Olivia: The Hottest Mom

Olivia left California and Cody for her new job in Chicago, and Cody is in college, working on his degree. He misses the Hottest Mom, and moves on with his life anyway. He still thinks about her, wondering how she’s doing, and at the same time has taken his well-learned lessons to heart, much to the delight of his girlfriend.

“Fuck, Cody, fuck, baby…” Her groans were quiet in the early morning light leaking through the blinds; we didn’t have roommates, but the apartment walls were only slightly more substantial than paper-thin, and there were times, not often but clearly today, when she just wanted a quiet Saturday morning lay.

I’d awakened to one of her patented good morning, let’s fuck blowjobs, her lips and tongue working my hardening shaft almost delicately, coaxing me to consciousness. The soft, wet sounds of her mouth on my cock nearly drove another climax out of me, only a few hours after our last session, and I had groaned, asking her not to stop. Between my knees, she had her hair up so I could watch her, naked and filled with youth and lust, gobbling my cock into her mouth. She moaned around my erection, and her eyes flashed with teasing amusement.

She obviously knew I was ready to cum, and had withdrawn her mouth, then moved her body up my legs and came to rest straddling me, her tanned hips centered over mine, the wetness between her legs obvious on my hard on. She looked down at me, at the same time sliding my cock delicately inside her gorgeous blond pussy. Sucking my cock had her wet and ready for me, and I felt myself penetrate her, going all the way up inside, our groins resting together. Rocking slowly, unwilling to let me finish too soon, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, rocking her hips languidly, just enjoying our time together this morning. The delicate pink nipples tipping each of her petite, firm breasts were tight and erect, and she opened her eyes to look down while she humped me. “I love you. Cum inside me again.”

“I love you too, Sheila.” It had taken nearly three months of almost nightly fucking for us to acknowledge the word ‘love,’ and another month to actually speak it to one another on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t an integral part of our relationship; the sex was much more significant, but loving each other, if not actually being in love, kept us warm and eager. We started out caring for each other a lot, which grew to being incredibly fond of and comfortable with each other, and finally to that little word. That had been over a year ago, and we were still happy and together.

She smiled, enjoying my words as much as the sensation of my third exploration of her delights since coming home together last night. We’d started in the kitchen, a little kiss bursting into stripping each other in a frenzy, making out naked, standing on the linoleum before I lifted her onto our little dinette table, pounding her for ten minutes before we both came. In bed she had me on top of her, letting me rock her to a squealing orgasm, and we had heard a couple of half-hearted thumps on the wall when she came.

“You feel so fucking great inside me, Cody. I want to blow off homework and just do this all day, naked in bed, you inside me, maybe sixty-nine for a couple of hours…” She grinned at that thought. “Weekends were made for fucking you…,” she intoned in an announcer’s voice. Her cadence was the same as the beer commercial we heard every night the TV was on, which was to say about once every week or so.

I decided not to mention our finals next week, before spring break. No sense in breaking the mood, or either one of us neglecting to cum hard again. My only answer was to push my hard-on upward into her cunt, lifting my hips and her whole body off the mattress with each thrust. She giggled and moaned at the same time, an endearing sound I loved to hear. Her hands ran over my chest, feeling the hairs there as she caressed my skin with her soft hands. “Tell me when you’re going to cum again, Cody. Tell me…”

My hands found her hips, and helped her to start humping to and fro instead of up and down, and her moans started to get louder. “Yesss… Baby, fuck me like that, I want to feel you inside me, feel you shoot that hot cum inside my cunt…” She wasn’t quite as quiet as she had been sucking me awake, but was still well below the threshold of what would pass through the walls to the adjacent units. Sheila had also learned very quickly the sheer erotic power of dirty talk during sex.

Gritting my teeth, I held back as long as I could. The truth was, if Liv had been the ideal first lover a man could have, Sheila was the ideal second. She’d had a crush on me our senior year, and never acted on it. Overhearing two moms, Liv and hers, talking in hushed voices about all of the sexual exploits we’d shared in two brief months before Liv had moved cross-country for a new job, had fired her interest, and she came to me that Labor Day weekend to find out how much I could teach her.

