6 comments/ 30651 views/ 0 favorites Dance of Days Ch. 02 By: Goldeniangel Tuesday's child is full of grace. Daria spun gracefully, her arms arched over her head with one leg bent and toe pointed at her knee before jumping forward and joining Alan in a long line of leaps across the stage. Coming together they pressed their hands together with one leg trailing behind them, walked in a circle and then pulled away before she stepped in front of him and he bent her backwards, lowering her arched body until her arm was draped onto the floor the same way her legs were. They held the pose for a moment before he pulled her up and she giggled as he held her close. "The dance is over," she reminded him, playfully pushing him away. "I know," he grinned at her, "But can you blame me for being... inspired?" Waggling his eyebrows at her lasciviously he ran his eyes over her slight body. Daria really was beautiful, and he loved to dance with her... and he'd really like to do so much more but he'd never known her to have any kind of relationship beyond friendship with one of her dance partners. Flaunting her hips at him she started the steps to one of the more provocative parts of their routine, shimmying and twisting, her long legs gracefully leaping and spreading. Watching her expressive and flowing movements he could feel his groin tightening, and he had to fight the sensation... dancer's tights weren't really ideal for concealing a hard-on. Throwing in a few moves of her own, she spun and leaped until she was in front of him and suddenly the back of her body was pressing against his, her head leaning back onto his shoulder as she rolled down. Raising her arms above her head she put them around the back of his neck and then dragged them down his shoulders and chest as she lowered herself, plie-ing until her head reached his belly and then raising herself up again. Alan stifled a groan as her body rubbed against his, her small but firm ass pressing against his partially hard dick... he kept his hands at his sides, not trusting himself . Turning to look up at him, Daria pursed her lips, "Come on Alan, how much more oobvious do I have to be?" Completely dumbfounded he looked down at her pretty face, the serious and playful look that filled her dark eyes; they filled with laughter as he stared at her and she went up on tip toes to kiss him. Her lips caressed his and he pressed down against her, bringing his hand up to cup her face gently as the kiss deepened. Still unbelieving, he waited until she made the next move, her hands sliding under the tank top that he was wearing and pulling it over his head. As she began kissing down his chest he moaned and looked down at where her lips were teasing his nipple. "I thought you didn't have relations with your dance partners," he said hoarsely, his dick was aching in its confinement, but he didn't want to do anything that would cause her to dislike him. Coming back up to look at him in the face she told him, "I haven't before, but that doesn't mean I don't. And I've liked you for a really long time... but you never put the moves on me and someone told me you actually believed that I didn't date my partners." "Well, no one's ever known you to do it before," he admitted, "So I thought it was just something you didn't do." Smiling she kissed him lightly again, "I just haven't been interested in any of them before. I'm interested in you." "Oh I am definitely interested in you," he breathed, and this time it was him who initiated the kiss and she smiled in delight as his lips lowered. Passionately they kissed, his hands sliding down her back and pulling her close to him. "Would you like to go to my place?" she whispered, and his heart (and his dick) leapt in excitement. Daria glanced around the workout room with its hard wooden floors, the exercise bar and all the mirrors, "The mirrors here are nice, but it doesn't look to comfortable." Alan laughed and they shouldered their bags, walking out holding hands. ************************************ When they reached Daria's house the first thing they did was hit the shower... caressing and kissing they undressed each other. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her naked for the first time, perfectly shaped with small but firm curves and a small patch of hair on her mound. Kissing from her belly to her nipples, her skin was salty against his tongue. She moaned as he sucked on her nipple, taking his head in her hands and pulling him up for a kiss on the lips, saying, "Let's get clean before starting any of that." It was the most sensuous shower he'd ever taken, they kissed and pressed against each other in the hot water, soaping their bodies and hair together. On the pretense of making sure all the soap was off, he ran his hands all over her slick body, squeezing gently whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot. Kissing as the water pounded down on them, she felt fantastic, sliding against his body in the most erotic way. They got out of the shower, eager and dripping, toweling each other off and teasing... Alan even managed to slide his tongue along her wet slit as he toweled off her legs. Daria moaned and returned the favor by licking the head of his very hard dick, just enough to tease but not putting any real pressure on it. Kissing again they headed into the bedroom where she disengaged and went to leap on the bed, posing provocatively... even just crawling onto a bed she was incredibly elegant, every movement as graceful as when she danced. Her long legs spread as he began kissing from her toes up to her hips, up to her breasts and finally at her lips; he was kneeling between her thighs, his hands caressing her breasts as their tongues twined. Running her own hands over his muscled shoulders, she pulled him further down on top of herself so that she could feel his dick pressing against her hip. Pushing him off of her for a moment she pulled her long legs up so that they were on either of his shoulders, her body bent nearly in half; he kissed her ankles, sliding his hands in a long caress down her thighs to her ass. Pulling her hips towards him he lined up his dick with her pussy hole, it was wet and slick and he felt his dick throb as he began to push in. "Ohhhh... yes Alan!" she moaned as his dick began its erotic slide into her wet hole, her muscles clasped and massaged him as he pressed deeper, gasping at her tight slickness. As he buried himself inside her she wriggled underneath him and arched her back, pressing her breasts up into the air. Leaning forward he sucked one nipple into his mouth as he began to thrust, pumping in and out of her body while he suckled at her breast. Her own slim fingers reached down to toy with his little nipples, pinching them gently and he groaned as the sensations went straight to his aching dick. It was incredibly hard not to just cum in that incredible velvet sheath, not to just lose control... he went slowly, carefully, making sure that he never reached the point of no return. Daria deserved better than that and he was going to give it to her. Grinding his hips against her, he would rest from his thrusts by rubbing his groin on hers, stimulating her clit and making her pussy clasp him even tighter. Her whole body was so amazingly muscled he probably shouldn't have been surprised at the