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  • A Stranger to Guide Us Ch. 03

A Stranger to Guide Us Ch. 03

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story owes a great debt to "Six Times a Day" and its author, spacer_x, along with many others.

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The next morning passed unremarkably. Allie seemed satisfied with Josh's story of a wild night out with some new friends from college. Drinking -- but no driving, of course. She'd have killed him for that, he knew. But, god, he wondered, what would she say if she knew what really happened.

Fresh off the loss of his virginity, he had a bounce in his step all weekend. Allie commented on it a number of times, but he said it was nothing more than a post-birthday high. "Don't worry, mom," he said. "Monday's gloom will be here for you know it. We'll just have to brave this cheeriness until it passes."

She smiled at him and dropped it. He had a little money left over from the other night and insisted on taking Allie to lunch on Saturday. She knew he didn't have much, so she insisted on a local pizza joint and kidded about his luck in finding such a cheap date.

The rest of the weekend, Josh shuffled around the house waiting for a line of contact from Lana. Before he'd left the Kit Kat Club she'd jotted down his email and cell number. But she'd never said when she might call. By Sunday night he was feeling a little apprehensive about the silence, but as Monday, Tuesday, then Wednesday came and went, he was practically crawling up the wall. Had she forgotten, he asked himself for the millionth time. Had she been lying to him? The whole thing had felt like a dream -- the hazy bar, the dim lighting, the beautiful women and complex codes of behavior. He actually began to wonder if he'd imagined the whole thing.

It was close to midnight on Wednesday night when his phone set off a little ping sound. He was lying in bed reading a beat-up, old novel and was nearly asleep. He shot up and grabbed his phone to find a text message:

Dinner tomorrow at The Ship House Restaurant. 7:30. Dress cute. --L

His heart was pounding a little. Thank god, he thought, at least she's real. He stood up and went to the closet and stared into it for a solid minute, completely befuddled.

"Dress... cute?" This could be a long night.

--------------------------------

Josh stepped into the restaurant precisely at 7:30, though only because he'd gotten to the parking lot over forty five minutes beforehand, where he'd sat and waited, drumming his fingers and straightening his tie every few moments.

As soon as he entered he spotted Lana, sitting at the bar. One long, smooth leg crossed the other, both on display in her short black skirt. She was flanked on both sides by groups of middle-aged men who seemed to be vying for her attention, or alternately, peeking down at her deep cleavage. One of them was telling a boisterous story, his arms flailing, while two others were trying to cut in with their stories of their own. Josh suddenly felt a sinking in his stomach and almost started to turn back towards the door when Lana's voice rang out.

"Josh! There you are." She stood up, smoothed her skirt, and sauntered across the bar towards him. The men sighed and protested, one even shouting, "Who's the kid?" but she paid them no mind.

"Hello," she said in her huskiest voice, "don't you look nice. Right on time, too. I like it." She slid an arm through his and, a moment later, the maître d' led them to a back table.

"Who were they?" Josh asked, having a hard time keeping the jealousy out of his voice.

"Idiot man children," she said. "Exactly what they looked like."

"Oh," he muttered, fiddling with his water glass.

"No," Lana said sharply. "I won't have it. Josh, look at them. Go on, look." He turned back to the bar. "Tell me what you see."

There were four of them in all, watching a hockey game on TV. They were definitely split into two pairs, with a wide berth between all of them. Two were wearing the home team's hats, while one of the others had a t-shirt with the other team's logo. Josh barely followed sports so he didn't know how to read the situation exactly. "I don't know. Guys, I guess."

"You guessed right. What else do you see?"

He squinted, but wasn't sure what exactly to look for.

"What about their behavior? Are they courteous?" Just as she said it, the two men in the home team hats erupted in cheers, then pointed ugly, defiant fingers at the other two, laughing raucously.

"No," he admitted, "not really."

"Are they well-dressed?"

"No, definitely not."

"No, not half so well as you. And let me tell you what else I see. They're drinking cheap beer because they care more about getting drunk than enjoying the drink itself. They're sitting farther apart than necessary in order to emphasize their heterosexuality, but it just makes them look insecure. One of them pulled off his wedding ring while talking to me, thinking I wouldn't notice, which tells me he's untrustworthy. His friend was single but hadn't showered or shaved today. They'll be lucky if they can get the bartender to pour them a drink. They never had a chance with me."

