Isolated Together

If you are looking for a quick stroke, this is probably not the right story for you.

This tale begins in the middle of March 2020, right around the time that the stay-at-home orders across the United States were first being issued. It involves a couple who were learning (like the rest of us) how to deal with the world of COVID-19.

This will probably be a three-part story, so check out the later chapters as they post.

I hope you and your families are safe and healthy.

***************

“Okay,” she whispered.

“I’m going to hang up. I want you to take a deep breath and count to twenty. Wipe your eyes and wash your face. They need to see you’re okay. I’m going to Facetime you in a minute.”

“Okay,” Hank blinked and tried to calm her breathing.

Shannon hung up. He ducked into the bathroom, wetted his hands and ran them through his unruly hair to try and tame his morning curls.

His hands were shaking. It took all of his willpower to open his front door.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Rovnak? Brenda and Howard, right? I’m Shannon; I’m a friend of Hank’s,” he introduced himself quickly. They turned to face him, bewildered.

Her father instinctively reached out to shake hands, but recoiled after a second, realising there was a new protocol to greeting people who were not immediate family.

“She’s fine,” Shannon continued, not giving them a chance to speak. He quickly hit the Facetime button on his phone. As soon as she connected, he held his phone up so they could see her face.

Hank’s mother almost burst into tears at the sight of her daughter.

“Are you okay?” Brenda stepped forward, but Hank’s father pulled her back, afraid to get too close to Shannon.

“Yes, Mom, I’m fine!”

“Hank,” Shannon interrupted before either could say anything else. “I want you to go out on to your balcony. We’ll be out in a minute.”

He didn’t hang up, but made it clear he was talking to her parents.

“We’ve been neighbours for a year since she moved in.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie, even though he was glossing over the fact that they had really just met a few days before. “If you want to come inside, you can see her from across the way. I’ve been working from home for the last two weeks. I promise I’ve been as safe as anyone can be.”

Leaving the door open, Shannon stepped back into his apartment. Her parents exchanged a worried glance, but followed, if for no other reason than it represented the only chance to see their daughter.

There was a clear path through his living room to the balcony. He paused only to grab a container of Lysol wipes off the counter. He made a show of wiping down the table and two of the chairs, as well as the railing facing Hank’s apartment.

Hank stood on her own balcony, her face a mixture of anxiety, fear and gratitude. She smiled feebly at the sight of her parents.

They rushed over to the railing as soon as Shannon stepped back.

He retreated back into his apartment to give them some privacy. At least as much privacy as anyone can have when the conversation has to take place outdoors and from fifty feet away.

thank you she texted.

you’re welcome. is there anything else i can do? he replied.

i’m going to order an ipad at walmart. can u go pick it up for me? they don’t have facetime.

don’t bother. i have a solution. u can pay me back later.

It took him about half an hour to set up a Gmail address, Apple ID and reset an old tablet he had laying around. He texted the relevant usernames and passwords to Hank as she talked to her parents.

Howard and Brenda stayed for a couple of hours, but they were clearly tired from traveling all night.

“I have something for you,” Shannon told them. Hank looked on intently from her balcony. He set the iPad Mini on the table next to the wipes. “This is my old iPad. I have already set it up so you can video call Hank any time you want. It has a screen protector and drop-resistant case.”

He looked over the other balcony. This was going to give Hank immediate piece of mind, but might drive her crazy in the long run, depending on her relationship with her parents.

“We can’t accept this,” her father said. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“Nah, it’s two years old. I have a new one,” Shannon shrugged. “Usually, I give my old one away to my mother or it just sits around.”

“How much is it worth?” Howard asked, reaching for his wallet. “They’ve got to be a few hundred bucks.”

Shannon’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Hank. take whatever he gives you. don’t argue.

“Maybe a hundred,” Shannon said. “It’s used.”

Her dad counted out six twenty dollar bills and set them on the table as her mother reached for the wipes to clean the iPad off, just to be sure.

“I already programmed her number in. Click on the green icon on the bottom row that looks like a camera,” Shannon instructed from six feet away. “Now press on her name . . .”

Hank’s phone rang.

“Hi, Mom!” she said through the screen.

“Oh, honey, this is wonderful.” There was immediate relief in her mother’s eyes. Her father’s, too.

“You need to be on wifi to be able to call anyone,” Shannon said, and gave them a sixty-second run-through on connecting to a wifi network. “I’d let you stay here, but I don’t have any extra beds. There’s a Residence Inn up the road about three miles. You are welcome to come over for as long as you’re in town and visit on the balcony.”

“Thank you,” her mother said appreciatively as the headed for the door. Shannon could tell she wanted to give him a hug, but didn’t.

She needed to hug her daughter, but couldn’t.

As soon as they were in the car, Hank Facetimed him.

“You are a lifesaver,” she sighed. “I didn’t think they’d come.”

“They’re scared as hell. We’re all scared as hell.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you yesterday,” she said. “I want you to go down to the hospital and get a COVID test. Tell them you’ve been exposed and they’ll give you the swab. Our lab just started doing the tests, so your test should come back faster than it would have last week.”

“Have I been exposed?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I don’t think so. I dropped that food off for you the other night. But none of the evidence we have right now indicates this is food-bourne. You could have come into contact with it from the containers I gave you, but if you washed them, and then washed your hands, you should be okay. But I would like you to go get tested. It would make me feel better.”

“Then I will go get tested. Will they be open today?”

“Go to the ER. Ask for Dr. Kajel. Tell her–”

“I’m telling them you’re my girlfriend!”

Hank blushed. And smiled sheepishly.

“I’d like that, Shannon” she whispered.

“Me, too, Hank.”

“Don’t you dare say anything to my parents, though,” she said with a snicker. “They’ll have us married by the end of the week. Mom’s gunning for grandchildren before I’m thirty.”

“I think we have to hold hands before we get to that point.”

She started to reply, but stopped to swipe at something on her screen. “It’s my parents. They’re trying to Facetime me. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you again,” she smiled before the screen went blank.

****************

Shannon was getting set up to log in and join his raid group when Hank’s name came up on his Facetime.

“Hi,” she said softly. “Thank you for taking care of my parents today. I’m sorry that it fell on you like it did, though.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

“Not really,” she replied wearily. “Not right now.”

“Okay,” he said, and let the matter drop. Hank was old enough that he trusted to bring up her infection when she was ready.

“But I wanted to do something to show you how much I appreciate you being there for me.”

“That’s what neighbours do,” he said simply.

“Not just as my neighbour . . . as my . . . um, quarantine . . . er, boyfriend.” Hank looked away for a moment, almost imperceptibly.

She wasn’t embarrassed, as far as Shannon could tell. Was it hope?

“Do you really want to be in your twenties with a boyfriend who’s going on forty?” he made a joke at his own expense.

“You’re only eight years older than me,” she fake pouted. “And I don’t give a shit about any of that. I would like you to be my quarantine boyfriend . . . and maybe once all this is over, I’d like you to be my real boyfriend.”

“I’d like that, too, Hank,” he said softly. “Or do I get to call you ‘Harriett’?”

“Don’t you dare call me ‘Harriett’!” she laughed. “I just wish my parents didn’t have a thing for old-timey names.”

“I like old-timey names,” he said. “It’s better than being a boy with a girl’s name. But you’d know how that goes, too.”

“Yeah, but I like it,” she said. “I’d rather just be plain old ‘Hank’ than have to spell out ‘Harriett’ on every official form. But that’s not why I wanted to call you tonight.”

“What’s up?” he asked.

She pulled her phone back to show that she was laying back on her bed. Her hair was down and fanned out over the pillow.

Light from candles on the nightstands flickered, bathing her in a soft glow.

Her shoulders were bare. The top sheet was tucked under her armpits. And pulled tight, showing the outlines of her breasts, their silhouettes barely falling to the sides of her chest.

Shannon drew in a sharp breath when he realised she was naked under the sheet.

She smiled and blew him a kiss.

Then she set her phone down next to her so it showed her profile. Only her shoulder, the outline of her breast and her head were visible.

“I was thinking of what I could do for you,” she said softly, looking at the camera. “And I think I have just the thing. Shannon . . . after our first date, I knew I wanted to sleep with you.”

“Hank, I don’t want to sleep with you,” he said quietly. Her eyes got wide for a second. “I want to fuck your brains out.”

