Fast Friends: Reunion

by Turner, Stacy

  “You slept with your boss?” was all Tara could say. He had shown bad judgement. There was no spinning that fact.

  “We didn't have sex, but it was close enough. Anyway, I went ahead and made all my moving arrangements this week, but I was able to talk to her yesterday and explain that my leaving had nothing to do with what happened between us. I'd been offered a great opportunity and I was taking it.”

  “But you liked her,” Tara said, feeling suddenly much less important. He wasn't moving because of her either. It was all about work.

  “As a friend,” he said. “I was just lonely and she was there. Really, it's not the kind of thing I would normally do. I was really stupid, but I thought we were past it. I couldn't pretend to have feelings that weren't there, though.”

  Tara didn't respond. She kind of wished he hadn't told her. Even though he said it wasn't the kind of thing he would normally do, did that mean sleep with his boss or have meaningless sex?

  “Are you disappointed in me?” Mark asked, actually sounding the answer mattered, but his expression didn't give much away. He wrapped his arm around Tara and pulled her against him. He yawned. “It's not like I set out to hurt her. It just kind of happened. She'll get over it.”

  Tara closed her eyes, frowning slightly. Here it was she thought she knew Mark and it turned out he was just as capable of being an insensitive asshole as the next guy. What did he tell himself about the cold way he sometimes treated her? Was he going to be telling the next girl he slept with that Tara had misread their relationship, that he liked her, but couldn't pretend to have feelings that weren't there? With that disturbing thought still in her head, Tara drifted off to sleep, the light stroke of Mark's hand on her back soothing her body, but not her mind.

  The next morning Tara had shaken off her unease. Despite Mark's hot and cold behavior, she reminded herself he had come to see her as soon as he got back to town, and he'd been nothing but sweet this time. When she woke up he was spooning her from behind, his face buried in her hair. She let herself relax into his body, caressing the lean muscle of the arm that was thrown over her. He stirred and gathered her closer, mumbling her name.

  Eventually they got up, showered and had breakfast. Mark was in a good mood, telling her about his plans.

  “I don't start the new job for another week,” he said, “so I have a little time to find an apartment. I was thinking maybe downtown. I've heard good things.”

  Tara gave him a few suggestions, but really she enjoyed hearing him prattle on about architectural styles and building amenities. He talked about his parents a bit and told her they were excited that he was moving home. He was staying at their place, like she'd expected, and said it was weird living in his childhood home again, even temporarily.

  “Last night,” he recounted, “they wanted to know where I was going, who with, when I'd be home. It was kind of funny. They kept asking what was in the box. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.”

  “What is in the box?” Tara asked, having forgotten about it.

  “Hmm,” he said, smiling. “Your other surprise.” He grabbed the little gift box and handed it to her. It was the wrong shape to be a jewelry box, about five inches square and heavy. Tara shook it, but it was well packed and didn't give any hints. The wrapping was iridescent purple with a black bow. Black ribbon was an unusual choice and her curiosity was piqued.

  “Open it,” he said, tugging at one of her curls. Tara undid the bow and tore off the wrapping. The box inside was black and plain. She lifted off the lid and her mouth fell open. It was a small rose-pink glass object, shaped like an elongated pear with a thick stem and a flattened disc on one end. It was beautiful, but she was pretty sure it wasn't a paperweight.

  “What is it?” she asked, having a very good idea.

  “Turn around,” Mark said, “and I'll show you.”

  Tara stood up and faced away from Mark. His hand glided up her thigh and under her skirt, slipping between her cheeks. His fingers reached between her legs and circled her clit, making her gasp.

  “Bend over,” he said. She complied, resting her hands on the coffee table. He flipped her skirt up admiring the view. Her buttocks were upthrust, her long legs slightly parted. The thin fabric of her thong was stretched over her mound. She felt his breath on her ass before his tongue teased the edge of the skimpy fabric. Gripping her thighs, he pressed a kiss to her center, nipping at the sensitive flesh. He sucked at the cotton panel, applying gentle pressure to her clit. Tara moaned, arching into him.

