0 comments/ 12378 views/ 1 favorites The Sir By: Caramelsub He waited patiently as the clerk walked from the inventory closet of the quaint little bookstore. She was retrieving a Special Edition of Albert Camus’ French version of The Stranger. She thought to herself that he must be a professor or a student to want the actual French text of the popular novel. She walked gracefully back to the front of the store. Facing him, her hips swayed and he instantly became engrossed in her movement. How lovely, he thought. Her head seemed to be raised high, but innocently her eyes lowered toward the floor as she walked behind the cash register. It was only the second time he had been to the shop and didn't remember who had waited on him before. "That will be 32.98 sir," She faintly cooed from her sweet full mouth. He was captivated. The strong, handsome, dominant prince was taken by this seemingly demure, yet heavenly body before him. As he began his gaze into her sweet almond shaped brown eyes, something in her began to stir. She was embarrassed by this sudden flush. She was thankful that her caramel brown skin prevented her cheeks from turning the evident red: the obvious color of blushing. He was unleashing his all too familiar wrath upon this girl. Yet this captivation was unlike any other before. Never had he had in his possession a black submissive female. The idea of her dark skin contrasted against his white manhood made him spin. To his delight and amazement, his member began to swell with furor. He handed the sweet wench his credit card. "Here you are dear." As he handed her the card he felt the soft touch of her hand. He gently held it and placed the card in the center of her palm. She was awe struck. "Thank you sir." she replied and submitted his transaction. Her heart was racing and she was happy to know that he was her last customer for the evening. The tall handsome Sir was doing something she could not quite comprehend. It was a terror. In her mind she often envisioned her desires coming to play, but was not sure what it was all about. A friend had given her a book called “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty”. A title her shop hadn't carried. Being the avid fan of childhood fairytales, she was excited to read the tale. Little did she know that it would stir such feelings inside of her. Little did she know it would awaken her needs. Her calling to submit. As the transaction processed, sir decided that he was to have this sweet nymph. He was anxious to understand how this girl could evoke such intense chemistry and they hadn't spoken more than a few words to one another. Sir decided that he would embark on his quest. "I am relatively new to the area and am looking for a great place to dine. Might you know of a quiet and peaceful place nearby?", asked The Sir. "Well Sir," she sweetly replied, "there is a wonderful place around the corner near 8th Avenue that has a specialty dish every evening. The atmosphere is serene and pleasant. It's called 'The Faint Whisper' I don't live far from there and I frequent it often. I'm sure a man such as yourself would find it rather enjoyable." With that she smiled and handed him his slip to sign. As he did he looked deeply and rather sternly into her eyes and spoke," Wonderful, I would like for you to join me...Sarah" She looked astonished as he spoke her name and wondered how he knew it. He smiled in the direction of her breasts and realized that it was her nametag. She was taken so strongly by this gentleman. Not entirely shy, but indeed bashful, she found herself agreeing politely to the captivating Sir. "Oh thank you sweet one." and she gasped. Not realizing that she even had those words as part of her vocabulary, she closed her eyes shut in utter embarrassment. The Sir was smiling wickedly as he knew he just opened the doors to what would be a most welcoming experience. "It's ok dear girl," he said as he gently patted her hand, "just be there promptly at 9 pm in a black dress." The Sir gathered his newly acquired belongings and left. Sarah was baffled, awestruck and humbled all in one moment. She immediately closed the shop after The Sir's departure. She couldn't believe what she had just agreed to. Here she stood, amazed that she accepted The Sir’s invitation to dinner. She had not known him. He was only in the bookstore once prior and she hadn't laid eyes on him before. She was excited to know that this strong and intelligent prince chose her for company. She wondered what he saw in her. Her mind raced with many ideas of what would come of the evening. As she hurried home to bathe and change, she wondered what she would wear. The perfect dress came into mind. * * * * * As she stepped through the door, Leonard greeted the sweet Sarah with wonderment about his face. "Miss Sarah", he quipped as he hugged the frequent patron. "I've never seen you so beautiful. May I take your coat?' "Oh Leonard," she responded so demurely, "thank you. I'm joining someone here, has a gentleman arrived?" "Indeed, indeed!," he anxiously replied, " right this way." As Leonard guided the lovely girl through the dining area, The Sir looked coyly and contentedly as his princess was brought to his table. Could he have pictured a lovelier sight? Perhaps not as his eyes danced up and down the girl’s full body. She was impeccable. Her hair swept up into a bun with soft bangs framing her sweet face. Her eyes gleamed as they dazzled in the light of the candles of the tables about the room. They possessed an inviting sensuality to them that longed for the guidance of a strong sir. She was calling out to her Master. Her makeup was subtle but it brought out all the magnificent features of her submissive self. Yet this was just a taste of eye candy that would be the source of Sir's pleasure. As Sarah walked closer, Sir could now see the rather large and rounded bosom that lie beneath the v-neck of her black dress. How delicious she looked as the fleshy caramel skin appeared so subtly to tease her Sir. They bounced wickedly under the strain of her black bra. As his eyes lowered, he caught once again her swaying hips and paused at her middle which was not flat. It was full and offered a place for his impending torture he could do to this creature's large body. The Sir secretly salivated. Lower his eyes went and took in the round soft appearance of her thighs. Her dress was quite long and it tightened as it went toward her ankles. She walked gracefully and elegantly to the table. The Sir stood to greet her. He gently took careful but guided hold of her right hand and gave it a soft gentle kiss. She sat down facing her sweet prince and he stared at his delectable creature with wonder. As she put her purse to the side of her she felt under the table one of Sir's strong hands grab her thigh. She looked at him obediently as he spoke. "You my dear are quite beautiful. I'm not sure what to do with all of your loveliness." "Well dear Sir," she sweetly purred, "You can do whatever you deem necessary for this untaken wench" The Sir was overwhelmingly delighted in her response. How natural the words rolled off of her tongue. But she seemed so innocent, so unknowing. Had he been wrong in his assessment? He couldn't have been. He proceeded further. The Sir asked matter of factly, "Now tell me Sarah, are you a novice?" Sarah held her head low and let out a sigh. "Yes sir," she replied," I am terribly unloved and have never served. I only know that this is something that is an innate part of me. It is not a put on. It comes from within. Am I worthy of such attention sir?" The Sir grinned and stirred the ice in his beverage with his finger. He pulled it out and carefully placed it in-between the lips of the vixen. Sarah greedily suckled on The Sir's finger. Her tongue wet and sticky from her own forming saliva mixed in with tart flavor of The Sir's beverage. Her response was natural and complete. She wasn't sure what it was in his glass, but it mattered none. The Sir's finger made it all the sweeter. Inside of her inner being, feelings of passion, wholeness, servitude and wanton desire swelled. She was dizzy with the idea of needing to submit. Her loins grew weak. Her womanhood wet with lust. She was at the helm. The Sir took advantage of this. He pulled his finger out of her mouth and stared deep into her eyes. He said nothing. Her mouth was pouty and childlike. She had a look of utter fear about her face. She wondered if she appeared too eager. Was her manner unacceptable? She did not know. Her passionate instincts knew no barriers and she responded to The Sir's first task without thought. The Sir continued his probe. "You my dear," spoke The Sir, "will make a fine pet." Sarah humbly smiled at The Sir and waited for her next instruction. The Sire and the Wench The basement is sweltering from the barrels of boiling water and lye. I agitate the clothes with the heavy wooden paddle, and a tear rolls down my check as I remember better days gone by. Since my husband's death, returning to work is not a choice; I must in order to survive. The Sire's home is the prized property in all the land. I should be grateful to work here, but I can't help feeling sad and sorry for my misfortune. The Madame of the household is an aristocrat by birth. She is very stern, mean, and very, very wealthy. The master of the house, an artist and a tooler, has taken to living in his workshop. I too, would do likewise, Madame is a shrew. I must concentrate again on my work and not let my mind wonder on the love missing in my life since I've been left alone. Too hot in this room, I remove my clothes, knowing Madame is out for the next several hours. The freedom comforts me and I relish the sensation of standing in total nakedness. I giggle. For what a sight I must be. I didn't hear him, but felt his presence. Suddenly, I turn and he is standing there behind me, quietly looking at me. Frightened, I try to hide myself from his sight, and began to mumble an explanation. He nodded and motioned me to sssshh. I stood before him, noticing his eyes on my naked body, I drop my glance. "I am the Master of this house, no?" "Yes, sire." "Do I not pay you well for your work?" "Yes, Sire, very well" "Then, it is your nakedness I desire and you shall continue being well compensated for your services. Come. Follow me." I walk with him to his workshop which has been off limits to the entire household including the Madame of the house. I looked around while he lit many candles and could see much work in progress. My eyes suddenly focus on some unusual sculptured objects of various mediums. A carnal experienced woman knows such phallic imaged objects. Suddenly, heat and desire, coupled with guilt and shame simultaneously overtook my body. He stood before me removed my head wrap and tied my hands together at the wrists. He took my head in his hands and forced my glance to his. "You are my wench and if you please me, I will pay you handsomely. Do you understand?" Fear prevented words from leaving my mouth, so I nodded in acknowledgment... he raised my hands overhead attaching them to a beam above his workbench. I was afraid, and yet, I felt my body react in wanton desire. A tingling began between my legs continuing down the inside of my thighs. I watch him open a gold container and dip one of the phallic objects inside. "This is very special oil, imported from the Eastern islands. Its only purpose is pleasure. This you will enjoy, I promise you" He took the phallic and rubbed it between my legs. I moaned with pleasure. Back and forth, slowly and gently, greasing every inch of my slit. I began to moan with pleasure. "Quiet! You will not make any sound. You will endure your pleasure in silence unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sire. I understand." "Good. I have much I want to do to you." He stood close behind me and I could feel his large bulge as he pressed against my bottom. He began to wrap one ankle with a leather lace and then the other. He then spread my legs wide open and tied each ankle to the opposite wooden posts of his workbench. He took the phallic and dipped it again in the oil and this time he inserted it into me slowly, deeply. I was wet with desire as never before and released orgasmic cries upon feeling the phallic inside me. "That's my good little wench. You are easy to please and that pleases me. You are forgiven this one time for disobeying me. I am going to give you so much more before I am done. You shall give up your will to me, yes? "Yes, Sire, anything you ask of me. You find the untouched recesses of my body. Ne're my husband dare envision. It has been too long since a Man has touched