Chris Jenkins was at the counter of his Lawrence, Kansas convenience store around 12:30AM. He was pulling a double shift to make up for the time he took off during his mother's recent illness. It was a day to remember, spent in all consuming ecstacy with Anjie Pearson, who he'd just met three days before. The figures on the page before him struggled to hold his attention, and the bustling of his co-worker, a young man from the University, was on the edge of his perception.
His radio was playing "Take It Easy" by the Eagles, and Chris could relate. Much to his shame, he had fallen hard for his old German teacher, Anna Pearson, gone much farther with her than he was comfortable with, and now he was involved with her granddaughter. In a couple weeks, Anna would be back, and Chris was not sure if he could handle the situation.
Jessica Smith strode into the store, followed by a couple of squirrely looking guys with bags of equipment. She was wearing a pink tube top and cutoffs above her sandals; her body was a gift from God; her face supposedly a gift from her father's bulldog; her attitude a gift from the depths of the Pit. She came to the counter and rested on her elbows, smiling sweetly. "Hey, faggot boy, how's it hanging?"
"Hi, Jessica. Miss you horribly–not!"
"Got a deal for you."
"Not interested."
"Shut up and listen. My boys want to do a photo series here, where I became famous."
"Excuse me?"
"You know, where we foiled the robbery a few weeks ago?"
Chris shook his head. "I don't understand. You mean that security tape where you paraded naked in front of that drunk would-be robber and freaked him out so much he got arrested?"
"Yeah."
"What do you mean 'photo series'?"
She put her hands on her hips and snorted. "I started a new website: 'Jessica Justice', and I go around doing scenes where I fight crime."
"Oh. It's a pay site?"
"Yeah, but it's got really great stuff in it."
"What?"
"Me, naked. A couple of guys sent me a lot of money to do a site where I could fight crime and show off my excellent body."
'I got a great idea for your shoot here."
"Really?"
"Yeah, put a bag over your head."
Jessica stuck out her tongue at him. "Anyway, the boys here will give you $50 if you'll let us take a few shots here."
"No deal."
"All right, $200."
"Done. But what about my co-worker?"
"Who?"
"The guy who does your old job."
"$50?"
"The same as me."
"The same as you? You packing his fudge?"
"No."
"All right. But he's the lookout; we don't want anybody seeing my bod without paying for it."
"Done."
He called his co-worker, Frank, over and told him what the deal was. He accepted the assignment without hesitation, and went outside to divert traffic from the store. Jessica went over by the hot dog rotisserie to plan her poses while Chris went back to his inventory.
Chris looked up from time to time during the hour to see what they were doing. Jessica was showing strategic parts of her anatomy in various places of the store, while one guy held the light and the other shot a flash drive full of pictures. They wanted pictures of Chris playing the robber while a naked Jessica disarmed him: for another $150 he agreed to put a bag over his face and hold an extremely fake gun pointed in her direction.
They were taking pictures back toward the cooler, when he noticed Jessica was naked inside, pressed almost full body against the glass and she left an imprint as she pulled away. "Hey, be sure and clean that up before you go," he ordered.
He got home around dawn, and was awakened at 8:00AM. Going upstairs, he found his brothers Virgil and Fred, demolishing the old plaster from the living room walls. Seeing them at work, he waved and went downstairs, showering and dressing in sweats before going to Anna's house.
Anjie met him at the door with a warm, muzzy smile wearing a white silk blouse, jeans and fuzzy house slippers. She gave him a long kiss and asked: "What brings you over here at this time of day, punkin?"
"Hey, babe," Chris started. "My brothers are tearing up the house. Could I grab a nap here before I have to go to work later?"
"Sure, sweetheart," she replied. "You can take the master bedroom. I've got a teleconference in five minutes."
"Sweet." Chris found the bed unmade, and crawled in to her residual warmth, falling asleep almost immediately. His dreams were the same as when he discovered his lust for Frau Pearson: he was writing German declensions in chalk on a blackboard while Anna sat topless, saying "
Was has du jetzt gelernt
" over and over again.
