2 comments/ 25205 views/ 6 favorites And Here's To You Mrs. Svenningsson By: Smokey125 SS42: "Penalized Member II: And Here's To You, Mrs. Svenningsson" *** Sequel time! Here's a follow-up to "Penalized Member"—which was not too bad an original story, I reckon, but very possibly the worst title I ever came up with. Luckily, this sequel's title is better: "And Here's To You, Mrs. Svenningsson." *** December 28th, 2:21 p.m. BEEP-bip-BOOP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BIP-boop-bip-BEEP. Ring...ring...ri— "Hello?" "...Mark?" "...Yeah?" "...Hi." "Oh gosh, hi!...Uh...how-how've you been?" "Okay. Listen, uh...I'm sorry I haven't been in touch with you for a while. I just needed some time to sort out and process all this...y'know, eh...what you told me and everything." "Oh, yeah, again, I am so, so sorry about that. I mean...the...the thing that...started it all." "Well...I've been giving it some thought, and...now that she and I have had the time to get it worked out and everything...I was thinking, maybe...maybe we could sorta start over." "Really?...I think I'd like that." "So would I. I just feel like...we really seemed to have a nice thing going, and...you're a nice guy. And I like you." "Well, thanks! I...I like you too." "So how was your Christmas?" "Oh, it was real nice. Jennie and I went up to our parents' like every year, got some great gifts, rest of the family came over, we had the honey-glazed ham, played some games, watched some sports, sang some carols, shot the works. Terrific." "Yeah, sounds like ours; you pretty much covered it." "Yeah, I think the only weird thing about family holidays is for some reason we have to eat dinner at, like, 2:00 or 3:00 in the afternoon. I mean, since when is that dinnertime, right? Only on holidays! Some days at work I have lunch at 2:00 or 3:00." "Hee-hee...yeah, ya got a point." "Right, and so, as big a meal as that is, including dessert and everything, after that, around 8:00 or 9:00...I'm hungry again." "Heh! Right on. So did you go to Lucia?" "Oh, yeah, of course! Pär and Lena hosted it, so that was easy for me: just right to their house." "Cool. How was it?" "Oh, just brilliant. Very Christmasy. I even learned some new songs." "Nice! Maybe you can treat me to a mini-concert next time." "Oh, gosh, I...well, I'd-I'd be honored! Did you have a particular date in mind?" "I'm actually free Wednesday night." "New Year's Eve?" "Yep! Would you like to join me for a little two-person New Year's Eve party?" "...Oh, gee, let me think about that for a sec—YES!" "Awesome. Y'know, Mark, through everything that's happened and all...I've really missed you the last couple months." "Oh...thanks, I missed you too." "So shall I see you Wednesday night—say, around 8:00-ish or so, my place?" "Su—...SURE! I'd love to!" "Okay, see you then!" "I can't wait!" *** Nine months earlier Mark Thomas Numan had discreetly allowed a week to pass following the Svenska Festare smörgåsbord to resume contact with Annelie Svenningsson, the woman with whom he had now literally shared more of a bond than he had with any of the other members in the group. After the intimate and eye-opening—yet also strict and disciplinary—lesson she had taught him following the mistake he had made, he felt uncertain about reinitiating touch with her, to say the least, but he knew they would meet up again at the group party held in April, so he told himself to just go with it. On the next Saturday, March the 29th, he sent Annelie an E-mail, as she had instructed him to do when he was ready. HEY ANNELIE, IT'S MARK. I'M WRITING THIS IN ENGLISH 'CAUSE IT'S MUCH EASIER AND FASTER TO EXPRESS MYSELF THIS WAY. AND YOUR ENGLISH IS WAY WAY BETTER THAN MY SWEDISH. SO HERE GOES. I WANNA OPEN BY REITERATING THAT I'M SORRY ABOUT WHAT I DID. I KNOW YOU SAID IT WAS OKAY AND YOU FORGAVE ME ALREADY, I JUST WANNA REALLY HAMMER IT HOME AND MAKE SURE I ACHIEVE THE CLOSURE. I THINK IT'S THE ONLY WAY I'LL EVENTUALLY BE ABLE TO MOVE ON AND FOR THINGS TO BE, WELL, NOT WEIRD BETWEEN US. I DON'T WANT THE MEETINGS TO BE AWKWARD OR ANYTHING. I'VE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT IT SINCE IT HAPPENED. AND ABOUT MY PROBLEM. I'VE RESEARCHED IT ONLINE, AND THERE'S REALLY NO "CURE" FOR IT, PER SE, BUT I'M THINKING ABOUT SEEKING THERAPY TO FIND A BETTER WAY TO DEAL WITH IT. I FEEL KINDA FUNNY TALKING ABOUT IT, EVEN THOUGH WE'RE REALLY NOT EXACTLY STRANGERS ANYMORE (PLEASE PARDON MY GRATUITOUS USE OF ITALICS). I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW HOW AWARE I AM OF THE RAMIFICATIONS OF LETTING IT CONTROL MY ACTIONS NOW. THIS IS TRICKY TO GO INTO NOW BEING COMPLETELY HONEST, BUT YOU DID AFTER ALL JUST LET ME KNOW TO E-MAIL YOU ABOUT IT, SO...AFTER THE THING THAT HAPPENED WITH US LAST SATURDAY, EVEN THOUGH I KINDA ENDED UP WITHOUT MUCH OF A CHOICE, IT DOESN'T EXACTLY FEEL RIGHT TO ASK YOU IF, HOW AND/OR WHEN I MIGHT BE ABLE TO MEET YOUR DAUGHTER—IS THAT JUST TOTALLY WRONG? OR IS IT ALL RIGHT? IF I UNDERSTOOD RIGHT, IT SOUNDED LIKE YOU WERE OKAY WITH IT WHEN YOU DROPPED ME OFF LAST WEEK. IF NOT, THEN I CAN'T SAY I'M SORRY ENOUGH TIMES, AND PLEASE FORGET I WROTE THIS PARAGRAPH. AND THE NEXT PARAGRAPH. IF IT IS OKAY WITH YOU, THEN THIS SEEMS AS GOOD A TIME AS ANY TO TELL YOU THAT ANY INTERACTION I COULD GET TO HAVE WITH YOUR DAUGHTER WOULDN'T BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. I CAN'T TELL YOU I'D HAVE ANY "INTENTIONS" TOWARD HER WITHOUT MEETING HER FIRST. EXCEPT TO BE MYSELF. I CAN TELL YOU, THOUGH, THAT I WOULD ABSOLUTELY PROMISE TO TREAT HER LIKE NOTHING LESS THAN A PRINCESS. I GUESS THAT'S ABOUT ALL I WANTED TO TELL YOU. I'M REALLY GLAD TO HAVE MET YOU AND THE SWEDES, AND THAT YOU'RE ALL IN MY LIFE. MY FRIENDSHIP WITH YOU ALL IS VERY SPECIAL AND MEANINGFUL TO ME, SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND HOW LAST WEEK IT SCARED ME THAT SOMETHING MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO IT. BUT DON'T WORRY, I'M CONVINCED WE'RE STILL FRIENDS. SEE YA NEXT TIME. HA DET SÅ BRA, OCH HEJ DÅ. MARK He took a breath before clicking the Send button. After doing so, he stood from his computer and took an idle walk around his apartment, letting any leftover self-awkwardness dissipate. Then he opened one of his windows to let this happen, and also to take in a little fresh air. He reminded himself that he'd been nothing but completely honest with Annelie in his E-mail, and so there was no point in worrying about what she might say or might not say in reply; his only task vis-à-vis her right now was to let her read, and respond however so desired, if so desired. Her English was slightly awkward, but understandable nonetheless. After taking care of some errands, he came home Sunday evening to find that Annelie had written him a reply. HEJ HEJ MARK, THANKS FOR YOUR WRITING, I ENJOYED WHAT YOU HAD TO SAY. SORRY I DIDN'T WRITE BACK TILL NOW, I HAD TO DEVELOP PICTURES. I WRITE BACK IN ENGLISH AS WELL AS I CAN SO EVERYTHING IS CLEAR FOR YOU. I KNOW YOU'RE SORRY, AND I UNDERSTAND YOUR FEELINGS. YES, TO "HAMMER IT HOME," LIKE YOU SAY, I ASSURE YOU, EVERYTHING IS TOTALLY COOL. I ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY FORGIVE YOU, ALL THE WAY, LIKE I SAID BEFORE. I GRANT CLOSURE ON MY END. NO WORRY, THINGS ARE NEVER WEIRD BETWEEN US. YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEEL FUNNY ABOUT, FETISH IS A NORMAL HUMAN THING. I CAN IMAGINE YOU GOING THROUGH SOME TOUGH STUFF, BUT ANYONE WHO PUNISH YOU JUST FOR HAVING IT IS NOT WORTH YOUR TIME. WHAT I DID TO YOU NOTWITHSTANDING. THAT WAS ONLY A CONSEQUENCE THING. YOU HAVE NO CONTROL WITH IT, SO YOU CAN'T BE LEGITIMATELY BLAMED FOR YOU HAVE IT. BUT YOU CAN BE FOR THAT YOU ACT ON IT. AND I KNOW YOU KNOW THAT. SO I CAN'T EMPHASIZE ENOUGH, IT'S FINE. WE'RE FRIENDS. OF COURSE YOU CAN MEET KAROLINA. SHE'S HOME FROM COLLEGE AND TO STAY WITH ME A WHILE. I TOLD HER ABOUT YOU. NOT EVERYTHING, BUT ALL GOOD STUFF, NO WORRY. SHE HAS ALWAYS PLEASURE TO MEET A NICE, HANDSOME BOY. SHE HAS FRIDAY NIGHT FREE, SO IF THAT WORKS FOR YOU I GO AHEAD AND SET IT UP. SHE'S A LOVELY GIRL AND SO SWEET, I KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO LIKE HER. I KNOW YOU WILL BE NOTHING BUT WONDERFUL TO HER AND TREAT HER LIKE PRINCESS, MARK. YOU, TRUST ME, I AM A VERY GOOD JUDGE OF CHARACTER AND I FEEL YOU ARE A SUPER FANTASTIC PERSON. I AM SURE YOU TWO ARE GETTING ON TERRIFIC TOGETHER. GET BACK TO ME AND I TELL YOU MORE ABOUT IT. VI SES VISST NÄSTA GÅNG. KRAM OCH PUSS, A It went without saying Mark felt very good and relieved finishing Annelie's correspondence back to him. A few more E-mails and another week later, he had a date set up! Next thing he knew, he was counting the minutes to the end of each weekday. He was so excited, he operated twice as fast as normal at work so he would have