The Conception Deception Ch. 03

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Life went mostly back to normal after that. I worked, I hung out with Marco, I occasionally met up with some buddies, and every other day or so, I would run into Claire. Usually it would be in the parking lot or at the mailboxes. Our interactions were polite and neighborly, but nothing too friendly. We never stopped to talk other than to say a quick hello.

I did some more thinking about that electric bass in my closet and decided I needed to add something to my life. One night, about a week or so after my fourth night with Claire, I pulled the bass out, cleaned it up, and ordered some new strings. I plugged it into my amp, just to make sure both of them still worked. I got some sound, which was good, but I really needed those new strings before I could play. Still, I plucked out a few old riffs and was surprised how naturally some of the motions came back to my fingers. I printed out a simple flyer to hang around the neighborhood and some other areas I frequented: Bass player looking for some musicians to jam with. Nothing serious, just some fun times sharing good music. Many styles. I put my number at the bottom and printed out a few dozen, then didn’t think much more about it once Monday rolled around.

About two weeks after our first series of efforts, Claire texted me a frowny face and a message that said, “Try again,” followed by a range of dates two weeks from then. I had mixed feelings, but I had steeled up my nerves enough to determine that I would at least have sex- real sex- with her once before letting my conscience take over. In some ways, though, that was probably a lot worse on the sleazebag scale.

I had dinner with Marco and his family again, and once we were alone on his deck, he said quietly, “So…how’s it going with your neighbor?”

I shrugged and said, “OK, I guess. It didn’t take last time, so we’ll be trying again in a couple of weeks.”

“Can I just reiterate that…”

“No,” I cut him off. “I know it’s f-…it’s messed up,” I said, changing my wording as one of the kids ran past. “But I need this right now. A little no-strings-attached release every month so that my hormones aren’t clouding my judgment when I’m looking around. At least now I’m not tempted to go out looking for one night stands that I can try to persuade to stick around.”

Marco leaned back and smiled, “You actually have a bit of a point there. I’ll be damned.” Then leaning back in and lowering his voice, he said, “But I still feel in my gut that someone’s going to get hurt. This just isn’t natural.”

“Maybe, but it’s working fine for now. And I’m ready to pull out at the first sign of trouble,” I assured him.

Marco smirked and said, “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want you pulling out, bro.”

It took a second or two for it to register, but once I caught his meaning, I just groaned and stood up. The kids were hollering about a frog they’d cornered, which gave me an excuse to shift gears for a bit. I walked down to check out the excitement as Marco went inside to help Becca clean up.


Over the next few days, I got at least a dozen calls about my bass ad, but almost all of them were bands looking for a bass player, or else people hoping to start a band. I wondered if I hadn’t been clear enough on my sign- I just wanted to jam, not perform. I finally expressed that frustration to one drummer that had called, and he said, “Man, you find yourself the right group of people and it don’t make a difference. Jam, perform, it’s all the same. Only difference is how many people in the room aren’t playing along.”

I thanked him for his opinion and wished him luck. Apparently bass players were a rarity in this area. That Saturday, I got a call from Claire. We weren’t scheduled to meet up for another 5 days, so I was curious what she wanted.

“Hey Claire,” I answered, stepping out of the shower stall I was trying to fix in my master bath.

“Wha…who is this?” she said.

“Claire, it’s Russell. Did you call the wrong number?”

“Russell? Get out of here! Are you the guy who plays bass?” she asked, sounding very surprised.

“The ad? Yeah, that’s me. Are you calling about that?”

“Small world,” she said distantly. “Yeah, I was just looking for some people to play with. I need some motivation to keep me playing piano. I thought if I had some other folks around…But I don’t want to perform or anything…”

I laughed into the phone, “Well, that’s about where I’m at, too. I haven’t played in years. I just got my bass all ready to go, but I can’t find anyone that doesn’t want to start a band.”

After a few seconds of silence, she said, “I guess…just…let me know if anything comes together. I can’t really move my keyboard easily, but I’ve got a good place to use for a jam session. You’re right above me, the storage sheds are below, and the next door neighbors are gone most of the time. So we probably wouldn’t bother anyone.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll let you know if anyone else is interested.”

