The Carousel Shoppe

[captivate]

The Peevish Miss Amelia Nelsen

I pulled out my little notebook, irritated to see the smirk on Denny's face as I flipped through the pages to my neatly printed list of questions. "Hmmmm...let's see him smile through these," I thought.

1. Who are you?
2. Where did you come from?
3. What kind of law do you practice?
4. Are you married?
5. Why did you pick Scottsville?
6. Why don't you have staff?
7. Are you avoiding the law?
8. Are you attached?
9. Why are all your clients women?
10. Why are they all beautiful?
11. Why do you see only two appointments per day?
12. Why are the appointments exactly one hour each?
13. Why me?
14. Have you ever been married?
15. Are you divorced?
16. Do you feel sorry for me?
17. Where did you learn to kiss?
18. Are you doing something illegal?
19. Why can't I see the office?
20. Do you think I am pretty?
21. Can you see my virginal heart is hurting?
22. Don't you get tired of being charming?
23. Why are the women always happy afterwards?

I glanced at the last question, written just as my good sense was returning and thought it sounded nearly sexual in nature and wished I could erase it, but Denny had already reached out for the tiny notebook, his warm fingers caressing mine for a moment.

At his touch, I nearly lost my courage to confront him. My mind, and worse, my body, responded to him in a manner I had never experience before. Damn him!

I fought to regain control, to remember my anger, and to assert my right to know the answers to the questions I had assembled. I sat back in my chair, trying to break free of his magnetic presence, trying to re-establish my composure. I felt my cheeks warming as a blush passed through me. I saw Denny smile with delight at my response to him.

Then he lazily looked at my list, raising quizzical eyes to mine, not looking quite as delighted.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

And so I learned just how organized was my dear Miss Nelsen. I perused her neatly hand-written list and a few of the entries surprised me not so much by the question itself, for any person with the least amount of curiosity would likely end up asking themselves the same questions; I was surprised by what it revealed about Miss Nelsen. It was obvious that I had had some effect upon her; it was doubly obvious that she had seen far more in our Saturday evening together than I had, and that thought made me a bit sad. With that in mind I looked up to her and tried to smile.

“The easiest question to answer is the most obvious one to me,” I observed. “Question number twenty: yes, I find your petite delicate beauty extremely charming and delightful. However, I do not feel sorry for you in the slightest, for I love and admire independent women. But I am sorry that I cannot see you are hurt. If I am the cause then I give you my heartfelt apology for it is far from my intent to hurt you.”

Amelia sat upright in the chair opposite me listening intently. At the mention of my compliment she absentmindedly ran her hand through her hair, as if to pat it into place.

Our server, Todd, arrived and announced himself as such and breezily described the daily special, which did sound good, and then promptly and thankfully disappeared quickly with our order.

Although the first set of my answers had perhaps lightened her concern, Miss Nelsen still had the curious kitty cat look about her and was certainly not going to take too many evasive answers. Or so I hoped.

“The answers to some of your questions are a matter of public record,” I continued. “I was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. Graduated from Yale Law School, Class of Seventy-Eight. I chose Scottsville because it is a sleepy little town where most people don’t ask too many questions. I have never married, though there have been some opportunities. As far as my kissing talents and charm, those are things of which I am unaware. I have always assumed that everyone knows how to kiss well and carry on polite conversation.”

At that moment Todd graciously excused himself for disturbing us as he arrived with our iced tea with lemon. As he slipped away back into the restaurant, I looked over at Miss Nelsen for I knew that the questions that burned most in her mind were those relating to my practice.

“As for your remaining questions, there is little that I can tell you without violating client privilege due to the sensitive nature of my practice,” I said, noting the look on her face. “But I will assure you that my dealings are perfectly legitimate and that my clients come to me seeking legal help, of which I am most capable of dispensing.”

I leveled my gaze at Miss Nelsen. She had chosen to remain quiet as I answered her questions, but I was certain that there was something else, something more that she wanted to hear.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

He did such a good job of decimating my list, leaving me sitting beside him, nearly ashamed of myself. How could I ask him to betray client confidentiality? How could I doubt such a good man, with such honorable intentions? I had let my personal feelings interfere with my role as landlady, and for that I was deeply sorry. I looked back at Denny, my mind battling between asking more and maintaining some degree of integrity.

He was so incredibly attractive. Not in the traditional sense, I suppose, but to me, he was the epitome of southern manhood. He was watching me, waiting to see which direction my busy, little mind was moving.

He had assured me he was a legitimate, honest man, with a perfectly normal law practice. What did I know? Perhaps this is exactly how practices were run. God knows, I wanted to believe him, wanted things to return to the easy intimacy of Saturday night, when I felt so pretty and special in his company.

As all these thoughts raced through my mind, I could see Denny watching me, wondering if I was placated.

I looked into his smiling eyes and dimpled. "I have one more question, sir. Then, I will close the interrogation," I said.

I thought I saw a moment of concern on his face, then he smiled and opened his hands, allowing me to continue.

"What, sir, does the P in your name stand for?" I asked, giggling.

His relief was discernible. His face transformed with his smile. "Ah, Madam, you are a worthy adversary. You are finding my deepest secrets!"

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

“And one so adept at delving into secrets deserves an honest answer,” I chuckled, as I returned her tidy little notebook back across the table to her. Amelia smiled prettily at my reply, proud of herself for asking such a disarming question, and deservedly so. That one of the finer men in this sleepy little Victorian town hadn’t caught on to her charm made me doubt the quality of the citizenry of Scottsville. “My middle name is Pemberdon, a long-time family name of the Louisville Willises. I believe there was a Pemberdon Willis with whom I share the same birthdate, though separated by some hundred and sixty years. The significance of that coincidence was not lost on my dear mother, but meant little my grade school rivals.”

I could see that my answers had sated her curiosity for the moment, yet I knew there were questions remaining in her mind, questions that would be answered in time as we got to know each other better. As we waited for Todd to return with our lunches, I decided to toss out something that might placate her a bit further.

“Amelia, I can tell that you are very curious about my law practice and the way that I run it,” I began after taking a long sip of iced tea. “I took over the practice from my uncle and mentor, who was a trailblazer of sorts in our particular discipline, and I have retained some of the same unconventional ways of doing business. However, I can assure you that the results I achieve are most beneficial to my clients and though we may not make the headlines as many other more self-serving barristers do, I am quite content to remain well out of the limelight.”

Just at that moment, the effervescent Todd approached bearing our meal and we took up our forks and napkins with a healthy appetite. There was something in the dainty habits of this delicate little woman that intrigued me and as we began to eat and shared some light banter while doing so, I continued to wonder why the gentlemen of Scottsville had overlooked the proprietress of The Carousel Shoppe. For beneath this unassuming polite and proper exterior was a breathing sensual woman hungering to be set free.

 

[captivate]

The Happy Miss Amelia Nelsen

Thank you, God, that I did not press the issue! Thank you for allowing Denny to look at me again as he had on Saturday! Now that I was sitting across from him, eating our second meal and enjoying his very charming company, I realized I didn't really care what he did in his law office. As long as he was within the law and helping people, I would leave him be. The jealous streak that emerged when I saw the lovely brunette leaving his office was gone. All that was left was Denny, sitting across from me, happily conversing about antiques and small towns, occasionally touching my hand, and making me quiver in places I was just realizing I posessed.

Lunch was lovely. Todd, our server, seemed to respond to Denny's old world charm and was quite solicitous of our needs. Our tea glasses were no sooner half empty when he came forward with a tall pitcher to replenish them. Our meal was served in grand style, and we wanted for nothing. At least, not meal-wise. I wanted, more than anything, to be totally alone with Denny, for all the people to disappear from the restaurant, leaving us totally alone at our table, free to engage in any activity we wished.

Too soon, our meal was over. We lingered for many more minutes, Denny's fingers gently tracing along my hand and wrist, making me tingle and blush. He ordered a delicate peach torte, and we ate it together, feeding each other before it was gone. A drop of vanilla ice cream fell to his chiseled chin, and I gave serious thought to licking it off. Imagine, the spinster Miss Nelsen, openly licking a man's chin! I sadly thought of opportunities missed as he used his napkin to clear the errant drop.

