Tess Wors It Out

All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

~~~

1979

"Randy, I didn't know you were in town."

"Eva. I didn't plan to be here, but it's certainly good to see you, in any case," Randy said, a suggestive smile on his face.

With a similar smile, Eva said, "I have certainly missed seeing you, too. What's it been, over a year?"

"Over a week is too long," he answered, "know what I mean?"

"Oh, I know. I know. We'll see," she said, licking her lips very sensually.

"What's been happening around here?"

"I've been working, and I'm engaged."

"Wow, that changes things."

"Not necessarily," she assured him with a little giggle. "What's your status?"

"We all have to work, and I have a girlfriend. A real sweetheart that I probably don't deserve. How come you're here eating alone?"

"Boyd's in California on some kind of a business trip. He'll be back in a couple of days. Are you here by yourself?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Let's get dinner, and then, well, we can go to my apartment."

"I have a hotel room next door."

"Ohh, I've never done it in a hotel."

Dinner was good, and Eva and Randy caught up on what had happened to each other over the last year, but it was clear that they had something else on their minds. They left the restaurant and went next door to the tenth floor of the hotel. Inside Randy's room, she went to the big window that overlooked the city and gazed out, admiring the view that allowed her to see lighted buildings miles away, something she'd never seen before.

"Nice view, isn't it," Randy said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"It's fascinating," Eva answered as she began stripping, tossing her clothing onto a nearby chair. In moments, she was naked, framed by the floor-to-ceiling window. She sensed Randy coming behind her and smiled.

She and Randy had never dated. They met at a party, and circumstances found them together in a bedroom. Since that night, they had gotten together periodically for sex. Eva found that Randy's very large cock stretched her nicely, while Randy found Eva's talented mouth appealing.

This evening, all of those special things were accomplished in front of the big window with enhanced backlighting. However, anyone observing from afar, of course, missed the enticing sounds that accompanied the display. When everything was completed, Eva dressed, told Randy to call the next time he was in town, and left. No hug, no kiss, just a subtle smile that said

that was lots of fun

.

~~~

2024

"It's nice of you to stop by, Tess. Anything special going on?"

"Nothing, as usual, Mom. I just thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing."

Eva snorted. "Just because I'm sixty-nine doesn't mean I have to be

looked after

.

"Mon, since Dad died, I feel like I want to be here for you."

"I'm in good physical condition per my doctor, so you don't need to continually stop by to see how I'm doing."

I stared at my mother, puzzled.

Eva extended her arms. "Come here for a hug," she said and quickly had me squeezed tightly against her. "Just giving you a hard time." She chuckled. "You need to have a hot man to check on."

"Don't start, Mom," I said, struggling to free myself. "There are no men that I know who I'd like to spend the rest of my life with."

"Who says you have to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Once more, I eyed my mother and shook my head. "That's not for me, Mom. I've told you before and lots of times, too."

"The right guy can make you feel things you've never felt before, and You'll be anxious to do it again." Eva had a far-away look in her eyes. "Anxious," she repeated.

I didn't consider myself a prude, but the thought of getting naked in front of a stranger and doing, ugh, with him wasn't the least bit appealing. But I could tell from the look in her eye that she had something to share with me. It had happened in the past, and the result had always been jaw-dropping.

"I'll tell you something, but it's a secret, okay?" Mom glanced right and then left as though someone might be watching.

When I just stared at her, she repeated it.

"Okay?"

"I may regret it, but okay."

Eva took a deep breath. "When I was young, I ended up at a place with a guy. We were both a little drunk, and we had sex. We enjoyed it and decided to meet and do it again. It became a regular thing, just meeting and having sex. It was fun, and it went on for years."

"For years?" I questioned. "How old were you when you married Dad?"

"Twenty-four," she answered rather nonchalantly I thought.

"It couldn't have been many years, then."

She looked away for a moment, then back at me.

"The last time was three years ago."

I could feel my eyes bulging. I was horrified. She would have been sixty-six. "You mean you were doing that all the time you were married to my father?"

"Not often. Once a year or once every two years. Just whenever."