“Cool…sooo…still canlı bahis on for Thursday?”

“Planning on it. Usual time?”

“Yeah…around 7 or 8, OK?”

“Call me if I’m not there by 8. I’ll try not to fall asleep, though.”

She laughed, “OK, Russell. See you later.”



Thursday rolled around, and I stayed out working as long as I could. I knew how anxious and horny I’d be once I got home and had to wait until 7. I got back at 6, which gave me enough time to eat and shower before heading down. A few minutes after 7, I knocked on Claire’s door. She didn’t answer at first, so I knocked louder. I heard a thumping approach the door, then Claire’s voice came through, “Russell?”


The door opened with Claire behind it. I stepped in and she quickly shut the door behind me. Claire was soaking wet, with a towel around her.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you this early. Go ahead back, I’m almost done.” With that, she ran back to the bathroom, where I could hear the shower running. A few minutes later, Claire came in the room, still in her towel, and grabbed a few articles of clothing. I sat in the chair and watched her flit about. She stepped back out of the room for a minute, then came back in. She was in a t-shirt and jogging shorts, a bath towel swirled up over her head, holding her hair. I noticed that she didn’t have on her custom-made trap door pants, and I wondered what that might mean for the evening.

“Any more takers on the music flyer?” she asked, moving around the room to set things up for her evening in front of the TV.

“One, actually. Some guy that plays hand drums. Not sure what a piano, bass, hand drum combo would be like, but it could be fun to try.”

She looked up thoughtfully and just said, “Hmm…” Then undoing the towel, she vigorously rubbed her hair dry. When she was done, she said, “Well, just keep me posted. Evenings and weekends are generally free.”

I said something vaguely agreeing, but my mind was still stuck on how she planned to “work up to sex” this week. Plus, I had a view of her bare legs for the first time. They were sleek and thin, but not bony. Her shorts were loose, so I couldn’t see that wonderful curved area where legs meet ass. But if we were going to do what we needed to do that night, those shorts would need to come off at some point.

“I was shaving my legs,” she said, snapping me out of my daze.

“Huh?” I grunted in surprise.

“My legs. You were staring. I was shaving them when you showed up.”

“Ohh. Sorry about staring. You look…very nice,” I said, looking back at her thighs.

“Are you talking to me or to my legs?” she teased.

I smiled and embarrassed smile and looked at her eyes. “Both,” I said, confidently.

“Handsome and a sweet talker. You’ve got a bright future with the ladies, Russell.” Then sitting on the bed, she put a hand on the mattress and leaned her weight on it. “So here’s what I’m thinking for tonight…”

My eyes darted back to hers. She had my attention.

“If we’re going to end up having sex this week, I need to be comfortable around you. So while you’re using your hand to get yourself ready, I’m going to be using this,” she held up a small vibrator, about the size of a thumb, “to get myself off. So I’ll be taking these off,” she said, tugging at the waistband of her shorts, “and lying down next to you. You can touch my legs all you want, but only my legs…tonight. Once you’re close, we do like usual. OK?”

“Sounds good,” I said, feeling my gut tingle with excitement.

“Did you actually hear what I said, or were you too busy staring at my body?”

“Only touch the legs, finish like usual,” I summarized, then added, “Did you remember the lube this time?”

“Shouldn’t need it, if I’m bringing in reinforcements,” she said, waving the vibrator around. “OK? I’m going to turn down the lights. Go ahead and get comfortable…you can take off your pants if you want.”

I paused to make sure I’d heard her correctly, then slipped my pants off, dropping them on the floor next to the bed. Claire turned off the light and walked back to the other side of the bed. The glow from the TV gave enough light for me to see her pull down her shorts and step out of them. As she climbed on the bed, she looked at me. I had been watching her every move as I stroked myself. She smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t even,” I said. “You cannot expect me not to look. You know you’re hot, don’t you?”

“So I’ve been told,” she said, wiggling into a comfortable position and closing her eyes. I heard a click and a buzz as Claire’s hand moved between her legs. I slowed down my stroking, wanting to make sure I wasn’t finished first. I needn’t have worried. Before I even had a chance to touch her, only a few seconds after she started, Claire convulsed next to me, her back arching and her legs clenching. I saw her toes curl and uncurl and heard her gasping. She settled down again after a few seconds, then said very softly, bahis siteleri her eyes still closed, “The first one always happens quick.”

