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Hope

By: Chicklet



This is not a story about sex. I wanted this to be a glimpse of a relationship, and a conversation between two people. If you're looking for sex, then please don't read this story, because it will only disappoint you. If you're looking for an interesting read, this might be up your alley. I am trying to improve my writing skills, to keeping unnecessary words out of my work. Please let me know if you think that this story is less "wordy" than my other work, so I'll know if I accomplished what I was looking for. Thank you - Chicklet

I saw her on the streets, selling herself for money to buy god only knows what. Her eyes were sunken, her body slumping and ugly in the cheap clothes she wore. Shaking my head, I tried to put her out of my mind, continuing down the streets and ignoring her as she offered services to me. 

Diana was already sitting at a table in the diner. Scooting into the seat across from her, I surprised her by rubbing my foot against her leg.

"Oh," she exclaimed, looking up at me. 

"How are you, pet?" I asked, smiling warmly at her. As usual her cheeks flushed as I said the words of greeting. She had been in my service for months now but still got a special embarrassed sort of excitement by acknowledging me in public.

"Good, Sir," she said, softly. 

"What was that?" I asked, not allowing her eyes to break contact with mine.

"Good, Sir," she said, a little louder this time. 

"I'm glad to hear it, pet," I smiled again, rubbing my foot more insistently on the inside of her ankle. Tapping on her feet I indicated that she should spread her legs for me, and she did. "Did you pass the prostitute on the corner as you walked here?" I asked, indicating my head towards the direction the woman was working.

Diana nodded and a strand of her blonde hair came loose from her ponytail. With long, slender fingers she brushed the stray strand behind her ear, all while keeping her eyes with mine. 

"She looked sad, didn't she?" I asked, a bit softly. In Diana's presence I usually kept my voice deep, commanding, the voice I knew she expected from me as her Master. Her eyes showed some surprise at my soft tone.

"Yes, Sir," she agreed, her own voice dropping. "She did look sad."

The waitress came by and I smiled at her as she poured my coffee. When she was gone I looked back at my Diana.

"How would you feel, pet, if it were you out there?"

Diana shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a shiver visibly traveling through her body. "Ashamed, Sir," she said. 

"Why is that, pet?"

For the first time since I had sat down Diana's eyes left mine, shifting a little bit before she spoke. 

"I'm not quite sure, Sir," she said. "It seems shameful, what she's doing. Selling her body to get by."

I nodded, picking up my coffee cup and taking a sip of the strong brew. "I know what you mean," I said.

"Do you think…" Diana broke off. She probably thought that I would be cross with her for speaking without being spoken to, but I was not.

"Go on," I said, kindly.

"Do you think that she is ashamed?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "It is probably the only way she knows. She is trapped there, on that corner, without a way to escape."

"It would seem that her predicament is worse than any sort of bondage," Diana shivered. I smiled at her analogy. "There is no way for her to escape. She doesn't even have a safe word, she can't get free no matter what."

I didn't say anything in reply, only sipping more of my coffee and looking out the window behind Diana. 

"Sir," she said silently. I looked up and nodded for her to continue. "Do you think that there's anything we could do for her?"

"I don't know," I mused, looking at the swirling liquid in my cup. "I don't think so."

"Could we try, Master?" she asked. 

I was a bit surprised when she said it. At home, during play or private dinners together, she called me Master, but in public she'd never gone further than "Sir." I looked into her face, at the pleading expression in her eyes, the pursing of her lips. She seemed serious about this.

"I don't know how we could, pet," I said. Her face showed disappointment. I thought that maybe something in her was changing towards me. To her I was all-powerful at times, the upper hand directing her on the right path. Almost like a parent is to a child, and I was telling her that I didn't know the answer to her plea.

"Neither do I," she said sadly. Our breakfasts came and we ate in near silence. 

"What would you do if I asked you to go out on that corner," I asked her, trying to lighten up our conversation.

"How do you mean, Sir?" Diana asked, but I saw a sparkle in her eyes that told me she knew what I meant.

"Think she would like some competition?" I teased, tickling her foot under the table with my own.

"Probably not, Sir," Diana said, her lips in a frown. I winked at her, and her frown eased a bit.

"Would you ask strangers to use your body?" I prodded, moving my foot up towards her inner thighs. She shivered, her eyes closing as she let the sensations of my foot on her skin wash through her.

"If it pleased you, Sir," she said. She had agreed, but her voice was shaky. It told me a lot, those shaky words, and I smiled.

"It wouldn't please me, pet," I said, and Diana visibly relaxed. "I want you to know that no matter how deep we get into the play, you are always freer than that woman out there. You always have the right to choose escape, to leave, to say no. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Diana whispered. I saw the smile on her lips, the look in her eyes that said she would never leave me, and it warmed me up inside.

"Let's finish up here and go back to my place," I said.

"Yes, Sir," Diana whispered again, and I could hear the hunger in her voice. 

Outside, the prostitute had moved past the window, her arm around a middle aged man. I wondered if there was hope of escape for her.

Hope



I leaned back in the recliner, My eyes closed, trying to catch My breath. The fire warmed My bare skin quite nicely, while the cool air was quite noticeable upon My dampened hardness. 

I thought of the experience just ended: the beautiful and willing naked young woman kneeling at My feet, each ankle shackled to a different heavy iron ball, each wrist cuffed and attached with minimal chain to a bondage belt, her bald head descending slowly as her tongue teased Me and My length entered her throat, her lips pressed firmly around the root, My fingernails curling into her unprotected scalp as she tried to swallow Me whole, her tongue dancing with the grace of a butterfly, My willpower fading as she applied the knowledge gained through several years of training with My Colleague in Eichwalde... 

Slowly, My eyes opened anew, and I gazed upon this beautiful, dutiful creature. So enchanting were her eyes: large, expressive orbs of crystalline blue reflecting the firelight as she looked up at Me with desire and respect. The small smile upon her dainty lips demonstrated the satisfaction she felt at having successfully accomplished the assigned task of pleasuring Me without the use of her small hands. 

"My Colleague has indeed trained you quite well," I acknowledged softly, My voice low and nearly masked by the crackling of the burning logs nearby. she did not speak; she only blushed ever so slightly, the rosiness barely discernable in the light emanating from the fireplace. 

With a gesture, I ordered her to stand. It took a few moments for her to obey since she did not have the use of her hands, but she did indeed comply, slowly rising with a gracefulness expected of a professional ballerina. 

Two days she had been in My secluded home, an unexpected early birthday present from My Colleague several months after the tragic death of My former slave alyssa. While I still was not quite accustomed to having a completely-hairless slave - even her eyebrows had been shaved - I was starting to grow fond of the vision. 

"Master Fruendt and I have some different ideas on how a model slave should appear. I must admit, I was not particularly enamored with the fully-hairless look, but that is starting to change, thanks to you." 

she smiled with her lips and with her eyes, her breasts slightly more prominent as her back arched instinctively. 

Yet My attention kept returning to her hairless state. Not for the first time, I reached out to her, stroking her flat stomach, moving My hand toward her right arm, feeling nary a hair and not even the smallest hint of stubble. My Colleague's gift was indeed an intriguing anomaly. 

"Sit in My lap," I instructed, bringing My legs together. Due to the heavy iron balls, it took her a few extra moments to cross the very short distance so that she could comply. she sat silently, gazing into My eyes as I touched her, My fingertips amazed at the complete lack of even the slightest hint of hair anywhere upon her. As an added bonus for her, My fingertips' journeys across her soft pale skin slowly aroused her, noted by the subtle change in her breathing and the slight parting of her unpainted lips. 

"So different from alyssa," I commented softly into her ear. "I noticed you admiring the pictures of her. One of the things I loved about her most was her lengthy hair, long and silky, natural smoky-red strands, cascading down to just below her waist..." For just a moment, I thought I saw alyssa standing in profile by the fireplace, her usual nudity essentially masked by the lengthy hair which I had so often brushed with loving care, the same hair which had so often been bound with rope or used as reins, the same hair which mesmerized little children whenever she and I would stroll through the park or shop at a mall... 

"You see her now, don't You, Sir?" 

I nodded, a tear coming to My eye. My vision blurred as the tears began to fall. The gift sat upon My lap, but alyssa still filled My heart. 

I felt a warmth against My cheek, then I felt it again, then again. The gift was kissing away My tears, drawing them into her dainty mouth and ingesting them, taking My emotional pain into herself. 

Clutching her tightly, I shed My tears unabashedly. Only one other person had ever seen Me cry, and that had been alyssa. Although she could not physically hold Me, I still felt arms around Me. 

...alyssa's arms, comforting Me, signaling to Me that it was time to move on, time to find another woman to love. 

"i cannot be Your beloved alyssa," she whispered, "but i am here to provide You with comfort and pleasure and anything else You may need or want. If it is within my power, Sir, i will definitely do it." 

A long time passed as My grief cascaded from My eyes, only to be drawn into her mouth and internalized. When at last My vision cleared, when at last I had no more tears to shed, I looked into the eyes of the gift and saw something unexpected: 

...understanding. 

"No," I confirmed, "you are clearly not alyssa. But Master Fruendt did state that He had not named you, purposely leaving that honor to Me. I believe that a fitting name for you would be hope." 

hope's eyes sparkled as a smile spread upon her lips. her smile was contagious, and I held her close, keenly sensing alyssa's approval. 



Hope



He couldn't believe she had said yes. "Meet me on the north end at noon," her text had said.

Climbing down the treacherous trail, his mind went wild imagining her in the flesh for the first time. Reaching the beach he quickly removed his clothes and threw them in his backpack. It always felt good to feel the sun and breeze on his naked body. 

He quickly made his way down to the shoreline and began to walk north. The sun was brutally hot, but the blue sky turned the water a deep indigo. The blue water juxtaposed to the shallow beach and high white cliffs made this one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. 

As he walked he enjoyed the view, there were naked bodies as far as he could see. The regulars easily identified by the darkness and completeness of their tans. The out of town visitors and newbies easily identified by their bunny tails and in some cases complete lack of tans.

He watched as a young woman walked toward him with her boyfriend. "Honeymooners," he thought. Her skin was a beautiful creamy white, set off by beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes. Her nipples were delightfully erect on high proud breasts and her ass swung like a welcome sign in the breeze. It was no wonder that her boyfriend, equally as gorgeous, was sporting a little wood. No one minded, they simply enjoyed watching the beautiful young couple, so obviously in love.

As he walked, he wondered if she could find him with so many people on the beach today. When he got north of the volleyball courts he threw down his towel and laid down to wait.

Watching the hang gliders launch off the cliffs he wondered if any of them frequented the beach after flying overhead. He closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face and enjoying the light breeze. He imagined what it would be like to have her find him here all alone.... 

He felt rather than heard her approach, a shadow passed across his face. His eyes opened and there she was, standing over him, backlit by a blazing sun. Her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and her eyes were hidden by dark oversized sunglasses. She was still wearing a tank top and shorts, carrying a knit beach bag. She looked down at him smiling. "Well, you didn't oversell the goods, you look yummy," she said. He moved to get up and help her spread her towel. "Don't move", she said "just watch". He laid back cradling his head in his arms and smiled. 

She set down her bag, pulled out a towel and spread it on the sand. The she stood up. "Do not touch yourself," she instructed. With that she started to slowly dance. Her hips mesmerized him as they weaved back and forth. She smiled as she crossed her arms and slowly began to raise her tank top, stopping as she saw his hands start to involuntarily move to his lap. "Don't even think about it," she said, "that's mine today." With that the tank top was pulled over her head and her succulent breasts revealed. 

As she danced he devoured her with his eyes, her nipples were unlike any he had ever seen. As the wind hit them three puffy layers appeared. The darkness of her areolas, set off the warm brown of her full breasts. She watched him watch her move, eyes glued to his slowly growing cock. Her hands glided up her body and cupped her breasts holding them high as if to offer them to him. His breath caught in his throat. She smiled, "you like what you see." It wasn't a question. 

She then unbuttoned her shorts and still dancing pulled them to her ankles and off, leaving her in a black lacy thong. She slowly twirled in the sand, hips weaving, ass swaying obscenely in his face. The thread of her thong disappearing between her cheeks. She slowly pulled the thong down and over her ass, bending forward slowly as she worked it down to her feet. 

She knew he was locked on her slowly moving bottom now brazenly framing her puffy shaven pussy. She turned and looked at his now turgid cock, "oh you do like what you see," she giggled. Throwing her thong and sun glasses in her bag, she turned, "lay back with your hands stretched out, and don't move, NO HANDS!" He did as she wished, his eyes still eating her up. 

She slowly stepped over him, her feet on either side of his chest. Then she bent over and let her pony tail lightly whip his face, teasing. Dropping to her knees she dangled her breasts over his face, lowering her nipples to brush his eyelids. She swung her breasts so they gently whipped his face. He growled deep in his throat. She raised up saying, "Down boy, all in good time." With that she let her breasts drop to his mouth, one at a time, caressing his hair as he suckled. She pulled up again and slid down his body letting her nipples drag a wet trail across his chest, belly and then rested them over his now aching cock. Squeezing her breasts together she looked up at him and smiled. He was lost in the green depths of her eyes. Her head lowered and he felt her tongue circle and lick his cock. She looked up, "Your cock is beautiful, the tip is a perfect heart shape." Then she bent to take him deep in her throat. His growl was a deep moan as she sucked him into her throat, her right hand holding his balls tight. "You will not cum now," she ordered, and she again impaled her throat on his throbbing cock. His hips thrust upwards, she gagged. She stopped, looked at him and said firmly, "Don't move!" He glared at her but complied. She resumed her oral examination, finally stopping to stand straddling his hips, sun at her back, saying again, "Watch, don't touch yourself." 

She slid her right hand down and massaged her vulva, as her left hand moved to her right breast. Teasing her own nipple, she moaned as she opened her lips and slid two fingers inside her dripping vagina. Her head dropped back as she fucked herself wantonly. Her legs began to quiver and she dropped to her knees. Through glazed, lust filled eyes she looked at him, "Do you want to taste me?" He could only shake his head in the affirmative, watching as she withdrew her fingers from her soaking vagina and licked the index one herself before offering him the other. His mouth closed on her finger and he tasted her sweet juice for the first time. Another low groan escaped his lips. She smiled and rising up, grabbed his cock and swiftly impaled herself. "Now you can move", she growled as she began to ride him hard. 

Unleashed, his hands moved to her hips and held her tight as he met her thrust for thrust. Their bodies glistened with sweat in the sun as they slammed with lust and joy into each other. Her breasts bounced freely as her head fell back, mouth open, moans escaping with each thrust. A low moan became an erotic shriek as she began to orgasm. With a final thrust his juices joined hers as she collapsed on his chest. Spent, she propped herself up on his chest and said impishly, "Hi, I'm Hope!" 

A shadow passed over his face, he woke with a start. Looking up he saw her smiling down at him. Observing his obvious wood she smiled and said, "I hope you were fantasizing about me."



Hope



'You are right. She is straight.' I said to AJ while looking inside my cup of coffee. I couldn't get myself to look at her directly to her face, not after having bragged for a year about my never-failing "gaydar", after having bet my pride in Toni being a lesbian-waiting-to-happen. 

She exhaled the slow, blue cloud. 'What happened?'

'Well, I discovered that her idea of bonding with her girlfriends is grabbing their upper arms and pointing at attractive guys. She tried it with me the other day. Guess we're not going to be doing much bonding, no?

AJ laughed briefly in her ever-silent way, and then stared in silence.

'What?'

She shrugged. 'So you're okay with spending three days at the cabin with her'

'Well, it's not like it will be just the two of us, you know...'

'So you still...'

I nodded admission of guilt. 'Can't help it... I don't know what it is with her... I really don't find straight women appealing... Anyway, I guess it'll be good for me to have her around; I'll get bored eventually and forget the whole thing...'

AJ slowly folded the half-smoked cigarette on the ashtray, suffocating the glowing tip, and smiled.

