Sammy's 500th birthday should have been a momentous and joyous occasion and began that way, with everyone appearing to have a wonderful time. Everyone being: Sammy, the birthday boy; Sara and her friend Lady, who lived nearby and Sara had invited with the intent of introducing her to Sammy, to hopefully be a friend to keep him from being lonely when Sara was away; the Professor and his plus one and two, in this case, a pair of redheaded, green-eyed identical twins, who he'd brought more to observe Sara's reaction than he had for Sammy, who he'd come to accept was a lost cause. And there'd been a few dozen other guests, all unfamiliar to Sara, who had ascended from the caverns beneath the estate to join the party at Sammy's invitation. The Truth, most of whom had been hiding from the agents of The Faith for a century.
Sara had returned from her most recent adventures late the evening before to slip quietly into Sammy's bed at midnight, as had become her tradition on his birthdays. She'd encountered naked flesh, which she'd expected, except there were body parts she hadn't. She'd smiled, feeling nothing but happiness that Sammy hadn't been alone until the woman sat up and screamed, which woke Sammy, and the lights came on. Surprise!
The woman appeared to be fifty, or thereabout, no real surprise. That had been Eve's age, the day they became Immortal before their appearance gradually returned to that of their prime. Sammy chose not to dwell on those memories of Eve as she'd appeared those final few years, not even those beautiful days of naked-hide-and-seek.
The woman in Sammy's bed that early morning of his 500th birthday had been terrified and tried to pull the sheets around her body as she slid as far from Sara as she could. Sara had reached out, intending to take the woman's hand to comfort and reassure her, but she'd been having none of it. And Sara touched a part she hadn't intended.
"I'm sorry," Sara apologized, "And sorry I startled you," suddenly recognizing, despite appearances, that the poor woman was probably only a tenth her age, a child in comparison. She softened her voice and gently repeated her apology that everything was okay; there was no reason for her to be afraid. When her efforts to ease the woman's fear had no impact, Sara's patience eventually wore thin. She'd returned home to wish her husband a very intimate happy birthday. She'd asked the woman, "In or out?"
When Sammy introduced Sara as his wife, the woman jumped from the bed, attempting to take the sheets with her, but Sara instinctively held on to them firmly. The woman found herself standing naked in the middle of the room, totally exposed, frantically trying to cover herself with nothing but her hands and finally turning her back to them.
"Why would you want to be with me?" she'd cried to Sammy.
"Because you're a beautiful woman," Sammy insisted, adding, "But I explained, first thing, that I have a wife, who was off traveling, but I expected to return just as she did. With no warning, in the middle of the night. She likes to surprise me. Especially for my birthday."
"Yes, but you didn't tell me..."
"What?" Sammy and Sara chimed in unison.
"That she'd be so young and gorgeous," she'd said, glancing over her shoulder toward Sara, still trying to hide her nakedness from their eyes. "Look at me. I'm a wrinkled old woman with sagging tits, belly fat, and a flabby ass."
Sara thought the woman was stunning, just as Eve had once been, or Sara might have become if she'd aged another thirty years. She hadn't noticed any belly fat before the woman had turned away from them. Her tits looked great, what Sara had seen of them. And nothing appeared flabby or wrinkled from behind. She had a beautiful face. But Sara also recognized that it was impossible for her to fully empathize with the difference the woman perceived when she'd never experienced the trauma of watching herself grow older in the mirror and never would. So, she tried to be as kind as she could.
"Come back to bed," she'd encouraged, standing and offering to return the sheets. The woman had looked as if she was freezing, shivering in the middle of the room, even though Sara thought the room was warm enough. But holding out the sheets only served to expose the magnificence of Sara's nakedness, head to hoo-hah, and there'd been no happy resolution to their encounter. The woman refused to return to bed with Sara still there. Sara refused to abandon her bed or her husband - but did repeat her offer to share, either or both.
Sammy finally found the woman a robe and guided her to another room where she could sleep while Sara waited for him to return so she could wish him a proper, Happy Birthday. The woman was gone in the morning. Still, the day had seemed to be going as well as possible, given that bit of a bumpy start.
The Professor had warned the twins, who had eyes for Sammy, not to get their hopes up. Sammy was Sammy. And Sara was home, which meant there was a better chance of a foursome than a threesome. Not with Sammy. And not that day. Sara would be focused on Sammy alone, but some other evening during their stay, chances were good that Sara would leap into their bed late at night, naked and ready for some fun. And he recalled her having a fondness for red landing strips. It could be interesting.
It also never happened.
That horrible, unexpected, uninvited instant arrived later that evening when everyone froze and held their breath. Sara had no idea why she hadn't told Sammy centuries earlier, immediately, the day it happened, or the morning after. Maybe she'd instinctively sensed how Sammy might react. He and the Professor had never been of a like mind when it came to the rules and etiquette of sex. And, even though Sammy had never expressed the disgust and contempt for the Professor's self-proclaimed pursuit of twenty-year-old ass that Eve once had, there were softer echoes of those sentiments that rang through his thoughts. Sammy claimed he hadn't been judging, but it was evident he'd felt some discomfort with the Professor's avocation and the age of the young women he'd pursued.
Tension began percolating below the surface of the relationship between the three of them from the instant the Professor's face lit up seeing Sara for the first time when she'd opened the door, nude and unembarrassed, still ripely perfumed in the scents of several vigorous hours in Sammy's bed. Sammy had felt an immediate sense of proprietorship and the need to be Sara's protector against the Professor's predatory nature, which, although never openly expressed, continued even once, years later, she'd made it clear that she felt entitled to make her own decisions, including who she chose to join in bed and with whom she chose to share her body. Sara had and intended to have sex with other people. She'd never lied about that. That was the whole point of her periodic wanderlusts, the details she'd willingly offered to share - anything Sammy wanted to know.
