2 comments/ 9707 views/ 2 favorites Cancer Ch. 01 By: Erotic-Kiss "Cancer." The word hung in the air like a suffocating cloud. How could that be? He was only, what, 26? How is it possible that this vibrant, exciting, intelligent man had been betrayed by his own body? "Oh," I typed, trying to think of what to say. Wanting so desperately to say the right words but in my mind all I could think was "why" over and over. "I've been sick for a while." The words made me feel like I had been whisked into a tornado. A while? What was "a while?" I had known him for a year online...we had flirted and talked about this and that, sharing some laughs and a few difficult times, but nothing so important as this. I didn't even know his real name! And NOW he tells me...now that the flirting had gotten to be my biggest pleasure online. Now that I had started to think about him more and more often, relishing the emails sent, loving to hear about anything and everything important to him. "What's the prognosis?" I typed it, wanting so much to hear that it was nothing. Wanting to hear that it was some 'little' kind of cancer. A little spot on his cheek from too much Georgia sun, perhaps? "It's my lung." And again, the cloud fell over me. Lung cancer. Not exactly an easy cancer. And so the conversation went. He was on his way to the Doctor the next day. The choice was to be made about a pretty serious surgery, removing the traitorous lung or not. I encouraged him as best I could and the words just sort of fell from my fingertips in an easier manner than I would have imagined. I didn't have to think with this man. I just typed as I would speak, trying my best to convey the faith I suddenly felt in my heart that he would be alright. I thought perhaps I had made my point and so we signed off for the night. Once again, I dreamed about him. But it wasn't about the "C" word. It was about everything I had known before. His humor, the way he winked at me when he was being flirtatious or naughty, picturing his fingertips on the keyboard of his computer, caressing the keys. There was nothing sexual about my dream, really, but I awoke to find my heart racing and the thought of those fingertips on my mind.... My dream told me everything I needed to know, although it was pretty vague, like a series of snapshots. Nowhere in that mental picture album was his health problem. There was no thought of it when the thoughts were purely subconscious, so it didn't matter. And anyway, we were just friends. Friends that flirt. I put the thought out of my head and went about my day, thinking of him in vague terms and turning off my thoughts when they turned more specific. I had made the decision to allow him into my world, and I would, as any friend should, support him with whatever decisions he made at the Doctor's office. I prayed, though, that God would guide him toward the right decision. That night I played a game online, really hoping I might run into him, as I had been doing so much lately. It was getting late, though, and I knew he was tired most of the time. I was quite sure he was sleeping, his body trying to regain the strength that the big day had probably taken out of him. I sighed and told the other players I was tired and going to bed. Just before I logged off I was blindsided by his name in the gameroom. My fingers flew like the lightning that had gone up my spine at the sight of his name. "NG NG NG!!!" and he typed several brackets with my screen name inside them, signifying a hug. All I wanted to do was feel it... I stayed another hour that night, playing the game and flirting mercilously with him. His quips and comebacks were even faster than usual tonight, and the flirting between us raged back and forth in the room, amusing all of the other players to no end. After that hour I knew he was tired and suggested that he get to bed, and I did the same. The goodbye was long and drawn out, like two 13 year olds saying "No, YOU hang up!" I laughed to myself and he did as well when I mentioned that I was having a hard time turning off my computer while he was still available. He disappeared, like the gentlemen he was, shortly thereafter, ensuring me some rest. I had laid in my bed for an hour, unable to stop thinking about him when I realized I had not even asked him about his Doctor's appointment. I sat bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding a million miles a minute. Would he think I had forgotten or I didn't care? I hadn't forgotten...I had just gotten so swept up with the flirting and the light that eminated from him that I had completely put the "C" word out of my head! I hopped out of bed and onto the computer, glad I hadn't closed it down for the night and hurriedly typed an email, sure it would sound trite. "I thought about you all day, but just didn't get a chance to ask you about the appointment. Tell me how it went." I signed off and went back to bed. I had an answer the next day and hurriedly opened my email. He had decided that the surgery was the best option. I felt like he had made the right decision and my heart swelled with hope. I signed onto the game and hurriedly searched the room. There he was.... We spoke a lot that night. About his fears, about how nobody else online knew what was going on with his health. About his life and mine and the things that seemingly "clicked" between us. The flirting became pretty comfortable, not more than I would with anyone else online that I liked. I was very careful about that. I just didn't want to lose his friendship because I carried some kind of schoolgirl crush on him in my pocket like a lucky charm. Suddenly, things changed. One flirty comment I made about kissing his neck elicited a more serious comment, and I held my breath waiting for his "lol" to come rolling off his fingertips. It didn't. Then suddenly my mind was racing, thinking about him more sexually than I ever had. I couldn't play the game. My points dropped. Players I knew were confused, asking if I was alive and still playing. I was so lost in the thought of the warm skin over his pulse that I almost signed out twice, blushing the entire time. And then, there it was...a sentence I barely remembered typing. "I would kiss your neck for hours." Did I type that??? Oh Lord, what if he said "well, yeah, if I let you!" I held my breath and waited what seemed an eternity for the round to end and him to respond. My fingers hovered on my mouse, ready to click the black "X" at the top of the page as soon as I'd been put in my rightful place. What the hell was I doing?? "I'd let you." That was all he said. That was it. I didn't know what to do or what to say at that point, so amazed that he had chosen those words. I wanted him to let me. I wanted him to want me to. I wanted...so many things that my mind just raced. And then suddenly things were back to normal. Light flirting. Laughing and being the entertainment in the game room. Others