Will And Terri Ch 02 Lube Job

This is a Will & Terri story, the 2nd installment. It can be read without reading the previous stories, in fact the stories will not even be published chronologically.

In order, the stories will be

1) Full Caribbean Moon and its sequel, Part II

2) Lube Job

3) Il Valentino Italiano

4) Expose

5) The Week Away

6) Requited Lust

7) Tuscan Days

8) The Author

As of this writing, some are completed, others are yet to be finished. How often I publish a story in this series depends upon reader interest. If you'd like to read more about this couple, let me know by leaving a comment or private messaging me. My email address is in my profile.

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Terri observed the temporary boost to their sex life seemed to be waning.

Five weeks previously, after years of discussion, fantasizing and plotting — mainly on the part of her husband, Will — she had given her body to a gentleman to do with as he would. At a Caribbean resort, she'd let a complete stranger by the name of Jonathan dance with her. That had led, two hours later, to being a naked guest in his room. Will had understood the flirting, approved of it, encouraged her.

After the two nights of passion with Jonathan came to an end, surprising results ensued. Will was more in love with her than ever, bringing her flowers, lingerie and gifts for no reason. The marital sex in the following weeks was more fervent. Terri, remembering the way Jonathan desired her and took her, had new confidence in love-making with her husband. At one point on the second night, Jonathan had taken a few minutes to massage her feet; at her urging, Will now performed that erotic service for her.

The couple had discussed the encounter relentlessly, until further memoirs were lacking in revelation. Will understood completely how Jonathan's touches had enflamed Terri, how that first kiss had been unexpected, the contrasting ambiance of the stranger's penis filling her vagina. For her part, Terri comprehended the angst that filled Will's brain as he waited in the hotel room for her to return, thought she understood just why he had very little jealousy in his soul.

As a result, the remembrance of her infidelity no longer made Will harder or incited Terri to new highs. One night as her husband kneeled below her as she was on her back, stretching one of her legs over a shoulder, the other straight behind him, she remembered how a man from her youth particularly enjoyed that position, she elicited a fantastic orgasm from her body. Will noticed of course, and as they cooled afterwards he asked, "Thinking of Jonathan?"

"No, somebody else, long ago."

"Tell me," he lovingly demanded.

She gazed at the candle burning on the end table, and commenced her recollection . . .

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Paul had been a year ahead of her ever since she'd entered the first grade. She'd played in his sandbox, he'd come to the first 'cocktail' party she'd ever hosted back in high-school. While the discs spun on the record player in her room she hoped he'd ask her to a dance, or even the prom, but instead he took up with Julie, and broke her heart.

When she went off to the small state college there he was, a finance major while she studied English and Italian. Every once in awhile they'd bump into each other on campus. One time when Julie was back in Pittsburgh for the weekend he even took her to a movie, then treated her to pie at the diner. When he returned her to the dormitory, she thought he wanted to kiss her and she began rubbing her fingers through his blond hair, but they were disrupted by one of her girlfriends passing in the hallway. When she heard he'd married Julie soon after his graduation, she wasn't surprised, but she was disappointed she hadn't even received an invitation.

In due time, Terri graduated and was hired as a language teacher in the district she'd rooted against in high-school football games. She dated men who asked her out, occasionally sleeping with them, waiting for her white knight to show up on the doorstep.

One summer's morning she was driving her retired parents to the Amtrak station for their tri-annual trip to Las Vegas when her daddy asked her, "Pumpkin, would you mind taking the car to the dealership for an oil-change and lube job while we're gone? I meant to do it yesterday, but . . ."

She was trapped in the dingy room waiting for the sedan to be finished, leafing through magazines published months before when she was joyfully surprised to be greeted by, "Terri! I haven't seen you in years!" Her heart skipped a bit of a beat to see Paul with his light hair and subtle freckles, the fantasy lover of her youth, standing before her. Before they'd been chatting five minutes they were interrupted by the mechanic delivering her keys, then a discussion telling Paul he would probably have to wait four or five hours. A soft curse came from his lips, a complaint he'd have to waste his afternoon, but then the idea occurred to him that he might catch up with his childhood playmate, and invited her to lunch, providing she drove.