Sammy denied jealousy and agreed he didn't own her. But he didn't want to know and she had decided it was best not to tell him.
But how could Sammy not have known? It was there. Plain as day. The Professor's blatant flirtation and her open receptiveness. Neither Sara nor the Professor had made any secret that they enjoyed their time together. Alone. Just the two of them. And they'd never tried to hide their friendship and affection from Sammy. They'd openly shared interesting and stimulating conversations with Sammy that she and the Professor had in private the evening before. He'd found them together, swimming in the nude beneath the waterfall and lounging naked in the gazebo. Although, since Sara frequently neglected to wear clothes, there'd been nothing of necessary concern there. But Sammy had to be aware of their causal physical affection for one another. Everything but walking in on them, alerted by Sara's full-throated announcement of an orgasm, which he'd somehow managed never to hear - nor chosen to investigate. But what could he have possibly thought she'd been doing when he woke at night and found she wasn't there beside him and when she'd slipped back into the room later as quietly as possible?
She hadn't been sneaking back to bed. Nor grabbing a quick shower out of guilt. She was only being courteous, trying not to wake Sammy, or smell of sex, just like not talking about the Professor and herself when he didn't want to know. She'd have told him anything if he'd asked, which he hadn't. But how could he not have known?
Sara wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else when it had all blown up. Anywhere else. Even the cliff had beckoned for an instant when she'd felt a flash of empathy for Eve and wanted it to all go away because no matter where else she went, it would follow her. Then she'd reminded herself of all the life she'd yet to taste. And the further pain she would have caused Sammy, even as angry with him as she'd ever been. The first time she'd ever been truly angry with him. Annoyed, frustrated, but never truly angry. And she'd been enraged.
It couldn't have helped the relationship between Sammy and the Professor when Sara decided to walk out the door accompanying the Professor, as Sammy continued to fume and scream threats at their backs that did not seem idle. Which Sara had never understood, neither the reason nor the ferocity. The Professor had never done anything more than be the Professor, true to his admitted nature.
Sammy, on the other hand, had been angry beyond the bounds of sanity and felt dangerous to her at that moment. She'd believed it possible Sammy might carry out his threats to kill the Professor, and where would that leave things with her – because if Sammy ever harmed the Professor in any way, she could never look at him the same way or allow him to touch her again, with murdering hands, just as those of her father. She would leave on a wanderlust that lasted forever.
It was bad enough that he'd threatened the Professor and chased him away. Sara loved the Professor. She'd never been 'in love' as she was with Sammy. But she had loved him and still did, even if she hadn't seen nor heard from him since that day, five hundred years ago, tomorrow.
Sara accompanied the Professor only as far as the front gates of the estate that day, where she'd found her friend, Lady, waiting in anticipation of Sara's arrival. Lady had departed the instant it became evident that things had taken a wrong turn. The twins also followed the Professor, who'd brought them but was now in no state to be social. He refused to talk with Sara about what had transpired. And didn't acknowledge the presence of the twins, which had been so unlike him. As callous as he might rightly have been accused, the Professor had never been rude nor anything but courteous and transparently honest about the temporary nature of his intentions. They knew he wouldn't have kept them in his company beyond that single visit with Sammy and Sara, so there hadn't been much point continuing to follow him.
Sara - other than the Professor's long-deceased wife, who'd left him for another man, the revenge for which was likely the initial motivation for his quest – had been one of the few women the Professor ever had a sexual relationship with lasting beyond a single evening, an occasional weekend, or a visit to the estate that might last longer, and the only woman since to whom he'd returned on multiple occasions. Even the sorority sisters on his infamous cruise were each one and done, except for one who he'd explained had been exceptionally talented and amazingly flexible.
There were thirty of them; he'd once regaled Sara. He only had seven days, evenings, and nights. And he needed some rest. His Immortality procedure had occurred only hours before his departure, the effects of which had been far more fatiguing than beneficial. He'd been a tired seventy-year-old man who felt he'd done quite well for himself. It was one of his proudest accomplishments. He'd have sent his bitch ex-wife the video if he'd still cared.
Lady invited the twins to stay with her for as long as they liked, with no expectations, except to be her guests. When questioned about what that implied, Sara and Lady laughed and explained they'd figure that out for themselves soon enough. So, with nowhere better to go, they'd tagged along, then remained with Lady for over a year, when both departed with enough cash to complete college and graduate school without debt. After which, both returned to Lady's for brief stays over the next decade and eventually stayed to live the remainder of their extraordinary lives.
That was the last Sara had seen or heard from the Professor, although she'd still regularly reached out for what had now been half a millennium. And Sammy continued to bristle at any reference to the Professor, even as Sara had tried desperately to herd him in a rational direction with every new trick she learned, which had grown into quite a repertoire.
Why did she have to ruin such lovely moments? He'd ask.
Why did he insist on being such a stubborn, unbending, unforgiving pompous ass?
Did Sara think even the best waking orgasm of his life would make up for what in his mind that man had done?
What had that man done? Nothing that Sammy hadn't done himself. He woke to find her naked in his bed and reacted the way nearly any healthy man in the world would have, as had Sammy if he remembered. Maybe, if he were that unappreciative of her efforts, he would prefer waking alone with his morning wood and nothing else but his right hand.
But she'd always returned as promised, offering far more than his right hand and often more than he was willing to accept.