more time to daydream and plan the evening. He hoped he wasn't building this up too much in his mind, or making it into something it wouldn't crack up to be. If he did so, he might actually end up disappointed. He told himself not to anticipate meeting his dream-girl. The lack of previous female companionship simply made the prospect of a new promising date that much more enticing. Mark had to work hard to force himself not to get his hopes up. But Annelie had after all stated her daughter—whose name was ostensibly Karolina—was lovely and sweet, and not that he was only concerned with physical appeal, but if that particular apple didn't fall from the tree on a windy day, and the girl looked anything like her Mom, he liked the way things seemed. At last, the big day arrived. Much of Mark's week had been spent coming up with content to fill the time spent on the date. He decided he'd be willing to do just about anything Karolina might like to (within reason and boundaries, of course), but also, just in case, to come up with some basic ideas of his own for backup. While dating wasn't precisely comparable to anything like, say...school, Mark found it paid to be decently prepared in both scenarios. He wrote back and forth to Annelie several supplementary times leading up to the evening, and it seemed every time they broke contact he thought of another question to ask. Finally, he eventually determined he had preparation in hand. Annelie didn't want him to feel like he was under any serious pressure, so she told him she wouldn't make him bring anything fancy—except for maybe a nice corsage if he wanted to—and to appear nice and presentable, of course, but otherwise to dress how he preferred, reminding him to just be himself. He may not have had his friends, the Nybergs, Lena and Pär, to drive him this time, but looking up the directions online worked completely fine. He decided to allow the weather to dictate how much he dressed up. The temperature was in the low 60s, so he decided on a nice solid blue button-up shirt with long sleeves he also buttoned at the cuffs. Then he retrieved a pair of khakis and tossed on two normal matched socks. The shoes required a little more consideration. He wisely settled on a pair just dressy enough to appear semi-formal, but also just sporty enough to work if they were to decide to just take a stroll. He was about all gussied up, but while not necessary, a tie certainly couldn't hurt. But, actually... As he recalled the details of what happened at Annelie's house the evening of the smörgåsbord, he was discouraged from going with a traditional necktie. He did, however, also have a nice white bow tie. That could work. He stopped at the florist to pick out a nice-looking corsage. Finally, he headed for Annelie's, adding percussion to the radio airplay by drumming on the steering wheel. The first half of the journey was spent excitedly hoping things went passably well, in and around his random thoughts. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy, I hope I like her. I hope I li—well, actually, I'm pretty sure I'll like her. Haven't been out with that many girls; 's not like I'm gonna scrutinize, or be way too selective. I hope she likes me! That's a more logical thing to hope for! Hope Karolina likes me. Karolina...that's a beautiful name. Especially with that 'k.' Of course, most anything exotically European like that's pretty beautiful to a lot of us Americans. The more I think about it now, the weirder mine seems. 'Mark.' One single syllable. How dumb. That's hardly even a name; it's a spot or other imperfection on something that probably shouldn't be there. It's a grade you get in school. A slab of tape where an actor on stage stands. An unsuspecting person who gets put on a silly hidden-camera TV show. The Swedish word for the ground. The ground. The thing you walk on when you're outdoors, for crying out loud. Strange. 'Course, it could be worse; it could be the two-syllable version. 'Markus.' OJ då. There's one where you definitely want a 'c' instead of the 'k.' That's even less of a name, that's a command. An imperative request: 'Mark-us down on the attendance sheet.' Anyways, it's not that bad. It's pretty common. A lot of guys are named Mark. With a 'c' or a 'k.' Probably not considered weird to most of them in the slightest. Besides, any person who'd make a judgment on another person based solely on their name is insane. He carefully followed the printed-out directions. As he got off the interstate and navigated through the semi-familiar residential dwellings, approaching the house, his excitement congruently accelerated. He told himself to just calm down and breathe deep. It's just a date, Mark, it's just a date. It's not like your life depends on it if it doesn't go well. Still, his heart was beating hard against his chest as he pulled onto Annelie's street. He checked the clock. 5:56. Good timing, he thought. Being just a couple of minutes early seemed like a good plan. He figured this way he wasn't being rude by arriving late and at the same time he wasn't appearing anxiously overeager by showing up much too early. And there it was. He'd just been here once before, but it was only two weeks ago, and he recognized the architecture, the lawn décor and the Swedish flag flapping out one of the windows. What he didn't recognize were the two lawn chairs parked out front, one of which was occupied by Annelie, holding a glass with beverage and ice. Oh, interesting, he thought. Evidently, the other lawn chair was reserved for her daughter...or was it for him, her daughter perhaps out somewhere temporarily on her way back as well? He didn't know, but staying stationary in his car wouldn't answer this question for him. He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, held it, meditated briefly for a moment and popped the door open. He smiled, jogging up to meet her. "Hej!" he called with a wave. Annelie sat the glass of lemonade she was drinking in the lawn chair's cup holder and stood to greet him. "Välkommen!" she said, holding out her arms for a hug. "Vad kul å se dig igen, Mark!" "Tack, tack! Och dig med!" he returned, thanking her and telling her it was good to see her again as well. His heart was still pounding, so he made himself settle down inside. "Sorry, I'm kinda nervous," he explained. "Oh, sveetie, you'll be fine," she smiled at him benevolently. "Karolina's inside, she had to go to ändstationen. Why don't you sit yourself down and we just chat till she comes back out?" So they lightly shot the figurative breeze for a few minutes, letting the literal breeze pleasantly brush their faces. "Do you have plans already mapped out for 'dis evening, Mark?" Annelie asked, glancing back at the front door. "Well, uh, roughly," Mark said. "I figured I'd ask her, we'd find something we'd both like to do, and, just kinda go from there." Annelie leaned in closer to him and surreptitiously reached into the pocket of her jeans. "Vell..." she replied, lowering her voice to whisper-level, "Vhatever you kids end up doing, I'm sure 'dis helps." Again making sure her daughter wasn't yet emerging out the front door to meet them, she slipped him a $50 bill. Mark gasped quietly. "Oh m—!" He covered his mouth momentarily, as if afraid they were doing something wrong, and that someone would hear. "Oh my goodness, Annelie...tha—...that is SO generous, but I don't know if I c—" Annelie shook her head and placed a finger to his lips. "Please don't say no, Mark. Consider it my treat." Mark was incredibly moved. Very possibly the most giving woman on the planet, this was. Certainly the most giving that he'd met. He quickly retrieved his wallet, shoved the note inside and replaced it by the time they heard the screen door creak open and swing shut again with a wind-pressured slap! They turned reflexively, and Mark stood to see an utterly enchanting, beautiful young lass bounding back out to meet him. "Oh, hi!" she smiled with her big bright blue eyes. "You're Mark, I take it?" Interestingly, she spoke with no Swedish accent whatsoever. She sounded just like any American he might chance to meet. He supposed it made sense if Annelie and Karolina's father came here around the time she was born, or beforehand. Even instilled with a regionalism spoken by the people who brought her into this world, enough time subsequently spent with real Americans, one could grow just as accustomed to their speech patterns. But Mark could easily tell this was Annelie's daughter, by the silky blonde hair, the depthless blue eyes and the incomparably breathtaking beauty. No mistake to be made here. His voice came out high and scratchy at first. "Why y—..." He cleared his throat. "Yes! Yes, I am. Mark Numan," he smiled back, holding out his hand. She accepted the hand with a