0 comments/ 63832 views/ 2 favorites It's Time By: MysticSubmissive I come to your door. You've left me a voice message saying that I should be wearing black thong panties, thigh high nylons, a short black skirt, a see-though bra... this is how I'm dressed. You've told me to knock on your door, remove my glasses, and shut my eyes. I'm standing there, at your door, glasses in my hands, with my eyes closed... wondering what's in store for me. You told me that I didn't do as you explicitly instructed... and I know that I'll be punished, but I had to see you... so... I will have to take whatever it is that you are planning for me. I feel my self trembling a little as I stand there knowing I will be at your mercy. Finally, I hear the sound of the door opening. I feel your wrist take my forearm and pull me gently inside. "Hi," I say to the air... no sound is returned to me. Instead I feel a blindfold being tied tightly around my eyes... my hands instinctively go up to my face feeling the silky texture of the cloth over my eyes. Your voice finally breaks the stillness... "Did I tell you you could move?" I shiver courses through me. "No, Sir" ...and with that one sentence, I realize that this is a "no-nonsense" side of him that I haven't experienced. "Don't move, and don't speak, unless I tell you that you can. Understood?," he says. "Yes, Sir," I reply, and I feel my blouse being unbuttoned, my un-protesting hands are at my side. Click! A handcuff clicks over one wrist. My arm is strongly forced behind me. Click! The other wrist is secured in the cuffs behind my back. I stand perfectly still, wondering what I've gotten myself in to. Then I feel his hands taking me strongly by the shoulders as he kicks one of my feet out to the side. Surprised, I nearly cry out, but remember that I'm not to speak. He let’s go of my shoulders and I hear movement. Then I feel his hands running up my legs, exploring every inch. My thigh high nylons stop just below the thong panties, and I feel his hands reaching the upper edge of the nylons. Then he begins to explore my thong-cover pussy, probing and fondeling, turning me on!! "Umm, you're wet already, little one," he says in a very sexy voice. Startled at how sexy he sounds, I take a sharp breath, but remember that I'm not to speak until he allows me to. I feel his hand running up the back of my neck. His fingers grabbing a fist full of my silky hair, holding my head securely. [Deep Breath] Another surprise... how commanding he is! I feel his lips on mine, his hand holding my head with the grip his has on my hair. There is no question of who is in command here. He takes me by the arm, and leads me across the room, whirls me around, pushes me off balance and (startled) I plop into a waiting chair. He tells me to sit very still, and I now know better than to argue. I feel the soft bonds of a man's tie wrap around my ankle and one of the front chair legs. [[Oh my god, he's tieing me to the chair!]] The tie is tightened until I wonder if it will cut off my circulation. Then his hands focus on my other ankle, and again I feel the soft bonds of a man's tie around my ankle tieing me tightly to the other front chair leg. My open blouse exposes the see-through black bra that barely covers my nipples. I feel a rope tighten around my chest and tie me to the chair. He makes a figure eight as he wraps the rope over one breast and under the next, then round the chair, and again under one breast and over the other. The silence is deafening as I feel myself becoming so vulnerable... so tightly tied... unable to move... exposed... blindfolded... helpless. He begins to play with my pussy. His fingers massaging, probing, rubbing... soon I begin to moan. I can hardly stand it as he increases in intensity. I squirm helplessly tied in the chair. He begins to squeeze my breasts. My breathing deepens and I feel the ropes that bind me to the chair. He is twisting and squeezing my nipples. "Ouch," I hear myself saying. "What's this? You're speaking without permission?," he says. "You need to be taught a lesson, I see." Surprised at his words... I breath in sharply... somewhat relieved that he's stopped pinching my nipples. I hear him walking away from me. He returns in a minute and I hear the flick of a switch and the faint noise of a vibrator. "Would you like me to use this on you, little one?,"he tauntingly says as he rubs the cock-like vibrator against my face. I feel the vibrations and know that he could use it to keep me at the edge of orgasm for a long, long while. I feel him using the vibrator against my breasts... my nipples... until they're standing out and very firm. Now he moves it lower... playing between my legs, pressing it firmly against my pussy... rubbing it against my clit. I can feel my excitement increasing and along with it my wetness. My pulse is raising, my breathing becoming more rapid. He's holding me in a pre-climatic state. [[Oh, godd... how long can he keep me here!!]] I want the vibrator inside me. I ache for it's feeling of penetration. I'm so wet that I can feel it against the chair. "Please fuck me... please... don't tease me".... "Oh, your very disobedient!!" I'll have to punish you more... and I know…[[ohh, goddd]]]… it's going to be a long evening... It's Time My wife Maria and I had long been considering involving another couple into our sex lives. I had always fantasized about it, but only recently had I learned that Maria was interested as well. We had been married for about five years, and our sex life had become only ordinary. I had always been hesitant to pursue our fantasies, because I was not sure how I'd be able to handle seeing Maria with someone else. In fantasy, I enjoyed the thought, but in reality, I wasn't sure. I had long ago realized that Maria had always had an attraction to a friend of ours named Rick. I too was attracted to his wife, Jen. I had never mentioned my attraction to my wife, and she had never mentioned hers to me, but I'm sure she knew how I felt about Jen. It was one night after a particularly typical sex session between my wife and I, that I finally decided to see how my wife felt about spicing things up. I was very nervous because she had never even mentioned anything of the sort, but I felt that something needed to be done. I brought it up, without mentioning anyone in particular, and I was shocked that she didn't scream at me. In fact, she was fairly receptive. She admitted that she too had felt that our sex life had become stale, but she was nervous about including others for fear of what it would do to our relationship. We both agreed that we would keep it in mind, and think it over, but left it at that. About two weeks later was New Year's Eve. I'm not a big fan of occasions like this, but we had long ago agreed to attend a party with Rick and Jen. It was taking place at a hotel about an hour from our home, so we had gotten a room to spend the night. In the back of my head, I had considered that this would be a perfect chance for us, since Rick and Jen had planned on heading home, as they lived much closer. We got to the hotel a little late that evening, so Maria decided to shower there to save some time. I was ready and dressed when Maria stepped out of the shower. Now, I have always loved watching her get dressed. Something about it had always driven me wild. This evening was even better. She had decided to wear a black bra and panties and a sexy black dress, with high heeled black shoes. While she was getting dressed I tried to get her in bed, she kept resisting saying she didn't want to be late for the party. Of course this got me pretty worked up, so I was very horny heading to the party. The party started out pretty boring. The other couples there were much older than us, and we began to feel out of place. We didn't have any choice but to stick it out, so we decided to make the best of it, and do a lot of drinking. Poor Rick couldn't do much drinking though, because he had to drive home. The rest of us spent the next few hours drinking heavily and dancing. Maria and Jen were both fairly drunk, and I was well into it also, but not too much, since I had other thoughts in my head. I planned on keeping my wits about me. The four of us partied and danced well past the midnight hour, and I was beginning to grow tired of dancing. Maria though didn't want to stop. I went and sat down at our table and left the other three dancing. A few minutes later Jen came over and sat down next to me. We catted for a few minutes, and I noticed that she was very drunk. What I hadn't realized was that Rick and Maria had been out on the dance floor together for a while. The DJ said he was going to slow things down and play a few slow songs. Rick looked over at me to see if I had any objections to them dancing together and I waved him off. I was more concerned about spending time with this beautiful, drunk woman sitting next to me. Jen and I went back into our coversation, and when I looked back up, I noticed that Maria was really enjoying dancing with Rick. She was holding him very close, and from a distance it looked like she was grinding into his crotch every now and then. When Maria looked up and saw me looking, she gave me a sly smile, and ground her hips right into Rick. I was shocked to see this, but also excited to realize she was thinking just like me. I turned and went back to talking to Jen, but now with much more purpose. After a few minutes, I placed my hand on her leg, and she seemed to have no reaction. I then slowly started sliding it up a little higher on her stocking clad leg, until I reached the top of the stocking. I could feel the warmth from her pussy. She seemed to be enjoying the attention, and asked if I'd like to dance. I sure as shit wasn't going to say no. We danced a few fast songs, and this chick was really into it. I knew she was drunk, but I felt like this could definitely be going somewhere. I looked over at Rick and Maria to see that they also seemed to be hitting it off. They were all over each other, their hands roaming as well as their hips. The next song was a slow song, and much to my chagrin, Maria came over and asked to dance with me. At first, I was disappointed, but then Maria started talking! She asked if I was enjoying myself with her friend, which shew knew damn well I was. I asked the same of her. Then came the big one! She asked if I'd like to ask them to stay in our room, since it was getting late. She didn't come out and say anything, but I knew what she was getting at. I said yes, of course, and asked her if she was sure. "Absoultely", she said. I was a little jealous of her exuberance, but excited just the same. We went over to Rick and Jen to ask. Rick hesitated at first, but Jen was adamant that she didn't feel like driving home this late. Rick agreed and our plan was set in motion. When we got back to the room, Jen layed down on the bed half asleep. I hoped this wouldn't last long. I opened a bottle of champagne and grabbed four glasses. I gave them to Rick to pour; telling him he had better drink a,lot since he had some catching up to do. I looked at Maria and smiled and excused myself to the rest room. When I came out, Jen was sitting alone on one bed, with Rick and Maria on the other, sitting very close together. I joined Jen on her bed and turned on the TV. I was shocked when Maria said, "Let's watch a porno!" She had never mentioned watching one before. Rick and Jen both agreed. I was going out of my mind with excitement. I picked the first movie and sat back right next to Jen. Little did I know that the movie I picked was a group sex movie!! This was going great. The first scene was a circle jerk which everyone agreed was just disguisting. I fast forwarded to the next scene which involved two couples. I looked over at Maria, and again she smiled. We all sat and watched the scene for a few moments. I looked over at Maria and saw her rubbing herself through her dress. I immediately got harder than I ever had been before. Jen saw me looking at my wife, and sat up and started to rub my leg. I was going out of my mind. Then it all started, Jen reached over and turned my head towards her. Next thing I knew, her tongue was in my mouth. This was it, and I didn't hesitate. I went right back at her. I laid her on the bed and got on top of her, completely oblivious to what my wife was doing with Rick. Jen quickly undressed me until I was down to just my boxers. I then had her down to her bra, panties, and stockings. We sat up to see what the other two were doing just in time. Maria was on top of Rick. He was fondling her tits through her dress, while they made out. Maria sat up and peeled her dress over head. She looked amazing. She reached down and undressed Rick til he was completely naked and started to jerk him off slowly. In the meantime Jen had her hand in my shots doing the same. I pushed her away and ripped off her bra and panties. I then laid her down and started going at her pussy. Hers was the first I'd ever tasted other than Maria's. I've never been a big fan of eating pussy, but I was loving this. At the same time, Rick laid down Maria and removed her bra and panties and went to town. Unfortunately me for me, I was dying to get off. I pulled my head from between Jen's thighs, and slipped out of my boxers. Without hesitation, Jen reached down and guided my cock into her pussy. She was amazing. She was much tighter than Maria and was moving her hips in ways I'd never experienced. It only took a minute or two for me to explode inside of her. I collapsed on the bed next to her and tried to absorb what had happened. We lay there touching and fondling each other as we looked over to watch my wife with her husband. Rick was still down between her legs. He must really have loved eating her. Maria was writhing and screaming beneath him. I guessed she must have gotten off at least three times so far! She glanced over at me and smiled, and mouthed the words, "Thank you." She then reached her hand down and pulled Rick up on top of her. She grabbed his cock and pushed it right up into her pussy. She screamed as he entered her. At this point, I thought this was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. My wife had her legs wrapped around another man, who was pounding her like there was no tomorrow. I had never seen Maria so into getting fucked. I knew she was loving this! A couple of moments later Rick started to groan. Maria pushed him out of her, and he exploed all over her belly. The excitement of watching my wife with another man had me still wild with lust. Jen must have been enjoying it too, because she didn't resist a bit when I guided her lips to my aching cock. Again I couldn't hold out long, and shot my load deep into the back of her throat. The four of us lay there a few moments, taking in what had just happened. We had been friends for years. None of us had ever swung before, and we had never even mentioned anything of the sort. It all had just sort of happened. Rick broke the silence and said, "Wow that was the best fucking time I've ever had!" We all laughed. Jen agreed, saying, "We definitely have to do this again!". Again we giggled. Maria responded that I had a birthday next month and that maybe we'd have a private party this year. "Yeah," I said, "And I've always wanted to see Maria have her pussy eaten by another woman!" "Me too," Maria replied! It's Time Part 1 I got home after another long day at work and retrieved the mail. I sifted through it...junk, bill, junk, bill.... "What this?" I wondered, looking over an envelope with no return address. "Hmmm?" I took it upstairs to my kitchen and opened it. Carefully. It contained three handwritten pages of pink paper. I read the first one, a brief cover letter, as it turned out. I wrote this letter the day I got home after Marcy's wedding, but it took me months to get the courage to mail it. I'm not sure I should have, but, if you're reading it, I guess I did. That's all that page said. I started pacing the floor. I remembered that wedding well, but the reception was a little blurry. I know one thing, I made a total ass of myself. (Fucking tequila!) I took a quick peek at the next page. (I had a sneaking suspicion.) "Yep." I muttered, suspicion confirmed. Her handwriting was pretty distinctive, right down to the little heart she drew over each "i." But mainly it was the fact that SHE was the only one I ever let call me "Stevie." I sat down. I had figured I'd hear from her again one of these days, but now I was a little afraid to read the letter. "What if