Repetition makes good habits, and Sheila loved to try everything she liked over and over with me. She was the best pupil, and had taught me a few things herself. I did love her, not as deeply as I sometimes still hungered for Liv, but Sheila understood that, savored our time together.

I felt my balls clench. “Sheila, I’m about to make it…” My voice was a soft hiss, but she reacted as if it had been the joyful shout I had wanted to give her. She dropped down on top of me, opening her mouth for a long kiss, and put her arms around my neck, redoubling the speed she humped me with.

Pulling her face away from mine only fractionally, she said, “Oh, Cody, cum baby, cum baby… Fill me up again… I want to feel your jizz inside me, feel your cock shooting every drop into my cunt… Cum, baby, cum baby, cum baby…” Her eyes were half-closed, almost hypnotized by our movements and her low, sexy chant, almost an erotic incantation.

The feel of my load, starting deep inside my testicles, and planning its path over the length of my erection, was enough. “I’m…cumming, Sheila. I’m going to…” I gasped with the first spurt, and felt her tighten her pussy around my cock, even while we continued to fuck. Our mouths opened again in a frenzied kiss, moaning our orgasms into each other’s mouths, my hands cradling her buttocks while she kept moving her hips, and soon I felt my semen dribble out of her hole down the length of my shaft, pooling in my pubic hair, slippery and hot.

We came to a rest, her cheek against my chest, eyes closed in rapture, both our bodies slowing down for a break after our carnal sprint. “Cody, I love waking up next to you, and I fucking love waking you up this way.” She sighed and hugged me tight. “And I love you, Cody.” I hugged her back, not quite ready to climb out of bed, though I knew it always led to a weekend shower for two.

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

College had been hard work, and I was diligently pursuing my four-year degree, then the plan was a masters in statistics. Boring stuff, and, yes, I had found my niche as a numbers nerd, but my future was probably in very good shape. Computers were the next Big Thing, and numbers were king. But the numbers and the degree, long nights crunching numbers, memorizing formulae and eventually qualifying for my securities license weren’t the really fun part.

After Sheila spent six months in the Berkeley dorms, the two of us coupling as often as possible on the little full-size mattress they thoughtfully provided, we had moved in together, much, I’m sure, to the relief of her roommate, who Sheila told me didn’t approve of our premarital sexual exploration. I think she knew it wasn’t premarital at all, just the two of us taking pleasure and joy in sharing our time and bodily fluids as often as possible.

Sheila’s parents and mine pretended we were friends sharing the rent, although we knew they didn’t honestly believe that for an instant, or shouldn’t have. During our time together, I taught Sheila everything I’d learned from my time with Olivia, and unleashed a sexual dynamo that had, pardon the mixed metaphor, simmered just beneath the surface of the ‘good girl’ façade she presented to the world. She stayed blonde, although her pubic hair darkened a couple of shades over the intervening months.

Sheila surprised me many times with her initiative and penchant for experimentation that left us both panting in post-coital bliss. One evening, she knocked on the front door of our apartment, and when I opened it, her shy smile belied the fact she was completely naked. Several of our neighbors, also students, saw her waiting as they entered their own apartments, staring and no doubt wondering how fun she would be as a roommate.

The first time we had made love, in the open behind the pool equipment shack, I’d experienced her exhibitionistic streak first hand, and she loved that it was dangerous, and we both found it very arousing. For her, a lack of sexual routine was as exciting as the first time could be, and had been, in our case, and Sheila reveled in spicing up our sex life up in every way she could conceive.

Once a week, Sheila cooked for us wearing only a cotton apron, completely plain, and I thought at first she didn’t want me distracted by that one piece of clothing from her cooking, or her beautiful body. She delighted in accompanying me to nude beaches she picked out from a well-thumbed, slightly dog-eared book of them, and making love outdoors, dodging other bathers and the occasional park ranger. So far, we had been fortunate, and the danger of discovery made our lovemaking even hotter. That by itself reminded me of Liv, but in a happy way, and I remained always grateful for Liv’s love and free nature.