elasticity of her pussy and the fantastic way it caressed him, but he was. Groaning, he tried to control himself as her pussy rippled around him, massaging his entire shaft. Pulling his head down for a kiss Daria whispered to him, "You can go harder... I'm close..." and her lips locked with his as his hips began to thrust roughly, making her body shudder underneath his. Wrapping his arms under her shoulders he had her bent nearly in two as he pumped and grinded against her, ramming hard and fast until her mouth opened under his and she let out a cry. Her pussy gripped him its hardest yet, convulsing around him in ecstacy and sucking him deeper into her body; with one final thrust he came, emptying himself into that fantastic pussy that milked him for all he was worth. They passed the finish line together, breathless and ecstatic, until he lay on top of her, her legs sliding down either side of them. Tired, but content, Daria nuzzled his ear, "Wanna spend the night?" "Only if I can make you breakfast tomorrow morning," he kissed her and her eyes lit up. Dance of Days Ch. 03 WEDNESDAY'S CHILD IS FULL OF WOE: I awoke, or maybe I should say came to, with my whole body in pain. My wife of three days had seemingly changed overnight. My first wife after ten good years of marriage had thrown me out of the house after discovering my affair with Irene. Loving Irene, after telling her, she held me close and told me she would take away my pain and that she would be there for me. Irene warned me that my wife would become vindictive and would want to strip me of all my possessions. She hatched an ingenious plan; if I put everything I had into her name, my wife couldn't touch it. The plan worked perfectly, the court could not locate any of my assets, and with the assets my wife possessed I wouldn't even be required to pay alimony. As soon as my divorce was final, Irene and I married. She told me she only wanted to honeymoon in our bedroom and I couldn't think of a better place to start our marriage. The first two days were the happiest days of my life. My first wife thought sex was a filthy habit and said once a month with the lights off was more than she could stand. Irene thought we should fuck all day and only stop when we were too sore to go on. Then on the third day she informed me, she was already bored with my 'teeny weenie' as she called it and wanted to bring in someone else to share our marriage bed. "I thought you loved me, how can you say those things about me. There's no way I'll accept another man in our bed." As I wept in our bed like a little boy Irene stroked my head and told me not to worry everything would be OK. "I'll go make us some martinis and we can fuck some more." I was already woozy after the first drink but I'm really not much of a drinker so I didn't think much about it. Irene must have put something in my drink because I kept going from reality to a dream like state all day. When the other man showed up I was so spaced I didn't even care. I watched as if in a dream as he caressed my wife's naked body taking any liberties he felt like. I remember them putting me in a chair close to the bed so I could see this man take my wife. He was so aggressive with her and with her screaming I was sure he was hurting her but then I realized she was screaming for more and for him to keep fucking her. I must have passed out for when I awoke I was strapped to the bed with some kind of a ball secured in my mouth. When Irene came back into the bedroom, she smiled and said she was glad to see me awake. "I want to have some fun with you and I want you to be able to feel it." Irene took hold of my penis and that is when I realized it was encased in some kind of devise. Irene told me it was a chastity devise that I would be wearing until she felt like unlocking it. She took it off and held my penis as she poured lotion on it. She began playing with me, "I want you to come for me David, in my hand. I want to feel your seed, come on be a good boy." I didn't want to but I couldn't stop, as she looked me in the eye I spurted into her hand. "I should have known with those little marbles of yours you wouldn't be able to even fill a thimble. David I'm going to make you my cum boy, you will be eating all the cum I collect from my lovers. Here take a taste of yours." She dabbled her finger in the palm of her hand and spread it under my nose. I was thinking with the gag in my mouth she at least couldn't put any in my mouth. "I bet you think your new ball gag is keeping you from getting a taste, but what you can't see is the hole in the center. That's what this little funnel is for see." I could feel the tip of the funnel hit my tongue as she pushed it through the gag. I felt the cum on my tongue before I tasted it, I started retch but when I realized I might choke in my own vomit I controlled it. Next, she picked up a condom full of her lover's cum and let it empty into the funnel. I choked and almost swooned but I managed to swallow it all. Irene then took the dirty condom and put on my penis, then locked me back into my cage. Irene unstrapped one leg, brought it up over my head, and then did the same to the other leg. I tried to resist but I was too weak to stop her. She stepped into the bathroom and when she returned, she had some kind of harness with a huge phallic shape attached to it. I kept shaking my head as I watched her obscenely rub lube all over it next; she violated my rectum with her lube-covered finger. The pain was so intense when she entered me with her strap-on, as she called it, I was sure my sphincter was torn beyond repair. Irene looked into my eyes as she brutally assaulted my back door. "I want you to know I'm the one who told your ex-wife about us, as we made love in your bed. I used this same dildo on her as I told her about you and me. I think she was more hurt that I had betrayed her than of you having an affair." I was in too much pain to be shocked but I kept asking myself how I could be so wrong when it came to picking women. My first wife a lesbian and my second wife a sadist and yet I thought both to be loving women. This brings my tale back to waking on that fourth day. I didn't know where Irene was but was glad she wasn't here. I didn't even shower; I just threw a few things into a bag and fled. I drove around not knowing where to go but somehow I ended up at my first wife's house, as I pulled around the corner the first thing I saw was Irene's car in the drive way. I parked down the street and snuck back to peak in a window. I found them in the bedroom, my first wife, my second wife, and her lover all in my old bed making love. I reached for my penis, and then realized I was still locked in my cage and I could see the key around Irene's neck. Not only were all my possessions in her name she even had control of my penis. It was then that I understood that I was to become Irene's love slave. I meekly drove home and awaited Irene's return. Dance of Days Ch. 04 "Thursday's child has far to go..." Chloe Zanders cranked the volume on her Durango's stereo and rolled down the windows. Fargo-freakin'-North Dakota, she thought, and smiled a bemused smile. The air traveling in through the open window was cool while the sun beating through the windshield was hot. It was late afternoon in the month of August and Chloe Zanders of