flourishing curtsy. "Pleasure. Karolina Svenningsson." Mark was already so charmed by this lovely vixen, part of him wanted to throw a crushing hug on Annelie and thank her about a bazillion times, but the other part of him prevailed to tell himself to just be cool. And Karolina was talking to him again. "I'm real sorry to've kept you waiting, Mark." "Oh!" Mark effortlessly waved it away. "No, no, no, you're...fine," he said, accentuating the double meaning in the word. "Your—your Mom kept me just wonderful company." "Yeah, she's great," Karolina agreed. "Well, all righty, Mamma-bear. See ya later then?" "Have fun, kids!" Annelie waved them off. "Oh, and Mark? I vould like her back by eleven-'tirty, please." "Mother," Karolina scolded, a bit embarrassed by the curfew announcement. "No, no, that's okay, Mrs. S.," said Mark. "Eleven-thirty, that's cool. End of November it is!" They shared a laugh at his joke. The truth was, Annelie was lovingly ribbing them. Mark and Karolina were both over 21, and mature, responsible young adults. If Karolina were to arrive home past 11:30, Annelie certainly wasn't plotting to chastise her, or decree that she would no longer cavort with Mark. She'd made this request as a mere formality. Actually, she'd probably be asleep by the time she asked they return anyway. The bottom line was that she just wanted them to have fun. Off they went. When Mark asked, Karolina said she'd be open and willing to most anything he might like to do. The answer to his next question—"Okay, are you hungry?"—was affirmative, so they jaunted to the Candle Grove. Mark had mentally gathered a list of questions and topics to broach to keep conversation going should it begin to lag, but he had naught to fret over. Karolina had plenty to share with him. They discussed their childhoods, teens, present and future goals, hopes and dreams, varied interests, and whatever else happened to come up. One thing Karolina said that really stuck in Mark's mind was that even though she spoke fluent Swedish like her mother, she was enamored of the English language. Furthermore, always having loved America since her family came here, she'd learned to enunciate and speak like a true American. Dialect, grammar, slang, nuance, she had it all. If Mark didn't know better, he would swear she'd never been outside the U.S. And while he was fairly patriotic, her red, white and blue pride surprised him a bit. This deep admiration was the way he felt about faraway lands such as Sweden, but they simply agreed it was human nature to think of the proverbial grass as being greener on the other side. And Here's To You Mrs. Svenningsson Barely able to believe what an incredible time he was having so far, Mark allowed himself to fall into the girl's beautiful blue eyes and drink in her gorgeous smile. And yet, he had no further trouble volleying a friendly conversation with her. She made it so easy. She wasn't snobbish, aloof or immodest about her pulchritude, like a lot of the girls he had met before in his life. Just the contrary; she was outgoing, bright, kind and beatific. This was already becoming one of the best nights of Mark's life. He decided that if dinner went well he'd ask if she'd like to go to a movie next. He figured, he liked dinner, he liked movies—who didn't, really—and she seemed pretty agreeable, so away they went next to the Cineplex, where they saw a romantic comedy, which seemed appropriate. About halfway through, they coyly joined hands, but did no more than this just now. By the time Mark got them back to the house it was 10:48, which left them forty-two minutes to spend. And Karolina, who'd been very much enjoying herself as well, wasn't in any big hurry to bring the date to an end before so requested, so she took him on a little walk around the neighborhood first. Well, what do you know, Mark thought. The shoes did come in handy. When they adjourned back and Mark walked her up to the door, they exchanged a peck on the cheek, and Karolina told him she'd had a very nice time. Mark said the same, but it was an understatement. He was walking on air. He might even go so far as to call this evening magical. He still wasn't positive what exactly Karolina was doing with him when surely she could have any one of her pick of guys to date, but he figured he must have been doing something right. He held off on asking for a possible second date, uncertain if this, like before, might come off as seeming too forward or needy. And he figured he could resume contact online in the meantime, eventually easing into the subject of another encounter. To his surprise, after they'd met up on Facebook, it was in fact Karolina who proposed date number two, which made Mark feel very flattered, and actually began to boost his self-confidence. Apparently, something he was doing worked very well, even better than he'd thought. On top of which, a very particular impulse was being awakened within him. Mark was obviously not about to disclose the details of his plans for this evening to Karolina, and were there anything he could do by himself, this was it. He was pretty good at thinking things through (most of the time), and just as with Annelie, he didn't think it would be such a good idea to do this with Karolina in mind. And so after having shed his clothing, returned to his bedroom and draped a towel over his seat, he opened his legs, cast his mind's eye around for some of his favorite female celebs and other eye candy, had them remove their shoes, put their bare feet on display for him, and discreetly started petting himself. While he didn't always appreciate this fetish, and wished he could flip it on and off—usually off—like the TV, it certainly did come in handy—pun not exactly intended—when he sat down for some quality alone time. Actually, there probably wouldn't have been anything wrong with doing this via Annelie's feet; the picture he took was still on his phone, she had left it there, and she'd specifically outright told him it was okay with her if he wanted to pleasure himself to it...but he remained apprehensive. He did want to continue being her friend and seeing her at the meetings, so maybe this wasn't a terrific idea...right now. Whatever exactly it was about the feet, he'd never been able to say. It was his fetish, it was built-in, and really, it was just as simple as that. Ever since he was a kid, and may have had a female teacher in school who decided to give the day's lesson or read to them with her shoes off and her feet up, or a female friend of his parents who came over and set free her own tootsies, Mark could tell something about them interested him. But what exactly...who could say. All he knew was that after puberty set all the way in, the sight, thought, or mere image in his mind sent a sexual rush through him and drew his pants just a bit tighter around his waist. As always in this instance, his brain redirected the blood in his legs to its alternate destination. He reached for the lotion bottle on his desk and pumped a bit into his palm. Naturally, he set about next to apply the coated palm to his hardening cock. He rotated his grip to make sure every square inch was coated in an at least semi-thick sheen of cream, and his appreciative dick continued swelling in anticipation. As it grew and grew, Mark began conjuring fantasies to mind. He pictured an attractive woman he thought he'd seen somewhere before, in a bed he also vaguely recognized. He thought staying away from women he personally knew might be a wise idea in his fantasies. The comely lass in his daydream removed the heels she was wearing, letting them dangle from her toes for a bit, then dropping to the floor as she rubbed her tired feet. The manual autoactivity on his dick quickened. Next in his imagination, another woman entered the room and crawled into bed with the first. The first woman took off the second's shoes and rubbed and massaged her feet as well. Their bodies were arranged in a sixty-nine-like position, but instead of getting naked and doing thus, in Mark's fantasy they commenced to licking and worshiping one another's feet, softly gliding their fingertips, lips and tongues up and down, sucking each other's toes. A wave of pleasure cascaded and crashed over him. His hormones were going out of control. He jerked faster, more vigorously and more intensely, fondling his balls, rubbing them between the fingers of his other hand. One of the women began tickling the other's soles in gentle, seductive strokes, making the latter squeal with giggles and reciprocate. Mark shut his eyes tight, leaned back in the chair and dug his own toes into the carpet. The next he did was to imagine one of the women gingerly, slowly, deliciously sinking her teeth into the other's instep, just enough to tantalize her, activating a hot spot in