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Chance Encounter

By: mlyn



He had been sitting at the bar for a while when he saw her enter. He had been watching the entrance ever since he had arrived. And she was noticeable indeed, dressed as she was in a skin tight, strapless red dress that clung to her body like a second layer of skin almost. She walked slowly through the dimly lit, smoke-filled lounge towards the bar. Her hips moved sinuously as she maneuvered between the closely set tables and chairs. Her breasts seemed to strain the bounds of her dress with her every step. He paused from staring at her, to take a quick glance around the 'happy hour' crowded bar. 

He easily saw that he wasn't the only male taking notice of the beautiful woman in red. Her dark hair was piled atop her hair in a careless cascade of curls, some of which had escaped to caress the sides of her long neck. She wore no jewelry to distract from the splendid display of her nearly naked breasts. He thought to himself that she had the look of a very classy woman, perhaps a very high-priced hooker, or even a woman who had money to spend any way she pleased, with no one to answer to. When she reached the bar, she seated herself near the center of long teak wood bar.

Watching her seat herself on the tall chair was an enjoyable event. She had to ease the tight skirt upwards until she could raise her right leg enough to reach the stools lower rung with her high-heeled foot and ease herself upwards onto the padded leather seat. He got a very enticing glimpse of stocking tops, and what appeared to be an actual garter on one thigh. Once seated, she set her small matching red purse on the counter top. She smiled when the bartender came over, asking her what she wanted to drink. He couldn't hear what she said, but whatever it was, it made the middle-aged, a bit rough looking bartender smile as he turned away to fulfill her request. He decided he would wait a few moments, and then signal the bartender and buy the lady a drink.

She turned nervously, looking back towards the bar entrance for a few moments, then faced back to the bar. She shifted on the stool, her skintight red dress was more than just form fitting, and it actually was a bit restrictive to breathing. It was the boning in the bodice that caused that problem, but that also allowed the low cut top to stay up without any shoulder straps also. But she also had the distinct sensation that her full breasts could very easily spill forth from their red velvet prison, if she happened to breathe, or maybe cough, a bit too deeply. She was impressed with herself that she had managed to walk across the lounge, to say nothing of the walk across the lobby of the posh hotel where the bar was located, from where the cab had left her at the main entrance. Her long brown hair, which was artlessly piled atop her head in a spill of curls that was mostly curtailed, except for a wisp or two that fell down to caress her naked shoulders, felt precariously near to total disaster, as did the front of her dress. However, her hairdresser had assured that two hours spent achieving this careless look would withstand nearly anything, barring a romp in bed, he had joked. Sitting here now, she just hoped she could keep the dress up, her hair up, and maintain some level of composure until he arrived. 

She smiled again when the bartender returned with her "Blue Hawaii" that came complete with a small, silly little paper umbrella. She had gone blank when he had asked her what she wanted to drink. She had never been much of a drinker, and had stretched her memory and luckily come up with a tropical drink she had had one time while on vacation in Hawaii with her cousin. She sipped from the small straw in the drink, her nose bumping the umbrella, before she removed it. She noticed that her bright red lipstick left a definite stain on the straw. Perhaps she had applied it a bit too heavily, but she had wanted it all to be just perfect...

She decided that perhaps she should try to smoke a cigarette. Therefore, she opened the very small purse she had with her, and pulled out an unopened pack of cigarettes. She fumbled with the wrapping for a minute, her very long, and new, red artificial nails getting in the way, before she finally managed to pull forth one of those long, skinny cigarettes adorned with little flowers in a ring near the filter. She didn't smoke, but she had thought that smoking a cigarette would be appropriate in this setting, so she had stopped and bought this one pack.

She finally had the cigarette out, and was holding it her red-tipped, neatly manicured hand when she realized she had forgotten to get a lighter. She frowned for a moment, wondering if she should just forget the cigarette idea, or ask the barkeep for a match. Suddenly, a masculine hand came into her range of vision, holding a lit match. Carlie turned and saw a bald-headed man seated next to her. She was a bit startled to have been offered a light by anyone, let alone a stranger. She started to shake her head no, when she remembered the unlit cigarette in her hand. 

From the end of the bar, seated as he was in the shadow, the woman had not seen him. He watched as she fumbled about with the purse, the cigarette, and now the offer of a light. Bill could see the other man sizing her up with his eyes, as he lit her cigarette. He smiled when the woman coughed a bit when she inhaled on the cigarette. It was obvious to anyone she didn't smoke regularly as she then hurriedly set the cigarette down once she stopped coughing. He could tell the other man was offering to buy her a drink, and he saw her shake her head no. He also could see that the bartender was watching the woman more than he had watched any of his other customers since he had entered the bar earlier. The bald man said something else to the woman, and she frowned and again obviously said no, shaking her head negatively to reinforce her answer. The bartender moved closer as if to suggest he was willing to come to the woman's assistance, should she need it. Then the man laughed ruefully, and moved away from the bar.

Bill shifted on his barstool as he watched the beautiful woman again readjust herself on her own chair. She was "stacked" and looked like she had been poured into that red dress she was wearing. He watched as she coughed again, and he wondered at the sturdiness of the dress that she wearing as her lovely, round breasts pressed against the velvet cups that held them prisoners. He could easily imagine his own large hands moving upwards from her waist to slowly enclose those full, round breasts. He would cup them for a moment, squeezing her firm globes at first, and then he would ease the dress down and those big, beautiful breasts would pop right out. He felt himself getting hard at the vision he was having of himself with the woman in the red dress. He found himself wondering about that garter he had caught but a small glimpse of when she had pulled her skirt upwards. 

He signaled the bartender and then he ordered a "Long Island Iced Tea" for the woman. The bartender frowned, but he went ahead, fixed the drink, and then proffered it to the woman. Bill watched as she looked from the drink, to the bartender, and finally down the length of the bar, into the shadows towards himself as the bartender indicated the buyer of the drink. Her eyes met his down the long bar. He watched as her face stayed emotionless for a moment, and slowly, a slight smile curved her luscious, red-painted lips. He slid off his chair and moved slowly over to where she was seated. He nodded his head in greeting.

"May I join you?" Bill asked her softly.

She smiled more openly, and turned towards him as he seated himself. "Hello, my name is Carlie." She offered her soft hand in welcome to him. "Thanks for the drink."

Bill smiled, and told her his name. He sipped his rye whiskey as he felt her soft brown eyes travelling over his own well-built frame, encased in a new gray suit he had just bought. Her eyes paused on the dark red silk tie knotted at his throat, and then she met his own blue eyes. She blushed, realizing he had been aware of her detailed scrutiny. Nevertheless, he just smiled as a bright flush stained her cheeks. He held out a gold, engraved lighter, flicking it open. She laughed as she realized that he had her seen mishap with the cigarette. She shrugged her bare shoulders.

"No thanks. I don't smoke regularly."

"I figured that out... I was afraid I might have to rush over and pound you on the back." He paused as he watched her nervously finger the unlit cigarette. "But I was more afraid that if I did that, you would spill right out the front of that dress." He enjoyed the bright stain of blush that rushed once again her cheeks, and this down her long neck. He wondered if he reached out and touched the blushing skin, if it would feel warmer than the rest of her pale, unblemished skin.

Carlie laughed. "And here I thought this dress was perfect for the setting."

Bill was aware the bartender was still keeping an eye out for the woman. "The dress is lovely. But I must admit, that it was totally unexpected."

Carlie frowned at her husband. "Humph," was all she replied, a bit disgruntled. This little 'game' had been his idea, and she had wanted to be the perfect 'pick up.' She just hadn't been sure what would be the perfect way to dress for such a situation. 

Bill laughed. "I am duly impressed though. And, you look absolutely beautiful of course."

Carlie relaxed and resumed her role in the game. "Do you come here often, Bill?" She met his blue eyes with her brown ones as she sipped the 'iced tea' he had paid for.

"No, I'm just in town overnight on business actually. What about you? Do you come here a lot?" He was enjoying their game immensely, wondering just how far she would let it go.

"Oh yes," Carlie replied, turning to smile at the bartender. "I'm in here nearly every night, aren't I?" Her eyes pleaded with the older man to play along. He just shrugged at the strange customers he got anymore, and nodded his head. 

"Do you have plans for the evening?" he asked softly. "I was hoping you might like to join me for dinner, and maybe a little dancing... and who knows..."

Carlie decided to change the rules just a bit, for fun. "Well, actually, I am a bit limited on time tonight Bill. My husband is expecting me home in a few hours..." She paused as she saw the frown on Bill's furrowed forehead as he thought and wondered what she talking about. Then she surprised once again, as she continued speaking, this time in a slightly softer tone of voice. "But if you are registered here at the hotel, maybe we could just go on up to your room now, and skip the preliminaries?"

Bill and Carlie turned as the bartender dropped a glass. Obviously, she had not spoken soft enough. Bill coughed a bit in surprise, and tried to regain his composure at being so blatantly propositioned. He wasn't very sure why she had changed the game plan, but he decided to play along.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his key. "I have a suite actually. Shall we go on up now?" He stood and waited for her next move.

Carlie chewed on her lower lip for a minute because she had been sure that that comment would have ended the game. However, Bill still obviously wanted to go on. She nodded and picked up her purse. She slid a bit precariously down from the chair, pausing to adjust her dress. Bill signaled her to lead the way as he carelessly laid money on the bar to cover both of their drinks. 

Carlie could feel many eyes watching her walk back to the entrance of the lounge. She figured they were wondering when she would trip and fall off her ridiculously high heels. But in fact, most of the men were more entranced by the way the high heels caused her hips to sway as she maneuvered around chairs and tables, and the delectable bouncing of her full, barely constrained breasts. Bill enjoyed the view himself, fully aware that nearly every male in the place was watching her, and probably envying him at that moment. Yes, he thought to himself, he was very lucky indeed.

In silence, he escorted her up to his suite at the very posh downtown hotel. He noted that the elevator operator nearly popped his eyes out when he and Carlie had entered the elevator together, since he had been the same young man who had shown him to his room 'alone' just an hour or so earlier. He looked at Carlie, and she was staring down at the elevator floor. It had been his fantasy, and she was doing her best to fulfill it for him. She was a beautiful woman, and most of the time was very unaware of the sexual looks that followed her progress most places she went. 

As the elevator softly dinged its' arrival at his floor, Carlie startled a bit nervously. She smiled at the elevator operator and thanked him though, before walking off the elevator. She walked along the corridor nervously, feeling Bill's heat seeping into as he walked close to her, his hand lightly resting at the back of her waist. She couldn't help but feel some of the nervous excitement, as if it were all 'real.' Once inside the suite, was really quite sumptuous upon first glance, Bill offered to pour her another drink. Carlie shook her head, not sure what another woman would do in a similar situation. She noted the large windows that looked out over the lights of the city, and wandered over to look out. She could see Bill's reflection behind as he came over to join her. 

His face was still so handsome, and his body nearly as fit and muscular as when they had first met over 20 years ago. Moreover, his touch, his mere presence was still enough to fire her passion and have her blood boiling within seconds of his first touch. She felt his warm breath touch and lightly stir the curls at the nape of her neck as he spoke.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you are?"

Carlie nodded her head, feeling nervous, and wondering at the strangeness of it all. She knew him so intimately, and yet at this moment, it was as if they truly were strangers. She felt his at the back of her dress. The pads of his fingertips felt just a bit rough as they touched her skin. Little frissons of desire snaked through her, awakening places inside her that she hadn't been aware of for a very long time. Then she felt his fingers sliding the zipper of her dress down. The rasp sounded loud in the silence of the room. She looked up and raised her hands to the bodice of her dress as she felt it began to loosen. His intense gaze held hers in the reflection of glass. She could feel that the zipper was now totally undone, and her hands were the only barrier between her nakedness. 

His voice was soft, yet intent. "Lower your hands."

She heard the demand in his words, not a pleading. She slowly lowered her hands to her sides, and both watched as the velvet red dress slowly fell away from her full, pale-skinned breasts. Her breasts reacted instantly to cooler temperature and her nipples tightened instantly into delicious, pink peaks. She stared back at him in the reflecting windows, darkened by the night beyond. She saw his eyes lower to her breasts. She saw the way his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared as passion flowed through his body as he gazed her large aroused breasts. He loved her breasts. He always had. He was constantly touching them, caressing her nipples, teasing them, pinching them. One of favorite things to do would be when they would be in the car, going to a store. He would also stop her before she got out and play with her breasts, teasing them until her nipples were peaked up hard and tight, and obviously poking at her shirt or sweater. Then he would take her into the store, knowing that her large breasts were rarely ignored anyway, let alone with such tight nipples blaring their presence to the world. He enjoyed seeing other men looking at his 'woman.' 

She watched now as his eyes stared at her breasts. She waited anxiously for his hands to come up and begin caressing her eager flesh. Instead, his hands moved to her waist, and gently eased the tight dress on down. She saw his eyes widen in surprise as he saw that she wasn't wearing any panties at all. All she wore with her stockings was a red lace garter belt, and a black frilly individual garter graced the top of her left thigh stocking. He told her step free of the dress, which was now puddled at her feet. She could sense his breathing quickening as he gazed at her nearly naked body, clad only in garter belt, stockings and red high-heeled shoes. She felt rather naughty herself, standing there like that. She started to turn around, wanting to undress him now, but he stopped her. He held he still, partially in front of himself, their reflections still visible in the window. 

Both of them watched as his right hand lightly touched the upper side of her right thigh, the heat of his hand felt like a branding iron for a moment against her skin. Then he slowly ran it upwards, caressing her waist, pausing to lightly snap the red garter belt against her skin. His hand moved forward, instead of upward, as she expected. He caressed her lower abdomen, and then moved down. His fingers touched her brown curly thatch of hair. They tangled in the thicket of pussy fur. His words surprised her though.

"Tonight, my sweet, I am going to shave you smooth."

She gasped. He had been asking her about this over the last several months, and she had not wanted to commit herself, one way, or the other. She always managed to change the subject. Ever since he had discovered shaving for himself, he had wanted her to try it too. It appeared as if he was not putting up with her waiting and indecision any longer. She opened her mouth to protest, but she stopped as she saw the fire raging in his eyes. Maybe she should try it....

Bill took her hand then, and led her into the large bedroom. He left her for a moment, coming back out with a towel. She watched as he placed the towel on the bed. He then pulled her over to the bed. He kissed her lightly, his hands coming up to caress her shoulders, and then sliding down to cup and fondle her heavy breasts. Over and over, he caressed her tender, sensitive breasts, teasing her tight, hard nipples to even harder peaks of desire. She could feel her wetness forming at the top of her inner thighs.

Bill then told her to lie back on the bed, placing her bottom in the center of the towel. Once she had done so, he left her to go back to the bathroom. As she lay on the bed, feeling a bit foolish wearing only a garter belt, stockings and high heels, she could hear him opening things in the bathroom, the water running. She was also incredibly aroused right then. She was amazed at how overwhelming the feelings were that were crashing over her like huge, cresting waves.

She watched in silence as he reentered the room carrying several things, one of which was a small bowl of steaming water. He arranged these, pulling a small table near to be accessible from the bed. He told her to relax, this wouldn't hurt a bit. She tried to rise up a bit, curious and yet unsure of whether she really wanted to do this or not. Then he surprised her by lifting a comb from the table, and then proceeding to gently begin combing through her pubic hair. The touch of his hands against her skin, the slight tug of the hair was so erotically arousing she could feel moisture seeping from between her lips. 

He looked up at her as he set down the comb, and rubbed his hand lightly over her pubic hair. She shivered at his touch.

"You do have such nice, soft pussy fur baby, but it will be even nicer once I have removed it." He then lifted the scissors. He paused, drawing out the moment, as he slowly lifted one small tuft of hair, and then placed the scissors, opened, right at the edge of the hair. He looked back up and met her eyes. He spoke softly.

"Say 'bye bye' pussy fur." Then the schnick sound of the scissors followed his words. He held up the shorn lock of hair to show her, and then he dropped it onto the towel. Without saying anything else, he cut off another lock of hair, and then another. He methodically worked his way slowly, until her pubic hair had been cut to just about 1/4 inch long. He set down the scissors. He reached out, smiling, to rub his fingers over the new stubbles, the same as one does for a new crewcut. She shivered in reaction to his fingers sifting over the short strands of hair. She watched as he rinsed out a washrag in the hot water, and then he pressed this against her pubic area.


Chance Encounter



She gasped and started to scoot away, but he stopped her, still pressing the warm rag to her skin. He told her that would make the 'shave' go better. After a few moments, he set the rag aside and filled his palm with white foamy shaving crème. Carlie watched as he began smoothing the white foam all over her lower abdomen, down and back towards her butt. He wiped his hands clean, and then picked up a razor. She recognized the triple razor head shaver he bought for himself a few months earlier. Then she stopped thinking as she felt the cool blade touch her skin, followed by the faint rasping sound as the razor began denuding her skin. She looked up to see Bill leaning over to rinse the razor in the warm water. Then she felt him sliding the razor once again across her skin, removing still more of her pubic hair. After several more strokes, rinsing each time, he then told her to drop her thighs and then she felt him very gently touching her outer pussy lips, adjusting her skin, and then the rasp of the razor once again. His fingers kept moving her lips, stretching her, to make the razor slide more easily over her skin. 

Each touch of his fingers made her hotter, and had her seeping increasingly sweet liquid from her pussy with every single caress. She was unable to stop the shiver that chased up her spine, nor the erotic little wiggle of her hips. She was so aroused that she thought she was probably going to cum any second... 

A few more swipes of the razor and then he set it aside. She watched as he rinsed his fingers in the water, and then she cried out as his fingers returned to her now totally shaven pussy and begin to explore each millimeter of exposed skin for any stray hairs. And when he moved to her inner lips and exposed her clit, and flicked at it once, Carlie screamed out in joy and surprise. Bill moved the shaving stuff away, and then smiling once at her, he lowered his head and began 'testing for stray hairs' with his tongue this time. A few clever licks and flicks of tongue, his fingers caressing and stroking her most sensitive flesh and Carlie came with a gush of womanly fluids, gasping, her hips jerking out of control.

Bill rested his head on one of Carlie's wide spread thighs as her breathing calmed and her body recovered from her climactic release. He felt her fingers softly touch his hair, stroking lightly, caressing the strands. He finally lifted his head and found her watching him with half closed eyes. He smiled.

"So," he asked her quietly. "How do you like your first taste of smooth love making?"

Carlie laughed softly. "Well, if you happen to have another razor, I'd be happy to return the favor?"



Chance Encounter



He had been driving forever it seemed. Now every sign post and group of buildings looked the same in the dim illumination of the car's headlights. How he could have gotten so lost was beyond him. The dreary roads became very ominous once the fuel light started flashing several minutes before. Unfortunately, the last gas station had been passed quite a while before he had noticed how low he was on gas. 

The car, as expected, started to stall and finally came to a stop. With a sigh he locked the vehicle and started out on foot down the dark road. About an hour passed until, finally, lights could be seen up ahead. As he neared the building a lone figure stood at the doorway. The person was hard to make out but their actions were clear; they were locking the doors to a convenience store. He picked up his pace and approached the figure. 

She turned abruptly, startled by his quick pace.

"I'm not some psycho; I just had car trouble and I need gasoline," he quickly explained. The woman looked at him, still shaken and a bit nervous. 

"I don't mean to be rude but you can't be too careful these days." 

"Fully understandable," he replied. "Honestly, I'm far from home, I have no one to call, and my rented car ran out of gas a few miles back." 

The woman looked him over. He seemed sincere and she was attracted to him by his situation. He was several years younger then her, which added to her desire. He seemed like a nice young man asking for her guidance and it turned her on. She held her keychain with her mace tightly in her left hand, just in case. 

"Well, as you can see, there is no gas here, but I have a gas can at my house," she offered.

"I would really appreciate it. I'm in quite a bind and I will repay you for your help." 

"I'm sure you will," she said confidently. 

They walked to her car and she activated the automatic locks. They both stepped in and drove off. As they sat and made polite small talk he was able to really look at his rescuer. She was a bit older then him and he imagined her beauty had only grown with age. Her frame was small and her body seemed to that of a woman many years younger. She wore a rather short pleated skirt that hiked up a bit in the driver's seat, revealing her soft, supple legs. Her feet were cover in a pair of calf high boots; a look he really liked. Her shirt was low-cut and accentuated her small, supple breasts. She had a very natural sexuality and he found himself unable to look away from her. Her short hair played against her pretty face as she talked and her full lips were ruby red. 

She noticed his glances and knew that he was trying to look at her without being too obvious. She was feeling so attracted to this stranger she thought she would be bold, and take a chance. 

"So you seem to like what you see," she coyly remarked.

"Oh. Um… Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. But, yes, I find you very attractive," he stammered. 

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Chris. Yours?"

"Hi Chris. I’m Cindy," she responded.

"Well, Cindy, are you married?"

What a question! She knew where this might lead. And she was hoping it would go there. She lost her husband 2 years ago in an auto accident. She took the life insurance money and purchased the convenience store. She had been running it ever since. She liked being an independent business woman, but it was lonely. There had been no men in her life since she lost her husband. Oh, she tried the dating scene, but they all wanted one of two things; her body or her money. What she wanted and needed was a friend who appreciated her for who she was.

But, since that was an impossible find, she was considering one other option. Here was an attractive young man, "just passing through". What would it be like to have hot, passionate sex with a stranger, knowing you would never see one another again? No strings, just great physical satisfaction.

The notion began to build steam in her mind. All this was rushing through her head as she answered his question.

"Widowed. You?"

"I almost married once," he said, "but it did not work out. I travel a lot and that’s hard on a relationship."

As he finished his thought, they arrived at her house. She lived on a back rural road, in a modern yet rustic log cabin. She parked the car in the garage and they got out.

"The gas can is right there," she said as she pointed to the back of the garage. "Would you like to come in for coffee?"

She knew she was taking a chance but she thought she had a good read on him and felt the chance a good risk.

He was very attracted to her and suspected she was offering him an opportunity. He was already painfully hard, his physical attraction strong. He nodded to her offer and they walked into her house.

They were instantly greeted by two big, beautiful Golden Retrievers. She reached down and warmly greeted each dog. He liked the way her face glowed with love for them. After they finished saying Welcome Home to their mistress, they were introduced to him. He smiled and patted each one on the head. Smart, kind, obedient animals.

She put her keys and purse on the counter and started to make coffee. He looked around the house and learned a lot about her from what he saw. The place was neat and orderly but still warm and homey. The furnishings were conservative and tasteful. 

"Here we go. Let’s sit on the couch," she said.

Before she sat down, she put a few logs on the woodstove in the large, cathedral ceiling living room. The woodstove had a glass front so you could see the merry flames as well as feel the welcome warmth. 

She sat down next to him on the small couch. Their knees were only inches apart, but they both could feel the electricity sparking between them. Silently, they sipped. He wanted to be forward and touch her, but did not want to scare her away. She knew she would have to make a move if anything was to happen. She sensed his hesitancy.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his erection. "You know? You only live once. Take a chance," she said to herself.

What she did next surprised even her.

She reached over, put a hand on his thigh to get his attention, and leaned into a kiss when he turned his face to her. The contact was electrifying! When their lips touched, they both got chills. His hardon got tighter. She could feel the trickling warmth of her desire.

When the kiss broke, they looked into each other’s eyes and simultaneously burst out laughing. Perfect! The laughter broke the tension. "Look, Chris, I would be very interested in getting physical with you tonight. Forgive my forwardness, but I sense this is what you want, too. I do not normally do this; in fact, I have not been with a man since my husband passed away. I am not looking to commit you to anything, but I wish to be bold here and have a hot, passionate experience with you."

He could not believe his ears. He liked her more and more as he came to know her. "I, too, am not casual about my encounters. However, I would enjoy you on whatever terms you set."

She put her coffee cup down and took his hand as she stood up. He silently followed her lead. She led him to her bedroom. The room was large and roomy. The bed neat. Kingsize. She led him right to the bed and gently pushed him down on it. She leaned over him and kissed him again. This kiss was deep and made both of them even hotter. She moved her hands along his chest and felt the strength there. She broke the kiss and ran her hands over his attractive face for a moment. She boldly reached her hand and felt his erection through his pants. A moan escaped him. She came back up and unbuttoned his shirt. His chest exposed, she ran her hands lightly over his skin. She liked the look and feel of his chest. She brought her face to it next, smelled of him, ran her hair and cheek lightly over his skin. His masculine odor was very appealing.

She moved to his pants next. Quickly, she unbuckled his belt. She unsnapped his jeans and eased the zipper down. In a deft move, she had his pants lowered. She looked up at him and he humped his legs up so she could remove his pants entirely. There he was; she took a moment to appreciate him. His chest was exposed, as were his long legs. He had a lean, strong look about him. She could not help but admire his erection bolding outlined through his shorts. Their eyes met and the smoky, half-lidded, passionate look they exchanged told them both this was right.

She wanted to taste him very badly. She moved her face to his hips and put her lips on his cock through his shorts. She blew her hot breath on him. His cock jerked reflexively. She wanted to take her time, but she was hot and really needed to feel his flesh. She lifted his shorts and took them off, too. Again, she took a moment to admire him. She reached over to the head of his cock and saw the clear, moist drop of his desire. She touched it lightly with her finger and spread it around his head. She dropped her head to his cock and licked it lightly. She lazily circled his head, around the tip, with her tongue. Holding his cock in one hand, she licked down the front of it. Lightly back to the head, then down the front. First slowly, then with increasing tempo. 

His eyes were closed at first and he was thinking how incredible, and unlikely, this was. He opened his eyes and watched her expertly enjoy his cock. She was good! The best part was her obvious pleasure. She was truly into pleasing him. Tasting him. Pleasuring him. He closed his eyes again and just enjoyed.

Now she was really getting into it. She was gasping and writhing as she began to suck him. She took all of him deeply in her mouth. Then back up. Down again. First slowly and hotly, then with increasingly fast strokes. On her way up, she would apply suction, drawing more of his desire out. 

She could tell he was getting close to cumming, so she eased off. She wanted him to have a chance to pleasure her. She gave one last deep, warm suck, a long lick, and one more circle of his head. She came back up, climbed over him, joining him in bed.

"Oh, that was GREAT," he gasped.

"I’m glad you enjoyed it. I sure did. But I’m so hot now, I’d love it of you would return the favor."

He laughed at her comment and kissed her deeply on the lips. He rolled over her body, ending up on top, straddling her. His tongue and lips played along her neck and the exposed part of her chest above her shirt. His hands trembled a bit with excitement as he pulled her arms over her head. He then slid both his hands down her sides and began to unbutton her blouse. A soft moan escaped her lips as his hands glided over her hard nipples, beneath the cotton of her garment. Each button he undid allowed his hot mouth to continue to descend down her chest and stomach. She lay under him, shirt unbuttoned, with her small firm breasts hidden only beneath her lacy violet bra. He took in her beauty as he sat up and her own hands grasped his thighs tightly. 

"I want your mouth all over me," she whimpered.

His hands found her breasts again and he grasped them through her bra. He pulled the straps from over her shoulders and began to lower her bra to her stomach. Her nipples were hard and ready to be enjoyed. He leaned over and gently ran his tongue over her breasts. He nibbled and played gently at first, letting her excitement build. His kisses and licks became gently sucking, as he switched back and forth between her tits. Her legs writhed up between his and he felt her crotch through her skirt. He ran his hands up her skirt, exposing her matching lace panties. He leaned back and slid her skirt off, throwing it to the corner. He kneeled at the foot of the bed and gently pulled her tight, soft legs toward him. Her legs hung over the edge of the bed and he lowered his head between her legs. His hot breath through her panties made her even hotter, her own hands groped at her breasts. 

His hands gripped her ass tightly and he found the top of her panties, pulling them down and off. Her pussy was already quite wet with her excitement. She had shaved her pussy that morning, leaving a soft stubble around her wetness. He gently licked and kissed each inner thigh, his already strong hard-on pulsed with excitement. The smell of her turned him on even before he tasted her. His tongue gently touched her lips and he drank in the first bit of her wetness. 

He played there a bit; licking and kissing her outer lips enough to make her squirm. He continued to do this until he felt her hands on either sides of his face; not pushing but guiding. He knew she wanted more and began to dart his tongue in and out of her wetness. She tasted so good, he wanted to get his tongue as deeply into her as he could. As he picked up the pace, his chin and lips became drenched with her hot cum. His hand slid toward her and he inserted a finger inside her as he continued. 

"Ohhhh, OHHH Yesss, lick my pussy, baby; that's it," she begged. 

Her somewhat dirty talk was unexpected but appreciated; it made him hotter and hotter knowing how good he was making her feel. He rose up briefly and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply, letting her taste her own wetness. She crawled over him and began to straddle him. His hands reached below her thighs before she could lower herself on to his cock.

"Not yet..." he told her.

He forcefully moved her toward his face, and she sat over him, now in control of him. She pushed her pussy over his face and grabbed the headboard to steady herself. His hands grabbed at her tight ass as he continued to eat her out. He moaned as did she, their sexual noises turning the other on even more. He felt her ass tighten and he knew she was close. He continued his pace, and her juices were now dripping all over his face. 

"Oh, God, YES, YES!! I'm CUMMING!!!" she screamed. 

Her body shook and a flood of her juices flowed into his mouth. She was quivering, but still managed to lower herself to his knees. Still shaking, she took his rock-hard cock back in her hot mouth and began to lick. He was so hard and so ready. She was hungry for the feel of his stiff rod deep inside her. She thought of this as she sucked and licked.

Suddenly, he grabbed her head. She looked up at him; at the intense look on his face. She knew just what he needed; it was what she needed, too. She moved back up his body and this time he let her straddle his cock. She eased it in just a little. Even though she was hot and had already cum, her pussy was very tight. He almost lost it right there! But she sensed this and backed off. She eased on again, a little deeper, then up. Down, then up. Each time a little deeper. Each time she stopped for a moment longer before moving back up. Finally, he was in her all the way. He could feel the end of her inside. Her pussy lips were resting on his balls. A perfect fit!

She raised up one more time, partially, then down all the way, pushing, squirming, pushing deeper. Her head was thrown back. Her nipples hard and thrust out like pencil erasers. His hands were on her hips. She grabbed his wrists, quivered, and screamed out as she came fiercely. Watching her cum like that brought him to peak instantly. He cried out as he came, too. He came so hard he could feel it right through his balls.

"Oh, that was incredible!" she said when she got her breath back. She was laying by his side now, still in bed. She still had her calf boots on. Her bra still around her stomach. 

"Oh, yes, it was," he agreed.

They got up and got dressed. She had to get up early in the morning and he still had a long drive ahead of him tonight. They grabbed the gas can and got in her car. They were both thinking about how awesome they were together and regretting they would never see one another again.

When they got to his car, he put the gas in. He unlocked the door and climbed in. She stood outside his door to say goodbye. 

"I never paid you for the gas!" he remembered. 

"Oh yes! Yes, you did," she stated. She smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss.

"You know, I do get up this way every now and again…" 

"And you know where I live," she replied.

They both smiled as he drove away. She went back to her car and wondered if she’d ever see him again. When he drove past her convenience store a moment later, he thought to himself, "Yes, I think I’ll be out this way soon indeed!"



Chance Encounter



I have never done this before. Even now my instinct for self-preservation is urging me: "Take your foot off the brake pedal and put it back onto the accelerator! Don't be a fool! Don't stop! Drive on!" The car comes to a halt 30 yards ahead of her. I watch in the wing mirror as she approaches along the sidewalk, shoulders hunched, arms clasped across her chest, head down, wet, frozen.

It has been a pig of a drive home from my office on the other side of Town: darkness, cold driving rain, searing headlights, flying spray. Is it just me getting more aware of such things as I get older, or does everyone really go fucking mad in this kind of weather? Luckily, driving has become much easier now that I have reached the residential suburbs. It also helps that the rain had eased to a thick, misty drizzle. Then, a few seconds ago, my headlights picked her out, slightly built, walking fast, shoulders hunched, head down, wet, cold and seemingly utterly miserable. There is something about her that makes me take notice. Is it something in the manner she holds her body? Or is it something about the way she moves? Whatever it is, it has caused me to break a decade-long driving rule: never stop to pick up strangers, not even a woman on her own and possibly in distress. It could be a trap. There may be an accomplice with a gun or a knife hidden in the nearby shadows! What a sick, paranoid world we now live in!

I watch her approach in the mirror. Goddamn it! She doesn't even have a proper coat on! She must be soaked to the skin! She comes alongside the car and I lower the window. "Excuse me, ma'am, do you have very far to go? It looks pretty cold and wet out there. Can I give you a ride?"

She jumps away as if startled by the sound of my voice. She stoops and looks inside the car but stays well back in case I try to grab hold of her. What does she see? Nice car, Mercedes, not new, four years old purchased second-hand a year ago. And the owner of the voice inside the car asking the question? Late fifties, going a little bit grey at the temples. Well dressed, trim build, but patently no fitness freak. A bit like the car, sleek, pleasant, comfortable but not handsome. My clients like me to look successful, but not too prosperous.

Would I get in the car with me, a total stranger, if I was her? Probably not! I would ignore my soaking discomfort and say "Thank you, but no thank you" and continue on my way. She seems just about to say something along those lines when another heavy squall of rain hits us. With a moan of despair she opens the door and gets inside. 

The girl kind of perches on the edge of the seat squab, "I'm so wet I'll ruin the nice leather." Her voice is light and pleasant. I appreciate her consideration. Most people would have just sat back, grateful to be out of that awful rain and cold.

God, she is young! Much younger than I thought. No more than seventeen or eighteen! She is shivering violently. Her hair is plastered to her head, looks to be fair but it is impossible to say whether it is dark blonde or light brown. Intriguing pale grey eyes, narrow face, nose a little bit too big, generous lips almost blue with cold. There is no smell of cigarettes about her to offend me – not even her drenched state could hide that ugly smell. I reach over to the back seat where I keep the heavy woollen travel rug that I wrap around the frail aged parent when I pick her up from the rest home on a Sunday and take her out for a drive. Mom is always cold, even in the middle of summer. I hand it to the girl and tell her to put it around her; "You could have got hypothermia out there." 

She nods agreement. Her teeth are chattering so badly she can hardly speak. She struggles with the heavy rug and I want to help her with it, but I am scared that she will think I am making a pass.

I pull away from the curb. The rain squall has stopped as quickly as it started, but she makes no sign that she wants to get out of the car. We drive for five minutes with only the quiet murmur of the engine, the clack of windscreen wipers and the swish of tires on the wet road to break the silence. There is hardly any other traffic around now. I ask her, "Do you have far to go?"

She doesn't speak for nearly another minute, "I'm sorry, I should have told you. We passed the end of my road a couple of blocks back." 

I slow the Merc and prepare to turn around, "That's okay, I should have asked you sooner."

Her hand emerges from beneath the rug and she touches my shirtsleeve. Her fingers are freezing cold still. "Please! You have been so kind…stopping for me and all that. And I know it's a lot to ask, but could we drive for a little longer? If I get home soaking wet like this my Dad will kill me!"

I stop the car and turn to her. My mouth starts speaking without any input from my brain: "You're not going to get dry just by driving around in a car for a while. My place is only five more minutes down the road." Why the hell am I saying this? "You could have a hot shower and we could dry your clothes in the drier while you have a mug of soup or something."

She looks grateful at the suggestion, if a little apprehensive, "What about your wife? Won't she mind you turning up in the middle of the night with a total stranger?

It is only eight o'clock in the evening.

"I live alone. My wife died twelve years ago. My two sons are married and living overseas doing their own thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry…" She gazes steadily at me. She is trying to weigh up the risk I can tell, and very wise of her too. She comes to a decision, "That's very nice of you…as long as it won't be any hassle?" Her fear of her father must outweigh her fear of me.

"No hassle at all." Warm realisation flows through me – it really won't be any hassle at all! "You are most welcome."

"Okay then…"

We drive on. I ask her what her name is. "Carrie…"

"Short for?"

"Short for Caroline."

"With your permission I will call you Caroline, it is a lovely name."

The girl smiles for the first time. She has nice even teeth. "Thank you, and you are?"

"I am Jim."

"With your permission, I will call you James." 

We laugh companionably together. It is very odd, but I feel more at ease with this young stranger than I have felt with any other female in years. "Permission granted, ma'am!"

We do not speak again until reach my house, but our mutual silence is comfortable; there is no need to explain ourselves yet. I can tell that Caroline is impressed by the size of my home and the discreet affluence it indicates. I drive into the garage and lower the automatic door behind us. She looks surprised and then pleased when I move round to open the car door on her side and hand her out. She is not used to such old-fashioned gallantry. Now that we are both on our feet we find that I stand a head taller than she does. Caroline leaves her small hand in mine as I un-set the intruder alarm and usher her inside.

The heaters are preset to come on an hour before my usual arrival time so the house is cozy. I give her a quick guided tour of the downstairs area, showing her where the kitchen and lounge areas are, and then I lead her upstairs. "You will have to use my bathroom. The one I normally use for guests hasn't been used for a couple of years now and probably needs a good clean."

"That's okay," she murmurs lightly, but her fingers tense in mine when she finds that we have to pass thorough my bedroom to get to it. Thank goodness I made my bed before heading off to work this morning!

I show her into the bathroom and demonstrate how the instant hot water control works, "You can shower for as long as you like…the hot water will never run out! I'm afraid the only deodorants and stuff are for men, but they'll have to do for now. Now, you just hold on a minute and I go get you some towels and a bathrobe."

When I return the bathroom door is closed. I rap on it softly with my knuckles, "Towels and stuff ma'am." 

Caroline opens the door a crack and snakes her bare arm out to take what I have to offer. "Just hold on a second, James," she says from behind the protection of the door. Then her arm reappears with her hand holding a neat pile of wet clothes. As I take them from her I catch a brief glimpse of bare shoulder, hip and thigh. Caroline is naked.

On my way to the clothes drier I see that she has given me everything, including her bra and panties. We have reached a remarkable level of intimacy and trust in such a short time! I cannot help looking at her underwear as I carry her stuff downstairs. Her lingerie is not new and it shows signs of frequent repair, but it is scrupulously clean. I put everything into the drier and head into the kitchen to break out a can of soup for my guest.

When Caroline rejoins me in the kitchen she is shiny pink and fresh-scrubbed from the hot shower water. She looks about ten years old dressed in my spare terry bathrobe, which almost buries her, and a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. When she come close and takes her soup from me I can tell that she has used my deodorant. It smells different on her. "Aren't you having any?" she asks indicating her mug.

"Maybe later," I reply. I am staring at her too hard! "Come through to the lounge and relax."

Caroline chooses my favourite chair to sit in, but I find that I do not mind. I choose another armchair almost opposite her. She tucks her legs up under her in the seat and sips her soup, "Mmmmm, that is good!"

"I hope you like minestrone."

"It's perfect!"

I almost blurt out, "And so are you!" But I think it instead. The way she is sitting I can see part of the back of one smooth, slender thigh.

"You have a nice house, James, what to you do for a job?"

"I have my own real estate company."

"If you don't mind my saying so, you don't look like someone in real estate!"

"How do you come to that opinion?"

"I worked in a real estate office once." She named a very large agency that had several branches around the city. "The owner wore very ritzy suits and chunky gold watches and cufflinks and stuff."

"Aaah, they're in the residential market, those guys dress like that. I specialise in the commercial side…matching corporate clients with owners of rental office and warehouse space. I'm more of a real estate broker than an agent. You said 'worked…once', why did you leave?"

"Oh, the owner thought that my body came as part of the return for the lousy wage he was paying me."

I smiled ironically, "Yeah, that'd be Charlie D… all over!"

"You know him then?"

"Know of him…I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit!"

Caroline throws back her head and laughs. It was a completely unaffected sound, quite unlike the sharp, nasal cackle that so many young women effect nowadays. The bathrobe opens tantalisingly at her throat.

"And what do you do for a living Miss Caroline?"

"I'm a student at college. I work part time around my studies to get the money to go to university…I want to study bio-chemistry."

"Wow! Heavy stuff! Way out of my league…commercial law was hard enough!"

"If you love a subject enough it's not all that hard…" She reaches up with both hands and removes the towelling turban from her head. Her breasts lift beneath the heavy terrry robe and her hair cascades down to her shoulders. It is dark blond with tight natural ringlets. The robe at her throat opens further, revealing a vee of upper chest. She doesn't bother to pull it back closed.

I kill my mildly salacious thoughts: "So you were on your way home from work when I stopped for you tonight?"

"Not tonight…I had been at a friend's house…" Caroline senses an imperceptible tensing in my body, I don't even know myself that I've reacted. "A girl friend, James…one of my classmates from school. Her dad usually drives me home, he knows my Dad vaguely from his paper mill days, but they had a breakdown at the plant and he had to stay at work to help fix it."

"So you started walking in spite of the weather and the risk?"

"Uhuh, stupid I know."

"So James, the knight in shining armour rescues the damsel in distress…can't say that I've assumed that role before."

"It suits you…"

"And what does your father do?"

"He drinks…"

"Oh…I'm sorry…"

"It's not all his fault, the poor guy. He got laid off at the mill…and then Mom ran off with his best buddy…we haven't heard from her since. Dad always was a heavy drinker, it went with the job, but now he's completely lost control. If I'm not careful he takes it out on me…you know, with his fists…so that's why I was glad to get dry tonight before going home."

"Your clothes should be ready soon."

Caroline smiles, "If it's okay with you, I'm in no hurry. I'm enjoying being here, talking with you, Sir Knight."

My heart and mind both go into a dizzy sort of flutter. Then reality checks kick-in: You stupid old fool, Jim…you could almost be her grandfather!

"James, have you never had any relationships with anyone since your wife died? Twelve years is a long time to…well, you know."

Her question has put me on the spot. "Oh, I suppose so…a couple of very brief encounters with some very nice ladies." I take a deep breath. I don't know why I should confess anything to this young woman, but the words tumble out anyway, "But mostly, when things get tough I find that the hostesses at Caesar's are "accommodating"."

Caroline raises her eyebrows questioningly.

"Caesar's, the gentlemen's club in Town," I explain, "the ladies are pleasant and they are safe."

"Aaaah, I see…" She does not look shocked that I go to a whorehouse – an up-market one to be sure, but still a whorehouse. "But why, James? You are an attractive man…in looks I mean… and kind and sophisticated, and "wealthy". You could have your pick of just about anyone."

Once again, my mouth runs off without my brain catching up, " I suppose 'just about anyone' has not been good enough…I've not met anyone with "the spark". Not until tonight that is."

"You mean me?" She sounds incredulous. "Why me? I'm nothing special!"

"But you are, Caroline, you are! Don't ask me what it is, but there is something about you that… Look, I broke all the rules tonight. I stopped and offered you a ride. I brought you here…no ulterior motives, by the way, just an irresistible compulsion to help you. For all I knew, you could have been a junkie or some kind of crazy…even now all you have to do is start screaming "Rape!" and I would be in such deep shit you could extort anything you like out of me to keep you quiet…"

My voice tails off uncertainly. Caroline is looking at me with a steady, unblinking stare.

Motor Mouth takes over again, "And now you are here…you are so beautiful!"

She smiles. Her eyes sparkle sending shivers up my spine, "Sir James, you are a very gallant knight indeed! But I am not beautiful…"

"But you are!"

"My hair is a dirty straw colour...and it's straggly." Caroline grabs hold of a few of her locks ansd twists them around her fingers.

"It is soft gold. And those little curls suit you."

"My face is too narrow."

I shake my head in denial.

"My eyes are too close together and they're this weird grey colour!"

"Your eyes are lovely."

"My nose is definitely too big!"

"Barbara Striesland's nose is much bigger than yours…"

"Oh! You're impossible! I am not beautiful!"

"Yes you are!" We are beginning to sound like a pair of squabbling kids! I try to get in the last word, "And you have nice, soft, kissable lips and lovely teeth!"

"Dammit James! Look! I don't even have a decent pair of tits!"

The revelation of Caroline's bare chest overwhelms my senses. Without realising I have moved I find myself kneeling in front of her chair, supporting myself with my forearms on its arms. I gaze in awe at her beauty. Caroline's frame still has the slenderness of youth and I can detect the outline of her ribs beneath her skin. Her breasts are not large, but they are exquisitely formed with perky, up-tilted nipples. While I marvel at their perfection, her aureoles darken and swell in arousal. Caroline's warm breath brushes my cheek.

With trembling fingers I loosen the tie at her waist. Caroline makes no move to stop me when I part the bottom half of the robe to reveal her softly rounded belly, her lower abdomen and the sweep of her thighs. The triangle of springy hairs at their junction is a delightful reddish-gold that barely disguises the commencement of her vaginal slit.

Caroline speaks. Her voice is faint with a heartrending tremble to it, "Are you going to fuck me now?"

I tear my eyes from her nakedness and raise them to look into hers. "No…" For the first time I realise that I am hugely erect and that my genital area is pressed against Caroline's lower shins and feet. My whole being is on fire with wanting her, but I also know with an unshakeable certainty that to take her at this moment would be wrong. I force the words through the dry constriction in my throat, "But, if I may, I would like to kiss you."

Caroline takes hold of my head in both hands and brings my lips to hers. Our mouths open and our tongues entwine. It is an exploratory kiss. There is desire and need, but it is under control. Her mouth tastes of minestrone soup. Perversely, I find myself wishing that I had prepared some for myself.

We break apart. Caroline still holds my face in her hands. Her lips have that puffy, bruised look of intense arousal. Her cheeks are flushed. Her chest heaves with her ragged breathing. Her eyes are heavy lidded with passion. It would be so easy…

"Come…I didn't bring you here for this. I will go and get your clothes and, after you have dressed, I will take you home."

Caroline's eyes glitter with tears, I have utterly crushed her. I have rejected her. She was going to give herself to me, but I do not want her after all.

I kiss the tip of her nose lightly, "The chivalrous knight desires the beautiful virgin princess totally, but he admires and respects her totally as well. I must take you home."

Her voice is husky with emotion, "How did you guess that I am still a virgin?"

I take hold of her hands and place her palms flat on my chest, "No guess – something in here knew from the instant I first saw you."

"Your heart is beating really fast!"

"I am pumping so much adrenaline I feel like a sprinter who has just won an Olympic Gold Medal!" 

"James, will you kiss me three more times? I will lead the way."

Caroline guides me to kiss each of her breasts in turn. Her nipples harden at the touch of my lips and she lets out soft moans of pleasure. When she carries my face down her body, Caroline uncoils her legs and spreads them wide. Her sex is a beautiful, exotic orchid. I stare at her; totally mesmerised. Hunger for her body courses through me in a raging flood, yet when I kiss her damp, ozone fragrant lips I do not use my tongue. 

Caroline arches her back and gasps. She wants me to go on, but the mentor in the back of my brain tells me once again that the time is not right. I raise my eyes and look up over the exquisite swoop and curve of her young body to her face. Her woman-scent fills my nostrils. Her eyes are burning beacons. "Thank you, James. That was so wonderful!" she murmurs, "take me home now."

I park the car about 150 metres along the street from her house. The houses are close together and to the sidewalk; old but generally well looked after. It would not be wise to park right outside her place. The rain has stopped completely now. Caroline opens her door quickly, letting a blast of cold air into the cabin. She leans across and kisses me on the cheek. Her lips are warm and oh so soft, "Thank you for everything, James," she breathes.

I watch her slim body as she walks away. I now know why I stopped for her in the first place – it is the loose, graceful way she moves.

Caroline does not look back, not even when she gets to her front door and fits the key into the lock. She disappears inside. I groan and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. The night has been highly charged with drama and emotion. I feel completely drained, exhausted. I know have lost something very precious, forever. My mind churns out of control, examining every priceless memory of her. Despair washes over me. I have let the moment slide by. If I try to see Caroline again, to wait yearning for her on her route home like some gauche, pimply teenager, she will probably laugh at me and walk on.




Chance Encounter



There is a sharp 'rap, rap, rap' on the window glass. I raise my head and open my eyes expecting to see a cop, with his gun loosened in its holster checking out some drunk asleep in his car with the headlights off but the motor still running. It is Caroline. She is holding a small suitcase. At some time in the midst of my misery I must have tripped the door locks. I release them and lean across to let her in.

She looks radiant, "How did I know you would still be here…?" She smiles as I take the case from her and put it on the back seat. She has changed her clothes, her outer garments at least.

Through the whirling fog in my mind I hear myself saying: "Your father?"

"Oh, he was totally out of it in his Lay-Z-Boy. I tried to wake him, but he didn't even recognise that I was there. I left him a note to say that I'm okay. But I doubt if he'll even know that I've gone."

We look at each other in silence for a long time. Finally she murmurs softly, "I am not looking for a sugar-daddy, or substitute for my father. I will pay rent. If it's not okay could you please drop me off at a motel?"

I can hardly speak from the emotion surging through me: "And I am not looking for a carbon copy of my wife. I loved her deeply, but she is gone. If it's alright with you, I'd like to take you home."

Caroline reaches and moves the automatic shift into 'Drive'.

She says that she will pay rent, but I know that I will not allow her to. I will find her work with people I trust so that she does not feel dependent on me. Yes, I know that our relationship will most likely come to an end when she starts her university studies and mingles in that hothouse environment with young, intelligent, sexy men of her own age. But until then I shall be in paradise. May God help me to behave like an adult when that time arrives!

Epilogue

Soft murmurs of passion, delight and love are the only sounds to break the silence. Two naked bodies, slick with sweat, coil and writhe in the dim light of the bedside lamp, couple, climax ecstatically, explore, discover, re-arouse then couple again. For the gallant knight and his princess, the rest of the world no longer exists.



Chance Encounter



"Okay, last call done, I'll write this down and go have a drink!" she thinks as she leaves the shop quietly muttering and checking that she has all of her paperwork. She hardly notices the bustling crowds around her as she heads for the crossing to her car. She hates this shop, she has to park so far away, then make 2 trips to the shop to do the stock.

"Crossing this road without getting hit by some idiot, is a feat in itself." she thinks as she approaches the crossing. "Cars just don't stop here unless there's a crowd both sides and one adventurous person takes the first step onto this notorious road to lead the crowds across."

She sighs as she reaches the curb and realizes she's the only one on her side, with only one on the other side as well. She checks her paperwork again as she waits for more people to join her. All checked and okay, she looks up to see how many are on the other side.

There's only two there, the woman who was there before and one guy. She looks around to see how many are now on her side, then almost spins her head off to look across the road as the image of the guy on the other side of the road sinks into her consciousness.

"Woah! Hello there tall dark and fuckable!!" she thinks as she stares straight at him and thanks the Lord she still has to wait for others to join her at the crossing so she can take in the sight of the Latino God opposite her. She can't help but stare at him, watching him look down to check the time on his pocket watch. A few wisps of his long and wavy jet black hair fall across his face as he looks down, causing him to flick his head back again and look up, straight into her dreamy eyes.

He smiles a beautiful sexy smile, flashing his glistening white teeth as he reaches to remove the hair tie that holds his black mane back in a ponytail. She watches him as he shakes his hair out, then pulls it back and ties it up again. He's looking at her, the whole time smiling, looking just like one of the Chippendales as they look at a woman whilst dancing in front of them. Her mind fills with images of this man grabbing his collar and ripping his form fitting business suit in half to reveal a rippling tanned and toned body beneath it. He looks at his watch again, then reaches for his collar, causing her to gasp, only to loosen his tie. She sighs, ridiculously she feels, at her disappointment.

Suddenly she feels the crowd behind her begin to move onto the road, pushing past her, causing her to start walking as well. She feels in a dreamlike state as she walks and watches him step down from the kerb. They walk straight toward each other and she watches his every movement. He smiles as she gets nearer and slows down to almost a stop as they're about to walk into each other. Then he takes a side step and puts his arm out to go around her waist. Effortlessly on his part, willingly on hers, he turns her around to walk with him back to where she'd started on the other side.

Not a word is spoken as he leads her at the waist, down the street to a small bar. She sees a look of recognition on the barman's face as they approach together. Without a word, the barman places a drink in front of him, then looks to her and says, "And for the Lady?"

"Ummmm, the same thanks." she says, having no idea what the drink is. He hands her the drink and passes the barman $10.00 before leading her away without waiting for change. They stop near a guy playing the piano and she takes a sip of her drink, coughing as she realizes it's simply ice water. She takes another sip and clear her throat before saying,

"By the way, my name's..."

He places his finger over her lips to silence her and nods toward the piano player, he obviously wants her to listen. The piano player looks up, smiles at him and nods as he changes the tune and starts to sing a soft melody she doesn't recognize. He finishes his drink and puts his hand out to her. She finishes her drink and take his hand so he can lead her to the dance floor.

"Jesus, who is this guy?" she thinks to herself. "Everyone knows him and what he wants. In fact she thinks she knows what he wants too, or at least she hopes she knows..."

He dances close to her, but not so close that their bodies touch, which begins to frustrate her. He's so aloof, still hasn't said a word, yet makes her feel good, as well as pretty damned horny! Finally he pulls her closer and she feels his breath on her neck and ear. It's all too much and she presses herself into him, smelling his musky cologne as you rests her head against him. Almost simultaneously they both push their hips forward and she feels something hard pressing into her. She smiles to herself, realizing she'd guessed right about what he wanted. She looks up at him smiling, he smiles back and stops dancing, leading her away again. He leads her to some stairs and takes her to the top, then through a doorway. They enter a large office with floor to ceiling glass behind the large desk. Together they walk to the viewing window and look down to the bar below, the pianist still playing and crooning, people moving about.

He leaves her at the window, takes off his jacket and tie, then sits in the large leather chair behind the desk, then turning it around to face her. She turns to face him and leans back against the handrail along the window. She watches him smile at her and raise his finger in front of his face. He lowers his finger, pointing toward her feet. She knows what he's saying and thinks he's pretty arrogant, but looking him up and down she knows he can afford to be.

Looking straight into his eyes, she starts to slowly undo her shirt, lingering at each button. She finds the look he's giving her pleasing, which makes her decide he's gonna get a show he won't forget. Her buttons undone, she reaches behind herself to undo the button on her slacks, then the zip. Moving her hips from side to side, she hooks her thumbs into the waist of her slacks and shimmies them down over her hips to the floor.

For some reason she suddenly realizes she no longer has her paperwork and panics, until she sees it on the desk. Obviously always thinking, he leans forward and undoes her shoes for her. Then he takes them off her, at the same time slipping her slacks over her feet to get them off and put them to aside.

Her legs free, she leans back again with her feet apart. She looks down on herself in her open blouse and thankfully her new bra and undies. She remembers the window behind her and glances back at it, is it one way? she wonders. It's tinted, it must be the film on it so you can't see in. Feeling better, she pushes the blouse off her shoulders and lets it drop so she stands there only in her lingerie.

She looks at him with her wickedest grin and crooks her finger at him, beckoning him to her. He quickly turns away to get something from his drawer, then turns back and rolls his chair towards her. She put a foot on each arm of the chair and sits up on the handrail. He sits back in the chair, playing with the scissors he took from the drawer. She moves one foot to his leg and gently slides it up his thigh to the hard and sizeable lump in his pants.

She lowly runs her toes along it's length as she reaches around to undo her lace bra and let her ample breasts spill free. She continues to rub his shaft through his pants with her foot and feels it get harder as he cups her breasts in her hands and lifts them to her mouth to softly lick and kiss them.

He pushes her foot back to rest on the arm of the chair again, then leans forward and slips the blade of the scissors under the band of her panties. He cuts one side then the other, then peels the front down from her soaked pussy to expose her neatly trimmed bush. It's only when the cool air touches her pussy, that she realizes just how wet she actually is. He smiles as he looks at her glistening pussylips and moves forward in his chair.

She gasps as his soft lips brush against her sex, and she grips the rail with her hands as she leans back against the glass. She feels his wet tongue, starting at her perineum and making one long slow lick along the length of her moist puffy lips. She gets an extra charge as she looks at the people below who look up to the window occasionally, not knowing what's going on behind it. She thinks to herself, "Imagine if they could see us, what a buzz that would be...!"

She feels his warm hands stroking her thighs and gently pushing them further apart to make her now steaming pussy more accessible to his magic tongue. She rocks precariously on the rail, with only the window stopping her from falling back. The shaky position and the thought of all the people just below them, just add to the thrill of the whole situation, and she feels a familiar tingle begin to emanate in her pussy. Regardless of her shaky position, she can't help but reach down to hold her pussy open to his mouth. Obviously pleased with her movements, he pushes his face harder into her pussy, his tongue pushing inside her and his nose rubbing over her clit.

Within seconds of him starting his hungry assault on her pussy, she feels it begin, giant butterflies frantically flapping inside her. A heat that starts from between her legs, slowly building up and spreading through her stomach and outwards, causing her to tense. Her legs shudder as her whole body trembles and she doesn't feel she can hold herself open enough for his hungry mouth and skilful tongue. She thrusts forward hard, forcing his face tight against her throbbing pussy. She feels his strong warm hands grip her are, supporting her as he pulls her to him and she explodes in an incredible and intense orgasm into his mouth.

She feels her cum juices pour from her like a waterfall onto his face, and she lets go of herself to hold his head and grind herself into him, moaning loudly. He continues to lap furiously at her pussy, drinking her copious sweet juices and probing his tongue into her hot hole until she can no longer cope with the sensation of her continuous multiple orgasms.

"Please, oh please stop! I must have your cock, I want to taste your cock before you FUCK ME HARD!!!"

Still not saying a word, he smiles as he stands and helps her down from the rail, shakily she gets her footing and turns around to sit on the leather chair. He leans back against the rail as she undoes his belt and trousers, then pull them down to find his underpants at eye level with a nice hard bulge in them. She gently runs her fingernails along its length, down to his heavy laden balls. Then she hooks their waist in her fingers and peels his pants away to reveal his rock hard cock.

Not too big and not too small, she estimates around 7 inches and nice and thick and veiny. She slides forward in the chair and sits with her knees wide apart, displaying her swollen wet lips, slightly apart and hungry. She happily sees him watch her as she reaches out for his pulsing member with one hand, while the other reaches down to stroke their fingers along her wet slit. He swells in your hand at the site of your self stimulation, your lids heavy and your eyes rolling back at your own touch.

She licks his balls as she holds his cock straight up and gently strokes its length, her tongue swirling around and around, then drawing them into her mouth one by one. Now it's his turn to grip to the rail with his hands, his head falling back and his legs trembling as she slowly licks along the underside of his cock, along the large vein to the tip. She flicks her tongue over the V below the head of his cock, then over and around the head itself. Then she closes her lips around the head of his shaft, his fat knob in her mouth as she runs her tongue around again and sucks, tasting his salty precum as it leaks from the eye.

She lets go of the head with her lips and licks all over his cock to make the whole thing wet and slippery. She has him clamped at the base with her thumb and index finger in a ring around it, then slowly slides them up and down to ensure it's slippery enough. Clamping her lips around the head again, she begins to suck hard, drawing him into her mouth. Her lips glide along his length, while her teeth gently scrape along beneath them, slowly taking his length into her mouth and to the back of her throat, until she has him almost all the way inside.

Then she slides back again until the head plops out of her mouth, looking up at him with a sexy smile as her tongue reaches out to lick the head again. She closes her lips over the head once more and slowly slides down again until it reaches the back of her throat. There she stops and looks up at him through dreamy eyes as she gently pushes forward so the head sinks further down her throat. He lets out a low gutteral moan, the first sound she's heard him make, as she breathes through her nose and squeezes his cock head with her throat while her tongue licks the underside of his shaft. She slides back up until just the head's in her mouth, then does it again. She feels him tense and she grips the base of his cock as she takes him out of her mouth. "Not just yet," she says, "I want that cock inside me first!"

He reaches down to help her up, then with his hands on her arse and her arms around his neck, he lifts her up and turns her around. He places her arse on the rail again and she leans back on the glass as she holds her legs up at the knees. Then she takes a short breath as he pushes the fat head of his cock against her tight opening. She feels him push past her tight wet opening and she lets go of her legs, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He feels so hard and big as she grips him with her cunt muscles and his entire length easily slips into her hot wet hole. He grabs her arse and lifts her off the rail, only to have her slide back down his shaft to the hilt. She's already cumming, having another intense orgasm as he lays her back onto the big desk.

"Aaaaaaaagh Godddd! That's so good!" she coos as he starts to thrust into her. Her legs splaying out wide on the desk as he grabs her hips and thrusts into her so deeply.

"Oh God YES!!" She yells as she tries to push against him whilst squeezing and pulling at her own rock hard nipples. He thrusts harder into her, almost viciously as she feels yet another climax building deep inside her.

She feels his hand move to her pussy and his fingers begin to squeeze and tease her clit.

"NnnnnnGggghhhhh!!!" she groans, legible words no longer being an option as her body begins its powerful spasms yet again.

He holds her legs out at the ankles and she grips the sides of the desk with her hands as he pounds into her and his balls continuously slap against her arse. They both groan loudly as she begins to feel his cock twitch and swell inside her. She knows he's close now and she tightens her cunt muscles as tight as she can, sending him over the edge. He thrusts hard into her and their bodies grind together as she feels the first jet of his cum squirt deep inside her.

"OH FUCK!!!" he yells as she goes over the edge again, making them cum together.

She reaches down and grabs his arse as he fills her with his beautiful hot spunk, and she cums on his cock, both of them trembling uncontrollably.

She basks in the afterglow of their torrid lovemaking and her head rolls to one side to watch the people moving about below them. Laughing she says, "Hahaha, imagine if they could've seen us..."

He looks at her smiling and says, " Yeah, just imagine that..."

"So you do speak then?" she says.

"Only when necessary," he replies, "and I have to speak at a meeting in 15 minutes, so I'd better be getting ready now."

She sits up on the edge of the desk, olds him by the face and gives him a long deep kiss, then says, "Thank you, I had a wonderful time."

"As did I," he replies smiling, then turns to get his clothes. "You can shower in there if you wish," he says pointing toward a door.

"Thanks," she says, "but I'll just throw my things on and get going, I'm late for a meeting myself."

"Ok then, goodbye and thank you so much," he says as he disappears through another door.

She hurriedly throws her things on and grabs her paperwork, does a quick brush of her hair and leave the room where she came in. She skips down the stairs and briskly walks past the bar until she hears the barman call her, "Miss!"

She looks back to see him bearing a huge grin, "A complimentary refreshment before you leave Miss?" he asks as he hands her a cool drink.

"Thank you," she says returning his smile as she takes the drink and leans back against the bar. She knocks back the last of her drink and opens her eyes as she does so, seeing the big office windows with the one way glass above you.

There she sees him, clear as day, holding the rail with one hand and blowing her a kiss from the other and waving.

"Imagine if they could have seen us..." she says out loud, laughing and shaking her head as she leaves, feeling a warm wet dribble running down her leg.



Chance Encounter Ch. 01



It is a brisk Fall evening in Pittsburgh. She sits at the bar alone sipping her Zima and reflecting on the long day she had just finished at the office. Her long legs, dressed in sheer black hose, are crossed showing the shapely lines running up to her short black leather skirt. Being blessed with a beautiful bosom, her sheer white silk blouse outlines here generous curves. Her hair is a medium golden brown, falling in soft curls to her shoulders. She has piercing hazel blue eyes, with long thick eyelashes, that can melt the heart of any man. Her lips are luscious and full, carrying the color of a rich red rose. Unaware for the moment of her surroundings she is lost in her thoughts. 

Suddenly she hears the door open behind her and casually turns to see who has come in. That is the moment that will change her life forever. As she slowly turns her head in the direction of the entrance, she notices that he has arrived. He is a tall, muscular, younger man. His hair is a warm auburn brown and his eyes are also a deep brown color. He is dressed in a white tee shirt under a brown leather jacket, stonewashed denim jeans, and brown leather boots. 

He glances quickly around the dimly lit barroom and instantly settles his gaze on her. Their eyes meet and lock in a rich embrace. He leisurely walks across the room never leaving her eyes until he reaches the bar. At this time, his eyes lower to her lovely legs drinking them in, starting at the black stiletto heels and slowly advancing up to the hem of her skirt. Then they follow the lines of her leather skirt and onto her breasts which covered in a lace bra are protruding from her expensive silken blouse. Moving up to her lips he immediately wants to kiss them but knows it is much too soon for that. He raises his eyes fully now and peers into the depths of hers seeing her beauty both inside and outside. 

Asking if he may sit next to her she waves her delicate hand for him to take the seat. Sitting down he motions for the bartender to come over. The bartender advances toward them and asks what he'll be having tonight. He looks at Angel and asks if he can buy her another drink and she says, "Yes, thank you." The drinks are brought over and placed in front of them. They sit and chat for a while flirting and laughing. There is an immediate chemistry noticed by both parties. They feel so comfortable with each other. He notices that when she laughs heartily her skirt shift up a little bit each time. Not being able to contain his desire to touch her gorgeous legs he reaches out and lowers his hand to just above her knee, looking up to see some sign of consent, she nods, and he rests his hand there on her perfect knee. She lets out a little sigh of approval. He inches up her thigh, each time searching her face for an inclination that it is appreciated, every time getting the same nod. Soon he reaches the hem of her skirt and slips his hand under and moves upward. When he comes to her panty line, he looks once again into her eyes, this time seeing the hunger growing there he needs no more approval. He slips his fingers inside the thong and finds her awaiting slit, moist with the dew from her passion. She moans a little louder than she expects as he pushes his finger inside of her. 

They both seem to notice at the same time that the bartender is standing just gaping at them. Giggles escape both of them and they immediately straighten themselves. The bartender is embarrassed at his being caught staring and turns his back to them. The stranger asks, "Would you care to go outside for a walk." She hastily answers, "Oh, yes I would." He helps her down from her seat and takes her hand. She takes the lead with him following behind her. This affords him the opportunity to watch her graceful legs moving deliciously under her skirt and the slight wiggle in her walk. He is mesmerized by her beauty and the graceful way she moves. He follows her out the door and into the crisp night air.

They enter into the night, ablaze with stars in the sky and a cool crisp breeze. Walking hand in hand thru the array of cars parked here and there she feels the coolness in the air hardening her nipples. He looks over at her and noticing this phenomenon taking place and it instantly renews his erection. Stopping short he twirls her toward him, pulling her into his body. He grabs her ass in his big hands and shoves her into his hard cock, letting out a moan as her soft pussy makes contact with his stiff shaft. She whimpers in his ear and that sets him on fire. 

Hearing her soft moans is too much for his already blazing libido to handle. He presses her up against a car and reaching under her knee he brings her leg up to his side, then wraps it around him. Looking into her eyes, he kisses her passionately and hungrily pressing his tongue deep into her mouth. She gently sucks on his tongue, tasting him for the first time. Her hands are running up over his chest and over his shoulders. She grazes his back with her nails, working her way down to his tight ass. Grabbing his cheeks in her little hands she pushes him into her again, feeling his erect cock against her hot pussy. They both let out another moan as he picks her up and sits her atop the hood of the car. He gently lays her back and pushes her skirt up to her waist exposing her long luscious legs and the little thong she is wearing already darkening with her moisture. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of her panties he pulls them off of her and bringing them up to his nose inhales deeply. 

Her musky aroma fills his nostrils and he gets drunk with her essence. Crumpling the thong in his hand, he slips it into his pocket for future pleasures. Standing there smiling he takes in her beautiful, glistening pussy already coated with her juices. He moves in and lifts her legs over his shoulders pushing her pussy up to him. He bends down and separating her moistened lips with his fingers he takes one long lick, starting at her rose bud asshole right up to her swollen and hardened clit. She lets out a loud moan which heightens his excitement for her. Arching her back brings her hips up to meet him and her hands are entwined in his hair gently pushing him deeper into her pussy. He is so intoxicated with her scent and the juices that are freely flowing from her cunt. Lapping and nipping at her clit, he brings her to a furious climax. He does this over and over again, each orgasm seemingly stronger than the last. She is moaning and whimpering at him, even shouting at one point, "Oh lover, suck me harder, make me cum on your face." 

When he is sure that she has had sufficient orgasmic pleasure he lifts her down off of the car, kissing her with a mouthful of her nectar. She eagerly drinks from his lips, savoring her own juices. He removes his jacket and lays it down on the ground at his feet, then looking into her eyes he gently pushes her down to her knees. Eager to please this dark stranger she drops to her knees before him. She unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants never leaving his gaze with her eyes. Pulling his pants down she releases his thick hard cock from its prison. It springs out of his pants and stands at attention pointing at her face. She smiles wickedly at him and he nods at her this time. Taking the long shaft into her hands she lifts it and licks at his balls. He lets out a very loud moan and this encourages her to delve further. Sucking his balls into her mouth, she begins to slowly stroke his cock. 

She then begins a long lick from his balls up the underside of his shaft along the bulging vein and right up to his swollen tip. Here she licks away all of his pre cum and nibbles at the head, opening his slit with her tongue. This drives him wild with desire. He grabs her hair and entwining his fingers in her long curls he pushes her into his cock. She sucks him all the way in, all the way down to the back of her hot wet throat. He cries out with sheer animalistic pleasure. She tightens her lips around his cock and glides him up and down, in and out of her throat, grazing him with her teeth. Stopping at his big purple head nibbling on it, then ramming him down deep again. She continues to pump him in and out, up and down, her head bobbing on his hard member, until he spurts his hot cum into her mouth, filling her, feeding her. She moans with delight at the taste of this stranger's hot seed coating the inside of her mouth and throat. Holding some of it in her mouth she rises to her feet and kisses him allowing him the same pleasure of tasting himself as he had done for her earlier.

His orgasm was a hard one but he is still not completely satisfied yet, he has to feel his cock deep inside her hot, wet, tight pussy. He turns her around and placing her over the hood of the car he spreads her legs wide with his knee. She pushes her ass up to him allowing her pussy to peek out at him. Running his cock up and down her slit moistening it for insertion, he feels it getting harder and more erect. He stops at her hole and holds it there for a moment before plunging it deep inside of her. She lets out a guttural moan and grinds back against him driving him deeper into her cunt. In and out of her pussy he pumps as she pushes at him and the two of them are in heaven for a time. 

Smacking at her ass he grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her head back towards him, riding her so hard and fast. She cries out, "Oh, fuck me harder, fuck my wanton cunt". Grinding, pushing, pumping, slamming in and out of her hot tight cunt, until they both cum so hard and furiously. Feeling his balls tighten once again, he rams her one final time spewing his hot seed deep inside her womanhood. Splashing her inner walls and filling her with his creamy thick cum he feels her tighten around him, sucking him dry with her tight pussy muscles. When they are both totally spent, he lets her up and turns her around. He pulls her skirt back down around her hips and smiles into her eyes, she smiling back. They both know that this is a one-time meeting and that they will never see each other again. But it is enough that they had this one brief, chance encounter. He bows to her, kissing her hand, then turns and walks away. She watches him leave, knowing that her life will be forever changed by this stranger of the night.



Chance Encounter Ch. 01



Dear Readers,

This is a sequel to a story that I wrote some time ago, "The End of Summer". It is written in such a way that you can enjoy it without reading its predecessor. If you could read the first part, however, it would enhance the experience of the second. 

************* 

He didn't know what he was doing in the department store, looking at men's shirts, but not really interested. Paul hated stores, but he hated airports more. It was just something to kill the time before leaving for Midway Airport. He had his overnight bag over his shoulder and briefcase in his hand. He looked around for a coffee shop as a place to change gears. Not finding one, he turned his attention back to the displays. 

The meeting hadn't gone as well as Paul expected. The contractor was supposed to be ready and the state regulators should have been on board. There were still a lot of loose ends and loose cannons. No one had done their homework. It would mean more commutes to Chicago than he had planned on. It's not that he disliked the Windy City; he enjoyed it. The restaurants were the best; the population the friendliest. It was easier to root for the Bears than the hapless Lions. It was the commute that irritated him: the puddle-jumper from Saginaw, the switch in Detroit, the taxi ride from O'Hare or Midway to downtown Chicago.

"Comes with the job," he thought to himself. "I asked for it—I got it!"

He went back to searching through rows of shirts. He knew that he wasn't going to buy anything; he was just going through the motions. He was doing that a lot more than he would like, lately. That's why he sought the job he had. There was no going through the motions in it. After Sally's death five years ago he needed something to dive into. This position was just the ticket, and he was well-qualified, too.

There was a voice in the background. At first, he didn't acknowledge it because he hadn't expected any strangers to call him by name. When the sound drifted from his subconscious to the front of his brain, he quickly turned toward the source.

"Paul—Paul Crane?" the voice called out.

A woman, about his age, looked at him expectantly. She was thin, wore glasses. She had red hair with a few gray streaks in it. Some might say that she was a little plain-looking, but certainly neat and well-put-together. She looked vaguely familiar.

"You don't recognize me—it's Glenda Mahoney!"

Paul's first reaction was 'who in hell is Glenda Mahoney?', but a voice from his youth was shouting in the distance. Paul's mind's eye was driven back to a hot summer afternoon many years ago.

"Glenda! I don't believe that I'm looking at you. What are doing here? You look great—it's so nice to see you!" Paul clasped her hand, shocked at the pleasant surprise."

"I'm very happy to see you, Paul. I live in Chicago. I should ask you what you're doing here."

"Commuting," he replied. "I live in Michigan. I work for a chemical company up there. We had a meeting in Chicago today. Right now, I'm just killing time before my flight home. I'd much rather spend it with you going over old times."

"I can't," she told him. "It would be nice if I could, but I'm late getting back to the office already. Maybe if you get back this way ..."

"I'll be here in two weeks for a return meeting. Can I call you then?"

She gave him some information that he wrote in his daybook.

"It was nice seeing you, Paul. I've got to run."

She turned, hurrying out the door. Paul watched her disappear. He had always wondered what had happened to Glenda, the enigmatic girl who initiated him into the world of carnal knowledge in a wooded grove thirty-six years ago. Maybe he would find out.

Paul had no appetite left for shopping. He left the store and caught a cab to the airport.

***************** 

Paul didn't mind the long trip back this time. Seeing Glenda gave him a lot to think about. He dusted off the old memory of his youth. She had followed him into a pine grove, where they lay on a blanket on a hot August afternoon and gave each other their virginities. It was during the summer after they graduated from high school together. After that, they went separate ways. He still didn't know onto which paths Glenda's life had led her.

As the turbo-prop bumped along the clouds, Paul ambled down memory lane. A few days after his encounter with Glenda, he rode off to State University. He played football and studied chemical engineering. He turned out to be pretty good at both. 

Paul still worked for the same company that paid his way through grad school. He was named Vice-President of Engineering a year ago. It was a job that suited him. He had high professional standards; he was determined; he was a good leader.

At fifty-four he didn't have much to do, except his job. The kids were away at college. Five years earlier his wife of twenty-five years, Sally, had been killed by a hit and run driver. The devastating loss had driven him deeper into his work. Aside from that first time with Glenda, Sally had been the only woman he had ever been with. With her gone, no one else knew this. If a person were to speculate on the subject, they would surely arrive at the wrong conclusion. Paul still had good looks and an athlete's physique. His football fame brought celebrity. Those factors, and the casual sex mores of the seventies, would make one assume that Paul had many bed partners during his college years.

That may have been the norm, but for Paul, it just wasn't true. Studies and sports gave him little time for anything else. On top of that, in those days Paul had an introverted, not shy, personality. He was well spoken when called upon, but shunned casual small talk. He parsed and analyzed layers of meaning in every encounter. People respected Paul, but, except for a few close friends, it was hard to get close to him in those days. Sally later helped him out of his shell, without destroying the sincerity that made him the person that he was.

Many around him, including his children, encouraged Paul to search out female companionship after Sally's death. Paul had no interest. He still wore his wedding band five years after the sad event. No one would ever take Sally's place. With her gone, Paul was reverting to some of his old ways. He could not fathom an intimate relationship with emotional limits; the spaces of his deepest emotions were still reserved for Sally. He knew that Sally would be one of those encouraging him. She had always enjoyed sex, and taught Paul to enjoy it, too. 

He could hear her lecture: 'Paul, you still have the looks, the shape, your health and plenty of money. You are only fifty-four years old. Find a woman that wants some fun, and have some fun with her. She doesn't have to be your soul-mate.' Paul knew it was the right advice, but letting go was so hard.

The plane was about to touch down for a landing. It occurred to Paul that by promising to call Glenda when he was in Chicago again he was, technically, asking for a date. He reasoned that she was probably married. He had, then, asked a married woman on a date. He should have thought of that. Clearly, he realized, he wasn't 'dating scene material'. 

************ 

It was noon on a Wednesday. Paul felt the meeting skidding into oblivion. The men from the State Environmental Agency were just not getting the picture; perhaps it was a chosen recalcitrance. All their concerns had been resolved, but the go ahead on the plant was not forthcoming. It was not a complicated project; a plant to produce solvents used in the metals industry. Paul's company had a good environmental record, and the plan passed all the tests, and better. It wasn't even going to be built in Chicago; it was just a good meeting place for all the parties. The site was in a smaller city about one hundred fifty miles to the southwest. The local city fathers were all for the new plant. They desired the new jobs and added tax base. Paul guessed that the State guys just wanted to roll into the Windy City every few weeks for a restaurant tour disguised as a meeting, funded by expense accounts. Springfield was very nice, but it wasn't Chicago.

"Gentlemen, what more data can we give you?" Paul said. "We've satisfied your every request. You're still not in agreement. We have no idea at this point what your acceptance criteria are."

The lead man from the state straightened up. 

"Actually, Mr. Crane, we have asked Dr. Arthur Hopkins from Concerned Scientists of America to consult with us. He won't be available until Monday. Maybe we could adjourn until then."

There it was! One sentence revealed all that months of meetings had left a mystery. It told Paul what he had to do. All the studies, reports and data in the world would not move the mountain until the great Dr. Hopkins had been dealt with.

Arthur Hopkins was the designated spear-chucker for a major competitor of Paul's company. When the new facility went on line, it would give Paul's company a big advantage because of lower transportation costs to the market. It was Hopkins' job to delay, diminish or halt the new plant. He would roll out one study after another that showed some environmental or safety concern. Paul considered Hopkins to be the king of 'junk science.' His only question was whether the State men were in the pocket of the competitor, too, or along for the ride in a 'c-y-a' exercise. Paul thought the later, but kept his mind open on the former.