The last words were whispered in his ear and Josh whipped around to find that Lana had pulled up close to him.

"Josh, I'm her with you. You're my date." She slid a hand up his thigh. "Learn to treat a woman right and she's putty in your hands."

Lana slid back to her seat and began perusing the menu, a little smile on her face. Josh felt his shoulders drop and his breathing come easy again.

The dinner went smoothly after that. More than smoothly, in fact. Josh was surprised to find that conversation came easy. They laughed a lot and shared food from each other's plates. Lana regaled him with tales of her life. She didn't shy away from the bawdy stories, but left enough to the imagination that she came off as adventurous and sophisticated rather than cheap and tawdry. She seemed genuinely interesting in hearing about Josh's upbringing, asking lots of questions about his family and friends, school and his new job.

As desert came around, Lana continued the line of inquiry about his family. "What does your mother -- Allie, right?¬.." Josh nodded. "What does Allie for a living?"

"She's an assistant for this architect. It's alright, I think. She never really complains about her job."

"What firm is she at," she asked. "One of my husbands was an architect."

"Weber and Pierce. The first guy, Weber, that's her boss."

"Architects can be intense. Very focused, Very demanding. She must be tired when she comes home."

"Yeah, she is."

"Do you ever do something nice for her, like cook dinner? Give her a foot massage?"

Josh blushed. "No, no nothing like that. I suppose I should cook dinner once in a while. But I can't give her a -- you know -- a massage."

"Why not?" Lana asked. "You're the man of the house, but she's pulling in all the dough. She raised you, put a roof over your head. The least you could do is make her feel special. Besides a foot massage doesn't have to be erotic. I mean, it can be." Her eyes twinkled, "but it doesn't have to be. Think about it."

"I'll think about." He blushed more deeply and took a long gulp of water.

She paused to eat a bit more desert, then looked up at him. "You didn't tell me that I looked nice tonight."

"Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. But you do. Really. You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she said demurely. "You should always compliment your date at the beginning of the evening. She probably spent a lot of time trying to look nice for you."

He felt a sinking humiliation in his chest. Lana was right, of course, and here he'd just gotten jealous.

"You can make it up to me now. Tell me," she said, "which part of my outfit you like the best."

Josh looked her up and down. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back on the top and the sides, then spilled out in a wash of curls down her back. The back of the dress was open at the top and pulled in tight by her ribs. The effect was magnificent on her breasts because it pulled them in tight, then up. He could have rested a drink on her chest it stood out so proudly, though the drink might be lost forever in the canyon of her cleavage.

He didn't want to sound like a creep, though, so his eyes darted around to something less obvious.

"Your earrings," he blurted out.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, "they're really great. "They work perfectly on you."

She leaned forward. "That's very gentlemanly of you, but I'm looking for something different right now. I want to you answer again."

Josh's eyes scanned her body again, looking for something that was passably polite. It was hard to concentrate because when she leaned forward her tits rested on the edge of the table, which pushed her cleavage up even higher. Good lord, he thought, that's a lot of tit. He could practically hear the blood rushing in his head.

"Um..."

"Josh," she said, and slowly ran a couple of fingers along the edge her boobs, "you've got to learn what a woman is trying to tell you when she's not using her words." Her fingers ran back and forth across the cleavage.

A revelation hit him and Josh suddenly blurted out "your breasts!" It was a stroke of bad timing however, that the waiter had just arrived to clear their plates. The waiters eyes went wide and he seemed as inexorably drawn to Lana's chest as Josh himself was. Lana didn't bat an eye, though. Without a flicker of embarrassment, she asked him to bring the check in two minutes time. She'd never stopped running her fingers along her cleavage.

When the waiter left, she said "So, my breasts. Why my breasts?"

Josh gulped. "They're... they're just... just... amazing."

"And what do you want to do to my amazing breasts?" she asked huskily.

A million thoughts ran through Josh's head. "I want to touch them... grab them." He checked nervously for a reaction. She smiled warmly, emboldening him to continue. "I want to suck on them."