"You were unfaithful all that time?" My voice had raised about an octave and also ten or twenty decibels.

"No, I was never unfaithful."

"Mom, you were having sex with another man." I was standing now, unable to stay still with what she had revealed to me.

"I loved your father more than life itself. It was just a diversion, like going shopping or visiting Grammy."

My mouth was wide open.

Like going shopping or visiting Grammy.

"I wasn't having an affair. It was just casual sex, you know. It was kind of a tradition," she added with a little chuckle.

"Stop. Stop, don't say anymore. I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"Tess, Tom, and I had a wonderful marriage. You were there, and you saw it, and you were a part of it. What I did had no effect at all on the marriage."

Of course, I didn't know every intimate detail of their marriage, but I had to admit that I never saw any problems. My brain suddenly rebelled as I realized I was rationalizing the bizarre thing my mother had just revealed to me.

"I know what you're saying, but there's more to it than that."

"What's the

more

?"

"Don't torment me. You know what the

more

is."

"I know what you think it is, but it wasn't real for me. I had the perfect life: a wonderful husband and marriage, a delightful daughter... and an occasional dalliance that has lasted through most of my life. When Tom died, I thought I might too. But you made my life important, Tess."

The smile on my mother's face nearly brought me to tears, and I knew that life had been a struggle after Dad died. After nearly drowning in sorrow and self-pity, she'd slowly returned to the surface and was again the mother I'd grown up with.

My curiosity was piqued by her bizarre story, and I couldn't restrain myself from asking a question.

"Mom, since Dad died, have you... with your friend." It was very awkward talking with my mother about... this, but I couldn't help but wonder.

"Yeah, maybe twice. Wait, it might be three times, I'm not sure."

"And there's no, well, romance or anything like that?"

"Oh, no, there never has been. He's married and has been since before Tom and I were.". She stopped and smiled at me. "Hard to wrap your brain around that, isn't it?"

"In my forty-one years, I've never felt so out of my depth."

That brought a big laugh from my mother. "I hope I haven't messed things up by sharing this with you."

My turn to chuckle. "I don't think so. I need to digest it a little."

"Since I've shared with you, let me suggest that you might consider doing something, not necessarily what I did, but something to have a little interesting fun in your life."

I squinted at her. "Mom, are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"Maybe. I suspect that you're still a virgin, and that means you're missing a wonderful part of life."

I just shook my head. So, I was still a virgin at forty-one-year/s-old. That made me very unique and part of a very small group of females, I was sure. What was I missing that my mother was so adamant about? I'd read stories where women said that sex was wonderful and all that, but I'd never sky-dived, zip-lined, or bungee-jumped either, and they were all supposed to be wonderful as well.

"I don't think you need to worry about my sex life, Mom."

"Apparently, there's nothing there to worry about."

It was time to retreat. "I have a couple of errands to take care of, Mom, so I better be going."

"Okay, Hon, thanks for stopping by. Next time we get together, maybe you can share what your first sexual experience was like."

It had been probably twenty-five years since I'd rolled my eyes at my mother, but I did it this time and headed out the door.

"Bye-bye," she called after me, and I knew she was giggling.

I did need to stop and pick up a few groceries, but I realized that I was gritting my teeth as I drove to the store. And, when I tried to think about it, I couldn't remember what it was that I needed at the store. Mother's revelation had shocked me and I think I hadn't snapped back yet. And she had the nerve to suggest that I might want to do something similar. Well, not exactly similar, perhaps, but still the idea of having sex for sex's sake.

She wasn't aware that, had I wanted rewarding sex, I could have had it recently. It would have involved my landlord, Dean Chandler. He'd flirted with me ever since I first became a tenant, but it had always been relatively harmless. I guess he suddenly decided to move things up a step. He'd stopped in the shop as he often did.

"How's my longest-term tenant doing these days? I haven't been in for a while."

"Although there are no customers at the moment, business has been excellent recently."

"Tess, that's great to hear. There's something I've never asked."

"You'd better ask, then."

"Where do all of the antiques you sell come from?"