Seattle, Washington was on her way to Fargo, North Dakota. "Where are you going?" her boss had asked when Chloe put in for vacation time. "I don't know Bill, somewhere." "You don't know where you're going? You're just going to hang around Seattle all week?" Chloe ran a distracted hand through her hair. She blew a stray, auburn curl off her forehead with a frustrated sigh and asked, "Why do I need a destination? I mean, really? And so what if I stay at home!" she added, slightly annoyed at his line of questioning. "It's just that you haven't had a vacation in two years, Chloe. God knows I've been trying to get you to take one, but you've always refused," her boss said gently as he looked at her over the rim of his out-of-date glasses. "And then you come in here out of the blue and tell me you're taking time off. Well, I think you should enjoy it. Go somewhere. Do something. Be young, Chloe," he said paternally. Chloe sighed. Be young, he'd said, as if somehow she were acting geriatric. Okay, she conceded, he had a point. She'd been working herself hard the past five years trying to get a foothold in her profession; her hard work had gotten her a decent job with a good boss —but absolutely no social life. It wasn't that she was bored, really, just ...restless. She'd been too busy working part-time and going to school for a social life in college and grad school. Once she'd started her job she'd been so focused on moving up the corporate ladder she'd completely neglected her social one. Chloe wanted to experience something new. She wanted to get away. She wanted to find herself. Find myself, she rolled her eyes at the thought as she stared out over miles and miles of grassland. What a worn-out cliché. She smiled sardonically while she thumped her palm on the steering wheel in time to the music. She was listening to music that was popular when she'd been too young to appreciate it. Hell, she'd barely been old enough to walk! Still, she liked the driving beat and classic sounds of 70's rock. "Slow ride," Chloe sang to the music, "Take it easy." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed in the rearview mirror an approaching motorcycle. She'd seen a lot of them on the road between here and Seattle, but hadn't yet seen one, solitary biker; they usually seemed to ride in packs. Considering the wide open spaces and less-traveled roads of the West, she could understand why riding through it on the back of a bike attracted the riders in droves. She kept her speed constant with her foot on the gas pedal and watched as the motorcycle slowly ate up the distance between her vehicle and his. As he pulled out to pass her, Chloe couldn't help but notice the sleek lines of his bike, all polished chrome and black metal paint. Sweet ride, she thought, and continued to scope the bike with her coffee-colored eyes. She couldn't help but notice the driver as well, though he came into focus slightly slower than the bike. She let her eyes trail up his boot-clad calves to his thick, leathered-covered thighs. Thick thighs. Yummy thighs, she thought, the kind a woman could ride like he's riding that bike. He wore a tight, white t-shirt and a black leather vest over a chest that was just as thick as his thighs. His arms were tanned and muscular, and she could just see the faint design of a Celtic tattoo encircling his upper arm. As the biker pulled up beside her Chloe did something she'd normally never do: she sped up. She didn't want to lose sight of this biker just yet, she hadn't seen enough. The biker turned to look at her, his eyes covered by black sunglasses. Chloe sucked in an appreciative breath; his face was square and tanned, and from what she could see, he seemed quite attractive. He had dark hair with the faintest trace of silver threading through it and a goatee that was slightly grayer than the gray in his hair. Chloe wondered what color his eyes would be. Blue? Green? Chloe smiled at the biker and pulled her foot off the gas. In the split-second before he pulled away, he gave her the faintest, approving nod, then sped off down the road. Mmm mmm mmm, Chloe thought. Now that would be one sweet ride —and she wasn't thinking about the bike, either. One hour and an empty gas tank later, Chloe pulled into a truck stop outside of Fargo, North Dakota. As she pulled up next to fueling kiosk, she noticed a bike parked on the opposite side. Nah, can't be, she thought, though she studied the bike intently. She put the SUV into park and got out and stretched muscles that were sore from sitting too long. She studied the bike from the corner of her eye, but without the accompanying rider present she couldn't be certain if it was the same bike she'd seen earlier out on the highway. Too bad, Chloe thought. She had a sweet tooth when it came to eye candy, and he was definitely sweet. She turned her back to the bike and bent over the driver's seat to rummage around in the cab for her wallet. It must have slid under the seat, she thought, when she couldn't find it anywhere else. She stretched out over the seat and reached under the passenger side stool, her bottom wiggling in the air for all and sundry to see. "Aha!" she mumbled when her fingers ticked against the soft, leather casing. She extricated it -and herself- from the vehicle and turned towards the pump. "Howdy." Chloe stopped dead in her tracks. It was him! Her cheeks warmed tellingly as she was flooded with guilt and embarrassment for behavior out on the highway. She cleared her throat and glanced away from his knowing gaze. So they're silver, she thought, thinking of his eyes as she pushed her wind-blown hair off her forehead. It just figures everything about this man would be black and gray, an amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She turned to him then with a sheepish grin, "Hi there." He smiled, and she realized his eyes were lit with recognition and humor, and something else ...appreciation? Chloe admonished herself not to preen. Down girl, down! she thought. He started fiddling with the laces on his saddle bags so Chloe turned to her truck and started filling up her tank with gas. Dayum! she thought, That has got to be one of the most purely masculine men I've ever seen! Chloe bit her lip and studied him from beneath her lashes. She didn't know what it was, but this man exuded a kind of raw sex appeal that set her very feminine nerves on fire just from watching him. He moved deliberately and gracefully, the tendons in his forearms flexing and relaxing as he checked over his bike. The waning light of late afternoon caught each nuance of muscle and sinew, as well as the silvery highlights in his hair. Although he was older than Chloe, it was hard for her to determine his age. He's like Sean Connery, she thought, this guy's going to be sexy 'till the day he dies! Just then the man looked up and caught Chloe staring. Before her glance skittered away, she saw him smile again, flashing his white teeth and a pair of deep dimples in either cheek. Good Lord, Chloe thought. Get a grip already, woman! 