me. I beg for your pleasure." He took another phallic, one of much greater girth, dipped it into the oil and plunged it into my already wet and waiting cunt stretching it open a bit more than I have ever felt. In and out, I wiggled with his rhythm, until I scream with delight. He allowed a quiet moment to pass and removed the object. He whispered in my ear. "I told you to cum quietly without a sound and you have disobeyed me, again! You will make payment by punishment for your insurrection. Do you understand wench? "Yes, sire. I understand that I must be punished by you. Please punish me as you see fit." I watched him remove a short flogger from above his workshop. He showed it to me and was made of very finely tanned, thin, soft strips of leather. I felt afraid and he saw this in my eyes. Do not be afraid. I am going to punish you, not torture you. I felt relieved and trusted him once again. He put a leather bit in my mouth and tightened it in order to muffle my screams, if needed. I closed my eyes, waiting in anticipation of the first sting of pain across my bottom, and was taken by surprise when I felt his hand between my oily cunt. He caressed my bottom and softly kissed each check. Then, taken by surprise I felt the first sting of the leather flog, warm, but not unpleasant. Then the flog to the other cheek, then again, the second sting on top the first. With each whip of the leather, heat and pain increased. I began to shake and my bottom felt on fire. He stopped. His hands began rubbing my bottom soothing the sting away, truly an exciting soothing balm. Again, he put his hand between my legs and his fingers in my cunt bringing me to orgasm again. Another silent moment, I saw him walk to his workbench, this time he was naked from the waist down. His cock larger than any phallic on his workbench and I anticipated feeling him inside me, for I knew he would spread my cunt wide open with his own cock. I watched him remove a very slender phallic and dip it into the oil. Suddenly I felt the sting of his hand slap my bottom, once, twice, (please, no more) three times! Now, I feel the slender phallic enter deep into by bum, simultaneously my cunt stretches open welcoming his cock as he penetrates me. Both holes are filled and I am on the edge of cumming again. His hand reached around and fingered my blossoming rosebud. I wiggle with excitement. He places his finger in my mouth, "Smell your scent and suck your juice from my fingers, my pretty wench." I did as I was told. He holds me by the hips and thrusts deeply, desiring his pleasure, only. He pounds his cock into my sore cunt until we both cum. He untied the binds, dressed me in a change of clothes, kissed my mouth and slipped a slender key into the palm of my hand. "You now have permission to enter here anytime you please. And when I please, you shall make yourself available. Do we have an agreement?" "Yes, Sire. I anticipate your company, and obeying your demands. To please you is my desire." "Good. There is more I wish for us to endeavor and enjoy." To be continued The Siren Alone finally. The only sounds that grace my ears are the gentle winds of the west blowing down the hills, and through the large pines that guard the cabin from the evening sun. The commercial world is non-existent out here. No TV, no billboards, no skyscrapers, no cars; only one small power line for electricity, and my dependable pickup to get me to the nearest hamlet for supplies. I don't live up here all the time, but when work, and life overwhelm me, I come to this small piece of Eden. Here I have my "old" library, hundreds of first and second editions spanning several hundred years. A living room surrounded by windows, open to the glory of the surrounding mountains; a haven. Someday, I'll retire here, but not yet. I'm a consultant for large corporations, dealing with mass production of chemicals, a job that takes me lots of places; but still give me a great deal of free time and leaves me with an excess of money. When I speak about retiring, I'll be ready at 35. Much of the time that I spend at the cabin is taken up by wandering about, exploring the wilderness that stretches for miles in every direction. The nearest house is several miles away, and I've never met them. In searching the mountains, I found a small river flowing from down of the higher peaks, into the valley on the west side of the land that I owned. I went as high as I could to see the beginning of the stream, but I couldn't get to it without some extra gear. I didn't want to get lost up there, without a chance of anyone finding me. I managed to get high enough to see that the river took a very strange course down the mountain. At the beginning of the lower hills, it went drastically to the east, and into a little valley, before it went back to the west. I've always been fascinated by rivers, almost eternal, always renewed, with a sweet song that never expired. Wherever I have lived in my life, it has been near a river. I'll sit for hours, meditating to the rushing sounds. This river was different; the sound was fuller, more robust, like a natural orchestra. I spent many days walking along the edge, almost in a trance, listening, and waiting. One day after wandering for several hours, I happened upon a small cabin. I had gotten to the eastern most bend in the river, for what I had seen from above. There was a small dirt road leading from the house that probably led to the main road several miles away. The first time I saw the house, I was on a small hill just above the rivers edge. I was looking down on the house, trying to discern if anyone was living there, but there was no smoke from the chimney, no music, and no vehicle in the driveway. I thought for a moment about walking up to the house and knocking on the door, but if that person was like me, they came up here to be away from civilization, and I didn't want to disturb whomever was living there. I made my way back to my cabin, wondering about my new neighbor, but in the end, I forgot about it, with returning to the grind in a few days. I didn't make it back to the cabin until six months later, when fall was beginning and the trees had set the hills afire with color. As soon as I got to the cabin, I began my walks along the river again. It wasn't a week before I found the house again. I hadn't even crossed my mind to look for the house, but I stumbled upon it in the same way it did the first time. I had been mulling over some philosophy I had just read, when I saw the smoke coming out of the chimney. There was something strange in the air, and it took me a moment to realize that it was a female voice. As I moved closer it became clearer, to clear to be a radio or television. It was obvious at this point that the tenant of the cabin was a woman, who happened to have a wonderful, strong, yet soothing voice. The song she sang was not familiar to me, in fact it was in a language that I didn't recognize. The melody however had frozen me in place, my hand resting against a birch tree, my feet half-buried in sticks and dead leaves. I closed my eyes and for several moments I didn't move, saturating myself with that voice, letting it pour over my like water. It was silence that startled me from my trance, rather than some other loud noise. The song was finished and an old pickup truck was kicking up dirt, moving away from the cabin down the driveway. The silence was short lived, because the melody came back to me, amplified by my memory and imagination, in a siren's song, beckoning me to the house. I vaguely was aware of the leaves falling around, and of the sun beginning to fall towards the horizon. Eventually my senses returned, and I quickly moved back towards my own cabin, hoping to avoid trying to find my way through the darkness. I though that if she had seen me, starting towards her cabin, she would have assumed that I was some strange mountain man, or worse. I also figured that she was out here for the same reason that I was, solitude. As much as I wanted to meet the woman and hear more of her voice, I didn't want to disturb the peace I'm sure she found out here. Despite all those things, I began to steer my daily walks towards that mysterious cabin, trying to catch even a moment of her singing. I was careful about not getting within eyesight of the cabin; instead, I would sit myself just beyond the ridge of the hill behind the cabin, and wait. It became a meditation spot, when silence reigned there. There must have been magic there, because when the wind blew, the trees seemed to have a song of their own. I would sit for hours, during the peak of the day, waiting, listening, drinking in life. It wasn't long before snow displaced the dead leaves on the ground, and the song of the trees changed to a gentle, more haunting melody. I still went out to that spot as much as I could, except on days when the snow came down heavily. Those days I just sat in my favorite chair, with a book, or my pen and pad, occasionally looking out the window towards the hill, watching my footsteps slowly disappear into the new snow. It was also on those days, when I couldn't get close to the cabin that I began to feel lonely. As much peace as this place brought, it also isolated me from the world. I only saw others when I went in to get supplies and that was very infrequent. I began to understand that when I went out to listen, I wasn't just hoping for a song, I was hoping that one time, she might be outside, gathering firewood, and would greet me, introduce herself, say her name with that sweet voice. More often I would risk standing at the top of the hill, staring at the house, my ear turn toward the source of the song, always different, in melody in language, in emotion. During the short days of the winter, slower, more melancholy songs seemed to predominate. The quieting blanket of snow made her songs even more haunting than they might have been, as all other sounds seemed to be drowned out. As the loneliness and the quiet solitude of winter began to wear on me, I looked for signs of another person at her cabin; a lover, husband, or child. There was never any sign of that, no other voice offering harmony, or even just a simple presence. The impulse was so great one day that I even walked very near to the cabin, within several feet, in order to get more concrete evidence of her solitude. Just as I had approached a window, the sound of a rumbling engine filled the air. Knowing it was her truck, I made my way straight up the hill, trying to stay out of sight of the truck and it's driver. As I fell back over to the other side of the hill, I hoped that she wouldn't find my footsteps in the snow. The snow had drifted at the sides of the cabin, and it would be some time before they would be filled or blown away. I had made a mistake; I had invaded her space, and left evidence of it. I wasn't just a ghost anymore, staying just beyond her vision. I felt the need at that point to make myself known, once and for all. I was still fearful of a face-to-face encounter, not knowing what I would do if I felt the voice on my face, the warmth, the sweetness of it. One day, when the snow was heavy enough to prevent me from seeing the trees surrounding my cabin, I sat down at my desk, with a steaming cup of coffee, and wrote. I had intended at first to write a short introduction of myself, to leave at her doorstep, just to say hello, and apologize for my intrusion. As the coffee disappeared, and the pen movements increased, the parts of myself that had surfaced during these last few months of vocal voyeurism found themselves on the paper. After a few hours, the introduction had become a story, pages long, and too much to give for the first introduction. After I had stepped away for food, I came back to the desk, with a single sheet of paper, and wrote the following: "To the siren in the wilderness, With your song, you have drawn me to a place where I have found new parts of myself, so positive, some negative. Without seeing your face, you have taught me to meditate, to look inside and strip away the useless layers around my self. I hope that someday I might hear wisdom and song from your voice, and see into your eyes at the same time. Sincerely, Jared The man over the hills" I took that single sheet of paper, folded it, placed it along with the story that I had written that day, in an envelope, and sealed it. It sat on my desk through the night, while I laid in bed, awake, my heart beating mercilessly. Sometime during the night, the snow abated, and the clouds parted to let the quarter moon show through. It seemed to be a sign to me, that perhaps the end to the mystery might be at hand, that