1 comments/ 7487 views/ 0 favorites CC By: loorslady I met "CC" over 16 years ago, at a time coincidentally, when we were both going through a painful relationship break up. I call her "CC" and she called me "Double D", which we still use when talking or referring to the other in conversation. "CC" is her bra cup size and at the time mine was double D so thus the names. Anyway, I was looking to make a drastic change in my appearance and decided to get my hair cut and streaked, and get my nails done in the most outrageous color I could think of! At that time I was working in the coffee shop in a large central jersey mall and so was "CC" in the hair and nail salon at Sears. They used to have salons in the big anchor stores at the mall back then. I didn't know anybody in the salon and didn't have an appointment so I took a seat and waited for the next free stylist, which just happened to be "CC" that day. I sat down, picked up a magazine when I heard the word, "Next" and was guided to a chair and draped with the robe they used and was asked, "Well what is the plan for today?" I looked up and saw "CC" for the first time and couldn't help but smile back at her wide eyed grin and cheery attitude. "I need to make a change and I thought I would start with my hair and nails", I said. "Okay, anything in particular?" "Let's trim it, streak it, and do my nails today, I'm feeling like I need to stir things up," I replied. So for the next three hours we talked while "CC" did my hair and nails and we found out our situations were similar and we had a lot in common. When she got done, "CC" asked if I felt like getting a drink or just hanging out and talking over coffee. "A coffee would be nice," I said and she got ready to clock out. I waited in the reception area until she came out and we left deciding not to stay at the mall. We went for coffee and talked for hours about everything, from family to men to work to music. We really did have a lot in common and it was nice to meet somebody who enjoyed the same things and really seemed genuine for a change. We became really good friends and most of the time we would hang out at my apartment and just watch television or talk and just be goofy. "CC" still lived with her parents at the time, she was 24 and I was 41 but we got along as if we had been friends forever. One night, we were joking and "toking" and we just got really stupid dancing around until we collapsed on the bed laughing like idiots. "CC" said to me, "Double, how would you feel, if neither of us is married or involved, we go to the top of the Empire State Building on New Year's Eve 1999 and get married?" I thought about it for a minute and said, "Sure, it's a deal!" And we rolled around laughing like nuts at the thought! "Let's seal it with a kiss," CC said and as we turned to face one another, we both got quiet and leaned in towards the other. Her lips were so soft and before I could think about what was happening, the kiss became more passionate. "CC" rolled closer and climbed on top of me and proceeded to kiss me harder. I responded tongue and all because my body was reacting to her tongue's playing with my own. It had been a while since either of us had been intimate with a man having been alone for at least the past 6 months and it just seemed natural to "go with the flow" of things and enjoy some harmless "making out." I reached out to touch her breasts and found a very hard and swollen nipple under my palm. I had the strongest desire to take it in my mouth and suck it until "CC" came for me. "Go ahead Double D you know you want to", and "CC" lifted her t-shirt to make it easier for me to do what I wanted. "CC" stood up and took off her t-shirt and my mouth went dry as I stared at her double C sized breasts, firm but bouncy and nipples that were dark brown and hard, just begging for my mouth to taste them. I looked at "CC" and she nodded and smiled. I gently rolled her right nipple in my mouth with my tongue and I could hear her moan softly as I did. It took all my self-control not to throw her down on my bed and suck her nipples but I wanted to be slow and gentle. I was soon rewarded for my tenderness when "CC" moaned, "Yes baby" and held my head as she orgasmed from my tongues manipulation of her sweet nipples. We spent the night exploring each other and trying everything we could to get the other to one orgasm after the other. I fantasize nowadays remembering how she felt sitting on my mouth and rocking back and forth for the longest time. "Oh fuck what a pussy she has!" Many a night were spent in each other's arms, although not always ending in sex but