“I like the sound of that,” she smiled back. “I was hoping you felt that way. I don’t know anymore. It seems like most people I meet just want to hook up, or they go straight from small talk to dick pix. You’re the first guy I’ve met in a long time who isn’t just a gross human being.”

“I’ll take ‘not gross’,” Shannon laughed.

“You’re ‘generally attractive’ as well,” she winked.

His heart skipped a beat when she drew two of her fingers into her mouth and sucked on them suggestively.

She lifted the sheet and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath then exhaled.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot before I go to sleep,” she whispered.

“What do you think about me doing?” he asked.

“I think about you kissing me. Would you like that?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Where would you kiss me first?” Hank’s eyes were still closed, her mouth turned up into a wry smile.

“Your lips for starters, they look very soft. I think I could kiss you forever.”

“Where else?”

“Your neck. Everyone loves to be kissed on the neck.”

“Where on your neck to you like to be kissed?” she asked dreamily.

“The back.” Shannon was getting hard watching Hank’s face, acutely aware that she was touching herself as they talked. “And right under my ear.”

“Me, too,” Hank said softly. Her eyes opened just a bit. “I want you to kiss me all over, Shannon.”

“All over?”

“All over.”

“Do you want me to suck on your tits?”

“I want you to suck on my little titties . . . I want you to eat my pussy . . .”

“I’m going to lick your clit until you beg me for mercy.”

Hank’s body shuddered as she masturbated for him.

“My cock is so hard for you right now,” Shannon continued, even though he was pretty sure she was only concerned with pleasuring herself. “You are so fucking hot, Hank. All I want to do is make your little pussy mine . . .”

“Oh, god!” she cried out.

“Look at me when you cum!”

Her eyes were hooded over with pleasure, but she met his gaze. Her lip quivered. Shannon could tell she was frigging herself at a feverish pace.

“I’m cumming! . . . I’m going to cum for you!”

“Cum, Hank . . . cum like I was eating your pussy right now!”

Hank’s body tensed and she rolled on to her side. She curled up into a ball as she stroked her pussy with her fingers.

She never broke eye contact as the orgasm consumed her. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

Shannon couldn’t help but stroke himself as he watched Hank pleasure herself.

Finally, she fell back into her pillow. Her eyes closed for a long moment.

Her face was flush.

He waited until she caught her breath.

“Thank you,” he said after some time.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. For being vulnerable like that.”

“Next time, I want to watch you,” she smiled contentedly. “Maybe we can cum together.”

“I think we can definitely make that happen.”

“Good night, Shannon.”

“Sweet dreams, Hank.”

“I hope to dream of you.”

****************

Brenda and Howard stayed for two more days. They came over mid-morning and sat on Shannon’s balcony while he worked in his office. He made sure to clean the second bathroom just for them, and put out more of the wipes and hand sanitizer he had swiped from the office.

Her parents bought lunch for the four of them and had it delivered in a safe, no-contact way. Hank and Shannon split paying for dinner.

Shannon’s COVID test results came back negative, which was a great relief to them all. While at the hospital, one of the ER supervisors who knew Hank slipped him a sealed package of surgical masks, as well as some hand-sewn cloth masks which had been made by some volunteers in the hospital’s auxiliary organization.

On Wednesday morning, there was a knock on the door. Howard and Brenda came in for just a few minutes to see their daughter before they headed home.

“Thank you for taking care of us,” Brenda reached out and gave Shannon a big hug since they knew he was not infected with the virus and he knew they had minimal contact with anyone but him. Howard also gave Shannon a big bear hug. “And thank you for looking after Hank.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied sincerely before scribbling his name and phone number on a Post-It note. “I’m just right across the steps from her, so if you need me to check up on Hank, just call me.”

They said their good-byes to Hank from Shannon’s balcony and then left to go home.

Both watched them drive off.

Hank wiped tears from her eyes. Tears of relief.

She looked over at Shannon and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and smiled impishly.

Before he could reply, Hank opened the collar of her bathrobe and flashed him the black lace bra which covered her pert breasts.

After blowing him a kiss, she retreated back into her apartment, leaving Shannon to work all day with his cock swelling in his sweatpants.

****************

“So what is your favourite position?” Hank asked, lazily rolling over her side.

Earlier in the day Amazon delivered to each of them a long flexible arm which clamped to the nightstand on one side and held a cell phone or small tablet on the other.

Both of them had their phones suspended above their beds. Shannon hoped the clamp worked as advertised or someone was getting a face full of iPhone. And probably a broken nose and black eyes.

Their texts and conversations were explicit, but the photos they exchanged were all PG-13 or better. Even when masturbating for the other, they were only visible from the shoulders up. Neither asked to see more of the other, and neither offered.

Shannon liked the mystery and the chase, and truly, he loved watching Hank cum, even if he could only see her face and hear her voice.

“It depends on my mood,” he replied, reaching for the tissues on his nightstand to clean up the mess.

“That’s a bad answer,” Hank rolled her eyes, even through her post-orgasm smile.

“What’s your favourite?” Shannon returned, settling back on his pillow.

“I like doggy,” she replied. “I want to feel you deep inside me. Your turn.”

“Doggy is good. Cowgirl, too,” he said thoughtfully. “But sometimes, just plain missionary is best.”

“I love feeling someone on top of me,” she said wistfully. “I want to spread my legs and feel your weight as you enter me.”

“You need to give me a minute if that’s where you’re going,” he laughed.

“What’s wrong, old man?” Hank teased.

“If I were your age, I’d be good for two or three more tonight,” Shannon sighed. “But I need some time in-between now.”

“So you’re saying that you’re going to need help handling my needs once all this ends?”

“Probably not for the first couple of days, but if your sex drive is still going this strong after that, you’re going to kill me.”

“It would be a helluva way to go,” she winked.

“That’s not a complaint, by the way; I’m just giving you fair warning.” He reached over for his iPad and opened up a browser window. “Speaking of . . . I’ve ordered something for you. UPS says it should be delivered tomorrow.”

“When did you order it?” Hank asked, puzzled.

“The day your parents left.”

“That’s fast.”

“I paid for expedited shipping, and it’s still taken five days.”

“I ordered some stuff last week with Amazon Prime and it’s still not here,” Hank mentioned. “I’m not surprised, though, with all of the shipping delays they’ve had and because what I ordered isn’t considered ‘essential’ or ’emergent’.”

“When it comes, I want you to put it on for me.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

“Spoilsport,” Hank pouted.

“I can’t wait to hold you,” he said softly.

“After filling me with cum.”

“Before, during and after.”

“I can’t wait, either,” she sighed. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Tonight? Big spoon.”

Hank reached over and piled up a couple of pillows behind her and pressed back into them.

As they had every night for the past five days, Hank and Shannon called via Facetime, talked for a while, made some sexual innuendo which devolved into X-rated dirty talk and then led to mutual masturbation.

Each described all of the nasty, evil things they wanted to do to the other, and what they wanted done to them.

During the day, Hank mostly left Shannon alone to work, even though things were slow. Over dinner, they talked and got to know one another. In the evenings, they watched Jeopardy! “together” or caught up on TV shows or movies.

Shannon’s usual solitude was interrupted in a good way. And since she couldn’t work her regular shifts, Hank adapted back to a day schedule that mostly synced up with Shannon.

One night, he even roped her into singing backup with his friends who were remotely recording a rendition of Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” before dropping it on YouTube. They seemed to be settling into something of a routine while confined to their homes.

She yawned, and then looked up at Shannon through the camera.

“Just so you know, this pillow does a shitty job of being you.”

“It doesn’t snore, so be grateful for that.”

“Good night, Shannon.”

“Good night, Hank.”

She winked and then reached for her phone. As soon as the screen went blank, Shannon took his phone down and set it on the wireless charger next to his bed.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered into the air before rolling over and going to sleep.

****************

“I’m going to kill you for this,” Hank swore softly.

Shannon laughed at her. It was lunch time. Several boxes had been dropped off at Hank’s apartment from UPS.

Some of the things were thoughtful gifts, like the long, memory foam body pillow. Some were practical, such as the small air fryer which he got on a clearance sale.

But then there was the box of sex toys.

Specifically the remote control vibrator which was nestled inside Hank. And Shannon had the control.