Over the sandwich and salad, she told him first about her life, how she loved the intensity of her high school students, how her parents were enjoying their retirement, and, to a pointed question, no, she wasn't seeing anyone. For his part, he revealed his ascendancy as a banker, how he played softball Monday and Thursday evenings, and, in response to an arrow that Terri slung his way, told her that, yes, Julie was fine; but the way he phrased it and the dullness of his eyes let Terri know everything was not, indeed, fine.

The subject turned to reminisce, and they relived the days of tag in the backyard, catching lightning bugs in jars, and the romance of youth. "I don't know why I didn't try harder to date you back then," Paul confessed, making her feel warm and beautiful. As the meal concluded with coffee, she blurted she needed to visit her parent's house to take in the mail and water the plants. When he asked if he could accompany her - he had nothing else to do, he'd enjoy seeing the scene of so many happy memories - she saw no reason not to let him come along.

As she puttered, he wandered through the cottage, wondering at the photographs of her on the wall, remembering the parties of their childhood friends. In the dank basement playroom - he'd followed her down as she fiddled - she suddenly found herself surrounded by his arms, and she tilted her face to accept the kiss. Quickly, however, she broke it off, not because she didn't want it to continue, but because, as she proclaimed, he was after all a married man. He accepted the rebuff gracefully, told her sadly he understood, and released her.

They ascended the stairs and she returned to her chores in the kitchen. For his part, he closed the bathroom door behind him, attempting to avoid further embarrassment. As she continued with her work, she found her face flushed, her heart beating rapidly. When she heard the bathroom door swing open, she prayed he wouldn't come to her - she wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to resist again. Luckily, she didn't hear his footsteps behind her, and then she caught the strains of the rock music of her teenage years emanate from the record player in her old bedroom.

"Oh, I love the Eagles!" she called and when she went to join him, a glass of lemonade in her hand, she found him seated on the floor leafing through the record albums of her youth. She sat beside him, recalling happy moments marked by popular songs of the time, and when he reached over her to retrieve a record, they were both electrified with desire. The passion came upon them rapidly, in less than five minutes they were naked and he was inside her as she knelt on her childhood bed. He was relentless in his ardor, placing her in a multitude of positions, making her pant and scream, until at last he released inside of her, joyfully mingling their juices.

Further kisses followed, and without covering their nudity they played the rock and roll of their youths.

In time to return to the auto dealership, they dressed and she made the bed and disposed of the sopping Kleenex so her mother would never know what had transpired in that room, the first time Terri had ever made love in her parent's house. When she dropped Paul at the shop, he didn't try to kiss her - someone might view them - but he did ask if she would see him again. She wondered if it would be wise, but he ignored her protests and promised he'd call her.

And, surprisingly, he did call, and one evening when he told Julie he was working late he brought two servings of spaghetti and a bottle of wine to her bachelorette pad, and they made uninhibited love until he told her he needed to go home, lest his wife suspect.

For twenty-three weeks they shared their bodies and a bit of their minds. When she told her best friend about the affair, she also revealed her fears he would never leave his wife, that the romance was doomed to failure. Even though she and Paul both spoke of love during the furtive moments together, one night after one last fantastic bout of fervor he tearfully confessed Julie was pregnant, that he was unhappy but he needed to end the relationship. He cried, but Terri didn't. Not then. But she weeped for weeks afterward.

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As the flicker of the candle illuminated his wife's beautiful face, Will asked, "And you never saw him again?"

"No. He called a couple of times, trying to get together, but I wouldn't let him come back."

"Did you want him to?"

"Of course I did," Terri explained. "Until I met you, it was the best sex of my life. But I knew that with his wife, it was just temporary for him, so I had to let him go."

"I'm glad you did," Will said. "Otherwise, you might not have gone out with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Terri murmured, and before too long soft breaths indicated she was sleeping.

Weeks later, Terri was taking a late night bath - something she often did when she was desirous of her man - when Will entered the bathroom. "Want your back scrubbed?" he offered.

"Sure," she accepted.