He assisted me from my chair, my arm remaining in his grasp as we left the restaurant. We walked quietly back to the shoppe, no topic of conversation coming to either of us. I liked that. If two people can spend silent time comfortably, it bodes well for their relationship.

Denny walked me to the back door, opening it gallantly for me. I entered and was surprised to hear him come into the workroom behind me. I was just turning around, when I felt his warm hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to face him. I did, wondering, hoping..... He smiled into my eyes and moved his face closer to me, his breath gently warming my face. His mouth closed over mine, fitting perfectly, gently massaging my lips with his. When his tongue moved out to glide over my lips, I opened them and invited him to enter me. Kissing Denny was the most perfect activity. He knew a thousand ways for our lips to mate, and he made them all enjoyable.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

I hadn’t planned on kissing Amelia after lunch, but then there had been little that went according to plan ever since I had moved to Scottsville. And I really had no plan when it came to her either. There had been other landladies in my past, but none who had charmed me quite like this little woman had. But because of her gentle and trusting soul and her decided lack of experience, I knew that my path with her would be taken slowly.

I bid her goodbye and, as I slipped up to my office, heard the resounding strains of the Overture from West Side Story echo up the staircase. Glancing at my watch, I realized that I had only a few moments to prepare for my afternoon appointment with Sylvia Newcastle.

I had just pulled her file and made copies of a couple of documents for her, when I heard the door rattle downstairs and the light sound of her feet on the steps. Her steps were quick and deliberate as if she were in a great hurry.

“Oh, Mr. Willis,” she sobbed the moment she saw me. “It was horrible. I hope you have some good news for me.”

“Now, now, Miss Newcastle,” I said as I received her short, slender frame in my arms. This was perhaps a shade unprofessional, but then often times a well-comforted client is the best client with which to work. I brushed her long light brown hair from her damp eyes and pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and offered it to her. “I do have some very good news for you. We have set our court date for a week from Thursday.”

“Oh, that is wonderful, Mr. Willis,” she sobbed as she dabbed at her clear light blue eyes. She sniffled and struggled to compose herself, taking a seat beside my desk and arranging the skirt of her purple dress on her well-toned legs.

“There is much we have to prepare, so we should be getting to work,” I said. Reaching over to gently pinch the hem of her dress, I smiled. “That is the loveliest silk I have ever seen and such a rich beautiful color!”

“Thank you,” she said, raising her hand and placing it atop mine. “You just always seem to know what to say.”

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

10. He always seems to know what to say.

I had started a new list after lunch and the wonderful interlude in my workroom. Entitled, "Things I Like About Denny", the list flowed nearly effortlessly from my pen.

I was singing along with "I Feel Pretty", understanding the words for the first time, when I noticed the short, shapely woman enter the staircase. In my current frame of mind, my lips still tender and swollen from Denny's kisses, I didn't even mind that she was very attractive and dressed in a particularly brazen color. I listened to them overhead, walking around the office separately. Suddenly, I heard their footsteps merge, and still. I shook my head, absolutely refusing to get involved in speculation. I was obviously important to Denny. Hadn't he just proven how important? We were growing closer together, enjoying each other and learning from each other. What happened upstairs was strictly business, professional. With that thought, I turned to my work for the day, stripping the flawed finish from a intricately carved armoire, preparing to stain the excellent wood a warm honey oak color.

As I worked, I thought often of Denny and my growing feelings for him. My hands slowed and I stood before my project, remembering again the touch of his mouth on mine, his hands on my arms and back, his warm body flush against me, covering me. My body responded to these thoughts, my nipples growing taut and my panties growing damp. I felt the ache that Denny had created in me from nearly the first day and I knew something had to be done. I picked up the phone and dialed my best friend, my old college roommate, Annabelle. She was one of the few townspeople who had actually escaped. She lived in New York City and had often begged me to visit. I thought perhaps the time was perfect for a little trip away from Scottsville.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

“Thank you ever so much, Mr. Willis,” Sylvia remarked as she rose from the plush leather couch and arranged her silk dress. “I hope you don’t mind that this took so long.”

“Not at all, Miss Newcastle,” I replied rising after her and waiting as she primped. “It is always such a pleasure to meet with you, and I feel very um, satisfied with what we just finished.”

“So do I,” she said, leaning up very close to me. “You’re not going to charge me overtime, now, are you?” she joked.

“Now may rates aren’t that exorbitant now are they?”

“Oh, you silly man,” she said with another laugh, her hand reaching out to tap me lightly on the chest and lingered just a moment, before she reached into her purse for her keys.

“Now don’t forget,” I reminded her as I escorted her from my private office to the door. “Your court appearance is a week from next Thursday and you mustn’t be late.”

“I will be on time, I promise,” she replied and with a wonderful swirling spin she turned and slipped though the open door. What was there about pretty little brunettes wearing bold colors?

I took a deep breath and went back to my business, making some notes and final preparations for next week. I know that I could have hired someone to attend to the more mundane tasks, but I have always prided myself as being self-sufficient and would have a definite problem delegating duties to another.

As I finished up and noted the late hour, for some reason I thought of Amelia Nelsen. I couldn’t hear her music playing so I thought that perhaps she must have left to get an early start on her evening. When I slipped downstairs and tried the door handle, I found it locked.

I was walking uptown for dinner anyway, putting my curiosity to the test in discovering the true nature of a Mexican-Irish bistro. Boiled potato burritos? Corned beef enchiladas? As I passed by the front of her shop, I noticed a lovely hand lettered sign in the window, where once I had spotted the for rent sign. “Sorry, we’re closed for a few days! Check back in a few days!”

No doubt she was off on an antique junket, but thought she might have said something about it over lunch. I shrugged amusedly and moved on up the road to Carlos Murphy’s bistro.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

The days have flown by. Saturday, I had my first date with Denny. Sunday, I sat at home alone, all day, feeling abandoned and hurt. Monday, I went to lunch with Denny and enjoyed the meal immensely, ending the date with some warm kisses in my workroom. And Monday afternoon, I drove to the county seat to catch a tiny airplane that was the first part of the long trip to New York City.

Annabelle met me as promised. She looked great, big city life was obviously making her glow. We caught a cab and went cross city, hugging frequently while Belle filled me in on her life. Her job, in a huge corporation, was demanding and fulfilling. Her apartment was rent-controlled and a dream. And her love life, well, she was happily dating William, and falling in love more each day.

Her life sounded perfect. I told her haltingly about Denny, wanting her perspective on our relationship. She listened attentively. Then she looked at me, lost in thought. I waited patiently for her words, for her womanly take on this man who had me so smitten.

"I think he might be frightened of you, Am. You are not his typical conquest, and he is smart enough to realize that. Forgive me for saying this, but you are incredibly innocent and that might give him some concerns. Take it slow. Enjoy him. Don't rush. The first man is always very dear to our hearts. Don't let him hurt you, baby!"

The talk moved on to other subjects, but my mind kept returning to her words. Maybe Denny was so attractive to me because I was very inexperienced and he was the one who touched me first. The problem was, in Scottsville, there were not a lot of opportunities for dating. The men were married or scoundrels. I wasn't interested in either.

Annabelle had a solution. She and William spent the next few days filling my time with lovely men. They seemed to have an amazing assortment of male friends with an interest in meeting a small town woman. I met lawyers, artists, teachers, even a magician. All of them were charming and clever and witty. I felt like the belle of the ball, in constant demand.

Annabelle and I went shopping and found lovely dresses and outfits that I happily purchased to take back home. I was able to indulge in my love of lingerie, purchasing exquisite gossamer items. I was having so much fun. Each night brought a different man, taking me to some wonderful place, treating me like fragile spun glass.

I can't believe I missed all this while caring for my mom and then staying in the little town of Scottsville. Another thing I was enjoying was the kissing. I kissed them all. The men treated me well, very respectful and polite. But as we grew to know one another, I wanted to kiss them, see if I would melt with them as I had for Denny.

Within a few days, I had pretty much settled on Noah. He was an artist and designer, so we had much in common. He took me antique hunting and shopping for whimsical accessories. He never seemed to mind looking for one more item or staying somewhere for just a few more minutes. We packed the days with sightseeing and he was as enthusiastic as any visitor. Each night, he planned something exciting and entertaining. And, as he took me home, every night brought a new round of kissing, a little bolder each time.