I might be finding myself at the end my loneliness. The next day was crystal clear, the sun reflecting off the snow so strongly that I needed sunglasses when I went outside. The snow was deep, but not deep enough to prevent me from completing my errand. The envelope was tucked inside my heavy jacket, protected from the wet snow. It wasn't long before I found myself, staring down at the cabin. There was no smoke from the chimney, so I assumed she was away. Closer inspection of the area around the cabin showed no footprints around the woodpile, and no tire tracks leading away from the front of the cabin. She must have gone back into civilization before the storm hit. I looked for some safe place to put the letter, so it wouldn't be blow away, or disappear in to the snow. I went around to the front of the house, to the front door, and I was surprised to see an old copper mail box, hanging loosely to the outside of the cabin just to the left of the door. There was never mail service out this far, it wouldn't make sense. I had a post office box in the nearest town. I wiped of the snow from the top, and opened the door. It creaked, and it rattled, but inside it was dry, and I nervously placed the letter inside, hoping that she might check it when she returned. It was a risk, but the out of place mailbox was the best place to put it. For a few moments I stood there, staring at the mailbox, wondering if I should just take back the letter and never come that way again. After much debate, I slowly went around the house and made my way back up the hill. I turned back once to look at the snow-covered cabin, then I trudged back to my place. I sat for hours at my desk that day, staring at a blank sheet of paper, hoping that something might uncovered itself from in my mind, and find itself on the paper, but it was useless. I was thinking about the letter, wondering if she would ever find it, read it, what she would think. Over the next few weeks, I would occasionally walk over, hoping that there was some sign of her, but there were no tracks, the chimney was smokeless. Eventually I stopped going, and my hope for a response diminished as the snow melted. Perhaps I was foolish to think that she would think of me as anything other than just another person in the wilderness. And the story that I wrote, bear my soul on paper, it must have scared her off. A lonely man in the mountain looking for comfort from a woman he hadn't even met. Eventually I convinced myself that she had read the letter and just thrown it in the fireplace. The possibility that she had left permanently never entered my mind. I was rejected. I tried to put her out of my mind, and after some weeks, and much writing, I succeeded. I found new direction to walk in, ponds, creeks, gorges, perfect outlooks for watching the sunset. I wrote many new stories during the first weeks of spring, enough that I was considering trying to publish. I had some friends that had managed to get novels to print, and I hoped that could help me through the process. The last day in April I decided that my extended vacation was getting too long and that I needed to return to civilization. Once the grass had shown through, I flooded my cabin with music, all kinds, classical to reggae, hip-hop to Celtic. There was an unconscious need to fill the silence, and there were very few moments where I didn't have something playing. Despite hundreds of CD's, thousands of songs, I never found one that was truly soothing. Each had something to offer, but it was never enough. There were moments when I tried to bring back the siren's melody, but I found that I couldn't bring it back; the substance of it had disappeared. The last day of April, as I began my checklist for moving back to civilization, I put Edvard Grieg in my stereo, and turned the volume up. I went out to my truck to give it a quick maintenance check, and when I returned to the house, I found an envelope on the doorstep. I was surprised to see it, and for a moment, I couldn't think of where it may have come from. The envelope was a letter size manila, with no writing on the outside. I took it with me inside, and as I sat down at my desk, I realized that it was from the siren. With shaking hands I broke the seal, and were pages and pages, a story that she had apparently written, and a small note. The note read: "Dear Jared, It has been quite awhile since I've seen your footsteps around my place. I had wondered where my audience had gone. You might be surprised to know that I was aware of your presence. One day, I say you leaning against the tree, eyes closed. I wondered for many days why you didn't come closer, even introduce yourself, but eventually I knew that you were savoring the songs that I was singing. I also know that a person would only come out here for quiet solitude, and that you might now want to intrude on mine. When I received your letter, I wasn't sure how to respond at first, except to answer with a story about you, the man who came only to listen, from my perspective. I spent the winter months writing, hoping to match the depth that you have a gift for. I don't have the gift for language that you have, but perhaps that melodies that I sing will somehow find their way onto the pages that I've included with this note. After you've read it, I hope that you will find the courage to come listen again, and perhaps, after I've sung my last note, you might knock on my door. I'll wait until that day. Sincerely, Anna, the Siren" My heart was pounding mercilessly again, as it had during that sleepless night. I couldn't believe it. I ran to the window, foolishly thinking she might still be around. When I was sure she was gone, I took the story to my chair and devoured it, learning that she enjoyed having an audience, that after she had gone away she missed my presence and had fallen into loneliness, without song. As I read the words seemed to gather a melody that I had heard her sing in the beginning of the winter, haunting, melancholy, needing. I read the story again, a third time, trying to learn all the intonations, all the nuances. She reflected many of the ideas that were in the story that I had given her, but with a sweet and wise flavor that I loved. Despite the setting sun, I walked quickly, half aware of the direction I was taking, but just as the sun hit the trees, I was there, leaning against the tree, waiting. There was no smoke in the chimney, to tracks in snow this time to give any sign of a presence there, but I waited. Sweet notes began from nothing, so soft at first that I thought it my imagination. As the voice became stronger, in major tones, a smile came to my face, something absent for many weeks. There was no resisting the draw this time. I walked slowly towards the cabin, and I noticed that the windows were wide open. A form appeared at the side window, hidden at first by the curtains, but her head soon appeared. She was still singing, her lips moving slowly, as the words drifted into the air. I walked towards her at the window, hoping that she would invite me in, but she only smiled and moved away, back inside. I stood for a moment, confused and disappointed, but I resolved not to let this chance get away. I made my way around to the front of the cabin and approached the door. The song she was singing came to an end, and I remembered what she had said in the note. I knocked twice on the door, and it opened immediately; she had been waiting for me. The source of the song was finally in front of me, no barriers, no hesitation, up close. The words I wanted to say, I couldn't find. She smiled in understanding and took my hand. "I'm glad you came Jared, it's good to finally meet my audience. You don't have to sit atop the hill anymore." The Siren & The Hunter In the deepest recesses of the night she stalked her prey. He was the perfect mate that she had been searching for. His muscular legs stretched and strained against the soft leather caressing his flesh as he bent to examine the tracks she had purposely left for him only moments ago. His whole body was liquid, a perfect mixture of grace, agility and strength the force of which poured over her with each movement that it made, making her body ache despite the distance between them. Knowing neither of them would be able to rest until he had finished his hunt she carefully changed into her most provocative dress and circled in front of him until she was by the edge of the water. In the deepest recesses of the night he stalked his prey. He knew that this heavenly vision before him would be his salvation if only he could capture her. He had tasted her scent in the air days ago, but she had somehow continued to unknowingly elude him. It was as if she was part fey with her eyes of molten fire & her long golden hair flying free in defiance of the wind. Her feet barely whispered against the moss-covered ground leaving only an occasional foot print. Finally though his skills as a hunter had enabled him to corner her at the foot of the river. Hungrily he watched her, waiting for the perfect moment. His body tightened in anticipation as her foot touched the water, tentatively testing its temperature. Just seeing her delicate foot graze the water's surface set his blood boiling with the knowledge of what she was about to do. Desperately trying to silence the longing that was trying to steal his concentration, he remained one with the darkness, content for the moment to simply watch her. Seemingly oblivious to the world around her, she shrugged the dress off of her shoulders and let it shimmy to the ground in a forgotten heap. As if she too could feel the heat that was overcoming him, she shivered and tossed her head back in wanton pleasure, letting the night air caress her naked flesh, giving him a full view of her flawless body. With a natural elegance she walked into the water, her delighted laughter a siren's call signalling to him that the perfect moment had finally arrived. He watched her briefly as she plunged deeply into the water, resurfacing only for a moment before again diving into the darkness. Ripping the laces off his breeches he impatiently pulled them from his body, the soft material rubbing against his engorged shaft. Finally naked he stealthily followed her into the water, diving deep to use the darkness to cover his presence until he was upon her. Seeing the pale silhouette of her body through the water, he rose up out of its depths to capture her. His muscular arms encircled her in their iron embrace as he prepared himself for her struggles, hoping she would submit willingly. Seconds passed and the water remained calm around them. Taken aback by her immediate acquiescence he looked down, meeting her eyes for the first time, and seeing within them an emotion he knew very well: the triumph of conquest. Ignoring the look he could not comprehend and was almost sure he had misinterpreted, he captured her mouth and speared her with his tongue. Her body arched against him as she used her tongue to counterattack his with a seductress's subtlety. Softly whimpering in need she clung to him, silently demanding with her actions an exquisite release. As her nails raked his back in wanton desire, he realised that somewhere along the way he had released her arms, and they had been wrapped around him throughout the kiss. Reveling in the feel of her nails still clinging to his back she wrapped her legs around him in the water until the head of his shaft was pressed against her core, showing him she was not only willing but eager. Water pounded against them as the tide became more violent, almost pushing his tip into her. Needing no more prompting he wrapped his hands around her backside for leverage and thrust into her with all his might. Her tight, moist body bucked against his, pulling him even deeper within her. Barely coherent he carried her to shore, her legs still wrapped around his waist. Their lips met harshly, passionately, as he pushed her into the moss-covered ground below him, never once leaving her sheath. Her lips whispered across his face, settling on his neck, as her hands held him to her tightly. With a triumphant cry she bit his neck, marking her territory with an animalistic ferocity. Knowing the symbolism of her actions, he too lowered his teeth to her neck and claimed her as his own before returning to kiss her lips. Their bodies hammered against each other as conscious thought began to slip away completely replaced with a primal need for fulfillment. They clung desperately to each other as they rode wave after wave of pleasure, allowing the world as they knew it to shatter and recreate itself around them. Exploding simultaneously