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October 1984
"Dean, have you ever been with a man?" Gia Antonelli asked as she lifted her body off the chest of the similarly naked man beneath her, the movement causing the thin sheet around her to drop away, exposing well rounded breasts and light brown nipples.
"What...?" the burly forty-nine year old stammered as he too lifted himself upward, the question having shocked him out of the post-coitus bliss he had been drifting in.
"Have you ever been with a man -- sexually?" the raven haired twenty-four year old repeated, adding the emphasis at the end as if she felt the need to clarify her question.
"What would make you ask that?" Dean Baxter asked, his mind now suddenly clear.
"Oh, I'm just curious, that's all," Gia, whose full name was actually Giavanna, said as she ran a hand through her short bob cut, brushing aside an errant strand before adding, "So, have you?"
"No, I've never been with a man," he said.
"Not even a little blow job?" Gia then asked, the addendum having been meant as a joke.
This time, however, Dean didn't answer as quickly. A delay that caused the Italian woman to wonder if perhaps he had, a thought reflected in her change of expression.
"Are blow jobs really even considered sex anymore?" the athletic instructor chuckled, a response that came across as more evasion than answer.
"They most certainly are," Gia stated firmly, not having ever considered them as anything else.
"Well, I guess, in that case, the answer would have to be yes, but it was just one time," Dean admitted reluctantly. "I mean, it was no big deal."
"If it was no big deal, then you can tell me about it," Gia pointed out.
Again Dean paused, finally saying that he would if she would explain this sudden curiosity.
Gia agreed.
The relationship Dean and Gia shared wasn't based on romance but merely one of friends with benefits. They served as each other's plus one at social events and occasionally shared a bed. A situation that would've outraged the younger woman's traditionally minded family back in Bensonhurst. The chances of them finding out that she was regularly fucking a man nearly her father's age were slim, however, given that they rarely spoke to her since she'd broken her engagement to Paul Giordano, a neighborhood boy she'd known since high school. That three years had passed since then, during which Paul had married someone else, didn't seem to matter.
The two teachers had met at a faculty function at the beginning of the last school year, right after the younger woman had been hired as an Instructor at the Burroughs Academy, a private high school on Manhattan's Upper East Side. At five four and a slim hundred and fifteen pounds, Gia looked more like one of the students in her Mathematics course than its teacher. Which had led to her having been asked out by more than one upperclassman, one of whom had even repeated the offer after learning her actual status.
Dean, a former professional athlete who'd played minor league baseball, had been divorced nearly six years ago, ending a marriage that had lasted four times that. He had two grown children, including a daughter older than the naked woman across from him. They seemed an odd match, but the arrangement worked.
"It was a couple of months after my divorce," Dean began, "back when I used to live down in Tribeca."
Gia nodded her head; the area was close enough to her own part of Manhattan for her to be familiar with it.
"One of my neighbors used to invite me over to watch the Mets' games on his twenty-five inch console, which, seeing as I only had a thirteen inch portable in my own apartment, I usually said yes to."
Gia again nodded her head.
"Well, one night we were having a few beers and watching the Mets go down in flames in a 14-3 massacre," Dean said, "when, out of the blue, Carl asked me what I'd been doing for companionship since the divorce, pointing out that he hadn't seen me bring anyone home since I'd moved in."
"Wasn't that a rather personal question?" Gia said. "I mean, you were just neighbors, right?"
"Yeah, but like I said, we'd had a few beers," Dean replied. "I wasn't drunk or anything like that, but probably had just enough to discuss my sex life, or rather my lack of one. I pointed out that I'd been pretty much preoccupied with putting my life back together, and getting laid hadn't been high on my list of priorities."
Dean paused and took a long, deep breath.
"Carl said he understood, and I thought that was the end of it," Dean continued. "But as I turned my attention back to the game, he said that if I ever needed a little relief, he'd be more than happy to help out -- with no reciprocation required."
"You didn't know he was gay?" Gia asked.
"Well, that wasn't the sort of topic that usually came up when we were watching a game," Dean said.
"But now that it had," Gia said, "what did you say?"
"At first, nothing," Dean replied. "I was too stunned."
"Well, eventually you must've said something, since you accepted his offer," the younger woman stated.
"Yeah, I did say yes, but not without giving it some serious thought," Dean said. "I finally decided, what the hell, a blow job's a blow job, right? And, to be honest, I guess I was a bit curious about how it might feel, seeing as he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end and all."
"And how did it feel?" Gia asked.
"Fuckin' phenomenal," Dean said as his face suddenly lit up with the memory of how it had felt. "I'd never had a blow job that good before."
The words had barely left his mouth when Dean, looking at the expression on Gia's face, realized that might've not been the best thing to say to someone who currently sucked his cock on a regular basis.