"Well, Dean, I frequent antique auctions and sales and pick up things that I feel are undervalued. People also come in with antiques to sell. Plus, I have a couple of friends who keep an eye out for me. They've come up with some wonderful finds."

"Excellent, excellent. And how about you? How have you been doing?" He'd stepped closer to me as he asked the questions.

"With all that's involved with the business, I don't have lots of free time, but I have a few good friends I get together with when I can."

"I've been expecting to see a man join you here and help run the shop."

I chuckled. "It hasn't happened, and it probably never will."

"Don't talk like that, Tess. You're not near old enough to give up. I'm sure there's someone who'd be more than happy to make you his wife."

Dean winked at me as he said that. And I think I was catching the undertone of what he was saying.

"I don't know, Dean. I really like haven't given up yet."

"Good. Oh, there is something I need to tell you. It's been a while since the last one, but I need to raise the rent, I'm afraid."

Jarred slightly, I replied, "I'm not too surprised, Dean. I know it's been a while, and I've been expecting it."

He looked away from me for a moment, then back. " First, I was thinking of perhaps twenty percent."

My eyes widened.

"But I finally decided that seventeen percent would be fair. What do you think?"

I swallowed hard, and I knew what I thought. "That's one hell of an increase, Dean. I may have to look for another location for the shop. I do okay, but it's not a gold mine."

"I don't want you to do that, Tess. You've been a great tenant, and maybe we can work things out. You know, in the old times, barter was used in place of money in lots of cases. If you had something of value, you could barter and use it in place of money."

What he was saying suddenly began to register, but I wanted to hear it from him.

"Go on, Dean. I want to hear what you're suggesting."

"Well, It's simple," he said. "You have something that I'd like, and it could do away with the raise in rent.

"And what do I have, Dean?"

"Your wonderful body," he replied simply."

"Go on," I suggested, trying to maintain an evenness in my voice.

"I don't think I need to explain what that means, Tess."

"No, probably not. I'll begin the process of closing the shop tomorrow."

"Help me out here, Tess. I'm sixty-one years old, and I'm just about out of chances."

"Are you serious, Dean?"

His shoulders slumped, and he shuffled his feet, then took a deep breath. "I guess I apologize, Tess. It was a bad choice and idea. It probably doesn't matter now, but I don't want to lose you as a tenant. I'll stay away from your shop, keep the rent the same, and cancel next month's rent."

He still hadn't looked at me.

"I don't think I'll be changing my plans, Dean."

Without looking at me, he left the shop.

