FLOWER CARDS BY SHEILA

The Neighbor

 

Book One of The Sheila Trilogy

 

Joel Thomas Hedgpeth

 

CHAPTER 7

 

The following evening Jason's cell phone rang and having entered Sheila's number in the list of contacts, he could see that it was she calling. Oh boy! Now what? What should I say? Should I say anything or pretend that I haven't seen anything? Shit!

"Hi, Sheila," he answered. "How's everything? Haven't seen you for a while."

"Oh, hi, Jason. No, I thought I better give you a break after all the work you did over here the other day. I do have another favor, though. I was wondering if you could come over one day this weekend to do a few things for me again in the backyard."

What should I say? It'll be awkward being with her knowing what I know now. But then, why not? I don't have to say anything unless it feels right.

"Sure. I'll be glad to. Sunday's probably best for me again if that's OK."

"Anytime that's good for you, Jason. Sunday will work for me. Could you come around noon? I'll have some lunch ready for you."

"You bet. I remember that Brazilian sandwich you made last time. I really liked that. Hot mixture, or something like that, you called it."

"Mista quente. Hot mixed. You have a good memory, Jason. That's great. I'll see you Sunday, then. And thanks."

 

***

 

Sunday at noon, Jason trudged up the front stairs of Sheila's house, thinking about the others he had watched making the same climb, only he was doing it in daylight. Who were they, and how did they happen to be coming here for their strange meetings with Sheila?

He rang the doorbell and soon could hear Sheila's footsteps approaching. Suppose she'll be wearing her black corset and tall boots?

The door opened and Sheila greeted Jason, wearing a different pair of colorful leggings and color-coordinated cotton blouse that hugged her torso tightly enough to accentuate her breasts. "Hi, Jason. Come in"

"Hi, Sheila. Looks like you just had another Pilates class. I like those pants, or leggings, or whatever you call them."

"Leggings is right. I have lots of different ones. I bought some of them in Brazil when I'm there, and have friends that live there send me some when I decide to expand my wardrobe. They're well-made and much cheaper than you could buy them here...if you could even find them. Come in. I have lunch ready."

Jason followed Sheila into the kitchen and then onto the patio outside where he saw that Sheila had set the little table, tablecloth and all. "Sit down," Sheila said. "I'll be right back with lunch." In a few minutes she returned carrying a tray with two plates, each with a sandwich and some potato chips, two glasses and a can of soda.

"The sandwiches look familiar," Jason said. "What kind of soda is that?"

"That's called Guarana. It's a popular soda in Brazil, made from the Guarana fruit that grows in the Amazon. Has lots of caffeine in it. You'll see it in the list of ingredients in a lot of energy drinks. Try it."

She poured some in Jason's glass and he took a sip. "That's different," he said. "I like it. Sweet, fruity and fizzy." Where do you buy it? I don't recall ever seeing it in the stores."

"I can only find it in a Brazilian market, or sometimes the Mexican markets carry it. You likely don't shop in those places often."

"True. Not here, nor in North Carolina. I like it, though. And maybe the caffeine will give me energy so I can do the work that you want done and have some energy left for hanging out with my buddies tonight."

"Oh, Jason. Please don't overdue. Nothing's so important that it has to be done today. I don't want to spoil your evening with the boys."

"I'll be OK. I'm just glad to be able to help you out. And, by the way, this sandwich is just as good as the last one you made for me. This is a real Brazilian lunch...except for the chips. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Sheila replied.

There was a pause in their conversation as they both worked on downing their lunches.

Jason's mind was in turmoil, though. Should I say something? I'm dying to know what goes on here at night. But, then she'll know I'm spying on her. On the other hand, I can't help but see those cars drive up to her house when I'm working at my desk. Is it being nosy to see what I see and want to know more? I don't have to say that I saw anything in the bedroom. Go on. Just ask and see where it leads.

"Say, Sheila. I couldn't help but notice several times the past few weeks that you had visitors late in the evening. They didn't stay long, maybe an hour or so. I know it's none of my business, but it just seemed a little strange at that time of night. Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I have no right to pry into your private life. Pretend that I didn't say anything, which I wish I hadn't."