'Getting a grip' was not about to happen, however, as just then the man bent over his bike to check something on the opposite side and Chloe's mouth dropped open in blatant feminine appreciation. His ass was perfect. His jeans pulled snugly over a rear that was tight, a rear that was muscled and well-defined, a rear with enough meat on it that a woman could really grab hold when the thrusting got intense. The click from the pump signaling the tank was full snapped Chloe out of her reverie. She turned, reluctantly, and tended to her vehicle. She could still hear him fiddling around with his bike and felt loathe to see him go. When she turned around she was surprised to find the handsome stranger's eyes following the movement of her body. Her nipples pulled tight under her tank top at his perusal and Chloe stumbled inadvertently. His eyes shot to hers and he grinned. Chloe blushed. Christ, I might as well tattoo ´Fuck Me' on my forehead! she thought, embarrassed at her adolescent-like slip up. This is silly, she ranted in her head, I'm a grown woman. Educated. If not sophisticated then certainly house-trained. What the hell is my problem? One look from a sexy stranger and I get tongue tied. "Where're you headed?" she surprised herself by asking suddenly. The man leaned back against his bike as if he had all the time in the world to answer her question and folded his arms across his expansive chest. "Sturgis," he replied. A flicker of recognition spread over Chloe's features. "Oh, the bike rally thing?" she asked. "Yeah," he let his gaze drip down over her body like a slow-melting ice cube. Drip. Drip. Drip. Chloe fought the urge to squirm. Instead she pushed her palms into the back pockets of her faded jeans. The muscles lining the man's throat work tellingly as his eyes fastened on Chloe's ample breasts and curvy hips. Chloe smiled with satisfaction. "Your Harley's a beauty" she opined, nodding towards his bike. "Yeah, it's a smooth ride. It's a Road King, set up for long rides." Chloe warmed to the note of pride in his voice. He obviously liked his bike, but he spoke of it in a way that was neither arrogant nor showy. "So 've you got far to go?" he asked with a glance to her out-of-state plates. Chloe's heart thumped hard in her chest. What would he do if she told him she was on her way to Sturgis, too? Nah, I can't do that. Chloe thought, though she eyed him hungrily. She schooled her features and shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. "Not far." She licked her lips slowly and met his stare directly. "It all depends on the destination." A slow, lazy smile crept up over the man's features and his eyes sparkled dangerously. Chloe's insides somersaulted at his expression. He jerked his chin towards his bike and asked, "You wanna ride?" Chloe smiled. HELL YES! her mind screamed, but she answered Mr. Harley with a simple, husky "Yeah." It was far past the time for Chloe live a little, sew a wild oat or two, be young for Christ's sake. Why the hell not?! she mused. "Let's go then." His voice sent delicious quivers of anticipation down Chloe's spine. Chloe finished her credit card transaction at the pump while her handsome stranger mounted his bike. She nearly tripped again while ogling the way his jeans pulled tightly over his thighs as he adjusted himself on the seat of the bike. Drool! Chloe thought. She parked her SUV on the far side of the lot near the semi-trucks and grabbed her jacket before stepping out of the vehicle. The loud, throbbing noise of the Harley nearly deafened her at the same time its vibrations tickled her toes on the pavement. "Get on," he spoke above the noise of the engine. Chloe didn't need a second invitation. She slipped her arms into her jacket and straddled the machine with all the finesse of an expert. Thank God I didn't trip again, she thought, as the man slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Once out on the highway he gunned the engine, making the bike shoot off down the highway with alarming speed. Chloe screamed, a little startled at the unexpected throttle, and instinctively wrapped her arms around the man's waist. She felt his chest rumble with laughter, laughter which she echoed. Chloe had no idea where they were going, and for the first time in her life she didn't care. All she cared about was the way the wind whipped through her hair and stung her cheeks, and the way this man's warm, undeniably masculine body felt pressed up against her own, feminine one. The sun dipped low on the horizon as the pair continued down the deserted two-lane highway. Chloe marveled at the gloaming time of night, at the way the sun kissed everything in its path and gilded it with warm, soft color. She inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with the scent of the grasslands they rode through and the leather from the clothing the man in front of her wore. The bike felt like a living thing between her thighs. The vibrations of the motor traveled up her calves and thighs to her inner femininity, reminding her that she was indeed a sexual creature, and she was embarking on something dangerous and fun. He could be taking me out to the hills to rape me, she thought, then grinned. Well, it wouldn't be rape, exactly... She leaned her cheek onto his shoulder blade and scooted a little closer to him on the bike. She was surprised when he seemed to push back into her, bumping her practically exposed clitoris with his buttocks. Chloe tensed, startled. She relaxed when she felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest again, which caused her cheeks warm. He'd done it on purpose! Two can play that game, Chloe thought. She loosed her hands from around his waist and let them slide slowly down the tops of his thighs while she pushed the plump mounds of her breasts into his back. She was rewarded with a quickly indrawn breath, but wasn't given a chance to gloat for long: He grabbed one of her hands that was skimming his thigh and dragged it towards the apex of his thighs. Chloe gasped and tugged her hand free before she'd come into contact with the bulge she was well aware lay nestled there. This time she heard him laugh out loud above the roar of the bike. He took her hand again, and tucked it firmly around his waist, giving it a "good girl" pat when she held tightly and refrained from letting her hands wander again. After another twenty minutes of open road the man slowed the bike to make a sharp, right-hand turn. Chloe noticed a small bluff of sandstone and guessed that would be their destination. Her heart accelerated exponentially as the bike decelerated. By the time they pulled up to the bluff, Chloe was breathless. She could barely take in the tumbled boulders or the grassy knoll leading up to the small cliff. "You first," he said, after killing the engine. Chloe was hesitant. Would he dump her here in the middle of nowhere and take off like a bat out of hell? Don't be silly, she admonished herself, and then realized he wanted her to get off first so he could hold the bike steady. He'd even scooted up on the gas tank more to give her room. Chloe inched her way off the bike. It wasn't exactly a graceful dismount, but he didn't seem to notice. Chloe waited uncertainly while he swung his leg over the bike and put down the kick stand. She watched as he scanned his bike quickly, then turned those silver-gray eyes on her. Chloe squirmed. She blushed and looked away, then looked back and bit her lip uncertainly. His lips twitched in a predatory smile. He started walking towards her then, purposeful strides, as if he were stalking her. Chloe gulped