Hopkins' arrival would have brought sighs of despair from less experienced men. Paul was actually relieved. He saw the end game in sight. He had dealt with Hopkins before. He knew just how to handle him.

After the State men left, Paul spoke to the General Contractor, who had been at the meeting, too. 

"Get the Peoria Mayor and a couple of Council members to the Monday meeting;" Paul ordered. "... and the State Senator from the locale, as well. Brief them—keep them on board. I'll get our research people to free up some resources and get a professor from the University to support us. We'll have that permit soon."

The contractor nodded in agreement. Paul had his plan made. The Peoria folks would put political pressure on the State guys to get off the dime and the University professor would be counterpoint to Hopkins. Paul's staff could roll out studies that would surpass Hopkins' wildest dreams. He knew that the competitor would only pay for Hopkins' fees and studies until the cost of keeping the charade going was more than the costs of lost business. Paul's company could foot the bill, and as a VP, he had the authority to authorize it. It was expensive, but it was worth it to depreciate Hopkins' future value to anyone. 

Paul knew that the process wasn't over in terms of time, but nearly at an end with respect to substance. Hopkins was always the 'last bullet in the chamber'. Paul hated doing business like this. He would have preferred a professional analysis, but he hadn't called the tune. Soon, he thought, he could turn this project over to a subordinate and keep track of it from a distance.

The meeting had been scheduled to go all day. After that, Paul planned a dinner with the contractor and a flight back to Michigan in the morning. 

"Mind if I take a raincheck on the dinner, Paul. These meetings have put me way behind. I could use the time, if that's alright." 

"No problem, Harry." Paul understood perfectly. "Can you drop me at my hotel before you take off?"

When Paul returned to his room he tossed his brief case on the bed. He wasn't even packed because he hadn't planned on the early break. It was past check out time at the hotel, and he knew that he would never book a flight until at least four. He decided to stay overnight.

His promise to Glenda had been nagging him. Her phone number was still in his daybook. Paul had mixed feelings about calling her. Surely, she was married or attached. He had no wish to complicate her life. On the other hand, she had given him her number with no qualifiers. 

"I wish that I knew what all this means," he said out loud in the loneliness of hotel room. There was the reservation at the steakhouse. It would be a shame to waste it without a dinner companion. The worst would be that she would turn him down. Paul decided to make the call.

"Hello, Glenda? Paul Crane speaking. Sorry to call you at work. I'm in Chicago overnight. I thought that I'd call you—like we talked about a few weeks ago. Can you make it to Keefer's at seven-thirty? Eight? Alright—no problem! I'll be there before you. Just ask for me. Great! I'll see you then."

As he hung up the phone, Paul let out a cry of self-disgust and gave a mock slap to his forehead. He had forgotten to ask if it was going to be alright with her husband, or even if she had a husband. To him, it was further confirmation that he should never be allowed to roam unsupervised in civilized society. He wondered if he should call her back. He decided against it. He would make his apologies at the restaurant.

*********** 

Paul was in the restaurant, seated at his table, nursing a scotch-on-the-rocks. He had arrived for his reservation at the appointed seven-thirty. He could have shown up at eight, but Paul hated to be late or renege. He felt that he owed it to the restaurant to show at the stated time. It was a self-imposed, unnecessary burden, but Paul was set in his ways. He didn't mind because the atmosphere was relaxing, and he could hear strains of smooth jazz from the combo playing in the bar. It would be perfect if Sally were there enjoying it with him. 

They wouldn't have wasted the atmosphere with idle chit-chat. If there was nothing to say, there was no point in saying it. She would sip on chardonnay while he savored his scotch. As the band finished a number they would glance at one another, share a comment about the music. The band would resume and they would fall silent again. It was a good feeling to just share the music and relax in the presence of the other. He knew that she felt the same. They needed no words. Time together had allowed them to forge that invisible-to-everyone-else communication.

Eventually they would order their dinners, to the relief of the petulant waiter. Sally would always have fish. Paul knew that part of the reason was that fish was the lowest-priced entree on the menu. They could afford to eat at a fancy restaurant every night if they chose. Sally never gave up that wife-of-grad-student frugality she had perfected in their early days. She always denied it; said that she just liked fish. It annoyed Paul for a time, but then, he realized that she just refused to release her hold on their just-married years together when they taught each other so much.

As he polished off his first scotch and ordered another, Paul reminded himself that he was longing for something in the present that only existed in the past. He relived those happy scenes many times over. It was his only way of touching her. For a person suddenly alone, there is a freedom of the imagination that is the cruelest prison of all. Memory blends into expectation. The past is lived again countless times, each repeat more soothing. It is a stifling comfort. It smothers new beginnings.

"Live your whole life, Paul, not just the first half," he muttered under his breath to himself. He knew that it would be Sally's advice, too, if she were there to give it.

He wished he could simply order himself to follow his own directive, like he did for scores of employees. He would never give up Sally's memory. He groped to find coexistence for the old and new. Like the engineer that he was, he set out to derive the equation that was so elusive. He knew the key variable was his own stubborn self. At any rate, he was convinced that his angst made him unfit company for prospective female friends.

The final thought sprung him from his reverie just in time to spy the maitre d' quickly approaching with Glenda close behind.

************* 

Paul watched as the two approached his table. He thought that Glenda looked sharp. She wore business attire, a navy gabardine suit, with a simple white silk suit sweater underneath. Her clothing was well-tailored to fit her. A small gold lapel pin dotted the blazer. Other than the pin and her watch, she wore no other jewelry. The thinness of her youth had been preserved in her current years. As she drew nearer, he noticed that she wore small wire-rimmed glasses and a few wrinkles around the eyes. A few streaks of gray interrupted her red hair that was straight, cut to a length just above the collar of her blazer. In many ways, Glenda looked like the girl that he had known in his youth. There were differences, too. In a certain way, it was a blending of old and new.

Paul stood as the maitre d' seated Glenda. It was in the chair opposite him, each safe in their proprietary space. Before Paul could speak the waiter approached for Glenda's drink order.

"Vodka and tonic, please," she said.

"Glenda," Paul smiled, truly glad to see her, "where were we before we were interrupted?"

Glenda looked confused, since no conversation had yet started. Then the double entendre of his question dawned on her and she burst into laughter. Paul laughed too, a little surprised that his joke went over as well as it did.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Glenda. I just thought that I'd get that out of the way up front. I didn't intend for you to interpret ..."

"Stop apologizing, Paul!" Glenda held up her hand like a traffic cop. "It's a nice memory," she assured him in a quiet voice.

Paul shrugged, and then nodded. Sally would chide him, too, when he took things too seriously. Paul had more apologizing to do, so he plunged in to get it over with.

"Glenda, I invited you without thinking about how it might effect your ..." Paul searched for the right word, "current relationships."

Glenda smiled laughingly and shook her head. "None to worry about" she answered. "See?" as she held up her ring-less left hand in proof. "I would have said something when you asked me a few weeks ago, if there was a problem," she continued. "Good old Paul—you were always thinking too much."

There was a short pause, each searching for something to say.

"I see you're married," she broke the silence, looking at Paul's wedding band. "Tell me about her."

"Sally and I were married for twenty-five years," Paul answered. "She was killed five years ago in a traffic accident."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" replied Glenda, and cast her eyes down at the table. 

They said nothing for a time, sipping on their drinks. Paul knew that Glenda felt bad about bringing up Sally. 

"It's alright, Glenda. I think about Sally all the time without anyone's help. Anyway, you had no way to know."

Glenda looked up and gave him a smile. It didn't solve the silence, though. Neither knew how to resume. Paul considered himself at fault. He reminded himself again how unfit he was for any female acquaintanceship. On a more concrete basis, he should have thought to cue her on the subject, or the wearing of his wedding band would be on false pretenses.

"It is a nice memory, isn't it?" Paul offered, trying to reset at the beginning.

"Yes," Glenda replied. "I think about it every once-and-a-while when I'm a little down and I want to make myself feel better." 

That answer was more than Paul had bargained for. It deepened the sweetness of the memory, and implied a continuing familiarity, even if dormant for decades. It brought forth the battle raging in Paul's spirit—between the longing for the isolation of grief and the natural desire for one human being to touch another. 

In the past, Paul would have fled to that convenient closet of sadness. He thought that perhaps the time had come to cease retreating. He would not, however, charge out in a single bold step. He decided to scout ahead and test the terrain for safety.




Chance Encounter Ch. 01



"Here's to nice memories!" Paul proclaimed as he lifted his glass. Glenda raised hers too, touching his gently.

"What about you?" Paul changed the subject. "What's happened to you during all these years?" 

"I was hoping to talk awhile about what happened on a blanket in the woods a long time ago, Paul. It would be a better story." She looked at him with a question in her eyes that asked how much he really wanted to know.

When Paul didn't answer Glenda drew a deep breath and swallowed the rest of her vodka. 

"If you really want to hear this, then you better order me another drink."

************** 

"About six weeks after you went off to college, my mother and I moved out here to Chicago. I wanted to enroll in secretarial school, but she asked me to go with her. It was just to be a short stay at first. My Aunt Margaret was ill. Everyone in the family thought that my mother should be the one to come out and stay with her because my father had recently passed away. They must have thought that she couldn't have had anything better to do. Mother didn't know how to say 'No!' We thought that we were only committed until the beginning of the New Year. I guess that I couldn't say "No!" either. Anyway, by the time the next Easter rolled around, it was clear that we were here to stay."

A fresh round of drinks arrived. Paul ordered a steak. Glenda had the same.

"I got a job as a receptionist," Glenda continued. "It wasn't great, but it paid the bills."

"Aunt Margaret passed away that July. Mother felt like the 'Angel of Death'; first my father, then Aunt Margaret. The family seemed to avoid her after that. It was so unfair. They recruited her to give up her home to look after my aunt in her final days, and then dropped her like a hot potato. It wasn't long before Mother's health started sliding, too. I know that she felt empty. My brothers were hardly ever to be found. She died about four years later. I think that she just got too tired and lonely."

"I didn't know your mother very well," Paul said, "but I'm sorry."

Glenda raised her hand to stop him.

"The story's just getting started!" she warned. Paul shrugged and motioned for her to proceed.

"Not long after that I found a receptionist job at a better company. I still had dreams of going to secretarial school. I was only twenty. I found a new boyfriend, too. Pretty soon I was pregnant. We decided to get married—big mistake. Halfway through, he changed his mind and made me get an abortion. It was a back-street job in the days just before Roe and they botched it. I ended up in Emergency, hemorrhaging. I found out that there would be no more pregnancies. My soon-to-be 'ex' said that he didn't want a wife who could never have kids. I think that he just wanted an excuse. I don't know where he is now."

"It took me while to recover, and I lost my job. I was broke for awhile, but someone is always looking for a receptionist. Three years later, I got married again. It didn't work out. I was a two-time loser at the age of twenty-nine."

"The second divorce had a better settlement, though. It paid my way through secretarial school. After that, I found a job at Northwestern University. It's actually not far from here. I've been there ever since—nearly twenty-five years. I worked hard. For the past four years, I've been secretary to the Dean of the Law School. That's why I had to be late tonight. I was helping him get ready for a presentation. I came here right from work."

As she finished, their entrees arrived. The waiter set them on the table. 

Paul had listened in near disbelief to her biography.

"That's an amazing story, Glenda," Paul said. "You've been through a lot of hardship. I don't see a trace of self-pity." 

"I left that part out," she joked as she cut a forkful of steak. "You're the one with the amazing story. It was easier to keep track of you. We would see your name in the paper when you were playing football. I even learned something about the game. My mother would always give me the 'if only' routine every time your name was in print."

"Little did she know ..." Paul chimed in. They both laughed and Glenda rolled her eyes. "Then it was in all the papers," Glenda continued, "how you refused to go into the pro football draft—because you wanted to be an engineer. That sounds like a storybook!"

"Ancient history!" declared Paul, waving his hand dismissively. 

"Well, what's the rest?" Glenda demanded.

"I've been lucky—except for Sally passing away. We have a daughter and a son. One is in grad school at Michigan State. The other is an undergrad at Marquette. They're both great kids! When I graduated from State a chemical company hired me. First they sent me to grad school in New York State. That's where Sally and I met. I've worked for them ever since. We've lived in many places—even overseas a couple of times. I work now in the headquarters in Michigan. That's probably where I'll be until I retire."

Paul stopped speaking and Glenda nodded to acknowledge that the biography had concluded. It was only then that they noticed the sweet sounds of the jazz combo leaking "Stardust" from the bar into the dining room. 

"What do you think of the band?" Glenda asked. "It gives a nice ambience to the place, don't you think?"

They listened silently for a few moments.

"I think that the piano player needs a stronger left hand." said Paul.

"Just listen and enjoy!" Glenda scolded, laughing. Paul started laughing, too. 

Paul obeyed. They finished their dinners. They ordered dessert. Normally, he would pass and just have a coffee. The mood hit him right, however, and he indulged himself. 

"Glenda," he began, "I don't want to embarrass you, but I have to tell you something."

She looked up from her raspberry torte and waited for the rest. Paul didn't continue.

"Well, what did you want to say that would embarrass me?" she said, eyebrows furled.

"Only this," he said, taking a deep breath. "It hasn't been since Sally died that I've had as much pleasure dining out as I've had so far tonight. Thanks for coming out with me!"

The words made Glenda drop her fork loudly to her plate. Her expression changed. Before Paul made his utterance, she had the look of someone preparing to return humorous repartee. After the pronouncement she had the helpless look of a person touched, by complete surprise. Finally, she gathered herself for a reply.

"Paul, you are so nice to say that!" she said softly, looking him squarely in the eye. "How could you think that you would embarrass me?" Paul shrugged; himself a little sheepish. 

"It really hurt you when you wife was killed. It hurts you now," she continued. "I'm so sorry."

Paul looked down at the table for a second, then back up at Glenda.

"When a person dies," he began "there's a finite amount of pain associated with it. It's shared by all the people involved. If it is a long slow death, the person dying suffers most. The loved ones are spared the bulk of it because they have a chance to prepare. When it's the other way around, the balance is reversed. The suffering is left for those who remain behind."

"Someday, you've got to let it go," Glenda said.

"I feel better right now having said it. It's something that I didn't realize was inside me until this moment; but I know now that it's true," Paul said. "I'm sorry to unload it onto your shoulders."

Glenda gave her hand a little wave, to make light of the supposed burden. 

"Now I'll embarrass you with something," she said, her face brightening. "When I found out that you're single, and you saw that I'm single, too—and considering our history—I was just waiting for you to make a move to get me into bed tonight. After a while, I knew that I didn't have to worry. It made the dinner a lot more enjoyable. Thank you, Paul. You're a nice man!" 

"Now I am embarrassed!" he said, with a red face. "It's been a long time for me. I wouldn't know how to go about it, even if it had been my plan."

They laughed on it for a few moments.

"It's been a long time for me, too, Paul. The last man that I was in bed with was my second ex-husband—before he was my 'ex'."

They were ready to leave; Paul asked the maitre d' to call a cab.

"Where's your car?" he asked her. 

"I left it back at Northwestern," she answered. "If it's alright with you, I think we can have the taxi drop you at your hotel and then take me home. I'll leave my car in the lot overnight and take the 'L' in tomorrow."

"It was a splendid dinner, Paul, and so elegant. If I didn't know that you're on an expense account, I would offer to pay Dutch Treat," she joked. 

"I could put it through," he answered, "but I'm not going to. It would take away part of the pleasure."

As the cab pulled up to the hotel Paul turned to Glenda. "Would you mind if I were to call you again?" He gave the cabbie a fifty and told him to take her where she told him.

"I'll mind a lot if you don't!" she proclaimed.

************* 

On Friday, two days later, it was late morning and Paul was in his office waiting for a call from Harry Carmichael, the general contractor on the Peoria job. While he waited he thought about Glenda.

He had been thinking about her a lot since their dinner two nights before. Their time together had been surprisingly pleasant. Paul decided that there was a lot to like about her. She was like Sally in some ways, but quite different in others. 

While Sally would have sipped white wine and eaten baked fish, Glenda was knocking down vodka and tying into a steak. If Sally had ever tried to drink three vodkas, she would have needed a stretcher to get out of the restaurant. Glenda looked like she could have handled one or two more.

Glenda was like Sally in that she didn't let Paul's serious side get to her—and didn't let it get to Paul, either. Paul liked that. He respected what Glenda had done with her life, after starting out with so much against her. He meant what had said in the restaurant about her not showing any self-pity. That meant a lot to Paul. He liked the way that she looked him in the eye and said what was on her mind. She could laugh and joke with him, one-on-one. Then, in an instant, she could release her sweet feminine side as needed. At the right time, she would sit quietly while Paul poured himself out on her, with neither judgment nor retort. Paul decided that he wanted Glenda as a friend. It was new for him to have a woman as a friend. 

The phone rang. Paul's secretary announced that Harry was on the line.

Paul: Hello Harry, everything lined up for Monday?

Harry: Good news and bad, Paul. The guys in Peoria are behind us, but can't get to Chicago on Monday; same with the State Senator. The good new is that the local Chamber and AFL-CIO want to get behind us, too. 

Paul:Harry, this will work out just fine. I'm going to stay away from the meeting on Monday. I'll send Jim Spencer in my place. I don't want Hopkins to think that I'm all excited just because he's showing up. Spencer needs the experience, anyway, and whatever Hopkins has got, Jim can figure it out just as well as I could. We'll let Hopkins talk to the wall. We'll lower the boom in the next go-around.

Harry:Sounds good to me, Paul. I was worried before I spoke to you, but I feel better now. I'll let you know how it goes.

Paul's decision to skip the Monday meeting made him change his plans on seeing Glenda. He was wondering if it would have been too soon for a follow-up date, anyway. He pressed the intercom button and spoke to his secretary.

"Marge, please ask Jim Spencer to step into my office, and then see if you can book me into that Chicago seminar next Friday."

************ 

It wasn't a very original date idea. Paul always went with what worked. The dinner the week before turned out so well, so he asked Glenda to dinner again at the same place. He had called her Tuesday and she happily agreed.

He waited for her at the bar sipping a scotch. He barely heard the band playing softly at the opposite end of the room. Waiting for Glenda to arrive, Paul looked forward to being with her again. He thought about Sally, and tried to coax himself into feeling guilty. He thought that he heard Sally's voice in the background. Paul expected to hear her sad and melancholy, or jealous at the appearance of a challenger. Paul was wrong. Sally's voice was happy and lilting, whispering to his subconscious: "Yes, Paul! Go for it!" 

He saw Glenda walk in. He caught her eye and motioned her over. She had a nice look, just as the week before, but it was more suited to nightlife than her business apparel of the week before. She wore a white blazer, and under it a navy dress with small white dots. The dress dropped to mid-calf, and was full at the bottom. The neckline was cut in a vee, but not immodestly. It had some small pleats about the collar that gave it a full appearance and looked more dressed up. She wore a pearl necklace that sat on her collarbone. 

Paul stood as she approached his place at the bar. A broad smile emblazoned her face. Paul detected a hint of perfume. 

"Glenda, you really look very nice," he told her honestly.

"Well, Paul, this time you gave me a few days' notice so I had a chance. I changed at work before I left."

Paul's chest expanded slightly at Glenda's taking pains to look good for her date with him. It was a nice feeling that he had almost lost the memory of. It became a door opener. He decided to allow himself the indulgence of emotion, if any came his way. 

"We can get our table now, if you're ready," he told her.

"Let's stay here for a while," Glenda said. "I'm not ready for a big dinner yet, and the band sounds so nice."

Paul picked up his drink from the bar and they found a nearby booth. He motioned the waitress over.

"Vodka and tonic, right?"

"No, not tonight," she answered. "I'm ready for a change. I think that I'll have an Old Fashioned."

Paul ordered the drinks and asked the waitress to bring them a shrimp cocktail, as well. 

"I think that I'm ready for a change, too," Paul said. Glenda sat at attention. 

"Last week I found myself manipulating my schedule so that I could make this date," he continued. "After I did, I found myself really looking forward to it. I was thinking about Sally, too. Perhaps I should have felt guilty but I just couldn't. I didn't feel like I was leaving her behind, either. It just felt alright."

In the dim light of the barroom booth it was hard for Paul to detect Glenda's expression. Her silence over the next ten seconds told him everything. Paul had assumed that she would welcome an arrangement between them. They had gotten on so well together; he assumed the next step would be an easy one. That was a mistake. He stifled his disappointment for the time being.

"I think that I know where this is going, Paul," Glenda answered. "I enjoy being with you; I respect and admire you. I just don't know if I'm ready for what I think you're headed for."

The two fell silent, wanting to say more, unsure how to say it.

"I can't take your wife's place," Glenda finally said. "The more I would try, the worse it would be. It wouldn't be right for me to try, either."

"No one could ever take Sally's place for me," Paul said. "She's in me down deep. I've done a lot of thinking about it this past week. I realize that nothing could drive her out of me. I didn't understand that before. I thought that another woman would. I was afraid of being unfaithful to Sally. I'm not afraid of that anymore. There can be a place—an important place—for her and some room for someone else, too."

"Paul," Glenda spoke quietly with a sad look, "do you remember that I told you that I hadn't been with a man since my second husband?" Paul nodded. 

"There's a reason for that." She continued. "When my second marriage broke up, it was devastating. I was alone, in a dead-end job; could never have children; no family to speak of, and few friends. I just couldn't accept ending up that way. My marriages had set me back, not helped me."

Glenda took a gulp of her drink and raised her hands to let Paul know that she had more to say. 

"I decided that I would do something to make my life better, and I did. I vowed that I wouldn't get involved with men. At first, I thought that I would find someone after I had made something of myself. Then, I could come into a relationship with something to offer. I got busy. The years slipped by. One day I realized that I would always be on my own ... permanently."

"Glenda," Paul said, "you've accomplished a lot for yourself. You have every right to be satisfied with what you've done. You have to run your life the way you see fit."

"I like turning my own key—being independent," she said, straightening up. "There are things that I have to give up, too. It's lonely. Sometimes I miss having some romance—and the pleasures that go with romance. I dated a few men. They were nice. They were headed toward something that I couldn't accept for myself; to be taken under their wing, possessed, obligated. I had struggled to free myself. Finally, I gave up and resigned myself to be alone." 

"I have no desire to possess you," Paul assured her. 

"What would want of me, then?" 

"Your friendship ..." he answered. "... as a woman, like you have done over the past few weeks. Maybe I could be a friend to you. I don't want to get remarried, or even move out of my house. I'm at the peak of my career—it means a lot to me. I know for you, it's the same. It would be nice just to be able to know that I have a special friend here in Chicago."

"I have to think about it, Paul. I don't think that I could give up my life. You make it sound so simple. I need to be sure."

"Take your time." Paul answered. "I'm not shopping for bids. This possibility just came along without warning. It has to be right for the both of us."

They fell silent for a few minutes, nursing their drinks. Finally Paul spoke, trying to brighten the mood.

"I got tickets to the Cubs for tomorrow afternoon. I thought that you might like to go."

"Oh Paul!" she exclaimed. "I've never been to see the Cubs—or the White Sox, either. I'm afraid I don't know anything about sports."

"It'll be a learning experience!" he joked. "What do you say?"

"As friends?" she asked.

"Sure, what do you say?"

"Alright, it's a date!" she replied. 

The jazz combo started playing "Autumn Leaves".

"Let's dance!" she commanded.

"That's asking a lot, Glenda,," he protested as she took his hand and dragged him out of the booth. 

"You don't like to dance? Most men don't, but here you are, anyway!" she teased him. 

Paul was glad that the lighter mood between them had returned.

"It was asking a lot to make me go to the baseball game," she said, looking up at him, smiling, "so now we're even."

Paul didn't say much, having to concentrate on holding his own on the dance floor.

"Do you promise not to try to possess me?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"That's what I said," he replied.

"I think that we're two lost souls, trying to be found," Glenda said. "It was like that thirty six years ago in that pine grove. Here we are again in the same way.

"What goes around comes around," Paul replied, not meaning to be glib, but doing so just the same. Glenda was unfazed.

We'll be more than friends, but less than lovers. We'll be 'loving friends'."

"Suits me!" Paul replied. "I don't know what else to say."

"You're supposed to say ..." Glenda leaned closer; whispering to him "... let's go to the hotel room."

As they got into the cab, Glenda turned to Paul and said, "Have him take us to my car at Northwestern. We'll take my car to the hotel. I packed an overnight bag this morning and left it in my trunk."

********** 

As Glenda and Paul stepped into the hotel room Paul placed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside handle. Glenda turned and looked at him with sparkling eyes and an eager smile.




Chance Encounter Ch. 01



It was a tranquil, rather than a frenzied scene. The denial that had hounded them for so long was nearly over. The timing and circumstances were right; nothing would stop them.

Paul set Glenda's small suitcase on the foldout stand, and then turned to her. Glenda shrugged out of her blazer and hung it in the closet. Her bare arms were long, white and thin. To Paul, they looked warm and inviting. Paul removed his own suit jacket and set it aside. 

She stepped toward him and they embraced. 

"It's been a long time," Paul mumbled, unsure of what to say.

"For both of us," she purred, and lifted her face toward his, lips parted.

Paul understood the cue. He kissed her gently, testing her reaction. Glenda responded with a deeper kiss, and she crushed her body into his. She flicked out her tongue and lightly danced it over Paul' lips. 

They kept the kiss alive. Paul reached behind her and slid down the zipper in the back of her dress. As his fingers took hold of the hooks at the top she murmured a playful "uh-uh" into his mouth and then broke the kiss and stepped back.

"I brought something to put on for you, in case we got to this point," she said. "...and it looks like we have," she added with a small laugh. "I just need a few moments in the bathroom. Why don't you get comfortable, and fix us something to drink."

She grasped her suitcase and Paul watched her disappear into the bathroom, the back of her dress unzipped. He was sure that she went in to put on a negligee. He didn't see the need for the ritual, but had no wish to complain and ruin the mood. 

"I'm going out for ice." he called to her.

When Paul returned she was still secured in the bathroom redoubt. He shed his clothes, hanging up the suit and burying the underwear in his empty suitcase. He put on a pair of cotton pajama bottoms. The maid had already turned the bed down. He placed the little chocolates on the nightstand. Paul dropped some ice into two tumblers and poured some scotch from the mini bar into each of them. He turned the lights lower. As he finished the preparations, Glenda emerged from the bathroom.

She wore a black ensemble. The nightie underneath was satin, knee-length, with a deep 'vee' neckline framed by black lace. At the bottom hem was a border of black lace, so that the potential to reveal a bit of her thigh beckoned Paul's attention. Over it, she wore a peignoir made of a thin, gauzy material that she did not bother to button. Her skin underneath played 'hide and seek' with the thin covering. The outfit revealed little of the package underneath it. It was more like a gift-wrapped present, where the receiver is mystified by the contents and yearns to rip away the fancy paper. She didn't bother with shoes or slippers. Her pale skin was in sharp contrast to the fabric. Paul instantly detected that her perfume had been refreshed. 

She walked slowly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. It was as if she desired a compliment, but was careful not to proceed too quickly lest she would force her partner to speak in haste. Paul had taken a seat in an overstuffed chair near the bed. Glenda saw the drinks lined up on the mini-bar. She picked them up and handed one to Paul. She alit on the bed near where Paul was sitting tucking her feet underneath her.

"I like your outfit." Paul said. "It's beautiful; it suits you."

"Thanks," she said, blushing. "I know that I'm being silly. I just wanted to wear it because it has been so long for me and this being our first time. I never had the chance to do this and I thought that it might be my last chance."

"Don't apologize, Glenda!" Paul said strongly. "I like it! It was thoughtful of you to go to the trouble. To be honest, it's exciting—and it won't be your last chance."

Glenda looked down, temporarily embarrassed. Paul stood and pushed the peignoir off her shoulders. Glenda raised her arms a bit and Paul gently tugged the rest of the way off. 

"Now I feel a little excited, too," she said softly.

"Is your drink alright?" Paul asked her. "There was no 'Old Fashioned'; mix, so I just poured straight over the ice.

"It's fine," she said, and took a good swallow.

"I said that it's our first time," she continued. "Of course it isn't. It feels like the first one after so many years. It reminds me of our real first time together."

"How so?" Paul asked her curiously. "We're a lot more 'civilized" now."

"I feel the same way right now as I felt back then," Glenda explained. "I was nervous, but wanted something new. I knew that I wasn't beautiful, but I hoped that you were a man who wouldn't mind too much. I took a chance. It was right back then; it feels right tonight, too."

"Glenda, you accuse me of thinking too much. Stop worrying," Paul assured her. 

Glenda tossed down the rest of her drink, and then stood up in front of Paul.

"You're right, Paul. I'd like it if you could help me off with this," she said, taking the straps of the negligee symbolically in her delicate fingers.

Paul stood and took the reins of the straps from her.

"It seems like a shame. You're so beautiful in it," Paul teased.

Glenda reached out her hand and gently stroked Paul's erection through his pajamas.

"I think that the nightie has done its job," She said, with a small giggle.

Paul didn't answer, but drew the straps over her shoulders and pulled the fabric down until it was pooled at her waist.

"Remember these?" she taunted him.

Paul let go of the negligee and place his palms over her breasts. He let the nipples poke our through his fingers. Glenda sighed loudly, showing her pleasure. Paul closed his fingers around the buds, squeezing them tenderly. Glenda sighed again, more loudly this time, and Paul knew that he had pleasured her again. He released Glenda's breasts and took hold of the black folds once again. He pushed them down; Glenda stood nude in front of him. Her breathing was deeper and more rapid. Paul pulled his own pajamas down so that they pooled on the floor art his feet.  

They stepped forward to resume the kiss they started some minutes ago. This time it was filled with more desire. They probed and tongued one another. When they finally broke apart Glenda climbed to the middle of the oversized bed. She lay on her back, knees bent slightly, arms outstretched inviting him. Paul viewed the welcoming pose and the eagerness painted in her expression. He joined her on the bed, lying on his side, re-embracing her.

They kissed and caressed one another for a time. Glenda started to rub her middle against him. From time to time she would gasp or exhale in pleasure. She took hold of Paul's erected penis that had been pressing at her belly. Paul, in turn, slid a digit gently into her first fold, searching out her clitoris. With their free hands and arms, they held each other more tightly. Paul felt her moistness. He thrust a finger inside as deeply as he could. Her reaction told him that it registered well with her. Her alternated between his deep probing and circling her clitoris. Glenda still had her fingers wrapped around his shaft, but Paul could tell that she had lost concentration on it in favor of the pleasure that was gaining control of her. It suited Paul fine.

Suddenly Glenda pushed Paul's shoulder to signal him to lie on his back. As soon as he did so, she sprang up and straddled him. Glenda felt below for Paul's shaft and positioned the head of it at her entrance. Slowly and deliberately, she sank down on him, until his entire length was buried inside her. 

"Oh, yes!" she gasped. She didn't move, just held Paul inside herself, gently squeezing him with the muscles inside her.

Paul drank in the sensation of being inside Glenda, and watched her reaction as she took him into her. Seeing her pleasure reassured him and pleasured him as much as the wet warm softness softly surrounding him as he waited inside her. 

When they had both silently counted out every point of pleasure, savored every aspect of it, they started grinding against each other. They quickly learned the others' timing. It was a journey with an end in sight. They approached climax as if on a mission. They neither hurried nor delayed it, but accepted the onrush of it, reveling in their own sensations, and those of their partner. Glenda tensed first, and let out and exultant cry. Paul came soon after, flooding Glenda's canal with his semen. 

Glenda remained atop Paul. With the relaxation that follows sex, they dozed for a while. When they awoke a short time later, they made love again, and then slept soundly in each other's arms.

They spent the weekend together, going to the baseball game and other places. The next night they lay together again, sending and receiving the pleasure that had escaped them for too long a time.

On Sunday night Glenda took Paul to the airport and he left for Michigan. There was no sadness. They were confident that they would be back together soon.

**************** 

The next day Paul was in his office. Jim Spencer was with him, going over the progress on the Peoria project.

"Everything seems to be going our way," Jim began. "It's just as you predicted it."

"I'm no genius," Paul said. "I've just been down this road before."

"The State guys didn't quite give in, but it was apparent that their hearts weren't in it anymore. I think that they'll throw in the sponge next meeting. There's one thing that did bother me, though."

"What's that, Jim?" Paul asked.

"I was in the Men's washroom." Jim began. "Hopkins was in there with his assistant. I don't think that they saw me. The assistant said that he had spoken to his contacts at Northwestern. Hopkins asked if 'the Law School was on board'. His assistant said that he thought so."

"What do you think that he meant?" Paul questioned.

"Beats me, but it can't be good," Jim replied.

As Jim Spencer left the office Paul pondered the new wrinkle, and the threat it might mean to the project, and to Glenda and him.

TO BE CONTINUED 

******* 

Dear Readers,

I hope that you enjoyed the story. As always, I enjoy hearing from you. 

I'll be posting future installments of this story as they are ready.

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 01



She lay there basking in the afterglow. "Oh, my God," she thought, "that was the best and totally unexpected." She still couldn't believe what happened. It was like the best dream ever, but real. She snuggled against her lover feeling his cock against her bottom. She looked at the clock; it was late. She knew he would be up waiting. She didn't need to explain her tardiness; the expression on her face, the tone of her voice, and when he had his face pressed against her pleasure center he would know. No further explanation was necessary. He would do what he always did, worship her sex with his mouth. If she felt indulgent she might even let him cum. Then again she mused her cuckold of a husband might be unable to control his excitement and shoot his fireworks while licking her clean of her lovers' cum. 

Her lover told her the Swahili word for his seed was manii; twice he filled her with copious amounts of manii. She knew once she got up and moving it would leak out of her, collecting in the crotch of her panties. Some would remain, determined to make its way deeper into her body, seeking out its target. His taste and scent would remain with her giving her cuck pleasure for hours.

She quietly eased out of the bed and began to dress looking down at her lover sleeping. He looked content. She thought about putting her head under the covers and taking his thick, black, long, powerful, and beautiful dhakari into her mouth. Not that it would fit into her mouth; even soft it was too thick and long for her to take it all in. She fought the temptation not wanting to disappoint him. When she attempted to after he came the first time he gently reproached her and told her it was against His will. 

He briefly stared at her while he formed his words, "Jean', he said with a thick Kenyan accent, "I know your mouth will feel very good, but it's wrong. It's better to avoid the temptation. My manni belong in your womb, not your stomach. Give it time. In the meantime we can talk. When I am hard again we will pleasure each other and I will pass you my manni."

She finished dressing but felt pulled. She thought about spending the night, not to spite her cuck, but because she wanted more of the Kenyan's lovemaking, to feel his dhakari in the middle of the night and again in the morning. She reminded herself not to be greedy. 

She wondered if they would see each other again and hoped it was soon. He didn't stir. Not only was he good in bed she enjoyed his company. She gathered her purse, looked at him one last time, and quietly left the room.

She walked down the hallway towards the lobby. She wondered if the same clerk was on duty. He was a young man. His jaw dropped when she and he entered the lobby arm in arm. Not only were mixed couples a rarity where they lived, she was sure he saw her rings. He knew she was married and now he would know it wasn't to the black man with the thick accent in room 112. She thought his stare last time lacked the discretion a hotel clerk should have so she intended to meet his stare with her own.

The clerk was there, a chubby white man, with the face of a boy, in his early twenties. He wasn't looking but leering. The feel of George's cum as she walked prompted her to be more daring than normal. She changed directions and headed for the counter.

The clerk looked away. She stopped at the counter, looked at his name tag, and asked, "Ryan, be a sweetie and give me a sheet of paper and an envelope. I need to leave the gentleman I was with a note".

She smiled all teeth looking like a carnivore about to devour its prey. He blushed and fumbled for the paper. She thought, "New at the job, but he'll learn to not be so obvious. Gaping at the two of them like some idiot."

He handed her the paper and envelope. He also focused on her engagement and wedding rings. The gears upstairs were turning. He stayed planted. She thought about telling him to give her some privacy, but decided to give him a thrill and let him watch.

She fished a pen out of her purse. She ignored Ryan and began to write.

"George, Words cannot adequately express how glad I am our paths crossed. What we shared was beautiful. You are extraordinary in so many ways. I am so glad you let me experience the beauty of your dhakari. I don't think I've ever experienced such pleasure. Each time I move I feel the gift of your manni. This evening you reminded of something I forgot, the spirituality and purpose of lovemaking, the joining of man and woman, to become one, however, briefly.. I felt the Holy Spirit was in our presence with every thrust of your dhakari into my uke. We connected and the proof was our simultaneous climaxes as you fille me again and again with your manni. I hope the next time you are in town you call me or drop by. Here are my address and phone number. Love. Jean"

She reread it several times knowing Ryan was also reading. She was sure he would be pumping his dhakari the minute she left. Her gut told her Ryan was a cuck in the making, small cocked. All he needed was the right woman to let him see the light. She sighed, thinking she already had a cuck. 

She slowly folded the letter and placed it in the envelope. She stuck her tongue out and staring at Ryan moistened the adhesive on the envelope's flap. She sealed it and out of habit pressed her lips to the back leaving an ouline of her lips in red. She wrote his name on the front.

"Ryan, be sure Mr. Busieka in Room 112 gets this."

Ryan gulped, took the envelope. Jean noticed his hand was shaking. "Just like my cuck's," she thought. 

"Yes ma'am," I will, Ryan replied.

"Good. Thank you, Ryan, and sweet dreams."

"Goodnight miss."

"Jean. And Ryan, if we ever run into one another, pretend I was never here."

"Yes ma'am. I will."

She walked out of the hotel, taking her time, making her ass roll with each step, giving Ryan something to thrill over. Her ass she knew was still fine making men of all ages reach for their cocks and adjust them.

Sitting down in the seat of her Lexus she felt his manni leaking into her panties. A shiver went up her spine as she remembered the power of his thrusts, his dhakari getting stiffer and swelling even more as the contractions hit and he shot his manni into her vagina, deep she thought, picturing his cockhead pressed against the center of her cervix, bypassing the vagina, filling her womb direct with his seed. Another shiver hit her as she thought of the pleasure still ahead. Her cuck's soft, expert mouth slowly and deliberately making love to her sex. If she had to choose one over the other she would forego cock. She looked in the rearview mirror and smiled, "Lucky for me I can have my cake and eat it too."

She drove home focusing on the reunion with her husband. No matter how badly she behaved he always forgave placing the blame on himself. Whatever torments he felt vanished the instant his mouth was at the entrance of her vagina. As addicted as she was to cock, she was more addicted to tormenting her cuck and the feel of his tongue as he submitted to her. She owned him like a man owns a slave, body and soul.



Chance Encounter Ch. 02



It is Saturday night and Angel is getting ready to go out on the town with her friends. She has her favorite exercise video in the dvd player and is standing legs spread, weights in hand, bending at the waist, side to side. Inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling, she is dripping perspiration. Lifting her tiny tee shirt up to her brow to wipe away the droplets that have formed there; her breasts just barely peeking out from under it; she catches her reflection in the mirror and smiles. Finishing the video she moves to the bathroom for her much-deserved shower. 

Standing in the shower stall she lathers her hands with the expensive vanilla shower gel she loves so well. Bringing it to her nostrils she inhales the exquisite scent. It intoxicates her as she brings her hands slowly across her shoulders and down onto her breasts, following the hollow in her tummy and down onto her pussy. Moving down her inner thighs; closing her eyes and letting a tiny whimper escape her lips. Running her hand up and across her mound of feminine fur, she parts her soft inner lips and begins a slow finger search of her slit. Rubbing her clit she descends slowly to her rose bud asshole, then ever so gently back up again. Circling the little protrusion much like a tiny cock she plays with it and extends it from its hood. Rolling it in her fingertips she moans softly. Reaching up she cups one of her tits in her hand and brings it up to her mouth bending down to meet it and gently sucks on the already hardened nipple. Flicking it, biting it, she stretches it to its limit. Ripples of pleasure shoot through her body as she stimulates both her breast and her clit. 

She thinks to herself, "God, I need a man to fuck me like this. A hot stud, willing to think only of pleasuring me." 

Thinking of having a strong virile man doing with his mouth, licking and lapping at her wet pussy, what she is now doing with her own fingers, a slow rise in ecstasy builds in her and the first waves of orgasm arrive. She moans loudly and tugs on her tit and clit more rapidly and hungrily. Bursting with orgasmic pleasure over and over again, she falls against the shower wall, totally spent. 

Stepping out of the shower she pats herself dry, beginning at her milky white shoulders and working her way down her round, firm breasts and across her flat tummy. Then she runs the towel up her long slender legs and onto her thatch of wispy pubic hair. She wraps the cloth around her hair and steps up to the mirror. Looking into her own hazel blue eyes she sees the sadness there, built up over years of inner turmoil and worldly pressures. She has missed so much in life, the good pleasurable things. Having had an unfulfilling marriage and spending her youth, virtually alone, taking care of two small children has taken a toll on her spirit. She stands there gazing into her soul and comes to a conclusion, it is time for her to have some fun in life, to make herself happy. 

Blow drying her hair she begins to feel life spring into her. She smiles at the thoughts going thru her head. "How would it be to have a threesome?," she wonders. 

To have two men fondle her and make her cum simultaneously. She shudders at the thought, feeling the heat grow in her loins. She giggles out loud, surprising herself. 

"Good grief, Angel, get a grip," she says aloud. Applying her makeup and the final touch of her favorite candy apple red lipstick she realizes that she is still quite attractive. 

While sliding the low cut short black cocktail dress over her head, she looks at herself in the full-length mirror, appraisingly. She turns this way and that way admiring the reflection of her round tight ass. 

"Hmm, not bad," she thinks. "I think I still have what it takes to attract the opposite sex." Again she giggles at herself. 

Slipping on her black thigh high stockings she clasps them with the black lace garter that she is wearing. She smoothes the dress down over her hips and steps into the black satin stiletto heels she has chosen to wear. This makes her a bit tall for some men's liking but she enjoys being with tall men anyhow so it does not inhibit her in any way. And it enhances the shape of her legs, showing off the sleek muscle tone from years of exercise. Grabbing her little black purse she heads out the door, with a happy little spring in her step.

Stepping out on the curb she hails a cab, the doorman eyeing her appreciatively, lustful thoughts running through his mind. He turns away a blush on his cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from lust. 

She slips into the cab and without glancing up says to the cab driver, "I'd like to go to Liberty Avenue, please, the Metro Club to be exact ." 

The cabbie turns smiling as he surveys her long legs crossed over one another and says, "Yes, ma'am, just sit back and enjoy the ride." 

She allows the hem of her dress to raise a bit more at his gaze, smiling seductively at him. She is feeling very sure of herself tonight. They reach the nightclub that she instructs him to and he jumps out of the cab to let her out, leering at her. 

"Thank you," she coos at him with a smile. 

Smiling broadly at her, he says in a deep voice, "Oh, my pleasure ma'am." 

After paying him she turns and walks toward the door her hips gently swaying under the fine fabric of her expensive dress. She thinks she hears a soft wolf whistle coming from the cabbie but does not turn; she just smiles and saunters forward.

Entering the club, Angel looks around, spotting the group of friends she is to meet with. She waves and begins her journey over to them, weaving in and out of people who are milling about everywhere. Finally standing before the table she greets her friends with hugs and kisses alike. 

"Angel, so good to see you," says Jessie. Jessie is a petite lady with an endearing personality. 

"Hi! Jessie girl," Angel replies, bending to kiss her on her cheek. 

"Angel, you're looking quite radiant tonight," Debbie shouts over the loud din in the room. "Do you have something to confess?" 

Blushing, Angel takes the seat they have saved for her. "Well, to be quite honest with you," she laughs, "No I don't." winking coyly at her friend. 

The others laugh along with her for a moment, and then return to the juicy gossip that has become such a familiar habit among them. 

"Did you guys hear about Sally?" Jessica asks with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

"No!" they all seem to exclaim at the same time. 

"Well, it seems as if she has gotten herself into quite a bind with her husband," she blurts out laughingly. 

"Oh, really, what has she done now?" asks Mary with curiosity in her tone. 

"Well, let me tell you……

Angel loses touch with the conversation as she looks around the crowded room. She giggles to herself at some of the sites she sees. One guy and girl are on the dance floor really bumping and grinding to the beat of the band's music, oblivious to the onlookers watching them. It seems as if they are going to devour each other at any given moment. The site of them moving and writhing all over each other, again sends an all too familiar tingle through her body. She squirms just a little in her seat. 

Looking up on the stage her eyes settle on the saxophone player. He is tall in stature, maybe 6'3," lean and muscularly built, with long legs much like hers. He is wearing black chinos and a black silk shirt, with three buttons open in the front, exposing enough of his chest to tell that his muscles are quite defined. Her eyes lower to his *package* and she smiles approvingly. What Angel does not realize is that he is watching her appraisal of him. When she looks back up it is right into his gaze, their eyes locking on each other. A gentle blush envelops her whole body, and she has to look away. When she looks back he is again completely lost in his music so she returns her attention to the chatter around her.

The lead singer announces that they will be taking a fifteen-minute break but Angel hardly notices as she is engulfed in the conversation of her friends. The waitress brings her a fresh drink of which she says she did not order. Looking up at her, the attractive woman points over to the bar at the wall to a gentleman sitting there. Much to Angel's surprise it is the sax player, smiling across at her. She smiles back and he motions for her to the seat next to him. Rising from her seat without a word to her friends she slowly sways across the room to where he is sitting. 

He takes her hand and kisses it gently, saying, "Hello there pretty lady." 

At a loss for words, which by the way is not common for Angel, she manages a simple, "Hello." 

He helps her onto the bar stool and turns to face her. "My name is Rob," he offers with a tender smile. 

She falters for a second and then she almost blurts out, "My name is Angel." 

"What a beautiful name for such an angelic creature," he whispers as he leans into her, "It's a pleasure to meet you Angel."

Her breath taken away completely, she whispers softly, "Oh no, the pleasure is all mine." 

It seems like they sit there staring into each other's eyes forever. She has not felt this kind of stir within her in a long time. Gazing into her eyes intently he asks her with great enthusiasm, "I'll be finished here at midnight, when the next band comes on. Would you like to go somewhere for coffee?" 

Without hesitation Angel replies, "Yes, I'd love to." Again he kisses her hand and walks her back to her table, then advances to the stage.

Of course the girls want to know what just happened, but Angel is hushed about it, as she wants to savor the event in her own mind. The rest of the evening is quite uneventful for Angel, although she dances and drinks and has a wonderful time, always holding onto the thought of what might be to come. As midnight approaches and the band switches Angel becomes more apprehensive of the ensuing situation. She is not so sure now of what she might be getting herself into. 

But then she brushes her inhibitions away thinking to herself, "This is just coffee, what could possibly happen?" Unbeknownst to her at that moment her life is about to take an unexpected turn. 

Rob approaches her table and not saying a word reaches out and takes her hand, pulling her to her feet. He leads her onto the dance floor, where he turns and pulls her gently into his arms. Wrapping his arms around her he tenderly moves her closer to him. There bodies as one they sway to the quiet jazz tunes being played for what seems like a lifetime. Looking up into his eyes, Angel sees a hunger there meant just for her, and she knows then that this man is going to turn her empty existence into a world of magic, if just for one night. 

Rob suddenly breathlessly says, "Sweetheart, let's get out of here. I want you all to myself." Then as she grabs her purse and says a quick goodbye to her friends he sweeps her out of the crowded club into the night.

As they approach his car Rob turns to her, "Angel, I hope you don't mind but a friend of mine is feeling pretty down tonight," smiling reassuringly at her. "You see, he just broke up with his live in girlfriend and he needs some company. 

Now I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, but I told him he could join us for coffee," he says with some trepidation. 

Angel smiles back answering, "Oh God no, I don't mind at all. I'd love to meet your friend," never suspecting what is to come. 

The car door opens and out steps a very handsome gentleman. He smiles down on her and leaning in kisses her cheek tenderly, saying in a very sexy voice, "Hi sweetie! My name is Joe." 

Angel is surprised by this action, but at the same time flattered. Joe helps her into the front seat of the car and slips in beside her while Rob slides into the driver's seat. "Wow," she's thinking, "Sitting between two such handsome gentlemen."

It only takes five minutes to reach the coffee shop where they sit and sip hazelnut coffee for over an hour, just talking and getting to know each other. Rob suggests that they all go back to his apartment for a nightcap. 

This is a bit unsettling to Angel and at first she counters, "Oh, I don't know if that's such a good idea." 

Rob chimes in quickly, whispering in her ear, "Baby, don't worry we'll have a nightcap and then Joe will be on his way." 

Somewhere deep inside her she knew that this wasn't going to be the case, but remembering her feelings in the bathroom earlier, the thought of a possible threesome was still intriguing to her. She nodded and they left.

Arriving at his apartment Rob stops and parks. He then turns to Angel and drawing her closer to him kisses her with a passion that takes her breath away. He gently pushes her away and Joe turns her to him, looking into her eyes and kissing her deeply. She is completely awestruck by these gestures. Her panties have become instantly moist and the churning in her pussy surprises her. Joe gets out and helps Angel to her feet following Rob into the building. While riding up in the elevator they both move a little closer to her, just barely touching her sides, fingers entwining in hers. She is so overwhelmed with the intensifying heat that is growing in her. 

"Am I doing the right thing?" she thinks. But then she quickly brushes this fleeting thought from her mind. "This is my night to shine. To find out what Angel wants from life," she reassures herself.

No sooner does Rob close the door to the apartment behind them, than they are all over her. Joe is nibbling on her neck while Rob is unzipping her dress. Although Angel is extremely apprehensive of what is happening she cannot contain her desires and she moans gently allowing them to take charge of her body. Rob slips the dress down off of her shoulders and lets it slowly glide down across her breasts exposing her ample cleavage to them, allowing it to drop to the floor. Joe takes her beautiful tits into his big hands and draws them out of their captivity while Rob unclasps her black lace bra. 

She is breathless and unable to move. Bending down to suckle her left breast Joe moans loudly into it. Rob moves around the front of her and begins to nibble on her right nipple, which is standing erect for him, while running his hand down the length of her body to her waiting, throbbing pussy. He moves her panties aside in one sweeping motion and plunges his fingers into her cunt, scooping out some of her sweet juice, then brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

Angel gently throws her head back whimpering and moaning. Joe works his way down her body kissing and licking at her lovely scented skin. Reaching her belly button he pays special attention to it, pressing his tongue in and around it. He finds her panties all wet with her sweet nectar. He sniffs and inhales her scent. Spreading her legs gently he dips his head in for one quick lick of her lovely womanhood. They move over to the bed where they gently sit her down and lay her back, legs draped over the edge. Rob unclasps her thigh high black net stockings from the black lace garter that Angel is wearing. Rolling them down off her legs he kisses the tender exposed skin, licking and nipping at her. Lifting her hips up off of the bed Joe removes her black lace thong, then immediately bends in to kiss her wet thatch. 

Fine ripples of electricity surge through Angel's body, which makes her cry out with desire, "Oh God Joe, eat my hot cunt! Suck it, lick it, abuse it!" 

Joe goes to his knees and spreads her legs far apart, moving in between them. He sits down on his feet bringing him down to pussy level and bends his head in to take a taste of her sweet hot pussy lips. Joe loves to eat out pussy. He craves the taste, the smell, the mere thought of pleasuring this beautiful woman. Spreading her outer lips with his thumbs he inhales her essence deeply, loving the musky aroma she is emitting. 

Rob has already taken off his pants and under shorts and is kneeling on the bed beside her head, his hard cock in his hand, stroking it. He gently turns her head and rubs it up and down the smooth soft skin of her face. It's almost like he is marking his territory. Tracing her lips with the pre cum that has formed on the tip, she moans. 

Moaning loudly he commands her, "Suck my fucking fat cock baby. Show Rob your sucking skills." 

She opens her mouth; wrapping her hot mouth around him and hungrily inhales him. He slowly lowers his cock into her open throat, so deep that he touches the fleshy back of it. Engulfing him with her mouth, she bobs up and down on his large member. Angel loves sucking cock. It is one of her many sexual talents. Rob groans with delight, watching this gorgeous woman sucking him off. 

Joe is licking and lapping at Angel's growing moisture in her hot tight pussy. She sucks and nibbles and licks at Rob's hard cock while being eaten and fingered by Joe. 

A fleeting thought enters her mind, "Fuck, this is what heaven must be like." 

Savagely sucking at her Joe is stroking his own growing cock. Moaning into her pussy, pulling at her clit with his lips, he takes one finger and moistening it with her love juice, inserts it into her rose bud asshole. She groans at this action, as it is the first time she has ever had it done to her. Sensing this at the tightness he is feeling, Joe eases his finger in slowly and gently, allowing her muscles to relax and open up to him. Soon he has his finger all the way in to the second knuckle. He twists and turns it in her feeling her loosen up more and more. She is moaning uncontrollably now, bucking and arching her back to get her pussy closer to his face. 

Angel is still intensely sucking at Rob's throbbing cock, taking him deep into her hot throat, and then pulling him back out again. He thrusts his hips driving his hard dick in and out of her tightly wrapped lips. She grazes him with her teeth ever so gently and reaching over takes his balls into her soft hands, rubbing and kneading them between her fingers. They begin to tighten and she feels his cock spasm for the first time. He groans loudly as he shoots his load of hot, creamy, white cum into her mouth, filling her throat. At this precise moment she feels herself come to a peak and she thrusts her own hips up into Joe's face hard. She moans with delight as she cums in a gush of juices all over Joe's face, filling him with her sweet nectar. 

Joe rises up on his knees again and bringing her legs up over his shoulders thrusts his throbbing cock deep into Angel's hot, dripping, tight pussy. This sends an animalistic urge thru him; he wants to take her from behind. He withdraws from her and flips her quickly over onto her tummy, bent over the bed, exposing her ass to him. Spreading her legs he grabs her ass cheeks and opens her up. He runs his hard cock head up and down her hot slit, driving her mad with want for him. She bucks back onto his cock driving him deep inside her waiting cunt. 

Rob has laid down under her, while looking up into her eyes he takes her right nipple into his mouth and pulls and tugs on it with his teeth. She is moaning uncontrollably now, almost crying with pleasure. Joe fucks in and out of her hot pussy driving his hard dick deeper with each thrust. Gripping him tightly, Angel grinds her cunt onto his cock, moving her hips round and round on it. He takes his finger and wets it again, then plows it into her still tight asshole, slipping another one in beside it. This makes her crazed with sensations. Her cunt is filled with cock; her ass is filled with fingers and her sensitive tits being suckled by Rob. 

"Oh my God," she thinks, "If I die right now it'll all be worthwhile"!!! 

Joe feels his balls tighten and his cock spasm and he shoots his load deep into Angel's cunt. Angel, feeling the hot cum shooting into her, cums again and again. Rob is still sucking her tits, loving the tender round shape of them in his mouth. She reaches down and begins to slowly stroke his again hardened cock. Rubbing her hand up and down the long smooth shaft, spreading the pre cum all over it with her thumb. He moans upon hearing the others cumming and he cums for a second time into her hand, spurting all over his stomach and up his chest. Angel bends down over him and licks it clean, loving the salty taste of it on his skin. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 02



After Brian and Melissa had both had a chance to catch their breath, they put their clothes back on and headed back toward the parking lot. They both lived close by so they flipped a coin to see where they were going next. Brian won (or lost depending on your point of view), they both got into their respective cars and Melissa followed him back to his place.

As soon as they were inside the front door they kissed, as passionately as before but it was different this time. This time they knew each other and there was a feeling of confidence that first-times sometimes miss. He took her hand and they walked upstairs toward the bedroom where he started licking her left nipple through her dress. She was going at his belt buckle trying to work it loose as he drenched her dress with his saliva. Melissa's nipple was getting the idea as he noticed it starting to protrude. Brian was getting hard again as he felt her hand moving inside his waistband. He pulled her shoulder straps down and let her dress fall to the floor. She helped him with her bra and they were naked again. 

They moved toward the bed in unison and Melissa literally rolled right over him landing next to him on the bed. He noticed the slippery sound of flesh touching flesh and, looking down, he noticed that she was touching herself. Melissa was actually masturbating right beside him. He felt so turned-on that he immediately started to stroke his penis at the same time. When she looked over at him, he was completely disarmed and their mouths came together. Here they were lying next to each other, kissing and masturbating. Her kisses were oh so inviting. She broke the kiss and looked down at Brian's penis standing up with his hand wrapped around it. He knew all at once what to do and, as if everything happened at once, she rolled over onto her stomach and got up on her knees as he moved around behind her. Still in his hand, he moved his penis across her pussy lips feeling how it would be. He let the edge of his head rub up against her clitoris which made her moan so deeply. Not being able to stand it anymore, he pushed his cock deep inside her. Melissa writhed with the surprise as well as the pleasure at the same time. He gently pulled out and plunged back in again working them into a sensual rhythm. When Brian looked down he saw her asshole contract and relax with each movement. He knew his cock and his asshole were doing the exact same thing as they moved together.

Brian pulled out of Melissa's pussy and gently pushed his soaked cock into her asshole. It took Melissa by surprise, but she loved the way it felt and her soft moans made that fact very clear to Brian. Melissa took one hand and immediately started rubbing her pussy and clit until she was screaming with passion. Melissa's asshole was considerably tighter than her pussy and although Brian was moving in and out, it did not take long for either of them. As soon as Melissa started to come, her asshole clamped down on Brian's cock and made him shoot his load deep inside her. Melissa's spasm lasted for almost a minute with both of them nearing. Brian pulled out of Melissa's ass and she immediately turned around and took his cock in her mouth and licked it clean. She said, "I wish you would have pulled out a little early, and you could have come in my mouth!" Brian was a little surprised but promised her that there was plenty more where that came from...

The night went on and they got to know each other better. Their hopes and dreams, all the things that can easier be told when relaxed. They both actually found that they had a lot in common and they came to recognize that maybe there was more than chemistry going on. They both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Brian woke up a little after 3am to the little sounds of Melissa's slumbering moans. The sound made him immediately horny and noticing that she was on her stomach, he moved around and placed his tongue at the top of the crack of her ass. Very slowly he started moving down her ass in between her cheeks until Melissa woke up and realized what was happening. As Brian went lower, he spread her cheeks apart with his hands to give his tongue a clear path right to Melissa's asshole. He gently licked her asshole and began fingering her pussy, feeling her wetness return. Her slumbering moans were now definitely sensual moans of someone truly being pleasured in a way that she was not used to. Brian slowly moved his tongue to Melissa's pussy and sucked her vaginal lips into his mouth. At the same time, he stuck his tongue out, found her clit and began licking all at the same time. Melissa was now on her side with Brian's erect cock in her mouth going up and down its full length with her tongue was dancing across the underside of his manhood.

Before long, Melissa flipped around and sat her sopping pussy onto Brian's cock and rode him for all he was worth. Melissa's breasts were bouncing with every trip up and down Brian's length. Brian reached up and caressed her womanly lobes, feeling her now fully erect nipples as they moved. Melissa could feel the passion, the shear connection that was between them and brought her mouth down to his with a very wet kiss. With her breasts now pressing down on Brian's chest, their tongues were fully entangled and Melissa's hips were bucking wildly. Their sensuality was building and they were truly one. She could feel Brian's cock flexing with every stroke while her pussy was sucking it and she knew they were about to explode. Melissa came so hard that their pumping slowed while her vaginal muscles sucked away on Brian's rock hard penis. Melissa climbed off Brian and moved down his torso and started licking his cock and fondling his balls knowing that she only had a few seconds. Brian's moaning reached a crescendo and Melissa took her queue and virtually swallowed Brian's penis in one movement. She rubbed the area between his balls and his asshole and Brian immediately shot his load of cum down Melissa's throat in several long spasms that seemed to empty his balls of everything they had.

Melissa moved back up hugging and kissing Brian lightly, they both whispered a sigh of thank you to each other as their heart beats seemed to beat as one next to each other. They drifted back to sleep knowing their lives had changed forever.



Chance Encounter Ch. 02



CHAPTER II -- A Plant in Peoria

Paul woke first on a Saturday morning. Lying on his back, he couldn't see the clock. He judged the time to be early—before six—considering the hue of the light streaming into the cabin window and the songs of the birds in the surrounding forest. Partly alongside, and partly atop, Glenda lay in bed with him. Her deep rhythmic breathing told him that she wasn't about to wake up.

Paul thought that a change of pace might be enjoyable. He and Glenda had not seen one another since their night in his hotel room three weeks before. A few e-mails, a phone call were all they managed. That didn't mean that Glenda had been far from his thoughts. When he called with the idea of a weekend at his lakeside camp, he thought that Glenda sounded glad, too. He had an airline ticket waiting for her at Midway check-in. 

Paul would normally be 'up-and-at-'em' by this time when he was at the cabin. He didn't mind the change of routine, though. It had been an all day travel the day before, to his camp on the peninsula nestled in the forest and the lakes. They had both taken Friday off. She flew from Chicago to Saginaw. They drove the rest of the way. With a stop for dinner, the drive had been nearly six hours. They didn't arrive at the camp until nine. Then, there was the energy they expended together after they arrived. No wonder she was sleeping late!

Paul liked the feel of Glenda's body resting on him. It wasn't just the feminine softness or the warmth created by their flesh pressed together, but those things were a big part of it. He had waited a long time to feel them. Sally had always loved the cabin in the forest. It always seemed to bring out her sensuality when they could spend time there together. When she died, Paul had thought that he would never feel a woman pressed to his body again. Then, Glenda saw him by chance in that store in Chicago. 

It was the ease with which they blended together. Glenda's head rested in the triangle between the ball of his shoulder, his collarbone and his nipple. He felt her breath stir his hair and skin. Her arm was thrown across his chest. She rested on her hip, and one of her legs, bent slightly at the knee, crested over his thigh to find a nestling pace between his parted legs. It was a comfortable, perfect fit. The two bodies interlocked like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

Without thinking, Paul stroked lightly from the nape of Glenda's neck, across her small shoulder blades, down the length of her backbone, ending at the far end of his reach at the very top of the crevice that separated her two tiny buttocks. Glenda stirred. He realized that he had broken her slumber without wanting to. He half regretted having done so. The deed done, he indulged himself once again, feeling pleasure in the soft skin under his fingertips.

Glenda stirred. Paul decided to wake her all the way. He stroked again. The deepness of her breathing ceased. Paul stroked again. She woke with a start, lifted her head and settled back down atop him. She played idly with the hair on his chest. 

"Good morning!" Paul said softly to her. "How did you sleep?"

"Pretty well, I think!" she said. "The last thing that I remember ..."

She broke off the sentence, and followed with a long pause.

"Well ..." she continued in a playful voice, "I think you know what the last thing I remember is. I recall that you were a big part of it! I always sleep better after a hard workout." She gave out a small, suggestive chuckle.

She nestled closer into him, signaling a desire to start the day where the former night had ended.

"Let's go for a morning swim," Paul said.

"Maybe later," she purred. "Let's stay here for a while." She shifted her weight to be a little more on top of him.

"No! Let's go swimming," Paul commanded. 

Glenda rolled her eyes as he bounded out of the sack. He disappeared into the bathroom. 

"I'll need my suitcase to get my bathing suit," she called out as he emerged.

"Stay where you are. I'll bring everything that you'll need." He called back.

Paul was waiting for her as Glenda exited the bathroom.

"You won't need your suit. Here's a robe."

Glenda held the terrycloth robe and paused. She knew that it had to be Sally's. She looked at Paul with a questioning look.

"It's alright," was all he said, and she slipped on the robe. She saw that he was wearing a matching one.

"You're not really saying that we're ..." she asked, or perhaps pleaded.

"It's not even six," Paul assured her. "We're in a private little cove. Once you're in the water, it won't make any difference, anyway."

"I've never done anything like this," She protested.

"I can see that you've become a real city girl!" Paul said, laughing. "Trust me!"

She didn't have a chance to answer as Paul strode out of the cabin. Glenda followed in hot pursuit. She saw the lake in daylight for the first time. In the early morning air, vapor rose from the silent depths. 

"We'll dive right off the end of the dock." He called over his shoulder.

They strode out on the dock, past the boat house. At the far end, Paul ripped off the robe and dove into the chilly water in one motion. The splash broke the silence of the morning disturbing a pair of loons about fifty yards away. They flapped to be airborne and skimmed across the water. The initial surge of coldness bit Paul. He had expected it; the refreshment of it was what he sought and received.

He surfaced, treading water, looking for Glenda. She remained on the dock, wrapped in the robe.

"C'mon, jump in!" he called.

Glenda slowly unwrapped herself, setting her robe on top of Paul's. She stood at the point of departure at the end of the dock

"It looks cold!" she cried out in fear.

"It is!" he called back. "You'll love it!"

"I don't know if I can, Paul; maybe after it warms up."

Paul laughed as he effortlessly treaded water. He took a second to view Glenda's slender body, with the pink nipples hardening on her small breasts, and the triangle of red hair the only break in the whiteness of her skin.

"Take all the time you want!" he replied sarcastically. "Just remember, while you're taking your time, you're standing there in the nude and ..."

She dove in head first, surfacing a few yards from him treading water as he was. Paul observed that she was a good swimmer.

"Ohhh, it's cold!" she cried.

"Yes, it is," Paul said, laughing. "But it feels great, doesn't it?"

"Yes—yes it does" she said with a sheepish smile.

A small boat trolled by about a hundred yards offshore carrying two early morning anglers. They saw Paul and Glenda and waved to them. Paul waved back.

"Time to go in!" he teased. "Just climb up to the dock by that ladder over there. Those guys wouldn't mind the view."

"No!" she shrieked with her eyes opening wide. Then, realizing the joke, she laughed. She laughed long and hard. It was laughter that started deep in the belly and erupted from a face that knew only the moment. It was a laugh that chased away the demons hidden in her. Paul had yet to see it until that moment. The feeling warmed him, immersed as he was in the frigid lake water.

"They're my neighbors from down the cove," Paul explained. "We'll probably see them for drinks tonight after dinner."

They swam together for a while. The water of the lake cleansed and refreshed them. They watched the loons in low flight over the water's surface. The view takes on a different perspective from eye level. They stretched muscles cramped from the long hours in the car the day before. 

Too soon, it was time to go back to the cabin. They climbed out on the ladder at the end of the dock, put on their robes and walked back to the cabin.

"I have to admit it," she called to him walking in front of her, "the water really wakes you up. I feel great!"

"I knew you would," he called back.

They walked into the cabin and stood in the kitchen.

"Why don't you take a shower to warm up?" he said to her. The water in the lake is clean, but hard. You might want to shampoo it out of your hair. I'll get breakfast started."

"Why don't you finish what you already started," she cooed as she opened her robe. 

Paul was confused; finding a skillet to start bacon and eggs was in the front of his mind.

"I don't know how to answer that, Glenda," he said, puzzled.

Glenda stepped to him. She took hold of the ends of the belt holding his robe together. She put her lips next to his ear.

"You answer ..." she whispered provocatively, "by saying that you're getting in the shower with me."

She tugged the belt and the robe fell open. She looked down and saw Paul's erection forming. It showed that he finally understood.

They made love in the shower as the warm water caressed them. It was different from the night before. That time, they devoured one another in victory celebration at the confirming of their defeat of their loneliness. In the morning shower it was a sharing of sensuality. It began with their flesh pressed together, nude, in the waking bed. It heightened as the lake chilled them in their nakedness. They swam together like Adam and Eve; the sights and sounds of the forests enlivened them. Finally, the warmth of the shower touched new nerves. The act of sex was the final engagement of their senses.

They weren't very interested in washing themselves, except that the soap made their skin slippery. It allowed them to glide over each other as they pressed together. Paul guided his hand over Glenda's slippery skin. First he probed the front of her. He stopped at her small breasts, cupping them, and then turned his attention on her hardened nipples. He bent to suck the warm water from them. It tasted of the lake and of her. He pulled her to him and let his big hands course the length of her back, and lower. He captured her buttocks in his strong hands and pulled her against him. They shared a hungry kiss. He released her globes and placed his fingers at the juncture in the front of her. He gently probed in. He could feel the difference between the water of the shower the moisture that Glenda created within her. She moved against him and began to moan, that Paul could hear over the sound of the shower. She took his erected penis in her hand and pulled his face down to kiss him once again. The anticipation, alone, would have been excitement enough. The physical stimulation inflamed them. 

Glenda stood on her toes in an attempt to mount him, but she wasn't tall enough. As if on cue, Paul grasped her firmly under her round buttocks. Her slender body was light and Paul was strong. He lifted her; and Glenda was impaled on him. Her arms held tightly around his neck and her legs around his waist. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, counterpoint to Paul's manhood thrust into her. He made a quarter turn to lean her against the wall for a little support. He lifted her slightly and set her back down. As her weight fell on him, she squeezed around him with the muscles inside her. It took a long time for them to approach climax. By that time, the hot water had run out; the shower ran cold. They didn't care. Orgasm crested over them, not as a release, but as fulfillment of a search. They relaxed and became aware of the coldness. Paul set Glenda down and shut off the water.

As they toweled dry, Paul thought how satisfying had been the sexual interlude of that morning. He understood why immediately. It was the sating of the senses, brought alive by the immersion in the cold morning lake; it was the thrill of their awakening and justified self-indulgence. They knew they deserved the pleasure—having waited so long— having neither hurt any person nor trespassed any boundary in the partaking of it.

"Now I think that we're ready for breakfast!" Paul declared.

"I never washed my hair," hhe teased.

"Maybe I'll help you with that later," he teased back.

When Sunday came he asked her, "Can you call in sick tomorrow?" 

When she answered 'yes', he said that he had already taken a personal day, himself.

So their weekend went. They boated and canoed around the lake, swam in that special style that they developed that first morning and grilled steaks and sipped scotch with friends by night. In between they joined to fill one another with their bodies, and with the feeling of being alive.

*********** 

It had been six weeks since Paul had attended a 'Peoria Plant' meeting. Jim Spencer had filled in ably. Paul's schedule was busy with other projects and the Shareholders' Meeting preparations. He had no time for sparring over details if it led to more of nothing. Today's meeting promised to be different.

Around the table was a familiar roll call. Paul sat at the head of the long table and to his right was Jim Spencer, both representing Dunn Chemical Company. Harry Carmichael, who owned the general contracting firm for the project was next to him; the Mayor of Peoria was next. Dr. Arthur Hopkins sat at the far end of the table, looking unusually dour. He was consultant to the State Environmental Agency in name, and suspected agent of Montgomery Chemicals, the competitor of Paul's Company which stood to lose greatly if the new plant was built. A reporter from the Peoria newspaper waited in a chair outside the room. On Paul's left, between him and Hopkins sat two representatives from the State Agency. One was Craig Morehead, second ranked on the State team; the other was a younger, more junior woman whom Paul did not know. Missing was the lead state engineer on the project. It bothered Paul that he was missing. 

"Where's Grafton?" Paul demanded of Morehead. 

"Ed's no longer with the Agency." Morehead answered. He walked in last week and declared he was retiring. He cleaned out his desk and walked out without saying 'good-bye. The 'golden thirty', I guess. Once he finished that thirtieth year, he was 'good to go'.

"We should have been informed." Paul said sternly.

I was appointed to fill in for him on this project." Morehead answered.

"Where is he now?" Paul demanded.

Morehead shrugged it off, but as he did, the young woman next to him spoke up.

"He got an offer from Montgomery Chemical and went for it. He's got a full ride on his state pension and a plush office at Montgomery."

Morehead shot the young woman an evil glance, but the canary had already sung her tune.

Paul was furious, but held himself in check. Paul had been sure that Montgomery had been behind the governmental delays of the project. Paul looked to the end of the table to gauge a reaction, but Hopkins stared out the meeting room window at the Sears Tower.

"I'm not going to stand for this!" he muttered to himself, but for all to hear. He turned to Morehead. "Tell Larry Wilton to expect a call from me!"

Wilton was the Administrator of the Agency. 

"No need for that!" pleaded a worrying Morehead. "I'm sure that we'll wrap up the project today. We'll all get what we want. Let's just do it."

"Oh we will do it, but give Wilton my message, Craig," Paul said. His darkened eyes bored into Morehead.

"Well ..." began Morehead "there are some things that we have to insist on before we can issue the permit. First on the list is to install landscaping on the security containment dikes."

"The plans already say ..." the Peoria Mayor piped up. 

Harry Carmichael touched the Mayor's arm to halt his sentence. He knew the game was almost over. Jim Spencer sat motionless, containing himself. They all knew that the Site Plan already included the landscaping.

"Consider it done!" Paul exclaimed. "Good suggestion! You should have been the lead man all along, Craig."

"Then, there is the matter of the backup emergency generator." said Morehead. "It should be solar-powered ... if possible."

As Paul listened to a litany of a dozen minor demands, he knew that it was a way of saving face in retreat. The proposals of the State Agency amounted to nearly nothing, less than window-dressing. Paul would agree to them all. The permit would be issued.

The capitulation confirmed all of Paul's suspicions. Grafton had been on the dole from Montgomery, as had been Hopkins. The strategy of meeting Hopkins stride for stride had convinced Montgomery to pull the plug and accept the reality of the new plant. That meant that Hopkins' fees and studies had ceased, too. It explained his unpleasant visage. Grafton had to be hired to keep him silent and out of sight.

The meeting was concluded and they repacked their brief cases. Paul started thinking about giving Glenda a call.

"We've got a reporter outside waiting!" called out the Mayor.

They all filed out except Hopkins and Paul. Paul stood and peered at the defeated adversary at the end of the table.

Hopkins was a shallow, thin man, lost in a tweed jacket. He was in his early sixties. He had a full beard of salt and pepper whiskers that descended to his chin at a point. His head had less hair, just a thin ring of grey. His eyes were sad and sunken. 

"Win some, lose some, Arthur," Paul said. He would have admitted to a tinge of smugness in his tone, and would have also admitted that he didn't care, either.

"The people and the planet have lost. I am only their servant," Hopkins answered.

Paul was having none of Hopkins' sanctimony.

"What is this, Arthur, the 'Sermon on the Mount'? You know better than to pull this on me. We both know what was 'lost'. It was your tab from Montgomery."

Hopkins looked back out the window at the Sears Tower.

"Is someone in a window over there flashing you the answer, Arthur? You shouldn't be upset! Look at what you got—something for nothing. Isn't that your stock in trade? How long did you expect it to last?"

"You're very animated today, Paul," Hopkins said, without turning his gaze from the window.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. You just get to me sometimes," Paul said. "Going out to 'Meet the Press'?"

"No, I don't think so," Hopkins said in a quiet voice.

As Paul walked to the door he shot back over his shoulder, "You can tell Grafton that I'm not done with him."

Paul observed the crowd around the reporter. Morehead was telling him how the State had forced Paul's Company to 'pay attention to the ambience of the city with landscaping and conserve energy with solar power'. The State Senator from the area, absent from any of the meetings, had shown up to proclaim 'his part in job creation and bringing the parties together'. The Mayor looked forlorn because it didn't appear that he would be interviewed, since the reporter had his hook into bigger fish in the persons of state officials.

Paul could see that he wasn't needed. There were enough clowns in the circus. He motioned for Spencer and Carmichael to follow him out a back door.

"You guys did a great job in getting this thing through. Jim, it was the right decision when I put you on this job." Paul said.

There were handshakes and pats on the back all-around. 

"I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't mind a drink" Paul said. Let's go back to the hotel bar. I'll buy the first round. Harry you can buy the second. Spencer, you don't have to buy any, you can't afford it!" The three laughed at the joke and piled into a cab.

"By the way," Paul asked, "Who was that young woman engineer from the State?"

"I'll fill you in later." Spencer answered.

********** 

The three men sat at a table in the cocktail lounge of their hotel. They were in an ebullient mood and the first round of drinks didn't do anything to dampen their spirits. 

"Hey, guys," Paul piped up "do you mind if I call someone that I know close by and ask her join us?"

Paul's companions shrugged and he flipped his cell phone open.

"Hello, Glenda, it's Paul. Sorry for the short notice. I'm at the James Hotel. We just wrapped up a project and we're having a small celebration. Would you like to come over and join us? Sure, we're in the bar. Plan on dinner. We'll wait for you. Bye!"




Chance Encounter Ch. 02



Harry and Jim looked at Paul with puzzled expressions.

"She's a friend of mine who lives here. She works at Northwestern. I promised that I'd call her when I was in town. Don't worry! She's great! You'll like her."

Harry and Jim gave each other that 'what is he up to' look and Paul saw them.

"Look, you two, not a word of this to anyone!" Paul ordered and pleaded.

"No problem, no problem," They promised. 

While they waited for Glenda they ordered another round and traded new war stories.

Glenda appeared at the entrance to the cocktail lounge about forty-five minutes later. Paul spotted her and motioned her over. The three men stood and Paul made the introductions.

Glenda had just come from work and was wearing her navy suit. She looked nice, but not provocative. As she sat at the table it was easy to see that she would fit right in with the group. 

"I have to be home by eleven at the latest, Paul. I have a busy day tomorrow." She cautioned him.

"That's alright; we have a flight out at nine, ourselves." Paul countered. 

The unstated question was answered. Glenda wouldn't be making it to Paul's room that night. Paul was just happy to see her and treat her to dinner and drinks. Jim and Harry knew that they wouldn't be expected to 'disappear' at an early hour.

Jim and Harry liked Glenda right away. Paul knew that they would. She had the knack of treading the fine line between being 'one of the boys' and being too much a lady. After a short time, a person would think that Glenda had known the three of them for years. She tolerated their inside 'shop talk' without pouting. She joined in at laughing at Harry's bawdy jokes. Somehow, Harry knew that he could tell them without embarrassing her. Glenda probably knew a few of her own, but didn't tell any. She kept up with their rounds of drinks and lit into a steak at the dinner table. Who could ask for more in a woman? 

At the end of the evening everyone, including Glenda (finally), agreed that it would be more prudent to ship her home in a cab than to allow her to go back to the lot at Northwestern and get in her car. It would be another commute in the 'L' the next morning.

At the airport the next day Paul and Jim Spencer were in the coffee shop waiting for their flight, nursing hangovers.

"Rough night—last night." Paul mumbled. "You've gotta do it every once and a while—whether you need it or not!"