she says she doesn't ever want to see you again?" I said to myself, as my mind wondered back in time to that wedding. Marcy was an old high school friend of mine. I'd been out of the loop, so I was surprised to get the invitation. The only reason I went (it was about two hours away with a lead foot) was to see if SHE would be there. I knew she'd been out of the loop, too, but if I got invited.... I had made the trip to the wedding with time to spare, but was a little late (conveniently) in arriving at the church, so I just sneaked into the back row. I saw a few familiar faces, but not many. I started thinking about the glory days. It had been 12 years since high school. I always thought I was pretty cool back then. I played sports, was a class officer, always got invited to the best parties, shit like that, but now.... Here I am sitting in the back row of the church, no wife, no kids, no date, a lame ass job, a way-too-old truck, and $7,000 of credit card debt just to top it all off. I wasn't 100% sure about high school, but I knew I was anything but cool now. I wondered how things had turned out this way for me. I was lost in thought. I suddenly realized that people were standing and clapping. I joined in and followed the wedding party out into the parking lot. A pretty redhead caught my eye. It was HER. And she was still the hottest thing on two legs. I kept her in my sights, but tried to stay out of hers, because she was holding hands with her husband. "What a dick," I thought. "Why him?" I continued to watch them (while everyone else focused on the bride and groom). They seemed like a happy, good looking couple. I followed them until they hopped into a shiny blue Escalade. (He even opened her door.) I huffed and headed for the reception. Once there I went right to the bar.... And so it began. I was working on my second beer when our eyes met. "Oh-my-god!" Debbie ran over to me and wrapped her arms around me. I held her tight. (She is the only woman to ever make me weak in the knees.) "Ok, break it up, you two." Her husband pried us apart with a friendly smile. "How's it going, Steven?" "Alright. Good to see you, Mark." (It wasn't.) We shook hands. The three of us made some friendly conversation before Mark suggested we find our seats. Debbie gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and they moved into the hall. I went back to the bar and grabbed another cold one -- and a shot -- before finding my seat at the back of the hall. It was a normal wedding reception (white people dancing badly), but I just couldn't get Debbie out of my mind. I thought about our past. ************************************* Debbie grew up next door to me. We were same age, so we rode the same school bus. We became fast friends. People used to joke that we were Siamese Twins because wherever I was, Debbie was, and vice versa. Debbie often used to sleep over at my house. (My mom and I lived in the lower floor, and my Aunt and her kids lived upstairs.) But it wasn't like at a kid's sleepovers. She used to sneak into my bedroom through the back door and crawl into bed with me, mostly on weekends. I don't remember exactly when it started. I just always remember it happening. My mom knew, too. When I'd ask to eat breakfast in my bedroom, she'd joke, "Are we having breakfast for one or two today?" Only when I got older did I understand that Debbie was fleeing from home more than wanting to sleep with me. She didn't talk about it much, but I knew she wasn't happy at home. When we got into high school, our sleepovers slacked off, but they still happened. I was trying to "take our relationship to the next level" (as they say), but she always said that she wasn't ready for sex, and I never pressed her, even when I woke up and found her in my bed. It was difficult, especially when she blossomed. Sometimes I'd wake up with morning wood and find her sleeping in these little short shorts and a small tank top. It was all I could do not to.... It was all I could do. But, otherwise, things generally seemed fine between us. I'd always thought we were a couple until the night of the Bradford Halloween party, our Senior year. Debbie said she was working late (she worked part time at some clothing store), so I stayed home for most of the night giving out candy. Then I hit a couple of hot spots before going on to the party. Things were kind of quiet, and something just didn't seem right. People were looking at me strangely. A friend of mine even tried to stop me from going upstairs to the finished attic -- where all the couples went to make out. I got this sick feeling. I brushed past him and raced upstairs and searched room after room, until I opened one door, and there she was...there THEY were. Debbie in bed with a boy on top of her. They froze. She wore a look of panic on her face, but she never said a word. I looked down at the trail of discarded clothing, and then back up to his arched back. Even under the covers it was obvious what they were doing. His head slowly turned in my direction. Like a punch to the stomach, I saw that it was Mark Thomas. (Mark was my nemesis. He was a year older and always seemed one step ahead of me. And, to make matters worse, he was also my cousin, who lived upstairs from me.) His face slowly grew a smile, and he resumed thrusting his hips. He had won again and he knew it. Evil thoughts filled my head. I stepped towards the bed. Suddenly, I was hit in the back of the head by something and then all I remember was being kicked, over and over. (Yeah, that was a Halloween party to remember. I lost my girl and, thanks to a couple of Mark's friends, sustained three broken ribs to boot.) Debbie tried to explain, saying she was really in love with him, while she and I were just best friends. She said if I truly loved her, I'd understand.... Even though I was crushed, I tried to suck it up and be a man. I even went to their wedding a couple of years later. While we didn't see each other much after that, we still got together at Christmas. It was never easy. I'll admit my smile was fake, but I always thought that one of these days she'd see who truly loved her. Then, about five years ago, Mark got a new job, and they moved away. That was the last I saw of them until Marcy's wedding. ************************************* I finally built up enough courage and sat down and read the letter. Dear Stevie, It was so surprising so see you at that weeding. I used to think about what I'd say if we ever met again, and then we do and I just couldn't seem to find the right words. You didn't seem to have the same problem, although some of them were slurred, but you still had that look in your eyes. I know it well. That's why I had to write this. It's time. Believe me, I'm not that special. I have my flaws. I know I leaned on you pretty hard back when we were younger. You were my savior. You showed me that all men weren't perverted like my dad. I know you think he used to do "things" to me but he didn't. But that's not saying he wasn't fucked up. I can't believe I'm going to finally tell you this but here goes. Most of the time my dad was pretty normal, but when he'd been drinking he'd get weird. One of his things was to watch my step-mom strip naked. Sometimes he'd bring his buddies over to watch too. He made me watch too. If I didn't, he'd threaten to give me a bare bottom spanking. Even though I didn't like her that much it was still hard to watch them humiliate her. Sometimes they'd make her touch herself or put things inside of herself. He also used to have sex with my step-mom anywhere in the house at any time. If I was around, he'd call me in to watch, and that's why I'd sneak over to your house. If I wasn't around.... I knew why he was making me watch, before he ever told me. He was training me. He said the day I turned 18 I'd take her place, but he, you know, had that accident. Things were good with me and my step-mom after that. Strangely, it was a real blessing. I guess you always knew something weird was happening over at my house, so I guess my confession doesn't shock you that much. It didn't shock me, but it wasn't what I thought. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall, though. Her step-mom wasn't much of a looker, but she was really built. Her dad, however, always gave me the creeps, and I knew things were weird for her at home. I was kind of happy when he died. Now, I'm thinking Debbie was, too. It made me feel better about it. I flipped to the last page and read on. And that brings me to you. You were always there to comfort me. You were my rock. Not once did you try any funny stuff after I said no. Sure, I knew you took some peeks under the covers, but that was it. I'm not sure what I would have done If you had "charged" me for my visits, but I'm sure I would have done just about anything to get out of that house. But that's why I loved you so, because you didn't. But there is "love" and then there is "in love." I know you've told me more then once that you loved me. (Fifty times at the wedding.) It always warms my heart. But, did you ever think you just might lust me? I wonder: If you had a do-over what would happen? If you knew that last time I snuck into your bed would in fact be the last time.... I know we can't go back in time, but I had an idea that might just square things between us. Once a year (the last weekend in October) my husband goes away fishing, and that time is near. I would never cheat on him. I vowed. But, if something happened, and I didn't have a choice, then I guess that wouldn't break my vow. I'd never tell anyone if that happened. Mark thinks he's been the only one. Confused? Well, last Halloween a good friend of mine told me she was awakened by a large man wearing a Halloween Mask. He had this large knife, and, well, you can guess the rest. But he didn't hurt her. In fact, it turns out he was an old flame. She was pissed, but ultimately understood. I know it happens, but still sometimes I forget to lock the back door. "What the ...." I cried out. I read the ending of the letter ten more times to make sure it said what I thought it did. Putting the letter down, I looked at the wall calendar. I had four days to prepare. ------------------------------------------------ I snapped on the small lamp on the nightstand and slid onto the edge of the bed. Even sleeping, she looked like a princess. Moments later, her eyes fluttered open, and she let out a gasp. She tried to shuffle away, but I grabbed her by her blue nightshirt and put the knife to her throat. "No screaming, or I'll use this." "Oh, god, Stevie, that better be you," she squealed. I pulled the knife away. I was a little confused. I just shook my head. "How did you get in here? I mean, I locked the door." "Quiet bitch!" I snarled, flashing the knife. "Or I'll slash you." She let out a giggle, her eyes directed to my obviously plastic knife. (I bought it at a joke store. I didn't trust myself with a real one.) "Okay, maybe scratch you," I said with a chuckle, taking off the Gene Simmons mask (same store), although I didn't know what was going on. I mumbled, "Wasn't I supposed to be some masked man?" "Yeah, it was kind of scary when I first woke up, but then I remembered you were a KISS fan." (She hated them.) "But that's why I locked the door. I mean, I changed my mind. How did you get in anyways?" "French doors are pretty easy with a credit card. But forget that. What do you mean you changed your mind?" She looked down. "Yeah, I mean, I can't go through with it. I thought I could, but now.... It just wouldn't be fair to Mark. Right before he left he finally told me he's ready to start a family. I'm going to be a mom. I've waited so long." "Fuck that!" I snapped, starting to get hot. (I'd waited even longer!) "What wasn't fair was making me sit there and watch him marry you; THAT wasn't fair." She closed her eyes and shook her head. I knew she was tired of hearing it. I shrugged. "Yeah, but what's done is done.... Is that it?" She nodded, looking away. I started pacing the floor alongside the bed. "I drove seven fucking hours, and now you say you've changed your mind, just like that." I snapped my fingers. "No, not this time. I'm done being kicked aside." "Please, Stevie, let's talk," she pleaded, pulling the covers up. "No, this time you listen to me." She tried to interject, but I snapped my fingers again. I ripped her covers away. She wasn't going to hide from me anymore. She gasped and slid up to a sitting position. "Listen, Debbie, all those years, we were inseparable, and then you chose him. Okay, I'll live with that. I guess he treats you okay, and you two seem to be doing well. (He owned his own company, and she had some fancy marketing and research job.) But you still owe me one. You must know that. That's why you wrote that letter.... Guilt." She shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Yeah. You must remember promising me that I'd be the first. Well, we know that didn't happen. You said in that letter that I could have a do-over. That's what I want...that's all I want." I was having trouble keeping my composure, a tear joined hers. "But we can't. Not now." "We can, and we will." She smacked her lips. "What...? Have you been drinking?" "No, not tonight. Tonight, I want to remember everything that I say and everything that happens, unlike that stupid wedding." "You were a dick. You even said you should have charged me to sleep in your bed. I know you didn't mean money." (My face flushed, embarrassed that I'd actually told her that.) "Yeah, maybe. I guess I'm not the nice guy that gets walked on, anymore." "Well, I liked that nice guy." "Oh, yeah, that guy got lots of lovin'. I got to first base the same night I lost my cherry.... Fucking Prom Night. Now, I couldn't even tell you her frigging name. It was so special." "I think it was Samantha." "Gee, thanks. I'm sure I rocked her world. It just dawned on me that I've never even kissed you on the lips." "So, you want a kiss?" She blew me a kiss. "And that I've never seen you naked." She didn't say anything this time. I know I was being a whiny brat, but I just wanted some satisfaction. I'd also waited a long time for this, and I figured this would be my last chance. It was time. "So, are you prepared now?" I said, raising my voice, "to show me that bod?" She answered by pulling her night shirt down over her knees and shaking her head. "Please leave." "Jesus! I always believed you when you said you weren't ready for sex, but now, I know you're no virgin. Just let me fuck you, once. Like you promised me many years ago." "But, I'm married now." "Yeah, you've pointed that out. So it will be our little secret. You know I can keep a secret." (I've never said a word to Mark about our sleepovers -- even after.) "B-b-but," Debbie stammered and sniffled. "That was a long time ago, and nothing happened." "Yeah, I know that all too well. But to this day you've never really thanked me for that. I mean, guys would have killed to be in my position. Do you know how hot you were...and still are? Wow, the things I could have had you do. Like you said in your letter, you would have done just about anything to get out of that house. I should have been the one to show you the joys of sex." "B-b-but, I wasn't ready." "Bullshit! Maybe when we were younger, yeah, but what about high school? You weren't that innocent." She rubbed her chin like she was trying to think what I might know. "Like, I know about that clothing store." I winked at her. Her eyes flew open. "Oh, yeah, I know what you used to do with that manager guy, under his desk." "H-how? I mean, what...?" Debbie seemed flustered. "Wendy told me. She seemed to take pleasure in the pain it caused me." "That bitch." "Sure, it wasn't until years after you married that she told me." I shook my head with a chuckle. "To think, you blew the guy for a night off, or to leave early.... Wow, Debbie." Her face turned pink. She whispered, "It was nothing. What else did she tell you?" "Oh, concerned now? I guess Mark wasn't the only one...." "I didn't sleep with him. It was just...." Debbie's voice sank, "Oral." "You sucked his cock." I snapped, and, just to be lewd, I added, "And swallowed his cum." "Ewww," Debbie groaned. "It wasn't, like I said, it was nothing, and I didn't swallow." "Nothing, huh? Ok, then where was my blowjob?" "What?" "Yeah, if it was nothing back then...then why when I asked was it? Hmmm? I couldn't even get you to give me a handjob after my 18th birthday party. Am I that repulsive?" Debbie closed her eyes. "No. You know