I laughed softly. The first one? I began to wonder how long I could draw out this contract before she got suspicious and called it off. Or before my conscience overruled my lust.

In the meantime, I decided to take advantage of the liberties being offered me. As my right hand pumped my shaft at a steady pace, my left hand reached over and touched Claire’s thigh. She flinched at the touch, but only out of surprise, I think. I scooted down a bit so that I had a greater range of motion, allowing me to run my hand from her hip all the way to her calf. I tried to run up and down both legs, front at back, hardly noticing the effect it was having on me. Or on her.

After a few more minutes, Claire convulsed again. This time, her whole upper body came up off the bed and she cried out softly. She pulled the vibrator away and pushed my hand off of her. Her legs were squeezed tight and her breath rasped and gasped. When she pushed my hand away, she didn’t let go of it, but instead gripped and squeezed it in sync with her body’s jerks. I watched in fascination, speeding up my strokes. I had planned to stretch this out for a while, but after that display, I was almost on the edge.

Climbing over her, I didn’t even need to warn her. Claire felt my movements and spread her legs. I quickly lined myself up and pushed in. With no need for lube or patience, I sank in deep. Four or five strokes later, I held deep and released. I wished I had been able to time it so that Claire came with me- I wanted to feel that exquisite tightness constricting around me. Hopefully we’d get to that at some point, but in the meantime, my own pulsing and throbbing was more than enough. I was resting over her with my elbows on the bed on either side of her breasts. I wanted to move my hands in and grab hold of her, but had just enough sense in me to resist that urge. Instead, I balled up my fists and gripped the sheets, trying to push even deeper. I thrust slowly a few more times, drawing out my pleasure.

Claire let me catch my breath for a minute before indicating I should pull out. I rolled to the side and exhaled loudly.

“Better?” Claire asked, facetiously, I assumed.

“Hell yeah,” I answered. “That’s more like it.”

“But still not sex?”

I thought for a second as she adjusted the pillow under herself. “Technically, I might call that sex. But that’s not what I’m wanting. You get that, right? This isn’t what comes to anybody’s mind when they hear the word ‘sex.'”

“I know, I know,” she said in mock frustration. “Too many clothes, not enough skin, not enough thrusting and grunting.”

“Well I’m sorry you don’t get anything out of it. I mean, using that vibrator must be such a painfully tedious process,” I said sarcastically.

“Hey, I don’t need you around to use this thing. I was even a little…reserved…tonight, because of my audience.”

“I just hope it’s helping. You’re serious about sex on Sunday?” I asked, wanting to make sure she wouldn’t try to put me off another month.

“As long as things go OK between now and then,” she said solemnly.

I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed, fishing around for my pants. “same time tomorrow?” I asked.

“Works for me,” she said. As I stood up, she said, “By the way, that show turned out to be pretty good. The first half of the episode was setting everything up, giving background on the main character, but it got better after that. You should watch it.”

“How far into the series did you get?” I asked casually.

“Only the one episode,” she answered. I looked at her questioningly and she said, “I thought you might want to watch the rest with me. I like talking about shows with people, but no one else I know is watching this one.”

I looked towards the TV, “Is this…?”

“It’s the first one again, if you want to stick around. If not, I’ll go on to the second one.”

I stood still for a moment, considering the implications of staying. Realizing I might be over-thinking it, I said, “Let me use the bathroom real quick and grab a drink from your kitchen.”

“OK,” she smiled, scooting her body a little bit more to the edge of the bed, making more room for me on the other side.


Claire was right- the show got better. We watched two episodes that night before I had to head home. It was getting warmer during the days, so I was trying to start work earlier, getting most of the outside work done before lunch. Sitting on the bed watching TV with Claire was…normal, uneventful. We didn’t touch and I wasn’t even really tempted to. It felt like hanging out with a sister or cousin, except for the fact that I had just tried to get this woman pregnant.

The show was a detective drama, with minor cases in each episode tied together by one big plot that was slowly revealed. It was fun to swap theories afterwards and just talk the way normal bahis şirketleri people talk. I really started to wish Claire and I had met under different circumstances, just two neighbors getting to know each other. I think we could have been friends. As it stood, I didn’t think that could really happen now that we had the contract.