"I'll second that!" Spencer exclaimed. "By the way, that Glenda is quite a trooper. She's a very nice person, too."

"Thanks, Jim." Paul answered. "We would like to keep this to ourselves, please."

"No problem." Spencer vowed.

"It's not that there's anything to hide." Paul explained. "It's just easier for us to not have an audience."

Jim nodded that he understood.

******************* 

The next day Paul sat in his office reviewing his presentation for the upcoming Shareholders' Meeting. He also had a call in to Larry Wilton, Administrator of the Illinois Environmental Agency. He was only slightly acquainted with Wilton, having met him a few years before at a Chemical Engineering Symposium at the University of Illinois. That was when the Peoria project was in the opening concept stages. They had spoken a few times since by telephone. 

Paul's secretary, Marge, buzzed to let him know that Wilton was on the line.

Paul: Hello, Larry. This is Paul Crane speaking. I want to thank you for that Peoria permit.

Wilton: Glad we could do it, Paul. What's on your mind today?

Paul: Didn't Craig Morehead give you my message?

Wilton: No, can't say that he did. What was the message?

Paul: It's Grafton, Larry! It's his job at Montgomery! It's a conflict of interest. He held that project up for almost two years, now he's got a cushy job at the competitor with the most to lose by the project going through.

Wilton: I know that it looks bad, but there's no proof of anything 'untoward'.

Paul: Yes, there is proof, Larry. It just hasn't been found yet, and I'm betting that it will be very 'untoward'.

Wilton: If you have any evidence, I'll have our staff take a look at it.

Paul: No! That's your job. I'm calling you to ask for an investigation, Larry. I'm sure that Morehead knows something. Get him to talk. 

Wilton: It's not that easy, Paul. I know that you're upset. You have your permit now. Grafton is moving out of state. I didn't like the sudden move, either, but we'll just have to get over it and move on.

Paul: That's not going to cut it, Larry. I think that you and I need to have a face-to-face. I'll call you after our Shareholders' Meeting. I'd like some time on your calendar.

The two men said their goodbyes. Their mood was tense. They hung up.

The result of the phone call had been unsatisfying, but expected. Paul knew that Wilton had the same suspicions as he, but would not start digging in a hole that he didn't know the depth of in advance. For Paul's part, he knew that he and his company had little to gain, except the exposure of governmental corruption. Paul weighed his responsibility to the corporate bottom line against his Company's long-term interests. Cleaning up this type of dishonesty would mean better sledding for future projects. Word would get around to 'play it straight' when dealing with Dunn Chemicals. Paul decided to give it some thought later, after he cleared some details from his desk. 

Marge buzzed Paul again. Jim Spencer had to see him right away about the Peoria project.

"We just got served," Jim began. "There's a temporary injunction stopping the issuance of the construction permit for the plant, pending lawsuit."

"You're kidding!" Paul sighed. "I just spoke to Larry Wilton. He didn't mention it." "He probably is just finding out right now." Spencer explained. "The suit is brought by Concerned Scientists of America. We're defendants, as well as the State of Illinois and the City of Peoria. Hopkins just issued a press release."

"I should have figured that Hopkins would try something backdoor!" Paul exclaimed. "Where are they getting the money?"

"Their lawyers are working pro-bono," Spencer explained. "It's an outfit called Northwestern Law School Outreach. It's composed of professors from that school, with third year students looking for experience. It's the same outfit that held up the Chicago Waterfront Project." 

"Call Harry Carmichael," Paul ordered. "Make sure that he's sitting down—then fill him in. Tell him to keep the Mayor in Peoria calm. They might jump ship if they see a costly lawsuit ahead."

"I assume that Wilson has this already." Paul asked. Spencer nodded. Ted Wilson was the in-house Corporate Counsel.

Paul pressed the buzzer for Marge and summoned her into his office.

"Marge, set up a meeting between Ted Wilson and me. Jim, here, should be there, too. Ask Karen Walsh in Public Relations to attend also. Priority Number One, please."

It was a bitter taste for Paul. The victory, claimed after such great toil, had the potential of a complete reversal. There were so many complications. Paul had other projects working and many people depending on him. This simple plant had imposed too great a burden on his time and resources already. The company could do without this plant. Perhaps, he thought, the smart play would be to move on. That would be a Management Committee topic. 

If Paul's Company and the State Agency became co-defendants, it would be hard to force Wilton to pursue Grafton. A big delay would let the culprit off scot-free.

Paul thought of Glenda. Her employer was now the attorney for the plaintiff in a suit against Paul's Company. When Jim Spencer said the words 'Northwestern Law School', a bitter chill had coursed through Paul. He knew how difficult, if not impossible Glenda's position could be, as well as his own because of their relationship. He would have to speak to Wilson about it. He would wait to put in a call to Glenda until after the meeting.

As he sat pondering the turn of events, Marge buzzed him. She told him that Arthur Hopkins was on the line.

Paul knew that Hopkins was calling to gloat. He thought of not taking the call, but he hoped that his foe might disclose something accidentally, so he picked up the phone.

Hopkins: Hello, Paul! Did you get any interesting reading material today?

Paul: Why are you doing this, Arthur? You and I both know that you don't give a damn about that plant, and we both know that the Montgomery money has run out. I don't understand your interest in this.

Hopkins: I've got to do it, Paul. If I let you get the better of me like this I'll never get hired again by anyone. I had great plans for that Montgomery money. It could have gone on a lot longer. You have cost me big time. I can't let this go.

Paul: Then, Arthur, it's all about you.

Hopkins: Yes, I suppose it is—but it's about you too. You're going to pay a bigger price than I ever will. I'll lose money, but you're going to lose a lot more. You shouldn't have trifled with me. 

Paul: What are you talking about, Arthur? On second thought, don't answer that. I don't think that we should be having this conversation.

Paul hung up. Hopkins' last words puzzled him. What could Hopkins do to him? Paul thought perhaps he meant some demonstration at the upcoming Shareholders' Meeting to embarrass him. 

"I'm slipping!" Paul scolded himself. "I should have seen this coming."

He wondered again about Hopkins' strange threat. He convinced himself that his idea about the Shareholders' Meeting was probably wrong. That move would be too weak to match the threat. What Hopkins could have meant eluded Paul. He would just have to wait and find out.

"I should have taken it easy on him after the meeting yesterday!" Paul said aloud in the empty office. He put that thought aside. The lawsuit had certainly been planned far in advance. 

********** 

The meeting with the legal team was breaking up. It was decided to meet the lawsuit head-on. Buckling would haunt the Company in future projects. They would fight it out. It was, at least, the decision for the time being.

"Can I speak to you privately, Ted?" Paul asked as the people shuffled out of the room.

Ted Wilson and Paul had been friends for years. They crossed paths often in their work. They belonged to the same golf club. They were both consummate professionals and respected each other.

"Ted," Paul began, "there's something personal involving this lawsuit that I didn't want to bring up in front of the others."

"What have you got?" Ted asked.

"I recently struck up a ... relationship ... with a woman who works for Northwestern University. You know what I mean by a relationship, I'm sure."

Ted nodded.

"Anyway, her job is secretary to the Dean of the Law School. It's the same outfit that's representing the plaintiffs."

"I see!" Ted raised his eyebrows. "Did you ever discuss the lawsuit or anything about the Peoria project with her?"

Paul shook his head.

"I'm sure that you're asking if it's a conflict of interest for you to go on seeing her." said Ted. "Actually, you're in luck. The actual attorney for the plaintiff is not the Law School, but the 'Outreach' organization. The Law School sponsors it, but they are legally separated. Technically, there is no conflict. My advice is to keep the topic off the table when you're with her and keep yourselves low-key when you're together. There's no point in inviting attention."

"So, I'm in the clear on this?" Paul clarified.

"Yes, from our side, I would say so, as it stands now. Again, just keep things low-key. Keep me informed. By the way, when do we get to meet her?"

"Like you said, we're keeping it low-key," Paul laughed.

"Bring her around to the club when you think the time is right," Ted answered.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized until that day how important Glenda had become to him. He had thought that he might have to break it off with her. Wilson was a big help. He would call her when he got back to his office.

*********** 

At the same moment, at Northwestern School of Law in Chicago, Glenda was called into the office of her boss, Dean Randall Judson. Besides the Dean and Glenda, Arthur Hopkins was also there. Glenda peered onto the Judson's desk and saw her personnel file sitting on the desk in front of him. She looked up and saw the grim expression on the men's faces. Judson spoke.

"Glenda, this is Dr. Arthur Hopkins of Concerned Scientists of America. They have just become clients of the 'Outreach Program'. Glenda rose to shake hands, but Judson put up his hand to stop her. 

"There is a conflict of interest involving you because of this client relationship. Dr. Hopkins has brought it to my attention."

"I don't know what it could be, Dean!" exclaimed a puzzled Glenda. "You have been seen in the company of Paul Crane of Dunn Chemical. We are suing them. Northwestern is our legal representative," Hopkins declared. "In fact, you boarded a plane with a ticket that he paid for, and spent the weekend with him in his cabin on the peninsula."

"How do you know my private business?" Glenda was angry and concerned.

"Usually, we don't disclose our methods, but so you know that we can find things out, I'll tell you," Hopkins began. "By chance, an associate of mine, who used to work for the State, saw you two having drinks in the barroom of Keefer's restaurant. After that, it was simple." 

"We followed you to the airport when you took that vacation day; we paid the airline agent for the destination and payment details, and had our private investigator find the location of Crane's cabin in Michigan. You were even photographed during your 'morning swim'. I have the pictures—telephoto lens. You have a scar on your left knee, and you have birthmark on ... well, you know where you have a birthmark." 

A wispy smile snaked across Hopkins' lips. Glenda could see that he was enjoying his cruel little game. She tried to be determined to not grant him the satisfaction of seeing her reaction, but tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't help it.

"As a client of ours," the Dean began, "Dr. Hopkins has insisted that we relieve this conflict. We have to insist that you break off your relationship with Mr. Crane right away."

"I've done nothing improper," Glenda pleaded.

"That's not the point," the Judson countered.

I don't work for the 'Outreach'. I work for the Law School. They are different," Glenda argued.

"Policy decision—my call." said the Dean.

"What if I don't agree?" asked Glenda.

"You'll be fired," answered Judson. "Glenda," continued Judson, leaning forward. "I don't want to fire you, but there is no compromise possible here. I know you—you're thinking of fighting this. Don't! Remember that when you took this job at Level Six - Confidential Secretary you had to leave the Employees' Union. You're all alone on this. Think of your career! Think of your pension!"

"I want a transfer!" Glenda demanded.

"No transfer!" said Judson, shaking his head.

"Why are you doing this? Who gave you the right?" she demanded. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Don't try to cheat!" Hopkins blurted out. "You know now that we have ways of finding things out."

"If you do cheat," warned the Dean. "We'll have to fire you. Now, there's something for you to sign. It's just an acknowledgment of our agreement this afternoon—for your personnel file. There is also a stand by agreement to allow us to tap your home phone, if we so desire, without notice." 

Glenda could barely see the papers through her tears, but she signed them. She had no choice.

"At least let me call him to let him know," Glenda pleaded.

"I'll do that for you!" a suddenly jovial Hopkins exclaimed.

"That won't be necessary, Arthur. We've done enough!" proclaimed Judson. He turned to Glenda. "Call him from your home phone after hours. I'm sorry, Glenda. This is just the way it has to be. You'll get over it. I hope there are no hard feelings."

"You mean I have to like it, too?" she asked sarcastically.

The two men sat silently.

"It's really my fault." Glenda declared. "A person should know better than to reach too far. It's always so tempting. I knew better. I was a two-time loser. Now I'm a three-time loser."

She slowly turned to leave the office. Before she completed her about face, she saw the smile of pleasure retrace across Hopkins' face. She wished that she could smack that smirk off him, but she knew that she never would.

************* 

TO BE CONTINUED

Dear Readers,

Thanks for reading. I truly enjoy receiving your questions and feedback. Please don't hesitate to use the Public Section, or the private e-mail facility.

Good reading and best regards,

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 02



Fifteen minutes later Jean pulled into the driveway, hit the button, and opened the garage door. She considered the dark house a good sign. She was as eager to see her cuck as he was to see her. She pictured him up in her bedroom, laying on her bed, flat on his back, a towel underneath him. She had always been a creamer and they had incorporated a towel in their lovemaking decades ago.

If the kids were up it might be 5 minutes or an hour before she headed upstairs. Keeping him waiting was fun. It heightened his arousal, but tonight she was ready for immediate gratification. She pulled into the garage, exited the car, and entered the house. She entered the family room saw it was empty and breathed a sigh of relief.

She made her way upstairs. His bedroom door was open and hers closed. She quietly opened it, entered and closed it behind her. The darkness enveloped them. 

She softly called out, "C, are you awake?"

A voice equally soft but definitely a man's answered, "Yes."

She smiled wishing he could see the look on her face, tenderness and concern for her cuckold, "Turn on the light C. I want you to see."

He reached up and clicked on the lamp. 

She approached the bed getting wetter with each step. What was about to happen was a ritual they had played out ever since he became her cuckold. It hadn't changed in all the years she had been cucking him. She liked ritual, but this ritual had special significance. Without she asking or he having to say it, he affirmed their unwritten contract. 

She stood by the bed, stared down at him as he adoringly looked up. She felt so strong and saw him as delicately fragile. She handled him the way she always did, firm but fair. 

He extended his right arm and his hand caressed her butt. 

She started to undo her blouse. Her tone was firm, not harsh, "Did you figure out why I'm late?"

He mumbled, "Yes."

She took her blouse off and removed her bra exposing her tits. She wished they were covered with bite marks or hickeys. Her nipples were swollen; she took them in her fingers and rolled them. It felt delicious she thought.

"Then tell me."

"You were with another man."

"That's right. Another man. A new man. And what did we do?"

"You made love."

"That's right cuck. We made love. My new man fucked me. Not just once, but twice. He put his big cock in me and we fucked. Tell me again cuck, why do I need a man with a big cock?"

"Because mine is small."

"That's right, small. It's so small I have to look elsewhere for pleasure. Do I deserve pleasure cuck?"

"Yes. Are you sorry you have a small penis cuck?"

"I am."

Jean began to remove her pants. She peeled them off and then did the same with her underwear peeling it down. She kicked them off her feet. He would pick them up in the morning.

"What else are you sorry about cuck?"

He was staring at her bush, salivating. He looked up, "That I cum so quick."

"That's right cuck. You cum very quickly. You have alot to be sorry for, but you're going to make it up to me aren't you?"

He croaked out, "Yes. I'm going to make it up to you."

She knew she sounded like a total bitch. There was venom in her voice, "How are you going to make it up cuck?"

His eyes glazed over making him look intoxicated. He was in the zone, the deeply submissive zone, "I'm going to clean you with my mouth mistress."

"That's right, cuck. You are going to clean me and bring me pleasure with your mouth. What am I going to do in return?"

She was tempted to make him beg, imagining his little penis hidden by the covers throbbing, the agony he felt pure torture.

"Nothing mistress."

"That's right. You are going to give me pleasure and I am going to revel in it. And when I'm done I'm going to go to put on my nightgown and go to sleep. And you're going to snuggle against me feeling my bottom against your excuse for a penis and listen as I tell you about my date as I drift off to sleep."

His hand on her ass felt nice. She didn't resist as he pulled her closer to the bed. She swung her right leg over the bed as he arched his head up, lips pursed, to kiss her sex.

She groaned at the initial contact. She lowered herself onto him, her sex splayed open wide, as his tongue entered her. She loved the feel of his tongue on her sex. "That feels so good cuck. Make your mistress happy. Clean me out."

She bore down expressing the last bit of his seed. Her cuck eagerly sucked it down. His hands caressed her buttocks as he slowly devoured her. She thought to herself how good her cuck made her feel, how she loved what he did with his mouth. What they did was nasty, but felt so good. It was wrong but she loved it. So different from what she did with her lovers. Their lovemaking was purer, Biblical, the joining of a man and a woman.

She couldn't remember the last they had intercourse, but it was no surprise as it was so unmemorable. She did remember it had been a long since he last climaxed. She remembered it as being very erotic. She caressed his penis with her toes. After he climaxed she made him lick her toes clean of his cum and then eat her again.

She could tell by the way he was eating her he was close to climaxing. She thought about stopping, letting him cool down, then having him resume eating her. She thought, "That would be cruel, but fun. But it wouldn't be part of the ritual. The first time needs to stay the same. Next time I can have my fun and I know there will be a next time."

She could hold off her own orgasm for as long as she wanted. It was funny how she had so much control and he had none. No wonder she dominated their marriage; she was strong and he was weak. There was nothing equal about their relationship. In spite of it or perhaps because it lacked equality other couples envied their marriage, the way he doted on her, not knowing the price he paid or the reasons for his slavish devotion. 

She took her hands, cradled the back of his head, and ground her crotch into his face, then manuevered her vagina to be in line with his tongue and held him as they fucked, she riding his extended tongue. She thought, "For having such a useless penis, he certainly has a long tongue."

Her juices were flowing down his face and onto the pillow. He was grunting as he licked, another sign his own orgasm was approaching. She decided to let him climax and to quit fighting the onset of hers. The two of them groaned in unison as they climaxed, he into his pajama bottoms and she at the end of his tongue.

Her legs felt heavy and weak. She told him to scoot over to the center of the bed. She brought her other leg onto the bed and continued kneeling. His head remained between her legs inches from her crotch. She rested her ass on his chest. "I hope I'm not crushing you, cuck."

"You're not," he assured her.

"That was so good. Did you?"

He sounded ashamed, "Yes."

She soothed him, "That's okay. I wanted you too. You earned your climax being so good the last few weeks, and especially tonight. I'm glad you didn't question me when I canceled our plans. You just went with the flow. That was much better than last time. Remember what happened last time."

"I do," he quietly replied remembering how furious she had been, how she gave him the cold shoulder the next day, pacing the house like some caged animal, waiting for the kids to leave, how the instant they left, she unleashed a verbal barrage telling him how he embarrassed her, asking him if he forgot who was in charge, demanding he go upstairs and wait for his punishment. He had hustled upstairs, stripped, and bent over the side of the bed, exposing his bottom to her. She appeared a few minutes later, opening the door with a flourish scaring him, slamming it hard enough to crack the frame, and using one of the ping pong paddles from the table in the garage lit his bottom up. She didn't stop even after he started crying and continued even as he begged her to. What stopped her was exhaustion.

She pulled her panties off, told him to lay on the floor, and with his ass beat red and throbbing rode his face in lightning time to an orgasm. His penis stayed shriveled. After she flooded his face she got up, went to the bathroom, urinated, came back, and told him to get on the bed face down so she could see her handiwork.

The bruising scared her. She felt bad for going overboard but reminded him as she applied ice and lotion he had no one to blame but himself. She reminded him she loved him, but it was his fault he needed disciplining. That had been years ago and he hadn't repeated that mistake again. He never questioned her decisions in public and rarely in private. She was the boss.

She thought, resting her bottom on his chest, her sex wet, puffy, pink, the hair matted, his eyes glued to her vagina's entrance, "they had come a long way." She felt very open, knew he was picturing a cock going in and out of that all that tender flesh, a soft, liquidy cave he would never dip his spelunker in again. She had let him get close the last few years, only to change her mind at the last minute, guiding his head to her clitoris, her hand wrapped around his shaft, using his penis to rub herself to orgasm, continuing to rub until she orgasmed again or he came, then making him lick her clean and to another orgasm.

Before, they hadn't been able to be as open. Neither was comfortable discussing what happened. As he got emotionally better able to handle her betrayal he found he needed to know details for the last piece of the puzzle to be complete, humiliation. She shared only the sparsest of the details at first and still held back details she wanted only her lover and she to know, but she needed her cuck as a sounding board for her relationships rarely had only a physical component, but an emotional one.

For being her husband he provided remarkably sage advice on how she should handle a lover. He was a cuck, but he thought like a man and he provided her insight into how a man thinks. 

She looked down at him, feeling stronger than she had in a long time. Her affairs made her feel in control. "Cuck," she asked, "do you want to hear about my evening?"

That crack in his voice when he answered delighted her, "Yes, but only if you want to tell me."

She liked his answer, always remembering to defer to her. She scooted down his chest, scooped his head up as she lowered her mouth to his and kissed him. His face smelled of her juices. She licked his cheek commenting, "I taste good. I do want to tell you, but only if you promise to stay awake. Otherwise it can wait until tomorrow."

She knew fatigue set in after he climaxed and it was late, but his answer would be a sign he remained committed to the journey.

"Yes, I'll stay awake."

She got off of him, "Good. I'll be back in a minute. You did hang my nightgown on the bathroom door."

"I did," her cuckold answered.

She returned a few minutes later, after having brushed her teeth, and urinated one last time for the evening. She didn't tell him to get up as she wanted him to wear their scent the entire night and to feel the cold wet spot in his pajama bottoms as a reminder of his status. 

She got in bed, turned towards him, and with her eyes locked onto his, her mouth an inch from his, began. Her hands under the covers she unbuttoned his pajama fly and extracted his penis. It was soft, but if past performance is an indication of future reliability she knew it wouldn't be soft for very long.

She looked into his eyes, thinking how he was aging well, appreciating his devotion to her. She loved her cuck and was glad they were growing old together. She softly asked, "C, do you know what serendipity is?"



Chance Encounter Ch. 02



They all fall onto the bed together in a heap of molten flesh and cum. Angel laying between them they both fold their arms across her tummy and breasts, kissing at her sweet tender skin. In moments they all fall asleep this way, with warm glows on their faces. A couple of hours later Angel awakes and slips out from under them. She quietly showers and dresses and smiling back at them steps out of the door, knowing that she will never see either of them again. 



Chance Encounter Ch. 02a



I was whistling the entire way up the steps to the front door of my apartment. I slid the key in the lock and turned the door opened and I reached around and flicked on the overhead light. My jaw dropped when I looked and saw the condition of my apartment. I suddenly realized that besides being a geek, sadly I was also a slob. I stepped in and closed the door behind me and did a quick walk thru it was worse than I feared the whole place was a wreck! There was no way in hell I could by myself put this place back together again. I needed help and now, and in a panic I reached for the phone and starting dialing my mom’s number then stopped. In my alarm I had completely forgotten she was five years dead. I had to think straight, my sister, she would help, I hope. I picked up the receiver and dialed her number, please be home! It was a Friday night and the chances that she would be there were nil and, “Hello?”

“KarenohmygodIneedyourhelpthereisa girlcomingoverandmyplaceisawreck!”

“David, David is that you? Calm down what’s the matter?” I took a deep breath and spoke coherently this time.

“I have a date coming over and my place is a wreck please I need your help!” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Karen?”

“My older brother has a date?” Silence. “It is my sworn duty to help you out, are you still at the same address?”

“Yep, the door will be open.” Click, she was gone. I put the phone down and overwhelmed had no idea where to begin. With no better idea I grabbed a box of trash bags and proceeded to pick up the boxes and various containers of take out food scattered all about the place. By the time I heard the car door outside I had collected seven bags of garbage and they were taken out. The door opened and five women stepped in my sister and four lovely strangers. She looked about and nodded, “Let’s get started girls. Tanya you take the kitchen. Sarah you and Corinne take the living room here. Megan you take the bathroom. Now brother you and I will take the bedroom. The rest will be here shortly.”

“Rest, who are these women?”

“My sorority sisters, I told them your predicament and they all offered to pitch in.” She smiled a secret little smile. “And I told them you have a Huge Cock.” I was stunned, embarrassed with a pinch of mortification. Then I looked at the clock and panicked, “she’ll be here in less than three hours!” 

“Then we better get going, hurry up.” We stripped the bed and replaced with a clean sheet and pillowcases. My dirty laundry was collected and appropriate clothing was set out. “You better shower…” A scream came from the bathroom, “that was Megan!” All the girls assembled at the bathroom door where Megan stood pale faced and shaking. My sister took her in her arms, “Megan what’s wrong?” She couldn’t speak she just pointed at the toilet. My sister nodded and ushered everyone out then shut the door five minutes later there was series of flushes and she opened the door sweating and looked me dead in the eye. “We need to talk, later, that was...” she closed her eyes took a deep breath of fresh air snapped back to attention, “later.” Sis walked into the kitchen, “Damn fine job!” She slapped Tanya on the ass who yipped in a pleasant sort of way. “We are ready for the food to arrive. Could you set up the table please?” Then she turned to the living room and whistled, “Nice, very nice job, the carpet is fucked but nothing we can do about that. Why don’t you ladies help my brother into the shower?” Soon I was pulled/pushed into the bathroom which was immaculate. The tiles shone, I had forgotten they were white, then my shirt was being pulled off and my jeans undone and tugged down. My underwear soon followed and my socks were dragged off last of all. I stood there in the buff as the girls crowded in starting my water and ogling me. Whispers of ‘she was right’ and ‘oh my look at that thing’ and ‘I wonder what it tastes like?’ 

A voice called out, “Water is ready!” and I was guided into the stream of the falling water and the sliding door mercifully closed behind me. I am not used to that sort of attention. I stuck my head under the water and let it wash away the funk and fear. Those girls were ready to eat me alive, a nice way to go that. My dick started to swell at the thought of being shared by so many. But there was no way that was gong to happen so I turned with my back to the water and grabbed my soap and got all nice and lathered up. I was soaping up my dick just as the sliding door opened and Tanya, quite naked, stepped in. 

“Your sis wanted you to know that the food arrived.” My eyes were roaming over her slim body, her tits were sorta small but her legs went on forever. She never spoke another word she took my cock in hand and helped me soap it up. I groaned as she squeezed me now and again. Smiling devilishly she then turned me around and ran her fingers over it as the water washed the soap away. Then her hands turned me around and she kneeled and took me into her mouth. I watched as this petit leggy brunette slid half my cock down her throat then started swirling her tongue along the length. She made a happy humming noise all the while that I more felt than heard. Her head moved forward and back taking more and more of me in her mouth with each pass.

“Tanya, you are needed in the kitchen!” My dick popped out of her mouth.

“Just a minute!” She yelled, sounding loud in the confines of the shower.

“No! Now young lady.” My sister had them under her thumb. Not surprising really she had me under it most of my life. 

“Damnitalltohell!” She muttered and planted a final kiss on the head as she rose winked at me and left. 

I stood there shaking my cock iron hard and the surreal feeling settling in. ‘What the fuck was going on?’ This was the strangest day of my life. I turned back to the water and ducked my head in and wetted my hair. I turned around and grabbed the shampoo and plopped a half dollar sized blob of shampoo in my palm and started working it into my hair. I closed my eyes and tried to relax but couldn’t keep Jesse out of my mind. Her mind-blowing tits and ass and brrrr I shivered as a draft of cold air hit me. I returned to the list of things I was going to do to her. Suddenly a warm hand wrapped around my cock and wet lips surrounded me and involuntarily my hips rocked just a bit forward and back fucking her mouth, whoever it was. The mouth worked in perfect timing with my hips the tongue working hot magic over the sensitive underside. I groaned loudly as her hand came into play stroking lightly milking me nicely. I was rocking pretty far when,

Beep…beep…beep, my pager went off my head spun around and suddenly then there was a burning in my left eye. “Shit!” I cried out, “I got soap in my eyes, hold on let me rinse and you can…” I quickly turned around and rinsed the shampoo from my head and eye. I turned back but whoever it was had left. “Fuck!” I shouted, whoever it was, was a wonderful cocksucker. I was in lust with that mouth. I cursed and looked down at my swollen dick. I needed release before Jesse got here; it isn’t like I can meet her at the door like this. So I did what any man does at that time, I took matters into my own hands, literally. I closed my eyes and imagined Jesse on her knees in the shower with me, he breasts swinging just a little as she lowered herself. Then my hand became her hand lightly stroking the length, saw her licking her lips wanting me in her mouth. Then the feeling of her mouth and tongue working over my length moving faster and faster still. My fist was a blur as I got myself off. I groaned just a bit as I felt myself nearly ready to blow. The door to the shower opened and my sister stuck her head in just as…

“Hey are you going to be in here…” I covered her face and shirt with my cum. I would have laughed if I weren’t so embarrassed. It reminded me of the old movies and the pie fights. She licked her lips and then smacked them together and without missing a beat. “I take it you ready now?” My dick shrunk but remained semi-hard; there was something disturbingly erotic about her licking my sperm off her face. I grabbed a towel and raced to the bedroom to dress leaving my sister in the bathroom to clean up. 

Dressed and ready my sister made her appearance after the ‘bathroom incident’ with a smile and a chuckle. “Ok ladies last minute inspection and then we are out of here.” I followed her as she inspected the bedroom she nodded, then the living room another nod and finally the kitchen, “everything appears in good order. Let’s move those vehicles and give lover boy here some privacy.” The girls all said their quick farewells and left my sister was the last out the door. 

“Thanks,” I said, “for everything. You are a miracle worker.” I noticed my sperm staining her shirt. “Do want another shirt to wear, I mean…” She looked down and giggled again.

“Nahhh! I’ll just keep it as a reminder.” I blinked a lot, but before I could respond she continued, “as the day my big brother became a man.” Relief flooded me for a long moment there was an awkward silence then with a peck on the cheek she was gone. She made the sidewalk quickly and then disappeared around the corner I shook my head clear of cobwebs and walked around my transformed apartment. There were hand towels hanging in the bathroom and every surface was clean and shiny. The kitchen was transformed, the lighting was dimmed and two unlit candles sitting in brass holders were on the kitchen table. And there were clean dishes drying by the sink and two pots simmering on the stove. I inspected their contents one was pasta of some sort and the other contained a meat sauce that made my mouth water. I found a note from Tanya sitting next to the dishes.

‘Keep the heat under the pots for another five minutes or as you are reading this, turn them off!’ She had scrawled a cute smiley face then the note continued. “There is a box of wine in the fridge, don’t forget to toast before you start eating. A girl loves a romantic toast. If this doesn’t work out, here’s my number.’ Lo and behold there was a phone number followed by two others in hurried handwriting. I turned the burners off on the stove and placed the note in my pocket when the doorbell rang. My heart skipped in my chest and I took a nice long breath and walked calmly to the door. Jesse was there but transformed, gone were the baggy clothes and hair pinned into place. Her hair cascaded down well past her shoulders and framed her heart shaped face nicely. The sweatshirt was replaced by a lace up top of silky black material and painted on her were a pair hip hugging bell bottoms that appeared like a second skin. 

“Please come in.” My mouth was dry as I stepped aside and watched her walk in. Her butt did this kind of sashay thing when she moved. I closed the door, “I hope you’re hungry I fixed a little dinner.” Her face lit up and I motioned for her towards the kitchen my eyes followed every step of hers, damn but her walk was sexy! “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll pour us some wine and dish it out.” Silently she found a seat at the table while I got two nice glasses from the cabinet that the girls must have brought, fluted crystal that glittered like ice in the subdued lighting. I found a note over a plastic container. ‘Chilled broccoli, serve with dinner.’ I thanked my sister again as I set the container out filled the glasses with the white zinfandel from the box and turned to see her sitting at the table. Her eyes were focused on me with an emotion I could only decipher as worship. “You look so beautiful.” I handed her a glass and noticed the two candles on the table unlit. I reached down for the lighter sitting at the foot of one of the candleholders. 

Jesse looked angelic under candlelight the flickering radiance transformed her into an otherworldly beauty. I swallowed hard as I raised my glass for a toast. She came to her feet quickly glass in hand her cheeks burning red with color. “To my student, may her teacher never disappoint her.” Our glasses rang with a single perfect note and I sipped my wine never breaking eye contact with her. She sipped and then set her glass down and took mine right out of my hand. She leaned in and kissed me, her lips were wet and my breath was stolen during that eternal moment of our first embrace. Her body molded to me and our tongues dueled frenetically as I gasped for breath drowning in her kiss. I took a step back breathless and my heart pounding in my chest. I swallowed and croaked, “um dinner?”

“Yes please I am very hungry.” The fevered look in her eye speaking more than food, I was on the menu tonight. I staggered over to the dishes and took two plates and place a bed of pasta covered with the sauce and ringed by the broccoli on each. Silverware was already set out along with napkins Tanya didn’t miss a thing. We ate in silence I filled my glass and hers twice before the meal was done. I am not a wine drinker and I think both of us were a bit tipsy when we rose and staggered to the couch. I wasn’t exactly slurring or anything but I was surely feeling no pain. 

“Where do we start?” she asked as I leaned over for another kiss. Again that electric contact as our lips touched and my arms circled her and drew her closer to me. I could feel her breasts pressing against my chest the smell of her, vanilla mixed with something more sublime. When we came up for air we were both gasping and hungry for more. I was absolutely rock hard and just from a kiss oh yes the evening looked quite interesting indeed. “What next?” she panted as I took her hands and placed then in her lap. I untied the bow in her top and began loosening the criss cross of strings so I could remove it. I dragged it out and saw her bite her lip in anticipation.

“This my dear is called teasing.” Her hands left her lap and began roaming over mine. Her fingers deftly traced the outline of my cock. 

“You mean like this?” She was a quick learner. I nodded and she continued to trace and rub on me while I hurried to get her top off and start feasting on her nipples. Finally with a bit of help her top was on the floor and my lips and tongue were teasing her breasts. I licked and sucked her nipples while she moaned and gasped and whispered in my ear, “I like that!” and, “Oh yes!” Her hands continued to tease me but at some point her desires reached a new point and I felt her nimble little fingers find my zipper and down it went then she fished around and gently freed me. Her hands felt so cool against my warm flesh, I groaned as she began to stroke me. I broke away long enough to remove my shirt and pull her against me flesh against flesh. Her hardened nipples felt great rubbing along my chest. 

“Can you teach me to give head now?” I blinked never having met such an eager young girl before. I nodded and stood up, kicked off my shoes and shed pants and underwear. I sat back down on the couch and took a deep breath, here goes.

“Do you want to just give head or do you want to swallow too?” Jesse thought it over for a long moment. 

“Well how about we take it one thing at a time?” 

“Good answer, no reason to rush.” I rubbed my hands together, “now why don’t you kneel down in front here, yes very nice view.” There was something about her kneeling there so eager to please me. I took my cock in hand and pointed to parts and described what I liked as far as treatment. “But the key is take your time and enjoy yourself.” She nodded and looked down and lowered her head to my hardened flesh. I could feel her breath on me and I gasped as her tongue flickered out to tease the head. Then like a lollipop she ran her tongue up and down the length, her eyes were closed and a slight smile on her face. After a few minutes and feeling braver she placed just the tip in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it tasting the precum now oozing from the tip. She lapped at it and smacked her lips and continued to suck and lick the head. My toes were beginning to bury themselves into the carpet. Then she put the second inch of me in her mouth and bobbed her head just a bit getting used to the feeling. I groaned loudly as she did this alternating between that and panting. Another inch disappeared and she was in a nice groove as she alternated between things I suggested and other things as well. She sucked hard and continued to bob her head a bit faster now. Then she returned to licking all the length getting it nice and wet. My breathing was becoming erratic as my orgasm built. Jesse looked up into my eyes as she took me in her mouth again. Then inch-by-inch all of me disappeared down her throat, her eyes twinkled as she began to deep throat me. Her head bobbed up and down faster and faster as her hand joined the mix. I was panting and groaning as my cock swelled, “I’m gonna…” I never finished it as my orgasm ripped through me and I shot into her waiting mouth, she swallowed twice but then couldn’t keep up and spat up on the rug.

“I am so sorry.” She just waved me off until the spell had passed. When she could speak again she was smiling.

“No I wanted to try and see if I could do it. I didn’t expect so much that’s all.” I got up and refilled our wine glasses. When I returned she had shed her pants and was bent over grabbing her ankles. My cock stirred at this inviting sight. 

“Oh my! What brought that on?” I asked.

“I figured turn about was fair play.” She wiggled for me and I couldn’t help but oblige her. I walked up and stood behind her and let my fingertips trace patterns across her butt. “More teasing?” She asked as I touched everywhere but between her lovely cheeks. I nodded and ran my nails next in circling patterns over her and the scent of vanilla mingled with the feminine scent of her sex. She moaned softly for me begging me in her way for my hands to move down. I stood back and looked at the sight once more. Her panty clad bottom and the shapely legs that supported it were very enticing indeed. I returned and took her panties by the waistband and slowly drew them off watching as her pussy was revealed centimeter by centimeter. I blew on it as I knelt behind her dragging the underwear down to her ankles. 

“Don’t move.” I whispered and she kept the position as I placed my face near her sex and lightly blew on it sending shivers all over. I wet a finger with my tongue and traced her lips with it followed by a deep female groan. Jesse’s sex was drenched from sucking me; then there was all the teasing she had received, good I say. I inserted a finger up to the first digit and moved it up and down getting a most satisfactory moan from the young lady. She was rocking a bit trying to get my finger deeper in her. “If you are not good we stop.” Her movement ceased immediately and she waited patiently. “That’s better.” While I teased her it gave me time to recoup from that toe curling blowjob. “Now where was I?” I paused and licked two fingers this time and teased her lips and opening with those. “Oh yes now I remember!” I inserted both up to the second knuckle and listened to her breath catch and watched her body stiffen. I began to move them in and out and allowed her to rock with the motion burying them. Jesse began to pant and groan this brought new life to my cock as I imagined myself buried deep in her. “Do you want me inside of you?” She could only nod and try to entice me by whimpering. “Then tell me.” I whispered as I leaned in and licked her clit as my fingers continued their work. When my tongue flickered her tiny nub of flesh Jesse’s head shot up and she squealed and cried out.

“Yessss, lick me, oh yeah I like that!” I nuzzled and nibbled her flesh my fingers going from damp to soaked in seconds flat. I moved them slower now in and out mesmerized by her scent and her noises that she made. Every whimper and each grunt of desire fed my lust and made me that much harder. 

“Are you ready for the next step?” I took her hand and steadied her to her feet.




Chance Encounter Ch. 02a



“What comes next?” Jesse’s eyes were feverish with desire, “it doesn’t matter.” Her smile was serpentine and never reached her bright reptilian eyes. She was mine to do with tonight there were no boundaries now. I raised my hand and she took it and I led her into the bathroom and started a shower. A memory of those mysterious lips flashed in my brain. My desires were divided Jesse and the phantom woman who drove me mad in the shower earlier. As I waited for the water to heat up I felt Jesse’s hand reach around and stroke my cock. “Mmmmm you are so hard! Is that for me?” I groaned as her fingers squeezed and she began to stroke me. 

“Yes,” the temperature of the water was just right, “time for our shower. I need to have your tits, lick them, suck them…” I turned and looked at her face and it was radiant with perfect lust.

“They are yours, hell I am yours, tonight.” Her voice was soft and subservient. I stepped in the stream of water and drew her in next to me. I slid the door closed and we stood in the stream looking each over her body was succulent. My hands moved up to cup her breasts my fingers finding her nipples. She moaned and her eyes fluttered shut but that wasn’t enough. I shifted her so that her back was to the water and I lowered my lips to her tender nipples. My tongue flickered out tasting her flesh and feeling Jesse stiffen as I drew it into my mouth. I suckled and with my free hand teased her other nipple. Her moans drove me mad with desire I kneaded her breast as I fed from the other. I swapped from breast to breast nibbling and suckling and kneading until her arms came up and stopped me. Jesse was panting and took a long moment for her to speak.

“Stop….” I looked into her face she was flushed, “I need you inside of me please!” 

I nodded and pointed to my cock, “It needs some lubrication.” Her smile was beaming as she shifted her grip to my shoulders and forcibly traded places my back to the water. She looked me in the eye as she lowered herself and took my hardened flesh in her hand and then her mouth. I forced myself to keep eye contact with her as she once more began to lick and suck me. She paid homage to my flesh worshipping my cock till it stood straight away from my body. The heat of the water and her mouth twin sirens that seduced me body and soul; without breaking eye contact she rose to her feet and stood waiting for me.

“Make love to me.” How could I refuse? I nodded and turned her around facing away from me and told her to bend over. Again she wiggled her butt at me as I teased her opening with the head of my cock. She stopped moving waiting for me to enter her. I eased just the head into her waiting sex. I couldn’t hear her over the rushing water but I could feel her as she stiffened just a bit. Then ever so slowly I inched deeper and deeper inside waiting for the inevitable barrier but felt no resistance. But soon I was hilted in her incredibly tight depths. Consumed in the moment I began to move in and out of her slowly but building speed quickly as her voice rose above the water. “Oh, oh, oh!” A rising crescendo of lust from my angel’s voice as my hands settled onto her hips and I began to make quick stabbing thrusts into her. Each thrust met with a backward motion of her own. I alternated my pace and depth to keep her body off balance until I knew she was ready to cum. As I was making nice long slow thrusts into her, her body began to quiver and shake. “I am so close…” she muttered as I once more began to pound into her. Our flesh slapping against each other as a long drawn out cry came from deep in her lungs and I could feel her pussy constrict around me. I thrust one last time hilting myself and feeling her orgasm trip into a second round of bodily spasms. She looked over her shoulder in shock her eyes wide in astonishment as her second climax subsided. Jesse’s breath was coming in gasps as she recovered. “Oh…my…god…!!!”

I waited until she had some strength left before I continued to move inside of her. She moaned and groaned freely now as I adjusted my angle of entry to rub her clit better, all to heighten her experience. I closed my eyes and again the mystery lips invaded my mind and I let her pussy replace the lips and grunting moved faster and faster in and out. My pace became a manic thing, I had to cum and soon. My thrust became long fast jabs into her jarring her body as I strove to climax as hard as I could. Jesse was cheering me on, her dirty talk growing more vocal as we continued. “Oh yes cum in me. Yessss such a hard cock in my tight little pussy.” Her shy persona shed in the watery confines of my shower. “Fuck me! Fill me with your cum!” She cried out as I began to swell inside of her my own climax rising quickly. “Oh yeah I can feel it! Cum for me!” As the first spurts shot in her we cried out in unison, a duet of lust. I continued to plunge into her until my strength left me and I had to lean on her for support. My heart was hammering in my ears drowning out the water from the shower. I struggled to catch my breath as I stepped away from her and slid from her tightness. Leaning against the wall of the shower I moved into the warm stream to clean up Jesse followed me and put her head on my chest letting the water do all the work.

“I can’t wait till the next lesson.” She whispered as I smiled weakly and pulled her tightly into my arms. 

“Neither can I, neither can I.”



Chance Encounter Ch. 03



Copyright 2006, 2007

CHAPTER 3 -- A Price Must be Paid

Paul buzzed Marge.

"Marge, come in for a minute, please," Paul spoke into the speaker.

Marge Bates had been Paul's secretary for over a dozen years. When Paul ascended to top management, he brought Marge with him. They were a likely pair. She was a prim and proper type, about the same age as Paul. Marge was quiet and correct at all times. She was tall, neither slender nor stocky. Her usual manner of dress at work was a pleated plaid skirt with a coordinating blazer. Sometimes, she wore a suit. Her brown hair showed some streaks of gray. She wore glasses for reading, which hung on her neck by a chain when she didn't need them.

She was a widow, her husband losing his battle to cancer several years prior to Sally's untimely death. Sally and Paul befriended Marge in those sad times. There wasn't a lot that they could do, but as she had told them, it was enough to know that they cared. When Sally was killed Marge understood Paul's suffering more than anyone else could. She returned the friendship bestowed on her. In his grief, Paul had become preoccupied and forgetful. Marge kept him on track. There were a few times that Marge spotted errors that Paul made, and made sure that no one knew of them.

Marge had excellent technical skills that Paul appreciated, but more than anything else, he knew that would be easier to break into Fort Knox than to induce Marge to betray a confidence. That was what Paul was counting on at that moment.

"Marge, sit down for a second, please," Paul asked as she entered the office.

When Paul said this she knew that she was to be burdened with another secret. 

"Marge, I need to let you in on something because this will probably pass by your desk, and I'll need to count on you to keep it between us," Paul started. Marge leaned forward, listening.

"I've started seeing someone—a woman—who lives in Chicago. I have feelings for her. I think that she likes me a little. I'm going to be making calls and traveling from time to time. I might need you to help me with some arrangements."

"Paul, I think that's wonderful!" Marge exclaimed. "Why the big secret? Is there something ... you know ...?"

"Oh, no! She's single and unattached, as I am. Unattached, that is, except to our jobs. We would just like to keep things low-key. It's easier that way. There is a little complication right now that's not of our making. She works for the same university as the one involved in that lawsuit against us. Ted Wilson told me it should be alright. That was a big relief. I'm going to call her and tell her in a few minutes." 

"Who else knows, Paul?" she asked.

"Jim Spencer, Harry Carmichael, and Ted Wilson," Paul answered. "I asked each of them to keep it quiet. When the time is right, we'll go public. This lawsuit makes it good sense to keep it under wraps for awhile."

Marge nodded. 

Paul settled back in his chair. He grimaced slightly, which made Marge know that he was about to ask a question that was difficult to push past his lips.

"Marge, do you think that I did the right thing in taking up with someone else? After all, Sally's been gone over five years and ..."

"Paul!" Marge interrupted. "Of course it's alright. Everyone, including me, has been wondering why you haven't. You know, Paul, sometimes you just think too much!"

"That's what everyone tells me," laughed Paul. "I thought so, but I needed to hear you say it. You always know what to do."

Marge cast her eyes down, and blushed slightly.

"C'mon, Paul, why would you ask these things of an aging widow?"

"Marge, why didn't you try to find someone after Carl?" Paul asked.

"Who says that I didn't?" she retorted. "The right person just didn't come along."

"Maybe 'yet' should be the operative word." Paul said. "You're still a pretty good looking female."

"Oh, stop it, Paul' you're embarrassing me!" she said, giggling.

They sat across the desk looking at each other for long seconds. Paul knew at that moment, as he had known scores of times before, that he was looking at a unique person that he could not do without. Marge adroitly crossed the line from secretary to friend to confidant, then back again.

"What would I do without you, Marge?" Paul asked. "Wait! Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Marge waved her hand at him to make light of the compliment.

"Give me that name and number and I'll put that call through for you," she said.

************* 

Marge buzzed. "Your call to Miss Mahoney is waiting, Mr. Crane." Marge always used 'Mr. Crane' when she might be overheard.

Paul picked up the phone.

Paul: Glenda, it's Paul. I have to talk to you about something important. Can you give me a minute?" 

There was a long silence. Paul waited for a response but there was none. He started speaking, anyway.

Paul: Glenda, there's a lawsuit involving ...

Glenda: I know about that, Paul. I can't talk now. I have to hang up. I'll call you from my home after work. I'm going home early this afternoon. I'll be home at four. I'll speak with you then. 

Glenda hung up.

Aside from Glenda's having to put him off, Paul could tell from her voice that she was upset. He knew immediately what it meant. Glenda had the same conversation with her employer that he had with Ted Wilson earlier in the day, but with a different result. The lawsuit would be a problem for them, after all. 

Paul had two and a half hours to wait for Glenda's call. The engineer in him made him set about seeking a solution to his and Glenda's problem. The man in him made him angry that unknown parties at Northwestern had thought it necessary to upset Glenda and to impose such a restriction on them. He was sure that it could be resolved. Sure, it might take some time to switch departments, or do what need be done. In the long run, he was convinced; it would be a tempest in a bureaucratic teapot.

He turned his attention to work projects. There was the analysis on the Corpus Christi Plant, the Engineering Standards Project Report, and he reminded himself to get filled-in by Jim Spencer on that junior engineer from the State Environmental Agency that he noticed the other day at the Peoria Plant meeting. Paul put in a call to Jim Spencer. He wasn't there, but left a voicemail. He turned to the recommendations in the Corpus Christi Analysis.

Paul had finished the Corpus Christi analysis and was halfway through the Standards Project Report when Jim Spencer appeared at his door. "Fill me in on that young lady who was at the table at the Peoria Plant meeting on the State side."

"Her name is Audrey Wright." Jim began. "She's not as young as she looks. She has a masters' degree from U of Illinois and has been with the Agency for three years. She came to them right out of school. That would make her about twenty-eight."

"What kind of engineering did she take her degree in?" Paul asked.

"Actually," Jim answered, "she's not an engineer at all. Her degree is in Environmental Science—undergrad in Biology. She's very intelligent."

"Do you think that she knows what Grafton was up to?" Paul asked.

"Hard to say," Jim said. "Before the meeting I would have said 'no', but saying what she did about him going to Montgomery, now I think that she did. I don't think she just blurted it out. That wouldn't be like her. She was pretending to be naïve, but I think that she was really trying to clue us in."

"Do you think that she'd help us get Grafton?" asked Paul.

"I think that she'd be our best hope. She already helped us once," replied Jim. "I wouldn't trust Morehead, though."

Paul nodded. He was determined to take Grafton to task, and if a Grafton-Hopkins-Montgomery link could be shown, it could be helpful to the lawsuit against Dunn Chemicals.

"I'm going to have Marge get a meeting with Wilton set up in Springfield. It will be to 'discuss the lawsuit', for the record." Paul said. "Once she has the date she'll let you know. I want you to call Miss Wright and set me up with her for the day before—secret and off the record. I don't want to be found calling her, myself. By the way, it is 'Miss' Wright?"

Jim nodded, and assured Paul that he would see to it.

"Now, Jim, let's change the subject. I want you to stay on top of the Peoria project, but there won't be much happening soon, because of the lawsuit. In the meantime, take over the Standards Project. Harlow just isn't getting it done. I'll let him know. You can keep him on as your number two man. He's good, technically, but needs better people skills." 

By the time Paul finished talking with Harlow it was ten minutes past four and Glenda hadn't called him. Lateness always concerned Paul. In his business, one hitch led to another, then another. He didn't want any more 'hitches' with Glenda. What they had found together had already defied all odds. Paul calculated them.

For example, he thought, what were the chances that Glenda would have spotted him in that store and then recognized him after all these years? What were the chances that they would have blended together so easily after so many years apart? Paul knew the longest odds; it was that he, a widower set in his own difficult ways, could be reopened by any woman. Glenda had untied the Gordian Knot named Paul Crane. He didn't know how she had done it, but she had made it look easy. Paul multiplied the probabilities together. The result made him feel very fortunate, indeed. 

Paul's phone rang and it interrupted his brooding. It was four-thirty. Marge told him that Glenda was on the line.

Glenda: Paul, I'm sorry. I told you that I would call you at four. I was putting it off. I just couldn't bring myself to make this call.

Paul: Glenda, I'm sure that this is over the lawsuit. Something can be done to straighten it out.

Glenda: No, Paul, it can't. They told me that if I didn't break it off with you that they would fire me. Paul, I don't want to do it, but I have to.

Paul winced as the he heard the words and Glenda began crying. It struck like a body blow. His vision of a solvable bureaucratic entanglement was destroyed. It would require something of greater proportion to make Glenda act this way.

Paul: Who is 'they', Glenda? Why can't you just ask for a transfer?

Glenda: I asked for a transfer, but they won't do it. It was my boss, Dean Judson. There was another man there. He's the client; his name is Hopkins.

It was all Paul had to hear. It was payback; it was what Hopkins meant by his threat when he called him. Hopkins' vendetta had escaped the bounds of business. It was personal.

Glenda: I would quit, Paul. I could find another job, but I can't do that. I need eighty points to retire at full pay. I'm fifty-four years old and have twenty-four years' service. That's seventy eight points. If I quit now, I'll lose half my retirement. I have no choice. They mean what they say. They even made me sign a paper letting them tap my phone. They might be listening right now. They have me cornered. I can't stand it, but I can't escape them.

Paul: It's my fault, Glenda. Hopkins has a grudge against me. He's getting at me by using you. Look! We can still see each other; we'll just have to careful.

Glenda: Paul, they even have pictures of us swimming nude in the lake!

Paul: In a year you'll have your eighty points. We'll just put it on hold until then.

Glenda: No, no, no! A year is too long. They will think of something else. No, it just has to be this way. I made you promise that you wouldn't try to possess me. That means that I can't do that to you, either. This was just not meant to be.

Paul: Take a few days and think in it. You'll feel differently in a few days. You won't have to use the phone. I'll give you my e-mail address.

Glenda: No, Paul. It won't work. It was never in the cards. I'll never regret that we came together, but now it has to be over. I'm so sorry. Good-bye, Paul.

Paul heard a loud click as Glenda hung up the phone. It rang in his ears like a gunshot. The pain that he felt was only surpassed with that when he was told that Sally had been killed, five years before. 

At Glenda's home her phone rang. She knew that it had to be Paul. She picked up the phone.

"Please, Paul," she cried into the phone, "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Glenda," the expressionless voice on the line said, "This is Dean Judson. At our meeting we neglected a detail. When you come in tomorrow, we will ask you to sign an additional agreement allowing us to set up a link to your computer that will allow us to monitor your e-mail."

Judson hung up; Glenda gasped. The tap on her phone was already in place. She sat motionless trying to understand what was happening to her. It had all turned upside-down so swiftly. Her memory of the weekend in the cabin with Paul was still fresh in her mind. It was like it hadn't yet ended. In the space of a single afternoon it had all reversed so cruelly. 

Humiliation ... isolation ... loss ... confinement ... dependency ... loneliness ... guilt ... injustice ... helplessness ... fear. The emotions descended upon her one by one in a heavy pall of acrid, black smoke that choked hope from her. It dragged her, unwilling but resigned, into compliance. Happiness and survival fought for the same space in her life. How many times had she learned that lesson? She had spoken the truth in the meeting that afternoon: she was a three-time loser.

It was a just result meted out by unjust men, she told herself. The events of her life flashed back to her. She saw the logic. If she had studied harder in high school ... the abortion ... the two divorces. She was convinced of God's retribution and despaired of God's mercy. It was not Paul's fault. She had been wrong to reach out for more. In her mind, she considered herself deserving of the punishment. In her heart, she wondered. Glenda buried her face in her hands, sobbing at first, and then wept for what was, what could have been, and the demise of what she had hoped for. 

*********** 

Paul sat at his desk trying to analyze the ugly turn of events. Hopkins struck at him with such venom that he had not expected. Yes, he had been tough on him after their latest meeting, but it was not enough to explain it. Paul could only fathom that Hopkins had stumbled on an opportunity that he couldn't resist. Paul had never gauged Hopkins' hate, but he should have. Because of his neglect, Glenda was suffering. Paul had no way to help or comfort her. It was a bitter sadness. 

Paul knew that his troubles over Glenda conflicted with his responsibilities to the Company. Surrendering on the lawsuit would give him a chance with Glenda, but would be against the interests of the Company. It tore at him. He knew that his personal problems would have to wait. He wondered if he had the integrity to stand up to it.

If Glenda had allowed him, he would have helped her fight her employer's edict. He had his own money to hire lawyers, and contacts to help her find a new job. The pension problems were real enough, but were only the surface of Glenda's agony. The Northwestern position is what she had carved out for herself, starting over two decades ago, from the ashes of what had become her life. Now it was in jeopardy. Worse yet, to save her job she had to accept things that, on a higher level, made the job not worth having.

Paul thought of her, sitting alone in her home in Chicago. Surely, she was in the throes of sorrow. She had no family or friends to help her, or even turn to for a shoulder to cry on. She had given in to tyrants, forced to accept the unacceptable. How could he blame her? Paul missed her already. It hurt to lose her. Loss was an old acquaintance of Paul's. Here it was again, an unwelcome guest—a squatter living again in his soul. It was true that the pain of the loss of Sally five years ago was worse by far. It wasn't the pain that Paul could not bear this time; it was the reintroduction of nothingness. He had finally purged it with so great an effort. Here it was returned. Paul had not wept openly in his adult life, even when Sally died. For the first time since those earlier days of sorrow, he cried internally for the person he knew could not hear him.

Anger ... vulnerability ... impotence ... suffering ... loss ... sorrow ... hate. The escalating feelings boiled in him as he sat brooding in his office. Who was Paul supposed to hate? Surely not Glenda; Hopkins deserved his contempt, but was too small a man to earn Paul's hate. Should he seek revenge and be just like him? He didn't know Judson. Paul reasoned that hatred would never be the answer. Anger would suffice, along with a deep sadness. He would lose, but he was determined that his antagonists would not win. 

People often told Paul that he 'thought too much', but sometimes it worked for him. 

By the time he finished his meditation is was nearly six-thirty. There was a knock on the door and Marge stepped in and closed the door behind her.

"I haven't seen you for a few hours. It has to mean that the call with Miss Mahoney didn't go well," she said.

"You always know the answer in advance, Marge."

"Only because I know you so well, Paul."

Paul narrated the story.

"I'm so sad for you, Paul. What are you going to do?" 

"I don't know, Marge," Paul sighed. "If I knew what to do, I would be doing it now."

"It's so unfair!" Marge said. 

"I'm back where I started."

"No, that's not true," Marge countered. "Now you've had a taste of not being alone. It was taken from you so cruelly. You're not even."

"You're not cheering me up, Marge," Paul said.

"Paul, you and I know loneliness like few people do. It's an understanding between us that makes us kindred souls."

What Marge said was so true. She had actually made him feel a little better, despite his protestations. She had said what he was thinking. They touched each other in that way. Paul guessed that it was a kind of therapy for Marge, too.

"Paul, let me make it easier for you. You should not be alone tonight. Let me stay with you."

"Marge, I don't think that would be right." 

"Have I aged so much? I didn't think so. I want to be with you. Paul, please say yes."

"Marge, you still have your looks. Looks are not the issue. We've known each other a long time. This could go all wrong. I won't risk it."

"Please, Paul!" she cried. "I haven't been with a man for eight years."

Her eyes welled with tears. Nevertheless, she jumped from her chair and onto Paul, seated behind his desk. Marge crushed her face to his, kissing him deeply and with hunger. Paul told himself to fight her off, but found his arms paralyzed, unable to push her away. Paul felt the wetness of Marge's tears on her skin. He gave in and kissed back. Marge felt good pressed against him. He wondered if the act he was committing was good or evil. 

"Please, Paul!" she whispered.

"Follow me home in your car." he said. 

************* 

Paul lived about fifteen minutes from the office. He drove up his driveway and Marge was right behind. Paul's house sat back on his property, so that Marge could park near the house and not be noticed.

During the drive Paul had reconsidered what was about to happen. It was so tempting. The promise of a human touch after sadness could be a balm to the body, if not the spirit. Glenda had shown him how soothing sex could be, and how it could solve loneliness and many other things. 

It was their closeness that tempted him to think that it might work out, just for a night. 

He waited for Marge inside the house. He would explain to her why it was all wrong. They would have a few drinks together—maybe a light dinner—and part, still friends. He watched Marge step from her car and then hurry into the house. She came through the door and ran into his arms.





Chance Encounter Ch. 03



Nurse Katy made her rounds checking her patient's vitals, waking them up from whatever dreams pleasant or not and in robotic fashion went about her duties. All was routine for the buxom brunette until she reached room 301, when she opened the door a few things happened quickly one after the other. She sniffed the air and there was the distinct odor of sex lingering still, the chemical reactions that followed were that her nipples hardened, her pussy got very wet very quickly and her breath quickened.  

"It smells like sex in here!" She muttered as she stepped inside. A figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped into a shaft of light cast from streetlights. "Maria, I should have known." Maria Esteban smiled brilliantly with hands on curvaceous hips.

"I couldn't resist," Maria purred.

What has gone on before.

Mike woke up on a bright and beautiful summer morning day. The naked body of Karen, the young secretary from work, was spooned against him and she was waking up too. She pressed her bubble butt against his groin which stirred eagerly. 

"Morning lover," she murmured as she turned to face him. Her hand drifted down between them. "God I love your cock!" This was their first time together since that accidental meeting at work where she tripped over him while he tied his shoe. Her hand squeezed and stroked him till he was fully erect. "Can I ride you this morning; you must be tired from the fucking you gave me last night?" Mike nodded and she climbed on top of him and slowly eased his thick long cock into her hot wet depths. "Ooh yes! So thick! So long!" Mike leaned up and captured a nipple in his mouth and suckled while she gently rode up and down. Karen threw her head back and cried out louder and louder not caring who might hear. "Oh god yes! Fuck me Mike!" He lay back down as she rode him faster and harder now, his hands went to her hips and pulled her down onto him impaling her deeper now. Mike thrust upwards and pulled her down drilling as deep as he could into her. She cried out but nothing intelligent she was in the grips of a powerful orgasm. He could feel her pussy contract around his cock and her shudder of ecstasy as she was fully engulfed in pleasure. When the climax had passed she fell forward on top of him her breasts pressing against his chest. Her breath coming in quick deep gasps. "I never get tired of fucking you." 

"I'm glad, if you want a key just ask." He paused, "you could 'cum' and go as you please." Her answer was to lift herself off his cock and lowered her body till her breasts were wrapped around his cock. She pushed them together and licked the tip when it emerged as she titty-fucked him. 

"You like?" she asked as she licked and sucked the head as her soft breasts teased an orgasm from him. His gasp of pleasure and slight thrusts of his hips all the answer she needed. "Good." She slowly moved her tits around him wanting to get as strong a climax as she could from her lover. His pleasure so important to her that all her attention was focused on him and not the clock on the end table; long minutes went by as she moved and sucked and licked wanting to taste his cum as it shot down her throat. Mike grabbed the covers and grunted louder and louder. She replaced her tits with her mouth and she stroked him hard and quick and he came hard down her throat and she milked every ounce from him. She swallowed quickly to catch each and every drop and only after he was done did she glance at the clock. "Aw fuck I'm gonna be late for work." She jumped off the bed and leaned over to kiss him quickly. "See ya tonight." And with a flurry of activity she was dressed and out the door in record time.

"Now that is a perfect way to wake up." He said to the empty air. Grinning from ear to ear Mike showered, dressed and headed for the park. It was going to be a glorious day. 

Mike walked through the park amidst others who were walking, riding and skating. He watched the girls clad in t-shirts and short shorts. One skater in particular caught his attention, blond with long legs and a mighty fine rack. She was gliding through skaters and walkers alike and with each step she came closer and closer. The impact was sudden and painful; she had lost control and collided, her tits striking Mike in the face his last memory was moving backwards then pain and darkness. 

When Mike awoke he was on a stretcher and a needle pricked his arm and the pain in his side and head faded. A face looked down at him, a young Latin woman with fine breasts that were fighting the uniform she was wearing. Maybe it was drug or the perpetual horniness he suffered from but his pants swelled as his cock hardened. The doors of the ambulance slammed shut and the young woman looked down, "oh my...we are excited are we?" 

"Nice tits...he...he...he..." Maria Esteban smiled and unzipped her uniform top exposing her firm young breasts. John licked his lips. Maria mirrored his action, "I love to suck cock!" she whispered as she unzipped him and freed his cock. The ambulance jerked into motion and the siren wailed. Mike tried to hear her but failed. 

"We don't have much time." She lowered her lips to his cock and eagerly sucked and licked at him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and stroked furiously. Mike pulled against his restraints his moans of pleasure drowned out by the siren. Maria watched his face light up as she worked hard to make him spurt down her throat. Pity they had so little time, his cock was big and great to look at. How good it would feel inside of her. She sucked and bobbed her head as her hand worked in concert. When she was done she would milk every last drop of delicious cum from him.

Two minutes out.

His cock was swelling already and his breath came in ragged gasps. She stared at him, the hunger to be pierced by this wonderful flesh made her pussy drip for him. 

Ninety seconds out.

His hips began to thrust up driving his cock deep down her throat. She sucked all the more eagerly. 

One minute out.

His breathing became harsher and his cock swelled even larger still. 

Forty-five seconds out.

The first spurt of hot cum hit the back of Maria's throat and she swallowed instinctively.

Thirty seconds out.

She stroked and sucked stealing every drop of cum.

Twenty seconds out.

She licked the last drops off of him and tucked him back in and zipped up his pants.

Ten seconds out.

The ambulance slowed and the siren died and Mike slurred, "Thanks...for...showing...those great tits."

Five seconds out.

Zip went the uniform top. "Thank you lover," Maria purred. John's eyes closed and a shit eating grin was etched on his face as he was wheeled into the ER.

Later that night...

Maria's shift ended and she sat in her car and debated. Mike's cock still in her mind, her pussy was soaked...again. She started the car and pulled out into the night. John awoke in the late afternoon, the ER doctor standing at the foot of his bed.

"Hello Mike, you took a nasty bump on the head as well as two cracked ribs." He paused. "You are here for observation for a concussion; you will be released tomorrow morning barring complications." A quick check of his vitals and Mike was alone in his hospital room. Two hours passed when the door opened and Maria Esteban stepped in.

"I thought you were a dream," Mike muttered. Maria only smiled. "Are you back for more?" Her smile broadened. "Be gentle, two cracked ribs and all that." She finally spoke.

"I will be very gentle, my Pet." She turned off the lights, leaving just enough light from the street to navigate by. Maria was no longer wearing her EMT uniform; the curvy Latina was wearing a white silk blouse and a short black skirt. As she sauntered over she undid button after button till her finely formed breasts were revealed. "Do you like?" Mike's voice left him but her nodded. "Good." She stopped and turned around and in one fluid motion bent over and grabbed her ankles allowing her skirt to ride high on her shapely ass. Pale light accentuated the globes of her ass cheeks. "And that?" Mike swallowed hard and nodded again. "Tell me what you want!"

Somewhere Mike regained the power of speech. "Play with your pussy." Maria purred and slid a finger into her soaked sex. She had dreamt all day of surrender to him, giving anything he wanted. "Come on, finger fuck yourself." He said more forcefully, the squish-squish sound filled the air accompanied by Maria's moans of pleasure. Mike lifted his covers and revealed his iron hard cock.

"Oh my!" Maria groaned.

"Get over here and suck my cock." She complied without hesitation. Maria gently climbed on his bed and facing away from him took his cock into her warm eager mouth. Her pussy was scant inches from his face but his injury kept him from leaning up and licking that delicious looking slit. He could however slide two fingers into her sex and tease her clit with his thumb. As her head bobbed up and down Mike's fingers kept time moving in and out of her now drenched pussy. "Eager to ride that cock of mine?" She let him pop out of her mouth.

"Yes please," she pleaded. 

"Turn around so I can get a better look at you." Maria slowly turned around and thrust her breasts in his face. Who was Mike to refuse an opportunity? He suckled a nipple while his free hand cupped and teased the other breast. "Have a seat," he muttered as he switched to suckle the other breast. Maria adjusted her position and guided his saliva slick cock into her fiery depths. The thick head of his cock opened her wide as the sinuous shaft followed rubbing her clit inch by healthy inch until she was completely impaled. They moaned in unison. Mike heard the door open and pulled the curtain as quietly as he could until it was mostly closed. Stealthy steps made their way up to his bed. Maria sat transfixed by his cock and the stranger.

"Mr. Jones?" Mike looked over and saw the girl who had run him over with the long blond hair, blue-gray eyes, full lips and a set of tits to die for.

"Yes?" Maria began to very slowly lift and drop using just enough motion to distract him; Mike let a slow moan escape his lips, "ohhh."

"Are you in pain?" the girl asked. Mike looked down watching the rocking motion of his dick buried in the EMT's pussy.

"No..."

"Such a brave man," the girl's body language spoke volumes.

"Why are you here, so late I mean?" For an answer she turned around and pulled down the running shorts she was wearing revealing the finest ass bisected by a bright red thong. When she turned to face him she was lifting up her t-shirt revealing those amazing breasts trapped in a matching red bra. "Oh my god!" John muttered torn between the tight clenching pussy wrapped around him and the nearly naked coed. 

"I felt so bad I wanted to make it up to you, maybe I could climb up and..."

"Oh no! It would be too crowded..." Maria almost laughed out loud "...I mean my ribs." Pause. "Perhaps you could bring that chair over here bend yourself over it and I could finger fuck you till my ribs are good enough for an honest grudge fuck."

"Oh...yes...please..."

Without hesitation she walked over her bare ass moving oh so nicely from side to side then bent over and picked up the chair and carried it back placing it close enough for him to reach but not at an angle she could see Maria already impaled on his cock. 

"Perhaps more light?" she cooed.

"No!" he nearly panicked again; light would give away the Latina's silhouette behind the curtain. "...no...your skin painted in the moonlight so much better." Maria mouthed the words, 'nice one."

"Do you really think so?" She said as she unhooked her bra revealing those perfect globes of flesh. Her pale nipples were erect and she peeled off her thong it was clearly soaked from her drenched pussy. "Ready tiger?" Mike nodded as she knelt in the chair and her upper body bent over the back of the chair. Mike reached over and lightly traced her pussy lips. The young woman wiggled in delight. Then he ran his hand over each perfect cheek; all the while Maria rode him softly and deeply. Mike grabbed a handful of left cheek and squeezed her firm young flesh. 

"Damn girl that is a mighty fine ass you have," the words were barely out of his mouth when two things happened at the same time. First he drove two fingers deep into the wet sex of the coed and second Maria came hard her pussy convulsing around him. Mike began to finger fuck the girl while he looked up and mouth the words, 'keep going.' Maria looked pleasantly flushed and she was biting her lip to keep from crying out. Her response she did just that and she started to ride him once again but this time slower with longer movements. She wanted to feel each and every inch of him inside her. Mike looked back to the girl he was fingering and her head was down, eyes closed and her breathing was deep and rhythmic matching his finger motion precisely. She was grunting and groaning over and over. 

"...yeah baby...finger my pussy...just...like...that..." Mike drove his fingers deeper and harder now with short powerful thrusts. Her grunting grew louder as the pleasure in them both built and built. Mike and the coed were racing together towards climax. Mike's cock swelled as his orgasm neared, Maria dismounted and knelt between his legs and took him once more into her mouth. His cock tasted of their mingled juices as she stroked him hard and fast sucking and licking to bring him off with as powerful an orgasm as was possible. Mike's breathing became labored and the girl bent over the chair bit her lip as her climax crashed down on her like a mountain and Mike was moments behind grunting loud as he gushed into Maria's mouth and pulsed down her throat and she swallowed her stroking milking every greedy drop for more. 

Mike pulled his fingers from the girl's pussy and she sat down hard in the chair. There was a deep hunger in her eyes. "I want your cock in me..." she produced a business card, so besides being a student she was a consultant for a business. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, she smelled of lavender, sweat and sex, "heal quickly." She dressed, leaving the thong behind as a keepsake no doubt, and left the room quietly. When the door closed Maria sat next to him her pussy still tingling.

"Man that was intense!" she broke the silence, "I mean...if you and her hook up...damn!" Mike nodded and reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her into a deep sensual kiss. Time slowed...stopped. When he let go she just hung there suspended above him. She looked down at him worship in her eyes. He scribbled down his address and handed her the paper.

"There will be a spare key under the mat, come in to the bedroom, undress, crawl into bed and suck my cock like your life depended on it."

"Yes sir." Maria dressed still caught up in the euphoria as Mike watched her sultry walk towards the door, his gaze on her perfect ass. She nearly reached the handle when it turned and she ducked to the side. Nurse Katy entered sniffed the air and muttered.

"It smells like sex in here!" Maria stepped out and revealed herself; there was a sense of recognition between the women. "Maria, I should have known." Maria Esteban smiled brilliantly with hands on curvaceous hips.



Chance Encounter Ch. 03



Chapter 3

Serendipity is a propensity for making fortuitous discoveries while looking for something unrelated

They lay in her bed, she in a freshly washed nightgown and he in his cum soaked pajama bottoms. They were under the covers snuggling. Even in the dark she could clearly make out his face and he hers. She stared into his blue eyes loving him very much because of his weakness. She considered herself the luckier of them. He could have married a different woman and been happy albeit not totally satisfied, but she would have been miserable married to the kind of man she was sexually drawn to. She needed the attention of other men, always had and she concluded always would. She was lucky to have found him.

She ran her hands over his back. Even after all these years he remained lean. His face remained youthful as did his personality. She kissed him softly on the lips, noting how his lips tasted of her and George. Their scent was in the pores of his skin, their juices dried on his face. He kissed her back. She liked the way he kissed.

Under the covers, her hand searched out, located the fly of his pajama bottom, and unbuttoned its three buttons, reached in and took hold of his penis. It was she noted damp and very soft. She took it in her hand glad it was small. Soft it ranged in length from 1 to 4 inches. Hard it never got beyond 4 inches. 

She bore into his eyes, "C, are you ready to hear about my evening?"

He showed no hesitation, "Yes, mistress. I want to hear about it very much."

She kept her grip of his manhood neutral, "C, I want to tell you about my evening, but first I want to ask you a question. Do you know what serendipity is?"

He paused but a moment before answerng, "It's a lucky discovery, but it's unintentional."

"That's right C. I went to Mass tonight looking for something and discovered something totally else. I know you've noticed my funk lately. I went to church tonight asking why hoping He would give me an answer, but what I discovered was something totally different."

She continued her train of thought, "I discovered another man. I wasn't looking for one as you know I'm totally smitten with Jim, but he's been so distant lately and I don't know why. I was hoping God would tell me, but I instead met George."

Her C inhaled deeply learning her new lover's name. She noticed his soft penis seemed a little thicker. 

She knew he was looking at her eyes. He really liked her eyes. She had been told she had Lynda Carter eyes. She liked how she was feeling, confident and trusting, "He visited our church today. He is raising money for schools in Kenya. He and I made eye contact, smiled, I looked away, looked back, and he was still looking. I helped him with Mass. After church ended, I decided to tell him goodbye. As we shook hands I asked if he was eating fish for dinner. His homily had been about fish. He laughed and said actually he was. He then asked what I was doing for dinner and if I knew any restaurants where they had good fish. I told him I had no plans for dinner and I did know a very good restaurant. He has such a cute accent. He asked me to join him for dinner. I said I would love to, but only if he allowed me to pay. He wanted to go dutch as he didn't think it fair I pay. I smiled and told him you were the one who was going to pay. I showed him the rings on my hand."

He laughed and said, "Very well, miss."

C's focus was total, lapping up every word she said.

She paused before continuing thinking how nice it was she had a husband she could totally confide in, a partner who appreciated the details, "Jean. And you are? George he said. Father Buzieka, but I prefer George. Then dinner is on your husband. He looked at my hand before taking it into his. And where is your husband Jean? At home George."

"He grinned C like the Cheshire cat. I smiled back thinking he had beautiful teeth wondering what it would feel like to kiss a man with such thick lips. His skin reminds me of nutmeg. His eyes are deep brown at times soft but also piercing making me squirm. I wondered if he disapproved I was going with him, but if he did he said nothing."

"George, do you want to follow me or should we go in separate cars?"

"Jean, I don't have a car. Someone gave me a ride from the hotel. Let me tell them I have other plans and a ride."

She said, "He excused himself and walked to one of the deacons. I couldn't hear what he said but noticed the deacon kept looking at me. I'm sure he was thinking the worst or wishing it was him. I stared back until he looked away. George came back. He said everything was fine and we would go in my car. We walked outside. You know how I like other men to be in charge. I asked him if he wanted to drive. He told me that would be lovely. I handed him the keys."

She looked at C. His eyes were glassy now. She thought he is in his own world now, proud to be the one who transported him to that submissive space he longed for. She could ask him to do anything right now and he would readily agree. She had an idea but decided to hold off until after she finished telling him about her night.

She was speaking softly, "We got in the car. He started it and I gave him directions. On the drive there he asked about, wondering why you stayed at home. I told him you didn't go to church. He went tsk tsk and told me I should make you. I liked listening to him speak; his accent was soothing. At the restaurant I really became aware of the looks people gave us C. We were an interracial couple, a very dark skinned black man, but not just a black man, but one from Africa, and a white woman. I don't know why, but found it a thrill, especially when I offered him my hand. He took it and led the way. I wanted them to see my rings to think he was my husband."

"Or for them to think I was a slut stepping out on my husband with a black man." His penis, all four inches of it, was rock hard.Jean smiled at how easy this was.

She continued, "We had a nice dinner but it was less of a date and more like friends getting to know each other. He is funny C, especially with his stories. When we finished eating the waiter handed him the bill. I handed him your credit card and told him to sign your name. He thought that was funny, but he did it. I asked him if he was ready to go to his room or did he have someplace else he needed to go. I really liked being his arm candy; it was so different how people saw us. If I was with Jim we wouldn't get a glance, but with George you could see the wheels turning."

She ran the pad of her thumb under C's shaft causing him to squirm. He was a fish on a hook flopping around. She asked, "Are you aroused by this?"

He muttered, "Huh huh." 

"Good, C. I want you to be. Should I continue or have you heard enough?"

He sounded desperate, "Please go on. Don't stop."

She teased, "Are you sure?"

He sounded like a kid in the middle of his favorite show being told to go to bed, "I'm sure. I won't fall asleep."

She smiled, "Okay. I'll continue. He still had the car keys so he drove us to his hotel. I thought my evening would end there and we would go our separate ways. He turned off the car and asked me to come with him to his room. I feigned ignorance and asked him what were we going to do. I ended my question with Father. He didn't blink, but ran his tongue across his upper lip. He told me to please call him George."

Jean guided her C's hand between her legs, "Feel how wet I am C. Just telling you about it has me dripping. I repeated my question ending it this time with George. I had already made up my mind. I was going to his room, but I wanted him to be direct. He didn't disappoint me."

"George took off his glasses, fished a lens cleaner out of his pocket, and began to clean the lenses. He looked at me with those strong brown eyes. I felt he was seeing into my soul. He said, 'Jean, I asked you because I sense there is a void in your life. Your husband cannot fill it or you would be home with him. Instead you are here. When we get to my room we will pray and then we will pleasure each other. Do you understand?"

"C, his words made my nipples go from soft to hard. The dampness I felt between my legs turned to a swamp. I answered, 'Yes, Father. I understand.' He put his glasses on, smiled, and said, 'Good. Now get out of the car.' We 

got out. He linked arms with me and we entered the lobby drawing stares from guests and staff. A white woman and a black man. How I felt is hard to describe but knowing you were being outed in such a public way made my clitoris throb. Everyone knew we were going to his room to fuck and one glance at my hand and they knew I was married, either to him or better yet to someone else"

"He unlocked the door and ushered me into his room. He closed the door and turned me around to face him. 'Undress me Jean.' I started to look at what I was doing but he told me to keep my eyes on his. I unbuttoned his shirt, then took it off. I felt between us and found his belt buckle. I pushed the belt back through the loop, pulled it and loosened it. I tugged it off of him. Then I unbuttoned his pants, lowered the zipper, and let them fall to the floor. I pulled his underwear down and felt his cock bounce against my hand. He reminded me to keep looking at him. We hadn't even kissed, just stared at each other."

