At Grace's place

I wanted to shower before seeing Grace, so by the time I got there, she would have been drinking and masturbating for almost an hour, if my plan had indeed worked. She opened the door wearing a loosely-tied robe over a thin spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of plain panties.

“Ron?” she said, squinting at me through the cracked door. Then opening the door wide, she shouted, “Ron! Come in! I'm so glad you're here.” I was glad to see everything had worked perfectly. She was drunk, horny, and surprised to see me. “Lemme getcha a...a...glass of somethin',” she offered, making her way to the kitchen. I closed the door and watched her go down the hall, keeping one hand on the wall to steady herself.

“No,” I answered. “No, I'm good. You should probably sit down.”

“Bahh,” dismissed, waving her hand at me. “S'fine.” But she made her way to the sofa nonetheless. Dropping into the soft cushions, she waved me over. I sat tentatively on the arm rest at the opposite end of the couch – about 6 feet away. But Grace leaned forward, grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled me closer.

“Siddown!” she demanded. “What're you doing here?”

“I, uh...” I didn't have an answer for that. Thankfully, I didn't need one.

“Nevermind why. It's serrin-... serradimpi-... It's...”

“Serendipitous?” I offered with an amused look. I'd never seen Grace really drunk before.

“It's a happy coincidence,” she affirmed.

“Why is that?” I asked, knowing what she was thinking, but curious to see how it played out.

Grace opened her mouth to answer, then thought better of it, then just shook her head and exhaled loudly.

“Because I don't like to drink alone,” she said. “Some things are better with a partner. Much...much better with a partner.”

“Let me get a glass,” I said, and headed to the kitchen. I filled a glass with water – not wanting to be drunk for what was going to happen. I had been hard since the moment I knocked on Grace's door. I was fighting the urge to simply command her to fuck me right away. It was way more fun setting up the scenario and letting her make it all happen.

“Cheers,” I said, clinking glasses with Grace when I returned to the couch. This time, I sat next to her.

“Cheers,” she replied with a smile, then looked at the clear liquid in my glass. “Vodka?” she asked. I nodded. We both took our shots – mine of water, hers of... well, if the half empty bottle on the floor was any indication, Scotch. We toasted our friendship and drank, we toasted Henri and drank, we toasted our alma mater and drank. Then, when the conversation lulled, Grace looked at me and pouted. “You interrupted me,” she accused.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You interrupted me when you showed up,” she explained. “I was.. I was busy, and you ruined it.”

I knew what she had been busy doing. “I was busy and I was almost finished when you got here,” she said. Little did she know she wasn't going to finish no matter what time I had showed up.

“Grace, I'm so sorry. But don't let me stop you. I can wait while you finish... whatever you were doing.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment, then laughed. “Noooooo. That would be... a little weird.”

“Go ahead and continue where you left off,” I said, not meaning to give a command. But it had been given, and so without hesitation, Grace put her hand inside her panties and started a slow rubbing motion. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, she gasped and started moving her hips. After watching for a few minutes, I cleared my throat. That startled Grace for a second, but then she regarded me through slightly open eyes.

“Hey, uh...Ron?” she whispered. “Since you're here, do you think maybe...maybe you could help me... you know. Let off a little steam?”

Funny, she was using almost the exact words I had commanded, even though she had forgotten the commands themselves.

“I'd be happy to help,” I said softly. As quietly and as gently as I could, I slipped off my pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. “Let's get this robe off you,” I said, slipping a hand under the robe and onto her shoulder. Grace flinched at first, but then let me slip the robe off her body. I could see the dark spots of her aureole under her thin tank top, and I ran my hand slowly down her side, briefly cupping the side of her breast. She was bigger than I had suspected, having only seen her dress modestly. Even at the beach she had chosen to wear a top that didn't betray her form. Now I saw what she had hidden from me for years.

“I don't know if-” she started,but I hushed her by saying, “you're just blowing off some steam, that's all. You're OK with that. You can trust me. You need this.” With each phrase, her comfort and conviction seemed to grow.

“I do need this,” she mumbled, breath reeking of ****. But then she suddenly seemed to sober up. “Henri!” she gasped and looked at me in confusion. I was running out of patience. We weren't going to get where I wanted to be through gentle suggestion and trying to make her lead the way. Not this time, at least. She was too loyal to Henri.