more times than not we "helped" each other work out our frustrations a few times a month over the next few years. We never did get "married" to one another but we did meet our husbands and nothing more was mentioned once we became involved in long term relationships. Nor did we "help" each other, no need; we had lovers to be with. However, 8 years ago "CC" was getting married and asked me to be in her wedding party as a bridesmaid. I jumped at the opportunity to share in her special day and she rented a room at the nearest Sheraton Hotel. We all, bridesmaids, moms, guests met the morning of her wedding to get ready and as is typical it was confusing and nerve wracking and fun and noisy! What do you expect with a hotel room filled to capacity with an excited bridal party and one really nervous bride! "CC" was pacing in her robe back and forth, back and forth making all of us nervous. Her mom pulled me aside and asked me to take "CC" in the bathroom away from all the noise and just talk to her and help her get ready and calm down. I took "CC" by the hand, led her to the bathroom suite, sat her down and proceeded to brush her hair and calmly talk to her so she could relax for a little while. Which was beginning to work until...she heard a knock at the hotel room door and realized it was her fiancé'. "Oh no, he can't see me, it's bad luck, tell him to go away", she hollered. All the calming I did went out the window and I just told her, "CC stand up let's get your stockings on so you can think of something else." What I failed to realize was that "CC" was not wearing any panties as a surprise for her soon-to-be-husband. When she dropped her robe, I was left staring at a neatly trimmed bush with nothing between my eyes and her pussy. I took a deep inhale of her scent and proceeded to put one stocking on her right leg to hook up to her garter belt. "CC" kept fidgeting and I put my hands on her butt cheeks to keep her still and without thinking I slowly leaned forward and stuck the tip of my tongue in between her pussy lips. "Oh", it was as sweet as I remember and for a moment CC stopped, looked down at me and opened her legs wider to give me room to lick her pussy like I wanted. "Mmmmm" was all she said and rolled her hips to give me a better angle so I could tongue fuck her snatch like I used to. Oh fuck she tasted so damn sweet and I knew I would have to redo my hair but her cunt was worth it! I did not hear the knock at the bathroom door but "CC" did and she answered her mom with a soft spoken, "I'm okay, Double D is keeping me calm and relaxed." I was more pissed that somebody was interrupting my meal and "CC" laughed at my groan at being disturbed. I was too busy "dining" on pussy to care and sat CC down on the side of the tub, spread her thighs as I got on my hands and knees and crawled between her legs! I licked her pussy, bit her lips and drank her juice every time she came! I felt her hands on my head and as she grabbed my hair and shoved my face and tongue deeper into her cunt, I knew she was close to coming! "Yes DD that's it..yeah..more..lick me..suck it..hear it comes..Here it comessssssss" and she gushed into my mouth and I licked each sweet drop of pussy milk she gave me!!! "More please more D it feels so good." I stood her up so I could taste those sweet dark nipples that fit so well between my lips. Her white lace bra barely covered her breasts and I was careful not to rip the lace when I unhooked it. Damn they were full and bouncy and her nipples were so hard and so ready to be tasted. Oh fuck they were stiff and cold to my tongue and I sucked them until they were warm and slippery in my mouth. I reached down and slipped my fingers into her wet pussy not the least bit surprised to find them coated with her "pussy milk." I brought my fingers up and rubbed the juice on her nipples and was pleased to hear "CC" groan each time I took a little bite of her flesh. I could have stayed there all day but her pussy was wet and I was hungry. I kneeled down and slowly pushed my tongue into her snatch, in and out as I tongue fucked her until she came, dripping down my face and on to the floor!! I could hear her breath slowing down as I continued to lick her pussy and her lips making sure I got all of her cunt syrup in my mouth. "CC" smiled down at me and whispered, "thank you DD that helped a lot!" With a final grudging kiss to her pussy, CC stood up, and I washed my face after we finished putting her stockings on. Of course her sweet pussy was still right in front of my face and just begging for more attention, but we did have her wedding to go to!! I have to