He was behind her, his strong frame pushing demandingly against her backside as she writhed to and fro in ecstasy.  She felt him grow even harder, and he pulled her against him more roughly as his right forearm pressed against her waist and his left hand captured her wrist in a steely grip.   She felt the fine sandpaper like stubble of his jaw graze the left side of her neck as he exhaled a harsh blast of hot breath by her earlobe.  “Now,” he groaned, “Now, Laverne!”

She surrendered and bent forward at the waist, too aroused to protest her lack of control.  She felt her silky slip rustle and gasped suddenly as she felt his hardness inch up her bare thigh, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. 

His manhood parted her, brushing against her hot slickness before penetrating her quickly.  Laverne cried out as she felt her flesh erupt into goose bumps, unable to even try to contain her reaction to the sensations he caused in her.

She spread her legs wider to accommodate his girth, the aching fullness that he caused in her was intoxicating.  She pressed back against him and shuddered as he ground himself repeatedly against her sensitive pussy.  She felt herself climbing to her peak, only to let out a frustrated moan as he withdrew from her completely.

Suddenly he yanked back on her arm, flipping her helplessly onto her back.  Lenny’s face loomed above her instantly as he plunged himself once again into her wet core.  His lips covered hers hungrily as he began to thrust inside of her, forcing her to gasp for air.

Laverne felt herself tumble over the brink, unable to breathe as she tried to cry out his name…

Laverne awoke with a start, gasping for air before throwing her pillow to the ground.  She tried to calm her trembling self as she looked around the darkened bedroom and saw the beginning of graying dawn flicker through her window.  She squinted at the luminescent dial of the clock on the nightstand.  Five fifteen--on a Sunday morning.

She tried to muffle the involuntary groan as it escaped her lips before it could awaken the heavily breathing man at her side.  She watched his chest rise and fall in silhouette as her eyes fully adjusted to the dim light.  Why wasn’t it you?

The shame of her dream filled her and she felt her cheeks warm.  She loved Randy with almost all of her heart.  He was a wonderful man, a terrific husband…

Laverne looked down at the gold band on her left ring finger that sat flush up against her engagement ring.  In the dimness of the bedroom, it no longer resembled jewelry as much as it did a shackle.

She lay back down on her pillow as her heaving breath returned to normal.  It had been a mistake, she thought of the night before.  The evening had been fun, the annual St. Patrick’s Day party at the Pizza Bowl had ended a little after midnight, and it only seemed normal that the festivities continue on at their apartment.  Let’s buy a house first before we start having kids, okay, Laverne?

Carmine had been in rare form; his renditions of “Danny Boy” had become more heartfelt with each and every mug of beer that passed his lips.  Shirley had enjoyed herself as well, hanging on his arm and his every word—apparently forgetting about her prior night’s   date with an insurance salesman.  Laverne had forced a smile when she’d stumbled across the two of them sharing a tender moment on her fire escape a few hours before, but her flash of bitterness at that moment still surprised and bothered her.

Her Pop had been mercifully quiet that evening, and she knew that she owed Edna one for telling Frank to ix-nay it about andchildren-gray for one night.  She’d forgotten how nice it was to have everyone over without her husband and her father being at odds over what she was and wasn’t doing with her body.

He’d somehow sensed she was upset, and offered to help her to carry the trash out as Randy headed to bed around one, begging off in helping her clean up since he’d have to be on duty by nine the next morning.  She’d chuckled when they’d walked by a passed out Squiggy in Randy’s easy chair; Lenny’d been so earnest when he’d promised to safely see his roommate home later, even though their apartments were only separated by a flight of stairs.

Andrew Squiggman was lucky to have such a loyal friend, as she was as well.  And that’s all that she and Lenny would be, just friends.  That’s all the dream meant, she reassured herself, as she’d told Lenny a few years ago.

Then why had her gut clenched up into a tight ball when Squiggy had ribbed Lenny about Easy Bridget standing him up earlier tonight at the Pizza Bowl?  Why had she smiled when she had ended up as his partner during The Stroll while Randy had been back in the kitchen helping Edna reach some beer mugs on a high shelf?  Why had did she noticed that his eyes had seemed bluer tonight, his posture straighter, and his smile contagious?

Laverne rolled over on her side and looked at the sleeping face of her husband, ruggedly handsome despite a scar on his cheekbone; a souvenir from a collapsing house that had nearly claimed his life two years before.  She loved Randy; she was certain of that.  He made her smile, called her when he said he would, embraced her friends and family with open arms, and a least two nights a week, brought her to a shuddering pleasure that only seemed to get better with time.

Then why was the scent of Lenny’s cheap musk cologne still running as rampant through her nose as it was when they had both clumsily ended up crammed in the same doorway as they returned from taking the empty beer bottles to the alley?  They had stood a hairsbreadth away from one another; not touching, but close enough to feel the electric current running between their bodies as they stood staring at one another.  Laverne remembered wanting to kiss him; more than kiss him, she wanted to nibble on his lower lip until she felt his control break and he pressed her up against the wall of the alley and…

And what?  She’d kissed Lenny before; pity kisses and his clumsy mash attempts—none of them had ever ignited anything within her in the past. 

He’d felt something too last night, she knew it.  His gaze was just as hungry as hers, smoldering and almost animalistic.  She’d felt herself leaning towards him, her lips parting in anticipation.

Part of her had been relieved when his cheeks flushed and he’d hurriedly backed away from her with all the sudden timidity of a frightened rabbit; another part of her she barely recognized had wanted to scream out in frustration.  He’d stammered a bit of nonsense about stepping on her toe and then had quickly made his retreat to his own apartment after a mumbled, “Good night.”

Laverne grunted and rolled onto her other side, away from the ever-brightening daylight that pushed its way through their bedroom window.  She had to be up by seven thirty if she was going to be able to meet her Pop and Edna in time for the nine o’clock Mass.  And, as always when Randy had to work from Sunday through Tuesday, she’d have brunch at their apartment and then…

What?  Shirley and Carmine had tickets—for two—to a matinee in Chicago that would feature one of Carmine’s former students.  Pop and Edna were going to visit one of her Pop’s lodge brothers who was ill in Racine, and Squiggy had complained to one and all last night how he had to put in some overtime to help pay off his stepfather’s new truss.

Inspiration dawned on her and she smiled.  Perhaps she and Lenny could catch a matinee at the New View?  Godzilla on Monster Island had always been a favorite of hers.  Besides, there wasn’t anything wrong about two friends going to a movie together…

FIN