"No, that's alright, Jason. I don't wonder that you think it strange that I have visitors like that. I don't mind telling you what it's all about. It's all perfectly legal, if that's what your concern was."

"Oh, Sheila. That never even crossed my mind."

"I'm glad. These folks are my clients. I have a degree in psychology and these people come for counseling. Sime of it is marriage counseling and some is for other...shall we say...hang-ups?"

"That makes sense," Jason said. "I knew there would be a logical explanation. Now I'm really sorry I brought it up." Counseling, my foot. What kind of counseling is leading someone around by a leash and giving them a red ass? And what kind of counselor dresses like that? Give me a break, Sheila.

"It's perfectly OK. Don't even think about it. Now that I've answered your question, let's get you to work. Come. I'll show you what I'd like you to do."

They walked to the rear off Sheila's back yard where she pointed out a few small plots. "I'd like you to turn the dirt over in these areas and mix some planting mix with it. That sack over there is the planting mix. Just a little in each area and mix in to the soil. I watered the area well last night so it should be easier to dig. Then tomorrow I can plant the new plants I just bought. Coral Bells and Cosmos and a couple other kinds of flowers that I use in my cards. Also a rosemary plant. I use that in my cooking.

"I'll leave some ice water on the table where we just ate. It's another hot one, isn't it?" she said.

"Just about as hot as the last time I was here, I think. This time I'll shed this shirt before I get started digging, if you don't mind."

'Why would I mind, Jason? In fact, I rather enjoy the sight of your muscular body, glistening with sweat. As you recall, I got to feel all those muscles last time."

"Yes, I definitely recall that. I also recall I rather enjoyed it."

"Even the part when I pinched your nipples? You didn't act like you were enjoying that part."

"Well, at the time I was taken aback. I sure wasn't expecting that. When I thought about it later it was OK. Otherwise I might not have come over today to help out."

"Enough talk now, Jason. You get to work here and I'll go inside and get to work on my flower cards. I'll come out when you're finished and we can have a snack and something else cold to drink. And we can talk some more. OK?"

"Sure," Jason said. "Let's get to work."

Jason got some tools from the tool shed and walked to where Sheila had indicated. She watched as he strode to the back of her yard. She waited until he removed his shirt and started digging.

What a hunk he is, she thought to herself. I've got to get my hands on those muscles like I did last time. Maybe play with the nipples again. See what reaction that gets this time. And, wouldn't I like to know what the rest of him looks like? If the rest of his "bod" matches his upper body, he's a dream come true. Hummm. I need to get him to strip. How'll I do that without scaring him off?

It was about 3:30 that afternoon when Sheila took a break from her flower card-making and looked in the back yard to see how Jason was doing. She could see that the beds she wanted prepared for planting seemed to be ready and Jason was gathering up the tools he had used. As he was putting them back in the tool shed, Sheila grabbed some snacks and some more cold Guarana to take outside to him.

"All done, Jason?" she said as they met on the patio. Looking at his muscular, shirtless, sweat-covered torso, she added, "Looks like you could use something cold. I hope you don't mind some more of this Brazilian drink."

"Gosh, no, Sheila. I really liked it. And right now, I'd like anything, as long as it was wet and cold."

They sat at the patio table and Sheila slid a tray of assorted crackers to him. "Have some of these, Jason. Replenish some of the calories you just burned off out here in the sun. Don't want you to lose any weight from those beautiful muscles you work so hard to get. I can't take my eyes off your body. I hope you don't mind. It's just that other than in pictures, I've never seen such a fine specimen of maleness.

Sheila stood and walked toward Jason. "I hope you don't mind my feeling those muscles again, Flex them for me, like you did last time."

"Now, Sheila," Jason said. "You're embarrassing me again. It's nothing special. The gym's full of guys with muscles like this."

"But they're not here. Right in front of me. Close enough for me to touch. And you're right here," she said as she ran her hands over his shoulders and along his arms.