laugh remembering how grateful her mom was for my calming CC down for her wedding. If she only knew how much I really enjoyed "calming" CC down!!! I hope her honeymoon is as exciting as her wedding day morning was and that her groom can take care of her like I can!!!!! CC Forum - Adventure Ch. 01 Professor Davis (name changed to protect his identity) had grown up as a teen reading the titillating tales of "Penthouse Forum." Those arousing letters that appeared monthly in print media were fuel for masturbation. But technology had rendered those offerings as obsolete, now replaced by the high-octane, instant-gratification driven capabilities of the internet. But Prof. Davis decided to mix the two and bring the "Forum" back on line in a new format. Although a respected Professor at a conservative Christian College, he was well aware that both he and the students on his campus were far from chaste during their free time. He anonymously established the "CC Forum" which quickly became popular to students on campus, then grew to a wider audience of students from other religious colleges and universities. Tucked away on a message board beyond the radar of college trustees, students flocked to the site to both read and offer their own submissions. These are their stories. ***** Midnight Student Radio Studio Shift Change A warm, spring rain was falling as I walked from my dorm to the student radio studio on campus. My shift was midnight to 2am. My job was to select the music, read hourly news briefs, and field any phone calls with requests or questions. When I stepped inside, I was pretty wet. Brianna, the DJ I was relieving, laughed as she saw me soaked. "No umbrella, eh?" she quipped as I shoved my jacket off. "Nope. It's a warm rain. Nice really. Take my advice, enjoy it yourself." I winked at her with a polite smile. As we traded places so I could take my place behind the mic, I made sure to enjoy the view of her for as long as possible. Brianna is a long, slender blonde and smoking hot, with tits that absolutely defy gravity. There was little doubt in my mind from the instant I saw her that night she was not wearing a bra. Her round, c-cup mounds were perky as ever under her teeshirt. I made sure to admire the sway and jiggle as she made her way to the door and pulled on her hoodie and zipped it up halfway, leaving her tits pushing apart the upper, unzipped flaps. "Have fun... and don't do anything I wouldn't do" she sung at me as she opened the door and stepped out into the dark night and spring rain. My heart skipped a beat as I captured a final glimpse of her curves as she walked out the door. As I sat in the booth initiating my playlist, I glanced at the clock. 12:01. Right on time. I had an opening set that would run right up to the bottom of the hour when I would play a request. Until then, I sat at the production board and listened to the tunes as I waited to field phone calls. That's when my dream unfolded. Brianna had walked out without her cellphone. She didn't realize it until she was halfway to her dorm room. She turned around and returned to the studio. It was 12:06 when the door opened and I saw her step inside. "Back so soon?" I playfully chided her. "Forgot my phone" she said. "Did you notice it?" When I said "no", it was the total truth. Because it was only a fraction of a second later that I noticed it laying on the counter in front of me. And in that instant, without any forethought, I slid it off the counter and deposited it in my pants pocket. I had no plan. I was just buying a little time to enjoy Brianna's presence. "Well I know I left it here. Can you help me find it?" As she stepped closer to me, I realized that it was still raining outside because her hoodie was pretty wet. And so was the part of her teeshirt that was left unprotected by her hoodie. The section that ran from her collar to just below the lower line of her tits. Wet. Clinging. Inviting to the eyes. I wasn't sure if Brianna realized just how revealing her tee was at the moment. She seemed to be preoccupied with finding her cellphone. It was possible that she was oblivious in her panic. I felt a wave of guilt for hiding it in my pocket. But I also felt a surge just to the side of my pocket where my cock was throbbing thanks to the up close view I was enjoying of Brianna. I acted as if I were searching for her phone when I was really searching for the best angles to admire her body. 12:08... I suggested that maybe she left it in the bathroom. I had not been there on my shift yet. She turned around and went to check. In her absence, I pulled her phone from my pocket and quickly slid it under a stack of file folders on the desk next to me. The studio phone rang. I answered it. "Request Hotline, what's on your mind this morning?" The caller stammered a bit and then rambled about some song she had heard at a concert on campus last week, wondering if I could identify and play it. As I tried to handle her request, Brianna returned from the restroom empty handed and desperate. 