"So, Stan, you think you're up to looking after two women's needs, again?"
Stan snorted. "Not if it's going to be like last night all the time, Denise. I'll have to hire in help!"
"Yeah, right. Try it and see where it gets you. Althoughβ¦"
Stan stuck his tongue out at Denise, who blew a raspberry in return. They both laughed at one another.
They were sitting at Stan's breakfast bar drinking coffee. Denise had brought in some cereal, and they were both eating a bowlful. Last night had been, well,
tiring
for Stan, but enormous fun and yet deeply emotional, too. Denise had been hurting, and Stan had done his best to relieve that hurt. He grinned. He thought he'd relieved it multiple timesβ¦
But now they had to go to work. Stan got up, grabbed the bowls, cups and cutlery and quickly washed them up. With two women to please, he'd quickly found that keeping the place
tidy
was preferable to having
both
of the women in his life jabbering at his ear. Denise wiped them dry and Stan put them away. He turned to see Denise regarding him with a smile, then she leaned in and gave him a kiss.
"Good boy," she told him. Stan grinned back.
"So," she said as they put their coats on, "Anne on for tonight?"
"Yes, provided she's not working so late she decides not to bother."
Denise looked at him, carefully.
"Stan? Are you all right with what Anne's doing?"
"Yes. No. Well, yes, I understand that she's working a lot, but what I don't see is
why
."
"Hmm?" she asked him as they went out of the front door.
"I mean, I know she's got a project she's overseeing at work, but, well, the other project managers don't seem to have to put in the hours Anne is, especially at home," he answered, locking the door.
"So do you think there's something wrong?"
"With her project? I don't think so, the other people in her team aren't miserable enough."
Denise smiled and said "No, she'd be making their lives hell if it wasn't going right. I guess we'll have to ask her?"
"Ask Anne? Just like that?"
"Got a better idea?"
Since Stan didn't, he kept silent. He just wasn't sure he wanted to ask a bald question like that of Anne.
Later that morning Stan went to see Anne. He found her busy at work as usual, along with her staff.
"Hi Anne! How are you today?"
Anne turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles around her eyes. She looked sallow, drained, but there was a fire in the core that was not only hot, but
hotter
. Anne was doing what she did, working flat out with a goal in mind, Stan knew, and was well on top of it. He just didn't know what it was.
"Oh, Stan, hi, love. I'm fine, and you?"
"I feel better than you look, Anne. You look
shattered
. You're working too hard. Coming over tonight?"
"I'll try to, Stan, I really will. I should be over for about nine o'clock, I expect. Will that be okay?"
Stan smiled and said, "Of course, Anne. I'll look forward to seeing you then."
In the event, it was half past eight that night when Stan got a call from a distracted sounding Anne.
'Stan? It's Anne. Look, I won't be able to make it tonight after all."
"Anne, are you sure?"
"Yes, Stan. I'm sorry, but I really have to concentrate on this for a bit longer tonight. Sorry"
"Well, okay, love. I'll order an Indian meal and mope all alone without you. Just joking!"
He wasn't entirely joking. Anne knew that.
"Oh, Stan. I'm really sorry, but I can't leave, I just can't. I can't even explain why, just now, but I will soon, I promise."
"All right, Anne. But I'll hold you to that. I love you Anne, and it's hard for me to watch you run yourself into the ground like this. If you say you're all right, I'll go along with that. For now."
"All right Stan. I love you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
- - - - - - - - - -
Denise came over and once more offered to cook for Stan the next night, but Stan demurred, taking her out to a quiet restaurant to eat instead. They enjoyed their time together, then went back to Stan's place.
Stan let Denise in and followed. He watched as she took off her coat and without pause continued by undoing the buttons on her blouse.
"Stan, you're going to catch flies like that!" she chided him, and he quickly tried to catch up. Then he stopped.
"Stan?"
"Denise, I'm just spellbound. I just want to watch you."
Denise had the last button in her hand, her lacy bra in plain sight, the breasts that Stan loved to see, so much, barely confined. She looked at him, undid the button and spread her arms wide.