He did make my heart pound. He made me laugh and giggle and blush and melt, just a little.

But, as I went to my empty bed, I thought about Denny and wondered how he was doing.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

The crowd at Poole’s Tavern was roiling at its typical boisterous conversation level for less than two hours shy of a Friday midnight. Since it was the summer time and a sultry evening to boot, I had chosen to sit at the outside bar and enjoy the fresher air and ambiance. I had discovered this place my first week in Scottsville and found it the perfect place to become lost as I sipped my bourbon and amusedly observed the vagaries of the town’s more inebriated citizenry. The proprietor had even been so kind as to order a supply of my favorite, exclusive blend of Knob’s Creek.

This evening was little different, thought perhaps my white linen suit may have clung closer to my body because of the late summer humidity. There were one or two other single gentlemen who had come and gone, but by far the more common patrons came in pairs, mixed pairs at that. They were very big on couples in Scottsville and I had felt quite fortunate to have escaped the best matchmaking attempts that no doubt were being drummed up by the volunteer marriage police in an effort to spoil my preferred state of singleness.

So as I sat and watched the couples in various stages of togetherness, those younger ones joyfully just starting out and hanging all over each other, those slightly older who had been together sometime and preferred to hold hands and look lovingly, and those of a more decided middle age who smiled briefly at one another and kept looking around the room, I could not help but notice the slight figure of a slender blonde woman enter and after a brief stop in the restroom, take up position at the bar a pair of stools south of me.

Very deliberately she placed an order for a tall glass of a potent liquor mix and, after a couple of quick sips, sat back as a mood of relaxation came over her. She was wearing a snug red floral silk dress with a sweetheart neckline that appealingly displayed the upper curves of her breasts. When she turned to look about the room I could see that she was of an indecipherable age, obviously more than 20 but certainly less than my age. Perhaps this were an hour before noon instead of an hour before midnight, her age might have been easier to detect.

But most revealing was her body language, the seemingly casual drape of her legs, the nonchalant slink in her shoulders, and an easy and open smile. When our eyes met, I raised my glass and nodded; she did the same. After a few minutes and another pair of salutes were exchanged, I found myself asking if she wanted any company and slipping onto the stool beside her when she nodded sweetly. After a few minutes of conversation I had discovered that her name was Martha, that she sold real estate, was divorced, and was celebrating reaching the two million-dollar mark for the year.

“It’s sad that you’re celebrating alone,” I said softly, “Were none of your colleagues available for such a wonderful evening?”

“They are all jealous and wanted to go home to their families,” she complained drearily. “It’s tough being single in this town.” She propped her elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her palm, her fingers caressing her cheek. She had lovely dark eyes and high rounded cheek bones and her smile created the sweetest dimples. “Wait a minute, I know who you are. You’re that new lawyer they were talking about at work. Everyone is buzzing about you, where you came from, and what you’re up to. And here I am ready to find out.”

“I am a very private man, Martha,” I smiled. “So let’s be content to let them think what they may.”

“Mmm, I love a man of mystery,” she giggled, girlishly. “It’s always so much fun discovering the secret.”

“Sometimes one is not always pleased by what they find when mysteries are revealed,” I added.

She laughed broadly, a lovely open mouth laugh that came from deep inside her. She placed her hand over her mouth and tried to compose herself. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but you talk funny,” she giggled. “Not a bad weird, just different. Kind of geeky and old fashioned. But nice.”

“I’m not sure if I should feel insulted or complimented, but I’ll take the latter.”

“See! That’s just what I mean,” she said, reaching her hand over to touch my shoulder. “But it is very charming, Denny.”

Just before the closing hour, I offered to escort her to her car, but when she told me that she lived just a few blocks away, I altered my offer accordingly. The air was still and humid and the crickets were chirring madly. As we strolled down Main Street to Wing and up to Dunlap, I couldn’t help but notice her slinky gait, perhaps as much due to her three Long Islands as to her easy personality.

“Why isn’t there a Mrs. in your life?” she asked.

“Never found the right woman I guess,” I answered, my pat answer.

“Are you taking applicants?”

“You will find that I am of the most open mind, Martha,” I replied.

She giggled again and pulled out her keys as she turned up the walk to her modest little house nestled between a large pair of rambling Victorians.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“It is getting late, but I suppose a brief visit isn’t out of order.”

Once inside, I declined her offer of a glass of wine but joined her on the cute little porch just outside her dining room that wrapped around the entire side of the house. There was a comfortable looking chaise lounge, ideal for sunbathing given the southern exposure, and a swing upon which she sat. She took a sip of her wine, set it on the side table, and leaned over toward me. As the neckline of her silky dress fell away from her body, there was little doubt left as to the scant style of her undies nor to her intentions for the remainder of the evening.

Her hand touching my cheek was soft and warm and her lips that brushed against mine were equally soft and warm and invitingly wet. I returned her kiss and felt the touch of her tongue brushing my lips. When I placed my hand on her shoulder she reached up and pulled it down to her breast, pressing her firm flesh into my palm. As she did so, for whatever reason befell me, I do not know for certain, but suddenly I thought of Amelia Nelsen, whom I had not seen for a week, and the look of longing and desire on her face when last we had kissed. Certainly it was not that Martha’s kiss was anything less than pure pleasure, nor that there was more than a promise of which road she would be willing to tred this warm sultry night, but I could not shake the image of sweet Amelia from my mind.

“It’s getting late and I should be going,” I said as our lips parted.

“I know, you had better get going or I'll do it for you,” Martha replied breathily. “Let’s get going inside.”

“No, I meant I think I should leave,” I said withdrawing from our embrace. “It’s been wonderful meeting you, Martha, and I hope to see you again, perhaps on a night that begins earlier.”

“All right,” she said with a puzzled look on her face as I got up from the swing and bowed slightly. Shaking her head and brushing back her blonde hair, she got up as well and followed me around to the front. I turned toward her and reached out with my hand to touch her cheek.

“Good night, Martha,” I whispered and then kissed her lightly. “Sweet dreams!”

I turned and stepped down from her porch and walked off into the night, hoping that Amelia was enjoying her evening wherever it was that she was hunting antiques.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

Noah asked me to go out with him on Friday night. Somehow, all my choices had narrowed down to him. I enjoyed his company. He was attentive and clever and so much fun. He had intimated that he enjoyed being with me very much also. He made me laugh and treated me as if I were very special. Each time we were together, I felt even closer to him. Certainly his kisses and light touches made me tingle.

I shared this with Annabelle and she smiled knowingly, pleased to have been correct. She eagerly helped me prepare for my Friday date. First, she picked a lacy red bra, with a tiny pearl closure in the front, making my breasts stand up and nearly spill from the cups. She selected the matching panty and garter belt, and unwrapped the sheer black hosiery we had purchased. After my bubble bath, she sat on my bed and watched me dress. When my undergarments were satisfactory, she went to the closet and brought out the elegant, black, crushed velvet gown that I had bought in a rush of extravagance. It fit my body well, as if designed for me. The neckline emphasized my full breasts and contrasted nicely with my skin. My new shoes were higher than I usually wore, but seemed so perfect with such a glamourous gown, I couldn't resist them. I left my hair in shiny curls, pinning back a few errant strands, letting others hang loosely.

When Noah came to pick me up, his appreciative gaze was enough to make me blush. He helped me into my jacket, gently wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to the limousine waiting for us. He refused to tell me where we were going, only smiled and offered me a bubbly glass of champagne.

We went to the Rainbow Room and saw a cabaret act that made my heart sing. Here was Linda Eder, one of my favorite Broadway actresses, and she was singing all my beloved show tunes. I was mesmerized. Noah invited me to dance and held me close, his arms wrapping around me and holding me securely. I snuggled against him, our bodies a good fit. He ordered several bottles of wine and I drank without even noticing the lightness in my head. If I had, I would have asssumed it was the excitement of the evening, the thrill of the music and the Room and Ms. Eder.