"Where do you want to suck on them, Josh. Here, right here in the restaurant."

He laughed at the idea. It was absurd and unthinkable, but true. "Yes, right here in the restaurant. I want to crawl under the table and into your lap and just suck on them."

"On my tits?" she said, even breathier than before.

"Yeah, your tits. Your big beautiful tits." He felt his cock ballooning his pants and a warm flush through his chest.

He noticed that Lana was breathing shallower than normal. Her pupils were wider. Her legs were pressed closely together and he could just make up that she was rubbing them together.

"Do you want to fuck them, my big, beautiful tits? Do you want to stick your cock between them?"

He leaned forward to come closer to her. They looked like co-conspirators sharing secrets across a table. He knew this game now. He knew exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Oh yes," he said. "I want to pull out my cock right here and now. I want to pull your dress down, just enough to let out those fat tits. Then I want to push you back on the table and climb on top of you."

He leaned in so close he was practically whispering in her ear.

"Then I'm going to shove my cock between them and pound away. You're going to spit and I'm going to spit and it's going to mix together on your fat tits. I want you to squeeze them tight so they feel like a pussy and I'm going to fuck them."

"How hard are you going to fuck them?" She was practically hyperventilating.

"So fucking hard. I'm gonna fuck them so hard and fast. I'll even get the waiter to come and squeeze them together for me so I can have my hands free to pull on your nipples while I fuck you."

Lana laughed and moaned at the same time. It was a delicious, intoxicating sound. "Wait here a minute," she said. Then, suddenly, she got up and walked towards the bathroom.

Josh was dumbfounded. Had he done something wrong? He looked around. Clearly, other patrons had witnessed the oddly paired couple in the corner getting hot and bothered. The waiter reappeared, cleared his throat loudly, and announced "Your check, sir." He then spun on his heel and left.

Josh wanted to sink under the table. But before he had a chance to do anything rash, Lana reappeared, walking -- sashaying might have been more accurate -- across the dining room. Her hips swayed back and forth like a metronome.

She slid into the seat and extended an open hand across the table. It seemed to him a very "couple-ly" thing to do, so he joined his hand with hers. Apparently she had something else in mind though, because she grabbed his hand and flipped it face-up, then whipped something purple out of her purse and into his palm. He had to stare at it for a moment before he realized what he was holding. His hand closed in an instant around her panties so no one else would see, but as he squeezed it he could feel a slick wetness wash over his skin. They were completely soaked. A moment later, the aroma hit his nose. He recognized it from the night they'd spent together the previous Friday.

He looked up at her in wonder. Lana had a sultry, wanton look on her face. "Thanks. You know just what a girl likes to hear."

He smiled dumbly.

"You wanna get out of here?" she asked.

He nodded, squeezing the panties in his hand, a spacy sort of look in his face.

She left some money on the table, took his hand, and led him across the room. The other patrons turned to watch her go, the men generally in arousal and the women generally in disgust. None of it seemed to phase Lana, though.

Out in the parking lot, she seemed to be leading him toward a large, black SUV. "My car's over there," Josh said, pointing towards the other side of the lot.

"I know," she smiled. "I saw you sitting out there for forty five minutes before you came in."

"Oh, that..." stammered Josh.

She pulled on his necktie and led him to lean against the black SUV.

"I appreciate it. You wanted to be on time. That's very..."

She drew close to him.

"Very..."

Closer.

"Nice of you."

She kissed him deeply, her tongue plunging into his mouth and swirling around his. He felt her full, soft tits crush into his chest and his cock stiffened again. She must feel it, he thought. He was hoping that she might invite him back to her room at the Kit Kat Club for another steamy night.

"Mmm," she moaned. "You're hard, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm," he breathed.

"Good," she said, and without another word began undoing his belt.

"What the hell are you doing!" Josh exclaimed.

"Is there a problem?" She had a wicked smile that was hard to resist, and he felt himself get even harder.

"But we're in a goddamn parking lot! There are people in the restaurant right now! They could look out the window! I mean," he sputtered, " I mean, they couldn't stop gaping at us while we were inside hardly doing anything."

