0 comments/ 20044 views/ 0 favorites Carousel By: gmwnkcmo It was a warm Thursday night I saw her first. She was sitting on the bench that faces the merry-go-round I run at the local fairground. She wore a skirt and blouse. Unusual, I thought, since this time of year most everyone was wearing summer gear - shorts, halter tops, minis. At least her outfit was blazing white, and she wore sandals. Some deference to the heat, anyway. I had not seen her put anyone on the ride, but there were a couple of teens who coulda belonged to her. She looked to be on the good side of 40 from this distance, but I had the feeling that if I got closer, she might look even better. Fat chance. I was tied to this whirly thing. Even sitting, I could tell she was tall, cause she had those long good legs that just don’t stop. I did my best to remember what she looked like, catching glimpses of her as the horses and chariots went by. And she was my weakness - a red-head. When I got around to noticing again, she was gone - just like that. It happens a million times a year doing this job. Someone shows up, you want to connect, but a minute later, she's gone. Sometimes they come back, but mostly not. Her I didn’t see leave with anyone. Like a dog going back to the spot where you dropped a fleck of meat one time, I found myself checking that bench every chance I had that weekend. Stupid, I thought. So you can imagine what a shock it was on Sunday night when I saw her there. I was riding the deck, keeping order in the thin crowd of loud-mouthed teen-agers, when I glanced over, and there she was. I know I did one of those comic things, a double-take, but by the time I looked back, she was around the corner. I ran ahead to get around the corner again to see if I had been imagining it, but no, there she was. This time she was wearing a red checked dress, short, showing off those great legs. I stepped off the inside of the ride, keeping her in sight, and checked the timer. Thirty more seconds until it wound down. I stepped back up on the deck, and walked back toward her. I stepped off the ground side, and waited for the timer to kick in and stop the ride. There are always a few riders who need help getting off, but I wanted to see if this lady was connected to anyone. The ride stopped, the crowd left, half of them running back to the entrance again. This lady did not seem to belong to any of them. No one acknowledged her. I did get close enough to see wedding rings, though. Big ones. I helped the two youngest riders off, and they ran to join mom and dad, and I stepped back the entrance, to start all over again. Great, I thought. Here she is, and you can't even say anything. She's married, you putz. Yeah, but she is here alone. She looks sad, I said, and I don’t want to intrude. That is no way to get close to her anyway, saying something when she wants to be alone. You don’t wanna get close to her. You just want to BE with her, you putz. Yeah... a guy can dream, cant he? I mean, after all, what's a carousel for, if not for make-believe? She disappeared sometime during the next go-round. And I KNEW this time I'd never see her again. ----------- My dreams that night were full of meet-cute schemes. A sudden downpour that left her gasping for breath and dry clothes, which I happened to have. Meeting in the parking lot, where she was stumped by a flat tire on her family wagon. ( o yeah? where's the FAMILY, you putz?) Noticing her purse left behind after she had gone, and locating her and giving it back to her. Yeah, I see that in all these stories, I'm the hero. Nothing-jobs like this one will do that for you. When you are a sometime writer, a not-very-successful-sometime-writer at that, you take what you can, so you as much time free to write as you can manage. That is where I found myself. Spinning yarns all day in a two room apartment, selling a story now and then to the tabloids and pulp magazines. Just enough encouragement from my editor to keep me going, like the English class from hell. Spinning kids and lovers by night. The job was not bad for people-watching, if you liked to do that kind of thing. Thing about this lady was that I was drawn to her, not to her story so much. I didn’t care if she was dull as dishwater, with no story at all. I wanted to get to know her. Too late, I figured. -------------- Until three nights later. Same bench. Just appeared. I didn’t see her coming. Hmmph. Shows what YOU know, putz. Stop calling me that! There she was, this time in a yellow short set, so far her only concession to the heat. She looked like a million bucks. Okay, putz, either YOU talk to her this time, or I will! Yeah? You go ahead. I will! I stepped off the outside of the ride, a little run-step to keep from falling, and walked over the other side where she sat. I looked off where she was looking, and saw she was just watching the ride go round. Not quite a 1000-yard stare on her face, just thoughtful. What was it in Macbeth? Screw your courage to the sticking post? I walked to a spot near the bench, and said, “Hi, again.” Too late, I saw that she had kicked off her sandals. Bare feet. O geez. She looked my way, and smiled. Well I have to tell you, if I had not been smitten before, I was now. This was a 1000-watt smile, and she did not look at all sad. “Hi.” Her teeth were white, her smile was to die for, and her blouse was cut low enough I could see the beginnings of the tops of her breasts. “I…er…” PUTZ!! “I noticed you have been here a lot.” No answer, but she had not turned me off yet. “Would you like to ride? Uh, free rides to repeat customers.” GEEZUS!!! Did that sound as stupid as I felt? She smiled, though, and slipped her feet back into her sandals, and reached up her hand. Now THIS was a lady. She expected me to help her up, and of course I did. I might not be the classiest guy around, but I knew when to help a lady up. She rose, and I had been right – she was tall, nearly 6 feet, even in low sandals. Put her in high heels, I thought, and – whoa.. enough of thinking about that! She did not let go my hand as we approached the deck of the ride. She stepped on easily, with all the grace those legs promised, and moved effortlessly to a bench seat behind a white horse, with green accoutrements. She looked up at me, and I realized I had to say something. “You make the ride look better already,” was all I could come up with. Nonetheless, I was rewarded by another of those megawatt smiles, and moved off to tend the timer and make sure no one was walking around, other than me. In a few minutes, the ride wound down, and everyone moved off, everyone but her. I got the ride started again with a new bunch, and moved to where she sat looking out now, at the crowd. “Thanks for staying.” She smiled back again. “It’s nice up here. Thanks for asking.” Her voice was low, well-modulated, the timbre of a rich string instrument. “So,” I said, with courage I did not feel, “what’s a nice lady like you doing hanging out around a place like this?” She smiled, and patted the seat next to her. I made a gesture she understood, that I had to keep an eye on the rest of the ride, and I remained standing. “My kids are both away for the summer, and my husband works 24 hr shifts, every third day. So, I’m alone.” There was no import in the way she said it, no invitation. I nodded. That would explain why she was here one night, and skipped two. “You’re alone, and you like merry-go-rounds?” For the first time, a hint of sadness crept into those eyes. They were… hell… they were both brown and green, and about the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. “I like carousels, yes.” She pulled the necklace away from her chest – a carousel horse. “I see,” I said, not sure I did. “Gift from your husband?” She nodded. “Well,” I said, “I just didn’t want you sitting out there if you wanted to ride.” I smiled at her, and left to do my walk-around. When I came back, she was gone. I can’t say I was completely surprised. ----------- Nor can I say I was surprised at myself, three nights later, when I looked at that bench so often I nearly wore the paint off. Nor can I say I was surprised that she didn’t show up. I mean, after all, how much carousel watching can one person do? Nor did she show up three nights after that. I lost track of the three-day intervals, and stopped looking. It hurt less that way. When I looked out a week or so later, and saw her sitting at ‘her’ bench again, the sudden idiotic smile on my face told me how much I had wanted to see her again. It was all I could do to keep from waving at here like a silly chimp or something. I managed to get to the end of the ride, before I went that way, and said hello to her again. She nodded, and again put her hand out, to be helped up. I obliged, and led her to the deck of the ride. This time she was wearing a set of short pink overalls, and a white top. It was not cut low, but the thrust of her breasts made it clear that she was a fully grown woman. She still had sandals on. For the first time, I noted her toe rings, two of them, and her toe-nails painted in multi-colored designs. Instead of the demure seat, she stepped onto the stirrup of the biggest horse on the deck, and swung into the saddle. She smiled down at me, and I moved off to let the rest of the customers back onto the ride, round and round again. I stood near her, watching her for the sheer joy of it. This was a woman happy in her skin. The ups and downs of the big fella she was on seemed to be driven from inside her, instead of the mechanism we had so lovingly restored. It seemed she was the one powering the ride, instead of being dragged along. She surprised me by saying, “What are you thinking?” I surprised myself by telling the truth. “I was thinking how much I’d like to see you away from here. Even if it’s only for a cup of coffee.” There was no change in her face. But no acceptance, either. No reward for being honest about how I felt. Finally, she said, “You no doubt have lots of girlfriends.” I said, “Ma’am, I’m 50, and I work in a carnival. I’m not exactly what you would call a winner.” I smiled, trying to show I was not unhappy with my lot in life. “But, I can be interesting for short periods of time.” I was rewarded with an out-and-out laugh, a big hearty head-turning laugh that made me smile. “I bet you can,” she said. Once again, she did a Zorro on me, and disappeared. At least this time I thought I might see her again. As I closed up the ride that night, and did the bookwork that goes with the receipts, I thought about her, and what the skin on that back might feel like under my hands, what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her hot breath on my shoulder. “Stop it!” I chastised myself. “She gave you NO encouragement whatsoever, so stop it!” The carnies parked out in a grass lot that turned to mud when it rained. I pulled to the edge of the lot toward the street and looked left and right. A small red sportster sat on the wrong side of the road, parking lights on. I glanced at the driver. It was her. She stared at me. I turned off my lights. There would be someone else behind me in a second or two wanting to get out of the lot and head home. Suddenly her lights came on, and she roared by me, handling the little car like a pro. I didn’t hesitate. I followed, as quickly as my one-lung machine could, but I was not about to let her out of sight if I could help it. She wasn’t trying to lose me. Once she turned left, and traffic cut me off. She waited. As soon as I made the turn she jetted off, expecting me to keep up. We wound up out by the interstate, in an all-night coffee house, bustling even at 1am with truckers ad tourists. She parked out away from the buildings I pulled up beside her, and waited. She opened her door. And stepped to my truck, pulling open the door. “We can leave my car here,” she said as she sat down, reaching for the seat belt. “Oo---kay…” I said. “Where would you like to go?” She looked at me, without accusation or expectation in her eyes. I failed to take the hint. “You do live alone, don’t you?” she asked. I drove. It was 15 minutes to my place. I made it in 9.5. We walked up the one flight of stairs to my apartment. While I am not a neat-nut, I knew I would not have anything to apologize about as far as my place was concerned. I kept it looking pretty spiff. It was what I did instead of writing, when writing wasn’t happening. So far, neither of us had said a word since leaving the truck stop. I reached around her to unlock the door. She turned into my arms. Her kiss was insistent, urgent, needy, and wet. And she felt just as good in my arms as I knew she would. I managed to break for air, and said, before opening the door, “Wait!” She backed off for a second, obviously puzzled, and reluctant. “What?” “Your name,” I said, “I want your name.” She smiled and whispered close in my ear – “Debbi.” I noted she didn’t ask mine. I pushed open the door, and we moved inside. Before I could turn on a light, she had my arms around her neck, my body against hers, leaning back against the door. I fumbled to get the security chain on. Later I realized I had been lucky to be able to think even that well. This lady was a serious lover, and demanded anyone’s full attention. Now, kissing has always been just something a guy did to get to the good stuff. That all changed in about 10 milliseconds. I realized I was in the middle of a world class kiss, and did my best to keep up. This lady was a serious kisser. Her lips pressed against mine, moving, feeling, hungry all over. Her tongue grazed my lips and teeth, and just as quickly darted away. I gave chase, and got trapped between those whiter-than-white teeth. Now, somewhere in here I noticed I had a raging hard-on, but that seemed back-burner stuff, while on the front burner was this barn-burning kiss. I stopped thinking about how her belly felt against my dick, or how her tits felt against my chest, and just .. felt. I gave it all up to the moments we spent kissing. Our heads revolved around each other, my head tilted so my forehead was nearly on her shoulder, my hands roamed her back, catching on the brass fittings for these overalls. I gave up and just held her, tightly, squeezing her to me. I know I could have hurt her, being so insensible. But she not only didn’t mind being held so tightly, she returned it, in spades. She held me closely, her head upturned. It never even occurred to me to break this kiss. I didn’t want to for one thing. And if I had been able to think about it, I would have thought that stopping this kiss now would be dangerous: she might kill me. So we continued. The apartment was black. The only light came in thru the open window over the dining table. My computer setup was all there. Somewhere in my mind I had thought if I ever got her in this situation, I would try to keep her interested by talking about writing. She was not interested in that, at the moment. Neither was I. Her breath hissed in and out of her nose. Her lips worked at mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I again noticed she had breasts, magnificent breasts. I tore one hand away from rubbing her back, and moved it up to her chest, toying with the flesh between us. Her nipple was already taut, hard as a pencil eraser, and twice as large. I tweaked it, gently, and was rewarded by being bit on the lip. A sharp intake of breath, but she would not let me go. I thumbed her nipple again, harder, and got bit again, only not as hard this time. I must be going in the right direction. From somewhere, I got the strength to pick up this handful of woman. She held on tightly, and lifted those magnificent legs to strap herself onto me, squeezing me at the waist, breathing hard. I walked to my bedroom, in the dark, a thought running by that I was glad I had the place picked up again, now for an entirely DIFFERENT reason. We reached the bedroom. I walked us to the bed. I put a knee on the bed, and eased her onto the cover, not daring to let go, or break this kiss. As far as she could tell, we were in Egypt or on the moon. She had not opened her eyes since we had entered the apartment. Her legs were already around me. I ground into her, wanting to transfer some of these great feelings from my dick to her pussy, even through 4 or 5 layers of clothes. I eased up kissing her, pulling away only far enough to be able to see her eyes. I was long past the ‘Why me?’ thoughts. I was just going to take what came, and hope for more. Our lips barely touched as I moved my hand to her tits again, this time moving between them, feeling one nipple, then the other. I leaned down to her again, but before we could start another marathon kiss, I whispered directly into her ear, “I’m going to undress you, slowly.” This earned me a moan, and another clasp to keep me close. I forced my way away from her for a moment, and realized I was going to struggle with unfamiliar clothes in the dark. Not wanting to take a chance on her having second thoughts, I decided to err on the side of darkness, and feel my way around her clothes. I found the clasps at the top of the front of the overalls. I managed to caress her tits quite thoroughly as I unclasped the metal stays. I smiled down at her. Our eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and I could see her face clearly now. She was not smiling, but wanting. I flipped up the shoulder straps to lay on the bed, and pulled down the top, again taking advantage of the closeness to rub against her tits. Her shirt was ribbed. Somewhere between the door and here, she had shed her sandals. Much as I hated to be even that far away from this wondrous person, I held her overalls and moved away, hoping she would take the hint. Something about the way we already were together let her understand. She lifted her hips and I slid the shortie overall over her knees, and onto the floor. Enough time had passed since we had had to stop kissing. I bent to her. I could have waited until she was nude, but that was too long to wait. I wanted more of those kisses. Now. She pulled me to her, wrapping her strong arms around my neck. Our lips met. Which is as much of an understatement as, say, ‘Rockets are loud,’ or ‘Black is dark.’ We didn’t meet so much as flow together. I had the fleeting impression that we had incandesced into fiery pillar, swept up into the heavens on the wings of magic chariot. Some part of my mind kept wanting me to say ‘WAIT!’ and slow down and take this in slower, appreciate it more. But I knew that to stop would be madness. Her mouth welcomed me. I had to learn how to kiss, all over again. This was new. Her legs wrapped around me, now only one layer of clothes on her, all of mine still in place. ‘Hell with THAT,’ I thought. I did every contortion known to heated-up-man to get my clothes tugged off to a point I could break this kiss for the least possible time and still get these clothes away from me. They now weighed 14 tons, and I wanted them GONE. As quickly as possible, I was on her again, now only in a t-shirt and shorts, my arms around her, pulling her to me. Her legs went back around me again, pulling me into her. She could not help but notice I had a half ton of steel between her legs. I tried to be less insistent, less eager, trying to show I was appreciating this new found art of the kiss. I would have been content to be there still, kissing her, rubbing her back, legs, breasts, looking into her eyes. She pushed me away. I stood on my knees, already missing the pressure of her legs against my waist, and her tits against my chest, and her lips on mine. I tried not to pout like a child who had just lost a sucker. Carousel The day dawned soft and warm, a sweet summer breeze kissed the trees. The carnival was in town and you could smell the burgers and French fries miles away. The happy sound of the carousel drew her to the crowded fairground. Her straw colored hair flipped playfully in the breeze and she hummed as she made her way through the people. The yellow dress slid seductively back and forth over her long legs. Men eyed her as she stood in line at the ticket booth, wishing for a glimpse of those soft, full breasts. She ignored them and made her way to the carousel, a handful of tickets clutched tightly. She waited patiently in the line, children and parents laughing and smiling as they waited their turn. Her eyes held a long off dreamy look as she stood in the queue. Sunlight danced across her hair as she wiped it out of her eyes, inching forward slowly . "Three tickets please." The weathered carnie held out his hand for her tickets. She smiled at him and the questioning look on his face. She walked around the carousel and saw him. The large colorful zebra with the gold saddle called to her. She lifted a well shaped leg and slid onto his back. She leaned into the pole, her face shining with anticipation. The merry music began to play as the zebra began his gallop. Her eyes glistened with joy as she rode the mighty zebra, up and down, round and round. She daydreamed of him as she rode, hugging the pole , her nipples brushing against it, igniting the embers into a full fledged fire. She rode off and on during the day, using up her handful of tickets. Soon all the happy people at the fairgrounds began to tire, dragging their dirty faced little children back to their homes. Night fell and a cool breeze replaced the sweltering summer heat. She made her way once more to the carousel. "The carnival is closed ma'am." The carnie's voice was gruff and tired. "Just once more, please." She smiled her sweetest smile at him, flashing her emerald green eyes at him. "We are closed!" The angry man barked at her and started to push her from the gate. "I'll take care of this young lady." A soft masculine voice drifted from the darkness. She turned to search the shadows for the kind stranger. "Yes Sir." The cranky carnie disappeared into the night. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the stranger in the shadows walk into the light of the carousel. His eyes shone with knowing, his hand stretched out to her. "Three tickets please." His smile warmed her body and soul. She handed him her last 3 tickets, the electricity intense as her fingertips brushed his palm. He took the tickets then her hand. He lead her to the colorful zebra and helped her slide into the gold saddle. His hands lingered on her waist, then grazed her exposed thigh. Quickly he walked to the controls and started the carousel. She giggled with desire and anticipation as the zebra began his trot. She leaned into the pole, brushing one then the other breast against the steel. She closed her eyes and breathed in the night air. She gasped as she felt his hands on her calf, soft and warm. The strong hands made their way to her thigh, pushing the pretty yellow dress up farther. On and on the zebra galloped on his path, up and down, round and round. The music drowned out her sighs as he teased her with his hands, fingertips and tongue, igniting the naked flesh of her legs. Soon she felt him slide onto the back of the zebra, his strong arms circled her waist as they rode. She leaned back into his chest, thrusting her aching breasts forward in the night air. Her hair tickled his face as it whipped in the wind, he breathed in deeply, her scent intoxicating him. His hungry hands found the buttons of the yellow dress and unfastened them quickly. She moaned as she felt the night air kiss her exposed skin. The dress melted away in the magic of the carousel. He kissed her lovely neck, licked and nibbled her milky white back. His hands were filled to overflowing with her naked tit flesh, his fingertips pinching and rolling her aching nipples into hardness. On and on the zebra continued his trek, up and down, round and round. She gasped as she felt his throbbing cock press into the small of her back. The hunger spread thru her, igniting her already moist pussy into a melting pot of desire. She pressed back into him, lifting her hips and groaning her want into the night. Soon her slit was being teased by the pole of the carousel zebra as he pushed her forward. He continued to bite and lick her neck and back as he worked her onto his growing cock. Soon she was firmly impaled on his hardened member, riding him up and down, and round and round. Her hungry laugh was guttural and passionate as she arched her hips, banging her swollen clit into the pole of the carousel zebra as she slide up and down the iron cock of her passenger. Her pretty face shone in the light of the merry go round as they continued on their ride. He held tightly to her hardened nipples, squeezing and tormenting them as he continued to assault her weeping slit with his throbbing prick. She tightened her pulsating pussy around his invading cock and cried out into the darkness as they rode, up and down , and round and round. He bit her neck hard as he started to cum with her. His moans joined her cries, mixing with the happy music of the carousel and then fading away as the merry go round began to slow down. She ground her pelvis into the pole, trying to prolong the convulsions. Slower and slower the zebra made his journey, up and down, round and round. The lights of the carousel flickered and dimmed. Exhausted she slipped from the back of the zebra. The last tendrils of the cheerful music drifted away on the night breeze. The wind licked the sweat from her trembling flesh as she bent to retrieve the yellow dress in the dust. Tears welled in her emerald green eyes as she thought of him, gone from her these 5 years. Turning once more toward the carousel, she cried as she saw him there, waving to her from the colorful zebra, his face frozen in time, a prisoner of the carousel , forever making his way up and down, and round and round. Carousel Ch. 2 I woke with her against me. It was only the third time we had managed to stay all night together. I was actually worried this woman was getting too close. The heat from her body was like a velvet blanket, covering us both. I listened to the sweet music of her breath, in and out, and smiled at my fortune, again. She had been a mysterious regular at the amusement park where I work to pay the rent, while I learn to write well enough for something to sell. Then, one night she had appeared at the exit to the parking lot, made me follow her to a place to leave her car, and came home with me. Since then, nothing had been the same for me. Her name, she said, was Debbi. She had long legs, dark red hair, freckles I had come to love, and an attitude that said, 'Screw it, I want you.' I knew she was married, but I had not inquired into her arrangements. She had hinted that he had been out of town when she had spent the night the first two times. I assumed this was the same. Truth is, at the moment, I didn't care what arrangements she had at home. I was only glad her body was arranged on my bed, flanks resting comfortably against my front, arms stretched in front of her, eyes closed, the barest hint of a smile on those perfect lips. I thought back a few hours to our last love-making session together. I am years older than this lady, but her intensity and focus was intimidating. She had in mind things she wanted, managed to communicate those needs, and made sure they were fulfilled. So far, that had been more than okay with me. Her needs fit well with what I had to offer. I leaned up on one elbow, looking down at her face. All my weaknesses were manifest in red heads, but this lady was exceptional even for exceptions. Her body bore the marks of recent weight loss, prominent hip-bones, ribs visible when she stretched her arms over her head. … over her head… the thought engendered the vision of her hurried impatience last night. I had not known she was coming. I didn’t even have time to kid her about calling first in case one of my other girls was here. She knew better by this time. She had me. Somehow she had managed to get from the front door to the bedroom, tugging me while discarding her clothes, all the while engaging us in one of those world class kisses that had changed a great many things I thought I knew about the world. Kissing this lady was more profound than being married to any other woman. It was the Olympics, the 500, the World Series. I had thought about it a long while in one of my forced writing sessions and come to the conclusion that when you were kissing this lady, you had to concentrate, because she was concentrating. She was concentrating on the kiss. Not on the trash, the kids, the mortgage, just kissing you. And she was demanding the same thing back. It was worth it. I know that usually a guy is thinking about many things while he kisses a woman: the chances of getting her into bed, is she going to want to stay all night, who was coming by tonight, all sorts of things. But with this lady, you had to stop all that, and think only of one thing - how her lips/teeth/tongue/mouth felt, and what it was saying to you on a much deeper level. She assured me this was new to her, too, but I had to think that somewhere, sometime, someone had known this level of kissing. It was the stuff of legend, poetry, inspiration to war, or peace. Her arms had been over her head when she landed on the bed, reaching for the headboard, eyes seeking mine, telling me what she wanted, without a word. Only the little sounds of her overarching need filled the small room. I had knelt by the bed, caressing her legs, pushing them finally up off the bed, so her thighs were to me, my hands on the backs of them, her hands on mine. I remembered the fleeting look I got of her small hands atop mine, as I bent to the joyous task of sucking her lips and clit into my mouth. Her hands had tightened on mine as I grabbed her clit with my teeth. Tell the truth, I could not remember if she was built like anyone else I had ever known. I'm past 50, and have been no stranger to the happy pastimes of erotic arts. But when this lady came along, everything else went out the window. I did not know anyone else, had trouble remembering anyone else, and could not put faces to the vague memories of partial names in my past. And that was okay, too. If I thought at all about the others, it was with a fond wish for their happiness, too. This lady like biting. She liked to bite me, and she liked to be bitten. In one of the more coherent conversations we had, I had asked her how she found out she liked that. She had trailed a finger along my jaw and said, 'I didn't know it, until I was with you.' Hard as that was to believe, she had me in the frame of mind to believe 8 impossible things before breakfast. I had pressed my bare teeth onto her soft flesh, hearing her say, 'harder…' in a hoarse whisper. I had yet to leave her wanting less. It put me into an unaccustomed position, though. I had to be the one worried about consequences. It made me think of futures, mingled, tangled, messy. And that made me smile. But I had certainly tried to accommodate her needs, biting harder until I could not stand it. She never said quit, never said, 'too much.' I was careful asking her to do things. She might not know when to stop. The rewards of biting her just right, at her wish, in the right place, for the right length of time, were majestic in scope. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her hands tightened on mine, her stomach pulsed and heaved, and her thighs would finally close tightly on my head, stopping the symphony of climax going on above me. Even then she never asked me to stop. Fine with me. I remembered the last time we had spent a whole night together. I had finally slipped off the ledge into sleep, after worrying about what would happen when she awoke. She was up first, and the smell of coffee woke me sometime later. She made it clear she did not drink coffee, which made it even more unlikely that she had taken over my kitchen, found all the fixings, and made coffee. She said she approved of the organization of the room. I was not a neat freak, but I found I could write better if I was not haunted by the spectre of a biology experiment growing in the sink or the fridge. I kept it clean and things put away. Sometimes it was what I did instead of writing. Either way it was clean enough for most folks, and I had not worried about offending her. I had sat at the dining table, sipped coffee and looked at her over the cup. "That robe looks odd on you," I said. She turned, a coquette if ever there was one, and said over her shoulder, "Would you prefer I stood over this stove in no clothes at all?" I shut up. Women and cats do what they do, and man best not interfere. That morning, she had sat with her toast, drank her milk, and we had not spoken except with our eyes. My thoughts ranged from the lewdly erotic to the eternal. After she had left, without inquiry on either side as to when she might be back, I had written furiously for two days. Days later I picked up what I had written, and read it for the first time. It was good. It seems she was preparing me for tomorrow by making today's work better. I would settle for that. Presently, she stirred, her eyelids fluttering in some species-memory of flirtation from the cave-era. She seemed un-surprised to see me looking at her from above. "What are you looking at?" she asked, turning away into the pillow. I leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "I'm looking at you… and I like what I see." This earned me a smile from beneath the hand she was using to hide her face. She peeked out from behind her hand, and dashed up to kiss me quickly on the cheek. Before I could trap her, she had managed to get away, out of the bed, off to the bathroom. Watching her walk away from me, I could not help once again reflecting on how lucky I was. She was gorgeous. And she had so far made no demands. In fact, I found that I was the one wanting something more. I wondered just how far I could push it. I got up and put on the most casual things I had clean, shorts and a T. She came out of the bath, and came toward me, apparently refreshed and wanting a proper good morning kiss. I held her tightly. Anytime I held her it seemed tightly. I know we varied the intensity, with the long practice of good and familiar lovers, but anytime she was near me, I wanted to hold her closer. Closer. We had by some un-spoken mutual consent managed to avoid always the subject of her home and marriage, when she might appear and when she might leave when she was here. Therefore I did not ask if she could stay the day. I didn't have to be back to the park until late that afternoon. A day spent carousing with this lady could be mind-altering. "Breakfast?" I asked. She shook her head and continued kissing me, her mouth seeking, hungry, her tongue and lips playing back and forth against my teeth and tongue. I played back at her, trying to trap her tongue so I could bite it or suck it, but she danced away gleefully, laughing a good laugh deep in her belly. She tugged me toward the bed. Now I was sorry I had dressed. But clothes are like that, they go both ways. I tugged at the cloth of the t-shirt, and she helped, all the while trapping me in a kiss. Our legs danced across the bedroom floor, hesitant steps making sure we would not fall until we reached the bed. By the time we got there, we were both naked again. A pretty state. She pushed against me. I lay on my left side, my arms around her. She pushed harder and harder, tucking her body against mine. Our legs lay together, then intertwined, both of us using even that leverage to get closer together. Her left leg lay atop my hip, cocked up as far as she could get it. My right leg lay between hers, up as far as could be, against her vulva. I could feel the wet heat against the upper part of my thigh. While we kissed, I ran my hand along the back of her thigh… I hinted that I would move toward the wet heat at the center of her legs, but by-passed that, and moved on down her leg, to her foot. I tickled her foot, lightly, and then held it tightly and pressed fingers into the sole of her foot, at the center. Her relief was palpable. She sagged against me, which I guess means she actually moved away from me, since she had been using her muscles to hold herself as tightly against me as she could. I continued pressing the sole of her foot, between the long muscles along the underside, and she gasped and held me tighter. She liked it. I wondered if anyone had ever rubbed her feet for her before. I felt her struggling to remove her arm from underneath me. I helped. She moved it between us and lay it alongside my dick, teasing, working her knuckles along the underside of the shaft. This was a game we played constantly while making love: If I distract you from what you are doing to me, I win. She loved giving oral as much as I did. It made for a potential conflict. She wanted to give, so did I. Sixty-nine had rapidly become more than another technique in the repertoire. It was a necessary compromise. But I had noticed that I wanted more and more to take her away from what she was doing, and give her so much pleasure, she overloaded, and had to stop what she was doing to me, and just enjoy. I gathered great pleasure from those few times she had thrown her head back, let me go, and squeezed a tight-lipped nonsense word from her throat. Since right now, the only distraction was kissing, I concentrated as I could on making her realize there were other parts to her that felt good, too. Her feet. Her breasts, her thighs. I trailed a finger back up her leg toward her middle. I am sure she was not fooled when I said, 'Scuse me, I have an itch right here, and have to take care of it," and proceeded to insinuate my hand between my upper thigh and her pussy. I pretended to scratch my leg, while she grinned at me, so close I saw both her eyes as one. I realized I had looked at her like that a lot. My knuckles moved between her lips, and I rubbed her clit thoroughly, roughly. My reward was to be grasped in an iron grip, her fingers busy along the shaft of my dick. Our kiss only deepened at that. I remember the thought occurring to me more than once while loving this woman - 'How can you move on to anything else, when kissing her is so pleasurable?' Somehow we did, but I did notice that despite both of us saying that doggy-style was a favorite, we had yet to try it. We wanted to be face to face while we made love. I caressed her back with my left hand, trailing my fingers along her spine, down to her ass, and back up to her shoulders. This served as background, almost like the bass line in a jazz piece. The tempo picked up when she ground hard against me. I slowly pulled my hand from between us. I had the thought that her pussy had tried to follow my hand as I pulled it up, but it needn't have worried. I reached around her ass, and pulled her lips apart from above, and slid the tips of my fingers along the crease between her legs. All the parts there were increasingly familiar - the smallish clit, the tiny opening, the inner lips that nearly were not there. I was rewarded with another one of those deep seated grunts. I circled her opening with my finger, then two, while she held me tightly. I worked a finger inside her, and began fucking in and out with them. She was possessed of a slightly spongy area all along the front of her opening. I had found this to be an apparent source of great pleasure for her. I tended it, back and forth, in and out, much to her delight. I noticed I had managed to distract her enough so she was no longer rubbing me, but had her head thrown back and was enjoying herself. It's what I wanted. I concentrated on finding just the right spaces to put her over the top. From somewhere, she managed to find space between us, and close it, because suddenly she was even closer to me. The part of her that was on the bed was now all the way against me, no room between us. We had been together enough by now that I knew, this was the signal, she was telling me, it's time. I rolled her over onto her back, and knelt between her legs. Her eyes were saying things that only close lovers can hear, and I bent to kiss her. She reached up with her legs and captured me, raising her pelvis to me, as I slid farther down the bed to be between her legs. With no aid except nature and desire, we were joined. Always in the first moments of our union, there is a feeling, almost of prayer, that makes me glad we are who we are, that we have become who we are. That thought overtook me again, as I slid into her, and felt her joy at having me there. Pulling out was harder, but had it's own reward in then being able to thrust back in. I moved her arms once again above her head, flat on the bed. "You're trapped," I said. "You can't move." She struggled against imaginary bonds, but then smiled wickedly - "Who's trapped?" she said, as she squeezed me harder with her legs. I looked down at her, knowing the answer. "We both are," I said. I bent to her face, and kissed her. I caught a glimpse of the pendant she was never without, a carousel horse, around her neck. I felt her grind her mouth and hips against me in some insane rhythm, a primordial beat that predated even humanity. Her mouth took what she wanted from me, as I gave her all I could between her legs. She pushed me higher and higher, up the mountain, closer to the top. I felt her legs flex and tighten as she came, and moments later had filled her with all I had to give. I had once again tried to kiss her as I came, and been unable to finish. She knew by now what I wanted, and had kissed me, without expecting anything back for the moment. The last thing I wanted now was to not be on top of her, but I didn’t think it polite to keep her trapped below while we talked. I rolled off and lay on my back, expecting her to come and lay her head on my shoulder. She fit herself to me, cocked her leg over mine, and put her hand on my chest, reaching for my hand. We intertwined our fingers, and I kissed the top of her head. "Who are you, and why are you here?" It was breaking the rule. I knew it even as I said it, but I went ahead. There was no answer for a moment, and she whispered, "I'm yours, while I'm here. Who I am when I'm not here can't matter much." "What if you were here all the time," I ventured quietly. I realized then I was holding my breath to take in any nuance of her reaction. I had broken ALL the rules. She pulled my hand to her mouth and kissed it. "You would tire of me." "Hmmph," I grunted. I thought this might be the beginning of a longer talk, but she squeezed my hand to her face, reached up and kissed me, looked at me closely for a moment, and said, "I have to go." Timing? I didn’t know if I had run her off or not. I didn’t' know what to say. I found myself that way around her a lot. I had never asked her, when will I see you again. I had never asked her to stay, either, but I had just broken than rule. I hesitated, though. The last answer I wanted to the question, when will I see you again, was, never. So, rather than hear that, I kept still and watched her dress. She flashed me an occasional smile as she pulled on her clothes. I was not re-assured. As she neared the end of the process and moved to the bath to repair the rest of her look, I rose, slipped back on the shorts I had on earlier, and stood in the doorway, watching her ministrations. They were as intricate and choreographed as a ballet, a