The best weekend we had was only two months before we parted. Nancy, from the swim team and her best friend since first grade, came over to visit Friday night. Her failure to entice me in the Makeout Room at our final swim meet had me a little embarrassed still, but Nancy laughed it off, saying something about bygones. That night, she came into our bedroom from the couch, stripped her clothes off as we watched, and climbed into our bed. Until she left on Sunday, we enjoyed every minute of my first and only threesome with them. Although neither one had said anything about it, I had the strong impression the whole weekend had been planned, or at least outlined, before Nancy turned up to visit.

Saturday morning, they invited me into the bathroom for a shared blowjob; it was a tight fit in the tiny stall for the two of them, and Sheila came out dripping with water, which was very sexy, and Nancy helpfully scrubbed my back under her friend’s approving gaze. Later they took turns letting me lick their pussies while the other one played with or sucked my hard-on, or kissed and sucked the other’s nipples, playing with and gingerly kissing each other’s twats while I was balls deep in one or the other. Between the three of us, Sheila was the boldest, though Nancy’s native enthusiasm played well all weekend, and she even woke me Sunday morning with a blowjob, Sheila next to us in bed, watching with a great deal of interest.

It was Sheila’s first threesome as well as mine, and, I found out later, Nancy’s. When Nancy left, we promised to invite her back, which we never did, and she promised to come back and visit, which she never did.

Sheila admitted to me that night that she and Nancy both had crushes on me in high school, and since they’d turned eighteen that spring, both shyly noticed the occasional tenting of my swimsuit, sharing their thoughts and wondering privately in sly whispers how a man would feel inside them. I hadn’t known then that women got just as horny and desirous as men did, suspecting Liv might be the only example of that on Earth. I was happy to be proved wrong, and equally happy to have been the object of both their desires, if only for one sensuous weekend.

I then told Sheila about the time Nancy had nearly cornered me in the Makeout Room in Ukiah, and she laughed merrily. “She told me. Neither of us knew about Mrs. Nichols then. I told her about the two of you after we got together, and she understood, but always wanted to see what you were like in bed.”

Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper, and she revealed something she had never breathed to a soul. The final spring of our high school days, Sheila and Nancy had both turned eighteen, and were very horny and curious. On a sleepover they decided to see what sex might be like. Both wondered what a hard cock would be like driving inside them, and all the talk got them, as my Dad would say, “wound up.”

Their first kisses had been tender and tentative, before they took off their nightgowns and made out naked, moving naturally to kissing and sucking on each other’s breasts. They progressed quickly to playing with each other’s pussies, at first just stroking the kinky hair over their labia, playing with their clits, before welcoming their fingers inside. It wasn’t a hard cock, but they both loved how it felt.

Finally, driven to complete sensual abandon, they had very cautiously tried oral sex. They both wanted to fuck a guy, but the touch of a feminine mouth on their labia and clits felt more wonderful than any other making out or heavy petting they’d tried with anyone else until then. It was forbidden, and they needed very little urging to try it with each other. Sheila went first, delicately licking Nancy’s mousy brown pussy to a climax that had surprised both of them. Nancy reciprocated her efforts, and that orgasm was less surprising, but just as joyful, as the first. It was the only time they’d experimented with that, either together or with other women.

Both lost their virginity with different guys on Prom Night.

For the past year, Sheila had felt guilty about snapping me up scant weeks after Olivia had left, jumping the line in front of Nancy, and invited her old friend over to balance the scales. I was glad to help. Sheila and I were otherwise inseparable and completely faithful during our time together. We loved each other, not with the fiery intensity Liv and I once had, but close enough.

In June of 1982, two months after our menâge a trois, just before finals week, Sheila came to me, teary-eyed and happy, which struck me as odd until she explained. She had been accepted into an undergrad program at Radcliffe, and would be leaving right after finals. Permanently, or as permanent as college ever was. We spent the next five nights in bed, getting our fill of each other, like squirrels storing nuts for the winter, fucking like mad. When she left the following Friday, we promised to keep in touch. To my surprise, we did, up until her marriage two years later.

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

Our little off-campus apartment was suddenly empty, and through habit I kept the place clean and organized. That was at least as much due to Sheila as it was to my chosen academic discipline. It was lonely, but I figured I needed a breather, a break from sex, but I hoped only a short one. I was determined to be very selective with my next girlfriend, because whoever she was would have a very high bar, two of them in fact, to meet.