"And I'm all sweaty. That must feel gross."

"No, On the contrary. A sweaty body is actually sexy. I think, anyway. Especially when it's built like yours. Now flex those biceps."

He did, and she squeezed the rock-hard masses, evoking a gasp. "They're massive, and so hard...like little boulders. And my hand doesn't even go half way around them. Now, flex your...what do you call them...pecs, is it?

"You mean the chest muscles? Like this?" He grasped his hands together and pulled outwardly with his arms, tightening and swelling his "pecs".

"Oh yes. That's it." She gently rubbed her hands over each side of his chest, probing and feeling the muscles that lay beneath the skin, thinking, Do I dare play with his nipples now? I'm sure he remembers how I twisted them last time. He isn't acting nervous about what I'm doing. Maybe he really enjoys this attention. Ah, I know.

Sitting down again, Sheila said, "You know, Jason, I have a confession to make to you."

"Really?" he asked, quizzically. "What could you have to confess to me about?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly honest with you earlier when we were talking."

"Oh, I suppose you're going to tell me that you're actually going to plant marijuana where I was digging, not coral bells."

"No, it has nothing to do with my garden. It's about the visitors that you've seen coming and going. They are my clients, but it's not exactly counseling that they come for. True, they may have some mental issues or what some...no many...would consider weird ideas in their mind, but I don't know if counseling is the right term.

"These folks are all submissives and they come to see me so they can act out their submissiveness with me. They pay me, and pay me well, to humiliate them, hurt them, subdue them, and generally control them. That's what they really crave. Someone to control them. While it's not just a sexual thing, it usually directly affects their lives. But understand, Jason. They don't come to me for sex. That would be illegal, and I don't intend to become a criminal.

"There, I said it. Now I feel better. Are you all weirded out now?"

"No. Not at all. But I am very curious about what you do. I guess I'm pretty naïve when it comes to these things. Maybe you can enlighten me as to what you do and how it affects the people you treat. They're mostly men, aren't they? Although I did see one gal visiting you."

"Oh, yes. That was Vicki. She started as a client, but we became good friends, so now she gets to visit, but doesn't have to pay."

Jason's first thought about that was, Friends, huh? Looked like she was paying pretty well the other night. Just not in dollars. This is all so strange. Seems like I have a lot to learn about life. "Wow! You've really caught me by surprise with this confession. Who would have thought?" Maybe me, seeing what I saw. If only I were more worldly. Maybe she can teach me about life.

"I'd like to learn more about this submission thing. I may be going through life with blinders on, but I'd 'never heard of such a thing."

"Oh, you are innocent. Would you like me to enlighten you? Teach you how the real world works. Might help you down the road with your relationship with others...especially those of the opposite sex."

"Yeh. I think I'd like that, Sheila. I can see that I have a lot to learn, given my limited experience. I'm all ears. I don't have a lot of time right now though. I'm meeting some of the guys for dinner and some brewskis."

"Well, I won't keep you long, but I can get started with some of the basics, if that's OK with you. But you'll have to trust me, alright?" she asked Jason.

"Sure I trust you, Sheila. Even if I didn't, I think I could ward off any harm. I am quite a bit taller than you and outweigh you by probably 90 pounds."

"True enough. Now you just wait out here for one minute while I get a couple things from inside."

Jason stayed at the patio table while Sheila went into the house. Shortly she came back out carrying a couple of things in her hands, which she kept behind her back so Jason couldn't see them. She set them down across the patio and turned to Jason.

"OK, Jason, come over and stand next to me." When he was there, she said, "You were sure right. You tower over me, and look at all those muscles. Make me look puny. Now let's see about that trust you have in me. Put your hands behind your back." He did, and she stepped around behind him, picking up something off a counter. "You won't mind, then, if I slip these on your wrists," she said, fastening a pair of handcuffs onto him.

"What's that, Sheila? What are you doing?"

"Just keep trusting me, Jason. You'll see." She started running her hands along his body again. Arms. Shoulders. Chest. Abs. "Oh, how I love to feel these muscles. I'd have you flex those biceps again, but I guess you can't do it now, can you?"