“Hands where I can see them,” he said playfully.

She lay back on the couch and put her hands above her head. Hank was wearing a short sleeve workout top. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

The vibrator was set on low. Her eyes were closed.

Shannon watched her teeth clench when he changed it suddenly from low to high.

“Touch your breasts for me,” he commanded.

Hank cupped her breasts over her compression top as the vibrator continued to buzz inside her.

When she started to convulse, Shannon smiled to himself.

“I’m gonna cum!” Hank cried out.

He left the vibrator run on high through the orgasm. Her legs shook.

When the moaning stopped, he dialed it down to low for a little while before turning it off.

It took Hank several moments to catch her breath. When she did, she stared directly into the camera. Directly at Shannon.

Her eyes were hooded over with pleasure. With desire.

“You are an asshole,” she growled, clearly threatening him with sexual fury.

“You’re not allowed to take it out for the rest of the day,” he reminded her. “Or tomorrow I’m going to make you put the vibrating buttplug in, too.”

“When I get my hands on you, I am going to fuck you up, Shannon Greer.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he replied sweetly. “I’ve got to go; lunch is over.”

“Just remember: Payback is a bitch.”

He blew her a kiss before hanging up.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he turned the vibrator on for a few seconds here. A minute or two there.

Every time, he got a text that either called him names or threatened him with retribution. But there were no complaints.

That night, Shannon fell into a fitful sleep after Hank talked him through a pair of orgasms, each time promising intense sexual revenge for the titillations he had inflicted on her throughout the day.

****************

“My mom wants to know if we’re sleeping together.”

“What did you tell her?” Shannon asked curiously.

“I told her we are going on virtual dates, but we haven’t even touched, much less kissed.”

“Did she buy that?”

“I don’t think so,” Hand replied. “She knows we’re closer than just neighbours. But I’m not sure she knows about sexting or our private Facetime sessions.”

“I think she’s smarter than you give her credit.”

“Probably.” Hank looked away from the camera and brought her iPad in to view. “I got a curbside pick-up time at Publix for tomorrow. Can you go pick it up for me?”

“Of course.”

“Is there anything you need?”

“I’ll text you a few things,” Shannon said. “Can I make you dinner on Friday night?”

“You can cook for me any time,” she said without hesitation.

“Do you like broiled salmon?”

“I do. Just no cilantro, remember?”

“I don’t use cilantro on salmon. Dill, lemon and butter.”

“That sounds delicious.” Hank tapped away at her iPad. “I’m going to make chicken and dumplings on Saturday, if you’d like to join me.”

“Do you even have to ask?” he laughed.

“I don’t want to sound presumptuous,” she winked. “I don’t know if you have any other quarantine girlfriends.”

Shannon snorted.

“Can I ask you something, Shannon?”

“Sure thing.”

“Why haven’t you asked to see me naked?” her question was serious. “We do a lot of dirty talk . . . but it doesn’t seem like you want more than that.”

“There is nothing in this world that I want than to see you without any clothes on, Hank,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want that through a screen. I want to touch you. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to feel your breasts in my hands. I want to kiss you from head to toe. I think only having pictures of you naked would just be torture.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I want that, too, Shannon. I don’t know how much longer I can go.”

“Quarantine sucks,” he agreed. “At least we’re in nice apartments. Unlike your roommate.”

“She said they’re going to let them off the ship on Saturday. She’s going to stay with her parents for a couple of days, and then drive back here.”

“Will she be able to stay there with you?”

“I’m due for another COVID test tomorrow,” Hank said. “If that comes back clean, she can come back here. I think I’ve cleaned this apartment from top to bottom about a dozen times by now. She doesn’t do any direct patient care, but she works in the lab, so she’s actually around a lot of the same stuff I am. Just in a much more controlled environment.”

“She doesn’t have sick people breathing or spitting up on them, huh?”

“No, but she gets to process all of the blood work and swabs. We’re the only hospital in the area that is set up to run coronavirus test kits right now–and that just started last week–so she’ll probably be doing those for the next few months.”

“I hope you guys are getting hazard pay,” Shannon said.

“Yeah, right,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m a CRNA, so I make more than most nurses, but we’re not making any extra right now unless we pick up some overtime. What about you?”

Shannon snorted again. “I’m just happy to be making my regular rate. Not going to Italy for two weeks is saving me about four thousand dollars. I’m also saving some money on gas, parking downtown and not eating out every day.

“Once we get out of quarantine, as long as I’m working overnights, you could be eating out for lunch every day,” Hank batted her eyes at Shannon.

“After all this craziness ends, if I’m still working at home, I’m never going to get any work done as long as you’re living in the next apartment over,” his voice dripped with desire. “All I’m going to want to do is fuck you senseless all day.”

“Be careful, Shannon,” she teased. “Your mouth is writing a lot of checks your dick is going to have to cash.”

“You’re going to be walking funny for a month after I’m done with you,” he promised.

They both laughed nervously.

Hank’s iPad started to ring.

“Like clockwork,” she winked at Shannon.

“Call me later,” he smiled. “Tell your folks, ‘Hi’, for me.”

“I will.” Hank blew him a kiss. She reached to hang up but paused for just a moment.

Leaning over for the camera, she gave him a good look down the V-neck of her t-shirt. She squeezed her breasts together to accentuate her cleavage.

Shannon caught a glimpse of her white bra before her lips covered the camera.

“Call you later, sweetheart,” she whispered before the screen when black.

****************

“You have an Apple TV, right?” Hank asked through the Facetime.

“My TV has Apple TV on it,” Shannon replied.

“Good,” she started fiddling with some of her controls. “I want to try something . . . I hope you’re not too far away.”

Shannon turned his TV on. A message popped up on the screen requesting permission to allow another device to airdrop. He clicked “accept” on the remote and a browser window popped up, mirroring the screen on her iPad.

“I thought we’d watch a movie,” she looked into the camera and wriggled her eyebrows. “A dirty movie.”

“I like the sound of that,” Shannon reached for his earbuds, which he plugged into his phone.

“I hope you like girl porn,” Hank brought up a keyboard and typed out a web address.

“Is this where we find out what each others’s adult movie preferences are?”

“What do you think I like, Shannon? What do you think my top three porn categories are?”

“From what I know about you, I’d say girl-girl, masturbation and threesomes.”

“Not bad.”

“How close am I?”

“Girl-girl is probably number one, especially the scenes that are made for women and by women.”

“Can you really tell?”

Hank stared into the camera at Shannon with the “Did you just say that?” face. “Any scene that has over-the-top fake screaming orgasms, the girls in positions that are definitely not comfortable, and some gross cumshot at the end was filmed by a man, for men.”

“So what are you other two top choices?”

“I also like male gay porn, and a couple of guy-girl sites that are run by women. What are your top three categories?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m going to guess . . .” her voice trailed off for a second. “Lesbians, gangbang and . . . hmmm . . . anal.”

“I can’t believe you figured me out.”

“You’re a guy,” she giggled. “You’re predictable.”

Shannon blushed.

“Okay, here we are . . .” Hank brought up a video. “I like this one. It’s just the woman touching herself. But she describes what’s she’s doing and she’s got that sexy Australian accent.”

“Can I ask you something?” Shannon asked as the video started.

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to answer this, but do you identify as gay? Bi? Curious?”

Hank smiled knowingly into the camera. “I don’t think so. I’ve never kissed a girl. I like guys . . . but a lot of straight porn isn’t to my taste. And women are so much nicer to look at than men . . . well, most men.”

On the TV, a well-dressed woman lay back on a double bed. There were only a couple of alternating camera angles. Sometimes it was just her face. Sometimes her whole body.

The woman in the video undressed. Not sensually, not as if performing.

“I like her because she looks real,” Hank said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “She doesn’t have lips filled with collagen or big, fake tits.”

That much was true. Shannon reached into his work-out shorts and began to stroke his cock.

“I still have your vibrator in, Shannon,” Hank said softly. “Please turn it on for me.”

He reached for the remote on the table and set it to low.

“Oh, that feels so good,” Hank moaned. “Watch her . . . see how she’s pinching her nipples, I’m doing that right now . . .”

On his phone, Shannon could see his girlfriend’s eyes glaze over. He could only see her face, neck and shoulders, but he imagined that what he saw on the screen, Hank was mirroring.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Hank’s voice was pleading.