'Good then. Hey, I should go now. Mom is going to kill me; I'm already half an hour late. Are you catching the train or the bus?'

'Train'

We walked down the street in silence. I knew AJ knew I was counting the steps before I reached Toni's flat, just a block away from the train station. I could have taken a detour, but there is a perverse pleasure in strolling under Toni's window, imagining her there, cooking, reading, or listening to the CD I had made for her. She was so close and yet so far... I found myself, once again, slowly walking by like a puppy who sits outside his master's door, waiting to be taken out, to be fed.

* * *

The icy edge of the morning air couldn't shake me awake as I stood on the pavement helping AJ load the skies, snowboard and bags into her 4x4. 

Mike arrived, sounding as cheerful as usual; he would have irritated me hadn't he been the impossibly nice guy he was.

Toni arrived a few minutes later, looking as relaxed, self-assured, and aloof as usual. It always puzzled and marvelled me her ability to look always the same: never a puffed up face in the morning, never a worn out face late at night. I felt an almost contradictory mixture of jealousy and desire.

She greeted AJ and Mike and then looked my way.

'Hey there...'

She looked stunning, with a new –shorter- hairstyle that it was held back by her sunglasses. I could have –should have- said something about how good she looked with her new haircut. I loved paying an earned compliment but with Toni it felt different; I felt exposed.

'Hey you...' My voice sounded distant and uninterested, surprising me.

As I leaned over for the customary hello-kiss on the cheek, I saw a few grey hairs exposed by the sunglasses. I must be getting old, I thought. It felt like yesterday when I equated grey hairs to old people, like people in their mid-thirties. But that was my age now -our age-, and I found them sexy.

AJ was already sitting behind the wheel, and Mike was next to her. That left me the back seat, next to Toni. Mike turned around and started telling a joke, when he saw my face.

'Hmm... Rough night?' He winked.

I smiled awkwardly, wondering whether I looked that bad. Usually, I wouldn't give a damn about it -at least not this early in the morning, but I wanted Toni to discover that women can be wonderful and I was adamant that I would be the one to show her. Since there was no chance of this ever happening, I mocked a grunt and hit him with one of the gloves I had just taken off.

For a brief moment, I fantasised about falling asleep, and 'inadvertently' slide onto her shoulder – or, even better, her lap. Laughing inwardly at my own adolescent stupidity, I remained awake, basking in the glorious sunrise that unveiled a crystal clear day, in Toni's profile, and in her magnificently normal body. 

She took her jacket off and underneath she was wearing a tight high-neck polar-fleece jersey that hinted the promising swelling on her chest. I had been trying to figure out for six months the size and shape of her breasts, without much luck. I had once seen her at the beach, right after she'd taken a swim. Unfortunately for me, by the time she came back to where my friends and I were sitting, she had put on a loose t-shirt that only revealed her stiffened nipples. It took a great effort not to sit all afternoon staring at her breasts.

The jersey she was wearing now didn't show or hint much at all. I wondered if she had a Wonder Bra on, enhancing that kind of breasts that disappear when the woman is lying on her back. Looking as closely as I could under the circumstances, I realised that I couldn't even tell if she was wearing a bra at all. Soon, I found myself again working out a way to find out, or –even better- find a way to try them for size...

After an hour on the road, the only noises in the car were the music, the soft purr of the engine and a conversation between AJ and Mike that I couldn't hear. I tried to engage in conversation with Toni, but she just didn't seem interested in going beyond a quick update on work and general well-being. After a while, she turned her face to the right and stared outside the window. Bored and frustrated, I dozed off. I woke up when AJ had parked the car outside the cabin.

I realized that we had arrived and I was still sitting in my place, as far from Toni as the car would allow us. I had hoped to find someone interesting at the cabin, someone new to distract myself from the sheer hopelessness of my attraction towards Toni, but I only found Shauna and Todd making breakfast. My hope of 'another nail' was dashed off.

As we settled down around the table to have breakfast someone raised the issue of sleeping arrangements. There was no doubt that Shauna and Todd would be sleeping in the master bedroom –not only they were a couple, but had been staying here for a week already.

That left the other bedroom –with a double bed in it, and the sleeping couch in the living room –another double bed. 

Everyone –except for Toni– said at unison 'I don't mind where I sleep.' I did mind who I slept with –if that 'who' was Toni, but saying anything would have meant walking into a complex territory that could have involved outing myself –and possibly AJ. 

I had never understood why AJ had never told her friends that she was a lesbian. I was sure that they wouldn't reject her at all. In fact, it wouldn't make much of a difference –except that she would have been spared from evading compromising questions and unwanted blind dates with available guys.

But the fact remained that she wasn't out and these were her friends, thus, her choice. I didn't feel comfortable outing myself under these circumstances, although it would have made it easier for me if Toni at least knew about AJ. I still didn't have a clue what she thought about lesbianism.

Thinking of Toni made me wonder whether she was uncomfortable with the idea of having to share a bed with Mike, or –a chill tightened my spine- whether she was hoping she would actually have to.

I didn't get to see her reaction when Shauna resolved the issue, saying that since Mike and AJ had already shared so many nights in their trips abroad, they wouldn't mind one more night together now.

'Yes, but I rather sleep in the living room. It's warmer, and he won't rape me in a common area' joked AJ.

We laughed, and the issue was settled. I have no idea what was said after that, though.

Right after breakfast we all hurried to unpack and change into our skiing gear. I found myself standing next to Toni in the bedroom, facing the bed.

'So which side do you prefer?' said Toni matter-of-factly, as if she was asking me to choose between two slices of pie. 

'Any. Right side'

She nodded and went around to the left side of the bed. She put her bag on the bed and started taking her clothes out. I realised that it changing clothes involved undressing first. I started sweating despite the cold air in the room.

Toni took her clothes out of the bag in a mechanical way, and just as methodically started taking her clothes off. 

I tried to concentrate on my own clothes, but I fell safe from behind the strands of hair falling on my face, and couldn't help but staring. I fumbled around in my bag while my eyes followed her every move.

She had smooth, infinitely long legs for her 5'3" frame. I looked down the second I saw the striped panties appearing. 

My brain spun furiously: she is straight, she likes dick, you don't have one, take the pants out not the hairbrush. Wake up. The warmth flooding my body blinded me and I ended up taking out the hairbrush instead of my pants after all.

I figured then that the only way out of this awkward situation was to mimic her mechanical movements. Maybe I would feel in equal terms, and that would calm me down. I took my pants off, carefully folded them and put them inside my bag.

My plan didn't work out. In fact, it had exactly the opposite effect. The cold air on my exposed legs, the sight of her naked legs, her nipples pushing against her long-sleeved t-shirt and the bed in between us knocked the air out of my chest. I was drowning in desire, my face burned in a blur. I turned around before she saw the blood flooding my face.

I finished changing as slowly as I could and waited until the noise of clothes being taken off and put on had ceased. I waited again until she left the room and closed the door. I got up, leaned on it, reached for my drenched panties and brought myself to the fastest orgasm I could remember.

 * * *

'Come on now, let's go' AJ said as I came out of the bedroom.

'Yes yes, just a minute. I need to go to the bathroom quickly'

I scrubbed my hands clean with the strong smelling rose liquid soap, cleared my face with the icy water, and rushed out.

AJ was already in the car, with Mike sitting next to her. They were in the middle of one of their mock-fights, their laughs echoing in the eerie silence of the snow-covered pine trees around the cabin. Toni was standing outside the car, idly making a hole in the snow with the tip of her boot. She looked like a little girl, a bored tomboy, a poker player waiting for the next hand. I wonder what she'd said if she knew what I had just done thinking of her.

I got into the car, my hands deep inside my pockets

'OK, let's hit the road' AJ eyes searched and found mine in the rear-view mirror. I knew she knew that something was going on, and I smiled reassuringly. 

I loved her. In another universe, in another lifetime, we would have had chemistry and would have given it a shot. Even for a night, just to kill the idle time, to fill the empty months, the hours spent without hands holding, caressing, wanting. But it just wasn't there, and we were both old enough to know that to even try would have been simply stupid. It was much better to have and hold those understanding, patient eyes that absolved me from the animal lust I was feeling, and from the frustration of knowing it was going nowhere.

* * *

The fresh snow rushed by under my skis. I had left my hair loose and the collar jacket open so the chilled air would lift me off, numb me. For a while, I was able to forget; I was alone and what my eyes couldn't see, my sex didn't desire.

After a while, when my legs started to burn from the effort, I stopped, sat on a rock behind the padded snow cannon and lit a cigarette. I heard the soft, rhythmic 'ssshoo-ssshoo' of skis grating against the snow. I saw red, blue, black, green ski clothes rush by. Some of them came by behind me heading for the off-piste trail, so I didn't get startled when one came up really close. I turned around only when I heard skies stopping behind.

It was Toni.

'You shouldn't smoke after doing exercise'

Right. Now she's chiding me, I thought. 'Yes, you are right, but you don't know what you're missing'

'Maybe I do.' Her comment sounded strange. I looked up, but her face was as serious as ever. 

'But you don't smoke...'

'No. Well, I have a cigarette here and there'

'Want one?'

Her eyes pierced mine -or not: maybe the slightest direct eye contact was like exposing burnt skin to the sun. Still, she held my stare for a second longer than necessary. 'Later. Can I sit?'

She took her skis off and I moved aside; the rock was big enough for two, but only if the two people sat really close to each other.

'Nice day' she said, her eyes lost somewhere down in the valley.

I nodded absent-mindedly. Through my jacket and thermal shirt, my skin felt every little movement of her breathing, and that occupied all my sensorial and mental processing abilities.

'You ski very well', she said while taking her gloves off.

'Do I?' My heart jumped a litle hearing the compliment. That meant she had been watching me too... Strangely enough, I felt taller, stronger. Suddenly my foolish puppy lust games lost interest, and I felt like I could even flirt with her. Maybe I wouldn't be the only nervous one. 

She immediately changed the subject. 'I'm thinking of trying the snowboard. Do you have that cigarette?

I took the packet out and gave her one. I took the lighter out but she made no motion to get it. I flicked it and a tiny yellow flame appeared. Her hands wrapped mine while she tried to light the cigarette. The breeze was soft, but still kept blowing the feeble flame out. I took my free hand and wrapped it over hers, blocking the wind. Finally she lit the cigarette but I left my hands on hers two seconds longer than required. Then I put away the lighter and packet, acting as casual as I could. 

I felt more amused than excited by the contact of her warm hands on mine. I had taken action and that felt totally liberating. At that precise moment I felt free. It could have also been the accumulation of evidence against hope, the release earlier on, the spent energy on the slopes or the overwhelming feeling of stupidity for wanting the impossible.

It didn't matter; I felt free from the blinding desire, from the perpetual excitement I felt whenever she was around. She was free to look at all the guys she wanted, and I was free to start looking around for a nice, available lesbian. I would enjoy this slice of snowed-in paradise, the 3 days of skiing, and the friends. 

I lit another cigarette and we smoked in silence. 

We skied together for the rest of the afternoon, not exchanging a word until much later, when I said I was calling it a day, and that I'd go to grab a cup of hot chocolate at the main bar at the station.

She said she would do another run so I headed for the bar alone. I bumped into AJ at the entrance.

She was smirking. 'So... What's up?'

I smiled and shook my head

'Having fun'

'I see... How much fun, exactly?'

'Well, lots of fun -here, with you guys, on the trails. Look at this wonderful weather. It's perfect. As for the rest, I guess that I will survive the weekend after all'

'I'm glad.' Her eyes were deep, full of unsaids.

'I can handle it.' As the words came out, I felt I was trying to re-assure both of us.

'I know. By the way, don't you think that she's acting strange? Well, she is strange, but...'

'Who? Toni? Why?'

'Well, she's particularly quiet. I don't know. She is acting... odd. Odder than usual, that is' AJ shrugged

She knew Toni much better than I did. My first impulse was to find out more, to find out whether AJ thought that I might have anything to do with Toni's behaviour. Then I remembered my new-found resolve, and also saw Mike walking into the bar, pulling faces.

By the time Toni walked in, I was having great fun with my friends. I didn't care if she sat on my lap or on the other table. She sat right next to me, and I didn't even look her way.

* * *

That evening nobody seemed to care about the aching muscles. After dinner, both the wine and the conversation flowed easily around the fire. Shauna and Todd were holding each other, caressing each other in the casual way only long-time lovers can do: a retracing of each others' arms and hands without even being aware of it.

I saw Toni looking at them with what seemed a sad face. Her eyes followed their hands moving discreetly, the arms holding love. She was sitting opposite to me, on the other side of the fire. She looked relaxed but not as self-assured as she always did; her sunken chest was rising softly but hidden underneath crossed arms. 

Suddenly I felt like holding her, but not in a sensual way. I just had the urge to feel her, cover her. I didn't realise that I was staring openly until I saw her eyes meeting mine. Our eyes had met often before –even if in a dead-pan way. I had always looked away, afraid she'd see the rawness in me. This time I didn't. 

This time I smiled at her, not knowing why. She didn't smile back; she simply looked back, but not in the way she always did; she just looked, without blinking. 

I couldn't unlock what was behind, but I was sure that there was something there. 

Someone clapped, and the thundering noise sucked me back to the room, to this world. It was Mike, clapping at something someone had said –everyone was laughing. AJ was laughing too but her eyes were bouncing between Toni and I, and eventually landed on me. She looked at Toni one last time, then looked at me and winked. 

I decided I'd call it a night, get into bed, and give it all a rest. I had no clue what to make of Toni's locked stare or AJ's wink, and was too tired to think. I decided to try and be asleep by the time Toni got into bed. 

As I got up and announced I was going to bed, Toni got up too.

'I'm also turning in. Good night everyone'

I decided to let her get into her pyjamas alone, so I headed for the bathroom to change and brush my teeth.

She was already in bed by the time I got back. She was turned on her side facing away from my side. Her arm was hugging the pillow, her face almost buried in it. Her eyes were closed and seemed asleep.

I got into bed, turned on my side facing away from her and closed my eyes. My body and mind were exhausted but I couldn't switch off. I wanted to hold her. The thought of her being in the bed next to me was troubling me more that her physical presence –I couldn't see her and she wasn't moving at all. But she was there; her breathing reached me like a mermaid's song. 

I wanted to drift off to sleep holding her. I wanted to wake up and still be holding her.

I felt a weight dropping in my stomach. This had not been in the plans, this wasn't part of my recent discovered freedom. 

I had fallen from raw lust to apparent indifference to this. It didn't feel like a joke anymore, and it certainly didn't feel like freedom.

Soon her breathing became deeper and slower, and I knew she'd fallen asleep. Only then I fell asleep.

* * *

The light in the room woke me up. I was still looking away from Toni, in exactly the same position, and my body ached as if I hadn't slept at all. I turned around, and saw her facing my side, still fast asleep. There were no traces of her usual hardness; she looked just beautiful. Before I could stop myself, I saw my hand reaching out to her face. My index finger softly touched her smooth skin and moved a rebel strand of hair away from her eyes. 

She stirred almost imperceptibly, but that was enough to make me react and retrieve my hand.

I turned away and noticed the familiar warmth creeping from within me. I got up and then realized that the house was completely silent.

AJ had left a note on the breakfast table saying that we should meet them at the main bar at 12 for a bite to eat, that they'll be in the red west trails. 

It didn't surprise to find them gone, especially not AJ. She was a chronic early riser –regardless at what time she'd gone to bed, and 9 a.m. was mid-morning for her. 




Hope



So there was I, alone in the house with Toni, and I knew I wouldn't –couldn't- do anything; a wasted opportunity –or simply an opportunity that wasn't there, but felt like one. 

I heated up the coffee and toasted a few slices of bread. I found an old wooden tray covered in faded painted sunflowers, wiped it clean and put on it two mugs of coffee, the toast, some orange juice and a few things to eat. 