and fought the urge to step back. Instead she held her ground, hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans like earlier. He stopped in front of her, mere inches away, definitely invading her personal comfort zone. Chloe gulped and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "What's your name, girl?" his tone was quiet and deep, his eyes searching hers. "Is it important?" Chloe asked softly. "I'm Patri—" Chloe cut him off by placing the pad of her index finger against his lips. The physical contact of her flesh to his sent a jolt through her arm and down her body. Her nipples tightened painfully in awareness while a steady stream of warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach. "Shhh," she shushed him. Then lifted her lips to his, removed her finger and closed her eyes. Chloe may have been the initiator of the kiss, but she was definitely not the one who took control. That fact became crystal clear as the man she could only surmise was named "Patrick" molded his lips to hers. His kiss was fierce and demanding. His lips slid over hers in a manner Chloe could only describe as possessive. It sent a secret little thrill of pleasure straight to the apex of her thighs and made her groan, audibly. Patrick threaded his fingers through Chloe's hair and tugged her closer, melding his body to hers while he plundered the sweet, soft lips she'd willingly proffered him. Chloe trembled as she strove to meet him kiss for kiss. She gasped when he thrust his hips into her body and she felt the proof of his arousal. She broke away from his kiss, startled, only to look up and see that same mixture of humor and arousal in his silver-gray eyes she'd noticed earlier. When his mouth quirked up in a slow, sexy grin, and his eyebrow lifted in challenge, Chloe did the only thing she could think of: She reached out with the palm of her small hand and caressed the leather-encased bulge at his groin. The man groaned and momentarily closed his eyes. Chloe grinned in feminine triumph. It was a game of chase, and Chloe had just tagged him "it". She hadn't long to wait for retribution; when Patrick opened his eyes they seemed darker, more dangerous, lit from within by an eternal, primitive desire. He grabbed Chloe's hand and pressed it tighter to his arousal while grinding against her palm. Chloe sucked a startled breath and watched, mesmerized, at the way his hips thrust wantonly as his cock swelled beneath the leather. Oh Lord, she thought, imagining that cock thrusting between her legs. She bit her lip tellingly and pressed her hand harder against him. She was rewarded with sexy little chuckle, then his hands threaded through her hair again and he drew her face upwards for his kiss. This time the kiss was no less intense, but slightly softer. He nibbled at her lips until she opened them, then plunged his tongue in to mate with hers. Chloe felt her knees weaken at the double assault of his sensuous mouth sliding over hers and his leather-clad cock bumping against her palm. When he slid his lips from hers and trailed damp, heated kisses across her jaw, Chloe waited expectantly; she was not disappointed when his lips found the sensitive spot on the side of her neck that always made her horny as hell. She moaned softly into the quiet, prairie air and forgot, momentarily, about anything other than this man's lips seductively plundering her inhibitions. Her skin felt oversensitive as she turned her head to the side, allowing him greater access to the long, pale column of her throat. She was rewarded with a little nip and a playful suckle; Chloe found herself sliding her palms up to grasp his arms, hanging on for support lest she fall down from his sensual onslaught. The man pulled his lips away from her neck long enough to ask with a note of challenge in his voice, "You're not going to let me win so easily, are you little one?" Chloe chuckled and rose to the bait; she slipped her hands under the flaps of his vest and pushed it off over his broad shoulders. She watched her hands smooth over his hard, muscular frame until the vest fell with a plop onto the ground. Then, biting her lip in concentration while not quite meeting his eyes with her own, she slid her hands up under his t-shirt. She smiled at the pleasing sensation of his warm, firm flesh beneath her fingertips. She slid her palms up over his abdomen, over the hard, defined lines of his chest, she pushed his t-shirt up until she could push it up no more because of his height. She looked at him then, asking him for help with her eyes. He smiled in understanding and grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it off over his head. Dance of Days Ch. 04 Wow, Chloe thought, as she stood there ogling this biker man from heaven. Incredible. Her thoughts tumbled over each other as she took in his body, naked from the waist up, clad only in leather from the waist down. She licked her lips in anticipation. I could just eat him up, she thought, her cheeks warming with a combination of embarrassment and lust. Chloe didn't have long to become accommodated to his near-naked state. Her eyes opened in surprise as his fingers fell to the fastenings of his pants and began to unzip. For each inch that he zipped down, Chloe's eyebrows shot up. She watched, panting breathlessly, as his pubic hair was revealed, then the swollen root of his cock. Her eyes flashed to his. He didn't wear underwear?! He wore a triumphant smile, Chloe noticed as her eyes met his. Oooh, she thought, he's playing with me. Lowering her brows and donning a determined expression, Chloe decided to up the ante. She shrugged out of her jacket then, perhaps with more haste than grace, but she wanted to get to her tank top and bra underneath. She met the man's eyes then, but noticed from her peripheral vision that his hands seemed to be playing in the general area of his groin. She fought the urge to look down and see if his cock was exposed. Instead, she ripped her tank top off in one surprisingly fluid motion and watched the man drink in her near-naked body. She grinned and reached for the clasp of her bra behind her back. "Go for it, girl," he encouraged her, and Chloe did just that. With nimble fingers she unhooked her bra and slid it down her pale, slim shoulders. Her nipples were so tight and aroused it was almost painful. The added sensation of cooler, evening air didn't help. Chloe let the bra drop to the ground just as the man groaned audibly and reached out to cover her breasts with large, tanned hands. He wasted no time with subtlety; instead he grabbed each considerable breast in his hands and squeezed. His fingers played about her nipples, pinching them slightly before his head dipped in for a sensual suckle at the pointed tip. Chloe moaned and arched her back instinctively, thrusting more of her breast into his mouth. He rewarded her by moving to the opposite nipple to suckle it the same way as he had the first. Chloe felt the juncture between her thighs moisten considerably. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy as Patrick continued to lave them expertly with his tongue. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him to her breast as she fought to stay upright under his sensual assault. She tensed only slightly when she felt his hand slide down her waist and hip, then across her thigh to nestle possessively over her jean-covered mound. He rubbed the heel of his palm against her clit and Chloe moaned, thrusting her hips into him. He chuckled in response, removing his lips from her breasts only to place them at her lips. He kissed her deeply then, his tongue sliding into her mouth as his hand continued to rub delicious circles over her covered clitoris. Chloe moaned in frustration; Patrick chuckled in reply. Chloe then decided to treat him to a bit of the fire he'd lit in her, so she let her palms slide down his abdomen with unerring aim to his groin. She gasped when her palm bumped against his raging, erect penis before encircling it with her hand. Startled, she broke the kiss to look down between their bodies. Though Patrick's cock was average in length, she was surprised to see it was not average in girth; in fact, it was almost twice as thick as any cock she'd ever seen. She looked in fascination at how tiny her hand looked holding his cock, her fingers not even touching. Just then she felt Patrick's hands on her shoulders, encouraging her to kneel in front of him. Chloe licked her lips in anticipation and acquiesced most gracefully. On her knees in front of him, Chloe could smell the heady scent of his sex mingled with the leather and the fresh prairie air. Her toes curled in delight as she studied his shaft, noticing one thick, long vein running down the entire length of it. Chloe reached out with her tongue and traced its path, causing the man to groan and push his fingers into her tumbled curls. "Oh yeah," she heard him mumble quietly just before she took the thick, swollen head into her watering mouth. He sucked an appreciative breath then thrust his hips forward, pushing his cock further into Chloe's mouth. She was unprepared to take his length and nearly gagged, but quickly recovered, a shot of pure animal lust driving her to clamp down on his dick with a hard, punishing suckle. "Aww fuck," she heard him say. "Fuck!" Chloe suckled hard, her small hand sliding to the base of his cock to hold it steady. The man tightened his hold in her hair and started thrusting his hips forward, effectively fucking her little mouth as she sucked him if not with experience, then certainly with lust. Chloe felt his balls bounce off her chin as he thrust against her tongue, causing incredible heat to erupt between her legs. With one hand she reached down between her thighs and rubbed her clitoris soothingly, while with the other she struggled to hang on to his thick, meaty member. "Fuck," she heard him say again, just before he withdrew his cock quickly from her mouth and sucked in air through his teeth. "Jesus little girl, you damn near got a mouthful," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "Funny," Chloe said breathlessly, "It felt like a mouthful to me." She glanced at his cock meaningfully. That seemed to incite Patrick to a new level of lust. He growled deep in his throat and grabbed Chloe by the arms, pulling her upward. He pushed his tongue past her lips and took her in a kiss that promised more to come. Then he slipped his arm beneath her knees and picked her up, kissing her as he walked a few paces nearer the cliff. He deposited her just in front of a large boulder, then dove for the fly of her jeans. Chloe accommodated him best she could as he slid the cotton down over her full, curvy hips, revealing her red thong in the process. She kicked off her sandals and stepped out of her jeans, then reached for her thong. Patrick stopped her with his hand on hers, "No, leave it on," he said, his eyes hooded and dark. He pushed her back against the boulder then until her hips rested against its smooth, slightly cool surface. Then he fell to his knees and lifted one of her legs on top of his shoulder. Chloe felt her pussy quiver in anticipation. She wasn't prepared for the expert handling she was about to receive, however. This guy's got skills, she thought dazedly, as seconds later he pushed the fabric of her thong aside and licked unerringly at the hard little nub of her clit. Chloe moaned and thrust her hips forward. He continued the assault, sucking to the point that Chloe thought she would explode, only to back off and wait while she calmed down. He brought her to the brink time and time again, only to stop before her release could come crashing over her. Chloe moaned in frustration only to be rewarded by that damnable, deep chuckle of amusement. Just when Chloe was frustrated enough to grab his head and forcibly hold him to her aching pussy, he pulled away and stood. Chloe's eyes immediately fastened on his cock like a starving woman in need of some serious meat. "Turn over," he commanded softly, and Chloe surprised herself by obeying. In two quick seconds she felt him step behind her, push her thong to the side, grab her hips and drive his cock into her with one, forceful thrust. Chloe nearly came from the pressure of his thick member filling her to overflowing. He gave her a few seconds to adjust before he pulled out of her completely, only to thrust back into her, burying himself to the hilt. Just as his balls had bounced against her chin earlier, she now felt them bouncing against the pouting lips of her pussy. Chloe moaned appreciatively. "You'd best hang on," she heard him speak in that deep, raspy voice. "The ride's about to get bumpy, darlin'." He started fucking her in force then, his cock slipping in and out of her saturated pussy with precision and expertise the likes of which Chloe had never before experienced. He grabbed her ass and drove himself into her again and again, his cock doing delicious things to Chloe's insides. He fucked her so hard she had to hang on to the boulder to keep from slipping, her breasts bouncing wildly and occasionally scraping against the cool surface of the stone. "Oh fuck!" she was surprised to hear herself murmur. She glanced down and her pussy clenched considerably when she realized he still wore his boots and leather pants. "You'd better get ready, woman," she heard him grunt at the added pressure of her clenching muscles, and then she felt him pouring into her, his ejaculate streaming into her womb and beyond. He groaned, buried himself to the hilt, then let his semen pulse into her with rhythmic surges. That's all it took for Chloe. Her pussy tightened even more as she gave herself over the orgasm he'd denied her previously. She moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the cliff mere feet away to bounce around and envelope them in a sultry cocoon. She closed her eyes and fell against the boulder at the same time he fell against her back, both of them completely spent. She shivered tellingly when she felt his teeth bite her neck softly, marking her as his, even if only for this moment. Then she felt him recede, pulling his semi-hard cock from her body. Chloe smiled. She felt completely, utterly, wonderfully satisfied ...and young. The restless feeling she'd been fighting for the past few months seemed to have disappeared. She giggled and stood. When she turned she could see an answering smile on his face and a slight question in his eyes. She didn't have the words to explain, so she shrugged instead, and adjusted her thong back over her privates. They dressed quickly, each stealing furtive glances at the other. Chloe wanted to