"His cock had been pointing down but now poked straight out its head brushing against my pants, leaving a trail of precum. He said it was his turn now. In a minute he had me undressed, telling me the next time we met I needed to be wearing a dress. I answered, 'Yes, Father. I will.'

"His cock was now poking at my navel. It felt hot against my skin and he was leaking lots of precum. He said it was now time for us to step away and look at one another. It was very arousing and intimidating. He has beautiful skin and a nice body, but it was his cock I felt drawn to. I hoped he liked my body as much as I liked his. His cock is beautiful C. Not just big, but its color was a dark black, darker than him. He said he liked my body and he took his hands, placed them on my nipples and twisted them. I groaned surprised I didn't orgasm right then."

"He told me my response was good. He then took a hand, put it between my legs and plunged it in me while rubbing my clitoris with his thumb. I moaned, 'Oh, Father that feels good.' He continued what he was doing. I could feel my juices dripping knowing they were soaking his hand and dampening the carpet underneath us."

"He took me close to the edge staring at me making no move to kiss me then stopped. He announced, 'Now we will pray.' He took my hands in his and started speaking Swahili. When he was done he told me asked God to make our union a joyful one, thanked him for letting him be the medium to show God's love of Jean, and promised to use his manhood and seed as God intended.' He finished and told me to pull back the bedspread and lay down. I did and watched him, my eyes drawn to his cock, anticipating what was going to happen and how good it would feel."

"He climbed on the bed and got on top of me. He told me he was now going to love me and I was going to love him. He put his lips against mine telling me this was how proper Kenyans, with their mouths closed. I wanted to open my mouth and thrust my tongue into his but I didn't. I felt him line up his cock against my vagina, press the head against it, and slowly began to push in. My God he was big, bigger than anyone I know. It was so sensual C. He just kept pushing in until he was all the way in."

"I wondered if that was it. Was he now going to lay there and fill me? Was he going to start praying? He didn't, but instead started pulling out and plunging back in short strokes then long, the short. It was the most amazing fuck I've ever had. I have no idea how many times I orgasmed but it was alot. I know I sounded crazy but he took me to a new level. He was like a machine pistoning in and out, knowing exactly what I needed. I was crying from the pleasure repeating oh God again and again, my legs hurt. I felt we were joined forever. When he started to orgasm he pounded me hard and mumbled he said another prayer in Swahili asking God to make his aim true."

She gripped C's penis; it was involuntarily contracting. "C, you've always been a big cummer, but George has you beat. I could feel his cum each time he ejaculated. He continued thrusting until he went soft. He pulled out and my vagina farted causing him to chuckle. He just looked at me, smiled, and asked, 'Did I bring you sufficient joy Jean?' I answered, 'Father, I think you gave me a peek at heaven."

She looked at C and decided he could wait to hear about round two later. All this talk had left her aroused, but she also felt C had been so good he deserved a treat.



Chance Encounter Ch. 03



"Hurry, Paul! Let's do it right away," she gasped. Her lips were inches from his.

Paul didn't push her away, but didn't kiss her, either. 

"Marge, I thought about this on the drive over and ..."

"Paul, I knew you would 'think it over'. I know you too well to think that you wouldn't," she told him. "Please don't call it off. My mind's made up. I would never think of doing this with anyone but you. I know what I'm doing."

Paul felt Marge's body pressing against him. He felt her breath. She felt good and Paul needed human touch. He put his finger under Marge's chin and lifted gently. He kissed her and she kissed back. They sent each other a mixture of affection and desire through their parted lips. They held the kiss for at least a minute, and then broke to take a breath. The engaged all over again. This time tongues caressed lips and danced together, and they allowed the pleasure of being caressed to fill them. 

Marge took Paul by the hand and led him up the stairs. They entered Paul's bedroom. Marge had been there five years before when she sorted through Sally's things for Paul. Nothing had changed.

"Give me a few minutes to get ready," she said. She kissed him lightly and turned to claim the master bathroom. Paul slipped in ahead of her. He grabbed his robe and toothbrush and disappeared to the guest room bath down the hall.

"Help yourself to whatever you find in there." Paul called out as he exited. 

It was early in the evening. It was still dusk in the summer months. It was hot outside but the inside of the house was just right. Paul re-entered the bedroom, hoping that Marge was nearly finished with her ablutions. The lamps were turned off; the shades drawn. In the half-light he saw her sitting in the bed waiting for him. The sheet was pulled over her beasts, leaving only her bare shoulders to remind him of her nudity waiting for him underneath.

"Let me see you, Marge." He grasped the sheet and pulled it gently downward, but she stopped him.

"No, I'm a little shy; you first," she said in a subdued tone.

Paul untied the belt of his robe. He threw it open and stripped it off. He faced her, his naked body displayed. Though in his fifties, Paul had retained much of his athlete's physique. Only a little bit of thickening betrayed his age. His penis had erected, pointing straight at Marge. The sight of his muscular body, which would provide the power of his thrusting, was impressive.

Marge gasped slightly as Paul revealed himself, and he heard her. It made him stiffen harder.

"Now, your turn," he said.

He tugged the sheet from her fingertips and drew it off her body. As the sheet peeled from her body, Marge slid lower to a lying position, as if chasing it. Her hands were folded together just beneath her breasts. Her head was turned to look at Paul. One leg lay flat on the bed. The one closest to Paul was bent so that her raised knee hid her center.

Paul stood alongside the bed, viewing her. He saw her start to breathe faster, and her eyes widen as she inspected him. Her tongue parted her lips and licked them. In the shadows of the dusky light he saw a woman's figure, not a girl's. It was full, but not flabby. It was just a little filled in a few places. Her breasts were ample and the nipples erected. Paul made a mental note to give them a good sucking a little later. 

Marge turned on her side. It caused her mound and thatch of dark hair to be displayed. She raised her top leg, which had the effect of opening more to view. Marge stretched out her arms toward him.

"Please, Paul. Come to me. Don't make me wait any longer." Marge's voice had grown husky and filled with desire.

Paul climbed onto the bed. She embraced him and they kissed long and slow. Paul thought to ease himself down alongside her to make his way delicately into her neglected ardor. Instead, with a sudden inspiration, he gently pushed her over onto her back and straddled her. He placed his hands aside her shoulders. His move had inspired a look of eagerness on her face. He leaned down and kissed her. While the kiss was tender, it was probing. Paul could feel his hard penis and the soft skin of his scrotum pressing and rubbing against Marge's belly and triangle of hair. He knew that she would have had to feel it too. She showed him that she did by the groans she issued into his mouth as they continued the passionate kiss.

Paul raised himself up and slid down her body a little bit. He treated his lips to the pleasure of her nipples. He brought a hand up to firmly hold the breast, which isolated the tawny bud. He alternately sucked it and danced his tongue over it. Marge pressed her chest up at him to deepen the contact. Paul knew that she liked it, and did the same on the other side. 

There was more to be done. Paul slid lower. Without hesitation, he plunged his face into her center. He licked her labia and searched out her clitoris. He felt Marge's hands on top of his head, pressing him down harder on her. She was openly moaning, spreading her legs wider, thrusting her pelvis up at him. She abandoned all reserve. Paul heard her give a high pitched sigh and felt a small contracting spasm. Marge held her breath as the little orgasm came over her. Paul pressed his tongue to her clitoris and held it there until she resumed breathing. It wasn't a huge climax. Paul knew that it was the first time that a man had given her one since her late husband.

Paul lifted up and looked at her. He waited for a cue to tell him that she was ready to resume. He saw that her eyes were closed and hands were stretched over her breasts. It was a beautiful sight to him, because he knew that he quenched a thirst that had parched and emptied her out. It was his lesson learned during his times with Glenda after his own years of doing without. He would have never understood Marge's need without the experience.

She flexed her hips to press her mound back up at him. Her recovery was complete. He would give her a chance to satisfy him. He wanted her to have it because that feeling is the best that sex has to offer. He ascended back up to be face to face with her again. As they joined in a kiss, she showed him her approval by mewing into him. It excited him and spurred him to more boldness. He lifted off her once again and straddled her chest, so that his manhood was inches from her face.

Marge accepted the invitation and took him into her mouth. Paul pressed gently forward to send his penis into her throat. Marge sucked and squeezed him with every soft tissue in her mouth and throat. Paul withdrew before he came. To end it then would have been too soon.

Paul slid back down. They were again face to face—pelvis to pelvis. It occurred to him to re-excite her vulva. He could have tickled her with his fingers, but chose not to. His crown would do nicely. He touched her with it, just at the gate of her womanhood. He raised himself up and down to find the right place. Soon he did, judging by her reaction. He let himself linger there. It was soft, wet and warm. The bumping of his penis against Marge's clitoris brought her great pleasure. Soon her rhythmic rocking changed to a ragged fury, trying to catch his throbbing and bobbing head within her labia, desperate to maintain the contact.

She issued primal grunts and moans. Paul knew that he had brought her to that special place again. He thrust into her, all the way. He pushed through the long-neglected flesh that was happy to receive him. He felt Marge's legs wrapped around him; before long, he felt her climax approaching. They thrust to each other strongly, with a purpose. Paul released his own feelings, letting in the pleasure that he knew was there. He felt his own release. It erupted all at once as he spurted into her.

As Marge felt Paul's ejaculation, she yelled out.

"Carl! Carl!" 

She climaxed with great force. Paul was happy. The physical release had brought with it an emotion held deep inside her that needed to escape. They had no words at the moment. As they lay together Paul appreciated what had taken place. Tomorrow they could relax and talk over breakfast. Paul would tell her to take a sick day from work.

Early the next morning, Paul made the coffee and toast. Marge scrambled the eggs. They moved about the kitchen like nothing had happened. As they finished their eggs, Marge was the first to speak.

"It was lovely, Paul. I don't know if we'll ever have a chance to do it again. I'm glad that we did it this time."

Paul just smiled and nodded.

"I'm sorry that I yelled out Carl's name. Did it upset you?" she went on.

"No," said Paul, "I'm glad that you did. You needed to. You know now about Carl what I do about Sally; that they will never leave us. Any lovers we may take are not in place of them; they're something new. One thing that I found in Glenda is that she understood it so well." 

"Were you thinking of Glenda, or maybe Sally?" she asked him.

"No," Paul replied. "I was thinking of you, and how you were thinking of Carl at that moment and how you needed to be thinking of him, and that I was glad that I was there to help you do it." 

Marge sat silently, taking in what Paul had told her. Then she spoke again.

"Don't worry, Paul. Things in the office will be the same. It will be our secret. Nothing is changed." She assured him.

"I was worried about it before we started, but afterwards I knew that it would be alright. Things are not the same, though. We've lost nothing, but there's something new. We'll handle it," he replied.

Paul felt that Marge still had something on her mind. 

"If you need me to prove it, I can give some extra typing," he joked.

"That's not what is bothering me, Paul." She rolled her eyes at the corny joke.

"What is it, then?" he asked. He leaned closer to her.

"I need to know something, Paul, and you must tell me the truth. I would choose a cruel truth over a kind lie. Did I ... did I please you?"

"Yes, Marge." Paul answered gently. "Yes, I couldn't have asked for more from any woman."

Marge knew Paul well enough to know that he was sincere. Yet, the last sentence confused her. She decided not to ask, but ponder it later. She had to show him that she felt better—good, actually.

"Well," she said with a little laugh, "I know that I can please an old man like you!"

"I didn't hear any complaints!" Paul retorted.

Marge stood up to clear the dishes. Paul stacked them to be cleaned later. He would clean them himself. The housekeeper would arrive later, but he wasn't ready to share their secret with her.

"Thanks, Paul," She whispered, and kissed him on the cheek. She stepped back from him. "I'll be at my desk right after lunch."

In a minute Marge was in her car exiting Paul's driveway and Paul was cleaning the dishes.

************** 

Paul was on an airliner en route to his conference with Larry Wilton. This night he had an appointment with Audrey Wright to listen to what she had to say. She was eager to speak to him, according to Jim Spencer who had arranged the secret meeting. She would meet him quietly at his hotel.

Paul was thinking about all that surrounded the purpose of his trip: Grafton, Morehead, Hopkins, the delayed construction in Peoria. Faced with a multi-year lawsuit, the City Council of Peoria had already abandoned ship and they were promptly rewarded by Hopkins who lifted them from the list of defendants. Jim Spencer had kept them tentatively tied to the project by having them freeze the enabling zoning, to keep the property open 'pending the resolution of issues'.

The pilot's voice came over the speaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right you will be able to see the city of Chicago just below us and to the west."

Paul didn't look. Maybe if he ignored the city passing below him he could escape having Glenda seep into his thoughts. Even their times together brought pain when he recalled them. The memories were so beautiful. They should be making more of them right now. The deprivation ate at him. He admitted to himself that she had found a place in him.

He wondered how Glenda was. He wished that she had been more courageous in standing up to Judson. He didn't blame her. Only she could know her limitations. He and Glenda had, after all, been an item for a scant few weeks. Glenda was protecting a position built over a twenty-four year career. Still, the injustice gnawed him. As time passed, he suspected more and more that they would never reunite. He had tried to contact her. He called her home, but only got the voicemail. He left messages that were never returned. He found out her address and sent letters in the mail. There had never been a response. Still, Paul could not forget her. 

Grafton was at fault in this, and so many things. If he had played it straight from the beginning everything would be right. The plant would be operating. The workers in Peoria would have their jobs. He and Glenda would be together. He wondered if he and Glenda would have revealed their secret by now. There were so many places to go together, experiences to share. People like Grafton, Paul thought, would ruin this world if they weren't stopped. 

Paul found out that Grafton's job at Montgomery was 'Director of Governmental Relations'. A fox and henhouse analogy came to mind. Grafton would have Montgomery paying off regulators right and left. Dunn Chemicals would be out in the cold if they didn't follow suit, and that was something that Paul refused to do. He was sure that putting Grafton out of business was the right thing. It burned him when he thought of Grafton pocketing his state pension and his salary from Montgomery, too. He wouldn't be easy to trap. Paul would have to be sharp to pull it off.

Paul had not finished his mental travels when the plane landed. Soon he was at his hotel, waiting for Audrey Wright. If she could fill him in, or even give him a hint of what to look for, he could start putting the pieces together. At least, it would help pressure Wilton if he could appear to have something besides bad-appearing coincidences.

Paul's hotel room phone rang phone rang.

"Hello, Mr. Crane," said a female voice on the phone. "This is Audrey Wright speaking. I'm in the lobby of your hotel. May I come up to room right away?"

A few minutes later Paul opened the door for her. She rushed in. 

"I don't want to be seen," she whispered. "This is a government town. You never know who you'll run into. I could lose my job over what I'm doing."

"So much for formal introductions, Miss Wright. You know that I'm Paul Crane. I'm glad to meet you." 

Audrey smiled sheepishly and they shook hands. 

"If anyone asks you," Paul said, "tell them that you had a job interview. I'll back you up. They won't like it, but they can't fire you for it."

Paul motioned for her to sit down. There was an easy chair in the room. Paul went for the wooden chair at the desk. 

"No! I'll take that one," she said as she hurried over to the harder chair. "Well, you are a lot older than I am." 

Paul offered her a drink from the mini-bar, and she asked for Club Soda.

"It'll be Geritol for me!" Paul joked. 

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "I'm just nervous."

"Well, stop being nervous. This is important. We'll need to get down to business," Paul said sternly.

Audrey stopped blushing and nodded.

Paul noticed how good looking the young woman was, but in the mood of the moment, it seemed irrelevant. In fact, Audrey was beautiful. She was tall with golden blonde hair. She was dressed in business attire, but her slender outline suggested a body that had been honed by swimming or running. Her face was one of those scrubbed, fair, Nordic ones, with bright skin, blue eyes and a pleasant visage. Her wavy hair, parted in the middle, framed it, and then descended past her shoulders. If she had braided her locks and worn an iron helmet, she would have passed for a Viking maiden. 

"Miss Wright ... do you mind if I call you Audrey ... did Jim Spencer told you why we are interested in speaking with you?"

"Audrey is fine, Mr. Crane. Yes, I know why we're here. That's probably why I was so nervous a few minutes ago."

"I would like you tell me your story of the Peoria Project from the start." Paul said. "Don't leave anything out or add anything that doesn't belong."

Audrey took a gulp of her soda and began.

"About two years ago I had been with the Agency for almost a year. The Peoria project was the first big project that I was assigned to. Ed Grafton and Craig Morehead were on it from the start. They didn't care very much for what I had to say. They seemed to be preoccupied in the drawings and blueprints. They would spend a lot of time pouring over them. My specialty is Environmental Science. I really couldn't read the drawings very well, at least at first. Later, I got better."

"For a while, I thought that I really didn't know what was going on. The engineers from your company, and Harry Carmichael's would submit drawings to us. There would be a discussion. Ed would take the drawings away with him and write a report. Then he would tell us that the review had been extended again. He would tell us something that showed up in the drawings that wasn't right."

"After a while I started to understand things better, I noticed that at the next session of meetings with your company, Ed would talk about some issue that had nothing to do with what he had told Craig and me earlier. I asked him about it. He told me that if he didn't do what he was doing he was sure that the solvents made in the plant would leak into the river. He said he was stalling for time so that he could prove it. I was naïve then. I believed him."

"So," Paul interrupted, "he was getting extensions from Larry Wilton on false pretenses? No matter what we would do, we would never get the permit because Wilton was on the wrong page."

Audrey nodded. "And your people would never even know why," she added.

"There's more, much more." She went on.

"One night I was working late on another project. I was walking through the department. I saw Ed Grafton working in the CAD room. He didn't see me. No one else was around. He had the Dunn prints with him. He got up and went to the cafeteria. He left his work out. I went into the CAD room to see what he was doing."

"The designs had been sent to the Agency through the internet. We had it in our server. I hid among the cubicles outside the CAD room when he came back from eating. He changed the drawings in the server. He scanned the signature on the real copies. He practiced writing the signature. He printed everything, signed it and used a fake seal that he got out of his desk. He put the changed version in the hard copy file and shredded the real ones."

Paul was not shocked by the disclosure, but by the fact that he was not surprised by it. When he was a young man, this sort of corruption wasn't heard of. In the current world it was common. He wondered if it was money or decay of values that had ruined the work he used to enjoy so much.

"Are you aware, Audrey, how serious these charges are?" Paul asked. "Do you know that Grafton could lose his PE license for what he you say he did? Are you willing to send him to jail?"

"I don't want to see anyone go to jail, Mr. Crane," Audrey said, looking him straight in the eye. "But if it has to be, then so be it. I worked hard to become a scientist. I believe in my work. I just want to be able to do it the best that I can. I want to be an honest person. When Grafton retired and was hired by Montgomery I knew what he had done. He lied about his concern for the river. He was just out to get rich. I don't want to be like that. Before Jim Spencer called me, I thought that I would just have to accept it. I could hardly sleep at night."

"Why didn't you go to Larry Wilton?" Paul asked.

"He's a hard person to get to see. There are three bosses that I would have to get through just to get approval to make an appointment with him. I was on loan from another department. My boss's boss has a degree in sociology and works here because his father is a friend of the governor. What chance did I have? If I did get in and couldn't defend myself perfectly, I would be torn to shreds. It's an engineering issue, and I'm not an engineer."




Chance Encounter Ch. 03



"I believe you, Audrey," said Paul, "and if can help me, I'm going to try to do something about it. Where are the bogus drawings?"

"I don't know. On Grafton's last day I saw him looking for them, and he went crazy when he couldn't find them. The lawyers wanted them, too, because of the lawsuit, but they said that they would just print them from the CAD again. They said that the Dunn people would sign them, since we're co-defendants." 

"I'll bet that a squirrel took them and stored them in his hutch like a bunch of acorns," Paul said.

"What? I don't get it!" Audrey looked at him quizzically.

"That squirrel has a name that you know well—Craig Morehead! I would bet a month's salary on it," said Paul.

Audrey put her hands to her face. "I never suspected Craig!" she gasped.

"Audrey, I have a meeting with Larry Wilton tomorrow and this subject is going to come up. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell him everything and your name won't surface— yet, anyway. Try to make yourself scarce tomorrow. Now, I'll tell you how you're going to get Morehead to cough up those bogus drawings."

Paul poured her another soda and they set about making their plans.

********* 

The meeting the next morning started on time. The first thirty minutes were consumed by get acquainted chit-chat over coffee and Danish. In Paul's book, the meeting started thirty minutes late.

"Always delay bringing in the coffee and pastry until the meeting has been going for at least thirty minutes," he said to himself. It was a management axiom that he had learned years ago.

The meeting was held in Larry Wilton's office. Besides Larry Wilton and Paul, were Craig Morehead and two faceless lawyers working for the State of Illinois. Ted Wilson and Jim Spencer were there, too, having caught the early bird that morning. They all sat around an oblong table.

They reviewed the Complaint Document and commented on the various technical points contained in it.

"They've left this so open-ended that they could keep amending and filing for years," one of the state lawyers blurted out. Wilson agreed.

Larry Wilton asked on what grounds they thought that the suit could be settled.

"Wait!" said Paul in a loud, firm voice. "This has to be fought. If we don't it will be the template that they will use against us for all time, in every state in the Union. The permit process in Illinois will lose all credibility. I don't think that they're looking for a compromise. Hopkins has a free ride on the legal fees. He wants to keep milking the cow as long as he can."

"All the more reason to settle!" piped up one of the state lawyers.

"No," said Ted Wilson. "We have to fight, but we have to be smart at the same time. Let Hopkins think that we're running to him with a settlement. He'll have to say that he's willing to negotiate. That will cut him off from reinventing the suit over again. We just have to keep a lid on until we know exactly what we want to 'offer' him. It has to be credible. It will have to be cloaked in technical jargon to throw off the press."

"That's why you make the big money, Ted," Paul said after listening to Ted's analysis.

"The press could turn brutal." offered Wilton. "If they do, I'm not sure how long the Governor's office will stand up to it."

"That's your job!" Paul said in a voice tinged with anger. He regretted it immediately; he knew that he had made a mistake.

"You know a lot about my job, Paul," retorted Wilton. He, obviously, was recalling the tense phone call between them weeks ago over Grafton.

Larry Wilton was a man in his late fifties. He was taller and more slender than most men. He wore a moustache that was salt and pepper-colored, just like the hair on his head. He had the quiet demeanor of a college professor. As he sat at the head of the table one had the impression that he should have had a pipe in his hands, with all of the necessary tools for cleaning it and restuffing it with tobacco. He had, in fact smoked a pipe in the office until the no-smoking bans in state buildings made him dispense with it. 

"I'm sorry, Larry. What I meant was 'who but you could handle it?'"

"I'm not sure that anyone can," he answered. "At least, for very long."

The subject turned to the missing drawings. Morehead suggested they use those stored in the state CAD. Paul could sign off on them. He would have them printed before he left today.

"I would like our own staff to generate any new drawings that we sign. I can have a full set on their way to you this afternoon." Paul said.

He looked around the room. Everyone was nodding in agreement, except Morehead, who was turning red.

"It's just a formality; you know, Company policy." Paul said, looking to soothe Morehead. "Look, why don't you use the drawings in your CAD as working copies to mark up?"

"Yes, yes. That would be fine," said Wilton.

"As a matter of fact, we should get a hard copy in your office right now," Paul said, turning to Wilton.

Wilton turned to Morehead. "Would you do that right now, Craig?"

As the participants filed out, Paul stayed behind. When he and Wilton were alone, he closed the door. 

"We have to talk about Grafton, Larry."

"There's nothing to discuss until I have something more in my hands," Wilton said.

"You and I both know the score with him. You can't let him get away with it!" Paul demanded.

"I don't know anything—just suspicions. It's the same with you," countered Wilton. 

"Well, Larry, you do know that you have a missing set of drawings that were the basis of delaying our permit, and you have an engineer asking me to sign something that no self- respecting engineer would ever sign. What do you think of that?" Paul's anger was rising.

Wilton folded has hands and cast his eyes down at them.

"I don't know what to think," He said meekly.

Paul's anger won out over his patience. The veins in his neck bulged and his face turned red. He thought of Glenda's suffering, of his own personal loss, the risks taken by Audrey Wright, of the plant in Peoria that should now be built and the workers who should have jobs there. Then he considered the indifference of the cowardly man in front of him. 

Paul jumped to his feet and stretched his hands across the table to support his weight. It made Wilton look up. Paul thrust his face into Wilton's so that their noses were only an inch apart.

"I'll tell you what I think, Larry," he yelled at the top of his hoarse voice. "I think that you should grow a pair of balls. Then you won't have to be ashamed of yourself and this foul agency. Do yourself that favor!"

There was a long silence. Paul stood up straight.

"You can't talk to me like that!" said Wilton, in a voice so low that Paul could barely hear it.

"I just did!" said Paul, now a little more restrained.

"Bring me evidence," Wilton mumbled.

"Count on it!" Paul said, and strode out of the office.

Ted Wilson and Jim Spencer were waiting outside Wilton's office.

"They want to take use to lunch," Ted told him.

"Go if you want to. I'm catching a cab to the airport." Paul answered. 

********** 

TO BE CONTINUED 

*

Dear Readers,

Thanks for reading "Chance Encounter". I hope that you enjoyed the story so far. As always, I welcome your comments.

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 04



CHAPTER 4 — Every Worm Must Turn

Paul took a taxi to the airport with Jim Spencer and Ted Wilson. Little was said on the way, except necessary details about flights and arrival times. Nothing was mentioned about the explosion in Wilton's office, or the meeting in general, until their plane lifted from the runway. Paul had gone off like a rocket, and they could see that he was still in descent mode. They decided to let him cool, rather than risk reigniting him. It was a side of Paul rarely seen. The younger man, Spencer, had never seen it. 

As the plane started to climb Paul turned to Ted Wilson.

"Ted, were you able to hear what went on inside the office between Wilton and me?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered, "most of it. Don't worry; the only other people that were there were Jim, here, and Wilton's secretary."

"Good!" Paul sighed. "I'm glad that it wasn't in front of anyone else. It was a mistake for me to do lose it, but I couldn't help it."

"We may be able to turn it to our advantage," said Ted. "You may have been mistaken in your tactics, but not in your thinking. Wilton surely knows the truth. If you offer him a chance to save face, he'll grab it."

"That's why you get paid the big money, Ted," he laughed. He turned to Spencer. "Jim, you should have gone to law school instead of engineering. The pay is better, there's less math and you don't need a pocket protector!" 

The three men had a good laugh and they knew things were back to normal.

Paul turned serious again.

"Let's meet at the office before we go home. I'll fill you two in on my meeting with Miss Wright and some other things. I don't want to talk about that on the plane."

The two men nodded their agreement.

"Jim," he said, "as soon you can after we land, get on your cell and call Bert Loehman at the office. Tell him I want him waiting in my office when we get back. We need to meet with him today."

The three men sat without speaking for a minute. It signaled that business details were over for the time being.

"Hey, Paul," Ted called out broaching a new subject, "how's that lady-friend of yours in Chicago?"

Paul let out a big sigh. 

"That's probably part of why I exploded this morning," he said. "It looks like that's all over."

He narrated the sad story of Glenda, Hopkins, Judson and the lawsuit.

"I'm sorry, Paul," Spencer said. "She was very nice. I liked her."

"What a shame!" exclaimed Ted. "There's no way that she had to take that. There are scores of lawyers filing lawsuits over that kind of thing every day. I could have found someone to help her. Did you talk about that with her?"

"I never got the chance," Paul answered. "I got the feeling that they really scared her, or somehow got control over her. I think she saw everything that she worked for going up in smoke and her instincts took over. At any rate, she won't answer my calls or letters. I wish that she would."

"What goes around comes around," Ted mused. "Keep your eyes and ears open. You never know what can happen. That paper that she signed might be her way out. If it's in her personnel file then it would back up her story. It wouldn't be her word against theirs. If your hear anything, keep me posted."

"Whatever happens, we cannot cave on this lawsuit just to make personal troubles go away," Paul declared. "There's a lot at stake!"

Paul had a resolute look on his face. The other men's faces bore expressions of resignation and grim determination. Paul hadn't grown used to the pain. After Audrey Wright left his hotel room the prior night Paul had done a lot of that thinking that he was famous for. It had been a long, sleepless night but the result was a simple one. If innocent people were suffering, and brave people like Audrey were risking all they had, then something good would come of this plant, this lawsuit and all the sacrifices. Neither Hopkins, nor Morehead, nor Grafton, nor Wilton—and especially not Paul Crane would stand in the way.

************ 

At the same time that Paul's plane was landing Larry Wilton called Ed Grafton in his office at Montgomery Chemical. Wilton: Ed, Larry Wilton speaking. I want you to tell me why Paul Crane thinks that you were sitting on his project at Peoria.

Grafton: What's this Larry? No pleasantries? We haven't spoken since I left. Don't you miss me? You must be worried about something.

Wilton: I need to know if I should be worried, Ed.

Grafton: Well, don't be! There's nothing to be worried about.

Wilton: Crane is hinting at irregularities with the drawings. We can't even locate our set. He's going to keep at it until he finds something.

Grafton: I don't know where those drawings are, Larry, and that's the truth!

Wilton: It's going to be a problem until they turn up. It won't be the last time you hear about them.

Grafton: I have nothing more to tell you, Larry. 

They hung up. Wilton pulled on his moustache, which is what he always did when he was nervous about something. On the conference table, in a cardboard tube sat the reprinted drawings from the Agency CAD. He called his secretary into his office.

"Put the Agency seal on this tube and deposit it in the vault. No one is to break that seal but me!" He told her.

************ 

Later that day, in the evening, it was six o'clock and almost everyone in the Agency had left at five. Audrey Wright stayed behind. She often did when she was working on a project. Audrey was dedicated and ambitious. With only her apartment to go home to, it didn't matter if she was late from time to time. Extra hours helped her to stay on top of things.

It was a different kind of project that kept her after hours this time. She was looking for Craig Morehead. She had been to his cubicle in the department. He wasn't there, but the disarray on his desk made her sure that he was still about. Audrey knew where to find him. She made her way to the employee cafeteria in the basement of the building.

The service in the cafeteria was closed. Audrey spotted Craig sitting alone at a table in the far corner. Only the two of them were in the large room. He was eating one of those meals that a person buys from a vending machine and cooks in a microwave oven. Morehead ate a lot of his meals in this fashion. Audrey thought that he spied her as she walked into the large room, but didn't acknowledge her. Still, she felt his eyes on her. 

Craig Morehead was a lonely man. He always insisted that he wasn't divorced, but he lived like he was. The marriage was preserved in legal form so that his 'ex' who was not an 'ex' could continue to share in the lush benefits enjoyed by State employees. It lowered his child support payments. His estranged wife, in fact, shared an apartment with another man. Craig's constant reminder to others of his legal marital state served to make him lonelier than need be. There were many single women of all ages at the Agency and on the larger State Campus wherein the Agency was located, but his referral to his status confused them. At the same time, Craig had the reputation of being an 'ogler'. He was often caught staring from afar, or looking up skirts and down blouses. He never shared his ogling findings with the other men. For him, it was a private hobby.

Morehead didn't have looks that would make women swoon. He was stocky, built like a fire hydrant. He had been an athlete, a wrestler and football lineman, in his younger years, but over time the broad shoulders and muscular limbs had been joined by layers of excess weight and stomach extension. Whenever he stayed late at the office he could be seen in the cafeteria diving into the fattening vending machine entrees. On his way home he would stop at a sports bar for a few rounds. His routine, more times than not, was his reason for staying late. His watering holes were on the way home, but the usual quitting hour was too early for the bars. He would kill time in the office, and see who else was working late. It helped him stay on top of things.

At the age of thirty eight Craig's job title was Senior Project Evaluation Engineer. It was the third of five professional gradations in his area of the Agency. His recently departed mentor, Ed Grafton, had been at the fifth level. Grafton's premature retirement had Morehead disgruntled. It was impossible for him to jump two levels to replace the departed Grafton, so he would soon be reporting to a new section chief. 

Audrey strode to the table where Morehead was sitting. He looked up at her, but said nothing, swallowing a mouthful of lasagna.

"What happened at the 'Peoria' meeting today, Craig?" Audrey asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Not much," he mumbled between mouthfuls.

"Well, I should have been invited," Audrey insisted, "I thought that I was part of the team."

"I paged you—you didn't answer," said Craig.

Audrey knew what he said was true, but she had ignored the page in deference to Paul's advice to her the night before.

"I just sat there like a bump on a log, listening to lawyers strategize—so don't feel bad," Morehead continued in a frustrated tone.

Audrey pulled up a chair and sat leaning forward on her elbows, grabbing Morehead's attention.

"Well, I saw Jim Spencer before the meeting," Audrey declared in a low voice meant to go no further than the table. "He told me that the people at Dunn think that something is going on with the missing drawings. They think that Grafton did something to them to hold their project up, and they're good and burned up. Spencer said that if Crane got his hands on the drawings it would be the final piece of the puzzle, and that heads would roll."

"Good luck to them. Nobody's been able to find the drawings. I don't know where they are," shrugged Morehead, adopting an innocent tone. Audrey noticed that that his face was reddening.

"For your information, Mr. Morehead, Spencer told me that the Dunn people think that YOU have them, and their lawyers are getting ready for something big. I think that they plan to search your house, and everywhere else. I heard that Wilton had our lawyers meeting with them," Audrey pressed on.

"And what makes you think that Jim Spencer knows anything; and why would he be blabbing anything to you?" retorted the skeptical Morehead.

"You men are so easy to loosen up. Spencer is just like every other man." Audrey pointed out. "I hiked up my skirt a little. I gave him a reason to look forward to something more. He would have told me his social security number if I had asked for it. And, I hear that he and Crane are like this," she said, crossing her fingers and thrusting them forward to drive home the point.

"Let them search. They won't find anything. After that, maybe they'll go away," Morehead answered, glibly. "I think that Grafton has them."

"Grafton went crazy when he couldn't find them. I think that you do have them Craiggy-boy. You're holding the bag!" Audrey drove in aggressively. 

"Think what you want!" Morehead retorted.

"Look, Craig, I'm on your side. I don't want to turn you in—or Grafton either. I just want my share. Cut me in on the action. Nobody suspects me. I'll hold the drawings in my apartment. They'll search yours and find nothing. After that, they would never get another warrant!" 

"Oh my!" exclaimed Morehead, suddenly amused. "Little Audrey isn't quite so prim and proper as everyone thought! When did you get a taste for greenbacks, Audrey?"

"Have you seen my car; my hovel of an apartment? Never mind that, anyway!" Audrey snorted sternly. "Is it a deal or not? You know that they'll get you!"

"There's no money," Morehead admitted. "Grafton's got it all. He promised me a taste when Montgomery pulled the plug on Hopkins. I threatened to run to Wilton. He promised, but bugged out of town without paying a dime. I can only cut you in if I get something from him. I lifted the drawings for leverage against Grafton. I'm going to try him one more time, then burn the drawings and pretend that I don't know anything." 

"If you give me the drawings, you won't have to burn them," Audrey said.

"Well, if the drawings were safe, I could try Hopkins, if Grafton doesn't cave; or maybe there's an angle of Hopkins pressuring Grafton if he's scared enough."

"If you burn those drawings, you'll have nothing; if you keep them they'll find you out," reminded Audrey.

"I'll cut you in for ten percent of anything I collect; but it may be nothing," said Morehead. 

"A maybe is better than a nothing; and that will be fifty percent," said Audrey.

Morehead sighed heavily.

"Alright!" he said. "But if you want in for half there's something else."

"What is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"I want some of what you promised Spencer."

Audrey nodded with a smirk. She was wondering when he would get to that part.

"Nothing for nothing, Craiggy-boy!" she replied. 

Audrey leaned close to Morehead. Her lips were an inch from his ear. He could feel her breath against the side of his face.

"Start sending some serious money my way," Audrey cooed, "and we'll have a lot to talk about in that regard, Craig." 

************* 

It was three-thirty when Paul, Jim Spencer and Ted Wilson marched into the office. Marge was at her desk.

"Bert Loehman is waiting for you in your office," Marge called out as the three passed them.

Bert Loehman was an engineer who worked under Paul. His title was Drawing and Print Room Manager. It was a misleading title that had its roots in days gone by. Bert's fiefdom was not really a room. It was his responsibility to log, archive and keep track of all the official company drawings. It was a big job. Drawings and blueprints originated from the corporate engineering staff, and from contractors and suppliers. They included everything from designs for equipment to overall plant layouts, and everything in-between. There were always numerous iterations and the files had to be kept current. There were old drawings and new ones, paper trails to be documented. Some were on paper, others on microfilm and most now in the CAD server. Bert had the responsibility to control who received official Dunn drawings and how they received them.

Bert Loehman was a man pushing sixty-five years old. He had been with the Company for nearly his entire career. When Paul arrived Bert was already a twelve year veteran. Bert taught Paul the ropes in those early days. His current position that he had held for six years, was his last stop before retirement, scheduled for eight months in the future. It had been a good, not spectacular career. 

The three men sat at a conference table in Paul's office. Paul peered at the elder man sitting across the table from him. Bert's expression was half of concern and half confused. It was clear that he knew the meeting was important, but not the reason.

"Bert," Paul began, "this meeting is extremely confidential. Everything has to stay in this room."

Bert nodded that he understood. Spencer and Wilson remained silent.

"We've just been at a meeting at the Illinois Environmental Agency in Springfield," Paul continued. "It was about the Peoria project and the lawsuit that's related to it."

Bert nodded, still appeared confused. 

"There's a problem with the drawings," Paul explained. "The Agency has them on their CAD server and someone, somehow, broke through the encryption."

Dunn would often send drawings to interested parties over the internet. It was faster and cheaper than the traditional mode of sending paper copies by messenger. The CAD files were encrypted so that the official drawings could be viewed, and even printed, but not altered.

"Someone there changed our drawings to suit his own purposes, and then faked the signature and seal on them. One of the people at the Agency, a young woman, clued us in. We have got to find out how that encryption code got broken. Someone must have hacked into it, or got their hands on the key from the software developer. We have drawings on servers all over the world."

Bert leaned forward and buried his face in hands.

"Oh, no!" he murmured. 

"What is it, Bert? We have to know," Paul said.

"I was tricked!" Bert said, still supporting his head in his hands. He refused to look at the others. "I sent them without encryption. I only did it once. It was over a year ago. I never imagined this would happen."

Spencer and Wilson looked at each other in shock. Loehman had a reputation for reliability. 

"Give us the whole story, Bert. I want everything," Paul demanded.

"A man from the Illinois Agency called me during the time that all those Peoria meetings were going on," Bert sighed. "He told me that their server couldn't handle the encrypted files ... gave me a story about how the appropriation to update their software didn't go through. He said that the next meeting for 'Peoria' would be called off if they couldn't see the drawings that day. He asked me to send them in the 'clear'. He called it professional courtesy. I sent them. He called me a week later and said that they had fixed their problem with a software patch. Everything else went encrypted. It's as simple as that."

"Why, Bert? How could you do such a thing?" Paul pleaded.

"I knew how bad the meetings on that project were going. I wanted to help. I didn't want to be responsible for the breakdown," Bert explained. "I thought that I could trust the guy."

"What's 'the guy's' name?" demanded Paul sternly.

"I don't remember now. It happened over a year ago." Bert answered. Tears were welling in his eyes, but he held them back.

"If it was just the one time, how could they have a full set of bogus prints when we were making changes all the time?" asked Wilson.

"They probably just updated their 'clear' copy with the changes they read from our encrypted files as time went on," answered Spencer.

"We've got to know the name, Bert!" Paul insisted.

Bert shook his head apologetically.

"Was it 'Hopkins'?" Paul asked, testing. "What about 'Wright'; 'Wilton'?" 

Bert shook his head each time.

"What about 'Morehead', 'Grafton'?"

"That's it—Grafton!" yelled Bert.

Paul, Jim Spencer and Ted Wilson looked at one another.

"It all fits together," Ted spoke for them all.

Paul turned to Bert.

"This is so humiliating!" the older man mumbled.

"You and I go back a long way, Bert," Paul said. "You broke me in nearly thirty years ago. I would never have expected to be having this conversation with you, of all people."

Bert hung his head.

"I should fire you; I'm supposed to fire you," Paul told him calmly.

"I know it, Paul," Bert answered, his head held low. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Paul looked away, staring out his office window. He didn't look at Spencer or Wilson. It was his decision to make, and he had to do it alone.

He turned back to Loehman.

"I have to do something, Bert. If I let this go, every standard around here would be shattered. I'm not going to fire you, but there will be some punishment."

"You will be on probation, starting now until your retirement. Your salary will be frozen. That means no raise at your review next month, and that will mean a lower ending salary in your retirement calculation."

Paul paused, looking for a reaction from Bert, but he sat stoically.

"There's more!" Paul continued, in a stern voice. "You have to serve a suspension of one month without pay. That means no money. That doesn't mean using vacation or sick days. It means what I said; 'no money'! I can't function with your position vacant for a whole month, so you'll have to serve it out in one week blocks over four months."

Bert nodded agreement.

"There's one more thing." Paul said. "You can't tell anyone the reason. This has to be kept strictly confidential. Only the four of us and Jane Hansen in Personnel will know the details. She'll call you tomorrow to work out the details."




Chance Encounter Ch. 04



Jean took C's penis between her fingers and squeezed its base. She didn't want him cumming, not until her needs had been met. He groaned equal parts pain and frustration. She knew he wouldn't have lasted much longer; his little penis was twitching uncontrollably, what began as a seep was now a steady flow of precum. His penis she knew was about to blow.

The squeeze pulled him from subspace back to reality. His eyes no longer looked glassy and his focus returned to her.

She said, "I have a treat for you, but first you need to earn it."

He sounded wary, "What do you need me to do?"

She smiled, "Trust me. You'll enjoy it as much as me."

They were already in the middle of the bed. She threw the covers off of them and declared, "All this talk has gotten me horny. I want your mouth on me."

C thought she meant her pussy, but she said, "Not there. On my ass. I want you to worship it with your tongue."

She rolled away from him and onto her stomach, opened her legs and waited to see if he would obey. She didn't have long to wait for a few seconds later he was on his stomach his face between her buttocks, his mouth glued to her anus. 

Several years earlier and by accident she realized she could orgasm from having her butthole tongued. He attempted to work his tongue into her but she was too tight. She directed him to get the bottle of olive oil they used. He lubricated his fingers and while his mouth focused on other parts of her bottom he inserted one then two fingers into her rectum. It felt good, but what felt better was when he replaced his fingers with his mouth. She could feel his tongue entering her and implored him to french kiss her. What they were doing was so nasty. At times she still couldn't believe there was a side of her so perverse as to want her cuck's tongue up her ass. She would never let another man do what her cuck did. It was too intimate, too dirty.

The pressure of the mattress against her clitoris and his tongue brought her to orgasm. She panted, "I need to be filled. Fuck me in the ass cuck."

And fuck her he did. He hadn't been inside her in so long he behaved more like a virgin 18 year old about to get his first piece of tail than the experienced middle aged man he was. His hands were shaking as he dripped the olive oil along the length of his penis. He got on top of her and guided himself into her. It was the second time she was glad he was small; the other was when she sucked him.

He enjoyed penetrating the tight ring and finding himself in the warmth of her rectum. He knew he wouldn't last long and suspected it would be a long time before he was in her again so he tried to make every stroke slow and shallow. His hips however had a mind of their own and he found himself like a dog humping its owner leg, giving it everything he could. Jean encouraged him to thrust hard. He came so hard his balls ached afterwards.

He didn't stop until she expelled him. He was breathing hard.

Jean's head was turned to the side. She didn't look at him. She just told him, "You know what to do next." He did having learned long ago what he deposited he cleaned up.

His face between her cheeks he probed her bottom with his tongue as she squeezed out the mixture of cum and olive oil. Jean came again her arousal fueled not only because it felt so good, but because of its depravity. Her husband she thought would do anything to please her. His wonderful tongue was inside her, his lips had made a vacuum on her rosebud sucking up the mixture of semen and oil. The act was unconditional as was his love. He adored her. His unbridled passion was solely for her. It heightened her pleasure knowing she still captivated him, that he spoiled her after all these years with the same selflessness in their early years together. Their marriage she reminded herself was a match made in heaven. She wanted to scream when she orgasmed but instead pushed her face into the pillow and used it to muffle her groans as she orgasmed.

Jean lay there as C gradually wound down his licking and sucking. He knew she thought how to take her up the mountain and how to bring her back down. He slowed the movement of his mouth moving to less sensitive areas. She told him to stop. She twisted her head to look at him. His face was shiny from the oil and there was a moustache of cum on his upper lip. He looked comical and cute. She saw him again as a 19 year old.

She smiled at him and he smiled back. 

She said, "Cuck, that was more than incredible. It was out of this world."

C answered, "Thanks. I could tell you were enjoying it."

"And C, did you enjoy your treat."

He replied, "Oh God yes. It was great. It made me realize how much I missed being in you, penetrating you."

"I liked you fucking me too. You're the right size for my ass. What I really liked was your mouth. You look so cute right now."

His face was a mixed bag: bashful as he liked complements but didn't handle them well, proud of himself, and adoring. He adored her. 

"You look so kissable right now C, but before I put my lips on yours you need to wash your face and clean my bottom. And C, you have something on your upper lip."

Out of habit he ran his tongue out and licked the strand of cum off his lip. 

"That's better," she said, "Now go get cleaned up and clean me. Then come to bed. I want you to sleep with me tonight."

C jumped off the bed, went to the bathroom, cleaned his face, penis, and fingers, and returned with a warm washcloth and hand towel. Jean opened her legs further as he lovingly wiped up the oil from between her buttocks. C patted her dry and then rained little kisses on her buttocks when he was done.

They both enjoyed this moment as it was a rarity in their lives. They felt so connected but the role between cuck and husband and wife and queen blended into one. Each had no problem playing both roles.

Jean turned over and pulled C towards her. She kissed him; he returned her kiss. His breath and mouth tasted she thought of mint. She thought how George's kisses were so different, his lips rubbing against hers, his lips moving down her neck, it was hot, but it wasn't better. C's kisses were so good.

There was plenty left to tell C, but it was late. They both had to work in the morning. She thanked him for the wonderful evening and even better reception. "It's been so long C, hasn't it?"

He answered, "Yes, it has."

She whispered, "You missed it didn't you? I know I did."

He whispered back, "I have."

She had to ask, "So you want more nights like this?"

No hesitation in his reply, "Yes."

She looked at him, "So do I. I thought I might have forgotten how to treat you, but it came back so easy. Like riding a bike. I didn't know how you'd react. I just went with my gut."

He looked back at her, "Your intuition has always been good."

She smiled, kissed him as a reward for the compliment, "You treat me so good C."

She sensed hesitation in his voice, "Was it good for you Jean? I wanted it to be."

She knew his guilt was at work in his question. He really felt bad being such a poor fuck, but he made up for it in so many other ways. She had never had a problem orgasming with him; it just never happened solely from penetration. She initially manipulated his guilt, using it to her advantage, but as she figured out what made him tick, used it for their mutual enjoyment.

She needed to cheat. She needed the pleasure a big cock brings. He needed the humiliation and abuse. 

She looked at him. She never lied to him and wasn't about to start, "Yes, C. It was better than good. It was wonderful. Even though you're my husband and best friend, I'm thinking about him right now longing for his dhakari wanting him to fill me with his maani. It gives me goosebumps in a good way."

She knew her words pained him, but they also aroused him. She knew if she put her hand on his penis she would sense it stiffening. Years ago, he would have had an erection right away, but now he needed more recovery time. She really hadn't changed, as orgasmic as ever, her sex drive higher than ever.

C didn't have to ask her to translate. He wondered just how big this new man, George, was. He mentally drew a picture of them, her much lighter skin against his very dark, the shaft of his cock very dark, a mixture of his melanin and the blood coursing through it, seeing it enter her bright pink slit, pumping in and out, her face contorted in pleasure, his expression serious until the last few minutes when he pumped faster and deeper, his balls getting tighter, the head of his cock pressed against her cervix, his efforts on one objective, to climax, his cock throbbing as it delivered sprays of cum that painted her cervical cap.

His penis was hard again, twitching with excitement.

She told C, "I hope he calls me and soon."

C understood. The drought was over. The monsoon had arrived late, but it was here. The crops would grow and all would be well. He sensed her attraction to him went beyond the size of his cock. She liked being the center of attention. On his arm they drew stares. She prided herself in being a cuckoldress. She wasn't the only one in their marriage with a fetish. She felt drawn to men of the cloth, especially priests. She believed what she did God didn't just forgive, but sanctioned. He gave her a free pass because she gave herself so willingly and with such passion to his shepherds.

She yawned, but had to ask one thing before drifting off, "C, do you believe in love at first sight?"

He answered, a lump in his throat, "Yes. I suppose so. Why?"

She said, "I think I'm in love with George and we just met." Knowing her frankness hurt, she lifted her nightgown offering C a breast. He lowered his head and took her breast into his mouth. 

She moaned, "That's it C. Suck your cheating wife's tit." She caressed his scalp and drifted off to sleep as he sucked and imagined the two of them being in love. Worrying he might lose her made his penis throb harder and the ache in his heart greater. He stayed latched onto her breast long after the throbbing turned to twitches and his cum shot out in a rapid succession of contractions.



Chance Encounter Ch. 04



"Paul, it's better than I deserve; better than what I expected," said Bert in a subdued voice.

"I'm going to rely on you not to let us down again, Bert. Now, you better go home before I have a chance to change my mind," Paul answered.

Bert walked slowly out of the room.

"You took it pretty easy on him," Ted said to Paul.

"I've fired people for less," Paul said.

"Getting soft?" asked Ted.

"Probably!. He's closing out forty years with the Company, you know. Except for this, his record is as clean as yours or mine."

Ted nodded.

"There's more," Paul said. "We might need him to testify, so we have to keep him on board. If I canned him, there's a big risk that Grafton would find out what we know. It wasn't an easy call, but it was the right way to go." Paul turned to Jim Spencer. "One day, you'll be sitting where I am. Always think things through before letting the ax hit the block. Then, do it or not when you're sure that you're right."

"What you did is against Company Policy. It could be a lot of trouble, and you're on the limb by yourself," Ted told Paul what he already knew.

"So be it!" Paul exclaimed. "I'll set up a sit-down with Adams tomorrow and disclose it. That way, you two will be covered."

George Adams was President of the company and Dunn's boss.

"Now let's talk about my visit with Miss Wright," Paul said.

Paul narrated the story that Audrey told him, and their plan to liberate the set of false drawings.

"You've got a big bluff going," Ted told Paul. "I can't think of any judge issuing a search warrant based on what you have. I hope that Morehead is as stupid as you think!"

"I don't think that he's stupid, but I believe that he's afraid and greedy. Scared and greedy people do stupid things," Paul answered.

"Audrey Wright is taking a big chance," piped up Spencer. Ted nodded. 

"That's why we have to move fast," said Paul. "Grafton is sure to figure it out if he gets downwind of this. If he does, he'll alert Morehead." 

********** 

It was nine o'clock on a Wednesday morning. Paul was sitting in front of George Adams explaining what he had done with Bert Loehman. George was Paul's boss and President of Dunn Chemicals. Paul had broken the rules with the action that he took with Bert, and figured a confession in advance would be wise.

George Adams and Paul Crane grew up in the Company together. Both of them started in engineering. After a few years George went to Sales and Marketing, while Paul remained in Engineering and Production. Paul knew that he would find a friendly ear in George, but he recognized the conflict, too, because George had his eye on the ultimate prize: the position of CEO.

"I want to keep Ted Wilson out of it. I told him that I was going to disclose it, so he wouldn't have to worry about it. Jim Spencer was there, too." Paul took a sip of coffee as he ended his story. 

"Spencer?" George asked.

"He's a senior manager in my department;" Paul answered. "... my 'go-to' guy."

George nodded. 

"It's probably what I would have done, Paul," George said, then leaned back and sighed. "It wasn't long ago that we wouldn't be having this conversation. You would handle your area and I would let you do it. Today is different. Directors are afraid of everything. I'll have to report it to the Ethics Committee because it's a violation of Company Policy and the rules say that I have to. Some of them will say that you should have fired him for what he did; others will say that you're picking on him because of his age. They will all think that you did the right thing, but none of them will say it."

"What do you think they'll do?" asked Paul.

"I don't know for sure. Everyone on the Ethics Committee is an outside director," George explained. "My guess is that they'll force you to walk on your kneecaps and eat crow. They'll give you a slap on the wrist and a warning. It might cost you some stock options. It's hard to say. Of course, they can get more serious."

"I guess that they'll have to do whatever they will do," Paul mused.

"Let me change the subject and talk about this Peoria lawsuit." George said. "There's a time to fight and a time to cut losses."

"Peoria was a good project from the start. From a business standpoint, there's no reason to back off. I hope that the Company hangs in there," said Paul.

"We're on thin ice, in my opinion, Paul. I know that on pure business grounds it makes sense. When the local government backed out, it really hurt. Now we're banking on the Agency in Illinois. They could back out, too. The PR's going to be murder. It always is when the issue is environmental. Hopkins is a celebrity of sorts. Facts will mean nothing. We could lose this suit in a trial. Jury risk is tremendous," countered George. 

"George, the fight is over more than just that Peoria Plant. If we cave in here we will face the same thing every time we try to build a new plant anywhere. I'm betting that the State will hang tough. It's their approval process on the line. And, by the way, the City of Peoria didn't really cave. They never changed the zoning. We could put the deal back together in a jiffy."

"If the State of Illinois gives it up, so do we, Paul," George commanded. 

"There's a side issue of corruption on the part of Hopkins and a guy that was working for the State and Montgomery." Paul went on. "We ..."

"I know about that!" George cut him off. "Be careful here. I abhor it, just like you do, but we're here to sell product, not fight the world's battles."

George had been clear enough. Paul was disappointed. It was a predictable stance by the President of the company. George wondered how much further he could go.

On his way back to his office Paul stopped to see Bert Loehman.

"I came by to see how you're doing, Bert."

Bert gave a non-committal shrug.

"It wasn't pleasant doing it to you last night," Paul said.

"You had no choice," Bert answered.

"No hard feelings, then?" Paul asked.

"I just hope that you don't get in trouble over this," Bert answered.

Paul waived his hand in a 'don't worry about it' signal. 

"Have you spoken with your wife, yet?" Paul probed.

"No," answered Bert. "I thought that I would wait until I spoke to Jane Hansen so that I would have all the details. I only want to have to tell her once."

Paul understood and nodded.

"Look, Bert," Paul leaned closer, "Eat your Wheaties, keep your strength up. I'm going to need you. There's a lot of work in front of us. You're not retired yet!"

"Don't worry, Paul," Bert assured him.

"I'm not worried, Bert. I'm here to tell you not to worry."

********************** 

When Paul arrived at his office the next morning it was past ten o'clock. He had been to a Chamber of Commerce breakfast. Marge stopped him as he strode into his office.

"You had a call from a Miss Wright. She said that she was in her car passing Chicago, and wants to see you this afternoon. I have her cell phone number." 

"Would you see if you can connect me, please?" Paul said.

Paul: "Audrey, it's Paul Crane calling you back.

Audrey: Mr. Crane, I need to see you today. Will you be at your office? I want to deliver a package to you."

Paul was away from his office at three o'clock when Audrey arrived at his office. Marge paged him and Paul hurried back.

"Hello, Audrey, I hadn't expected to hear from you so quickly," Paul reached out his hand as he greeted her. 

"I worked fast, Mr. Crane," Audrey answered. "I was so excited that you were taking me seriously that I just wanted to get moving."

She extended her hand as she answered him. Paul took it gently, as he would any lady's hand. As he did so, he felt softness in the skin and firmness originating from the wrist at the same time. It occurred to Paul that Audrey was a strong young woman who could show either side at will.

"Where are my manners?" said Paul. "Would you like a refreshment?"

"I did drive from Springfield today. I started at six this morning," said Audrey. "A coffee would be nice."

"Nine hours!" exclaimed Paul. "I think that rates at least a cup of coffee."

Paul opened his office door.

"Marge, would you bring in coffee for two, please?" asked Paul.

"I thought that you might order Champagne and oysters!" Marge shot back in a voice blended with teasing and sarcasm. 

"Coffee will do it just fine, Marge," answered Paul, not taking the bait.

Paul stepped back into the office. In the far corner sat a suite of furniture designed for casual meetings and Audrey had found a seat on the sofa. She sat patiently with her legs crossed. As Paul approached her she looked up at him and smiled.

As Paul took his seat in the chair facing her, it occurred to him that he was viewing the most beautiful young woman that he ever been alone in the same room with. Sally had been nice looking in her twenties, but Audrey was special. Paul realized that he had missed a lot of detail in their earlier hotel meeting. In the more relaxed situation, he decided to catch up.

Audrey's clothing was a bit more casual than when he first met her, but dressy enough for a visit to the office after her long drive. She wore a striped cotton shirt-style blouse tucked into a navy skirt that was full at the bottom. It descended to just above her knee. She had on loafers and clear hose. Mostly, she wore a countenance that was bright and cheerful, with lines that appeared when she smiled or laughed and disappeared when she was finished. Audrey was tall— Paul guessed about five-eight—and had an athletic look. She had broad shoulders, but a slender build. The tightly-tucked blouse told Paul that she was smaller than 'busty' but had plenty to fill a man's two hands. 

"What do you have that made you drive nine hours to see me?" Paul asked.

"I got the drawings from Craig." Audrey proclaimed. "They're in the tube over there." She pointed to Paul's desk.

Marge entered with the coffee. She raised her eyebrows when she saw the pair seated at the seldom-used sofa and chair. 

"Ask Jim Spencer and Bert Loehman to come in with the Peoria drawings," said Paul.

As they waited, Paul questioned Audrey further.

"Did you have any trouble getting them?" Paul asked.

"At first he wasn't going for it," Audrey answered. "Then I did what you said and told him that I wanted a cut of the action. When he thought that I was crooked like he was he trusted me more."

Paul nodded.

"It wasn't long before we had a deal. He passed me the drawings in the parking lot yesterday before work." she finished.

"We'll see what changes they made to them when Bert and Jim get here," Paul said.

Audrey said that she wanted to 'freshen-up'. Paul directed her to his private rest room. While she was away, Paul wrote something out longhand on a sheet of paper and took it to Marge.

"Marge, would you type this up, please? Blank paper—not Dunn letterhead. Four copies, please with blank envelopes. Bring them right in when you're finished." 

Jim and Bert came through the door just as Audrey returned. Paul introduced Audrey to Bert. She already knew Jim.

They laid the prints out on the conference table, the good set and the phonies, side by side. There were over thirty pages in the packet, but they knew which had the best chance to contain differences. It was difficult to find them at first, until a pattern emerged.

"Every engineer has his own 'personality' when it comes to drawings. After a while, you can see it come through," Bert explained. "For example, here and here, you can see where he changed the pipe diameters. On this next page he has the reactors mis-sized. There's a wrong-sized heat exchanger there. Once you start to read him, the changes are easy to find."

"We have to find them all!" Paul commanded.

"We have a program that can find differences. We'll scan it and run it through the CAD." said Bert.

"Document every change. Hand-check it! Write a report—both of you sign as PE's when you're satisfied," ordered Paul. "Make no marks at all on this set that Audrey brought us."

Marge brought in what Paul had asked her to type. 

"Audrey, here is something that I want you to sign," Paul said. "It is a statement by you stating that Craig Morehead freely gave you these drawings on yesterday's date for the purpose of safekeeping. It states that you delivered them to us on today's date for the purpose of assisting us to discover fraudulent changes in them, and that you left them in our custody."

"Sounds right to me!" exclaimed a jubilant Audrey.

"Let's not start the party yet!" warned Paul. "Read it carefully; make changes if necessary; don't sign it until you're satisfied. Then sign all four copies. Jim, Bert and I will sign to acknowledge receipt. Marge is a notary. She'll witness them."  

"Audrey," Paul went on, "When you've done that, record your story by voice into the dictating machine. Marge will transcribe it. Then you can sign it, I'll witness it and Marge will notarize it."

"Alright," Audrey said, "but it seems like a lot of paperwork."

"Audrey, this isn't 'fun and games'," Paul countered. "I'm taking no chances."

Paul left the others to their task and went to attend a meeting. When he returned forty-five minutes later Marge was just starting the transcription. He found Audrey waiting in his office, sitting again on the sofa in his office. Paul retook his chair opposite her.

"How did you get away from work, Audrey? Where does the Agency think you are?" asked Paul.

"They think that I'm on vacation." she answered. "Actually, I am. I'm driving up to northern Wisconsin to go camping. I'm thinking that I might go the Nicolet Forest."

"That's pretty remote," Paul said. "You won't find much nightlife!"

"That suits me fine!" she countered. "I have experience in the woods. I'm an ecologist, you remember."

Audrey relaxed back and stretched out her arms across the back of the sofa and crossed a leg over one knee. Her full skirt slid down her thigh, showing a toned limb that was long and as shapely as any Paul had ever seen. 

"It would be perfect if I had a man to go with me!" she added in a wishful tone.

The provocative statement gave Paul a start; he knew that it was meant for him. It was an intriguing concept because his eyes were already glued to the shapely calf attached to the toned thigh. As it pivoted on Audrey's knee it bobbed up and down. Its movement was just enough to reveal the slightest flexing of the muscles in her leg, but not so much to appear contrived. She would cock her slender foot on the upswing, like a crooked finger beckoning one to 'come hither'. It was a playful little bounce that held Paul's attention. His eyes moved involuntarily up and down with it. Up—down, up—down, up—down; it was hypnotic. Paul knew that he was allowing his gaze to linger too long, but the sight was so pleasing—who could blame him?

His imagination delivered the scene to his mind's eye. His hands rested gently on her knee. He traced a slow, raptured ascent upward along the fine line of that thigh. She sighed and uncrossed her legs. She spread them slightly to enable his pleasure-rendering hands to complete their journey. The molded legs kept their delightful promise of perfection. It was a sensual treat just to touch them, and when she sent back signals of her own pleasure, it was more than pleasure. When he reached her hips, he grasped the waistband of her pantyhose. She lifted up, assisting in their removal. Slowly, he peeled them, down her thighs and past her knees. He removed her shoes one at a time. The hose slipped over her feet, and then were gone. His hands retraced their path, this time over smooth skin. It would be another slow march. He cradled her feet, and then the flesh of her calves, a prelude. He coursed over the knees. She issued a tiny gasp of anticipation. His fingertips caressed those beautiful, sweet thighs. She let out subtle moans at the pleasure, to let him know how well he pleased her. It was the softness on the inside of them that pleased most. She spread herself more. He found her. Paul felt the puffy lips through the encasement of the silk panties. She was spilling her moisture onto them. He bathed his fingers in her heat. He pressed in gently. She was captured by pleasure and anticipation. Almost too late, she struggled to blurt out, "Not here—somewhere more private."

They were transported. It was early morning; he was in the chilly water waiting for her. She was standing nude on his dock. She was afraid, not of the coldness of the water, but that she might plunge in too soon, before his eyes could drink in all of her. It was a perfect view. Her white skin, with the healthy pink glow, blazoned out against the pines in the background. There was her sweet face, shining with eagerness, framed by her gold mane. His eyes descended lower. Her broad, sculpted shoulders were next. There were strong, supple arms, gently defined, on either side. They hung at her sides, not drawn up in front of her in futile modesty. Her firm breasts rested effortlessly on her chest, shaped naturally and firm; the pink nipples pierced the dawn's light. Paul viewed her slender torso, tiny navel in the middle, atop the slender, toned limbs, joined at spare hips. In the middle was her juncture marked by fine blonde hair, where they had joined with passion and tasted sweetness the night before. She flew low over the surface, like the loons who shared the lake with them. She met him in the refreshing water. Before long, they would join anew.

"I said that I wished that I had someone to go to the forest with," she called louder.

Paul shook himself from his reverie and saw her looking at him with a Mona Lisa smile, as though she had read his thoughts. He felt a little embarrassed. He wiped a bead of perspiration from his hairline.

"Do you like to go into the woods, Mr. Crane?"

"Actually, I have a cabin on the peninsula," Paul said. "It's just as wild, but half the drive."

"That would do nicely," she cooed, waiting for him to finish the invitation.

There followed a silence that filled the room. They looked at one another for long seconds. Paul struggled with the choice. At long last, Audrey broke the silence.

"I'm famished and I have no one to dine with tonight," she declared, setting her sights a little lower.

"Where are my manners?" Paul exclaimed. He strode to the office door and opened it.

"Marge, I was hoping that when you're done with the transcript, you could dust off your expense account and take Miss Wright somewhere nice for dinner. Don't be too late, though. She has a long drive tomorrow." 

Audrey looked at Paul in confused amazement. Paul instructed her to visit him in the office again on her way back from Wisconsin.

As Audrey left, Paul felt remorse at his self-denial. It had to be. If he and Audrey had been seen together it would have destroyed the credibility of any testimony she would make. Paul knew that it was the right decision—but she certainly was beautiful.

********** 

Later that evening, while Marge and Audrey were trying out the new restaurant in town, and Paul was watching the Tigers play the Yankees on television, Bert Loehman was telling his sad story to his wife.

"Agnes, it's the dumbest thing I've ever done. I'm lucky not get fired," Bert concluded the revelation.

Agnes and Bert Loehman had been married for thirty-eight years. They met when Bert was a junior engineer at Dunn, and Agnes was a clerk in a local department store. Bert had moved to the area to join Dunn when he was twenty-five. Agnes was a native. While Bert was a Company man, Agnes always retained an arms-length skepticism of the giant company that overwhelmed the small city. Agnes was good at math, especially as applied to Bert's salary matters.

"What do mean 'lucky'?" she cried. "This is going to cost us a lot of money!"




Chance Encounter Ch. 04



Bert hung his head. He knew Agnes would react this way. He would have to listen to it.

"Paul Crane owes his career to you, and this is some thanks. He could have covered it up. A month's pay is almost eight thousand dollars! What about that cut in retirement pay?" she was yelling at him now.

"First of all," Bert yelled back, "Paul Crane doesn't owe me his job. Right now, I owe him mine. And secondly, he doesn't cover things up. That's one reason why he's where he is today. Another thing—he's going to get reamed for letting me off easy. And, finally, for your information, I know what my salary is; I know how to do math, so you don't have to tally it up for me!"

"All I know," she shot back, "is that you can say good-bye to the cross country trip that we were planning when you retire."

"It's done, Agnes! Don't make it worse than it has to be." 

They glared at one another. Bert stomped out of the room. 

Agnes fingered the business card in her pocket. She hadn't told Bert about the visit that afternoon from the odd little man who said he knew Bert. When he arrived at her doorstep it had confused her. She had never heard his name before, yet he had said that he had worked with Bert.

When the argument started over Bert's suspension, it had slipped her mind. She thought of it now, but it occurred to her not to mention it. Bert would never approve, and what he had told her of the events explained all. She read the name on the business card, and the phone number of the hotel that he had scribbled on the back. 

It wasn't a co-worker of Bert's after all, but the man who had tricked him and cost him a month's pay. The name was Ed Grafton, and now Agnes had information to sell. She would get back the lost salary from Grafton. He had offered to buy it when Agnes hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about. Things had changed, and as Bert always said: 'knowledge is power'. 

************ 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Dear Readers,

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I am always pleased to receive your comments.

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 05



Chapter V -- The Worms Keep Turning

Agnes Loehman watched her husband back out of the driveway. They had not uttered a word to one another since the argument the previous evening. She stood motionless in the picture window waiting for him to return for something forgotten, an excuse to see if she wanted to break the ice to enable reconciliation. She was glad that he did not return. She would initiate no such groveling. She was determined to take action.

When Agnes was certain that Bert wouldn't return she sat in a chair next to the telephone. She picked up the receiver and punched in the number that Grafton had scribbled on the back of the business card.

It was a short conversation. Grafton was coming right over; his hotel was a ten minute drive from the Loehman's house.

Agnes heard a car pull into her driveway. She watched as the driver's side door of the rented sedan swung open and a man with a briefcase stepped out. It was the man who called on her the day before.

Ed Grafton was a small man. Agnes thought him to be five-seven or eight as he slowly walked toward the house. He cleared the front fender of the car that had partially hidden him and Agnes saw the black platform shoes that added an inch or two to his height. He was skinny-looking. Although well into his fifties, his hair showed no apparition of gray, and neither did his full beard and moustache. He wore sunglasses with black frames, so at first it gave the illusion that he wore a mask. It was summer; he wore a seersucker blazer and navy slacks.

Grafton swiveled his head to all sides as he approached the door, probably checking for anyone watching him. He started to ring the bell, but Agnes met him first.

"I think that we have some business to discuss, Mrs. Loehman," he said in his customary nasal voice.

Agnes nodded and stood motionless behind the screen door.

"I can't discuss it out here, Mrs. Loehman. Can I come in?" he asked after waiting for her to speak.

Agnes hesitated.

"Maybe I should come back when Bert is home," he said.

Agnes opened the door;.he walked in and sat in the living room, placing his briefcase provocatively on the coffee table.

"Does anyone know that I'm here?" he asked.

Agnes shook her head.

"You said that you would have cash," Agnes challenged.

"I certainly do!" he responded. 

Grafton laid the case flat on the table and flicked the latch. He raised the top side and displayed stacks of wrapped bills arranged neatly in the case. Agnes could see that the bundles were twenties, but had no way to tell how many there were. She knew that it was a lot of money. Agnes relaxed a little. She hoped that in a few minutes a lot of it would be hers.

"What do you have for me?" asked Grafton.

"I know where the missing drawings are located and how they got where they are," she answered.

"That would be worth something to me. Where are they?" said Grafton.

Agnes hesitated.

"It would be worth two thousand," he added, knowing her question in advance.

"I was hoping for more. Bert lost eight in salary because of it. I wanted to make that up," pleaded Agnes.

"Give me more, and I'll give you more, Mrs. Loehman." Grafton toughened his tone.

Agnes hesitated again.

"Final offer—three thousand," Grafton sneered. "Tax free, of course," he added sarcastically.

"The drawings are locked in Paul Crane's office," said Agnes. "A young woman brought them to him. I don't know her name. Bert got in trouble for sending them to you the way he did. He told Crane how it happened."

"That was a big help, Mrs. Loehman."

Grafton counted out three packs of the twenties and handed them to Agnes. The withdrawal had barely made a dent in the contents of the briefcase.

"Want to count it?" he asked.

Agnes counted out the fifty bills in one of the packs; then nodded to say 'ok'.

"Bring me more information and I'll bring you more money," offered Grafton. "I need to know what they're going to do with those drawings before they do it. If you can find that out for me, you'll see that much again, and then some!"

"But how..." she started to ask. 

"You've got my card." said Grafton as he closed his briefcase. "Just make sure that you keep this secret. If I'm found out on this, so will you!"

Grafton left the house without saying goodbye. He scooted to his car, swiveling his head along the way. Agnes watched him pull away. 

"I know how Judas felt," she muttered to herself, clutching the thirty pieces of silver. "But I did it for Bert and me. We need it and deserve it!"

She roamed through the house looking for a hiding place for the money, safe from Bert. She wondered how she would feed it into their bank account without him knowing it. 'Business' was more complex than she realized. She finally put the stacks of bills in a brown paper bag and placed it in the eaves in a corner of the attic.

************** 

Paul marched into the office. He was glad that it was Friday and the end of a less than perfect week. He thought of Audrey, surely cruising north on I-75 by this time. She could have been waiting for him at his cabin on the peninsula right at this moment if he had played his cards differently. What a feast for the eyes she was! Paul found that he liked her, as well, despite the difference in their ages. He patted himself on the back for putting the Company first.

His cabin hadn't been used since the weekend with Glenda. If there was any justice in the world he would be getting his work done early so that he could pick her up at the airport and drive up there for the weekend. Summer was passing by. There was no justice and the cabin went wasting. He mulled over possibly putting it on the market.

Marge brought him in some coffee. 

"Thanks, Marge," he said. "How was your dinner with Miss Wright? Sorry for the short notice." 

"No problem!" Marge answered. "She is a most delightful young lady. Beautiful, too. We went to that new Italian place over on the east side. Very nice; you should try it."

"I'm glad that you had a nice time. Miss Wright is helping us a lot right now," Paul said.

"I know she likes you!" Marge said. "You're all that she talked about. I'm sure that she would have chosen you as her dinner escort for the evening instead of me. Perhaps even more than an escort."

"She made a little hint yesterday," Paul said. "I couldn't risk it. If we were seen by the wrong people it would have blown any credibility she has as a witness."

"She told me that it was more than a little hint," Marge laughed.

Paul chuckled at Marge's disclosure of the 'girl talk' from the night before. It wasn't like Marge to have loose lips. Paul wondered if Audrey had asked Marge to send the message.

"I'm too old, Marge. She would have me in the ICU before I could yell 'Please Stop'!"

After they both laughed, especially Marge who was unused to the risqué humor, she looked at Paul, and said in a quieter tone "I'm not so sure. I think that you still have some gas in your tank. Remember, I have some basis to judge it." 

Marge left and Paul spent the next hour and a half clearing some work from his desk. 

In between the pages of busy work, Paul thought of Audrey relaying messages to him through Marge. He didn't realize it, but his chest puffed out a little. To have a gorgeous young woman like Audrey on the prowl for him was a major lift to his personal morale. 

"She's out of reach, but it's the thought that counts," Paul said out loud to no one in particular.

Paul found his mood brightening. He only had a little work left for the day. He decided to take the afternoon off and go to the cabin for the weekend. When Marge came in at ten to bring in the mail he had a sudden idea. 

"Marge, do you have plans for this weekend?" he asked.

To his surprise, Marge seemed excited, notwithstanding the short notice.

"I'm leaving for the day at noon," he told her. "You leave after lunch. We can't just walk out together. Pack some things and leave your car at my house. While I'm waiting for you I'll buy some sandwiches and drinks to eat on the way. If we can leave by two, we'll be there before seven."

Marge nodded affirmatively. It would work out. When Paul left early Marge usually did, too. It was 'comp time' for all the late nights and Saturdays that she put in.

"Have a nice weekend, Marge." Paul called out for the benefit of any interested party as he left at noon.

"I plan to," Marge answered nonchalantly.

After they got started on the road, Marge was full of questions about the cabin. 

"Is there a boat?" she asked. "I haven't been on a boat in years."

"We'll make sure that you get on one this weekend." answered Paul. "Maybe tonight, if there is enough daylight left when we get there."

"Is the water nice?" she asked.

Paul didn't know what she meant by that question, but he answered 'yes' anyway. In his mind he was luring Marge out on a 'special' early morning swim the next day, but something told him to keep that a surprise. 

Marge asked about the hot water, and the kitchen. Paul assured her that it would be to her liking. There was electricity, too, he told her before she had a chance to ask. He knew what question she was leading up to, but he decided to have fun and let her find a way to broach it.

"Is there a bathroom indoors?" she finally blurted out.

Paul broke into laughter. Marge made a fake punch at his arm as 'punishment' for his fun at her expense.

"No, we have a shovel by the front door and you go off into the woods and dig yourself a hole." Paul said. "Just watch out for the badgers. They can be tough to deal with if they catch you with 'your pants down', so to speak."

Marge was starting to believe him until the joke about the badgers.

"I'll repeat the question!" she pointedly stated, as a lawyer prodding a reluctant witness. "Is there an indoor bathroom?"

"Yes, there are two." Paul surrendered.

"There are a few badgers, but they won't bother us if we stay out of their way. Just remember to keep the trash secure." Paul said.

Marge looked concerned.

"Lighten up, Marge. You worry too much. Let me know as soon as you're having fun."

Paul could see that Marge was an 'indoor girl'. He would wait to see how fast she would loosen up at the cabin. 

For a while they rode along, looking at the landscape they were passing through. First were the small towns, then farms, gradually melting away to the forest.

By the time they were on the bridge over the Strait, Marge had been dozing for a half hour. Paul knew that she hadn't meant to. He didn't mind. He never tired of the scenery, even if just driving through. 

Marge woke up with a start as Paul pulled into the parking space.

"Are we there?" she asked, drowsy and rubbing her eyes.

"Almost; I just stopped in town to pick up some groceries." Paul answered. "There are plenty of dry goods at the cabin already. We just need to pick up the perishables. We'll need enough for tonight, tomorrow, and breakfast and lunch on Sunday."

The grocery store was too small for shopping carts. A basket held by hand would have to do. It was routine for Paul, but he could see that Marge was having a hard time getting used to the old-fashioned store. 

When they arrived at the meat counter Paul asked for a couple of steaks. Marge said nothing, but Paul sensed her dislike at the selection. 

"I should have asked what you had in mind, Marge." Paul said.

"It's alright, Paul. We'll have steak. It's just that I seldom eat it. I'm more into chicken breast."

"Alright", Paul said, "chicken breast it will be. I'll figure out a way to grill it."

"No, no!" Marge responded. "We'll have steak."

Paul started to sigh and held back. He turned to the man behind the counter.

"Let's have one strip steak and enough chicken breast for one person." He told him. 

After the butcher handed them the two packages wrapped in white paper Marge turned to head for the cashier. 

"We need one last thing, Marge." Paul called out as he headed for the beer cooler. 

He stood in front of it, mentally tabulating how much he would need.

"What's your favorite brand?" he asked.

"I don't know, Paul. I seldom drink beer. I'm more the wine type; wine coolers, more specifically if we're going to be out on the water." 

Paul lifted two six-packs from the cooler for himself and three four-packs of wine coolers for Marge.

The cabin was fifteen minutes away. When they arrived he spent a few minutes 'turning the place on' and then showing Marge around, including the bathrooms. She paused for a second, a little uneasy, in the bedroom. Paul wasn't sure if she felt Sally's presence there, or if the reminder that they would soon be having sex embarrassed her. He took her for a walk down to the dock. Paul saw that she was a little nervous walking on it.

"It's too close to dark to get the boat out now." he told her. We will tomorrow for sure."

They returned to the cabin and Marge took over.

"Go sit on the porch with one of your beers. I'm going to get this kitchen cleaned up and get these layers of dust off the furniture." She declared.