symphony. The result was just as lovely. She stepped to the door. Kissed me and expected me to move from her path. It was hard, but I did, with as much good grace as I could muster. I smiled at her, determined not to show how much I wanted her, how much she had come to mean to me. She gathered up the rest of her things, and turned to me. "One thing I know…I know this is not casual with you. It might have started out that way? But I know it's not now." I nodded. She continued, "For that, I cannot repay you enough. You don’t need to offer me forever, or even months. I love you, I love being with you, and I love my other life, too, for now. I will keep both, if you will let me." She had wound down at the end of this, seemed to deflate a bit. "Debbi, whatever is okay with you, that keeps us as together as we are now, is okay with me." It was her turn to nod. "I have loved, or thought it was love, before. Now I know the difference, and I will take whatever there is to take from it." She reached up and kissed me again. I held her with the conscious thought that I must not hold her too tightly, however I felt. I did not turn and see her out the front door. I heard it click behind her, and suddenly thought I wished I had given her a key of her own. I had not thought of it until this very second. I stood like the donkey between piles of grain, immobile, hesitant, undecided. Would my chasing her down in the parking lot or the street make it any easier on either of us? I decided not. I also decided I would see her again, in her time, not mine. I went to the computer, opened the file to chapter 33, and started in again. I found there was lilt to my thinking that was not there unless I had seen her recently. I used up all the psychic energy she had left me or given me to summon words and actions for characters that were no longer vital to me. She would not like hearing that my work had suffered on her account. I could not let it. I found the state of mind she left me in let me write the darker passages that usually I shy away from. I broke a character, by the neck, and stepped on another. The result was a cleaner story line, clearer to the purpose. Even in uncertainty, she had served me. Carousel Ch. 2 By time to go to work I had three more chapters done. I would have to re-read them to see if they were actually good, but I felt good about them. My way to work at the park was studded with memories of seeing her car here and there on the way, after she no longer felt it necessary to hide it miles away. I still felt the melancholia that could mean a broken relationship, one important to me. But somehow, I knew I would see her again. Carousel Ch. 3 It was purely an accident. I had not meant to spy on her. I was running errands on a weekday off, late afternoon. I had been all the easy places, and now was on the harder ones. I parked in the huge lot, and hit the mall. This is one of those huge places with 200 stores, 3 levels, umpteen escalators… and a carousel. This was of interest since I work for an amusement park, usually running a carousel. The nip in the air reminded me we would be shutting down soon, and I would have to find other work that would let me write most of the day and keep body and soul together the rest of the time. Lately, the carousel had been on my mind for another reason. For the last month I had been involved in a torrid affair with a lady I met there. We had spent as much time together as her other life would allow. I had carefully kept my questions to myself, but her hints had led me to believe her marriage was happy, her two kids were normal teen-agers, and she was at least fond of me. She kept coming back, anyway. As far as I knew, she didn't even have my phone number. She just showed up, expecting I would be alone. Since meeting her, I had been alone. No one else interested me. I stood on the upper level, looking down at the top of the carousel as it spun lazily into the indoor air, the noise from the hurdy-gurdy that accompanied it drifting up to me, some schmalzy show tune. It was her figure that caught my eye. She stepped off the main deck as the big machine slowed to a stop. It was her. I had no doubt. I stayed calm, thoughts rushing a mile a minute: can I talk to her? Is she here alone? Would she think I followed her? The last thought - at least she didn't feign her interest in carousels. Any plans I might have had ended a second later. A tallish gentleman of about her age rose and met her. She reached up to kiss him, and they hugged. I had to wonder, but in a moment two tall red-head gangly teens joined them, and they moved off toward the exits. I found a bench and sat for a minute, watching the earnest faces of shoppers, mothers, lovers, moving back and forth, bound on earnest missions. Okay, dummy, you knew she had a family already. Yeah, but seeing them made it a bit more … tangible. So, when she shows up next time, you gonna say, begone? That one was easier to answer. I wanted to keep breathing, to keep finding out about these new feelings she was giving me. I could no more tell her to take a hike than I could fly. I got up and finished my shopping. By the time I got back to my truck, I had worn out my radar trying to make sure I would not run into anyone unaware. I never knew if it would be 3 days or 3 years before I saw her again. It was that kind of thing. She knew she had me, that I would be available whenever she wanted. If I had felt differently, if I had resented being so obvious, I guess I would have done something about it. But I neither resented it, nor cared. She had opened up worlds in my head, and my heart, and I wanted to explore them, with her. In the meantime, there was plenty of work, and lots of chores, and always the writing. The unsettling feeling she left me with turned out to be good for business. I sold a few short stories at bargain basement prices. The sad thing about it was not only letting the story go, but not being able to call her immediately, and tell her the good news. After school started in all the area districts, our crowds began to thin out. We stayed open weekends until the weather got too cool, but the crowds were barely worth it. The carousel remained a busy ride, and there were nights I would go 30 or 40 minutes at a time without thinking about her. There had been no contact since she left after spending the night with me at my place. I had been unsure of her frame of mind when she left. I had asked her to stay, breaking one of the unspoken rules. I didn't know what arrangements she made to get away. The only reason I would have cared would be to make sure they were secure, and if there was anything I could do to help them along. For the first second after I saw her on the main deck of the carousel, I thought I was just focussing on her too much, that I was hallucinating. She had not bought a ticket. I moved toward her, nodding to the few kids and their parents as I passed. She saw me coming, and fixed me with her eyes. I paused by her ride, the seated chariot, usually reserved for very old, very young, or lovers who did not want to be separated for a moment. Her gaze was level, untroubled, waiting for me to speak first. "Hi." Finally. She was here, and all I could manage was 'hi?' "Hi," she said, softly. The calliope was playing a badly arranged version of Smoke on the Mountain. "I was hoping to see you." "I knew the park would close soon, and I wanted to ride again." I nodded, and moved on through the rest of the deck, making sure no one was doing anything dangerous. Teenagers had been known to risk death to impress a date, and there were places on this machine to get hurt. As I examined my motives for leaving her alone at that second, I found I had to leave her alone, because if I didn't all the ideas she probably had about me, and me and her, would be right, and I was not sure I could stand that. She knew how to come and go like a puff of smoke. I had to wonder if she would still be there when I came around again. She was. I approached her again. This time she spoke first. "Closing at the usual time tonight?" I nodded, almost allowing my hopes to rise. "You gotta be somewhere," I asked. She gave me that enigmatic look I had come to know and love, and said, soundlessly, "Yeah." Now another aspect of our relationship came into play: She had made time stop. Moments earlier it had been 8.30pm, an hour and a half from closing, about 2 hours from me being home. Now, it was 8.32pm, and I was what felt like a month and a half from getting where I wanted to be. "What would you think about meeting me there? About you going on now, waiting for me?" I had no qualms at all about her being there without me. I had earned a raised eyebrow, a questioning look. I fished my keys from my pocket, and separated the door-key. "You know where the place is, and how to get there." She looked around to see if we were unobserved, and reached and took the key. Being her, she could not do it without significant pressure on my hand, just being sure I knew. I heard the subtle tell-tale noises of the machine, letting me know the timer was about to run down. I moved away from her, finding that breaking her gaze was harder than cleaning this ride after a day of teen-glop. By the time I wound my way back around, and started to move the gate to let the next riders in, she was gone. Time slowed even more. By 9.30 there was practically no one in the park. I caught up with the paper work that went with the ride, inspections, tickets, receipts. At 10pm sharp, I deposited the sheaf of papers at the front office/shack, and hightailed it to my truck. I slid out of the parking lot, hustling, careful not to run over any recent patrons. In my younger days, I rode motorcycles. I always felt instead of riding, I was being pulled along, toward something I had little control of. It's why I stopped riding them. Tonight, that feeling returned. The engine beneath the hood, my conscious thoughts controlling the direction of the vehicle, meant nothing. I was being whisked along, unbidden. The ride would stop where it stopped. Her car was stashed around a corner. I saw it as I went by. I parked on the street in my usual spot, locked and secured the truck, and dashed to the old house subdivided into apartments. Then I remembered: I had no key! I swerved at the last second toward the side of the house, and moved quickly behind it to the rear door, hoping that I would not wake a neighbor, or a neighbor's dog. I must have moved too fast. Nothing stirred, nothing noted my passage. I retrieved the spare key from it's hiding place, and slipped open the back door. I put the key back, knowing I would not be thinking about it in the near future. The cold metal of the key made think about having her one made. I shrugged off my jacket, stepped quickly to the front door, feeling like a burglar in my own house. I checked to make sure it was locked. The scant light from the small entry lamp showed an oversized duffle on the floor. 'Hmm,' I thought. 'If that has clothes in it…' But right now I only wanted to find Debbi, and kiss her. I had made no effort to hide my presence. I had only hurried in a completely familiar place, even in the dark. So I was not sure if this show was for my benefit, or if I was just lucky. She lay on her right side on my bed, wearing only a sea-green t-shirt. One of mine, I hoped. The bedside lamp was on, but most of the scene was lit by the streetlight outside the window. Her long good legs were visible, as was her ass. I stopped, and moved toward the bed. Her eyes were closed. Her right hand disappeared between her legs, and the rest of the story was told in sound and light, both focussed on her face. I moved back. Her face, bathed in the light from the small bedside lamp, was contorted in that special way she had of looking. I might have wanted to see what she was doing with those fingers, but I was transfixed by her face. Her mouth slightly open, her brows low, concentrating on her task. I moved back to the chair I used to sit in to change shoes, and sat quietly. If this was a performance, it was for me, and I wasn't going to mess it up. If it was not, it was too private to intrude on. Either way, I watched. She adjusted her legs from time to time, to give herself more access, change angles. Her left hand lay on the bed, except for the brief times she placed her hand on her chest, tweaking her nipples through the cotton of the t-shirt. Her breath rattled in and out of her throat. It was a symphony. She sighed, wheezed, and rasped, eyes firmly shut. Her legs flexed from time to time, ranging from steely hard to lovingly soft. I could even see her stomach muscles flex beneath the shirt. But it was her face that fascinated me. It reminded me of the embers of a perfect campfire, heat darting across in ephemeral packets gone quickly as they are perceived. A look would come on her face, and be gone as quickly. Her open mouth and flared nostrils gave a hint to her struggle to breathe, but her pleased smile from time to time left no question that she knew what she was doing. The sounds she made revealed more of the flight taking place inside her head. She would start a sound deep in her throat, and end it with little modulation, only breath, hissing from her like air from a tire. On the intake her mouth would open to gulp in gouts of air to fuel her struggle. I saw her squeeze her nipples again. I could imagine her fingers pressing painfully on either side of her clit. She was doing this, but this lady was built for being with someone, not for being alone. Her whole body was crying out for contact, not just between her legs. If I had been with her at this moment, she would have been kissing me, her arms wrapped tightly around me, touching me everywhere she could press her flesh against me. It was how we became one. The hand between her legs began moving rapidly back and forth, then top to bottom. Her hum stopped. Her legs clenched, and her eyes snapped open, but not to see, only to believe. I knew what it was like from the outside. If my head was between her legs at this instant, I would be able to feel every ounce of her muscle as she made her thighs rigid and tense with orgasm. Her body stiffened, and one last sound escaped her throat. As she relaxed she acknowledged me with a smile that dwarfed the light in the room. But her eyes closed, her arm slipped from between her legs onto the bed, her head slumped toward the pillow, and she slipped into sleep, quickly. I rose with a smile on my face. She had known just what she was doing. It had been a gift, from her to me. I covered her with a light blanket, and moved to undress, shower, and do some of the daily chores that kept this place neat enough I could just hand her a key without having to warn her about monsters in the fridge. If I skipped a couple, put off a couple more, and rushed to bed, it is surely understandable. I slipped under the cover with her, and spread it out over us. I moved to our position, and even in her dream-state, she moved against me. I hoped it was me she was moving against, and not the father of her children. Her ass against my front, me tucked comfortably between them. My arm beneath her head, gently, not wanting to disturb her, my other arm over her, gently tugging her toward me. Just before I slept, I took a chance on moving my hand up, over her breasts, toward her neck, checking. Yes, the pendant with the single horse was there. This was my girl, and perhaps, before the day was out tomorrow, I would be able to show it. Just before I winked out, I remembered: What was that duffle all about? Carousel Ch. 4 Watching her dress, stepped out of the shower, head tied up in a towel. We were on our 3rd full day together, and I was not tired of her yet. My job at the amusement park was in mothballs til spring. I had a retail job I would get to next week. This was the week of the year I usually devoted to cleaning up loose ends, finishing stories I had to submit. That was all going much better. I had sold three since I started seeing Debbi. The bit of extra money was going partly to this trip, and partly to new clothes, and new printer. After surprising me, my last night at work this summer/fall, she had slept at my place, and made it clear the next morning that she wanted to get away. I was free, why not. I didn't ask where her family might think she was, or where she would be. She carried no pager, no cell phone, just a duffle bag with a few clothes. And an attitude. I had finally determined in my own mind this lady was running from something. I had accidentally caught a glimpse of her other life - an indoor carousel at a mall in northtown. I didn't know what her full story was, but she was good for me, and I made sure she had reason to think the same of me. We had headed outta town that next morning. I had the laptop if I got the chance to work, but this was looking more and more like a vacation. We had visited zoos, sanctuaries, nature centers. She had taken about a million photographs. Not of me, but all around me. She looked more relaxed and refreshed than I had seen her. I reminded myself I had not seen her at her worst, but usually only at or near her best. Now she was radiant. I had showered earlier, and sat on the bed, watching her dressing ritual, by this time familiar to me as my own face in a mirror. She had complained at first, saying I should not watch her so intently do things that were so necessary, like make-up (pff!) hair (aaaah!) and eyes (aahhhh.) I had countered that argument by pointing out I was doing research, and shut up, you might wind up in a book, or at least a story. Her response to that had been memorable - the look haunted me, still, as I remembered her saying, "Is it a short story?" "I don't know Debbi. I hope not." That had been the first morning, as she readied herself to leave town, after she had made it clear we were leaving. "What made you so sure I would just drop everything and drive 300 miles with you?" She had looked over her shoulder, ever the coquette, and said, "…'cause I woulda done it for you." Infallible female logic. I woulda, too. So here we were, 300 miles and two states away from our physical homes, more at home with each other than with our own bodies, almost. For the present, I waited and watched her pull a comb thru her thick red hair. Her boobs bounced slightly as the comb tugged free. The motion caught my eye, much as she had almost 3 months earlier. This was a well-put-together woman. Her physique was 40ish, but her attitude and outlook, at least around me, had been more early 20s, teen-aged, even, at times. The first day out, we had slowly moved through hill country, stopping at small towns, shops, isolated towns. In no hurry, with apparently no real aim in mind, other than get-away. A child at a fruit market had charmed her into tomatoes, which we had no way to store, and no hope of eating. I had watched the interplay, and known the two kids I had seen with her for a fleeting moment one day were quite lucky to have this lady. In another small town, she had been importuned by a self-important church lady, waving tracts and braying about salvation. Debbi had listened quietly while I fumed. But my patience was rewarded when Debbi asked her, in a flat voice that stopped her cold - "Do you think God would allow you more success if you washed your feet?" The lady had looked down at her sandals and Debbi took the opportunity to escape into the truck. I was laughing harder as we accelerated outta town. "She coulda said that Jesus wore sandals, you know," I said. "Yes, but I had the feeling she was not that quick-witted." "Turned out you were right." I looked over at her, relaxed, belted into the passenger seat, still settling into the seat. "You right about everything?" She turned to look me in the eye, disadvantaged by the fact I had to drive. "Usually. So far, anyway." We drove on in a companionable silence for a few miles. "Debbi, tell me." She gave me her attention. "What do you like? I mean, do you want to visit a zoo? Go to movies? Have picnics? You and I sorta started in the middle of a relationship. Not that I'm complaining! But I don't know what you like, what you want to do just to spend time." I stole a glance her way. She was studying me intently. "Movies are fine. The zoo there is wonderful. I haven't been there in a while, but it's a great one. Picnics are okay, the right time of year, a bit cooler, that is." I had more to go on, now, but she could still tell me more, if she would. "Are you gonna make me pull teeth to find out things about you?" I asked. "No. You already know what I like to do." I knew that if I could have looked at her in that instant, she would have had that playful grin on her face. "Why would we need to do anything else?" "Because, dear, at my age, I can't do THAT all the time!" "Your age has not slowed you down that I can tell." "I have carefully hidden the effects from you. Deep down, I'm in big trouble." She reached to my lap, and said, "How big?" as she caressed me through my jeans. I squirmed, and reached for her. She managed to stay just far enough away I would have had to stop the truck or risk a pile-up to reach her. She laughed, and the cab was filled with music and memories of stars and sunsets. We settled back, and let the miles go by. The land flattened, the river ran, and the time passed. She undid her seat belt and turned so she could put her head in my lap. She rebuckled her seat belt around her hips, and made herself comfortable. Not knowing if she wanted to sleep or be tended, I moved my right hand from the wheel, and slowly rubbed her back and flank, carefully avoiding anything that