We danced frequently throughout the evening. I didn't notice my unsteadiness, Noah was always there to balance me. I took off my shoes, thinking it was the height that was causing me to stumble. When Ms. Eder sang her last song and took her last bow, Noah took my hand and led me to the car. We settled in the back seat, close together, as I sang snatches from some of my favorite songs. Noah leaned to kiss me and I felt myself melting. "There, Mr. Willis, see....I melt for others, not just you!", I thought. I lifted my face to Noah's, admiring his pretty eyes and full lips, wanting to feel desire overcoming me. His mouth moved down my neck and I felt him kissing my chest and the fullness of my breasts. This was what I wanted. When he made the minor adjustment that made my breasts pop from the gown, my nipples hard and available, I just closed my eyes and waited.

His mouth covered my nipple and began a rhythmic sucking. I could feel my hips begin to sway, my breath become short as I slipped my fingers into his hair and held him to my chest.

"Ah, Denny, I love it when you touch me like that!" I murmured. When he stopped his attentions, making me open my eyes, Noah looked at me and asked, "Who the hell is Denny?"

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

“So I hope you don’t spend this all in one place, Miss MacCaulay,” I remarked with a broad smile as I handed an envelope across my desk to her. “This settlement represents a handsome sum so I hope you have made appropriate plans.”

“I haven’t really not knowing what to expect,” replied Patricia MacCaulay. She couldn’t resist opening the envelope and withdrew the check from within. “Oh, my! You are right about handsome. I could probably buy myself a handsome man with this. Do you know any available?” she asked with a teasing wink tossed in my direction.

“You might use that as a down payment, but will find that there are exorbitant maintenance fees.”

She tossed her head back and let out a gorgeous laugh, her dark green eyes twinkling, her wide mouth and full lips smiling, her perfect her thick wavy red hair cascading past her pale shoulders. She leaned forward replaced the check in the envelope and slipped it into her purse.

“I still can’t believe this,” she remarked, folding her hands together and resting them on the top knee of her crossed legs. The skirt of her snug black dress rode up her thigh a bit. She swung her shapely calf back and forth and let her shoe dangle from her foot. “And without even having to go to court. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with that or not. But I was quite surprised and very pleased.”

“Sometimes, all it takes is the threat of an embarrassing court appearance and they roll over like sick little puppy dogs.”

“Well, I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” she remarked coyly.

“I’m sure that when my bill arrives, you will find a way.”

She laughed again and rose from the chair. I did the same and escorted her to the door.

“I will miss our appointments, Mr. Willis,” she said softly. “Very much.” She rested a hand on my chest and leaned toward me as if she were going to kiss me.

“As will I,” I answered.

The door at the foot of the stairs opened and the sound of footsteps on the stairs reverberated through the door. It was just before noon and my next appointment wasn’t until 2 p.m. so I’m sure that face revealed my puzzlement. Miss MacCaulay stepped aside as the door opened and Martha, the real estate agent, entered. She brushed her long ash blonde hair back from her face, looked at me then at Miss MacCaulay before looking back at me again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Denny,” she smiled. “I didn’t know you were busy but I was free for lunch and wondered if you would care to join me?”

“Actually, I have no plans,” I replied curtly. “But it would have been nice if you had called ahead of time. Oh, forgive my lack of manners. Miss Patricia MacCaulay, this is Martha. Miss MacCaulay is a client of mine.”

“Nice to meet you,” Miss MacCaulay said warmly. “Why, Mr. Willis, I didn’t know that you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t,” I replied, again in a short clipped voice. “We’ve just met.”

“Well, I should be going anyway,” Patricia said, excusing herself toward the door. “Thank you again ever so much, Mr. Willis.”

“You’re very welcome,” I replied, shaking her hand.

“Nice to have met you,” she said politely to Martha before slipping past through the open door and happily down the stairs.

“I know I should have called or something,” Martha said, her voice bubbling cheerfully. “But I was through my last appointment early and thought I’d see if my favorite old-fashioned lawyer friend was open for lunch.”

“I suppose I could join you,” I said hesitantly. Looking at her face now in the full light of day, I could see that she was considerably more than twenty, in fact she hadn’t seen twenty in perhaps twenty years or so. But she was a pretty woman with a lovely set of freckles and a broad warm smile and easy manner that surely had contributed to her real estate success. And dressed stylishly in a dark lace camisole top and slim skirt with a tan jacket and a pair of dressy sandals, she looked quite fetching and every inch the part.

“Well, let’s go then,” she said taking me by the arm and pulling me out the door. “So tell me, what is Amelia like as a landlady? You know, she and I went to school together. Maybe I’ll stop by and say hello on our way.”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” I remarked slowly as I followed her down the stairs. I had heard the telltale sounds of Amelia working in her shop earlier that morning so I was sure that she had returned from her trip. I wasn’t so sure that I wanted to have lunch with her old school chum.

 

[captivate]

The Mortified Miss Amelia Nelsen

I am not sure what happened, I was enjoying Noah's kisses and his warm mouth covering my aching nipple and suddenly, he pulled away, asking me who Denny was? It was only then that I realized I had spoken my thoughts out loud, actually spoken Denny's name.

I never would have imagined that I, Amelia Nelsen, would be in a predicament such as this. Until one week ago, I had only engaged in a few childish, messy kisses. Now, I not only had spent some very sensual time with Mr. Willis, but I had attempted to kiss every available man in New York City. In my haste, I had tried to become smitten with Noah, only to embarrass myself and probably hurt him. He had been nothing but kind and considerate with me, and I had behaved horribly.


I looked at Noah, not sure what to say, how to explain. To my dismay, tears came to my eyes and I felt myself telling him the whole story. He held me to his chest and listened, murmuring understandingly. His arms felt warm around me and I felt less foolish as I finished my tale of Denny and his seductive ways. Noah was silent for so long, I thought I had bored him to sleep, then I heard him clear his throat.

"You need to face him, Amelia. You need to find out if there is anything really there, or just the thrill of the first man. I think I could love you, so you need to explore this with him, with Denny, and then we can proceed. You are a special woman, worth waiting for, and I will wait."

My heart warmed to him. He was so kind and good, and I truly wanted to love him too. He held me until the limousine stopped at Annabelle's apartment building and then he helped me from the car, treating me once again as a fragile woman. We kissed in the elevator and again at the door and I thought for sure that I had felt a tingle from his lips. He said goodnight and kissed my forehead, promising once again that he would be waiting.

I arranged to fly home to Scottsville Sunday evening.

I spent the rest of the weekend with Belle, just us, talking about everything in our lives and minds. I listened as she rhapsodized about her William and gave her what little advice I could.

Boarding the plane was both sad and welcomed. I was leaving my best friend and a place where I had truly had fun. But I knew I was returning to straighten my life and make a plan.

As the tiny airplane landed in the county seat, I took a deep breath of home. It was revitalizing. I drove to Scottsville, listening to Linda Eder on my CD player, remembering the magical night with Noah. Arriving at my house, I smiled to see it again, happy to be home at last.

I slept well that night, for the first time in nearly a week. In the morning, I dressed in my new lingerie, feeling quite worldly and feminine. I choose a pale pink dress, fitted with a flared skirt that swirled delightfully around my legs. Suddenly, I was anxious to be in my shoppe, working with my favorite items.

I entered through the back, not sure if I wanted to announce my return quite yet. I spent the morning working, a ratty, huge shirt covering my elegant new clothing. I played my music a little lower than usual, hoping I didn't have to face Denny yet. I had some more thinking to do.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

The heat of the afternoon was apparent as we stepped through the door and out to the street. Martha truly did seem disappointed to see the hand-lettered “Sorry, We’re Closed” sign in the window of Amelia’s shop. She even rattled the door handle to make sure.

“Oh, pooh!” she pouted.

“That’s odd, having heard her earlier this morning,” I commented, trying to move away from the door and on toward the restaurant. “Perhaps she has left to pick up the things she had shipped home from her trip.”

“And I really did want to say hello,” she said disappointedly as she rattled the door one last time. I took her arm and tried to maneuver her along the sidewalk, but she insisted on looking over the things placed in the front window. “Oh, look at that!” she exclaimed pointing toward an intricately carved armoire in a warm honey oak color. “That is so lovely! Not my style at all, but beautiful piece of furniture.”