I walked back into the bedroom and I bumped the tray against the door by accident. Nothing spilled over, but the noise woke Toni up. I sat on the edge of the bed, on Toni's side, balancing the tray over my knees.

'Morning... What time is it?' Her voice was deep, full of sleep; a luring sound I didn't need to hear.

'9:30. I brought you some breakfast...' As the words came out, I felt like an idiot – as if I could hide my nervousness by putting subtitles to the obvious.

She rubbed her eyes –although they were not puffy-, and craned her neck from underneath the blankets. 

She looked at the full tray, raised her eyebrows and smiled –a full smile putting on display her immaculate, perfect teeth and the tip of her tongue just behind. My heart jumped.

Toni moved over, sat up and tapped on the bed with her open hand.

'Put it here. This is great, thanks, but you shouldn't have'

'I know, but it's done. Let's eat'

She took a long sip of her coffee. 'Where's everyone'

'Gone. AJ left a note; we should meet them at 12'

She looked outside. 'Did it snow last night?'

I didn't know. Actually, I remembered having seen the cloudy weather, but my mind had been too occupied otherwise to really notice.

'It looks so cold outside. It's so nice in here' said Toni, pulling her blanket up before taking another sip of her coffee.

I was actually cold. I wanted to get in bed, but I didn't know if I could endure it, so I sat shivering and drinking my coffee, too unsettled to eat much, not knowing what to say. I felt her eyes on me a couple of times, but every time I looked up she was looking down.

I took the tray back to the kitchen after the silent, tense breakfast, and got into the shower. It didn't surprise me to find myself slippery again, but I was more preoccupied with the turn of events inside of me than with the actual physical response, so I just washed myself clean as fast as I could so Toni would have hot water left.

* * *

AJ had left her car for us to reach the ski station. I wasn't expecting to find them there so we headed directly to the green trail for the milk run. The lift queue was short, and in no time I was making my way through the foggy weather. The top layer of snow was icy so I decided to take it easy. 

As we reached the end of the run, Toni and I went our separate ways.

A while later I was making my way down the longest trail, deep in thoughts about the breakfast in bed, about Toni's face, her mysterious eyes, and the impossibility of it all. I didn't see hear or see the bomber until it was right next to me. A few seconds later, the world stopped and I found myself sitting in my very own yard sale. Nothing was broken, although my right side was aching badly. I got up and started gathering my skis and poles that were strewn all over the trail –even my goggles had fallen out. 

I left the trail and took cover under the pine trees. Sitting with my back against one of them, I waited until the shock wore off. Suddenly I didn't feel like skiing anymore but I knew the only way back was down, and I had more than half the run to finish before reaching the lift that'd take me back to the station. I decided to have a quick cigarette and move on before my muscles got cold. I wished that Toni would appear from behind chiding me, but the cigarette was finished and she was nowhere to be seen. I got up, back on the skis and started an easy run back.

I reached the main bar at 11:45. No signs of AJ or Toni or anyone else. I ordered a cup of chocolate and sat by the fire. AJ arrived first, at 12 o'clock.

'Hello, sleeping beauty. Nice of you to join us' She left her jacket on the chair and sat next to me.

'Hey... Good morning.'

AJ lit a cigarette and inhaled slowly, deeply. 'Ooh, nice.... Just what the doctor didn't order. Nothing like a forbidden pleasure, no?'

I stretched my lips in the way of a mock smile.

So, shit weather, no?'

'Hmm...' My lips were still uncomfortably stretched.

'What's up?'

'Nothing, just wiped out. I'm okay, just a bit sore. Not having a good day'

She half-closed her eyes.

'Anything I should know, besides the fall?'

'Nothing exciting to tell, I'm afraid. Should have fallen harder, maybe my head would have screwed itself back in place'

She shook her head, in silence. 'Take it easy on yourself. Have fun'

'I wish I could, but... Hmm. This morning I lost control -thank god she was fast asleep' I sank on the chair. 'I'm such an idiot. I made her breakfast and then sat on the bed freezing so I could see her just woken up, like a teenager with her first crush'


I didn't see AJ's eyes widening, staring over my shoulder, until I had finished my sentence. 

'Hi there' It was Toni's voice behind me. I panicked. How much had she heard?

'I'm going to get some coffee... Refill anyone?'

I shook my head, still looking at AJ. She asked for a cup of chocolate, and I could see she was trying not to laugh.

'You are beetle-red', said AJ when Toni had gone.

'Shit. Did she hear everything?'

'Don't know. Maybe, maybe not... You'll find out soon enough'

I didn't. Toni came back and was her usual self. She sat in the chair opposite me, talked about her runs and drank her chocolate. If she heard what I said, she wasn't acknowledging anything.

AJ's finger pointed at me. 'Did you hear about Chris' yard-sale?'

Toni looked at me. 'Are you okay?'

I nodded.

'I have some painkillers in the cabin, if you want'

Toni turned back to AJ and started discussing lunch. Shauna and Todd arrived soon after, and we all went back to the cabin for lunch. 

My muscles were getting cold and an intense ache started creeping in. I decided to skip lunch, excused myself and went to lie down in bed after taking one of my own painkillers. Since I hadn't hit my head, I decided that I could safely go to sleep. I quickly sunk into a blissful sleep; the physical pain had erased lust, longing, thoughts and any feeling that had been numbing me that far.

When I woke up it was dark outside and the house was silent again. I was glad to realise that I was feeling much better, although my right shoulder and knee still hurt quite a bit. I put some anti-inflammatory cream on and went around the kitchen to find some food.

While I waited for the food to warm up I threw a couple more logs to the fire. I felt peaceful in the emptiness of the house, but I still couldn't shake the thought of Toni. This is it, I thought. Not only she didn't like women, she didn't even care for my well-being. I made her breakfast, and I wiped out, and she didn't give a damn. I'll never learn... I shook my head and emptied my brain in the dancing flames in the fireplace.

After eating I sat in front of the fire reading old magazines I had found. Around 18:30 I heard the car stopping outside the door.

'Honey, we're home' Mike came over and sat next to me. 'Feeling better?'

His concern touched me deeply; I am not sure what he saw in my silent response but it made him sit next to me, put his arm gingerly around my shoulder. I let my head drop on his shoulder, thriving in the warmth of such caring touch. I let him gently caress my sore shoulder, feeling very connected to him -we had something in common: he's unrequited love for AJ, and my... whatever it was that I felt for Toni. 

He smelt well; a manly aftershave softly faded after a whole day in the trails. His arm felt heavy and big, compared to a woman's, although he wasn't resting his weight on me. His deep voice resonated in his flat chest, the face was rough from a two-day beard growth. 

So this is what straight women enjoy, I thought. This is what Toni likes, what I can't give her. It was nice, almost sexy if I forced myself to it. But the smell was too strong, the arm too heavy, the face too hairy. I wanted soft. I loved soft.

I opened my eyes and saw Toni staring at us, a deep line wrinkling the skin between her eyes. I stared back, but she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Mike holding me, at the outline of my head on his shoulder, at his hand caressing my shoulder.

For a second it felt like jealousy. But... who was she jealous of?

AJ started sharing old-time anecdotes with Shauna and Todd. Mike joined in, and he seemed to need both his arms to tell his own story, so I sat back in my place. 

Toni's eyes were now focusing directly on me. I looked back. Amazingly enough I didn't blush or blinked. This time those eyes were drawing me in, in a way I hadn't felt before. It was like something in them had cracked, and they were letting me in through a mixture of softness, fear, sadness, curiosity and worry. Then again, maybe I was just imagining it all, and only seeing in them what I wanted to see. Still, something in those eyes allowed me to hold her stare for what it seemed an eternity.

I wondered what she hid under that apparent coldness. Something told me that it was only skin-deep. I tried to imagine her in love, in lust. I tried to imagine her away from the public eye. Was she be forward, inventive, naughty, perverse? Did she like cuddling and soft caresses, or did she like it rough? Was she one of those women who were only content when faced with a stiff dick, hairy chests and muscles? I had no clue; it was as if I my 15 years of experience as a lesbian, as a sexual being didn't exist.

The eye contact broke off when everyone started laughing at what seemed the end of Mike's story. I looked away. AJ seemed oblivious to what had just happened, but she wasn't. After she closed her Zippo and took the cigarette from between her lips, she looked at me and smiled, before looking away. 

I felt Toni's eyes again on me. I fell back into them, feeling the physical pain ebbing as the familiar warmth invaded every corner my body.

For a moment, the room, the voices, the caution evaporated, and I found myself believing again in what I had always believed in against my will. Hope rushed back in full force, making me shiver and giving me a boldness I hadn't known this far. This boldness made my eyes leave hers, and move them slowly down her body. 

Her lips were slightly parted, her dark blue top unzipped revealing her body hugging high-neck t-shirt. My eyes caressed her square but small shoulders, her breasts, her small hands crossed over her folded knees, her crossed ankles that were blocking the view from the place I had wanted to dive in forever.

I made my way back to her face, stopping again at her chest, trying once again to imagine the shape, texture and taste of the nipples invisible under the all the cotton and fleece.

Finally I reached her eyes again. The lines between them were back, but weren't as deep. Something was going on but I had no clue what to make of it or how to take this forward.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she looked away and the bubble burst. I felt the heat emanating from my body coming to contact with the cooler air of the room, and I shivered. I became embarrassingly aware of the sequels of my physical reaction, like a live wire stripped from its covering and then left to hang.

I kept looking at her, but she was gone. I got up and poured some more wine, and then some more. I offered to refill the glasses; Toni reached out with her glass, but didn't look at me. 

After the fourth glass of wine, I felt blissfully beyond it all. I kept looking at her, not caring if anyone noticed, not caring if she met my eyes or not. I just basked in her next-door girl beauty, in that something that drew me so intensely that made me loose track of reality and of common sense.

I didn't get up until everyone decided to go to bed. Toni got up first and I waited a few minutes and then walked in our bedroom, hoping I'd be able to fall asleep soon enough.

Toni was standing behind the door, leaning against the wall. Without saying a word, she closed the door behind me and locked it. I froze. She turned to me and covered the distance between us guided by the connection of our eyes. 

I took a while for me to realise that she was about to do what I hadn't had the nerve or guts to do; I was completely paralysed.

She got closer, in a tortuous slow motion, and stopped two centimetres away from my lips. She looked at them, looked at my eyes, back to my lips and then kissed me. 

It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was hard, hungry. Her lips fused to mine as if she had just bungee-jumped and was holding to them for dear life. I felt her tongue touching my lips and the moan that came out of them made way for her tongue to reach mine. 

She was out of control, and I could only follow her. I let her tongue fight with mine wildly for a while, but I wanted to savour this moment forever and it was going too fast to keep a clear memory. 

I touched her arms, softly but firmly, and retreated slightly. I began teasing her, forcing tongues and lips into a sensual, rhythmic dance. 

I started tracing the shape of her lips as if making sure that I was really kissing her, giving bit by bit all I had kept in store for so long. I took her lips between mine and made love to them until I heard her moan. I went deeper inside, and captured her tongue with my lips, sensually, recklessly devouring it.

I pulled her closer. She responded as if she were allowing me to lead and pulling me in at the same time. Her slight frame perfectly glued to mine from chest to knees. Without stopping the kiss, I caressed her back, her fleshy butt, her neck. Her soft, warm skin lured me in, and I started losing control. 

I moved my right leg between her legs and pulled her even closer. I could feel the heat coming from between them. She began to tremble; I pulled her closer making the little bud hid behind layers of clothing and skin feel the pressure of my leg, and the trembling became shaking.

I found her own thigh and wrapped myself around it, my sex desperate to make contact with her. The second I felt her strong leg muscle pressing on it, I felt I was going to come so I eased off.

We continued like that for a while, grinding against each other sensually, our lips and tongues melted together.

I could have died happy like that, but my hands needed to feel her. I moved them under her shirt and reached for her bra hook. I struggled for a while, not wanting to rush, not wanting to divert attention from the kiss. When it finally came loose, I traced her skin with my hands, moving them from her back to her waist, until I reached her naked breast. 

She moaned silently, her breath hot against my lips. The fleshy side of her breast appeared under my thumb. I wanted to grab, but instead I lifted her loose bra and circled her breast slowly with my fingertips, avoiding the nipple, finding all the answers I had wanted for so long.

She broke the kiss, but not the contact. She slid her face along my cheek, burying her face in my neck. I could hear her moaning against my clothes. She moved slightly to her side, giving me full access to her breast. I didn't waste any precious time; I caressed her until my palm was right on her hard nipple. I stroked it softly, feeling the hardness tickling my skin. Her breasts fitted my hands perfectly, and responded to the slight pressure of my fingers with a delightful firmness.

I wanted to know what she enjoyed most, so I caressed, gently squeezed, felt, played until I heard and felt her strongest reaction. She seemed to be very sensitive in the area around her nipples, and my fingers obliged. Each small touch made her shiver, but I couldn't stay still in one place any longer.

I leaned down to her neck, and started drawing it with my lips and tongue while I lifted the shirt high enough to give my hands access to both her breasts. She shook in my arms, and after a soft kiss on her neck, I slid down to my knees ignoring the bolt of pain.

She grabbed my neck with both hands and leaned forward, putting her breasts right in front of my face. They were so incredibly beautiful, my own personal gold at the end of the rainbow. I leaned forward and captured them with my lips before they vanished. 

My tongue did to her breasts and nipples what my fingertips had learned before. My hands retraced the curvy shape of her butt, teasingly heading for her mound as slow as I could. I stopped on the inside of her legs, without touching her sex, and guided her legs apart. I caressed her inner thighs a while, feeling her legs wobbling more and more, and then ran a finger over the seam of her pants until I reached the area over her clit. 

A muffled cry came out as she lost her balance. 

I moved back, my tongue still teasing her nipples, until I felt the edge of the bed. I slowly turned her around and barely breaking contact I helped her onto the bed and settled between her legs.

She was so beautiful with her closed eyes, the hair messed up around her face, her lips parted wide, her body shaking visibly. I felt overcome with an emotion even more intense that my lust.

I pulled her clothes up slowly, following the fabric with my lips, feeling every inch of her skin up to the breasts, over and around them, and them made my way down until I reached the waistband of her pants. My tongue traced the skin behind it while my fingers wrestled with the button and zipper. I left them undone and moved even lower down over her pants, plotting the map of the place I'd be soon moving to.

My lips reached her sex and felt a hot dampness covering her pants. I took a deep breath and moved back up, seeking desperately her naked skin; I needed to feel her inside. 

I pulled her pants down as she wiggled her way out of them. I took one boot off and as I had started working on the other one, I felt her hands pulling me up. I left the boot where it was, cleared the pants out of the way and crawled back. She started lowering her panties, but I stopped her. Our fingers locked and I moved my lips and tongue to her inner thigh. Her mound kept rising to meet me, but I avoided contact for as long as I could. She squeezed my hands with force, and I let them go and moved my hands back down. I lowered her panties as if revealing a lost-and-found Rodin sculpted in flesh. 

She opened up wide and her hands locked behind my neck, forcing me to go down on her. 

I did. I let my tongue loose, playing wildly at first, and finally zooming in on her most sensitive spot. I found her rhythm and finally fell deep inside of her with my fingers, each stroke provoking a mini-quake inside her. I felt her muscles tensing up on her legs, around my fingers. I increased the combined rhythm of fingers, lips and tongue until she bucked free from my lips, shook and then relaxed. 

I drowned inside.

Her hands stroked my hair slowly, and then called me next to her. As my body was at the same level as hers, she held me in a tight embrace, her body trembling softly under mine.

I was nearly over the edge. I wanted to give her time to recover but my body had other ideas. My clit made its way until it found the resistance of her thighs. When she realised my need, she pulled me away gently, opening her eyes for the first time. 

Her eyes held mine just they had done earlier, by the fireplace. They seemed to be thinking now what they had thought earlier. For a second, I thought she had suddenly realised what she had done, and that she would pull away. I felt sick with dread.