into the night, they screamed into each other's mouths. Lying spent on the mossy ground they slowly looked at each other, smiling in exhausted contentment. Answering his silent question she softly whispered her name before drifting to sleep. Smiling down at her he tenderly caressed her hair and sleepily whispered his name to the wind, unaware she already knew it. ++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any comments and feedback, publicly posted or emailed to me, would be greatly appreciated. The Siren Dreams I shuddered as her mouth enclosed around my cock. I knew she was licking off the glistening liquid that had formed at the tip after so much anticipation. Her lips were full and pouty as they lingered where the head met my shaft. Her tongue pushed underneath my head and then slid around my cock to flick gently at the salty liquid. I had wanted this all night. I wanted to feel her body against mine and her mouth around my cock. I heard her let out that throaty moan of hers, slightly feminine and sexy. Her slender fingers enclosed on my shaft, and just as they began to twist, her mouth began to move back towards the tip of my cock. I lifted my head from the pillow and enjoyed seeing the top of her head. Her hair was smooth, and as I slipped my lengthy fingers in the brown tendrils, I felt another shudder go over my body as her mouth slid further on my cock than it had previously done. Her body situated against the bed and her ass, round and tempting, popped up into the air. Her hand worked my meat faster until I could barely stand the exasperation. "Please." I begged her. She sat up and looked across the bed at me. My eyes were half closed, but I knew that she was watching me. I looked across the bed at her and began wishing she hadn't turned her back to me so quickly. I sat up, propping my thin body against my elbows. I watched as she unlatched her bra and tossed it to the floor. Her curves reminded me of flowing water; ever present and hard to turn my eyes from. I watched as her curves moved. She slid her panties off and lifted her body down onto my cock. I nearly lost my mind as I felt the warmth envelope my whole body. I lifted my hands to her waist, in a vain effort to show some control. But I knew that she was the one totally in control. This was what I wanted, her to be the one in control. I merely was begging for it all night, with my eyes, my gestures-- and she knew it. I looked at her back, her face now shielded to me as she rode me backwards. My hands slid up and then back down the plane of her back. The arch alluring to me, this by far was one of the curviest parts of her, and the tender skin taunted me every time I had seen her bend over and invite my eyes for a peek. Her shirts were always just short enough for me to look at, and tonight it was no different. I groaned with satisfaction and could hear her breath quicken. Her arousal heightening, and mine nearly at its peak. My cock ached for her to move faster, but I knew she was taking her time. Enjoying the friction my long cock gave to her nerves. I sat up, pulling her down onto me. A short squeak and then a moan parted from her lips, the pouty full ones. I kissed the nape of her neck and felt a bit of moisture coming to the surface of her delicious skin. I heard her moan my name, "Oh Joshua..." There was no other noise from her because I suddenly could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart as my climax drove me into a deafening hush. The room dimmed and her body became nothing but outlines in the darkness. My face grew hot, and my skin close to ignition. I pumped my seed inside her and moaned her name, even though it was inaudible to me. Her body was crashing down towards my overgrown feet and I knew by the bites she gave my shins that she was coming as well. Another thrust sent the last bit of seed into her and I collapsed against the pillow.  I awoke with a start. My skin was soaked as were the white undershirt and the black boxer briefs I was wearing. My breathing was accelerated. I looked around my bunk, the lights were off from around the curtain; everyone was still asleep. I looked next to me and spotted the ledge that held my few precious items for while I slept. I clicked on the tiny purple fan that blew directly onto my face and lifted up a half-drunk bottle of water and gulped down a bit. I dropped my head back onto the pillow and welcomed its softness. I reached above my head and flipped the pillow over to the cool side. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness so I didn't dare flick my phone to see the time. I would be blinded by even that insignificant light and would then no longer be able to see my surroundings. I heard Dave's slight snores outside my curtain. I lifted my blanket to let my legs cool off, and knew what had awoken me when the stickiness did not dry from the fresher air. "Damn it." I cussed. Another night, another wet dream. Ever since she had joined our tour I had had sex dreams about her. The night seemed to linger on forever. I tossed and turned under the darkness. I wanted to sleep so badly, but knew that I never would be able to with wet sheets. What was worse-- my briefs were beginning to harden with the crust of my nightly torments. I wiped my face; my dark bangs sticking to my forehead from the sweat. The bus hit a bump and my body shifted on the bed. If I got up and changed my briefs, they would only get dirty and most likely wet from what remained on the sheets which, since I had had wet dreams every night for the last four days, were quite damp. And if I got up and changed my sheets, there was no doubt in my mind that I would wake up someone. Most likely Jon, whose bunk was beneath mine. So I waited. I waited for dawn to break. I waited for the sun to come back to her lover the moon, and replace his moonlight with her sunshine. I groaned. Even nature had a relationship that could be counted on. A relationship that could be trusted. A relationship that would come back to each other day after day no matter what. Kelly, my "girlfriend", had run off to Mexico with a few of her girl (and guy) friends. They were on an exciting break that was desperately needed. My last words to her before she had hung up on me were "I suppose one does need a break from the hard labors of stripping against a pole". That was a week ago. I moped for a few days, jealous of her possible indiscretions- then she joined the tour. After that my mind- and my body- simply asked 'who's Kelly?' I inhaled deeply and slowly let out a sigh. I rolled my head back and forth to stretch my neck and felt excitement when that slight exhaustion traveled from my stomach to my toes, and I knew that I could sleep. I closed my eyes, knowing I had been up at least two hours now, and happily drifted off to sleep.  A feminine giggle woke me from another taunting dream. This time my body was tied up with vines, and a leaf was stroking my body. I never found out who was doing the stroking or if the plant were alive, because that giggle roused me from my slumber. I was thankful though, because honestly, my sheets and my body could not take another dream. I sat up carefully to not hit my head on the top of the bunk. I swung the curtain open and slowly slid my body down the wood until my bare feet touched the floor. I looked to my left and saw the back of Jon's head at the table. Across from me Dave's curtain was still shut. I rubbed my eyes slightly and leaned back over my bunk to grab my cell phone. I hit the button on the side. Nearly nine o'clock. Much later than I usually sleep on a show date, but I was pleased to have gotten the sleep after such a long night. I walked to my right towards the second bathroom. I knew if I was lucky I could change before anyone even glanced at my protein stained briefs. And trust me, white shows up pretty obviously on black boxer briefs. I grabbed a few items of clothing out of the closet that held all of my clothes and snuck into the bathroom. I washed quickly and dressed even faster. I didn't want my shower to be obvious. Someone might have caught on to why I needed it. After my shower, I walked my aching body down the hallway to join the others at the front. My eyes fell on her quickly, and Lord have mercy on me, when I saw what she was wearing. She wore a form-fitting red tank top. Her hands were clasped around a mug of coffee, which pushed her already exposed cleavage together even more so. Her brown hair was in two ponytails that cascaded her hair down her shoulders like waterfalls. On the bridge of her nose was a pair of brown-rimmed cat-eyed glasses. She looked up at me with a smile on her face, and her green eyes tantalizing my tortured body. "Morning, Joshua." "Morning, Julianna." Jon turned around to look at the new person joining the morning table. His hair was misplaced from sleep. His brown eyes looked wide awake now, but his three-day scruff now looked like four and he was still in his white undershirt and green boxers. He didn't speak to me but nodded, so I nodded back. My voice had barely come to me when I spoke Julianna's name. I was unsure if it was nerves or just closed up from the night. "We were just talking about how Vic threw Braden back onto the stage last night after he jumped onto the barricades." Julianna explained, still gripping her coffee and pushing her cleavage up. I heard the toilet flush from the first bathroom, which I was conveniently standing in front of. The lock on the door unlatched and Vic, our big, bald, tattooed bodyguard came out. "Hey Josh." He squeezed past me, although I didn't occupy much space. Vic was a big boy but hardly the size of some bodyguards I had seen following other bands. I slipped past and settled myself next to Julianna on the edge of the booth. She slid over and allowed my skinny ass some extra space. I looked down and tried to keep the loss of my breath as inaudible as possible. Julianna's lower half was clothed by very short, white girl-shorts. The rims of the legs clung to her thighs and made them even more voluptuous. It was strange to see her in these panties, in my dream they were high-cut and lacy. These did nothing to deter my fantasies though; they added even more possibilities now. I could see directly down the hall, and was not surprised to see Braden's curtain still shut as well. Vic dropped down onto the sofa that faced the table. He was already showered and dressed. He was always the first one up and took protecting us very seriously. He was a good friend, and as far as we were concerned, just as much part of the band- just behind the scenes. "Heard you tossing and turning last night. Everything okay?" I knew he was looking at me before I looked at him. I turned my head to act surprised he was looking at me and shrugged my shoulders. Bad dream, I told him, and dropped it at that. "So anyways, do you think Braden's sore after that fiasco?" Julianna whispered across the table to Jon. Jon shrugged, but Vic answered, "I don't know what made him think it was a good idea to do that." Jon laughed, "those girls nearly ripped him to shreds. Did you see his shirt?" "Forget the shirt. Did you see his chest? He was covered in scratches!" Julianna squeaked. Her voice sounded very melodic and feminine to me today. Maybe it was because the last time I had heard her speak was a throaty moan in my dream. "Are you sure those were from the fans?" Vic laughed and pounded his hand on the table. Julianna shushed him and I was astonished to see Vic lean back and widen his eyes, who was even more amazed someone had told him what to do. "We don't want to wake anyone." She explained, but it was too late. The damage had been done. "Stop talking about me." Braden jokingly called out from his bunk. Dave's snores had ceased but after a moment of the four of us snickering quietly, they resumed. "It was still stupid and if I see another one of you try that again, I will kick your ass," Vic began, for some strange reason pointing his finger at me, he paused and then finished a thought, "or maybe I'll just let the fans have you." Jon got up and pulled a mug down from the cabinet and handed it to me and then filled my cup and topped off his and Julianna's. Vic, was drinking a monster energy drink. "Must be those old waiter skills kicking in." Julianna joked as Jon handed her the cream. She thanked him and I dispensed a little of the creamer into the darkness of the coffee. I watched as the cream swirled around the cup slowly making love to the coffee. I looked next to me and saw Julianna adding a sweet and low and handing me the sugar cubes. My fingers grazed hers very lightly, on purpose of course, while taking