By the time I had washed Chad’s cum out of my hair, he was long gone, but Paula and Amy were just returning from their shopping trip. Amy raced in, threw a couple of bags on her bed and was out the door, presumably to meet up with Chad. I wondered if, or when he would tell Amy about our little encounter. I was fairly confident that if he did brag about the time ‘Amy’s aunt had sucked him off’ that my denying it would be enough to render his claim a wild teenage fantasy.
Garrett, on the other hand, was another story. Would he tell Amy or Paula? And even if he didn’t, what must he think of me – a thirty-something, married, mother of two, turned cum-slut. I felt a nervous lump in the pit of my stomach as I anticipated what he would say to me when he got home from work and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say to him.
Paula quickly changed into her swimsuit while I mixed a pitcher of margueritas and we retired to our lounge chairs in the back yard. We spent the afternoon soaking up the sun, sipping our drinks and getting pleasantly buzzed. Our conversation, as it often does, eventually drifted to the subject of sex and at one point Paula made a comment about Chad’s beautiful tan and her desire to see his tight, white little butt.
I briefly wondered if she already knew about Chad’s and my escapade – perhaps Garrett had phoned her on her cell before she came home. Maybe Paula was trying to get me to confess to her.
Even though I was starting to feel a little drunk, I resisted the urge to confess my indiscretion to my older sister and as the conversation wandered away from the subject, I felt pretty secure that Garrett was my only worry.
We heard his car pull up shortly after five. Paula put her t-shirt and shorts on, over her swimsuit, and went in the house to greet him and start supper. I continued to lay out, enjoying the late afternoon sun but that nervous lump in my stomach returned.
A few minutes later Garrett came out with a fresh pitcher of margueritas and he had changed into shorts and a t-shirt. From the look of him, I presumed that he didn’t spend a whole lot of time outdoors. His arms were tanned somewhat, but his hairy legs were almost a brilliant white. Combined with his long, khaki shorts, slightly too-tight t-shirt and dark, wire-rimmed glasses he looked kind of nerdy.
When he and Paula were married he had been very skinny – too skinny in my opinion. Living the good life with a cook as spectacular as my sister, he had added a few pounds and actually looked pretty hot for a few years. Now, just over forty Garrett had developed a bit of a paunch but he still wasn’t what I would call overweight.
He settled into the lounger that Paula had vacated, took a long sip of his drink and looked right at me and said, “So how was your day?”
For a few seconds I considered the possibility that maybe he hadn’t seen anything after all, but then he smirked and said, “I see you found your top.”
“Garrett,” I said, glancing furtively at the house, “we need to talk about this morning, it’s not what you think.”
“No?”
“Well, maybe it is what you think,” I smiled, shyly, “but I still feel like I need to explain.”
“I’m listening,” he said, studying the ice in his glass.
“You haven’t told Paula have you? Or Amy?”
“Not yet,” he said.
“Please don’t,” I pleaded. “It was a mistake, a moment of weakness, temporary insanity – I don’t know what, but please can we keep this our little secret?”
“Are you going to tell Ben?” Garrett asked.
“Ohmigod, Ben! I hadn’t even considered him finding out.” I said. “Please, please Garrett, you can’t tell him of all people. You can’t tell anyone!”
“I can probably be persuaded,” he said.
I was in a panic. My heart was racing and in spite of the warm summer sun, I suddenly felt chilled. I needed to calm down; I needed to regain my composure – to get control of the situation, to . . .
“What exactly do you mean, you can be persuaded?” I said.
Garrett smiled and turned to look at me. He squinted against the sun and it gave him a slightly sinister look.
“Well,” he said, “perhaps if you had something on me, something I wanted you to keep secret, then we would be at an impasse, so to speak.”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, cautiously.
“Oh I don’t know, exactly,” he said.
“I’m guessing you do,” I said.
“No, not really. I’m open to suggestion. I mean, Chad certainly seemed to be enjoying the, shall we say, ‘attention’ you were giving him,” Garrett said, “some of that appeals to me.”
“So you’re saying that if I give you - my sisters husband - a handjob, you’ll keep quiet about me and Chad?”
“Sure, I mean neither one of us will want Paula to find about the handjob, and by the way I saw more than just your hands getting involved. But yeah, I think that would be enough to keep me quiet,” he said.
“I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this,” I said, “but OK. As long as we both agree, it will be one time and neither one of us will ever say anything about it again. Not to Paula, not to Ben or Amy or anyone! We won’t even mention it to each other, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“So when?” I asked.
“You’re going home tomorrow, right? So I guess it’s going to have to be tonight.” Garrett said.
“But when exactly,” I said, “and where.”