In October I encountered Hilda, a German exchange student in Berkeley’s science program, who was working doggedly towards her degree in a very rarefied field of chemistry. She was friendly enough, but distant, very cool to others, with a banked fire in her breast and loins, I found out soon enough. We started dating a couple of weeks later, then for three weeks almost exclusively. At that point, she was evidently pleased enough with me to announce she was ready for me to, as she put it so romantically and tenderly, bed her. Hilda was very enthusiastic in the sack, and enjoyed sex as much as I did; I’d never heard Jawohl! spoken so many times, or so loudly as that first night, or the nights since.

Six weeks into our carnal relationship, she revealed during pillow talk that her full first name was Brunhilde, which she said meant “warrior maiden with a breastplate”. We both chuckled about that; in bed, and often around the apartment after she moved in a month later, she wore nothing, breastplate or fabric, above her waist, and sometimes nothing south of her waist either. She was European and very modern, thinking nothing of partial or full nudity, and found Americans amusingly preoccupied with modesty. She liked to strut around, for me to see her topless, or naked, and very much liked for me to touch her.

Hilda was blonde, like Sheila, but an inch taller than me, solid, muscular, and very feminine, like a warrior-maiden in Norse mythology. She often kept her hair in braids on both sides of her head, and she looked every inch the Teutonic goddess. Her curves were thick and firm, her frame what some would call sturdy, and she did something I’d never seen before, shaving her pussy completely bare every morning. The blonde hair on her head was thick and wild when it was unbound, which it always was in our bedroom, and always in the twin braids or a bun, very restrained, almost severe, around campus or studying in the library. She loved to be on top, to take charge, conquering me carnally, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The surest sign she was up for a roll in the hay was when she very literally let her hair down.

Her nickname was The Valkyrie, and she was aggressively assertive everywhere. She took the lead in most projects, asked me out first, and insisted upon being in the thick of discussions and debates in seminars and the three or four organizations she belonged to on campus, and two others off. She used words cleverly, like rapiers instead of bludgeons, and I suspected she was twice as eloquent in her native German. When we were alone, she relaxed that inclination slightly at first, grudgingly and then tacitly admitting that we might, in fact, be equals.

One night early on, lying naked in bed beside me, a week before I learned her full name, she whispered to me. “Bist du so geil wie ich?”

I knew it was German, but languages were never my thing. “What does that mean, Hilda?”

She rolled onto her side to face me and flashed me a very lustful grin. “I asked if you’re as horny as I am…'”

I answered Jawohl enthusiastically, and she laughed. “I think you are, Cody.” She retained a little bit of her native accent. ‘Think’ sounded a bit like ‘sink’ and my name sounded like the name of a king on her lips, very mighty and proud.

She put her arms around me and spoke again. “Liebe dich Muschilecken?” Her breath was hot, filled with erotic promise, the words alien but undoubtedly as sexy as they sounded.

“Nein, no fucking idea, Hilda!”

She leaned in and kissed me languidly, letting her tongue dance in and out between my lips, her hands roaming over my back and ass, then lay on her back again, throwing the covers off both of us before answering. Her bald pussy was at that moment the sexiest I had ever seen, unmarred by a single curl of hair, and that night it glistened, still wet from my earlier fingering her to a shuddering climax, just before she jacked me to a matching one. As I watched, she spread her legs in the international symbol for welcome to my pussy.

“Mein Schatz, I asked, ‘Do you love eating pussy?'” It was very clear she knew, or anticipated, my answer, even without having asked me or offered it before.

I moved down and put my face over her shaved twat, showing her how much I did love doing it, eager to demonstrate for her another lesson I’d learned from Liv, not to ever skimp on eating your girl’s pussy. She was so wet and ready, and I wasn’t surprised her pussy and juices tasted different from Liv’s and Sheila’s. Hers were less delicate, bolder in flavor, nothing I could pin down exactly, but it was a wonderful taste regardless. Hilda was soon caressing my face, and I could tell she wanted to push my mouth into her twat. She showed a great deal of self-control, not mashing her cunt against me.