memorize every detail of his body to use for future reference; she had no doubt she'd be fantasizing about him when she lay back on her bed, fingers busily working at her clit and pussy, remembering this sexy biker and the fuck they'd shared out here on the open prairies. Forty five minutes later with the sun well and truly set behind the horizon they pulled into the parking lot of the truck stop. With her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed up against his shoulder, Chloe inhaled one last time of the heady scent of leather and prairie and sex. She dismounted then, and thrust her hands in her back pockets before turning to look at the man. He studied her with those sexy silver-gray eyes, a touch of a smile playing about his lips. What words could she say to him? Chloe had no idea. Instead she stepped to him and pressed her lips to his impulsively, bestowing on him a kiss that spoke more than any words ever could have. The kiss ended slowly, each breaking away with reluctance tempered by resignation. He gunned the motor then, gave her one last sexy smile and pulled away. Chloe watched him go, hands in the back pockets of her jeans, nipples tight with awareness and her face aglow with sexual satisfaction. When she'd chosen Fargo as her destination, she had no idea it'd be as enjoyable as this. She smiled to herself as the faint sound of his Harley died down in the distance. She'd gone as far as she wanted to go ...and damn did it feel good! Dance of Days Ch. 05 Friday's child is loving and giving ... The scent of apples and cinnamon wafted through the narrow space that was allegedly a state-of-the-art kitchen. Diane Astor made do with it, though. It really did have all the modern conveniences one expected; even if they were, perhaps, a tad smaller than you might normally find elsewhere. While the first couple of batches of tarts cooled on a makeshift rack across one side of the sink, she reread the well-used recipe card before her and munched on left over bits of apple. It had been an age since she'd had gone through the trouble of handmaking a complete dinner from scratch. But having someone special to cook for made all the difference in the world. Diane flipped casually through the notes she had made on possible choices for the main entree. The chime from the oven alerted her that it was time to check on the latest menu item before she slipped in to wake up Donald. She opened the door and leaned back from the escaping heat, then bent down and drew the cookie sheet out. Diane set it on the right hand pair of burners and looked the freshly baked, golden brown piecrust over. The tarts were strictly appetizers and treats. Apple pie a la mode was the real dessert. Satisfied that it was ready, she left it to cool and removed her apron. After hanging the apron on its hook, Diane poured a tall glass of orange juice and splashed the top of it with some ginger ale. She took just a taste then headed towards the bedroom. From the doorway, she stopped to regard Donald. He was still sleeping, naturally. It seemed he slept almost all the time, but that was fine with Diane. While he was sleeping she knew where he was and what he was doing. It took a lot of the worry off her mind. And left her free to think about what she wanted to do for him next. A smile crossed her face as one such thought came to mind. She sat her glass on one of the bureaus, and eased herself slowly onto the mattress next to Donald. Bit by bit, she edged one hand beneath the sheet and along his thigh. It was firm and muscular, like most of his body, but Diane noticed a loss in tone. She would have to make sure Donald had a bit more exercise this week, she decided, as she gently made her way to his groin. Donald stirred at the touch. Both his entire body—that turned and shifted slightly while a small questioning murmur slipped from his throat—as well as his cock, that twitched and stretched and seemed to lean itself towards Diane's questing fingers. She stroked him. He moaned in his sleep as her fingers caressed the growing length of his shaft and slipped below to let it continue to enlarge within the protective grasp of her palm. As Diane's hand worked, she brushed the sheet aside to better see what she was doing. The pink-and-purple cock in her hand looked like it needed more attention, so she leaned over to breathe on it and brush her tongue across its tip. Donald's eyes opened, and he stretched out his entire body. At first, he tried to roll himself closer to Diane, but she pressed him back into the bed. He thrust his hips forward and up, instinctively trying to press his cock once more over Diane's tongue or past her lips into her mouth. The look in her eyes as she met his gaze was full of fire and want, but it held a silent command to remain still and let her do this for him. Donald squirmed. He rocked from side to side, but Diane's hand simply closed firmly around his cock and held him in place as she dipped her head down and let him enter her. Donald relaxed some at the sudden pleasure--wet, warm, and intense. Diane released the hold her hand and fingers had upon the main part of Donald's shaft. They retained a grip at the base, however, to support him and give her a better angle for bobbing against his lap. Up and down she went, each time stroking her tongue along the surface of Donald's shaft and making her way a little further along his length. On the way up, she sucked him hard, tightening the intense hold—her mouth enveloping him—until she was at the tip, where she opened briefly for a breath and to let her tongue dance about the cap. She brushed it along the opening there, and lavished kisses upon both shaft and crown, before parting her lips once more and going down on him again. Below her, Donald bucked. He trembled and quivered and practically rose off the mattress. His lips had a series of pale marks fading upon them as the places where his teeth met their soft flesh. Words tried to come forth but dissolved into groans and grunts that mimicked the rhythm of Diane's blowjob as well as the response his hips and thighs were making to it. Diane noticed and paused. Her hand resumed his previous position, taking firm hold of Donald's cock and stroking up and down the spit-slick piece of flesh. "Hmm, hi there. Are we wanting to come already?" she said with a smile, the short curls about her temples and forehead still bouncing from the motion of before. Donald's head nodded and his eyes answered her in a visual approximation of a scream. "Well, good," she said. "That's what we're here for, right?" A soft chuckle slipped past her lips before she ducked down again. This time, she curled her tongue about him as she filled her mouth with his entire length—burying her face in his lap. Donald groaned even louder than before. He took in a deep breath, trickles of sudden nervous saliva slipping from the corners of his mouth. They ran down his chin onto his neck while Donald pumped cum into Diane's mouth and throat. She sucked it out if him—drew the warm, not-quite-salty load forth—until he dropped the arch in his back and collapsed beneath her onto the bed. Diane sat up and moved closer to Donald's face. She met his eyes once again and smiled as her tongue snaked across her lips. "Good baby?" she asked. Diane leaned in and ran the tip of her tongue about