met in a deep, open, kiss, tongues clashing happily. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head; his hands started wandering over her body, eventually tripping over her bra strap. He released the clasp with a quick pinch, and kept exploring.

She slowly rolled back onto her back, pulling him over onto her. His hand pushed up between them and under her loose bra, enfolding and massaging a breast. His other hand and arm, under her, managed to just reach her panties in back, and scratched lightly on the skin just above the rear cleavage. His free hand released her breast and lightly scratched down the side of her ribs and across her belly to catch the elastic of her panties. She lifted her hips, encouraging him to start the panties down her thighs. He obliged, then cupped her pussy and pressed hard. He could feel her wet heat. She broke the kiss with a loud gasp and arched her back.

Her eyes were closed and her body stretched taut. He propped himself on one elbow, then lowered his mouth to her closer tit, sucking as much as he could into his mouth while his tongue swirled around her hardening nipple. She gasped again, and pulled his head down against her breast. She rocked her hips against his hand, and he pressed back, then pulled his hand back and slid his middle finger down between her lips, over her clit, and an inch or so into her wetness.

"Oh! God! Yes!" She cried out and thrust her hips at him. He was a little surprised at how quickly she was progressing, how little foreplay she seemed to need. He pressed two fingers deep into her without problem and started stroking the inside walls. She cried out again.

He broke the suction on her breast and slid his hand back out of her, stopping to slowly massage the area around her clit. She focused on those sensations for a moment and then her eyes flew open. "Take me! I need you to take me now!" She demanded. He had been looking forward to exploring her a bit until she relaxed, but she seemed to have jumped right over that step. He looked down at her belly and the neatly trimmed pubic hair, and she seemed to read his mind. "I promise you another time to explore and play all you want; right now I just need you inside me!"

He got up, pulling the bra off her arms as he did. At the end of the bed, he leaned forward and pulled her panties the rest of the way off. She spread her legs for him, giving him an intimate view of her swollen sex. "You're beautiful." He said, staring, mesmerized for a few seconds before remembering to push his boxers down and step out of them. His erection bobbed in front of him in happy anticipation. Janet was now propped up on her elbows to watch, and the way she sucked in her breath made him feel very strong.

He lifted her ankles up and onto his shoulders, forcing her to fall back. He started nibbling down the inside of one calf, knee, and thigh. He stopped short of her pussy and went to do the other leg. "No! I need your fucking cock in my cunt! NOW!" She cried out.

He looked up at her, grinning with surprise, and moved up between her legs to comply. She suddenly put her hands over her face, mumbling "I can't believe I just said that!" and then laughed happily.

He ignored her. "I need to taste you." He said, and then pressed his face into her sex. He rubbed his face back and forth, separating her lips and accessing the inside of her wet, slippery pussy. Her musk engulfed him. He thrust his tongue as deeply into her as he could, enjoying the tangy flow while his hands slid under her buttocks to hold and lift her. He circled the opening with his tongue several times and then circled up and around her clit. After a few figure 8's, he circled in more and more tightly on her clit. In the meantime, she was pumping her hips against his face, and her shoulders were rolling side to side.

He focused on her clit, now sucking and very gently nipping, now circling, now rubbing his tongue flat across the hood, all the time watching up her belly to judge her response. He slipped two fingers past her swollen flesh and into her hot depths. He stretched and stroked the walls with special attention to the soft pad of her G-spot. He watched the normal signs of her building orgasm, carefully pushing her ever higher. Suddenly she screamed, and her shoulders twisted to one side as her legs stretched out taught on either side of his head, locking him in place. He could see the convulsions ripple across her belly, and feel them on his fingers. He moved his fingers faster, increasing the stimulation there. She had just started to come down when a G-spot ejaculation hit her and she yelped in surprise.

"Omigod! What was that?" Her eyes were wide.

"Toss me those Kleenex, and I'll explain later." She did, and he mopped the excess flow off her bottom and his hands while continuing to gently kiss her labia. He tossed the used Kleenex aside, and crawled up the bed, straddling her while pressing her legs back and out. The hunger back in her eyes matched the hunger he felt.

He gently bumped the swollen head of his cock against her. "Would you like to do the honors of putting him in his place?" He asked, teasing her. Her hand flew down between them, grasping his shaft in her fingers. She quickly rubbed the head up and down her slit, while he held back. She glared at him. With a grin, he thrust slowly forward and kept pressing.

He sank his full length inside her without undue effort. Her back arched, thrusting her hips up to receive him, and her eyes rolled up in her head. In the midst of these intense sensations, he thought about all she had been through, and what she had said about being unloved and empty. He lowered himself onto her, still pressing into her, tucking his lips next to her ear.

"I want you." He whispered in her ear. "I've always wanted you. I want to make love to you, all of you, everywhere, all the time. I want to fill you to overflowing." He pulled out to where he could just feel the circumcision ridge at her entry. Her hips tried to follow him, hold him. He thrust again, hard. Reflexively, her arms wrapped tight around his neck and her legs wrapped around his hips, heels pressing into his buttocks. A few more slow withdrawals and hard thrusts and she was on the edge. He started a hard, steady rhythm while continuing to whisper in her ear and he was rewarded as he felt convulsions start around his cock and spread through her body. She was loudly verbal again, but incoherent.