"C'mon, Marge!" Paul hugged her with one arm. "You're not here to be a maid. You're supposed to have a nice time. We can take care of all that in the morning."

Paul leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It wasn't passionate, just an affectionate pass to convince her to loosen up. Marge returned the kiss, but wasn't deterred. She handed Paul a beer.

"Shoo! Shoo!" she waved her arms at him. "You go out on the porch and let me get to work."

Paul obediently trudged out alone to the porch and settled into a chair and sipped his beer. He wasn't used to being 'shooed'. He appreciated Marge's good intentions, but would have preferred a drink together watching the sunset, then retreat to the bedroom for some fun. Sally had a dose of the cleaning bug, like Marge, but he had cured her of putting it ahead of more important things. Glenda didn't seem to have the bug at all. In the morning he would have gladly pitched in with the cleaning and dusting. They would have been done in no time. He didn't want to growl at Marge. She was only following her female instincts.

The weather was nice and the dying sun was creating colors among the clouds. Paul worked on his beer and relaxed. He didn't think of work, of Glenda, of Hopkins or Grafton. He concentrated on the waterfowl and the muskrat making its way across the lake. He thought of the corners of the lake where he would take Marge in the morning. He hadn't been as peaceful in weeks. It was good therapy. He would not put the cabin on the market.

It occurred to him that he hadn't heard Marge bustling about inside for a few minutes. He returned to his thoughts. Marge would appear when she was ready.

The sun was nearly finished for the evening when Marge stepped onto the porch. She handed Paul a fresh beer and had a wine cooler and wine glass in her hand.

Marge was wearing a pink negligee that descended to her knees. It was held up by spaghetti straps and had cups of lace that allowed a hint of her breasts to be seen through the fabric. The satin fabric of the gown hugged her hips. At first, she wore a matching peignoir, but discarded it when she noticed the warmth of the evening and the seclusion of the cove where Paul's cabin was. She wore pink slippers on her feet. It was a nice presentation. She took the chair next to his. 

"It was nice of you invite me, Paul," she said. It's beautiful in the wilderness by the lake."

"I'm glad that I asked you, Marge. The idea just came to me this morning. It was one of my better ideas." 

"Don't you wish that it was Audrey here with you?" Marge asked the question, but it seemed more that she was telling him that she knew that she was a substitute.

"No, Marge. I'm glad to be here with you. I don't have first and second choices—only first ones. Audrey has a lot going for her. So do you. Stop selling yourself short." Paul knew that he had sounded cross, but he meant what he had said. He hoped that he hadn't hurt Marge.

They sat silently for a few minutes. Paul knew that he had hurt her. He was sorry. He told himself that he should have found a better way to say what he had on his mind. He had, nonetheless, spoken the truth. 

The sun was spent for the day. The only light emanated from inside the cabin, through the window near where they were sitting. Paul's beer bottle was empty. He stood and took Marge's glass from her and set it on the small table between their two chairs. 

"How could anyone look better than you do right now in that negligee?" he said. "Did you think that I didn't notice?"

"Paul," she cooed, "I know that you're flattering me—but I like it!"

Paul was not flattering her and her response vexed him a little, but he let it pass.

Marge stood and the two embraced. Paul felt affection in Marge's kiss, but not yet the passion that he was hoping for. He tried again, and as he kissed her he trailed his hands firmly from her ribcage down her waist and traced the outline of her hips. He felt her warm a little. He pushed his tongue between her lips and found hers, and guided his strong hands from her hips to the rear of her. Paul coursed his hands over the globes, and then clutched them. He felt Marge press closer to him, so he pulled her closer yet. They renewed their kiss, tongues groping. Paul sensed Marge heating and allowed himself to match her. 

Marge was a glowing ember. The heat she possessed was real and searing, but passive. It needed tinder to burst into flames. Paul searched for a way to provide it. He raised his hands up from Marge's buttocks to the spaghetti straps of her nightie. He quickly pulled them down. It forced Marge to release her embrace around Paul's neck and drop here arms to her sides. Paul pulled down gently again to release her breasts from their lace encasements. The top of the negligee pooled around Marge's hips. She was nude above her navel.

It was a small act. The cove of Paul's cabin was secluded and they stood on the porch within easy reach of the door. Paul was certain, however, that it was the first time Marge had ever displayed herself outside the safety of the inside of her abode. Paul expected her to try to cover up, which he was prepared to prevent. She didn't, though. She took a second to allow the feeling of fresh air to wash over nude skin. Her nipples began to stiffen. A small breeze broke the stillness. Marge embraced Paul anew, this time on fire.

As their tongues danced with their counterparts, Marge crushed her bare breasts into Paul's chest. The stiff nipples embedded themselves into the rough fabric of his canvas shirt. She pressed her vulva against Paul's erection. With each pulse of pleasure she pressed harder. She rose up and down on her toes to in order to feel him in different ways and angles. Paul reached up to cup her breasts. The action created a small space between them. The half-descended negligee worked free and fell on its own, puddling at her feet. 

Paul thought that the unexpected cascade of the nightie might have cooled her, but it did not. She pressed her chest forward to deepen the penetration of her breast into Paul's hand. Paul was enjoying Marge's sudden surrender of reserve. He bent and grasped her with one arm under her knees and the other around her back. As he lifted her, Marge tightened her hold around his neck. Paul sensed that the 'manhandling' excited Marge even more as her eyes widened and she made a little purring noise to show it. 

When Paul strode into the bedroom carrying Marge he saw that she had turned down the bed covers in preparation when she had changed into her negligee. He set her down, just a little roughly, and began stripping off his clothes. As he did he let Marge watch him, and he stared at her nude body. He watched her chest heaving. In a minute he was ready to join her and he climbed onto the bed. He knew that she was already excited, but he had not yet touched her vulva. As she lay flat on her back he lay on his side next to her. His hard penis poked at the side of her thigh. He thrust his hand down to her triangle. Marge clutched his manhood; Paul dipped his head to her closest nipple.




Chance Encounter Ch. 05



Jean and her cuck really cherished the days and even weeks after she returned, her vagina filled with another man's love juices. Lovey dovey describes their interaction, holding hands, taking walks, romantic dinners, flowers and chocolate, favorite meals, sideway smiles at each other, and lots of touching and kissing. Behind closed doors however they were like two tigers in heat.

They didn't so much as talk about her affair, but he imagined it and she relived it as they made love in their unique way, with his mouth pressed to her love box and his penis humping the bed, her leg, or if she felt particularly giving, being massaged by her feet.

Their unconventional lovemaking led to explosive orgasms. She liked listening to him groan as he brought on his climax timing it she noted to occur with hers. She wondered how he maintained such control out of her but so little when they had intercourse. She knew it was all psychological; they had used desensitizing creams, layers of condoms, sleeves, and the end result was always the same. A minute or two of thrusting on an exceptional day and he shot the wad leaving her frustrated and longing even more for traditional lovemaking.

What they did now was so much better. His mouth more than made up for his penis' inadequacy. She didn't resent him. He had powerful climaxes too and he didn't feel compelled to have intercourse or left feeling he let her down. His penis size and premature ejaculation she likened to a physical disability. Her lovers were surrogates used to accomplish what he couldn't. Both saw it as the only fair solution.

She waited to tell him what happened after she and George made love the first time. He asked lots of other questions and she filled in the details describing him physically. She even located a picture of him and showed it to C so he had a face to go with the name. C couldn't believe how confident George was, how blunt he was with Jean, how he took control. 

She couldn't help but smirk a little and did her best to lessen its cut with a smile, "I'm not surprised. He's not boastful or even egotistical, just supremely confident. He's good at reading people. He immediately sensed my attraction to him and my need for a good fuck. And he delivered. I'm telling you C; my experience with him was the best ever. It was delicious. He literally had me begging for his dhakari and his maani."

Her honesty still wounded his ego and in spite of embracing the cuckold lifestyle, a part of him would always long to be the other man, the man with the big cock, the man whose dhakari drove women crazy with lust, the man whose maani women craved to be full of, the kind of man who made women go to the extreme. He wondered how many wives Father George had impregnated, how many cuckold couples were out there raising biracial children, imagining the cover stories they told, adoption, the wrong test tube at the reproductive services lab, a product of a prior relationship.

C knew Jean well. She tended to go overboard, throwing herself not just physically but emotionally at her lovers. While there were times her zeal pained him, the sexual high he got was worth it. Rather than discourage he encouraged her to greater attachment with her lover. Their emotional bonding added to the arousal of their physical coupling. 

His initial reaction to her words was typical Jean. He had seen her eyes brighten with lust over another man, but his gut told him there was something different. George had reignited a flame in Jean. He sensed he was about to again experience being at the edge of the precipice. He remembered how exhilirating and scary it was. 

C and Jean were now middle aged. He wondered if Jean sensed time was running out and this was the last hurrah. Or was she trying to recapture the past. There might be others in the future but they would be on the downslope of life. She was at the top of the mountain. The ascent had been wonderful so good she wished she could climb it again. Would George be the one who made the descent something to be embraced rather than feared? 

Jean purposely left C hanging. She craved his puppy dog adoration. He was always attentive to her needs and deferential to her wishes, but she reminded herself he was still a man. Too much contentment destroyed his motivation lessening his desire to please, his urge to submit. In spite of all their efforts she could not and really did not want to unwire his psychological makeup.

Through trial and error she had perfected her ability to control him. She saw herself as his queen and he her loyal, but humble, servant. Cuckolding served to remind him she was her own woman and theirs was not a relationship of equals. She was his superior. She had complete freedom. His liberty she restricted. Her taking lovers was not just for her own pleasure, but to remind him she was in control. Most people considered vaginal intercourse with one's wife a husband's right, but their marriage wasn't like most people's.

He was her subordinate, not her equal. Permitting him vaginal intercourse went against the social norm of their relationship. Queens didn't mate with servants, only other royalty. 

While waiting for George to contact her she toyed with her C, playing psychological games to keep him on edge and focused on pleasing her. She thought it amusing how quickly after her night with George he dropped whatever he was doing to spend with her. She liked being the center of his universe.

She encouraged him to orgasm when he ate her, but she didn't offer the pleasure of her hands, feet, tits, mouth, or, in spite of how much she enjoyed it, her ass. She banished his penis from her vagina long ago so its use for his penis wasn't an option. 

George still hadn't called and she found herself getting impatient. She thought about his cock and how much pleasure it gave her, his dhakari so big and powerful, filling her in such an exquisite way. She also thought about him and how in a few hours the level of comfort she felt with him. She wanted to spend time with him not only in bed but socially. She liked the company of strong, capable men and he was both. She also felt drawn to his foreignness, but more specifically to his being Kenyan. There was something extra special about being bedded by a black man; his race added an extra spark to his domination. 

She wanted to tell C about their second round of lovemaking, but wanted the timing to be right. She told him to set up a date night for . His eyes widened in surprise and within seconds the front of his slacks tented out. She knew he thought her request was for she and George. She chuckled liking how his mind worked, pleased with his obvious arousal at the idea of George fucking her. 

She forced herself to be stern reminding herself she could never let this be about C's pleasure, but hers, "No, C. Not for George and I, for you and I. Have you forgotten your wife likes to go on dates with her husband?"

He stammered, red in the face, feeling foolish, "No, mistress. I haven't. I just thought..."

She cut him off, "Don't think. Reserve a table at Scordato's. I've taken care of the hotel reservations. I'll lay out my things and you pack them."

He answered, "Yes, mistress." Deep down he was thrilled at the prospect of a date with his wife. He couldn't help but wonder if she was going to grant his penis access to her vagina. It had been so long. 

She smiled at him, "And C, pack my toys. I feel naughty." 

He smiled back eagerly looking forward to their date night.

She lasered him with her next comments, "Don't get your hopes up. You're going to get lucky, but not that lucky. And C, if George calls and wants to go out, I'll cancel with you and George will be my date. Me entiendes?"

C nodded. He understood and expected nothing less. It hurt but in a sexually pleasing way. He couldn't explain it and there were times he couldn't describe it. All he knew is he craved it.

She forbade him from climaxing but insisted he worship her with his mouth. After her orgasm she roughly pushed his head away, clamped her legs together, and told him to go to his room. She really wanted to snuggle with him and even toyed with the idea of granting his penis a quick fuck, but didn't. 

Saturday night didn't come soon enough. C finished all his chores while Jean went shopping with their daughters. She went to the gym while C packed. When she got home she thought about having him help her shower and dress, but didn't as he wasn't helping her get ready for another man, but himself.

She entered the house greeted by C with a glass of ice tea. Her workout had been difficult; she noticed nothing got easier with age. She took the glass, drank deeply of it, noticing he was staring at her. He still saw her as she was when they met, a smoking hot 18 year old. The years had been kind to her. She still attracted the opposite sex, but it was C's stamp of approval she longed for most. She felt herself getting wet and her nipples were hard anticipating the night to come and what he would do to her body and she to his.

C was thinking how sexy she looked, imagining George's lips trailing alon her neck, his mouth on those big breasts, his teeth nipping at Jean's long nipples. She was he thought still a looker. It didn't surprise him at all men were still coming onto her. He considered himself lucky to have met someone he was so compatible with. What they had was good even if it was unconventional.

She took the glass and headed upstairs without so much as glancing back at him. She knew he was looking at her ass. She imagined he wished his head was between its sweaty cheeks tonguing her ass. The thought of it made her clitoris twitch.

Upstairs soaking in the bath C drew for her minutes before she got home, Jean closed her eyes and dreamt of George and the deliciousness of their lovemaking. 

"God," she thought to herself, "he is so good with that cock." It took her a minute to remember the two words he taught her, dhakari and maani. She longed for both, cock and cum.

Out of the tub and drying off in front of the mirror she assessed her body. She concluded it was still good, damn good, considering her four pregnancies. Still she was glad it pleased the one man she loved most, C. The admiration of others was just gravy. In spite of their cocks and masculinity they hadn't been able to break her bond with C. He hadn't aged as well as she but she knew her friends thought he was still a catch. The ones who really knew her not only envied her but were incredulous he put up with her antics. They didn' understand how any man could be so forgiving. Jean wanted to remind them C wasn't a man, but a cuck. She didn't because they really wouldn't understand.

As she dressed she found herself unable to remember the last time she had spent the night out with C, much less go on a date with him. She had been on plenty of dates in their marriage, but surprisingly few with C. He stayed at home while she played. She had a surprise for him and knew he would like what she had in store. 

She looked through her lingerie drawer and picked out items she hadn't worn in years, all gifts from C, all for her to wear with other men. A bra with material cut out providing her support while exposing her nipples. Crotchless panties. A garter belt. Stockings. An ankle bracelet. 

The last items she put on were her engagement and wedding rings and a necklace of pearls, all gifts from C. The pearls had special meaning. They reminded her of when they were dating and how he would fuck himself to orgasm between her breasts, his cum spurting out and running down her neck looking its color the same as the pearls. With a little coaxing he would lick her clean feeling she knew humiliated. She had always been very possessive of him and the weaknesses he revealed to her drew him closer to her.



Chance Encounter Ch. 05



Suddenly, Marge surprised Paul by pushing his face away from her breast. Paul looked at her puzzled for a second. Marge pushed up on his shoulder to signal Paul to roll over to lie on his back. Paul expected Marge to take him into her mouth, but instead, she jumped on top and straddled him. She reached below her to find his penis pointing straight up. She aligned it with her gateway and sank down on it—fast and hard. Her insides were slick and warm. She remained in place, not moving, but pressing her pelvis down onto his. Paul was deep inside her. He seized a breast with each hand. Marge started to move up and down. It was a slow pace at first. After a few strokes she quickened it. After every third or fourth repetition she would stop at the bottom and press down on him as she had before. Paul learned the routine. He released Marge's breasts and grasped her hips where her thighs joined them. As she would press down, he pressed up with his own pelvis and pressed hers down even harder.

Marge didn't make a sound. She closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards. Her lips formed a tight circle, like the letter 'o'. They went on this way for many minutes. The pauses allowed Paul to stave off his orgasm. Marge started to give out loud sighs on each descent. She increased the pace of the stroking. Her sighs became louder. Her movement became less rhythmic. She would shift slightly to get Paul into a place that might have been missed. Finally, on the last descent, her upper body fell forward. Paul felt her muscles convulse around his penis. Her climax was long and intense. When she finished, he took over the pumping until he too felt orgasm wash over him and his semen raced into her body.

They lay gasping. When they had recovered Marge dismounted Paul and lay alongside him. Paul arose from the bed to lock up the cabin for the night and then returned to bed with her. They lay side by side waiting for sleep. Younger couples might have tried for a second round. They did not. It would have been a shame to dilute the quality of the effort they had just completed. Their bodies were satisfied for the night. 

********* 

Paul woke with the sun. In their sleep Marge had turned on her side away from him. Paul recounted the pleasure of the night before. The sheet had drifted off the top half of their bodies. Marge's bare back and buttocks lay exposed. He spent a minute appreciating the view. He wished that she would be less self-conscious. Her comments about Audrey, and Paul's supposed flattery were a little annoying. 

Paul hoped that the more-than-satisfactory sex the night before had 'pounded' Marge's doubts from her. He decided to find out. He reached out and stroked her flank and down the crevice between her cheeks. Marge stirred and rolled over. She moved beside him and kissed him affectionately.

"Good morning!" he said. "How did you sleep?'

"Oh, I slept fine." she answered. "This fresh air out here at the lake is so good for sleeping."

Paul turned on his side and took a breast in his hand. Her nipple was stiffening.

"I don't wonder that you slept like a log after that 'display' last night." he said in a voice that conveyed pleasure and fun.

"Mmm!" she purred, smiling. "I'll let you be the judge!"

"How would you like to uphold a 'cabin tradition'?" he asked, with a hint of mystery.

"Why don't you tell me what it is?" she answered in an expectant voice.

"Well, it's fun!" Paul said, "but it's something that one has to get 'used to'," he added with a touch of humor showing through.

"Ah—that!" Marge answered. "I was wondering when you would get around to it. I was saving it for later, but we could do it now." She clutched his organ and started sliding down his body toward it.

"No, Marge. I didn't mean that," said Paul, laughing. "It might be nice later. I meant a morning swim."

"A morning swim?" she cried. "You mean you want me to put on my suit and go swimming. I thought that we were starting foreplay for ... you know. Paul, sometimes you are hard to figure out!"

"The swim is a form of foreplay, Marge; and you won't need your suit," Paul answered, stifling a laugh.

Marge's eyes widened with incredulity.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "That's out of the question!"

"C'mon, Marge. You'll love it. What about last night?" Paul pleaded.

"That was in the dark," she declared. "And, I got a little carried away."

"Well," Paul countered, "get carried away now."

"Actually, I'm not that good a swimmer," she said. She started stroking his erection and snuggled up to him.

"Paul, couldn't we ... you know ... stay here for a little while?" she purred at him.

"Sure, Marge—no problem," Paul said.

He started caressing her nipple to refresh its stiffness as she stroked him. They leaned closer and kissed. In a short time he mounted her and she responded to him. The sex was good that morning. They both made sure of it. They started to become attuned to the other's body. There were fewer surprises, but their success was never hit-or-miss. Marge, true to her word, took him into her mouth that night after dinner and swallowed every drop. Paul returned the favor while he was waiting to re-inflate.

In between sessions of sex at night and in the morning they filled the time boating around the lake. They relaxed and let the scenery soothe them. Marge even ventured into the lake (with suit), diving in from the boat. She wasn't a great swimmer, but not as bad as she had claimed. They thought about asking the couple on the other side of the point over for drinks on Saturday night, but their cabin was empty that weekend. That left more time for Paul and Marge to perfect their bedroom arts. They did so, satisfying themselves in each other's arms, until they were drained of energy and time.

They started on the five hour drive home after lunch. Marge was soon dozing, just like on the trip up to the cabin. Paul glanced over at her and smiled. He thought how good a companion she was. She was pleasant at all times, intelligent and engaging. She didn't look bad in her swimsuit, either, notwithstanding her protestations. When they made love there was pleasure to be shared by all, and more. 

Paul had doubts that wouldn't stop lingering. It was like nearly finishing a jigsaw puzzle to find that one of the pieces had been lost. He was ninety percent satisfied. He wanted that final ten percent. He wondered if that piece would turn up if he brought Marge to the lake a few more times before winter set in. 

As he drove along I-75, listening to Marge's soft breathing, he realized that it could not happen that way. Further attempts would just get more pieces lost as each of them, set in their ways as they were, would try to accommodate the other. He had invited Marge for a tryout. He hadn't meant to; the realization came after the fact. It made him feel guilty that he had risked hurting a person that meant so much to him. 

Marge had passed most of the tests, especially lovemaking. She failed in beer and steak, in putting housework before pleasure at the wrong times, in over self-deprecation and nude swimming. Paul saw that he had wanted her to replace Glenda, whom he was unsure of ever seeing again. It was impossible and unfair, just as Glenda could never be Marge. It became clear to him. He would have to find a way to handle it.

Marge woke up when they were about ten miles from Paul's house. She rubbed her eyes to erase her drowsiness.

"It was a lovely weekend, Paul. Thank you," she said.

"I enjoyed being with you," he answered. "I would invite you to stay over tonight, but I don't think that I have the energy left," he kidded her.

Marge giggled, enjoying his reference to her newly rekindled lovemaking expertise.

"Why we are so unlike each other, but get along so well in the bedroom?" she asked. 

"Do you remember what you said that morning at breakfast after we made love the first time?" she went on. "I asked you if I had pleased you, and you told me that I could have pleased any man. I didn't understand why you said it back then, but I do now. You were telling me to be open to other men."

Paul glanced over at her expectantly.

"I think that I should, Paul," she said. "Would you mind?"

"No, Marge." Paul answered. "You've given me some times to remember, that's for sure. We're still friends. I don't want that to change."

"It won't change," she assured him. 

"Anyone special in mind?" Paul asked.

"The Choir Director at church has been making some hints," she replied. "He was widowed several years ago and seems ready to go out again."

"The Choir Director!" Paul howled. "Take it easy on him, Marge, or he'll be singing a few octaves higher."

Marge looked at Paul, feigning shock at the raw joke. They were pulling into the driveway. 

"I remember how you 'took it on me' not very long ago," she said softly. She leaned over and kissed him affectionately.

******* 

Late that Saturday afternoon, while Paul and Marge were tying up the boat for the day, little did they know that at the same moment Ed Grafton sat by the phone at his new home in St. Louis. He was waiting for a return call from Arthur Hopkins. He had called him earlier and left a voicemail letting Hopkins know about Paul's possession of the fraudulent drawings. That spelled trouble for them if it wasn't handled. 

Hopkins had been the instigator of the conspiracy. He, and especially Grafton, had profited by it. Morehead had received nothing, and he was the question mark. Although Agnes Loehman had not named her, Grafton knew that it was Audrey Wright who had delivered the drawings to Paul. 

As he sat nursing a glass of whiskey and pouring over his situation, the phone rang. He was sure that it was Arthur Hopkins. When he picked it up, to his surprise, it was Craig Morehead.

Grafton: Hello!

Morehead: Ed, this is Craig Morehead. I'm calling about that money that you promised me!

Grafton: I told you, Craig, that I would send you some money when things cool down. Did you know that Paul Crane asked Larry Wilton for an investigation? Wilton called me a few days ago.

Morehead: Let Crane rant and rave all he wants! Wilton will have nothing without those drawings and I have them in a safe place where he'll never find them. But listen, I have a partner now, so you'll have to give me more money.

Grafton: No way! I promised you ten thousand. Your expenses are your own business. Who is this partner, anyway? How do you know that you can trust him? What could be his value-added?

Morehead: It's not a 'him, it's a 'her'. She's holding the drawings so that they can't be found on me.

Grafton: You're a fool for letting someone else in on this.

Morehead: How about the money?

Grafton: I can only give you two thousand right now. Give me the name of your bank and the account number.

Morehead: Make it five thousand, and here are the bank details.

They hung up. Grafton was going to warn Morehead that Paul had the drawings, but swallowed his tongue before the words came out. It was clear that Audrey had double-crossed him and Morehead had yet to find it out. If he had, Grafton was sure that it would send him running in a panic to Wilton. It would be better to keep this secret between him and Arthur Hopkins.

An hour later, Hopkins called Grafton.

Grafton: Morehead just called me out of the blue demanding money. I don't think that he knows that Crane has the bogus drawings. He thinks that Audrey is holding them for safekeeping.

Hopkins: Can he prove that it was you who faked the drawings?

Grafton: No. No one can.

Hopkins: Then let Morehead take the fall. He's the last one in the Agency to have possession of them—except for Audrey. He'll accuse you, but proving it is something else. You can just accuse him right back!

Grafton: Crane is sure to go to Wilton with this.

Hopkins: If they can't prove their case, they'll never get you out of Missouri. Just make sure that no one can say that they saw you alter the drawings. That's the main point. Pay some money to Morehead. That will keep him quiet for a while.

Grafton: I've got Craig's banking information. I'll deposit it in cash. I'll drive to Springfield on Monday. It's only two hours. I'll use a branch near his apartment. Then he can explain where the money came from. Craig will frame himself. He'll have the money, the drawings and he admitted to Audrey that he was part of it. I should call him and thank him! 

The two men hung up, their plans were made.

************* 

On the following Friday afternoon Paul was working in his office. Marge buzzed him to tell him that Audrey Wright was waiting to see him. Paul told Marge to send her in.

"Private Audrey Wright reporting as ordered!" she declared as she marched in and presented a mock salute.

"Hello, Audrey," Paul said, 'how was your vacation?"

"It was restful and lonely," she answered. "A bit more restful than I would have liked it."

Paul didn't respond, but motioned her to a chair in front of his desk.

"Audrey," he began, "what we've started has got to be finished. It is serious business. I know that you didn't mean it just now with the salute and all, but from now on we can't joke about it—even among ourselves. If we don't take it seriously enough, something will go wrong, and it will all come to nothing. There will be time to joke later when it's all over."

"Sorry," she replied, embarrassed.

"I know." Paul said. "It's alright. The reason why I wanted you to stop here on your way home is to make sure that you still want to go through with this. If you want to back out now you can, and there will be no hard feelings. You can go back to your job at the Agency and go on like nothing happened."

"But something did happen, Mr. Crane, and I can't turn my back on it. I would just be waiting for the next time, and the next. I will go through with it." 

"Don't expect brass bands and speeches of thanks from Wilton or anyone at the Agency," Paul warned. "They will look at you as a snitch and hate you. You will be upsetting their applecart. There is a good chance that you'll be fired for not going through channels. Can you accept that?" 

Audrey nodded.

"Audrey, even if you aren't fired, you should plan on changing jobs. The atmosphere will be poisoned. Don't worry; we'll help you find another job. It may take a while, but it will work out. Anything that we do for you will be off the record. We can't hire you at Dunn because it will look like we're paying you off. We can't give you a stipend while you're between jobs, either. Are you ready for that?"

Audrey nodded again.

"Then we're off to the races!" Paul declared. "Go back to your job on Monday. Act like nothing has happened. I'll get an appointment with Wilton as soon as I can. I'll let you know when it is and you will be with us when we go to see him."

"Call me if anyone, especially Morehead, starts acting suspicious." Paul continued. "But don't needle them if they're acting normal. If Wilton asks you about it, you'll have to tell him the truth. Call if you see Grafton or Hopkins anywhere at the Agency."

"I understand," said Audrey.

"Audrey," Paul lowered his tone, "you are a very brave young woman. You are doing everyone a great service, and you'll never get a fraction of the thanks that you deserve. I'll give you my thanks right now."

They stood and shook hands. Audrey's expression had turned serious. She turned and left the office. Paul worried about what might happen to his young protégé who would be so far away from his reach, and any help he could give her if things went wrong. 

*************** 

Paul stood at his office window contemplating all that happened during the summer. It had been mostly a season of sadness, sprinkled with some happy moments. Some of the joy had turned to sorrow. Summer was approaching its close; Paul knew that this episode was not going to be over soon. His biggest fear at the moment was the young fawn whom he had sent far away to be in the midst of jackals and wolves. This business with Wilton had to be concluded soon. Too much time created more opportunities for slip-ups.

Marge knocked and brought in the mail. Among the items was an interoffice envelope, marked "Confidential". Paul opened it. He found a letter from the Ethics Committee, ordering him to be present at an inquiry. It was the Bert Loehman matter. George Adams had warned of this. One thing in the letter confused Paul. In addition to the Loehman deviation, it mentioned "...and other matters."

The meaning of those words was a mystery to Paul. He had been around the office long enough to know that a vague reference to 'other matters' meant trouble. He knew that he had done nothing wrong. Even his liaisons with Marge would have raised eyebrows, but were not within the bounds of the Ethics Committee. He thought about asking about it. He decided not to. He would answer it when he knew what it was. 

It was annoying to have this come up now. He didn't need more problems.

******* 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Dear Readers,

I hope that you are enjoying this story.

As always, I enjoy receiving your comments.

Autumn Writer 



Chance Encounter Ch. 06



Chapter 6 Bridge to Darkness

© Copyright 2006, 2007 Autumn Writer

It was Tuesday morning. Craig Morehead was sipping coffee and eating his morning toast in his apartment. He signed onto his account page on his bank's website and saw what he was hoping for, a deposit of five thousand dollars. It meant that Grafton had finally come through with some of the money that he owed him. 

"When Ed found out that I had the drawings hidden away, he knew that I held the cards." he said out loud to himself. He adopted a self-congratulatory attitude. Now, he had to ponder how to deal with Audrey. It was a tough decision. He owed her half of everything he collected, but Audrey had no way to know that he had collected anything, unless he told her. On the other hand, she promised him a taste of her bedroom delights once the money started flowing.

He decided that it would start flowing that night. He wouldn't give her half, though. A thousand dollars would look like a lot to a young girl like her, he reasoned. No point in overspending. She would probably demand more later. Craig hadn't been with a woman in so long a time that he and his right hand were starting to have lovers' quarrels. Relief was in sight. The best of it would be when he let everyone in the lunchroom know that he had bedded her. He wondered how he would make them believe it.

He arrived early in the parking lot on purpose, waiting for Audrey to pull in. She finally did and he accosted her as she walked from the lot to the building.

"I've got a package for you!" he blurted out.

"Quiet!" she snapped. "Someone will hear you!"

Craig looked around and lowered his voice. "I'll bring it to you tonight. You remember the other part of the deal, don't you?"

"What part?" Audrey demanded. 

"Don't be cute with me. You know what I'm talking about!" Craig retorted with lust in his voice.

"I said to send some serious money my way and we could talk," she reminded him.

"How does a thousand sound?" he asked.

"I said serious money, Craig. You didn't take peanuts from Grafton and I'm not taking peanuts from you."

Morehead, assuming that she had caught him cheating her, was speechless for a moment. He was getting frustrated and angry. His face reddened.

"Besides," she went on, "I'm having my period this week, so I'm not going to bed with anyone but myself!"

Morehead stopped in his tracks, stymied and confused. Audrey didn't stop. She walked even more briskly and left Morehead behind. He became angry as his plans for the evening unraveled. He suspected that she was lying to him.

Audrey's heart was pounding, but she was proud of herself for keeping her cool. The old Tampax ploy had worked a few times in college. She hadn't needed it since then. She was worried by the new wrinkle. The meeting with Paul and Wilton was on for Thursday. If the meeting came off on time, things would go alright. 

************ 

As Audrey walked into the Agency in Springfield, Paul was in his office in Michigan prepping for his appearance before the Ethics Committee. He set his coffee cup on the desk and decided that he had prepared enough. He called Ted Wilson and asked if he was busy.

"Take a last look!" he called from the doorway of Ted's office. "I'll be in front of them in forty-five minutes."

"I hope that you make out alright," Ted consoled.

"What can they do?" Paul countered. "Fire me? Let them! I could use a vacation. Every man deserves a 'golden parachute' once in his life."

The two men had a chuckle at the gallows humor.

"That's not why I came to see you, Ted," Paul said, changing the subject. "I was wondering if there was something that I could do for Glenda. You remember—she's the woman that I was going with in Chicago. I'd like to help her find a new job," Paul continued. "There's got to be someone in that city who could use her. It would have to be at the same level or above."

Paul explained the pension service credits problem to Ted. He nodded that he understood.

"If we find someone big enough, they might buy out that final year at present value," said Ted.

"One last thing," Paul cautioned. "it has to be off the record. Dunn can't be involved because of the lawsuit. Besides, I don't want Glenda to feel like I rescued her. Then she'll think that she owes me, and I don't want that. She has to be able to claim it as her own."

"No problem, Paul," Ted assured. "We'll get one of the headhunting firms in on it. I know just the one. I've done some favors for one of the principals. She'll be glad to help out; she loves to get involved in this kind of thing. Leave it to me. I'll call you after your session with the Committee and get some details."

"Speaking of which," Paul looked at his watch, "if I don't get moving I'll be late. He raised his hand in salute as he left for his meeting.

********* 

The Ethics Committee was not really a committee of the Board, but a newly-created sub-committee of the Audit Committee. The larger group reviewed company issues that affected the financial statements that Dunn presented to its investors and the public. The smaller group was geared to questions involving high-ranking personnel that might affect the corporation's public image or standing. As part of the Audit Committee, it had access to the Internal Audit staff. Paul didn't know it, but his case was the first one that ever came before the new creation of the Board of Directors. It was born of the contagious fever of the Sarbanes-Oxley era when companies were expected to injure themselves with self-flagellation at each opportunity. Dunn Chemicals had never been involved in any scandal. The Board, however, decided to go Sarbanes-Oxley one better in creating the Ethics Sub-Committee. 

Paul was exactly on time. He strode to the long table in the conference room and took a seat opposite the three chairs lined up for the Board members. All of the members were from outside Dunn's management. One was a retired food company executive; another was a mutual fund director. Both had been directors for a number of years. They were present in the meeting room waiting for Paul when he arrived. The third member was not in the room. It was Allison Greene, the Managing Director of a charitable foundation with many interests. Before she held that job, she had been in government service in the nineties. She was new to the Board. Ted Wilson's secretary, serving as stenographer, sat to the side ready to record minutes. 

"Allison has been detained by a lengthy phone call. She should be here by now. We'll just have to wait for her," said Allen Richardson, the food company executive, and chairman of the sub-committee. His face wore an expression that was meant to convey the solemnity of the occasion. Paul knew Richardson the best of the three. He had been a supporter when Paul was proposed as Vice-President. 

Elizabeth Pender was the mutual fund executive. She looked annoyed.

"We should have just done this with memoranda," she said. "I don't see anything very serious here. I'm supposed to be at our headquarters in California right now." 

Paul said nothing. He took solace in Pender's statement. He thought Richardson would understand, too, having been in the business world for decades. They sat for three minutes in silence.

Allison Greene finally made her grand entrance. She swept in with an air of self- importance and a scowl. Greene was a woman in her late fifties. She had black hair with chestnut highlights and a dark complexion. She had once been slender, but time had added some girth. Her attire suggested that her self-image had not yet caught up to reality. She had that 'strapped-in-tight' look. Despite her age, her face was wrinkle-free, suggesting some surgical intervention. More than that, she had an insincere, characterless aura that forced people to struggle to like her.

"So sorry, everyone!" she sighed loudly as she took her seat to Richardson's right. To his left was Pender. The committee sat in a row facing Paul who was alone facing them on the opposite side of the long table. Paul saw that the group had some files in front of them. He recognized Bert Loehman's personnel file. He also saw the Policy Manual.

Richardson brought the meeting to order. He read aloud the policy section that Paul had broken and a narrative of the facts. As he finished he asked Paul to comment.

"It's all true, as Mr. Richardson stated," Paul said. "When I took the action I knew that the offense of Mr. Loehman was a case for automatic discharge. I decided against it for a good reason. We need Bert to help us with a lawsuit in which we are defendants. We also need his help in presenting evidence in the case of a fraud was committed against Dunn. Firing him would have ruined all that."

The members of the sub-committee sat looking at Paul, expressionless. Paul felt that were waiting for more. 

"Other than this, he has a spotless record. He's going to retire in a few months with forty years' service. I thought that the deviation was warranted." Paul added.

"Why didn't you go through channels?" asked Richardson. "It would have taken weeks." Paul answered. "News of it would have leaked. Our opponents would have found out, and that would have meant they would be aware of what we had found out."

"Did you take it easy on this employee because you have known him for a long time?" Pender asked.

"I would have been tempted to," Paul answered, "but the other factors made that irrelevant."

"You did this favor for Mr. Loehman so that he would say whatever you dictated to him?" Greene hissed out. "Aren't you pursuing personal vendettas?"

"No," answered Paul, keeping calm, "everything that we have is documented and supported by fact. We have corroboration."

"That brings up the 'other matters'," sneered Greene. "You have corroboration in the form of stolen goods. You conspired with an employee of the State of Illinois to steal drawings and deliver them to you."

The accusation alarmed Paul. No one knew of Audrey's delivery of the drawings but a few people. There was no reason for Allison Greene to know it, except for one of those trusted had leaked it. 

"The drawings that I received were taken fraudulently from Dunn." Paul stated coolly. "I rightfully took them back into our custody. The person who brought them to me had received them voluntarily from one of those responsible for committing the fraud. I'm traveling to Illinois on Thursday to present our evidence to the State authorities. No one on our side has committed any dishonest act."

Greene was undeterred. "How can we believe this preposterous story?" she cried. "You've made it up! You are subjecting this company to criminal prosecution!"

"I have plenty of evidence to say that I did not make it up. My meeting with the Illinois officials is a fact on the record," Paul responded.

"You had an affair with the secretary of the plaintiff's attorney. You took her to your cabin on the Upper Peninsula. Is that true or false?" spat Greene.

Greene revealed herself in her final hysterical thrust. Paul looked at her expression and could tell that she knew it—she just hoped that Paul had not caught it. 

Paul realized that whatever Hopkins knew, Grafton would, too. They would easily figure out that Paul would present the drawings to Wilton as evidence. The phone call that had delayed Greene had probably been Hopkins instructing her. Her tirade was a last ditch attempt to abort the presentation to Wilton. Paul sensed that the desperate ploy meant that he was getting close to them. 

"The woman mentioned and I had a relationship," Paul stated. "I took her to my cabin. At the time the lawsuit against us did not exist. We were both single. We have since broken off our relationship. I have not seen her since then. You don't have a right to delve into this. I'm sorry that you've made this personal," Paul declared. "I can prove the dates if I have to." 

"I think that we should order him to put this whole thing on 'hold' until we can look at it more. He should deliver those drawings into our custody." demanded Greene. Paul half-expected her to pound her fist on the table.

"This sub-committee doesn't have that authority, and I don't think a delay is in order," said Richardson, shaking his head. 

After a few seconds of silence, Richardson asked Paul if he wanted to add anything. Paul declined. Richardson dismissed Paul.

"We'll write our recommendations in a report to the Board," Richardson said.

"Put it on the record that I believe Paul," called Pender as she rose from the table. "I have a plane to catch to California. 

She and Paul walked out of the meeting room together. Paul looked over his shoulder. Richardson had a burdened look and Greene looked even angrier than before.

Paul and Elizabeth Pender waited for the elevator together. 

"I hope that you have good luck on Thursday," she said.

********** 

Paul returned to his office and sat behind his desk with a fresh coffee. The inadvertent disclosure by Allison Greene made him question the trust that he had in those closest to him. It was a gnawing feeling to know that one of them was guilty of betrayal. He decided to figure it out later. It was too late in the game to have an effect on events. They were charting a course of their own. He called Audrey. She was the only vulnerable link left in the chain. 

Paul: Audrey, Paul Crane. Can you talk now? I just want to check on things. 

Audrey: Yes, I can talk. Something happened this morning. Craig Morehead told me that he had money from Grafton for me. He wanted to give it to me tonight.

Paul: What did you tell him?

Audrey: I put him off for a few days. 

Paul: Audrey, don't take that money under any circumstances! How did you put him off?

Audrey: He thinks that part of the deal is that I promised to sleep with him once the money started flowing. I told him it was my time of month.

Paul: Why does he think that you plan to go to bed with him?

Audrey: Well ... he told me he wanted it and I didn't exactly say no.

Paul: You should not have done that! How long can you hold him off?

Audrey: Probably until the end of the week; maybe over the weekend.

Paul: Grafton and Hopkins know that I have the drawings. I just found that out. I don't know how they found out. How did Craig act? Do you think that he knows, too?

Audrey: No, he acted like he can't wait to get me into bed!

Paul: It means that Morehead is being double-crossed by his partners. We're still on for Thursday. Keep a low profile until then. Stay away from Morehead! 

Paul didn't like what Audrey had told him. He knew that her promise of sex had clinched the deal with Morehead. He realized that she was audacious. His inexperienced protégé was playing with fire. 

He turned his attention to the leak to Hopkins.

In addition to Paul, there were five people who knew of the status of the drawings. He trusted each of them. 

He knew that it wasn't Marge, and he had taken Ted Wilson into his confidence many times with never a reason to doubt him. Jim Spencer was a poor candidate. He was a rising star with a good salary. Risking it all for a quick payoff would make no sense. 

That left Audrey and Bert Loehman. Audrey was out of the question. Her testimony was damning to Grafton and Morehead. She was the prime source. If not for process of elimination, Bert would have been a poor candidate, too. After the disclosure of his careless release of the files, he had worked hard to help Paul put together his case. His work had been thorough and well-done. Bert knew that Paul put himself at risk by not firing him when Bert knew that what he had done warranted it.

Paul reasoned that the leak had been a careless accident. It could have been to a spouse, a friend, or coworker. It could have been any of the five, but Paul suspected Bert. He had been guilty of carelessness already. 

Whatever had been leaked, the advantage remained with Paul. The evidence in his hands was ironclad and would remain so, regardless of leaks. In a few days he would put it all in Wilton's hands. The leak was too late to stop it. Paul was reluctant to pursue its source. If it turned out to be Bert again, it would be more fodder for the Ethics Committee. Paul considered it a matter to be left alone. 

******** 

Paul flew to Springfield on the early bird on Thursday. Ted Wilson, Jim Spencer and Bert Loehman were with him. When they arrived at the State Office Campus Paul called Audrey, and she made her way to Wilton's office and arrived just before them. Finally, two groups of lawyers showed up. There were three from the Agency, and two from the State Attorney General's office. All told, there were ten people waiting to see Wilton. No one said much as they waited.

Craig Morehead was always interested when a large group was gathered around Wilton's office. This occasion was no exception. He slowly ambled by, glancing into the anteroom. It was easy to pick out Audrey with her long blonde hair. Once Craig saw her, it was easy to recognize the other familiar faces. He saw Paul sitting next to Audrey holding the very tube of drawings that he had entrusted to her. Craig saw the tightly drawn expressions. It was easy to guess the purpose of the meeting. Just seeing the 'Peoria group' waiting without having been invited to the meeting was enough. 

Craig stopped in his tracks and gaped at the collection of people. His face reddened; he said nothing. After a few paralyzed seconds, he about-faced and retreated. Wilton appeared at his office door and invited the group around his conference table.

Paul was surprised at Wilton's easy acceptance of the accusations against Grafton and Morehead. It was as if Wilton had seen all the facts in advance. Audrey and Bert backed him up with their own accounts. Bert showed all of the drawing changes that had been made. The State attorneys asked some questions, aimed at legal technicalities. The evidence was compelling. There was little argument over the conclusion.

Finally, Wilton broke his silence. He buzzed his secretary.

"Mary, tell Craig Morehead that I'll want to see him as soon as the meeting breaks up. Tell Craig not to go anywhere. He should report here right away!" He called out.

The State lawyers started arguing among themselves. It was over whether to bring the FBI into the case. At first, they didn't want to. Later they thought they'd better, since Grafton was out of state.

Wilton's secretary buzzed back. "Mr. Morehead went home for the day, sir." 

Wilton's expression turned angry and worried.

Paul sensed that it was time to depart. Wilton asked to see him alone before he left. They waited while the others left the office. 

"I know that you don't think much of me," Wilton said to Paul.

"I was too hard on you last time." Paul said. "I was wrong; I'm sorry."

"I don't know if we'll ever get Grafton. It all depends on what Morehead is willing to do to save himself," Wilton told him.

"What about Hopkins and Montgomery?" Paul asked.

"It depends on getting Grafton first," said Wilton.

Paul nodded that he understood.

"Craig is the smallest fish and it looks like he's in the most trouble," Wilton continued. "If he's smart, he'll give us Grafton—but who knows?"

"You sound like you've thought this out already," Paul told him.

"I reread the reports and looked at the drawings after you called. I had a pretty good idea before the meeting started. All the lawyers were briefed. This meeting was just to cement it all together," Wilton admitted. 

"You could have done that long ago," Paul stuck in a final barb. Wilton didn't answer.

"What about Audrey?" Paul asked.

"Miss Wright has a short future with us," Wilton said. "She should have gone through channels to voice her concerns. We can't fire her now. We need her cooperation. After that, I'll cut her loose. We could have taken care of all of this within our four walls without Dunn having to get into this."




Chance Encounter Ch. 06



Jean put on the pearl earrings becoming more aroused as she finished dressing. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. As her youngest told her, "Mama still had it going on." She didn't look 46, but 10 to 15 years younger. And she didn't feel her age. All those hours in the gym and pool, the lifting, running, and cycling, had slowed Father Time, but not stopped it. What depressed her about getting old was menopause? She hadn't hit it yet, but how much longer did she have? She liked ovulating and she loved making babies. She wondered if her orgasms would be less intense, harder to reach, a big cock uncomfortable as she got less wet, her vagina smaller. She smiled thinking that menopause might be the only time C's penis would be a good fit. 

Thinking about C and the prospect of climaxing with him when they fucked made her nipples hard. She knew it was a long shot, but perhaps a good fucking from her husband would prove life changing. She would no longer be on the prowl for other men and his submissive cuckold desires would vanish.

They would be like most of the married couples they knew, boring, preferring TV. or sleep to lovemaking. She dreaded that kind of marriage. She and C were Adam and Eve. As to the serpent, el diablo assumed the body of a man, a strong, muscular, arrogant, even cruel member of the opposite sex. And the apple, too tempting to pass up, a cock, but only if it were long, thick, possessed stamina, attached to big balls capable of producing lots of ejaculate again and again.

She had been fortunate too lucky she thought for it to be chance. She attracted serpents offering the ripest tastiest apples for her to partake. She doubted it was chance but the devil. She saw herself as devoted to God, but weak allowing herself to be a conduit for evil. Not just a conduit, but a vessel for his spawns.

C was her Adam, always there to comfort her, sharing in her guilt.

She said a little prayer and made the sign of the cross thanking God for being so kind, hoping he would extend his grace into the afterlife and forgive her for being so weak. She was who she was because of him. All those powerful orgasms were his blessing as were the four children she bore. With all those blessings why did she stray and eat the apple each time offered? Why did he bless her with such great children? They behaved like angels, not devils.

She studied her chest. She adored the open cupped bra C had bought her. She rarely wore it for his benefit, but her lover's. Tonight however was a special occasion. Her nipples were clearly visible against the dress. She knew a few tweaks and she would orgasm. Chewed, twisted, pulled, she liked it best when her nipples were treated rough. Hickies, bites, and bruises to her breasts she wore like a badge of courage proudly displaying them to her sweetheart of a husband.

She was looking forward to dinner. The restaurant she chose was her favorite as it offered private booths. It was over a delicious meal and several bottles of wine she and C had their deepest and best conversations. They were a prelude to physical intimacy and she intended to be very intimate with her cuckold. She was already picturing the two of them in their hotel room she and he still dressed, but her dress hiked up, he flat on his back, and she straddling his face and riding his magical tongue. She didn't know who designed crotch less panties, but she considered him a genius.

She went downstairs. C's eyes had trouble looking into hers as they focused on her two pert nipples. She smiled glad he noticed. She didn't move for a good 30 seconds letting him enjoy the sight. When she did she asked him, "Never seen a woman's nipples before?" 

He laughed, "Was my gawking that obvious?"

She had a delicious smile he thought.

"Like a virgin's," the pause just long enough, "Then again your poor penis must think it is. How long has it been?"

He smiled sheepishly, "15 years this month."

"Has it really been that long?"

He nodded yes.

"Do you remember the date?"

He answered, "Yes. June 5th 1995."

She coyly asked, "What was so special about June 5th?"

He stumbled over his words, "June 5th was the day we gave each other our virginity, when we first made love."

She smiled proud of him for remembering, "That's right. When you made me a woman and I made you a man."

She paused before continuing, "You might have been a virgin, but you were already a man. I was so much more immature than you. You were so patient, such a good teacher. I still remember how much that first time hurt. I should have listened to you and waited until after I was wet. A dry vagina and rubber are not a good mix."

He laughed, "I remember you screaming for me to pull out just as I had gotten all the way in. I think I came from being scared."

She looked wistful, "It wasn't very good. Actually it was horrible, but I wouldn't have wanted anyone but you to take my virginity. I can't believe back then I thought you were huge. I felt like you had ripped my vagina."

His eyes were soft, "I felt bad. I thought I had hurt you too. That was the first time sex was tied to pain. I should have insisted on eating you first, getting you wet, relaxing you. You were so nervous."

She agreed, "You were right, but I've always been stubborn wanting to do it my way. I had convinced myself that it was going to be a flash of pain immediately followed by the best pleasure ever."

He looked sad, "I let you down."

She smiled, "You didn't let me down. We are compatible in so many ways, a perfect match, just not when it comes to...."

He finished her thought, "Fucking."

She thought he was right, not having intercourse, not making love, but fucking. They made lots of love; his tongue served as the substitute for the cock she needed.

She didn't want their conversation to be so deep or melancholic. "Fucking," she smiled as she said it hating the sadness in his eyes, "but because you care about me I've been able to experience its beauty. Look what your generosity made possible, four wonderful children who adore their dad and a happy wife who falls deeper in love with her husband every day."

He brightened at her words knowing she was right. He was selfless, completely devoted to her and the children. In spite of those times when despair knocked at his door drowning him in its darkness he loved his marriage and Jean. Their marriage was normal in so many ways and in comparison to many couples they knew significantly better than most. As to their reversed roles and their sexual practices it certainly hadn't stunted their children all of whom seemed well adjusted and happy.

Besides his generosity wasn't one sided; He got as much satisfaction, maybe more, from Jean's lovers. And because of their therapist, that saint of a man, Dr. Cleason Frost, he was able to witness firsthand the beauty Jean described. He felt a stirring in his loins.

Jean noticed the happy look on his face and made a note to ask what he was thinking about, but it could wait until later. She wanted their evening to start, but not before they performed a ritual started years ago at the suggestion of Dr. Frost. 

She snapped him out of his reverie, "C, it's time."

He looked confused.

"Time for you to kiss it."

He dropped to his knees. She moved forward lifting her dress and he buried his face in her pubis, what they jokingly referred to as the Black Forest because it was so wild, untrimmed, untamed, like her. She was dripping. He inhaled her scent, pulled away and softly kissed her mound. She moaned. While she very much wanted the feel of his tongue it wasn't part of the ritual. He kept raining those soft kisses all over. She opened her thighs and as he kissed her swollen labia she rubbed herself against his face marking him with her juices and scent.

She forced herself to pull away, to break free from the hands kneading her buttocks and the mouth giving her pleasure. The ritual had been Dr. Frost's idea. It was both good luck charm and commitment. He told her in those kisses he supported her, he wanted her experience to be wonderful, he understood it was a prelude to the lovemaking they would have later, and he would remain true and patiently await her return where he promised to use his mouth and provide her even more pleasure.

She let her dress drop, smoothed out its wrinkles. C stood up; there was a sheen on his nose, around his lips, and on his chin. He didn't reach for a towel, but let it air dry. Her scent would be on him the entire night. Whenever she put her face close to his she would smell her on him. The ritual was also about ownership. Wearing her mark he let the world know she owed him. Other women detected his scent and steered clear knowing he was her property.

The ritual had two parts. He would perform the same ritual on her return but his tongue was at her disposal and she wouldn't smell the way she did when she left. Her lover's odor would be mixed with hers. Her C would use his tongue and erase her lover's scent, marking her as his again, until the next time she left.

Pulling away from him hadn't been easy as his kisses were so pleasing. When she grabbed the back of his head and pressed her furrow against the bridge of his nose the feel of his hard flesh against her soft wetness was delicious, especially as she moved her pelvis down feeling his lips kissing hers knowing he wanted to thrust his tongue into her, to French kiss her love canal. 

She looked down at him enjoying the lust visible on his face, but especially in his eyes. He looked crazed and disappointed. He thought he had worn her down but she turned the tables. Now he was the one left wanting. His penis throbbed in his pants. Her taste was in his mouth. 

She willed herself to be in control, "C, get up. We need to go."

He reluctantly did so. She looked down. Although small his arousal was evident in the lump in his pants. She knew it wouldn't take much and was half tempted to reach out, lovingly caress the lump and bring on the climax he so eagerly wanted, but she didn't. Satisfied he was less docile, less attentive, and more interested in his needs than hers. She needed him to be just the opposite. Even though she knew by the end of the night he would pleasure her numerous times before having one or two of his own orgasms his mouth on her sex just felt better knowing he hadn't cum. 

She also had something big to share with him, an idea she wanted to run by him. She needed him to feel less of a husband and more of a cuck. It was always easier to make him psychologically submissive when she demonstrated physical superiority over him. 

She smiled at him motioning to the counter, "My purse."

He reached into it, extracted the car keys, and handed them to her. She took them and headed for the door to the garage. He followed carrying her purse. She knew it was humiliating for him to carry her purse. He might as well have stamped on his forehead wimp, or pussy whipped. She did it for several reasons. She liked to see him uncomfortable behaving in ways noncuckolded men didn't. Even though they had been practicing this for years he still squirmed every time she made him carry her purse. There was still a man inside her cuckold trying to break free, to have the upper hand, to rule the roost. Like a domesticated animal she had broken him driving out his self centeredness, his independence, his selfishness. His world now revolved around her needs. She was the master.

At the car she stopped and waited for him to open it. He did. She got in. He closed it and hustled around to the passenger side. She started the car and after reminding him to buckle up, backed out the garage and drove to the restaurant. 

Her juices on his face evaporated but her scent would stay with him all night. She believed humans were more evolved than other animals, but animals nonetheless. She believed in the power of pheromones and noted how women avoided her cuck after marking his face with her scent. She was positive their olfactory senses were able to detect her odor hours later and interpreted it as a warning to stay away, private property. She had always been both possessive and jealous; time had made it worse. She rejoiced at his being a homebody. She knew she shouldn't worry but she couldn't help but worry one day he would give her a taste of her own medicine. The thought of him with another woman sickened her. She knew it was hypocritical but didn't care. Sharing her self, even going so far as devoting her self, to others was her right. As for him, her cuck had few rights and sexual equality wasn't one of them.

She chuckled aloud hearing inside her head the word equality. It was an alien concept to her marriage, akin to asking a supremacist to consider a black man his equal. She thought, "Does not compute", and laughed again prompting her cuck to ask what was so funny.

She smiled at him and made up a story she found amusing. He thought it was funny too. She liked the way he laughed. He was approaching the half century mark but she thought he was as handsome as the day they met. Thinner on top, his eyesight worse, still no wrinkles, still lean and an infectious smile. He was very easy going, but being married to her he had to be. And judging from the way he looked at and responded to her still crazy about her. Being loco for her after all their years together trumped everything else. She would never tell him, but she adored him for his worship of her. No matter the cost he willingly paid the price to get her what she wanted. He gladly made her desires his.

She looked at him and smiled. He saw her out of the corner of his eye, turned his head, and smiled back. He was glad to see her so happy. He thought George must have really worked some magic, black magic, on Jean. His erection had not gone away but it had lost much of its firmness; then he thought about George fucking Jean and the ache in his loins returned. He wondered why he hadn't called. Jean was still basking in the glow weeks later. He appreciated whatever George did to fill Jean with such contentment. He liked seeing her this way. She was he knew very infatuated, if not in love, with George. 

She asked, "What are you thinking?"

He answered fidgeting as his penis strained, binding in his underwear, "How much I like the glow on your face."

She smiled stopping herself from extending her hand and caressing that lump in his pants. She didn't want him climaxing before dinner, but his words were so sweet and his voice sounded so sincere she felt she owed him a reward.

"I'm glad you noticed. I feel the change too. I have George to thank for snapping me out of my funk."

C commented, "I owe George big time."

Jean smiled, "Yes, you do. We both do. I'm sure we'll figure out how to repay his kindness, making love to an old woman."

C knew she was joking but felt he should further boost her self confidence, "You're not old and you still turn heads. Lots of men would like to have sex with you."

If she was a cat she would have been purring. Everything C was saying was music to her ears.

"That is so sweet of you C, but I don't want every man, just a select few, and I want it to be about more than just sex. I'm looking for a boyfriend."

He didn't want to spoil the mood so he thought it best to keep quiet. She was referring to her previous lover. They had been a couple for several years. He was they both thought comfortable in what had become less of a bull, queen, cuck relationship and more of a polyamorous one. Jean still treated C as her cuck but without active involvement of her boyfriend. It had been a great time in her life, if not the greatest. She felt as though she had two husbands and two households. C had made it easy for her to maintain a healthy balance and was she knew a reason the relationship lasted as long as it did. Jean suspected it ended because her boyfriend wanted what she couldn't deliver, marriage. Jean knew C would have supported whatever decision she made because divorcing him and marrying another man would have been the ultimate humiliation and psychologically the best orgasm. She imagined he would spend years masturbating to the news of being dumped. If they didn't have children she might have considered it, but a part of her needed what C brought to their marriage. 

She liked having a boyfriend and for a short term submitting to him, but long term it held zero appeal. She was proud to wear the label female supremacist. She liked being in charge. 

They arrived at the restaurant. The valet took her keys and opened the door for her. Jean got out and C exited the passenger door. When bench seats were the norm in cars C entered and exited through the driver's side, getting in before Jean and exiting after her. Jean took C's hand and led them into the restaurant.



Chance Encounter Ch. 06



"It's a funny way to show gratitude," Paul said, saying nothing of his prediction to Audrey and his promise to help her find new employment.

"She should have come to me," Wilton repeated.

Paul told Wilton that Dunn would cooperate with the Agency. 

The two men shook hands and parted. Each knew that they would never be close, but they stopped being enemies. 

Wilton went back to his office and closed the door. The lawyers were already gathered waiting for him.

************* 

Craig Morehead sat in his car in a fast food parking lot. He had planned on eating there, but was too upset for food. He tried to analyze the day's events, but his mind was too confused to sort them out. Earlier he had been making plans to bed Audrey that weekend. She had brushed him off once, but he wouldn't allow her to do it again. After that, he saw her as she prepared to betray him. He was angry, but his fright had left no room for rage at the moment. His instincts told him to put time and distance between him and the Agency. He called Personnel to tell them that he needed two weeks' vacation due to 'his father's health emergency in Florida'. He didn't think that the ruse would work for very long. He needed some time to dash back to his apartment to pack some clothes and then get out of town. He couldn't believe it, but he was on the run. 

He had placed a call to Ed Grafton about an hour earlier, and left a message. He picked up his cell and called again. Grafton answered.

Morehead: Ed, Paul Crane got hold of the drawings and gave them to Wilton. They had a big meeting this morning. I left work. They think that I'm on my way to Florida to take care of my father. They'll be coming for me any time. You've got to help me!

Grafton: I heard about it. You made a mistake by running. You should have told them that they were wrong and then hired a lawyer. You'll probably get fired, but if you keep cool, you can avoid prosecution.

Morehead: Why should I get prosecuted and not you? 

Grafton: Who would it be besides you? They have nothing on me. You're the one caught red-handed with the drawings that you stole.

Morehead: But you are the one who changed them!

Grafton: It means nothing. No one saw me.

Morehead: You told me that you changed them.

Grafton: It would be your word against mine. They would never be able to extradite me to Illinois on that. 

There was silence on the line as Morehead was lost for words.

Grafton: Look, Craig! All of this is your fault for trying to squeeze me for money. You should have left it alone. I should let you die on the vine, but I'm going to find you a lawyer. Give me your cell number and I'll call you back later.

Morehead: where am I going to get money for a lawyer?

Grafton: Don't you have the five thousand that I gave you?

Morehead: It's still in the bank.

Grafton: You had better get it out before they put a hold on your account. 

Morehead: you've got to send me more money.

Grafton: How can I do that, Craig? They'd trace it to me. If I go down I can do nothing to help you.

Morehead: I'll drive to St. Louis and meet you.

Grafton: Absolutely not! Just make yourself scarce for a few days. I'll find a lawyer that you can trust and call you in a few days. Get that money out of the bank. You'll need it!

Grafton hung up abruptly.

The conversation with Grafton made Morehead more confused than ever. The warning about his bank account gave Morehead a sense of urgency and reminded him that he was being quickly cut loose from any base he might have had. It surprised him that Grafton knew about the details of the meeting so quickly. He wondered if Grafton and Wilton were conspiring to frame him.

Craig convinced himself that he was innocent. In the whole affair, he had gained a mere five thousand dollars. Grafton had probably made twenty times that, plus his new job at Montgomery. Hopkins' take was even bigger. He wondered if he could trust Grafton. The realization should have driven him back to Wilton. He could have bargained for lenient treatment just by confessing and helping to get Grafton.

Morehead drove to a branch of his bank to withdraw his funds. He sat in his car, afraid to go in and present his check. He feared that his account was 'on watch' already and the bank's security cameras would record him. He was wrong in his assumptions, but his psyche was already playing tricks on him. 

Morehead was alone, isolated and frightened. His mind functioned in a linear way and a dense fog lay in his path. It was impossible to proceed straight ahead without crashing into obstacles that he could not predict. As he drove aimlessly around the city hoping for Grafton to call him with a rescue, he sensed his inadequacy. He knew Grafton wouldn't call. He clung to the futile hope, it was all he had. 

He could no longer focus on his present situation. His memory played back the events of his life—a sad biography. It was an escape. His mind's eye saw his high school days, the champion wrestler whisked off to college on scholarship. Everyone was so proud of him, but he disappointed. There were his college days. He studied hard, but grades didn't come easy. He tried for girls, too, but they didn't come any easier. Maybe he should have tried studies that weren't quite so hard, but he didn't know how to tell his parents.

His failed marriage came into view. His children were strangers whose father-figure was his estranged wife's live-in boyfriend. He supported them—strangers and betrayers. His career crept into his thoughts. As a young man he had dreamt of an engineering career of promise and advancement, but his grades forced into civil service. He was patient, enduring the endless waits for promotions. His salary was enough to keep him afloat, but never enough to satisfy.

"To satisfy what?" a voice asked.

"There would be unknown delights to feast upon," he answered the silent voice. "It would relieve the stale taste of his life. Money was the answer."

This one time, he reached out. He had tired of pulling his arm back from opportunity. It appeared so simple; there were so many ripened fruits on this new tree. Surely there would be a few for him. Grafton couldn't deny him a share. He had looked away countless times while Ed plundered the harvest. This one time was all he asked. He took what Grafton should have offered him all along. He would end his thirsting and humiliation. Disappointment and loneliness would fly away. It was his last chance. Grafton was retired and departed.

He almost had it in his grasp; he only missed it by a whisker. He sniffed the aroma; he longed for the taste. Once he clutched it in his hands; now it sifted though his fingers like grains of sand. He had taken Audrey into his confidence so that she could help him. He was going to win and her body was part of the prize. He needed her help because Grafton wouldn't share.

Why had it been so easy for Ed, and difficult for him? The answer was Audrey's betrayal. How could she do it to him after he offered to share with her what Grafton had always refused to parcel out? It was his fate to be cheated. If he couldn't have what he had won, he would have revenge. It lit the fires of rage.

He started looking over his shoulder for flashing lights of police cars. Surely they must be after him by now. He was afraid for himself; he had always been afraid of something. He resented always being under the thumb of fear. Fear and rage dueled for control of him. The two merged to form a new, unnamed emotion. He crossed over the Bridge to Darkness—became immersed in it. He allowed it to sweep him outside the edges of reason. 

************* 

For Audrey Wright it had been a trying, taxing day. The session that Paul attended in Wilton's office had been only half of the day's toil. Following that, there had been an afternoon of grilling by the lawyers and the giving of depositions. There was a confrontation between her and Wilton, which she had expected. It had been unsatisfying because she had no chance to tell him why she was forced to go outside the Agency with her concerns. She was only there to listen and speak when spoken to. 

She was finally home as her car found its way into her space in front of her building in the apartment complex. She pulled her briefcase from the back seat and trudged to the collection of mailboxes. They stood on a post at the head of the walk leading up to her security door. She sorted through the mail as she ambled slowly up the walk. She split her thoughts between separating the ads from the bills, and the hot shower waiting for her inside. After that, she would call Paul and fill him in. When she got to the door she set her briefcase down to manage her keys through the bevy of mail in her hands. She finally got the door open and put a foot inside.

All at once she felt herself swept forward roughly by an unknown force. A second later she felt a grip on her arm that felt like a vise. She heard the security door close behind her. It was only then that she turned her head to the side to stare into the glazed eyes of Morehead. He said nothing, but she heard him growling deep in his throat.

He thrust out a meaty paw and grasped the keys from her. He seemed to know which apartment belonged to her. There were only four on each of the two floors of her building. Perhaps he had read it from the mailboxes. 

"Let me go, Craig!" she scolded. "Don't get yourself into more trouble than you're in already."

He seemed not to hear her, but managed the key with one hand. Audrey struggled to free her arm, but his grip was too strong. Morehead pushed the apartment door open and threw her in. Audrey tumbled to the floor. Morehead followed and stood over her, glaring down.

As Audrey tried to get up Morehead grabbed her two arms and threw her against a wall about ten feet away. 

"You bitch!" he screamed, and lunged for her. Audrey was able to dodge him.

"I'm gonna take what you promised me!" he roared. "You cheated me, but I'll get you!" 

He hoped to see fear on her face, but found her contempt and defiance. It enraged him even more. Audrey had trapped herself in a corner when she eluded his first thrust.

She steeled herself for the attack. She proved more formidable than Morehead expected. He charged her and was met by her clawed fingers in his eyes. A sane man would have run away. Morehead backed away, regrouped and charged anew, barely able to see. This time he was able to grab her arms. Audrey kicked him in the groin. Morehead bellowed in pain, but shook it off.

Audrey screamed. "Help me! Please help me!" She didn't know if anyone heard her. 

She saw neither the first blow that struck her, nor any of the others that followed. It landed flush on her right temple. Morehead had all the force that he had in him behind it. She didn't feel pain at the blow—only shock, the crushing impact and the loss of senses. It knocked the breath from her and she staggered. She could no longer hear anything but a ringing in her ears.

As she struggled to regain her balance, another blow like the first landed on the other side. Morehead delivered a new pair in rapid succession. He struck back at all who had made his life what it was. He would destroy all.

Audrey lay flat on her back. The room spun and she was barely conscious. She tried to continue the fight as best she could as Morehead threw himself down at her. He straddled her. Boom! Boom! Two more quick hits to the face turned out her lights. Morehead dragged her to the middle of the room and bent to the task of yanking the skirt and pantyhose from Audrey's limp body.

It was a stroke of luck that Audrey's neighbor from upstairs, an elderly widow, was returning from shopping. She and Audrey had become unlikely friends. She saw Audrey's forgotten briefcase in front of the security door. Audrey had set it down as she fumbled for keys. As the old woman carried the forgotten item to Audrey's door she heard the struggle and Audrey's screams for help. She pounded at the locked door to no avail. She hurried to her apartment to call the security officer at the apartment complex.

Several minutes later the guard was pounding on Audrey's door. The police were on their way. Morehead didn't hear the pounding. The guard used his passkey. Morehead only looked up as he burst into the room. He withdrew his penis from the unconscious Audrey, stood and turned to face the intruder. Morehead began ejaculating semen about the room.

The security guard stopped, stunned for a moment. Morehead charged him, holding up his pants. He pushed him aside and ran out of the building. He stopped long enough to refasten his trousers. He ran past his car and sprinted aimlessly into the complex. The police had him in handcuffs ten minutes later. Audrey remained unconscious, naked below the waist. She bled from one nostril. Her face was beginning to swell and change color from the blows that Morehead delivered to her. The security guard covered her with a blanket from her bedroom.

Craig Morehead, so unsuccessful in everything that he tried, had finally given a project his all. He had neatly destroyed his own life, and had done his best to brutally destroy another's. In his life he had tried everything but violence. He turned to it as his final redoubt. As he sat, handcuffed in the police car, he watched the ambulance carry Audrey away. She was conscious again, barely. He felt neither pride nor remorse. His mind held only a nothingness that he made no attempt to understand. He had traversed the full distance over the Bridge to Darkness where he found his new abode.

*********** 

It was four the next afternoon when Paul found out what happened to Audrey. He had been worried because he had expected a call from her and didn't receive it. It was Harry Carmichael who reached him with the news. He had been working downstate and it appeared in the evening paper of that day. Harry didn't know anything except what the paper carried. 

Larry Wilton called him about an hour later with same news. He told Paul that Audrey had suffered a severe concussion, but no broken bones. Of course, there were the injuries from the rape. Since she lived alone, she would remain in the hospital longer than usual. She was now awake.

Paul: Does she have any family with her?

Wilton: No. She listed none in her personnel file. Her friends said that her father has been deceased for years and her mother is in poor health. She didn't want anyone called.

Paul thanked him and hung up. 

Paul knew that he had to help Audrey if he could. He could never atone for having let her down. He should have foreseen Morehead's unraveling; should have cautioned her. 

He groped, searching for the bitter sadness he knew was there. It was a feeling that resided somewhere in him. They were not strangers. He sought to pull it out and place it over his shoulders like a mantle, so that everyone could see his sorrow. He felt it skulking about in his soul, taunting him. He reached for it, but couldn't get his hands around it. He gave up; he decided to let the pain fester in silence. The mantle would have been a fitting decoration, but useless in his object of bringing comfort to the truly wounded. 

He buzzed for Marge and told her what happened.

"Would you like me to go with you?" Marge asked. "Sometimes a woman needs another woman at times like this."

************** 

TO BE CONTINUED

Dear Readers,

I hope that you are enjoying "Chance Encounter". As always, I enjoy receiving your comments.

Autumn Writer 



Chance Encounter Ch. 07



Chapter 7 The Meaning of Ethics

© Copyright 2006, 2007

Marge and Paul arrived at the hospital in Springfield at ten the next morning. Paul stopped as they approached the ward where they would find Audrey's room.

"Marge, why don't you go in first? You can talk to her woman-to-woman. Tell her that I'm waiting out here, and ask her if she wants to see me."

Marge disappeared and Paul sat in a small waiting room nearby. He wondered what to say to Audrey when he saw her. He had never known a rape victim. He wanted to say the right things to her, but didn't know what they were. He didn't want to say the wrong things, either, and he struggled to figure out what they were. 

After a short time, Marge appeared at the door of the waiting room. "She wants to see you," she said, and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Paul was confused. 

"She wants to see you alone," Marge clarified. Paul obediently made his way to Audrey's room.

Audrey wasn't in bed. She sat in a reclining chair next to the bed, dressed in her hospital gown and covered by a robe. She had on sock slippers that the hospital had provided. She wore no expression on her face. The upper regions of it were black and blue, and puffy with swelling.

"I'm surprised to see you out of bed," Paul said as he walked in. Audrey didn't answer, but her eyes followed him as he walked across the room. There was a small chair next to hers. Paul sat down in it.

"That must be a good sign." Paul pressed ahead, eager for a response from her. 

Audrey still didn't answer, but her eyes were welling with tears.

"I won't ask you how you're feeling," Paul tried a different channel. "I'm sure that you don't feel very good."

"I was so stupid," Audrey blurted out. "I should have known that he would come for me."

"You can't blame yourself, Audrey," Paul offered a weak condolence.

"Everyone knew that he was on the run. I should have been watching out. I was looking at my mail!" A tear trickled out of her eye and ran over the swelled flesh over her cheekbone and down to her chin. "I teased him. I should have known better," she continued.

"Everything that you said is true, Audrey. That doesn't mean that it's your fault. If you blame yourself, you're letting him off the hook. Don't do that."

Audrey sat silently, pondering Paul's words. 

"Morehead's responsible," Paul went on. "He committed an evil act of his own free will. He did it, himself; no one made him do it; it's on his head, not yours. He allowed himself to go out of control. If you hadn't been there, he would have found some one else."

Paul paused, hoping for a sign that Audrey was listening to him.

He's weak and evil. Men of that kind always find a good person to let themselves loose on. The goodness in people reviles them. They want to stamp it out. I'm sorry that it was you; I wish it didn't have to be anyone at all."

"But I was so careless and..." Audrey insisted. Paul cut her off before she could say more.

"Yes, you were a little bit," Paul replied with some tenderness. "I was too. You gave me the clues when I called you the other day. I didn't put them together. I was thinking of other things. I could have warned you. I'm more experienced than you are. I'm the one who should have seen it coming."

Audrey shook her head, but didn't utter a word.

"That doesn't mean that it's your fault, or mine," Paul continued. "Rape isn't the penalty for carelessness. It isn't the just punishment for anything." 

Paul stopped speaking because he found that he had raised his voice without meaning to.

"Your bruises will heal in a week or two, and your other hurts, too—at least the outside ones. You have to make sure that you heal inside, too. You can't carry this guy around inside you."

Paul finished. Audrey's eyes brightened a little.

"Do you really think that I'm a good person?" Audrey whispered.

"Yes, I do," Paul answered. "And I think that you're a brave one, too. I know that you're going to be alright, because you have what it takes right here."

As he said it, he put the three middle fingers of his hand together and softly thumped her chest twice, just above her left breast. As he started to draw his hand away Audrey clutched it and held it tightly against herself. She looked straight into him. 

"You've never touched me before, except to shake hands," she said. "There were times I wished so hard that you would touch me."

"I remember them," Paul said. "It was all I could do not to touch you."

Audrey was still clutching his hand. "It means a lot for you to touch me now," she said.

Paul leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Audrey grasped him around the shoulders as tightly as she could and buried her face in Paul's chest.

She let out a sob, trying to hold back, and then she could not restrain herself and thrust her tears into Paul as he held her.

"Why...did...he...do...this...to...me? He...hurt...me!" she managed to cry out in spasms as she caught her breath through her weeping.

"Let it all out, Audrey," Paul said to her. "You need to."

"Yes, Audrey," Paul said to himself, "give it all to me—I will take it. I have a space inside for it. I'll bury it deep, with the rest of my sorrows. I can do this for you. You have youth, and sweetness and beauty. You should be happy."

As Audrey continued to heave into his chest, Paul felt the demons of pain and guilt leave her and enter him. He plunged them down deep inside himself. There, they would reside silently forever, amidst the loss from Sally's death, and the pain of Glenda ripped from him, of loneliness and isolation and all of the other hurts that he had ever seen and endured. He would entrap them there, never to be released, never to hurt others. He could not kill them, only battle and subdue them, and he was determined to do so.

************** 

The nurses heard Audrey's cries and ran to her room. When they saw Paul holding her they stepped away, knowing that her purging was the best medicine that she could receive. 

Audrey was scheduled for release from the hospital the next day. Paul told her that he would have Marge stay with her for a few days. Audrey refused but Paul insisted. They made arrangements with the hospital to get Audrey's keys. Marge would rent a car and pick Audrey up the next day. 

Just as they were leaving, Mrs. Mongelli arrived at Audrey's room. She was the upstairs neighbor who brought help to Audrey as Morehead attacked her. She had taken the bus to visit her young friend. Marge made arrangements to pick her up after renting a car at the airport. After that, they would go to Audrey's apartment and clean it up before she returned home the next day.

Paul and Marge were riding to the airport in a taxi.

"Buy yourself some clothes and whatever else you need," he told Marge.

"I packed some," she said. "I thought that I might be staying overnight."

"I wouldn't ask this of just anyone," Paul said. "Some couldn't do it and some wouldn't. You're the one person that I knew I could ask."

As Paul said that to Marge she turned her head and looked out the window for a few seconds. She didn't want him to see the moisture collecting in her eyes.

*********** 

Two weeks had passed since the day Paul had presented his evidence to Wilton and Audrey had suffered the rape at the hands of Morehead. 

Audrey returned to her job at the Agency. She seemed to doing alright. Paul called her every three or four days to check up her. Paul pressed her for her resume. She was still putting it together. When she did, Paul would circulate it and make some calls.

Morehead was still in jail. His lawyer kept trying for bail, but had been turned down several times because of the violence of his crime. Finally, a judge ordered psychiatric tests for Morehead and that guaranteed that he would remain locked up for a while. 

Marge returned to her desk after helping Audrey in Springfield. She was in hot pursuit of the Choir Director at her church. He was playing harder to get than Marge had expected. 

The case against Grafton grew cold. The Feds had taken over the case. The prosecutors needed Morehead's cooperation to move against him. Morehead wasn't talking without a reduction in the rape and battery charges against him. Everyone but Audrey agreed that it could not be done. Morehead's actions were too heinous to consider leniency. Audrey's desire to lessen the charges worried Paul. He wondered if it she was profoundly unselfish, or trying to spare herself the ordeal of Morehead's trial. Paul questioned her about it several times. In the end he was convinced that it was her youthful idealism showing itself. She wanted it all. In the end, Paul felt better because Audrey's youth was returning. She would not get her way, though. Morehead was going to face the full rap.

Ted Wilson let Paul know that there were several parties interested in hiring Glenda. He was out of town on business. He would fill him in later.

Paul had an appointment with George Adams that morning. He had not spoken to his boss in several weeks. Soon he was seated in the Corporate President's office. He was sure that the subject was the Ethics Committee's findings on his deviation from policy in the Bert Loehman matter. Paul didn't know what to expect. He had been so preoccupied of late that he had little time to worry about it. 

"George, we've got to deal with something," Adams began. "The Ethics Committee's findings are in. Frankly, it is harsher than I expected, but I can do nothing except tell you what they are."

"Alright, let's have it," Paul said with a sigh.

"It's not the end of the world." Adams said. Paul knew his boss well enough to know when he was avoiding something.

"Let's have it, then, George. I'm a big boy," Paul prodded. "I've seen enough over the past few months to fill up my quota of misery, so one more rock on the pile won't make the mountain any taller."