The whole time he was speaking she continued to undo his belt, then button, the zipper. She reached a hand down into his boxers and, with some difficulty, pulled his cock free of the waistband. He groaned as she took a firm grip and slid up and down.

"And what do you think they saw?" she asked.

It was getting hard to him to think. The wind swept coolly around his cock and balls. It was a totally new sensation. Her warm, smooth hand stroking him up and down worked in contrast to the breeze, making him moan again.

"I don't know." Her hand felt so good. It was hard to think. "A couple. A horny couple. A beautiful woman with a young man."

"That's right. And I bet it made them jealous to see our shamelessness, our arousal for each other, not a care in the world. I bet half of them will go home tonight and fuck each other harder than they have in years. The women, all those boring old housewives, will be thinking of you pounding your stiff cock into them. The handsome young man out with a woman old enough to be his mother —"

Josh groaned loudly and stiffened even more.

"Oh," Lana's eyes grew wide. "You like that. You like something I said?"

"Mm-hmm." He couldn't speak now. All his effort was on the sensation of her hand and trying not to come. She stroked relentlessly, up and down, up and down. His own jerk-offs felt nothing like this.

She leaned in and sucked on his earlobe, stroking faster.

"What was it I sad that set you off? Let's see... 'shamelessness?'" she whispered.

He breathed heavily. Up and down, her hands flew.

"Housewives?"

Up and down, zipping across his cock.

"Mother?" she said in a barely audible whisper.

He seized up, all his muscles contracting. Suddenly, he found Lana spinning around to stand behind him and taking his cock in hand like a firehouse, pointing it right at the restaurant windows. Several diners looked out, aghast, as Josh lost all control and blasted one, two, three, four, five enormous loads of cum onto the blacktop. Their eyes were glued to him, especially the women. He saw one plump lady drop her fork into her potatoes, gravy splashing all over her blouse. She never even noticed.

Lana slowed her strokes, milking him, squeezing out all the cum so it dribbled out in obscene gobs until he caught his breath. Then, laughing, she said, "Wave to them, Josh. Wave to your audience."

He raised a exhausted hand in the direction of the people. Lana joined him, waving his cock around wildly like a puppet taking its curtain call. She laughed riotously, and he found it contagious. It was ridiculous, of course. Exhilarating and ridiculous and incredibly sexy. They laughed so hard they fell over each other, doubling up and holding onto each other for support.

"Come on," she said, pulling him away.

"But isn't this your car?" he wheezed, pointing back to the car they'd been leaning against.

"Oh, no," she said. "I have no idea who's car that is." This sent them into another paroxysm of laughter, and Josh could barely get his cock stuffed back in his pants.

Eventually they made it around to the other side of the restaurant, where Lana's little black BMW sat parked. There were no stares from the windows on this side, so they could talk freely without gawkers.

"So," he said, "do you want to... I don't know, go somewhere?"

She took his cheeks in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You're sweet. No, I think I should head home now. Something came up and I've got to get an early start."

"Oh." He had a hard time masking his disappointment.

"Don't you pout, Josh. It's unbecoming. Tell me truly, did you have a fun night?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I really did."

"Good. Me too," she said, then she opened her driver's side door and leaned in to retrieve something from the arm rest compartment. From where he stood, Josh could see her skirt rising higher and higher. He expected to see her panties and was momentarily shocked when he saw the edge of her pussy lips. Then he remembered that her panties were in his pocket. He felt another surge in his cock, but before he could do anything she stood up again, holding a business card in hand.

"Take this," she said. "It's the name of a doctor. I've already made you an appointment for tomorrow."

"What do I need a doctor for?" he asked. He thought himself to be quite healthy.

"You can never be too careful," she said simply. "Just do it, for me. Please."

She batted her eyes. "Okay," he said.

"Thanks, Josh. I'll call you sooner."

His eyes must have betrayed him.

"Sooner than last time," she assured him. Then she hopped in her car and drive away, but not before rolling down and window and calling out, "Have a good time with those panties!"

A trail of dust kicked up in her wake and he was alone in the parking lot, a young man and his damp, purple panties.

END PART 3

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