Just as we were about to move away, I caught a glimpse of a shadow inside the shop and when looking closer noticed it was the figure of Amelia walking toward the door. Martha saw her as well and waved exaggeratedly and dragged me toward the door. I let her arm slip away from my hand as Amelia unsnapped the lock and opened the door.

“Ammie! Hi! How are you?” Martha said excitedly.

“Hello, Martha. Hello, Denny,” she replied looking at me with a most surprised look on her face. “I’m doing fine. A little tired from my trip to New York, but doing well. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We were just on our way to lunch when I wanted to stop by and say hello,” Martha said.

“Would you like to come in and look around?” Amelia asked politely.

“Like I said, we were on our way to lunch, but perhaps afterwards,” Martha said.

“Why don’t you join us, Amelia?” I asked, trying to keep some distance between myself and Martha, who was giving me a look as well. “We were just heading over to Edward’s Café.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Amelia remarked, her dark eyes darting from one of us to the other and back again. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, please, join us,” Martha said.

“Well, I suppose,” Amelia replied, fingering the buttons on her oversized smock. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I answered quickly, noticing that Martha's expression was less than fully pleased. “It will be fun.”

As we two stood just inside the front door, looking around, Amelia disappeared into the back of her shop, returning few minutes later with her purse, looking freshened and quite lovely in a very flattering pale pink dress.

“Is that new?” Martha exclaimed. “It’s pretty.”

“Oh, this?” Amelia remarked, primping just a bit. “As a matter of fact yes. I picked it up last week on my trip.”

There was obviously some history between these two, perhaps more than being mere classmates, and the tension flowing between them peaked my curiosity. After Amelia locked the door, I took each of their arms and led the way toward Edward’s and what should be an entertaining and informative luncheon.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

Damn! Why hadn't I just kept working and ignored the doorknob rattling? "Because I wanted it to be Denny, that's why," I told myself. And it was. But not Denny alone, as I wanted. He was in the company of my least favorite person in the world, Martha McAllister. Once I peeked into the shoppe, I knew Denny had seen me and I had to open the door. I could hear Martha's strident voice, exclaiming over my new armoire. "Not my taste!" The woman had no taste! I opened the door to hear that insane nickname that she was so fond of, Ammie. Martha was one of those people who had to abbreviate every word, every name, even perfectly acceptable ones. I briefly wondered what she would do with Denny's name.

I could tell she was possessive of him as they entered my front room. She stood near him, she leaned toward him, I could almost see the tentacles wrapped around his body. They had both invited me to join them for lunch, but I could think of nothing I would less rather do. Then, quickly, I changed my mind. Let Denny squirm. Let him try to be casual with Martha while she was busy showing me ownership. This could be fun!

I went into the back room and removed my work shirt. I was so happy I had worn one of my new dresses today. Standing before the antique mirror, I took stock. I was wearing pale pink satin panties with a demi-bra, making my breasts full and lush against the bodice of my dress. I was also glad I was wearing the pink satin garter belt, attached to sheer white hosiery. My pale shoes complimented my shapely ankles. The dress itself was perfection, emphasizing my figure, hopefully reminding Denny how much he had enjoyed this very body not too long ago.

My cheeks were flushed just thinking about the upcoming lunch. My nipples had hardened at the sight of Denny and I had felt that ache he always created between my legs. I was a formidable opponent for Martha and her tactics.

As I entered the showroom, Denny looked at me appreciatively. I felt lovely and certainly an equal to Martha. He led us out the door, walking between us as we started out to the restaurant.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

It must have been plain to even the most unobservant among us that there was some history between Miss Nelsen and Miss McAllister. The former seemed quite wary and unsure and certainly not very trusting of the other, whereas the latter was completely unmindful and in that veritable nonchalance one could read a novel. As we strolled along toward Edward's, my mind sorted through the options. Perhaps it was some sort of girlish prank, an outgrowth of a sorority rivalry that had caused this chasm to form, and it was this breach into which I had been stuffed. Then it suddenly became obvious that it must have been a man who had fostered this by his own doing or theirs. And given the attitudes demonstrated so vividly, my nod went to Martha as the victor. And that matter of selection made me empathize with Amelia all the more, seeing how her waters ran much deeper than Martha had ever plumbed.

"I've been amazed at how your business has grown," Martha complimented Amelia. "You have such lovely things. I know my neighbors, the Libbey's, are frequent customers of yours. Katie is constantly showing off some new piece that she has added from your store."

“They obviously have great taste,” I added, with a smile toward Amelia.

“They are favorites of mine, although he has something of a wandering eye,” Amelia remarked. “And she is such a very sweet lady.”

“I know all about the eyes, seeing that their dining room looks out onto my sun porch,” Martha chuckled. “I know I’ve given him more than an eyeful in the past.”

Martha squeezed my arm after she spoke and sent a sly glance my way, to which I paid little heed. I was glad that we had rounded the corner and come face to face with the door leading to Edward’s Café. Inside, the charming hostess surveyed the room quickly and lead us toward a quiet, cozy booth. Looking about and noticing an empty table and chairs, I asked if we might have that instead to avoid having to choose sitting between one or the other.

“Well, now, isn’t this lovely?” I said, taking my seat after the ladies had theirs. “Since you two both must know this place better than I, what is the house specialty?”

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

As we walked along, making small talk about my business and Martha's friends, I was conscious of Denny's hand on my elbow. My heart was beating so hard, I envisioned it popping from my chest with each thump, it's tiny heart-shape pulling against my bodice. I had missed him. I had missed his voice and his touch and his rugged good looks.

Martha continued twittering on about some nonsensical stuff as I thought about her and our relationship. We grew up together. She was the first person I had met in Kindergarten. I found her hiding in the corner, tears streaking down her face as she realized her mother had left her in this strange place. I remember sitting beside her and telling her that I would take care of her, that she was no longer alone. We spent the first day together, holding hands, infusing my courage to her through our tightly gripped fingers.

We were best friends. Then the name Ammee was an endearment and I called her Mar. We were inseparable. She lived in the same neighborhood. Her dad worked at the Mill alongside mine. Our mothers approved of our friendship. Both of us were only children and felt we had found a sister of our own.

As the years passed, we remained best friends. Then we started High School. Suddenly shy Martha came into her own. She was involved in every popular club or event. She became a cheerleader and Class Sweetheart. I was busy too, but with esoteric pursuits. The Literary Club. The Chess Club. While I ran the Student Council, she ran the Prom Committee. Our paths
diverged.

Then Jack moved to Scottsville. And Jack noticed me. He followed me and courted me and asked me out on a date. He was so wonderful, perfect for a shy girl like me. He was tender and gentle and made me feel very safe. We walked around the school, poster children for young love. We had our own world, content to just be together. Except Martha noticed Jack and wanted him for her own. She found it hard to believe he would be interested in me when he could be with her. So, suddenly, she was my best friend again and Jack and I had to share our time with her. Always. Jack was too polite to tell her to go away, and I was unable to do it. Consequently, we became the most innocent of threesomes.

It might have gone on longer, but my mother became ill. I had to put my life and Jack on hold to take care of her. Martha swooped into the void and took Jack from me, offering him things I could not. Companionship, fun, and, most importantly, sex.

A few months later, she claimed a pregnancy and Jack married her. Surprisingly, the pregnancy never materialized, but my sweet Jack was already in the marriage and had too much integrity to walk away. So, he stayed. Until Martha decided she didn't want him and left. Jack moved after that, having decided he couldn't wait for me and his prospects in the small town were limited.

Martha spent the next 20 years doing the same thing. Seeing what she wanted and taking it, then abandoning it when she grew bored. It was her method, her life. Sometimes, alone in my house at night, I wondered how we could have been friends at all.