Adams nodded that he understood. 

"Paul, the Ethics Committee exonerated you on receiving the drawings. They said that what you did was proper. They recommended a punishment to the Board about the Loehman affair. The Board had a hard time with it. In the end, they approved the sanction because it was the first act by the Ethics Committee. They felt that they had to back them up."

"So...?" Paul asked, "What did they do?"

"They stripped you of your Class A Stock Options from last year's bonus," George answered. "For you, that was one hundred thousand shares."

A silence filled the room as Paul let the meaning of the punishment sink in. 

"George, that's hard to accept. My reasons were very sound," Paul retorted angrily. 

"I know, Paul. Off the record, I agree with you. On the record, my hands are tied," George answered.

"This is going to cost a lot," Paul said with anger. "The option price was twenty-seven per share. The shares are up to thirty-five now. That's eight hundred thousand dollars for something that wasn't wrong in the first place. This really burns me up." 

"Some of the directors are concerned that you might do something drastic, Paul," George tried to soothe him. "They know that you had a big part in the stock going up to thirty- five. It's just that they wanted to show that the Ethics Committee has some teeth."

"Tell them to go to hell," Paul spat out.

"What does that mean, Paul?" asked George nervously. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to resign, George," Paul replied. "Just tell them to go to hell, that's all."

George kept silent. He knew Paul had to let off some steam.

"On second thought, why should you have to my dirty work?" exclaimed Paul, heating up. "I'll tell them, myself!"

"No, no, Paul!" cried George, raising his hands. "I'll tell them. It will go better that way."

"Tell them in your own words, I suppose?" Paul said, a wry smile starting to emerge.

"I'll buy you a drink tonight before the Directors' dinner," George promised.

"It will be 'Open Bar'," Paul protested.

"Then I'll buy you a double," George conceded.

George and Paul had worked together for a long time.

************* 

Paul was about to leave George's office, but had something else on his mind.

"There's one last thing, George. It's going to sound like sour grapes after all this, but it's all true and the Board should know about it," Paul said.

"I'm listening," George replied.

"Did you have a chance to look at the minutes of my meeting with the Ethics Committee?" Paul asked, hoping to make the explanation shorter.

George nodded that he had.

"When Allison Greene grilled me about the drawings she tipped me off that she was receiving confidential information from an unauthorized source. There were very few people who knew of the drawings," Paul explained.

George leaned closer. He said nothing but was listening intently.

"There's more," said Paul. "When she started up on my taking Glenda to my cabin on the Peninsula I knew that the information could only come from one source. There were only four people who knew of it: me, Glenda, Arthur Hopkins and his lawyer, Judson. She had to be communicating with Hopkins. It's the only way that she could have known."

"Are you sure of your facts?" George demanded. "This is serious stuff! As a director, she owes her loyalty to Dunn, but you're saying that she's working for Hopkins."

"I'm sure!" Paul attested. "I think that the whole thing was a setup to derail us from fighting this lawsuit over the Peoria. From the minutes you'll note that she tried her best to get her hands on the drawings."

"You should take this to Richardson," George said. "It's only right. It's his committee to clean up if he has to. They're still in town. You should try to button-hole him today before they fly out."

Paul nodded. He thought that he had done enough by passing the ball to his boss, and George sensed his frustration.

"I would have to bring you in, anyway," he explained. "Whatever I would say would just be second-hand."

********** 

During their interim quarterly meetings, the hotel of choice for the Dunn Directors was the local Marriott. At four that afternoon the meetings were over for the day. The Directors had scheduled a dinner together that evening and they all retired to their rooms to get ready. On this day a fly on the wall of a certain room was watching one of the directors get ready in a very unusual way. It looked down at Director Allen Richardson sprawled across his disheveled bed. He was nude. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but he was preoccupied and didn't see the fly. He was concentrating on the nude woman whose mouth was attached to his erect penis. Allen was thrusting his hips up at her, close to ejaculation. The woman performing her oral arts was humming as she moved her head up and down on him. 

It was impossible to tell the identity of the woman. Richardson's legs were spread and bent up like a frog's. The woman was perched between them and she was on her knees. Her back was rounded over as she bent to him, so that neither her face nor her form could be made out. She held the base of his organ with one hand to steady it. The other she used to cup his testicles, or deliver a shocking probe to an area that Richardson used to only dream about as he watched his stag movies. 

The woman—one might say artist—had great skills. As Richardson would thrust up, with a final effort in preparation for the firing of his salvo, the woman would back her head away and allow his intensity to subside temporarily. The cycle would start anew. First, a deep swallow down to the base would be followed by a slow stroke upward with even suction. When she would approach the glans, she would wrap the sensitive tip in her tongue, and swirl it around the bundle of nerves. A deep breath would follow, and then a second downward plunge would ensue. Then as she would reach the bottom, she would hum some high note, perhaps a C, or a D-sharp. She repeated the maneuver many times but each plunge seemed to catch Richardson by surprise. 

The unknown, musical woman started the journey upward again.

"Please don't tease me any more!" Richardson gasped. "I need it now."

"Oh, Allen!" the vixen cooed, "you always cut me off before I'm done. Now just lie back."

"Please!" Richardson pleaded.

The woman thought a moment and decided to relent. Instead of a renewed downward stroke, she let her lips encircle the tip of his organ. She alternated between suction and licking. Richardson gasped harder; his breath became uneven. She knew that his climax was not far off. A little more sucking, some licking, a tickle of the scrotum, some gentle pulsing suction, and Richardson arched his back and thrust up hip hips. His semen sprang from him and he cried out. The woman caught it in her mouth and let it flow down her throat. It was effortless. There was no spilling.

The woman, uncoiled her body. As she crawled up Richardson's body to lie next to him she teased him.

"Allen, you always leave such a good taste in my mouth whenever we get together!" as she giggled to show him that she, too, had enjoyed the fellatio.

The change of position revealed the woman's identity. It was certainly not Richardson's spouse, whom he had left behind in Des Moines. One might have guessed a recruit from the secretarial corps at the office, but it wasn't. It was not it a call girl of local talent, either. The fellatrix turned on her side. The dark hair and complexion, the slightly chubby figure and the wrinkleless face pegged her at none other than fellow outside Director of Dunn Chemicals, Allison Greene.

"Allison, you're a magician!" Richardson complimented her as he caught his breath. 

"Well, you know that practice makes perfect, Allen," she said, snuggling next to him. "And I love practicing on you—especially after you were so nice and helped me with that Paul Crane problem."

"I still feel badly about that," Richardson said

"He'll be alright. There will be plenty of more stock options in his future, and I promised my friend, Arthur, that I would do this for him," Allison purred. "You don't feel bad all-over, do you?" she asked as she stroked the tip oh her finger lightly along the length of Richardson's deflated organ. "A favor for a favor—that's fair enough!"

In the lobby of the hotel, Paul waited impatiently for Richardson to come down to meet him. He had obviously forgotten their appointment. Paul planned to inform on Allison Greene as they sat in the hotel bar and sipped a scotch together.

Paul tired of waiting. He approached the front desk.

"Can you tell me which room is Mr. Richardson's?" he asked the clerk.

What Paul asked for should not have been given out, but Paul was well known as a Dunn Executive, and so was Richardson. The clerk wanted to be helpful and couldn't see the harm in telling him.

"Room 308, sir," she said.

As Paul approached Room 308 he noticed the "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging from the doorknob.

"He's taking a nap," he said to himself. "He won't be for long, though," he added as he drew closer. 

As he lifted his hand to knock on the door, he heard voices coming from inside the room. They were too muffled to make out any of the conversation. He recognized one voice as Richardson's; the other was female, but he didn't recognize it.

"He's got a business girl in there, the old dog."

Paul was annoyed. He didn't care much about Richardson's extra-curriculars except that this call girl was infringing on Paul's time with him.

"If they're talking, maybe they're almost done," Paul continued the conversation with himself. 

He ambled back toward the elevators, which were hidden in a small alcove that was recessed off the hotel hallway. He decided he would go back downstairs and wait for Richardson there. It would be pointless to catch him in an indiscreet moment.




Chance Encounter Ch. 07



The maitre'd's face broke into a wide grin upon seeing Jean and C. He had known them since they were in their late teens and he in his early forties. They were he thought a breath of fresh air, completely unconventional in their view of the world. While he would never have tolerated a woman like Jean as his wife, he pointed her out to his daughters as a role model, someone they should aspire to be. He wanted them to be strong and independent like Jean. He was old fashioned, a product of la cultura machista, but over the years he became less conservative and more progressive. He told his wife about Jean skipping over her brazen sexuality and their sexual interaction. She too wanted their daughters to be strong and their sons less macho. 

Jose looked at Jean's chest wanting to have his mouth glued to one of her obviously erect nipples while he hammered her vagina with his cock. Jose had fucked many women in his life, but the woman he liked fucking best was Jean. She was wild but what made it even more caliente was knowing C was right there totally aware of what they were doing. He believed in marriage and conjugal love, but he was a man and needed variety. What he did with those women wasn't lovemaking but recreational sex, an exercise for his libido like the running he did. What made sex with Jean so over the top was her cuckold, her cornudo. Nothing made his cock harder, his thrusting more vigorous, his ejaculations stronger, than putting the horns to another man.

Jose didn't normally hug customers, but Jean was no ordinary customer. They smiled at each other, she opening her arms to him. He moved from behind the desk and they embraced. They kissed on the lips. She had a gift for being able to mold her body to that of another. His cock was semi hard, but became fully erect the instant their clothed genitals came into contact. He swore her labia parted to kiss the head of his cock. 

Jean and Jose were in no hurry to end their hug. Arms around each other, she asked how he was doing, inquired about his wife, Rosa, and their now adult children, and grandchildren. They weren't just long time fuck buddies, but friends. The entire time they talked he could feel her sex against his. He gave her a brief rundown and inquired about her family and children and remarked she was still as beautiful as ever. She blushed and told him he was still as handsome as ever growing more distinguished looking every year. 

Jean was wet before she entered the restaurant, but she got noticeably wetter the second she and the now elderly Jose hugged. Being in his arms with C standing there brought back many good memories. It had been too long since they last saw one another and years since he had fucked her. He wasn't a tall man or muscular, built much like C, but the similarity ended in his pants. He sported an impressively sized cock; it looked even more impressive because of his build. His deep brown eyes could bore holes in you or make you melt like butter. He had the personality of a matador, his cock his sword, the sweet spot her cunt, where he brought her la petit moir, the little death, timing his climax with hers. He was she recalled quite the swordsman.

They didn't want to break their embrace, but grudgingly did. Jean's libido was on hyper drive and she suppressed the impulse to whisper for Jose to take her by the hand to his office and fuck her before she and C enjoyed dinner. She thought it might, however, send C over the edge. She wanted him on the verge of cumming. She half regretted not having him fitted for a chastity device. He had certainly dropped plenty of hints, but she liked him exercising self control. Besides she liked him having his climaxes, especially the spontaneous ones where his mind did all the stimulation.

C stood there like the proverbial bump on the log. His eyes were glassy Jean noted. He was high, the cuck in him inhaling deeply of she and Jose. She knew his penis was involuntarily contracting and its flow of precum steady. 

She shook him out of his trance commenting, "C, say hello to Jose."

His answer was, "What?"He shook his head confirming he had been in his own world.

He extended his hand. Jose shook his unable to suppress a smirk. He accepted men like C existed, but he was unable to understand them. He concluded they were homosexuals, staying in the closet, pretending to be heterosexuals, leaving their wives dissatisfied sexually. He was certain it was why Jean strayed. He didn't understand or even want to understand the dynamics of their marriage. He thought if C wasn't gay he was either asexual or a pervert who had a mental block when it came to sex. He just didn't think it was possible for a couple like them to have a sex life with each other. They might be in the same room or even the same bed but they weren't getting off together. He thought their affection for each other was genuine, but doubted there was passion like he and Rosa shared. He wondered why Jean tolerated life with C. Was it because they had children together or out of security? He knew C made good money and Jean didn't work. 

He ceased analyzing their marriage and focused on how much fun it was to fuck Jean. It had been years since Jose last ran into C. Usually it was Jean with her girlfriends or a new boyfriend who graced the restaurant with her presence. He had fucked her months ago and it had been very good but nothing he remembered had been hotter than when he fucked her with C nearby.

C had trouble maintaining eye contact with Jose. They weren't friends. Jose stared at him. He hadn't been in a great mood but he brightened at the thought of humiliating Jean's cornudo of a husband.

He spoke, "Good to see you C. You look well."

C answered, "You do too. Jean didn't tell me you worked here."

Jose puffed his chest out, "7 years. I'm the maitre'd."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you. And how is life treating you?" Under his breath but loud enough for C and Jean to hear he added in Spanish, "Todavia un cornudo?" He loved their reaction. In a flash Jean's face went from a smile to a smirk and C went white then red in the face. La verguenza (shame) was etched on his face.

C thought about ignoring his comment or telling him to go to hell, but all he could muster was, "Si, todavia un cornudo (yes, still a cuckold)."

Jose smiled, glanced at Jean who was enjoying C's humiliation getting wetter he knew by the second and said, "So, you won't mind if I borrow Jean for part of the night?"

C stuttered, his 4 inches of manhood throbbing, "No, I wouldn't mind, but only if Jean wants to."

Jose retorted, "Jean will want to. She always wants to. My polla satisfies her." He glanced at Jean, "Correcto?"

C looked at Jean; she looked like he felt, high. What was happening was real, but it felt surreal. He couldn't believe this was happening; it was a fantasy come true. After all these years on a rare date with Jean who do they run into but Jose, Jean's second lover. Jose marked a turning point; he brought to the surface Jean's dominant even sadistic side which revealed C's submissive, masochistic streak.

Jean answered, "Correcto."

C's knees were shaking. A man close to 70 could in the blink of an eye exercise complete control of his wife. He knew he couldn't cut the mustard, but to have his wife prefer the cock of a senior citizen to his was a painful reminder of why he was a cornudo. He wasn't man enough for her or any other woman.

There was nothing further to discuss. Should Jose summon her to his office she would go. She would return when he was through. While they were gone he would do what he always did, sit, wait, and think. 

A member of the staff came up and Jose passed them off to him telling Jean he would see her later.

She answered, "I would like that." 

She returned to C's side, grabbed his hand lacing her fingers with his. She felt 19 again. This was going to be a very good night she thought.

After they left Jose returned to work; other customers came and went. When it wasn't busy he outlined what he would do with Jean. He smiled, his cock tenting his pants.



Chance Encounter Ch. 07



As he neared the alcove where the elevators were, he heard the loud click of a hotel room door opening. He stepped into the alcove and turned and looked back down the hall he had just come from, expecting to see the call girl coming toward him on her way to the elevators. The woman exiting the room went the opposite way. Paul couldn't mistake recognizing Allison Greene. She was dressed, but carried her pantyhose and heels instead of wearing them. Paul went downstairs to the bar and nursed a scotch. When he was done he called Allen Richardson on the house phone, who said that he was on his way down to meet with him. While he waited he hoped the bracing amber fluid would soothe him. It couldn't, and Paul knew the 'why' of his debacle with the Ethics Committee. Paul would say nothing about what he had seen upstairs, and he would tell Richardson about Greene's connection to Hopkins, although he couldn't explain to himself what good it would do.

He lifted his glass in a mock toast. "To the Ethics Committee!"

************** 

Summer had nearly given way to Fall. In the City of Chicago, at Northwestern University School of Law, Glenda Mahoney sat at her desk her desk that guarded the Dean's office. She had acquiesced to save her position, serving her unjust imprisonment at the hands of Arthur Hopkins, and his minion, Dean Judson. She had made no attempt to escape, or to venture out of the confines they laid down for her. Each passing week was a step closer to the end of her sentence. 

She had once been proud to be Confidential Secretary to the Dean. It had been the fulfillment of her career dreams. She had pulled herself up by her frayed bootstraps over the course of decades, after starting out life in the hole. Now, as pawn in Arthur Hopkins' game of revenge she plodded day-by-day in unsatisfying service to a man she despised

Glenda had given up on ever renewing her relationship with Paul. At first, her instincts told her to save what she had worked so hard for. Later, she regretted that she didn't have the courage to stand up to her tormentors. She knew that many women had sued—and won—over less. It was too late for courage now. It would be natural for Paul to move on. He had no stake in her and she knew that Paul would be in demand for many single women looking for a man. Glenda knew that most of the pursuers would be younger and much more beautiful than she was She couldn't see the point in fighting when there was nothing to win. There had been, of course, the shame of surrender. Perhaps, after her pension credits were filled, she would try for something better.

She was on the phone dealing with an insistent caller badgering for an audience with the Dean.

"Dean Judson doesn't see anyone without an appointment. You'll have to give me your name and state your business. I'll call you later if he wants to meet with you." Glenda was sure that it was a salesperson, or the parent of a rejected student looking for special consideration.

"If I could just drop in," pleaded the female voice on the other end of the line. "I'm in town today."

"No, that's not possible," Glenda repeated impatiently. "The Dean is out of town this week, anyway. You'll need an appointment. Now if you would just give me your name ..." 

There was a click and the dial tone took over. Glenda hung up; glad that the annoying call was over.

At the other end of the line a woman's face took on a wry smile and she started to make some plans. Contrary to Glenda's assumptions, the news of Dean Judson's absence was welcome news because whom she really wanted to see was not the Dean, but Glenda. The caller had actually been speaking to Glenda on her cell phone from a coffee shop on the campus. 

Shirley Kramer was a woman who was determined and had trouble with 'no' as an answer. She was about the same age as Glenda. Like her, she had been long-divorced and had built a career to stay off the welfare roles. She had grown to be a top headhunter for the firm of Waterman & Agostinelli. One of her biggest clients was Dunn Chemicals. From her Chicago office she stocked Dunn with accountants, engineers and other professionals. Today, she was on a 'missionary assignment' for one of her closest contacts at Dunn, Ted Wilson.

The 'Glenda Project' as she liked to call it, had been on Shirley's plate for a number of weeks. Ted had given her the details. At first it appeared like a routine task, but as she approached Glenda, she had been brusquely rejected. Unlike many in that position, Shirley was challenged, not deterred, by the candidate's reluctance. Because of their similar backgrounds, Shirley understood Glenda's motivations and fears as few people could. When she heard what had happened to Glenda, she was more determined than ever to help Glenda to put things right. The Dean's absence was her opening. She finished her coffee and made her way to the Law School.

At the Law School there was a screening desk. A student on work-study was filling in. Shirley passed some money and a phony story to gain admittance to the executive floor. Shirley found Glenda at her desk. Her practiced eye scanned Glenda's appearance and the neatness of her desk. Her presentation passed her test. Shirley slowly approached.

"May I help you?" Glenda asked. 

"I'm Shirley Kramer of Waterman & Agostinelli," she stated. "I've come to meet with you."

They had spoken briefly over the phone on several occasions, each time ending in Glenda's rebuff. When Shirley made mention of her firm's name, Glenda placed her right away. 

"What are you doing here?" Glenda demanded. "I told you that I wasn't interested. You could get me in a lot of trouble! How did you get past the screening desk, anyway?"

"You won't get in trouble," Shirley assured her. "Your boss is out of town this week."

"That was you!" Glenda exclaimed, as she put the clues together.

"Why don't you hear me out?" Shirley challenged her. "Then, if you're still not interested, I'll get off your back—permanently." Glenda hesitated, wondering if the wrong person might wander into the office at any moment.

"It's the only way you'll ever get rid of me. What have you got to lose?" Shirley continued.

Glenda summoned her courage and accepted the challenge. She ushered Shirley into a nearby conference room, and left the door open so she could keep her eye on her desk and listen for the telephone.

"I don't blame you for not wanting to get involved with me," Shirley started. "When it's over, you'll be glad that you did."

Glenda was skeptical, but complied when Shirley asked her for a summary of her career. Glenda's eyes started watering when she retold the tale of recent events. 

"I started out like you," Shirley said. "I was divorced, had no income. I fought my way up the ladder. I understand what you're feeling. This job is all that you've got. It will take a lot of courage to let go of it. I'll help you."

Glenda felt a sisterhood with Shirley and started to trust her a little. Shirley informed her that there were three employers interested in interviewing her. One was the Law School at a nearby University. Another was a prestigious law firm downtown. 

"Take those interviews first for practice," Shirley advised. "The real prize is the last one. I'll tell you about it after you've done the first two."

Glenda explained her pension problem to Shirley. 

"We've dealt with that before," Shirley seemed unworried. "Leave that to me."

To Shirley's surprise, Glenda had a resume prepared. She kept it in an envelope in her purse.

"It was my little stab of defiance," Glenda explained.

Shirley took it from her and nodded. She would have the staff 'punch it up'. 

Finally, the two women made arrangements to communicate without blowing Glenda's cover. They shook hands and Shirley left.

Glenda was shaking. She was nervous, but felt good. Shirley's visit looked like the real thing. Anything would be better than her present existence, and change was in the wind.

******** 

The leaves were beginning to turn orange. Paul was working in his office. He had the Corpus Christi analysis in front of him. Later he would meet with Jim Spencer about the Engineering Standards Project and Jim's recent trip to Peoria.

Marge was at her desk out in front of Paul's office, typing away at a report. She walked in carrying a coffee.

"I thought that you might like this," she said as she approached him and set the coffee down.

Paul was always amazed at how Marge could predict him. He was about to get a fresh cup. He knew that Marge had something on her mind, though, because Paul always got his own coffee unless he had guests.

"How's everything, Marge?" he asked as she set the coffee in front of him. 

"Since you asked," she began, "I've had several dates with Walter Hartley. You know him. He's the choir director at the church. He's very nice, but ..." she hesitated to find the right words, "... slower to act than you were." 

Paul stifled a laugh. He felt happy for Marge that she was seeing someone who she liked.

"I don't get it, Marge," he teased her. "Slower to act on what?"

Marge glared at him and that told him that she wasn't in the mood to be teased.

"Maybe he wants to keep up his church image," Paul said. "It could be that he's unsure of what you want."

Marge took a deep breath. She had anticipated Paul's answer. 

"Marge, there's something else," Paul turned serious. "When I first went out with Glenda, I was unsure of myself. After Sally, I thought that I was through with that phase of my life. Then, I had to change course. Men are like big ships on the ocean. We don't change direction very easily."

"Didn't you want to?" Marge asked.

"There was a battle raging inside me. I thought that I had already plotted my course. I had to be convinced to change. There was a feeling that staying true to Sally, even after she was gone, was a way to keep her with me. I had a hard time understanding that she would always be there—and that there was room for someone else. The two didn't have to compete. I don't think women have that same problem. Give Walter some time, and he might come around."

"You're still thinking of Glenda, even now," Marge said.

"Yes, I do miss her. I think that she's gone, though. After all the times that I called and wrote her, the door was always open. For whatever the reason, she made a decision." Paul shrugged and shook his head.

Jim Spencer appeared at the door.

"Thanks Paul, I understand it better," she said in a way so the Jim didn't catch on.

************ 

Paul motioned his subordinate over to the conference table. Jim pulled out his notes on the Standards Project. It was a program that Paul had started when he arrived in his present job. Its purpose was to create uniform practices across the company for everything from determining specifications for equipment to the degrees and courses that personnel should have in various engineering positions. It was a big job. Dunn was a huge company, doing business all over the world. The person writing this manual would be prescribing engineering practice in the company for years. Paul had given the job to Spencer to give him preparation for work at higher levels. 

"You've picked up the pace well and the team has better priorities since I put you in charge," Paul pronounced his assessment the progress. "You haven't been in touch with the foreign units enough," he continued. "I'll pave the way in the management meeting, and you schedule yourself to travel right after that. Can you handle the Peoria Project and this at the same time?" 

"I can handle Peoria because there's nothing going on," Jim replied. "I know that a lot of lawyers are filling out a lot of forms."

"Keep me informed," Paul said. It was his way of closing a meeting.

"There is something else," Jim said. He handed Paul an unmarked large manila envelope. 

"What is it?" Paul asked.

"You'd better see for yourself. It could be the thing that gets the Peoria Project off the ground again," Jim answered.

Paul didn't care for mysteries, so he unceremoniously tore at the envelope flap. The envelope contained three photographs, with the digital disk that Paul assumed contained the original images. Each photo was a slightly different rendition of the same event. 

Paul glanced at Spencer, who waited patiently for Paul's verdict. Spencer remained silent and expressionless. Paul looked at the pictures again and then set them face down on the table. 

"Where did you get these?" he demanded.

"Harry Carmichael gave them to me when I was in Peoria last week," he answered.

"That surprises me," Paul said. "What would you do with them if it was up to you?"

"It's a tough call." Jim replied.

"Never mind passing the buck!" Paul was angry. "What would you do?"

"I would use them. It's not like they don't deserve it. Look at what they've done. Look at Harry's company, at this company, at Bert Loehman. What about you and Glenda?" Spencer was on the defensive.

"You'd play hardball?" Paul confirmed.

"With them, I would," Spencer nodded.

Paul took a deep breath. Spencer's advice was so tempting. Paul silently added Audrey's name to the list of victims.

"Listen to me carefully, Jim," Paul lowered his voice and looked straight into him. "I won't do business like that. You are not going to, either. Most importantly, Dunn Chemicals will not. At least it won't happen as long as I'm sitting in this chair and it's my call."

Spencer cast looked down at the table, ashamed. He shook if head slightly.

"Surprised?" Paul asked.

"They hurt you as much as anyone," Jim said. "They had no reason except spite."

"Would revenge help? Would it bring Glenda back? I have to think of the integrity of the Company and the people in it. It's my responsibility," Paul replied.

"It was Glenda who gave Harry the photos," Jim told him. "She sought him out and handed them to him. She said that she called in a favor from the union steward at the University. A call was made to the shop steward at the hotel in the photo. After that, it was easy."

Paul was shocked at the revelation. He looked out the window as if looking for an answer. All he saw were the leaves falling profligately from what had been their strong foundations.

"It doesn't change my answer!" he turned back to Jim and declared. "Glenda's action can be understood. She's alone, frightened and angry. She's hurting worse than any of us. It doesn't make it right, but understandable."

"Alright," Jim said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Forget this ever happened. Think things over better the next time," Paul answered. "It's not your fault. You were just the carrier pigeon." 

Paul buzzed for Marge.

"Marge, I want these photos shredded," Paul said. "Don't just leave them in a pile for shredding, do it yourself. Then destroy this disk."

Paul handed Marge the photos and she couldn't help looking at them. She understood the reason for Paul's command.

The photos were the images of two men. The photographer had obviously startled them. They were peering up at him from where they were, lying on a bed together. Both were nude. On his back was a man Paul later would find out was Dean Judson, Glenda's boss. On top, in the fellatio position was a man Paul knew well. It was Arthur Hopkins. 

********** 

Paul finally reached Arthur Hopkins on his cell phone.

Paul: Hello, Arthur. It's Paul Crane. 

Hopkins: Hello, Paul. I haven't seen you in a while.

Paul: That's funny Arthur. I've been seeing a lot of you!

Hopkins: Do you mean that TV interview that I did a few weeks ago?

Paul: No, that wasn't it.

Hopkins: It must have been that lecture I gave at the University. I didn't see you there.

Paul: No, you're getting colder.

Hopkins: Get to the point, then. Where was it?

Paul: You were in a photo, Arthur, giving some guy a blow job! 

Hopkins said nothing, but Paul could hear him breathing.

Paul: I suppose that you expect me to blackmail you, Arthur.

Hopkins: Isn't that why you're calling?

Paul: No. I'm letting you know that I shredded the pictures and smashed the disk that they were on. No one will use them. I'll beat you, Arthur, but I'm no blackmailer!

Hopkins: I'm supposed to believe that?

Paul: You have no choice, Arthur. Yes, you can believe it.

Hopkins: Where did you get them?

Paul: Mum's the word on that, Arthur. Goodbye.

Paul knew that he had to call Hopkins. Keeping silent would have been almost the same as actual blackmail. Paul had never thought that Hopkins wouldn't believe him when he said that the photos were gone. He thought about it and figured that he should have expected it. Despite the civility, he and Hopkins remained enemies.

All-in-all it was a satisfying call. Paul would never commit blackmail, but he didn't mind that Hopkins sweated it out. In a funny way, Hopkins was doing it to himself.

*********** 

In a coffee shop in the ground floor of the Sears Tower Glenda was having coffee with Shirley Kramer. Although she was taking a day of vacation, Glenda was dressed in her best navy suit. She looked good and all business. It was a final pep talk for Glenda before going to her most important interview. It would be just a couple blocks down the street at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange—the famous MERC. Glenda couldn't help being excited.

"You look great, you are great!" Shirley assured her. "You'll do great!"

"I've got time; it's a nice day. I think that I'll walk. It will give me a chance to relax and clear my head," said Glenda as she finished her coffee. '

"By the way, Shirley," she asked "you never told me how you came to get my name in the first place. I never sent out anything to say that I was looking to change jobs."

"Hmmm!" thought Shirley. "I know that you asked me that before, but I really don't know the answer. I think I got it inter-office or something."

Glenda passed Shirley a quizzical look, letting her know of the weakness in her story.

"This is no time to worry about it, that's for sure!" exclaimed Shirley. "You better get moving!"

The two women hugged and Glenda walked out of the coffee shop to her interview, and maybe to the rest of her life.

*********** 

Bert Loehman always prided himself on having the most energy-efficient house in the neighborhood. He considered it his duty as an engineer to set a good example. Agnes tolerated the Fall tradition of him climbing into the attic. There, Bert would carefully measure the inches of cellulose matter piled among the rafters. If it had settled, the inches would decrease and Bert would order a topping. Bert enjoyed calculating the 'R-value' and then estimating the annual heating cost based on average degree days and projected costs per therm. He would get the data from the local utility company.

Agnes used to roll her eyes as her aging husband pursued the dirty job each September. He would emerge from the attic covered with the stuff and declare how many inches he would have blown in. Agnes considered it a hobby. She never believed that the ground-up newspaper material worked. She didn't understand why Bert didn't just roll out some of the pink blankets of fiberglass and be done with it.

"Fire retardant!" Bert explained each year in one breath. "The cellulose is impregnated with bromic acid." So it was; he didn't expect Agnes to understand. It may have been the reason that he relished the project each Fall. Perhaps it was a hobby.

This year, Agnes was visiting her sister in Minnesota and was due to arrive home on the very day that the insulators were in process. That suited Bert. He wouldn't have to put up with Agnes 'tut-tutting' all the while as the workmen crawled about in her attic and worked the noisy compressor in the front yard. Agnes was philosophical. Bert was never a big football fan, so it was a good trade-off.




Chance Encounter Ch. 07



It was a Saturday. The workers got a late start. Bert thought that he would be able to have the job cleaned up, the workers on their way, and be on time to pick up Agnes at the airport at three. The insulators were getting to the end of the job, but Bert couldn't wait for them. The owner of the company was supervising the job. They had known each other for years.

"Frank!" Bert yelled over the noise of the compressor. "I have to pick up Agnes at the airport. If you finish before I get back, I'll settle up with you on Monday."

"No problem!" Frank yelled back.

"Just one thing," Bert yelled again. "I don't think the soffit vents are flowing right. Can you get someone up there to make sure that they're not plugged with insulation?"

Frank nodded 'yes' and gave him the thumbs up sign. 

As they drove home from the airport Bert told Agnes that the insulators were finishing at the house. Agnes just sighed at the annual ritual. Something struck her as not quite right. She couldn't figure out what it was. As they rounded the corner of their street, it struck her.

"Hurry up, Bert! I want to get home before the insulators leave," she demanded to the confused Bert driving.

As they came within sight of the house Agnes saw the back of a panel truck, towing a compressor, heading away from them. Agnes knew it had to be the departing work crew.

"Damn!" she muttered under her breath.

"What?" asked Bert, even more confused. Agnes didn't answer.

As they parked the car Agnes ran into the house. 

"Take care of my suitcases, Bert," she called over her shoulder. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Bert scratched his head. It had been a peaceful week, but it was over now.

Agnes closed the bathroom door so that Bert would think that she was in there. She made her way to the attic and peered over the billowing piles of new insulation. It looked like grey snow. She stepped across the joists, wading through it. She went directly to the spot at the eaves where she had hidden the paper bag with the money she had collected from Ed Grafton. She hadn't touched it since hiding it there weeks before.

It was gone. 

She searched all around, in case it may have moved with the insulation blowing in. It was gone.

She searched for the memory of why she had taken so much pleasure in collecting the three thousand. It was gone, too. Gone, gone—it was all gone. What had she left? 

She thought of a story to tell Bert when he asked her why she was covered with the insulation material that she thought so little of. He would never know the truth.

******* 

The workmen rode in the back of the panel truck to the shop. One of the young men, Bobby, was wearing a smile and a baggy sweatshirt. The bundle stuffed under it wasn't noticed by the other workers.

"Bobby, why the big grin?" one of his friends asked.

"I just like this work." He told them.

********* 

TO BE CONTINUED

Dear Readers,

I hope that you're enjoying the story. As always, I enjoy receiving your questions and comments. 

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 08



Chapter 8 Endings and Beginnings (part I)

In early November the weather turned cold and raw. Everyday, the sky was the color of lead. Paul's cabin was closed for the winter. The leaves were off the trees. It was that in-between season between Fall and Winter. There were a few flakes of snow in the air, but nothing yet on the ground. Conversation split around two topics: would Michigan beat Ohio State and earn a trip to the Rose Bowl; was it going to be a tough winter and how much would it cost to heat the house. All-in-all, it meant that life was about normal. To Paul, it meant getting some work done. There were new items on his plate. A trip to Latin America was not far off. The EU was promoting some new environmental standards. His area was understaffed and a recruiting program was under way. He also promised to recruit a local football prospect for his alma mater. Paul was busy and that's the way he liked it.

A favorite project of his was coming to a close that evening. It was bittersweet, because of all his works-in-process, this one meant the most to him. It was more important than the Peoria project, or the related lawsuit. It took priority over Glenda's job. It was a labor of love, so to speak. At the outset, all had seemed bleak. Careful, well-thought-out steps had changed that around. He was proud of his part in it, but he was really only an auxiliary to the main player. His secondary role didn't detract from the happiness of the event.

He took the occasion to try the new Italian restaurant in town. It was not so new anymore—only to Paul. He sat at his table sipping a glass of Chianti reminiscing how he and Sally would always try the new restaurants in town. It was one of their hobbies, like swimming nude on a summer's morning at their cabin on the Peninsula. Sally and Paul always liked to share pleasures. It polished the apple, and that somehow made it taste better. There was the pleasure of giving and the duty to receive, and the way they compounded. Glenda was a lot like Sally in that way. It was a memory of the past, but Paul realized that some men go through life without ever experiencing it at all.

Paul forced himself to focus on the subject of the evening. He wondered why his mind had strayed to days gone by. He had never been a 'remember-when' kind of guy. It was a sign of growing old. That was sad, because his body still felt fit. His mind did, too, but his prospects for future youthful activity were poor. Still, he couldn't help reminding himself that there were some good old days. He had to snap back to attention because his guest for the evening was approaching his table.

"Audrey, it's so nice to see you!" Paul exclaimed as he stood.

Paul had not seen Audrey since that day in the hospital several months ago. They had spoken often by telephone. Audrey sent Paul her resume' and he had circulated it for her. She traveled from Springfield to Michigan to discuss her prospects with him. Paul observed that Audrey's looks had returned to normal after the beating inflicted on her by Craig Morehead. He was interested to find the status of her internal scars, too. He would let that wait, because he knew that his protégé was eager to tell him about her future plans. That was a good sign in itself, in Paul's opinion.

"I can't believe that you drove all the way here!" he continued.

"It wasn't too bad." she answered.

"It was eight hours!" he retorted.

"I guess that I was a little eager." She admitted, chuckling.

Paul reached out his hand and Audrey took it. Paul clasped it lightly. Audrey was not frail, but Paul never put the iron vise on ladies. He saved it for men. Audrey's face flashed a look of expectation, and quickly of disappointment. She hadn't meant to display it, but Paul saw it. He interpreted it immediately. Audrey had expected a hug from her mentor, not the handshake.

Paul was sorry that he hurt Audrey's feelings, but her obvious expectation told him that he was right to have taken the step that he had. Audrey had never tried to hide her desire for him. It started the day that they met together in his office over the phony drawings that she had wrested from Craig Morehead. Paul had difficulty understanding Audrey's attraction to him. On their first meeting she had declined to take a chair out of deference to his age. From that beginning, she had come to look upon him as a thirty-year-old. Paul had no such illusions.

A waiter arrived at their table to take orders for drinks. Paul already had a glass of wine, and he stayed with that. 

"I've never had Chianti." Audrey admitted. "I don't know much about Italian cuisine at all. Marge Bates and I ate here together, but all I had was Spaghetti and Chablis."

"Let's get a bottle, then, and we'll share it!" Paul said. "I'll help you order dinner, too. I love Italian food. I hope that you're hungry."

"It sounds wonderful!" she said. "I'd like to try something new."

Paul had no illusions, either, about his feelings for Audrey. He admired her courage and honesty. She was intelligent and sincere. Her smiling face reminded him of a flower opening in Spring. He had been close to giving in a few times. The idea was so tempting. It would be an easy jump from dinner table to her hotel room. Paul would not allow it. His feelings went deeper than fondness. At times he felt himself a father to her, or maybe a close uncle. At other times he was her mentor. In between, he heard a voice that urged him to become her lover. 

"Tell me about you job prospects!" he demanded. Paul already knew that she had an offer from the State of West Virginia for a similar position that she had with the State of Illinois. Paul had sent her resume to that State's Commissioner. They were old friends from their college football days.

"There are two positions that I have offers for right now." Audrey answered. "There are two others that I think will turn into offers if I wait long enough. I've already given my resignation to Larry Wilton. I've been sitting there with nothing to do lately, anyway."

Paul nodded approval.

"You've done quite well for yourself." he said.

"Every time I went to an interview I would hear 'Paul Crane said this...Paul Crane said that'. I owe you a lot of the credit." she told him.

"After what you did, Audrey, you deserved a little push." he told her. "Even if there had been no 'Morehead' episode, you still gave up a lot to do the right thing. That deserves some consideration."

The 'Morehead episode' was their code word for her brutal rape. The euphemism allowed them to avoid the harsh words without running away from the reality of it. He was always testing her in little ways to see if she was still forging ahead, despite the trauma. To Paul, it seemed like she was.

"Well, tell me about them." Paul got back to the point.

"I have an offer from the Environmental Commission of the State of West Virginia." she began. "It's more or less the same position as the one that I'm leaving. It's a nice offer because of the positive work environment. It's smaller than the office in Illinois, so maybe it will be less bureaucratic. By the way, Mr. Campbell told me he played football with you at State! I didn't know that you played football in college."

"Ancient history!" Paul declared. "Let's get back to you."

"There is a consulting firm that will probably make me an offer." She continued. "It sounds interesting."

Paul nodded his head, a sign to continue.

"I have an offer to enter a doctoral program at the University of Minnesota. There is a Graduate Assistant position that goes with it that would pay my way. It would be a lot less money than I've been used to, but I could manage it. I might be able to pick up some other work along the way. The professor told me that you wrote him a nice recommendation letter."

"The final possibility would be a job with a state agency in the South. They're having trouble getting the position funded, so that would be a long shot." she concluded.

By that time their entrees were in front of them. Paul ordered the veal for both of them. It was a good choice.

"If you want to go into consulting, I would suggest getting your PhD first." Paul advised. "With it, you would have a better expectation of a partnership. With a Masters you may be thought of as a journeyman."

"...or a journeywoman." Audrey corrected with a smile.

"Then it boils down to working in West Virginia, or studying in Minnesota." Paul ignored her interjection. "It really depends upon your goals. You're still young. You have a long career in front of you."

"I think that you're telling me to go for the PhD." Audrey said.

"I think that is what you're telling yourself." Paul answered. "I think that you should listen."

Audrey beamed a broad smile. "I knew you would say that! I was hoping that you would. I think that I will."

Paul flashed a smile back to her. 

"Don't be afraid of the challenge. You can do it. Look at what you've handled already."

Audrey didn't answer, so Paul pressed her.

"How are your counseling sessions going?" he asked.

"The counselor said that I was doing alright—that I didn't have to come back. She said that I could call her if I needed her, but I haven't."

"Any bad dreams—any flashbacks?" Paul asked.

Audrey shook her head 'no'. 

"I was actually out cold when he did it." she reminded him. "Maybe I was lucky that way. I remember fighting him. I thought that I could fight him off up until everything went black. I'll always know that I never gave in. That helps a little."

"I think that you're going to be fine. Just remember that you have friends that you can lean on if you have to." Paul assured her.

******** 

As they were finishing their entrees Audrey grew quiet.

"You look like you have something else on your mind." Paul told her.

"I do!" she declared. "It's hard to come right out with it, but this is the last time alone we may ever have together."

Paul raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "I'm ready to listen." 

"It's just this." Audrey's lower lip trembled a bit. "I want very much to have a relationship with you. I want it to be more than just being what we are now. I want to have it tonight."

Paul had anticipated her plea, but he didn't expect her to make it so directly. He should have, he told himself. Her courage was one of her traits that he admired so much.

"Audrey," he answered, "you know that once would never be enough, at least for me."

"That would suit me fine." she declared.

"Would it?" Paul asked. "Maybe it would for a while. Of course you have plans to go to Minnesota, and my life is here. It would be a long-range relationship."

Paul looked at her and she shrugged her shoulders. He knew that she was undeterred.

"You are twenty-eight—just starting out. I'm fifty-four. In ten years you will be at your peak. I will be sixty-four—definitely past mine. In twenty years you will be forty-eight—still a beautiful and vibrant woman. I'll be seventy-four."

"I've already thought of that." she said. Tears were forming in her eyes.

"It's a selfish thing for me, really." Paul went on. "One day you would realize that you had made a mistake and that you should have found a younger man. But, I know you; you would never leave me, or even let me know that you wanted to. You would stick it out without saying a word. I would know it—I know it now—and that is the part that I couldn't stand. I'm so sorry, Audrey. I'm asking you to do this for me."

She sat sobbing, trying not to make a scene in the restaurant. 

"That doesn't mean that I would ever not want to be your friend." Paul said. "It means a lot to me. I hope that we can continue as we are."

Audrey didn't look up. She had stopped crying. She nodded her head.

"You should know that it was a close call for me. If I cared for you less than I do, the answer would have been different." Paul had told her the honest truth.

**************** 

Marge Bates was busy setting the table in the dining room of her home. It was four-thirty on a Sunday afternoon. She was getting the chore out of the way because she still had a lot of things to do. It had been a long time since she used the good silver and china. It was a pleasure. She got the Waterford out, too. She held nothing back. She finished setting the two places; put the serving pieces on the side and the white candles in the brass holders. She opened the wine to breathe—a hearty burgundy. It would compliment the pot roast that she had roasting in the oven. She checked on it, and finding it progressing as planned, made her way upstairs to get ready. 

She finished brushing her teeth and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good on this crisp November day. It cascaded over her head and shoulders. It was so relaxing. She let the spray pound the muscles in her back and took the soap and let it glide over her. First she washed her arms, then her chest and shoulders. She took some soap in her hands and rubbed it on her face and neck. She took a washcloth and did her legs. Soon she had her head full of shampoo. She took some of the lather into her hands. She couldn't help herself. She massaged it into her breasts, softly, gently lifting and cupping them. She let her thumbs stroke over the nipples. She imagined a man doing it. It could have been Carl, her late husband, or her recent lover, Paul Crane. Then her thoughts turned to a man who had never touched them, Walter Hartley. She scooped more shampoo from her hair and let her hands rub the lather into her lower triangle of hair. She pressed firmly, but lightly, and then let her fingers slip lower. She pressed her hips back to deepen the contact. In her mind it was Walter down there, working his magic, whatever he might possess. 

She roused herself from her daydream and rinsed the shampoo from her hair and all around. She decided that it was her favorite brand of shampoo. It was time to select her wardrobe. It was important to choose just the right thing to wear. 

"I need something with warm, inviting colors." she instructed herself. "I need a top that lets him know that I have a nice set, but not too obviously. He'll have to make a move if he wants to get to see them. Nothing's for free in this world."

She searched through her closet. She found just the right skirt. It was a pleated, burgundy-camel plaid. She matched it with a camel-colored short-sleeved sweater of merino wool that fit snugly over her torso, and finished it with a string of white pearls. The rich fabric gave a soft look, to contrast with her large breasts pushing out from it. A dab of perfume behind her ears and knees, a comb-out of the hair and she was ready. 

It was an outfit that was comfortable and friendly. It would make a man feel at home, and invite him at the same time. In a younger world, she might appear matronly, perhaps frumpy. For a pair of fifty-somethings it was just right. Marge knew what she was doing. The presentation must be demure, lest it alarm the quarry. It must match her personality—avoid looking contrived. He would feel at ease in pursuing her. She would appear to be far from captured, so he would venture a swifter chase. With his reserve abandoned, she would turn suddenly to spring the sweet trap.

The hour was approaching six. Marge picked out some music. She was careful to make the right selections. She wanted nothing too peppy, better to be relaxing. A Mangione recording fit the bill nicely. She backed it up with an MJQ and one from Sinatra. She was thinking about another when she heard a car door slam outside in her driveway. 

It was Walter, right on time. Marge noticed that he took pains to approach her front door more slowly than he had to. He wore that wary expression of a soldier entering enemy territory. He was armed as he ventured into 'No Man's Land'. He bore a bouquet of flowers in one hand. In the other was a paper bag, shaped in the obvious form of a wine bottle. His coat was open. He was wearing grey flannel slacks, and a navy, wool vest with a plaid shirt underneath. He finally reached her door. From her view at the window Marge noted that he was as predictable as she had predicted that he would be.

"Come right in, Walter!" Marge didn't wait for him to knock. "I heard your car in the driveway."

Walter entered and Marge seized his coat and hung it in the hallway closet. He thrust the flowers at her.

"How nice!" she exclaimed. "I'll arrange them for a centerpiece."

He thrust the wine at her with the other hand. It was a bottle of California Chardonnay, still chilled. 

"I didn't know what you were having tonight, so I brought this along." he mumbled, needlessly defensive.

"How wonderful!" cried Marge. "We'll have some now. I already opened some red wine for the dinner table."

Walter followed her into the kitchen. He raised his head slightly to take in the aroma.

"Something smells good in here." he said.

"It's pot roast—my specialty." Marge answered. "I hope that you like it!"

"It's been so long since I've had pot roast." Walter replied longingly.

"Oh, I'm sure of it!" said Marge with sympathy dripping from every word. "There must be a lot of things that you haven't had in a long time."

"—from the kitchen I mean." She added after a pregnant silence. Walter said nothing.

"Why don't you open the wine, Walter, while I cut these beautiful flowers for the table?"

She handed Walter a corkscrew, which he used to open the Chardonnay. He stood staring at the kitchen cabinets with a forlorn look.

"I was just trying to figure out where you keep your goblets." he said.

"Oh, let me get them!" Marge said as she stepped between him and the counter. She opened the cabinet door and looked above.

"They're on the top shelf, do you thing that you could reach them, Walter?" She stepped aside to give him access to the cabinet, although in her heels Marge stood slightly taller than him.

"I don't see them up there." Walter was puzzled, intent on his goblet quest.

Marge stepped closer, so that she was standing sideways to him. She was close—she was sure that he could smell her perfume. She heard him sniff the scent. 

Marge stood on her toes and reached her arm up toward the top shelf, and as she did so her sweater, with her breasts pressing out from underneath it, thrust itself in front of Walter's face, blocking out his vision of all else, except possibly the pearl necklace that Marge was wearing. She stood there for a few seconds, then stepped away as she was sure that she had adequately dangled the bait. 

Walter's eyes had grown larger and his face was a few shades more red than it had been. 

"I just remembered!" she said wistfully. "I moved them to the china cabinet in the dining room." 

********** 

Walter attacked the pot roast like a hungry man who loved pot roast.

"I have to admit that it has been a long time since I've had such good food, Marge." he proclaimed. "You were nice to invite me to dinner."

"Walter," Marge began, "I've enjoyed our times together over the past two months so much. I wanted to do something ... more for you."

"Everything was certainly delicious." he repeated.

"There's more of everything." Marge offered. "...and a few courses that I haven't served yet." 

"I only have room for some more wine." he said. Marge divided the remaining contents of the Burgundy between his goblet and her own.

"Look, Walter!" Marge exclaimed. "We've drained two bottles of wine. No wonder I feel a little tipsy. I thought it was because of you!"

They both laughed.

"I thought that it might have been your aftershave." she explained.

"I'm not wearing any." he informed her. 

"You're not?" Marge exclaimed. "I was sure that you were. Let me check."

Marge rose from her chair. She grasped both of Walter's shoulders and thrust her face close and alongside Walter's. She felt his body stiffen at her sudden intrusion into his space. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 08



Jean squeezed C's hand and he immediately squeezed back. It was a trick their therapist Dr. Frost taught them. In keeping with the spirit of their marriage only Jean could initiate it. C, however, had veto authority. If he didn't squeeze back it meant he wasn't on board. Jean was not to question why but to stop. Dr. Frost described it as a nonverbal safe word whose purpose was to protect C. 

He believed in treating adults as adults and told them they needed to develop their own safe word but felt it was better to say no before than trying to put a stop after they began. Jean's need to dominate brought to the surface her cruel streak. Unfortunately for C, his desire to be treated badly made it all too easy for Jean to go overboard.

The goal of Dr. Frost's therapy was to make C stronger without undermining Jean. It was also to give C time to look before he leaped. At the beginning of therapy C didn't return Jean's squeeze. He trusted her but he didn't trust himself. He let Jean behave in ways he knew would end badly. 

Both C and Jean assured Dr. Frost they wanted to preserve their marriage, not alter its dynamics. Theirs was a female led marriage with a heavy emphasis on female sexual empowerment and male subjugation and demasculinization. 

Jean squeezed C's hand a second time wanting to be certain he wanted this as much as she. He immediately squeezed back. She looked at him and mouthed, "I love you."

He smiled, a boyish grin on his face, replying, "I know you do." He was older and he hoped wiser, but what he was really feeling was time travel. Running into Jose was akin to being transported to the late summer of 1982. He knew Jean was having the same feeling and he couldn't blame her. It had been a wondrous time in their relationship.

He sensed the night was going to be very interesting. He wondered what Jose had in mind; he suspected running into him had been an accident. Jean was always willing to go with the flow, to depart from a timetable or plan. He wondered what else she had in mind for the evening or was he to expect a complete change of plans.

They got to their table and sat down. Jean picked out a bottle of wine and ordered oysters on the half shell for C and roasted red peppers for herself. The waiter left to fill their order. C looked perplexed as to her choice of oysters. She smiled, "Trust me C. You'll really appreciate the oysters later."

He smiled but deep down wished she had ordered his favorite, calamari. He didn't have much faith in their restorative powers. Erections and climaxes came easy for him even in middle age. Penis size and lack of stamina were his problem, not the quantity of his ejaculate. He was a heavy cummer.

Their table was in its own room accessible by a sliding door the waiter opened when he entered and closed when he left. He returned a few minutes later with their bottle of wine. 

The waiter proffered the bottle to C only to have C decline it and nod his head in the direction of Jean. The waiter looked confused so C felt he needed to clear it up and prevent future faux pas. He did it diplomatically, "I'm her date."

He looked at their hands seeing wedding bands but thinking they were either stepping out on their respective mates or more likely business associates and she was trying to win over a client. It didn't make sense but he decided to go with the flow.

He apologized to Jean for his mistake. She smiled and told him, "Happens all the time. I understand your confusion, but our marriage is quite different from most couples."

"Ma'am, how so?"

"I'm the head of the house; he just pays the bills and waits on me."

"Oh."

"I see you're married too. And I can see by your expression you're not sold on the idea. Before you knock it you should try it. I'm good at reading people and my woman's intuition tells me you and my husband are a lot alike."

The waiter turned red in the face. He wanted to tell her off, to assure her he was very much the man of the house, but he didn't choosing instead to pretend he hadn't heard her. He poured her a few ounces, allowed it to breathe, and offered it to her. She inhaled its sweet aroma reminding her of apples, took a sip, and after swallowing told him to go ahead.

He poured her glass then C's glancing at him and thinking to himself how rude she was to compare him with her mouse of a husband. Bitch that she was he had to admit she was smoking hot. If given the chance he told himself he would show her who's boss. 

She studied his face knowing he was upset. She hadn't misread him, but struck a chord. She kept her expression unchanged but inside she was gloating. The truth hurts she thought but if he embraces it, it will set him free. 

He finished pouring and asked if there was anything else she needed. Jean was half tempted to tell him, "A good fuck, the same thing your poor wife needs." She didn't, but instead, looked at his name tag, Carlo, smiled, and said, "Carlo, just the appetizers and soon as I'm starving. By the way, are you Italian?" 

He smiled thinking she was an idiot, "Of course I'm Italian. From Napoli," keeping his voice as sweet as hers.

She dryly replied, "I wouldn't have guessed it." She left it at that leaving it to him to figure out what she was implying. Carlo walked away fuming.

C wondered why Carlo had gotten under Jean's skin. His mistake was common and he had recovered nicely C thought. He wanted to ask, but didn't want to set Jean off. She would tell him when she was ready.

Jean turned her attention to C, raised her glass, and offered a toast, "To my carino, my cornudo of a husband."

He touched his glass to hers. They each took a sip. She looked at him, "Now your turn."

He thought a moment, raised his glass, "To strong women and female led marriage." He thought about adding as a joke, "and to the weak men who worship them," but it would detract from the toast's sincerity. Besides he reminded himself, being married to a strong woman who captained their marriage was not for the weak. 

She touched her glass to his and linked her arm around his. He followed her lead and they took another drink from their glasses. Untangling their forearms she took a longer drink from her glass before putting it down. 

She stared at him. She adored him on so many levels. He remained after all these years her best friend. Only the best of friends would tolerate her antics. He had proven himself countless times. Here she was scheming to have him prove his love, loyalty, submission, and friendship again. What she wanted was a lot to ask of anyone. Their life was perfect in so many ways. She wondered if she was about to upset the apple cart. She knew she was often selfish and rationalized her choice in marrying someone so selfless. She needed a husband who was her opposite. 

He returned her stare thinking to himself how radiant she looked. He considered her still a goddess and wasn't the least surprised she attracted men like the ice cream truck attracts kids. Who wouldn't want a piece of her? He still couldn't believe his luck in meeting her. She understood him completely. He no longer wondered why she stayed with a man completely her opposite. He did believe opposites attract. She too was his best friend. He couldn't imagine a different marriage or life without her. What they had wasn't for everyone, but it worked for them. 

Whenever they had staring contests he was always the one who looked away and tonight was no different. Her stare was intense like her personality. Glancing down he signaled defeat; she was the stronger, dominant one and he the weaker, submissive one. 

She smiled when he broke eye contact chalking up another victory. She owned this man, her cornudo of a husband. She basked in being the envy of her friends. 

She slipped her shoe off and placed her left foot between his legs. He opened his legs and her toes with their bright red nails located the lump in his pants and softly rubbed it. He was she noted hard.

She stared at him pondering how she was going to approach him with her idea. What she wanted was huge and more than a little insane. Completely selfish she thought, but she really wanted it. The question is did he want the same thing and could she handle him saying no. She decided she wouldn't force her desire on him no matter how tempting it was.

She decided on her tactic, a trip down memory lane. Running into Jose had been a stroke of luck. She could tell by C's behavior he wanted Jean to openly cuckold him on their night out. It had been a very long time since he had witnessed firsthand other men having sex with her. They rarely had date nights; she went out while he stayed home. She returned her vagina full

of another man's cum, her body showing the wear and tear of another man's hands and mouth, the bruises and hickeys badges she proudly and defiantly displayed, reveling at the look on his face of her cheating yet again, of another man leaving his mark on her.

With her cuck she craved gentleness, his mouth glued to her sex, slowly and gently bringing her to orgasm. She wanted her body to bear bruises and be visibly sore. She knew it tore her cuck up to see how roughly other men treated her and how they showed her disrespect by treating her as a piece of meat. What hurt even worse is knowing she relished being manhandled. The rougher those men were the better she orgasmed. Knowing she got off on it hurt him in other ways as it was treatment she never wanted from him, but it was also humiliating to know his wife wanted what he couldn't give her. He loved and respected her too much, but instead of it making her more faithful, its effect was opposite.

She traced the outline of his penis with her toes then brought them to his scrotum. She could feel his twin eggs. One hard push and he would need a trip to the E.R. to remove their shattered remains. She wouldn't do it but she knew if she wanted to she could. He wouldn't just let her but insist to the police it was an accident, rough sex that got out of hand. She pressed her toes rather firmly against his sac feeling his balls flatten out watching the pain it produced on his face. She repeated her action again but harder. He didn't say a word, but she knew it hurt. She also knew it turned him from hard to soft. She rationalized her actions telling herself it was to bring him from the brink. It was still too early in the evening for him to climax.

She moved her foot to the edge of his seat. She looked at him as she took another sip from her glass. He looked confused wondering what prompted her to go from hot to icy. It wasn't like her to punish him out of the blue.

She decided to be upfront, "How aroused were you?"

"Very," he answered.

"I could tell. You were about to cum weren't you?"

He nodded yes.

"That's one reason I did it. I don't want you climaxing, no accidents because you can't help yourself. Do you want to know the other reason?"

He softly said, "Yes." His voice and that dreamy look on his face told her he was back in subspace, back to being her little cuckold of a husband.

She moved her foot bringing her toes against his scrotum, but not applying any pressure. She wanted him to know they were there ready to do damage.

"Cuck, I did it because it felt good. There are times I really get off on hurting you. What made it even more appealing was knowing you wouldn't stop me."

Her voice wasn't kind, but tinged with contempt and he responded as only he could; his penis began to harden. She was right; he wouldn't stop her. He couldn't stop her. She wasn't the only one who liked it rough, who preferred to be ravaged rather than made love to. She was right.

"I love you so much cuck, but there are times I feel anger toward you. I shouldn't but I do. I know I'm responsible for my actions, but I blame you. If only you were better and stronger, more of a man, I woudn't be here right now thinking about Jose's cock, but yours. You are the reason I'm such a slut."

Her tongue was a whip and each word a lash flaying open his psyche. "Jean, I'm sorry."

She cut him off, "I know you're sorry. I want you to apologize. If you're sincere you'll get under the table and apologize."

"What about the waiter?"

"What about him? The tablecloth is long. If he asks I'll tell him you went to the car to get something."

"But we're in a public place Jean."

She sounded resigned and fed up, "I knew it. You're not really sorry. You get off on me being a tramp."

He did get off on her being a tramp but he was sorry. A stronger man would have never let her get out of control. A stronger man would have set boundaries. A stronger man would have a big cock to keep her satisfied and faithful. He was the reason she cheated.

He knew action meant everything to Jean. He got under the table. On his knees in the dark he located his wife's treasure box. She opened her legs resting her feet on the edge of his vacant seat. He started at the inside of one thigh and kissed his way to her vulva the returned to his starting point but on the other thigh.

She was silent. When he got to the junction of her legs and squarely kissed her labia using his tongue to part them, she couldn't help but inhale sharply and moan. Her hands reached under the table and held the back of his head.

He slowly explored her with his mouth. It wasn't the first time they played this game where she directed her anger to goad him sexually. He understood some of her anger was real but most of it feigned. He still remembered the first time, her vehemence made him physically sick, how he threw up his meal, dry heaving afterwards. For 12 years he endured those bouts of vomiting and diarrhea loving how she consoled him after emotionally castrating him. He had Dr. Frost to thank for numbing the worst of it making the residual pain manageable.

On his knees he apologized to Jean using his mouth to turn her disappointment to ecstasy. The door to their booth slid open signaling the return of their waiter, Carlo, bringing them their appetizers. Jean tugged on C's hair letting him know they had company. He stopped licking but kept his face against Jean's sex. 

Carlo put the food down and asked, "Where's your husband?"

Jean's voice was shaky; she had been very close to orgasming. She knew her face was flushed. She answered, "He went to the car. He forgot something."

Carlo's brow wrinkled, "He must have left when I went to the kitchen."

She forced herself to calm down to rid herself of Carlo so C could finish her off. "Carlo, why so interested in my husband?"

He lowered his voice, "I thought about what you said. Do we have a moment?"

"Yes," Jean answered her curiosity overriding her impatience.

He kept his voice low. There was no confusion about his nationality as his accent was pure Italian, "I think my marriage would be better if she was the boss, but I don't know how to tell her. Would you help me?"

She smiled. He certainly sounded sincere and she detected real despondency in his voice. She had been right and being right was the best aphrodisiac possible. Her vagina resumed secreting. It was nice having C present while she discussed her passion, female domination, with a neophyte. She no longer thought it odd that it was always the husband who sought her out. Women she learned were too conflicted suppressing their natural superiority to conform to society's expectations.

"I'd be honored to help you Carlo, but I need to warn you. Your wife will change in ways you never imagined. She will have complete freedom and you none. You will not question her decision. You will not make a decision but confer with her. She will make the decision."

She softened her voice so only he could hear, "Her authority will extend to what she does sexually and what she allows you to do. Is this what you want?"

He nodded his head in excitement, "Yes, signora."

"Carlo, before I give you my number. I have a request of my own. Close the door and take it out. I want to see it."

He immediately started trembling. He knew what she was asking. He thought about pretending he didn't understand. He reminded himself he sought her out; she was a sign he couldn't ignore. He and his wife, Paola, had only been married a short time, but where there should have been bliss there was conflict. She constantly told him she loved him, but it was also clear he didn't make her happy, especially in the bedroom. She nevero climaxed.

She had sat up draping her legs over C's shoulders. C's nose was now on her bush. Her thighs pressed against his ears. She knew he had to be hot and his knees ached, but encounters like this didn't happen very often. When they did she noticed it was when she and C were alone. Together they gave out very strong signals others evidently keyed on. It didn't surprise her as she acted very differently with other men. Instead of being the boss she became a follower. The more dominant the man the more submissive she behaved. It was she thought a welcome break, but nothing more than a break. It allowed her to let out her other side, something she had tried unsuccessfully to do with C. Switching roles made them both uncomfortable; their acting seemed too phony. 

With other men it didn't seem contrived. Their domination was real; all she had to do was let them lead. Being completely subordinate to other men was easy because it fed in a roundabout way her need to dominate C. Letting them use her as they pleased she later returned to C where she treated him the way she had been treated.

Carlo briefly froze his eyes locking on Jean's wondering if she was joking or serious. Her face was a mask. He knew she was dead serious. 

He turned away from her closed the door, unzipped his pants, unbuttoned his boxers, and fished it out. He didn't feel pride, but shame. Fully erect his penis was just under 5 and a half inches. Undersized yes, but what really bothered him was its circumference, less than 4 inches. His thumb was thicker. 

He turned to face her. She looked at his penis pointing straight at her. She wanted to laugh but didn't. "Carlo, you and C have a lot in common. You're both small."

He looked crestfallen but his penis reacted opposite of how he felt, getting harder. 

"I bet Paola likes your penis up her ass."

He protested, "Signora, she's my wife."

"You have a lot to learn about women Carlo. All women like their asses played with. I promise you she will love your penis up her ass. While you're fucking her take one hand and pet her. Use the other and play with her breasts. The harder the better."

It wasn't an ugly penis and it was bigger than C's, but its lack of girth made it equally worthless. She didn't touch it as it was Paola's property. Besides if she wanted a small cock C was at her disposal. "Stroke it Carlo. Make yourself cum. Think about your wife and making her happy."

Carlo couldn't believe his ears much less his eyes. He was standing in front of a beautiful woman and at her request masturbating. It was he thought so much easier to masturbate than to actually have intercourse. He hated that disappointed look on her face after they made love. He attempted to make her feel good in other ways but she rebuffed him calling him a pervert. She first insisted on being made love to like a real woman.

He thought about many things wanting to follow Jean's advice and use his penis to take Paola's cherry ass. He imagined a look of rapture on Paola's face as well endowed men used her. He pictured her smiling as he doted on her, preparing her for her lovers, asking no questions, making no protests. What really pushed him over the edge was a strong, virile man making his beloved Paola pregnant.

He announced he was close. He wondered what Jean wanted. The small alpha male in him wanted to cum all over her face, to show her he is the boss, but his bigger beta side, the cuckold in him, told him he dare not. She made the decision for him, grabbing the plate of shelled oysters, delicately seasoned with olive oil and placing it under his penis. She angled the plate knowing the first few contractions would shoot rather than dribble. He started to climax. His knees nearly buckled. Like a pump dispenser he stroked until his balls were empty. Jean marveled at the amount of ejaculate he produced. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 08



"Do you always cum this much?

He was still pumping and squeezing his manhood. "Si," he grunted.

She smiled thinking he and C shared the same trait. She thought it was unfair they weren't blessed with fire hoses capable of putting a woman's fire out. She concentrated on the plate of oysters maneuvering it while Carlo used his penis as though he were frosting a cake. Finished she put the plate down while Carlo tucked his penis back into his pants.

Jean reached into her purse, took out a piece of paper, and wrote her number on it. She handed it to Carlo who promised to call but thought it best if she and Paola met by accident. She said, "Carlo, you're not getting cold feet are you?"

He assured her he wasn't.

"Then you'll have to trust me. If you prefer I'll call her. You need to understand we're not a team. Once she and I get acquainted I'll know if she's receptive to what you want."

He nodded, "Okay." Deep down he hoped he had read his wife right that she wanted to dominate him on every level.

She dismissed him, "Now go."

The instant the door closed Jean scooted her bottom down, took her legs off of C's back and planted the soles of her feet on the edge of his seat and C resumed licking her. She reached under the table and pressed the back of his head to her signaling him to tongue faster. She was through being teased. Now she wanted to cum.

Cum she did hating to suppress her desire to scream. Even though she climaxed wordlessly she still couldn't keep her mouth closed. She called these orgasms her silent screams. C didn't stop his feverish leaking until she literally pried his face away from her pussy. 

She sat there for a few minutes letting the orgasm's intensity fade. She felt relaxed and warm inside.

"C, you can return to your seat."

C crawled out from under the table and sat down. He looked sweaty. She handed him a napkin. He wiped his face.

"Your apology C was very nice and I accept it. Did you?"

"No."

"You could have. I figured what Carlo and I were discussing would trigger it."

He looked confused.

"You didn't hear?"

"Some."

She smiled, "Then you'll really enjoy the surprise he left you." She pointed to the plate and continued, "This should be a walk down memory lane. You and I running into Jose, and at a restaurant of all places. Remember what we did in the parking lot? How you dipped your fingers in me, pulled them out, and licked them clean and how you kept doing it until there was no more Jose in me."

C took a big drink from his glass draining it. His head was reeling. He had eaten lots of cum in his decades with Jean, but having it dribbled all over his oysters like Hollandaise sauce was a first. Even more unsettling was its source; he heard enough to know it came from Carlo, a cuckold in the making. What covered his oysters wasn't the ejaculate of a superior, but a peer. It was akin to eating his own cum. Worse it was cold and detached from its living source or from Jean's warm, inviting body.

It was in a way disgusting to contemplate so why he asked himself was he excited and aroused at the idea of eating those cum covered oysters in Jean's presence. Jean's face was why; her impromptu gift wasn't punishment, but reward. She wasn't belittling him for being a cuckold, but showing support. He might not be her man, but he was her cuck. He embraced her sexuality so it was only fair she embrace his. Jean believed what she and C shared was true love, complete acceptance of each other's virtues and vices, support and encouragement, not condemnation.

Her smile C thought was of happiness, wanting what she offered to him to be interpreted as a token of her affection, understanding, and appreciation. He picked up an oyster and put the meat drizzled with Carlo's ejaculate into his mouth. It was he thought delicious evoking recent and not so recent memories. He briefly chewed before swallowing it and immediately picking up another.

Jean's face continued to glow, but with lust. What he was doing she thought was a huge turn on. She observed, "It's good isn't it?"

He nodded yes.

She took her right foot and pressed it against his erection. Her discussion could wait until another time. She decided to go with the flow remembering how the best sex, like the best parties, was spontaneous void of a script.

He opened his legs as she began to massage his erection with her toes. She knew he wouldn't last long. He continued to eat as she rubbed him. As he consumed the last one she kneaded him harder. His hands gripped the edge of the table as he began climaxing. She could feel his penis contract each time he released more ejaculate. What they were doing was so sexy she thought. She decided he would need to get under the table again and quench her flame.

She was still massaging C's penis with her toes draining it completely of semen when the door opened. Both she and C jerked in surprise. It was Carlo.

He looked at Jean and said, "Jose wants to see you," followed by a pause before finishing his sentence, "Now."

Jean gave C's rapidly shrinking penis a final squeeze, put her shoes back on, slid out of the booth and without a backward glance left following Carlo. C stared at the back of her dress. Its synthetic material clung to her body, accentuating her meaty, muscular buttocks. The dress was dry save for the long wet spot separating her cheeks. Jean hoped people noticed. 

Jean was quickly out of sight. Even though the door remained open it didn't provide much of a view as the booth they were in was down a hall off of the main seating area. 

C was alone his imagination running amok as he pictured Jean walking through the restaurant the patrons nudging each other as she walked past seeing the wet spot as they studied her perfect ass.

His mouth tasted of oysters and cum. He wondered why cum left such a gummy taste in one's mouth; it quickly broke down but its presence lingered. His orgasm had been excellent, but all he was now left with was a quickly cooling and very large wet spot in his underwear. He knew it would soak through into his pants and everyone would notice. He had been in this situation before. He would block them from his mind and pretend no one was there.

He wondered how long he would be kept waiting. He wasn't hungry. He poured what was left of the wine into his glass and drank it in one long gulp. The sticky taste of Carlo's cum remained.

He looked at the artichoke dip wondering if he should eat it, let it be, or have Carlo take it back to the kitchen. He decided to eat it concluding Carlo couldn't take it back and it would go to waste sitting there. Besides he told himself he liked artichoke dip. He ate in silence picturing Jose fucking Jean. 

Carlo appeared at the door with a tray in his hand. He placed a cup of fresh cappuccino before C.

"Sir, did you enjoy the oysters?"

C answered smiling as he spoke to the source of their topping, "Yes, they were delicious and a big surprise."

"I'm glad you enjoyed them sir. The sauce was your beautiful wife's idea."

C took a sip of the cappuccino, "It's good."

Carlo said, "Your wife thought you would welcome it. She wanted it to be much better than the last time you had coffee when she was with Jose. She told me to tell you to have happy thoughts."

C looked Carlo in the eye, "I will. If you see her please thank her for me."

Carlo envied C. He couldn't wait until his lovely Paola took a lover and returned to him contented and full of his cum. He would sit and dream of the two of them and masturbate again and again. Paola's love for him would grow as did her level of sexual satisfaction. She would thank him for the gift of sexual bliss and appreciate his willingness to concede defeat, to admit he was a clumsy underequipped lover, and to let others more capable do the job.

He thought C seemed so at peace. He had shared so little of his desires with Paola. He couldn't wait to tell her how aroused he got when she bossed him around or scolded him for something he had no control over. He wanted others to tame his shrew. 

He didn't ask if C wanted to order dinner as he knew Jean would want him to wait. He took the empty plate, exited the room, and closed the door behind him to give C the solitude he deserved.



Chance Encounter Ch. 08



"I was sure that you were wearing some." She said as she retook her chair. She started giggling. "I'm wearing some perfume, could you tell, Walter?"

Walter nodded his head quickly. "Yes!" he gasped.

"I'm tipsy from the wine." Marge giggled seductively. "I feel as vulnerable as a schoolgirl."

She leaned into Walter and whispered, "You wouldn't take advantage of me, would you?"

"No, Marge, don't worry." was his nervous reply.

"No, I should think not! At my age a woman doesn't have to worry about that any more." she feigned self-pity.

"Nonsense, Marge! I think of you as being very attractive." declared Walter.

Marge scooted her chair closer to Walter's. Their knees touched and Marge noted that he didn't pull away.

"Do you think so?" she asked eagerly. "You wouldn't just say that, would you?" She drove her eyes right through his.

Walter shook his head 'no'. Marge back away slightly and waited silently for Walter to speak.

"Marge, I took and a chance and bought some tickets for us. I hope that you can go." 

Marge waited patiently for Walter to finish.

"It's for the performance of Handel's "Messiah" at the University of Michigan down in Ann Arbor. It will be on the first Saturday in December."

"That sounds wonderful, Walter!" Marge exclaimed.

Walter's face took on a satisfied look.

"But there's just one problem." Marge put on a frown.

"What?" Walter was suddenly deflated.

"It would be such a long drive in the winter—two hours one way—and it would be so expensive for two hotel rooms." Marge pointed out. 

"I hadn't thought of that." Walter said, but Marge knew that he must have.

"Walter, at our age lost opportunities are more expensive than when we were younger."

She let her point hit home and placed his hand gently over his. Walter was silent, but Marge could tell that his mind was stepping nicely into line. He picked up his half-full cup of wine and drained it. Marge leaned forward. She whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe as she spoke.

"I made some apple pie for dessert. We can have some later."

She gently clasped his hand and led him upstairs. Walter wore a nervous smile. Soon he would be wearing nothing else.

Poor Walter never stood a chance, but he may not have wanted one in the first place.

********************** 

The holidays passed quietly. Paul was happy to have his daughter and son home from school for a few weeks. It gave him a chance to catch up with them. He didn't mention his romances with Glenda and Marge. Both were in the past. It would be pointless to upset them. 

Marge and Walter were still an item. She didn't talk a lot about it, but Paul noticed her stepping lightly about the office as she did her filing. She seemed happy. Paul was glad that she was.

Ted Wilson told Paul that Glenda had taken a new job at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. She was the Appointments Secretary for the General Counsel. She handled the schedule and appointments of that executive. She reported to The Counsel's Administrative Assistant. She was taking Paralegal Training at night, hoping to step into the higher level when the incumbent retired in September. Paul was happy for her. 

The lawsuit involving the Peoria Project was progressing slowly. The lawyers had been in court countless times. Not a single word had been argued in favor or against the plant. The issue was whether the case belonged in State or Federal Court. Hopkins had brought the suit in Federal Court, the tribunal of choice of activists. Wilton's Agency, of course, preferred its own brand of judge. As the case ping-ponged between courts, Paul gave up on ever building a solvents plant in that city. When he thought of the waste, it angered him, but he had other work to do. 

January gave way to February. Business took Paul to Latin America and then to Texas. It was nice to have a respite from the Michigan winter. He had important business in Corpus Christi and Texas City. From there, he took a flight to Georgia to interview a candidate for the Plant Engineer position at the Marietta Plant. The whole trip consumed two weeks and he was glad to be heading home. He found himself in Hartsfield Airport awaiting his flight back home. 

He was ambling down the concourse when he heard his name being paged. He wasn't expecting to meet anyone that day. He arrived at an information desk and the attendant handed him a message: "Meet Leonard Raines in the Red Carpet Lounge".

Paul knew Raines. Usually, they were adversaries. Leonard Raines was Executive Director of Concerned Scientists of America (CSA). The two men seldom agreed on anything, but they respected one another. Raines had impeccable credentials, including a PhD in microbiology. Paul knew him to be very intelligent and sincere in his views. If Paul saw a shortcoming, it was Raines' inability to effectively control his herd of zealots. He had heard that Raines hadn't sought out the administrative job. His reputation had landed him there. For organizations like his, the power of name recognition and prestige were equally as important as science.

Raines was about Paul's age. He had a slender build and was shorter than average. His hair was wavy and salt and pepper-colored. His beard matched. He was a quiet sort of fellow, not given to idle chat or bluster. In another time and place Paul and Leonard may have become friends.

They had clashed many times. Paul always noted that Raines never went personal when he skirmished. Paul appreciated that. Many of Raines' people did not have the same discipline. Arthur Hopkins was a good example. As always, with money flowing into a controversy, the stakes increased along with passions. Grants from foundations and government were the fuel that powered CSA's engine. The quest for profit and competitive advantages drove Dunn's. Both men knew that there was always plenty of margin for error on both sides of any argument. That was their private face. In public they had to bare their teeth, or the press would sense surrender.

Paul arrived at the lounge. He slid his keycard into the security door and punched in his PIN. He wished that the airliners were guarded as closely as the private VIP bars in the nation's airports. 

"Go ahead and blow us out of the sky—just stay away from our booze." He said to himself to no one in particular. Paul knew he was tired. He always became sarcastic when he was worn out.

He sauntered up to the bar and got a Scotch. He looked around and finally found Leonard Raines sitting at a table in the corner, almost unnoticed. He strode over to him. 

"Hello, Leonard!" he called out. "It's good to see you."

Paul startled Raines, who had been lost in his thoughts. 

"Hello, Paul. I'm glad that you got my page." Both men extended their hands and shook them as they got close enough. "I was trying to reach you at your office. They told me that you were here in Atlanta. I took the liberty." Raines explained.

"I've got ninety minutes before boarding." Paul told him, taking a pull on his Scotch.

"They cancelled my flight to New York. I've got two hours." Raines one-upped him.

"We haven't seen one another in more than a year." Raines said.

Paul nodded. He sensed that Raines had something to say, but was having a hard time getting started. Paul was very good at cutting to the chase.

"What's up, Leonard?" Paul demanded.

"It's this suit over that plant proposal in Peoria, Illinois." Raines started. "I just wanted to let you know that we never really wanted it."

Paul absorbed Raines' statement and tried to analyze it. His first reaction was disbelief. He stifled it. Experience of the past year had warned him that anything was possible.

"You'll have to explain this to me, Leonard. I'm sure that you remember that you are the plaintiffs and we're the defendants."

"It's Hopkins!" Raines began. "He did this on his own without our approval. It was done before we even knew it existed. He arranged it with Northwestern Law School without our knowledge. By the time we found out about it, it was too late."

Raines' revelation reminded him of the long-destroyed compromising photos of Hopkins and Judson. Paul envisioned how Raines' story could have happened. He decided to keep that to himself. 

"What do you mean 'too late'? Why don't you pull the plug on him?" Paul queried.

Raines looked away. Paul could see that he was groping for a way to answer.