"No I can't. But I will say it feels awfully good you running your hands over my body."

"I'm glad you enjoy it too. Now let's try something else." She reached over to the shelf again and picked up the glass she had brought out. She reached in and pulled out an ice cube. "See this, Jason? Know what I'm going to do with it? No, of course you don't, because you've never done any kinky stuff."

Standing right in front of him, she rubbed the ice cube around the edge of his left nipple. "Oooh, that's cold," he gasped. She continued for a few more seconds, the ice water dripping down his torso from his chest and over his abs. Then she moved the ice to his other nipple, repeating the same thing. Discarding the nearly melted cube, Sheila grabbed two fresh ones from the glass. With one in each hand she held a cube to the tip of each nipple. "Oooh, that's double cold. Hurts a little bit."

"Yes, I imagine it does," she said, looking down at the crotch of his jeans. "I also imagine that the bulge I'm starting to see in your pants has something to do with that little bit of hurt."

Blushing from embarrassment, he replied, "I don't know about that. Don't know why that's happening. There's nothing sexy about the ice."

"Oh, don't be too sure about that. First of all, look at your nipples now. You can't touch them, but I can assure you that they're as hard as rocks now. Like two little pebbles. That's what cold does to them. Makes them extra sensitive, and that sends nerve impulses to the same part of your brain that your penis gets its messages from.

"Now, let me show you something else." Tossing away the ice she reached down and un-buttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper.

"Wait. What are you doing, Sheila?"

"Hush. Remember the trust thing. You'll come out of this alright and still get to have dinner with your buddies."

As she started lowering the jeans she said, "Oh my, something's making this job difficult. The ice really did affect you down here." When she finally lowered the jeans past the semi-erect penis, she tugged them the rest of the way to rest on the tops of his shoes. The striped boxers he was wearing did little to hide the bulge coming from beneath them.

"Now I'm really embarrassed, Sheila."

"You needn't be. I'm a grown woman, had two kids, a husband and more than a few lovers, so seeing your package ain't anything new. Although it looks like it might be better endowed than most."

Reaching up to his chest again, she played with his nipples, first flicking them lightly with the tips of her fingernails, then lightly with her fingertips, and finally squeezing and twisting them as hard as she could. As Jason shrieked out loud from the pain, Sheila noticed the tent that his ever-growing erection was making.

"Now what was it you were saying about how you could protect yourself from the likes of me? Little old me? A pair of handcuffs and pulling your pants down around your ankles pretty much nullifies all those hours at the gym, wouldn't you say?"

"You got that right," was all he could say.

"Now, just one more thing to show you before you leave. Just shuffle the best you can a few feet back." She led him by the handcuffs until he was standing under an iron ring that hung by a chain from the patio cover. It looked like a plant once hung from it. "That's it. Right here. Just stand still a moment." She walked into the yard and went into the tool shed. When she returned to where Jason was standing she carried a rope.

"What's that for?" Jason asked.

"You'll see in one minute." She pulled over a small step stool and placed it behind Jason's back. Climbing up two steps she ran one end of the rope through the iron ring. Next she tied one end to the chain that linked the handcuffs together. Taking the other end of the rope, she pulled it to the wall of the house where there was a hook. She started pulling the rope, which lifted Jason's arms upward, causing him to bend forward at the waist. When she thought his arms were about as high as they could go without doing damage to his shoulders, she tied the rope off at the hook.

"Hey!" Jason yelled, with some panic in his voice. "Stop pulling. This hurts."

"Oh, don't be a baby. A big, strapping man like you. How could I be hurting you? Actually, I guess in any number of ways, given your situation now. Let me show you one of them." Sheila kneeled behind him, reached around to his front and pulled his briefs down, maneuvering it over his now very strong, upward pointing-erection, until they were resting on his jeans. She caressed his buttocks, feeling the muscles that had developed there as well as in the rest of his body.

"That's not hurting. It feels pretty good, actually. It is pretty embarrassing though."