Now we were sitting in a restaurant, being civil to each other, with another man we both had an interest in. My first instinct was to just bow out quietly and let Martha have him, she probably would anyway. Then I thought of how important Denny had become to me, and I vowed to fight for him. This time Martha McAllister had met her match.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

I was curious about the change that came over Amelia as we sat with Martha McAllister discussing the menu at Edward’s Café and commenting on the décor. I could see her eyes scrutinize each move, each twitch and blink of Martha and then gaze back at me as if measuring my reaction. True enough Miss McAllister was an easy treat for the eyes to lick up, all sleek and blonde and blue-eyed, her warm casual smile and shapely body with a delicious dusting of freckles. But somehow I got the impression that the beguiling appearance was about all one would have if they choose to take her home to mama. Father might approve, but mother would give you one of those looks.

As I told them that I had decided on the salmon filet with sautéed pine nuts, dried cherries, and glazed baby carrots, I watched as they talked between themselves critiquing each other’s potential selections, each one trumping the other’s comment with something stinging or sometimes even revealing. Finally, Martha spoke her mind.

“I’m going to have the Chicken Caesar salad,” she proclaimed proudly. “Edward uses only the finest olive oil to sauté the chicken and a real tasty seasoning.”

“The best one can shake from a jar of Lawry’s” Amelia shot back. “As good as that sounds, I think I’m going to have the Trout Almondine. This is the peak of the summer season when it is usually the freshest and sweetest.”

“You know, I was thinking of ordering that, but go ahead,” Martha recanted. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” She stirred her iced tea and took a look sensuous sip, her big blue eyes gazing directly at me. “I’ve been trying to pry out of Denty some of the details of his law practice,” Martha added. “But he is such a man of mystery, it almost makes a girl think he’s breaking the law.”

“I’m sure that if it were important that he would tell you,” Amelia replied, her mouth curled into an impish smile. “Besides, one shouldn’t pry about matters of lawyer-client privilege. Isn’t that right, Denny?”

I nodded with a smile, noticing Amelia’s full round cheeks for the first time and feeling a nearly unquenchable desire to pinch them. She truly was a sweet lady with an innocent charm that I found greatly appealing. A feeling arose inside me that something had happened during her trip, for there was something different about her, something that I couldn’t quite put my hands about. Maybe it was just the challenge that Martha represented. Or maybe it was just her own charming personality coming to the fore.

“There is only so much that I can share outside of the courtroom my dear,” I said trying not to sound too patronizing. With that said, our waitress, a plump but lovely young woman named Naomi descended upon us and gathered up our orders.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

I wanted, more than anything, for this lunch to end. What folly! To spend time, any time, with a woman who had always been my rival, who had taken the one man who actually noticed me. Now, history seemed to be repeating itself. A happy threesome. Denny, Martha and me. From her simpering looks, I could tell she felt she had made some serious inroads into seducing him, taking him away from all the female citizens of Scottsville, and making him her very own.

I just didn't feel up to it anymore. She handily took Jack from me, offering him sexual treats and constant availibility. Now she was doing the same with Denny. I watched her possessively holding his arm, batting her lashes, making small comments that caused Denny to almost blush. I was not sure what happened, but apparently, they already shared some history.

My mind was a mass of thoughts, my heart was aching already at the loss of Denny. He was the first male to actually notice me, to actually touch me and make me feel womanly. Now, it seemed he had made Miss Martha feel womanly also.

As I tuned into the conversation, Martha was mentioning a late night with Denny, about spending time on her porch and how much she appreciated his chivalry in her time of need.

I couldn't stand it anymore, and excused myself from the table. I picked up my purse, originally heading for the ladies room, but changing my mind midway, and starting for the entrance. I left him to Martha, left him to her cloying ways and limpid blue eyes, feeling satisfaction that along with the excellent Chicken Caesar salad, Martha had also had a healthy dose of garlic.

As I moved quickly down the street to my shoppe, craving the safety of my workroom, I felt my eyes tearing. Why did Martha have to want everything I did? Was I destined to spend the rest of my life, watching her snap up everything my own heart yearned for?

I was so involved in my own thoughts, it took me a few seconds to realize someone was beside me, holding my arm. I turned to see Denny, his face full of concern, walking alongside me, holding me close.

Without a word, he walked me to my shoppe, waiting patiently while my trembling hands unlocked the door. He followed me inside, leading me to the shelter of my workroom. He turned me to him, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close to his chest. The delicious scent of him filled my nostrils, his warmth filled my body with need. I raised my head to say something to him. His mouth covered mine, his tongue taking easy possession of my own, his lips soft and demanding at the same time, filling me with an ache that I wanted sated.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

I watched with curiosity as our lunchtime conversation continued, not missing a single comment from Miss McAllister, who seemed to mention at every chance the fact that we had shared an evening together the week before. With every exaggerated reference, Amelia began to grow more sullen. At first her spirited comments had amused and delighted me, but the growing discomfort evident in her expression distressed me. If there was a fight going on, Amelia was certainly in the lead and I wanted in some sort of primal way to see her fight back.

“And Denty was so kind to walk me home,” Martha went on. “It was so romantic. I’ve never known such a gentlemen.”

Suddenly Amelia let out a huge sigh, stood up and clutched her purse. “Excuse me,” she said before heading in the direction of the restroom.

Martha turned to me and smiled sweetly. “Oh, goody, I finally have you all to myself,” she giggled.

Then I saw Amelia change directions and head toward the front door.

“Not for long,” I remarked. “Will you excuse me? This should cover lunch,” I said tossing a couple of twenties on the table before setting out to follow the escaping Miss Nelsen.

I caught up to her just a few doors around the corner. I took her arm and was about to ask her what happened, but then she looked at me, her eyes damp with tears, and I simply escorted her to her shop. Once safely in her workroom, she turned to me, her dark eyes filled with desire and a hurt longing that was irresistible to me. When she went to speak, I kissed her words away, my tongue reaching out to tell her in its own silent way that she was a desirable woman despite the catty taunting comments of Miss McAllister.

Her arms swept up around my shoulders and she pressed her body against mine. My hands had slipped around her waist and now reached down to her hips and boosted her up onto the worktable. I swept away the cans of varnish remover and brushes and rags and leaned forward into her wet passionate kisses. My hands raised up her skirt and my fingers ran along the length of her soft tender thighs, her hose and garters and up to her dainty panties. They continued up past the folds of her skirt and cupped her heaving breasts. I could easily feel her taut nipples protruding through the thin fabric of her clothes.

“Oh, Denny,” she called out softly, her body pressing so willingly and wildly against mine.

I could have taken Amelia right then and there, and certainly most men would have, particularly given her heated willingness. But as I brought my hands up to her shoulders and opened my eyes to our surroundings, I realized that this was not appropriate for something that felt as inevitable as it was desired.

“I’m sorry, Amelia. This is not right,” I said looking away from her unbelieving gaze. “There is a time and place and this is neither,” I said looking back to her as I backed away. I helped her back down from the workbench and she fussed with her hair for a moment, her flushed face wracked with confusion. “I’ll call on you tonight.”

I smiled but knew that it was not to her satisfaction, so I leaned forward and kissed her begging lips softly and gently and lovingly. Then I exited her shop and hurried up to my office to get ready for my afternoon appointment.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

When Denny left, I went to the washroom and bathed my flushed face with cold water, hoping it would help me to calm down and catch my breath. For nearly forty years, I had been dependable Amelia Nelsen, trustworthy, bland, and, yes, dull. Now, in only a few months, i had become a woman of needs and passions, kissing men and loving it. I was not above pressing my body against the man of my affections, not shy about letting my needs and desires be known. I stared at my reflection and saw the face of a woman who had been seriously kissed. My lips were puffy and pink, tender and fragile. My cheeks still burned red, my eyes seemed to be melting with warmth and passion. Ah, Denny! Even now, I could hear him overhead, bustling around, preparing for the afternoon appointment. Suddenly, I didn't care if a beautiful woman was about to enter the staircase and sashay to his office. I didn't care that she would be there exactly one hour, and there was always a few silent minutes before she left, which always indicated to me that there was hugging taking place. I didn't care what happened this afternoon, because Denny was calling on ME tonight!

I returned to the workroom, donning once again the ratty smock, and began gently oiling the old wood that had been so badly treated. Whimsically, I thought of myself as the oak before me, ignored over time, allowed to dry and wither, losing all shine and appeal. And now, Denny was revitalizing me, gently rubbing and polishing me, making my inner glow evident to all who cared to observe. I felt warm, soft, cared-for by that darling man.