the sweeteners. She pulled away quickly. I was unsure if my freakishly long fingers repulsed her, or if she had felt the same intense sparks I had when our fingers met. I sighed and dropped a few cubes of sugar into my coffee. I saw Braden's curtain slide open and a pair of tiny hairless legs drop to the ground. Attached to those legs was my biggest problem; the reason that Julianna had joined the tour. A smallish blond ducked to avoid the upper bunk and stood. Her name was Mary. She rolled her head from side to side. She was wearing black girl-shorts and a blue tank top that formed her body just like Julianna's. I saw Braden's legs join the ground next to where Mary stood. He too ducked to avoid the upper bunk. Mary stretched her arms and all 5'1" body towards the ceiling. Braden slid his hands around her waist and held them there as she stretched. He nuzzled his face into her neck and murmured something. Braden, my best friend and lead singer to my band looked towards us sitting in the front of the bus. His dark shaggy hair was just as ruffled as Jon's, and was sticking up everywhere from a night of sleep- or more. He wore only a pair of black boxer briefs, and never seemed embarrassed to show off his body, for a laugh or a swoon. Mary lowered her arms and barely took notice of us before heading down the hallway to the bathroom I had just showered in. Braden's hands slid from her waist and he walked towards us to settle his bubbly ass next to Jon. "Sleep well?" Julianna growled with teasing. I nearly wanted to jump her and kiss where the growl had just emitted. Braden's smile grew wide and he winked one of his bright blue eyes in her direction, "always." He put both arms on the table and clasped his hands as if he were holding a coffee cup. I remembered Julianna's positioning and glanced towards her cleavage, but unfortunately, I didn't have the view I would have liked of her rounded globes of sex. I looked back to Braden and looked at his chest. There were scratches all over his chest and stomach of varying degrees of depth and length. The angles were coming from every direction, indicating one person did not do the damage. "So are you going to tell us what made you do such a stupid thing?" Vic finally spoke to Braden. Braden leaned back and ran his hand through his hair a few times, not helping his bed head in the least. He shrugged and dropped his hands into his lap. Jon smirked and sipped on his coffee, I could see from the corner of my eye Julianna shaking her head and smiling. "Because he's a dumbass?" I offered jokingly. "Wanted to see if my redbull really did give me wings." Braden smirked. He lifted his hands to indicate towards his chest, "guess not." "I think we should sue for false advertising." I suggested and sipped on my coffee. I looked between Braden and Jon. Jon looked much more tired than Braden, which amazed me since Braden had just woken up and Jon had been up at least a half an hour now. I wondered what it was like sharing the bunk. I didn't think it was really possible, but I had seen it done now by all three of my band mates. I wondered what it would feel like to squeeze in such a small space with a girl. Her breasts crushed against my ribs. I absentmindedly turned my head to glance at Julianna's breasts. They had to be at least Ds, they were very round and soft looking. They were much larger than any of my girlfriends had ever had. "Like what you see?" I heard Jon guffaw. Julianna's head snapped at me and I realized I had been staring not glancing. Julianna's mouth dropped open and her brow rose in surprise. I knew my face had turned red so I turned to look at Vic for support. "I've stared at them too. They're nice." He offered and winked at me. He lifted his can of monster out towards Julianna. She put her hand to her chest and looked down, realizing for the first time how exposed she really was. "Excuse me. Think I'll go change." Julianna nudged me with her thigh, as she held tight to her cleavage. I felt her curvy hip push against me so I stood, praying that I didn't have wood. I watched as she walked down the hall towards where Mary had disappeared. The girl-shorts left nothing to the imagination except more fantasies. The legs curved to her butt and made it seem all the more spankable. I quickly sat back down at the table. The guys were all smirking, "more dreams?" Braden chuckled. His smile was wide and teasing. I glared at him from across the table. He was the only one I had told about my fantasies. After all, it was because of his girlfriend that this Siren had joined the tour. That, however, had not been the best choice. Braden hated Kelly with a passion that could keep the Olympic torch lit across the globe. The fear then was that he would try to break Kelly and I up, or worse, tell Mary or Julianna my thoughts. Luckily they both seemed aloof and I knew the trust in our friendship was stronger than his hate for Kelly. "Dreams?" Jon asked, leaning back against the booth to rest next to Braden. "I've just been having some weird dreams the past few nights. Not a lot of sleep." I mumbled offhandedly and lost my voice in my coffee. Braden's smile didn't fade but both Vic and Jon seemed to feel my insecurity and dropped the subject. Vic picked up the conversation with berating Braden some more about jumping towards the audience unexpectedly. Mary and Braden had met before one of our shows in Amelia, VA, where both girls were from. Braden and Jon had decided to hit the mall and catch a movie while the stage was being set up. Apparently the theater had been packed and Braden was forced to find a seat next to Mary. Once, during the movie Braden had gotten up to go to the bathroom and had excused himself in front of the two girls, and being the klutz that he is knocked the Goobers right out of her hand. One thing led to another and somehow he was not only buying her a new box but handing her his phone number as well. Shockingly, they already had tickets to the show, and when he begged her to meet him after the show to make up for the inconvenience, Julianna blessed—or maybe cursed-- my life. After many weeks of e-mails, texts, and phone calls Braden had invited Mary to join us on tour for a week. Julianna was invited to tag along since the days on tour can get rather dull. We were on day four, and the nights were killing me. I ached to touch her, kiss her, bed her. Of course my loyalties to Kelly- angry or not- kept me faithful, a task that was like putting the fires of hell out with a sprinkler. It was going to be the longest week of my life.  The next time I ran into Julianna I was struggling to pull a bag from underneath the bus. I could feel her smoldering eyes on me before I had spotted her, and attempted to look much stronger than I really was. I yanked the suitcase harshly but it wouldn't budge. "Want me to get Vic?" I heard her offer lightly. I turned to look at her. She was wearing a white sundress that tied around her neck. The straps pulled on her cleavage and made her breasts appear to be hanging gently in hammocks. She wore sunglasses and white sandals and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail. I gulped and shook my head vigorously. If she came over to me, I knew I would never be able to pull the bag out. My knees would go weak. She came closer and watched me as I pulled and jerked the handles of the suitcase. It was wedged tightly between one of Dave's other drums and Jon's suitcase. I saw the extra skateboard locking the suitcase in place, and considered climbing into remove it. I decided against it as I saw her get even closer. I didn't want my scrawny ass sticking out for her to laugh at. The Siren Dreams Her lips parted as she watched me tug harder. Large brown-rimmed sunglasses shielded my eyes from hers, but I couldn't help notice that her upper lip formed an M as if it was saying "MMMMM". MMMMM is right, I wanted to nibble on that delectable lip like a strawberry. I yanked once more and wrenched my shoulder hard. "Shit." I cussed and looked at her. She came to my side even closer and put her arms around my shoulder and rubbed gently. "Careful. You're gonna kill yourself before the show." I melted to her touch. I stood at least three inches higher than her, but her slender fingers worked my aching muscle like dough. As great as it felt, I had to abstain from asking her to rub my other aching muscle. When she slowed her kneading, I felt her hand graze my shoulder blade and then my backbone before resting above my tailbone. "Better?" I nodded and thanked her. She patted my lower back and I was thankful when she walked away, "I'll get you Vic." I looked down and was grateful she had been behind me. Sure enough, my tan pants were tighter than usual and I could see my want stretching the material to its limit. I took a deep breath and smoothed down my red and black tee shirt. I cracked my knuckles and pulled them close to my face, exhaling deeply against my fingers. In the distance, on a hill I could see a few fans watching. They were much too far away to notice what was happening with my body, but I felt even more uncomfortable just the same. I waited for Vic and showed him the suitcase I wanted. With one tug he had dislodged it from its entrapment and carried it onto the bus for me. I had forgotten what I wanted it for but thanked Vic and stuffed it into my cabinet with all of my other belongings. I headed inside to the cooler arena. Braden and Dave were both skateboarding around the upper circles of the arena. The crew was still setting the stage and I knew from its placement I still had at least another hour to kill. Jon sat with Mary and Julianna at the very back of the arena in some of the seats. Jon, who was now dressed in a black and white stripped t-shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, and sandals waved to me as I approached. Mary was now in black capris and a yellow v-neck with her hair pulled up into a bun. As I got closer I noticed Jon was balancing on an upright seat, and the two girls were standing on either side of him. I split the difference and stopped between the two of them facing Jon. "Heard you haven't been sleeping well." Mary offered. I searched her voice for a hint of teasing, but despite Jon's knowing grin, she seemed genuinely concerned. "Nah. Weird dreams." I mumbled as I had earlier on the bus. "What kind of dreams?" Julianna asked. She too seemed genuinely interested, but not smug. I watched as Jon pursed his lips together to avoid a chuckle and looked away as if he was watching Braden and Dave. "Just-" I racked my brain. "Different one's every night. Some end good, some end bad." It wasn't a lie. In the first dream Kelly had walked in on us. In a strange way, since I was so angry with her, the idea of making love to Julianna and her catching us turned me on. That's when I left stains on my sheet that night. "Or don't end at all?" Jon offered, this time there was teasing. "Nope, they always end." I heard Braden laugh behind me. Jon burst out laughing. The girls looked between each other curiously but neither had the answer to the joke. Braden was now dressed too. I assumed the scratches on his chest were hurting him, despite his protests. The shirt he was wearing was black and much looser than what he normally wore. It was a t-shirt with white flowered outlines. He also wore dark blue jeans with a black belt and a vintage tan corduroy jacket that he was rarely without lately. Dave joined us, the chunkiest in the group, his shirts, this time a red one, always clung to his little belly pooch. His sandy colored hair was spiked up, but his sideburns blended with his facial hair to make him look like one overgrown sunflower. He too wore dark jeans, these were much looser and torn, and sandals. "What's so funny?" He asked feeling left out. "Nothing." I demanded more from Braden and Jon than anything. Braden and Jon were both still grinning, while Dave, Mary, and Julianna all looked equally confused, and I equally uncomfortable with where this could head. "Vic wants us to meet him in a 'safety' meeting in ten minutes." Jon used his fingers for quotes. We all glared at Braden, "what?" He chuckled. He knew, as we all did, that this meeting was because of his stupid stunt from the night before. As if I would fling my guitar off from my head and dive into the audience. I could barely look into the audience, let alone, swim amongst them. "Should we go with you?" Julianna asked me more than the group. I shrugged, but Dave answered, "no. They're terrible. Unless he calls you in, get away while you can." I saw out of the corner of my eye Braden leading Mary a few feet away and stopping. He leaned