you're not." "Gee, thanks." I raised my voice. "Yeah, you know how many hardons I had to wish away. I always thought it was some sort of phobia or maybe you weren't that type, but now I know differently. No, tonight I'm not leaving here until you've sucked me and...." "I'm not having sex with you, and that's it," Debbie shouted. "And I'm not doing that with my mouth either." She paused. "You've changed." I looked into her puppy dog eyes. I guess I had because usually they would melt me, but not tonight. I had to think. I'd said too much and gone too far to stop. After a couple minutes of thought, I pulled out her letter and read it out loud. When I finished, I added, "This is your letter, inviting me, the weekend your husband goes fishing?" "Yeah, so?" Debbie sounded concerned. (I thought, "This just might work.") "Well, what if I showed this to Mark and told him what a great time we had living out your masked intruder fantasy. He must know about it." "What?" Debbie screamed out. "You wouldn't!" "Yeah, it would be a little lie, but with this letter.... I'd tell him how I came in with my shiny steel knife and scary mask and tied you up and fucked you silly on his bed. Just like I do every time he goes away. I'd also tell him how much you enjoyed it, and how you had me do it again and again and...." "He wouldn't believe you. He wouldn't." "You don't sound so sure, Debbie." I started reading the part of the letter about the masked man again. "Ok, ok, I get it," Debbie interrupted, before lunging for the letter, which I held just out of reach. She whined, "God! How pathetic. I can't believe you're blackmailing me. I'm married. I just can't have sex with you." It's Time (I wasn't proud of that fact either. It made me re-think.) "Ok, Debbie, just give me that do-over, and I...well, I won't even ask for intercourse. I promise." (It was a promise I didn't know if I could keep.) Debbie perked up. "No intercourse." "Nope, but don't sound so victorious. We're still going to play and do everything else. I'll just keep my dick out of your pussy." I moved over and brushed her bangs. "Right, just play out MY fantasy of a do-over, and things will be square with us. I'll give you back your letter, and we can go on with our lives." Debbie asked several question as to my intent, but I remained stone-faced. She thought it over for a couple of minutes, and then she nodded sheepishly. Gentlemen, start your engines! ---------------------------------- Part 2 Debbie emerged from the bathroom about a half-an-hour later. I smiled, liking what I saw. "I feel silly," she whined. I checked her out. She didn't LOOK silly. She was dressed in the outfit that I'd picked out for her. It reminded me of the one she wore the last time she shared my bed, except for a pair of black open-toed high heels to satisfy my fetish. (She tried to get away with some silly flip-flops.) Her outfit consisted merely of a pair of shiny pink shorts and a thin black top. She sulked when I handed her the outfit, but it was her clothing, and I reminded her that it would soon be on the floor anyways. Now standing before me, the simple outfit looked sexier than I had remembered. She blushed under my scrutiny. I examined her nicely made-up face, another instruction she had followed well. She seemed amused that I cared so much about her hair and makeup, until I finished by telling her to use that lip-gloss that she had on at the wedding. ("Lots of it.") She smacked her lips (obviously reading my intent), while shifting her eyes to my crotch. "Why? It will just rub off on your, you know, anyways." "Maybe I want a souvenir." I winked. "Because I'm planning on leaving you with a little something, something." I was laughing to myself, like a bad comedian, when she cleared her throat, breaking in on my thoughts. I moved her over to the far side of the bed and pulled up this fancy cedar chest and sat down. Her head swiveled. She was boxed in, and she knew it. "Ok, lets get this over with," she pouted. I sat there and continued to look her over. I had waited a long time for this, and I was going to take my sweet-ass time. Finally (as if to take us back in time), I snapped my fingers. "Well, Debbie, I see you're back, and you want to spend the night in my bed." She sighed. (I wasn't sure if she was going to play along.) "Yes, please, may I?" "I don't know. My bed's pretty small and...well, I might need a little convincing." Debbie rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" (She wasn't doing a real good job of acting. I didn't care much, because I had waited a long time to say this.) "Why don't you show me your tits, for starters." "Tits." Her hands flew up to her chest. "Yeah, let me see those puppies." "C'mon, just let me spend the night, you know I don't snore." (She didn't.) "Let's see..., I've seen you in a bikini, and some skimpy tops, but I'm looking forward to finally seeing the mystery that is your nipples." "M-mystery?" Debbie mumbled. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure about the shape and size of your breasts, but the exhilarating part is the nipples. Like what color are they? How long and hard do they get? How sensitive? I still have no idea. It's still a mystery." Debbie looked down at her chest. (It hit me that she probably hadn't thought about her nipples as much as I had.) "Lift that top up and reveal your mystery." Debbie's head flew up. "Ah, maybe I could show you my ass instead." I chuckled. "Oh, I'm planning on seeing that, too, and more.... Now, show me your tits...FOR STARTERS." "Wait, time out. Just what else are we talking about?" "Nice try Debbie, get going." She huffed and turned her head to the side and pulled up her top, just over her breasts. I gasped. There they were, after all these years. Her nipples were seductively pink. They were surrounded by brighter pink areolae. I licked my lips. Set against her creamy white skin, they were very erotic, and looked very suckable, but there would be time for that later. "Now, lose the shorts." "Hey!" She whined, yanking 'em down. "You don't have to be so fresh." She threw them at me. I picked them up and made a show out of sniffing them. (I, at least, had no problem acting 18 again.) She twirled (to show me her ass) and then posed, hands on hips in a show of bravado. My eyes took in every inch of her full frontal nudity before she tried to hide behind her hands. "Ok, you've seen what I got." She picked up a pillow and held it in front of her. "Do-over: done." I just shook my head with a sly smile. "Done? Not yet. Not hardly." She huffed. "But you saw me...." "Not all of you." "What?" she gasped. "You Pervert!" "That's right. I want to see your pussy." "But you saw it." I laughed. "I saw your cute little landing strip, but I want to see where the plane parks." "Smart-ass." (Maybe, but I was having fun.) I ordered her over to the bed. "Just think of me as a doctor." Her story of her first visit to a gynecologist rang in my head. Especially about how embarrassed she was to have to put her feet up in those metal things and spread her thighs wide so her doctor could put his finger and various metal objects inside of her pussy. All for a man she just met. It almost made me go to medical school. "You know I hate doctors." I nodded, knowingly. I watched a small tear roll down her cheek. It didn't move me. I knew it wasn't a tear of pain, but of humiliation. And I wanted more. I don't know why I wanted it this way, but there was just something inside me. I mean, I knew all about her past, and yet I made her strip for me. (Like her step-mom did all those years.) And I knew she had a thing about doctors.... I snapped my fingers, and she slouched over to my side, dropping the pillow. I felt her hand brush the side of my hair. It was electric. Her womanly aroma danced into my senses. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her left nipple begging for attention. I turned my head slightly and took it between my lips. Debbie purred as I sucked it in. She pulled me tighter and continued to stoke my hair, her fingernails lightly scraping my scalp. "Yes, that feels good." she moaned. "But the other one is jealous." I slid around (not that I need any encouragement) and took her other nipple into my mouth and sucked on it with vigor. She told me how good it felt. I felt my cock flutter and start to grow. I reached up and cupped both of her breasts, pulling them close so I could switch back and forth between nipples. "See, you feel good, and you're making me feel good," she whispered, as I continued to suck on her nipples. "You don't want to do bad things to me? (I shook my head.) "You want to do GOOD things." (I nodded.) "I'll be nice to you too, and do that thing you want, that every guy wants, with my mouth." (My ears stood up.) "And you won't cum in my mouth or on my face, will you? (I shook my head.) "Right! 'Cuz that's bad." (I nodded.) "But you can cum on my breasts, I see how much you like them." (I did.) "Ok, so let's switch places and let Debbie make you feel good and then we are even, Stevie, OK? (I nodded.) I stood up, and Debbie started kissing her way down my body until she was squatted down in front of me. She lightly brushed my crotch. "Looks like someone is good to go," she snickered. That broke the spell. I reached down and pulled her to her feet and tossed her back onto the bed. She looked surprised. "Nice try, Debbie." I grinned, because she almost had me. "Seduction 101. It might have worked if I was still 18, but, let's face it, we can't go back in time." I sat back down and patted the corner of the bed. "I'm a grown man now, and I know what I want and how I want it. So where were we? Oh, yes, you were about to show me your pussy." Debbie wasn't happy and did some bitching, while I just kept patting the corner of the bed. Even though I didn't say a word, she finally slid down to me and dropped her legs off the side of the bed. I slid forward and spread her legs farther apart and pulled her towards me. Satisfied, I leaned in for a look at her shaved pussy. Her pussy lips were clearly visible and snuggled tightly together. (Jesus, just like I like'em.) I took some deep breaths before I gently rubbed along the edges of her pussy, circling my target. I sucked on my right index finger, making a show of it. Debbie saw, but looked away. I ran the moist finger up and down through her pussy lips. (I wanted pink.) Not satisfied, I gathered some spit and released it on target. I used my spit to spread her pussy lips, fan like, until they stayed parted. (I had pink!) I picked her legs up and bent them back, her thighs moving farther and farther apart, until she was fully displayed. She looked down at her new position and gasped. I reached out and began stroking the surfaces of each of her perfect pussy lips, while admiring their smooth, elastic texture. Once again I spread her lips way out. (It figured.) She had positively the most exquisite pussy I had ever seen. My eyes watered. (This was sleeping right next to me all those years!) I blinked my eyes and focused. It was time to find out how she felt inside. I told her to "relax." She exaggerated a sigh. I slipped my right index finger, ever so gently, into her hot little pussy. Slowly at first, I moved it in and out, letting her get used to the feeling, and then began using two fingers. Harder, deeper, faster.... Then my left thumb joined the fun and ran small circles around her very noticeable clit. Bit by bit, I threw in every trick I knew...and some I dreamed up on the spot. (There goes my medical license.) When I got my first moan out of Debbie, I licked my lips, figuring it was time to move on. Her pussy looked great, and it felt great, so there was only one more thing to do. I threw her legs to the side and slid my hands under her ass to cup her cheeks. Then, while lifting up, I leaned forward and ran my tongue from the bottom to the top of her pussy. "Oh no, no you don't!" Debbie cried out. "I do," I said, before taking another lap. Debbie put her hands over her face, but she didn't move from her position. (Why would she?) I continued my munching. Once again, I used everything I knew and probably did some stuff just by accident. For a while there, I was just a wild, pussy-eating madman. When she finally climaxed -- or at least cried out like she did -- she started begging for mercy. I stopped licking, but I wasn't finished with her yet. I fished out the tube of lubrication that had been warming in my pocket. I slid her down to the end of the bed and pressed her legs back, way back. She looked concerned, but still a little hazy. Warning her to stay in position, I grabbed the lubricant and squeezed some out onto my index finger, making sure she could see me do it. Then I ran my finger around her asshole. She gasped. I slowly started working my way inside. The grip was extremely tight. I added some more lubricant and went back to work. She recovered a bit and screamed out, "NO!" That was OK, but when she kicked me in the shoulder, I figured I'd crossed a line. I wanted to apologize, but couldn't find the words, so I grabbed her again and went back to eating her pussy. When I added a finger, she started to moan again. Then I slid my finger out of her pussy and slithered it into her asshole. She cried out ("Why?"), but didn't kick me this time. I didn't answer, but I did slow down...and finally stopped, taking one last look before climbing up onto her body. I held her face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers (our first kiss). She tried to break away (for obvious reasons), but I had a good hold and a quicker tongue. She finally relaxed and helped out, while I ground my hard crotch into hers. I spent some time kissing her neck, and nibbling on her ears, before bouncing off the bed. I grabbed a pillow and dropped it on the floor in front of me. It was time to get my dick sucked. I summoned her by whistling and tapping my crotch. She burned, but slid off the bed and took her place on the pillow. I patted her on the head, which drew another dirty look. I used my thumb to trace her glossy lips, while trying to keep my composure. She started sucking on my thumb. This, and the realization that, after all these years, the lips that I had dreamed about would soon be wrapped around my cock, made me pick up the pace (before I came in my pants). "Now, suck my cock like you should have done, way back when." I slid my pants down and kicked them free. She whimpered, but pulled my underwear down my thighs. I think she closed her eyes because she banged her face into my cock a few times before taking it into her lips. (Yes!) She swirled her tongue around and didn't really move her head much. I was thinking that maybe she was out of practice because I was assuming she didn't do this with her husband. A handful of hair was all that was needed to get her going and for her sexy dark eyes to open. I fucked her face until she pulled back, begging me to let her suck. That's what I wanted to hear. I folded my arms behind my back, pompously, and waited. Debbie did some muttering, but when she returned to my cock, she did better, though she still she wasn't into it. (It hit me that the last blowjob I'd had was from a paid professional. It was great, but over too fast.) One good thing about this one was I was going to be able to last. I figured this would be my only one, so I was planning on making the most of it. Anytime I felt I was getting close, I'd make her stop and lick the shaft of my cock. (She flat out refused to lick my balls, but that's never been my thing.) When I knew I couldn't take much more, I tossed her onto the bed. I flipped her over and dragged her to the bed's edge. Then I had her reach back and grab her heels. She was now in position. She started to complain, but I shoved my cock back into her mouth. (I'd heard enough.) Fucking her face, I closed my eyes and resumed my day dreams. I changed her from one position to the next, each one designed for my pleasure. I finally had her back on the floor kneeling in front of me, held there by a handful of hair. I began stroking my cock. She was trying to pull away. "Don't come on my face!" she cried out, but it was too late. Her protest was met with flying streams of cum. (Now, I'm not exactly a human sprinkler system like Peter North, but I did make my mark.) I ran my cock along her lips, and she took me in, ever so briefly, before she got up and scampered into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. I immediately felt remorse. Normally, I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but she was different in so many ways. And, like I said earlier, I also knew about her past. My mind drifted back to THAT damn day.... It had started off pretty normally. I had gone over to Debbie's house to see if she wanted to go to the Mall. But, as I was about to knock, I heard loud cheering from inside. Curiosity compelled me to peek into the living room. There were some thin drapes in my way, but I still could make out four men standing in a circle. I suddenly realized that there was a naked body lying on the coffee table beneath them. "DEBBIE!" my mind screamed, but then I saw her off to one side, out of the corner of my eye. I found a better spot. I could see that Debbie, wearing a white bikini, was sitting in a chair...tied and gagged. I was about to rush in like some sort of hero when I saw her father's face. (Oh, god!) He was one of the men. The men flipped the woman over and made her grab her heels. They moved around the head of the woman, and they all appeared to be jerking their cocks. (They still had their pants on.) I couldn't believe that a circle jerk was happening right next door, in the middle of the day. When the group finally broke up, Debbie was released from the chair. I kept a close eye on them now, but she wasn't touched. However, she didn't get off easy. Under her father's belt swatting ordears, she had the job of cleaning up the woman's face...with her tongue. It almost made me sick. (I never realized that it was her step-mom until later.) After that day I came up with all kinds of plots to get Debbie out of there. I just had to. Then, on Halloween night, her father was killed in a car accident coming home from his favorite pub. The car was mangled so badly, and with his blood alcohol level, they never did check the brake lines. No, he was just another dead drunk driver.... ************************************** I shook with the memory. I stood up and paced the floor. Debbie took her time returning from the bedroom. In fact, I wondered if she would at all, and several times I thought maybe I should leave. Suddenly, the door swung open. "God, I can't believe you did that to me." Debbie marched into the room. "I'm not a whore. Give me that letter and get out." I handed her the papers, and she tore them up and tossed them away. "There, that takes care of that. I hope you had your fun." (I did, but I didn't feel like I thought I would. The night hadn't gone as planned.) She sat down on the bed. