I dozed, and startled awake when the door lock rattled. I came instantly alert when I heard a male voice accompanying RoseAnn's. He urged her to have some coffee, and offered to make it for her. Her voice slurred as she protested that it was late and she needed sleep.
My head was still fuzzy when I walked out into the living room. Too late, I realized I was wearing only crumpled slacks. RoseAnn looked at me, surprised. A man as tall as her, craggy, tanned, white around the temples, stood with her.
"Oh, you're home already, Barry." She seemed relieved. "Did you have a good time?" Her voice betrayed that she'd had a little too much of the merlot she loved.
"I've been home a couple of hours. The party wasn't very interesting. In fact, it was awkward." I was uncomfortable lying, even by omission.
She kicked off her shoes, and half stumbled. Both of us instinctively reached to steady her, but she regained balance without help. "This is my boss. Keith, meet Barry. Barry, meet Keith." Without her shoes, she was shorter than her boss. He must have been at least six-three.
We briefly shook hands, but there were no smiles, and the hostility was palpable on both sides. "Shall I make coffee?" I asked, letting my manners win out over my urge to push 'Keith' out the door.
She hiccupped. "No. I want to sleep through the hangover I'm going to have in the morning." She giggled.
"She looks like someone put something in her wine," I said.
"Are those yours?" said Keith, gesturing at the stack of textbooks on the table. "Are you a student?"
"For about two days, so far," I said. "I just got here from Illinois."
"You look too old to be a freshman."
"I hear that a lot."
"Did RoseAnn rent a room to you?" He'd worked me into a corner where I'd have to reveal our relationship. After all, I'd walked out of a bedroom without shirt or shoes, which more or less gave the game away.
I made a poorly calculated attempt at evasion. "It's complicated," I said.
He nodded seriously, having got his answer. "It's late. I think I'd better go."
RoseAnn had gone to the refrigerator and taken out a bottle of juice. "Did you want some juice, Keith? Or maybe some more wine?" She knocked the plastic bottle on its side on the counter. "Oops," she said, making a mock-embarrassed face.
He was nearly to the door. "It's okay. You need some sleep." And then he was gone.
A few seconds after the door closed, she said, "Jesus Christ, I thought he'd never leave me alone."
"That's the fastest sobering-up I've ever seen."
"The son of a bitch came without his wife, and wouldn't keep his hands off me. But I made sure that every time he looked at me, I was refilling my wine glass. I had to act drunk for three hours. When he really started to push hard, I told him I was going to be sick. Nothing kills the urge for sex like the threat of being vomited on."
"Well, I went to a party where everyone stood around waiting to be introduced to each other. But I met a Nobel Prize winner and listened to him talk about his work."
"Really? And what did he say?"
"I have no idea," I said, chuckling. "He could have been speaking Chinese, for all I could understand."
She walked to the refrigerator, and then seemed to shake herself. She turned and sat on the sofa. "I almost forgot I have a slave to do things for me. Barry, mix a strawberry smoothie for me. Make it nice and thick."
I stood there puzzled for a moment, and then realized she was giving me an order. "Yes, RoseAnn," I said. My cock began to swell as I went to the refrigerator and took out the container of vanilla yogurt and a package of frozen strawberries.
"It didn't take long for you to forget," she said. I looked at her for a moment, puzzled, as she looked me up and down. Finally, I understood and shed my slacks and underwear immediately. After I blended the strawberries, yogurt, crushed ice, and sweetener together and poured it into a glass, I got down on my knees and handed it to her. I was astonished at how natural it felt, but I'd dreamed all summer of kneeling naked at RoseAnn's feet as her slave and servant. While she sipped at the smoothie, I massaged her feet. She closed her eyes and purred like a cat.
She let me rub her feet for a few minutes more, and said, "Get a towel and come back here."
When I returned, she'd already shed her dress and sat on the sofa in bra, slip, and panties. She spread the towel on her lap and gripped my balls to pull me toward her. She took my cock by the base and dipped it in the ice-cold smoothie. She held it there until it shrank and hurt from the cold, then she licked at it until it swelled again. Pink yogurt and strawberry bits ran down her chin and dripped onto the towel. She took my organ deep into her mouth and sucked the remainder of the liquid from it. "Mm-m. It tastes so much better this way," she breathed. She continued dipping and sucking, while my cock shrank and swelled. I stood before her, hips squirming and legs trembling, but the intermittent cold shock avoided any danger of an unwelcome climax.
She kept at it a long while, while I became more helplessly aroused and frustrated. At last, there was too little of the drink left to dip more than the head of my cock. She tipped her head back and drank the rest down.