My forehead tightened, but she erased all worries with a gently kiss on my eyes. Her lips continued down, until they reached my own. She kissed me with what felt like devoted care and gratitude; I shivered again.




Hope



She left my lips, turned on her side and leaned on her left elbow. I followed her hand as it made its way to my body. She traced it so softly that I feared she had never done this before. 

I started shaking with desperation, with the need to feel those fingers on my skin. She felt me, and reached the edge of my jersey, lifting it over my head. My shirt followed, and then my bra. She then moved down the bed, undid the laces of my shoes with one hand. I lifted my head and realised she was taking her remaining boot off as well. 

My pants followed. She was undressing me with the same mechanical precision she had undressed herself the night before. It was then when I realised that it was not and had not been a mechanical movement, but a very precise, calculated, meditated action. 

When her fingers reached the elastic of my panties she stopped and smiled, looking at my whole body –caressing it liked I had caressed hers earlier on, in the living room. 

Her eyes returned to my panties and pushed them down so very slowly. 

The sight of her half-naked body, her hands undressing me nearly took me over the edge. My face went numb with anticipation. I was desperately waiting for her to touch me, but instead she started taking the rest of her clothes off. I tried to sit up and do it myself, but she stopped me. She was undressing for me. She wanted me to look, and I did -just like the other night, although this time my eyes couldn't have enough of her, and she knew it.

When the last of her clothes was on the floor, she knelt over me and carefully measured the length of my naked skin with her own. She gently rubbed my breast with her own and settled back on her left elbow.

Then she touched me for the first time, and my nerve endings went into overload. Her fingers traced every inch of my skin; her face was like that of a curious girl exploring a forbidden forest –moving forward with awe, fascination, trepidation and contentment at finally having arrived.

I saw her looking at me, as if trying to find out if I liked what she was doing. She didn't know that she didn't have to do anything in particular; just to have her, to see her naked next to me was enough to give me all the pleasure I could take.

Or so I thought... When her fingers reached my nipples, I nearly blacked out. Her fingers teased my swollen lips and the wet skin of my thighs while her lips sought my nipples. The teasing soon gave way to an intense feast, her tongue flying over my nipple, her lips squeezing my breasts. 

In the middle of the blur, any doubts I had about her having done this before vanished. She knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted and how to get it.

Her slight fingers got bolder and little by little they slid inside of me. They found easy access deep inside, and once there, she flicked them once. My g-spot sent shockwaves through my body. Another finger joined in while her mouth reached my clit. 

I gave up my entire life to those lips and fingers. They didn't have to work hard; a massive orgasm rippled inside, exploded and rushed out. I shook over and over again, feeling my body melt between my legs, on those fingers, on those lips.

She returned to my side, and helped us get under the covers. Once inside, we locked in a tight, silence embrace broken only by the soft sound of our kisses. 

I ran my fingers along her face, feasting on the beauty of the moment, of her relaxed face that showed no traces of her usual distant hardness.

My sore shoulder started hurting again, but I didn't care. All I wanted to feel was her skin, her heartbeat, her hands, her breath... I wanted to have her like this forever, our naked bodies glued together with the dampness of pleasure and tenderness.

It had happened, and she still hadn't said a word - but she had said it all.

The silence, the night, the world closed in on us and I smiled.



Hope Among the Deserted



This story involves acts of both sex and romance between consenting adult males, so if that's not allowed where you live then you should march in the streets. If you enjoy the story, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading. 

* * *

It wasn't the explosion that alarmed him. It was the silence.

In the aftermath, as the dust--and metal, and body parts--settled, he heard nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a muffled, muted facsimile of the screams and sirens and shouts that surrounded him, surrounded them all.

Silence.

The explosion had ruptured his eardrums and so shocked his auditory nerves that he wouldn't hear for days, and never again as well as he had before. As he looked around, trying to sort out what had happened, trying to move, he saw a silent film of devastation. Grizz, who had been at the big gun, took the worst of it. There was little left to be sent home; the biggest parts were still gripping the handles of the gun. A pink mist descended; he looked up to see where it came from, and knew that it was all that was left of Grizz and who knows how many other guys--he wasn't sure who had been closest to the IED when it detonated.

He could smell burning. Oil, fabric, flesh.

Someone touched him on the leg, shook it hard. He couldn't hear them shout his name, he couldn't feel them pulling his legs to get him out of the burning remains of the transport. He felt himself moving, then spinning, and then darkness came as if his eyes had given up too.

Silence.

* * *

"Will? Will, can you hear me?"

Light. Too much light. And what was that? A voice?

"Will, I need to you to focus. Can you hear me?"

It was a voice. He could hear, a little. One side, anyway.

"I ... ah--"

"No, no, don't try to talk. You sucked in some bad fumes there. Your throat's going to be a bit rough for a while. Can you open your eyes for me?"

He tried, but they were stuck. He felt a warm, wet cloth swab over his eyes, and then he could open, and blink, and try to focus.

"Good. Can you see okay?"

He nodded.

"Do you know where you are?"

He smiled weakly. Where else in the entire world would something like this happen to somebody?

"Afgha--," he croaked out, painfully.

The nurse nodded once, and made a note on the clipboard.

"Well, you were, until about 5 days ago. You were brought here after the attack, and we've been waiting for you to come around. Welcome back, soldier."

"Thanks," he coughed, and then fell silent.

"I'll let you rest. You have some work ahead of you, Will. But we'll get you patched up and on your way as soon as we can."

He lapsed back into unconsciousness, to experience an endless, silent replay of the explosion, as he had non-stop for the last 5 days.

A few hours later a buddy from his unit stopped by his bed. Their conversation was a simple one.

"Grizz?"

A shake of the head.

"Peters?"

A slow shake.

"Donnelly?"

A tear ran down the cheek as it rocked from side to side.

Silence.

* * *

The next morning, he was better able to hear, more willing to see, and eager to talk. He waited until the same nurse came by to check on him, and then he tried out his voice again.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" he said, his voice sounding scratchy and higher than he remembered it being.

"Yes?" she asked, coming close to him, her head cocked, smiling.

"Juliet." He said the word like a prayer, like a wish.

She squinted at him a moment, and then realized what he meant.

"Oh, your wife! Yes, of course. The doctor spoke to her the first night you were here, and then again after the surgery. She's aware of your condition. In fact," she leaned closer to him, speaking more quietly, "He said that she's taking it real well." She smiled, as if she knew this was something he was worried about.

He fixed her with a puzzled gaze. She paled.

"Oh--oh my. Has the doctor spoken to you? Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I assumed that--I marked on your chart that you were conscious and responsive, and when they see that they always come by to talk with you. Oh, I'm so sorry."

"What ... is ... it?" He pled with his eyes to be told, to know what it was that his wife of only a year was taking well.

"Let me get the doctor, honey," she said, and in an instant was up and gone.

Advances in surgical technique have revolutionized battlefield medicine, but every human endeavor has its bounds. There was nothing the doctors could do to reverse the paralysis that would leave Will's legs useless for the rest of his life. The considered him extremely "lucky," however, in that his paraplegia did not seem to have completely disabled his lower abdominal systems. He was continent, could control his bowels, and there was a chance, his urologist assured him brightly, that he might someday regain sexual function.

Will did not feel lucky.

Heaped with bad news, he was shipped home for several months of rehab at a VA hospital near his hometown--if you consider two states away to be "near." Juliet joined him there, and was involved in his treatment, at least at first. She had been relieved to see that he looked pretty much the same as when she saw him off for his tour 6 months earlier. He had always been the most handsome man in the room, any room, and he still was: a shock of brown hair, clear golden-brown eyes, the wide smile and the broad shoulders. Just that now he was in a wheelchair. Forever.

He worked as hard at physical therapy as he worked at everything he did in life: school, jobs, the service. If he was going to be in a wheelchair, he was going to go strong. He lifted weights every day, building what had been a lithe and defined torso into a sculpture of muscle and tendon. He built up his endurance in the wheelchair, until the staff, inspired by his dedication, took up a collection for a racing chair so that he could rack up the miles smoothly. And his legs remained still.

As Will worked to regain his strength, Juliet's focus turned to the family she had hoped to start. She pushed the urological team to come up with new options to restore his virility; surgery failed, Viagra left his heart fibrillating, an implanted pump would be useless without the muscles for ejaculation. She pushed and pushed and when that came to nothing she nagged and cried. Finally the team made one more suggestion: that she manually stimulate his prostate in order to encourage an erection and jump-start the ejaculatory system. It was a somewhat unlikely prospect, but it was the last thing they could offer.

"You want me to what?" she asked in a flat monotone.

"Mrs. Patchett, it's a very simple procedure. You simply lubricate and insert your finger--"

"Oh my god you cannot be serious. Did you just use the word 'insert'? He's a man, for god's sake!"

"Yes, Mrs. Patchett, he is. And this may help him feel even more a man. Once you have inserted your finger, you simply locate the prostate gland by--"

"I'm going to be sick! There's no way I'm going to diddle my husband like a prom date. You people are out of your minds."

"Please calm down. Now, if manual stimulation is out of the question, you can also use an electrical stimulator that you simply insert--"

"A dildo? An electric goddamn dildo? I can't listen to any more of this. I'm leaving."

And she did, leaving the urological team--and Will--out of options.

That night, the nightmare replay of the explosion was replaced with a new horror. Will found himself, in his chair, naked, surrounded by people he knew. As he focused in on them, he saw that they were friends of his from the army, from college, all the way back to high school. Then he noticed they were all naked, and sporting enormous erections. They laughed and pointed at his tiny, shriveled member as they stroked their own grotesquely large cocks. Meanwhile, Juliet made her way around the circle, pausing to lick or kiss or suck each prick, sighing and moaning as she went. Suddenly, the heat and noise rose to an unbearable pitch, and Will saw the cocks start to shoot. Long, flowing streams of white jetted out of every one, arcing high in the air and landing on him, covering with smelly, sticky spunk. He sat, soaked, in the middle, knowing that he would never experience sex again. He awoke in a sweat--a flaccid, panting sweat. He realized then--felt the truth of it in his gut--that he would never again experience sex.

Will eventually settled into a long-term rehab routine with a new therapist at the VA across the city he called home. Lucas was Will's age, and they hit it off immediately, both as therapist and patient and, soon, as friends. After working in the clinic for a couple of weeks they started running together, Will in his racing chair and Lucas running barefoot alongside.

For the first time Will started to feel as strong as he had been before the explosion, and he sometimes could go hours without remembering that he was a paraplegic. His spirits were lifting. He felt it was time to push on something that Juliet had been unwilling to do.

"Come on, hon, just give it a try. For me?"

"No, Will. It's disgusting."

"But if it works, we could start a family. Do you really want to give that up?"

She looked at him, unconvinced.

"Look, it'll be easy," he said, as he lifted himself off of his chair and onto the bed. He pulled his sweats off, as well as his shirt, and he sat before her, naked. He moved his legs apart, and lay back a bit.

His body still had the power to move her. From his head down to his waist, he was completely normal--more than normal, in fact. The wheelchair work had built his upper body to a steely strength that was breathtaking; his pectorals were slabs of pure muscle, and his abs were tightly cut into an eight-pack. His cock, of course, he had not been exercising, but it was still the long, silky wonder that it had always been. She started to think that perhaps she could figure out a way to make this work.

"Just give it a go, okay?" he pleaded.

"Oh, all right," she finally said. "But I'm going to stop if it gets too weird."

"Okay. Whatever you say," he assured her.

She took the bottle of lube from him, and greased up her finger. She brought it to his anus, and began to push. Her finger suddenly slid in, all the way. He gasped and jumped a bit, and she panicked and pulled out.

"That was great! I could totally feel you in there! That's a good sign, they said. It means that some of the nerves are still connected."

But Juliet was looking at her finger, slick and shiny with lube, and at Will's ass, spread wide and pink from the friction of his first penetration. She suddenly retched and bolted from the bed, to the bathroom, where she could throw up in peace.

Will was devastated. He slid back over onto his chair and wheeled to the bathroom. he pushed the door open, and saw her sitting on the edge of the bathtub, crying. She looked over at him, naked and pathetic, his pale, withered legs sitting hanging uselessly, his cock curled, flaccid, in his lap. She saw him for the first time as the sad case he was: he'll never walk, never fuck, never do anything worth doing. And now there were tears rolling down his cheeks to complete the look.

"Juliet, I know it's hard--"

"No, it's not hard, and that's the problem," she spat at him. She saw this pain this caused him, and she backed off. A bit. "Look, I love you, but I can't do this. I just can't. I'm going to pack a bag and get out of here for a few days, and then we'll work stuff out when I come back."

She never came back.

* * *

Will waited for three days, knowing in his heart that she would not return. But he didn't leave the house, in case she decided to do what she had said she would. By the time Lucas called to find out why Will had missed several therapy appointments, he had admitted to himself that it was over.

"She left? Just like that?" Lucas asked, in disbelief.

"Yeah. Just like that. I don't know where she is, or if she's even coming back for her stuff. I've just been sitting here, waiting."

"You mean you haven't left the house in three days? What have you been eating?"

"Oh, there was some stuff in the kitchen. It's mostly gone now. Hey, I had to learn how to do this stuff on my own sometime, right? I guess now is the time."

"Look, I'm going to swing by and see how you're doing, okay? Just sit tight."

"Lucas, there's no need for that. I can take care of myself. If I've learned anything through this experience, it's that."

"I'd feel better if I could see for myself that you're okay. I'll be by in 15 minutes."

Given that Will lived 20 minutes from the hospital, he was impressed by Lucas's determination to get there in 15.

He was there 12 minutes later.

Will rolled to the door, opened it, and let in a distraught Lucas.

"Oh my god, Will, are you okay? What can I do?" Lucas paused to breathe. "Okay, so we know what's first. You smell like the Green Bay Packers' laundry hamper. We need to get you in the shower, pronto. Now, where's the bathroom?"

Will chuckled at Lucas's boisterous entrance, and pointed down the hall.

"Let's roll," Lucas called as he pushed Will briskly toward the bath.

The house had not yet been modified to accommodate Will's chair, so he had indeed not been able to bathe himself without Juliet's help. Arriving in the bathroom, Lucas started the water going, and then he helped Will undress and lifted him out of his chair and onto a jury-rigged shower bench. Slipping into his professional role, Lucas began to tend to Will.

"Dude, I can wash my own hair," Will protested as Lucas worked his scalp into a froth.

"Oh, sorry!" Lucas laughed. "I got carried away. I'll step out now and leave you to it."

"Will you stay in the room, though? It's been pretty lonely here."

"Of course. I just feel so bad about what happened with Juliet. I don't mean to pry, but--okay, I'm going to pry. What the fuck happened?"

"I think it was building for a while. She really wanted a family, and this," he pointed to his legs, "means that I can't give her that. I guess she kind of snapped. I'm not the man she married."

"That's horrible. You're every bit the man you have always been. Anyone can see that."

"Well, the one who needed to see it the most didn't, so now that's over."

Will finished his shower, and Lucas helped him dry and dress.

"Look, Will, you can't stay by yourself in this house. Nothing's been set up for you to live alone here. You can't get your chair near enough to the shower, and the kitchen needs to be reworked, and there's no way you can get to the second floor."

"Yeah, but what am I supposed to do, check into a motel? I can't afford that."

Lucas knew he shouldn't, but he went ahead anyway.

"Come stay with me."

Will looked up at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"I said, come stay with me. My place is all set up for a chair. My older brother was in one--he's the reason I went into physical therapy. He lived with me for years."

"But there's no reason why you should have to take care of me. I mean, your brother, that's one thing, that's family, but--"

"And Juliet was your family, and she decided not to do it. So, here I am, and I want to help. Please take me up on it."

Will considered this. It had been depressing being alone in the house, not to mention frustrating--the coffee was on a high shelf, which he tried to reach for two days before grabbing a broom and whacking everything off of it at once. It would be a relief not to have to do everything himself.