12:09... "HERE IT IS" she exclaimed in relief. "How did it get shoved all the way over here?" Her relief was tempered by her accusatory tone. She looked right at me and said, "Did you hide my phone?" I don't know what exactly made my knees buckle at that moment. Perhaps it was my secret lust pent up for her or the ripples of arousal that consumed my body or the light-headed daze I felt as I gazed at that sway and jiggle of her tits now more pronounced after she had unzipped her hoodie while in the bathroom. She sensed my hesitancy to offer a defense. She looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes, those amazing tits pressed against the wet fabric of her teeshirt. And I just folded. "I am sorry Brianna. Bad joke, eh?" I expected her to glare at me and tromp out the door in a huff. Instead, she stood for a moment and just looked at me. The edges of her mouth softened with tiny curls revealing a sly smile. Her posture relaxed. She held her phone in her hand. She quietly repeated back to me, "Bad joke?" 12:11... The studio phone abruptly rang. My moment of awkwardness was interrupted, thankfully. "Request Hotline, what's up?" I stammered. As I jotted down the caller's request, Brianna playfully sauntered to the other side of the glass that partitioned the sound booth from the rest of the tiny, little studio. I nervously took notes as I watched her movement cautiously. She maneuvered her body so that she could stand facing the glass, pressing her body against it. I fumbled with my pen as I watched her slither like a lap dancer, rubbing her wet teeshirt against the glass. She was looking straight into my eyes as if she could read my secret lusts for her without obstruction. I mumbled something into the phone and hung up. I stood motionless as I watched the most amazing view of Brianna I had ever seen. 12:13... My cellphone lit up with an incoming text. It was from Brianna. "Is THIS a bad joke?" I read the text and almost shot a load in my pants! Was this really happening? To me? With Brianna?! I shook my head stupidly in her direction, the glass partition making it impossible to share any sound between us. As she wriggled her wet form against the glass, she held up her phone and wiggled it at me to direct me. I quickly tapped my reply. "Not bad joke. HOT" She smiled as she read my reply. She tapped her phone. My phone lit up. "more?" 12:16... Like an idiot, I looked up at her and nodded yes. Then I got better command of my senses and texted her back. My cock nearly doubled in size when I saw the naughty gleam in her eye as she read my reply: "YES" She swiveled her hips as she playfully reached down and gathered her fingers around the lower edge of her tee shirt. She expertly used her arms to press her tits together, giving me an even better view of them against the glass. 12:21... Her tee shirt was edging up towards the lower curve of her breasts as my eyes devoured each and every inch of her on display. It was like a dreamy scene from a fantasy I dare never admit as I watched her finally slip her wet tee up over her amazing breasts! I gasped aloud as I watched her press them against the glass, flattening her pink, rosy nipples out like flower petals. I saw her fumble with her phone. Seconds later, mine lit up. "Jerk" My first reaction was fear, in that split second interpreting her message as an insult. But then I used both the glint and direction of gaze in her eyes to understand exactly what she meant. I peeled open my shorts and instantly stroked my cock. 12:24... Brianna slithered along the glass wall like a dancer drunk with lust. I stroked my cock as I watched her, like a perv at a peep show. 12:25... Then, just like that it was over! I blew my load as she affirmed me with her gaze. As I was wiping splatters of misguided cream from my thigh, she step back from the glass and slid her tee back down. By the bottom of the hour, she was headed back to the dorm and I was playing that request. We never spoke of that night ever again. It was as if we both knew better. It was our secret. Until now. CCSC Vignettes 01: Genesis Raithe *You kill the Wolf by trapping what it needs* (College, Humor, Mature Male, Young Woman, Warrior) (Thanks Jons for editing and