After the shoulders were washed, Will moved to her front, playing with the globes of her bosom, and then his hand dropped down between her legs and his finger caught at her clitoris. She laid back in the warm water and let Will have his way with her. As she was well on the way to her first orgasm of the evening, Will suggested, "Pretend it's not me, that it's some other man."

Without speaking, Terri entered the playland they often visited. Again she heard Will's voice, "Describe the man you're with."

She thought for a moment. "He's taller than you, blond. He has the most incredible long fingers."

"Is it Paul?"

"Do you want it to be Paul?" she asked, and sensing his nod, she agreed, "Yes, it's Paul."

For the next hour they played the game, and 'Paul' had her once again, this time in the boudoir of the Victorian home she shared with her husband. As Terri confessed how she'd love to make love to her former paramour again, her husband acted the part of her worshiper.

Afterwards they cuddled, and Will asked, as he always did, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Of course I am. You were fantastic tonight."

"So were you," he agreed. "You liked pretending you were with Paul, didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, a little shyly. "After I told you about him the other day, I got to thinking about him again."

"I've been thinking, too."

"Yessss?" Terri hissed. Sometimes, it was a good idea when Will was thinking; other times it wasn't.

"Would you like to really to be with Paul again?"

"I don't know," she cautiously avoided. "Maybe."

"Why not?" Will gently demanded.

"Well," Terri began, "It was so long ago. Maybe he's changed. Probably, he wouldn't want me - I'm not as pretty as I was then. And besides, he's probably still married."

"You're married, now, too," Will reminded her. "As for the rest, I'm sure he'd still be attracted to you. You're still very, very sexy, you know. And you'll never know whether you'd still want him until you meet him."

Terri considered it for a moment. "I wouldn't even know how to find him, anyway."

"I've already figured that one out. I've got his home phone number for you; he still lives in Penn Hills, hasn't moved in all these years. And he's still at the same bank."

"Really?" Terri thought about it for a few moments. "You mean, you'd like me to make love to him again? Like I did with Jonathan?"

"If you want to. Why don't you call him up one of these days, invite him to drinks. If it works, fine. If not . . ."

"Let me think about it," Terri balked. And again she fell asleep in the arms of her real lover, her husband.

For three months she waffled about calling the telephone number Will had given her. She just wasn't sure if this was really a good idea. Will was proposing she take another lover. This had been a part of their fantasy life for years, and yes, she'd given into the idea once, on a Caribbean island steeped in romanticism and alcohol. It had worked out well, but now she was home, in the reality of life. It could easily grow into an affair. When she brought this to Will, he simply pooh-poohed it, "So what if it does? We'll still love each other, we won't divorce over it or anything. Don't you believe someone could love more than one person?"

Even when she embraced the idea of giving into Will's persistent entreaties to 'just give him a call; see what happens,' the first four times she tried to dial his work number her hand dropped the receiver before she even heard the ring.

The fifth time, she hung in there until she heard the voice of the answering machine say, "Hello, this is Paul Herbert of First Bank . . ." but she declined to leave a message. The next evening, after her classroom had been deserted by the students and most of the other teachers had gone home, she steeled herself for the inevitable, and tried again. And once more, she almost hung up, but the call was answered quickly, and she heard his voice, "Hi, Paul here."

For seconds she knew not what to say, and again she heard his voice, "Hello?"

"Oh, hello. Paul? This is Terri Neblett." There was no response; this was turning bad. "I mean, Terri Selvaggio, from high school. Do you remember me?" What an idiot she was! How could he have known her married name?

But the response was warm, overwhelming. "Terri! Boy, it's great to hear your voice. It's been what, twenty-five years?"

"Twenty-eight, actually." If only he knew how one night she'd sat down and nervously calculated the time, almost to the minutes and seconds. "How are you?"

"Just great. And you?"

"Fine, just fine." The conversation dragged through a little chit-chat, he unsure in the purpose of the call, she timid to make her request.

"So, Terri, what can I do for you?" She thought perhaps he thought she needed a loan, or wanted to open an account.

She took a deep breath, and decided to go for it. "I've been thinking about you lately, that's all. I was wondering if you'd like to get together for a drink sometime?"