"Okay, for one night. But tomorrow I'm going to get some stuff changed around here so I can be here on my own again."

"Deal. Now, what do you need to take?"

Will gathered up clothes, and medicine, and his toiletry kit, and was pretty much ready to move in two minutes--like a good soldier. Last to go in was the laptop, which reminded him that he hadn't checked his email since before Juliet left. He opened the laptop and saw that she was still logged in. Her email was up on the screen. He was about to log her out when a phrase caught his eye:

"He wakes up screaming, which is bad enough, but when he doesn't wake up it's even worse, because he thrashes around. I'm afraid he's going to hurt me."

What the fuck? Juliet wrote this to her sister, about a week ago. There was more, much more:

"They say that PTSD shows up about four to six months after this kind of injury. That's what it's been, and I'm noticing changes. PTSD is the only thing that explains his anger at being paralyzed."

"He's just wasting away. I mean, his legs just dangle there. I cry myself to sleep every night thinking of what he was when I married him."

And, finally:

"He's sinking into depression, and once that happens I know I won't be safe here. It's one thing not to be able to have the kids I've always wanted, but it's something else to feel like my life is at risk."

Hot tears filled Will's eyes, and ran down his cheeks. Was he really the monster that Juliet claimed he was? Could he have hurt her in his sleep? Was he "sinking"? His pride in what he had accomplished despite his injuries evaporated, and was replaced with shame and doubt and guilt. He had ruined his marriage. He had driven her away.

"Ready to go, Will?" called Lucas from the front door.

Will cleared his throat, and replied.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way. Just needed to grab a couple last things. Be right there."

He shut the laptop and rolled down the hall.

The drive to Lucas's house was less than an hour, and they got there just before dinner time. They stowed Will's pack in the guest room, which had been Lucas's brother's, and then settled on the back porch with a six-pack and a sunset. They were polishing off the beer before either spoke.

"So, what do you want to eat?" Lucas asked, in the most upbeat tone he could muster.

Will was silent.

"She left me, dude. She just left."

"Yeah, she did. Do you think she's coming back?"

Will snorted. "Hell no. Once she does something, it stays done. She's gone 6 years not talking to her cousin because she borrowed a dress of hers without asking. Something like this? Never. She's gone for good." Will tipped up his third beer. "And this is fine for dinner. Chewing is overrated anyway."

"You have to eat. I'm guessing you're not vegan?" Lucas grinned.

"Heh. No, not really. Anything would be fine. I'm not picky, I'm Army."

"Well, I'll try to scare up something that will be better than MREs. And I'll grab another of these," he said, picking up the paperboard beer holder.

Lucas grilled, Will ate, they both drank. And they were thankful for the company--Will because he needed to know that someone would be willing to stay in his presence despite the risks, and Lucas because his house had felt empty since Michael finally succumbed to his illness last year. He enjoyed having someone to care for, and Will was smart and funny and easy to get along with.

A cat entered the screen porch, meowing insistently. Will reached a hand down and rubbed its head, and it purred contentedly. 

"Cat person, huh?" he asked Lucas.

"No, not really. Michael was, though. She was sort of a companion animal for him. She was always with him, even after he ran over her tail a couple of times. Since he's been gone, she just wanders around complaining at me."

"She's nice. What's her name?"

"Pebbles. But if you want her to come, all you need to do is open a can of something. I gave her tuna once, and from then on she hears the can opener, she's there. Drives me up the wall. But she reminds me of Michael, and having her around is like a link to him."

"You miss him," Will said simply, not a question.

Lucas sighed. "I do. Even though I took care of him most of my life, he was always my big brother. After our parents were gone, he was all I had."

Will raised his glass--they had switched to whiskey sours after dinner--and said, "To Michael."




Hope Among the Deserted



"To Michael," Lucas said, and they drank. And drank some more.

It was after midnight when Lucas stood, with difficulty, and pushed aside the empty bottle of Jack Daniels that they had resorted to when getting up to mix drinks required too much concentration.

"Time for bed, soldier," he slurred, and Will stirred slightly, but was nowhere near conscious. "Crap," Lucas muttered.

He rolled Will into the house, which began spinning so fast that he knew it would only stop if it landed on the Wicked Witch of the East--or if he crawled on all fours. As neither was an option, he pushed Will's chair as best he could, mostly missing the furniture along the way. He got as far as the first room along the hallway, his, and he knew he could go no further. He turned in, and stopped when Will's feet hit the bed frame. Lucas lifted Will out of the chair--a task made easier by Will's reduced weight, and made harder by Lucas's reduced sobriety. They fell onto the bed, and then Lucas positioned Will with his head on a pillow. He covered him, and then stumbled around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. He lay there for no more than a minute, willing the room to stop spinning. Then he passed out.

* * *

Bright and early in the morning, the birds chirped and sputtered outside the window, and they slept. Then the morning light flooded the room, a blinding beam slashing across the head of the bed, and still they slept. It wasn't until Pebbles arrived much later to lodge a grievance about food service that they were jolted awake; she landed on the bed between them and howled mournfully. Their eyes flew open, startled and unfocused. Each turned toward the noise, and each saw the other.

Oh, fuck, he thought.

Lucas bolted up out of bed, and Will's instinct was to do the same. His instinct, though, called upon modes of action that his body no longer had access to; he flailed his arms and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a crash.

What did I do to him when I was out of it? What horrible thing don't I remember? He's probably freaked out and doesn't want to be anywhere near me. The best friend I've got now, and I fucked it up.

Each thought this, to himself, on opposite sides of the bed. Then Lucas's training kicked in and he ran around the bed to pick up Will.

"Will, I--"

"No! Stay away from me!" shouted Will, pushing Lucas away.

"But Will, nothing happened! I swear!" Lucas replied, also shouting.

"I can't do this. How did I end up here? Why were you and I--"

"I can explain. I was just too drunk to get you into the other bedroom. I'm so sorry, Will! It won't happen again. Can you forgive me?"

Will looked at him, unsure.

"For what? I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"What? Why would you say that?" Lucas was in a complete fog of confusion. What were they talking about?

"Look, I can explain, and then you'll see why we can't do this," Will said.

Lucas took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay. Let's just calm down. I'll go make some coffee, and we'll talk it out, okay?" Lucas escaped to the kitchen, overwhelmed and still hung over.

Shit, now I've ruined it with him, each one thought.

A few minutes later Will rolled into the kitchen, the smell of coffee drawing him in. He had brushed his teeth and washed up a bit, and was feeling more human now. He hadn't seen Lucas's kitchen the night before, and took it in as he sipped from the mug that Lucas handed him. It was original to the mid-1940s house, with painted cupboards and a huge gas range; copper pots hung above the low butcher block island in the middle. It was like something on one of those home makeover shows Juliet was always watching.

Lucas pulled up a chair to the island, which had been designed to accommodate a wheelchair. Will rolled up to it and rubbed his eyes.

How do I explain this, each one thought.

"Look," Lucas started, having taken a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was going to say.

"No, wait. Let me explain. Please?"

Lucas, surprised, nodded.

"When I was packing up last night to come here, I found some emails that Juliet had sent to her sister, and some of her friends. She was completely freaked out by me. She was worried that I had PTSD and was going to murder her in her sleep or something. And she said I was wasting away, and getting depressed, and now I see why she left."

He took a deep breath, and Lucas started to say something, but he put up a hand and stopped him.

"And so that's why I was so panicked this morning. I can't be around anyone right now, especially when I'm sleeping--that was when Juliet was most worried about me. I could have killed you, Lucas! There's some kind of monster inside me that I can't control. Can you just take me back to my house today? I need to be alone--it'll be better for everyone if I'm alone."

Lucas sipped his coffee and regarded Will. He saw tears forming in his friend's eyes, and his heart broke. He couldn't add to his burden, so he decided not to say anything about why he too had leapt out of bed this morning.

"Look," Lucas said, putting his hand on Will's arm, "I can take care of myself. I was in the service too, you know. I'm a big boy, and I can handle it. You don't need to worry."

"But I can't control it!"

"Control what? You passed out last night, just like I did. You woke up this morning, just like I did. No harm done. Except that I have a hangover and you appear to be just fine, which I hate you for."

Will chuckled. "I can be a cheap drunk, but I bounce back pretty good."

"Now, let's have no more of this 'I'm not fit for human company' bullshit, okay? I'm going to make breakfast, and then we'll figure out what to do today."

"Don't you have to go to work?" Will asked.

"Nah. I called in sick, started the weekend early. How do you like your eggs?"

"Cooked by someone other than me."

"Very funny. Now you just sit tight and I'll get something going."

Lucas worked away in the kitchen, pleased to have someone to cook for. The fact that he hadn't been completely honest with Will weighed on him slightly, but he would fix that soon. Or soon-ish.

They went for a run, and then Lucas dug out his catalogs of adaptive devices so that they could plan for modifications to Will's house. Everything they found needed to be customized and installed, though, so it became clear pretty quickly that Will wouldn't be going home tonight. This troubled him. It delighted Lucas.

After dinner, they retired to the back porch again, though this time they skipped the alcohol.

"That was amazing," Will said. "What did you say that was again?"

"Pot-au-feu," Lucas answered. "Just a simple one from the Julia Child book."

Will shook his head.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"I don't get you," Will replied.

"What don't you get?"

"You cook like a fucking chef, you have this beautiful house, you take care of people like you're on a mission from god--"

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Please continue."

"What I can't figure out is why you're not married. How has some completely hot woman not lured you down the aisle?"

"Not the marrying kind," Lucas said simply. He wished he had one of those whiskey sours right about now.

"Heh. Who is? I kinda wish I hadn't been. Would've made things simpler for me."

"No, Will. I mean I'm--really--not the marrying kind."

Will's mouth opened, and then shut, and then opened again.

"Really? No shit?"

"No shit."

"Huh. Okay."

Lucas looked out over the backyard, wishing for some distraction. None appeared. He looked back over at Will.

"So, um, are you--" he began, not sure where he was going with that sentence.

"Oh, it's no big deal. I served with a bunch of gay guys. Matter of fact, Donnelly, one of the guys who got pasted in the explosion, was. Good guy--the kind you'd want on your team when the shit started flying. Fuckin' shame, that was."

Lucas got up and poured a couple of whiskeys.

"His partner asked me on the phone what it was like for him at the end, and I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't see what happened to him. I just saw the pieces."

Lucas poured more whiskey into each glass.

"I told him that he went quickly, and wasn't in pain, and that he died doing what was most important to him. So basically I lied. What was really most important to him was being back home with his partner of ten years and living the happy fucking life he wanted to live. Getting turned into shredded beef in Afghanistan was never in his plan. At all."

Lucas handed Will a glass. They touched the rims together.

"To Donnelly," Lucas said, and took a big gulp of the raw alcohol.

"To Donnelly," Will repeated, and drained his glass.

"So you're really okay with the gay thing?" Lucas asked.

"Psssh. Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we ended up in bed together last night, and--"

"Lucas, you may not have noticed this, but I'm not exactly in full working order when it comes to sex. So I know that's not what you're after."

Lucas, knowing this was not true, nodded anyway. Will, suspecting the same, nodded too. Better to pretend it was settled.

"Now, before it gets too late and we get too blotto, we should turn in," Will said. "I didn't sleep all that well last night."

"Yeah, me either. Why don't you go ahead and shower, and I'll get in after you."

"Did I see a bathtub in there? With a door?"

"Yeah, Michael loved to take baths. It gave him a feeling of weightlessness that he really seemed to enjoy. Would you like to take a bath?"

"That would be awesome. I haven't taken one since I got home--our tub was just too deep for me to manage."

"Well, try it out and see if you want to get one like it."

They rolled into the bathroom, and Lucas helped Will take off his clothes and get into the tub. He watched the look of bliss on Will's face as the warm water rose up to surround his body. He looked so comfortable and happy. Lucas was less comfortable, mainly because seeing Will naked and wet had given him a tremendous boner. He was beautiful--two kinds of beautiful. From the waist up he was strong and muscled and sinewy, and then below his legs were delicate and pale and laced over with dark, soft hair. The paralysis had wasted much of the muscle in his legs, but they were still beautifully formed. It was the part in the middle that took Lucas's breath away; Will's cock was a work of art. As it lay, at leisure, atop his egg-sized balls, waving back and forth slightly in the running water, Lucas wished more than anything that his touch could bring it back to life. A waste of such fine flesh, he thought.

"What?" Will asked, jarring him out of his reverie.

"What what?" Lucas replied, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Dude, you were totally checking me out!"

"I was not!"

Will smiled broadly and laughed. "You were too! Do I have to remind you that nothing below the waist works any more? I wouldn't want you to waste your time."

Lucas wasn't sure how to respond to this, so he decided to be clinical.

"Will, you know that there's still a chance that sexual function could return."

"Yeah, I know. But I don't really hold out much hope for that anymore. Seems like it would have happened by now."

"Have they tested you for nocturnal erections?"

"What?"

"They can test to see if you get erections when you sleep. Happens to just about all of us throughout the night, and especially in the morning. You know, like when you wake up with a boner, and you want it to go down so that you can get in the shower and not have every one in the unit looking at your--well, unit."

Will chuckled. "How do they test that?"

"They fit you with a pressure band--around the base of your penis--and a probe goes up your butt to record some internal readings. Then in the morning, they download the data and find out if you're boning up at night."

"Why do these things always involve something going up the butt? I swear, you VA guys are all alike. If we just let you at the butt all our dreams can come true."

Lucas laughed, trying hard not to think about Will's butt, which was, like everything else on him, sculptural.

"So, no, I don't think that I'll be sticking a probe up my ass to see if my dick gets hard," Will concluded, and then closed his eyes to soak in the warmth of the bath.

"But if you are getting hard during the night, you'll know that the nerves and vessels are intact, and you can work on getting back to normal sexual function."

"I don't think I'm up for it right now, if you get my meaning," Will said.

"Well, there's an easier way."

Will's eyes flew open. "I knew it! You want to give it a crank, don't you?"

Will laughed as he said this, which Lucas was relieved about but completely befuddled by. Oh, how he did want that, but he wouldn't. Couldn't.

"No. Amazing as it seems, I don't want to jump you." He did, but not unless Will wanted it too. "What I was thinking is that tonight I could check to see whether you, um, firm up as you sleep. Then you'll know, without anything having to go up your butt."

It was a risky suggestion, but Lucas had blurted it out anyway. Now he held his breath.

Will considered this idea, then squinted at Lucas. "In the interest of science only, right?"

"Right."

Will thought for a moment more.

"Okay, I'm in."

* * *

Lucas couldn't believe what was happening. The man he had been helping for months, whom he had fallen pretty hard for, was in his home, and would be in his bed, naked, with him tonight.

After Will's bath, and Lucas's shower, they went to the bedroom and stopped, somewhat awkwardly, before the bed.

"Ready?" Lucas asked.

Will nodded. "Ready."

Lucas picked up Will and placed him back on the bed--his side of the bed, as Lucas shocked himself by thinking--and took off his t-shirt. He then slid his shorts off down his legs, and marveled at the beauty of this man who would be sleeping next to him tonight.

"Are you sure that you're going to be able to wake up through the night to check on me?" asked Will.

"Are you kidding me? I won't be able to sleep a wink knowing that you're there all naked and helpless. I'll be trying hard to control myself." Lucas meant to be funny, and also completely truthful.

"Yeah, right," Will replied, swatting at Lucas with a pillow. "Now get in."

Lucas went around to the other side of the bed, and pulled back the sheets.

"Uh-uh, wait a minute there, chief. If I'm going to be naked, you gotta be naked too. Fair's fair."

Lucas willed his cock not to respond to this provocation; he was completely unsuccessful. Nevertheless, he stripped off and climbed into bed. Will caught a glimpse of his erect cock as he pulled the covers over.

"Whoa. Even when mine worked it didn't get that big."

"Er, thanks?" Lucas was unsure of the polite way to respond to compliments from a straight man about one's penis size. "Yours is pretty hefty too." No, that probably wasn't the right thing to say.