"Aw, Jason. Don't be embarrassed. I've seen a few butts in my day, but none as good looking as yours. About the hurting, now. I've just begun dealing with these great gluts." With that, she started spanking them with her open hand. Lightly at first, then increasing until she was hitting as hard as she was able. His white skin was turning a nice pink.

"Ow! OK, I take it back. It's hurting now. You've made your point. Let's end this demonstration now."

"Not quite yet, young man," Sheila said, sternly. Let's do ten more on each side and then I'll go inside to get something."

"Something better be a beer. I need one after all this. Owww. Not so hard. It already burns."

"...eight, nine, and ten. There. What a nice rosy color your buns are. Now you just stay here like that for a minute while I go inside."

"I promise I won't move. Don't worry."

Sheila came back outside carrying a leather paddle. Jason had his back to the house, so he couldn't see it. She came up behind him and gently massaged his burning buttocks for a minute and then started thrashing them with the paddle.

"Eeeoww! Shit, you're killing me. Ouch!" he screamed.

"Hush, Jason. The neighbors'll call the police. Just take it like a man. After all, it's just little old me doing this." After several more strokes, Sheila moved around so she could see his front side while continuing the assault on his back side. "Well, look at this. Part of you seems to be enjoying your pain. I think that beautiful cock of yours is bigger and harder than ever. Now maybe you can understand the connection with pain and a sexual response. Agreed?"

"Yeh, I guess so. I wouldn't have guessed. Now can you untie me? I really have to get going."

"Of course. I think I've enlightened you enough for starters. I think you understand now why some people...men and women both...are naturally submissive, and crave taking that role in a relationship." As she was talking, Sheila had been untying and un-cuffing Jason's wrists. When they were freed He shook his arms and rubbed his shoulders, and then pulled up his briefs and jeans. Grabbing his shirt he headed inside the house.

"I hope you're not upset with me, Jason," Sheila said as she followed him toward the front door.

"No I'm not. Not at all. I'm just a little bit in shock. I didn't expect all of this when I came over. But it was certainly a learning experience. I'll let it sink in before I decide if it was good or bad. You were right, though. It certainly got me aroused, as you pointed out. That part was good. Now I really have to run or I'll be late meeting my friends. Thanks for the lunch and the Guarana, and even the ice cubes."

"You're welcome. I hope you'll still come over to visit...and maybe give me a hand with some chores again."

"You can count on it, Sheila!"

She watched as Jason crossed the street, occasionally rubbing his posterior, and entered his house.

Now I have time to have some dinner and work on my flower cards before my client arrives.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

The three young men followed the shapely hostess to their table toward the rear of the Hooligan's Micro Brewery. As they sat, Fred, at 31 the oldest of the three, said, "Did you see the ass on that babe?"

Ian replied, "Duh! You think we're blind?"

"Nah! I just thought that since you're both so hooked on your girl friends that you wouldn't notice such things."

"Well, at least we have girlfriends," Jack said. "How many gals did you say have dumped you, Fred?"

Just then a cell phone chimed and all three quickly looked at their phones.

"It's Jason," Fred said, reading a text message. "He's running a little behind. Be here in ten."

"Oh, good," Ian said. "I was afraid he'd forgotten."

The waitress appeared and, after announcing that her name was Francine and that she would be their server, asked if they were ready to order. Fred took charge and ordered a pitcher of the house specialty, Hooligan's Pale Ale. "And four mugs. Our friend will be joining us soon," he added.

Jack, returning to the prior conversation, asked, "So, Fred, how is your love life these days. You have a new flavor of the month?"

"Very funny, Jack," Fred answered. "If you must know, I do have a new flavor. And she's mighty delicious, too. Best part is she can't keep her hands off me. Wears me out sometimes."

"Oh oh. Here we go again. If you get so worn out that easily maybe you should spend some time at the gym and get in better shape. Seems like all your girl friends are all over you and then they bail out. Something wrong with that picture."