could be considered suggestive. I didn't have to give her ideas. She had plenty on her own. Her hands were tucked beneath her head. I asked if she wanted the travel pillow I kept in the back. She shook her head, and I let myself believe it was because she wanted to be next to me. I adjusted the playback on the tape I had going, and continued to rub her back. I drifted in my mind back to the previous night. She had come to the park just at closing. I had given her a key. She had been in my bed when I got home. Long time since that happened. When I awoke the next morning, she had been dressed, nearly ready to go, and told me her plan: Get out of town, stay a week or more, and come home ready to meet the work-a-day world. Since she had not said with whom she wanted to meet the world, I had room to fantasize. I had tied up some loose ends, cleaned up, packed in 25 minutes, and hit the road, happy to be with this magnificent creature who made it her business to make me happy. Now we had been 3 days in a strange town, loving, living, eating, joking, playing, looking. She had me to the point for 15 or 20 minutes at a time, I could forget this had to end sometime. The crash in my head and heart when the knowledge came rushing back to me, was getting less and less resounding. In some circles, this could be seen as acceptance. We had eaten at a Chinese restaurant, with goldfish running through ponds set in the walls and floors. We had visited the zoo, with the Imax theater, seeing a show about the Grand Canyon. We had walked through a river park, and through the oldest section of downtown, where funky little shops offered everything from used books to sheep skin leather coats. A street fair in the Italian section of town had caught her fancy, and she had danced in the sunshine with an old man with merry eyes, making his day and mine. The old man had said to me, "Your wife is wonderful!!" The old man's wife had not been fooled however, tossing her head in a elegant gesture of disapproval as Debbi had hugged me with glowing cheeks, flushed from exertion, her smile so wide it felt like it hurt her face. In the evenings, as she rested, sleeping lightly on the couch in the room, I had typed furiously on the laptop, writing a story of love and wonder set in an earlier century. I had not known it was there. Part of me knew it was a gift from Debbi, but I could not think about that while I wrote it down, typing at maximum speed before it leaked out of my head. The evening before, as we had prepared for bed, she had been looking at the screen when I emerged from the shower, wet, dripping. I had stopped rubbing the towel on my head, and looked closely at her. She had a bemused look as she scrolled through the pages on the screen. "What?" I said. She looked up at me, and asked, "Do I always sound like this heroine of yours? In the heat of passion, do I make those noises?" "If you are asking if you are the inspiration for that character, yes. And before you get all swelled-headed, know this: I may not be able to write any other female characters, since you are the only one that matters anymore." I pulled her to her feet, and kissed her. She clung to me tightly, the flimsy nightie she had put on rough against us both. I have tried to write kisses before I met this lady. I had not succeeded that well then, but until I knew her, I didn't know how badly I had failed. Or maybe it was that now I had a referent, and knew that all other encounters had paled next to kissing this lady. She had turned a kiss into an event, world-class. Her mouth moved against mine. Her teeth pressed at me from inside her mouth, her tongue darted against my lips. Most guys would by this point be calculating the odds of getting her into bed. That was her magic. All I was doing now, was kissing her, because she made it the most important thing of all. Her hips moved against me, urgent. I responded, helpless to do otherwise. Tall as she is, I am quite a bit taller. I was never conscious of stooping to kiss her. She pulled me to her, thighs against mine, pelvis grinding against me, filling me with desire. I reached to the hollow of her waist, and picked her up from the floor. Her legs wrapped around me, feet locked behind me, kiss never broken. I knelt at the edge of the bed, and lay her down gently, arms circling her. Her legs squeezed me tightly, her mouth urgent against mine. As my full weight descended onto her, she pulled her hips and pelvis against me, feeling for my hardness with her fiery wet spot. We continued to kiss. Her tongue darted around my mouth while she adjusted her body to mine, unconscious of her movements. It was not a matter of putting this here, or that there, it was only a matter of making things right, having me against her here, not against her there, our mouths close, our hands finally together, our bodies met. I moved her another foot onto the bed, and slipped between her legs, changing the angle so I could penetrate her. Heat and pleasure rose up from her as her stomach muscles flexed and bent, moving her pubis to the right angle to receive me. Her arms were locked around my back, like her legs. My arms were around her, behind her, on the bed. There was nothing left to make entry easier. Not to worry. She pulled the end of my dick down with her pussy, and swallowed it all in one motion. From the moment we had begun, we had been kissing. We still were. I slid carefully into her, as carefully as one enters heaven, while nipping at her lips, sliding my tongue into her mouth, chasing her tongue, making her laugh as she made it dance out of reach. There was no part of her she didn't' want me to have, but she wanted me to earn it all. I leaned my head onto the bed, her head turned to continue kissing me. Then we hit a very sweet spot, because she finally broke the kiss, turned her head straight up and gulped in great gouts of air, not because kissing had deprived her of breath, but because the union we had effected had somehow made her soar, had lifted her to a high place, where the air was thin and made her work to breathe. I huffed out on her shoulder, not wanting to move except in one spot, which was pulsing in and out. I found the breath to kiss her neck, her shoulder, and tongue the angle of her throat, following the line of it down from her jaw to her collarbone. In response, she shuddered. I felt better about that than graduating from high school. I wanted her on overload, unable to process information except in dribs and drabs, because always in the back of my mind, I was sure that if she thought about it, she would leave, and not return. I felt that if she was engaged enough, sexually, she would be unable to think well enough to realize she was with me. A hearty grunt escaped her throat. She called my name. I pumped in and out as she wetly grasped at me. Her arms moved lower on my back, pushing me harder into her. She was demanding more, and I wanted her to have it. From me. I pushed until I felt her legs move aside even wider, to accommodate me. I felt my length all the way into her, and knew that the heights were just beyond. I slipped my right arm from beneath her, and moved it to her ass. I gathered a handful of flesh, and kneaded it as I pounded in and out of her. My fingers moved closer to her backside. Her legs lifted higher to grant me access. Her knees were nearly at her head. I moved away a bit, supporting myself with an arm as I worked in and out of her. She had that look on her face, the one that said she had gone internal, making her own feelings paramount. She was working at sex, greatest of all endeavors. Her hips thrust toward me as I moved into her. Hard to believe only 5 minutes earlier I had been alone in the shower. I had the feeling I would never be really alone ever again. I searched her face for clues as to her place on the mountain. She closed her eyes and moaned again. But it was her hand that gave her away. As I moved faster and faster in and out of her, her hand touched the arm that was supporting my weight on my elbow. It was the gentlest touch, barely noticeable on a clear night alone under the clouds. It should have gone unnoticed in the storm of love-making. But she touched me with her fingertips. And her eyes went out of focus. And she gushed liquid from her insides, making the pussy I was fucking a hot well of pleasure and sensuousness. Whatever her liquid, I topped it. I added to it. Gushing back into her all the froth and salty solution which emanated from her. I came and came, locked into her eyes, doing my best to remain coherent enough to kiss her, failing at that and surrendering to the ultimate pleasure. I straightened my legs. Hers left my sides, lowered to the bed. I stopped in my move to disengage, even slightly, and stooped to kiss her, again. I knew by now to be careful. She would be ready to go again, and for the next little while I had nothing to offer. I moved from between her legs, and lay beside her. She curled into me, facing me. I loved this. Rather than the easier way of spooning against me, she wanted to face me, wanted us together even in this. Later would be time for cuddling. I spread her legs, and put my thigh between her legs, careful not to bump sensitive areas. I reached behind me, and swept the coverlet over us. It was light enough to let air exchange, but heavy enough to keep flowing air off us. I didn't want drafts right now. I wanted kisses, and whispers. "Did you mean for that to happen, right out of the shower?" she asked. "Darling, you surely know by now that anytime is the right time for that, between us. How 'bout you? You only just got cleaned up, too." She looked up at me. "What do you think I got cleaned up FOR?" I smiled back at her. She was for the moment at that impish stage, which would not last long. She would want to talk a while. I fought back sleep rays. "Have you had a good time, today?" I asked. She whispered, "Compared to the last 10 minutes, no." I smiled again. 'God,' I thought, 'if you mean even half of what you say…' "It's still light out. Do you want to go anywhere?" Head shake, negative. All right with me. I would worry about room service in a bit. Right now, I wanted to love this woman, in the afterglow of another encounter that I had never dreamt of, but that had lately become my world. I kissed her forehead, which earned me a tilted head, proffered lips, and lovely eyes. She was tired, I could tell, since her back and hips did not arch into me. We kissed, and she moved away. I threw off the covers, and watched as she retreated to the bath. The door closed. I waited. …and snapped awake. I had fallen asleep for about a second. Seemed longer. I heard the water running. She returned, and rummaged in her bag, found a favorite sleeping shirt, and put it on. No panties. This time she turned and put her back against me, but for 15 minutes, she never stopped burrowing, getting closer. I had my arms around her, my pillow arranged so I could have my head next to hers, our legs twined together. Again, as had become a ritual, or a reminder of other lives, I reached up to her neck, and touched her necklace - a carousel horse. It had become a touchstone to us, though I had not been the one to give it to her. I woke to soft music, piano and strings. She had gotten up sometime, and put on a CD. The music wafted gently into the indoor air. The subdued light from the bathroom showed her sitting in the overstuffed chair, by the window. She was looking out through the sheers, heavier curtain pulled back. I marveled again at the lines of her face. She had a chiseled look, finely shaped bones, great skin, and lovely hair. The eyes I knew, but could not see well at this distance. I rustled the covers to see her reaction, and there was none. I threw back the top covers, and slowly sat up. Now she turned to me, and looked a haunting look back at me. "Morning." "Surely not yet, is it?" I asked, unbelieving. She smiled. "No, but it is after midnight. What should I have said, Mr Writer? Good---- what?" "Ok, ok. Good morning." I stood and trooped to the bath. When I came out a few moments later, she was still staring out the window. "Big city nightlife?" I asked. "No, just thinking." It was as I had feared. When she had time to think, to consider her actions, she would not hesitate to tell me to take her home, or find her own way home. I don't think my voice croaked when I asked, "About what?" but it might have. She tried impish. Newsflash for anyone who needs to know: Impish is not a good thing at 2.30am in a foreign city, even with someone you have charmed into loving you. "About waking you up and finding out what it's like to make love at 2.30am." Suddenly I didn't care if impish was the right attitude or not. Worked for me. I pulled her to her feet and kissed her. She melted against me. The thought ran through my mind - 'This lady is…' and I stopped there. All what? All mine? All sex? All … what? She broke the kiss before my unruly mind could answer an unanswerable question. She tugged me by the hand toward the bed, pushed me over onto my back and straddled my face with her legs. Now this, as a midnight diversion, I could get used to. When we had done this in the recent past, it had seemed important to her to control herself, not let herself go. She would let me eat her happily, but I had the idea her real pleasure was in the giving, not so much getting. Which worked out. I had never come that way in my life, and despite growing feelings for this lady, I didn't see that changing. She had admitted to me she liked eating, and was okay with getting. So we had a basis for pleasing each other. Carousel Ch. 4 But this time…. She ground herself into my face, onto my mouth. I arranged my arms and hands so they were around her waist, pulling her into my mouth. She was busy too, but right now, she had inflamed my desire to have her my way. I had the quick thought - 'If I can distract her from what she is doing, I win.' I set about doing that. Her hands were around me, her mouth busy and engaged. If I could get her to concentrate more on her own pleasure, I would have mastered her, if only for a second. I should have known by now that nothing with this lady was straight ahead, without the unexpected. I slipped her clit into my mouth. I bit down, slowly, lightly at first, and was rewarded as I had expected - a whispered, urgent, "Biiiiiiite…" I couched my teeth in my lips and bit down harder. I had never gotten her to say 'Stop.' This was not to be the exception. I bit much harder than I was comfortable with, but instead of hurting her, she gasped, rested her head on my thigh, and huffed out enough air to fill a sail. My arms against her belly told me she had contracted to a very small point. I knew that if I could feel her neck at this moment, the cords would be straining, her throat tight. I kept up the pressure, and finally pushed her past the edge by flicking my tongue against her clit, without let-up. Her night-cry was short but intense, the voice of woman-pleasure, fulfilled. Her forehead rested against my thigh. I lay back, looking at her legs, all of her. I expected her to move off me, and come up to me, but I was wrong. She was not through yet with what she was doing. And if the dictum is true about a woman never being more ready than when she just has, this lady was ready! She fell to on me again, surprising me. She spread her legs again, and pushed her pussy toward me. I obliged, determined to once again distract her. I circled her clit and sucked into it's place again, and began rubbing my tongue against her. She reacted by pushing harder against my face and jacking me harder in her hand. I felt her reach for something beyond me, felt her hand sliding down my leg. I continued holding her, my arms around her waist, pulling her to me, even harder. I felt something bump the underside of my upper arm. I reached down to see what it was, and she was pressing a bullet shape into my hand. Since I was not giving up my pride of place on her pussy, I had to assume she wanted me to use it on her other opening. I set it against her, and twirled it slowly at the center of the tight opening. I let go of her pussy only long enough to run the end of the vibrator along her slit, slicking it up for it's next job. I set it again at her back opening, and moved it in a small circle while I opened up and situated her pussy in my mouth again. I heard her grunt as it slipped in. I didn't recognize the toy and at this moment didn't know if it was inert, or battery operated. I found the switch at the flat end as the device slid into her nearly all the way. There was a ring around the base, I suppose to keep it from falling in. She clamped down on the body of the toy, and I twisted the ring carefully. I felt the vibrations begin, tickling my nose. I pushed the toy farther into her. I then entered that more or less unconscious state, the one where you are doing two things at once. I was having more fun eating her, but I was also interested in pushing that vibrator into her, over and over again as the pressure from inside kept pushing it back out. I held her clit between my teeth gently, and moved the exposed end of the toy around in a large circle. I was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. I didn't know if she could come again this soon, even with this added stimulation, but I hoped she could. I concentrated on making her forget about eating me, and kept up the pressure on her clit and ass. She was distracted, all right. And I soon had the answer to the question about whether or not she could come again. She could. My arms were around her thighs and waist, my hands draped back over her backside, spreading her cheeks, toying with her ass, plunging the toy into her again and again. I could feel the pulsing of the toy as it reached into her as far as it could. Suddenly I felt her legs tense, her arms get tight on my legs, and her legs squeeze me tightly. I watched in wonder as her color between her legs turned bright pink, then deep red, and pussy pulsed on my tongue. I took the chance that she would want to slow down a moment, now, and removed the toy, dropping it on the floor by the bed. The best thing right now was she wanted to be kissed, now. Right now. She quickly moved off me, and turned to face me, and dived toward me, her mouth seeking mine. Her tongue was busy, her lips alive. Her hands caressed me, holding me tightly, her entire demeanor of someone needing re-assurance, giving attention and love in the right proportions so she could be sure she had returned measure for measure. Finally she lay beside me, holding me, her head on my shoulder. "You make me very happy, you know." "Good," I said. "I would hate to be the only one in the room who was happy." I felt her smile. If you drive to work, or anywhere, often, repeatedly, you know how it feels to get comfortable, not even looking at the road signs or the surroundings to know where you are. In the same way your tongue knows the inside of your mouth, or hers, I knew where we were in the process, the series of events that lead from here to there. We were here, quiet in bed. We were going there, up the mountain that she and I lived beside each time we were together. The road was familiar, even beloved. The faint stirrings of her legs and hips against me told me she was thinking of me, of us, in the way lovers have. Her body was here in this moment, but her mind was well ahead, thinking of how it would be in a few minutes, when I was doing this or that. Her hands moved with purpose to hold me, enfolding me in her grasp, neither too tight nor too loose. Her arm reached farther, circling me, pulling me to her. Finally her head raised, her mouth seeking mine. I pulled her to me, closer, tighter, as we kissed. Her breasts against my chest felt good. The arm she had been laying on I felt pressed behind me, around my neck, increasing her leverage to get closer, to kiss me harder. I felt her legs spread, her thighs separate and circle my thigh as she lay more and more atop me. Her thigh was next to my dick now, her hand busy working back and forth. I continued to rub her back and her arm. Suddenly she squeezed me tightly. I had to break our kiss to breathe. When I did, she took the moment to move away from me, only to situate herself on her haunches, next to me, just out of reach so she could swallow me. I didn't have time to think of the unfairness. We had been in 69 when she came, and she had been eating me up to that moment. Now she was getting to eat me without distractions. Like I said, I didn't have time to think of that, not now. Her hand was around me, holding tightly. She bent to me and laved me with her tongue, and flashed that impish smile at me as she engulfed me. I felt her tongue dart back and forth as she did her best to drive me crazy. I lay back on the pillow and stretched my fingers far enough to reach at least the outside of her thigh. At least I was touching her now. Her dark red hair was short, beautiful. She had no need to flip it up out of her way. And I had an unobstructed view of what she was doing - when I could concentrate. She worked her hand up and down in time with some rhythm in her head. From time to time she would stretch the pinky on the hand that was holding me, and dig it into the center of the sack beneath. I got the idea she was doing that to let me know it was her. No worries. Her right hand was flat on my stomach, playing with the skin and hair there. Now and then she would pinch enough to keep my attention distracted a bit. When I could look at her, I saw her breasts beyond her arms, nipples hard and taut. I looked at her flanks, her legs bent at the