Talonwolf for the idea) (This short story is grimmer than usual and will blend into the mainstream story after Chapter 32) (This is one of a series of short stories in the CCSC Universe told from a non-Zane perspective. I welcome suggestions. There is no actual sex in this one, sorry) * (Bryan) When people think of security contractors they see big firms like Blackwater or Sampson International -- legions of burly armed men blowing away terrorist all in the name of saving Uncle Sam a few bucks. I wasn't the biggest bad ass with the highest body count, or part of one of those "special" teams -- those guys who committing murder in places where the local government is scared to death of the people who employ them. Nope, I quickly fell into my calling -- protective security. What that translates over as is I took a small group of dedicated individuals into places were you daddy, your uncle and your crazy cousin Weasel-Head go out and kidnap people because the want a new X-box or a saddle blanket for their llama. I am not kidding you; yes there are large, professionally organized gangs whose sole purpose was to make companies and rich families' cash in the kidnapping insurance policies. The thing is, you put five armed professionals on someone and these jackals skulk off for leaner pastures. It is simply good business. Likewise the world has more than its share of vicious psychopaths too -- that translates over as drug cartels and mercenaries. If you send mercs after somebody, expect some serious collateral damage. If the some drug trafficker sends in the goons, expect serious collateral damage. Why would ever expect them to be different from one another? That is why you hire personal security; not to shoot the bad guys but to make the dangerous, smart bad guys not attack in the first place. After those scumbags depart the field, you have to deal with the amateurs. The capacity for anyone to pick up a dozen AK's and an RPG or two is frightening. People want to sue Smith and Wesson. Screw that and make a difference; sue the military apparatuses of the PRC, USA and Russia. I have had people shoot at me with S&W's and Remington's but I've lost count of the 7.62mm's and 5.56mm's that have zipped past my head. Yahoos' (amateurs) biggest problem is that they are cowardly idiots. Seriously, if you had a work ethic, you wouldn't be shooting at someone you didn't know and who didn't want to know you. You would also have more than a plan than 'they drive by and we shoot'. I can count the number of guys who would stand out in the open, trying to clear a gun jam -- seven as I recall. It felt like murder every time. I'd also not hesitate to do it seventy more times because I was right and they were evil, backstabbing thieves. Fuck their poverty; they were trying to take the lives of me and the only family that ever mattered to me. I did it because me and my people; we had a work ethic. Mercenaries swill -- protective security drinks bottled water. We never stop learning, training and working but we are never glamorous. In fact screaming 'shoot me and get your paycheck' is plain stupid. Now, I was trained by some pretty hardcore fuckers but they were neighbor flamboyant or from the warrior-elite. My Close Combat guy was this ugly ass ex-IDF (Israeli Defense Force). He loved me so much he let me call him a Jew bastard. I liked him so much I learned Hebrew then Arabic. They day I walked and called him a 'Jew-bastard' in Arabic he threw me through the window. Had we not been on the third floor it wouldn't have hurt too badly. It turned out he'd been captured and tortured by the PLO (Palestinian terrorists from long ago folks). They couldn't break him so they covered him in gasoline and set him on fire then danced around, calling him a Jew bastard in Arabic as he screamed. He apologized to me a few hours later and I gratefully accepted. Since I was still lying on a hospital bed, it seemed like the prudent course of action. He told me to hurry up and get better because I looked like a ghost. He used Yiddish though so it came out as Wraith. It is the little things that you end up treasuring the most. I hated the fact that I was on a contract when he died and that I missed his funeral. Me, and some of the guys, made it up to him. A few years later we took his granddaughter, her husband and their daughter to the Wailing Wall...just in case. I had told the Israeli Consulate what we were doing. I'm not sure what my instructor had done but we didn't get hassled by Israeli security once. Was Jacob the Israeli someone special? Nope. As far as we knew he wasn't even an ex-paratrooper, but he had