her foot that triggered her libido, making her moan in passion. Mark's own passion grew in turn, sending more urgent waves of delight through his now quivering body. His trembling legs flexed and twitched desperately as he more and more violently jacked himself off. His blood heated warmer and warmer. Beads of sweat broke out on his brow as he began to cry out for sweet release. Mark may not have been the world's most frequent masturbator, but when he did so, he did so with conviction. In the past he'd always been a bit shy about the act or even the thought of jerking off, always thinking someone was somehow...watching him—even when he knew proof-positive no one was. But now after his little adventure with Annelie, he felt a bit less self-conscious about his sex life and autoerotic escapades. And right now, the hotter his mental fantasy grew, logically, the crazier he went on himself. Flames of pleasure singed his insides and set him yet more immensely ablaze. The women in the bed together in his daydream went on making sweet, glorious oral love to each other's tootsies, driving their dreamer unbearably insane. The moisturizing lubrication in the skin lotion made it impossibly easy for his hand to rapidly, smoothly slip and glide up and down his shaft at ninety reps a minute. He strained, groaned and arched his back, begging for the impending orgasm to finally hit. He couldn't make his hand stop right now for fifty thousand dollars. Climaxes such as this didn't come along every single day and were not to be underestimated. Just when he thought he couldn't stand another second, one of his fantasy women took the other's foot between her legs and self-administered a one-ped foot job with it. That did it. The lightning struck his body and electrified him inside and out a dozen times in rapid, torrid succession. Through the tip of his reddened, almost purple dick rocketed spurt after hot spurt of come, spraying himself all over the hands and thighs as well as the towel on which he sat, lurching and shaking uncontrollably. His eyelids fluttered, eyeballs rolling back in his head as psychedelic dizziness splashed through him once and once more and again. His uncaged shouts clouded the atmosphere, climbing up and out to reach the keener ears of nearby apartment tenants. But Mark couldn't care if he tried. His dick, his libido and his dream-women were calling the shots right now. He furiously jerked and jerked, propelling himself relentlessly through the mindless orgasm, until he could at long last go no further. When he realized he was done, he staggered up and into the bathroom, back out again and collapsed into his mattress, finally resting his eyes, his legs, his earlier come-caked hand. The two bed-occupying fantasy women in his mind dissolved and evaporated into the recesses of his imagination. Everything slowly shut down as tranquil unconsciousness settled over Mark Numan like an angel tucking him in for the evening. He fell to blissful slumber. *** September 5th, 8:23 p.m. Mark and Karolina found a plethora of additional opportunities to enjoy one another's company throughout the summer. Starting with the first date in April, they went on successive dates once every one to two weeks thereafter, exchanging their first long-awaited kiss to close date four around the second week in May. June and July swept by next, ushering in the summer solstice and bringing them more enjoyable time to spend together. By the time August came to an end, they'd shared a number of lovely kisses and even managed to have a little time at Mark's apartment, in his room, cuddling up together in bed. Mark couldn't remember being this ecstatically happy at any point in his life. Karolina was radiant, fascinating, and such an amazing breath of fresh air Mark couldn't even remember the examples of polluted smog he'd been breathing before. Under her mother's roof, Karolina did not work the week long as Mark did, but she did accompany Annelie at several of her photography shoots. Karolina was considering following in her Mom's footsteps as one career option, but was teetering in other directions as well, as she told Mark on a couple of dates. Mark was indeed enormously charmed by her, but he was apprehensive to share with Karolina the secret Annelie already knew: his foot fetish. When he would come to visit Karolina, or vice versa, and they hung out together at home, watching a movie or some other, oftentimes she'd kick off her shoes (and/or socks) to relax. Here was Mark presented with his personal dilemma, but now he had learned his lesson. So he merely tried not to look at her feet. He could offer up a relatively harmless proposition, such as giving her feet a rubdown—he couldn't imagine anyone not liking or appreciating having their feet massaged—but this yet wasn't a great idea until they might one day begin interacting sexually, as should he do so, he'd consequently be obligated to explain the tent pitched in the front of his pants. He wanted to tell her about this just to get it all out there, and let the chips fall where they would, but he hadn't—ever—been met with the most welcoming reactions from his fellow individuals upon sharing this delicate information. What if it just totally freaked her out? Well...Annelie had assured him that fetishes were normal, and that if someone didn't approve of this trait of his, then they weren't worth his time. And yet...even if it were possible to keep it a secret forever, it was hardly desirable, and Karolina was the best thing that had happened to him in...in...what felt like years. If his secret scared her away, he wasn't sure how he would deal with it. He supposed he could ask Annelie if she could tell Karolina for him, but that'd surely be the coward's way out. So finally, on the first Friday in September, he got her to come over to his apartment and screwed up the courage to spill it. "Karolina," he began, sitting with her on the sofa, "...I've got something to tell you, and...yyyyyyou might not like it." "Uh-oh," said Karolina. "Am I in trouble?" "Oh, no, no, nothing like that. You're just...amazing. It's-it's, eh...it's something about me." "Okay. Go ahead." "Well..." He told himself to just let loose, but this particular proverbial Band-Aid didn't want to rip clean off. He sighed. "This is really difficult for me to talk about." "Well, Mark, if it makes you feel better, you can talk to me about absolutely anything." "I know, but...but..." She let a few seconds of silence pass, then hazarded a guess. "...Are you seeing someone else?...Are you trying to say you don't wanna go out anymore?" "No! Oh, gosh, Karolina, no, not at all! You're the best thing that's happened to me in years!" She smiled warmly at him. "Well, meeting you's been a highlight for me too, Mark. So you should feel free to share with me, even if it is a bad thing." "...It's just that this particular thing about me is really kind of a, uh...touchy subject. And even though I've actually started going to therapy to seek help for it, it has freaked out a lot of people in the past. I don't wanna scare you away." "Hmm. Well...okay, tell you what. If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine." That sounded like an interesting idea to him. "Well, uh...a'right. The truth is...Karolina..." He turned in another direction and forced it out. "...I was born with a f—...a fffffoot fetish, and any time I see the bottoms of a girl's feet I get sexually turned on." He immediately lowered his gaze to his lap. If he kept his eyes on her and saw that oh-so familiar expression of awkward perturbation...he didn't think he could bear it. But to his surprise, her response was quick, and her tone actually, undisturbedly intrigued. "Oh, wow, no kidding! That's fascinating!" He whipped his face back up. "That's what??" "Yeah! I mean, Mark, you're not gonna believe this, but that's one of the kinds of secrets I have too!" "...Y—...you have a fetish??!" "Yeah!" Karolina repeated. "Do you wanna know what mine is?" He was floored. Absolutely dumbfounded. Never, not once in the span of a millennium would he have been able to fathom that not only would she find this characteristic acceptable, but shared it, no less! He was so astonished he had to shake off the dizzy stars that had appeared before his eyes. Already slim as the chances were of meeting someone else who would come forth with a similar secret to open up to him, if given the opportunity, he always presumed it would be another gentleman doing so. Just the concept of a young woman, his own age, this willing to disclose such a personal detail about herself... He was knocked right out. He was categorically dazed. She read the awestruck wonder in his countenance. "I know, that's weird, isn't it?" she chuckled. He shook his head. "'Weird' doesn't begin to describe