“I’m so hard for you right now,” he whispered. “I want to spread your legs and eat you out until you cum . . . I want you to play with your tits while I do that, Hank . . . Would you do that for me?”

“Yes!” she gasped. “I want you to tie me to my bed and eat me until I pass out.”

“I’m going to eat you until you faint and then I’m going to fuck you all night.”

Shannon continued to run his hand up and down the length of his cock. He wasn’t in any hurry.

“I love watching you when you touch yourself, Hank,” he said softly. “You’re so gorgeous . . . I want to see your face when you cum for me.”

There was soft moaning from the woman on the TV, but Shannon’s full attention was on the woman whose face filled the screen on his phone.

He saw her jaw clench. She was shaking from her hand frigging between her legs.

Shannon pressed the button and upped the vibrator to medium.

“Oh, fuck!” Hank cried out. “Yes . . . oh, god, yes! . . . Fuck me . . . fuck me!”

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, Hank,” he coaxed her on.

Hank’s eyes rolled back into her head. She threw herself back into the couch as her orgasm overpowered her.

“I’m cumming,” her voice strained with desire. “I’m cumming for you . . .”

She was breathing raggedly. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Shannon turned the vibrator off when he noticed she was crying softly.

He wanted to reach through the screen and take her in his arms.

He felt helpless that he couldn’t.

She curled up in a ball on her couch. Hank pulled her robe close around her.

Shannon muted the TV. The video was still playing.

Neither said a word as she choked back her soft sobs. It took a few minutes for her breathing to become regular again. She wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Shannon,” she said quietly.

“Don’t be sorry, Hank,” he replied gently. “Don’t ever be sorry.”

“I, um . . . I just . . .”

“I understand,” he nodded. “Dandelion?”

She reached off screen to grab something, then waved her rainbow unicorn for the camera. “Right here.”

“So am I.”

Hank picked up her iPad and stopped the video.

She curled up with her stuffed animal on her couch.

“By the way, that was hot as hell,” he winked.

Despite her short fit of crying, she didn’t offer any further explanation. He didn’t press the matter and was just happy to see that it seemed to have passed.

Smiling appreciatively, Hank let Shannon pick the (not dirty) movie for them to watch for the rest of the night. They both fell asleep with their phones on.

****************

can you take the rest of the day off?

Shannon dropped his phone and fired off a quick Skype message to his boss. There was some work to do, but they were operating under “liberal leave” guidelines, and he had gobs of annual leave he needed to burn before the end of the calendar year now that many of the trips he planned were either canceled or were in danger of being canceled.

As soon as his leave request went through, he set a quick text message reply. anything for you. leave was just approved.

Not a moment later, there was a knock on his door.

Shannon was only mildly surprised to see Hank standing on the landing. She wore a loose-fitting button-down top and a pair of leggings.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi, there.” Shannon stammered.

“I, uh . . . just got a call from the lab at the hospital,” she fidgeted nervously. “I’ve been in isolation quarantine for two weeks now and have had two negative COVID tests in three days . . . My doctor has declared that I am officially carrying no viral load and have a very low probability of transmitting coronavirus.”

It took a second for that to register in Shannon’s brain.

“I would normally be going to work tonight, but my boss told me they already had someone to cover for me,” she drew her finger up to her lips and sucked on the tip for effect. “And since this Friday, Saturday and Sunday are my regular days off, it looks like I don’t have anything to do . . .”

“I can think of something for you to do,” Shannon muttered, unaware that he had spoken out loud.

Hank took the initiative and stepped across the threshold into his apartment. She dropped her purse and keys on the table next to the door.

Shannon took her in his arms. They pressed their foreheads together, their lips not quite touching.

It was the first look they had of each other up close and in person. Her chestnut hair hung down past her shoulders. Hank’s skin was soft. Shannon wrapped his arms around her slim waist.

“Is this what you want?” she whispered.

“More than anything in the world.”

“I don’t know where to go from here, Shannon. I don’t want to just be . . .”

“Shhhhh, I know,” he said quietly. Pushing the door closed, he pressed her up against it. “Just be with me for the next four days.”

Their lips met for the first time. Hers were soft and warm.

They kissed tentatively, each exploring the other. Her hands ran through his hair.

Shannon held her close. It wasn’t just because it had been so long since he had been intimate with a woman.

All of their late-night conversations. Their vulnerability. The socially distant meals. The movie dates.

Everything culminated in that moment.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked between soft kisses.

He nibbled his way across her cheek and down her neck.

“There is a part of me that wants to strip you down and fuck you senseless,” he breathed.

She nuzzled up to his neck. He gasped when she sucked on his earlobe. “Then why don’t you?”

Shannon pulled back and looked into her hazel eyes. “Because I only get to have you for the first time once. And I want . . . I want it to be special.”

With that, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to his bedroom.

“Shannon, sweetheart . . . I appreciate how gentlemanly you are,” she blew in his ear. “But you have been talking a lot of shit for the past two weeks. You had better be ready to wreck my little pussy.”

He set her down on the unmade bed. Kissing her again, Shannon looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to be walking funny for a week.”

“Promises, promises,” she snickered.

They stared at each other for a long moment, each unsure of that to do next. Hank stood and stepped into Shannon’s arms.

Kissing gently, he savored having intimate physical contact with another person for the first time in what seemed like forever. His hands lingered on her lithe body.

“Let me do it,” Hank whispered. She tugged at his shirt and the waist of his sweatpants. Her featherlight touch, raked his cock, which was rapidly hardening for her.

He stood there shirtless as she pushed his boxers down. His cock sprung free. Hank caressed it, her fingers running up and down its length.

She manoeuvered around him and pushed Shannon back on to his bed. He kicked his remaining cloths off.

The hungry look in Hank’s eyes was almost predatory.

“Very nice,” she cooed as her eyes took in Shannon’s naked form. He had no illusions about his physical shape. He was in his mid-thirties. He was reasonably fit, but not like he had been when he was younger.

It didn’t seem Hank cared, though.

Running her hands up his thighs, she stroked his cock gently.

Shannon’s eyes rolled back into his head when her lips brushed the tumescent bulb of his sex.

“Do you like that, Shannon?” she smiled wickedly. “Do you want me to suck your cock?”

“Yes,” he moaned as she stroked him.

She paused only long enough to push her leggings and panties down. Her shirt covered most of her body.

Her head bobbed up and down as she took him into her mouth, a little more each time.

His toes tingled.

The tips of her hair brushed his thighs. She was taking her time.

Hank ran her tongue from the tip of his cock down to his balls and back up.

It was all he could do to resist the urge to put his hands on the top of her head and force her down on him.

Her touch was hungry and eager. But slow.

She swirled her tongue around the tip. Shannon’s skin crawled.

Their eyes met. Hank’s lips formed a seal around his sex.

“I’m just . . . just warning you, Hank . . . if you keep that up, I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he moaned.

“Good,” her breath was warm against the wet, spongy head.

She went back to work on him, making love to him with her mouth. Shannon fell back into the bed at her oral assault.

Alternating between sucking on the tip. Kissing up and down the length. Her small hands cupped his balls.

“I want you to cum for me, Shannon,” she cooed.

Taking a deep breath, her mouth descended on him, taking nearly his entire length inside its warm, heavenly confines.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Shannon’s cock began to pulse.

She squeezed his testicles gently as he throbbed.

“I’m cumming,” Shannon gasped, unable to move.

Hank’s mouth was constantly in motion. Even has his orgasm subsided, she continued to massage him with her lips.

Shannon’s cock was spent but didn’t flag.

She kissed the underside down to his balls as he recovered.

“How was that?” she breathed, nibbling gently on his skin.

“Awesome,” he croaked.

“Good,” she smiled, continuing to massage his cock with her tongue. “Because now I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

With his dry spell ending, Shannon had no trouble recovering under her expert oral assault.

“Think you can keep up, old man?” Hank teased with a wink. Pushing him down on the bed, she turned and lifted her shirt up to her waist.

Her hips swaying provocatively, she pushed her leggings down over her hips, bending forward to give him a view of her firm bubble butt.

She turned her head and looked seductively at him. Tantalizingly slow, she exposed her rear end to him, with only a peek of her labia visible.

Shannon’s cock remained hard at her slow striptease. His eyes glazed over at the sight of this woman . . . almost ten years younger than he.