this silent resolved that he imparted. There had been a time or two when I was shot or stabbed and the very thought of the pinprick I was experiencing versus being set on fire kept me going. Blackwater doesn't teach that. I was trained in the police-work side of thing -- do yourself a favor and at least touch base with the local law enforcement -- by a one-armed retired Federal Marshal; hardly super-cop. Don't give them your itinerary but let them know you are in town. Our marksmanship was learned at a shooting range; I think the guy was an off-duty Sheriff's Deputy -- no one special. They were all like me -- my team. Damn, I trained two of the five guys I worked with. Not everyone had the luxury of being 'trained-up' like me, but my instructors had giving me the foundation and in a few years I had the best team anywhere on the globe. I thought that is why Sampson International chose us. I was wrong; they chose us because they thought they could kill us. I lost two of my boys out of the gate and I lost my third when they were supposed to get us out. We kept our guy alive until my last man; he was shot through his vest, back to front, killing our principle as well. It was one hell of a sniper who took that shot. When I find her I'll tell her that...as I am crucifying her with her own bullets. Her team damn near killed me too. Apparently they thought I was dead like the rest of my team. I went after the architect of my demise; not the guy on the file's head. I knew this went all to the top, so that's who I killed. Had he used actual protective services he would be alive today, but he must have thought it was macho-cool to have his security detail made up of a 'special team'. It was fucking amateur hour. Come on now; getting from the building to the street-side vehicle is prime assassination territory. Had I not been so furious I would have been insulted. As it was I killed the bastard, reducing his head to a bloody pulp and I'm hardly master assassin material. I was a bit surprised to get out alive. In fact, I hadn't planned on it. What saved me was that rule about protective details and local law enforcement. In a major US metropolitan area, when the police see a well-dressed middle-aged white guy being chased down a semi-crowded street by two plain-clothed guys (one white/one black) wielding MP-5's, who do you think the cops engage? I dumped my car in Trenton NJ then caught a bus to Charleston WV, pawned my few remaining valuables for camping gear and made my way down the Appalachian Trail. I was careful and varied my path and struggled to figure out what the hell had gone wrong in my life. Now that all my family was dead (my ex-wife doesn't count) and I had achieved my revenge...what was I going to do next? (Genesis Oppenheimer) Then one day I saw two girls in camo sneaking through the woods playing sniper. They were hardly professional but they didn't suck either. A little hanging around taught me the times they came out so I could watch them...then I found myself taking private notes on how I would train them...fix their quirks and polish their skills. One day, the spotter turned around and looked right at me. I had let myself get stupidly close. For 20 seconds she stared then she rolled back and finished her role as spotter and then the pair left. She also left one and a half candy bars behind. The following session she carefully looked for me but didn't find me. Still, she left five energy bars wrapped in rubber bands. The following lesson, I studied that pairs' pattern, figured out where they were going and where they would set up then put a rock with a note on it covered with leaves in the spot I determined she'd lie down. She did settle there, felt the rock rubbing her thigh but she didn't move it in order to maintain her position. When they were ready to move, she looked around, appearing amused to NOT see me. She pocketed the rock without reading the note then said, "Dabney, let's find another spot. I think we are getting predictable." She had this little smile they shared as she moved away. I have done a good deed, I thought. He almost missed the glint as he moved off. She had left an inverted candy wrapper and, for all their faults, this group never left trash. The girl had even sneaked her planting the note passed him, she'd been so quick. Going over to get it was wrong too. I waited forty-five minutes. If nothing had happened, I would have left. Everything happened. Squirrels scampered, birds called out and bugs crawled, making small crunching noises underneath the forest floor. This told him that the girls had gone and if there was a professional