it." "Well, mine doesn't have to do with feet, but I dare say—though I know it's no competition—that mine's even stranger." "Really?? Stranger than mine??" In reply to her earlier question, Mark now couldn't wait to hear this. "What is it?" "Believe it or not?...Sneezing. Yeah. When someone sneezes, for whatever reason..." Karolina shrugged coyly. "I get a little...tingle inside." Mark was still indisputably amazed, no less than before. Furthermore, now for once on the other end of this presentation, just as he always speculated would be the case, he genuinely wasn't put off or freaked out himself at all. On the contrary; he welcomed such special, unique news. Not only did it reveal to him that he wasn't "alone," so to speak... "You're right; it is fascinating." "I know!" "Does it...does...uh..." He was so excited he had trouble phrasing the next question. "Does that happen when you sneeze?" "Well, not really," she told him. "Sort of the way in which you can't tickle yourself, I can't excite myself by sneezing on my own. Believe me, Mark, if I could...I don't have any allergies, but if that worked, I'd have a mill full of pepper in my room. I'd be growing ragweed and pollen in the backyard!" she laughed. "I'd just have to be careful I didn't break my ribs!" "Wow..." Mark whispered. "Well, I mean, this...oh my gosh, this is so cool!" he exclaimed. He felt euphoric. He had a dozen more questions. They gabbed excitedly about this newly discovered shared distinction in their personalities and psyches. It went without saying that Mark was still utterly mindblown, and Karolina was pretty tickled herself. But as stunned as Mark already was by this turning-point revelation, he was spellbound still further by that which transpired next. Holding on to her hands, Mark said, "Oh my good gosh, Karolina, I could just kiss you! And I'm not just saying that 'cause you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met!" He was half-joking, but the next thing he knew, Karolina leaned in as if drawn unwithstandably by a magnet and latched her lips fondly and romantically onto his. Mark's eyes reflexively popped wide open for one second, then passionately fluttered shut to relax into this sudden heavenly moment. He let go of Karolina's hands and his arms flew around her to pull her in closer to him as she did the same, drawing the both of them together into a warm snuggling embrace. This intimate affection stiffened Mark into an erection between his legs, but even should Karolina notice, he had trouble believing she'd be put off by it. In fact, he went as far as to reckon she'd be quite flattered. Heck, she would probably feel insulted had he not achieved hardness. She finally pulled her lips off Mark's, nuzzled his nose, and told him something that made his heart and spirits soar. "And you're a magnificently beautiful man as well, Mark." His entire face brightened as an elated smile spread across it like sunshine. "R—...really??" "Absolutely!" proclaimed Karolina. "I think you're a wonderful, lovely person, inside and out! I'm so happy my Mamma introduced us! Just about everything I learn about you I find scintillating and dazzling, and I really wanna know more!" Without another word or moment, Mark took her cheeks in his hands and laid an additional heartstopping kiss upon her. The next thing they knew, they were hurrying into Mark's bedroom, settling into the mattress and cuddling together, making out like a pair of young innocent teenagers, breathing sweet nothings to one another in warm, sultry exhalations. Love-laced waves of happiness and joy rode up their bodies and radiated through them one after the other. Part of Mark wanted to say he loved her, but this was another verbal offering which hadn't always yielded the most desirable results for him in the past, and while the chances were decent, he couldn't be certain Karolina felt the same. He could, however—and did—say— "Oh my God, you're fantastic! This is like magic! This is the best day of my life!" Karolina caressed his cheek. "I've a feeling I'm not that far behind you, Mark." Several minutes later, the impulse was materializing in Mark to take things to the next level. He began unbuttoning his shirt. Karolina halted his hand in action. "Mark...wait." He waited. "Mark, I...I really really like you, but...I'm not ready to take this the whole way yet." And Here's To You Mrs. Svenningsson "...Oh." That was a bit of a disappointment to Mark's libido, but he'd live, erection and all. "Well, uh...okay, I, uh...I guess." "Don't get me wrong," Karolina amended. "I'd be happy to cuddle and make out all night. And maybe one day you could play with my feet, too, if you like them...I'm just not prepared to do it without our clothes on right now." Mark's next impulse was to ask her if she had any idea when she thought she might be, but he remained silent. Rushing and haste led to mistakes, and he could certainly do without those. Besides, he reminded himself, he should be thankful with what he already had going on here. He was making out with a beautiful young lady. This phenomenon in and of itself was pretty astounding. As Earthshattering as having sex with her might be in theory, if he really loved her, he could wait until they were both ready, and that way it really would prove outstanding. He slipped his arms back around her and they resumed kissing. *** October 5th, 5:23 p.m. It was exactly one month later. Autumn was in full swing. Leaves falling from trees were as orange as the pumpkins brought out for the upcoming holiday. Seasonal shops opened to fun-seeking consumers in search of diverse costumes. And the latest and current semester of academia was underway, which for Karolina Svenningsson meant back to Denmore. She'd repacked just about everything she'd brought home with Annelie when her Mom collected her in the spring, and she was now again living in her very own dorm. With the abundance of students now marrying young and working while studying—thus taking comfort in the privacy of their folks' or their own domiciles—Karolina had no necessity of a roommate. Not just yet, anyway. She continued to date Mark, now able to show him to her own pad. Very nice, Mark observed. Decently furnished, a corner for each tucked-away space: bedroom, library-slash-study, entertainment-slash-rec area, closet, laundry...all it appeared to be missing was a kitchen. But that was all right, Karolina assured him; they had the on-campus café and a slew of fast food and otherwise a bit down the road, and in-dorm students also ordered take-out to save time while cramming, sleeping or partying. "And the walls are actually soundproof!" she exclaimed. "Solidly soundproof walls! I know! Crazy! Right? A lot of campuses...uh...campi, whatever, their walls are paper thin. But here they anticipated the students' tendency to party, and, uh...do other stuff," she smirked playfully. Raising her voice to a shout, she went on, "SO YOU CAN PRACTICALLY SCREAM YOUR HEAD OFF IN HERE AND YOU WON'T EVEN DISTURB ANYBODY!!" "Oh, WOW!!" replied Mark, matching her decibel level. "IMPRESSIVE!!" The same day, with some time off, she took Mark on a tour of campus. After they parted ways, their dates became less frequent, allowing their hearts to grow fonder. They rode out the remainder of September, growing still closer even while apart. October's first Sunday granted Karolina a break—from classes, studying, the whole lot of it. Her schedule was wide open. So after some afternoon errands, she invited Mark to come by, and they shared an aimless handheld stroll once more about the college grounds as the sun began to peacefully set. Karolina delighted in the feeling of being at school, but not presently having to actually be in school, free to traverse the hallowed soil and pavement like this, together with her... ...Boyfriend? The word hadn't popped into her mind till just now, but it did, right smack dab in her mental consciousness...and it felt right. Mark did feel like her boyfriend to her. And she like his girlfriend. She was yet unsure if he felt anywhere near the same way. So when they adjourned back to her dorm, she ordered them a pizza for dinner and sat him down to chat. "Mark...do you like me?" she wished to know. "I like you probably more than any other girl I've liked, ever in my life," Mark declared with little to no hesitation in response. She grinned, giggling benevolently at the good news. "I really like you too, Mark. A lot. Like, a lot lot. And I want you to know, right now I don't have any desire to see anyone else." "Neither do I," he shrugged matter-of-factly. "'Course, I'm not exactly in red-hot demand." Karolina found that a little hard to believe. "I find that a little hard to believe." "It's true," he confirmed. "Honest. In the past five years, before I met