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" I didn't want to, but I started spilling my guts, while pacing. "This is the only thing I know, that if you'd have chosen me, I would have treated you like a princess, because that's what you were to me. Why do you think I never tried anything with you all those years? I knew something was screwed up at home, and I knew there was more to you then a killer body. So I was there for you. You know what that is? That's what they call love, Debbie...not just lust. No, I loved you. I loved you so much. I wanted the sound of you breathing to put me to sleep, night after night, forever." (I wonder if she would ever know the lengths I would go for a loved one.) I moved over to the bed and lifted her chin up until our eyes met. "But maybe you're right. Maybe lust is all I have left. I think things changed the night you decided to break a promise and fuck my cousin." She pulled away and dropped her head and murmured something. (What was that?) I froze, finally managing to mumble, suavely, "Huh, Debbie?" "I said, I'm sorry." "Sorry?" (It's had been the one thing missing. She'd never said it, not once, in all these years.) "Yeah, I-I-I was young, and things were messed up, but something about the way you loved me...it was scary. It was like if I didn't get away soon, I knew I never would. No one's ever looked at me like you did...do. I didn't understand it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Debbie burst into tears. It took me only seconds to do likewise. I sat down next to her and slowly took her into my arms. We sat up and talked and talked, clearing the air. It was painfully clear how much she loved her husband and how happy they were. After two hours, I was pretty sure she'd made the right decision -- for her, anyways. I finally figured it was time to leave. I leaned in and kissed her...for one last time. "Take these," Debbie said, picking up my mask and knife. "Go out and come back in, wearing this, and do whatever...as many times as it takes. Just get me out of your system. I can't be your dream girl anymore. There is someone out there waiting for you. Life doesn't end at 18." I was shocked. She slipped off her robe (giving me one more look) and slid into bed. I grabbed the stuff and walked out of the room. Taking a last look, I closed the door. I stood there for a minute, thinking. She was right. I had to get her out of my system, but I knew if I opened that door and went back in that I'd never do that. I dropped the mask and knife (they were her fantasy, anyway) and walked to the back door. It's Time I sat for a time in my car, taking one last look at her house. It was a long look. After awhile, the lights came on in room after room. Debbie, I figured, looking for me. I shook my head, already wondering if I'd made another bad choice. I took a deep breath. I had to stop using her as a crutch. I pulled out the well-worn photos that she and I had taken in that amusement park booth so many years ago. I gave them one more kiss. "Bye, Debbie, have a nice life. Be a good mom." I tore up the photos and tossed them out the window as I drove off in search of someone new, someone who would love me back. It was time. The End Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I'll appreciate any feedback you think I deserve. Edited by C. Lakewood It's Time I received an email letting me know that you'd be close, very close. You told me you wanted, no had to see me. I smiled at that thought. Having talked with you, hearing you I knew I needed it too. There were dates and the name of the hotel you planed to stay at. I pulled up my calendar and looked at it. I would be free, actually having planned a trip there myself that very weekend. It seemed fate was working with us. I jotted down the information and managed to send you back a quick reply. I let you know that I was already planning on being there that weekend with friends and that I wouldn't mind seeing you. It would be our first meeting and that thought alone was enough to strike fire in my body. Imagining the things we've spoken about, the things we'd do. I sigh and close down the computer getting myself ready for bed. My thoughts are of the coming weekend. I smile softly as I slip off to sleep. My thoughts on that meeting, that touch, the kiss we've talked so much about. Before I know it it's morning and I'm waking up to the sun pouring in and birds chirping outside. I wake up and get myself around for the busy day. I look through the dresser pulling out a pair of panties that you've touched. The very first pair I sent you. Pink and black, I hold them in my hands thinking about them being wrapped around your cock. The cock I can't wait to see and touch. I put them on along with the bra, a pair of shorts and a tank top. Going down I go through my morning routine, having coffee and breakfast. I don't bother with the computer as I've got so much to do. I make a couple of phone calls, talking to the girls, wanting to make sure everything is settled. We fly out tonight and I'm a tad nervous I must admit. I stop and take a deep breath, then head up to pack. A girl can never be too early in getting around. I put in a few dresses, a couple of skirt and blouse combos. Not to sure where we'll end up I settle for a little of everything. I grab some of my favorite panties and bras, ones we've talked about and you've bought for me. Ones you've said you can't wait to see me in. I smile as I fold them and place them in the suitcase. Before I know it the time has past and I go eat lunch. Not soon after my phone rings. It's you and we talk, nothing sexual, although it's underlying, just there below the surface. I can't believe I'm actually nervous about it. It's not as though I don't know you, we've talk for a few months now. I'm thinking its just because its new, something I'd never thought I'd do. This is the case with several things with you. This is only another to add to the list. I rattle off hotel where I'll be staying and when I'll get in. You tell me you'll call and that you've got to be going. We hang up and I head back to my packing. I make the finally preparations. The time has gone by so quickly and before I know it I have to be at the airport. We fly and arrive and head to the hotel. We each have are own rooms but my girlfriends notice something is up with me. I'm in my room, getting ready to shower when the phone rings. I can't help but wish it were you. I answer with a hello and am treated to your voice. The seductive tones in it already heating up my body. I tell you I'm getting ready, that we are going to a club. You ask if you can meet me there and I agree. We hang up and I shower and get dressed. Knowing you'll be there and the possibility of what might happen I dress the part. Black and pink lace covers my body. It's one set we actually picked out together online, one you told me you'd love to see. Along with that I've got a black dress, low cut, short dress. It looks amazing with my two and a half inch heels. I look myself over in the mirror and smile. I feel so hot, so attractive. I get a few looks from men passing by but I pay them no attention. I've only got my sights set on you this evening. We reach the club and its in full swing. I wonder if I'll be able to find you. I hope so. We move to a table, standing there, ordering our drinks. Then a song plays, one that reminds me of you, how typical I think. My girls and I go out and dance. I'm no longer paying any attention to anything but the song. Just dancing and enjoying myself when I feel eyes on me, someone is looking at me. I wonder is it? Looking up there you are. My eyes lock with yours. You look wow, I can't even think straight. My body is already responding thinking about you, about your touch, the feel of your hands. I hear someone, a friend, whisper about a man staring at me as though he wants to eat me up. It's you they are talking about. I tell them I know and that I was expecting you. They smile and nudge me your way. I move through the crowd, nearing you. Your hand reaches for mine and pulls me to you. Our lips finally meet. There's no hello, only a kiss. A deep and very hot kiss that both of us want. We get pushed out onto the dance floor and we begin to move to the music. Our body's pressed together. I can feel your hands, those hands I've wanted touching me for so long on my body. It's burning me up. I want more of it. You cup my breast, slightly tweaking my nipples. The feelings running through me are delicious. I want this. I want you. We move to a corner of the floor. Your hands slowing moving up my dress, touching me in ways you've told me about. Your fingers moving over the lace of my panties, feeling how wet my body is. My pussy is already aching for the feel of you. It knows you're near. Slowly you slip your hand down my panties, running along the lips of my sex. It feels better then I thought. I've so wanted this. You begin parting my folds, easing into my sweet, wet warm. One finger then two. My hips move against you, pressing into you. My right leg moves around you, opening myself further to your touch. My breasts push against you, my nipples achingly hard. I can't help but try to ease their ache by rubbing against you. Here we are in the middle of the dance floor and haven't said a word. You're fingers are moving inside me. Teasing and tempting me, as I knew you would. The fact that we are surrounded by people, that anyone could see turns me on. The careful movement of those wonderful fingers, knowing just where to touch, just how to play me brings me to the brink. You cover my lips with yours and catch my voice with your mouth. I cry out and into you, my pussy clamping around and soaking your fingers. You hold me there till its done then slip out your hand. You bring it to my lips and I suck your fingers into me, tasting me, tasting you. I suck them clean, our eyes never leaving each other. I can feel and see the need on your face and in your body. I lean forward, and whisper the first words in your ear, "Fuck me, take me out of her and fuck me like you told me you would." It's Time "It's time, girl." I heard what I assumed was the door opening and then felt the firm tug of the leash as Sir drew me through it. I moved on hands and knees, of course. I knew what I was to do. Sir had prepared me well, and he had assured me that regardless of my actions, my safety would not be in jeopardy. Sir had told me there would be no more than a handful of others there to observe me. Despite this, though, I was terrified. It would be my first time "performing" like this. Part of me wanted to resist and play innocent, while the other half desired more than anything to make Sir proud of his perfect little cockslut. I knew it was this part of me that had to be in control tonight. Despite a lack of visual sense – I was blindfolded as Sir and I had agreed – my hearing and other senses seemed heightened. I could smell the mix of scents in the room I had entered: cigarette smoke, alcohol, colognes, and some other odours of a more bodily persuasion. I heard clinking glasses, murmuring voices of men and women, and immediately the sound of my own pounding heart was vibrating through my head. It seemed like more than just "a handful" of people before me. I was distracted by this realization when I felt the tug of my leash again and followed Sir's pull. I knew he would sit, and that it was up to me to do the rest. I felt for his shoes and bent my face to them, loyally lapping the brushed leather. I drew my face upwards, not losing contact with Sir's leg against my cheek, and moved my hands between his thighs. I undid his pants and pushed my face forward, nuzzling lovingly, feeling his half-hard cock responding to me. Here, I felt his hand on my back, pushing downwards slightly; I knew this to mean he wished for my ass to be pushed up wards for display, and so I obeyed, wondering if the observers were actually paying attention to my movements. The background sounds had not seemed to lessen. I arched myself appropriately, spread my legs, and heard Sir's low response; "Good girl." It made my heart flutter. Taking his warm cock in my hand, I felt it surge as I led it to my eager mouth and wrapped my glossed lips around it. I could picture the reddish-pink ring of colour I would leave around it this first moment. It always pleased me to see that temporary mark of my own creation. It was a simple reminder of my role; Daddy's little whore. My mouth belonged on his cock, and the ring of colour only underscored it. My tongue swirled and lapped, flicking and pressing, and Sir's cock slid in and out of my mouth. His hands wrapped in my hair every now and then, reminding me of his ultimate control as he fucked his hole. I took as much as I could, feeling my eyes water beneath the dark blindfold, wanting the group to know I was built to please my Daddy Sir. My pussy had always grown wet when I sucked cock, and this was no exception. I knew the others would be able to see it, if they were bothering to look, and the thought of it caused me to moan a little more as I sucked, and to begin wriggling and moving my ass in slow circles. I was a wet little cocksucker, it's true, but I know Daddy liked me that way. It made me suck all the better. I moved my tongue to lap and caress Sir's balls... carefully attending to them, my nose and face all pressed up between his legs, inhaling him. One hand jerked his hard cock slowly, slapped it against my own face. Daddy's fingers hooked into my mouth and shoved into my throat... two fingers, then three. He pulled me back onto his cock, then, and began to fuck my mouth in earnest. I could hear the words, spoken in that low but firm tone... "You're Daddy's little mouth fuck, aren't you?" I nodded. Moaned. "Spread that cunt for me. For us. Show everyone how wet this makes you." Moaned. Reached back and spread my slick cunt open. "I'm going to come down your throat in a moment, and you're going to be a good whore and swallow, aren't you?" Nodded. Breathed raggedly through Sir's tensing cock. The thrusts quickened, then