  “Don't move,” he said. She heard the rustle of tissue paper and then he pulled her panties to the side, pressing the cool object into her body. She was wet and it slid in easily. It was thick enough to stretch her, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He thrust it in a couple of times, using the thumb of his free hand to stroke her clit. Tara's nipples tightened. He twirled the toy and pulled it out, replacing it with his mouth. He sucked hard and she shuddered, her knees buckling. Desire pulsed through her core. She was dripping wet.

  Mark released her flesh with a slurp and pulled back. Tara stayed in place, waiting to see what he would do. There was more rustling and then he pulled her panties down to her knees. Something cold squirted into her crack and she stiffened.

  “Breathe,” he said, sliding the toy over her wet opening and up to the tight puckered hole in her rear. Gently, he pressed the smooth, tapered end into her. Her body resisted, but gradually opened. Mark swirled the glass object, penetrating and pulling back several times. Tara realized that she liked it. She had never been either a toy person or an ass person, but the subtle rhythm was definitely turning her on. After a few minutes of delicious torture, Mark added more lube and inserted the plug all the way inside her. It was a bit painful when it reached the thickest point, but was more comfortable when it was all the way in. The stem was firmly lodged in her rectum and it was held in place by the thick bulb inside her. Mark pulled her panties back up and turned her around, planting a firm kiss on her lips.

  “How does it feel?” he asked, pulling her onto his lap sideways.

  “Weird,” she said, a bit breathless. “I feel so full.”

  He traced her lips with his fingers, a satisfied look in his eyes. He was flushed. Tara reached for the front of his pants, but he pulled her hand away, kissing her fingers softly.

  “I have to go,” he said. “Things to do.” He stood up, holding her by her waist and guiding her gently away from his body.

  “You're not going to leave me like this,” Tara said, pouting dramatically. She wondered if her little girl act still worked on him, and apparently it didn't.

  “That's exactly what I'm going to do,” he said, searching for his jacket. “I'll see you tonight. Dinner?”

  “Okay,” she said, a bit confused. “What time?”

  “Let's 7:30,” he said, picking up the black coat. “There's this restaurant I was reading about--”

  “Let's stay in,” Tara interrupted, admiring the lithe movements of his body. Her pussy pulsed. She wanted him so badly. “I'll make dinner.”

  “Okay,” he said. “If your dinners are as good as your breakfasts I'm in for a treat.” He went to the door, pausing to scan her flushed features.

  “By the way,” he said, grasping the doorknob, “you're not allowed to take it out. You need to wear the butt plug all day, understand?”

  Tara blinked. “All day? What if I have to go out? I need to get groceries.”

  “All day,” he said, firmly. “And no touching. No one gets to make you come but me, Tara.”

  Tara absorbed that statement. She could feel the toy shifting her every time she moved. She would go crazy if she had to stay like this all day. It would be like walking around with him inside her.

  “Mark,” she said pleadingly. “Please.”

  He gave her a quick hug and opened the door. “You'll thank me,” was the last thing he said before he left, a jaunty kick in his step.

  Mark drove away from Tara's wondering if
she would obey him. He was pushing things beyond where they had gone so far and he was curious to see if she would go with him or chicken out. The butt plug was something new for her, he could tell. Last night hadn't been exactly what he had expected. She had been passionate, of course, but she'd cuddled up to him so tenderly that he realized she was probably developing feelings for him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was why he needed to show her tonight exactly what he expected. He had a few toys, but he didn't like the idea of using anything on her that he'd used on other girls. He'd have to find a shop and pick up a couple of things. Lube, obviously, since she didn't have much on hand, maybe a couple of other items.