“Stop, Cody…” I started to pull back, wondering why the hell she didn’t want me to continue, but now she gripped my hair. “No, liebchen… Rameln…” She immediately realized I had no idea what she was saying, and translated. “Hold your face there, meine sweetheart, your tongue… Let me hump your face…” I moved my face closer again and stayed there, holding my head as motionless as I could for her.

Hilda started rocking her hips against my face, the bare, slick pussy lips traveling from my chin to my nose, my tongue protruding and playing along every inch of skin there. She moaned with every pass of her clit and labia against my tongue, picking up speed, and came quickly, spurts of her juices dribbling out and drenching me further. “Gott, ach, Gott, sehr gut! Sehr gut…” I knew enough German to know she was very satisfied with my efforts.

When I finished getting her to another three or four screaming climaxes, Hilda grabbed me, held me to her, just hugging me for a long while, her heart thundering against my chest, her gasps fading to sated moans. “Thank you, Cody…” Her orgasms weren’t so much announced as punctuated by low grunting moans. We fell blissfully asleep long after midnight. From that night on, I was hers.

Hilda wasn’t as wild or experimental as Sheila, and before her Liv, had been. One European practice she loved was for my cock to stay inside her after I came, particularly when she was on top. She told me she the feeling and the closeness of it delighted her, also the sensation when I finally let my cock drag out of her, soaked in both our juices, still warm from being inside her.

Like most guys, she loved receiving oral sex better than giving it. She gave me several blow jobs, and was very…workmanlike was the only word I could think to describe it. Hilda would gamely start sucking my cock slowly, and stop every third or fourth time I was in her mouth to run her tongue around my glans, or along the length of my shaft. It felt great, and was utterly predictable.

She didn’t let me cum in her mouth or even on her face, aiming me instead for her ample tits or her cupped hands. Hilda also never knelt in front of me, which made sense; she likely considered it a subservient pose, and only sucked my cock while we were both lying in bad, or in my car, leaning over to take me into her mouth. She wouldn’t explain any of these unspoken rules, and I gave up asking about it after the third time, content to let her do it her way.

For her part, she was very vocal every time I went down on her, or came inside her hot, smooth twat, loving to tell me how much she appreciated and loved my efforts. Not me, just what I was doing for and with her.

Love wasn’t a part of our relationship, just fondness and closeness and a love for fucking, and as roommates in between classes and study groups, and on weekends. Hilda and I were comfortable, but it was clear that neither of us was looking for love just then, and that was okay with me.

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

We graduated with our bachelor’s degrees in June, planning to spend a sun- and cum-soaked week in Pismo Beach, staying at a local hotel just a block from the sandy beaches. When I suggested we take a picnic lunch to the local nude beach Hilda demurred, explaining with the only shy smile I ever saw on her lips that she had decided she was only going to be naked for me. That proviso made my heart sing, even though a part of me still wanted to show Hilda off. She thanked me with several days and nights of very passionate sex.

That December, Hilda told me very matter-of-factly that she would soon be on her way home to Dusseldorf, taking a position with her father’s manufacturing firm, an internship while she completed her advanced degree, a Magister in inorganic chemistry. Once that was done, she would assume a position as a Junior Vice President of the company, and begin ascending the ladder to success at the company.

We made love daily for the last week of her stay in the States, and most of the time she reveled in having me on top, but of course not all the time. For the first and only time ever while sucking my cock, she let me cum in her mouth, taking the whole load, dribbles of it escaping down her chin and onto the sheets. She looked a little apologetic when she spit it out into a towel, then rinsed her mouth, and snuggled in close for the rest of the night.

Our parting sexual gymnastics were less frenzied and more relaxed than Sheila and I had partaken in when she left for Radcliffe, but no less poignant. The subject of love never came up, but I think Hilda came close to saying something when she kissed me a fond goodbye at the airport before boarding her flight home.

Three gorgeous women, all three great in bed, all three leaving me to get on with their lives, and did I mention all three were phenomenal in bed? I definitely have a type.