held, and Sir pulled off my blindfold as the first burst of liquid warmth filled my throat. The sudden light surprised and blinded me, and I blinked back the shock that followed, as spurts of cum from elsewhere showered over me, as well. I was in a circle of men who were jerking their cocks over my naked body as I swallowed waves of Daddy's cum. I struggled not to gag as Sir held me on his cock, forcing me to focus with his commands and restraint. The room was filled with cheers, laughter, applause, and the glare of flashes and video cameras. Over it all, even then, was Daddy's steady voice, grounding me. "What a good slut. I'm so proud of you, R." My whisper: "Thank you, Daddy." It's Time It's Time... The story of two partisans, beginning in southern Italy in WW2 beginning just before the Allied landings. This story could be listed either as Romance or Non Erotic, it isn't a sexy story, in fact it is rather bittersweet. The idea for the story came while the author had the tune Come back to Sorrento rattling around in his mind. Verses of the song are inserted in places. The characters and the story are fiction, and do not reflect the conduct of any person, living or dead. The character Harlequin is based on a very quiet man the author was privileged to know and work with, who slowly, ex-soldier to ex-soldier told the author some of his experiences during the two years he spent working with the Italian partisans, behind German lines. The story is the property of the author and may not be used or reproduced without the express permission of the author. As my usual editor yellowperil2 is quite busy right now, any mistakes or misspells are totally my fault, I beg your forgiveness in advance. Well? I thought, looking at Rosa as she lay in the hospital bed at the Villa Fellini, I think it is getting near time, I had better warn the children. I looked at her eyes once more; they were staring up at the ceiling, not registering anything. We had been together in that room for the last two weeks as she gradually deteriorated. It had been a day since she last showed that she recognized me, and just a few minutes ago her fingers had pressed my hand as she used all her energy to say one word, calling me Paolo. That was her pet name for our second son Paul, the son that we had lost in Afghanistan eight years ago. He had been in an unarmored vehicle in a UN convoy travelling to help people in a remote village, when an IED had been detonated by the Taliban, destroying the vehicle and killing all in it. Paul's death had been a major shock to both of us, but for her it was a devastating blow, one that she was destined not to get over. Ever since Paul had joined the UN team In Kabul she had believed that somehow the Taliban would not target or harm them because they were helping the Afghan people. Though I can't be sure, deep in my heart I believe that somehow, the loss of Paul was partly responsible for the deterioration in her, the deterioration that I had been watching over the past few years. To me it was no surprise that the Taliban would hurt a team trying to help their people, I had long since realized that fundamentalist Muslims were not to be trusted, any more than fundamentalists of any religion, they were all intolerant of any other views but theirs, and many would kill to ensure those views were observed. To Rosa it was incomprehensible that they could do such a thing to people who were trying to help them. After we buried our son, something no parent should ever have to do, life slowly seemed to leave Rosa. The lively vivacious woman that I had married so many years ago began to disappear. She began to shut us out, turning inward away from her family and friends to some place within herself, somewhere she could not be hurt any more. She sat on our covered patio for long periods, staring out at her garden until I would take her hand and walk her out, and help her take care of the beautiful space she had created. At night she still sought the safety and comfort of my arms, but the delightful sexual being that she had been was no more. At best she just lay there and allowed me to have sex with her, but very rarely did she take part with any enthusiasm and her first act after would be to head for the bathroom and clean herself, as if the evidence of our joining was offensive to her and had to be destroyed right away. This wasn't the case all the time, at other times she seemed almost manic in her efforts to do household chores, garden, and sometimes make love. I didn't know what the problem was, but made up my mind to support her by taking over some of the household chores, and cooking (thank heavens for slow cookers). I helped her with her gardening and kept her interested in the garden and in other things such as reading, travelling, and getting out to the local stores, keeping her going as much as I could. Thank heavens I was retired and could spend lots of time with her. She had been such a lively person, a volunteer with the Women's Institute, the Women's Volunteer Service and the Catholic Women's League, a lively and inventive lover, and most important a loving and caring mother, who always had time for a child with a question, a story to tell or a hurt that needed tending. Now that was all gone and all I could do was help her to live as well as she could. In spite of the privations I had gone through as a soldier in World War 2, I found this time the most desperate period of my life. Rosa had always been meticulous about her appearance, but after a while I couldn't help noticing that she wore the same clothes for several days, she still showered daily, and changed her underwear, but her outer clothes were often stained and worn for several days. I would ask her to change into something else so that I could do the wash, and wash the clothes she had on. She had always been proud of her home as well, keeping it clean and tidy, showing exasperation as the children left clothing lying around, but gradually that began to slip as well, so I was taking over more of the household chores as time went by. After a time, I felt we should be confiding in our doctor but she was very reluctant at first. Eventually she agreed to see him; I think more to reassure me, than because she thought there was anything wrong. I had already prepared him somewhat, as I had always kept a journal and had given him the books that dealt with Rosa's decline. He first talked to Rosa, and then he asked me to come in to his office as well. I will remember his words for the rest of my life. He was very apologetic as he spoke, "Rosa; Tony; I don't know what to say. After reading the journals, and talking with Rosa, I can't really come to a diagnosis, other than to say Rosa; you are showing major signs of depression and possibly the beginnings of early dementia. I want you to see a neurologist first to see if there is any physical reason for this, so in preparation, I want to get a CAT scan done, and possibly one of the newer MRI scans, to rule out any possibility of brain damage. The MRI would have to be done in London as that is where the machines are. I left those thoughts behind as I looked out through the double doors that led to the garden outside, overlooking the Town of Sorrento and at the blue water that stretched to the horizon. Overlooking the blue water a passage of a well-known song came to mind. Hear the music of the waters, bars of tender passion sighing like thy heart to which go flying, all my thoughts in wakeful dream. Daydreaming, my mind flew back to when Rosa and I first met. I was a young soldier fighting in North Africa against the German and Italian armies. Unfortunately, in September of 1942, I was captured, luckily by the Italians, and became a prisoner of war. For me it seemed the war was over, I was transported to Italy, and placed in a prisoner of war camp near Pagani. I was one of the lucky ones, the commandant of the camp was an older man, as were most of the guards, as the younger men were still at the front in North Africa, so compared to most POWs we were treated quite well. While the food wasn't very good and certainly not plentiful, we were at least treated humanely by the guards. We were allowed to do more than a lot of POWs in other camps. Coronello Avasti, the camp commandant had obviously been a career army officer and kept his personnel, and us prisoners on our toes, by making snap inspections very often. Often he would just take a walk through the camp unescorted, just as if he were on a casual stroll; he would speak with us, always in Italian which we were slowly learning, but mainly limited to greetings such as Good Morning or How are you. I was on the prisoners escape committee which wasn't a hive of activity. The only way out was through the wire, the ground was too rocky to tunnel through, and the guards were on their toes all the time. All we could do was make false documents, and try to make our uniforms look like civilian clothes, in case we got the chance to get through the wire. We did have working parties going outside the camp, and occasionally a prisoner was able to escape from one of them, but they were usually caught quite quickly and returned, never to go out on a work party again. I had been in the camp about five months, and was sitting on the steps of our barracks one sunny day, when I was approached by the camp Sergeant Major, Sergente Maggiore Frescia. He told me that the Commandante wished to see me, and marched me across to the gate, and out of the prison compound. From the gate he took me to the office block and into the Commandante's office. There was a chair in front of Coronello Avasti's desk and Avasti motioned me to sit. He then said "Si puo lasciare ora Sergente Maggiore," telling him to leave the room. Frescia answered "Si Coronello," and turned and left the office. For a moment, Avasti didn't speak, but looked at me with a steady eye, as if he were measuring me up. Then he spoke, to my surprise in English with very little accent. "Sergeant Moore, This interview is not being recorded in any way, and what is discussed will be treated as secret between us." I replied, "Anthony George Moore, Sergeant, Regimental Number 14768934." He continued "Yes Yes, I am fully aware of the requirements of the Geneva Convention, however it I were to say that I am about to give you the opportunity to escape, would that make you more responsive to what I have to say?" I was amazed, "Coronello, what you say makes me wonder what is going on, what kind of trap this is." "No trap," he continued, "I am quite serious, so serious that if you turn down my request at the end of this interview you will be placed in solitary confinement, and held there until you are eventually released from this camp. Judging by the plans of our so called allies the Germans, that may not be long as they apparently intend taking custody of all prisoners and shipping them back to Germany "Why are you approaching me?" "Because you are a member of the Royal Engineers, and judging from some of the conversations I have overheard, you know how to effectively use explosives." "That hardly tells me anything, why do you need a person with explosives experience?" "I don't, but the partisans do. They have lots of explosives but lack the knowledge to use them effectively." "What has this to do with me?" "I believe you would be a good trainer." "What do I get out of this plan?" "The knowledge that the people you train will be harassing the Germans behind their front lines, and keeping soldiers busy that would otherwise be opposing your friends, not if but when they land. In addition you would have freedom within Italy, a good valid set of papers, and when you are done, the opportunity to escape back to your own forces." "Why you, a colonel in the Italian Army, you are not one I would associate with the partisans?" "Because I am first and foremost a proud Italian, then a long term officer who came up through the ranks, not all of us support Il Duce and the Fascisti. If you have been listening to your clandestine radio." At my surprised look he continued, "Yes I know you have one; you should know that in North Africa the situation for the Axis powers is not good, in fact the Allies are actively preparing to invade Sicily. We know it is coming but we don't know where or when. Our friends the Germans are making plans that in the face of an invasion of Italy, they are going to disarm the Italian soldiers. Then they will take power into their own hands, and fight the Allies off to protect the soft underbelly of France and Germany. As I said, all prisoners of war will be taken back to Germany. My plan at this camp when that begins is to open the gates and let all the prisoners escape, hopefully many of them will get down to the beaches, back to their own forces." "How long do you think this will take?" "Our idea is for you to train English speaking partisans, who can take that training back to their own groups." "Where will this happen?" "You will be with a group in the mountains near Sorrento to start, after that it will be up to yourself and the partisans to place you as best as possible." "How do we work this escape?" "On Monday of next week you will be assigned to a road gang, they will be working near Fabrizi. A green Fiat bakers van will approach from the direction of Fabrizi and be stopped by one of the guards. Another prisoner will start a fight, and while the guard's attention is diverted you will get into the van. There will be clothes and identification in the van. It will take you to the Trattoria Fellini, on the Via Corso in Sorrento where you will be met and guided further, you will ask for Fabrizi and your contact will ask, 'Are you Harlequin' that will be your code name in future." "What happens if the Germans stop us?" "Let your driver do the talking, your papers will show you were born in Sorrento and grew up in England. You avoided internment as you were a seaman, but the rest of your family didn't and were shipped to Canada. You have come back to Italy to help in the war." I accepted his offer, not that I had much choice, I didn't want to be locked in solitary for the rest of the war. I didn't say a word about it to the other prisoners, and the following Monday after an operation that went like clockwork; I was in a Fiat van heading for Sorrento. I changed into civilian clothes, and found papers in the name of Antonio Morelli, close enough to my real name, that I wouldn't get mixed up. Obviously the Commandante had supplied a photo of me to the person who made the papers, and they were stamped with the actual stamp of the Pallazzo Municipio in Sorrento. There was also money in the envelope to keep me going until I met up with the partisans. This whole experience showed evidence of a lot of planning, and made it obvious that all was not well in relations at lower levels between the Axis powers. It was a slick operation; there was no doubt of that. Eventually we arrived in Sorrento and I was deposited on the Via Roma, just a short walk from the Trattoria. I went in and sat at a table. A waiter came to me and I ordered coffee and a sandwich, then I asked if Fabrizzi was there. The waiter told me he wasn't there yet, and brought my order. As I was drinking the coffee, a stunning girl walked through the doorway, she was around five foot six, a beautiful oval face with a slightly olive complexion, and long flowing black hair. She was dressed in a varicolored cotton dress which ended just below the knee, and showed her body off well. There must have been some signal, as she came straight to my table and sat opposite me. She spoke English in a husky voice, questioning me, "Are you Harlequin?" I answered quickly, "Yes I am." She continued, "Come with me, I will take you to a safe place where we will not be disturbed." I paid my bill, and walked out into the sunny street with her. She linked her arm through mine saying as she did, "This is better, we must look natural, there are not many Germans around but there are many fascist sympathizers, so the less attention we draw, the better it will be. As it is we look like a young man and his sweetheart. I am Rosalita Fellini, my papa owns the trattoria and we are going to house you at our home until we can get you up into the mountains." We walked up a number of streets, going uphill and closer to the sea till we reached a doorway in a wall. Rosalita opened the door and ushered me through, saying as she did. "Welcome to the Villa Fellini, this has been my family's home for three generations." She took me into a spacious