you, I had...probably about five dates. One a year. And they turned out lousy. Didn't go anywhere." Karolina smiled and palmed his cheek. "Well, there's no need to dwell on that; you've got me now." "I do! And, you've got me too." "That's exactly what I wanted to hear," Karolina purred. "Mark... "I want you to be my official boyfriend." Mark grinned, leaning in to kiss her. "I'd be honored!" he stated proudly. Their lips came together in glorious romantic delight. Before they knew it, they were engaging in a marvelous recreation of their first hot and heavy make-out session at Mark's apartment. Now they would have christened both of their living spaces. But a bit more would be desired this time. "Karolina," Mark exhaled between kisses, "I...I...l—..." She patiently waited for him to finish, stars dancing in her moistened eyes. He chuckled. "I-I really wanna say this right now, but I'm not totally sure if—" She decided to help him out. "I love you too!" she rejoiced, reseizing him with passion-fueled force, injecting hot surges of devotion through him. Mark couldn't believe how ecstatic he was—until, again, his ecstasy was miraculously surpassed one moment later. "We've got about forty minutes till the pizza comes," Karolina informed him. "C'mon, start undressing me." Mark's mouth and eyes gaped wide open at her, wordlessly asking if she'd just said what he thought she did. She nodded, lips curling up impishly. "I'm ready." Whoa. Mark saw a steady red shining light in his mind's eye suddenly go bright green. His dick hardened. "Oh my God." "You can say that again," Karolina agreed, reaching to undo Mark's buttoned shirt. "But, wait. What if someone comes in?" Karolina was totally prepared for that. "There's no roommate, the door's locked, and there's a cup cozy on the knob." That was good enough for Mark. He went to work disrobing her. Five frantic minutes later, nude to the bone, they reassembled in Karolina's bed, rolling atop one another, locking limbs, expelling lungfuls of hot breath, groping...touching...feeling...caressing...longing...yearning...aching... "God...Mark...I..." Karolina panted. "I...I don't think I can stand it anymore..." Mark nodded at her. "So that means..." "YES, my sweetheart," she nodded back. "Inside." Her imperative request was so commanding, so compelling, so seductive, it instantly sent all the hot blood flooding to Mark's cock it could hold. He looked down, past Karolina's lovely heaving tits, to her warm, wet, waiting pussy. Her hands abandoned his body for the moment to reach between her thighs and spread open her labia for him. "PLEASE, Mark!" she moaned, beseeching for sweet penetration. "PLEASE, now!" Removing his own hand from Karolina's quivering shoulder, Mark took a firm grip on himself and guided his dick inside her. "OHHHHHHH!!" she exulted as he filled her, and her pussy stretched inside to accommodate him. "YES!" she reiterated. The shock wave that went through Mark as he felt her grip down on him with her drenched cunt was more than he could handle. He spastically jerked over her, burying his face in her breasts, groaning in sublime harmony with her. She wrapped his head and shoulders in her arms, holding him as tight, snug and loving as were he her own teddy bear, encouraging him to suck and nibble her breasts. When he could focus again, Mark tried to concentrate on his technique. He didn't possess a wealth of experience in this neck of the woods, but he did his best to achieve a good, steadily thrusting stroke. Karolina kept moaning and weeping in elation. Either he was doing something really well, or she really loved him. Or both. "My God, Karolina, I can't believe we're actually doing this!" he chuckled amidst his own heavy respiration. "I know!" she half-laughed and half-cried. "If it couldn't potentially land us in trouble, I'd wanna videotape us just to see it!" Mark went on throwing inside her and sucking on the delicately thin skin of her tender breasts before her words sank in. Something about that sentence...suddenly...alarmed him. "...I'd wanna videotape us just to see it!..." Two of those words echoed darkly in his conscious mind. Videotape us... VIDEOtape?? Mark's eyes popped open in abrupt consternation. Annelie. With that single epiphany... ...Suddenly every detail from that frightening night back in March came back and reinvaded his mind. One element led to the next in his brain. Annelie...videotape...photography...CAMERA...camera PHONE...crime and punishment...action and consequences...ties...feet...foot job...forced sex... ...Oh, no. ...OHHHHH, no... He had all but completely forgotten before this point, but one word was all it took for everything to resurface. Her own mother. It was her own mother. Mark's mind involuntarily began to shut down all sexual activity. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be intimate with this wonderful, innocent girl after what had happened between him and her mother. Now that his memory had recalled how he had taken the picture of Annelie's feet, how she had kept him in her house, ordered him up to her room, tied him to her bed, and veritably raped him for this invasion of her privacy... It was an impossibility. Annelie might've given him permission, she might've forgiven him...but his conscience would not. He slowly inside felt his heart start breaking as his cock softened and deflated in Karolina's vagina. Karolina, none the wiser, was still hot on her way to bursting with crazy passion. "OH, GOD, YES, MARK, YES!! DO IT! D—..." She noticed with surprise that things had been brought to a screeching standstill. "...M—...Mark?..." Something strange had happened. He had halted having sex with her. "...Honey?...What's..." Mark's hands melted off her as his dick dejectedly slid out. Dismayed, he concealed his shamed face in his arms with a sigh. Karolina took observation with a start that something was very wrong here all of a sudden. What had happened? "Mark, what's the matter??" she asked, almost panicking. The only answer she got was a downcast shake of the head. "Mark, wh—...for Heaven's sake, what happened to you? Tell me! Did I...did I do something wrong? Or..." Mark rolled over and sadly sat up, lowering his feet to the floor and his face in his palms. "Mark..." Karolina repeated, growing scared. He heard and felt her sit up beside him and start to gingerly rub his back. "Please tell me what's wrong." He only shook his head. "I can't," she barely heard him murmur from between his fingers. Karolina was becoming increasingly frightened. Two minutes ago, everything was perfectly fine—actually, a hell of a lot better than fine! What on Earth could have gone so wrong so quickly?? "Mark, honey," she coaxed, "You can tell me anything. We just declared our love for each other a little while ago! What could you possibly have to tell me that would make more of an impact than that, for crying out loud?" she questioned, adding a small chuckle to attempt to lighten the situation a bit. He shook no again. "I can't tell you this." "Mark, I'm your girlfriend now! Sweetheart, you told me about your foot thing and it was just fine! Is this really that much worse? Really, honey, if there's anybody you can confide in at this moment, let it be me!" Finally, Mark removed his hands from his now teary face. "It's way too horrible," he blubbered. "Oh, my gosh," assessed Karolina, turning her concerned gaze to the floor. "Well, I'm already sitting down...really, though, could it actually be that bad, as bad you're making it out to be?" He sniffled. "Worse." Karolina found it difficult to believe anything could be this bad. "Well, Mark...goodness' sake, sweetie...wh—... "...What-what did you do, sleep with my Mom or something?" She chuckled, a bit sardonically. She'd meant this as a joke, but Mark didn't laugh. He did, however, solemnly turn to look up at her, with an expression that motionlessly smacked the smirk off her face. "WHOA..." said Karolina, the wind out from under her sails. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. What now??" Well, it was out; he couldn't conceal it anymore. He might as well try to come forth with the explanation. "It-it w—I-I didn't mean for anything to happen," he sputtered out. "Y—...you remember how I told you about my foot fetish. Well, back around March I...kinda, um...took a picture of her feet with my phone, 'cause I was being stupid and wasn't exercising decent judgment at all, and she caught me. And she made me go up to her room and..." He paused, trying to think how to delicately phrase the following details. Karolina, now feeling disturbed and a bit queasy in the belly, pushed herself up off the bed. "She-she didn't exactly, um..." Mark tried, groping for tactful words. "She tied me down on the bed and...uh... "...Did...things to me," Mark finally pushed out. He thought he would be silent for now, and not go into explicit details. Karolina inched to her dresser, steadying herself against it, and placed her hands flat on its surface, palms down, trying to determine how exactly to take this in. Now she understood why Mark was so hesitant about going into this, and how abysmal it was. What she didn't understand was why he'd waited until tonight, of all times, to bring it up. Finally, she muttered one audible thought. "UGH." Mark stood from the bed behind her. "Karolina, please believe me, I could be NO sorrier than I am about this. This is exactly why I started going to therapy for it! The last thing I'd ever wanna do is hurt you. I never meant for any of it to happen." Karolina wasn't sure what to say. She was feeling very skeeved by this story. Mark didn't know if he was supposed to say any more just now, but he began a new sentence. "But-but I know—" "My mother??" "Oh, Karolina, please, I am so...so sorry." Karolina shut her eyes tight in disgust and vehemently shook her head for a second, as if she hoped she could jar this new unwanted information loose, and just forget about it. She tried to look up. "My M—...y—th—sh—f—..." Nothing would accurately express what she was feeling. Finally, she conclusively decided on— "...Ugh. Just...just...UGH." Mark evaluated that this news sufficiently grossed her out, and he couldn't say he blamed her. He could apologize until he was blue in the face, but at a certain point would achieve nothing beyond superfluousness. Unhelpful as he knew it was, he was out of ideas to render the situation more bearable. At last, Karolina spoke again. Actually, she shouted. "WHAT...the hell!" she burst out, turning halfway around but still unable to really look at him. "Ar—are y—...you're sayi—... "Let-let me get this straight. She forced you up to the bedroom, tied you up and raped you?!" Mark held up a finger to start to answer, but she wasn't exactly through yet. "W—...what happened, she dragged you in, kicking and screaming, threw you on the bed, held you down, and tied you to it?" "Well, not exactly..." "Well, Mark, for God's sake...did y—...did you at least try to run away? Or fight her off? Or anything?" "I—...I was scared!" said Mark. "I-I-I had just done something terrible, and in my mind she was taking me away like a little kid, to punish me...and she did kinda push me with the shoulders—I guess making sure I went the way she wanted me to—but otherwise, K—I...my-my little child instinct kicked in, I guess! I...I have to believe that; it's the only logical explanation I can think of. I...I don't think she would've been strong enough to drag me or hold me down if I'd tried to escape. But like I said, Karolina, I was scared. I thought she hated me. But even worse than that, I didn't know what degree of trouble I could be in." Karolina bent over and laid a hand on her stomach, though Mark's view of it was obscured. "And-and while it was going on, she was taping it. She had a camera set up there...in case she needed to...I dunno, I guess blackmail me later or something. And...and..." A sigh. "And when you just said you wanted to videotape us, it just...it just suddenly all came back to me." Karolina processed. So that was what had turned so awry so fast. But she had a bigger problem right now. Her tummy was churning, and she sensed something highly unpleasant was going to happen. "Karolina...please, please trust me, I di—" She held up her free hand. "Mark...I thi—..." She dry heaved a bit. "I think I'm going to throw up." "Oh, God," he mouthed, his face morphing to a grimace of pain and heartbreak. He was powerless. He didn't know what to do. Right now, it would not have been a very hot idea to say something like, "Well, I told you so!" For her own part, Karolina really was feeling ill. This sensation was slimy, creepy-crawly, sickening, and God only knew what else. She'd grown to love this man, finally decided after months of dating and courting byplay that she was ready to be intimate with him, and...ugh. Her Mom had...uggggggghhh. UGH, UGH, UGH!! She didn't care if it technically wasn't intercourse, or what. If she was correctly comprehending what he was telling her, it was still an act (or several) of bonafide sex relations, that was all that mattered. My mother...oh, God... She wasn't sure if she was angry at her Mom, or angry at Mark, or if she should be angry at anyone at all. She supposed she did feel a little ired towards Mark for taking this picture of her Mom's feet, if that was in fact what happened and started all this. For a brief second, she thought, Why the hell would you possibly be drawn to HER when y—... But before she finished that thought, she realized that oh yeah, she hadn't met Mark yet. Heck, he probably didn't even know she existed. Well, what a fine mess this had turned out to be. "Mark..." she finally decided, "...I think I, uh..." His ears perked up when he heard her addressing him. Oh, this was going to be painful for her to say and him to hear, but... "...I think I need you to leave." "Oh, Karolina, please, I—" She held up her hand to stop him once more. "Please...Mark, please...if you love me...just go. Just...for right now...I need to be alone. I'm-I'm not saying anything about you and me one way or the other right now...I'm just saying I need to be alone." And Here's To You Mrs. Svenningsson Mark's will at this immediate moment was to just stay with her and hold her tight for comfort until everything somehow washed over, but he knew it was no good. This was what she had decided for the moment, and he had to respect her wishes. He dressed and silently made his way out, leaving them both turmoiled and unsatisfied. *** December 28th, 2:21 p.m. The following several weeks progressed more or less like normal for Karolina and Mark, only sans each other. Karolina went on with school, and Mark worked and continued attending the Svenska Festare gatherings, trying not to admit to Annelie that he'd let their secret slip to her daughter. Aside, they spent their time alone, missing one another terribly, but feeling awkward about resuming contact. Speaking of awkwardness, when Karolina felt bold enough, she finally got up the guts to talk to her mother about what Mark had done to her and then vice versa. A few heated words were flung in Annelie's direction, but when Karolina calmed down, her mother managed to begin reconvincing her that she and Mark bore no feelings or designs on each other past only friendship, despite the anomaly of their disciplinary tryst. Karolina now understood things a bit better, and supposed it turned out to be a good thing if Mark learned to restrain himself from doing something like taking a person's picture without consent, but she still needed to let time heal the shock a bit more. So she let most of December elapse as well, including Christmas, before getting back in touch with Mark. At the same time, she really wanted to talk to him again before the rest of the year got away. And so on the early afternoon of 2014's final Sunday, she got herself to miss Mark just enough to pick up the phone. BEEP-bip-BOOP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BIP-boop-bip-BEEP. Ring...ring...ri— "Hello?" "...Mark?"... *** December 31st, 7:55 p.m. Mark had to admit that he was nervous returning to Karolina's dorm for New Year's Eve. In a way, it sort of felt like returning to the scene of the "crime," as it were. But just as having done with Annelie nine months before, he reassured himself with the reminder that Karolina had called him and said she wanted to start over. Like another first date. And so Mark decided to treat this as something of a special occasion. He put on a suit and tie, for a couple of reasons—one of which being that it was freezing outside—picked up a bottle of champagne, drove to the dorm under the crystals of lightly falling snow flurries, and parked. His heart was beating hard once more, like the first time he was to meet her. He took a myriad of successive deep breaths on the way to her room, did his quick moment-long meditation again, and banged out "Shave And A Haircut" on the door. A few seconds later came a response, also in knocking form: "Two bits." Mark chuckled, figuring this to signify that things were again okay, light and fluffy between them, a speculation that was confirmed when Karolina promptly opened the door and welcomed him in with a warm hug. "Mwah!" she voiced, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came!" "So glad you asked me," was all he could say. After breaking from the embrace, she noticed the champagne. "Aw, for me??" she said. "How sweet!" "Well, I...thought I would have some too," he half-joked. "Un—...uh...unless I have to drive back home tonight." She giggled. "Don't worry about it. I'll