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

Three years after first meeting and bedding Hilda, and ten months after the last time we had been together, I was solitary and committed to my career. Time enough for pussy later, I told myself, not entirely subscribing to that notion, but living with it nonetheless. For the four months after earning my Masters, I’d been working in Concord as an accounting assistant, way below my capacity, reaching out with letters of introduction and résumés almost nightly, and waiting for someone to reach back. Everything that didn’t pay rent, utilities and food, with a little bit of gas for my AMC Gremlin, was spent on that outreach, high quality paper and envelopes, postage, and many, many cover letters. There was no time or money for dating, and very little for going out with friends on the weekend.

At first, my search had started locally, then expanded to the Bay Area, Napa down to Milpitas, with only a few dregs of interest, and four or five really solid interviews that eventually went nowhere. Student Placement wasn’t a lot of help either; that was how I’d found my current job. Eventually, I started really looking at firms in Los Angeles, then New York, Atlanta, St. Louis, and points in between. I wasn’t quite desperate, but my search broadened considerably after the summer.

One early October evening, I collected my mail from the small receptacle downstairs. One envelope stood out, a stark pearly white that seemed to actively repel the dirt and grit from the postal service machines, practically gleaming its Importance and inviolability. After reading the rest of my mail, mostly bills and ads, I carefully slit the envelope and opened it. The letterhead wasn’t familiar to me, but at that point I wasn’t sure I could name one-tenth of the firms I’d sent letters to in my search.

It was from the stock analytics firm of Poche, Lufrano and Edgar. They were interested, and would foot the bill to fly me out to O’Hare International, put me up for two nights, and interview me for the position they had open. They didn’t mention pay, but at least it would be a foot in the door, and a way to establish my experience at something other than billing and filing.

My flight landed the following Wednesday afternoon, and there was an early light spray of snow on the ground as I disembarked. Someone who could only be an intern helped me get my only bag into her car, which I noted was another AMC, this time a Pacer, painted in an after-market bilious green, somehow neatly matching her eyeshadow. The trip to the hotel was a matter of twenty-five minutes, which we filled with the obligatory and lame conversation of two completely disinterested strangers.

At the hotel, I unpacked, and lay down on the bed for a nap.

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

Thursday morning it was still chilly, and I was glad my dad had insisted on my packing an overcoat. It stayed dry in the morning, but dark clouds threatened in the distance, and it was colder than anywhere in California was right now, except maybe Truckee and Tahoe.

PL&E took the whole seventeenth floor, and I knew the view was reserved for the higher-ups, something I would have to earn. The receptionist, Patty, had me sit and wait for Personnel. That took five minutes, and I was glad I’d arrived early.

The woman from Personnel introduced herself as Annette, and led me back to the department to make sure I had my résumé (three copies on a blue linen paper for impact), and sat me in her office before talking. She was maybe thirty-five, her hair drawn back severely, her skin the unhealthy pallor of an office drone, makeup carefully chosen to look as sterile as her office. She peered at me, tilting horn-rimmed spectacles, bifocals, down her nose to make her point.

Her voice was as stark as the office we were seated in. “You’ll be meeting with Ms. Lufrano, one of our partners. Her division needs someone who can keep up with the demands she sets for everyone. Assuming she approves, you’ll be working for her the next couple of years until you qualify for a promotion.” Two years would be a long time coming, if she was as stern as I was beginning to suspect, but ultimately worth it.

“Thank you, Annette. Anything I should know about her?”

Annette frowned, and started ticking off points on her fingers. “One, sit up straight, don’t be at all relaxed. Ms. Lufrano doesn’t like people to get too comfortable at work. Two, be polite. Three, don’t joke with her; she doesn’t like people to take work too lightly. And, four,” she folded down her pinkie, “don’t ever use her first name. She is very formal, and don’t let her attractiveness fool you. She is all business. Do not take any liberties.” The words attractiveness and liberties were pronounced with evident distaste, not for Ms. Lufrano, but apparently at any sort of levity or joy.

I wondered what the Hell I was getting into, but this was one of the premier firms in my area of close-to-expertise, and I would stick it out, if I qualified, and survived. Ms. Lufrano, I reflected privately, probably just needs to get laid. Of course, I couldn’t say that, never would, and wondered whether she was even married to someone other than the firm.

