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Deja Vu by Ann Douglas (mf) 8/10
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: AnnD: REPOST: Deja Vu - (08/11) - mf
Date: Thu Jul 6 05:16:07 1995
Hi ...... As always, comments are both
appreciated and encouraged. Tell me what you
liked about the story and what you disliked. Don't
just say , "nice story" or "it stunk" I only ask
that you reply by e-mail instead of postings, that way
I'm sure to get your reaction. Any and all
email will always be answered.
Thanks,
Ann Douglas.
-DEJA VU-
Part Eight
by Ann Douglas
(AnnD@NYCPipeline.Com)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
By noon, the temperature had risen to 92.
Connie had replaced the light sundress with a once
piece bathing suit. After lunch she planned to take a
cold dip in the pool.
Carrying a tray of finger sandwiches and cold
drinks, Connie once more walked outside. Jack was
just packing away the last of his tools. He was dirty
and sweaty, a condition the older woman found very
erotic.
"You look like you could use a shower?"
Connie said as she placed the tray on the wooden
picnic table. Stepping under the shade of the wide
yellow umbrella caused the temperature to drop a
few degrees.
"I'd hate to track all this mess into your
house." Jack replied as he stepped up and picked up
one of the small bite sized snacks.
"Oh you don't have to worry about that."
Connie answered as she also nibbled at a sandwich.
"There's an outdoor shower over there by the pool
shed. You can wash up there."
"That's perfect, Mrs. D'Angelo." He said as
the last morsel disappeared into his mouth. "If you'll
excuse me, I'll wash this muck off before I get it all
over your clean chairs."
"Certainly, but if we're going to have lunch
together, I insist you call me Connie. Mrs. D'Angelo
sounds so old."
"Ok, Connie it is." Jack smiled. The same
devil may care smile she had seen in her dreams. "I'll
be right back."
Connie tried to not be too obvious as she
stole glances in the direction of the pool shed. The
small wall around the showerhead only covered the
area just below shoulder level down to your knees.
She wished she had the nerve to stroll over there for
some reason and take a peek. Watching Jack toss
his dirty shorts over the wall, Connie felt a warm
flush.
Five minutes later, Jack stepped out of the
shower, clean and fresh. As he walked back to the
table, drying his hair with a towel, Connie was
surprised that he now wore a pair of red swimming
trunks.
"I hope you don't mind my borrowing these."
He said indicating the shorts. "They were just
hanging back there. The fit is a little snug but their a
lot more clean that the pair I came with."
"Not at all." Connie replied. "They must've
been left over from the pool party Jenny had before
she left. If no one's claimed them by now, their
your's. You look good in them."
The reason being, Connie thought to herself,
that they were such a snug fit that they very clearly
outlined his hidden assets.
The two chatted for the next thirty or so
minutes. They talked about college and Jack's plans
beyond it. He was a business communications
major, but he also had a strong interest in music. In
fact, he even had a band back at school. It had
started out as something to do on weekends. Then it
had gown into a passion.
"What kind of music do you perform?
Connie asked as she finished off her Long Island Ice
Tea.
"Well you might find this a little strange, but
I've got a real love for '50's and very early 60's
music." Jack said, the intensity in his eyes lighting
up as he spoke about something he really cared
about. "All that really great music that got pushed
aside by the British Invasion in '63."
"Is there really an interest in that old stuff?"
Connie asked, genuinely interested. "I would think
that it only appealed to old fogies like myself."
"No, I mean yes, there's always been some
interest." Jack said. "Its funny but of the big hits of
the last ten years, most are already forgotten. But
some of the hits from 30-40 years ago still draw an
audience."
"That's really interesting." She said. "Are
you any good?"
"Well, we've always played to sell out
crowds. In fact, if it wasn't for my parents insisting
that I come home for the summer, I was thinking of
taking the band on tour."
"That would seem a better way of making
money for school, a lot more fun that swinging a
shovel." Connie said.
"Definitely, but grandma still controls most
of the money and she didn't like the idea of me
playing in a band. She says all musicians were
useless good for nothings that would never amount
to anything."
"Didn't you say that your grandfather had
been a musician?" Connie asked.