sniper team out there, they were the best FBI team I'd ever encountered. If they were mercenaries...I'd skin them alive on general principle. I'd seen too much of their handwork out on the job to feel any other way. My essence screamed at me - that Core that saw the world in percentages and angles of attack and evasion - but I found myself doing a belly crawl over and get the wrapper. I didn't stop my cautious withdrawal until I was 100 meters away and put several large boulders at my back. Tn_TbSt_8p It was a horribly juvenile code. I almost laughed, imagining her going over option after option to creating something others couldn't decipher: Tonight Table-Stones 8pm. At least it didn't ask to meet me at the local McDonald's at noon. I gave the ghost of a laugh and set my feet on the trail leading far, far away from here. How the hell I ended up hovering behind her prone hiding spot that looked down on the Table Stones at 7:50, I couldn't rationalize. "Coming here alone," I whispered into her ear. The girl nearly jumped out of her skin. "Coming here alone and taking up the second most obvious vantage point exhibits far less smarts than you usually show. What do I call you?" "Genesis Oppenheimer," she whispered back. She still hadn't turned around. "What do you call you?" That was a question I should have already had a lie prepared for, but I didn't. "Bryan...Raithe," I said; "Genesis; as in the band?" "No silly - Genesis as in the first book of the Bible. My parents wanted lots of kids. I've never heard of a band named Genesis but I bet they rock out for Christ, don't they?" 'First things first; what kinds of parents name their kids after a book in the Bible. For that matter, how many books are there in the Bible? How ambitious where her parents? The only Oppenheimer I know built the first atomic bombs. And what's up with the rock out for Christ? What does that even mean?' then 'Oh God, I must be twice this girl's age. What am I even doing here?' My eyes wondered down the woman once more, but this time as a male of the species, not just a professional guardian, trained to spot and classify threats while keeping my charge under constant surveillance because you would be surprised some of the stupid ship people do when you are trying to save their lives. My trainer would smack me upside my head if he saw me like this. My old teammates were mocking him from Valhalla, even that tea teetotaler Guzman...yeah Guzman and his horrific puns. Hell there were these times I...I wanted to shoot him myself. "Fine Genesis, what are you doing here?" I asked and suddenly there was my 'old mind' churning once more. Name, location, direction, destination; all aspects of job...but I wasn't working anymore. I had surrendered the possibility of me ever working again. The only God damn thing I had done well and loved doing...and my career was now just another corpse on the fire. They'd even shot my damn dog. I'd liked the dog, but it had been my ex-wife's. The dog and Ihad never worked out custody of the bitch either. He was probably in Hell, wagging his tail and loyally waiting on that cheating lying whore. The Devil already had Bryan Raithe. "I," she was about to lie but then, "you looked so lonely, like you had not talked to anyone in a long time," Genesis confessed. I took in her body, or what I could see of it. She was damn nice, solid but not fat and absolutely not willowy. By the cut of her clothes I'd seen earlier, her God had lavished her with gifts where her chest was concerned. Her hair was the darkest blonde head ever seen, her body was athletic and her ass was well...I was poised over her prone form...both available and only made more inviting by proximity and my own deprivation. "Lonely," I snapped. "Really...you go out into the woods after dark because some Grizzly Adams mother-fucker looked lonely? I could be raping you to death right now." "Please don't do that," she shivered fearfully. I knew the hallmarks of both arousal and fear and this was not some wacked-out slut who took crazy risks with total strangers. She actually fucking cared. Bryan Raithe, me, didn't believe it. I didn't believe that about people anymore because thinking like that got you dead. I shifted my hands so that my gun rested between her left shoulder blade and spine. Holding the rifle's trigger in one hand I flipped the safety on before sliding a hand to her ass. I unzipped my pants for the auditory effect then began pulling the back of her skirt up and caressing her pantie-covered butt cheeks. Genesis started muttering. "What are you doing?" I questioned. "I'm praying," she answered. "God