Will chuckled. "Here's something I've always wondered. What do you see in guy's stuff that is so great? I mean, I like mine and all, and I certainly spent a good part of my teenage years giving it all the attention I could, but I've never really gotten what the attraction is."

Were they really going to have this conversation now? In bed? Naked?

"It's not the 'stuff,' really," replied Lucas. "At least it never has been for me. It has to be attached to someone I'm attracted to, not just in the way he looks, but in his personality, his character. If someone has an awesome personality, the way his dick looks makes no difference at all. I would love it because I love him."

Will considered this for a moment, then nodded.

"I think I get it. It's like how straight guys think about tits. You know, if the tits are great, then you'll find a way to love her personality."

"Yeah, that's not really the same thing. At all."

"I know, I'm just yankin' your chain."

"Heh, good one," Lucas replied. This was going to be harder than he thought. Why did Will have to be so fucking charming?

"Well, good night," Will said, with a yawn. "Let me know if something comes up in the night, okay?"

Lucas laughed. "I will. Now go dream about supermodels or something."

"You have now idea how straight guys work, do you?"

"Nope. Not a straight bone in my body."

"I find it hard to believe you've never had a straight bone in your body. You talked me out of my clothes and into your bed lickety-split. I think you could get anyone you wanted, straight or gay."

Lucas tried to breathe.

"And Lucas?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks, buddy. You're awesome to do this."

"My pleasure. Seriously."

"I know," giggled Will, who was asleep within seconds. An important skill on deployment, Lucas knew, to grab sleep when you could.

Lucas kept a close eye on Will throughout the night, checking for signs of stirring under the thin sheet that covered him. There was no motion at all, though Lucas had plenty to look at: the way that Will's eyelids flicked when he dreamed, the tensing of his abs as he breathed deeply, the way his collarbone stood out in high relief as his muscles tensed in response to something in his dream.

As dawn crept into the room, Lucas was blinking long, slow nods and fighting to stay awake. This would be the most crucial point, as the pre-waking erection is the most reliable indicator. He watched Will's crotch closely, hoping to see some movement. Desperate, he slowly lifted the sheet off Will's slumbering body so that he could get a closer look. He moved gently until his face was less than a foot away from Will's crotch, close enough to see the pubic hair curling around the base of his sleeping cock, close enough to see the balls moving slightly in their sac. Lucas pleaded in his mind for Will's penis to come to life, to give him some sign of hope. The room was fully light now, and still no movement. Shit.

Just as Lucas was about to pull the covers back up, he saw it. A slight, throbbing movement in Will's cock--just a gentle rocking back and forth in time with the beating of his heart. Then it began to move, to stretch upward. It lengthened, slowly at first, and then more quickly as the flowing blood filled and stiffened it. Lucas was thrilled, and he had to stop himself from laughing in surprise and excitement. He didn't wake Will, because that would likely stop the growing erection; he wanted to see how hard it would get. It continued to grow, to a length that surprised Lucas; clearly Will's compliment on his own erection was given from a position of strength. Lucas was certain that Will's was longer than his, if slightly thinner. It was beautiful. And it was hard, which was the best news ever. He could hardly wait to tell Will.

He replaced the covers, and settled back on the pillow to get a little sleep. It would be a good morning.

Pebbles woke them again, registering her displeasure with all of this sleeping in. Lucas lifted her off the bed and would have dropped her out the window if he could have reached it. But Will was awake now too, and he turned to Lucas.

"So, did I have a hard night?"

Lucas smiled. "No, but you did have a hard morning."

Will was elated, at first. "Whoo hoo! I can get a hard-on! When I'm asleep!" He considered this further. "When there's nothing at all I can do with it. Yay..." He trailed off.

"Oh, ease up on yourself. The fact that you can get an erection means that the function is there. Now you just have to work on making it happen when you're awake."

"Yeah, but what if I can get it up but I can't shoot? Fat lot of good a stiffy does me if I can't come."

"Well, we don't know that part yet. You might be able to ejaculate--we won't know that until you try."

"But I have tried! For the first few weeks I tried every day--sometimes several times a day. I tried stroking it, I used Juliet's massager thing on it, I did everything I could think of. No dice."




Hope Among the Deserted



"Well, maybe it took a while for the function to return. You could try again."

"Right now, with you here watching me?" Will grinned at Lucas.

What did that grin mean? Lucas was completely unable to figure Will out.

"No, of course not! I'll leave you alone to try."

"Oh hell no! You're my lucky charm, buddy, and you're not going anywhere. But no touching, okay?"

"Promise. Should I look the other way?"

"Nah, you were watching this morning when it happened, so you can watch again. Wouldn't want to jinx it."

Lucas shook his head in disbelief. The stuff this guy comes up with.

* * *

Will pulled the covers off, revealing his cock in its seemingly perpetual slumber. He gingerly wrapped his fingers around it, teasing it with his fingertips, rubbing gently over the head and down the long, soft shaft. Lucas was rapt as he studied the technique. Will increased the tempo, and varied the stroke, and did everything he could think of, to no avail. He slowed, clearly disappointed.

"Well--" he began.

"Wait! I know!" Lucas turned to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube he kept there. "Try this!"

Will looked at the bottle, then at Lucas. He nodded.

Lucas opened the bottle and squirted a bead of lube up the length of Will's cock.

"You could have just put it into my hand," Will said, teasing.

"Sorry, I just got a little excited," Lucas replied.

"Let's hope it's catching."

Will's hand moved slickly up and down his shaft, the lube crackling. His cock, stubbornly, refused to perform. He tried for several minutes, and slowed as he realized it was not going to happen. He turned to Lucas, his face etched with despair. Then he turned away, and lay still, staring at the wall.

"Will? Will, it's not as bad as it might seem. There are still things we can try."

Will grunted. "What do you mean, we? This isn't your problem."

"The hell it ain't! As a gay man, I take a limp dick in my bed personally."

Will laughed under his breath. He turned back to Lucas.

"You are something else," he said. "As bad as it gets, you just keep coming back. A guy can't stay depressed around you."

"That's what friends are for, right?"

Will thought about that, and about how Juliet would have reacted to what had just happened.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm glad you invited me to stay. I know I still have problems to work on, but you make me feel like I can take them on."

He looked down at the limp member that had betrayed him so.

"You know, it's funny. When you're young, you take hard-ons for granted. You think you'll always have one handy, and you even get them when you don't want them--like when you have to stand in front of speech class. You never think you're going to face something like this. I had this friend in high school," Will recalled, "who was obsessed with finding out how many times he could come in a row. So he started working on it, and then he tells us he can come seven times in an hour. Well, we don't believe him, because, you know, ouch--who would do that? But he insists that he did it, and he's going to prove it. So we go to his house after school one day--all five of us guys--and go up to his room, and he just flops down on the bed, whips off his pants, and starts beatin' it. Damndest thing I ever saw. And he shoots within like 20 seconds of starting, which was kind of surprising. But he just keeps whackin' it, and pretty soon there goes another one. This goes on for almost an hour, and he's just about to do number seven when we hear his mom pull into the driveway. We scatter, and he tries to get cleaned up and dressed before she gets into the house, but he ended up with big wet spots on his shirt where he still had cum on his chest. God, that was funny."

Lucas just shook his head. "The stuff straight guys do, I tell ya. It's like a different world."

"What, you gonna tell me that you never did a circle jerk or anything?"

"First, that wasn't a circle jerk--that was a live sex show. Second, no. I mean, a bunch of guys standing in a circle, watching each other wank? That's weird, and frustrating. If I can't touch, I might as well be watching porn."

"You don't stand there looking at each other."

"Where do you look, then? And are the rules written down somewhere? Because I would love to read that."

"You're a funny man--a regular comedian. And the circle thing is not weird. I guess you have to have experienced it to understand."

"Is that an offer? If you could scare up a couple of friends as hot as you, I'd be up for giving it a try."

"You know, the worst thing about being paralyzed is not being able to kick your ass. But I am going to make that a physical therapy goal." Will grinned.

"That's the spirit. Now up and at 'em, big guy. Let's get 5 miles in before breakfast."

Back from their run, Lucas made breakfast while Will made coffee--it was satisfying for him to be able to do something on his own, and Lucas's house was set up for it. After breakfast they sat and talked--it had become Will's favorite thing to do, as he found Lucas intriguing. Lucas, for his part, simply found Will to be the man of his dreams--with one significant disability. His straightness. No one's perfect, right?

"So, tell me," Will said, wiping the last bit of egg off his plate with a corner of toast, "Is cooking school part of the mandatory gay training?"

Lucas just stared at Will, momentarily stunned by his cluelessness.

"I mean," Will continued, "Do all of you do it this well?"

"Of course. It's one of the things we all learn at Gay Camp." Lucas got up with the plates and set them on the sink, perhaps a little too roughly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. It's just that for such an open-minded guy you seem to have very little beyond stereotypes to work with. Did you really get to know any of the gay people you've met?"

"When you're in a combat situation, you get to know people really well really fast. But you get to know things that matter: does he shoot well? Can she fly us out of this valley? Does he really have my back? We didn't exactly have the leisure to cover cooking and decorating and all that. And, no, I haven't really known any gay people outside of the ones I met during my tour. So perhaps some of my ideas are a little stereotyped. I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can."

"It just seems funny to me that you are so accepting of gay people, and yet you don't really seem to know what being gay means."

"What it means is that you should be treated exactly like everyone else. That's what America means. That's what I joined up to defend."

"You should wave a flag when you say that." Lucas smiled despite himself, intrigued by this patriotic side of Will.

"Shut up. I love my country, even when it does the wrong thing sometimes. Don't Ask Don't Tell was a fucking joke, and we all knew it. And we all are happy to see it go. I'm still proud to live in a country where we can acknowledge our mistakes and move on without having a coup or something. America is pretty durable, and I think that's awesome."

"You sir, are a patriot," Lucas announced, in his most dignified voice, and he raised his coffee mug in salute.

"So, now, tell me about this Gay Camp."

"Shut up, dickwad."

"See, now, that's just what a straight guy would say. Are you really sure you're gay? They find out you're talking that way they might cut up your membership card."

"Would a straight guy sit up all night watching your cock?"

"Would a gay guy sit up all night watching my cock and not touch it?"

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm going to grope you when you're unconscious."

"Yeah, but look at it from my point of view. You say you're gay, you tell me I'm hot, and then we spend all night naked in bed and you don't even cop a quick feel? How could I not be insulted?"

Lucas just stared at Will, his jaw slack. What the fuck?

"Will, I wouldn't do that. You're straight, and I'm not really interested in complicating your life by mashing on you. And what would happen if I did? Where would it lead?"

"Relax, dude! I was kidding. Mostly. I think. Look, here's the deal. I'm trying to figure out if I have any sex life ahead of me at all. Going through this, I'm starting to think that I'm just never going to be a sexual being at all any more. I mean, the woman who vowed to love me in sickness and in health took a good look at my sad, broken junk and got the hell out of Dodge. Now, I respect that you are gay, and I trust you not to do anything that might threaten my sexual identity or whatever. But you have to understand that for someone who thinks his sex life is probably over, sleeping with a gay guy who's not even interested in him is kind of a blow."

Lucas was stumped again. No words came to him at all. Will tried again.

"Look, I know this is incoherent. I don't want you to do anything sexual with me. But I want you to want to do something sexual with me. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Actually, it's the first thing you've said that makes sense," Lucas replied.

"Good."

"I mean, it's stupid, but it makes sense."

"Gee, thanks for your support."

"Think about what you're asking me to do: tell you that I want you, but not to actually touch you. Or to touch you while you're sleeping and then, what? Tell you I touched you? Lie to you and tell you I wanted to touch you, but didn't? This is all pretty much around the bend, Will."

"Well, when you say it that way it doesn't really make much sense. But honestly, I don't know how much sense sex makes even under ideal conditions. Women say no when they really mean yes, except when no means no, except that no should always mean no, except that it sometimes means yes. I don't know what I want anymore, except that I know I want to be able to have sex again, and maybe I'm not all that particular about what kind."

"So where does that leave us?" Lucas asked, a little dizzy from the twists and turns this conversation had taken.

"I don't know. If you could fix my cock, I'd let you do anything you wanted."

"But what could I do that Juliet couldn't?

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows gay guys are better at that kind of thing."

Lucas's jaw was becoming used to dropping open.

"What, now?"

"That's what just about every guy in my unit would say. If you want love, marry a nice woman. You want a good blowjob, find a fag."

"Charming."

"I would take it as a compliment."

"Would you, now?"

"Sure," Will continued. "Having straight guys acknowledge that you're good at what you do? Why isn't that a compliment?"

"Because blowjobs aren't what I do. I'm an actual person, not a walking stereotype."

Will sighed in exasperation.

"Okay, let me try to spell this out for you. I didn't mean for this to be a whole conversation on gay identity and stereotype and whatever the hell else we're talking about. I was just trying to tell you you're an amazing cook, and I love what you make. And you're an awesome therapist, and I love what you've done with my body. And you stuck by me when no one else would, and I love you for that."

"You love me?" Lucas gasped, sounding far too much like a middle-school girl.

"Yeah, I do. You took me in, you helped me, you were there for me when no one else was. Of course I love you. And I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Well," Lucas said, trying to keep on an even keel, "I have to say in return that it's been great to have someone in the house with me again. And I am inspired by your spirit and determination. And I ... um ... I ... love--"

"I know, I know. You don't have to say it. Geez, you gay guys are sure awkward with your emotions," Will laughed as he wheeled out of the kitchen.

* * *

Afternoon found them on the porch again, watching squirrels cavort in the trees.

"So, should we get you moved into the guest room for tonight?" Lucas asked.

Will looked at him, clearly taken aback by the question.

"You really must think I'm hideous," he sniffed. "Can't even stand to be near me, huh?"

Lucas grumbled under his breath. "Look, you have to stop doing that. I've been honest with you; you know that I find you insanely hot, and I would be all over you if it's what you wanted. But you don't want that. So why put on the big mopey act when I ask about moving you to the other bed? You can't keep doing this, Will."

Will looked hurt.

"I don't mean to be that way. I just meant--" he was stopped by the sudden appearance of tears in his eyes. He sniffed, and wiped his eyes. "I just meant that I don't think I'll ever be attractive to anyone again. Knowing that you find me hot is about the only thing that is keeping me going right now."

"Will, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I can't imagine what this is like for you."

"A big pile of hell, is what this is like."

"So, we sleep where we've been sleeping, and same rules apply?" Lucas asked. He wanted to be sure the rules of engagement were clear.

Will turned and looked out at the purple smudge where the sun had set. "No," he finally said, almost too quietly to be heard.

"What did you say? I didn't hear that."

"I said no."

"No what?"

"No, I don't want the same rules to apply." Will turned to face Lucas. "I want to see if you can do it."

"Do what?"

"Make it work."

Lucas was lost. "I don't mean to be dense, but what are we talking about?"

A smile played around the edges of Will's mouth. "What we're always talking about. My dick."

"Are you saying that you want me to try to help you get an erection?"

Will blushed--a first for him. He looked down.

"Yes. That's what I'm saying. I want you to try. I need to know."

Lucas was silent for a moment.

"I don't know, Will," he finally said. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Will looked up at him, clearly surprised.

"Why?"

Lucas sighed in exasperation. "Because it crosses a line, that's why. And once we cross that line, I don't know what happens. To us."

"I don't get it. Remember when I got the new chair, and my shoulders were all out of whack because of it? And you massaged me for an hour, every day, for month? You made it possible for me to use this chair. How is this different? You'd just be helping me regain something I've lost. That's what you do, isn't it?"

"But that was part of my job. This isn't." What he didn't say was that the VA only allowed for a 20-minute massage twice a week for two weeks; the rest of the time he'd been working off the clock to rub Will down.

"So, you're not even going to try? This is a line Juliet wouldn't cross either, you know. The uro team told her something she could try, and she freaked out. I'm out of options if you say no."