  He hadn't worked out all week, so he after going home for a shower and change, he headed to a studio he'd found online. He walked into the dojo and found it spare and well-ordered. The sensei was in his sixties, but in excellent shape. There was a mix of students – some teenagers and people in their twenties and a few older guys. Most were men, but some women too. The class was fast paced. Mark enjoyed moving through the forms. He felt the soreness of nonuse fading from his muscles, replaced by a different kind of ache. One thing Mark loved about martial arts was the way it stretched him. The class broke apart by levels and he sparred with the small group of black belts. One guy, Hector, was small, but particularly fast. Mark had to stay on his toes to keep up with him and lost two out of three times against him. This place was going to work out fine. Mark hated when things were too easy.

  After the class, sweaty and out of breath, Mark chatted to a few of the other students. Many had been coming to the studio for years and had great things to say about it. Hector, it turned out, was police detective. They exchanged numbers and agreed to meet for coffee later in the week. A couple of other people told him about a bar nearby where they often hung out. They wanted him to drop by that night, but since had plans he had to ask for a raincheck.

  He left the studio feeling pretty good. He'd only been home a day and he was already making friends. He was used to making friends easily in the city, but if felt good to do it here, where he had struggled so much when he was younger. He hadn't realized until then that he was worried about how he would fit in. It had been a long time since he was that awkward kid, but bad experiences had a way of lingering in a person's mind, having power they might not even realize.

  He only had time to take another quick shower before he had to meet the real estate agent. They had a full afternoon of viewings lined up. He wasn't planning to buy, but he didn't have either the time or inclination to spend hours poring over listings. He could afford a little help, so he was going to use it. His parents weren't pleased at his hasty ins and outs.

  “Will you be home for dinner?” his mother asked, when she found him at the door putting on his coat.

  “Sorry,” he told her. “I have plans.”

  “Who with?” she asked.

  Mark rolled his eyes. “A friend.”

  “We've barely seen you,” Marty complained.

  “I'll be around tomorrow,” he said, pecking her on the cheek. “Promise.”

  She scowled, but Mark ignored it. She would have to get used to the fact that he was a grown man. Not that it didn't feel good that his parents wanted to spend time with him. Wanted was wanted, after all.

  While he toured the downtown apartments the agent had picked out for him, Mark couldn't help imaging what Tara would think of each one. He liked the idea of a place with plenty of room and lots of light, something modern and open. Living in the city had given him a taste for exposed brick and the industrial look and he wasn't disappointed with his options. Still, would Tara like it? Her apartment was a bit cookie cutter, but warm and cozy for all that. Maybe he could have a second bedroom, something softer that she'd feel more comfortable in.

  What was he thinking? They weren't a couple. Still a little extra room wouldn't hurt – an office/guestroom kind of thing. He might have friends out to visit or people stay over after a party. It wasn't just for her. Or maybe a play room. That would be fun. He hadn't found a club here yet and anyway he was getting older. Shouldn't his apartment meet all his needs?

  He got done looking at apartments around 4:30 and thanked the agent. There was a place he liked and he told her to start whatever process she needed to get it for him. It had been a productive afternoon. Now he could focus on the evening. A quick search found him a sex shop near the last place he'd viewed, and by 5:30 he had everything he needed for tonight. Impulsively, he ran into a florist and picked up a bouquet of roses. He'd never gotten a gift like that for a sub before, but he told himself it was because Tara was his friend. They weren't red roses, after all; he just wanted to make his friend smile before he made her beg. What was wrong with that?

  Tara was dying. She stayed home as long as she could, but eventually she had to make a run to the supermarket to get a few items for dinner. The drive was uncomfortable. The toy pressed deep into her the whole way there. She chose a store close to her house that she knew well. She went to the fresh foods first and got vegetables then made her way to meat department.

  Tara grimaced as she surveyed the beef. The vegetables had been easy to get, but the meat was another story. Gingerly, she bent forward and picked up a plastic-wrapped steaks. The damn thing shifted inside her again. Her stomach muscles tightened involuntarily. She slowly straightened up. Thankfully, the steaks looked perfect. Normally, she would have gone to the counter and asked the attendant to get meat out of the case for her, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone right now.