His for the taking.

Gyrating her hips in a slow circle, Hank bent over as her leggings fell to the floor. She kicked them away, her back still facing him. Shannon was mesmerised by the sight of her firm rear end.

Shielding her sex with one hand, she turned and lunged forward. Their lips met.

When he reached for her shirt, she brushed his hands aside. Shannon lay back as she pinned his wrists against the bed.

“Let me,” she whispered desperately.

He could have broken free, but was content to let her take control. The hungry look in her eyes promised unlimited pleasures.

Hank kissed him hungrily. He lost himself to the softness of her lips. The firmness of her touch.

With his cock hard between her legs, Shannon blindly thrust upward, trying vainly to find the wet entrance to her sex. Every time, Hank lifted up just enough to deny him.

16 March 2020

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Shannon threw his headset down on the desk for a moment, let out an exasperated sigh, and then put them back on. “Goddammit.”

It was a good thing everyone except the director was muted in the Skype meeting. The handful of other people in the office were swearing, too.

“Effective close of business today, the building will be closed to the public as ordered by the governor. For those of you who are already in a telework arrangement, do not report to the office unless you have an IT issue or some other reason to come in, and if you need to, notify your supervisor in advance. We’re moving everyone else into a work-at-home status beginning on Wednesday,” the director continued. “You will need to report to the division chiefs any of the agency’s equipment you need to work remotely . . .”

The meeting droned on for another twenty minutes as the staff was briefed on the office’s emergency plan to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic. Luckily, the agency’s purchasing system was one hundred percent electronic, so they could theoretically continue normal operations indefinitely.

Shannon logged out of the meeting, cursing some more under his breath. Of course, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. At least not anyone in his office. He paid attention to the news. The writing was on the wall, and nothing they told him was unexpected.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Immediately, he began taking stock of everything in his cubicle: What did he need in order to work from home? What was he willing to leave in the office for weeks or months?

The first thing he did was head to the supply room. Riffling through the cabinets, he found several bottles of hand sanitizer, some Clorox wipes and Lysol spray. He didn’t clean the place out, but he took more than one of each.

Then he stopped by the copier room and emptied out a couple of paper boxes to pack his things.

Most of the people in his department were already teleworking and scrambled for desks when they came in to the office. Shannon had the luxury of his own cubicle which he decorated liberally with collectibles and mementoes to discourage anyone else from sitting at his desk on the odd day when he wasn’t there.

Nearly everyone left him alone. His supervisor knew he was more than competent, the new people were intimidated by him, the village idiots were scared of him, and aside from the other people in the office who were in fantasy sports leagues, most of the regulars steered clear of him unless there was something they needed.

He had been with the agency for almost fifteen years and had a reputation as being one of the “go-to” people if anyone had questions. But he’d make the asker earn the answer.

Shannon had a carefully-cultivated reputation for being salty and grumpy to new people, anyone who asked stupid questions, or people who came to him only because they were too lazy to do their job and treated him like the “easy” button. He also said “fuck” and “goddammit” a lot and he liked to tweak management at every opportunity.

He took a load of things back to his apartment that day.

On Tuesday, he went in for his telework orientation, checked out a laptop, two monitors, docking station, keyboard, mouse and all the necessary cables to set himself up at home. Just about everything he thought he would need fit into the copier paper boxes. He grudgingly signed all the necessary paperwork and specifically asked if he could cancel the work-at-home agreement once the coronavirus pandemic ended.

Everyone else in the office was doing the same. He even managed to get written permission to take his super-comfortable work-issued desk chair with him. Along with two of his co-workers, they divvied up the remaining stock of wipes, hand sanitizer and disinfectant spray in the supply room.

At the end of the day–and after much grumbling–Shannon was officially a work-at-home employee.

He unloaded his car in several trips up the steps to his third-floor apartment.

The complex where he lived sprawled around a small lake. Set back from the main road, it was nice and quiet. There was a pool, workout room and tennis courts behind the main office. His building was made up of twenty-four two-bedroom apartments.

He lived on the top floor at an outside corner. The big bedroom was his. The other was a repository for his books, guitars and was also going to be his home office.

On his last trip up, Shannon passed his pretty neighbour as she left for work. She was wearing blue scrubs and her hospital badge.

They smiled at each other and that was that.

Shannon set up his computer, hooked everything up to make sure it all worked and could get on the internet through the cable modem and router.

Then he settled in for an evening of TV until he went to bed.

****************

On Wednesday morning, Shannon couldn’t log on to the VPN. Apparently, in the rush to get everyone approved for telework, his network permissions hadn’t caught up with him.

That was okay; he was getting paid regardless.

It was lunch time before he was able to log in, but after that he didn’t have any problems.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully.

By Friday, Shannon had settled into something of a routine. He even broke out a ratty bathrobe which he wore around his apartment and to all of his team’s conference calls.

The director gave an update and told everyone to expect the office to remain closed for the next several weeks, if not months.

Normally on Friday night, he might go out with friends, to a movie or out for some live music, but virtually nothing was open.

So he celebrated his first weekend of coronavirus quarantine by ordering take-out from a local Mediterranean restaurant just up the road.

Sitting out on his balcony, he looked across the way and saw his neighbour staring back at him. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and had her hair pulled back into a sloppy bun.

“How’s your lockdown going?” she called out.

“Ask me again in a month,” Shannon shrugged. “What about you?”

“I’m ‘essential’. I don’t know that I’m getting a lockdown.”

“Me, too, but at least I get to work from home.”

“That’s convenient. What’s for dinner?”

“Gyros, beer, baklava.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“What about you?”

“I ordered pizza. The app says it’s out for delivery.”

Shannon stood and went to the railing. “I don’t know that we’ve met formally. I’m Shannon Greer.”

Even though they had been living across the landing in the same building for over a year, their schedules seem to be opposite and they only saw each other in passing. She and her roommate moved in while he was away at a special detail for two weeks. By the time he thought to introduce himself, she had been living there for two months, and he decided it would be awkward at that point.

“Harriett Rovnak, but everyone calls me ‘Hank’.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hank,” he said. “The next time I get gyros, I’ll let you know.”

The pizza delivery driver pulled up just then. Hank left the balcony to answer the door but returned with her dinner after a moment.

She sat down at her Ikea porch table and they spent the rest of the evening talking from their balconies. Some of the other neighbours came out and it became a fairly social evening. Luckily, it was cool for March and the mosquitos weren’t out in force.

Shannon went outside on Saturday night on the off chance that he might run into his brunette neighbour again, but she didn’t come out to her balcony. The lights inside her apartment were on, though.

He did have a pleasant conversation with the older Asian woman who lived below Hank. Someone in a building across the parking lot was playing the guitar and leading an impromptu sing-along.

Sunday was slow. There were none of the usual sports on TV. Shannon ran out to pick up some groceries, but spent most of the afternoon working with some of his friends on a remote recording of some music for their YouTube channel.

Right around dinner time, he heard the doorbell ring. When he answered, there was no one there, but a Ziploc bag full of chocolate chip cookies hung by a string on the doorknob. He heard footsteps going down the stairs and then saw Hank walking out to her car.

His eyes fixed on her bouncing pony tail and the sway of her hips, which were alluring, even in her shapeless scrubs.

The handwritten note read: I work overnights, but if you want to get together for an early virtual dinner one night let me know. –Hank

Her phone number was scribbled at the bottom.

Shannon took the cookies inside. Writing his own contact information on a notecard, he slipped it in an envelope and wedged it into her doorjamb.

On Monday morning, he heard her door close right as he was getting logged in.

Most of the day was spent in virtual meetings. Very little actual work was being done. A lot of his co-workers were calling and messaging back and forth with all sorts of rumours and hearsay.

Despite his general disdain for management, Shannon liked the director. She seemed like a straight-shooter and not someone who was a professional bullshitter or a person with ambition who was using their current position as a stepping stone to some bigger and better job. But she had very little useful information on their situation, and wasn’t above telling everyone when she didn’t have a good answer.

Around mid-afternoon, he got an iMessage text from Hank’s number.

how about chinese from magic wok? i’m buying tonight.

sounds great Shannon tapped out a quick reply.

let me know what you want

Looking up their website, he made a short list. Nothing on the menu was overly expensive, but he didn’t want to over-do it.