"I want to help you, but it's a huge risk."

"Hey, if it works, great. If it doesn't, then it doesn't. I haven't lost anything."

"That's not what I meant."

"What, then? What's the risk?"

"Us," Lucas said, quietly.

Will cocked his head, trying to figure what he meant. He waited for Lucas to continue.

"You know those 'fags' your buddies talked about, the ones who know how to give blowjobs?"

"Lucas, I said that that was something we joked about, but--"

"How many of them, do you think, were friends with the fags who blew them? Once the cum dried, do you think they went out and got a drink? Hung out on the weekends?"

"I don't--"

"I'll tell you. No. No, they weren't friends. They never saw those guys again. Because the only way for them to stay manly men was to never, ever lay eyes on the little fag who blew them. If they did, that would mean they were fags too, and they can't have that, can they?"

Lucas was shaking with silent rage, and something more--something that was causing tears to well up in his eyes.

"So that's why I can't do it, Will. I won't risk that. I won't have you get up out of my bed, and roll out of my house, and never look back. That would kill me. I won't ... I can't ..." His voice broke into small, quiet sobs that he tamped down as best he could.

Will looked stricken. He studied the pain-wracked face of his friend, trying to see what lay behind the tears.

"Who was he? Who did this to you?"

Lucas jolted. He tried to imagine how this strange, beautiful man seemed to be able to read him so clearly. He saw Will's eyes welling with empathy, his eyebrows raised in open attention. He looked down at his hands.

"Jason. His name was Jason. We roomed together when we started with the VA. Oh, god, Will, he was gorgeous. From the first moment I saw him I was done--head over heels. For months, we did everything together--dinner, movies, camping trips--we were together 24/7. He was straight, and made it clear to me that there was no wiggle room on that at all. But I was too young and stupid to listen to him, and I kept at it. I would do things for him, try to get him to see how much I wanted him. Finally, one night, he let me touch him. I don't know why--maybe he was just all pent-up and between girlfriends. I don't know. But that night, he let me. And I was so excited. I thought my dreams were going to come true. I went at him like a flock of starving hookers, and he loved it. I blew him three times that night, until he was exhausted. He even held me as he fell asleep. I was in heaven."

Will nodded, rapt.

"And then in the morning I woke up and he was dressed and out the door before I could say anything. That was it for us--he never spoke to me again if he could avoid it, never spent time in the room when I was there. He put in for a transfer that day, and was gone for good within a month. Never a fucking word. It was over."

Will put his hand on Lucas's arm. Lucas looked at him, right into his eyes.

"I am so sorry."

"I can't let that happen to us, Will. It's like a poison is released, and it's over. I don't want to lose you that way."

"You won't lose me."

"That's what you say now, but you can't know what will happen. I do."

"How can you ever know what will happen when sex is involved? I mean, I've been with women who seemed perfectly normal and then went completely ape-shit once we hit the sheets. Next morning it's all sideways and you have no idea what the hell happened."

"This is a little different, Will."

"Why? I know women all react differently to sex--are you saying that men are all guaranteed to do the same thing? How can you know what will happen?"

"Because straight men don't fall in love with gay men. It can't work. At least not for long. Sure, maybe I could have sucked Jason off every night for the rest of the time we were on that rotation, but it would have ended. I would have wanted to have a real relationship with him, and he would have been trying to find Ms. Right. No happy ending possible there."

"So you don't think people can switch teams? We can only do one thing?"

Lucas looked at Will in disbelief.

"Are you really sitting there trying to convince me that perhaps the next straight guy I manage to finagle into bed with me may suddenly realize that he loves my cooking and my decorating sense and decide, what the hell, he might as well start being gay too? Is that seriously what you are suggesting? Where I live--you know, in reality--that just doesn't happen."

"Why not?"

Lucas was pretty much at the end of his rope. Again.

"Think about it, straight guy. How likely are you to wake up tomorrow and decide that you're going to be all into--what was the word you used? Oh yeah: guys' 'stuff'? What are the odds on that one?"

Will was silent for a moment. studying his lap. When he spoke, it was almost inaudible.

"It would be easier."

"What?" Lucas could not trust his ears.

"I said that it would make a lot of things easier."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Will swallowed. "It means that if I could wake up tomorrow and realize that I loved you--not in the best friend sense, but really loved you--my life would be great. I mean, you are the kindest, sweetest guy I've ever met. You've opened your house to me, not to mention your bed, and treated me like I really matter. It would be heaven to stay here, and eat your cooking, and laugh at your jokes, and go to bed every night knowing I would never be alone again because you know everything that's broken on me and you love me anyway. I would be happy, really happy, for the first time since all this started."




Hope and Joy - Act 01 Scene 01



Author's note - IF you are looking for hard driving formalistic sex -- double D woman meets 10 inch man - push on because it ain't here. This is the introductory chapter of what could well be longer piece, depending on reader response. Yeah, I am putting it on you guys to decide whether I write more about Jessie's want of Hope and Joy and what they expect in turn.

Oh and ALL the actors in this play are of consensual age and are consenting participants. 

== First Meet ==

At 63 Jessie found himself residing in a three bedroom two story brick three times too big for his needs. The kids were gone, his career was done and Esther, his life long partner, had lost her mind to Alzheimer. Feeling lost and alone Jessie had settled into a life of apathetic anger and total disdain. His home, their home, had become a cave he rarely ventured from anymore. It was too damn painful explaining to other people his current state of affairs. 

A block or so away Hope, a saucy post teen, was laughing into her cell phone. "That's ridiculous, Joy, the idea of me seducing anyone, especially an older guy, is crazy."

"You want to get laid, don't you," the phone chirped back. "We're nineteen, babe, and still virgins. I think it is time we rectified this error." Joy, the voice on the other end, was Hope's best friend and physical opposite. Where Hope was short and boyish looking, Joy was tall and curvy. Where Hope had long black hair reaching to her waist, Joy had short kinky hair tightly bound in Jheri curls. Where Hope buried her nose in novels, Joy always had a basketball bouncing. They were as opposite as night and day and yet the best of friends.

"You know I do," Hope signed loudly. 

"And we agreed to go with the cards. RIGHT?" 

Hope pulled the phone away from her ear with that loudly spoken affirmation. "You agreed to go with the cards, babe," she answered in a softer tone, "I still think this Tarot card stuff is nonsense."

"Forget the cards then," the phone voice groused, "just keep to our pact - the two of us forever friends." Joy paused only long enough to take a breathe before rushing on. "This is your best friend talking and we agreed to get laid this summer or else. And not by some pimply faced high school jock. And me, I think the cards are right on the money. So there!"

Sitting down at his computer, Jessie logged onto the college network purely out of habit. He had been a teaching fellow at State almost since the day he got his PHD and by all rights he should have been a full professor, but the cards never seem to fall his way. He just kept telling himself he was a good teacher and that his making a difference was enough, even if all he did was teach nursing track science classes and mentor labs. Someone had to prepare future nurses of the world. Realizing there was no mail, he logged off again and sighed. How quick they forget.

The next house down on Hope's side was a two story brick crowding the front walk. It reminded her of her aunt Sophy's brown house down Boston way. She and Harry almost ended up in Boston after mom passed on. Staying on with Joy and her mother had been a god send for her and Harry. Hope could not imagine sharing Sophy's one room walk up.

Bouncing up the three front steps of the brick house Hope pushed a finger to the bell and smiled thinly at the sound of chimes ringing a Beethoven four beat. "Cute," she thought aloud. The last da dah ended with the blurred motion of a body approaching the stain glass door. Door chimes, stain glass, there might well be some money here. She might well get an honest donation out of this. The door swung inward to exposed a gray going white older man. He looked like something out of an Edwardian novel -- tall and slender and well dressed. A sucker for English novels, Hope thought the man handsome, sexy even.

Jessie blinked at the flood of sunlight hitting his unready eyes. For him the bell ringer looked to be little more than a back lit shadow standing his front porch. "Hi there," the shadow announced, "my name is Hope and I am helping my brother collect money for his school band. It you don't have cash, we will happily accept bottle and can returns."

"Cans or bottles, huh? I think I can do that. Why don't you step inside? Better you should bring your bag to my cans than my cans to you."

It took Hope a few seconds to unwind his convoluted wording. Having done so she signaled her brother a 'be right back wave.' But would she, she wondered. Joy's tarot cards had a surprising high success rate telling people's fortunes. According to Joy's reading an older man, the hermit, would invite her in and once in show her the path to supernatural satisfaction.

"Supernatural," Hope asked doubtfully of her friend. "you mean like ghosts and goblins?"

"An orgasm, you dummy," Joy snorted. "Supernatural satisfaction are orgasms. The two of you are going to have mind blowing sex."

"Humph," Hope responded, still the disbeliever.

"Please ignore the clutter," Jessie mumbled nervously, "I am not much on housekeeping." It had been weeks since he'd last had a visitor and months since he last ventured out to visit others. Explaining the absence of his wife was too hurtful, too much to bear.

"Do you need a housekeeper," Hope asked. What with the economy in a tailspin she had come to realize work was work. And this, well, this could well be the part time job she needed to fill in the scholarship gaps. The furniture, early American something or other, suggested old money to her, someone used to having servants around. What was missing was the bustling wife who managed it all.

Jessie found himself idly rubbing his left arm. Some forty years back in Saigon town he got his first ever tattoo and his first ever fuck. It was one hell of a way for a then soldier to celebrate his birthday. Huong was her name, twenty five going on a hundred, she had been banging soldiers for near unto four years. When it came to US dollars there was little she wasn't willing to do or try for her 'lover man'. With sweat dripping down their bodies, he pumped Huong again and again, from the front and from the back they tried out every imaginable position. In between they conversed in her broken English, shared white rice and lingered in her claw foot tub.

"Fucking hell," Jessie muttered under his breath. The resemblance between this girl and Huong was uncanty. "Could be," Jessie finally answered her, "maybe I should hire a housekeeper.

A 'fricken hell' almost escaped Hope's moist lips. She always licked her lips when she was nervous. Damned if she wasn't considering the possibility of letting this guy be the first to slide between her legs and fill her with his cum. She considered Shakespear's 'Kiss me, you fool', or simply stripping down in his bathroom. Hope took a deep breath and mentally slapped herself. Just because he looks and sounds like something out of English romance novel was no reason to loose her cool. Or was it? Was there any real harm in feeding a fantasy? The answer was a resounding no, you should do it.

Jessie led the girl from the front room through the dining room to the kitchen. He frowned at the three day's dishes resting in the sink and sighed. It appeared he did need help. Even the simple things like loading the dish washer defied him. For thirty years Esther did all this and more and watching Alzheimer slowly take her mind was a horror. 

"Are you looking for work," Jessie asked more directly.

"Depends ...." Hope answered thinking fast, "It depends on the hours. I spend most mornings and a few afternoons at the community college. I could probably get here in time to cook you dinner and clean up afterward."

"How about laundry and the other stuff?" 

Hope again wet her lips. "You know what? I have this sexy hot friend. I bet between the two of us we could meet all your needs and then some."

Jessie felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He'd been propositioned a time or two by young ladies looking to up their grades and he always told them NO! Jessie wanted nothing more than to push this Houng look alike up against the wall and begin slowly peeling off her clothes. Only his long established self control kept him from crying out his need of a companion to share his days and a lover to share his bed. As things stood the quiet of this old house would soon drive him crazy.

It had been 40 long years since he last felt this way and it was Huong, the sexy young street walker,who pulled him out of that funk. For the next three months Jessie had spent every R&R break more than three days long at Huong's place making love to her long into the night. For him it was more than just an escape from the war, for he had fallen head over heels in love with the girl. He wanted to bring her back to the states with him when he finished his tour. Between sex visits it was memories of Huong that kept him sane even as insanity of war rolled past him. 

Then it happened. Rushing back from the front he arrived at Huong's place to find she had replaced him with a second luey. Pulling loose a grenade he threatened to frag the two of them, and would of but for his fellow soldiers wrestling him to the ground. Ten days later they rushed him homeward when a mine ripped off the bottom half of his left leg.

"Okay then," Jessie pronounced, breaking free of his dream state. "bring your friend around and we'll see what happens."

Hope, both bewildered and wanting, staggered to the front door and hurried after her brother. The hell of it was she had gotten neither his name nor the cans he promised. Joy was going to laugh her ass off. Of course there was the invite to return. Hope again licked her lips in nervous anticipation. She was already considering what to wear and not wear. Black lace, what guy did not like lace undies on a girl?



Hope and Joy - Act 01 Scene 02



Author's note -- To Hopeless Romantic, I loved your note and your ideas -- And yes I think I can work your ideas in as a crisis further down the road. If you are not an editor, you should consider becoming one. Continuity Checkers are hard to find and given my writing is come back theory for a stroke jumbled mind, I could use someone of your ilk. Thanks.

Oh and ALL the actors in this play are of consensual age and consenting to the events herein described.

RECAP: Feeling lost and alone, Jessie finds himself staring into the face of a Vietnamese American who is the splitting image of a Saigon street walker who introduced him to the joys of sex. Coincidentally Hope, his look alike visitor, is looking to get laid, but neither he nor she knows how to make the first move. Scene 2 opens up with Joy, Hope's best buddy reviewing the situation. 

== bff's forever ==

Joy looked over the sprawl of books littering her bed. She could do better things atop a bed than organize her school work, but as yet a guy man enough to do it was wanting. Picking up her Tarot cards she idly shuffled them. She considered laying out a spread, but knew it was bad form to read your own future. She knew the shuffling was a nervous habit, but it kept her from lighting up a cool one. A cig, a doobie, a shot glass, no diff -- something tangible to cool her racing mind. She hated it all and herself for it. Needy people were weak. "Fuck," she snarled at the textbooks. Why were women forever destined to hold lesser positions under men. It taken everything her mom had to work up to floor nurse. "Fuck!"

She looked to the other bed and wondered how Hope and Harry were progressing. Can collecting of all things. What with the crashed economy the CEOs were using the opportunity to ask more and pay less of their employees. And the banks, well they were too frightened to lend out money. At the top millionaires were now billionaires and the young were out begging for ten cent cans. Ten years of schooling and twenty years of nursing her mother was about to take her second pay cut. Joy knew it was bad because she heard the crying through the walls. She also knew of the handouts her mother took from the men who shared her bed.

She shuffled the cards again before fanning them face up. There they were - the Magician and the Hermit. Joy wanted to believe this man was out there because he would help her best friend escape this trap. He had to be out there, the cards said so and the cards never lied.

There was of course the big lie, just as Mom used her body to entice handouts from her men, Joy would use her body to enslave this man for Hope. But what was there to ensure Joy's future once she completed this task the cards would not say. "Fuck!, she repeated.

Two garage bags full of cans, who'd of guessed it. Not Harry and certainly not Hope. The driver allowed them and the bags on the bus only after Hope laid their storied lie about a School Band. "Okay," the driver gruffly answered.

Once seated Hope went back to thinking about the old guy in the red brick house. Was she really thinking to return? What if she misread him? What if all he really wanted was a housekeeper, not a bed bunny? And what if he was too old to get it up -- what then? Those and a hundred other questions were plaguing her mind. 

But for they were sitting on a crowded bus, Hope would have plunged a hand in deep between her thighs for five finger relief. Checking the time once more she calculated it would be another twenty before Joy left the lecture hall and twenty more before the two could talk. Patience, Hope counseled herself.

Back at the brick house Jessie was pacing the floor and quietly cursing. He couldn't believe he didn't get her name or number, or schedule a time for their next meet. "What an idiot you are," he grumphed. "You let her get away." Jessie paced faster as the self doubts continued piling up. 'What do you know about love,' he asked himself, 'or young girls? .... Nothing, you're an idiot.' With that he sagged tiredly into his reading chair, closed his eyes and passed out.