"Actually, he was the leader of a group back
in the mid-50's. From what my dad says, they really
had a chance to make it big. They even played on
the same stage once with Little Richard."
"What happened to them?" Connie asked,
very curious as to what the answer would be.
"For some reason he just gave it up right
after he married my grandmother. My dad never
knew why. And it was pointless to ask grandma,
she couldn't say his name without cursing." Jack
answered. "They were supposed to make a demo for
RCA just before he up and quit. I wish they had, I'd
have loved to hear them. They were supposed to be
really great."
"They were..." Connie said without thinking.
"What...?" Jack asked as she looked up.
"I mean., I'm sure they were." She corrected
herself.
"Where you into music when you were that
age?" Jack asked.
"Oh yes, my girlfriends and I used to go to
see all the local groups."
"Then maybe you heard them?" Jack said,
hopefully that she would say yes and could tell him
about the music. "Johnny and the Bluecoats."
Connie hesitated for a moment. She was torn
between the truth and her interest in this young man.
An interest the truth would make all but impossible.
"No,...." She said hesitantly. "I'm afraid I
can't recall a group by that name."
"Oh well." Jack said, disappointment in his
voice. "It was a real outside chance at best."
Connie felt like a real shit. Especially since
among the things that had been in that box she'd
opened last night had been a large reel to reel tape of
one of the Bluecoats practice sessions. She's used
her father's tape recorder to record it. If Vinnie had
preserved it as well as everything else, and there was
no reason to think he hadn't, then it was still good.
Silently, she promised herself that no matter what
happened, she would have the tape delivered
anonymously to Jack before the week was out. As
soon as she could think of a good cover story to go
with it.
"I was going to take a little dip in the pool."
Connie said, changing the subject. "As long as you
have the trunks on, why don't you join me. Unless
of course you have something else to do?"
"No, not really." Jack answered. "Hot as it
is, the pool sounds great."
Twenty minutes passed as they splashed
water at each other and swam the length of the
Olympic pool. The ease with which they joked back
and forth made the vast age difference between them
fade as easily as the water splattered onto the hot
patio deck.
Connie had just leapt up as high as she could
in order to splash him once again when she lost her
balance as her foot slipped on the pool floor.
Jack quickly grabbed her to keep her from
going under. Reacting instinctively, he simply
grabbed what would give him the best grip on her.
Which in this case, since he was behind her, had
been her oversized breasts.
When he failed to remove his hands right
away after Connie had regained her balance, she
turned her head around and said.
"I guess I should take this as another
compliment?"
Jack didn't understand at first, then realized
that his hands were still spread out over her cloth
covered nipples. He had to admit it felt good.
Reluctantly, he was about to remove his hands and
make a joke about taking too long when Connie's
right hand covered his and held it in place.
A sudden sensation beneath the water cause
him to slightly jump as Connie's left hand closed on
the bulge in his too tight trunks. She smiled as she
found it rock hard.
"Definitely a compliment." She purred.
For once in his life, Jack was speechless.
"Well, as I see it, we can look at this two
ways." Connie said. "Just chalk it up to an accident
and a natural male response to it, or ... we can take
it as the indication of a mutual interest and perhaps
do something about it."
Jack's head was swirling. He still didn't
know what to say. Yet at the same time, he made
no move to disengage himself.
"Perhaps you need just a little more
encouragement to help you make up your mind."
Connie said as she spun around in his arms and
stood face to face.
Jack's back was now up against the wall of
the pool and there was no place for him to go unless
he pushed her out of the way. The uncertain young
man watched in fascination as she reached up and
pulled down the straps of her swimsuit, letting her
prodigious mammaries float free.
Jack's mouth dropped opened and his eyes
blazed with hunger as he looked down at the large
dark aureole and the thick nipples that protruded
from the centers. With a broad grin, Connie brought
his hands to their previous position, inviting him to
feel them without the barrier of the swimsuit.
Connie's smile grew to her most radiant as
Jack accepted the invitation and began to caress her
nipples. She pulled him close and kissed him on the
lips. Full of desire, it was definitely not the sort of
kiss you expected from someone's grandmother.
Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
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