Donald's ear. "I'm so happy to be able to do that for you. Be back later, 'kay?" She blew lightly in his ear and then kissed his cheek. Diane straightened up to sit upon the bed by his chest then brushed back bits of Donald's hair that had fallen across his eyes. She took a small jar from the nightstand and dabbed some ointment along his lips. "You be careful. Wouldn't want you to cut yourself," she said as she adjusted the fabric of his gag. She stood and recovered Donald with the sheet. "I have to go check on something in the kitchen. I've been so busy busy busy." She took the glass of juice and sipped from it. "I'm making your favorite dinner--apple pie included," she told him as she started to leave. Donald's eyes strained to meet her own. He lifted himself a bit, but Diane turned away without noticing. She paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Love you." Dance of Days Ch. 07 But the child that's born on the Sabbath day Is fair and wise and good and gay. Serena Giovanni glanced up from her work at the big clock on the wall. The large face clock indicated it was five thirty. That meant it was five fifteen, but she was already the only one left in her section. Putting all else firmly out of her mind, she returned to the decryption scale and finished the descramble she was working on. Decrypting messages by hand was meticulous, exacting work. It required a lot of attention to detail and one mistake could set you back hours, because it would throw off the decrypt key. This one was from Combined Fleet. From the call letters, she assumed it was issued when Koga was still Commander-in-Chief. As the message gave up its secrets, she found it to be an ordinary fleet reassignment, sending Cruiser Division 8, from Truk to Lingga Roads, prior to the Battle for the Philippine Sea. Serena took the decrypted message, along with the others she had completed that day and snapped a rubber band around them. She cleared her desk, put on her white gloves, grabbed her purse and started for the door. On her way, she dropped the decrypts into the slot marked for Commander Layton, the G-2 man assigned to Combined Fleet. She headed up three flights of stairs and then down the long, antiseptically clean hallway, to where two GI’s stood guard at the door. One glanced at her ID badge with a bored expression and passed her a clip board so she could sign out. They were both good boys, but she avoided eye contact. They weren’t much older than her twenty-two years, but both had served on Okinawa. They had the look of men many times older and the haunted expression in those eyes always chilled her. “G’night Miss,” the shorter one said. “Good night, Jeb,” she replied. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the teaming humanity that flooded through the narrow road fronting the building. There were military personnel from all services, in jeeps and on foot. They were outnumbered by thousands of Japanese. Men, women, children, most in drab war issue clothing, although she occasionally saw a woman in a kimono or a man in what was left of his uniform. They were in general, a ragged, tattered, sad looking people and her heart went out to them. She had only to look east, towards what had been the business district to see the devastation the fire bombing raids had left in their wake. Serena loved the oriental mode of dress, if she hadn’t had such an affinity for it, she would have never noticed the girl. She was standing on a corner, wearing a beautiful white silk kimono, decorated with a delicate purple flower motif. Her face was freshly scrubbed, the blood serving as rouge and her hair had obviously been done up with attention to detail. She was beautiful, absolutely stunningly beautiful, reminding Serena of one of those porcelain china dolls she used to see at the county fair. As she watched, the girl hesitantly tried to approach a fat army sergeant, but he took no notice of her and she drew back towards the corner of the building. Serena felt a lump in her throat and she fought back tears. It was an all too common sight. Women, with nothing left but their bodies to offer for food and shelter. Don’t get involved, she told herself, but she knew it was too late. She was already involved. Half her meager paycheck each month went to a Catholic war orphans relief fund. She did all her shopping at a local market, not so much because she enjoyed oriental food, although she was developing a taste for it, but because it allowed her to give more than just the half her paycheck she could afford. As she watched, the girl seemed to work up her courage to try again. Serena saw two marines coming and realized, they wouldn’t fail to take the girl up on it. Marines never missed a chance to get laid and after all they had been through, they had absolutely no sympathy for anyone Japanese. She was moving before she thought, crossing the street, heedless of the traffic or blaring horns. The girl was reaching out, to touch one of the marines on the shoulder when Serena passed between them, catching the girl’s arm and pulling her along. When she resisted, Serena stopped and faced her. “Come with me,” she said, in her halting Japanese. The girl eyed her curiously, but nodded and docilely followed. Serena led her through the maze of buildings, to the one she called home. Her apartment was on the third floor and the MP guarding the door gave her a quizzical look. “What?” she said testily. “Nothing Ma’m,” he replied quickly. Once they were inside, she indicated the sofa. The girl seemed confused, but sat down, carefully folding her feet beneath her body. Serena poured the girl a glass of lemonade and went back into the living room to hand it to her. She took it cautiously, delicately sniffed and then sipped. The look on her face as the sweet sour coolness hit her taste buds was as close to ecstasy as Serena had ever seen on a woman’s face. She drank greedily and seemed embarrassed when she finished and found Serena watching her. “How long?” Serena asked, pointing to her stomach. The girl cocked her head, but didn’t respond. Serena could read, write and translate Japanese, but her training hadn’t included conversational Japanese and she had been afforded little opportunity to practice speaking. She knew the language of war, of orders, of Combined Fleet directives, but she found herself searching her memory for the phrase to eat. Giving up, she pointed to her stomach again, then pantomimed eating. The girl seemed to understand and fired off a flowing, beautiful sentence that was spoken so fast Serena couldn’t make out more than one word in ten. “Slow,” she said in Japanese. The girl spoke again, very slowly and Serena got the gist. A fucking week. She hadn’t eaten in a fucking week! “What kind of a world is this?” she muttered as she went into the kitchen, took off her gloves and pulled out the kaka she used for cooking rice. She was at home in the kitchen and as the comforting routine of preparing a meal began she let her mind wander. Dance of Days Ch. 07 As she came out of the bathroom and into the living room, Kika smiled and hesitantly held out her hand. In it was a sheet of paper and on it, Serena recognized a waka poem. Yes, I have found her The one who’s destined for me But does she know me? Serena looked into Kika’s eyes and all the questions were answered.