laughing at our antics. I had imagined the entire thing, apparently. Wishful thinking. And thinking I was! As much fun as I was having, I couldn't get the thought out of my head. Kissing his neck. Feeling his pulse beneath my warm tongue... and I admitted as much in a flash of bravery that shocked even me. When he admitted as much in return I was completely lost. The game went on, but I was completely lost in other thoughts, and I lost miserably. I noticed, though, that he was playing well. "I should be getting to bed, Bunny" he said and I knew it was true. It was an hour later in Georgia than it was in Nebraska. He was tired and frankly, so was I. And then, due to lack of sleep or simply bravery, I did it. "Do me a favor? Don't talk for a minute." And with those words I had sealed it. I was going to take what I needed from him, albeit only online. I typed that I put my hands on his face and lowered my lips to his, breathing in his breath and caressing his tongue with mine. In that moment, there was nothing in the outside world. Nothing except his mouth. I apolgoized profusely and to my dismay he reacted positively to my words. "I have wanted that all night." All night? What? He had? My mind was racing as I saw the letters pop up on the screen. I couldn't say anything for a moment...but I didn't have to. He touched my face and kissed me. He kissed me this time. Was I dreaming? Why? All I knew for sure is that my breath had caught in my throat and I was trembling. Trembling at words on a screen. I couldn't focus and I felt like I would never breathe again. I hurriedly whispered a quick goodbye and left the game room, desperately sorry I had as soon as my screen went blank. I had run. This was crazy. I wanted things I couldn't have. And so it went. I ran into him again the next day and we talked. Neither mentioned the kisses, or their effect. We did, however discuss sex. We talked for hours about what we liked and didn't, our experiences and what we truly wanted. He had been ignored by the women he had been with. I had been hurt. And all the time I just wanted to touch him. With every quip about sex and every story about dissatisfaction, I wanted to fix it. How could those women be so blind? Although I'm sure being touched by his hands would be heaven, how could you not want to touch and give pleasure in return? In my mind I likened it to meeting an angel. They lay their hands on you and you feel blessed, but wouldn't you want to touch their wings? And so that has led me here. Onto this plane bound for Georgia. On the pretense of a trade show, I arranged this trip through my work. My destination was about 100 miles from his home and I had offered to see him while I was "in the area." Could he see through the guise? Did he know the only reason I was heading for Georgia was to see him in person? Hoping desperately to see in his eyes the passion of those few shared kisses weeks before? Would he treat me like a sister? Like a friend? My mind raced through the entire flight and I felt half dead when my feet touched Georgia soil. I grabbed a cab to my hotel and settled in, glancing at the clock to make sure I had enough time to settle in before I was supposed to meet him for dinner. Him. It still amused me that we had not exchanged names. Not real names, anyway. How could I feel like I knew so much about someone without even knowing what moniker his parents had saddled him with? I giggled at the thought that his name might be "Fred" or something equally dull-sounding. Would he mind that my parents had named me Sandra Dee? I certainly wasn't a blonde bombshell. A knock at my door 15 minutes later startled me. Shrugging, I went to the door and opened it. The bellman stood in the doorway smiling at me. "You have a visitor, Ma'am, but for safety reasons we will not allow him up the elevator without your okay." A visitor? I glanced at the clock and realized it was an hour and a half early for him to be showing up! I swallowed hard and asked who it was. "He said to just tell you it was NG." I glanced down at my clothes, rumpled from the flight and told the bellman to let him up. As he walked away I hopped into the hallway and said "Sir!" As he turned I blushed, looked down and asked simply "what does my visitor look like?" He just smiled and gave me the thumbs up as I slunk back into my room, heart pounding. A few moments later, after I had brushed my teeth and thrown on a different shirt there was a knock at the door and I hesitated, took a deep breath and opened it. There he stood. Tall. I hadn't thought about that. He had to be at least 6'1 or 6'2. Compared to my 5'6 frame he was much taller than I was. I let my eyes travel up from his feet to his face, blushing and stammering, trying to spit out a few words that seemed to tangle on my tongue. When my gaze reached his eyes, I stopped dead in my tracks and the words spilled out of my mouth in a rush..."I can't believe you're here!" The hug came as quickly as the rush of words and I felt his thin frame tense just briefly before his arms wound around my back and he squeezed me tight. "Can't believe *I* am here?" he quipped. Things came easily after that. He sauntered over and plopped down on the bed, sitting at the foot looking like a dream as I nervously took the chair opposite him. We talked briefly about the flight, his car trip and I began to regain my composure. I'm not a nervous person, even around new people, and my natural effervescence soon took over as I kicked off my shoes and curled up in the chair, talking endlessly about everything, just so content to be in his presence. Sometimes he smiled and laughed and he looked so happy that it took my breath away. I couldn't help noticing that he looked tired after about an hour and I mentioned his treatments. How were they going? Was he okay traveling this far to see me? He assured me that he was fine. Other than getting tired easily and not being able to walk for too long a period at a time he was pretty happy at the moment. I blushed and he laughed, spurring me into action. In a flash I was across the little room and hugging him with all the strength I had. I felt his arms go around me and hug me back and I felt like the world was a perfect place. We broke the hug and I offered dinner downstairs. It was a pretty nice place, so I needed to change my clothes and begged 20 minutes to shower and change. He laughed and said I looked just fine, but I felt a compulsion to look nicer for him, wanting to see what he would think. After about two minutes of arguing I handed him the remote control for the tv in the room and he aquiesced. I slid into the bathroom and turned on the shower, taking a deep breath. I needed to get away for just a moment and gather myself anyway, and a shower would be the perfect 10 minute escape. As I slipped my clothes off and into the shower I did a lot of fast thinking. "This is great. He's charming and kind and funny in real