"There is a lot of money being wasted on this lawsuit." Paul pressed harder. "That plant should be up and running now. Your case has no merit. The lawyers have been in court a dozen times, and they haven't even argued it yet."

Paul paused, waiting for an answer from Raines. Receiving none, he continued.

"There's a construction company owned by a guy named Harry Carmichael that was nearly ruined because they were slated to build that plant. They turned down three other jobs, and then got left high and dry. Think of the people down there that should have jobs. On top of all that, Dunn should be down there producing, taking over the market, instead of wasting its money on these lawyers."

Paul waited again for his answer, and still didn't receive it.

"Leonard, I hope you don't mind some free advice, but I would have to say that your organization is out of control." Paul issued his final words.

Raines turned his gaze from the window and looked at Paul.

"I know." He said, almost in a whisper.

"Is that what you paged me for?" asked Paul, rising from his chair. "I've got a plane to catch."

"Wait, don't go." pleaded Raines. "You've got to understand about Hopkins. We both know that he's a quack, but he's a quack with a big following. A lot of people think that he walks on water. Those people are the ones who make contributions to our organization; they write their congressmen to support us with grants. When I confronted Hopkins about this, he threatened to split away from us—go public—take his support with him. He's got us over a barrel."

"So this is really a PR battle!" Paul replied. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought that you might have a solution." Raines suggested.

"Like what?" Paul demanded. "Do you want us to give up the suit?"

Raines nodded yes. "We could have a secret arrangement to accommodate you another time." 

"Not a chance!" Paul countered.

"We really don't want this." Raines said. "You have to understand—our hands are tied."

Paul thought for a minute. Raines' admissions infuriated him. Paul fought to control his anger. If there was a chance that the Peoria problem could be resolved, he didn't want to lose it.

"There is something, Leonard." Paul said. Raines leaned forward intently.

"Let me tell you that I am going to divulge this because I've been able to trust you in the past." Paul warned. "If you use this against me, it won't go down easy." 

"I've always been straight with you, Paul." Raines assured him.

"It's just this." Paul began. "There's a plant proposal of ours in Corpus Christi that I know that you've filed a brief against."

"I know of it. We filed, but never thought that our suit had much chance." Raines interjected.

"We're not going through with it. We already have a plant in Texas City. We'll expand that plant and put the production in there. It will be announced next week. You must promise to lay off the Texas City expansion. You can take credit for foiling the Corpus Christi project. Then, you can order the suit in Peoria dropped. If Hopkins and his followers howl, you can say that you flogged Dunn Chemicals already, just used a different whip. They won't like it, but they'll swallow it."

Raines eyes lit up. Paul knew that he had carried the ball into the end zone.

"That just might work!" Raines exclaimed.

"You have to make it work!" Paul commanded. "In the meantime, I'll set things up at our office. I'll call you in a day or two to coordinate. It will be good for everyone. You'll have Hopkins under control, the suit will go away, and we'll have cover for backing out of Corpus Christi." 

They clinked their half empty glasses together to seal the agreement.

And so, while two men were waiting for a plane in Atlanta, they resolved the lawsuit over the proposed Peoria Plant. They accomplished what an army of lawyers could not in months of wrangling and maneuver. Their budget was the cost of two drinks. They didn't need blackmail, fraud or bribery. It was actually very easy.

************** 

TO BE CONTINUED...



Chance Encounter Ch. 09



Chapter 9 Endings and Beginnings (Part II)

It was the middle of March. Paul found himself seated on an airliner next to Ted Wilson on their way to Chicago. They had two items on their agenda that day. First, was the signing of the dismissal agreement on the Peoria lawsuit. It had gone as planned between Paul and Leonard Raines five weeks before. A small flap developed when the plaintiff's side asked for a 'hold harmless' clause. It had been due to Paul's mention of Harry Carmichael's company's losses on account of the suit. For that reason Harry would be there to sign off, too. Ted had initially been suspicious, but decided in the end to accept the concession. It was worth it to put the episode at an end. Paul didn't mind Ted's circumspection. It was his job.

The second piece of business was to sign a new contract with Harry Carmichael's company for the Peoria construction.

As the plane bumped across the thermal updrafts over Lake Michigan, Paul thought about all those who should have been asked to sign the 'hold harmless' agreement. He thought of Glenda and her job, of his lost stock options. Of course Audrey had been hurt the worst. Even Craig Morehead was a victim in a sense. Most of those touched had survived. All had been scarred.

"Who are you going to put in charge of the project, now that it's back on?" Ted interrupted him. 

"Jim Spencer." Paul answered. "He's in Europe right now on the Engineering Standards Project. When he comes back, I'll tell him to start handing that off to Harlow, piece by piece. After the plant is complete, I'm going to try to have him installed as Plant Manager. It would be just the right job for him at this stage of his career. It will give him a chance to get away from HQ for a few years and stand on his own two feet."

Ted nodded in approval. "I don't know who you're going to get to replace him."

"I thought that I would start to bring Harlow along. He's a good engineer, but he needs to work on his leadership skills. I'm hoping to bring him in closer and give him some tutoring." The conversation energized Paul. It was one of the parts of his job that he liked.

"I don't want to rain on your parade." Ted went on. "Your name came in front of the Ethics Committee again last week."

"Oh, no!" cried Paul. He looked around the plane. He knew that the other passengers must have heard him over the sound of the jet engines. He lowered his voice. "What about this time?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you, so don't quote me. It has something to do with photographs you received of Hopkins and Judson. They tabled it for now. They'll decide later whether to take it up."

Paul told Ted the story of the photographs of Hopkins and Judson in their homosexual embrace. 

"I shredded them!" Paul declared. "How can that be unethical?"

"They'll probably say that you should have reported it. Don't tell me where you got the photos. Then I'll have to tell them if they ask me." Ted advised. "I can tell you that Allison Greene is the one pushing it."

Paul had already guessed that, but kept silent on his observation of Allison's wanderings between Richardson's and her hotel rooms. 

"This Ethics Committee is getting to be a real Gestapo." Paul declared.

"I would have to say that's true." Ted agreed as the plane bumped down on the runway.

The agreement signing was a somber affair. The lawyers took on the persona of bureaucrats, signing and notarizing. Hopkins was present; Judson wasn't. He had his usual dour expression painted on his face beneath his beard. 

Larry Wilton showed up, flanked by an honor guard of attorneys. It irked Paul that he failed to ask about Audrey. Paul told him anyway. Wilton told him that Craig Morehead's case had cooled off. The court psychologist had declared him unfit for trial. Nothing had been done to extradite Grafton. Without Morehead's cooperation, it would never happen. Even if Morehead were so disposed, he was now mentally incompetent to testify credibly. 

Paul made a note to ask Ted to write to the DA in Springfield to make sure that Morehead didn't make bail. He thought that it was essential for Audrey's safety. Normally, he would have asked Wilton to attend to it, but he didn't trust him to do so. 

Harry Carmichael, the only one without a lawyer to guard him, was the last to sign. Everyone shook hands and prepared to leave.

"Paul, wait a minute." Hopkins called out as everyone was leaving the room. 

Paul didn't really want to meet with Hopkins, but couldn't find a way to avoid it. The two kept silent until all had left the room.

"Well, you won." Hopkins said.

"Are you saying that I won because you didn't?" Paul challenged him.

"I guess so." he answered.

"I have higher standards than that, Arthur." Paul declared. "No one won. It cost everyone involved. For some, it cost a lot."

"Your company can afford it. It was pocket change." Hopkins countered.

"Is that all you can see, Arthur?" Paul snarled. "What about a young woman who was raped by one of your flunkies. How about people with no jobs? How about Glenda?"

"What about Glenda?" Hopkins asked flippantly. "She's got a new job—better than her old one. She should thank me!"

"You chased her out the job that was her life. You made her a prisoner in her own home. You spied on us at the lake. I wouldn't say that she's better off." 

"What about you, Paul? I heard you lost some big money. Of course, you lost your little romance with Glenda." Hopkins sneered. 

"Did you keep me in here just to rub it in, Arthur? If you did, I think that we're finished." Paul was angry, struggling to stay in control of himself. "I should have published those pictures of you. It would have served you right."

"You really did shred them. I never believed you." Hopkins said. "You're a boy scout at heart, Paul. That's why we could never be friends."

"Is that all, Arthur? I'm losing interest." retorted Paul.

"No, in fact it isn't." Hopkins said, turning serious. "I wanted to tell you something. You'll be the first to know."

"I'm listening." Paul sighed.

"None of this matters to me anymore, Paul." Hopkins turned melancholy. "I had a test last week and found out ... I have AIDS. I never even knew I had the virus. I don't even know where I got it."

"Does Judson know?" Paul asked.

Hopkins shook his head.

"I hope you enjoy telling him." Paul taunted him.

Before he left, Paul had one more thing to say to his old enemy. He knew that he should have kept it to himself, but he let it out anyway.

"Arthur, I should say that I'm sorry for you—but I just can't."

Paul turned and left, leaving the downcast Hopkins in the room. 

************* 

April was surrendering to May. Paul looked forward to the warm weather. He had neglected his golf game the prior year. He was determined not to let that happen again. His handicap had ballooned to twelve. He had a full plate at work. He was without the aid of Jim Spencer who was spending more time in Peoria. Bert Loehman had retired. He hadn't found a suitable replacement. He was thinking that a reorganization might be the right way to go. Nothing had come of the Ethics Committee warning given him by Ted Wilson a few months ago. He stopped worrying about it.

Harry Carmichael had requested a meeting with Paul to go over a phase of the construction plan. Jim Spencer had briefed Paul already. Harry wanted to step up the pace, but he needed overtime money and wanted Paul to approve an add-on to the contact. Normally, Paul would rely on Spencer to make the call, but it was his first time so Paul decided to sit in. He asked them to meet him in Chicago. He would lay over for a night on his return from his East Coast trip. He had Marge set it up. Paul and Jim would drive up the next morning.

Paul landed at O'Hare at three in the afternoon on the appointed day. He was beat. The New Jersey facilities were complex and there were many issues stemming from a recent operational audit. One plant engineer was retiring in November and another was on shaky ground. He was thinking that he should have saved Spencer for one of those jobs. There was a lot to do. He thought that he would change into some old clothes and just eat in the room and watch the baseball game on the television. 

The taxi dropped Paul off at the Drake. A bellman ran up to take his bags, but Paul turned him down.

"I've got them." he told him. 

The Drake was expensive, but Paul thought that it was worth it. It was an easy cab ride to the airport, and they had small meeting rooms available to guests. It would do fine.

"You have a message, Sir!" the woman tending the desk handed his an envelope. Paul decided to open it when he got to his room. He refused the bellman again and made his way to his room.

The contents of the envelope were a mystery. Paul had his cell phone with him. Marge could have reached him with anything important. After he set his bags down, he tore the envelope open. There was a note inside it, and a ticket to the Cubs game later that evening. Paul read the note. It was typewritten, which struck Paul as odd.

"I thought that you would like to see a game. I'll meet you there.

Harry

Going to the game ran counter to Paul's original plan, but it was a welcome change. The Cubs were playing the Dodgers. The game was at seven. Paul had plenty of time to shower and get a cab to Wrigley Field. While he was showering, he thought that he would razz Harry about spending money for ball games and then asking for overrun money on the same trip. 

Paul arrived at the Wrigley Field at six-thirty. 

"This world is in a sorry state when we have night games at Wrigley." He joked to the usher as he showed him to his seat. They both laughed. Paul knew that the older man would understand the joke, so he didn't mind dating himself. 

Harry had gone all-out and bought box seats on the third-base side. It was the best side if there were close plays at the plate. Paul assumed that Jim Spencer and Harry would show up together, but so far they hadn't. Paul settled in and waited for the hot dog and beer vendors to come by. 

Infield practice was finished; the players lined up at the dugouts for the national anthem. Paul stood as it played over the loud speaker. He was wondering where Carmichael and Spencer were. He wasn't worried. With or without them, he was looking forward to the game. He was hungry. Over his left shoulder he heard the vendor barking.

"Hot Daawgs HERE! Get your hot dogs here!" 

Paul glanced over to see if he could get his attention, and hopefully spy a beer hawker, too. As his head was turned he felt the presence of a body taking the seat in his box just to the right of him. 

"It must be Harry." Paul thought. He swung his head around to say hello. 

As the words started to escape his mouth, he held them back. What he saw stunned him. For a few seconds he didn't know what to say, and the person seated next to him wasn't speaking either. Paul gathered himself. He could only blurt out what his mind told him.

"I gave up on ever seeing you again." he said.

"I've missed you." answered Glenda. "Are you glad that I'm here?"

It was a big question that Glenda asked. He had a right to ask so many questions of his own, and receive satisfactory answers to them all.

"Yes!" Paul responded. He paused and thought for a few moments. Glenda looked at him with searching eyes. "Yes, I am glad to see you." He leaned over toward her seated next to him and threw his right arm around her shoulder. They relaxed into one another as though they had been apart for hours, not months. They leaned back comfortably as the starting pitcher finished his warm-ups.

"Actually," she began "I came to see you because you know so much about baseball. I've become a big fan."

"How's that?" Paul asked. He sensed one her ploys on its way and decided to play along.

"It's the 'Infield Fly Rule'." Glenda explained. "I just don't get it."

"When there are less than two outs," Paul explained, "with runners on first or ...."

Glenda stopped him by reaching her left hand over his shoulder and holding Paul's head still with her right hand. She leaned over and her tongue danced in his earlobe.

"I'm advancing at my own risk." She whispered into his ear.

A broad smile grew across Paul's face. Glenda eased back into her seat, suppressing a grin. Her ploy had been successful. Paul thought fast for an answer. 

"A young man, hearing those words that you just whispered in my wet ear, would pick you up and carry you out of the ballpark." Paul informed her. "He'd drag you back to his hotel room and have his way with you until the sun came up." 

"That sounds interesting!" Glenda purred. 

"Perhaps," Paul agreed, "but I'm an older man and ..."

"Older and more experienced!" Glenda corrected him.

"An older man likes to let the wine age a bit, if you know what I mean." Paul concluded. 

"You're saying that you want to stay and watch the game. It's alright." Glenda laughed at him.

"Let's have a beer." Paul suggested.

As the inning ended and they drank their beer Glenda turned serious.

"I have a lot to say to you. There are a lot of things I have to explain." Glenda said.

"Later!" Paul commanded. "Right now I just want to relax and enjoy being with you."

"Alright." Glenda answered and pushed up closer to him. She stroked his thigh a few times and then let her hand rest halfway between his knee and hip.

"So Harry Carmichael decided to play 'Matchmaker'. When did he give you the ticket?" Paul queried.

"It wasn't Harry." She answered. "It was Marge Bates. She set the whole thing up."

********** 

"I brought my car." Glenda announced as they were filing out of the stadium after the game. "I have a change of clothes so that I can go to work from the hotel."

Glenda drove. There was a line waiting to clear the parking lot. As they sat in traffic Glenda was eager to tell Paul about her job at the MERC. 

"It's a lot faster pace than I had been used to, but the support is so much greater. It's certainly a lot more exciting." she told him. It was the first time that she had worked under a female executive, but she said that there was little difference.

"I'm making more money, but it's more expensive to work inside the loop. They even paid out some money to buy my pension credits." she went on.

"How are your Paralegal Courses going?" Paul asked. He immediately knew he had given himself away. It was an accidental slip.

"It was you!" she gasped. "Shirley Kramer would never tell me who had set me up with her, but I always had a feeling that it was you. How else would you know about the paralegal courses?"

"Guilty as charged!" Paul confessed. "A guy named Ted Wilson—whom you're sure to meet one day soon—helped too."

Paul searched Glenda's face for signs of unhappiness. He knew that she valued her independence. 

"Glenda," he continued, "all that I did was to arrange some circumstances so that you would have the chance to win the job. That's all I could ever do. You won the job yourself."

"I know, Paul." She agreed. "Thank you. You saved my sanity. I had to escape from Judson."

"I know." Paul said. "That's what I figured when the photos showed up."

"Marge Bates told me that you had her shred them." Glenda acknowledged. "Thank goodness! I was so angry and desperate. I thought that I had lost the job at MERC because there was a delay. I learned later that they were settling the pension money. After I sent them, I was ashamed, but it was too late."

"It's over now." Paul said.

Paul told Glenda about the resolution of the Peoria case. He left out the part about Hopkins having AIDS.

By that time, they arrived at the hotel. Glenda turned her car over to the valet attendant and grabbed her garment bag and a small suitcase from the trunk. Soon they were in Paul's room at the Drake. It was almost eleven o'clock. 

********** 

They didn't order drinks from room service. They didn't fumble with the controls for piped-in romantic music. Glenda brought a negligee, but left it in her suitcase. They didn't embrace, and then romantically undress each other, either.

Paul set down Glenda's suitcase, and hung her garment bag in the closet. Maid service had turned down the bed. Glenda matter-of-factly marched to the head of king-sized bed and took the chocolates from the pillows and set them aside. She pulled the covers the rest of the way off. When she was finished Paul was standing at the corner of it waiting for her. 

She gave him a glance and kicked off her shoes. Paul did the same. The matched each other with the buttons of their shirts. Paul's slacks and Glenda's jeans soon followed.

Soon they were both clad only in their underwear. Glenda reached behind and unsnapped her bra. She unceremoniously threw it aside. She was nude, save her panties. She started breathing heavily. 

"Remember these?" she asked, alluding to her small breasts and to a day many years in the past.

"I remember everything!" Paul responded.

They looked at one another for long seconds. Paul yanked down his shorts. He was nude. Glenda looked at his erect penis pointing at her. She noticed droplets of fluid leaking from the tip and falling to the floor.

"I can't wait to get in bed with you!" Glenda gasped as she slid her panties to the floor and stepped out of them.

They stepped forward and met, clutching each other tightly. Paul bent down to engulf her mouth with his own. Each tongue lashed the other. He dropped his hands to her buttocks to clutch them, and then ran his hands the length of her slender back, digging his fingers into every muscle in his path.

Glenda reached down to capture his manhood in her small, warm hand, which brought a groan of pleasure from him.

Paul reached down grasp her bottom again. This time he lifted her. Glenda threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Paul carried her to the empty bed and set her down on it. Glenda scooted to the middle, lay on her back, reaching out to grab his arms and pull him down. 

Paul lowered himself down to her. He fastened his lips around a nipple and sucked hard on it. She wrapped her arms around his head and pressed him down on her breast. Paul slid his finger between her vaginal lips and touched the wet softness there. Glenda responded by thrusting her hips upward to force his fingers deeper into her. She was hot and panting. Paul felt her heating hotter by the second. Involuntary groans of passion issued from her throat.

Glenda released Paul's head and used all her strength to pull him atop her. She spread her legs and grabbed the cheeks of his buttocks to guide him in. Paul complied. He thrust in deeply, sliding through the moistened chamber. He withdrew and thrust again, reveling in Glenda's moans of pleasure.

"I've been without you too long." He sighed.

His utterance was Glenda's cue to take over the pace. She lifted her legs high in the air, spread to the limit and thrust them around Paul's torso. She pounded her hips up against his, sliding him through her body. Paul allowed the excitement of the act to overtake him. His pleasure mounted with Glenda's every thrust. Finally, he summoned his strength to raise himself up on his arms and withdrew himself from her.

"It's been a long time for me." He told her honestly. "At this pace I won't last very long."

"I don't care!" she cried. "Don't hold back; just come when you're ready."

He slid back inside her. Glenda thrust at him with even more abandon. She began a slow crescendo of pleasured gasps with each new thrust. Paul's attention turned from his own pleasure to observing Glenda's ascent. He surprised himself by holding off his climax longer than he had thought possible. Glenda kept up the pace. Paul responded by matching her. Glenda was climbing higher and higher.




Chance Encounter Ch. 09



C sat all alone. He took a sip of his cappuccino thinking it was the best he ever tasted. He immediately wondered if its delicious taste was because of its link to their unique marriage and the very enjoyable evening he was having with his queen, Jean. 

He muttered aloud, "For a cuckold, it doesn't get any better than this." 

Each time he moved, no matter how slight, the cold, wet cum in his underwear came into contact with his skin reminding him of the pleasure Jean brought him with her toes. He had an admitted foot fetish which Jean took frequent advantage of. As badly as he ached to have his manhood inside her vagina, to feel the soft, wet warmth of her love canal, to thrust in and out of its smooth walls as he stared at Jean, to possess her, her toes massaging his penis to orgasm was a nice consolation prize.

He doubted other men experienced the pleasure of her toes on their cocks. He was certain it was something only he and she shared. Their shared perversions made being her cuckold not only attractive but tolerable. When she closed one door she opened another. He was never totally denied or unwanted. He took great comfort in knowing he and she did things to each other sexually that she didn't do with other men. He knew it wasn't because she would tell them no, but because they had no interest in doing them.  

He took another sip and mused about how much better the experience was at 50 than as a young man of 19. That first time with Jose had been sexually powerful, but gut wrenching. He still remembered the cold coffee, wanting a fresh cup after he finished it, and getting none. The other waiters steered clear of his table while Jose escorted Jean through the kitchen and to the storage room where he took possession of her body, fucking her through several toe curling orgasms. Their coupling ended when he emptied his cream filled balls into her. She had been working on mastering her vaginal muscles and as he softened she worked those muscles squeezing from him every last drop of his manjuice.

He moved his leg and felt the cold, wet, sticky reminder of his climax. While the cappuccino was warm and flavorful some things he thought never changed. Being alone. Jean's toes bringing him to orgasm. Feeling inadequate. Ashamed of his passivity. Embarrassed he wanted other men to fuck her. Wanting to be the other man, but knowing he didn't measure up. 

His climax courtesy of Jean's toes had been a ten, but it also served to remind him of what another man's cock was enjoying, the feel of Jean's pussy as he pushed in and pulled out. He imagined Jean's pelvis rolling up to meet Jose's thrust and rolling back down as he pulled out. From past experience he knew Jean was having a very good time, her pleasure intensified knowing C knew.

His penis began to twitch and grow as he thought of Jose and Jean having sex. He found himself revisiting that day 31 years ago.

They were in Jean's house. She was on the floor on her back and he was on top of her. She was wearing a peasant dress which was now bunched up at her waist. Her legs weren't wrapped around his waist, but her inner thighs were pressed against his hips. He was on top of her fully dressed. They were making out and rubbing their genitals against the other's when he heard Jean's mother.

He jumped off of her but was too late. Jean's mother said nothing. He expected her to be furious seeing her daughter and her boyfriend dry humping, but she was just the opposite. She smiled at their embarrassment. He looked at Jean who was beet red; whether it was from lust or being caught he didn't know. What he did know was his face felt just as ruddy. 

Jean's mom spoke, "When you two lovebirds are through, would you run an errand for me?" 

Jean and he answered in unison, "Yes." 

Her mom left the room without telling them what she needed and she closed the door behind her. It was as though she was telling he and Jean to pick up where they left off.

They of course didn't. He said, "That was strange. I thought she would be furious." 

Jean told him, "My mom knows how much I love you. I've been talking to her a lot about you and I. She knows how badly I want to marry you. She likes you a lot and thinks you're good for me. She wants us to wait, but says we're adults and can make our own decisions."

They kissed almost chastely before leaving the room. Jean's mom gave them some money and told them to have lunch before doing her errands. 

Jean said she would drive. They got in her car. She drove them to the same Mexican restaurant where she had gotten him to confess his arousal at her being with other men. She assured him it was more common than he thought. He didn't really think of himself as someone with submissive, cuckold desires, but rather as someone who enjoyed sharing his girlfriend sexually. Jean knew his view of himself was a delusion, a coping mechanism. Theirs was not a hot wife/girlfriend relationship and it certainly wasn't an open one. He had even admitted to her his feelings of inadequacy based on his penis being unable to fulfill her via sexual intercourse and rationalized it as grounds for her to have sex with another man, Leo, she was dating. As her sexual relationship with Leo intensified so too did his submissive, cuckold desires. They bubbled to the surface and rather than driving Jean away they made her love him more. 

He wasn't the only one in denial. Jean was even more tormented because what she was doing sexually and where she wanted to take their relationship went against what she had been raised to believe. Good girls waited. If they didn't wait they married the boy they did it with. Sex was only with someone you loved and only occurred in a committed marriage. Men were the boss. Boyfriends and husbands made the decisions. 

She didn't like men being the boss in a relationship. She enjoyed being in charge and felt at ease being in control. She wanted to make the decisions. By providence she found in C a man who wanted a woman like her. Her desire to dominate C became impossible to suppress and difficult to not take to excess after she experienced sex with the other man she was dating while dating C. While the sexual intercourse with the other man was pure rapture she wasn't in love with him. She loved C and feared what she had done would drive him away and into the arms of another woman. Discovering it had the opposite effect she found if she played to his weakness she would have him forever. To be happy and in a relationship that worked she concluded he needed a woman like her and she needed a man like him.

She hadn't planned on pushing his buttons when they left the house. He was very supportive of her dating Leo and having sex with him. He was almost too eager to please her with his mouth after Leo came in her. Something about his attitude bugged her. He behaved like he was in control. She wanted it clear she was the one in charge and she was dating Leo for her enjoyment, not her boyfriend's. She was thrilled he got off to it sexually, but he also needed to remember she was no puppet. 

They entered the restaurant. The cashier told them to sit where they wanted so they chose a booth sitting across from each other. He ordered coffee and she tea. They looked at the menus, one hand on the menu, the other holding the other's hand. 

They looked like every young couple you see on a date, but things quickly heated up. Jean surprised him. He was reading the menu but his mind was drifting to imagined scenes of Leo fucking Jean. Those thoughts turned him on, but even more arousing was the news he received earlier at Jean's house. Her dad insisted she date other men; he didn't want her tied down to any one man. As he saw it, if C and she were meant to be, it wouldn't be a problem. He now wondered and wanted other men to fuck his girlfriend. He felt as though he could handle anything and nothing she did would end what they have. He also saw her behavior as sowing her oats believing she would get it of her system. 

Now it was Jean's turn to surprise him. She had slipped off a shoe and pressed her foot against his crotch. He was daydreaming and trying to read the menu. Her foot so rattled him his first reaction was way different than tonight's. He started to jump up, shaking the table and spilling some of his coffee. 

Jean looked ready to burst suppressing a laugh. When he realized it was her he felt foolish at his reaction to Jean's sexual overture. He opened his legs and she pressed her foot against his crotch using her toes to locate his balls first. She softly pressed her foot against his sensitive eggs. She was staring at him really hard looking he thought very sultry. She commented as she kneaded them, "You must really trust me to let me do this. I could really hurt you."

He answered back, "I do trust you."

She said, "I'm glad. Don't you think the past month has made us even closer? I didn't think it was possible, but I'm even more in love with you. What I love most about you, besides your soft tongue, is your selflessness. You spoil me."

He agreed. The past month had moments of unbearable pain, but they paled in comparison and duration to the pleasure he derived from Jean's dating the very handsome, hung, muscular, bronzed, policeman, and mentor, named Leo. He was also arrogant, crude, and domineering. He was not vested in her in any way but sexually. If she needed another man to satisfy her sexual itches he was the perfect candidate.

Jean pushed her toes against his scrotum. He wondered if she really knew how fragile a man's testicles were. While he was nervous having her probe his scrotum with her toes it was he admitted a turn on to be so vulnerable. With little effort she could have him doubled over in pain.

She later told him his docility made her wet. She toyed with the idea of squeezing his cojones. While he wore them she considered them her property. She liked he didn't object to her possessiveness. She admitted to herself she was very controlling and demanding. She loved his eagerness to please her and to forgive her.

She wiggled her toes against his testicles. It wasn't gentle but it wasn't rough. It actually felt good but what felt better was when she moved her toes up. She located the root of his penis and began to work her way up. She asked if it felt good and he answered yes. His penis was hard and her toes concentrated on the underside, just below where the head and shaft meet, the sweet spot as she called it.

He mopped up the spilled coffee. Jean's eyes shifted their focus to the waiter standing against the wall. He couldn't see him without turning his head. It was obvious she was looking at something so he asked. She answered, "The waiter. Didn't you notice how handsome he is? He looks so macho."

Her wonderful foot suppressed whatever jealousy he felt. Besides it was he, not the waiter, who was on the receiving end of her toes. She was smiling at him now. He walked over to take their order. He thought she might stop or move her foot but she didn't.

Jean ordered for them. Her eyes never left the waiter's face. He came to recognize that glassy look and the dilated pupils as indicators of her arousal. She even referred to him as her boyfriend when she ordered his meal. The waiter glanced briefly at him, then shifted his focus back to Jean. 

He studied the waiter. His nametag said Jose. He was in his late 30s or early 40s. He was short like him. He had a Zapata moustache and thick coal black hair he combed straight back. He wasn't handsome so much as rugged looking. He did look very macho. He wondered if he had been a boxer. He imagined him for some reason as a boxer turned waiter. It was because of how he carried himself. He was very certain of himself. Jean's attention stoked his ego.

He found it a turn on the way she flirted with Jose in front of him. He pretended to pout commenting after he left, "And I'm not macho." She smiled, "No, you're sweet. And sweet is much better than macho."

He told her she was making the waiter's day. 

She smiled at him, "Now I'm going to begin making yours. I want you to sit back and enjoy." Jean kept her foot resting on his cock. Whenever she felt his hard on might be flagging, she resumed massaging him with her foot.

Their food soon arrived. Jose served her first. His hand had a pot glove in it. He gently explained to her the plate was hot and asked her to be careful. She put her hand on his and asked him to get us more chips and salsa. He looked at her hand on Jose's and then at his face. Jose knew he was watching but he didn't care. He focused on Jean. He sensed Jose was fencing Jean off from him, marking his boundaries, taking ownership of his girlfriend.

In response to her request, Jose put his other hand on top of hers and said, "En seguida" meaning right away. 

Jose put his plate in front of him, but didn't bother to give him the same admonition about the plates being hot. Jean's behavior, her complete control of the situation, excited him and inspired him to behave like a beta male would around the alpha. He looked down when Jose looked at him. He conceded leadership when he wouldn't make eye contact with Jose looking instead at his plate.

The meal itself was good. Jean and he hardly spoke, but the instant she glanced towards Jose he was back at their table refilling her glass. Instead of Jose asking him if he needed a refill, Jean asked him. He spoke to her and she relayed it to him. When he returned with a new cup of coffee he placed it in front of him, but his eyes were focused on Jean's.

Jose returned to his perch, standing against the wall. Jean and he stared at each other. It was unsettling to see her so focused on Jose. Her toes kept him hard. Whenever he worried she brought his penis back to life. He saw it as nothing more than a tease and he felt bad for Jose. Lunch would end and so would Jean's prick tease. He hoped Jose took it well.

He had to turn his head to see Jose making it impossible not to steal a glance without being obvious. He couldn't bring himself to look because he was as caught up in the moment as Jean.

Their eye contact not only continued but intensified. Other than her foot on his penis it was as though she was eating lunch alone. 

He found himself looking at Jean's chest while he ate his meal. Her nipples were visibly hard, poking against the material of her dress. He imagined how good it would feel to have his mouth on one of her tits. He knew it would be hours before he would have that opportunity. They would wait until it was dark, make up some pretext to leave the house, and go find a place to be alone.

Their courtship continued. Whenever she wanted Jose to approach her she would place her glass of ice tea next to the edge of the table. When he filled her glass, instead of letting him set the glass down she took it from his hand and thanked him. She engaged him in conversation telling him the meal was delicious. She complimented him on his service. He answered it was always a pleasure to serve a woman as beautiful as her. He moved his head closer and closer to her whenever they spoke. At one point he thought Jose was going to kiss her in front of him, but he didn't.

Jose's boldness astounded and aroused him. He watched Jean and Jose indirectly with his head tilted down. They continued to stare at each other. He told her she had beautiful eyes. She smiled and looked up at him. He then told her she had beautiful hair. She told him it was freshly washed and asked him if he wanted to smell it. He couldn't believe it when Jose bent down and smelled her hair. He asked if he could touch it as it looked so soft. She said yes. He put the fingers of one hand through her hair and ended his touch by caressing her face. She turned to his palm and lightly kissed his hand. 

He remembered his mouth hanging open in disbelief just sitting there while his girlfriend let another man touch and smell her hair. When she kissed his hand he was thankful Jean stopped moving her foot or he would have climaxed on the spot. Like a good book he didn't want what he was watching to end.

The moment passed. Their plates scraped clean, Jose took them away and asked Jean if they wanted dessert. Jean said she needed something sweet and ordered them sopapillas. She asked him to bring her boyfriend a coffee and a hot chocolate for her. 

Jose had ignored him up to that point. It was when she referred to him as her boyfriend, Jose drilled him with his eyes. His stare and the look on his face bespoke contempt. He briefly met his stare. He wanted to challenge him but didn't, looking down at his plate, Jean's toes consoling him for being weak. He never realized until that moment how much of a foot fetish he had and how aroused he felt by her toes. He stared at her lovely foot, the nails painted bright red, as they stroked the lump in his pants. Any other man would have been furious with the situation. He shouldn't have been aroused at the humiliation but he was. He felt the same way with Leo, but at least with Leo he wasn't in the same room.

His instincts as a man told him he should challenge Jose. Losing a fight wasn't the issue. Neither was being hurt. He didn't because deep down he wanted it to happen. He just couldn't admit he got off to another man seducing his girlfriend in front of him. He told himself it was just a phase she was going through. If he hung in there long enough she would remain his and only his.

Jose brought them the sopapillas. They smelled wonderful. Jean tore a corner off of hers and poured honey into it. She put it up to her mouth and bit into it. Jose stood there watching and asked if she liked it. She said it was wonderful and asked if he was just as sweet. He smiled and said, "Yes, but not nearly as sweet as I imagine you are." She took another bite and some of the honey trickled down the corner of her mouth. Before she could get a napkin, he had used his finger to wipe it from her face. 

He stared in disbelief. The honey was on Jose's index finger. Jean thanked him for being so nice. She said the honey was so good she didn't want to waste it. Jose held his hand in front of her face. He could see the honey coating it. She opened her mouth and Jose put his finger in it all the way to the last knuckle. She closed her mouth around it and he slowly removed it. He couldn't help but imagine Jose's finger as a cock and the honey as his sperm. Jean smiled at him and said, "I hope I got it all." 

He looked at Jose's crotch. His erection tented the front of his pants. He looked huge. He was breathing hard. Jean thanked him. He remained standing there looking as though he were in a daze. The fog he was enveloped in was his lust. Jean took a sip of her cocoa and another bite of her sopapilla. She continued to look at him and he at her. 

He might as well have been invisible. He looked at Jose's hands. On his left was a wedding band. He wondered if Jose had ever been unfaithful before and decided he had. He also pondered what Jean found attractive in men like Jose or Leo. She was always railing about the machista culture but those same men she felt sexually drawn to; she was a contradiction.

It was a good thing the restaurant was nearly empty. There were two other waiters milling about. They must have thought Jose and Jean knew each other and that explained why he hovered at their table. Jean continued eating the sopapilla. After it was done, she finished her hot chocolate tilting her head back as she drained the cup. She put the cup down and asked him if she had a moustache. He smiled and said yes. He started to pick up her napkin to clean her face, but she stopped him and asked him to use his fingers. He took the meaty part of his thumb and ran it across the flesh above Jean's upper lip erasing her moustache. He then held his thumb in front of her lips. Again, she opened her mouth. She grasped his hand with her two hands. She commented on how warm his hand was and said it was a sign he was passionate. He said her hands were soft. His thumb looked huge. He held it extended fully. She put it all the way in her mouth before closing her lips around it. She must have been running her tongue all around it. He closed his eyes, but she continued to stare up at him. She slowly took it out of her mouth and thanked him for cleaning her face. He looked flushed. He saw him as a buck in rut, oblivious to everything around him, but the doe in estrus.




Chance Encounter Ch. 09



She asked if he would get them "la cuenta" the bill. Jose didn't want to leave their table afraid the moment would end, but he did as she asked. As soon as Jose's back was to them, Jean pressed her toes against his now throbbing cock and rubbed. 

He gripped the edge of the table and came. She continued to rub against him as his penis spasmed one, two, three, four, five, and finally a sixth time. He could tell by the warm sticky feeling in his underwear that he had literally cum a bucket. While her toes massaged him to a climax he stared at Jean wanting to return the favor and believing the show was over. 

He was now aware of the wetness in his pants and hoped it wouldn't show when he got up to leave. He looked at Jean whose eyes shined with lust. Her pupils looked huge. She was equally aroused. He knew they would find someplace to stop even if it was daylight. She would insist he put out the fire between her legs. He remained aroused but his focus was on Jean, not his own pleasure. 

Jose returned with the bill. He placed it in front of him on a small tray along with two mints. He glared at him causing him to avert his eyes downward. He found himself unable to meet Jose's stare. 

Jose was obviously enjoying putting the horns to him. He seemed to gloat at his situation. He summed him up as being something significantly less than a man. After all, no real man, one with balls, would put up with the humiliation he was receiving.

Jean once again said her meal had been superb. He asked Jean if she would like a tour of the kitchen so she could personally thank the cook. She said that would be wonderful, but she needed to use the restroom first. She and he exchanged quick glances. He knew at that instant she and Jose were going to do something. He remembered thinking to himself she is doing it again. She is going to have sex with him. 

She didn't look at him again as she slid out of the booth. His silence she took as approval. She had her hand extended and Jose helped her up. He kept his hand on hers as he escorted her to the restroom. He guarded the door after she went inside. Several minutes later she exited. He guided her through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen. He pushed the door open for her; she went through it. Jose glanced back at him before following Jean into the kitchen.

As for him, he did what he was doing now. He sat and waited. He studied the bill and wondered how much of a tip he should leave. He decided to let Jean dictate the amount. 

The cum soaking his underwear was now cold. He wondered if it would dry anytime soon. From past experience he knew it would make his pubic hairs stick together. He looked at his watch, 5 after the hour. He wondered just how far Jean was going to take it. He hoped it would be all the way. 

Jean returned alone at half past the hour. He was looking at his nearly empty and very cold cup of coffee feeling very sorry for himself, wondering whether he should cry or laugh hysterically at the madness he was now a part of when Jean suddenly appeared at the table. It was not a moment too soon because he was on the verge of losing it.

Her voice startled him, "Are you ready?" 

He jerked and looked up at her. Her hair was freshly combed and her lipstick newly applied. She was smiling at him broadly, her teeth looked even whiter against the contrast of her bright red lipstick. 

He weakly smiled back, "You're back." He looked at his watch noting the time, "That took a while." 

Her tone wasn't unpleasant but matter of fact, "I know. After the kitchen he showed me the storage room. I hope you didn't mind."

His throat formed a lump that made it impossible to talk until he swallowed. He wanted to come across as cool and composed as she was, "No, I didn't mind. How much of a tip should I leave?" 

She looked at the bill. The amount was under fifteen dollars. "Twenty would be good, but you decide what he was worth." 

He opened his wallet and left a twenty on the tray. He stood up and Jean looked down at his crotch. She looked almost matronly, purse in hand. She whispered nodding her head, "Your pants." 

He looked down. His cum had soaked through. The pants were a thin khaki material. The wet spot wasn't silver dollar sized, but the size of a paper bill.

Jean asked him to give her the money and told him to go to the car while she paid the bill. He hustled out of the restaurant not wanting anyone to see his wet pants. She neglected to give him the car keys so he stood in the parking lot feeling very exposed. 

Jose was on the side of the building having a cigarette. He saw him standing there and grinned at him looking like Sylvester the cat with Tweety Bird in his mouth.

Jean came outside. He shouted goodbye to her and she waved goodbye to him.

She smiled at him and apologized saying she had forgotten to give him the car keys. She asked if anyone had seen him as she knew the stain was located in a very prominent spot. He answered her no. 

She said, "Hmmm. Too bad. I would have enjoyed watching you try to hide it."

She unlocked the car and held the door open for him.. The waiter continued to stare at them. He got in and slid over. She followed closing the door behind her. She wasted little time and immediately started the engine. They were out of the parking lot before he had his seat belt buckled. She didn't say a word, but her eyes gave the impression she was looking for something.

She found an empty parking lot. The business it served was closed. She parked facing the street. It was broad daylight. She turned towards him. She said she had a treat for him. She told him to get closer. She took one of my hands and guided it under her dress bringing it to her panties. She explained, "I took them off when I went into the bathroom, but I put them on afterward as I didn't want it to leak out and get my dress wet. Put your finger in me."

He felt the blood rush to both his face and penis. Hi fingers were trembling as he reached under the elastic band of her panties and put his middle finger in her. She smiled at him and asked if he was excited having his finger in her. She asked, "Can you feel his cum?" 

He moved his finger around and she told him to add another, "See if you can scoop some out. He came a lot." She stared at his hand, holding her panties away from it as he extracted his fingers from her. He held his fingers up. They were coated with a sticky yellow white juice. 

Jean looked at him, "That's his. Go ahead. Put your fingers in your mouth and clean them off." There was an urgency and excitement in her voice he found contagious. He couldn't deny her.

She watched him and he licked each finger clean. She looked excited. Her voice cracked, "It tastes good doesn't it? You like to clean me of other men's cum don't you?" 

He nodded yes. He was happy but also fearful. He didn't want her to label him as gay. She sensed his turmoil and assured him, "Don't worry. You're not gay. Besides I like it when you do. Do it again." 

They sat in the parking lot for fifteen minutes until she was sure he had gotten the majority of it out. After each insertion there was an extraction followed by another insertion and extraction only the latter two were in and out of my mouth. As he sucked their juices off his fingers he thought how good it tasted. It reminded him of hot and sour soup. Jean became increasingly excited from the constant dipping of his fingers into her cum filled cunt and their subsequent cleaning in his warm wet mouth. At the end, she asked him to pet her. 

They exchanged deep french kisses as he petted her to orgasm. He knew his breath tasted of cum and pussy. Judging by the heat of her kisses he concluded she liked it.

After she orgasmed, she adjusted her panties covering what was previously exposed. She started the car and drove to the store. The stain less wet, but still very visible, he opted to wait in the car while she ran her mom's errands. Errands complete, Jean drove them to her house. He wanted to press her for details about her waiter, but didn't. Parked in front of her house, she said, "I hope you enjoyed lunch as much as I did." 

He hoped he sounded sincere, "Yes. It was very erotic." 

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and said, "I enjoyed it too. But the weekend's not over." 

He was struggling with conflicting emotions. He felt the pangs of buyer's remorse. He also worried about Jean's mom seeing his cum soaked slacks. She would immediately know what they were from. He could easily lie to her, but after catching them dry humping she wouldn't believe him. He didn't want her to dad to have another reason to limit their time together. 

Jean came up with a solution, "Carry the groceries. Put them down and go to my room. I'll get you a change of clothes. I'm sure my brothers have some of their old clothes lying around. I'll wash and dry your clothes. They'll be ready for you to wear tonight."

They went inside. After he put the groceries away he went into Jean's room. She came back a few minutes later and said she had come up empty handed, but she had an idea. They were the same height and weighed almost the same. She had a pair of sweats she said he could wear that she hoped weren't too feminine. She opened a drawer and told him he could choose either the pink or the light blue. 

He asked her if she had anything less feminine, like gray or black. She said, "No. Those are ugly colors." 

He chose the light blue, rationalizing its color as a hint more masculine.

She reminded him he needed his underwear underwear washed. She opened another drawer and threw him a pair of pale blue panties. 

He said, "Jean. I'll skip the underwear." 

She said, "Trust me you need underwear. Those sweats aren't very thick and you'll jiggle. Besides they match the sweats." 

He continued to protest no, but bowed to her wishes after hearing her beg, "Do it for me. Please. It will be so sexy knowing you are wearing my panties. Please. It will make me so happy."

He said yes. She left the room and told him to change. He stripped down deciding to have her wash his shirt and socks also. He put her panties on and wondered what life would be like without a penis. He looked at himself in her vanity mirror. He turned around and admired his ass thinking it definitely looked better in Jean's panties than his white Fruit of the Looms. He put on the sweat bottoms and top. He opened the door to the bedroom and Jean came into the room. She asked him to hand over his clothes. She would go wash them and told him to turn on the t.v. She asked if he was thirsty. He turned the t.v. on and sat down on the floor to watch it.

Jean returned a few minutes later with a beer for him and a glass of iced tea for her. He asked about his clothes. She replied she had given them to her mom to wash. 

He choked on his beer. He couldn't believe it. He protested, "Jean," but she cut him off.

She told him, "Relax. She won't know what it is." 

He was speechless and more than a little mortified at the thought of her mother applying spray and wash to get the cum stains out of his underwear and pants. She would have to be awfully naïve to not know what stained underwear indicated. He said nothing more as it was pointless to protest a fait accompli.

Jean excused herself and took the pink sweats out of one drawer and a pair of pink panties and bra out of another. She winked at him and said, "We'll match." She left the room and came back a few minutes later garbed in her pink sweats. 

He was lying on the floor watching t.v. replaying what they had done again and again. He still couldn't believe it had really happened. She allowed a complete stranger to fuck her and without a condom. And he had dutifully cleaned her of his cum. He shifted around because as mortified as he was at what they done his penis thought otherwise, coming to attention.

He looked up when she walked in and thought pink complimented her. She sat down cross-legged, her back resting against the side of the bed, and put a pillow in her lap. She told him to move and offered her lap as a pillow.

He repositioned himself and rested his head on her lap. She looked down at him, smiled, and caressed his face. He smiled up at her. She asked him if he enjoyed lunch. 

He said, "Very much so." 

They had lowered their voices and were whispering. She said, "What happened was incredible. I never thought I could do something like that." 

Like an idiot he asked, "Did you like it?" 

He detected slight irritation in her voice at his question, "What do you think?" 

He whispered back regretting his question, "Yes." 

She sounded angrier, "That's an understatement. I loved it. Watching your reaction while I seduced him was incredibly hot. I was soaking wet when I wiped in the bathroom." 

He said, "I could tell you were aroused." 

"Duh. What gave it away?"

He ignored her sarcastic tone, "Your entire facial expression changes. And your nipples, they looked like they were about to poke through your dress."

She smiled and pulled her top away from her and over his face. He was staring up at her tits. The bra she was wearing didn't look very supportive making her erect nipples all the more obvious. "Like now?" 

"Yes, like now." 

She pulled the top off of his head. "Show's over." 

"I didn't know you could do that with your foot." 

"Did you like it? I was afraid I was too rough and might hurt you. I'm mighty fond of 'The Little Fellow,'" her pet name for his penis. 

He assured her, "You didn't hurt me. It was just the right amount of pressure. I could feel your toes gripping me." 

She smiled obviously pleased with herself. She stroked his face. He kissed her hand remembering how she kissed the waiter's hand.

He asked, "Had you thought about doing that or was it completely spontaneous?" 

She answered, "I had thought about it, knowing it would turn you on, but I hadn't thought about who I would do it with." 

He told her, "You made his day, hell, his entire year. He won't forget that." 

"I don't know why but I found him very attractive. You won't believe me, but I was so nervous. I was afraid he might react totally negative. But when he looked back at me each time I stared at him I just knew it was going to be okay. You made it a lot easier. Whenever he looked at you, you lowered your head." 

"I must have looked pretty wimpy." 

She smiled at him sweetly and lowered her head to kiss him. "Yes, you did," before planting her lips softly on mine.

He felt strangely uncomfortable. While he enjoyed what happened he didn't relish his new role.

Jean was a step ahead of him, "If you hadn't been totally submissive, nothing would have happened. Thank you." 

He asked, "Thank me? Why?" 

She added a bit of harshness to an otherwise sweet whisper, "That had to be difficult letting another man humiliate you like that." 

"It was," he answered, but deep down he admitted it had been surprisingly easy to be meek and allow himself to be dominated. Way too easy he thought. 

He told her, "I should be thanking you for what you did. I couldn't believe how much I came." 

Her head was over his staring down at him. She smiled down and he smiled up. There was a subtle hardness in her smile, one he didn't immediately sense.

She wondered aloud if his clothes were ready for the dryer and asked him to go check.

He didn't mind checking but he didn't want to be seen walking around her house in her powder blue sweats. He asked, "Jean, is your dad home?"

"No." 

"Why do you ask?" 

He explained why. 

She found it amusing. She later told him what she found so funny was his worrying what her parents thought of him. His girlfriend was fucking two other men and he wasn't just her enabler, but coconspirator, lapping up the evidence. She laughed quietly before asking, "What about my mom?" 

"I know she likes me. She wouldn't say anything." 

She assured him, "My dad likes you too; he's just very protective of me." 

"I know." He told her about his comments regarding his study habits the past Sunday. 

She smiled, "See. He's proud of you. He knows we're crazy about each other. He thought after a couple of weeks being apart we would split up or that I would choose Leo over you, but he was wrong both times. Now go check the laundry." 

He got up and padded across the house. Jean's mom was in the living room watching t.v. Her face turned slightly red when she saw him. She didn't say anything about the sweats. She asked how lunch went and where we ate. She said that she loved the food there and the waiters were very attentive. She asked who they had as a waiter and he lied saying he didn't remember seeing a name tag. She asked him for a description.

After he did, she said, "That was Jose. He's very good."

"Jean and I certainly liked him." 

She commented, "If I had known you were going there I would have joined you for lunch. Their food is so good." 

He didn't know what to say, "There's always a next time. We'll go back." 

Her mother thought out loud, "Maybe I'll take Jean there for lunch later this week." 

He told her, "She'd love that." 

He continued going to the laundry room when she said, "I already put your clothes in the dryer." He felt relieved she saw them after they were clean and not befor. She smiled at him.

He thanked her and returned to Jean's bedroom. 

Jean was waiting for him. He was about to sit down when Jean suggested they switch. He said okay. They switched positions and now he was the one caressing her face as they talked. He looked at her chest thinking her breasts looked bigger. 

She was still whispering, "I heard you and Mom talking." 

"Yes, she wants to take you to lunch there later this week." 

"That would be nice, don't you think? Did you like your meal?" 

"Yes, both of them." 

She softly laughed, "I knew you were going to say that." They resumed watching t.v. 

At the next commercial break he asked, "Jean, are you going to tell me what happened?" 

There was noticeable irritation in her voice, "You tell me what happened. You were there. You know what he and I did." She paused before continuing, "Go on. Tell me what he did to your girlfriend." 

He remembered his face getting red hot at her grilling. There was derision in her voice. Deep down did his behavior disgust her? He answered, "He slept with you." 

Wrong answer by the tone of her voice, "No we didn't sleep. What did he do?" 

He lowered his voice even further driven to keep it clinical void of emotion, "He had sex with you." 

She still didn't sound any happier with him, "That sounds so clinical. Be more specific." 

He mouthed it not wanting to whisper the words, "He fucked you." 

"Say it again and louder."

"He fucked you." 

"And what did he do when he fucked me?" 

Her voice conveyed contempt for him.

"He petted you?" taking a wild guess. 

"No. He didn't pet me. It wasn't necessary. Maybe I'm not being clear. What did he put in me when he fucked me?" 

"His penis."

"Not his penis, his cock. Now say it." 

"He fucked you with his cock."

"What happened next?"

"He came in you."

"That's right. He released his sperm in me. Jose, the waiter, fucked your future wife, and came inside her." 

His face had gone from red to pale white. He felt sick to his stomach. He thought she despised him for being weak. She hated him for what he allowed to happen.

Jean wasn't through, "Do you want to know if I enjoyed it?" 

He mumbled, "Yes." 

She spat out her answer, "Very much. I came twice, a little one when he entered me and a big one when he began to climax." 

The room got hotter. He now pictured Jose on top of Jean, his black waiter pants and underwear down around his feet, her dress pulled up, she lying on a stack of boxes or perhaps a cot normally used by a sleepy waiter to catch a nap between the lunch and dinner crowds. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 09



He knew he should stop asking but he couldn't, "Then it was good." 

"Yes. Jose is no Leo, but he was able to last a long time. But that wasn't what made it good." 

"What made it so good then?" 

"Watching your reaction while I seduced him. And the way you looked away when he stared at you. The way he catered to me through lunch while he ignored you. The best part was while he was fucking me I knew you were sitting in the booth having to wait, but not knowing what we were doing or when we would finish." 

He wanted to tell her he thought they were a team enjoying this experience together, playing roles, not being their true selves, but what came out was, "Jean, I'm not a wimp." 

"But you were today." 

"Is that how you see me?" 

She said nothing. He leaned his head back resting it against the side of the mattress. He closed his eyes momentarily hoping the nausea he was feeling would go away. It didn't. He moved Jean's head, jumped up, and ran to the bathroom. The instant he positioned his head over the toilet, his entire lunch came up. Even after his stomach was empty he continued to dry heave. He flushed the toilet, but not before cleaning the rim of any vomit that missed the bowl. He stood up feeling weak, but better. He went to the sink and washed his hands. He then splashed water on his face and rinsed his mouth out. He looked through a vanity drawer, found some toothpaste, squeezed it onto his finger and brushed the taste out of his mouth. 

He heard Jean ask several times if he was okay, but ignored her. She knocked on the bathroom door, but he didn't open it until he was ready to leave. He opened the door to find her standing there a look of concern on her face, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I guess lunch didn't agree with me. Are my clothes dry?" 

She said, "Are those dirty?" pointing to his sweats. 

"No, I just feel like changing. I want to go home"

She looked disappointed, "Don't go. You can lay down on my bed and take a nap. Please." 

It was as though she flicked off one switch and turned on another. Against his better judgement he let her talk him into staying. She escorted him back to her bed. He lay down on his side, his head resting on her pillow, feeling depressed and exhausted. He could smell her scent on the pillow. He thought of how much he loved her and wondered if she loved him the same. He didn't understand her anger. He thought he was being a supportive boyfriend. He believed they were sharing something unique.

She sat on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes. He could feel her looking at him. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his face. He fell asleep, but not before hearing, "I love you." 

He didn't answer back. 

She covered him with a blanket and left the room. She was on the edge of the bed when he awoke. 

She asked, "Do you feel rested?" 

The humiliation and hurt temporarily forgotten he answered, "Yes." 

"How's your stomach?" 

"Okay." He rolled onto his back.

Jean's mom came in a minute later. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

He told her he was fine thinking it might have been something he ate.

Her mom said, "I've never gotten sick from their food. How are you feeling Jean?" 

Jean said she was fine, but they hadn't eaten the same thing. He had eaten enchiladas verdes while she had eaten tacos de carne asada. Just like her he thought always wanting meat.

Her mom left and returned a few minutes later with his clothes neatly folded. "Here's your clothes." Her expression revealed nothing to indicate she knew the stains were from his semen. 

He thanked her. 

She smiled and said it was her pleasure, "I checked. You didn't stain them, but you need to be more careful. That's twice in the last week you had an accident." 

He felt his face flush, "I'll be careful. I promise." 

"Boys are so careless. Jean's dad and brothers were the same way." She left the room, but not before closing the door, leaving he and Jean alone. He wished she had stayed because what he was now feeling was awkward. He wondered if today marked the end of them as a couple. He felt numb inside. 

He looked at Jean. She smiled at him hoping he would smile back. He looked at her wondering how she could have been so mean to him one minute and so nice the next. 

Jean spoke first, "I'm sorry for what I said. I thought you liked what I was doing. I didn't mean to get so carried away." 

"I did like what happened, but I don't want you to think of me that way." 

"Normally I don't think of you that way, but today seeing you totally dominated by another man turned me on." 

"And you enjoy that, seeing me humiliated?" 

She glanced away before staring at him, "Not always, but sometimes I do, like today." 

"That's not very comforting." 

She persisted in pointing out the obvious, "Admit it. You liked it and from the stain on your paints more than just a little. I would say a whole lot."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, her observation was accurate. "I guess you're right." 

"You guess? I know I'm right. I wish I had a picture of you at lunch to show you." 

"But I don't want you to always think of me that way. I do have a backbone." 

"I don't always think of you that way. You're very strong morally. What other man would marry me knowing I was carrying another man's child?" 

He felt flattered. "But..." 

"But what?" "There are times I think you like being humiliated." 

"I guess I never thought of it that way. What other times?" 

"Last Sunday when I was with Leo and now today." She let the words sink in. "It's your personality. And it's not just with Leo and now Jose. You're that way around me. You like me to be in charge, don't you?" 

He thought before answering, but she was right,"Yes." 

"I like it too," she softly said.

"You really seemed like you hated me when you were telling me." 

"Hate you, never. I love you. I don't know why, but it excited me to make you feel useless and..." 

He finished her sentence, "Less than a man. You enjoy humiliating me." 

She said, "Yes. But it's not because I don't love you. I love you even more when you let me get my way even if it means hurting your feelings." She paused before continuing, "You like it too. If you didn't you would have broken up with me." 

"Is that what you want Jean? For me to break up with you?" 

"No. Losing you would devastate me. You're my best friend and lover. I'm just saying you must like it or you wouldn't still be here." 

"I didn't like the way you talked to me before I got sick. You sounded so mean." 

"I'm sorry, but it's hard to humiliate you and sound sweet." 

"When I asked you to tell me what happened I was hoping you would tell me how the two of you made love detail by detail." 

Jean looked hurt at his choice of words to describe her recent encounter with the waiter. "Is that what you think he and I did, made love? Do you think I make love with Leo? Tonto (stupid), there's only one man I've made love to, you. And I only want one man for a boyfriend, you. Sometimes I don't think you'll ever get it. You're the only one for me, the only one who I'll ever make love with. Today was for us. I loved seeing you so excited. That made it even more exciting for me. Jose and I didn't make love; we had sex. He put his cock in me, fucked me until we both came, and that was it, end of story. What you and I did afterwards in the car was making love." 

Now it was his turn to look surprised. 

She explained, "Making love is more than intercourse. Anything you and I do physically with one another I consider making love. Watching you lick your fingers clean and petting me afterwards is making love because you are doing it for me. It's a sign of how much you love me." She paused before asking, "Do I make sense?"

"Yes, you make sense. I just feel so threatened right now I need lots of reassurance." 

She leaned over and tenderly kissed him, "Then I'll just have to reassure you. Just remember, only one man took my virginity, you. I could have lost it to anyone, but I wanted it to be you. You're the man I want to marry, raise kids and grow old with. I hope you'll always feel the same." 

"Jean, I feel the same way. I'm just having a hard reconciling the two different sides of me." 

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a man. What we're doing makes me feel like I'm a sissy, a maricon (homosexual). Like I'm not a man." 

"We all care what other people think, but don't let anyone's opinion of you keep you from being you. Trust me; you're all man so don't think you're not." 

He must have looked skeptical. She tried another approach, "See if this helps. Think of the times when I'm with other men as break time for you from having to be a "man". You can put your guard down and let the other side come out. Consider it a mini vacation from having to always being in charge, doing well in school, working, and eventually being the breadwinner." 

He pointed out, "But around you I'm never in charge."

She asked, "Do you want to be? I'll let you." 

He thought about it for about a split second, "No. I really like you making our decisions. It's nice having you in charge." 

Saying it to her made him immediately feel better. She was letting him be him self and he was letting her be her. He liked having her dominate him; even when it felt bad it felt good. 

She said, "I know I'm bossy. Just tell me if I'm being too bossy. I tend to go overboard on everything I do. Promise me you'll tell me. I won't like hearing it, but I'll try and tone down a little." 

"You're not too bossy. Around you I don't mind being told what to do. It would be different with someone else."

He rolled to his side and sat up. They hugged. He asked her what she felt like doing. 

She said, "How about we stay in? We can watch t.v., play board games or cards, order pizza." 

He felt like cocooning. Her idea sounded wonderful. He got out of bed and picked up his clothes. 

Jean said, "You don't need to change. Just wear my sweats." 

He protested saying, "I don't want your dad to see me in these. They're a little effeminate." 

She answered, "My dad won't care. Just wear them. I know they're comfortable." 

"Okay", he said, still skeptical, but secretly glad he didn't have to change. 

"I bet you look cute in my panties. You might just have to give me a peek." 

He smiled and said, "Only if you insist."

The evening took an even better turn. Her sister was at the movies and was going to a party afterwards. Her mom and dad went out, first to dinner then to another couple's house for cards and drinking. Her dad was headed to the car when her mom said goodbye, reminding them to have fun and to pick up Jean's sister at midnight. Her mom kept stealing glances at his crotch while talking to them. Her last words were spoken to Jean, but were for both their benefit.

Her face positively glowed when she said, "Jean, Tell him he needs to be more careful, but if there's an accident, leave the clothes on top of the washer. I'll do them when I get home."

Jean looked overjoyed. It was as though a business deal they had been negotiating for months had fallen into place. They had reached an agreement. Her mother was seeing Jean in a new light, as a woman, one with carnal desires.

Jean hugged her, "Oh, Mom, you're the best." 

He didn't grasp the deal they were cutting. He was just embarrassed that Jean's mom knew those were cum stains on his clothes.

Jean and her mom hugged goodbye. Her mom closed the door and said for them to have fun, but not too much fun. 

He said goodbye. She closed the door behind her. 

Jean's dad had hardly said a word before he exiting the house. He and his wife were at odds over the two of them dating. He loved his wife, but wished he had dated more. His wife agreed to a point, but believed the decision to date others or be exclusive with one boy was hers to make. Not his.

Her dating Leo he thought should have cooled off their relationship, but it hadn't so Jean's dad cranked up the heat insisting she date more men. He was hoping her boyfriend would get fed up and do the same. He didn't necessarily want the two of them to break up as he saw in her boyfriend a man who would treat his daughter well and be a good provider. He just thought they were too young to be so serious. 

He also erroneously concluded Jean was a very good girl. He knew of Leo's reputation; their families had been friends for years, but Jean certainly didn't seem taken with Leo. She dutifully went on her dates. If she was feeling conflicted it was news to him. He wondered if it was their age difference. He saw Leo as a stud and didn't understand why his daughter wasn't crazy about him. He really didn't understand how women think.

After her parents left he had to know what was going on between Jean and her mom, "Jean, what was all that about?" 

"Relax," she said. 

"Jean, she knows what caused those stains. Once she tells your dad, do you really think he'll let me set foot around here?" 

"Don't worry, she won't tell my dad." 

"How can you be so sure?" 

"Look. I know my mom. She takes you cumming in your underwear as a good sign. It means you're not cumming in me and that I'm still a virgin. But that's not why I'm so happy. She's on our side, not my dad's." 

He knew there was alot of talk about he and Jean dating and how to cool it off, but he thought Jean's mom and dad were in agreement. 

Jean explained, "She would never go against my dad. That's the way she was brought up; the man is always right. A good wife supports her husband's decision even if it is wrong. Tonight she let me know she disagrees with him. She likes me dating you, but she would never tell my dad."

It didn't really change anything. She would still do as her dad asked, date other men. Those she felt drawn to she would have sex with. He wouldn't date anyone else, but Jean. They would ride this rough patch out, make it their adventure, and be better for it. He still believed it was a phase. 

Jean he would later discover had only shared some of her thoughts with him. While she enjoyed humiliating him, being in charge, and the feel of another man's cock, she did find it irritating he wanted to know details. He wasn't her confessor. She didn't want to feel guilty for getting what he couldn't give her. She couldn't help but blame him. As to the experience itself what she felt and did was private. It was Jose's cock that brought her so much pleasure not her boyfriend's and all the pillow talk in the world wouldn't change it. She had provided him plenty of details about Leo, but their relationship was different now. He knew and joyfully accepted her infidelity. He was her cuckold.



Chance Encounter Ch. 09



At long last, Paul's orgasm came upon him. He thrust in as deeply as he could and poured himself into her. With each of his spasms he watched Glenda gasp for breath. He kept himself inside her after he finished. Glenda resumed her pace. After two or three more cycles she came strongly, her climax causing her to exhale all her breath as she remained tensed for long seconds.

As they descended from their heights, Paul withdrew from her and dismounted. The release of their energy into one another refilled a cavity in their souls that had so long needed mending. Their forced separation was over.

Paul laid on his back, Glenda aside him, her head on his shoulder. They said nothing for a while as they savored the special moment. They would make love again before drifting off to sleep, but nothing could match the intensity that they had just achieved.

Glenda broke the silence.

"I should never have shut you out."

"It's in the past." Paul answered. "I'm more worried about the future."

"You deserve some answers. Don't you want them." she asked.

"Not really!" was the reply.

"Why not? You have a right to them!" she insisted.

"Because no matter what you would say, it wouldn't change my mind about anything. I'd still want you." he countered.

"You're never going to make me explain or apologize?" she asked.

"Nope!" he replied.

"Then we can go back just like we were before?" she was making sure she understood.

"It can't be like before." Paul declared. "We've been through a lot since before. I care for you more now." 

Paul's statement froze Glenda. She knew Paul well enough to know that he didn't make such statements lightly. She knew that she must decide to accept his terms if she could, or tell him that she could not. She realized that she could not close herself to him, even if she wanted to—and she did not want to.

They eased into one another; Paul was stoking her back.

"Don't you want to ask me anything?" she tried him one last time.

"Yes!" he said. "Do you want to order breakfast from room service tomorrow, or eat in the dining room?"

"Ohhh!" she growled in mock frustration.

They decided on the dining room.

********* 

Paul arrived at the office the next day at four in the afternoon. Life was looking up since reuniting with Glenda. As he passed Marge he set a vase with a rosebud on her desk that he bought for her at a florist as he drove to the office from the airport.

"You deserve more, but it's the thought that counts." Paul said as he walked by. 

"So it went well?" Marge confirmed as he disappeared into his office.

"Better than well." Paul called back from inside his office. "Thanks, Marge."

Marge had all the thanks that she needed. "I charged the baseball tickets to your credit card." She called out. 

Paul emptied out his briefcase, preparing to write up a summary of his New Jersey trip. He was full of energy, although he had no right to be. He and Glenda had saved little time for sleep the night before. He was finishing off a tough East Coast trip, and just came off a flight from Chicago. Putting things right with Glenda changed his outlook.

He spied a pile of unopened mail on the corner of his desk. He sorted through it for anything that appeared urgent. One of the envelopes was an inter-office correspondence that was marked 'Confidential'. Paul didn't open it; he knew that the Ethics Committee was at it again.

Marge buzzed and told him that Glenda was on the phone.

Paul: Hi, Glenda. How are you holding up? We didn't get much sleep last night.

Glenda: It was alright with me. Once in a while we have to pretend that we're still twenty. But Paul, that's not why I called. I only have a few minutes, and then I have to get to my Paralegal class. I have some news that I think that you should know.

Paul: Sounds serious—what is it?

Glenda: It came over the news this afternoon. Dean Judson and Arthur Hopkins committed suicide last night. They jumped together from the roof of the building where Judson's condo is located. The news article was really about Judson, since he's local. Hopkins was only mentioned in passing. 

Paul told Glenda of Hopkins' AIDS revelation.

Paul: Did they leave a suicide note?

Glenda: The news report didn't say.

Paul: How do you feel?

Glenda: I don't know how to feel. I can't be glad of that happening to anyone, but it's hard to feel bad after what they did to me. It makes me feel guilty because of the photos.

Paul: I understand. But the photos didn't give him the disease—keep that in mind.

Glenda: I know. I've got to run. Thanks for listening. 

Paul hung up and thought about the news. He wasn't surprised. He reached down deep and looked for some sorrow to pull to the surface, but found none. He wouldn't stoop to hypocrisy, especially to himself. He wondered if the Ethics Committee would shelve their inquiry, since the victims were gone.

At that moment, Ted Wilson appeared in the doorway. Paul motioned him inside.

"Welcome back!" Ted greeted him. "There's news about your friend, Hopkins."

Paul decided to forego correcting Ted about whether or not Hopkins was his friend. 

"I know." He replied. "Glenda just called and told me."

"So you two are back together! That's great!" Ted digressed. "That's not why I'm here. The Ethics Committee is going forward with its inquiry on the Hopkins photos. You're on the hot seat again, I'm afraid."

"I thought that they might forget it now that Hopkins and Judson are dead. Between you and me, I'm ashamed to say that I'm glad that they're dead. They had a lot to answer for." Paul confessed.

"You might want to adopt a more sanctimonious attitude—at least outside these four walls." Ted warned him. "The suicides are heating up the Ethics Committee's inquiry, not cooling it down. I was just a fly on the wall in the Directors' Meeting and Allison Greene is quite upset. Frankly, she let everyone know that she's blaming you, personally, for the deaths."

"I didn't do anything but shred the photos when I received them." Paul retorted.

"You can probably convince them of that." Ted began. "They're going to make you divulge where you got them."

"I won't do it." Paul declared.

"You better think about it. You have a week. At least contact those involved and see what they think." Ted advised.

"Alright, Ted. Thanks for letting me know."

Paul's mind was already made up. He would tell them nothing. It would jeopardize Glenda's standing when she received her Paralegal Certificate, Jim Spencer's career, and Harry Carmichael's status as a prime Dunn contractor. 

*********** 

The Ethics Committee meeting was under way. Marge had testified earlier that she had shredded the photos. She told the members that Jim Spencer was present when Paul gave her the material for destruction, but that she had not seen Jim give anything to Paul. 

The three members of the Committee took their accustomed stances. Allison Greene was aggressive in pursuing the case. Elizabeth Pender kept questioning why the inquiry was important at all. Alan Richardson maintained his elder statesman role in the middle. To add seriousness to the proceedings, Earl Carleton, Board Chairman and CEO, and George Adams were present as observers. Ted Wilson was asked to sit in for legal advice.

It had been revealed that Judson's final note blamed the photos for his and Hopkins suicide decision.

Greene led the inquisition.

"So you admit receiving blackmail materials, Mr. Crane." accused the bitter Allison Greene.

"I acknowledge receiving the photos. I took no part in acquiring them, and did nothing with them except destroy them. In a sense, I prevented blackmail." he answered.

"That's what Mrs. Bates said." Greene sneered. "Who gave you the photos?"

"I refuse to tell you." Paul said.

"You have to tell!" Greene insisted.

"I won't!" Paul shot back.

"Did Jim Spencer give you the material?" Greene asked directly.

"No!" Paul replied emphatically.

It was a moment of great import for Paul. It was the first time in his career that he had lied to any superior about any business matter. It didn't go down easily, but he had decided on his action before the meeting started. It was a bitter taste, a stain he was forced to smear on himself by Allison Greene and Alan Richardson. It was brought on him so that Richardson could receive sex from Greene. They robbed him of that which he treasured most highly, and Paul knew that they would squander his treasure as easily as a spoiled heir spends his allowance. The turning point had arrived.

Greene turned to her colleagues.

"This man is the cause the deaths of two prominent men. He must be directed to tell us who gave him the photos." 

Paul interjected by recounting how Hopkins had revealed his contracting the AIDS disease. He argued that it was the real impetus for the suicide. The Committee members looked at him in silence. 

"Paul, we are going to recommend that the Board direct you to disclose the information to us." Richardson declared.

"Wait!" Pender cried. "We're risking losing one of our best executives over nothing."

"Guys like him are a dime a dozen!" Greene snarled.

"Come to order!" Richardson demanded, before Pender could respond. "We'll vote on the record. The motion is to recommend to the Board of Directors that Paul Crane be ordered to divulge the source of the photographs he received of Arthur Hopkins and Dean William Judson."

Greene seconded.

Carleton and Adams remained silent.

The clerk called out the names. 

"Greene!"

"Yes."

"Pender!"

"No."

"Richardson!"

"Yes."

Paul knew that his career at Dunn was over. The Board would not override the Ethics Committee, and he would never tell them what they wanted to know.

Paul stood up to leave.

"Please think it over, Paul." George Adams finally spoke up.

Paul turned and left the room.

********** 

Paul knew that the Board would not meet for a week. It gave him some time to clear up some of his details.

Paul told Marge what had happened. She started sobbing.

"Relax, Marge!" he told her. "It will be easier for us to be friends if I'm not your boss."

Paul called Jim Spencer on Peoria.

"My final order to you, Jim, is to never admit that you gave me those pictures. You did nothing except carry them to me in your briefcase, but they'll crucify you anyway. What would be the point?"

He called Larry Wilton to inquire about Grafton. When Hopkins died, Montgomery cut Grafton loose. He had lost his leverage with them. The case on him, however, was placed on the inactive list because it was hopeless without Morehead's testimony. 

On his final day Paul was packing his desk. He was nearly ready to go. He had said all his good-byes. Ted Wilson appeared at his door.

"I'm supposed to convince you to change your mind." Ted told him.

"I can't do that, Ted."

"Can't—or won't?" Ted asked.

"Both, I guess." Paul answered.

"What are you going to do? You're too young to retire." Ted queried.

"I'm still the best engineer that I know. I'll set up a consulting business. Harry Carmichael already asked me to join up with him. I think that I'll go it alone for a year and build up some clients. I might go in with him when I can bring something of my own to the party."

"So, you're not going to change your mind?" Ted tried a last time.

Paul shook his head 'no'.

"The company won't be the same without you." Ted pleaded.

"It's not the same company anymore." Paul answered. "Allison Greene and Alan Richardson are calling the shots now. You heard Greene. She said that guys like me are a dime a dozen. If that's what they think, let them give it a try and see how far they get."

"Nobody but Greene thinks that. I know Richardson doesn't. I can't figure out what's wrong with him." Ted was not giving up.

"Sometimes people like Greene and Richardson win, and there's not a thing that anyone can do about it. I don't have to worry about it anymore." Paul declared.

"You'll worry about it, anyway." Ted warned.

"I'm going to try not to." Paul quipped back. "Look, if they want to back down, you have my number."

Ted realized that he had tried as hard as he could, but Paul was not turning back.

"I'll see you on the golf course." Paul said, shaking hands with Ted. "My handicap is down to eight, you know."

He took a final look around, picked up his briefcase; he hugged Marge one last time, and left.

********* 

The early morning rain woke him. He was at his cabin on the Peninsula. Glenda lay atop him. July was just around the corner; the weather had been hot and humid. This rain would break things up. 

Glenda's soft, rhythmic breathing let him know that she was still asleep. It was her first trip up to the cabin that summer. Her Paralegal courses kept her tied down to Chicago most of the time. They had arrived at the cabin late the night before. They stripped down for sex, but Glenda was so tired she asked for a rain check. Paul didn't mind. He understood why she was tired, and he felt fortunate just to have her lying naked beside him. 

While he waited for her to awaken, he thought how close he had been to losing her. Glenda was like few women that he knew. In a moment she could be a buddy in the cabin, laughing, drinking beer and playing cards. She could turn on a dime into a sultry temptress, and she knew just the right moment to do it. She sensed when he wanted a confidant, and the moments that he needed solitude. She would never lavish sympathy on him or betray is trust. She would pour out his own troubles to him, because she knew that he needed to take them on as his own.

Little-by-little Paul filled Glenda in on the details surrounding the Peoria Plant and all the players in the episode. It was mostly a sad tale of broken lives, and a few mended ones; of betrayal and disillusionment; of struggle and desperation, and the escape of it. He never allowed her to explain why she had folded under Hopkins' torment, or run away from him when he wanted so much to help her. If had listened to her reasons, he would have had to judge them, and he wanted no part of it. They put the year of trial and torment in the past, but not forgotten.

Lost in his analysis of her, Paul failed to notice that Glenda was awake. She nudged him a little to let him know it. 

"Time for a morning swim." she whispered to him.

"It's raining." he answered.

"Are you afraid of getting wet?" she asked. "We're already dressed for it." She added, referring to their nakedness.

"I thought that we could stay here a while longer." he said, pulling her a fraction tighter against himself. At first, Glenda wondered what had happened to him, but then realized from the grin that he was stifling that he was testing her.

"Get those terrycloth robes out!" she insisted playfully.

"I already did." Paul answered. "They haven't been used for over a year, when you were here last time. They're hanging on the door."

They strode to the end of the dock where they let the robes slide to the wooden planks. They dove into the lake, one after the other. The water was a little warmer this year. They swam together. As their naked bodied would occasionally slide over one another they let their imaginations run free. They came together in an embrace and held the kiss as they slid under the water's surface where they broke apart. When they resurfaced he called to her.

"Follow me over here!"

They swam about thirty yards out toward the middle of the lake. Paul stopped and circled a bit and then found what he was looking for. At their distance from shore, the water should have been twelve or fifteen feet deep. Paul's feet found the rock and he stood on it. The water rose only midway to between his chest and navel. 

It was a secret rock, known only to him and Sally—now Glenda. It was a giant, underwater boulder deposited ages before by retreating glaciers. It had been saved there for them to use.

Paul held out his arms; Glenda swam to him. She did not hesitate, but wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He looked into her face and saw eagerness. His gaze drifted lower and he saw the small breasts that she had bared to him in a forest grove decades ago. She pulled him closer to kiss him. He held her to him with one hand and held a breast in the other. 

She felt his hardness pressing against her. She reached down to separate her lips and placed him inside her. They stayed that way for many minutes, allowing the gentle rocking of the waves to provide all the motion needed to slowly draw their pleasure over them. When they were done, they made their way to the cabin to prepare breakfast.

********** 

It had been a year to remember, and a good one to forget. It was lived in the wilderness and in the cities. The year brought sorrow and joy. Some lives had been ended, others shattered and a few renewed. There was the joy of discovery and the sorrow of loss. There were battles between good and evil, with neither side winning. There had been many defeats.

There was only one victory. Life went on for those determined to live it.

THE END 

************ 

Dear Readers,

At long-last "Chance Encounters" has ended. I hope that you enjoyed reading it. As always, I welcome your comments.

There are several characters in the story to whom I am sad to say 'good bye'. Perhaps they will appear again in the future.

Thanks for reading and best regards,

Autumn Writer



Chance Encounter Ch. 10



C's erection returned as he mentally relived the day Jose and Jean had sex. He found himself almost absentmindedly rubbing his penis. He knew it wouldn't take much effort on his part to climax again. While being so quick to climax had its drawbacks, masturbating wasn't one of them. In his youth his recuperative powers were noteworthy. Depending on his arousal he could climax, go soft, become erect again and climax again. One noteworthy evening Jean counted 5 such climaxes in less than an hour. He didn't keep score but she did. 

While she had no problem orgasming she didn't like to cum fast but to let it slowly build. She especially liked long sessions of cunnilingus. She would purposely delay her orgasm. While she liked the peak what she really loved was the long climb.