his skateboard against the railing and grabbed onto her hands. Julianna distractedly watched them so I turned my head to see what was so fascinating. Braden rested his head on top of Mary's and was saying something to her with his eyes closed. She was easily a head shorter than him so it took hardly any effort on his part to rest his chin against her hair. "Well I'm gonna see if I can escape before Vic catches me." Dave laughed and hauled ass in another direction. "Un ugh!" Jon hopped up after him. "He'll keep us there until you come!" I turned my attentions from Braden and Mary to watch Jon chase down Dave. Dave jumped onto his skateboard and took off from Jon at a much quicker pace. "They make a good couple. Don't you think?" Julianna awed. I looked over at her, and noticed her beautiful eyelashes, full and curled. She was still watching Braden murmur to Mary. Braden was now swinging her hands back and forth and looking down at her. She stared up at him with as much awe as Julianna had watching them. "I suppose. I'm not familiar with good couples." I casually stated. While her eyes remained on the lovebirds my eyes remained fixed on her. I studied her face: the curve of her cheekbone, her delicate and slightly upturned nose, the way her jaw met her slender neck, and her small and pouty lips. Her lashes remained my main focus until she broke her gaze and turned to look at me. Her stunning eyes made me lose my breath but I kept it hidden well. "Why's that?" "All of my relationships end in failure." She gasped lightly, "even with Kelly?" I shrugged giving a non-answer. "But Dave and Sarah. Jon and Kim?" I shrugged again, committing to nothing. "Look at them though." She waved her hand in their direction. Braden had not disappointed Julianna's stance. Again his head was in top of Mary's but this time his arms were embraced around her. Mary's head rested against Braden's chest and her hands hung onto his forearms. "How can you not say that's cute?" "It is cute." I stomached the sight only for Julianna's sake. To be closer to her for even a few minutes longer. "How can you tell me then that you don't know a good couple when you see it?" She scoffed and looked back at me. Her hands dropped to her waist, ready to take on my next rebuttal. I had one, "Every relationship starts off like that." "Like what?" "Like they're the only person in the world for you. Give it three months and they won't act that way." I snapped my mouth shut at my own accusation. I felt like I was the grim reaper dooming Braden's happiness. Julianna obviously was thinking the same thing. "No wonder you write the way you do." I threw my head back with an over exaggerated laugh, "what way?" "Sarcastic, dry, skeptical, and always calling people in love hypocritical." I noticed her neck was flushing. As she got angrier, her eyes flared and became shadowy. We had caught Mary's attention. Her eyes had opened and she stared inquisitively towards us. When Braden spoke her eyes shut again, obviously uninterested in what we might be talking about. "Well look at them!" Now I indicated towards the couple. "So much physical contact in such few short days! Soon they'll want their space and they'll be barking at each other like dogs on leashes! Then will come name calling, nasty remarks, and they will be forgivable but never forgotten! Or-" Julianna tried to cut me off, but I spoke louder, "they'll get bored because all of the new and fun things in their relationship have gone away too quickly and then the 'meant to be' romance they thought they had will become another lost cause. I give them a shelf-life of four maybe five months" Julianna's mouth hung down. If it were possible it would've been on the ground. She looked like she wanted to hit me. And not just with her fist. "Are you insane?" I couldn't really say anything to that remark, but felt remorse for sealing my friend's fate. I didn't really know where the words came from, but I felt them and they needed to be said. Maybe more to myself than to Julianna. I tried to come up with something to say, and then had it, at least something to make me look stable- "Sex that fast in a relationship seals the package for an expiration date." Not mentioning that even my longer lasting relationships never involved sex before we decided to call it quits. Julianna's mouth dropped again and before I could brace myself two hands were pressed against my chest, fast and hard. "They haven't even had sex yet!" The shove sent me off my feet and I scrambled to regain my balance. "It's always about sex with guys!" Braden and Mary had pulled apart quickly; Braden's arm still holding onto Mary's. Julianna had spoken much louder than I had expected her to. Whether they knew we were talking about them or not, they both looked a little awkward. I looked over at the couple after I had caught my balance. Braden leaned down and said something to Mary and kissed her eyelid and walked towards me, leaving Mary to look even more awkward than before. "Come on, we better get to that meeting." Braden put his arm around the back of my neck and gently touched my hair. I looked at Julianna and felt my shoulders relax just a little bit. Her hands were still out in front of her, shaking; her face was red from anger and embarrassment. I wanted to apologize, tell her it wasn't right to stir her up when she seemed so content with her friend's happiness. It was I who needed the encouragement. I who had the relationship expiration date-- and something told me it had already gone bad. The Siren Song of the Manatee Fuck me. I just fucked a fat chick the size of Shaq who was beaten repeatedly with an ugly stick. We're talking serial beatings here. It started off innocently enough. I logged on to an online dating site, plentyoffish.com, and did some prospecting. The ratio of hot to ugly chicks is probably 20 to 1 on this site. Factor in the ratio of guys to girls on the site is another 20:1. Multiply the result and the answer = fucked. So the way forward was clear. It was a Wednesday morning, and I was sitting in the house in my robe eating a twinkie. I hadn't got laid in about four months (dry spell fellas, happens to the best of us). After four months on a deserted island a man will fuck a wandering manatee if he can lay his hands on one. Don't deny it. After four months in Los Angeles, a man will lay with the human equivalent of a wandering manatee. Let's call her Wendy. I started messaging girls on the site with the subtle, yet intriguing, "I'm taking a survey. Want to fuck? Check yes, or maybe later." My reasoning was threefold: I didn't give a rat's ass about these fat chicks' feelings, I'm an anonymous guy on the internet so I can't get called on it, and while I will stoop to fucking the homo sapiens equivalent of a manatee, by god I will NOT stop to woo her first. After a couple dozen "survey queries," I managed to get a response from "Wendy," who instant messaged me. "God, are you for real? That's funny." "In that picture, is that your ass or a fire truck?" "What?" "Nothing. Want to get a drink? At your house?" And so we had a drink. Okay, it wasn't that short of a conversation -- but it was pretty damn short! No joke, thirty minutes on messenger, then thirty minutes on the phone, then "I can't talk dirty anymore my phone is dying but I'll be there in twenty minutes. What freeway exit is it?" So I pull up onto her street. This is a ghetto-ass neighborhood. Graffiti, beat up cars, Mexicans riding bicycles at one in the morning. Sketchy. I see her standing outside of her apartment and waving. I crane my head and pull up closer and oh god, she's ugly. I don't know what pictures she posted on the site, maybe that was her hot sister, but this manatee was something else. Six feet tall, a monster, and wide as a house. As I pulled up close I saw her face, which had a crazed expression on it, and all of a sudden I knew she wasn't joking about those six prescription meds she takes. "Hey! Are you okay? You don't look so excited to see me!" I summon up all the fake smiling skill I've acquired during four years of business school. "Not at all!" Smile! Not good enough. Maybe if I had an MBA. Up in her apartment she stares at me and starts caressing me. "Hey, so you mentioned you have some rum?" I say. " Oh what's the matter, don't want to talk to me unless you're drunk?" That's exactly right. But so awkward of you to mention it. "No, no. I just thought that...um...well it might be fun." She giggles. "Sure, pour yourself a cup." I'll probably need the whole bottle. I'm sort of getting cold feet about the whole thing by now, but I put in all this work and by god I was going to put this thing in her before I left. So as we sat down to "watch a movie" I started swilling shot after shot of rum. "Are you okay? Gosh, I've never seen someone drink that much so fast!" Yeah, and I've never seen someone this ugly this close. Oh god I'm going to have to fuck that. We're about ten minutes into Zoolander (yes, I did manage to salvage something of the evening) and I figure that while more rum would certainly help matters, sort of like how anesthesia helps in a leg amputation, the flipside of the coin was if I drank too much, I would have to wait too long until I could drive home. And the prospect of hanging with this girl after sex scared the living shit out of me. So I tossed aside the bottle and made my move. You might think "making a move" refers to putting the ol' arm around the shoulder and leaning in for the kiss. It does, usually. But I really didn't want to go there, so I just took off all of my clothes, hoping I could bypass some of the foreplay that way. I saunter over to the bedroom, dragging her casually by the hand. "Oh Bill, you're so..." "So what?" "So impatient! I mean, don't you even want to talk to me first?" She makes a crazy face. I cleverly dodge that one by not saying anything. I throw her down on the bed, hard, and climb on top of her. I look at her wishing I had a paper bag to put over her face. I slip on the condom and start doing her hard. "You know I didn't want to have sex tonight on the first date!" She pants. "Oh really? I'm sorry. It must just have slipped in there." Hot dog in the hallway, you know how it is. She's going wild, screaming my name, nails on my back—that at least feels good. I'm riding her grimly for about five minutes before she cums once, twice. I haven't. I'm still plowing away at her but it's just not going anywhere. I roll off of her, leaving her there panting like a cow while I head to the bathroom. Deciding she probably doesn't blow much better than she fucks, I finish myself off there. A little bit of cleanup with her toothbrush makes me feel better. I stride back outside and start putting on my clothes. "Are you leaving already?" She asks, incredulous. "It's late babe, I've got to get up early tomorrow." "But you haven't even been here for an hour!" Looking at the clock I saw the truth of her words. Just had to delay her crazy manatee mating rage until I was safely out of the apartment... "Well, I thought we might hang out again Wednesday? Are you doing anything Wednesday?" I said, as I hurriedly put on my sweater. "No," she said, looking mollified. "Great, how about we hang out again Wednesday," I said as I walked toward the door. Yeah, right! "Okay, sounds good! I'll see you then. Good night." As I walked out the door she calls my name. "Bill?" I turned around. "Yes Wendy?" "You are going to call me, right?" "Of course." God I'm such an asshole sometimes. I'm sobbing quietly to myself on the way home, feeling the pain of the ordeal, and I vow that I'll never hit another fatty again. But deep down I know it's in vain. Because the call of the manatee will one day sound again, and god only knows if I'll have the strength to refuse. -Bill Black The Siren vs. The Commando Maya ran the pink ribbon between her fingers. The ribbon contrasted sharply with her appearance. Maya wore a fitted body suit that covered... well some of her body, at least, and cargo pants over it. A belt slung slantwise across her hips held her protean grenade and an SDU loaded with several sniper rifles, an SMG, and few thousand rounds of ammunition. At her last visit to the NewYou! station, Maya had swapped out her sleek bangs. The machine had restyled her with spikey, down-hanging locks of hair and she'd thrown in a few steel hoops through her lip and nose later. She could always change it back, if she wanted. The Siren tied the pink ribbon into a bow, but it wasn't for her. It was for the man she was on her way to see, the ex-Dahl commando, Axton. Not that a pink bow suited him more than it did Maya, but it was a gift... of sorts. After