life, too. It's okay that he hasn't looked at you in any way that would tell you he's interested. You're blessed just to know him." And I was. I didn't pretend to myself that the attraction wasn't there on my part, but I came to terms very quickly with the fact that those few stolen kisses weeks before were a one shot thing. I scrubbed the travel dust from my hair and body with my favorite vanilla scented shampoo and soap and felt much better as I emerged from the shower. Toweling my hair off, rubbing it over my shoulders and breasts and then down my legs before I made a startling realization. My clothes were still hanging in the other room! Sticking my head out the door, just a little bit, I stammered. "Um. I seem to have left my clothes in the closet. You wouldn't want to be sweet and hand them to me, would you?" Without even looking away from the television I heard his voice in amusement. "Nope. I don't. Guess you'll just have to come out and get them." What??! "Oh, come on. Fun's over. Hand me my robe at least. It's on the chair by the bed." "Nope." I could hear the amusement in his voice as I saw his head finally turn to look at my face peeking through the door. The grin on his face was priceless. I couldn't help laughing, too. OK. I'll just treat this like I would any of my male friends. He has no interest, so me in a towel isn't going to be any big deal, I thought. I took a deep breath and wrapped the towel around me and stepped into the room. "Fine" I said, laughing at him like I didn't care. I even took my time at the closet, pretty sure he wasn't paying a bit of attention to me. "Your hair is dripping down your back, by the way," he said, voice lazy. I turned to smart off to him but before I could I caught his eyes travel up my leg to my exposed thigh where the towel came together. I blushed terribly and pulled the towel closed and yanked my clothes out of the closet, hell bent on getting my ass back in the bathroom where I could gather myself again. My own wishful thinking was getting the best of me as I saw his eyes follow me. I shook my head a little as I stood in the bathroom clutching my clothes to my chest, trying to catch my breath. "Stop it, Sandra." Whispering to myself, I hurriedly put on my black bra and panties and toweled my hair yet again. As I slid my thigh-highs (worn for comfort, not for sex appeal) up my legs I calmed down quite a bit. He's such a great friend. This is wonderful. I keep saying those things over and over, willing myself to stop looking at his mouth, to stop thinking about being more than his friend. Much more. I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom, snidly throwing a "thanks for your help" at him as I reached down to grab my black heels and slide them on my feet. "You just didn't ask for the right kind of help, or I'd have gladly obliged!" His voice was full of humor, but when I turned around his eyes were staring right at me...burning a hole through my facade. Or so I thought. "oh yeah? And what kind of help would you have offered, smart ass?" I had a grip now. I could flirt with my friends, so I could flirt with him. "I'd have helped you towel off, of course. I guess I'll just have to save my help for when you need that dress unzipped." "Dinner." It's all I said as I stood by the door and opened it, gesturing for him to hurry up. We walked downstairs and I could sense that he was a little tired. When he seemed to lose his balance all of the sudden I instinctively reached out to him and put my arm around his waist. He smiled. "Better?" I asked. He smiled and put his arm around much shoulder. "Much," he said. And I chose to believe that it was about the balance issue, and not my arm around him. Dinner was lovely. He ordered a glass of wine for me, which I was obliged to drink, but only after I warned him about its effects on me. "Just so you know," I informed him, taking a sip and letting it slide down my throat, "wine makes me relaxed. I'll tell you absolutely anything after three glasses." Some women say that kind of thing to excuse their behaviour. With me it's a genuine warning. All of my censors shut off after three glasses. He just smiled and ordered his dinner from the waiter and then whispered something to him before I ordered. "What was that?" I asked. "oh....nothing." I cocked one eyebrow and just decided it was fine and took another sip of the white wine before me. As our salads arrived the conversation was getting pretty comfortable again. We talked about our mutual love of animals and music, the differences in childhoods and our college years. As the salad was placed in front of me I was a little shocked to see a bottle of wine being brought to the table by the wine steward. "What is THIS?" I asked. He just grinned at me and cocked his head to the side, his smile charming as he simply shrugged. Dinner was lovely, as was the bottle of wine. It seemed like my glass was always full, thanks to his constant refilling of my glass. I knew he hadn't had even a full glass, and probably shouldn't have even that much. The bottle was gone pretty soon after dinner and we were laughing and I was telling him all the stories I never tell anyone. "So. When you kissed me in that game room, did you really want to?" His voice was casual as he relaxed back into his chair, eyes on me and a grin on his face. "I refuse to answer that!" I laughed slightly nervously, picking up my wine glass and moving to take another drink to cover my embarrassment. As I brought it to my lips I stopped dead in my tracks and looked over the glass at him. "I get it! I know what you're doing now! Well, if you want to know, I'll tell you. I have nothing to hide." I waited for him to excuse me from the question, but he simply looked at me with a curious smile on his face. That's when my personality kicked in overtime. I'm always honest and I'm never afraid to say what I think. By God, if he wanted to know, I was going to tell him and he would be the one that ended up blushing! Cancer Ch. 01 "Yes, actually. I really wanted to. I felt such a strong pull to do so that I opened myself up to possible ridicule from you. It worked out okay, though, don't you think? I mean, I distinctly remember you kissing me BACK!" Thinking I'd put him in his place I sat back in my chair with a smile and took another sip of wine, watching for the blush I just knew was coming. "It worked out beautifully. I wonder sometimes why we have not done it since. It's certainly not from a lack of desire to on my end, Bunny." The blushing started, but unfortunately it was on the wrong side of the table for my tastes. I felt the warmth creep into my cheeks as I struggled to hold his gaze. What do I say to that? I decided to go with the simple truth. "I didn't think you wanted to, so I never kissed you again." I leaned forward, forearms on the table and looked him directly in the eye, waiting to hear what he would say next. It felt almost