let you stay over...honey." *** December 31st, 11:30 p.m. The TV was on, and naturally tuned in to the chosen New Year's spectacular, which would begin airing in just another couple of minutes, as Karolina and Mark sat together on the love seat in front of the small table where Karolina had placed the veggie/dip tray and other goodies. Serving as half their dinner along with some mouth-watering take-out sub sandwiches, the veggies and other snacks were now more than half-devoured. Things were talked and ironed out, and Mark and Karolina felt they were about ready to pick up where they had left off back in October. "Part of me wants to pop the champagne now," Mark chuckled. Karolina sidled up beside him and caressed his face, about to make the love seat live up to its name. "I have a better idea." Aha, thought Mark. So this was a first date with the capacity of actually getting lucky. Their lips and bodies came together as the TV announcer described the situation going on in the frosty cold New York City weather, thousands of bundled-up citizens keeping warm with their layers of clothing and one another's body heat. Mark and Karolina may not have needed to bundle in the shelter of her heat-treated dorm, but nevertheless had their own way of staying warm. Within the span of another couple minutes, by 11:33, they were barely paying attention to the program about to begin. "Mmm...oh, gosh, how I missed this," Karolina moaned to him. "Can't be any more than I did," Mark replied. She smiled. "I don't care to argue about it, so I'll just say you're right and let that be the end of it," she purred. Mark's suit jacket had already been removed for him and placed on the back of one of the chairs in the dorm room. Mark felt safe this evening wearing an ordinary necktie with his dress shirt and slacks, not planning on anything frighteningly kinky taking place tonight. Luckily, Karolina now understood he'd been a bit scared and traumatized by this past experience, so she'd be tender and delicate with him. Not that she wasn't a gentle person by nature anyway. So his tie was taken off as well and placed with the jacket. Mark still wasn't sure if he'd be able to make love to her, but now with everything out in the open and under the bridge, so to speak, he guessed he would find out. And by God, he was double damn sure he was going to try. Something suddenly jumped in his way. Mark felt it inside. It needed out. "Wait...wait. Oh, shoot—" He quickly turned his head to the side. "Ahh...ahht-CHEW!" Karolina gasped as her body swelled with sudden giddy pleasure at the effect. "Oh my God, YES!" she cried, melting in his arms. "Oh, and God bless you!" He wasn't finished yet. "Ahhhht-CHEW!!" he repeated. "OH, a DOUBLE!" Karolina cried, already practically blown away. "Oh, God bless you, my darling!" Oh, that's right, thought Mark. I'd totally forgotten. Returning the favor, she whipped off her socks and showed him her feet. By 11:40, they were already half-undressed and letting their mouths handle all the breathing. They stole and stole back as many kisses from each other as possible while only taking time out to continue disrobing. The average temperature in the room was heating up, congruent with the rising action on the television screen in Times Square. Both the kids partially wanted to take things slower this momentous evening, savoring the fruits of their patient labor, but also both of them possessed what were by now blazing hormones in them which were prevailing, and would not permit delays. They wanted it too bad to wait. At 11:45 the last loose garment hit the floor. They were a bit too engrossed in the moment to get up and migrate to the bed just yet. They alternated dotting and peppering each other's flesh with randomly aimless lines of kisses as both recipients of said kisses leaned back in pleasure to be lovingly, erotically doted upon. Hands roved, wandered and fondled. Fingertips glid traces of hot, tangible love. Legs entwined and pressed firmly at the thighs. Genitalia swelled in hard arousal. They were young, they were frisky, they were spirited, active and ardent. They were ready. Mark was feeling confident and in control. He knew before it started happening. Not only could he make love to Karolina without fail, he was going to. And oh, how he was going to. 11:50. Both just about as randy as they were going to get until doing the deed, they finally managed to get up from the love seat, make their way the short eight feet to the bed, slide down and position themselves horizontally with Karolina on top of Mark, a setup with which he couldn't be more thrilled. She smothered him with lipprints and he reciprocated in turn, wrapping his limbs all around her. With a scant ten minutes remaining in 2014, neither of them thought of this exactly as a "race," per se, or a challenge to beat the clock, but they were both exhilarated to meet the end result. Finally, Karolina again opened her famished pussy and begged him to feed it. He and his trembling, pre-come-dripping dick obliged. And so incepted penetration. 11:55. Mark Thomas Numan and Karolina Astrid Svenningsson had virtually transformed into rabbits. Blindly horny, inseparably fornicating little bunnies. Too far along, they couldn't think about turning back now. This time, they were totally determined that nothing would kill their mood. Pump after pump, thrust after divine, vigorous thrust, intensity built and multiplied. Hot lightning bolts seemed to shoot up from the bed, searing into their bodies, electrocuting them with torrid, white-hot delicious goodness. It took not long for them to begin screaming in delirious joy. 11:57. Had either of them by now even remembered the TV was still on, it would have appeared the crowd filling Times Square was cheering them on to sexual greatness, the announcer narrating their action like an excited sports commentator. Moisture leaked and seeped from several regions of their bodies, now including their eyes. The act was so beautiful it literally made both their lacrimal ducts and their genitals cry. The stroke was magnificent and brilliant. The bed went up in barely figurative flames as they engulfed the entire room in wild ecstatic heaven. It wouldn't be long now. 11:59. T-minus sixty seconds, and exactly fourteen left until the spectacular lovemaking performed by Mark and Karolina produced the once-in-a-blue-moon miracle of a simultaneous double orgasm, catapulting them both to the moon. They deafened each other with their desperate, lust-soaking screeches, making love at a precedent practically never before known in mankind's history...until the stars aligned...and nothing would ever be the same again. "Forty-nine!...Forty-eight!...Forty-seven!..." At forty-six seconds remaining— Ka-BOOM. "AAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOHHH!!" Mark and Karolina exploded in a uniquely monstrous dual climax, splashing one another's nether-areas in warm, sticky love syrup. They strained, holding breath, cutting short their mutual oxygen supply, crushing each other in vise-like grips, trying to make the killer orgasm last for eternity. Outside, eager folks who couldn't wait were already lighting fireworks and other paraphernalia. And though they heard the premature shoots and sparks go off, Mark and Karolina mentally arranged the sounds in correspondence with their own act, and took them as majorly flattering compliments. "AAAAAAAHHHHH!! AAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAHHH! Aaaahh...ohhh..." they exclaimed together as the supremely world-rocking rollercoaster twin orgasm finally slowed down and let them off the ride, teetering Karolina off-kilter and from atop Mark's body onto the mattress alongside him, leaving them each spent, utterly drained of stamina, dripping with perspiration and hot ejaculate, dizzied and about to drop dead asleep, right as were in the bed. Just a few vertigo-dazed moments later— "Seven!...Six!...FIVE!!...FOUR!!...THREE!!...TWO!!...ONE!!..." The abnormally voluminous cheers that filtered from the crowd through Karolina's dorm's TV feed filled the entire room, and reawoke them just as they were about to drop off for the night. Their eyes refocused on each other, lying huggled together, side by side on the crumpled, sweat-stained but still welcomingly comfy mattress. They smiled as they realized. It was 2015. They shared their essential New Year's kiss as balloons, confetti and a rousing rendition of "Auld Lang Syne" accompanied the New Yorkers cheering in Times Square. They listened to the sounds of fireworks exploding all around them. "Happy New Year, sweetie," whispered Mark tenderly under the cacophony of the music and crowd cheering. "I love you." "Happy New Year, my angel," came Karolina's emotive, adoring voice back to him. "I love you too."