Annette handed my résumé copies back to me, and pointed me toward the proper door. It said “O. Lufrano, Partner” and in smaller block letters beneath, “VP Analytics”. Thanking Annette for what little guidance she had been able to spare, I knocked, and heard a muffled “Come in.” I turned the handle and stepped through the door, shutting it quietly behind me, and stood, waiting to be invited to sit. The woman behind the desk was faced away from me, looking out the huge window over an impressive view of Lake Michigan. Without turning, she motioned me to a seat, finished her phone call and hung up. I set my résumé on the desk, dead center, hopefully speaking to my own professionalism.

I expected to see a tough, even brittle, mature woman with iron grey hair, an executive, a no-nonsense type who I would be lucky to work for. Her chair swiveled and her face came into view. My breath caught in my throat.

She stared for a moment, just gazing at me in astonishment, barely registering the paper I’d set in front of her. After a moment, she glanced at the top of the résumé, seemingly verifying the evidence of her own eyes, before she spoke. She was lovely, with olive skin, slightly less tanned, which made sense in the cooler climes of Chicago, and the fact it was autumn. Her brown eyes were the perfect shade of come hither, her lips as soft and kissable as ever. The long, dark hair I’d seen stretch down to her waist was still black as coal, drawn up into a bun, thick and lush, and my thoughts immediately went to the other thick and lush hair hidden by her pantsuit…

“Fuck… Cody…”

“Liv…”

I rose from my chair at the same time she rose from hers, though I wasn’t sure what to expect. It had been more than five years, with a gulf of experience between us. I thought she might hug me, or give me a kiss on the cheek, very professional and proper, never acknowledging our past torrid relationship. It occurred to me that our relationship might end any possibility of working here, very abruptly.

I needn’t have worried.

Liv threw herself into my arms, crushing me to her, and I did the same. Our mouths found each other and opened our mouths, our tongues reacquainting themselves instantly. Suddenly it was five years ago again, a hot California summer with the Hottest Mom against me once more. It took a long while for our accumulated passion to subside, before she stepped away reluctantly, and smoothed the jacket of her pantsuit, before sitting back down behind her desk. I saw she was shaking, panting, hoped it was for the same reason I was, sheer desire.

“Ms. Lufrano…” I began, and she smiled, like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“You’ve seen me all nekkid in the shower, Cody. You can use my first name…”

I chuckled. “I’ve missed you, Liv. So much… Lufrano?”

“Maiden name. Didn’t want to have clients ask if I was connected to that Maximilian Nichols at our competitor.” Then she grinned hungrily. “You didn’t miss me too much, I hear!” Her smile was warm and inviting, and I imagined I saw a deep need in it. “Sheila, then that German girl? Don’t look at me like that, your mom liked both of them, and we still talk. She didn’t have any details, but I could easily figure out the rest myself. From experience.”

“You didn’t know I was your next interview?” I ignored my awakening cock, which now strained and rubbed against the crotch of my woolen three-piece suit, and I almost dared not move. All that occurred to me was whether her office locked, and how quiet we could be if she had me take her on her desk. In moments, she was, in my mind, on her back, naked from the waist down, her jacket and blouse open for me to suck on her delicious nipples while I pounded her delicious, waiting pussy…

Olivia, seemingly unaware of my mental torment, shook her head ruefully, still apparently shocked I was sitting in front of her. “Human Resources handles all of those, and passes on only the ones who meet their standards. I don’t even touch a résumé until I’m about to see the candidate.”

“So this was…”

“A complete surprise.” She was clearly as happy to see me as I was to see her.

“So, do you want to interview me?”

“In a moment.” She started reading, nodding her head at a couple of points. “Very good quals, glad you have your Masters. You’re hired.”

The interview seemed to be over very quickly. “But what about…”

“Remember, Cody, I know your work ethic. Not just your grades, but your honesty and how well you commit yourself to getting the job done.”

“But what about…” I couldn’t believe my good fortune at getting the job, but I also felt like I had missed the whole interview.