2 eggrolls. crab rangoon. shrimp fried rice.

Her response came a few minutes later. is 5:30 too early?

looking forward to it

His workday ended at 3:30. Shannon didn’t really know what to expect, so he showered, shaved and put on a polo shirt.

A little before the appointed time, there was a knock on the door. Her door was closing just as he opened his.

A brown paper bag rested on the sill.

He gathered it up and found everything he ordered.

His phone buzzed a minute later. facetime?

Sitting down at his table, he set up his iPad Mini and angled it so she wouldn’t be looking up his nose.

Taking a deep breath, he started the video.

“Good evening,” she smiled. She was dressed for work in her blue scrub top. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid.

“Thank you for dinner,” he replied. “And the cookies. I made myself ration them, or I’d have eaten them all by lunch.”

They both dug into their food while making first date small talk.

“How long do you think this is going to last?” he asked, figuring he could mine her for medical information on the coronavirus.

“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?”

“Um, the short answer.”

“In some form, at least a year,” she said plainly. “This is something completely new. No human is known to have had this particular virus. And it usually takes at least eighteen months to develop a safe vaccine.”

“Really?”

“The virus has already been gene sequenced. Someone will have a vaccine ready for animal trials in a couple of weeks, if they don’t have one now. This thing was first noticed in China last November, so there are people who have known about it for a while. It just hadn’t hit us until now.”

“So why couldn’t they use that vaccine?”

“They’ll have to do animal trials first. Then human trials. What you don’t want is to rush a vaccine into production that hasn’t been tested. The side effects could be worse than the virus.”

“Worse than dying on a ventilator?”

Hank’s eyes flashed with sadness. “There are a lot of bad ways to go. And that’s one of the worst. But no one wants long-term chronic side effects.”

“I guess we’re going to be ‘socially distant’ until then?” Shannon moved to change the subject.

“Yeah, it looks that way.” Hank set her fork down and looked into the screen. “I really appreciate you making time for me tonight. I don’t have much of a life anymore.”

“I noticed you’ve been working a lot.”

“My usual schedule is seven twelve-hour shifts over two weeks. I’ve picked up a couple of extras to cover for people who are off. A lot of the nurses and people at the hospital are scrambling to get childcare now that the schools are all closed.”

“Don’t burn yourself out,” Shannon warned, trying not to sound like was lecturing her.

“I won’t,” she smiled back at him, but he could tell there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“What about your roommate?” he changed the subject again. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s stuck on a cruise ship off the coast of Ft. Lauderdale,” Hank snorted and laughed at the same time. “No one on their ship is sick, but the port authority won’t let them dock. They think it will be at least two more weeks before they let them disembark.”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s what they say the incubation period of this thing is. If you don’t develop symptoms for two weeks after the last exposure, the virus has either run its course or you are past the point where you are a danger of infecting other people,” she took a bite of her own eggroll. “Of course, what they learn about this thing seems to change every day, so that time frame could change anytime.”

The rest of their meal passed quickly before she had to go to work.

“Thank you for rescuing me from another boring evening by myself,” Hank said.

“I was going to say the same thing to you,” Shannon replied. “Would you like to have dinner with me again tomorrow?”

“I would be delighted.”

“What do you like?”

“I’m up for pretty much anything.”

“Do you have any special dietary needs? Vegetarian? Gluten-free? Allergies?”

“Um, I don’t like cilantro . . .”

“What? Who doesn’t like cilantro?” Shannon made his shocked face.

“About ten percent of the world doesn’t like cilantro,” she grinned. “Including me.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I know exactly what I’m missing; cilantro overpowers and destroys the taste of anything you put it in. Makes everything taste like soap. But to answer your question: I don’t have any food allergies.”

“We could do sushi if you don’t mind Asian two nights in a row,” he suggested. “Or we could get those gyros I promised you.”

“Either of those would be fine with me.” Her charming smile made his heart race. “Surprise me.”

“Okay, it’s a date.”

“A second date,” she winked. “Thank you again for dinner.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

They signed out of Facetime. About ten minutes later, Shannon heard her door open and close.

When he went to bed, he dreamt of a pretty girl with chestnut hair in yoga pants with a firm rear end, a tiny waist and a wry, crooked smile.

****************

“So why don’t you work from home all the time?” Hank asked through the screen.

“Left to my own devices, I’d only shower once a week and never leave my apartment. Going to work gives me an excuse to get out of here and at least pretend to be social.”

Shannon probably bought too much food. He ordered a variety of sushi, plus a couple of appetizers and a teriyaki shrimp dinner. After leaving the curbside pick-up at the restaurant, he sent Hank a list of what he ordered and told her to pick what she wanted.

He must have done okay because she was ravenously devouring her half of the meal.

“And here I thought I was the only person without a life,” she said between bites.

“All my friends are married or have kids, so we usually have to plan a month in advance to go out. And even then, someone bails half the time.”

“So why aren’t you married? You don’t have to answer that.”

“I was married. I got out of the Navy because she didn’t like me being out to sea for six months at time. But when I got out, she didn’t like me being around all the time, either. Most everyone I work with is either in a relationship or has a lot of baggage I don’t want to deal with.”

“Would you have re-upped otherwise?”

“Probably,” he shrugged. “But I did get a nice job with my veterans’ preference.”

“What do you do now? This roll with the salmon and avocado is really good, by the way.”

“I’m a purchasing agent for the Department of Transportation.”

“That sounds boring. No offense.”

“It’s a lot of pushing paper . . . well, electronic paper now. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“I work weird overnight shifts,” Hank sighed. “And most people my age are just now settling down. Truthfully, though, I don’t mind being single. I’d rather not have a partner than settle for someone just for the sake of not being alone.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Shannon raised his glass of Japanese beer. Hank drank from her glass of water in return.

“After tonight, I’m off for two days, then on for the next three,” she said. “Would you like to go on a virtual movie date with me tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. What do you have in mind?”

“We could watch a show or movie together. Or play a game over Facetime.”

Shannon thought for a second. “How about a movie?”

“That would be nice.”

“What would you like to watch? I have Netflix, Disney Plus, Amazon Prime and HBO.”

“Do you watch Westworld? I haven’t watched this week’s yet.”

“I’m caught up, but if you want to watch that tomorrow, we can watch that. Onward is out on Disney Plus now, too.”

“I haven’t seen that yet, either,” Hank looked thoughtful. “If you don’t mind, let’s watch Westworld. But you’re picking next time.”

“Okay, deal.”

Hank picked up her phone and looked at the time. “I’ve got to clean up and run. Since this is our second virtual date, I would like to give you a virtual kiss.”

Shannon blinked in surprise. Hank was forward, but not aggressive. Assertive.

“I would like that.”

She puckered her lips and playfully blew him a kiss through the screen.

“Good night, Shannon.”

He blew a kiss back.

“Good night, Hank.”

****************

“So if this were an actual date, what would happen tonight?” Hank looked up at the camera on her phone from the stove, where she had several pots going.

“Um . . . well, this is our third date,” Shannon said nervously, sensing a trap. “But it’s three dates in three days.”

“Where is your usual third date spot?”

“Our first date would probably be a non-committal lunch or coffee. A good second date is an afternoon low-stress activity . . .”

“Like what?”

“Hmmm . . . miniature golf. Or an outdoor craft and food festival. Maybe hand-holding. Quick kiss at the end. No tongue.”

“That’s very gentlemanly. Do you like mushrooms in your salad? What about tomatoes?”

“Yes to mushrooms. No tomatoes, please.”

“So what is your go-to third date?”

“Usually I don’t get that far,” Shannon frowned. “I’m pretty boring. And I’m in my mid-thirties, so usually by the third date, she lets something slip that’s a showstopper.”

“Showstopper? What are your deal-breakers?”

“Smoking and drugs. School-age children. Dogs or reptiles as pets.”

“I’m with you on the reptiles. You don’t like dogs?”

“We had neighbours who had very aggressive Dobermans and that scarred me for life.”

“What about cats?”

“Cats are fine.”

“Do you want kids? Do you have salad dressing?”

“I have salad dressing. Kids have never really been on my radar. That’s usually another reason why I don’t get to three dates. A lot of single women my age feel like they’re on the clock. Or they’re already a mother of three. If my wife and I had kids, I think I’d be happy about it. But now I live a very single lifestyle, and I don’t want to be a stepfather. Is that going to end our date?”