old two story home, covered in ivy, and showed me upstairs to what she said would be my bedroom, then she showed me around the house until we entered a large kitchen where an older woman was stirring a pot on the stove. She introduced me saying, "Mama this is Harlequin, he is going to be working with Paolo." She turned away from the stove and it was obvious where Rosalita got her looks. "Welcome Harlequin, that is what I will call you, if I don't know your real name, I cannot make any slips. We shall have to find you some more clothes and make sure they are all Italian made. Once you go into the mountains you won't get much chance of clean clothes. Come, I will measure you and see what I can find." She did that right away, telling me that as a girl she worked in her father's clothing store, then she left me with Rosalita. See the lovely dewy garden, breathing orange perfumed greetings; Naught can set my heart a-beating, like the fragrance of its bloom Rosalita took me out into a beautiful garden with masses of roses that overlooked the sea, as she said, to start my Italian lessons. It took a little while for her to get my attention, as I was struck by the beauty of the town, sloping down to the sea. The blue of the Mediterranean and the striking colours of the flowers in the garden took my breath away, it was wonderful after the stark utility of the camp where I had spent the last 5 months. I was lost in the beauty of my surroundings, and much more important, the beauty of my hostess. Rosalita took my breath away and I'm sure she stole my heart right there. We had to wait a week for the partisan group to return from an operation, so Rosalita gave me an intensive course in Italian. She was an excellent teacher, but much too good looking, and my mind very often concentrated on what I imagined lay beneath the dresses she was wearing. As it was she gave me no cause to believe that I was of any interest to her, and was pretty well strictly business. The last night that I was at the Villa, I was standing by the wall at the bottom of the garden, overlooking the sea, I would miss that sight when in the mountains. I felt a presence beside me, and turning a little I saw Rosalita standing close to me. She asked, "What are the deep thoughts you are thinking?" I replied in a low voice, "I am thinking that I will miss the sight of the sea, I come from Devon, where my town, Exmouth, overlooks the English Channel, and the sight of it soothes me. Also I will miss the smell and beauty of this garden, but above all I will miss your presence, your beauty and your personality. You have become a big part of my life, even though we have only been together a week." She blushed slightly. "Harlequin, in a short time you have become a part of our family. I will miss seeing you each day. All is not lost though, I am the messenger for the group and will be there at the camp each time there are messages. Then we will be able to spend some time together even if it is under the eagle eye of my brother Paolo." She reached out and took my hand; it was as if an electric shock had passed between us. Her other hand went to my face, and she pulled my head forward, and brushed my lips with hers, just the slightest contact, then turned and walked back into the house. A warm feeling coursed through my body, I couldn't believe it, this beautiful Italian woman had feelings for me. That night I got very little sleep thinking of her. Early next morning, with knapsacks on our backs, Rosalita and I started our trek out of town. We rode part of the way on two ancient bicycles, strings of onions hanging from our handlebars and necks, looking the part of country people selling vegetables. After riding for an hour and climbing higher up the mountain, we stopped, hid the bicycles in a copse, and began to climb a mountain track in earnest. After several hours, we got to a valley between two peaks, Rosalita waved toward the one peak and part way up the hill I saw a man with a rifle stand up and wave back. She looked at me and said, "Now we won't be shot, and the serious business begins." We walked a few hundred yards further and walked into an encampment where there were about thirty men. It's Time A tall bearded man stood up, and Rosalita ran across to him, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. She turned to me, "Harlequin, this is the group leader, my brother Paolo. Paolo, this is Harlequin, he was sent by the Coronello to help us." I noticed a wary look in his eyes, but he held out his hand to shake hands, I grasped it, and found his grip firm, giving a sense of confidence. I said to him, "As I know your name, it is only fair that you know mine, I'm Sergeant Tony Moore of the Royal Engineers. I believe I am here to teach how best to use explosives." He smiled, "That will be useful, we have had several men injured while trying to handle them yet they would be so useful. We have just come back from an interception of a German convoy. While we were able to stop the trucks with bullets, it would have been much easier if we could have blown up the road." "Well that is what I am here for." "I will have to consult some people before I will fully trust you." "That's fine, I don't mind, I think Rosalita has made her mind up already, I had lots of chances to betray your family and the Colonel before we came up here." Paolo got my name, rank and number and after waiting until dark, he went over to a small cave that I had not seen before. I saw the flare of a lantern and he was silhouetted in the light. He was gone about ten minutes, then came back, asking me where I had lived and my parents' names. He went back to the cave, and after a couple of minutes the light went out. He came over to where I was sitting with Rosalita, and told me he had been in contact with London, they would check that I was who I said, and contact him tomorrow, and while we waited I was not to leave the camp area. Early the next day I checked out the supplies of explosives and arms that the group had, finding they had guncotton slabs, plastic explosives and dynamite sticks, together with primers and detonators, both electrical and manual. I told Paolo that we needed rock drills and sledges as well, so when Rosalita left to return to Sorrento several partisans went with her to bring the tools back. Their arms were a mixed bag, some shotguns, some Italian army rifles, some German rifles and pistols, and some British Lee Enfield 303 rifles, Bren Guns, and Piat anti-tank weapons that had been dropped to them. They had cases of ammunition, and Mills 36m grenades. They were all hidden in a deeper cave whose entrance had been camouflaged. Later that night, Paolo contacted London once more; he came out of the cave and shouted to me, "What is the name of your mother's dog." I yelled back, "Unless he died since I left, he is named Patches." Paolo waved me over, and showed me the cave and the radio, "You gave the right answer, I trust you a lot more now, you have no reason to like the Germans." I was happily accepted by all the members of the group I did train them and others in the use of explosives, but I also began training them on all the weapons making suggestions as I did. One suggestion was a method of firing the grenades from a rifle, so that they could be used from a distance or fired in a ballistic curve that after 4 seconds would turn the grenade into an air burst bomb. Another was that the Piat bomb when fired at a tank was not that effective on armour plate, however firing one into the engine cavity of a truck stopped it pretty well dead. As Paolo got to know me and trust me, I convinced him to appoint lieutenants and make them responsible for sections of men. Also to approach other groups and propose joint attacks on tougher targets. To cut a long story short, that was the beginning of almost two years that I spent with the partisans. On September 3rd 1943, the British 8th Army, (The famed Desert Rats ) crossed the Straits of Messina and began fighting their way up the toe of the Italian boot. Then on the 9th of September US troops landed at Salerno and a combined British and American force landed at Taranto. Opposition was fiercest at Salerno and from our position in the mountains above Salerno we could hear the sounds of the fighting. We left our encampment to harass the Germans from the rear, but we only had light weapons and they were far too well organized for us to make a big difference, so we headed back into the mountains to our camp. That night when we contacted London, I asked if I should make my way to the British forces, and the reply was to stay where I was, that I was far more value as a teacher and coordinator with the partisans. As the Germans fought a determined rearguard action, the whole length of Italy, we fell back behind them, keeping up the pressure on their supply convoys. Occasionally I was cheered by the sight of Rosalita who had slipped through the lines and found us, bringing messages from home for the Gruppo Sorrento as we had now become known, also bringing reinforcements, as ex-soldiers from the Italian Army decided to join us. These visits were my salvation, as I got time to spend with Rosalita, so much time, that during one visit, Paolo became the protective big brother. He called me over one night, "Antonio my friend, I see you prefer the company of my sister Rosalita, to your companions?" I put out a hand and waved in the direction of our companions, "Honestly Paolo, do you blame me?" He laughed, "Antonio you have a point, but seriously when Rosalita is with us, I have a duty towards her and my family. Tell me, what are your intentions toward my sister?" "Paolo, don't say anything to Rosalita yet, but If she will have me, I intend to marry her." "Well my friend, I wouldn't mind you as a brother, but my advice to you is that the next time you go to Napoli for instructions from your high command, you extend your trip for a few days and go to Sorrento and ask my father for permission to marry Rosalita, and his blessing." "Thanks Paolo, I will do just that." The next time I was in Sorrento, my first stop was the Trattoria Fellini where I sought out Rosalita's father Arturo. I told him I wished to marry his daughter Rosalita, and asked him for his blessing. He willingly gave it, not only his permission, but he also gave me his mother's engagement and wedding rings, that she had entrusted to his care for Rosalita. It felt strange to walk the streets of Sorrento in absolute safety, not to worry about a German presence. My heart quickened as I approached the Villa Fellini where Rosalita's mother welcomed me like a long lost son. I couldn't wait, and asked Rosalita to walk in the garden with me. She did, and when we sat on a bench I spoke, "Rosalita, I have loved you since we first met, and want to spend the rest of my life with you, will you become my wife?" She blushed and replied, "Antonio, I have loved you since the first time we met, but wouldn't say so in case I lost you. Yes; I will marry you and bear our children, but first you must ask my father for his permission." I leant forward and kissed her, "That is already done my love, not only did he say yes, but he also gave me these." I slipped her grandmothers engagement ring on her finger, and showed her the wedding ring. She looked down at the ring on her finger, and a few tears ran down her face. "Don't worry my love, these tears are of happiness, I feel so happy, yet so sad that we had to meet because of war." I put my arm around her, "It just shows that even from the worst, good things can happen." We kissed again, and this time the kiss was so deep I felt it to the tip of my toes. She pulled back a little, smiled, then got up, "I must go tell Mamma, we will have lots to do," She rushed off into the kitchen to tell her mother. I followed slowly, and then suddenly Mamma Fellini grabbed me, pulled me into an embrace kissing both my cheeks. She stood back, hands on my shoulders, "Welcome to my family Antonio, I have hoped for that for a long time, you will be a good son." "Thank you Mamma Fellini." "No No, Mamma Sophia from now on, you are family." At 4 pm on Christmas Eve 1944, that became a reality, as clad in a stiff Italian suit, I stood before the altar of the Church of Saint Mary, Rosalita's parish church, with Paolo as my best man, looking at Rosalita walking down the aisle on her father's Arturo's arm, with Gabriela her sister and bridesmaid preceding her. A good proportion of the Gruppo was standing there in the pews, as most had travelled home for the Christmas celebrations and had joined us for the wedding. After the ceremony, we led a procession through the streets to the trattoria, where Arturo had prepared a positive feast. Given the rationing that existed then, he had excelled himself. It was the start of a great Fellini family party that lasted all night. Well that is what we were told the next morning, as the evening wore on, Sophia and Arturo prevailed on us to return to the villa and celebrate our marraige. We climbed the stairs, and for the first time I was privileged to enter Rosalita's bedroom, someone had obviously been ahead and prepared it, it was lit by candles, the double bed was turned down and a sign that read 'Beato Notte' was in the centre of the bed. Rosalita whispered, "Blessed Night." I turned her to me, kissing her as I did. "I love you Mrs. Moore, and as I have changed your last name, I want to change your first, from now on to me you are my Rosa, my Italian Rose, to remind me of when we first kissed in the rose garden." "I like that, you will be my Tonio, to make sure that I call you by the right name, as our first born son is to be named Anthony, or in Italian, Antonio. We slowly undressed each other, we had lots of time, we were to be the only ones in the Villa till the morning when Sophia would make breakfast. Naked we lay back on the bed as we slowly explored each other's bodies, getting more heated as we did, Rosa pulled my head down to her breast and I took her nipple into my lips, as my fingers rolled the other, then I slid my hand down her body, over her stomach and down between her legs as they opened, my fingers played with her until she was moving her vulva up and down against them and she was moaning my name. She slid her hand on to my hard penis, then said "Tonio, I want you in me." I moved between her legs, my penis lying against her abdomen as I raised my body above her. I asked, "Are you sure Rosa, are you ready?" She replied, "My Tonio, I am ready, I want you," as she took hold of me and aligned me with her vagina I slid into her slowly, reaching a tight spot and as I pushed through she jumped a little, then she opened fully to me as I began to speed up in an age old rhythm, and she began to do the same in return, her breath like mine coming in short gasps as if we could not get enough air, My mouth went over hers, and our tongues began to reach into each other as we went on to higher peaks, then both of us shuddering, my seed flooded into her as she pulled me in tight to her body. We lay there till I began to soften, and I slid to one side to take my weight off her. "Can we do that again?" she asked "Once I've recovered a little." I told her "It was wonderful, Tonio I'm going to give you lots of babies," she whispered. "I'll help you." was my gallant reply. Help I did, we managed to come together three times before we were so tired that we had to sleep, then again the next morning as we could smell breakfast cooking. Then reluctantly, we got cleaned up, dressed and went downstairs to celebrate Christmas. Two days after Christmas, Paolo and I were off to the north again, our comrades with us to keep the Germans off balance. For the next three months we kept at them, harassing them and driving them toward the border with Austria. Really they were a defeated army, and were passing through partisan controlled territory, with one desire, to get home without being killed. We were even stopping German convoys, ensuring that they were not taking Italian collaborators with them. In that way Benito Mussolini, the deposed Duce, was found hiding in the back of a German lorry, taken prisoner, tried and executed. After about three months, Paolo called me and his lieutenants together for a conference. Partisan groups were now fighting among themselves, the Communists against the Catholics, the Royalists against the Socialists, one group set against the other. He felt it was time that the Gruppo Sorrento went home, we had done all we could do, much more than he had visualized