"You know, that would be so great," he enthusiastically responded. "I've never quite forgotten about you, you know." The deal was struck, and they decided upon the details of the rendevouz, a dinner at the restaurant everyone had gone to on their prom night.

On the Wednesday of the date Terri skipped out of her school earlier than normal, heading for home and a shower. She had discussed the evening with Will, he'd suggested she wear a blouse that displayed copious cleavage, she instead opted for a more modest dress. She drove to the town of her high school, to the restaurant where the pre-prom dinner had been so many years ago.

Her first glance at Paul didn't give her the romantic high she was hoping for. A pound for each of the twenty-eight years had been added to the frame - he wasn't exactly fat, but you wouldn't use the word svelte, either. On the other hand, his suit seemed well tailored, the ivory shirt and striped tie were clean-cut, he still had a beautiful head of hair, even if the blond had morphed into a hard grey. "Oh, you haven't changed a bit," Paul lied as he rose to greet her.

"And you're still handsome," she stretched. They sat across from each other in a booth, appetizers and drinks were ordered, they began to catch up. "Oh, two kids? Yeah, me too. Here, let me show you a picture." . . . "Were you at the 25th reunion? I couldn't make it." . . . "Barbara? Oh, I heard she headed off to California, haven't heard from her in years."

Then, Paul admitted, "Julie left me, oh, must be six years now. When Jason was a senior in high school. Probably for the best, we'd both had enough of each other. She invited me to her wedding a couple years back, I sent a card with a check. You?"

She waved her wedding ring. "Married a really sweet man, Will, we're very happy." The conversation continued, quite easily, through another round.

"Do you remember the time I met you at the car repair shop?" Paul asked.

"Of course. And the rest of the afternoon. I had a wonderful time, Paul, for the next few months. For a long time, I was a little heartbroken. We were young, of course, and I didn't really understand our relationship; I thought maybe you'd leave Julie."

"I know. Believe me, I thought about it. I made a mistake, I should have. We've always seemed like soul-mates, haven't we?"

"Back then, yes."

Paul paid the tab, wouldn't think of splitting it, and they left the restaurant. The late-summer evening was warm, the sun was just a few degrees from drooping behind the hills, Terri accepted the invitation to walk a few blocks to the park by the river. As they sat on a bench overlooking the boats gayly motoring past them, Paul began his sales pitch, the one Terri had been hoping for. "You remember, when we had our affair? Perhaps it's wrong of me to say this, but how we made love together was the best of my life."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"No, it seemed we fit together so well. Julie and I were never like that."

"I remember it as a special time, too." She felt his arm around her shoulder, wondered if she should push it away but decided not to. "Tell me, do you have any girlfriends now?"

"One woman, we get together every now and then. I wouldn't call it a relationship."

"Would she?"

"Not really. We've talked about taking it to the next level, but she's a widow, only three years, and her son still lives with her. We go to a movie or a play every once in awhile, and after that . . ." Terri didn't have to imagine very hard what 'after that' meant. "She's told me if I find anybody else, it wouldn't be a problem . . . I'd like to see you again."

At that, Paul's hand, the one that wasn't behind her back, lightly patted her knee. Surprisingly, Terri felt her reaction cover her body. If they weren't in a public place, it's possible she would have turned to him, they might have kissed. Terri would have liked that. And, had the kiss been as engaging as she remembered from so long ago, had Paul suggested a trip to a hotel or his home, she thought she might accept. But the situation never arose, for it was a public place and she did remember she was a happily married woman.

To his question about getting together once more, she gave a diffident reply. "I don't know, Paul. I'm enjoying tonight, I'm glad we got together. I'd like you to be my friend." In that statement was she being oblique, Paul wondered. Was she suggesting a resumption of an affair was possible? He wanted her, certainly, and he didn't much care she was wed to another man.

"We can be friends, Terri. Whatever you want. Tell you what, why don't you come over to my house next week. I'll cook you dinner. Remember the stew my mother used to make, the one based on her grandmother's french recipe? I have it, I'm pretty good at it. Why don't you come over next week, let me make it for you."