like a showdown in the middle of Dodge at noon. I'm a willful women, when I put my mind to it. My fingertip ran up and down the stem of the crystal wineglass, the only indicator that I was a little nervous waiting for his response. When it came I almost tipped the glass over. "You were completely incorrect on that assumption, little Bunny. I hope we can recitfy that this evening." And with that he finished the splash of wine left in his glass with authority and made a move to pay the check, no longer looking in my direction at all. Sliding the credit card from his wallet, he gestured to the waiter and handed him the bill and card with a confident flourish and then returned his gaze to me. "But, I need you to know something." "What's that?" I asked. Almost sure that he was going to tell me it wouldn't mean anything if it didn't happen. "You know I'm ill. I want to remind you of that. This evening cannot be everything I want, nor can it be everything you want, I suspect." He looked so matter of fact that it stunned me for a second. Here he was, reading my mind, confident in what I wanted, when he didn't have any idea. "Oh, really?"I leaned over the table conspiratorially, knowing the shock value of what he was about to hear, but not wanting to share it with the rest of the quiet restaurant. "what is it that you THINK I want?" He just smiled and reminded me of our little talks about sex. About how I enjoy the intensity of animal sex occasionally. About how I like to be dominated sometimes. How I love to be told what to do, as long as it fits in with what I *want* to do. About how I wanted someone to be powerful. "I'm just not well enough yet to be an athlete in bed. Like it or lump it." He seemed so smooth. So confident about it. So unfeeling. I stopped for a minute and looked beyond that. I looked into his eyes for several seconds, searching there for the truth. I found it when he had to break our gaze. I saw that it bothered him. I stood up gracefully from the table and extended my hand to him.It took him a brief second to stand up as he searched my eyes, still trying to put on the air of a man unconcerned with what I thought. "We'll get your card at the register. I need to show you something." I whispered, and we walked out hand in hand, my nervousness completely gone. He gathered his card at the front quickly and we again ascended the 4 stairs to the elevator, my arm reaching out instinctively to steady him. It felt so natural there that it just stayed as he swung his arm up over my shoulder. Not a word was said on the elevator. Both of us just watching the numbers light up as it ascended to the 11th floor. I opened the door and threw my purse on the chair, turning to face him almost immediately. "Is that really what you think I want from you, NG? Do you really think I want you to throw me on the bed and make love to me?" I didn't look away or break his gaze. "Well...yeah..." his voice trailed off as he looked at me with the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. "Well, it's not." I walked over and touched his face, my high heels enabling me to be just enough taller that it wasn't a stretch. "Let me show you," I whispered. "Let me show you what I truly want. What I've always wanted." And with that, I pulled him to the bed, pressing him to sit on the edge. He looked so frail at that moment, as if he hadn't been touched in so long...his beautiful eyes pleading with me to touch him, as if he needed me... I reached down and slowly slid the first button of his shirt out of its home, caressing gently inside it. When his hands reached up to undo the other buttons I pushed them away slowly, eyes meeting his stare. "No...let me...." The second button was easier, then the third as I watched my hands work them free. As I got to the last button I hesitated and then quickly grabbed either side of the gray/blue silk and pushed it over his shoulders and down his back, trapping his arms with the shirt before I reached down to kiss his neck. Gently...like a butterfly's wings against his pulse, caught up in the taste of it, feeling my heart beat out of my chest with excitement. I kissed up his neck slowly, softly, tongue flicking in and out like that of a viper's, tasting the slightly salty tinge of sweat as his body shivered and a little moan escaped his throat. When I reached his ear I breathed in the scent of his hair before nuzzling it and whispering "all I ever really wanted was to kiss you. All over. To have you lay back and let me worship at the altar of your body." I felt him shiver and draw in a deep breath. Knowing that he had not had anyone say that to him before, much less mean it. Of course, I wanted to be touched as well, but that was not for this night. This night was about my fantasies becoming reality...about tasting every inch of his warm skin, about making him feel worshiped, about explaining without words my need to touch him. Drawing back, I looked into his eyes again, both hands on either side of his face... "But you have to give yourself to me. Give me everything. And you have to tell me you want it." He shuddered briefly, still sitting with his hands pinned as if he'd forgotten them and took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can. But I want to." "That's all I needed, baby." I said, "except one more thing...." "anything" he muttered. "Your name." Cancer Ch. 02 "Zackary." The word hung in the air, heavy, languid. His voice seemed a bit hoarse as he searched my face as if asking if it was enough, if he was enough. It suited him, I decided, and whispered, eyes locked with his... "You're beautiful, Zack" palms raising to run over his face, smoothing the worry lines from around his forehead and eyes and slipping down to cup his cheek and then wander slowly toward his neck. He immediately nuzzled my hand like a kitten, pressing toward my touch. Unbuttoning the final button on his shirt, I slipped it from his shoulders and threw it on the chair beside the bed, hearing the material slide to the floor and end up on the carpet. I knelt down between his knees, eyes never leaving him. "I want to make love to you. The way you should have been made love to all this time..." and I planted a soft kiss in the middle of his chest, feeling his heart race beneath his pale skin. I could feel his arousal starting, poking just below my breasts as I pressed my lips over and over to his chest, finally running my tongue gently around his nipple, then lapping it with the flat of my tongue, over and over and over. I saw him just stare at me, his breath coming faster now as I pressed my body closer to his and squirming just slightly against his zipper. It felt so good, but I wanted to pretend this was all about him, that my needs just didn't matter...and so I ignored the heat zinging through my veins and continued my slow decent down his torso, stopping to pay special attention to the scar that stood out against his soft