won't save you," I mocked her. "I wasn't praying to God to save me. I was praying for God to forgive you when you kill me," she sniffed. "What? Just like that you are giving up?" I snarled. I was so upset about her pathetic reaction that Genesis' shoulder twist caught me totally off-guard; if my old instructor was here he'd be kicking my nuts out of my ears. She rolled to her side, still beneath me, and drove the heel of her palm into the bottom of my jaw. I saw stars. My buddies in Valhalla were laughing at me again. Genesis kept shifting until she could drive her knee into my crotch...or she would have if I had been 15 years younger. Unfortunately, 15 years had made me a mean-as-a-snake fighter and I had more tricks up my sleeve than Genesis had gold stars in Bible Study. It took me four seconds to block her blow, smash past her arms and then further quarter second to realize if I pushed down any harder I'd pop Genesis' head off her shoulder. I removed my hand from her throat and we both began panting heavily. Genesis was panting because she had nearly been strangled; I panted because I'd nearly lost control and killed a young woman. I flopped off of her and scuttled away. "Ummm..."saying 'I'm sorry' didn't seem the right thing to say, so I went with, "That was a good hit." "I, um, thank you," Genesis rasped. "This semester Coach Gorman has been emphasizing more practical moves than tournament wins." "That's stellar," I responded. "Now get out of here." "Book bag," she motioned. I was virtually sitting on it. I scooped it up and began to toss it her way. "No, it is for you - things you might need," Genesis insisted. "There's an battery operated no-foam rotary razor, some Bunsen burners, a prepaid phone, a prepaid credit card with $200, various powdered foods, vitamins, anti-bacterial soap, energy bars and...deodorant." "Where did you get this all from?" I was suspicious once more. "I have a friend who has a friend who is a car thief and shoplifter," Genesis looked ashamed to admit the association. "The phone and credit card are from me but that's my allowance for the month and then some." "I don't get it?" I studied her. "You looked like you needed help. For me, that is enough," Genesis revealed. "Get the hell out of here and thanks," I warned, "but don't come looking for me ever again. Evil things happen in the world and Good People only make it easier to be the victim." "Oh...okay," Genesis seemed to deflate. "Bye." "Bye," I slumped as the remnants of the weight of my existence came crashing down once more. "Bryan," I told her my name. "Bye Bryan," she began walking away. I had to move, dump anything that looked like it might have a tracking device and head south. Georgia sounded good. "Bryan...would it help you if I performed fellatio on you?" Genesis asked with a vulnerable honesty I could barely remember hearing before. "What!" I flashed to awareness. "What did you say?" Genesis was totally embarrassed. "Did I use the wrong word? I was trying to convey my willingness to put your penis in my mouth and...do stuff," she trembled. "You give a lot of blowjobs?" I tilted my head. Here was the poster child for the Christian wife declaring her willingness to polish my knob. "No, I've never given one before but I could go back to campus and learn enough to do it for you tomorrow night," she pledge diligently. "They have a sex club too?" I chuckled. I no longer feared this being a trap set by my enemies; it was far more probable that I was being set up by Punk'd...who were probably my enemies too. "No but we do have one boy I've been told can be handed around for lessons," she informed me. "You have a slave?" I balked. Was I about to be part of some perverse recruitment style? "Oh no, he's a student and we let him go home on weekends, but normally he has five or six girls at a time"," she informed me. By that, I assumed there was some guy who had five or so girlfriends at one time - lucky bastard. "Don't do anything you don't want to do or that put you at risk," I stood up. "Promise me you won't pull anymore stupid stunts like tonight." "I promise," she smiled, "and tomorrow I'll try and give you a blowjob." I sighed because I had forgotten how young people filter the world into the two categories: the things they want to hear and everything else;which they ignore. It didn't matter; I was getting the fuck of out dodge anyway so what happened to her was no longer my problem. I was clean but I could use some body spray, a shave, some after shave and maybe a little cologne...wait; where did that come from? I was on the run, not on a date in rustic Virginia damn it.