"Nah," Fred said. "I just get tired of their always wanting sex, so I start ignoring them for a while and they get the idea and leave. I figure that's kinder than simply telling them I'm not interested and they should take a hike. Am I right?"

Before anyone could answer, Jason appeared. "Hi, guys. Sorry I'm late. Had a busy afternoon and lost track of time."

Fred, who along with Ian, worked for the same company as Jason, asked, "busy doing company work today, Jason?"

Jason grabbed a mug and filled it from the pitcher before answering. "No, not today. I have a neighbor whom I met a couple of months ago, that had asked me to give her some help in her garden. So, being the good neighbor that I am, that's where I spent my afternoon, slaving away in the hot sun."

"Doesn't the man of the house do that kind of stuff," Ian asked.

"There is no man in her house. She's divorced and her kids are grown and out of the house on their own. So she has nobody at home to help her with the heavy jobs."

Fred commented, "So, you spent the day alone with this single, lonely lady. Is she a looker? No wonder you were late."

"God sakes, Fred. She's old enough to be my mother."

Jack chimed in. "Oh, so you've got a MILF for yourself."

Jason, looking puzzled, asked, "What the hell's a MILF?"

Ian said, "Yeh. That's a good question. I see that expression a lot in porno sites. What is a MILF?"

Jack answered, "God, you guys are so innocent. Don't tell me you don't watch porn. Anyway, MILF stands for mother I'd like to fuck. You know, an older woman, like Jason's new lady friend."

Fred topped off everyone's mug from the pitcher of ale and then held up the empty pitcher so the waitress would know that they needed another one. When she brought it they all ordered something to eat. Fred and Jason had fish and chips. Ian and Jack, the younger of the group, ordered hamburgers with fries.

Fred said, "Just so you guys know, I'm not so innocent, I guess, because I knew what MILF stood for. Now, Jas', seriously, tell us a little about this woman whom you help with her yard work."

Jason took a couple gulps of his beer before filling his mug once again from the new pitcher. He was starting to feel a little looser from the brew and gave a description of his "lady friend". "Well, let's see. Sheila...that's her name...like I said, is a generation older than me. I'm guessing maybe fifty. For a gal her age she's pretty fit. Says she goes to a Pilates class two or three times a week. Has for many years. And it shows. She wears these skin-tight leggings to her classes which show off her legs and her butt. I love the view when I'm walking behind her. You know, the kind of ass you want to pinch...or spank." He paused to down some more beer.

"Go on. Tell us more," Jack said."

"OK. She makes flower cards. You know, it's her hobby".

"What kind of flower cards?" Ian asked.

"Well, she collects little flowers and leaves and stuff like that and glues them onto cards, like greeting cards. She dries them first and presses them in books before she glues them. They're actually really nice. She just won first prize in her division at the county fair. Oh, I forgot to tell you, she's from Brazil. Talks with an accent, but speaks really good English. She's fixed me lunch a couple of times. Some kind of Brazilian sandwich. Really good."

"So you find out all that stuff while you're slaving away in her yard?" Fred asked.

"No, she leaves me alone while I'm working. When we have lunch we talk about our lives...past and present. Today we visited a while after I finished the yard work."

"Oh, so that's why you were late," Jack said.

"Well, partly. I did kind of lose track of time. You could say I was tied up over there longer than I anticipated." Jason, by this time, had had enough alcohol that he almost blurted out what Sheila had actually done with him. He thought better of it and changed the subject. "I need some more brewski. You guys want to get another pitcher?"

The three others all shook their heads and Ian said, "No, I've had enough. Tomorrow's a work day for me." Jack and Fred both said, "Me too."

Jason said, "Well I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow until the afternoon. So I can sleep in." He raised his arm to catch Francine's eye, and when she approached he ordered a tall mug of the same beer they had been drinking. As she turned and walked away from the table he said in a whisper loud enough that she probably heard, "Nice ass on that one, eh?"

"As nice as Sheila's?" Jack said.

"Close. But it's the leggings that make Sheila's look so good. She has tons of them and they're all brightly colored with different designs and patterns."