skin. "Don't kiss that. Please? It's ugly...please don't..." he uttered, covering it with his hands, then doubling his arms over his chest. Gently I took his hands in mine and kissed them...each knuckle in turn then turned one over and kissed his wrist, again tasting the pulse that made my own leap. "It's part of you...and it's what brought you here. That scar saved your life, Zack. Without it I wouldn't be here with you...and you couldn't be here with me." Moving his hands away, I kissed it again, feeling him tense and then relax, his hands going to my hair and lightly stroking it, making me whimper a little bit without meaning to. This was about him. This was about him. I kept telling myself that over and over as the fire shot up my stomach with every light caress of his hands. When my mouth reached just above the buckle of his belt I stopped and leaned back. His hands hurriedly went to the buckle and I once again pushed them away. "No. Me" was all I had to say. He looked a little sheepish as I pulled him up from the bed to stand before me. The scent of his skin was overwhelming to my senses, but barely distinguishible from the smell of my own vanilla soap and I breathed in deeply, once again watching his face for any sign of discomfort or unwillingness. In all this, I still expected him to run from me...from my touch... He smiled gently as my fingertips made short work of his belt buckle, sliding the leather out of the loops on his pants with a soft hissing noise. My eyes never left him. They were all I needed to see. I was eager to see his body, but I couldn't drag my gaze away from those eyes... Running one finger down his chest I took the button of his pants in the other hand, then let my hands work together to slide it from the buttonhole and softly unzip the offensive material. I wanted him naked so much I was almost shaking, but I kept telling myself that slow was better. He needed to be gentled, like a wounded animal. I saw that fear in his eyes mixed with something I dared not even think about. Pushing his pants down around his knees I urged him to sit back down on the bed and knelt again to untie his shoes and remove them and his socks, finally pulling his pants completely off and rising to toss them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He simply sat there, boxer shorts rising up to show me his thighs, but nothing else. I stood before him, putting my heel-clad foot up onto the bed beside him and unbuckled it, one foot and then the other, replacing my foot beside him once again to slowly strip the thigh-high stocking from my left leg. As soon as it was off I felt his hand slide up the front of my leg and then to the lower part of my thigh. I removed my leg quickly, shivering at his touch and again reminded myself of my goal for the evening. It seemed that any touches from him drove me too wild...I was going to have to keep it together. I thought I could-- if I could just keep him from touching me back too much, but God how I ached to feel his hands on me... Removing the other stocking I turned my back to him. "I think you promised to be of assistance with the zipper on my dress...." I said, with a little bit of humor in my voice. "Oh, yeah, that's right" he muttered, rising and unzipping my dress slowly, taking his time. The warmth from his hands shot through me from the other side of the black material and I turned quickly toward him. "Thanks." I pushed him back down slowly onto the bed and unhooked the metal collar around my neck that held my dress together and let it fall onto the floor, exposing my black lingere set. I wished he would stop looking at me. I'm not beautiful and I'm absolutely not a cover girl. There was, as far as I could see, nothing to stare at...but stare he did. Taking in my breasts, straining beneath the strapless black silk material, then letting his gaze slide down further to my panties and my thighs. I got suddenly uncomfortable when he started to speak and shushed him, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly. "Crawl up on the bed, Zack." I muttered, and he obliged nicely. I could tell he wondered what I wanted, what was going to happen to him, since he'd put himself at my mercy. "Roll over." "What?!" It was as loud as his voice had been in the last twenty minutes and I realized he was having horrible visions in his head. "Just trust me" I said gently, touching his shoulder and urging him to roll. He did so a bit reluctantly and as his arms went up to cradle beneath his head I smiled at him and joined him on the bed, sitting directly on his lower back. My hands went to work naturally, rubbing up and down his back, not hard enough to be really called a massage, but lightly, leaving my fingerprints on his warm skin over and over before reaching down to kiss the base of his neck, letting my chest press against the middle of his back as I did so. I felt a shiver run through him, like he had been shocked, and I kissed again. Again I felt his body shudder slightly and heard him exhale in a long, low groan. My lips traced the base of his neck toward his shoulder and I kissed every inch, back and forth, back and forth in rows. Inch by inch covering the skin of his shoulders in a grid...line after line of tiny little kisses, soft and quiet. Could he feel my warm breath? Could he feel how much this was turning me on? Again I reminded myself...calm down...this is NOT for you...although I'd have been lying to myself if I didn't admit that he tasted so clean and male...that the slightly salty tinge of his skin sent surges through me and made my face flush and my nipples harden. I sat up gently and slipped out of my bra, without him even knowing and gently laid it on the floor in a pretty quick motion before I went back to the grid of his back....back and forth, not pressing my chest to him until I had kissed so low, just below his shoulder blades, that I had to scoot down a little, over his gorgeous ass to sit on his thighs. When I began where I had left off, kissing his back and flicking my tongue over his skin, I pressed my breasts into the small of his back and heard him gasp as warm flesh met warm flesh. I had trouble not gasping myself, and held it to a tiny intake of breath. "Oh my God" escaped from my lips without me even knowing it was rising in my throat. He just groaned again and moved his lower back against me a little, as if to make sure he was right. I continued again, kissing down his back, then felt his legs tense a little bit. I realized that he was getting uncomfortable in that position, and didn't want to say anything to break the moment. I raised my right knee gently and slid it in between his, sitting straddling his left leg without a thought, settling the silk of my panties on the back of his knee. Would he notice that it was growing damp? A split second later I had my answer. "Oh my God. You're wet." The words ground out of his throat but felt like they came