The afternoon passed quickly. It seemed that I had just started singing "Into the Woods" when the antique clock chimed 5:00.
Time to close up the shoppe and go home. Time to go home and prepare for Denny, my sweet man, who was calling on me tonight!

I suppose I walked normally on the way home, but I felt I was floating. Thoughts of Denny, his charming ways, his lilting voice, filled my head. It would be an untruth to say I did not think of his warm, persuasive lips or his soft, gentle hands. Today, when he bent to kiss me and lifted me onto the worktable, I totally surrendered to him. It took moments for me to realize that he had pulled away, and moments more for me to understand that Denny, my Denny, was calling on me tonight!

At home, I was too excited to eat. I went directly to my room, checking my wardrobe for the perfect thing to wear tonight. I wanted to be attractive, but sexy for Denny. Sadly, I did not have the experience almost every other woman seems to have in dressing to please a man. I undressed, looking at myself in the mirror, trying to see myself as Denny would.

I am short, small, but shapely. I have a nice body for a woman of my years, pert breasts that seemed to defy the aging process, firm skin with a warm tan, and eyes that tell everything in my heart.

I have run my bath, adding a scoop of soft vanilla crystals, and the scent fills the air as I assess myself. I finally select a soft evening pajama set, the color of sterling roses, my favorite. I had purchased a tiny lace bra and bikini in the same shade, trying to deny the fact that now I purchased my lingerie with Denny in mind. After setting out my clothes, I went to the bath, sliding slowly down into the warm water, allowing myself to just close my eyes and dream as I let my tension soak away.

Later, warm from my bath, I dress and prepare myself for the evening ahead, when Denny is calling on me! I dress in my lacy lingerie, again seeing myself as Denny will. The pajamas drape softly on my body, the color so dreamy and gossamer against my olive complexion. Brushing my hair into place, I am ready for my gentleman caller, my Denny.

In the kitchen, I open wine, pouring myself a glass. I carry it to the veranda, sipping as I wait for Denny. I am curled into the rocking chair, and the wine is quickly affecting my mind. Too late, I realize I haven't eaten today and that I am becoming slightly tipsy.

Just as I decide to go get a small snack, Denny opens the gate and walks up to the porch, smiling warmly at me as he climbs the steps.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

Meagan Bonnell, my afternoon appointment, lingered by the door, her long fingers plying along the edge of the folder of documents I had prepared for her. Her shoulder length auburn hair, a luscious shade of chestnut, fanned out around her face as her head tilted from side to side. Her green-blue eyes flashed with indecision as her left foot tapped the floor. My eyes wandered up the leg of her snug blue jeans, made shapelier by the long well toned legs inside. The sliver of tanned flesh at her waist was framed on top by the hem of her long-sleeved cotton jersey top, a lovely peacock color, the deep-vee neckline and cinch detail accentuating her perfect full breasts. When I looked again at her face, the lovely trim jaw line, the full rosy mouth, the pert little nose, the high-rounded cheekbones, I saw that the indecision had melted from her face.

“So what do you think?” I asked her, in a low pressure-free voice.

“I’m going to go for it, Mr. Willis,” she said, her voice charged with emotion. “I don’t care what the others say. I’m going to do it!”

“Good,” I replied slipping my butt off the edge of my desk and taking a step toward her. “You will not regret this in the least bit.”

“This feels awesome,” she exclaimed, reaching out to hug me effusively. “I just know this is right.”

“Read these over carefully and sign them where I’ve indicated with an ‘X’ and bring them back on your next appointment on Friday.”

“I will,” she said composing herself and clutching the folder tightly. “Thank you so much.”

She stepped back and gave me a gorgeous smile, and then slipped out the door, the scent of her Gio perfume still thick in the air. She was so young and full of life and never failed to bring a smile to my face. I turned back to my desk and began to bring some order to the chaos that was strewn across the desktop.

After an hour of paperwork and a few phone calls my workday had come to an end and I thought of my appointment with Amelia. The sound of her music had long ceased and I assumed that she had left early. Exiting the landing outside the rear door of her shop confirmed my conclusion.

I walked up town to take dinner at Emily’s and then walked back down wandering along the main street staring idly into the shop windows as I went. I had thought of getting into line at Roscoe’s for a hand dipped scoop of their homemade ice cream but then thought that Amelia might want to walk downtown and delayed that choice. As I turned open the gate and mounted the stairs, it was plain to see by the way that she was dressed, sitting in her wicker rocker that she has something quite different in mind.

“G’ evening, Amelia,” I said as I reached her porch. “You are looking quite lovely tonight.”

“Hello, Denny,” she answered, her face blushing gently. “Thank you. I was about to get a snack. What can I get for you?”

“Well, I’ve just had dinner and the thought of some ice cream on such a warm evening has a certain allure.”

“I have a fresh pint of mint chocolate chip to share if you’d like?” she offered, and quickly excused herself inside returning promptly with a little antique dessert tray with two silver dishes filled with ice cream. She set the tray down on a table, lifted up one bowl and spoon and handed them to me, her smile enchanting in a genuinely charming coy manner. Taking the other bowl and spoon, she took a seat on the porch swing and invited me to sit beside her. We were sheltered from the street behind the wisteria and holly bushes, yet the sound of the crickets was penetrating and the balmy night air carried every luscious scent of late summer’s flowers.

“Mmm, this is very good,” I said, savoring the minty cream as it glazed down my palate. Although it was a rather ordinary compliment and certainly not my best, Amelia’s cheek reddened and her eyes looked down and away. “You didn’t have to bring out your best.”

“But you bring it out in me, Denny,” she replied.

“Good. I’m glad to see that,” I replied. “But about this afternoon, I …”

“I understand,” she said cutting in. “Time and place being what they are.”

“Actually, I meant our luncheon today,” I said. “I want to apologize for putting you in such a position. “It was awfully presumptuous of Miss McAllister to insinuate herself into things like that. But then, that is something that surely you know more about than I.”

“She has always been that way, Denny, always trying to take over and make everything and everyone her own,” Amelia said sadly. “I don’t blame you.”

“Amelia, I was concerned about this afternoon when you turned and ran,” I went on. “You know that you cannot run away and hide from every challenge. Sometimes you have to stand and fight for what you know is rightfully yours. I do that in a very civilized manner for each of my clients. Perhaps that is why Miss Martha acts the way she does. No one ever stands her down.”

My spoon had reached the bottom of the empty dish and I reached forward to set it on the tray. Amelia finished hers daintily and did the same. For several moments we sat together, exchanging only looks and cute little smiles.

“I will not fight her for you, Denny,” she said finally. “I will not fight anyone for anything. It is not my nature.”

“You will not fight for this?” I asked, reaching over to touch her cheek and draw her face toward mine. I leaned over and kissed her soft full lips, still cool from the ice cream. Parting her lips with my tongue, I whirled it gently around her lips, and sought out her tongue. I felt her press forward in response and let my hand slip down from her cheek, my fingers grazing along the length of her neck. As they slipped down underneath the lapel of her pajamas, and danced lightly on the warm skin they found, she sighed and pulled back.

“I cannot be what I am not, Denny,” she protested.

“Nor can I, nor am I asking you to be so,” I replied.

Her hand moved around my neck and pulled me suddenly toward her, her lips were warm now and wet with passion. Her kiss was bold and excited and invited my hand to continue its southward path. Unfastening the top button, I eased my fingertips down along the tiny strap of her bra and my palm alighted on the upper curve of her breast. When our kiss broke, she pulled back, her eyes heavy lidded and her breathing lighter and faster, not unlike my own.

“I am only asking you to take charge of what rightfully belongs to you,” I added. I leaned forward and we kissed again, my hand shifting down farther to cup her breast and feel her stiff nipple press through the thin fabric of her bra and into my palm.

“Well, well, well,” rang out a voice from the street. “What have we here?” It was Martha, strolling up the front walk, dressed in what obviously was some sort of designer jogging attire, which actually showed some signs of being used, given the warm evening and her glistening skin.

“Hello Martha,” Amelia called out coolly. “I guess they all come out at night.”

“Hello, Ammie,” she answered. “And you too, Denty.”