Olivia fished a packet out of her desk, all business. “Read up on the benefits, and let Annette know if you have any questions. I already know your salary and job duties, and I need someone I can trust to do the job right the first time, and to ask questions when you need to.”

“That fast, Liv?”

“Just that fast, Cody. And, around the office, it’s Ms. Lufrano. I don’t want anyone to think I’m playing favorites with the hot young grad.” She handed me the packet, a thick blue folder stuffed with personnel documents, ornamented with the embossed name of her firm on the front. “Are you staying in town?”

“Yes.” I gave her the name of my hotel. “It has a view of Lake Michigan, too. The second most lovely water I’ve ever seen…”

She blushed. “I’ve seen some sights, too.” She handed me a tissue. “You should clean my lipstick off of your face and mouth, Cody. Don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.” She drew a makeup bag out of her desk, and touched up her lipstick and eyes.

“Yes, Ms. Lufrano.” She smiled shyly at that, and I thought she would have loved for me to call her Liv again.

When she opened the door and took me to the elevators at the front of the office, I didn’t quite stumble or walk into anything. She gave me a very chaste, very professional handshake, which lingered an instant or two longer than might have been proper.

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

Late Thursday afternoon I extended my flight to Sunday, and sat down to go over all the paperwork. Mom and Dad had been very pleased, and proud, that I had been hired. I told them that Olivia–Ms. Lufrano, I tried to think of her that way–said I would have an offer letter by Friday afternoon, and I would probably be starting very soon. They were surprised to hear it was their old neighbor, but my father told me it was just serendipity. When I went to extend my hotel stay, I found out the firm had already given me two more nights at their expense.

After lunch and a little bit of sightseeing, I headed back to my room, kicked off my shoes and settled back to read all the paperwork. Boring, tedious and absolutely mandatory; my father worked on contracts, among other things, and told me never to sign documents without reading and understanding every word. “If you get stuck in the ass by a contract you didn’t read, it’s your fault, nobody else’s.” I took his words to heart, and read for nearly three hours before calling room service.

Fifteen minutes later a genteel knock told me my dinner had arrived early, and I was nearly done with the papers. Friday I could do more sightseeing, and maybe scout some decent apartments within what I assumed would be my new price range. I straightened the stack, then opened the door, and there she was.

“Cody…” She wore, not surprisingly, exactly what she’d interviewed me in that morning. She had an elegant leather briefcase in her left hand, and it was quarter-past five, so she had come straight over to my hotel room. “May I come in?” Her eyes were smoldering, and I suspected she would have come to my door naked if we were anywhere else.

“Certainly, Ms. Lufrano.” I opened the door wider to let her in, and shut it after her. I turned and looked at her, my heart thudding in my chest, my breath almost shuddering.

She turned and put her briefcase by the door, but made no other move towards me. “Cody… We need to talk.” Stepping away from me, she took a chair at the small table, opposite the only other chair, and I realized it was purposeful, a barrier between us. Then I noticed one small detail I hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t cared to, and my heart sank.

I took the other seat, and put both of my hands, folded, on the table in front of me. More than anything I wanted to take her in my arms and renew our passionate affair of…five years ago? Has it really been that long? Liv–Ms. Lufrano, I thought with deep disappointment–looked steadily at me, betraying no sign of any of our feelings from before, or this morning’s passionate kiss. She waited for me to get settled, but more than anything I wanted the bad news over with.

“I’m ready, Ms. Lufrano.” I hoped I sounded professional too, and that none of my desire to see and touch her glorious naked body was showing.

“Cody…I have missed you so much, but we haven’t seen each other in forever, and I wanted to tell you…things have changed.” She drew a shaky breath, steadying herself. “I’ve been…dating for the last few years. I’ve always treasured our time together, and you set a high bar for anyone else. Very high bar.

“Men really want me, especially with my income. A lot of them just want to bed a high-powered finance gal, for the bragging rights as much as the roll in the hay.” Olivia’s eyes had a faraway look, and I knew she was also remembering our last night together.

“How many…guys, Olivia?” I saw a shadow of hurt cross her features when I didn’t call her ‘Liv’ this time, but I couldn’t say it without feeling a sense of loss. It was better that we grieve our long lost relationship together.