from much farther down as he squirmed to adjust himself against the bed. At that point I absolutely couldn't refrain anymore and pressed my body harder against the back of his knee. "You're so sexy, baby. Of course I am..." His voice was muffled against the bed and I heard him ask "But how? I have not done anything." "You don't have to 'do' anything" I whispered. "Just the taste of you...the feel of your skin..." and I let the words trail off into the warmth of his skin as I began to kiss again, just at the top of his boxers, tasting the small of his back. I groaned as I pulled myself from his body, the silk of my panties soaking as I deliberately slid them across his thigh as I stepped off the bed. "What are you doing?" he muttered. "Turn over, Zack...." Cancer Ch. 03 After rolling over, he turned toward me slightly, one elbow crooked to carry his weight as his eyes scanned mine as if he was wondering what might happen next. "Gladly," he said, reaching for me, but I only pulled away, knowing that one single touch from his hands would ignite a fire I couldn't help but drown in. "No, Zackary...no..." pushing his hands away and watching his face as he turned over, a twinge of pain apparent as the angry red scar from his surgery stretched along with the pale skin around it. "I need to touch you...please..." his voice drifting off, his eyes pleading, needing to respond in kind to my ministrations. I simply smiled, wondering if he knew what his complete surrender to me was doing to me. Without a word I moved to the foot of the bed, bending down to kiss the front of his ankles...working my way up the strong bone there slightly before turning my head to kiss each calf, hands moving up to his knees as I went, stretching until I had to climb up and kneel on the bed to reach his knees, kissing each in turn, softly lapping at the inside then returning to the cap to gently nip at the skin stretched over bone. With that finished for now, I pulled myself upright, seeing his eyes watching me as if he were seeing only shadows. I hooked my fingertips in the top of his boxers and started to pull...slowly...sliding backwards on my knees on the bed, watching only his eyes as they slipped down his hips and I pulled them up slightly to free his straining cock from its prison. I felt my flesh start to burn, wanting him so badly...needing to taste him. His flesh had tasted to warm and soft beneath my mouth and I wondered desperately how his cock would feel in my mouth... I finally let my gaze fall to his cock after I was standing at the foot of the bed, his boxers discarded in the pile of clothes on the floor. A small gasp escaped my lips. It was absolutely beautiful and the thought of pressing my lips to it was almost more than I could bear. My desire did not escape his gaze as my tongue ran languidly across my bottom lip and I heard him groan. "You are the personification of lust" he whispered and I could only answer with the truth. "I know." "Are you still wet for me?" He asked, as if it were terribly important to him. "God, Yes" I whimpered, eyes moving back to his cock. "Just looking at you makes me wet, Zackary... and now to see you completely...I need to taste you so much. Tell me you want me to...." My voice drifted off, my own desire starting to take the edge off my calm persona. "God, Yes." He echoed my own words, his voice husky "But first, I need to touch you...I need to feel your desire for me...come here." "No, this is all for you." I said, matter of factly, returning to reason as my gaze broke from his body. "This is for me. Come here. Just for a moment..." I walked to the edge of the bed where he was laying and stood there, in only my panties, trying to breathe, but unable to draw a decent breath. I closed my eyes, fingertips, mouth, tongue itching to make contact with him again. As soon as the room went dark I could feel his fingertips, those of an artist, gently tracing, like a whisper up my knee, up farther to my thigh, tracing the outside, near my hip, running over my panties, then tracing the lower line of them to brush, very gently, against my mound, then down until it reached where my clit lie hard and begging beneath the satin. "Take them off." It wasn't a query, it was a command and I heeded it without even a second's hesitation, pushing them down to fall at my feet, eyes still closed. I could feel the cool of the air rush between my legs as I stood, feet slightly apart, breathless. "yes..." was all he said as his fingertips returned to my body. "You want me to touch you, don't you?" His voice calm now that he was in his own place of comfort, in control. I decided to count to thirty in my head before pushing him away and returning toward my goal. 30....29...his hand was just above the inside of my knee, fingertips leaving little circles of fire on my skin as his fingertips moved up slightly...20...19...fingertips on my inner thigh now, me breathing so deeply to stay calm that I could hear myself exhale loudly with a quiver....15...14...13...I knew he could feel the heat from my pussy on his sensitive fingertips and I flushed, unsure if it was from passion or from slight embarrassment that he made me this way without any effort...9...8... his fingertips grazing the inner part of my thigh, then sliding up and softly slipping into my slit, his palm up, middle finger sliding over my hot, wet clit and slipping silently inside of me in a swift motion that felt more like slow motion. I could feel every single ridge of his fingerprints and handprint sliding over my ultra-sensitive clit before his finger found a home deep inside me, palm cupping my sex. I gasped and pulled away, looking at him with amazement at what one simple series of touches had done to me....3.2.1 I counted, really fast and backed away, eyes flying open and looking at him, watching as he moved his eyes to his fingertip and then his fingertip slowly moved toward him, ending up playing across his tongue, eyes fluttering closed as he softly lapped it clean. I couldn't breathe. I stared in astonishment at his mouth, watching his amazingly agile tongue lick my honey from his fingertip wanting so much to feel that tongue and those fingers working the heat between my legs into a full-fledged fire. And then his eyes met mine and it shook me to the very core. The pure desire buried behind grass-green eyes made me want him more than I had before... more than I realized I could. I looked down toward his cock once more and found it surging, twitching silently begging for my attention, and I rushed to the bed, climbing over his knee to situate myself between them hurriedly... not as I had planned... I had wanted to slowly lap his toy and slide it down my throat with finesse and grace... but it didn't happen that way. I seemingly could not help myself as I hurriedly lapped the head of his cock, drilling my tongue into the hole there, desiring nothing but to taste him as he had tasted