I stood staring at the door and trying to fathom what had just happened. In effect, I think a sixty-one-year-old man had just propositioned me... in his own unique way. I wondered if every forty-plus woman had this happen. But I still needed to move the shop, something I certainly wasn't looking forward to.

~~~

Dean had barely disappeared when the shop door opened, and a very pleasant-looking gentleman came in. He looked around casually, then spotted me.

"Are you Tess?" he asked with a big smile.

"Yes," I replied. "May I help you find something?"

"Probably. Does it matter that I don't know exactly what I'm looking for?"

I chuckled. "You aren't the first person to come in here with that problem. But if we chat for a while, perhaps I'll be able to help you find what you don't know you're looking for."

His turn to chuckle. "If we're going to chat, you need to know that my name is Mark. And you're not going to be sneaky and sell me something I don't want or need, are you?"

"I don't think I'm clever enough to do that, Mark. But I love to talk with people about antiques."

"I'm a blank slate, for sure. I went with a friend of mine to visit his parents, and they were antique lovers and antiques, as well." He laughed. "I was fascinated, and they told stories about many of them. I was amazed, and here I am."

"Let me make a suggestion, then. Browse around the shop and look at everything. Pick four or five items that particularly interest you, and we can talk about them. I don't know the story of every item here, but I might have general information."

"I don't want to interfere with anything.'

I made a point of looking around. At the moment, we're the only two people here, so I don't think you'll be bothering a thing."

"Thank you. I'll do just what you've said."

As Mark began moving around the shop I decided he was an amazing breath of fresh air after what had happened with Dean. I always enjoyed talking about antiques with people, and Mark seemed to have a genuine interest in learning. Plus, he'd probably be buying, and that would be pleasant, as well. Selling was a main interest of mine, and that required customers.

I got involved with paperwork and totally forgot about Mark, but hadn't forgotten about what I'd told him. I suddenly became aware of him standing quietly in front of the counter.

"Mark, I'm sorry. Do you have questions?" His warm smile helped assuage my embarrassment.

"I found four things that I think are beautiful and very interesting."

He led, and I followed. When he stopped, I had to laugh as he pointed out the four items.

"This must be Kismet, Mark. You've picked out items whose stories I'm familiar with."

"I love the beautiful marble tops on three of them. And the pastel is gorgeous."

"The washstand and dresser go together, and they were originally the property of the fire chief of Richmond, Virginia, who was killed immediately after the end of the Civil War when he was attending a political meeting and the balcony in the courthouse collapsed. The items were passed down through the family for all these years until the current generation decided they were only worth what someone would pay for them. And that someone was me.

"I loved watching your face as you told that story. You're passionate about antiques, and it breaks your heart to see people who think their only value is the dollars they can bring in."

"I guess it shows, doesn't it? Sometimes I sit here in the shop, stare at the antiques... and dream." I hoped I didn't have tears rolling down my cheeks, but the way Mark was looking at me made me believe he understood completely.

I explained the story of the other two items, and Mark shook his head in amazement.

"I think I'll start with the washstand if that's okay with you."

"Start with the washstand?"

"I've always lived in a furnished apartment, and I recently bought a house that I want to turn into a home. The house was built in 1910, and it needs antiques. They fit there. How much do I owe you?"

Yes, how much did he owe me? "Mark, you've made a wonderful impression on this antique lover. You owe twenty percent less than the price on the item."

"Tess, that isn't right."

"It sounds right to me."

He sighed. "It's your shop, so okay. I'll be back to buy more and to learn about antiques if that's not imposing."

"Not at all. I look forward to it.

I helped him load the washstand into his SUV, bid him goodbye, and went back inside.

The next morning, I contacted a commercial real estate agent and looked at three possible sites for my shop. I learned several things. One, none of the sites were as nice as the one I already had. Two, it would be very expensive to convert any of them to what I already had. Three, they were all much more expensive than even Dean's proposed increase.

I had the chance to cut off my nose to spite my face if I chose to do it. Was it subverting my morals if I stayed where I was? Practically speaking, it was the wise choice. I decided to ignore what I'd said, swallow a little pride, and stay put. Besides, only Dean and I knew what had happened.

Back to reality and my shopping trip. As I shopped, my mind was busily working. Even if I wanted to follow my mother's recommendation, I wasn't sure who I might do it with. I smiled. That might be an interesting game to play.

Who's the Lucky Guy?

I put a head of lettuce in my cart, and began the game.

The first name to pop into her mind was Ryan Shepherd. He came into my shop regularly, and had purchased several expensive antiques over the years. We'd had a date when I'd first opened the shop, which was many years ago. But Ryan had met someone else, married, and then divorced. We'd had a second date while he was single again, but he'd married and divorced once more. A third date followed that, but nothing had come of it. But, he probably knew what he was doing with regard to sex.

I wasn't sure about others, but when I thought about myself, I had to smile. Yes, I was forty-one years old, but I had long light brown hair, brown eyes, and a figure that had softened a touch but was still, well, certainly not voluptuous, but more than adequate, although I kept it mostly hidden. In college, my breasts had been fondled a couple of times, and it was interesting, I guess. For whatever reason, I'd guarded my crotch vigorously.

I'd added hamburger, milk, and donuts to my cart, as well as a box of feminine necessities. A couple more things, and I decided to head home, fix some dinner, and watch a little TV. And think a little more.

The next day, I was at the shop early, and it paid off as I sold nearly five thousand dollars worth of antiques in the first hour. Then, in one of those freak oddities of life, who should walk in but Ryan Shepherd? Was this an omen? Was Mother using some obscure subliminal power to affect my life? It had been several months since he'd stopped by, but it seemed weird that he'd come by today.