Fred said, "Well, she sounds like a nice person. I'm sure she appreciates the help you're giving her. Probably doesn't hurt that you're a hunk. Living alone like that she'd probably like to have a piece of you."

"I think I'm a little too young for her, don't you?"

"No I don't. What red-blooded, healthy middle-aged woman wouldn't like a young stud jumping her bones? Mrs. Robinson didn't seem to mind. Is Sheila your Mrs. Robinson, Jas'?"

After a few more swallows of ale, he answered. "No, Fred. I prefer someone closer to my vintage. "He paused a moment, and then started a new topic. "Say, not to change the subject, but I've been wondering something that I bet one of you will know the answer to. Contrary to what you might have thought about me, I have been known to delve into some porn occasionally, and just like I didn't know what MILF meant, I see the expression BDSM used a lot. I kind of know the gist but I don't know exactly what the words are that it stands for."

The three other guys looked at each other with surprised looks on their faces. Jack said, "You really don't know, Jason?"

"Come on, Shack," Jason said, slurring his words aa little. "If I knew I wouldn't have ashed, would I?"

Jack answered, "No, I guess not. Anyway, BDSM stand for Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, and Sadism and Masochism. It's a mixture of the first letters of all those words."

"OK. That makes sensh. I kinda knew it was shomethin like that. How come you know all about that? You into that short a thin?"

Jack replied, "No, not really. I've read quite a lot about it. It kind of turns me on. I really haven't tried any of that stuff out. Well, not much, anyway."

"Oh, you have then. Tell ush," Jason slurred.

Jack hesitated a bit, then, blushing, continued. "Well one night I was with this girl...not the one I'm seeing now...and we'd had a little too much to drink and we were in her apartment and she wanted to tie me to the bed. At that point I wasn't thinking too clearly and told her to go ahead. See, I didn't know her that well but she was really hot and I was really horny."

Ian jumped in. "So what happened, Dude?"

"What happened was after we were both naked she tied me spread-eagled to the bed, face up, and ravished my body. Too bad I was so drunk because I didn't appreciate all she was doing. She had one talented mouth, I'll tell you."

"And?" Ian asked.

"And eventually she tired of playing with me and lowered her sex onto my face and made me lick her 'til she came. That made me so hot...you can't imagine. But then she just lay down next to me."

"And then what'd she do?"

"Nothing. She did nothing. The alcohol and her orgasm zonked her out. It was all I could do to wake her up so she could untie me. And then I went home. Still horny as hell. Actually, that was the last time I saw her. I can't say I don't have fond memories of that night, but I was afraid to see what else she had in mind. I have thought since then that maybe the BDSM might not be so bad, with the right person."

Fred asked, "So, she didn't hit you or whip you or anything like that?"

"Nah. I don't think that's necessary in BDSM. It's more about control. One person gives up control to the other person. I guess there can be whips and paddles and other stuff, but I don't think I'd like that. Unless I was doing the whipping. Maybe I'd like that if I found a girl who wanted to be whipped. Believe me, I'm not about to ask my girlfriend now if she wants a good whipping."

"I know what you mean, Jack. Listen, guys, I have to be going. I have an early call in the morning."

Ian said, "Yeh. We should all get going, I think. Let's settle up the bill...split it four ways, OK?"

Everyone agreed, except Jason who was practically asleep, his head slumped down. After Francine brought their bill they roused Jason enough to get him to pay his share, and they headed for the door. Jason stumbled a little getting up from the table.

Fred said, "You can't drive home like this, old buddy."

Jason mumbled, "Zure I ca, ca, can."

"No you can't, Jason. I'll drive you home. You can come back tomorrow to get your car. Is it parked OK to leave it?

"I dunno. I ferget ware it's at. Oh yeh. In the parking lot on the shide."

"Great. Ian, tell the manager Jason's leaving his car there overnight. Come on, Jas' let's go."

With one arm around Fred's shoulder for balance, Jason said. "Thansh, Fred. Yur a pal."