At 1:00, he was awakened by a soft hand stroking his stomach and a warm body pressed against him. A tongue nuzzled his ear. He rolled over to be suffocated by a hungry mouth, and reached out to find her soft puppy fat eager for his touch. The sweats disappeared; two bodies began a dialogue in the soft glow of the early afternoon on an old fashioned four poster bed surrounded by antique furniture and lace curtains.
They turned, and as he savored the salty sweetness of her dark flecked valley, soft lips and a velvet tongue sought for his solid passion. His fingers clenched her bottom hard and her nails dug into his hips. Before they reached the summit of their longing, he withdrew, arranged her on her back, and mounted her, starting thrusting slowly, while she wrapped her legs around his midsection. The grandfather clock downstairs maintained its sentinel measure of time, but it was unheard as two lovers lost themselves in one another.
Streaked with sweat, they lay in each other's arms, resting after their dialogue, exhausted by their journey through clouds and rain. "Chris, what's your work schedule like the next couple of days?"
"I've got to do another double shift tonight, then single shifts the next three days."
She frowned . "I've got to go back to New York tonight. Need to spend a couple days in the office." Her finger started tracing his arm and she looked down. "Was hoping you could come with me."
He kissed her. "I'd like to, but I can't. Gotta work for a living, babe. Need to do some yard work from your Grandmother. Keep an eye on Virgil and Freddie, make sure they don't kill themselves tearing apart the house."
Her eyes bore on his. "You're a writer now, Chris. You need to think about life beyond the convenience store and yardwork. You need to think of a new place to live, space to write your stories, space to write books. Space for people who care about you."
He started to speak, but she put a single finger on his lips. "You say your house is being torn up by your brothers. It'll take them a while to finish what they're doing, won't it? It'll be noisy and dirty and nasty, won't it?" He nodded. "Bring your clothes and your laptop over here for a few days. Take the stories you put on the Internet and rewrite them, fill them out a bit and make the characters people we'd like to know. Or elves or dwarves or whatever. I'll draw up another contract in New York and you'll be able to quit the store and wind down your lawn business." He frowned and thought; she kissed his forehead. "Chris, I'm not asking you to make the great leap now. Just try out a new lifestyle for a few days and see how you like it. You can take the back guest room: it's away from the street and it's the quietest room in the house."
"What–what–what will your grandmother say?"
"Mutti won't mind; I asked her about it this morning." Chris' jaw dropped. "So it's settled. Get your stuff together and move in–for a few days."
She traced the line of his jaw with her index finger while he thought about it, and eventually he nodded in agreement. "Good," she said, sitting up quickly enough to make her breasts wobble. Reaching her hand over, she stroked him and smiled. Her fuzzy black hair was tousled and a few strands escaped the pony tail she wore that day. "We have time to celebrate before we have to go." As his manhood reasserted itself, she bent down to kiss it again, her soft tongue questing every curve until it was fully restored, then she sat on it, welcoming into her velvet vise and rocking gently on him.
During a slow part of his shift, he put his laptop on the counter and checked his e-mail for the first time that day. He'd barely had time to shower, gather a few things, and make it on time for work. His co-worker Frieda gave his a quizzical look and a smile, shaking her head, but said nothing. There was a message from Germany:
Chris,
We've had such a good time in the Schwartzwald! It's been a long time, but I think I'm
finally back in shape; Magda has been wearing me out. Yesterday we took a lovely boat trip on the Rhine. Tomorrow we're making a long trip to spend a week with my father's relatives near Dresden, and visit some old villages just over the border in Poland where our ancestors lived.
I'm glad you're having such a good time with Angela. It takes a great burden off my
mind. Please stay at my house while your brothers remodel; you need some quiet space. Have as much fun as possible, and I'll treat you both to something nice when I get back.
Love, Anna
There were pictures attached, and a second e-mail with more. Most of them were forest shots of stately trees and a few of a boat trip on the Rhine. The last ones were of Anna naked: several where she was sitting in the middle of a small waterfall, and in the last one she was peeking from behind a small tree, her breasts resting on a pair of strategic branches, a silly smile on her face. Chris shook his head as he closed the window; he was seeing a side of her he'd never seen before. I didn't fit with the storm trooper of the old days.