when he set the group up. It was time to rejoin our families. We all agreed with him and quickly wrapped up our camp, and started for home. Once we reached Milan we could travel by train and after turning over our weapons to an allied unit, we rode to Naples as quickly as we could. Once I was there, I had to report in to military intelligence and make my reports. The officer in charge was all set to send me back to Britain, but I explained to him that I had a wife in Sorrento. He was most concerned as to whether I had my Commanding Officers permission to marry, and when I asked him who my commanding officer was, he said, "I suppose it was the head of your group." I laughed and told him, "In that case we have nothing to worry about, I married his sister, and he was my best man." The captain noted on my file that I was married, and then told me that a hospital ship would be docking in Naples the next week, then sailing for Britain. He was sure that because of Rosa's pregnancy room could be made for us on board. In the meantime he lent me a jeep to get to Sorrento and back again so that we could be back in time for military passports to be issued. I said to him, "I didn't need a passport to get here, why do I need one to get home?" He just laughed at me. That night I parked the jeep in the street outside the Villa Fellini and went in to the garden. Rosa raced out of the house, jumped into my arms, kissing me like crazy; she had been worried that I could be sent to the front to a British unit. I put her down, and looked at her, she looked wonderful, she had a real glow about her, and she looked a little bigger around the breasts, then I looked down and saw a small swelling in her abdomen. She smiled at me, nodding, "Yes, it is little Antonio or maybe little Angelique." As she reached her arms around my neck she whispered, "Yes; you are going to be a father, are you happy about that?" I said to her, "I love it my love, that puts the icing on the cake, I couldn't want more. Now how do you feel about leaving for England? There is a ship leaving Naples next week that we can sail on, otherwise I might have to leave you behind and go back on military transport, then come back for you." Her smile slipped a little, "I will go wherever you go, It will be hard to leave this beautiful town and harder to leave my home and my family, but it will be easy to remember that we won't be that far from them." Over the next couple of days she had a little more time to get used to the idea, and by the Sunday we had the jeep packed and ready to leave after Mass. The priest knew that we were leaving and mentioned it after his homily. He thanked me for what I had done for Italy, but he also reminded me of what Italy had done for me, provided me with a wonderful wife and a new family. After the service, and some rather tearful goodbyes back at the Villa, we were on our way to Naples, as Rosa put it, on the next stage of our life together. In Naples we were put in a hotel for a couple of nights while the documentation was finished. I really enjoyed seeing Rosa's passport, under Nationality she was listed as British by marriage. We boarded RMS Atlantis, a hospital ship that was taking wounded home to Britain and luckily had a cabin to ourselves. We ate with the walking wounded, and it was a sobering thought both to Rosa and me that we had been really lucky that in two years, neither of us had been seriously hurt. As the submarine menace in the Mediterranean was over, the trip as far as Gibraltar was uneventful. At Gibraltar we heard that the war with Germany was over; that Germany had surrendered unconditionally, and we watched as two German U Boats sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar, and into port under white flags. The Atlantis sailed without a convoy and after a 5 day voyage she sailed up the Solent into Southhampton, where we and the injured disembarked. Unlike the wounded who were loaded into ambulances and taken directly to hospital, Rosa and I along with a few others had to go through the Military Movements office in the dockyard, and also Customs and Immigration. The immigration office accepted the military passport for Rosa without a problem, though they recommended that she apply for permanent citizenship. The MMO had been notified that we were coming, and had made arrangements for us. I was given a 14 day leave pass, a rail warrant for both of us to Exmouth where my parents kept a small hotel on the Esplanade, and another rail warrant, single this time to Barton Stacey where I was to report to the Royal Engineers transit camp, for demobilization. They also gave us temporary ration books until permanent ones could be issued by the Ministry of Food. We were lucky and caught the express from Southhampton to Exeter, then the local train from Exeter to Exmouth. Rosa was ecstatic with the view as we travelled down the bank of the Exe, it was clear now apart from small fishing craft, yet the last time I had seen it, when I left Exmouth after embarkation leave, the river was crowded with small naval craft that were being worked on. That was before I went to North Africa, now it looked at peace. When we arrived at Exmouth we splurged on a taxi as it was too far to carry our bags, luckily a lot of our or should I say Rosa's clothing and belongings was being delivered by rail after it was unloaded from the ship. I didn't have much; you don't acquire much in the field with a resistance group, where everything usually has to be carried on your back. When the taxi drew up in front of the hotel where I had grown up, Rosa gasped, it was three stories high, and double fronted and had recently been re painted. The garden was in full bloom and Dad's roses were beautiful. It was totally different from Exeter where we had seen the devastation of Hitler's reprisal raids in 1942. I thought to myself that Mum and Dad were in for a shock, they hadn't heard from me since I had been in the POW camp. I had no way of posting any letters from Italy to England, even if I had had the time to write them. We walked into the hall, it hadn't changed a whole lot, the wallpaper was still green and the paintwork varnished a dark brown. The reception desk was in the same place, but I didn't recognize the girl behind the desk. I asked if there were any rooms to spare, she said no, they were full of war workers. I smiled and asked "Are you quite sure?" "Oh yes sir, absolutely full" "Are Mrs. and Mr. Moore around?" "Yes, they are in their private rooms." "Could I speak to them please?" "Yes, I'll get them." She walked to the back of the hallway where the family rooms were, and a moment later came back, "Mrs. Moore will be right out." "Thank you." Just then the door at the end of the hallway opened, and my mother was standing there, she looked at me, her hand went up to her mouth as she gasped, then she found her voice. "Dad come out here, our Tony is home, he's here." Soon I saw my dad standing behind her. "Mum, Dad, come on out, I have someone for you to meet." They came out, my Mum running and hugging me, and then they both saw Rosa. "Mum, Dad I want you to meet your daughter, Rosa and I were married in Sorrento on Christmas Eve." Mum got over her surprise quicker and walked to Rosa; throwing her arms around her she hugged her. "Rosa, welcome to the family, even if this is this first time we've met, you are Tony's choice as a bride, and I welcome you as a daughter, I hope you will be very happy with us, and while I may be mistaken, I think the pair of you are going to present us with a grandchild before long." It's Time Rosa grinned, "Yes Mrs. Moore, Tony found out all of four weeks ago that he was going to be a father." Mum answered quickly, "Rosa, no formality, you are Mrs. Moore as well, please call me Amelia or Amy like everybody else does, or Mum, and Henry answers to either that or Dad, no formality around here. Now the pair of you come on back to the living room and tell us what has been going on. Tony, the last we heard, you were locked up tight in a POW camp, and I was happy that you were safe." Over the next two weeks, we told them what had been happening, how we met and fell in love and how I got a new family. The weather was very good, and Rosa and I walked all over Exmouth, she loved the area, and one day while we were just on the outskirts of town walking along the cliffs we saw some cottages whose gardens were long and reached the edge of the cliffs. They were all occupied at the time, but Rosa told me there and then that she wanted one of those cottages to live in at some time. One day, we went into Exeter to do some shopping, and while we were there, I took Rosa round the cathedral and some of the older buildings, many of which had been damaged in the blitzes of 1940 and 1942. The damages amazed her because Sorrento had been pretty well undamaged. While we were walking around we came to the Devonshire Police headquarters. On a notice board outside, I happened to see a notice that they were looking for applicants to serve on the force. I talked with Rosa, and we decided that I should apply. We went in to enquire, and the sergeant in the information room asked me a few questions, took a look at me, then quickly escorted me through the administration offices to meet with the Inspector in charge of recruiting. After hearing what I had been doing during the war, and that I expected to be demobilized within two weeks, he had me complete the admission exams while I was there, and arranged for me to see the Police Surgeon for a physical examination. While she was waiting, Rosa was treated to coffee in the police canteen by a woman police constable, and made aware of what was required of the wives of basically country coppers. I must have made a good impression, as when I reported to Barton Stacey, I had an offer of employment, conditional on demobilization. Reporting to Barton Stacey was another experience. Unfortunately in the British Army, as in others, some persons are promoted beyond the limits of their ability, unfortunately such was the case with the Provost Sergeant in charge of the guardroom, who couldn't get his head around the fact that when somebody joins the partisans, they don't take their uniform, paybook, or the rest of their kit, especially if they had been a POW. All that I had were my identity tags that I had been able to leave at the Villa Fellini. Eventually I convinced him to call the duty officer and we got everything sorted out. As I had no uniform to hand in, the formalities didn't take long once they had read the letter from my control in Naples. I stayed overnight for the one night, and was issued a leave pass for a week, and a rail warrant back home, plus demobilization clothes which consisted of a cheap suit, shoes, socks, shirt and underwear. I was also given a week's wages, and told that I would be paid back dated to the day I was captured. A week later, I was reporting in to the Devonshire Police training centre in Plymouth for the first of two six week training courses, separated by 6 months working with another officer. Rosa wasn't too impressed when she found that I was going to have to stay at the centre during the week, but my parents assured her that she was welcome to be with them, Mum was delighted that she had someone to look after for a while, and wouldn't let Rosa do much around the hotel. After the course, I worked for two months in Exeter, learning how to work a beat, getting to Exmouth on my days off, and then as Rosa's due date came closer, I was moved to Exmouth and worked out of the main station there. A lot of the time I was on the Esplanade beat so that I could check in with Rosa to see how she was doing. Eventually I was told that the doctor had been called, and after an exhaustive labour for Rosa, we became the parents of an eight and a half pound baby boy, Anthony Charles Moore. Shortly after the birth, I was back at the training centre, getting home as often as possible to see the newborn. Of course his mother and grandmother were in their element looking after him. If things got too much for Rosa and she became tired, mum was right there ready to help, and they both did lots of walking, pushing the pram either to the shops or along the Esplanade. The autumn was beautiful, and the air warm, so Anthony spent a lot of time outside in the pram, either in the garden or out on walks. A favourite walk for Rosa was up to the cliffs, where she always mentioned that she wanted the centre cottage of the three. At this time it seemed way beyond our budget. After I completed training, I was posted to the village of Ottery St Mary, to a two man police station. Unfortunately for Rosa, I replaced the constable who lived in the house attached to the police station, so that is where we lived. Rosa found she was living the life of a typical country Bobbie's wife, answering the telephone, answering the door when I was away, calling the information room at Exeter when something was reported to her. The wives of the country Bobbies certainly had to work, running the office when needed as well as raising a family. Still as we were to find out, the life of a police wife wasn't easy no matter what the rank. Just after Anthony was born, my back pay came through from the Army. It amounted to a little less than 600 pounds. When I asked what we would get with it, Rosa's answer was, "Nothing, we put it in the bank to start saving for our cottage." So that is what I did, it started our savings, which we added to from time to time. Country Bobbies are not going to get rich, not if they do their jobs properly and any sudden increase in lifestyle had to be explained. We saved what we could, fortunately living in police accommodation meant we didn't pay rent, and I planted a vegetable garden in behind the police station, continuing the practice of the last constable who had done the same during the war, when it was required, so we were able to put a little money in the bank, not a whole lot as the constables of the time were not very well paid. Rosa had made a point of seeking out and befriending Alberto Rossi, the Italian Consul in Plymouth. He had heard our stories, and had done some checking himself with the authorities in Italy. I was surprised to receive an invitation to an awards presentation and banquet held in Exeter, usually this would only be attended by Sergeants and up, and their wives. Rosa and I went, and during the presentation were both surprised when Alberto was introduced. He talked about how pleased he was to be there, but then suddenly asked me to come forward. While I was standing there in front of the head table, he told the story of my work with the partisans, and to my great surprise pinned on my lapel the insignia of the Military Order of Italy. To say that I was surprised was an understatement, especially when he said that the medal could only be awarded with the consent of the President. This award created a buzz of excitement in the division, and my section sergeant at the time asked why I didn't have any other decorations. I explained to him that I thought that if I had to ask for them, then they couldn't be worth very much. He urged me to send in a request, and much to my surprise I found myself back at headquarters in front of a parade, while the general officer commanding all the troops in the area was in addition to the War Medal, the Africa Star and the Italy Star, pinning a DSO on to my jacket. Apparently, as he put it, due to my rather unorthodox career, the award had slipped through the cracks. As life turned out, I don't think either award did any harm to my career. As well as a wife who adored me and our son, I had a job that interested me so I had no problem studying and retaining the law, and procedures that a copper needs. After the first time I wrote the sergeants law examination, I showed the questions to a lawyer I knew who after looking at it said, "You have to know everything I know, the biggest difference is that you have to apply the knowledge in split seconds, I can take forever to look it up." Anyway I qualified first time around and quickly found myself working as a patrol sergeant in Exeter. On the home front, while I had no particular religious leanings there than a belief in God, Rosa of course was a Catholic, so out of respect for her beliefs we didn't make any attempt at birth control, resulting in the rapid appearances of Angelique and Paul. With three children under 5, we had a pretty busy time. Fortunately after Paul's birth, fate took a hand for a while, until ten years later, Rosa