Friday was a typical workday, and I came home a little before 6, going through my usual routine of eating and showering before going to Claire’s. This time, I sent a text letting her know I’d be over in a few minutes, just so she wouldn’t be surprised again.

When I showed up, she met me at the door, this time wearing a short, loose nightgown. I hoped that meant what I thought it might. On the way back to the room, she said, “I’ll get straight to the point. The nightgown stays on, but your hands can go wherever they want to underneath it. Just not…you know, on my privates.”

“Really?” I asked, a bit confused. And who says ‘privates’?

“It may sound weird to you, but actually being fully naked feels like a bigger deal to me than letting a guy touch me. So one step at a time, OK? And it’s still open season on my legs.” As she said that, she lay back on the bed and spread her legs a bit, revealing that she was already naked from the waist down.

I shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Finishing the same way?”

“For tonight, yes.” Then reaching over to the nightstand, she picked up her vibrator and said cheerily, “And I’ll be having a little help again tonight.”

I pulled off my pants and joined her on the bed. “I sure enjoyed the help it gave last night, so I’m not complaining.”

She clicked on the vibrator and started rubbing around her lips. At first, I just watched, my hand on her leg. I rubbed very slowly up and down her thigh at first, then on one upstroke I kept going up. Up, under the nightgown, along her smooth stomach and into that space between her breasts. Just like the night before, her first orgasm was quick and small. Just as my hand rested in on her chest, Claire gasped and tensed up. Her shoulders came off the bed and her eyes went wide open for a second. Her legs squeezed together and her body rolled a little away from me. That only served to move her breast into my hand, and I cupped its soft weight as she trembled next to me.

I was so intent on watching and touching Claire that I was giving no attention to my cock, which was bouncing along with my pulse. Claire breathed deep and rolled onto her back again, and I used my free hand to grip my shaft. The angle I was laying in made it hard to move my arm, so I thrust my hips a little to provide the stimulation I needed. Truthfully, though, just watching and feeling her body would have been enough stimulation to get me close.

I moved my hand around her upper body, relishing the smoothness of her skin. Her breasts were small but well-suited to her size. When she lay on her back, they flattened out a little, making them little more than small bumps on her chest. I tried to picture them in my mind as I traced light circles around her nipples and felt them respond to my touch. Then moving back down to her stomach, I ran my palm down her rib cage and over to her far side. Pulling slowly back, I ended at the side closest to me, then quickly ran my hand back up her side, past her breast and onto her shoulder.

Claire started breathing faster as I moved my hand to the middle of her chest, just under her throat. I spread my fingers and moved my hand just up to her neck, resting it lightly under her chin before moving down between her breasts and onto her stomach. My own arousal was getting strong at that point, so I slowed down my strokes. Claire squeaked and convulsed a bit, resting again after a few seconds.

“Don’t…don’t finish yet,” she mumbled. “That was just a half-cum, not very satisfying. Let me get a good one first, if you can hold-off.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous,” I replied softly. I felt like I could do that all night, except that my balls would protest violently at some point.

“Thanks,” she sighed, moving her legs around a little. I began rubbing down her thigh again, then tracing lines from her knees all the way up to her shoulders and back again. Sometimes I’d do loops around her breasts or bellybutton, watching her face for some reaction. After a few minutes, her face was all reaction- plenty of winces and tics, her eyelids fluttering even while closed, her mouth moving into shapes ready to be words, then stopping again to gasp. She was obviously working up to her peak. Her free hand slipped between us and found my cock, which I had not been working. I moved my hand away from it and she gently held it, making a few soft strokes.

Just before she came, I slipped my arm all the way around her in a semi-embrace, feeling her breast on my forearm as I gripped her shoulder from behind. In that position, I was almost on top of her, and when she came, her head jerked forward and buried into my shoulder. She let go of my cock and grabbed my bicep and she twitched and trembled. Her cries were soft but intense, a breathy and rapid succession of “Oh! Oh! Oh!” ending with one prolonged and satisfied, “Oooohhhhhh…” as her head went back down to the pillow.

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