the man have saver her ass a few times, Maya thought a present was appropriate and decided that a good start might be a ribbon for that ridiculously large turret that Axton doted on. Axton responded well to teasing and Maya thought Axton might actually tie the bow onto the barrel of the automated gun. Then maybe she could buy him a beer at Moxxxi's or something. Axton's room in Sanctuary wasn't far from Maya's own. Roland had given all the vault hunters rooms near his command center in what used to be officer's quarters when the flying city had been a Dahl company mining ship. The hovering monstrosity that was the mechromancer's pet kill-bot floated just down the hall. Gaige had grudgingly entered Maya and the other Vault Hunters into its IFF - identify friend or foe - databank, so it scanned Maya only briefly before returning to ignoring her. But it did make Maya think about the conversation she and Gaige had shared at Moxxxi's the other day. If what the girl said when drunk was true, then Maya didn't understand why Axton's wife had left him. She knew the soldier had been discharged for blowing up some diplomat in order to wipe out a band of terrorists, but that was awesome. A feature, not a bug, as Gaige would have said. Maya knocked on the door to Axton's room. "Hang on a minute!" he called from inside. Maya grabbed the airlock-style wheel on the door and cranked it. She'd been raised by the Order of the Impending Storm on Athenas to expect obedience from common people, and while Maya hated the brothers of the order - and had sort of killed them all - she still more or less did what she wanted. Which at this moment included walking into Axton's room. The Siren did not expect to find Axton sitting on his bed, back against the wall with his towering cock in his hand. Sweat stood out in tiny glittering droplets on his chest and abs. His face was flushed as red as his long pole. The commando was jerking it vigorously, trying to finish what Maya had interrupted. She really didn't know what to say. Axton's strong hand was a blur moving up and down his cock. Each pump made his bicep flex and bunch. His swollen balls bounced underneath his up-thrust cock. Some shiny fluid was smeared over the flushed head of his dick, and Axton's stroking hand spread it up and down his shaft. It was the first cock Maya had ever seen. Well, there had been that bandit who'd charged her naked and waving a grenade in each hand, but he'd not been hard and Maya had shot him in the face. So she was pretty sure that didn't count. Maya saw Axton's eyes go wide, but then it was too late. A long jet of pearly fluid sprayed up from his cock and flew into the air. Her eyes followed the white streamer up and then down as it splattered across Axton's chiseled stomach. A second, then a third, fourth, and fifth rope spurted from Axton's cock and splashed down onto his hard belly. The strings of glistening semen overlapped and crisscrossed his stomach like the lines of Maya's tattoos. The Siren finally knew what to say. "That was amazing!" Maya's education on Athenas had concerned her Siren powers, combat training and little else. Maya received more sex education in one innuendo-laced conversation with Moxxxi than she had from all the brothers of the Order of the Impending Storm. The slightly drunken claims of the mechromancer, Gaige, had seemed as wild a tale as the story of the Warrior or Captain Blade's treasure. Axton made a lunge for his pants and Maya acted without thinking. "Hold it!" she said. Maya stretched her hand out and the blue lines of her heritage glowed with power. A swirling globe appeared, sucking Axton into it and lifting him into the air. He hovered, suspended for a moment, then Maya gestured and the glowing sphere moved Axton, pushing him against the wall. "Uh, can I help you with something?" Axton asked uncertainly. The glow of Maya's tattoos and the phase lock receded. Maya didn't want to crush Axton or scatter his atoms between dimensions. She only needed enough power to hold him. The commando hung in the air with his back to the wall. Droplets of sweat trickled down his body, following his musculature and mixing with the semen on his stomach. His cock was still hard and long. "What's this stuff?" Maya demanded. She jabbed her finger into the slowly dripping puddle of cum accusingly. Men were such messy creatures. "Um, shattered expectations of privacy?" Maya scooped up a gob of semen and lifted it up. She watched the liquid pearl slowly stretch towards the floor. "Well?" she asked. "Jeeze. It's just cum, Maya. You know what that is, right?" She caught herself shaking her head and stopped. For twenty-seven years, she had been fed lies and denied things like this by a bunch of selfish assholes. The sight of the milky spend flying into the air had amazed Maya. Her body had responded instantly, nipples hardening, pussy lubricating swiftly. She rubbed the substance from Axton's cock between her gloved fingers. It was like slag, but white and smoother. "It's sticky. Why is it sticky?" she asked. Maya popped her finger in her mouth. The glob of spunk was creamy, just slightly sticky, and the flavor was something she'd never tasted before. It was musky. Or salty. Or sweet. She couldn't decide. Maya inhaled deeply, smelling Axton's sweat, its unique odor. It tasted like Axton smelled. The Siren closed the short distance to the commando and leaned in. "Hey, what are you-oh... okay!" he said. Maya looked at the intimidating length of Axton's dick and leaned past it. She bent to the side to avoid touching it. Maya wasn't scared, but she was new to all of this and wasn't quite ready for... that... yet. Possessed by a sudden and overpowering urge to learn, she descended on Axton's stomach to lick up his jizz. Maya could think about his cock later. Her tongue flicked out and tasted spunk. Axton's sweat was stronger on his skin underneath the cum, and Maya liked it. She licked again, then again, following the ridges of his abs and removing the thick jizz. When the Siren had indulged her craving, Axton's abs were wet with her saliva. Maya licked the last of the sticky mess from her lips. "Well, that was weird," said Axton. "How about letting me down now?" "I'm not finished," Maya told him. Now for the cock. Maya looked at it up close. It looked both strong and terribly fragile at the same time. It was thick and ridged with veins, but the skin was so translucent that she could see the delicate capillaries, as well. Axton's dick still had a film of semen on it. Maya leaned closer and hesitantly touched it. His shaft was blazing hot and as hard as it looked. At her touch, the pillar of flesh throbbed and twitched against her fingers. Maya lifted it and looked at Axton's balls. They were shaved clean, but they were no longer puffy and tightly drawn against his body. The skin had loosened and they dangled now, swinging gently with Maya's exploratory tugging. "Oh, well. In that case, carry on," Axton said. Maya looked up at the commando pinned against the walls by her powers. He was smiling. He was helpless under her power. Maya could kill him if she wanted to. Not that she did. Her body shivered and she felt herself sweating. Between her legs, the fluids were sweeter and ran swifter. No, she didn't want to kill Axton, but the power she held over him was intoxicating. It was so unlike the fear and blind devotion she'd witnessed on Athenas. Axton knew what Maya wanted - even if she didn't know herself - and he welcomed it. Suddenly, Maya felt that she wasn't the one in control anymore. Her pointed nipples and dripping pussy responded to Axton, not to her own will. Helpless and bound by Maya's power, Axton was smiling instead of trembling. Oh, except he was trembling. Little shivers whenever she moved her hand up the hard length of him. Maya tightened her grip on Axton's cock and began to jerk him as she'd seen him do. "Ugn! Oh, hell yeah," he husked. And with that, Maya was back in control. The Siren pumped Axton's dick, slowly picking up the knack of it. At first, he winced as she squeezed or tugged too hard, or as her gloved hand scraped the crown of his cock too roughly. But slowly, Axton's grunts and gasps taught Maya when she was doing it right. As proof, she watched as his testicles rose and pulled tight between his captive thighs. She reached up with her other hand and prodded them with one finger. They were still soft, but very hot. So hot she could feel it through her glove. Maya caressed them more gently and Axton let out a groan. Maya jacked Axton off with growing skill and rubbed his balls with her other hand. The commando began to writhe and twitch against the wall like he hadn't when she first arrived. But he didn't seem to want to escape Maya. As much as he could in the grip of her phase lock, Axton was thrusting his shaft into her hand. "Yeah, baby!" he grunted. And then she made him shoot out his semen. Maya let out a gasp of her own, only realizing then how wet and hot her pussy was. How close to cumming. A strand of creamy spunk slapped against her cheek and at the feel of the hot, gooey cum on her face, Maya came. Wetness squirted into her panties as Axton blasted her face with another thick rope of sperm. The Siren's hand tightened on his balls and Axton gasped, but if anything, it seemed to make him cum harder. Jizz sprayed over Maya's face, covering her cheeks and chin, hanging from her hair and lying thick over her lips. Maya stepped back a pace and looked at her hand. Thick ropes of cum were strung between her gloved fingers. She felt the stuff sliding down her cheeks, saw the strings of it dangling from her hair. When she looked up, they stuck to her face and joined the thick mess there. She watched Axton, panting with great heaves of his chest, while she licked his semen from her face. His cock was still hard. "So that was... wow," Axton said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Maya considered for a moment. "Well, you did say I owed you." "No, I didn't. I implied it." Axton grinned and Maya felt that flip-flop of positions again. That the commando, nude and phase locked was somehow in control of her. With a wave of her arm, her tattoos glowed back to full power and Axton flew back across the room to land on his bed. Maya unbuckled her belt and let the equipment it carried clatter to the floor. Her gloved hands worked feverishly at her pants. Maya was eager but nervous and it made her clumsy, but she finally pushed her pants down her slim legs. Her bodysuit covered her body in tight grey and black, except for her left arm and leg and a small cutout on her chest. Her tattoos, from shoulder to wrist and from ankle to thigh on her hip, were left bare for all her worshippers to see. Now Maya set about stripping it away until she stood next to the restrained commando completely naked. Axton lay sweating on his bed. Maya watched his muscles twitch as he tried to find some leverage for movement, but it was useless. His struggles only made the tower of his cock sway. Maya bit her lip. Before her conversation with Gaige, she hadn't known anything about the mechanics of sex. What goes where? The young mechromancer had put it just about everywhere, it seemed, and claimed that each penetration was better than the last. Axton's dick was long and thick and Maya wasn't sure how it was supposed to fit inside her body. But she came to Pandora to fight, not stand around. She could handle a cock, right? The Siren stepped up onto the bed and straddled Axton. She could feel the heat of his cock where it brushed her thigh and her pussy seemed to answer it. Maya's cunt leaked down her flushed lips and thighs. Her twat seemed to want that cock between her legs. Maya grabbed Axton's dick in her bare hands and let out a gasp at her first skin-to-skin contact with him. Another blaze of heat rippled out from her twat and Maya gave a small whimper. The Siren guided Axton's cock between her lips and then bent her long legs slowly. The wide head slipped between Maya's slick outer labia easily. Her inner lips were no less wet, but they were tight and took more force to spread. But the touch of Axton's cock to her pussy set Maya tingling so fiercely that she was more than willing to force it as hard as she needed to. With a loud moan, she dropped to her knees and Axton's cock plunged up into her body. Maya lifted her head and let out a cry of mingled pain and pleasure. She had trained in combat since childhood and there was no muscle she hadn't stretched and flexed, so there was no tearing, no blood. Her body gave way slowly to Axton's dick as he entered her. Maya's pussy stretched just enough to allow him in and