I had withdrawn my hand from Amelia and turned to face this newcomer. Certain that she couldn’t have seen anything truly incriminating; I could see that Martha wore the look of one who had seen something.

“Well, I was just getting ready to leave,” I said standing up from the swing. “I’ll see you tomorrow in your shop?” I said leaning over to kiss Amelia on the cheek. “Goodnight, dear lady.”

“Goodnight, Denny,” she replied, surprised but smiling, and giving my hand a squeeze before I stepped away.

As I passed Martha on the way toward the street, she turned, hands on hips.

“Oh, Denny,” she asked in a cloying sing-songy voice. “Would you like to walk me home?”

“Not tonight, my dear,” I replied, realizing that her house was in the opposite direction of my office, from where I had to retrieve my car. “Besides, I don’t think I could keep up with you. That outfit of yours is far too fast for my taste.” I smiled and nodded to them both and hoped that Amelia saw the wink I sent in her direction. “Ladies, goodnight!”

When I was just a few steps down the street, I stole a look over my shoulder and saw the shadow of Martha jogging off in the general direction of her home. I whistled an unfamiliar tune, one perhaps that I had heard Amelia playing in her shop today.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

As Denny moved confidently onto the veranda, I couldn't help comparing him to Noah. They both had that quiet strength, that assured manner. Both were tall and ruggedly handsome. They were articulate and witty and funny, with amazing charm and warmth. Yet, Denny made my pulse race, my heart sing, my soul totally surrender. They were feelings I wanted to have for Noah, but I knew at this minute that I never would.

When Denny started speaking of Martha, I wanted to tell him my history with her, how she took Jack from me and lost him to me forever, but something made me hold my tongue. That was past, and now I was a different woman, one who knew what she wanted and was willing to risk her heart once more, to get the man she ached for.

When Denny took me into his arms and began kissing me with his minty, cold tongue, I knew I was bound to him. All I could think about was exploring him as he had explored me, touching and finding and pleasing. My hands slid into his thick hair, grasping his head close to mine. My sensible mind knew he was undressing me, but my womanly heart knew he was marking his territory. I could feel the heat in my body, the throb of my deepest place. I was totally surrendering to him, giving him consent to do anything he wanted.

As my mind clouded with passion, I heard the one voice I disliked the most. "Ammie!" I felt Denny pull away, felt the loss of his heat and his bulk, even felt the loss of his heart. But he remained close, surreptitiously closing my shirt, protecting me from Martha.

Suddenly, Denny was leaving and Martha was making one more attempt at spending the evening with him. As he walked away from me, he squeezed my hand slightly and smiled into my eyes. Then he was gone.

I picked up the silver tray with our empty bowls and walked inside. Apparently, the ice cream had not been enough, and I still felt tipsy. I poured myself another glass of the wine, and straightened my kitchen while sipping it. Michael Crawford sang softly on the CD player and the tears slipped down my cheeks as I imagined Denny and Martha wrapped together on HER porch.

I was so engrossed in the scene, I almost didn't hear the light knock on the door. I swayed slightly as I approached and peeked out the small security window. Denny stood before me, smiling as if he knew I was there.

I opened the door, stepping back without a word. He stepped into the room and held out his arms to me, slowly beginning to dance to one of my favorite songs, "The Story of My Life". He held me gently, his body so right against mine, my head resting above his loving heart, listening to the message he was sending. He tipped my face up, kissing me so thoroughly, all the while dancing me about my living room. As the song ended, he stepped away, bowed and walked out the door.

 

[Miltone]

Denton P. Willis

I wasn’t quite sure why I turned back to restate my goodnight to Amelia and afterwards not quite sure that it had any effect upon her or not though there was no doubt as to its effect on me. As I slowly returned to my office to the accompaniment of chirring crickets I pondered over the pure simple desire that she displayed toward me and whether it was right for me to be the one to take her virtue.

Were the other male residents too simple or single minded to see the passion brewing within her heart? Or were they all too busy doting on the obvious and superficial charms of the Martha McAllisters of their little town to see the true and honest beauty of this fine little woman? The answer to those questions was obvious, and yet my own concern still raged, for though I had grown terribly fond of Miss Amelia Nelsen, I also felt that her first would be her last and only, and I needed to be sure that of my own feelings in the matter. Breaking the heart of such a dear and fragile woman would grieve my own heart and sear my conscience. It was obvious that I needed to determine my own motives and intent.

Once in the quiet of my office, I poured some well-aged Kentucky bourbon into a glass of ice and worked at some lingering paperwork on which I had been procrastinating. I had taken on two new clients in the past two workdays and organized the action plans upon which I had settled. And by the time my desk was completely cleared, the evening and the bourbon were both gone. As I switched off the light and headed down the stairs, my heart and mind were still not decided on Miss Nelsen. And so it was that my evening ended and the rest of the week began.

 

[captivate]

Miss Amelia Nelsen

Denny left so suddenly, so quietly, I wondered if I had imagined the entire episode. I closed the door, leaving the porch light to burn brightly against the darkness, and began the usual night-time chores. Lamps off, doors locked, coffee ready to brew in the morning. My head still spun from the unaccustomed wine and I danced alone through my comfortable rooms.

In my bedroom, I removed my pretty satin pajamas, remembering Denny's hands on these very buttons, and wondered what would have happened if Martha hadn't run up just then. Would I be undressing for Denny now? Would he be standing before me, unbuttoning my clothes, reaching inside to feel my needy nipples and massage them? Would I finally be able to do for Denny what he had done for me? I closed my eyes and imagined him here, standing very still with that look in his eyes, as I carefully undressed the first male I would ever touch privately. Would he be proud or nervous or tentative? No, I imagine that my Denny would be gentle and calm and allow me all the time I needed to acclimate myself to this new activity.

I have never seen Denny dressed even casually, yet, I could imagine the look and feel of his private skin, his chest and back and bare arms. Even alone in my room, I did not dare to imagine more intimate flesh than that.

Lately, I had developed an enjoyment of feeling the soft sheets on my bare body, and tonight was no exception. I removed my pretty lingerie and slipped under the covers, my head whirling a bit from the wine as I settled my pillow nest around me. The night sounds filled the room and thoughts of Denny filled my head as I drifted off quickly to sleep.

Early Tuesday morning, the phone rang. Still enmeshed in a dream of dancing with Denny, I reached out a lanquid arm and sleepily said hello.

Noah's voice was warm and loving as he told me good morning. I smiled and fixed my pillows, lounging back and smiling as we began to talk easily. Then he invited me to breakfast. For a moment, it seemed possible, as if I were still at Belle's and I could join him for a meal.

Then I realized I was in Scottsville and that breakfast, really any meal, was out of the question. Noah chuckled at my obvious confusion. "Open the front door, Amelia, and invite me into your home!"

I dropped the phone and slipped into a robe, hurrying to the living room. Once again, I peeked through the security window, this time, seeing Noah's handsome face framed there.

He took me into his strong arms, holding me a moment longer than necessary, then laughingly releasing me, chiding me that we would never get to breakfast if I didn't get some clothes on. It was only then I remembered that I was naked under my robe.

I hurried to my room, suddenly wondering how I looked. In the mirror, my reflection was smiling. My cheeks were flushed from the surprise of his visit, my curls tousled nicely around my face. I moved to the bathroom to brush my teeth and prepare for my day. At the closet, I chose a soft blue sundress, with an open back and full skirt. I had bought special underthings for this dress, and happily dressed in the lacy items, feeling quite womanly and happy. I slipped into strappy sandals and opened my bedroom door, the scent of fresh coffee filling my head.

Walking to the kitchen, I paused in the doorway, watching Noah as he moved around the room, looking so right there, so comfortable. As if sensing me there, he turned and smiled, holding out his hand to me. I met him halfway across the room, suddenly delighted to have him here with me.

Noah leaned down and kissed me lightly, then the kiss grew deeper and even more enjoyable. I moved into him, feeling his arms encircle me and pull me close. I breathed his scent, listened to his racing heart and smiled up at him.

"Let's go have breakfast and then I will show you my town," I said.

Then I led him out the door and to Emily's, just down the street from my shoppe.