  “Hi, Tara,” a familiar sounding voice said from a few feet away. She turned to see Misty and Lana smiling at her from a few feet away. Great, Tara thought. Just what I need today.

  “Hi, girls,” Tara said, returning their plastic smiles. “Nice to see you.”

  “You look all grown up today,” Misty tittered. “Guess even you can't stay in high school forever.”

  Tara didn't reply. She dropped the steaks into her basket and looked towards the checkout. She had considered getting a couple of additional items, but suddenly she didn't want to spend one more second in the supermarket.

  “Don't be rude,” Lana said. “How've you been, Tara? We didn't get to catch up at the reunion.”

  “I''m great,” Tara said, leaving it at that.

  “What are you doing these days?”

  “I work in marketing,” Tara told them, shifting her weight. Damn butt plug. Her face heated as she was reminded again that she was standing in a supermarket with a sex toy inside her.

  “You live around here, right?” Lana asked. “I catch a glimpse of you every once in a while.”

  “Yeah,” Tara said. “A few blocks away.” Tara figured if she kept her answers short and sweet they'd give up sooner than later and let her get out of there.

  “Talked to Mark Griegson lately?” Misty asked, once again zeroing in on the most uncomfortable topic.

  “We've talked,” Tara said.

  “We couldn't help noticing how cozy you were at the reunion,” Lana said. “It sucks that he's not local.”

  Tara almost corrected her, but stopped herself in time. There was really no need for them to know Mark had moved back. That would just get them scheming and probably lead to more unwelcome questions.

  “Yeah, it does,” was all Tara said. The two women exchanged a meaningful look.

  “So you're not really seeing anyone,” Misty stated unkindly. “Guess a good man is hard to find.”

  “You got married after high school, didn't you?” Tara asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” Misty said, “but married life is so boring. I'd rather be dating.”

  “Oh?” Tara said, edging towards the checkout.

  “She's separated,” Lana said, by way of explanation.

  “Happily separated,” Misty said smiling in a way that didn't reach her eyes. “Guys change, you know. Terry was so great when we got married, but now all he does is work. We're young. We should be having fun.”
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  “I guess you know why I'm single then,” Tara said. This woman had a lot of gall to try to make her feel insecure for being single while at the same time trying to spin her separation as a positive.

  “I'm not single,” Misty corrected her, smugly, “I'm actually dating a really great guy. He always wants to take me out and buy me stuff.”

  “That's great,” Tara said, dryly. “He's a lucky man.”

  “By the way,” Lana interrupted, visibly uncomfortable with the catty exchange, “I wanted to tell you that I got engaged.

  “Congratulations,” Tara said.

  Lana held up her left hand to show off her ring. It was white gold with a small, but well-set stone. Tara actually liked it. She said as much.

  Lana blushed slightly and thanked her. “You don't think it's too small?”

  “Of course not,” Tara said, noting Misty's nasty smirk. What an awful person, Tara thought. Tara could just guess who had suggested the ring wasn't good enough. “It's beautiful.”

  “We're having a little engagement party,” Lana said, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “It's nothing fancy, but I'd like you to come. I was going to tell your mom at the next meeting, but since we ran into each other, it saved me the trouble.”

  “Meeting?” Tara asked.

  “For adult literacy,” Lana explained. “My fiance's a professor at the community college and he got me interested, so I've been helping out with your mom's campaign. I'm inviting everybody from the group, and when I was sending the evites out I thought of you, but I didn't have your email. I mean, I know you might already have other plans, but think about it, okay. Your mom will have all the details.”

  “Sure,” Tara said, with no intention of following-up. Lana could be okay given the chance, but Misty usually trailed behind her like bad gas. “I'll check my calendar.”