no further. He filled her wall to wall and all the way back. Another person was inside her body. A man. Axton. The Siren screamed as an orgasm tore through her slim body. Her tattoos glowed with unfocused power and a dozen light objects in the room flew in every direction. Suddenly Moxxxi's every comment about "going for a ride" made sense as Maya's hips twitched and rolled instinctively on the hard pillar of flesh between her legs. Her cunt wanted it deeper and harder, and grinding her hips down on Axton was instinct. "That's my girl!" Axton grunted from beneath her. When the rippling chain of orgasms ended, Maya lifted her hips up the length of Axton's shaft. Maya didn't let him escape her body completely - she found herself strangely reluctant to do that - but held the head at her inner lips again. It was like being entered all over again and the thought made her juices run down his shaft. Maya pushed her cunt back down Axton's pole, but no sooner did she bottom out on him, she lifted her hips again. Maya took a few minutes just savoring the feel, then it took her a few more minutes to discover that there was a rhythm to bouncing on the commando's cock. Something was building inside her. She knew now it was an orgasm, but it was coming on more slowly, yet at the same time it seemed larger. The climax finally arrived with unexpected swiftness. She was suddenly shaking and screaming. Maya couldn't keep herself bouncing on Axton's dick, but could only writhe on top of him. His hands cupped her tits and squeezed strong fingers into her sensitive flesh. When he pinched her nipples, giving each a small twist, Maya almost fainted from the sensory overload. That may have been why she almost didn't realize that Axton shouldn't have been able to move. Somewhere in that blinding orgasm her powers had faltered, lapsed, and Axton was free. He slammed his hips up into her, using her tits as leverage even as he fondled them. The commando sat up and rolled Maya swiftly down to the bed. Suddenly, Maya was looking up at Axton. Her legs were spread wide, trembling too hard to bring closed. Axton grinned and sucked one of Maya's nipple into his mouth while he fucked her. Maya fumbled for her powers and her tattoo flickered, but the shattering orgasms came relentlessly and her concentration fled. "Here, try this," Axton said. He withdrew his hard cock and Maya sagged limply to the mattress. Sweat beaded on her pale skin and trickled gently down the slopes of her flushed tits. A lock of hair hung over Maya's face. It was still sticky with cum. The Siren tried to gather herself, to take control again, but her body resisted her. She wanted only to lay like this forever, warm and pliant, and if Axton wanted to pound her gushing cunt, her spread legs welcomed him. But he wanted her to try something. His strong hands took her hips and rolled her, pulled her. Axton positioned her on her knees and Maya managed to push herself up on her arms so that her face wasn't pressed into the damp of her pussy juices in the sheets. She looked over her shoulder at the commando to say something. But before she could even decide what she might say, her voice was stolen from her as Axton slid his long pole back into Maya. The soldier's cock struck more deeply from behind, forcing Maya to stretch just a little bit further. The sweet ache of it made her back arch and her mouth drop open. Axton held her hips and slammed the Siren hard. How had the younger mechromancer endured this? She was even smaller than Maya. The Siren bit her lower lip and stiffened her arms, pushing herself back against Axton. This time, Maya kept control over her body by pure force of will as an orgasm threatened to send her tumbling bonelessly back to the mattress. In a way, it was like the meditation that the Order of the Impending Storm taught her. Maya had learned to envision a bright, clear light, a colorless glow that could only be reached by privation and dedication. Or sex, apparently. Maya was dimly aware that her tattoos were glowing and everything in the room not nailed down was hovering around her. But not flying in a chaotic and random storm. Just suspended there by her powers. That clear light was blazing between her legs, pulsing brighter with every thrust of Axton's cock. Maya held onto the glow even as Axton slipped his cock out of her. The clear light changed. Not its color, but its quality. It was only Maya, with nothing of Axton's seemingly boundless energy in it. She missed it. "Well, what have we here?" Axton said. Maya gasped as the commando pushed his cock against the tight sphincter of her ass. Her back arched and her buttocks tensed, but she so wanted that feeling back. She whimpered, uncertain, but lifted her ass higher, pushing towards Axton in invitation. He leaned over Maya, reaching around to cup her tits and pull her hard against his body. There was a moment of resistance, tension, then the blunt head of his cock forced her asshole open and his cock surged up her butt. Maya screamed. The feeling was back, but different. The clear light had taken on a different texture. It was deeper and smoother. Heavier. A bass note of ecstasy in counterpoint to the soaring high treble of her earlier orgasms. The note of pleasure changed as Axton's dick slid deeper into Maya and as he withdrew it. The Siren felt her tight rear passage clinging tightly to Axton's girth, feebly squeezing at him to prevent his escape. She reached for him with her powers, but she had no control over them. Every object in the room hovered in perfect suspension between planes, but her powers responded to her need, to her blazing pleasure, not her conscious will. So Maya gave her will over to the feeling. "Come on!" she moaned. Maya shoved back against Axton and recaptured half his length. "Oh yeah!" he grunted in reply, and gave her the rest of it. His hands were all over her. Axton squeezed her tits. His fingers found her nipples and toyed with them, sending shivering treble notes to join the bass thrum of her anal orgasms. He trailed his hands down her back, gripped her hips and pulled on her hard. Axton slammed his dick up Maya's ass urgently, then released her, changing the game again. His strong hands encircled her, slipped down between her thighs and found her gushing slit. Axton stroked a finger over Maya's clit with one hand while the other plunged long digits into her. Maya could feel the commando's fingers inside her cunt, rubbing against his shaft in her rectum from inside her. Axton seemed everywhere in and on her. It was like touching the next plane over, feeling multiple realities at once. All of Maya's realities were Axton. The Siren vs. The Commando She wasn't in control. Axton wasn't either. They moved together, giving and taking at once. "I'm gonna cum!" Axton said. Maya opened herself to it. Her body relaxed and Axton's cock struck deep up Maya's asshole. She could feel the heat of Axton's balls against her buttocks. They were hot and full, but she knew that what they held was for her. As Maya opened herself, the commando let go. Maya felt the first blazing spurt of semen spray up her butt. The thick jizz splashed her bowels and Maya's orgasm jolted into something higher. She could no longer scream. Some of the hovering objects flew across the room, others simply vanished entirely into another dimension. Each volley of semen up her ass sent of ripple of light dancing down Maya's tattoos that made the room shake. At last Axton pulled back. She could feel a gooey strand of cum stretching between the tip of his departing cock and her stretched anus. Thick spunk was bubbling slowly out of her asshole and Maya let it drip down her crack and over her pussy lips and trembling thighs. She lowered herself slowly to the bed and rolled onto her side to look up at Axton. His muscular body was drenched in sweat and his long cock was finally drifting downwards. One corner of his mouth was quirked upwards. "Wow... So that happened," he said. The Siren's tattoos faded into blue and the hovering objects clattered to the floor. Maya felt changed. Her orgasms had subtly altered her perceptions, forced her senses to climb higher as they tried to keep pace with the ecstasy they'd built together. It was a rush that echoed the first manifestation of her powers. Maya flexed her tattooed hand, feeling the power there, on that new level. She looked up. Axton was watching her hand with a slightly worried arch to his brow. It made the rank insignia implanted there wrinkle. It was cute. She hooked her finger at him. "Time for bed," she said. Sleep did not last long. Maya was prodded awake by Axton's shaft. It was towering and hard, digging into her back. Maya slid down the bed, drawing the sheets back to admire Axton's cock. It was such a strange thing to make her feel so good. But it hadn't all been enlightenment. Maya's burst of satori - revelation - had come at the peak of orgasm, but not every orgasm had been satori. All the rest of it had just been... damned fun. "Well, hello," Axton said groggily when Maya woke him. "Stand up," she commanded. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Axton rolled out of bed and stood at attention, snapping his hand smartly to his brow. Maya giggled. She couldn't help it. Axton could be funny. And it was fun to be in control. Not the iron hand that the brothers of the Impending Storm had taught her, but control given to her by Axton. If he was going to put himself in her hands, Maya decided to take good care of him. The Siren sat up on the edge of the bed and closed her lips around Axton's dick. She could taste herself on him. Her juices mingled with his on his skin, creating a flavor that was theirs. Gaige had been free with the technical details of her fucking, but hadn't spoken about the feelings. And yet, still she had decided that Axton was better than her mechanical dildos, that he was her new toy. Maya decided that Axton was hers now, too. Maya's tongue stroked Axton as she swallowed him. Gaige's technical viewpoint had at least provided a blueprint for the how-to of sucking dick. Her lips sucked gently at him, her tongue licked him up and down, not neglecting his tightening scrotum. Her hand stroked his shaft firmly and her fingers dug into his flanks. Axton's breathing grew heavier and his cock hotter. Maya had spent more time exploring the feelings and sensation she had experienced and not so much paying attention to what he was feeling. Was she going to make him cum again? "What do I do?" she asked. Maya's lips shined wetly and a glistening strand of saliva bridged the space between her mouth and Axton's flushed cock. Her pale hand slipped up and down his wet shaft. "Stand in front of this," Axton said. He gestured down and Maya slipped off the bed to kneel in front of Axton. She was just in time to catch the first jet of semen against her chest. Her brows shot up at the pleasant feel of slick sperm on her skin. Maya's hand tightened and sped on his hard length. Axton grunted with each pulse of jizz as Maya milked his load out onto her tits. She pulled her shoulders back to offer her perky breasts up as his target and the commando delivered. Axton sprayed a dozen thick spurts of warm spunk across her chest, painting both of Maya's soft breasts in a thick layer of cum. * * * Axton staggered back from the shower feeling pleasantly drained. Maya had left - finally - but promised that she would be back for more. Maybe it was the whole freaky worshipped-by-a-whole-planet Siren thing, but it sounded kind of like a threat to Axton. And who knew how long until the mechromancer needed servicing, too? The commando tossed his towel onto the bed and reached down to the worn desk sitting next to it. His Saber SDU sat on top of the desk, a pink bow tied neatly around it. "Well, aren't you beautiful?" Axton said. He smiled. There was a knock at the door and Axton quickly checked to make sure he was decent this time. He was wearing his fatigue pants, at least. "Yeah?" he answer. The door opened and a curvaceous silhouette stepped through. Moxxxi leaned against the door rame and raked Axton's naked chest with a predatory gaze. "I've just been talking to Maya," she said. "The rumors are flying, soldier boy. But I was hoping I could get your... input." Moxxxi shifted just enough to set her large round tits jiggling. She winked. Axton was a soldier. He knew the realities of battle. Blowing stuff up was fun, but death was a soldier's constant companion. Bandits, skags, Hyperion... Pandora was a big dry ball of death. Axton just never figured it would be the women who would be the death of him. "Reporting for duty, ma'am," he said with a grin.