Last week, as you'll recall, some startling information came to light. See what the boys are up to this week, as Stan and Ollie continues. And don't forget to visit the other Wednesday Briefers, whose links follow my tale. Enjoy!
Stan and Ollie #14
Just when you go and think you have something figured out, life tosses you a lemon, except it’s not, it’s a hand grenade and it explodes right in your face. Well hell, there goes that idea.
“How do you know?” I’m not being difficult, just thorough.
She obviously can’t tell the difference as she flashes me a dirty look and tosses her ginger locks in her typical alien diva style.
“Because I found her file, Mr. Suspicious Asshole, and there is nothing there about a pregnancy, not even a test for one.”
“You think somebody just drew the wrong conclusion?” Ollie offers me an apologetic glance. Of course I accept it, he’s done nothing wrong.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” My brain starts spinning with possibilities. “What if that’s what little miss… what’s her name? Oh yeah… What if that’s what little Miss Emmy wants people to believe?”
“What do you mean, Stan?”
“Well, I bet she didn’t expect anyone to be digging in her file, right? So, the truth of the matter lies between her and her doctor, now doesn’t it? Doctor patient privilege they call it.”
“Yes, but to what purpose?” Then Ollie snaps his fingers, and a knowing look passes between us.
“Yeah, just what I was thinking. How do you lasso the man who has everything you could possibly ever want or desire and more money than brains? Get him to award you one of those MRS degrees that feel like a fucking noose around your neck and cut off your circulation. What’s the fastest road to the land of I Do? Especially for an old-fashioned Southern gentleman who’s from a different generation? A shotgun wedding.”
Looks like that little gal is still on the suspect list. Great. That’s not helping anything. At this rate, as time goes by we might just well have half the town of Cortez on that list.
Plus, judging by the smirk the runs the length of her majesty’s face, we’re not getting any privacy any time soon to do any of the other things that I’m… dying to do.
I’m indulging in a little fantasy now, but not the hot Ollie kind, imagining what it would be like to take hold of Xylina while she’s in her feline form, stuff her in a canvas bag, and toss her foul self into the pond, making sure said bag is appropriately weighted with stones, of course. I’m in the midst of guessing how quickly she might sink when Ollie’s cough pulls me out of my reverie.
Damn, and I was having such a good time…
“You wouldn’t and I know it,” he says softly, turning me and pulling me against him so that my back meets his front, his arms tangled about me, his lips buried in my hair. “I know you too well, and you are a very honorable man, Stan Lawrence.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what Brutus said about Julius Caesar too,” I mumble, but I don’t disagree with him because I know he’s right. I would never harm an animal, even that one—even if technically she’s not an animal, although I’m not going into that either—but it’s therapeutic to pretend otherwise.
“Why don’t we go to the park and wait there for Egbert to arrive?” He nuzzles my neck, and I can feel the tip of his tongue as he drags it across my collarbone and of course I give in.
“Her too?” I gasp out.
“Xy, can you do lookout?” he asks her, and without looking, I imagine the evil gleam in her eye that’s aimed at me, but I don’t care, I feel too damn good to worry about it. He ameliorates the request by adding, “I trust your instincts regarding humans.”
Huh, as if…
Of course that means I can’t lean against him like this, much as I’d like to, so I reluctantly stand a little straighter, but he compensates by winding his arm about my waist, and we walk together to the park, the frustrating feline having shifted and scurried ahead of us.
Since we’re early, I suppose that we’ll fill in our time with wandering about, seeing what plants are in bloom, which of the local perverts is doing what, and try to avoid the local fauna as much as possible. Not that I’m even sure what species of critters might just be native to Cortez, but I’m reasonably sure that I don’t want to know either.
So imagine my surprise when he leads me directly toward a small brick building situated not too far from the pond. One side is marked gals, the other guys; we head toward the latter and step inside. Four stalls, no waiting, and no one else in sight.
I’ve barely got the words out when he’s pulled me into the nearest stall, covered my lips with his own and stolen my breath away. He slams the door shut and presses me up against it, and I’m too dizzy to think, drinking in the taste of his mouth on mine. I feel his hand snake between us, feel his palm encompass my growing hardness, press against it with purpose.
I squirm in his grasp, feeling I’m going to blow any minute when suddenly he drops to his knees, unzips me and takes me into his mouth without warning. I arch my back and my head bangs against the door, my hands form fists and my mouth falls open in amazement as he works his magic on me, his heat consuming me, possessing me, owning me, as he draws out everything that is in me and makes it his.
Let there be no doubt that I am his and always will be. Ollie says he knew it, long before he arrived to claim me.
Damn possessive alien.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
And when we’re done, I melt in his arms and we stand there for a time, our hearts beating as one.
to be continued
Now on to the rest of the Briefers!
Elyzabeth VaLey m/f
Chris T. Kat m/m
Victoria Adams m/f
Lily Sawyer m/m
MA Church m/m
Tali Spencer m/m
MC Houle m/m
Cia Nordwell m/m
Until next time, take care!