"Don't wait up, Mom," Joy called out to her mother. She and Hope had spent a solid hour talking it out. They decided it was now or never. "We've got to close the deal while the deal's still hot," Joy explained. "And you my dear are hot to trot. I can see it in your eyes."

"Where to," her mother called back.

"Dancing," Joy lied. "Not to worry, I'm taking Hope along. Safety in numbers and all that."

"Well give me a holler if you're delayed and be good."

"Always mom," Joy shivered. From what she heard through the apartment walls made it obvious her mother was marvelous lover. A sexual novice, Joy was banking on her body to pull her through. What man wouldn't want a babe like her in his bed.

Two blocks down, eight to go, Joy pulled a doobie loose from her low cut bra. "This should get us in the mood." Digging out a lighter she sheltered the doobie from the wind, flicked her Bic and took a toke, then two more before passing it on. Hope in turn took two tokes and passed it back. The next thing they knew they were standing before the infamous red brick house. 

"Looks awful dark," Hope whispered. "What if he called it a night." 

"Works for me," Joy giggled. "Let's join him."

"How stoned are you?" 

"A lot," Joy giggled again. Always the lightweight, Hope let Joy solo the last third of the joint.

"Ta, ta, da Dah." Jessie eyes flicked open at the unexpected sound of door chimes. The second ring brought him to his feet and the third stumbling toward the door.

"Can I help you," he asked of the dark girl standing on his porch. Even half asleep Jessie could tell this ebony hued female was a looker. The question being, was she a hooker. Every now and then guys would strand the girls after they were done. Dumbing them off instead of paying them off. They'd knock, asking where they were and if they could use the phone. Now and then Jessie had used them, setting them on their way come the dawn.

"It's me," Hope announced, pushing past her stoned out friend. I brought Joy with me, as we discussed."

Jessie smiled warmly. This wasn't want he expected. The girl arriving after dark with an ebony beauty in tow. "Come in," he said, buzzing open the security screen.

"Can I get you something," Jessie asked once the three of them were settled.

"Tequila," Joy blurted out. 

"A rum and coke would be nice," Hope added.

"Are you legal," Jessie asked, still thinking like a teacher.

"Sure thing, honey," Joy gave him a toothy smile only a black could pull off. 

Hope's smile was more forced. MJ and Tequilla, Joy was going to eat this guy alive.

"So are you both attending the college," Jessie asked, making small talk.

"Yes," Hope jumped in. "We're filling our electives on the cheap. What we really want is the RN program up at State."

"I used to teach there," Jessie muttered loading the drinks atop a tray.

Joy took hers down in one quick gulp while Hope sipped hers more sedately. Getting up, Joy strolled over to the wet bar, refilled her glass and likewise downed it. Fucking hell, Jessie groaned at the sight of her long strong legs. He had an admitted weak spot for long legged ladies. Jessie guessed Joy to be six foot tall. Her heels put her half a head taller than him.

"Do you have boyfriends," he asked, not sure what to ask. With the hookers the only question needed was, How much for how long? 

"Just dating, what with school work and all," Hope answered.

"Are you straight," Jessie blurted out, instantly regretting his lack of tact.

"As an arrow," Joy smiled. "How about you," she asked in turn, "do you like girls -- young girls?" 

Game on, Jessie thought. "I liked them well enough when I was young. Kind of fell out the habit when I got married."

"Fuck this shit," Joy snorted strolling forcefully back across the room. "We are three consenting adults and at least two of us are thinking to get laid. How about you, mister Jessie, are you thinking to get laid?" 

Hope was flabbergasted, "What happened to the soft seduction," she asked her friend. 

"No need, honey, mister Jessie is seriously fixated on you. He's not into big breasted babes? You can see it in his eyes." Hope continued staring at her friend. "Mister Jessie, would you like to take Hope out for test ride? Say twice around the bed and once through the shower? She may be small, but she corners well."

Elbow on his knee, he cupped his chin in the raised -- a variation on the Thinker statue. When he finally spoke it was Joy he addressed. "You know, you really are a piece of work. You've got a gorgeous body and wicked tongue -- both of which I find appealing. But you're right, it is your friend I want to fuck." Standing up he walked over to Hope's side. "Hope, I am glad you came back because I want to make love to you every day and every night for the next hundred years."



Hope and Joy - Act 01 Scene 03



Author's note - "Veni, Vidi, Vici" verses "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck". What you see here is two short stories -- 3 words each. The first story - "Germany Laid Bare" - appeals to the mind, the second - "Caesar Crosses the Tigress" - appeals to the gut. I had thought to write a character driven sex tale that appeals to the thinking reader. Well it didn't fly, so I will publish these last two scenes of Act 01 and set the half written Act 02 action scenes aside. Me, I will go back to my science fiction novel that I temporarily set aside when the idea of Hope and Joy came to me. Good luck to all of you.

Please note -- All the actors in this play are of consensual age and are consenting participants. 

== A Meeting of Minds ==

RECAP: In Scene 1 we met Jessie, an older man, and Hope, a young pixie, and learn of their mutual want of sex. Scene 2 introduced Joy who turns out to be brasher and bolder than her friend Hope and is also a bit manipulative. Scene 3 returns us to Jessie's house where a deal is struck and the decision made to have sex.

For thirty odd years Jessie had watched girl-women much like these two pass through his life, all the while holding tight to the academic en loco parentis creed. For thirty odd years he had stayed true to himself, to his wife and to his job. Standing here now with temptation at his fingertips he asked himself, could he really set those thirty years aside as easily as the university set him aside. Damn straight, he answered. He deserved a break.

Hope stared sullenly at the floor. She was embarrassed for both herself and her friend. Good girls don't show up in slinky party dresses begging for sex. Where's the love and romance in that? The hell of it was she wanted this to happen. With his statement of eternal love she wanted it all the more. 'You're a stupid girl and a hopeless romantic,' she chided herself. 'Stupider yet because you knew all along you were going to spread your legs.'

Across the room Joy smiled thinly at the quiet drama playing out between Hope and Jessie. She had brashly brought them to the edge and knew any more words from her would most likely queer the deal. The air was electric with sexual excitement, both hers and theirs, for in truth there was a good ten seconds when Joy considering claiming Jessie for herself. Bright guys were hard to find and she was weary of hiding her mind behind this bimbo act. Okay so he wasn't Hollywood handsome, nor a B-Ball hall of famer, but there was this an inner strength in him she found appealing. It was the kind of strength she'd seen in her mother's boyfriends. You had to be strong to deal with mom. Leaning back against the wall Joy tried willing one of the two to act. 

Reaching out Jessie laid a soft hand on Hope's shoulder, but was taken aback by the tear running down her cheek. "It's okay, sweetie," he said softly, "we don't have to do this."

A soft moan escaped Hope's lips, "But I want to," she sniffled. "I want you to make love to me, and me to you, but it's just ..." The tears had seeped into her words. "I never did this before and I am afraid I will mess things up."

'Damn,' Jessie cursed. He really hadn't thought this through. Both Huong and Esther, his two lost loves, had known their way around the bedroom. If anything they showed him the hows and whys of making love. 'You can do this,' he told himself. 'If you can teach Bio 202 to a pack of giggling nurses, you can certainly teach this girl about sex.'

"Do you trust me," he asked her. 

"Yes," Hope answered in a strong, but trembling tone. 

"Okay then, the first right hand door at the stair top is the bath, the second is my bedroom. The opposing rooms are currently empty. I will be in my room waiting for you. Take your time."

Jessie watched the two girls grab their bags and hustle away. All asses and legs they bounced energetically up the stairwell and left him sighing. Was he ever that eager. The next question being did he also want to do Hope's friend, the long legged Joy? He imagined her legs wrapped to his butt and smiled his affirmation.

The bath looked to be a recent remodel, a medium sized bedroom converted to address the needs of a disabled person. The room had all the bells and whistles -- a highboy john with handrails, a Jacuzzi tub big enough for three, a zero clearance shower stall with handrails all around and enough floor space for an electric wheelchair to do a jig.

"Damn," Joy muttered," do you suppose he did all this for his wife?" 

"Seems logical," Hope answered, digging thru her bag. "If that's the linen closet, find me a towel. A pre-sex shower seems like an appropriate first step. Do you think I should douche?"

"God NO!" Joy snapped back. "No guy wants to chew on a pussy tasting of a disinfectant wash."

Hope gagged on her toothpaste. "Good god, do you think he will want to eat me?"

"You betcha, babe,"Joy laughed. "Oh my," she added a minute later, extracting a cardboard box from the linen closet,. "Bio 202 is chock full of birth control stuff. There is even a few sex toys." Joy started chuckling, "I think this vibrator fits over the guy's dick. Damn, no batteries." 

"He was a professor type at State. Those were probably teaching aides."

"Do suppose he gave private lessons," Joy answered, laughing all the harder.

"Shush, he'll hear us," Hope fired back.

"Oh my," Joy laughed again, equally loud. "YKK butt fuck gel. You my dear are in for the ride of your life."

"No you are," Hope laughed back. "You've got the bigger butt."

"All part of the package, honey. Big breasts for sucking, Big ass for fucking and a big mouth to wrap around a guy's dick. I'm a walking, talking, sex machine." 

"Hand me that soap," Hope instructed, stepping into the shower.

Watching Hope lather up and wash down, Joy felt the uncomfortable tinges of jungle fever sweeping across her body. Her groin tingled, her tits hardened and she was almost panting for breath as she fought back the desire to to cup her friend's perky breasts, stroke her boyish hips and finger her near bare pussy. Joy loved everything about Hope and more.

"Fuck this shit," Joy grunted, "I'm no homo! I'm my mother's daughter." Then again she was an untested hetro. She didn't just want this guy Jessie between her legs, she needed to know if a guy could get her ticker going the way Hope did.

Joy sagged tiredly atop the john stool as Hope draped her long hair strategically down her front side before strolling naked out the door. That's my girl, Joy grinned. Picking up Hope's discarded party dress, she neatly folded it and laid it atop the vanity. She then did the same for Hope's lacy undies and her thigh high socks. The shoes she set on the floor facing the clothes. She had been doing for Hope almost forever, well back to second grade anyway.

Not a bookworm like Hope, Joy strolled down the stairs to fully explore the house and all its treasures. She didn't see a TV, but there was a computer and there's where guys keep their porn. She was wondering what kind of girlie pictures turned him on. Vietnamese babes, she would guess. Vietnamese babes getting banged by Vietnam guys. Along the way she checked her pepper spray and cell phone. At the first sign of trouble she was going to be double quick up the stairs with her spray in hand and cell phone dialing. No one was going to abuse her best friend.



Hope & Other Four Letter Words



Michael was strolling home from the bar. His eyes were glazed, his mouth was dry and pasty, and feet moved like lead in the ocean. Down the familiar sidewalk between the neighborhood watering hole and the hole in the wall he called home, he walked. His hair seemed to be graying, his wrinkles appeared deeper and he wore a constant expression of bitterness.

"Thirty is too young to look forty," Anna had said, just before last call. He knew she was just trying to cheer him up in her own backwards pessimistic sort of way, but her words kept playing over in his head like a bad scratch on vinyl.

He had clenched in his dirty hand a ticket from when they toed his van away earlier that day.

"That's what I get," he mumbled looking at the wadded up piece of paper, "for hoping." Then he looked up and saw her sitting on steps to his apartment building, like she did almost a month ago. He shook his head; "No, it couldn't be."

Angel turned her head towards him; her mascara was running, her cheeks were wet, and her hair was a mess. She had taken out the metal stud from her bottom lip and the bullring from her nose. Her bright red dyed hair was slowly giving way to her light brown roots. She wordlessly walked towards him and placed her head upon his chest.

"Uh, hi... Mercy?" stammered Michael.

"My name is Angel," she murmured.

"You look like shit, babe."

"Fuck you," she responded, whispering. "You smell like booze - I though you were going to quit or at least slow down."

"Yeah, I did say that, didn't I? It has been a bitch of a day, but I think it could finally be worth it," he said stroking her hair.

"It isn't over yet," Angel countered. "Please feed me."

She picked her head up and looked into Michael's dull gray eyes. She then began walking towards the door to his apartment building, looking back briefly to assure herself that he was following.

His apartment was just as she remembered it, a patchwork of unseemly pieces thrown together to form a quilt of unimaginable repulsiveness. He has a white stylish ceramic lamp paired up with this cracked and tacky glowing globe of light, each sitting one a different sized and shaped end table. The loveseat was a torn and tattered light blue leather material that clashed perfectly against light brown carpeting. The Sofa, on the other hand, was clearly refurbished with a brown corduroy material. This was his living room; the rest of his apartment was equally mismatched.

He walked straight towards his smallish kitchen and she followed, seating herself behind the counter, which wrapped halfway around the kitchen area. She glanced around, noticing that he had cleaned up a bit since her last visit. "So," he said, "what would you like?"

"Um, two eggs, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast would be fine," she quietly answered.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want some cereal too? I've got sausage and, and bagels, and I can make you more if you'd like," he stammered.

"No," she chided, "the last time you made me that much shit, I couldn't finish it all, remember?" She then sighed, "I felt bad... I mean, you cook really good."

"Really?"

Something struck her as cute; it was like a gangly five year old had replaced the thirty-something pot-bellied man who stood before her now. She almost wanted to hug him. "Really," she assured him.

"Two eggs, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast." Michael repeated, as he reached into his clunky old refrigerator. He turned around to see her gazing down at the table, frowning as if she was looking into the eyes of a dying squirrel. "Are... are you all right?"

"Does it fucking look like I'm all right?" she growled. She smiled bitterly and mumbled, "Those were the first words I said to you."

"Yeah, I know," Michael said, smiling fondly. "I've got something I've been wanting to tell you for three weeks; three weeks I've fucking thought about what I'd say to you when I saw you again. Well, here you are, and, well..."

"What?" she spat.

"I've read you letter, I mean, I know what you wrote and I feel, I wanted you to, I just wish you would have stayed 'cause I really do feel the same way you, well... Fuck it; I just want you to stay this time, okay?"

"No you don't." Angel muttered.

"Huh?"

"I said..." Angel started to respond.

Michael interrupted, saying, "Why do you say that? I want you to stay."

"I just, I... I didn't come back here because I love you or any shit like, I mean, maybe I did, but there's another reason and you aren't going to like me, hell you probably used me anyway..."

"No... I didn't use you. I meant what I said." Michael responded firmly, like the father she had always wished for in her head.

"... but, I have..." she continued to stammer.

"Listen, whatever it is, I don't care; I'll take care of it. I want you to stay. That night was the first night in a very long time that I fucking felt like a man. I don't even care if we never have sex again, I just want you here. Hell, I had my van toed away while I was checking the shelters for you; I had to walk home. I've been checking the homeless shelters ever since you left. I've been alone for too fucking long to let you go. Whatever it is..."

"You don't know what it is yet!" Angel spat as tears started building up in her eyes. "Jesus, you don't even know what it is yet and you are already pledging shit and promising shit! You're not real!"

"What is it then? Are you pregnant?" he asked.

"Pft. No."

"You lied about your age?"

"No, I'm twenty-three. Do you want me to tell you?" she asked.

"He didn't do something to you again, did he?" Michael gasped.

"NO!" she yelled, "No, no, no, you fucking stupid ape! I have AIDS!" Tears were now streaming down her face paper streams a sick ticker-tape parade. Her voice crackled out, "I fucking hate you. I hate what you make me feel. Why did you make me feel again? I just wanted to kill myself and now someone has finally made me feel like I'm fucking worth something, and I've killed him. I FUCKING KILLED YOU; don't you understand that? I love you and now you hate me. Fuck, I'm just going to jump off a building somewhere."

She turned to leave and felt a firm, yet assuring, hand land on her shoulder. His arms quickly enveloped her body as he buried his head into her shoulder, scratching her face with his whiskers. She felt tears trickle down her neck as he mumbled, "I don't care; just stay with me."

Author's Note: Votes and Feedback are my creative life-blood. Please keep my juices flowing.