“No, I’m not letting you off the hook over that,” Hank snorted. “But I appreciate your honesty. Hold on a second.”

She disappeared from the screen for a moment. He heard her door open and she knocked on his.

Shannon found a small patio table outside his door which matched the one across the landing outside of her door.

Four containers sat on the table. One had some warm al dente pasta. The second was full of marinara sauce, sliced sweet Italian sausage, zucchini, and bell peppers. The third was a salad, and the fourth was a plate of warm brownies.

He took them inside and moved all the food to his own plates. He set Hank’s Tupperware in the sink and washed his hands, just as the CDC recommended.

Returning to where his iPad rested on the dining room table, he saw Hank waiting for him.

“This smells delicious.” He poured himself half a glass of merlot. “To the chef.”

Hank raised her wine glass in return.

“What about you? Do you want kids?” he picked up their earlier conversation.

“Maybe one day. But it’s not on my list of things to make my life complete.” She rolled her eyes unconsciously.

“What’s your third date plan?”

“Well, if a guy gets to the third date, I’m probably wearing matching underwear, perfume and a lot of make-up. I don’t have either the time or energy do deal with bullshit.”

“Are you wearing matching underwear tonight?” Shannon dared to ask.

“Play your cards right and you might find out,” she winked.

Their conversation alternated between flirty, serious and the usual get-to-know-you subjects.

“Do you have anything else on your showstopper list?” she asked.

“Um, political extremism, religiously fundamental, doesn’t believe in science, financial instability, registered sex offender, past domestic violence,” he replied after a second.

“All reasonable,” Hank nodded in agreement.

“What about you? What shuts you down on the spot with a guy?”

“Misogyny, homophobia, racism,” she said. “Talks about high school or college all the time. I don’t need to deal with a man-child who peaked when he was eighteen.”

“How am I doing?” he asked with a sly smile.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Hank leaned in towards the camera on her tablet. “Most women know in the first two minutes of meeting him whether a guy has a shot or not. The fact that you’ve gotten three virtual dates means I not only don’t think you’re a worthless sack of shit, but you could get an actual date out of this.”

“Someday soon, I hope.”

“Me, too,” she sighed. “I also appreciate that you don’t seem to be staring at my chest or my backside all the time, you haven’t asked me for nudes, and nothing on your list of deal-breakers had anything to do with a woman’s appearance.”

“It’s kind of sad that you’re surprised by that,” Shannon leaned forward, too. “And for the record, being generally attractive is on my list of things necessary for getting a date–”

“So I’m ‘generally attractive’?” Hank needled him.

“That’s the minimum requirement,” he replied with an eye-roll of his own. “You are very pretty.”

“I just rate ‘very pretty’? The guys who want to get in my pants tell me I’m beautiful,” she giggled. “Your chances for a fourth date are dropping by the second.”

“There are four women in my life who rate ‘beautiful’: my mother, my grandmother, my niece and my wife,” he winked. “Everyone else tops out at ‘very pretty’.”

“So you still think your wife is ‘beautiful’?” Hank’s eyebrow shot up.

“That’s ‘ex-wife’,” he corrected. “And objectively she’s pretty, but she doesn’t rate ‘beautiful’ anymore. The position of ‘wife’ is currently open.”

“Nice save,” Hank’s crooked smile made his pulse race.

“Nice enough to get me a fourth date?”

“We haven’t finished our third date yet.”

“I’m being presumptuous,” Shannon projected confidence while his heart pounded in his chest. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. “And I will cook dinner tomorrow night for you.”

“That is a surefire way to get another date,” Hank snickered.

When they finished eating, Shannon set his dishes in the sink. They turned on the latest episode of Westworld. He connected his headphones to the iPad and put one earbud in.

Hank didn’t talk during the episode, except for the odd time when something surprising happened. Shannon dug into the brownies about halfway through.

When it was over, they talked for a little bit about the show, sharing theories and discussing what might happen next week.

“Thank you for a wonderful third date,” she sighed after looking at the clock.

“Thank you for saving me from another night of boredom.”

“What would your normal night be?”

“Well, tonight is Wednesday, so I have to work tomorrow. Some of my friends have a YouTube channel where we cover songs, or I’d be playing video games.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you from them.”

“You’re more fun. And prettier.”

“Very prettier.”

Shannon laughed. “Yes, you’re very prettier than my friends. And my raid guild.”

“So tomorrow night?” Her eyes lit up with hope.

“Yes, if you would like.”

“I would like that very much.” She set her tablet down on her coffee table and sat back on the couch so most of her body was visible. “And just so you know . . .”

She tugged at the collar of her blouse just enough to show him a hint of the black lace strap on her bra. Then she pulled down on the waist of her pants to show the top of the matching panties.

“Good night, Shannon.” She blew him a kiss through the camera, and before he could respond, the screen went blank.

He went to take a cold shower before bed.

****************

“I had a dream about you last night,” Hank twirled the spaghetti on her fork.

“You didn’t wake up mad at me, did you?” Shannon fumbled his garlic bread, dropping it back on to his plate.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “What I remember was mostly good. Why do you ask?”

“My ex-wife had a dream about me once where dream-me had sex with some alien woman, and when she woke up, she was legitimately angry for a couple of days.”

Hank laughed. “That’s hilarious. No, you did not sleep with some alien chick in my dream.”

“Good.”

“You slept with me.”

Shannon nearly spit Margaret-Ann Greer’s world-famous meat sauce all over his iPad.

“And you were pretty good,” she winked.

“Well, crap. I guess all I can do now is disappoint you,” Shannon recovered quickly.

“I haven’t had a dream like that in a while,” her voice turned wistful. “I haven’t been in a dry spell this long, either.”

“Is it more or less than a year?”

“Are you really turning this into a contest?” she teased.

“Fourteen months,” Shannon snorted. “Just sayin’.”

“It has not been that long, for me,” she conceded. “How are you not blind?”

He raised his hand and flexed it in front of the camera on his iPad. “Check out how toned my wrist and forearm are.”

They shared a laugh that was part nervous, part flirty.

“So are you a boobs or butt guy?”

“Why not both?” Shannon shrugged.

“If you’re into tits, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Hank started intently into the camera.

“From what I have seen, you have very nice breasts,” Shannon said. “Of course, it would help if I could get a look at them in good light while you’re wearing something other than scrubs . . .”

They both laughed nervously.

Impulsively it seemed, she turned to give him a side profile. She sat up straight and stuck her chest out.

The blouse wasn’t loose, but it wasn’t skin-tight either. Her perky breasts would fit very nicely in his palms.

Shannon’s cock seemed to spring to life.

“What do you think?” Hank asked.

“I think I’m going to be one having good dreams tonight.”

“Do something for me,” she said suddenly.

“What can I do for you?”

“Stand up . . . take two steps back . . . unbutton your top button . . . roll up your sleeves to the elbow . . .” Hank instructed. “Now turn around . . . very nice.”

“Inspecting my dad bod?”

“If you don’t have kids, it’s not a dad bod,” she pointed out.

“So you like pudgy guys who are old enough to be your father?”

“You are not old enough to be my father. And you’re in good shape.”

“My scale doesn’t think so. How old do you think I am?”

Hank shrugged. “Thirty-three.”

“Try thirty-seven. The last time I was in good shape was ten years ago.”

“Ten years ago, I was nineteen,” she snickered. “You’re robbing the cradle!”

“There’s no way you’re twenty-nine,” he said, and not because he was trying to flatter her.

“Well . . . bachelor’s degree in four years, two years work experience, three years to become a CRNA and I’ve been working in the ER for almost two years now.”

“Do you like working in the ER?”

“I do,” she replied. “Every day is different. And we don’t have any real long-term care obligations. If they’re fine after the visit, we discharge the patient. If they require further treatment, they go on to the floor. The hours are long, but it’s worth it. What about you? How’s life as a purchasing agent?”

“That’s ‘procurement analyst’,” he corrected her playfully. “It’s okay. Mostly boring. But it pays the bills and funds my lifestyle.”

“Your lifestyle? What are your vices, Shannon Greer?”

“I dabble in music, but I like to travel,” he replied. “The Navy gave me the wander-bug.”

“Where will you go once all this is over?”