me before. I slid him quickly into my mouth, over my hot, wet tongue and so hard toward the back of my throat that I would have gagged if I had even noticed. The power of him inside my mouth was like a hot-button and I continued to slam my mouth down on him to hard that my teeth were pressed into my inner lip as it rocketed against the side of my finger where I was holding him steady. I don't have any idea how long I took out my sexual frustration and need on his cock before I was finally able to slow down slightly and turn my head, letting his cock slip down the slick inside of my cheek a little slower before taking him down my throat, but it seemed like an eternity. An eternity of that steel rod cloaked in velvet sliding down my throat before I remembered to graze my fingernails lightly across his balls, causing them to contract and Zackary to let out a deep, soft moan. Working them gently I set the pace at a manageable rhythm and sucked him inside my willing mouth over and over, alternately rubbing and teasing his balls with my touch, the muscles in my jaw starting to strain but not caring. All that mattered to me was tasting him... feeling him surge in my mouth and spill his seed down my throat, making him part of me forever... I so needed that connection sliding down my mouth, throat and ending up in the pit of my belly, where my desire lay alive and straining. I was rewarded bountifully a short time later, my jaw burning from the ache of sucking so long, as Zackary grabbed my head and shoved my cock so deeply down my throat that I could barely breathe, let alone swallow. But swallow I did. Copious amounts of his seed pumped inside of me, and when I pulled back slightly I felt it spurt on my tongue, the salty taste of him turning me on even more than before. I swallowed every drop like a woman dying of thirst as his hands continued to encourage me, stroking my hair and the sides of my face. When finally he ran dry I collapsed between his legs, tongue lazily licking his balls from top to bottom, paying special attention to the little area of sensitive skin between them as I lifted them gently and cradled them in the palm of my trembling hand. I could breathe again, but only in long, low bursts and sighs. The heat between my legs was almost unbearable but as continued licking I bounced back to reality, remembering my promise to myself. "This isn't for me..." and I rolled off of the bed in one fluid motion, watching Zackary lay there in a half-sleep, mumbling "thank you" over and over, looking as tired as a newborn kitten. I simply smiled and picked up my robe from my suitcase on the way to the shower. "Mission accomplished" I thought, and slipped into the bathroom to finish what, with one single touch, Zackary had started. Cancer Ch. 04 Stepping into the shower I could feel my clit graze against the inside of my pussy lip and I surged with every movement. Just the short walk from the bedroom to the bathroom had my knees buckling and I grabbed the bar in the hotel shower to steady myself as I turned on the mist and made sure it was steamy and hot. I leaned hard against the shower wall and just took a few long, slow breaths, wanting to make this last... wanting to be able to re-live every moment I had spent worshipping at the altar of Zackary's body. "Zackary" I moaned softly as my hands unwrapped the soap and threw the paper onto the floor of the shower. I lathered my hands achingly slowly, trying to prolong the sweet pain in the pit of my stomach that reached clear to my straining clit. "Yes?" I leapt a little at the sound, having thought that his recovering body would betray him and sleep quickly, letting me finish myself off quietly under the running water. "OH! I... uh... nothing. What are you DOING in here? Shouldn't you be resting?" I uttered quickly, hiding behind the shower curtain. "You don't seriously think I'm finished... do you? Have they all treated you this way?" "What way? All of who?" My mind was racing. What on Earth was he doing? He'd gotten what he wanted, what every man wants, what was left? "Them" he said in a forceful, angry voice before tearing back the shower curtain and regarding me with a look I couldn't quite place. "I'm not one of them. I'll be damned if you'll crawl away from me to take care of yourself." I simply stood there, hands still soapy, room starting to fill with warm steam as he simply stood there. What did he want me to do? I just laughed a little bit, hoping that it was fooling him. I was so confused, and there he stood, naked in front of me, asking me questions about what I was doing! "Oh, I know you're not. Now go away so I can get this over with" I said, blushing so hard I thought all the blood from my entire body was in my cheeks. "No. Show me." His words all at once frightened me and excited me. "Show you? Show you what?" "How you were planning on touching yourself. I want to watch..." Slowly, as if I had no power to stop them, my fingertips slid down my body as I placed one foot up on the side of the bathtub. When they reached my pussy I felt a surge before I ever even touched myself. It was decision time. How badly do I need to come? Badly enough to let someone else watch me? I had never done that... "It's okay, baby. Just show me." I groaned and my head fell back, eyes closed as I slid two fingers into my slit. Back and forth, back and forth against my hard clit, letting it slide between first finger and middle finger, letting the soap mix with my honey to make my fingers slick and soft. I sighed deeply and leaned against the wall, my other hand touching my nipple, using my palm to slip over and over it as my other hand continued to push toward the orgasm I craved so much. Suddenly I heard a murmured "no" come from only a foot or so away and my head snapped upright again, fingers stopping what they were doing and freezing in place. When my eyes opened I saw Zackary, standing not 6 inches from me, body flush, eyes incredibly serious and stormy with anger. "No" is all he said, but as he pinned me against the shower wall, forcing my hand away from my pussy in the process, I understood. His eyes never left mine for an instant as two fingers traveled to his mouth to wet them before his hand dropped between us and slid softly into my slit. I groaned at the heat surging between my legs and pressed my pelvis toward his hand, allowing him to slide his fingers back and forth over my swollen clit as my head fell back once again, eyes closing, focusing on the pleasure of his hand touching me. His mouth found my neck as he moved closer, most of his body touching mine, but leaving lots of leverage room for his hand. I felt my pulse jump against his mouth as he kissed softly, then a bit harder, running his tongue up and down my neck and nipping gently. "This cum is mine" he growled in my ear before flicking his tongue inside the hoop earring and over my lobe. I whimpered, feeling overwhelmed and