told me that we were having a latecomer, our second daughter Amelia, after my mother. Just after Paul's birth I was made Detective Sergeant which put me in civvies and made a big difference in hours, thanks to lots of overtime we were able to save more. When Mum called us one day to say that Rosa's dream cottage was up for sale for 3,000.00 pounds, we were able to put down a healthy deposit, and as we planned to rent the cottage out for several years, the bank was well disposed toward a mortgage. My career went ahead, and eventually I was promoted to Divisional Inspector for the Exmouth Division. Rosa was delighted; we could move into our cottage and start modernizing it inside. By this time Anthony was about to join the Royal Air Force and take pilot training, Angelique was aiming for University to study medicine, Paul favored the social services though he was only half way through grammar school, and the baby of the family was just about to start infants school. The interior modifications were my responsibility, and Rosa's overriding interest was her garden that sloped down toward the edge of the cliffs. She made it a haven of beauty, just like her mother's garden in Sorrento. I built a love seat where we could both sit and on summer nights we could be found cuddled together looking out over the Channel with Amelia and our dog Juno at our feet. Throughout our lives, Rosa had never given me a single moment to think that she may have gone against the vows she made at our wedding, in fact the very opposite. When we attended any functions, she always gave me her impressions of the men there, without any political correctness at all. In fact we were at a dinner dance one night organized by the police association when one of the detective Inspectors, a known philanderer asked her for a dance. She looked at me, and I just nodded go ahead. One of our friends asked, "Aren't you bothered about Rosa dancing with Jack, you know how his hands wander." "No, Rosa can well look after herself, she handled German soldiers, Jack is nothing compared to them." Just a couple of minutes later I heard a slap and "a te porco, you pig, don't you try to touch me in a way only my husband can, he is more man than you will ever be." My flippant remark to my friend was "See, I told you so." then Rosa came storming off the dance floor. Unfortunately for Jack the Chief Constable was present, and had an investigation made. He was given the opportunity to transfer to another force, resign, or face a charge of sexual assault. He transferred to a force in the Midlands. Life was good, we got back to Sorrento once in a while to see Rosa's family, Arturo and Sophia passed away, but we still got to see Paolo who had taken over the Trattoria, his wife Angelina and their children, Gabriella and her husband and children, and Rosa's younger brother Marco and his family. Our children were growing, and as healthy as could be. I became a Detective Chief Inspector, reassigned to Exeter. As I was on call a lot, I was given my own car, so I was spared the local train ride daily. Anthony completed his commitment to the RAF and left with a full commercial pilot and multi-engine licences. We proudly saw Angelique or Angela as she was usually called graduate from medical school, and she became a partner in a family practice in Exmouth. Paul graduated with a degree in social sciences, and applied to the UN for a position in the UNESCO organization, travelling all over the world. Eventually I was promoted to Superintendent, and placed in charge of the Exmouth Division. After a couple of years, I tired of the desk job, and retired. Rosa and I travelled and enjoyed our cottage home for several years, until Paul was killed and Rosa went into her decline. Now I hear that thou must leave me, thou and I will soon be parted Can'st thou leave me broken hearted? Will thou never more return? I remembered that February Thursday afternoon, the grey wintry day when we sat in Doctor Richard McGowan's Harley Street office, he was the best neurologist in the country so we were told. Rosa, Angelique who Rosa had finally allowed to become involved, and me, sat in a circle around his desk. His demeanor was grave and it was obvious that he did not have good news for us. He spoke in a gentle voice, with a mild Scottish accent. "I'm afraid that I have bad news for you all, first of all, Mrs. Moore is not suffering from early dementia. It is something much more serious, that I can see on the MRI tests." He turned and lit up a light panel on the wall beside him. Angelique's sudden breath in warned me that there was nothing good coming now. Doctor McGowan continued, pointing out some white patches on the film. "Rosa has a brain cancer that is quite advanced, several areas of the brain are affected, right now the short term memory is slightly affected and a little cognitive impairment. As the tumours grow, they will press on areas of the brain that control the bodily functions, and eventually cause paralysis and death." I was totally dazed by the news as was Rosa and Angelique, I asked. "What about surgery, can't anything be done?" He replied, "I knew you would ask that, so I'll ask my partner Doctor Massey to come in, he is a top neurosurgeon, and he can best answer that." He flipped a switch on his intercom and asked his secretary to ask Doctor Massey to come in." In about a minute, as we digested what we had been told, there was a knock on the door, and another Doctor came in. Doctor McGowan summarized what he had told us, and asked Doctor Massey for his thoughts on the MRI pictures. He spoke up, "Well Richard, as you know, I have already reviewed the films, and I cannot in all conscience recommend surgery. The tumour has already invaded some vital areas and it is at the base of the brain, extremely difficult to get at. If surgery is done, the possibility of permanent brain damage is extremely high. As a surgeon, I would not want to perform surgery, there is too great a probability that Mrs. Moore would be left without motor skills, memory, and even suffer a permanent coma." Rosa asked, "What about radiation, or chemotherapy?" Doctor McGowan replied. "I have consulted an oncologist and her opinion is that the radiation and chemotherapy regime would have to be extremely aggressive. So aggressive that you would be extremely sick, and the cancer would still not be cured. It would result in maybe 6 to 12 months more time." "How long would I have if I did not take that treatment?" "Between 6 months and a year, maybe a little longer." His statement took my breath away; I was going to lose my Rosa, who had been by my side for so long. All our hopes and dreams were going to be dashed by this dread disease. Rosa spoke again, "If I do not have treatment, what will happen?" "You will gradually lose your faculties, sight, smell, the ability to walk until the cancer depresses your system to the stage that you can no longer breathe." "Will there be a lot of pain?" "Not until almost the end and that can be easily controlled." Rosa looked at me, then at Angelique then turned to Doctor McGowan. "While the thought of leaving my family hurts so much, I have made my decision and I don't want any argument from my family. I want to leave this world quietly and at my own pace, therefore I don't want radiation or chemotherapy. If we had not consulted our doctor about my depression, we would not have known about this until possibly I died so we will leave things the way they are." Doctor McGowan interjected, "Mrs. Moore; I admire your courage, I cannot help but agree with your decision, and you surprise me, most people given what literally amounts to a death sentence would be crying in that chair." I couldn't help but say something. "Doctor, the might of the German Reich could not depress Rosa's determination, nor will cancer. Any crying we do will be done in private, together." He prescribed some medication for Rosa's depression, and made an appointment for more MRI's in 3 months, and then we left. When we got home, we huddled together on the love seat in the garden, then we cried, it seemed for hours, the tough partisan, and the calm cool copper were gone and all that was left was the desolated lover. Next day we called the family together for supper, and we told the rest, children and grandchildren what was happening to Mama Rosa, so that they all knew, some of the grandchildren were too young to understand anything other than Mama Rosa was sick. When they had all returned to their homes, Rosa and I went out to the garden, it was a calm night, no wind and one could almost feel the spring coming. We hugged and kissed, and then Rosa sat back and looked at me. "Tonio, I want one thing when I die, I want you to take me to Sorrento, to the villa where I was born, and let me die there." I replied, "Rosa, for two years fighting with the partisans, and during forty years of marriage, you have been my rock and my support. I promise that I will do that for you." The anti-depressants that the doctor had prescribed worked well, and for six months it was almost is if Rosa was fully well, she regained her interest in sex, in her garden and her home. Then while mentally aware, she started to go downhill physically, her gardening and cleaning that had been such a joy became physically exhausting. Walking became difficult so we got her a wheel chair, and converted a downstairs room into a bedroom. Gradually her arms lost their muscle tone, and lifting things became difficult so it was easier for me to feed her. I bathed her, dressed her, took her to the bathroom, then later changed the diapers that she had to wear. Usually Angelique would give me a break on her days off so that I could look after the garden, do some shopping, or just plain take an hour for myself. This regime didn't hurt my feelings a bit, as I knew that if the circumstances were the opposite way around, Rosa would have done exactly the same. Angelique had also prescribed anti-depressants for me, as I was blaming myself a lot, for the fact that I could not do more for Rosa to make things easier. They really helped me to get through what was happening. I had talked to Anthony about being able to fly Rosa to Sorrento. At first he asked if it was worth it, as at the end, Rosa would not know where she. My reply was, "Maybe your mum won't know where she is. But I will and I won't break a promise to her." He was now running a flying school out of Plymouth and he told me that he would handle it. One of his friends, who ran a private air ambulance service out of the same airport, would lend him the aircraft, Anthony would pilot it, all it would cost us was the fuel, and we could even take some of the family with us. The children had a meeting between themselves and their families, and as Anthony told me, they had decided that our three surviving children would accompany us to Sorrento, and when Rosa passed on, the rest of the family would fly out for the funeral service. It's Time Two weeks ago, fifteen months from the date we had first seen Doctor McGowan, Rosa's thin body had been lifted from her bed overlooking her beloved garden, and as I had arranged with the Chief Fire Officer she was taken by ambulance to the airport at Plymouth, then transferred into the air ambulance. After a smooth flight, we landed at Sorrento where she was transferred to an ambulance arranged by Paolo, and taken to the villa. He had given us his downstairs study which had French windows opening on to the garden, a hospital bed for Rosa and a single bed alongside it for me. Angelique had sedated Rosa for the trip, and when the sedatives wore off and we raised the head of the bed, she looked out into the garden, and as best she could, she smiled. Looking at me, she whispered "Thank you," and fell back on to her pillows. For the last two weeks, we had been in that room, except for me leaving for a little, when Angelique was there looking after her mother. Rosa had been tougher than we thought. She kept most of her faculties to the end, though they were limited, she had very little strength, and her speech and sight were still there, though very weakened, until now when she seemed to be slipping away Then say not 'goodbye' Come back again, beloved Back to Sorrento, or I must die Just then Angelique came into the room, and checked her mother, "Dad, It's almost time, Mum can't last much longer, she is barely breathing." Leaving her alone with her mother, I went into the kitchen where Anthony and Amelia were sitting talking with Paolo and his wife. "Kids." They would always be kids to me, "It is time, we don't think Mum has long left, Paolo, Angelina, would you please come with us." They all rose and came into the room. Paolo opened the French windows and we all began to move Rosa's bed through the windows and down the ramp Paolo had built, to a spot among the roses. He had erected a tent of plastic sheeting, so that even if it rained we were protected, As it was, it was a fine summer night, clear, the warm air carrying the odor of the roses. Paolo brought chairs, placing them around the bed and we sat throughout our vigil, me holding Rosa's hand, Angelique holding her other wrist, checking her pulse from time to time. All of us were bound up in our own prayers for Rosa's soul. Just as the sun was coming up over the hills behind us, illuminating the blue waters of the bay below, Rosa gave a deep sigh, her hand relaxed and her chest was still. Angelique checked for her pulse, both at her wrist and neck and with tears in her eyes said, "Dad, she has gone. I stood, leant over Rosa, and gave her my last kiss. "Au revoir my love, we will meet again before long." Anthony and Paolo also kissed her brow, and then led me from the garden to allow the women to prepare Rosa's body for the undertaker. Epilogue Two days later, with all the family present a Funeral Mass was said for Rosa at the Church of Saint Mary, where she had been baptized and married. Then the undertaker took her body to the crematorium, where she was cremated and her ashes placed in two urns. One was interred in the garden of the Villa Fellini, with all the families present. Several days later the other was interred in her rose garden at the cottage with our own family present... Affixed to the wall above each was a simple plaque reading 'Here lie the ashes of Rosalita Fellini Moore, Partisan, and beloved Wife and Mother. 1925 to 2002. After the interment, we went into the house and had a meal, then most of the family went home. Angelique decided to stay and keep me company for a while, and try to get me to relax. I went through into our bedroom and opened the wall safe that I had installed. I removed a small box, walked over to the bed, sat on the side, and opened the box. Looking down I saw nestled in cotton wool, two brown glassine capsules, the same two that Rosa and I had carried throughout the war in case we were captured and tortured by the Gestapo, they contained cyanide. I sat there lost in thought, thinking of Rosa, our lives and how deeply I missed her. Suddenly I heard Angelique say, "Dad, don't, please don't, we need you?" I looked up; she was standing in the doorway, so like her mother at the same age. There were tears in her eyes as she continued. "Yes Dad, I know what they are, Mum showed them to me years ago when we had been talking about what you both did in the war. I know you miss Mum and that she was the love of your life, we miss her too, and it would be unbearable if we lost you too, especially for your grandchildren. Please give me the pills and I will get them destroyed." She came over and put her arms around me. "Dad, you and Mum provided us with the most loving home I have ever known. Now let us do that for you." Then I couldn't avoid it, for the first time since Rosa died I broke down in tears, and cried tears of sorrow until I could cry no more. Angelique held me just like she would a child, and cried with me. I put the lid back on the little box, and gave them to her. "Here, they have to be crushed well away from people as the gas given off can kill." "I'll dispose of them in the hospital incinerator, that is enclosed and they won't harm anybody. Now pack a case and come home with me, come see your grandchildren. They need to have you around for a while yet." Between us we packed a small suitcase and after we had walked out the door, making sure it was locked, and walked to the gate, I turned and looked back at the deserted cottage, whispering 'It's just for a few days Rosa, I'll be back to look after your roses.' The End