He thought for a second. “Well, it looks like I’m going to lose out on my trip to Florence and Tuscany in May. I was stationed in Italy when I was in the Navy, and it’s always nice to go back.”

“I don’t think you want to be anywhere near Italy right now,” Hank’s eyes got dark for a second. “Where else would you like to go?”

“I like traveling anywhere. I take a backpack with some clothes in it and just go.”

“Even if you don’t speak the language?”

“Especially if I don’t speak the language.” Shannon didn’t know it, but his eyes lit up when he talked. “I love just being somewhere new. Strange sounds, strange smells, strange food. I like meeting people from cultures different from ours. In most of Europe, everyone under the age of fifty can speak pretty good English.”

“And you go by yourself?”

“Sure,” he stopped for a second, thinking of how to say what he wanted next without offending his Facetime companion. “It’s a little different traveling as a single man. I don’t know that I would do this if I were a single woman. A lot of people see an American and charge double, but I don’t worry about some things which can happen to women by themselves in some parts of the world.”

“I wish I could travel more,” Hank said wistfully.

“Why don’t you?”

“I work too much. I have loads of student loan debt,” she frowned. “And I don’t know where to start.”

“Get out a map and go.”

Hank snorted. “I don’t have gobs of vacation like some people.”

“That is one advantage of federal employment: separate annual and sick leave. I’ve been there long enough that I accrue enough leave to be in ‘use or lose’ right now,” he said. “So I can up and take a month off at a time if I want.”

“And what you do? Just walk in and tell them you’ll be gone for four weeks?”

“Something like that,” he laughed. “If I take more than ten consecutive work days off, I have to get special permission from the director’s office, but they’re usually pretty good about letting me go, as long as it’s not around the end of the fiscal year. Let me ask you this, Hank: If you could take a vacation anywhere in the world for a month, where would you go?”

She paused for a moment to think. “When I was a kid, we used to drive across the country in an RV. I swear we stayed at every campground west of the Mississippi where it was only us and the iron ranger. I’d like to fly to Europe, get on a train or bus, and go from Spain to Russia. Stay at little hotels or hostels in every little town along the way.”

“That sounds great. Maybe when everything settles down, you’d let me take you on that vacation,” Shannon said the words before he could stop himself. “If you’re still speaking to me then.”

“I think I’d like that,” she whispered so softly, he could barely hear her. “So this is date number four.”

“Virtual date number four.”

“Virtual date number four,” she echoed. “What would that get me? If we weren’t stuck being socially distant?”

“I could knock on your door and we could find out.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Hank got suddenly serious. She looked away, nervous. After a false start, she spoke. “Last Tuesday, someone came through the ER after an auto accident. They were admitted and tested positive for the coronavirus. I didn’t treat them, but several of the people I work with did. We’ve got masks and gloves and all that, but our stockpiles aren’t great, so they’ve been rationing personal protective equipment . . . We were all tested, and we’re doing extra sanitation . . . but I could have this thing . . . We don’t expect to get our tests back for a couple of days.”

She took a deep breath and looked into the camera, a flash of fear in her eyes.

“I should have told you earlier, Shannon. . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Hank,” he tried to sound as reassuring as he could. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Wiping a tear from her eye, Hank composed herself.

“Do you have any stuffed animals?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she replied.

“Go get one. Your favorite. We’re going to watch a movie together. Curl up with your favourite stuffed animal and pretend it’s me. The fourth date is where we stay in and cuddle. Making out is optional.”

“With tongue?” she asked slyly.

“Maybe second base, too,” Shannon winked. “You could even sleep over if you want.”

“That sounds like a wonderful date.”

In the middle of Toy Story 3, Hank fell asleep.

Shannon drifted off himself, his last sight was Hank’s angelic face, her hair fallen over her eyes. In her arms, she clutched a rainbow unicorn. She looked so peaceful.

****************

Hank didn’t call or ask to get together on Friday afternoon. He knew she was working three nights in a row over the weekend.

Right about the time when he was about to log into one of his online games to meet up with his raid guild, his phone buzzed.

got bored at work the text message from Hank read.

A second later a picture text came through. Her face wasn’t visible in the selfie, but she had pulled up her scrub top so her flat tummy, fitted pink tank top, and sports bra were visible.

slow night? he sent back.

the ER is. corona has fewer people out running around and doing stupid shit.

i guess slow is good. For a second, Shannon thought to ask about her COVID-19 test, but decided against it. She’d tell him if she wanted to talk about it.

About twenty minutes passed before she responded.

sorry. department head just stopped in.

you don’t have to apologize for anything. ur at work. i’m just goofing off.

sorry i fell asleep on you last night.

i’m not offended. u missed me crying at the end of TS3 like i always do

the girls here want a picture of u. they said to make it sexy.

Shannon thought for a minute about what kind of “sexy” picture to take. He was wearing an old t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms.

Inspiration came after a second.

The Prince Charlie jacket and vest fit a little bit tighter than the last time he had worn it, but he put it on over a dress shirt and tie, along with his kilt and sporran.

He snapped a couple of pictures of himself in the mirror before settling on one he liked. He didn’t bother with the hose, flashes and brogues, so he cropped the picture from the knees up.

A few minutes after pressing send, a Facetime request came through.

“Wow, you really clean up well!” Hank giggled. She was wearing a surgical mask and a face shield, as were most of the staff milling around in the background.

“Give me some warning next time, and I might even shave.”

“Sami wants to know what’s under the kilt.” There was laughing in the background.

“There’s one way for you to find out,” Shannon winked, causing Hank to blush.

“I have to ask: Why do you have a formal kilt?”

“My cousin got married a few years ago and since we’re of Scottish descent, everyone in the wedding party went all-out.”

“Scottish? Really?”

“Clan Greer. Look it up.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He noticed several of the other nurses moving in and out of the picture. It looked like they were in a break room and she was calling away from any patients or patient charts.

One of the nurses came up behind Hank and winked. “He’s a cutie in the kilt, Hank. And you said he cooks? Marry him faster.”

She waved at Shannon and then left before Hank could smack her.

Of course, Hank just blushed that much deeper.

The intercom came on and said something that sounded medical.

Hank frowned. “Sorry, got to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, I understand.”

She made the motion of blowing him a kiss, and then the screen went blank.

Before he changed back into his flannel pajama pants, he took one more picture of the kilt hiked up. Not enough to be truly revealing, but from the belt down, and far enough up the hip to show he was going “traditional”.

It was about four in the morning when his guild finished their Friday night raid and he logged out. Hank wouldn’t be getting off work for another three hours.

The picture went out with a short text. going to bed. sweet dreams.

When he awoke the next day, there was a picture text for him. He could tell the selfie was taken against the door to her apartment from the waist to her knee. Hank had pulled her scrub pants down to show her skin-tight lycra shorts that covered her shapely rear end.

i’ll be thinking of you when i go to sleep this morning.

****************

Shannon woke up on Sunday morning to the sound of someone pounding on a door.

Not his door.

Hank’s.

He stumbled out to his living room, thinking there might be some emergency. He heard a woman’s voice out on the landing.

“Hank, are you okay? Open up, honey!”

Panic.

Reaching for his phone, Shannon started to dial 911, but a call from Hank’s number came in at the same time. He pressed the “accept” button. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my parents!” Hank wailed. It was obvious she had been crying.

“What can I do?” he asked immediately.

“I can’t let them in!” she sounded distraught. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this . . . I got my COVID test back yesterday; it was positive. They won’t let me come in to work. I have to quarantine for at least two weeks . . . and . . . and Daddy’s heart . . .”

Her voice trailed off, as she started to cry.

“I made the mistake of telling them yesterday . . . they drove all night, and I can’t see them! They can’t come near me!”

“Are you okay?” It was everything he could to do sound calm. The last thing Hank needed was for him to flip his shit in front of her or her parents.

“Yes,” she sounded both relieved and frustrated. “I’m asymptomatic. Not even a fever. But they ran two separate tests, and both were positive for the virus.”

“Well, ‘asymptomatic’ is good,” Shannon chewed on his lip for a moment, keenly aware the people on the landing were still pounding on Hank’s door. “What are your parents’s names?”

“Howard and Brenda . . . Why?”

“I need you to trust me.” A plan formulated in his mind quickly. “I need them to trust me.”