knee, that great ass of hers sitting on her feet and ankles. The smooth muscles along her thighs flexed, and in the small part of my brain not being pleasured by her, I saw her legs part. I felt her right hand disappear from my stomach, and dive between her legs. I smiled, and lay back. She could certainly take care of herself at least as well as I could. She made the best of her remaining tools, her hand and her mouth. Her tongue teased at the head of my dick, intense feelings stabbing out from there to the rest of me. Her hand jacked up and down, meeting her lips as she teased at the head like licking the best ice cream cone she had ever seen. Any number of times she made me tense up, my hips bucking off the bed, the feelings just too much for the moment. This was another of those signposts on the mountain road that told me which way we would go and not go, and what we would see along the way: I had tried before to insinuate my hand under her while she enjoyed herself this way. She had firmly planted her lower leg into the bed, and not let me pass. Since her knee was against my hip, I had no access to the paradise between her legs. I had given up and just lay back and enjoyed. It was worth it. She was bent double, working at her task. The sensations her ministrations sent through me were exquisite. I would never mistake these feelings for good ol' missionary-doggie-her-on-top-spoon fashion sex, but as an appetizer, they were wonderful. It was a balancing act though, a tight-rope act with all sorts of considerations as to consequences. At what point do I stop her, and we go on to the next stage of the mountain road? Since it will not lead to an end, should I stop her at all? Or just let her go until she wants to stop? For the moment I just lay back and enjoyed both of us. She cupped me with her other hand, while she gently jacked up and down, her mouth at the tip. She had turned this into a distinctly intimate kiss. Her tongue flicked out at the head as she gave me a sideways glance, her eyes dancing and playful. All the nerves reached up to her, straining for another touch of that wonderful tongue. I'd had about all I could stand for the moment. I loved her, and I told her so as I flexed my stomach, rose up and captured her, tumbling her over backwards onto her back. At some point in that process, she had not only become resigned to it, but was convinced it was her idea, and whatever had taken me so long? I bent to kiss her again, my arms slipping around behind her. The top of the mountain road was just ahead, and all the curves and bends were familiar from here: Her legs separated just right, she situated herself under me just so, my knees were a predictable distance from her ass, our bellies met as we kissed, her breasts against my chest. The moment I moved to close what little distance was between us, I knew she would meet me with her middle. I continued to kiss her, feeling her lips tongue and hands caressing me as we ground our bodies together. Her knees grasped at my sides, and pulled me closer to her. She used her purchase to lift herself up, rubbing herself against my dick as we readied each other for the sprint to the finish. The moment of the opening of the gate - I slipped inside. It was heavenly. Again I didn't want to move, but before long, moving seemed it would offer even more pleasure, and I began to rock back and forth, slowly sliding in and out of her, still locked in a kiss. I was thankful at that moment we could both breathe through our noses, at least. We pitched along, rocking up and back, along the path upward. I felt her breath catch once, twice, and her small voice escape her lips as she gather all the pleasure she could from the moment. I did a very 'guy' thing and concentrated on my dick for the moment, feeling every millimeter of it enter and retract. Something made us step up the pace. I moved faster, she responded by holding me tighter, bucking into me, effectively doubling the rate we pounded each other. To breathe better, I moved away from her, standing on my knees between her legs, looking at her. I gazed into her eyes as I fucked her. The angle was not as satisfying, but the view was tremendous: her breasts, her eyes, her face. I wanted that to be the last I saw and heard. I fell on her again, her mouth seeking mine. Pumping again, harder, I felt the beginning sensation that would lead to the stars, launched from this mountaintop. I pulled up, trying to lift her from the bed with my dick alone. The resulting feelings multiplied, and I moved faster and faster. I wanted to kiss as we came, but I could only say, 'Debbbbbbb….' She knew what I meant, and kissed my mouth as I poured into her. As soon as I could I kissed her back. "Why are your eyes closed?" she asked. I thought for a second. "I am afraid if I open them, you might not be there." "O, I'm here," she said. And kissed me again, to prove it. I moved off her, reached for the towel. We readied ourselves for sleep, arranging arms and legs in a most satisfactory manner, intertwined, peaceful, resting, no pressure on any surface not meant for it. My lips were near her ear again. I whispered to her, "Love you…" Her head bent away from me, but her body came nearer, pressing hard against me. The afterglow of sensations increased as she pressed her ass against me, echoes of feelings sweetly remembered. I thought I heard her say, "…you too…" but I wasn't sure. It didn't matter. I loved her, and we would find a way to make this, or whatever arrangement, work. I reached up and touched her necklace again. She grasped my hand, and kissed my fingers, squeezing tightly, as if that would make it all okay. For the moment, it did. Tomorrow was another day. Carousel Horses Something Wicked An offer to stay at Angie's family getaway cottage in Maine had Ingrid on the road and nearing her destination. She hoped that the turning of the seasons would give her a new perspective and inspiration for her paintings. The cottage was near Seboeis, a little town in Penobscot County, overlooking Seboeis Lake. It was only an hour or so from Bangor and it was a very pleasant drive. It was a sleepy little town, just starting to snuggle down for the coming winter. There was a bit of a bite in the air and a chill October breeze was just getting started. As evening was quickly approaching she decided to drive straight up to the cottage. She could spend the day exploring the little town tomorrow. It seemed to be the very essence of small town Maine. Glancing down at the directions she left town down one of the small side roads. It wasn't to long till she spotted the entrance to the driveway. She turned and drove up the long, winding, dirt driveway flanked on both sides by maples and oaks dressed in their bright fall colors. She arrived at the cottage just as the sun was setting. She stepped out of the car and looked out over the lake, the bright colors of the sunset reflecting off the water blended with the vivid colors of the foliage. Spectacular was the only word that came to mind. She slowly unpacked her few belongings from the car, spending most of her time gazing at the sunset reflecting off the lake. Her easel, paints, brushes and canvases were placed near the door so not a moment would be lost when the mood struck. The tingle in her fingers told her the mood was not far off either. Soon she knew the urge to cover a canvas in color would be overpowering. But for now the grumbling in her tummy was more insistent, complaining about a long overdue dinner. She ate a light meal and explored the cottage a bit. The country kitchen with its big cooking fireplace she had already explored and there wasn't much more. The living room had its own impressive fireplace dominating one side of the room. Down a short hall were two bedrooms each with their own fireplace. Tucked away at the end of the hall was a small bathroom. Angie had said that the entire house had been modernized when the bathroom was added so the fireplaces were no longer used to heat the house. The living room fireplace looked just right to cozy up to on a cold winter's night. Right now a warm fire seemed like the end to a perfect evening and soon a fire blazed merrily away. Hot chocolate in hand and wrapped up in an old comfortable blanket, Ingrid read the evening away. When her eyes became to heavy she banked the fair and snuggled back up on the couch. Her dreams were warm and pleasant that night. She woke in the morning and discovered she didn't really have anything to eat. It seemed that she would be making the run to town sooner than she expected. A mischievous smile flitted across her face at the thought. If she had to go to town then she should at least dress for it. There was nothing quite like shocking a sleepy little town after all. She showered and dressed, first her white demi-bra and white thong followed by a short plaid skirt and a sheer silk blouse with just a few buttons left undone. High-heeled calf high boots completely her attire. She checked her reflection in the mirror and smiled. If anyone looked hard enough they would just be able to make out her nipples through her blouse. She giggled to her self, grabbed her keys and headed to the car. It was not a long drive back to the town and it was small enough that she quickly found the small grocery store. In fact she had past it the night before. Nearby in an open field a small carnival had setup. "They moved fast," she thought to herself. She was sure that the field had been empty yesterday. She stepped out of her car and took a quick look. There were a number of different tents and some of the standard rides, and a large carousel dominated one end. The carousel struck her as odd, traveling carnivals didn't usually have such a large ride. She would definitely have to take a closer look now. One of her friends painted carousel horses and he would be sure to quiz her on it if she said anything. She couldn't see much from here but it did not look open yet. She went inside the grocery and was pleased at the shocked look of the older man behind the register. He glanced up once, and then stared for a moment before turning bright red as she smiled at him. She took one of the small carts and heading down the aisle. She moved quickly filling her cart with enough to last her for a few weeks. She did notice that the high school stock boy seemed to be following her with the broom. She smiled to herself as a naughty thought came to her. She started picking items from high up on the shelves making sure her breasts strained against her blouse and her skirt rode up a bit. She smiled when she saw how big his eyes could get. She turned a corner and saw just what she was looking for, a low open topped freezer. She walked over to it and slowly bent over to examine the meat inside knowing that her skirt was riding up revealing her ass to the young man. She paused for a moment making sure he had a good view. She stood and moved around to the other side and bent over again this time offering him a good view of her breasts. She stood slowly pretending to examine the package she had selected making sure he could see how hard the cold air in the freezer had made her nipples. She glanced his way and he was still as a statue his eyes wide with wonder. She smiled at him and moved back up one of the aisles. She went to the register and the old man turned bright red again as soon as he saw her. She placed her items on the counter for him to check out . "Just visiting? Or will you be staying the winter?" "Oh no, I'll just be here for a few weeks. I'm going to do some painting at my friend's cottage." "I see, and whose place would that be?" "Angie Kinnart's." "Ah yes, the old Kinnart place, been in their family for going on a hundred years I suspect now. If you need anything just call and I can have the boy bring it up to you." "Well thank so much, I appreciate that." Ingrid could see the eyes of the stock boy brighten up at the thought of making a delivery to the cottage. She just might have to make that little thought come true. "Oh, do you know anything about that little carnival out in the field." "Mmm can't say as I do, they just showed up last night but a tall fellow dropped these flyers off this morning. I think they will be opening tonight." She looked at the flyer, bright orange with a pile of carved leering pumpkin heads in one corner. It said "Come One, Come All, to Professor Black's Traveling Show. So Much Fun You May Never Go Home." "I see, very interesting, well I might just have to come down and take a look then. Thanks." With that Ingrid took her groceries and headed to the car. She placed them inside and locked the car and walked over towards the carnival grounds. It was rather a gloomy looking carnival and she couldn't see any workers. She wandered down the wooden fence that had been erected around the carnival grounds. She could see that the biggest tent was a sideshow and next to it a smaller funhouse tent. There was a horse ride, though no horses were out now and next to this were about a dozen small tents for games, their large window flaps closed right now. There were six or seven small rides and then the big carousel. She worked her way closer to the carousel trying to get a good look at it. She could just make out a shadowy figure working on something inside near the center but she had a clear view of the horses on the outside row. They were magnificent carvings, more lifelike than she had ever seen before. The one closest to her was obviously the lead horse. The carving was so good that she felt that it could walk right off the carousel any time it wanted. Oddly enough she could see that this one had been carved as a male. Unusual for carousel horses, her friend had told her that carvers never "sexed" their creations. But this one would have made any filly happy she thought to herself. "You like?" came a voice from behind her and she almost jumped out of her boots. She turned quickly to face the stranger. He was tall and powerfully built and she felt a quick stab of desire flash through her. "Ahhhh, yes. The horses are stunning; I have never seen anything like them on other carousels." "Yes, this one is quite unique, you will enjoy much." He handed her a ticket. "You come back tonight. You can ride for free, once." With that he turned and walked back towards the carousel. She stood staring at him for a moment and then at the ticket in her hand. It was a large ticket, bright orange with black letters and a picture of a scarecrow with a leering pumpkin head printed on it. Professor Black's Traveling Show, it read, One Free Ride. "Well I guess I will just have to come back tonight." Ingrid thought to herself. She walked slowly back to the car casting glimpses over her shoulder hoping to see the tall man again, but he had disappeared inside the carousel. She opened her car and drove back to the cottage. As she drove she realized her fingers were tingling and the desire to paint was becoming overpowering. She parked outside and quickly brought her groceries in, leaving them on the counter. She made a quick lunch and ate while she put them away. She grabbed her paints and was going to open the door when she stopped dead in her tracks. No, she would paint in the living room tonight. She turned and setup in the middle of the room. Her mind was blank but her hand made a quick sketch across the canvas, filling it with long strokes of her blue pencil. The sketch finished she began to paint, fast and furious filled with a frantic need to fill the canvas. She painted, without rest, at a frightening pace till the painting was finished. Only with the last stroke of the brush did she even realize what she had been painting. She took a step back from the canvas and stumbled against the couch, sitting down hard. She looked up from the couch and took a good look at what she had created. It was a fantastic piece easily the best she had done. She knew the subject, the lead horse from the carousel but, now in the hills of Maine on a bright autumn day, a living, breathing version of the carousel horse. He stared out at Ingrid from the canvas with fire in his eyes and she realized that she had painted him mounting a mare, his massive horse cock buried deep in the mare beneath him. She stared at him and realized how aroused she was, her nipples were hard and aching and she could feel the dampness of desire soaking her thong. Ingrid stared at the painting longing filling her and her hands started to move up and down her body, pinching her nipples through the silk of her blouse. As she stared at the painting she could swear that the horses were moving. She was no longer in control as her hands moved over her body, pinching, stroking and caressing. Soon her blouse was thrown across the room her hands on her breasts squeezing and milking them feeling electric thrills running from the tips of her hard throbbing nipples to a place deep inside her pussy. The stallion in the painting filled her thoughts, stoking her desire, she needed that big cock inside her, filling her. She hiked her skirt up and slowly rubbed her pussy through her thong. One hand moved back to her breast and the other slipped under her thong her fingers running over and through her wet pussy. On the canvas the stallion moved, thrusting his cock in and out of the mare beneath him. Ingrid stroked her pussy in time to his lunging thrusts into the mare, teasing her aching clit and slipping two fingers deep inside. Her fingers moved in and out of her pussy fast and hard, flicking her clit with her thumb. Ingrid could feel her muscles tense, growing hard her pussy thrusting against her hand as she finger fucked her self. Her body went rigid and her mind exploded with bright light as her orgasm surged through her. She stroked her fingers in and out of her pussy, right through her orgasm and came again as she stared into the eyes of the stallion watching as he shot his seed into the mare. She collapsed back on to the couch, and shook her head, unsure of what had just happened. She examined the painting closely but the horses were no longer moving. She must have been delirious from her frenzied painting. Her desire was unquenched though and it mingled with a desire to return to the carnival. It was already dark outside and she had no idea how long she had been standing at her easel. She retrieved her blouse and put on a new thong, made something quick to fill her stomach, grabbed her jacket and keys and headed to the car. She zoomed down the winding drive and it didn't take long for the town to fill the headlights. She could see that the carnival was open its lights giving off an eerie orange glow, a crowd of people wandered around inside. She parked and made her way through the crowd into the carnival. As she entered she saw that the globe on top of each light pole was cast in orange glass as a leering pumpkin head and each one seemed to be different. She saw the carousel man at the front of the line taking the people's tickets. Slowly the line moved forward, it seemed to be taking forever. At last she came to the front of the line, he looked up as she handed him her ticket. "Ah, you are here. Good." He said taking her ticket. "I have special horse for you to ride." He closed the gate and led her to the carousel. "Tonight you ride Sampson. You only one get to ride him tonight." He helped her on to the lead carousel horse. He grinned at her. "You enjoy this ride." He turned and went back to the gate to finish taking tickets. She looked more closely at Sampson now. She was amazed. He was definitely made of wood, yet he looked so lifelike. It almost seemed that he was moving beneath her and that his skin was warm against her hands. The ride started and slowly the carousel picked up speed. She moved up and down on the horse and visions of her painting of Sampson filled her mind. She could feel herself again growing wet with desire, her nipples growing hard and long. She pulled her jacket closed to hide her excitement. She ground her pussy down hard on the wooden saddle as Sampson came to the bottom and started up again. Up and down round and round each circuit making her more and more excited. She could feel her thighs gripping the horse even harder as her pussy grew wet and hot. She thought she would cum right there on the horse, but the carousel came to a halt before she could. She dismounted quickly from Sampson and could swear she saw a gleam in his eye. The stranger was at her side again. "I see you like ride. You come back when we close I let you ride again." She could only nod yes. Her voice was trapped in her throat. She wandered aimlessly through the crowd and the carnival. Nothing attracted her; she found her feet continually turning back towards the carousel. She had to almost fight with herself to stay away. Her mind was filled with the thought of Sampson and the mare in her painting. She wanted to be that mare to be taken by the big stallion. Without realizing it she did find herself at the carousel just as everything was closing. She could see the carousel man folding down the big sidewalls the would soon conceal the carousel form view. Again he appeared at her side. "Come with me. You get one last ride tonight." She saw that all the walls were up now closing off the carousel. He led her through a door in one panel and over to Sampson again. "Stay here, a moment." He left her side and she could see him operating some of the controls. The platform began to move again Sampson and the other horses beginning their up and down motions as the platform turned. He was at her side again. "You will like this ride even better." Without another word he reached for her and she melted into his arms, her body filled with desire. Slowly he undressed her kissing her lips, her neck, and her breasts as each came into view. Then she was naked before him, her nipples hard and throbbing aching to be touched and sucked. Her pussy hot and wet, she wanted him, want him to take her and fill her with his cock. He stood back and slowly shed his clothing. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch him but something stopped her, kept her standing right where she was. Her eyes filled with lust as his muscular body was revealed and she gasped when he finally removed his pants. His cock was large and thick, already hard, ready to thrust deep into her pussy. Still she could not move, nor could she take her eyes off of him. He turned and climbed up on to Sampson's saddle. He beckoned to her and finally she could move. He held out his hand and she took it as she climbed up, using his powerful arm to help her. He motioned for her to sit in front of him. She held on to the pole as she threw her leg over Sampson. She felt his hands on her hips, slowly pulling her down. Down till she could just fill the head of his cock pushing at the entrance to her pussy. She moaned and he pulled her down hard. Impaling her on his cock. Thrusting deep inside her filling her. She moaned loud, gripped the pole and started sliding up and down his cock. She could feel his cock pulse and flex inside her, meeting her, thrusting deep inside. Then his hands where on her breasts, pulling them, pinching them, milking them. She cried out in sheer pleasure as fire raced from her nipples to her pussy. Tingling up and down her spine, she fucked down harder, taking him inside her. She could feel him thrusting up hard to meet her. He kissed the back of her neck and she exploded in a massive orgasm, clenching her pussy down hard on his cock. But he didn't cum, he continued to fuck her, fuck right through her orgasm and she moaned loud and long. She paused for a moment and squeezed feeling the blood pumping in his shaft. She redoubled her efforts fucking him hard, moving up and down on his shaft desperate now to feel his cum spurting into her. Nothing would satisfy her till he filled her with his cum. He seemed to fuck her for hours and his cock became her world, and she twisted and thrust herself upon it, not caring if everyone in the carnival heard her. Now finally she could feel him tense, could feel his need to fill her. She grinned and moved faster, harder now, thrusting up and down his rigid shaft. He groaned and she felt his cock flex inside her, buck and jerk spewing his cum into her pussy. She came again as his cum splashed into her pussy. Bucking and heavy on top of him, squeezing all his cum from him even as her own orgasm burst through her like lightning. She collapsed back against him, his cock still trapped in her pussy. She looked down and could see his cum oozing out, spilling on to the saddle. He lifted her off his cock and down to the ground. She looked up to him, lust still in her eyes. He climbed off of Sampson and hugged her tight to him. She started to run her hands over his body, but he gripped her small hands in his large hands. "No, you come back tomorrow night. That is special night, only invited guests are allowed. Take this and wear it and the man at gate let you in tomorrow night." She took it in her hand, a small copper medallion with an engraving of a horse on it. A leather thong went through the small hole drilled in it so she could hang it around her neck. She put it on, felt it bounce against her skin just between her breasts. "Now you get dressed, you must go now." She did as she was told and before she knew it found herself outside her car, wondering how she had gotten there. She got in and slowly drove back to the cottage wondering if it had been some crazy dream. But then she fingered the medallion hanging between her breasts and knew that it had not been a dream. She went inside and cleaned up the mess that she had left in her hurry to leave. With the kitchen clean she was brave enough to go into the living room where the painting was still standing on her easel. Carousel Horses There stood her black stallion staring out from the painting at her even has he mounted the chestnut mare. She could feel the beat of her heart quicken and desire beginning anew. This time she seemed to be able to control her self. She took the painting down and rested it against the fireplace. "Not sure I'm even going to want to sell that one," she thought. She stood gazing at it for some time. She shook her head breaking the spell and went into one of the bedrooms and collapsed. The long day finally catching up with her and as she slept her dreams were filled with carousels and horses and she woke panting and aroused again. She resisted her desire to cum even as she remembered fleeting images from her dreams. Instead she went to the shower and let the water pour over her for a long time. She slipped into jeans and a flannel shirt and wandered into the kitchen for some breakfast. She noticed that the painting was sitting on the easel again. "Now that's odd, I wonder when I did that," she thought to her self. She didn't give it a second thought and fixed herself some breakfast. Bacon and eggs had sounded good when she got up but now she contented herself with a large bowl of oatmeal instead. She put the bowl in the sink and went back into the living room. She could feel her fingers tingling again a sure sign that she wanted to paint. She removed the stallion from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas. As she stared at the canvas she could feel the medallion becoming warm between her breasts she reached up and rubbed it with one hand as she picked up her pencil with the other. Without thinking her hand began to sketch again and then to paint. Not as rapid as the day before more deliberate and controlled this time. It was Sampson again but the no longer in the mountains of the first painting but on the carousel. Once more he was mounting a mare, a white mare with a yellow mane and tail, right on the carousel. She put the brush down and examined the painting. It was fantastic. The horses seemed so lifelike they almost seemed to move. As she looked at the painting she could feel the medallion growing warmer between her breasts. Its heat seemed to infuse her and she saw Sampson's head turn and his eyes meet hers. She stared deep into his brown eyes as her nimble fingers unbuttoned the flannel shirt letting it hang open, exposing one breast, her hand brushing the sensitive nipple even as she watched Sampson begin thrusting his massive cock in and out of the white mare beneath him. Ingrid's other hand slid down the front of her jeans and she began to rub her self through the denim. A fire seemed to blaze in Sampson's eyes and the medallion grew warmer against her skin. She unzipped her jeans and slid out of them as she watched her stallion take the white mare. She sat down on the couch and spread her legs wide letting her fingers brush over her pussy, feeling the fire build inside her. Her body began to twist and turn, one hand caressing her breasts, pinching her aching nipples, pulling them, twisting them with her fingers. She slid a finger into her wet slit watching every lunge of Sampson's cock into the mare. Her fingers moved faster, flicking across her clit then she slipped one into her pussy and followed it with another. In and out she thrust her fingers, faster and harder her palm rubbing hard across her clit, sending fires of delight up and down her spine. She watched Sampson fuck the mare, taking her without mercy. Ingrid was close her body was on fire her muscles tensing like steel rods. Then she saw Sampson's balls twitch, knew the he was shooting his seed deep into the mare. Ingrid's body rocked with a powerful orgasm at the thought of Sampson's cum flooding into her pussy. Her hand slowed, gently rubbing herself, coming down off the emotional high. As her hand slowed so did the movement of the horses and when she stopped the horses were, once again, just a painting. But the medallion still glowed warm against her breasts. She knew, somehow, that it was not time to go. She went into the kitchen still aware of the warm medallion and fixed her self something to eat. Again she had missed a meal. When she was done she headed to the shower and stood for a long time beneath the hot water. Getting out she dried her self and began to dress. At first she pulled out red dress but then changed her mind. Out came her white skirt and blouse and underneath a white thong and demi-bra. She started to comb out her honey blonde hair and it felt longer, much longer than it had this morning. She realized with a shock that it was almost down to her waist. She had wanted to wear it piled high on her head, but it was to long for that now. Instead she drew it into a long ponytail. Now the medallion was growing warmer again as if calling her to the carnival. She grabbed her white jacket and headed out the door. This time the drive seemed to take forever. As she drove into town she started, the road was filled with trick-or- treaters. It was Halloween and she had completely forgotten. But now the call of the medallion was fierce so hot it was almost burning her skin. She parked and made her way through to the booth. Not many had been invited for this special night. Only a dozen or so were waiting with her at the entrance. Just as she arrived at the gate, a little man a in a tall black hat stepped out. "Welcome special guests, welcome to this most special night at Professor Black's Traveling Show. I'm sure you are all eagerly anticipating you evening, so I shall not delay the festivities. Please, have your medallions on and Welcome, Welcome All!" with that he flung open the gate for the guests to enter. As they entered Ingrid noticed that he carefully looked at each of them. She opened another button of her blouse so he could clearly see the medallion nestled against her breasts. He gave her a big smile at the sight and waved her in as she smiled back. Now she was anxious, she could see that the big sidewalls on the carousel were closed. She also noticed that not one of the other guests was headed to the carousel they were all going to the funhouse or the sideshow. There was no one to be seen at the carousel so she walked over to the door. Her heart was beating fiercely and her anticipation was growing as she knocked on the door. She could hear footsteps approaching and slowly the door opened. Inside the carousel was already moving, slowly turning on its endless journey, the horses moving up and down never quite reaching their destination. Tonight the bright lights were not on. Only the orange lights coming from the strange glass orange globes. She stepped up on to the platform and the carousel man took her by the hand. "This way Ingrid, we have been waiting for you." She melted at his touch, meekly following him as he led her between the rows of horses. This time as she walked between the rows she could see that all the other horses were female, Sampson was the only male, and tonight they all seemed to be moving legs pawing the air, tails twitching almost struggling against the poles that held them to the carousel. She grew steadily more aroused as they neared Sampson's position. Then they stood before Sampson. She could see the gleam in the horses' eye could see him bend his neck even as the carousel man bent to kiss her. His lips were like fire and kissed him back hungrily wrapping her arms around him even as he embraced her. His lips moved across her cheek to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. Ingrid moaned. His hands moved all over her body, gliding down her back, brushing softly across her ass, then up her sides, brushing against her breasts. With one deft movement her jacket was off and falling to the floor. His hands were running through her long air, gently pulling it. She pressed herself harder against him, feeling his cock growing long in his pants. Her hands moved unbuttoning his shirt and she bent her head to kiss his chest as she hurriedly pulled it off of him. His lips moved back to hers and his tongue slipped between her lips, moving deep into her mouth wrapping itself around her tongue. His hands moved to her breasts, brushing across them through her blouse. His fingers slowly unbuttoned it revealing her breasts and his mouth moved down, kissing the gentle swell, running over her hard nipples as they peeked out over her bra. His tongue swirled around each throbbing nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth. Ingrid groaned. "Yes, yesssssssssssssss, suck them hard, they ache for your mouth." He did not reply simply sucked harder on her breasts, pinching and tweaking one while he sucked on the other. She could feel the medallion hot against her skin again, exciting her further. She writhed against him and his hands slid under her skirt cupping her ass in his big hands, holding her tight against him. She ground her pelvis against him feeling his cock hard and wanting through his pants. Her hands slid down his naked chest working between their struggling bodies to unzip his pants. She tugged them down, just enough to see his cock, pointing straight up rigid and throbbing with the beat of his heart. His hands pulled at her thong, sliding it down, letting it drop to the platform. His kissed her again his hands on her breasts, squeezing them, milking them, sparks of fire leaping between her hard nipples and that spot deep inside her pussy. She took his cock in her hand, slowly stroking the hard thick length, eager to feel it moving inside her. He pulled her down to the platform. "On your knees Ingrid. I will take you like a mare tonight." "Oh yessssssssssss, take me. Take me hard fill me with your cum." She eagerly got on all fours, pointing her ass into the air, gently swaying it back and forth enticing him to enter her to fill her with his cock. She heard his pants hit the platform and she trembled in anticipation as his hands held her hips. She thrust back as she felt his cock brushing across her ass sliding slowly up and down the valley of her ass. He ran his cock between her legs, rubbing it up and down her wet slit. She thrust back again. "NO, in meeeeeeeeeee. Fuck meeeeeeeeeee." She cried. This time he obliged. For a moment she felt the head hard and throbbing at the entrance to her pussy, then he lunged forward driving himself deep inside her. Filling her tight pussy with his rigid shaft. "Aieeeeeeeeeeeee" she cried trying to struggle away from the invader. He held her tight, pulled back and thrust again and again. Driving his cock in and out of her pussy. She cried in delight, squeezing her pussy down on the cock buried inside her. His hands moved to her breasts, pinching her nipples as he fucked his cock into her. "Ohhhhhhhhh godddd, yes fuck me, fuck me hard." In and out his shaft moved. Her nipples were on fire as his hands held her. Her pussy was completely filled, the hard cock pumping in and out of her. She thrust back meeting him thrust for thrust now. Her body was getting tense her muscles beginning to stiffen, her orgasm already fast approaching and still his cock plundered the depths of her pussy. But she could feel him tensing too she squeezed her pussy down hard on his cock and thrust back at him felling his balls slap against her ass. His fingers tweaked and pinched her nipples making fire run down her spine to the spot where his cock hit the back of her pussy. His hands moved back to her hips, holding her tighter and he fucked her hard and fast now. She cried out and thrust back at him wanting more and more of his hard cock. As she did she could feel the medallion swinging between her breasts could feels its heat beginning to flow into her, driving her passion higher and higher. She cried with delight as his cock slammed into her over and over. She felt his thighs tense against, could feel him lose all control as his cock plundered her depths. The he was there, his cock bucked and flexed inside her as he thrust it deep, his cum shooting into her, splashing against the walls of her pussy. The feel of his cum sent her over the edge, her mind exploded in white light as her body bucked and writhed on his cock as her orgasm gripped her like a fist. He continued to fuck into her, and the aftershocks of her orgasm squeezed every drop of cum from his cock. She was hot now through, the heat from the medallion was flowing through her entire body. She felt so strange. She wanted to cry out and no sound came. She looked down at her hands, her fingers were closing together and she tried to cry out again even as her fingers merged and her arms seemed to lengthen. She raised her head and got a glimpse of herself in the reflection from one of the mirrors on the center panels of the carousel. She stopped struggling, stunned for the moment as she watched her body transform from her own human body to that of a horse. Not just any horse either, but the white mare from her painting. She tried to speak to cry out for help but only a loud whinnying came from her mouth. She began to panic rearing up on her rear legs, pawing at the platform with her front legs, desperate to get away. She felt a pair of large firm hands on her neck, recognized them even before she turned her head to see. The carousel man stood there still naked stroking her, whispering to her, calming her. She began to relax the urge to bolt and run softening. "Good girl, Ingrid, yes good girl. He will enjoy you much tonight." She startled a loud snort coming through her nose. What was he saying, who would enjoy her tonight? She looked around and panicked again. She realized the every horse on the platform was alive, trapped in place by the golden poles of the carousel that speared them through their backs. They were all speaking in their own way, and she tried desperately to understand them to find out what was going on. Then from behind her came a loud snort. She craned her neck around and there he stood, Sampson. He was not bound like the others he was free to move and he was coming to take her. Her eyes meet his and she melted, bowing to the power of the stallion. She could feel his desire for her and she could feel a need rising in her, a need to quench his fire to accept his complete dominance over her as one of his mares. She whinnied a greeting and he answered. He would take her now. She could still feel the hands of the carousel man on her neck, rubbing her gently could still feel the medallion growing warm against her skin as she became more aroused eager to accept her stallion. He came nearer sniffing the air, sniffing her. She twitched her tail to one side, showing him that she was ready. She turned her head to watch him, slowly approach her. He stopped directly behind her. She waited eagerly now needing him. He reared up and came forward landing heavy on her back, his front legs on either side of her. She tried to stay still could feel his massive horse cock poking at her searching. She shifted slightly and was rewarded with the feel of the head at her entrance. Sampson paused for a moment only. Then thrust him self forward, spearing her with his massive horse cock. She panicked at the feel of the large cock piercing her, but could not move as his weight settled on her. He thrust again and she whinnied at the feel, marveling at the texture of this strange cock inside her. Over and over he thrust himself, she had not choice but to take it to take it as deep as Sampson could slam into her. The sensation was so strange and new and she steadied herself to take him as deep as she could. It felt marvelous to have the massive cock racing into her like a freight train, so strange to be completely taken at the mercy of the huge stallion. Sampson was thrusting harder now faster, and she whinnied again. Planted her front feet, feeling him drive into her over and over again. She could feel it building deep inside her, even as she could feel Sampson's balls slapping against her stiffen. Sampson snorted loud and long and she could feel the huge cock flex inside her, could feel his cum filling her and as it did her own horse body exploded with him. She whinnied loud and long as lighting played up and down her spine. She relaxed as she felt Sampson dismount from her pulling that delicious shaft from inside her. She became aware of how hot the medallion was now, and she jerked her head around. As she did she felt the leather thong snap, tangled in the carousel man's fingers. He cried out and she realized that he had let go of her. She saw that one of the panels had not been fastened down and as they past it she jumped from the platform, knocking the panel aside and ran, faster than she ever had before. "Ingrid!!!!!!! Come back, Ingrid." She paid the voice no mind. She had seen those other mares trapped, maybe forever on the carousel. Realizing what her fate would be if she stayed, so she ran into the night. Behind her she could hear faint screams coming from the other tents, in front of her the closed gate and the little man in the hat. He stood directly in front of the gate, knowing that she would have to stop. But she didn't, she gathered her powerful legs underneath her and leaped. Cleared the little man and the gate and landed hard on the ground on the other side. She could hear the shouts from the carnival folk, gathered her legs again and sped off into the darkness. She ran blindly for a time before coming to a stop. She stamped her hooves, realizing how sore and tender they were. She listened for a bit her ears flicking back and forth. They didn't seem to be following her. With no place else to go she headed back to the cottage. But when she got there she had no way to get in. She wandered around the outside of the cottage trying to think of what she could do. She realized that there was an old carriage house and stable in the back. She was just able to nose the door open and discovered that one of the stalls was filled with hay. She remembered then that Angie kept a horse up here during the summer. She realized that she was totally exhausted and even the old hay looked good. She worked her way down, tucked her legs up under her and bent her head down and slowly drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were strange and twisted and she woke cold and hungry. She yawned and moved to cover her mouth and realized that it was a hand and not a hoof that she used. She sat up quick, her hair was still quite long but the rest of her was back to normal. She rushed naked to the house and into the shower. Turning it on and letting the hot water run over her for a long time. She dried and dressed and went into the living room hoping that it had just been a dream. But she knew in her heart that it had not been. Her first painting still stood on the fireplace where she had moved it. The carousel piece was till on the easel. Ingrid went around to take another look at it in the light of day. She gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. Hanging from the easel was the medallion she had worn the night before. It looked like she had a little souvenir of her Halloween adventure. Carousel She reached to her middle, and found the ends of the t-shirt she wore, and in one fell move swept it off and over her head, onto the floor. Her breasts were magnificent, as full as their promise. I bent to them mouthing them through the demi-cup bra. Her nipples reached up to me, looking for some kind of surcease from this need, this unending desire. She pulled me to her again, kissing me fully. By now I realized she knew no other way. Kissing this lady was more profound than being married to anyone else. Her tongue darted around the inside of my mouth. I clashed with her, swordplay of the most intimate kind. ‘How did I ever miss THIS?’ I thought. I chased her tongue into her mouth, and she trapped me, sucking on my tongue, managing to smile and even laugh at the same time. Her legs around me pulled her to me, and her up to me, more insistently. I noticed. I guessed at the relative positions, and tried to place my dick right in the cleft between her legs, wanting to rub on her clit the way I hoped would feel the best. Everything this lady had done with/to/for me since the moment we had met had been first class, lady-like. I wanted to return the favor. I got the flat part of my undershaft between her lips, through her panties, and began to rub slowly, back and forth, listening for any effect I had to come out her mouth. It occurred to me I didn’t know for sure how to stop this to get to the next step. I loved kissing her too much to just stop. Then I realized that we had managed so far, so quit worrying abou tit. I was rewarded by a massive sigh, that descended to a near-grunt as I kept grinding between her legs. My face hovered over hers now. She had finally gotten so much input she had overloaded, and had to stop kissing for a second. I concentrated on her face, and keeping the rhythm going between her legs. Already I knew that to stop at the wrong time with this lady would be cause for retaliation. I didn’t want that. She reached for my mouth with hers. I put my hand behind her head, and helped her up. Our mouths ground together, her hips pushed against me, until finally a cry came from her, full throated, an ‘UH!’ that told me I had waited long enough. She was happy, for the moment. I kissed her mouth gently, again, and slid back from this body that had changed my world. I felt my way backwards, until I was sliding off the bed, carefully. I slipped to the floor, caught myself, and knelt by the bed, her legs still on either side of me. I reached to the tops of her panties. For a moment, I thought she was not going to let me take them off, but then I realized she was distracted, that the feelings she was undergoing were overwhelming her. She put her legs on either side of my head, and pushed up, her hips coming off the bed. I pulled her panties off, never taking my eyes off hers. She reached for a pillow, and stuffed it beneath her head, watching me approach her middle. Her legs spread in anticipation. Her pussy was wet, gleaming in the near-light, her red curls plastered against her skin. I saw a mole just to the left of center, about 2 inches up from the top of her cleft. She was shaven, no doubt to accommodate a bathing suit. If there was a heaven, I would get to see her in it sometime. If? I was about 3 inches from heaven. My chest hit the edge of the bed, I could not get closer without changing where we were. I reached for her hands, she grappled with me, tugging herself closer to the edge of the bed. Her good strong legs pulled against my back to move her closer to where we both wanted her. Finally, I could reach her with my mouth. I nosed into her lips. She was wet, no unexpectedly, but the first thing I noted was there was no scent. That was new. From somewhere a small pang of disappointment, but it quickly disappeared. I let go her hands, and placed my palms against the backs of her thighs. She let me push her legs higher and higher until they were nearly over her head. This had the effect of squeezing her pussy lips tighter together, but she fixed that by spreading her thighs apart. I buried my head between her legs. I sucked her clit into my mouth. ‘Treasure.’ Pearls, rubies, diamonds. These had all been used for centuries as metaphor for this spot. I had begun to treasure it for simpler reasons – it was attached to this fiery woman. Her lips parted, and I got this gem into my mouth, and bit down gently. She spoke again, perhaps the 20th word she had ever spoken to me, “Bite…” I heard her, and obeyed. I bit down on her clit, with my teeth couched in my lips. “BITE,” she commanded. I let my lips go, bare teeth against her flesh. I bit down harder, and sucked harder on her joy spot. I reached around her legs to her tits, tweaking her nipples. I was rewarded by another intake of breath, an accolade I would not have traded for a medal. “Bite!” O boy. I bit as hard as I dared. Again, air rushed into and out of her lungs. I munched, chomped sideways, careful. No matter how good it felt, it was not going to do either of us any good if this trip ended in the emergency room. I had her trapped in my teeth, and tried to make her forget about biting by rubbing her clit as hard as I could with my tongue. Another gasp. Like a bar added to a hard-earned medal. I flattened my tongue against her clit, and pushed hard as I could. I felt her pubic bone only millimeters away. I trapped her flesh against it, and rubbed it as hard as I could. She had been holding her legs with her hands. Finally she reached to me, grabbed my upper arms, and pulled herself as tightly against me as she could. A long low moan escaped her. This would have been the place for my name, if she had it. Her legs tightened against my head. If possible, she got even wetter. Fluid gushed from her. Odorless, tasteless, slick as black ice. I held on until I felt her relax a bit. I slid up onto the bed next to her. “That was wonderful,” I whispered, close to her ear. Her eyes still closed, she smiled. “Yes.” That was all she said. I risked spoiling a moment, but I wanted to be closer to her. I wormed my arm beneath her, pulled her to me, resting her head on my chest. She snuggled to me, place her arm on my chest, and in a few moments was breathing regularly. I looked down at this treasure. She was not the first woman to visit here, but she was undoubtedly the MOST woman ever. I kissed the top of her head, more to remind me how it felt than anything else, her lips on mine. It didn’t disturb her. I lay back, head on the pillow. My thoughts whirled a mile a minute. ‘How do I keep this?’ ‘Who is she?’ ‘I never thought it could be like this unless you loved her.’ Well? I was willing. Apparently, I slept some. I woke to the sensation of someone holding me, like anyone would like to be held. She had her hand around my rapidly hardening dick. I don’t know how long it had been since I winked out, but I would figure it out later. She was an expert at this. She gently tugged and wrapped and felt, and finally raised up on one arm, and moved to it, taking it into her mouth gently. I thought about reciprocating and asking her to bite, but I was afraid she would show me just how much she wanted, and I wanted to survive the moment. We would talk about it later. She played, teased, sucked at the head, near-deep-throated me, put me near a different heaven, but one still attached to her and her only. This was all new to me. She moved to a kneeling position, bent over me. Her short hair made it unnecessary to keep it from her eyes. I could see them, open and questioning. She would look up at me now and then. Sometimes she would catch me looking back, sometimes my head would be thrown back, unable to take another second of the intense feelings she was passing out. I knew that unlike her, I would not be able to come this way. I wanted her, in the traditional, everyday, old-fashioned way, that says to a woman: you are mine, and you better like it. Another new feeling. I never wanted to possess anyone. But this woman I had to have. I pulled her to me, for another mind-numbing kiss. No, not mind-numbing. Life-affirming. THIS is life. THIS is important. THIS is not transitory. Somehow we managed to move together, in that way that old lovers have of doing things with an economy of motion, until she was under me, legs spread, breasts thrust up, seeking cover. I couldn’t remember when her bra had come off. Or my shorts. I fell onto her, into a kiss that would last. Her legs pushed this way and that until she was satisfied with her positioning. I held off as long as I could. She noticed, and looked up at me with a pout on that lovely face. It was no longer sad, or pensive, or lonely. It was mine. She was completely engrossed in this, in me! I moved against her. I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her to me. I pushed forward until my dick was against the entrance to her pussy. I held back again to see if she would play or be pissed. She looked up at me, and with her best ‘daddys-little-girl’ moue, stuck out her lower lip, and wriggled her hips against me, trying to trap me. I could not help it, I laughed out loud, and was joined by this magical sound: her laughing with me. I trapped her pubis against the bed with my weight, and moved to make her mine. I dipped the head of my dick lower, until it rubbed against her ass, and pushed gently, moving it up until it slipped into her pussy. Now it was my turn to gasp. O my. Things had definitely changed. No longer was pussy just pussy. The promise of that first kiss from the door to the bed had been fulfilled. We were one. I moved into her, slowly. As slowly as I could for something that felt this good. I thrust into her until I had reached the limit. Just about the last thing on earth I wanted was to come back out. But that was what nature wanted, and right now I was more a creature than a thinking person. I eased out, slowly, and plunged in again. Her breasts against my chest were yielding yet firm. Her mouth against mine made any other thoughts impossible. Overload. I began to move, in and out. Again she rewarded me with kisses and sounds of delight. Good. I wanted this creature to be happy. If I had to stand on my head in a vat of something vile I would do it, just for her. But this was certainly not that. This was heaven. She met my thrusts. She kissed me, deeper, more urgently. There were words that would have been appropriate here, but we had not known each other long enough or well enough to utter them. I love you. I need you. I want you. These were the words that happened in my head, but could not come out my mouth. Not yet. Pregnancy? Apparently I trusted her. STDs? Apparently she trusted me. That was enough for now. I continued in and out. From time to time we broke the eternal kiss to better see each others’ face. I rested my head against the pillow, kissing her from the side, her head turned to meet my lips. So it was I felt her break our union, the one between our mouths, anyway. Her head went back on the pillow, her hips arched up, grasping, demanding. Air rushed into her lungs, and a cry began deep in her throat. Though the scene was not for my benefit, it had the effect of pushing me over the edge. I felt the tickle begin well down in my body, the one that would culminate in the end of this episode. For nearly a millisecond I regretted that, and then went on. She continued coming, her pussy sucking at my dick, making me regret each time I had to pull it out, even at this much faster rate, relenting only when she was full again, even if only for a moment. She stilled for a moment, and looked at me. I began to come, flooding her insides. I pushed into her, and held still, each moment a slice of heaven. She reached to kiss me, and I groped against her face, finding her mouth with my own. When the end came, we were still kissing, just as we had been when it all began. Words, my stock-in-trade, failed me. She looked at me. I disengaged slightly from her. I pushed myself away, up, reluctantly. Her legs disentangled from mine. I moved next to her, and lay down, still breathing heavily. “You okay?” she asked. “More than,” I said, briefly, needing the air suddenly. She moved against me again, her lovely head on my chest. We clasped hands. That seemed to say it all. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have to be home any certain time?” I could feel her smile. “No.” “Good.” I meant it. This woman might be married to someone else, but unless she could convince me that what had just happened between us was ordinary and everyday, mundane, I intended to use every second of my life, every ounce of energy I had, all the time I had left, to give her the chance to be happy. I didn’t know if she was happy at home. I didn’t know if happiness was her usual state of mind. I didn’t know for sure that she had the capacity for happiness. All I knew was that if I had to spend all my life repaying her for what just happened, then I would. Something I did know, without thinking – she did not do this. She did not pick up strangers several levels below her social or economic class, take them home and give them a first class screwing. Something she had seen in me. I would find out what it was, refine it, make it grow, until she could not be without me anymore than I could be without her. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked. “Only if you can get it without moving,” she said. I stayed put. “Can we talk? Or do you want to sleep? Or breathe? Or.. what?” I felt her smile in the dark again. “We can talk, but later, okay?” When I woke, there was light in the east window. Not full light, but that rosy dawn that comes on great mornings. It took about three seconds for all of it to come flooding back. I jumped out of the bed, without touching it, I think. I raced to the living room. I stopped. I saw her legs sticking out beyond the couch. She was slumped down, reading. She had found a pair of boxer shorts of mine, and an old top. If I had seen her clothes I would not have been so worried it was all a dream. ‘What the hell does your old man do that you can be out all night?’ I wondered. She had heard my flash jump to the door, and turned her head. For the first time around her, I felt naked. I was naked. I leaned against the wall, as nonchalant as I could, folded my arms. “Morning.” “Hi,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing these clothes.” “They never looked better,” I said. Geez. Cary Grant you ain’t. She smiled. “Debbi?” Arched eyebrows in response. “Uh, I have to ask, before anything else…” She smiled. “Last night it was you had to know my name before anything else. Is this that same anything else? Or another one?” That stopped me a second. “While I am ready to resume last night anytime, up to and including the last day on earth, there are some things I have to know, okay?” She looked at me, a serious light in those eyes. “Ok. But you have to get dressed. Even I can’t have a serious conversation with a naked man.” Blushing is not something that looks good on a 50 year old naked guy. I turned to the bedroom and found casual, quick. Shorts and a t-shirt, all black. I returned to the living room, and sat on the chair across from the couch. She sat up, took her legs off the coffee table. She leaned her elbows on her knees, and said, “Shoot.” Faced with the chance to talk seriously with this woman, I hesitated. ‘Straight ahead, guy. There is no other way with this woman.’ “Okay,” I started. I was determined not to let her breasts distract me. Or those legs. “I have to know that what happened last night was… if it was… what happened was…” She got this impish smile, “If you are asking, yes, it was good for me, too.” I rolled my eyes. She smiled, a real one this time. “Yes, it was good for me, Debbi. But geez, it was different. I’d like to know it was something special for you, too.” My eyes were pleading I know, but at that moment, vulnerability with this woman was all I knew. If it had not been special, I didn’t really want to know. Except I did want to know. She looked in my eyes, seeing who knows what. “Yes, Barry, it was special. And no, before you ask, I don’t do this all the time, or any of the time, really.” “I think I already knew that.” It was true. “I’ve made love with lots of women, Debbi, but last night was so special I can’t begin to tell you. I want to know if it’s gonna happen again.” She cocked her head at me, that impish look again, and said, “… and if it’s not?” I could only shake my head, a fate not to be contemplated. “Barry, I would like very much for all of it to happen again.” I tried to conceal the rush of great relief I felt. I wanted this woman, full time if necessary. I managed a “Good.” I wanted to move closer to her, but I wanted to know what was going on, first. “I don’t know how it happened that you came with me, I would like to know. I don’t know anything about you – kids, husband, etc. But I want to.” “You know I like carousels.” She smiled. “And I know you make love as though it was fine art. But I want to know what happened, and what happens now.” “You can’t just enjoy it? What kind of guy are you?” “Guess not.” I shook my head. A penny dropped. “How did you know my name? I am quite sure I did not tell you what it is…” She smiled again, and nodded toward the computer setup on the small desk in the corner. I looked toward it, and saw it was neatened, and looked back at her. She had been reading when I came in. Now I saw what she was reading. I had mixed feelings. But, like any writer, first I wanted to know what she thought. “So, tell me you are a reviewer for the New York Times.” She laughed. “No,” she said, “but I can tell what I read is worth the time.” Okay, I was flattered. Then I was not. “That’s it? Worth the time?” “It’s fiction, Barry,” she pointed out. “Being worth the time it takes to read it is about all fiction can aspire to.” I nodded again. And decided to be flattered again. “Thanks.” “I hate to say this, but I have to go.” Knowing she had been awake long enough to find the bathroom, I knew she must mean she had to go, home. “Okay, sure.” I moved to the open door to the bedroom. And hesitated. “You will be back, though. Right?” “Yes, I will.” “Okay.” I dressed quickly. She moved in at some point, and put on her coveralls again. She had to move bedclothes to find her sandals. I felt this inane need to fill the quiet. “It was your sandals that attracted me,” I said. Stupid as it sounds. “Oh?” she twinkled as she sat on the edge of the bed to put them on. “Yeah,” I said, “I wanted them off you, and wanted to see what they looked like on the floor beside my bed.” Her twinkle turned to a smile. “So, what do you think, now that you have seen them there?” I said, “I want them there again, as soon as can be.” She nodded as she closed the last clasp. “OK.” We trooped downstairs into the daylight. “The least I could do is buy your breakfast.” She shook her head. “I have to get home.” And then she clenched it – “If I want to be free to come back.” I shut up. Restricting any of her freedom to return to me was unthinkable. “I hate to ask, but when might that be?” I did hate to ask. I sounded like a puppy. “What are you doing next Thursday?” “Working, same as this one,” I said, but relaxed, now. “What time you get off?” She smiled at her double entendre. “What time can you get here?” She smiled, and I said, “11pm.” “This is gonna be hard, Debbi.” “What is?” she matched my serious tone, mocking me. “Letting you go.” She turned in her seat and looked at me. “Barry, remember this: those horses on your carousel come back, right?” I nodded. “I will too. CarousHell Jolene was a cock tease. She loved the feeling of power from getting guys all worked up and sending them home with nothing but a stiff dick and blue balls. Sometimes she'd tease them to the point of bursting with a handjob or her mouth, and then quit. The more they begged, the more she laughed. When the carnival came to town, she saw the opportunity for fresh man meat to tease. It was perfect, because they had to move on in a week or so. The Carousel operator seemed particularly interested in her, she turned on the charm, giving him every signal that said 'come and get it'. He invited her to come back after hours to have a few beers. She showed up about an hour after every one had left. She checked her top, making sure her nipples showed through the thin material. The cut off shirt exposed her flat tanned stomach, and the bottoms of her full natural tits. They jiggled with each deliberately timed step. A short mini skirt rode high up her long legs, giving a peek of butt cheek at the bottom. She wore no panties. Her platform sandals helped to accentuate her walk, hips swaying in unspoken invitation. Her pony tailed hair swung with each step. A cool breeze rose momentarily as she approached the Carousel, causing a small cloud of dust and goosebumps on her skin. For a second, she felt uneasy. She could swear she had heard a high pitched keening sound. It stopped as she reached the darkened ride, and struck her best pose. A second breeze rose, and swirled. The sound seemed louder, to be coming from the ride. A sense of unreality set in, her instinct said to leave. He was nowhere in sight. The breeze tickled between her thighs, the keening sound rose. She was getting the creeps, the carnival was somehow eerie after dark. The horses on the Carousel seemed different, no longer a kiddie ride, oddly erotic. The dim moonlight reflected off them, creating deep shadows that played tricks on her eyes. She suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. A shiver ran through her. She turned to go. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, startling her. She jumped, her boobs moved under the shirt. He leered as they did. She could almost feel the heat of his stare, the sound rose and faded. The Carousel lit up suddenly, in a sequence. First the inner, then the outer, and finally the canopy lights. The horses gleamed invitingly. Every detail stood out. The polished poles glinted, the whole thing seemed to shimmer. It seemed there was a glow coming from some of them, from the eyes. Others seemed to shake almost imperceptibly. He walked to the controls and moved a lever. A series of sounds rose as unseen machinery meshed. The Carousel began to move slowly. It was somehow sensual, she watched as the circular parade rolled past. The music began. It too was different, almost hypnotic. She took a step toward the ride, as if drawn to it. The sound rose again, and then was lost beneath the music. He walked to her, grabbed an arm and waited. As it rolled by again, she noticed an empty space, a pole with no horse on it. It moved past. When it came around again, he quickly stepped on to the ride, pulling her with him. A quick feeling a vertigo took her, she reached out a hand to grab the pole. A moment later, she got her feet under her. She gave him a naughty smile, she had an idea. She stepped around so the pole was at her back. She stuck out her chest, and gave a suggestive thrust to her hips. The burnished metal pressed between her ass cheeks, she gave a little bump and grind. His eyes roamed her body, enjoying her little show. She began to work the pole like a stripper, pressing her mound into it. Her skirt and shirt rode higher. She wrapped a leg around it, looked him in the eyes and licked the pole up and down like she would a cock. She smiled as the familiar hungry look filled his eyes. He reached for her, she stepped away and moved between the next two horses. She stuck her ass out, knowing the skirt would ride up, exposing more of her firm curvy bottom. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she could see a reddish glow from a horse farther back, a black one. As she looked, it was gone. She turned back to the carny worker, her stance indicating she wanted him to help her onto the horse she was rubbing against. He stepped, and in a motion swung her into the saddle. The plaster was cool on her warm slit. She moved her hips with the slow up and down motion of the ride, taking delight in the obvious bulge of carny guy's jeans. The machinery sent a little vibration through the horse. It teased her pussy just enough to notice it. He stepped from the ride, she lost sight of him as she took a turn. As she came back around, she saw him at the controls. In a reflection, she noticed the same reddish glow from behind her. She looked over her shoulder, this time she saw it was definitely coming from the black horse's eyes. She could swear it had moved forward a space. There was a clunk from the machinery. The Carousel lurched, and sped up. The vibrations between her legs increased. A look of surprise crossed her face. It felt good, really good. She smiled, and raised an eyebrow. She swung by the operator again, he was no longer alone. Some others had stepped up to watch her ride. Her hips moved forward, her clit found the horn of the saddle. The vibrations thrummed into it. In spite of herself, she was getting aroused. The red glow seemed brighter, the lights dimmed and rose. The music filled her head, her slit grew wet, the smooth saddle becoming slick. She rode past them again, it seemed the ride was going faster each time. There were more people, smiling and leering. Her skirt pulled up, exposing her bottom and her pussy as she leaned forward to keep from slipping off. Her clit bumped the horn again. The vibrations made her jerk. They knew. She was very uncomfortable to be on display like this, her arousal becoming obvious as the machinery hummed on. She tried to climb off, the ride lurched, pressing her sex into the strong vibrations of the saddle. Her mouth fell to an 'O', she went limp for a moment as a surge of lust built. It felt so good, too good. She was losing control, her hips rocked slowly in time with the rise and fall of the machine. A small groan escaped. She had to lean forward for balance, forcing her button directly on the horn, slipping back in her own wetness, and then forward into the relentless vibrations. Over and over, back and forth, up and down. The red glow was brighter. Through heavy lids, she saw the black was another space closer. It seemed to be staring directly into her wet crotch. The vibrations rose as her horse did. She grabbed the pole tightly, unwillingly pulling herself onto the horn. Her head fell back, her mouth open. Her hips jerked themselves into the pleasure forcing itself between her legs. She felt the unmistakable feelings of a climax rise in her, she couldn't help it. She glanced at the black again, feeling the heat from it's intense stare in her pussy. The music grew louder, she heard the comments of the people gathered as she swung by again. She saw the operator move the lever. The Carousel jerked, and found another gear. It sped up, she grew dizzy. Another look over her shoulder confirmed the black had moved directly behind her. She could feel it's heat. The machine jerked, snapping her head back and then forward. She gripped the pole tighter, her cheek against the now hot metal. Her mouth hung open as the vibrations rose and fell, rose and fell, bringing her closer each time to an orgasm she didn't want to have. She was not going to come in front of these people. Through blurry vision, she saw the worker had stepped back onto the ride. He walked quickly to her. His face had changed to a smiling mask of evil. He yanked hard on her pony tail, forcing her flushed face upward. He looked into her wide terrified eyes, noting with dark glee the combination of lust, fear, and pain. 'Please' she groaned, as the vibrations rose, pushing her closer, and then pulling her away as they fell. 'Please, stop. Stop the ride!' His answer was to rip off her shirt and skirt. She was fully naked and exposed to the ugly crowd watching. She could hear them each time she passed. The vibrations climbed and fell, climbed and fell. The saddle dripped with her own wetness, coating her thighs. He laughed cruelly, and smacked her hard on the ass. She jerked from the pain, grinding her clit into the horn again. Her body shook as she fought hard not to come. She felt him roughly grab an ankle, and bend it up behind her. She tried to pull it back down, but he had hooked one of the sandal straps to something on the horse. She leaned to one side, for balance, glad to be free of the merciless stimulation on her clit. She fought for breath. A moment later, he did the same to her other ankle, yanking her back up so she was dead center on the most intense vibrations. She fought to lift her tortured bud from the oscillating assault, but her captive ankles and wet thighs prevented any escape. Her body twitched as another wave rose, causing her body to shake as she fought against what she no longer had control over. Her face pulled into a mask of defiance as the vibrations peaked, held, and then slowly fell along with the horse. Her body was glazed with sweat, rolling off in drops, and falling to the metal floor. She sucked in small short gasps, between shudders, making sobbing sounds. The cycle fell with the horse. The slower vibrations were as bad as the high, teasing but not pushing. They felt so good. Way too good. Grunts of pleasure interlaced with hard earned gulps of air. The rise began again, she gritted her teeth in anticipation of the climbing blast she had no way to stop, or avoid. Every muscle tensed, she held her breath as it climbed higher, higher, and still higher to the point of pain. Her body quaked as it peaked, too strong for her to come. She fought for more snatches of breath as it fell again. Her voice quavered with mewlings of temporary relief. The low end licked her to an agonizing bliss, she teetered on the brink of release. She knew the next rise was only moments away. It came and passed as did the next, and the one after that, and the one after that. Her body and mind were driven to the extremes of pain and pleasure until she couldn't tell the difference. She sobbed in pain and frustration. There was no way this could get any worse. She was wrong. He pulled her up by her pony tail, and forward. The horn slid easily into her soaked and puffy slit. Her clit now rested squarely on the nubby ridges that made up the horse's mane. The horn had centered on her button, spreading vibrations from the tip. The mane pressed along the entire hood and the swollen shaft beneath. She jerked away from the new sensations, the horn in her pussy prevented her from moving anywhere but forward. The next rise began, her mouth fell open. It climbed, the ridges of the mane raking into her, the horn holding her in place as it pulsed inside her. Her back arched, as it peaked, and then slumped as it fell. The low end throbbed, she along with it. She looked at him with defiance, they still hadn't made her come The next rise began. She braced herself as best she could for the oncoming peak. Another hard splat cut into her, distracting her momentarily from the blast her pussy was getting. She felt herself clench and unclench around the horn. She almost lost it, the ridged mane rubbed her perfectly. She got control at the last possible second. It took everything she had. The cycle fell, the decreasing sensations leaving her clawing at the edge. He smacked her ass again. She grunted, almost losing it. Her pussy spasmed a few times, the nubby mane stroked her hood. Small squeals fell from her open mouth. Another splat yanked her back. His blows came harder and faster as the next climb began. She couldn't keep any focus as his hard slaps seared her cheeks, causing her to jerk into the rise between her quivering thighs. The line between pain and pleasure blurred, and then disappeared as she was forced into the intense thrumming. She began to look forward to the next sting on her ass. The machine spun on. Each rise brought her wide eyed to the edge, each descent was met with a sharp splat of flesh, snapping her back. She was on the verge of losing the battle, one more cycle, one more slap would send her over. She couldn't take any more, her body screamed for release at any cost. And suddenly he was gone. She panted in agony, her pink ass stinging, her hips grinding her sex hard into the machine. She screamed in frustration. She saw him back at the controls as she passed. He jerked the lever. The lights dimmed and rose, they changed. The entire ride was bathed in an eerie glow. Mixed with the music was the sounds of sex all around her. Through hazy vision, she saw the crowd had changed. They were evil creatures with ugly glowing eyes. She could hear their sounds as she passed, faster and faster. The vibrations rose to new heights. Jolene's hips bucked furiously, she was pushed to the brink of sanity. A massive climax built in her. It rose and rose, well beyond the point when she should have come. And still it built, just out of reach. The vibrations peaked, she froze, her face a bright red, the veins on her neck stood out. Every muscle held taut as she held and still held. She took a deep breath, it came back out as a scream as her pussy began to explode. The force of her orgasm rocked her, the machine wouldn't let it stop. She came and came and came. She collapsed on the horse, unable to stop the waves ripping through her. She had fallen into a semi-consious state. Her body hung limp in the saddle, jerking when another climax forced itself through her. Drool ran from her slack mouth, her body drenched in sweat and her own juices. Several times she had come so hard she squirted, finally losing control of her bladder. Through swollen and sweat stung eyes, she saw the other horses. They were fucking. More specifcally, the stallions were fucking the shit out of the females, which were still part human. Their cries of pain and pleasure could be heard over the music. Enormous cocks slammed into tight pussies until the males came, and then moved to another female. The females were helpless to do anything but get fucked and come, and come, and come. Even in the throes of ecstacy their faces were tear stained masks of pain as cocks pounded into them. A sharp bite on the ass snapped Jolene back to reality. She looked back, the black was directly behind her. His cock was huge, dripping. She squeaked in pain and terror. A surge of adrenaline allowed her to yank her feet free. She jerked herself off the horse, landing hard on the floor. The Carousel spun madly. The horse she'd been riding looked sadly at Jolene 'We tried to warn you' Jolene's eyes went wide with terror as the filly changed to a girl, held in place by a pole through her back, her ass upturned. Jolene tried to crawl her way forward, out of the corner of her eye she saw the filly girl had already been mounted. Her grunts filled Jolene's ears. She moved a bit more, fighting the motion of the Carousel. The floor was slick with a mixture of fluids. Another bite caused a yelp from Jolene. She felt hot breath on her neck and back, a red glow reflected from the floor. A moment later two black forelegs blocked her way. She turned her body and screamed. Her hands braced behind her, against the motion of the Carousel. She tried to scoot backwards, the black's legs stopped her. She screamed again, cut off a moment later by the huge cock forced into her mouth. Her eyes bugged, her mouth stretched. The taste sent an unexpected thrill through her. Almost instantly, she was incredibly horny again. She knew she should run, but couldn't. She grabbed the huge cock with both hands and sucked in a frenzy. Her mouth opened wider, she tried to stuff more and more into it. It reached the back of her throat, she gagged. It thrust forward, she gagged again, and tried to pull it deeper. She was being driven by it's taste, her cunt was on fire. She dropped a hand to her clit and rubbed hard. A moment later, she moaned aorund the thickness filling her mouth and let go with a dripping wet climax. She slid in her own juices, and concentrated on the throbbing hunk of flesh now sliding down her throat. She slid her mouth over and over it's length, paying extra attention to the tip. Loud snorts from above and more swelling from below told her the black was getting close. She took her wet hand from herself, and began gently massaging his balls. Her jaw ached as he swelled even more. She moved her wide open mouth furiously at the tip, unable to fit any more in. One hand stroked his shaft while the other continued to caress his large balls. A moment later, his sack jerked, his huge cock twitched. A moment after that, thick streams of him shot into her willing mouth, quickly overfilling it. She swallowed as fast as she could, but so much was pouring in, it ran out of her mouth, down her chin, and across her tits in a warm pearly flow. He came and came, his balls jerking, hard cock shooting into her still working mouth. Finally the streams slowed. She slid him from her lips, aiming the last jets at her face. Her hands moved to her come covered upper body, rubbing the beautiful mess over her face, her tits, pinching it into her nipples. Her hands moved lower, sliding back and forth over her now aching pussy. The insanity around her returned, the sounds, the smells of heat, the motion of the Carousel. She knew she had to get off, or be lost forever. The black seemed sated for the moment. She moved to hands and knees, and crawled forward toward the open pole. To her right, the girl filly was being taken at both ends. Globs of come ran from her chin as she was fucked from behind. She cried as she came, he tears mixing with the come on her face. Jolene moved closer to the open spot, crawling faster. A few more feet, she could roll off on the back side, away from the crowd, and run into the night. She got one hand on the pole as two legs slammed down in front of her. She was trapped between them and the pole. A blast of hot breath blew past her head as teeth closed on her pony tail, and yanked up. Jolene yelped again, it let go. She stared ahead, hearing the laughs of the crowd creatures as she passed. An inhuman voice came from a mouth at her ear. 'Now I make you mine' She screamed and jerked upward as the black's huge cock jammed deep into her pussy. Her back hit his chest, he thrust deeper. She shrieked in agony. He thrust again, deeper. She thought she would be ripped apart. He thrust again. The creatures laughed at her torment. She pulled forward as best she could, giving herself an inch against the searing pole invading her. He filled it back with more. Her shrieks drowned out the other sounds as the black began to fuck her. She had never had so much cock being slid, let alone slammed into her. She would be sore for a week. She gripped the pole, and held on for dear life. The powerful thrusts rocked her body, shoving it forward, pulling it back. Her cries became grunts as she surrendered to the pounding. She felt the last of herself slipping away. Her hands fell from the pole to the floor, bracing herself for the next. She turned her ass up to meet him, to give a better angle. Her hips moved slowly back and forth. His thrusts slowed, becoming almost gentle. She felt herself getting wet, easing his entries. He slowed even more, working himself in and out of her growing wetness. She had surrendered, her tightness stretched around him. She began to meet his slow pace. A soft moan came from her. He stopped, letting her slide herself along him. She gave a long loud groan, and shook. He felt her twitches around him as she came. Her arms gave, she rested her head on them, her ass turned even higher. He knew she was nearly gone. CarousHell He pulled back to the tip, just letting her abused pussy lips close around it like a kiss. He pushed forward, only an inch. She murmured something, he slid back again, teasing her. As he moved forward, deeper this time, she exhaled deeply. He pushed, she sighed, and tried to move him deeper. He pulled back, she made a sound of disappointment. Bit by bit he moved into her. She panted in tiny breaths, begging for more. He knew she was ready. He started slowly, eventually giving her his full length. The last of Jolene slipped away as the black's huge cock slid in and out of her now dripping cunt. She was no more than a fuck toy, and wanted it that way. She felt a climax build and pass. He picked up the tempo. Another took her. He went faster. She met him thrust for thrust. Another. She slammed his length into herself, her hands gripping the pole for support. She grimaced, her body tensed. His cock pounded her. She threw back her head, a torrent of sounds raged from her. He thrust harder, faster. She froze, a long guttural sound welled up from deep within her, peaking to a scream of pure primal release. Her body rocked as she came, impaling herself on his hardness. It rolled on and on. His powerful thrusts resumed, drawing it out. Her noises were now unintelligble, animalistic. She moved from one blinding climax to the next. His cock swelled, he was getting ready to join her. Her hips were a blur as she tried to meet his pounding. Her pussy was swollen almost inside out, and still she wanted more. He snorted loudly, growing closer, fucking her even harder. He froze, and unloaded inside her. Moments later the overflow spilled from her overworked cunt. She kept moving, screaming as she came one more time. The Carousel was slowing. The lights faded, the sounds and music stopped. The horses were returning to normal. She was in a sticky pool of drying sex. Her pussy was raw. The Carousel stopped The crowd was gone. Daylight was beginning to show on the horizon. She went to step off the ride, but the pole through her back held her in place. She watched in horror as her arms turned to forelegs, her body stiffening, becoming immobile. She felt a playful nip on her ass just before it too, turned into painted plaster. Her mind stayed aware, knowing night would come again. And again, and again.