weak. God, I wanted it to be his so badly. I wanted him to touch me until I was incinerated by my own heat. I simply nodded my head, unable to speak. When his fingers left my clit briefly I whimpered, wanting them back immediately. I was so close! But when I looked up, Zackary was soaping his hands, almost innocently and staring at me. "I... uh... I didn't..." "I know. It's time for you to be patient now. Do you know how crazy I was for you? Paybacks, my dear, are pure, unadulterated hell." And with that he leaned forward and began to wash my body gently, soaping my breasts in circular motions over my nipples until I almost screamed with pain as my nipples hardened and distended to amazing lengths. Zackary simply regarded me seriously, eyes never leaving his hands. After rinsing my breasts for a full thirty seconds he re-soaped his hands and let his right one fall toward my slit again. Eyes never leaving mine he started all over, washing me clean, washing away all thoughts of victory and supplanting those notions with pure lust and heat. I had not moved my foot from the side of the tub so the access was easy. I was scrubbed front to back, paying special attention to the hard little nub that hung there, silently begging for his touch. I was nearly there again and began to whimper as he rinsed me. "No." Once again the word startled me and I was instantaneously angry. What the hell was he doing? Who did he think he was, taking me right to the brink of a monster orgasm and then dropping me off the edge of a cliff like that? My brain raged and my mouth was ready to follow suit when he reached over and kissed me extremely hard, his passion flowing into my mouth like a raging river as he pulled me, mouths still connected, out of the shower, dripping all over the tile floor. As I reached for the towel behind me and broke our kiss a little, he took it from me and threw it to the floor, pulling me harder toward the bed, streams of water cascading to the floor and trailing onto the bed as he pushed me gently down into the spot where he had lain so patiently. "Mine" he said, and I knew what he meant. It was time for his ownership of me, of the lightning that would stealthily slip through my body and make me shiver. He laid down beside me on the bed, propped up on one elbow and lazily drew circles on my damp skin, concentrating on my right nipple before paying just as much attention to the left. My body was straining toward him, begging him to finish me off before I screamed. "Please..." my voice trailed off into the distance, begging, pitiful, needy. "Yes, my love. Oh.. yes..." and with that his mouth slid down onto mine, kissing me passionately, tongue sliding into my hot, needy mouth. As his mouth made my brain dizzy his hand moved down my breasts and came to rest just above my mound, toying gently with the soft hair that covered it. I whimpered at the proximity of his hand to what I needed stroked and he simply said "Ask me." "Please...p...please touch me, Zackary. I want to cum for you..." And with my admission his hand moved lower as my legs parted, immediately finding my hot, wet clit and playing with it, sliding his flat fingers over and over it, dipping slightly into me to wet them with my slick honey before again running his slick digits over my clit again and again. Heat started to circle in my stomach and I began to whimper and moan louder, uttering an occasional "Yes" or "please" without even knowing what I was saying. I was so lost in the feeling that I did not feel him move away from me slightly, and sit up on the bed, still fingering my slit. When he hand left me, my eyes again flew open, but it was only to see him move quickly down between my legs. I couldn't move, I couldn't say a word... I could only stare deeply into his eyes as his hands gripped my calves and put them over his shoulders, feet resting on his shoulder blades. I held my breath as his eyes held mine and he slowly descended toward my straining pussy. With one long, slow lick he tasted me stem to stern, tongue flat and soft against my straining clit. I felt dizzy and had the sensation of floating as my hands moved to the top of his head, gently encouraging him to continue. His movements were incredibly slow, his tongue impossibly soft as he licked and lapped at my pussy, the heat once again building to unbearable levels in my blood. I whimpered and moaned and talked about how good it felt over and over...loving the feel of his soft tongue against my wet, hard clit. I felt the tip of his finger edge toward me and pushed down toward it, needing it inside me as his tongue continued to pleasure me. When it entered me to the hilt, so slowly, so deliberately, I felt the ripples of my impending explosion start to spread throughout my entire body, and on the second soft thrust, as his tongue also slid against my clit, I started to moan and whimper, hips bucking, trying to force him harder inside me. But he held back. I pushed harder down onto his finger, rubbing my entire pussy across his lips and face as I began to ride the start of my orgasm, trying to control the pace without much success. Zackary was in control of the entire Universe at that point, and there was nothing I could do but surrender to his power. When he felt my pussy start to get wetter his finger got stronger and was joined by another, easily slipping into my tight, wet pussy. In and out, in and out, his lapping tongue driving me toward the edge... closer and closer... With one final thrust I was his. I came so hard my entire body shook and I started to whimper louder, pressing my pussy to his face and his fingers farther inside of me. He lapped at me mercilessly and I thrashed and pressed down onto him over and over until the sudden rush of explosion began to quell. His fingers slowed to a gentle rhythm and his tongue softened even more as I shivered and my head collapsed onto the bed, the pillow long ago flung to the floor. "Stop stop stop!" I whispered frantically as I pushed him away suddenly, the force of the orgasm making my entire body so sensitive it was like electric eels winding their way around whatever part was being touched at the moment. I curled into a fetal position on the bed and tried to catch my breath, tears streaming down my face at the amazement that I felt. When Zackary climbed the bed and curled himself to my back it was like a blessing. His arms felt so strong around me as he held me and helped me recover from the amazing physical release I had just received. "Oh God" was all I could utter as I finally wound down, feeling like warm jell-o, body still trembling. "Sweetheart?" "Y...yes Zackary?" "You need to tell me something, baby..." "What?" I asked, willing at the point to tell him all the national secrets, if I had any. "Sweetheart...what's your name?" And with that...I smiled. It would take a lot more convincing to get me to tell... and I was sure to enjoy every moment of it.