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Thanks to the alcohol with his buddies and the energy expended (physical and mental both) at his neighbor's on Sunday, Jason slept soundly until ten o'clock Monday morning. He hadn't set his alarm because he had no work commitments until early afternoon. He did realize after he was wide awake, though, that he had to retrieve his car from the micro-brewery where he had consumed all the beer. He fixed some breakfast and decided to call Uber for a ride to his car.

Before he got around to calling, he saw, from his office window, his neighbor Sheila opening her garage door. He ran to the front door in his bath robe and called to her as she was getting into her car.

"Sheila. Sheila."

Hearing his calls, Sheila came out to the sidewalk to see what was going on. "Oh, Hi, Jason. Everything OK?"

"Yeh, everything's good. But can I ask for a favor?'

"Sure. You can ask. Can't promise I can do it though."

"Well," Jason said. "If it's not too much trouble could you give me a ride to the restaurant I was at last night? It's only two or three miles from here."

"Oh, sure, Jason. No problem. I was just going out to do some shopping. How soon do you want to go?"

'I just need to throw something on. I'll be back in five minutes. I don't have to be at work until this afternoon."

"OK. I'll wait in the car." With that she backed her Volkswagen out of the garage onto the driveway, and closed the garage door.

Jason ran upstairs, threw on underwear, a pair of khaki shorts, a tee shirt and some tennis shoes. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he sprinted down the stairs and across the street. Jumping into the passenger seat, he said, "Thanks, Sheila. I really appreciate this."

"Now, where to, Jason>?"

"Hooligan's Micro-brewery. I'll show you the way."

'No need. I know just where it is. Been there myself a few times. Good beer and the food's pretty good too. How come your car's there?"

"I guess my friends thought I'd had too many beers to be driving so they insisted on bringing me home. I tried to talk them out of it, but I guess my speech and coordination didn't leave much doubt as to my condition. I think too much beer on top of my workout in your yard did me in."

Placing her right hand on Jason's bare knee, Sheila said, "Oh, Jason. I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask you to do my hard yard work like that. Especially on these hot days. No wonder you were zonked out." Her hand slowly drifted further up his thigh. "Or do you think it was what I was doing after you finished the work? That was wrong of me to subject you to that."

Jason hardly heard what Sheila had been saying, his mind concentrating on where her hand was going. "Uh, what? Oh, about yesterday. No, that was no problem. I mean the work wasn't too much. Uh, uh, and after. Well, that really caught me off guard. I never even knew much about that kind of stuff, you know?"

They arrived at the restaurant and pulled into the parking lot, next to Jason's car. Sheila's hand by now had inched up the inside of his thigh, under his shorts. It didn't slip underneath his briefs, but nonetheless was dangerously close to bumping in to his scrotum. "You have had a pretty sheltered life, haven't you? I can see your experience with girls is pretty limited, or, at least, pretty vanilla."

Still very mindful of her hand, Jason stammered before he could answer her. "Uh, wa, wa, well, I guess it is. I told you I haven't had a lot of time for dating what with college and then work. It looks like I have a lot to learn."

Rubbing up and down his thigh, Sheila asked, "Does it bother you that I'm touching your leg? What do they call this muscle? Feels like you work on your lower body at the gym too."

"It's called the quadriceps muscle. And yes, I do a lot of exercises for my legs. But it doesn't bother me that you're touching me. In fact I find it feels real good. Just as it did Sunday when you were touching other parts."

"I'm glad. I enjoy being with you, and appreciate the work you've helped me with. Was afraid you wouldn't want to come over again."

"Don't think that, Sheila. Anytime I'm free I'm at your disposal. And if you are so inclined, I'd be OK with some more of your lessons about life."

"Great." Removing her hand, she went on, "Now I should be going. After my shopping I have a Pilates class, so I'll have to get changed."

"Ah! Another of your colorful outfits, I'll bet."

"You're right. If you're still home when I'm leaving I'll ring your bell and show you."

"I'd like that. And thanks a bunch for the ride." As he got out of the car, he turned to her and said, with a grin, "And the leg massage."