C thought back to that night at Jean's house. After her parents left she took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. She told him to get a towel, directed him to spread it out on her bed, stripped, got on the bed and told him to kneel. He was nervous, but his desire for her was greater than his fear of them being caught. The risk was small. He also sensed Jean's read of her mom was on target. If they returned home she would call and give them fair warning.

He felt bad because her mother had no idea what Jean and he were up to. He hoped she never found out.

He scanned the length of Jean's body. Jose's mouth had left a bruise on her collarbone. He looked at her breasts which she was cupping with her hands, squeezing them, offering them to him. Her nipples were erect. Her left breast had what he knew was a bite mark made when Jose got carried away or at Jean's urging. He was learning so much about her, but what she desired from other men was so different than the lovemaking she wanted from him.

She loved him to be gentle, his touch to be delicate, soft. With Leo and now Jose gentle was out and rough was in. She wanted to be taken, not romanced. She wanted their fucking to be animal like, the mating of beasts instead of the gentle lovemaking of a committed couple.

She and he locked eyes, albeit briefly. She knew he was staring at Jose's bite marks. Her breasts were on display. She wanted him to look. Unlike the first time he saw another man's mark on her body there was no confusion on his face. There was also no hurt in his eyes. She looked at his powder blue sweat bottoms. The front of them was tented. His arousal she interpreted as approval if not his blessing for her infidelity. She didn't consider herself a dishonest or disloyal girlfriend, just a physically unfaithful one. Never for a minute did she not want to be his girlfriend. Her love for him had actually intensified.

He looked at her abdomen thinking how he was going to kiss his way from her navel and head south wondering if she was pregnant and perversely hoping she was carrying another man's baby. He couldn't explain it if he tried, but he was glad she understood him. More importantly he was happy she had the same obsession. She wanted to breed with another man.

His eyes continued their southward scan. He hoped she never shaved because he loved her abundant thatch of pubic hair. He saw it as lush, like the genitals it framed. Jean took her hands from her breasts and moved them to her crotch. She spread her labia revealing a sea of wet pink flesh. 

She asked him if he wanted to put his mouth where Jose's cock had been. He answered yes. 

"Good, because I need you to. I've been thinking about your soft tongue for hours." 

He smiled but said nothing. It was nice to hear unabashed praise. There was no phoniness; his mouth was better than good, it was great. He liked being desired for the pleasure he could actually bring her. He didn't want her telling him she needed his cock because it would be a lie. They both knew the truth so there was no sense in lying. It wouldn't stoke his ego, but make him question the veracity of everything else she said.

He found himself salivating at the thought of eating her. He really adored the taste, smell, and texture of her pussy, but his oral obsession didn't end there. He was he thought extremely oral; there wasn't a part of Jean's body he didn't want to kiss, lick, or nibble. Thankfully it was the same attention she craved from him. He remembered the internal debate he had over her rose colored anus. Her initial reaction when he put his lips against her butthole was to pull away, to tell him no. It was one of the few times he restrained her. He felt her tense up.

And then he licked her asshole. Whatever inhibitions she had vanished the instant his tongue caressed her anus. She not only moaned but drew her knees higher to her chest, tilting her pelvis, making it easier for his mouth to explore with his tongue her newly discovered erogenous zone. He soon had her begging for him to eat her asshole.

There wasn't a part of her his mouth hadn't kissed or licked. He and she concluded his being oral defined him sexually and their sexual relationship.

She viewed what he did with his mouth as compensation for what he couldn't deliver with his penis, sexual pleasure.

He remembered staring at her vaginal opening. She pulled her skin tighter. It was impossible for him not to picture Jose's cock entering, his flesh making hers give way. He wondered if she was sore; her vaginal tissue was more red than deep pink. 

"Come and kiss it. I need to be licked."

He wanted to eat her, but in those days there was an internal battle going on between the man and the cuckold. The man in him wanted to reclaim his territory, to deposit his seed where another man had trespassed. He decided he was going to fuck her first. He had fucked her after she had been with Leo, the policeman she was also seeing. It didn't erase the pain of her wanting Leo's cock over his, but it did make him feel she still desired his penis even if it brought her nothing but psychological and emotional pleasure. 

He started to pull the sweatshirt off. She asked, "What are you doing?"

"Getting naked Jean. I want to go in you."

She protested, "We can't both be naked. If someone comes home one of needs to be dressed to give the other time to get dressed. Wouldn't you say it makes more sense for me to be the one without clothes on?"

He pouted, "Jean, I want to cum too. With you."

She really didn't want his penis inside her. She couldn't explain it. She loved him and she adored his undersized manhood. She even treasured the intercourse they shared, his hips thrusting and the onset of his climax a few minutes later, but not that night. She didn't want him to replace the earlier memory of Jose taking her on the pallet piled high with bags of flour. She had been a bitch in heat and he a stud dog. Hours later and all she could think about was Jose and the fucking he had given her. She wanted to go to bed dreaming of Jose's cock thrusting in and out of her, not her boyfriend's.

Call it woman's intuition or a gut feel but she knew what was driving her boyfriend's desire for intercourse. It was his instinct as an animal, not his intellect or personality. His subconscious told him all he had to do was mate, deposit his seed in Jean's womb, and that would negate Jose's seed. 

She offered a solution, one he always found satisfactory in the past. 

"I want you to cum with me too. Rub yourself as you eat me."

She had several backup plans in case he balked. She would dress, have him strip, then suck him, but she really didn't want too see him naked. His body didn't turn her off, but the night's focus was on her pleasure and on tutoring her boyfriend. She sought to build on the earlier lessons of the day. She had enjoyed breaking him down and building him up, but her intent was not to make him miserable, but malleable. She had a vision of what she wanted in a life mate. He possessed the perfect physical, emotional, and genetic makeup. She saw herself as a coach and he as an unschooled athlete. He needed someone to bring out his potential and she was that woman.

It was easier than she thought. She looked at him as he silently debated her offer. She hadn't refused him, but given him an out. His submissive side won out; reasserting his ownership, marking her as his just didn't seem as compelling. He was content with his status. 

He answered her by staying clothed and kneeling between her legs. She opened her thighs wide; he could see an inch, maybe two into her canal. 

"Kiss it. You know you want to. Put your lips against it. Go ahead and think of Jose's big cock as it slid into me. I'm so sore. I need your soft tongue to make it all better."

Kiss it he did, his lips to her labia. He glued his mouth to her vagina and thrust out his tongue, french kissing her. He wished his tongue was long because he really craved going into her as deep as Jose's and Leo's cocks had.

She responded to his frenching with words of encouragement, telling him how good it felt, and she relayed to him bits and pieces of her encounter with Jose, revealing how she discarded her bra and panties in the bathroom, stuffed them into her purse, how they embraced once inside the storage room, how she removed her dress revealing herself totally nude, how he fucked her with his underwear on, his cock sticking out of its fly like a home grown cucumber, but his wasn't green but deep purple. It was also much better than any cucumber she had ever masturbated with. She described her initial orgasm when he pushed into her and the really big one at the end.

He didn't just fuck her. He ravished her, pounding her vagina hard, then slow, then hard again. He pumped his cock in and out of her the entire time. He never stopped moving. When his movements were so small as to be almost imperceptible he kept his mouth glued to her, his tongue thrust into her mouth, snaking down her throat. She was gasping for air and more of his tongue when he broke from their kiss.

He kissed down her neck, then bit her shoulder causing her to cry out. She offered him her breasts and when he clamped his mouth on her left one she moaned for him to suck harder. When he nibbled it she implored him to bite harder. She maneuvered her vagina up and down his manpole rolling her hips up and down. His cock she told him felt wonderful.

Jose began pulling nearly all the way out before plunging his cock all the way back in. His pubic bone ground against her clitoris. They fucked, she had no idea for how long, and her orgasm built. She sensed his was also approaching.

He asked her if she wanted him to pull out reminding her he had no condom. She said no. He commented she must be on the pill. She said she wasn't. He warned her she might get pregnant. She said she didn't care if she did. She was certain of one thing; she wanted him to cum in her.

And so he did. They kept moving until she was certain he hadn't a single drop left to empty into her. Whether it was psychological or physical she swore she could feel when a man came into her. Their cum wasn't the same temperature as her body's, but hotter. Its wetness was different, thicker than her juices.

Her girlfriends told her she was crazy, but she swore it was true.

She didn't know what to say but to thank him for such a wonderful experience. Jose's cock was shiny with their juices. He tucked it back into his pants before she could offer to clean it with her mouth. She fished her panties and bra out and dressed. He watched her, told her she had a really nice body, and wondered if she would be back or willing to meet him somewhere for an encore. She thanked him, but told him she would like that, but didn't know if it was possible. He relayed to her an observation, that she and her boyfriend had engaged in this sort of behavior before. To his surprise she told him no, that this was her first time. Based on how good it had been she was sure it wouldn't be her last. He found it difficult to believe her boyfriend approved much less got aroused by it, but she assured him he did or she wouldn't have done it.

He said he wished he had more time, but there were customers. She said she did too but she needed to get to her boyfriend and she had errands to run for her mother. They didn't hug or kiss goodbye; when she was dressed he escorted her back through the kitchen. He stayed behind while she went to her boyfriend who was sitting in a booth patiently waiting.

C didn't want Jean's tale to end. He could he thought listen to it for hours, having her repeat it again and again. He was so aroused and by her groans and moans so was she. It wouldn't be but a few minutes before she came. He reached down between his legs and began to rub his penis.

She orgasmed holding the back of his head pressing it against her as he licked her guiding it to where she needed him to lick. He rubbed harder and as he came his licks were almost feverish. He let out a loud groan muffled by her flesh.

When it was over she told him how good he had made her feel. She asked to see the front of his sweats. A big wet spot was visible. She commented on the quantity of his cum. She asked him if he enjoyed her talking and he told her he did. She said she worried it might put him in a funk. He told her it wouldn't. She asked him to tell her if the details were too much. She knew in spite of being aroused it had to be difficult hearing the intimate details of his girlfriend as she and another man had sex. 

He told her he had come to grips with his small penis. If sharing her was necessary to keep her happy and satisfied he would continue to support sharing her. His words were so sweet she was half tempted to give him a pity fuck, but suppressed acting on it. It was more important for him to feel unworthy than to reward him. 

She sat up and hugged him. She kissed him marveling at how good a kisser he was. She hadn't kissed many men, but most weren't good kissers. He was the exception. She asked him if he wanted to suck her tits. He told her yes. She held them in front of him. He compared the ravaged left with the unmarked right. He put his mouth on her right breast. He had she thought a sweet way of sucking her breasts. After a few minutes she reminded him to not forget her left breast, but to be careful as Jose had been rough. She groaned when he put his mouth on her left nipple.

She looked at the radio clock. They had plenty of time. She told him she wanted to be eaten again. She lay back down and he lowered his mouth to her sex. She didn't talk to him preferring to just enjoy the pleasure of his tongue. While he ate her she daydreamed about Jose and Leo fucking her. What really got her juices flowing was the idea of conceiving with either man. 

She wasn't the only one in her own little world; between her legs slowly making love to her vagina he was replaying images of Jose and Leo with Jean. He knew it was wrong, but secretly hoped she was pregnant. What he didn't find arousing was breaking the news to her parents. He wanted them to like him, not hate him for ruining their daughter's life and robbing her of her virtue. He might be a hero to Jean, but in their eyes he would be lower than whale shit. Images of their cocks thrusting in and out of Jean's vagina and picturing them cumming inside her, seeing their seed planted where her vagina ended and uterus began, her cervix coated with their fertilizer, hearing and feeling Jean's approaching orgasm, and the taste and feel of her soft womanhood prompted his second orgasm of the evening. He again sprayed the inside of Jean's borrowed panties. 

Jean was reaching orgasm as he climaxed. When she calmed down she was going to offer him a handjob. Needless to say she was thrilled to discover he had experienced a spontaneous ejaculation brought on he told her by what he was doing with his mouth, how she was responding, and her activities with Leo and now Jose.

They ended up spending the rest of the evening at the kitchen table playing board games and cards and talking about school and their future together. When it was time to pick up her sister he changed into his clothes and as Jean requested left her cum soaked panties and sweat pants on top of the washing machine.

He asked her how she intended to explain the panties. She doubted it would be an issue, but if it did she would remind her mother his underwear needed washing so he borrowed a pair of hers as he couldn't wear her sweats without them.

He left before her parents returned. In between feverish kisses Jean reminded him how much she loved him, how much she wanted to marry him, and his promises to her. He knew what they were doing was sheer insanity and more than a little dangerous, but its allure was too powerful. He told her he loved her too, wanted to marry her, was finding it harder to wait, thought they could make it work even if she was pregnant, and thanked her for exploring her sexuality. By doing so he was discovering more about what made him tick emotionally, psychologically, and sexually. He was positive no other woman would understand him the way she did. She agreed but said she was in the same boat. Men like him who understood her needs were a rarity. They agreed their meeting was fortuitous.

He drove north back to school while Jean drove a few miles to pick up her sister. It would be weeks before they saw each other again. 

Several hours later he was back at his apartment and exhausted. He unpacked his suitcase, stripped off his clothes, and climbed into bed naked. The instant he closed his eyes he pictured Jose and Jean fucking. He masturbated, cumming all over his stomach, and fell asleep.

In the shower the next morning the urge to masturbate struck again. Soaping up his penis he began stroking it. He closed his eyes thinking of Jean boldly stripping in front of Jose, he guiding her to the pallet piled high with bags of flour, she laying down her legs open wide, he getting on top of her, his hand on his cock guiding it into Jean's hungry vagina. He came, grunting as he did. He opened his eyes to watch his cum go down the shower drain. 

He finished showering. As he toweled himself dry a few minutes later he felt both relaxed and irritated. The climax was great, but his lack of control bothered him. He had barely started replaying their intercourse when his balls tightened, his penis throbbed, and cum shot out. It explained why Jean cheated on him. He sucked at fucking.

He didn't beat himself up over it, but his lack of both size and stamina was something he constantly thought about. At least he thought they were mature enough to find a satisfactory compromise. He wondered what would happen after they married. It was one thing to cheat while dating. Jean was devout. He didn't think she could commit adultery after they were husband and wife. He was pretty certain he didn't want her to either, but he also didn't want her sexually frustrated.

He decided when he had the time he would express to her in a letter his mixed feelings. The biggest hurdle he faced wasn't external, but internal. If given an ultimatum he was certain Jean would forgo other men. Out of love she would settle for his oral worship. Over time she would find contentment. She would look at their sexual relationship as one between an able bodied person (her) and a handicapped one (him). He was doing the best he could given his handicaps (small penis and premature ejaculation). She was having great orgasms; they just lacked variety. Still, an orgasm was an orgasm.

Jean wasn't the problem, but he was. For every minute he found himself tortured by Jean's infidelity and his inadequacies he spent 10 minutes imagining Jean riding another man's cock. Those thoughts were a constant. His penis was raw from his constant masturbation. No sooner would he climax and his mind clear than a few minutes later thoughts of Jean and Leo or Jean and Jose would creep back in. He would find himself stroking his manhood all the while thinking not of he and Jean, but Jean with other men. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 10



Six days after he and Jean last saw each other he woke early, and went for a long run. He thought about when Jean and he first met and how their relationship took the detour it did. Back then he wasn't known as C, short for carino or cornudo (depending on the audience), but Miguel.



Chance Encounter Ch. 11



Before she and everyone else started calling him C, he went by Miguel. Hearing it the first time surprised everyone. His parents hailed from the Piney Woods and were pure country. How they ended up in barrio was no mystery. A coworker of his dad's took the recent immigrants under his wing and under his roof. The neighborhood was only slightly wealthier than the projects abutting it, but safe. The houses were cinder block set on a concrete slab. It wasn't a big house, but it was a happy house. His mother was a waitress at a truck stop and his dad an auto mechanic. His parents named him Miguel out of respect for the man, Miguel Flores, who befriended him when he and his very pregnant wife first showed up looking for work and a roof over their heads.

His Anglo family lived in a sea of brown. Growing up it was never an issue. He was bilingual as were his two brothers. All their friends were of Mexican heritage. His first trips with other families weren't north but south across the Rio Grande where he stayed in little towns in 2 room houses where 8 people slept in the same room where everyone shared a bed. It was he reflected a great childhood. He considered himself more Mexican than Anglo. 

He rarely mixed with Anglos. At track meets he didn't mingle with them, but beat them. He was fast and he had endurance. His nickname was El Conejo, the rabbit.

College was an eye opener. He didn't fit in. Anglo or Mexican he had little in common with most of the students as their families were much more affluent. Over time he found others who felt like he did, out of place, the proverbial square peg in a round hole.

He met Jean in college; she was a freshman. He was in graduate school attending a different university, but stopped by to visit friends and walk the campus. He was in the university cafeteria when he first noticed her. She had her back to him and was walking to the cafeteria line. She wore white sandals, yellow painter pants, and a sleeveless blue shirt. She had he thought the perfect ass. Her cheeks were meaty perched on top of muscular thighs and calves. Each time she shuffled forward her cheeks strained against the yellow material. Out of habit she tightened her buttocks; he swore he could clearly see their shape as the light cotton material left little to the imagination. He wondered if she knew just how thin her pants were. He couldn't help but stare.  

An instant later she vanished from his view. Someone at the table said something causing him to look away from the exit. The next time he saw her she was carrying a tray, heading straight towards him. She was he thought beautiful. Her front was every bit as good as her backside. She had deep blue eyes, long straight brown hair parted in the middle, a patrician nose, high cheekbones, a strong yet feminine chin, perfectly proportioned lips. She made eye contact with him and smiled. He smiled back wondering if she was smiling at someone behind him. Her eyes weren't looking over him but at him. 

She stopped at his table.

She smiled, "You have this whole table to yourself. Would you mind sharing it with me?"

"Of course not."

She set her tray down. "I'm Jean."

"I'm Miguel."

She looked at him wondering if he was trying to be funny. He certainly didn't look like a Miguel. She decided to see if he was bluffing.

"Mucho gusto Miguel."

"El gusto es mio."

She and he continued to speak Spanish, but after a few minutes she was exhausting her Spanish as it wasn't something she spoke very often. She thought he must be a Spanish major. Finally, she asked him if he was joking or was his name really Miguel.

"Jean, swear to God, it is. My parents named me Miguel after a friend of theirs. He's my padrino."

He intrigued her and he was easy to talk to. She didn't know if he was shy or aloof. He acted interested in her. She finished eating and they chatted until her next class. She left telling him she hoped to see him around.

On her way to class she thought he was way too cute. He probably had a girlfriend. She hoped they would talk again. 

He was thinking the same thing. She was he thought a goddess. He still couldn't believe she sat down at his table. The cafeteria he noted had plenty of open tables. Beautiful women didn't normally seek him out. 

Later Jean ran into her cousin who was also attending college. She told him about meeting Miguel. It turned out her brother knew Miguel. She advised Jean to avoid him. He was she cautioned a womanizer, very smart, but a med school dropout with a drug habit.

Jean wondered if they were talking about the same man. She decided to find out for herself. At a campus party a few days later she saw him surrounded by several women dressed in tight clothes, barefoot, with long hair, and way too much makeup. They looked to her like sluts. He looked to be having a good time, too good a time. 

A short while later she went to get a drink and spotted him sitting on the grass. He was alone. She walked over to him and asked if he would share the shade. She sat down. She was nervous. She did most of the talking trying to find out more about him. He was she found out tipsy, but not sloppy.

The more they talked the more she wanted to know him better. She hoped he asked her out. Several hours passed. He got them drinks. She watched him thinking he was thin. She felt big around him. She wondered if she weighed more than him. She loved his smile and his blue eyes. She thought his blond hair was too long.

She had to leave and attend class. She asked if he had another class to attend. He told her he wasn't in school, just hanging out. She remembered her cousin's warning. She hoped it wasn't true. She told him she hoped she would see him again. He said he would be around, but was sure they would run into each other. She wondered if he was interested in her. It was obvious to her he liked talking to her, but he didn't seem overly eager to pursue her. She sensed he was physically attracted to her. She saw him looking at her. She wondered if he had a girlfriend. 

She ran into him again a few days later sitting outside. She told him about a party being thrown by a mutual friend of theirs and wondered if he was coming. He said he didn't know, but the party sounded good. She knew she was sending the right signals. He had to be an idiot to not see she liked him so why wasn't he more enthusiastic.

Friday night came and Miguel showed up at the party with another woman. She was the reason he wasn't pursuing her. She watched them and it was soon obvious they weren't dating. She made up an excuse to approach him. She asked who the woman was. He told her she was his ride. He explained how he had ended up in a friend's apartment, fell asleep, and woke up to discover his friends had left. He didn't have his car with him. The phone rang; it was the woman he showed up with. She was bored. He told her about the party. She said she would give him a ride. End of story.

Jean and he stayed inseparable for the rest of the party. His friend said she was going home. Jean volunteered to drive Miguel home. He asked if she was sure as he lived out of the way. She told him she was sure. She felt safe as she wouldn't be alone with him. She had gone to the party with her girlfriends. 

They left the party as it wound down. He sat up front between she and her cousin. She commented she was hungry and wondered if he was too. He said he was. They stopped at a diner and ate. She could tell all her friends thought he was both nice and cute. She found herself feeling jealous when several of them flirted with him. She considered him hers. 

After they ate she decided to get rid of her friends and dropped them off first. She knew her parents would be mad if they found out, but she wanted to be alone with Miguel.

It was late and while she was a college student she still lived at home and under her parents' rules. She had a curfew. She suspected Miguel didn't. She wondered if he would make fun of her. In the car there was space between them. She thought about asking him to sit closer, but didn't want to sound needy or too aggressive.

She looked at him and wished she had more time. She wanted to have a makeout session with him. She jumped for joy inside when he reached out and took her hand in his. They didn't hold hands, but gripped them. 

"Sit closer."

He moved over.

"That's better."

He told her when to turn, but she wasn't really observing the landmarks or the telltale signs he lived across the tracks, in a world very different from hers.

He lived on a main street, but it was empty. She parked along the street.

She killed the lights and turned off the engine. They sat their holding hands, both hesitant to make the first move. She said she needed to be going and told him about her curfew. She wondered if he would make fun of her, but he didn't. He only said he didn't want her to be in trouble because of him.

She opened the door and holding his hand exited the car literally towing him with her. An outsider seeing them would have thought it strange to see the woman escorting the man to his door, but that's what she did.

They were standing holding hands looking at each other when he asked, "Jean, I had a good time."

"Me too."

"Would you like to go out?"

"I'd like that very much."

And then he totally surprised her. He put his arms around her. She returned his hug. Her breasts flattened against his chest. Instead of keeping her crotch separated from his, she was drawn to do the opposite. She wanted him to feel the fire between her legs. 

He kept his eyes locked on hers. She continued to hug him, but he removed his arms from around her waist and taking his hands gently cupped each side of her face. He thanked her for inviting him and pressed his lips to hers. It was she thought the gentlest and sexiest first kiss ever. No tongue, just two pairs of lips meeting for a brief time. 

She suppressed a groan. She didn't know why, but Miguel was triggering in her lustful desires. 

She told him she had to go, but she made no move to take her arms from around him. He moved his hands from her face and returned to hugging her. Both thought how good it felt to embrace.

He reminded her before kissing her a second time it was late and she had a curfew. 

They separated and he escorted her to her car opening the door for her and closing it after she sat down. 

He was as taken with her as she with him. She started the car and was about to drive off when she realized she hadn't given him her number. She looked in her purse, found a pen and a scrap of paper, wrote her name and phone number.

She handed it to him, "Here Miguel. Call me."

"I will," he promised.

She drove off, but not before he gave her directions back to the highway. He cautioned her streets just blocks from his were unsafe. She said she would be careful. Leaving his neighborhood she noticed for the first time its shabbiness. 

She didn't care Miguel was from the other side of the tracks, el barrio. All she knew was she liked him, liked him alot. 

Jean would tell him much later about what she experienced that night. It was the first time in her life she truly felt sexually aroused. She felt as though her crotch was a swamp and her breasts felt swollen, her nipples painfully hard. 

She didn't know it, but her effect on Miguel was just as strong. He masturbated that night dreaming of Jean. She was more than pretty; there was a decency about her. She was friendly and nice. He knew she liked him, but he didn't know how much.

He couldn't wait to see her again.

Jean replayed her first kiss with Miguel again and again. Thinking about it aroused her. She hadn't dated much and she hadn't kissed many boys, but none had the impact of Miguel's kiss. Her memories of those dates were lousy kisses, lots of tongue, and unsuccessful attempts by those boys to get inside her bra or panties. They all behaved as though sex was a given. When they discovered she wanted an emotional relationship prior to a sexual one they dropped her.

She knew she was pretty. She knew she was strong willed. She knew she was a leader. She just wondered why all the boys and men she ran into were so shallow. She seemed to date men who were her mirror opposites, handsome, strong willed, arrogant, dominant. The biggest problem is they were too much like her. They didn't connect emotionally so there was no connecting physically.

Miguel she sensed was different.

He called and they began to date. She determined their itinerary, picking the activity, where they ate, and most importantly what they did physically. He seemed perfectly content to go as slow as she desired.

She wanted someone as new to dating as she was. She discovered he hadn't dated often, had never been serious with a girl, and was a virgin. When he looked at her she got goosebumps. She noticed the only woman he even glanced at was her. 

On their third date she initiated their first french kiss. To her delight she discovered he was a very good kisser. She teased him about being so good. He swore it just came naturally. He had been told he was a good kisser, but no explanation as to why followed. She told him what he did that made him such a good kisser. His kisses were wet, but not too wet. His tongue probed, but not too deep. He moved his tongue around. She liked the feel of their tongues caressing and exploring each other. 

Both Jean and Miguel lacked sexual experience. What differentiated them was Jean's naivete. She had never pleasured herself whereas Miguel masturbated frequently. She had read little about sex while Miguel had read everything he could get his hands on. He knew what to expect and he understood sexual practices were varied; there was no right or wrong, just what did and didn't feel good. Normal didn't count for much in the sex department.

It was easier for Jean to learn with someone as inexperienced as her, but he also needed to be patient. She didn't want to be rushed. Miguel she found let her set the pace. He displayed the right amount of aggression.

As she and he french kissed she also encouraged Miguel to feel more of her clothed body. She took his hand off of her hip and moved it to her butt. He got the message and as they kissed both of his hands squeezed and rubbed her ass. She also became aware of his erection feeling it against her as he pulled her towards him.

She loved the feel of his hands on her ass. She whispered as they were standing by the curb in her front yard, "What you're doing feels so sexy. It makes our kisses even hotter."

A few minutes later Miguel got to feel Jean's breast. She suggested they lay on the ground. She lay on her back and he lay atop her. She took his hand as they kissed and placed it on her breast. Covered by a bra and a blouse Miguel didn't care. All he thought was how magnificent it felt. The perfect size and heft. He gently massaged it and she reacted by squirming. He increased the pressure causing her to groan even as their mouths were glued together. Using his thumb and forefinger he located her erect nipple and rolled it. Her kissing became frantic as did her squirming. Her pelvis seemed to have a mind of its own. Only his upper body was on top of her. He was tempted to take his hand from her breast and place it between her thighs.

He didn't as he was determined to let her set the pace for the physical side of their relationship. He didn't want her to even think he was after her for sex. From the way she talked just allowing his hands to roam on her clothed body was a huge step.

They saw each other alot over the next few weeks. Their makeout sessions began to consume more of their time together. His hands remained outside her clothes but she made it clear he was free to touch to his heart's content. She especially liked it when he placed his hand between her jeans clad thighs. She would close her legs and rub her crotch against his hand. He would press back. He noticed when she got excited their french kisses would go on forever. She would be gasping for air when they finally separated, but it wasn't from the kisses. 

Jean appreciated Miguel's patience. She wanted more and suspected he did too. She could feel his erection when they embraced. She had run her hands all over his body, but purposely avoided his crotch. 

Several weeks into their makeout sessions, Jean witnessed her first orgasm. She an Miguel were laying on the front lawn of her house, bodies pressed against one another when he became too aroused and climaxed. She honestly didn't know what was happening. Miguel began to breathe harder and groaned. His climax took him by surprise as much as it did her. It came out of nowhere. When he felt it approaching he didn't pull away, but pressed hard against Jean's crotch. His cum shot out in a series of rapid fire contractions aimed directly at the split in her peach.

After he came he felt it necessary to explain what had transpired. He used the word accident to describe his climax. She thought he had wet his pants. He told her no and explained what he meant by accident. I clasped her tight around the waist and pressed her crotch against me. 

She wasn't upset with him, but ecstatic. She thrilled knowing she had that affect on him. She asked him to describe how it felt. She told him she often felt the same way while they made out. She really had no idea she could climax too. She thought the way she was feeling meant she needed to urinate. She explained how wet her panties and jeans were after their makeout sessions. She would wonder if she had accidentally wet her pants, but she knew the source of that wetness was her vagina, not her urethra.

She didn't tell him, but his climax made her want the same. In bed at night she found herself exploring her genitals. Spreading her labia with a finger she would find it quickly covered with her vaginal secretions. She took her lubricated finger and moved it higher locating her clitoris. She would rub it getting more excited, but not long or with enough pressure to make herself orgasm. She didn't know why, but she was afraid of what would happen. 

She had been wanting to do more with Miguel, but thought after kissing the only thing left was intercourse and she didn't want to get pregnant. Seeing him climax and masturbating in bed made her realize they could both get alot of pleasure without fucking.

She still wanted to take it slow, but she decided it was time she let Miguel inside her clothes. 

On their next date she wore a shirt that buttoned in front. A few minutes into their makeout session she placed his hand on her breast and whispered to him to unbutton her shirt. She was nervous, but noticed he was alot more as his fingers literally shook as he undid the buttons of her shirt. He unbuttoned her entire shirt completely exposing her torso. He caressed her now exposed abdomen. She took his hand and placed it on her bra covered breast. He played with one then the other breast. A few minutes later she pulled away. Sounding both frustrated and aroused, she leaned forward and asked him to undo her bra. He reached behind her and after a half minute figured out how to unsnap her bra.

He then pulled the cups away from her breasts. Even though it was dark outside there was enough light from a nearby street lamp for him to see her breasts for the first time. They were peach-sized and much paler than the rest of her torso; the nipples were small, very pink, and fully erect. He caressed them as they kissed. She lay down on the ground and pulled him on top of her. She opened her legs. He could feel the heat emanating from her crotch. As they kissed she began to rub her crotch against his. He rubbed back and they dry humped each other. He told her he was getting very excited and didn't want to cum in his pants but she encouraged him to go ahead. He came.




Chance Encounter Ch. 11



Playing with her breasts and dry humping her became their routine for the next half dozen dates. With experience he became very adept at manipulating her breasts. She particularly liked him to twist and pull on her nipples. He would take a nipple between his thumb and two fingers and make a rolling motion. One evening as he kissed the side of her neck she pushed his head down. He kissed the top of her breast and looked at her. She said nothing. He took her silence as permission. He put his mouth on her breast and began to gently suck on it. He flicked her very hard nipple with his tongue. She moaned. He decided her other breast needed the attention of his mouth and quit sucking. She reacted pleading with him to stop. He assured her he wasn't about to. She actually sighed when he began sucking her other breast.

He spent the next half hour alternately kissing, sucking, and licking each of her breasts. He couldn't get enough of her tits and she couldn't get enough of his mouth. They again concluded the evening simulating intercourse by rubbing their crotches together until he came. 

They entered a new phase in their relationship. Playing with her breasts and rubbing their crotches together became a mainstay of their makeout sessions. He knew the contact of his crotch against hers excited her, but he knew she would never feel half as good as he did. There was too much clothing between them. Jean's curiosity was getting the better of her. She wanted to know what would happen if she let her excitement peak. She wanted to experience an orgasm.

She wasn't ready for skin on skin contact. The temptation to go all the way would have been too great. She did decide, however, she needed to retire her jeans. Mexican peasant dresses were the rage and she had a half dozen in various colors. The dress had no buttons or zippers. It went to her knees but wasn't tight except across her chest and ass, but she noted in a visually pleasing way. 

The material was thick enough that she could go without a bra or panties. People would see her breasts bounce as she walked or that the cheeks of her ass seemed fleshier, but that was it. As for accessing her breasts, it was simple enough for Miguel to lift her dress exposing as much as she wanted him to. She knew the second he lifted her dress he was going to also see her unclothed with the exception of skin covered by her panties. She was ready she told herself to let him see more.

She also decided it was time to quit making out in the front seat of her car or on the ground at her house. She asked her friends if they knew of a place to park near her house. Surprisingly, they didn't. 

On their next date after dinner and a movie she told Miguel she wanted to go somewhere else to make out, but she didn't know where. They drove by several locations but they lacked privacy or looked private, but unsafe. Miguel spotted an elementary school and noticed it had a road leading to the rear of the school.

Jean drove into the lot feeling apprehensive but excited at the prospect of being really alone with Miguel. It was empty. She parked the car. She turned towards Miguel and began kissing him. As they made out she looked around and decided it was safe. She asked Miguel if he thought it was safe and he told her thought it was, but if she wanted to leave he would understand.

She said, "No, I want to stay. I want to be alone with you." A few long kisses later she suggested they move to the back seat. She explained it would be less cramped. 

They resumed making out. Miguel had gotten in the habit of unbuttoning her top, unsnapping her bra, and going for her breasts, but he made no such move. She asked him if anything was wrong. He said no. She immediately knew there was. He was waiting for her to tell him. She thought his reticence was really sweet.

"Miguel, put your hands under my dress."

He did. She decided to straddle his lap. His hands raised her dress, undid her bra, freed her tits from their cups, and marveled at their beauty before taking one into his mouth. She loved the feel of his mouth on her breasts. She also loved the feel of his hands as they kneaded her buttocks. Less clothing was so much better she thought. She told him to slide his hands under her panties but cautioned that was the extent of his liberty. She was swimming in her juices as his hands kneaded her bare flesh, pulling her cheeks apart. She felt wonderfully exposed. A half inch closer and any of his fingers could touch her anus. 

He was obviously as excited as she so when she said she wanted him on top of her he didn't hesitate. She got off of him as he scooted towards the door. She lay down, her dress pulled high, exposing her bare torso, nylon covered crotch, and honey colored bare legs. 

As he got on top of her she fought the temptation to give him her virginity right then and right there. She desired him so so much. They resumed kissing, but not before she told him in an apologetic tone she wasn't leading him on. She said she desired him, but wasn't ready. He told her it was okay. Whatever she wanted to do was fine with him.

She signaled him to rub against her by moving her crotch against him. The moment they made contact her initial thought was just how much better it felt to dry hump only wearing panties. 

Their humping became faster and more urgent. While it felt better than before it would take a long time for her to orgasm. She was okay with not orgasming because she liked knowing Miguel was climaxing. He was hitting all the right spots but he simply didn't last long enough. 

After he climaxed he remained on top of her. Between kisses and sucking her breasts she told him she liked looking at him the moment he came. She also asked him to describe his orgasm. He told her how his penis got harder and harder, how it seemed to swell, how his testicles tightened, how the little twitches in his penis signaled the onset of big contractions as his cum shot out, how his testicles felt tender afterwards.

She asked knowing the answer how good it felt.

"Great," he answered.

He knew he could give her the same pleasure she was giving him, but she needed to let him use his fingers. He also knew it was her decision so he kept quiet.

Jean wasn't frustrated with Miguel but herself. She wanted to climax, but she also didn't want to get tempted to have intercourse and end up pregnant. Several dates later she took action.

They were in Miguel's car. It was a hatchback with a fold down back seat. For such a little car it's cargo area was roomy and perfect for two people to use as a bed. 

They wasted little time getting in the back of the car. Her bra was soon off and he began to play with her breasts as they kissed. It wasn't long before she was underneath him, legs open wide, moving her crotch against his. She broke from their kiss and in a voice barely above a whisper told him to take his pants off, but to leave his underwear on. 

He didn't need a second invitation. In seconds his pants were down below his knees and they were again rubbing crotches. For him the experience was even better. For her it wasn't much of an improvement. She was glad however to hear him tell her good it felt. One worry weighed heavily on Jean's shoulders; Miguel would lose patience with her and move on to women who put out. She hoped the climaxes he was having were enough to keep him hers.

His briefs were thin as were her panties. She was also wet. He discovered just how wet when the head of his penis lodged between her labia. Her eyes got big because she knew how close he was to entering her. She didn't move away as she logically knew her panties and his briefs prevented penetration. She was also curious. She liked the feel of his penis snuggled between her labia. Her panties got wetter transferring their moisture to his briefs. His penis she noted was quite firm and his aim a little truer for in a flash her panties were pushed into her and his penis where it shouldn't be, the head a centimeter in her love tunnel.

It felt good, but not good enough to make her orgasm. She asked him if it felt good and he mumbled, "Fantastic."

She let him continue his shallow thrusting. She thought as he pumped, "So this is what intercourse will be like. We really are almost doing it." She felt changed inside, more adult. Her boyfriend was technically fucking her. His penis was partly inside her. She closed her eyes and imagined how good it would feel, how magical the moment, on their wedding night when they went all the way, and made a baby.

She thrust back against him and it wasn't long before she could feel the heat of his cum. She didn't think about it until later, but wondered if what they had done was too risky. Sperm were after all very small, he came alot, and his briefs and her panties were wet and he had actually cum inside her. She prayed, "God, please don't let me be pregnant."

Miguel wasn't frustrated or losing patience with Jean. He was crazy about her. She was fun to be with; they never ran out of things to talk about. He would never have guessed it, but he was drawn to her personality. She was a natural leader and he inclined to follow. Her comfort level and emotional satisfaction was greatest when they were doing what she suggested. He went along because he wanted to please her and because what she wanted to do wasn't contentious. Be it her choice of restaurants, movies, clubs, or parties he always ended up having a good time, made even better by their makeout sessions. 

She was always eager to be physically affectionate. She even told him she thought she had a high sex drive because she never tired of making out. She didn't want him to think she was a slut so she added, "Then again, it could be because you're such a great kisser."

Jean's fear of sperm making their way through his briefs and her panties didn't extinguish her desire for dry humping. She knew the odds were slim, but she also knew Miguel would do the right thing and marry her. She had complete faith in him. He didn't mind her asking what he did when he went out with his friends. She also noted his eyes didn't wander. His fidelity wasn't just important, but a great deal more. It meant he not only loved her, but he respected her enough not to hurt her.

She couldn't say the same about herself. In her first real relationship, one involving physical intimacy, she saw herself and others differently. She knew when men looked at her they were having sexual thoughts. Instead of being repulsed by what they were thinking it made her wet. She wasn't attracted to other men, not the way she felt drawn to Miguel, but she basked knowing they were attracted to her. Still a virgin, she knew what they wanted. They wanted to fuck her. She didn't want them to fuck her; the only one who would get that privilege was the man she married, but she liked knowing if she so desired she would have no trouble finding someone who wanted to put his penis in her. 

More dates and more humping ensued. She and Miguel cherished their partial intercourse, but she was getting no closer to feeling what he was. She had in the privacy of her bedroom continued exploring herself, but she didn't really focus on her clitoris. It was the spot that felt best when she touched it, but she was pretty sure her vagina held the key to her orgasm. Her clitoris played a secondary role. When she finally had a penis all the way in her vagina she would experience the bliss she saw on Miguel's face as he climaxed.

What happened a few dates later was not intentional. She simply got caught up in the moment. Miguel had humped her like he always did bringing her very close to orgasm. He moved off of her telling her how good it had felt. She smiled and told him to kiss her. Their mouths pressed together they began a long french kiss. She wanted to show him how wet he made her, how good his thrusts felt so she took his hand and placed it between her legs.

She looked at him continuing their kiss. He pressed his hand against her vulva. She was both hot and wet. He parted her panty covered labia and ran his finger upwards quickly locating what he knew must be her clitoris. Its shape reminded him of a speed bag or the clapper to a bell. He began to gently stroke it. Instead of breaking off their kiss Jean continued it. Her tongue was moving wildly. She had her hands on the back of his head. She began thrashing around as he worked her clitoris. What she was feeling was better than she ever thought possible.

A few minutes later she had her first ever orgasm. She thanked him afterwards telling him she had no idea something could make her feel so good. After a brief pause she asked him to do it again, grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs. She also went back to french kissing him. 

He was more than happy to oblige her. He liked having his mouth covering hers as she orgasmed. She would groan, but his mouth muffled her screams.

Her first orgasm marked a turning point in their relationship. His climaxes took a backseat to hers. She and he were more interested in getting her off than in dry humping. A few dates later she reached down and pulled her underwear to the side. It was all the invitation he needed. He loved the feel of her hot, wet, flesh and her erect clitoris. Her orgasms got even better.

She continued her quiet screams keeping her mouth pressed to his, but after a dozen more dates she confided in him her embarrassment at screaming. He told her she didn't need to be embarrassed. They had the parking lot to themselves most nights. Anyone else in the parking lot was doing the same thing and too busy to notice.

And moan, groan, babble, and scream she did. His fingers drove her crazy with pleasure. She wanted to be petted all the time. She even began to masturbate but the orgasms she gave herself just weren't as good as what Miguel gave her.

She hated the fact it stayed light so late. She couldn't wait until it was dark and they could be making out. The school parking lot was their secret hideaway. 

Something else was happening to her. Men were looking at her differently and she liked the attention. She wondered if they had been looking all along and she had been blind to their stares. She was in love with her boyfriend and she had no intention of dating others but she had to admit she liked how their looks made her feel.

She was proud of her body and she wanted Miguel to see all of it, but she also didn't want him to think she was ready for intercourse. On their next date she asked him to stop so she could use the bathroom. Inside the gas station restroom she took off her bra and panties, shoved them into her purse, and got back in the car. 

He drove them to their makeout session. After he stopped the car and killed the engine she told him, "I have a surprise for you. Promise me you'll keep your clothes on."

He told her he would.

He folded down the back seat. She got in laid down and he followed. He wondered what the surprise was. She told him to lift her dress. He slowly did.

"Higher," she said.

She lifted her buttocks as he raised her dress. He stared in awe at her upper thighs and gasped when he saw her labia framed with coal black hair. The rest of her forest soon came into view. He suspected she had alot of hair but he had no idea just how abundant her thatch was. He wanted to bury his face between her legs but didn't.

He kept raising the dress exposing her hard stomach. She was an inny he thought. Without thinking he leaned forward and softly kissed her navel. Jean groaned and whispered, "Higher, Miguel."

He raised her dress as high as it would go revealing her breasts which he greedily began to suck on. 

Jean wasn't through. "Higher," she implored, "All the way off." She had to sit up as he pulled her dress completely off of her. 

She laid back down and let his eyes feast on her body. The look on his face told her he was happy with what he saw. He didn't need to say anything but he did telling her she had a beautiful body.

"So you like it?"

"Like it. I love it."

"It's yours to explore Miguel. Just promise me you'll stay dressed."

"I will."

It was they both concluded their hottest makeout session ever.

After a half dozen orgasms courtesy of his fingers Jean changed her plans.

"Miguel, take off your pants, but leave your underwear on."

He did.

"Get on top of me."

He did.

"Pretend we're making love."

He did. They both couldn't believe what one less piece of clothing added to their simulated intercourse. His underwear covered penis was penetrating her a good inch. He swore he could feel her flesh. It didn't take him long to climax. He didn't pull away and if he had she would have kept him from pulling out. It was only after he came and then fingered her to a seventh orgasm they talked about how crazy they had been. 

While Miguel became quite expert at using his hands on Jean's body to give her the big O, Jean didn't reciprocate. Other than dry humping which wasn't very dry and could better be described as limited penetration Jean kept her hands away from Miguel's penis. She did so to avoid temptation because where she really wanted it was inside her. She also lacked confidence. Miguel she noted was so good at everything he did to her. He wasn't just a good kisser, but a great kisser. His fingers played her sex masterfully coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her. 

She liked him taking his shirt off and his pants. She thought he had a nice body; his running made him lean. She even saw his erection straining against his underwear and how the tent collapsed after he came, leaving behind a very large wet spot on his briefs. She liked the way he climaxed as she saw it as more akin to the sex act. She liked Miguel's petting but she thought once they had intercourse it wouldn't be necessary. Petting Miguel she thought couldn't be better than the orgasms he got humping her. 

Miguel was too much of a gentleman to place Jean's hand on his cock. They were progressing slow but he didn't care. A week before the school year began they both professed the same emotion; she said to him at nearly the same instant as he said to her, "I love you." Both had felt it, but had shied from admitting it aloud.

When Jean and Miguel met, none of what her cousin had told her was true. Miguel wasn't a player, nor an addict, but he had dropped out of grad school. He was now going back and after all their months together she wasn't looking forward to rarely seeing him. 

Her girlfriends were also pulling her. They thought she was too serious with Miguel as did her parents, but they also missed socializing with her. Since she and Miguel started dating she just didn't feel like being with them. 

Miguel's last day in town he spent with Jean, leaving late in the evening and after a long makeout session in the backseat of her car as his was piled high with his belongings. He had found an apartment, borrowed his dad's truck, and moved what little furniture he had the previous weekend. Jean asked him all about it and he told her it wasn't much of an apartment, one room, no kitchen, and a shared bathroom, but it was his new home. He used a hot plate to warm his food and it did have an ancient refrigerator painted black. 

Jean was happy to hear it wasn't a bachelor pad. She found herself getting jealous. Their spring and summer had been great, but it had also changed her. She no longer felt like a teenager even though she still was chronologically. She saw herself as a woman and a sexual one at that. She liked the way men looked at her. She thought Miguel was having the same feelings. She didn't want to cheat on Miguel or have another boyfriend, but she craved the feel of men pursuing her. It didn't matter if their chances of success were zero; it was all about the chase. She fretted Miguel would take his new found skills and use them on one of the girls where he went to school. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 11



The topic of dating others didn't come up. She didn't see the need because their profession of love was enough. She had no intention of dating and Miguel's school and work schedule weren't going to allow him time to date. When he had free time he was going to spend it with her. He didn't have a phone so they agreed to write. Neither of them knew how a long distance relationship would work out. Miguel approached it pragmatically. He would do his best to see her and keep his fingers crossed he wouldn't receive a Dear John letter. 

The first few weeks were the hardest, but they settled into a routine, writing to each other. It was Jean thought romantic. Her girlfriends and family filled the social void she had with Miguel's absence, but nothing seemed to fill the physical longing she had. She missed their makeout sessions. She missed kissing, having her breasts sucked and caressed, being petted, and laying under him as he thrust his underwear covered erection against her. She longed for sexual activity.



Chance Encounter Ch. 12



Miguel's bimonthly visits scratched her sexual itch, but weren't enough to keep her libido in check. Men hitting on her at bars, dance halls, and at school didn't help matters. She felt temptation's pull, but she also wasn't looking to replace Miguel with someone not so far away. She loved his letters and saw him in her future, but the separation vexed her. She was too young to stay home and her horniness was making her snappy.

Going out with her girlfriends helped as it filled the void Miguel's absence created but it also hurt as it heightened her sexual frustration. She was perpetually horny in need of relief, what she and Miguel now called the Big O. 

After talking, dancing, and flirting all night she and her girlfriends piled in a car and rather anticlimatically went to eat or to someone's house for an impromptu sleepover where they talked about the men they met earlier. A few showed phone numbers. There was teasing about the one or two who were gone for an awfully long time and their activities in the parking lot. 

She went to bed those nights aching for Miguel's kisses, his mouth on her tits, his talented fingers on her sex, and his penis, covered by his tighty whities, rubbing and thrusting against her genitals. Masturbation made her frustration worse, not better. 

She envied her friends who weren't dating someone and their visits to the parking lot. They didn't feel guilty because they didn't have boyfriends. They also weren't having sex, just doing alot of kissing and groping. It seemed like innocent fun. She wondered what they would say if she had a little fun of her own. She was fairly certain they wouldn't say anything. They might even feel relieved as they thought she and Miguel were being way too serious. Besides, they all believed Miguel was something she knew he wasn't, a player.

She was in a quandary. She didn't want to lose Miguel, but the weeks between his visits were too empty. When he called several days before and told her he couldn't come she was disappointed and angry. She tried her best to sound understanding. He was so apologetic. She knew he felt bad. She did her best not to make him feel worse. She told him she would hang out with her girlfriends. 

Friday night rolled around. Instead of being with Miguel she spent the evening with her parents. When her cousin invited her out the next night to go dancing she happily said yes. The dance hall they went to was crowded. The band was good and the dance floor big. She wore a long sleeved collared western shirt, jeans, and boots. She really didn't like jeans as she thought they made her butt and thighs too big. She had been an athlete in high school throwing the shot putt, discus, and javelin. She actually broke records in the discus and shot putt. Her power was in her legs and she had spent hundreds of hours in the gym making them stronger. Jeans didn't do justice to her legs or ass. 

She didn't wait long before being asked to dance. She was a good dancer and made it a point not to turn anyone down. She thought if they had worked up the courage to ask she should say yes. 

On that Saturday one man, a few years older than she, kept asking her to dance. He would leave her alone to dance with others, but about every 3rd or 4th song he was back at her table and they were soon out on the floor. He was a good dancer, nice enough, a little tipsy as he smelled of whiskey. As the evening progressed she wound up dancing exclusively with him. 

She found out he had a girlfriend. She told him she had a boyfriend. They were both in long distance relationships. She showed him a picture of Miguel and he a picture of his girlfriend. He was a senior at a private university. He too was wearing western clothes, but confessed he was no cowboy. He just liked country western music. 

After dancing to a series of songs she said she needed to make a trip to the restroom. He said he needed to also go. She didn't know how it happened, but instead of letting his hand go at the song's end, she held his hand as they headed to the restrooms. He cleared a path for them. 

The line wasn't long. When she finished peeing she wiped herself dry noting she was slick. She felt tugged in two directions, ashamed at being aroused and being drawn to him. She told herself nothing was going to happen because she wouldn't let it. She loved Miguel too much.

Standing in front of the mirror a minute later she admired her reflection as she brushed her hair. She felt flushed. She knew her nipples were hard. She smiled thinking she looked really good wishing Miguel was on the other side of the door. If he was she knew they wouldn't be dancing, but in the back seat of his car making out. 

She exited the restroom. He was standing there. He smiled when he saw her. She smiled back. He extended his hand and without thinking she put her hand out. They linked fingers as he pulled her towards him.

"I thought you'd gotten lost," he said.

"No, we have less stalls. That's all."

Jean was very aware of how close she was to him. He was nearly shouting because the music was loud. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She then felt horrible for having such a thought.

"Are you ready to dance some more?"

She answered, "Yes," but he noticed her voice lacked enthusiasm.

"Or do you want to go outside?"

He was staring at her waiting for an answer.

She looked back at him knowing what his invitation meant. She knew she should say no, but she answered, "Yes."

"Come on. I'll lead."

She put her hands on his hips and he worked their way through the crowd. A few minutes later they were outside.

He took her by the hand and said, "My car is over there."

His car looked new. He unlocked the door, opened it, and leaned the seat forward, "There's more room in the back."

She got in. He followed, closing the door behind him.

He turned towards her putting an arm around her. 

She wondered if she had made a mistake.

She started to tell him all she wanted to do was talk, to remind him she had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend, but when she opened her mouth to speak his mouth was next to hers.

"Jean," he said, "I know. You've got a boyfriend. I've got a girlfriend. They don't need to know if we do a little fooling around."

He then pressed his mouth to hers. He thrust his tongue in her mouth. She frenched back. Jean was experiencing her first make out session with another man. She told herself it was just one time. 

Their first kiss lasted a long time. He wasn't as good a kisser as Miguel. His kisses were all tongue, but instead of being turned off, they made her more excited. She wasn't going to let him touch her breasts, but when he grabbed her right breast and squeezed it she didn't stop him. 

She instead kept her eyes closed and her mouth pressed to his. His other hand snaked up her back. She felt him unclasping her bra. Her right hand was playing with his hair. Her left she used to unsnap the buttons of her shirt. 

A minute later his hand was under her bra massaging her breast. He was rough. He tugged hard at her nipple causing her to groan mixed parts pleasure and pain.

A few more minutes and his mouth left hers and latched onto her breast. He sucked her right then her left leaving her squirming. She wanted to be petted.

When he unsnapped her jeans and went to lower the zipper she lifted her bottom off of the seat making it easier for him. A few seconds later and his middle finger was inside her panties, parting her labia, using her juices to make it slick, and the pad of his finger was strumming her clitoris.

It didn't take him long to bring her to orgasm. Instead of being satisfied she found herself wanting more. He knew enough she noticed to give her clitoris a break, but his finger stayed between her legs. 

He quit sucking her breast and returned to kissing her. Whatever guard she had was down. She had no intention of letting him lower her pants, but when he tugged at them she helped him pull them down. Her legs open as wide as her pants around her boots would allow them he resumed petting her, but with a twist. 

He used his middle finger like a cock and penetrated her vagina, something Miguel had never done. She broke from their kiss to tell him to be careful, that she was a virgin, but all that came out was, "Be careful."

"I will."

He expertly fucked her vagina with his finger thrusting in and out of the space not covered by her hymen. Occassionally he would hit her hymen making her wince, but all in all she found what he was doing enjoyable. With the pad of his thumb he massaged her clitoris. She was lifting her pelvis to meet his thrusts. 

"You're so wet. I like creamers."

She was close to coming. His comment added to her arousal. It wouldn't be long before he discovered just how creamy she got. His finger made a squishing sound as it pushed in and a slurping sound as it left her. She wondered why she and Miguel hadn't done this. She realized it was because she hadn't let him. She was a horrible girlfriend, cheating on him with someone she just met.

She was going to hell, but what he was doing felt so good. She would go to confession. Miguel would never find out. She was thrusting her hips against him, wishing she was on her back instead of sitting. She noted her orgasms were better when she could let her entire body get stiff as she climaxed.

She found it difficult to keep her eyes open. She had never been stoned, but that's how she felt, drugged. Intoxicated with lust. Her breathing was shallow. She mumbled aloud, "Feels so good. Don't stop. So close."

His voice sounded confident or was it arrogant, "I won't. That's it Jean. Come for me."

At his command, cum she did, grinding her sex against his hand. His thumb slowed down its massage of her clitoris. He kept his finger inside her. 

"That was so good," she told him, "I needed that."

He chuckled, "I know how you feel. You can only go so long."

She sat with her knees open wide and her feet close together, her jeans and panties around her boot tops. His hand cupped her sex. 

She laughed back. What he was saying was so true, but it didn't assuage her feelings of guilt. She just knew Miguel would never cheat on her. He told her he often masturbated at night before going to sleep dreaming of her. It thrilled her knowing she was the inspiration for his climaxes.

She wondered what time it was and if her friends were looking for her. 

She swore he was a mind reader, "Jean, you're not a bad person. You're just lonely and horny. Your boyfriend would understand."

"Does your girlfriend?"

"What she doesn't know can't hurt her. I don't ask her what she does."

"So she cheats."

"I don't know and I don't want to know."

"Miguel doesn't cheat."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

She was killing the moment. He decided it was time to take her mind off of her troubles. He took his free hand and began to gently caress her left breast. Her nipple started to extend. She looked at him. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. She inhaled sharply. Her eyes fluttered ever so briefly. 

He didn't kiss her. He simply watched her as he cleared her mind, replacing bad thoughts with sensual ones. She possessed great tits he thought. They were he noted very responsive to stimulation. He could feel her getting wetter. 

He petted her again, but slowly, liking the sound his finger made entering and leaving her. 

It didn't take long before she begged him to finger her faster and to suck her neglected right tit. She came clasping his head to her breast, panting as though she had run a sprint, squeezing her legs together as she rewarded his hand and the leather seat of his car with more of her cream.

He had her where he wanted and he wasn't going to let her mind wander. She was still coming off that mountain when he said, "My turn."

She looked as though she were wrestling with her decision. He had no idea she thought he wanted to do what Miguel did to climax, dry hump her. She looked around. Where they were was as isolated as a car in a huge parking lot could be. She hoped they wouldn't get caught.

"Help me take off my boots."

He didn't ask. She moved away from him and swung her legs into his lap. He pulled off her boots, then her pants and panties. He had only slept with one virgin, his girlfriend. He wondered if he was about to pop his second cherry. He was game. 

She now laid down in the back seat her legs open wide. He unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his jeans, lowered the zipper, lifted his butt off of the seat, and pulled his jeans and boxers down. For the first time ever, Jean saw a completely exposed cock. She had still not seen Miguel's and they had been dating for months.

She wondered what he was doing. Her panties were on the floor. Did she need to put them back on. 

She wondered if he didn't realize she was a virgin. 

He wasted no time in climbing on top of her. Things were moving way too fast for her. She asked, "What are you doing?"

He thought it was obvious, "I'm going to fuck you."

"We can't," she protested, "I'm not on the pill." 

"It's okay. I'll pull out."

"No, it's not. I'm a virgin."

"I know."

"I don't want to get pregnant."

"You won't."

What made her situation worse was she had been talking to all her girlfriends. She was the last of them to still be a virgin. She wanted to give her virginity to someone she loved. She wanted the moment to be special, but here she was in the back seat of a stranger's car with her legs open wide.

It didn't help he had the physical advantage. She was strong, but if he wanted to he could have raped her. He was using one hand to guide his penis. It was against her vulva. She noted how hot it felt and its smooth texture. 

The idea of taking her had zero appeal to him. He wanted to cum, but he wasn't about to force himself on anyone. He proposed a solution. It was what he used to do with his girlfriend before they started fucking. He was also confident it was more in line with what Jean thought they were going to do. 

"Let me rub against you."

When she and Miguel dry humped he always wore underwear. When they started they both wore underwear just to be safe. This stranger wanted to rub his bare penis against her bare skin. What he wanted was so risky, so dangerous. Against her better judgement, letting her carnal desires overrule her common sense, she said, "Okay, just be careful. Promise you won't go in me."

"I won't."

He had plenty of experience with frottage. He split her peach with the head of his cock, got it plenty wet, left he knew a dollop of precum, and began to rub up and down the length of her slit. He soon focused his efforts on her clitoris, using the end of his penis as he did the pad of his thumb. 

She responded by pulling his head to hers, opening her mouth wide, and frenching him. He knew if he kept it up she would come soon. What he was doing felt good, but he needed a little more stimulation. He needed more of her flesh around his cock.

He pushed his cock down the length of her labia and back up and he pressed a bit forward. She opened her legs wider. He slowly guided it up and down her inner labia. Her flesh was so soft, wet, and warm. He brought it back up to her clitoris, rubbed her clitoris for a minute, then went back down, but this time he moved back and forth. Her inner and outer labia were giving his cock the stimulation it needed. Concentrating on not going too deep was a challenge, but one he found exciting.

Jean thought how good it felt to have bare flesh touching hers. She wanted to tell him to fuck her, to make her a woman, to take her virginity, but she couldn't. She moved her hips feeling his fleshy knob stretch the entrance to her vagina. He was in her. Another man's cock was in her. 

She broke from their kiss warning him not to go any deeper. He said he wouldn't. She had gone from saying no to partial intercourse. Another couple of inches deeper and she would no longer be a virgin. What she didn't realize was he wasn't in her vagina; it just felt like he was.

He fucked her for a minute, then rubbed her clitoris with his head. Then he went back to fucking her. As he did this he left a trail of precum rubbing it into her flesh. 

He was ready to climax. He put the head of his cock on her clitoris and moved his shaft up and down and side to side faster and faster. As her fourth orgasm of the night approached she fought the desire to take her hand, wrap it around his cock, and guide it into her. 

They were frenching, staring wide eyed at each other when her orgasm hit. Jean didn't break from the kiss. She found it erotic to keep her mouth glued to his. She called it her silent scream because from her diaphragm she emitted a scream. His mouth on top of hers was the only thing preventing it from being heard outside the car. 

He was the one who broke their seal grunting he was about to come. Miguel was one who also announced he was climaxing. She had gotten in the habit of encouraging him to cum. What she forgot was Miguel came into his underwear. 

He couldn't believe his ears when she told him to cum. He was certain she would direct him to cum elsewhere, but she didn't. "Yes, cum baby, cum," she urged. 

He did as she asked. It had been weeks since he last climaxed. He kept his penis pressed to her love button as he ejaculated. A half dozen rapid contractions and the load in his balls was now all over her outer genitalia, running down towards her vagina.  

Jean knew the instant it hit her she had made a mistake. She would worry about the consequences later. His cum she noted was hot. 

She couldn't believe what she had done. It had been incredibly easy.

He coaxed a few more beads of cum out of his cock, rubbing it onto her as his penis went from hard to soft. When he was done he got off of her and sat down.

"That was good, Jean."

"Good is an understatement. That was wonderful. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you, Jean."

Silence followed. It shouldn't have felt awkward but it did.

Jean asked, "What time is it?"

He yawned, "I don't know. We had better get back."

She asked him for her panties and jeans. She watched as his now lifeless cock went back into his underwear. 

She wanted to wipe herself clean but didn't want to do it in front of him. 

She put her panties on followed by her jeans and boots.

She noticed he looked sad. "It's okay. I understand."

"Thanks Jean."

They got out of the car. She took his hand and laced her fingers with his. "Shall we?"

"I guess so."

She was in a great mood, but wondered if it would last. 

"When will you see her again?"

"In a few weeks."

Referring to his climax, "That should hold you over."

He laughed rather weakly, "I hope so."

She stopped walking and turned towards him. Looking him straight in the eye, she said, "I don't understand why you're feeling guilty now. What we did was special. Let's not ruin it."

"You're right." His face brightened.

"Of course I'm right."

She used humor to pull him out of his funk telling him she could feel his cum every time she took a step, "Squish, squish, squish," she repeated taking big wide steps. 

He was back to normal by the time they hit the dance floor. They spent the remainder of the evening dancing to slow song after slow song. They hung onto each other looking very much like a couple not speaking just savoring each other's presence. 

At closing time the band played 'Cotton Eyed Joe'. They exited the bar. Her friends were waiting for them. They looked at him and looked at her. They smiled letting her know it was cool. Miguel didn't need to know. She told them to go ahead of her. She would follow in a minute.

As soon as their backs were to her she hugged him. He lowered his mouth to hers and they french kissed. Her knees were wobbly when they parted. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 12



"I had better go."

"Me too."

"See you around."

"See you."

What she really wanted to do was return to the back seat of his car. They both knew it was highly unlikely they would meet again, much less mess around. She didn't offer and he didn't ask for her number. 

They both felt guilty for their deceit. She would make it up to Miguel and spoil him rotten when he came to town.

In the car she was adamant they didn't do anything but talk. She was a shoulder for her to lean on. Their faces told her they didn't believe a word she said. She stubbornly refused to change her story. Since she wasn't talking they changed subjects talking about another man one of them met.

At home Jean went to the bathroom. When she wiped she swore she could smell his cum. She brought the toilet paper to her nose and sniffed. She had never really smelled cum before. She noticed it had a distinct odor. She held her panties to her face. They smelled of his ejaculate.

She stripped and before letting her nightgown fall she admired her body in the mirror. She still couldn't believe what she had done. It was crazy. She vowed to never do it again. She didn't want to lose Miguel. A minute later she promised herself to be more careful the next time. She calculated her cycle. She was certain she was safe. 

Under the covers her hands roamed as if they had minds of their own. She squeezed her breasts imagining his hands. She felt restless and couldn't sleep. She pulled her nightgown up. She put her hands back on her breasts, grabbed her now erect nipples and rolled them between her thumb and forefingers just like he had.

She thought about him as she played with her breasts. She shouldn't feel the need to orgasm; the four she had were extremely good, but she needed a fifth. She put one hand between her legs. She ran a finger inside her labia. She was wet. She then inserted a finger into her vagina just like he had. She traced the outline of her hymen. Still a virgin. She felt proud for not going all the way. She had really wanted to. She told herself she wasn't a slut. Miguel was going to be the one to take her virginity when she was ready. 

She replicated his finger's in and out motion and with her other hand she rubbed her clitoris. She wondered why she always had to rub so hard to climax. When others did it their touch was so much softer. Miguel actually flicked it driving her crazy. 

She still couldn't believe he had used the head of his cock to rub her clitoris. Even crazier was he ever so shallowly thrusting in and out of her. One quick push and virgin no more. He was a nice guy, but she found his change in moods annoying. He was the one who came onto her telling her how lonely he was. He certainly didn't seem conflicted in the back seat.

The funk he entered after climaxing surprised and angered her. She felt guilty but she would deal with it on her own terms. What they had done wasn't bad. They hadn't fucked. They hadn't had sex, just fooled around. Both had needed to feel good. 

She climaxed letting her body go completely rigid. She liked the way her feet pointed downward. It was the second best orgasm of the night, the best of course when he petted her using his cock, made even better when she felt his cum hit her flesh. He had ejaculated alot.

She brought her hand up and sniffed it. She detected more than a faint whiff of him. She wondered if it had a taste. She removed her finger from her vagina and licked it clean. She couldn't taste him. She did like how she tasted. She wondered if couples licked each other. It sounded somewhat gross. 

Exhausted and satisfied she drifted off to sleep hoping Miguel would be home soon. She needed him to take care of her. She reminded herself she needed to be careful. She didn't want to make him suspicious. 

What Jean didn't know was 150 miles away Miguel was also in bed. He had worked the last 10 hours washing dishes, scrubbing pots and pans, sweeping, mopping, and emptying the trash at the restaurant where he worked. He reeked of sweat, soap, and bleach. When he got home he forced himself to shower as he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he was clean.

In the shower he dreamed of Jean and making out with her. He pictured her orgasming as he petted her. She had a really nice body he thought. He had seen all of it in the back seat. He regretted it had always been dark, but what he had been able to make out he found to his liking. She had perfect tits. Her meaty thighs he loved the feel of, the skin was so soft. She had a flat stomach and a cute belly button. He really liked the growth of hair above her pussy. It was untamed, thick, and abundant. It reminded him of an Afro, springing up from her skin.

As to her pussy, he loved its feel but what he truly loved was strumming her clitoris and making her cum. His orgasms were good, but he worried they would get carried away. They would be better if he didn't have to wear underwear, but he wasn't complaining. The few times he hadn't climaxed didn't bother him as he really got off to making her cum. Her pleasure was more important than his. He couldn't wait until they were together again. He would write her in the morning.

Their letters were tame but every once in a while she injected a racy couple of sentences. She called her pussy PS and said it missed him. PS she told him stood for Pleasure Spot. He was glad she shared his enthusiasm for making out. Their physical relationship would only get better as they did more. 

He soaped up his penis and masturbated to thoughts of Jean, picturing her face as she orgasmed. He climaxed letting his seed hit the shower floor where the water took it down the drain. 

After he toweled off he got in bed naked. He liked sleeping in the nude; it was one of the benefits of living alone. He would like to spend a weekend with Jean the two of them in the nude. He wondered what she had done on her weekend. She had been a little upset when he broke the news he wasn't coming home. She had told him it was okay, but he knew he had let her down. There was nothing he could do. He hoped she had gone out. He hated to think of her sitting around the house moping. 

If she went out he was pretty sure she had gone dancing. She was a really good dancer. On one of their first dates they had gone to a wedding. At the reception she danced with alot of men. He felt a bit jealous, but he really liked watching her dance. She made even bad dancers look smooth. It was weird seeing another man with his arms around her or her arm around his. He still remembered feeling excited watching her back side, studying her ass. Her dress accentuated her body's curves and the heels she was wearing made her legs look even longer and muscular, but what that additional height did was make her buttocks stand out. Resting above them was her partner's hand. He wondered if he wanted to caress that ass. He shouldn't have but he had jacked off later thinking about that man's hands on Jean's ass. 

That was so long ago he thought. He and Jean hadn't done more than kiss. He hadn't thought about that day for a long time and wondered why he was remembering it now. 

Then it hit him. At the reception she had danced with him a couple of times at most. He wasn't a great dancer so he didn't mind when she danced with others, but she danced with one man nearly every other song. He wondered if she liked him. When they were in the car in front of her house they talked and kissed. She sensed something was bothering him. He told her what he was feeling and he tried to make it sound as though he understood her attraction and he could give him her number. What he said surprised her. She assured him she wasn't attracted to him, didn't want to date him, and all she wanted from him was a dance. She told Miguel she wanted to date him. She also told him not to sell himself short. It was the first time she noticed he was insecure. It was sweet because she knew it meant he really liked her, but also troubling. He was handsome, nice, and intelligent, but he was full of self doubt. 

Miguel drifted off to sleep dreaming of Jean dancing.

When they next saw each other Jean was careful about what she said and did. Her previous Saturday night had only made her love Miguel more. She doubted it would happen again and what she had done was wrong, but it was water under the bridge. The experience after all hadn't been a disaster, just the opposite. She had also learned a few things sexually. She had caught her first glimpse of an erect cock. A man had entered her vagina with his finger and used it like a little cock to fuck her as he petted her. A man had used the head of his cock to rub her clitoris to orgasm. A man had deposited his seed all over pussy. A man had ever so shallowly thrust the head of his cock in and out of her. 

Her hymen was intact. She started her period. She learned something new. It opened her eyes as to how little she actually knew. Until Miguel she never knew she could be petted to orgasm or that her breasts were more than for nursing. She never imagined a penis could do what Miguel's finger did. 

She also knew she couldn't surprise him with her bag of tricks. She didn't want to make him curious as to where she learned them.



Chance Encounter Ch. 13



Her period provided her a golden opportunity to share some of her new found knowledge with Miguel. It had never gotten in the way of them petting. She used tampons. She even had a pet name for her period, LRRH, Little Red Riding Hood. 

Friday night he was at her door and hours later they were parked and fooling around. It was chilly but she still insisted on getting completely naked. The cold made her nipples even harder. Goosebumps popped up. She lay on her back, legs open, the string of her tampon dangling between her vulva.

She saw him look at it. She was nearly through and asked him if he wanted to take it out. Her question surprised him. He gently pulled on the string. She told him he needed to pull harder. Out it popped. She asked to see it. Dangling it in front of her she told him she was nearly through. He asked if he should get her a new one. She said there was no rush as she was barely bleeding.

He reached in front and found a box of tissues. He grabbed a few and wrapped them around her tampon.

She had a conspirator's gleam in her eye. She asked him if he wanted to put his finger where her tampon had been. He told her he didn't want to hurt her. He thought he would tear her hymen. She told him her hymen didn't completely seal off her vagina allowing she and other women to use tampons even if they were virgins.

She grabbed his hand and told him not to be nervous. He extended his middle finger and entered his first vagina. He wasn't on top of her or even stretched out beside her, but kneeling, the back of his thighs and buttocks resting on his calves and heels. It wasn't a particularly comfortable position, but it afforded him a view of Jean from head to toe. 

It felt less sexual but more intimate and a bit clinical when he removed her tampon and inserted his finger. He noticed she was very wet. This he thought is what his penis would feel. She was tight. Jean squeezed her vaginal muscles and he noticed she got even tighter. It would be a dream come true to have his penis inside her. He didn't know if it would happen; they had a long time to wait. She was only in her second year of college.

Jean asked him if he could tell the difference when she contracted her muscles.

He answered, "Yes."

"Can you feel my hymen?"

He retracted his finger until only the first knuckle remained in her. He ran his finger up and down her hymen. He wondered just how fragile it was.

"Put your finger back in me. It feels good."

He did.

"Does it feel good to you?"

"Jean, it does." He loved the feel of her pussy around his flesh. Finger or penis he didn't care. All he knew was part of him was inside of Jean.

"Move it back and forth."

He hesitated not wanting to hurt her.

"You won't hurt me. It's tougher than you think. I haven't torn it and I've shoved alot of tampons in there."

He laughed. Jean was he thought very funny when she was matter of fact.

She parted her legs more and Miguel fucked her with his finger. She moaned and even rolled her pelvis. She was getting wetter. 

The clinical exam was over; they were back to making out.

He had never had such unfettered access to her body. She was literally all laid out for him. It was also pretty obvious to him she liked being on display.

His right hand was between her legs so he used his left to focus on her breasts. Everything was so easy to access this way. He massaged each of her breasts and noticed how she liked their undersides touched. He saw her nipples grow. He pulled and twisted them. She rewarded his hand with more of her juices.

She couldn't believe how good he was making her feel. His tit play alone was driving her crazy. At one point she grabbed his hand and stuck several of his fingers into her mouth. She coated them with her saliva. She sucked them like she imagined she would a penis. She took them out. He took his wet hand and went back to work on her nipples. She knew if he kept it up she would orgasm just from his hands on her tits. 

Miguel's finger hadn't stopped its in and out motion. He figured if he used his thumb he could rub her clitoris as he fucked her. Jean quit looking at Miguel and focused on what was outside the window of the hatchback, the stars. She wondered if this is what heaven offered, endless pleasure. This was she thought going to be her best orgasm ever. Miguel was so skilled.

It got even better as Miguel decided two hands on her genitals were better than one. He took his left middle finger and strummed her clitoris while he kept fucking her with his right.

"Oh my God," Jean cried.

Within seconds she was cumming. It was a long orgasm, each wave stronger than the last. She bucked against his finger wishing his penis was in her. She wanted to fuck. What made her orgasm even better was being able to let her entire body go rigid. 

She begged him to stop, pushing his hands away. He held up his right middle finger. It was red. She wasn't through with her period. She laughed and he joined in at the sight of it. 

He grabbed more tissues and cleaned his finger. He asked her if he should get her a tampon. She said no. She wanted him to do what he had just done again. She asked him if he was comfortable knowing his legs must be cramping, but he assured her he was fine. 

The second time was even better. Miguel found he could lean forward and suck Jean's breasts and even kiss her. Aside from his mouth and hands being so talented she adored the way he took his time. He knew she needed time to reach the top of the mountain and he gave it to her. 

She could will herself to orgasm faster and she had, but it was so much more satisfying to be taken slowly to the peak.

She intended to have him dry hump her after her second orgasm, but after finding out how late it was there was no time. She needed to get home. She apologized. He told her it was fine and assured her it was worth the sacrifice of his own climax.

She thought his actions noble, "When you get home tonight I want you to masturbate thinking about me."

She knew he jacked off, but it showed how comfortable they were with each for her to encourage him to beat his meat. She knew he needed a sexual outlet and being a dutiful and loving girlfriend it was the least she could do for him. 

She had contemplated touching the lump in his pants, massaging it, but she chickened out. She feared she would want it in her so it was better left alone.

Miguel's confidence seemed to have grown in the months they dated. She was glad because she knew any of her girlfriends would happily take her place if they broke up. He was marriage material.

She knew what they did sexually played a role in boosting his self esteem. He couldn't help but notice how good he made her feel. It would she told herself only get better when they started fucking.

On the drive back to her house she stared at him to the point of making him nervous. He asked her why. She told him because she had never been so in love with him. He thought it was because of the two orgasms, but it was for so much more.

It was the intimacy they shared before making out. He was so cool about removing her tampon. He didn't act grossed out or made fun of her. He was mature. He even made light of his blood stained finger. When he explored her vagina he was she noted in awe, the kid in the candy store. She considered her body his playground and while she couldn't give him the ultimate gift she wanted him to enjoy to his heart's content what she could give him.

In bed that night Miguel did what she asked not once, but three times. 

Jean lay in her bed having no desire to masturbate but thinking about Miguel and the man she was with the prior Saturday. His name was Kelly, but she refused to say it aloud and tried not to think it. She was afraid of blurting his name out and that would be bad. 

She didn't regret what they did. If anything her night with Miguel affirmed her decision to get in the car with Kelly. She needed tutoring and he had schooled her. She had taken that knowledge and passed it on to Miguel. Kelly she told herself had been a very good decision. She was pretty sure he was no virgin. In spite of his funk after he came she had a good time with him. She wondered what his girlfriend was like. She knew her behavior had been risky and it could have been a disaster. What if Kelly hadn't been such a gentleman? He could have easily raped her. She silently laughed telling herself it wouldn't have been rape. If he had pressed the issue she would have let him fuck her.

Thankfully he hadn't.

Thinking about Kelly and Miguel and the sexual intimacies she shared with each got her juices flowing. She masturbated, rubbing herself as if her clitoris had a terrible itch, as images of Kelly and Miguel flashed inside her head.

Exhausted after she came she fell asleep reminding herself to block his name from her memory bank. Kelly didn't exist and being in the back seat of his car as he rubbed her love button with his cock and spurted his cum all over her pussy never happened. All they did was talk.

Saturday and Sunday night were repeats of Friday night. She and he got to their makeout location later than she wanted. She did what she had done Friday night, gotten naked in the back seat, legs open wide, her tampon's string dangling between her puffy lips, beckoning Miguel to take it.

She saw herself as a grand piano and he a concert pianist. He skillfully and to great effect played her body. The sounds his fingers produced as they struck her keys she likened to a cat in heat. She cursed, groaned, moaned, babbled, grunted, and screamed as one hand finger fucked her and the other roamed the length of her body. His mouth played an active role. When they weren't kissing he was licking her ear, kissing her neck and shoulder, or sucking her tits. 

She noticed him staring at her crotch. He was studying it as he petted her. He grabbed a handful of her pubic hair and tugged at it. A loud moan came from inside her. She never imagined something so simple could feel so good.

Between orgasms they would pause a few minutes as her clitoris needed a break. It was the center of her pleasure but she noticed it could take only so much stimulation before needing a respite.

Miguel made no move to leave his perch and get on top of her. Since he seemed perfectly content to pleasure her she decided it was okay to be selfish. She ended the night exhausted from having cum so often. She looked at her watch. He asked if it was late. She said it wondering if he would make a move to dry hump her. When he didn't she suggested, "Lover, I need to get home. You have worn me out."

He didn't seem upset about missing his turn. She didn't know why she did it, but she asked him to get her a tampon from her purse. He did. She told him to unwrap it and she would show him how to insert it. 

She had never seen him so serious. She noticed he was also excited. He had no trouble inserting the cardboard applicator into her vagina and depositing the tampon as he removed the applicator. He made sure he left the string out of her.

She smiled at him and asked if he enjoyed it. He nodded yes. She answered, "That can be your job when I'm on my period. Would you like to be the one who changes my tampon?"

He had a deer in the headlights look. She told him she was kidding, but instead of making him relax he seemed disappointed.

"Unless you want to."

Never in a million years did he imagine any woman making such a proposal and never in a million years did he picture himself wanting such a duty. 

His embarrasment caused his voice to be really soft, "Yes. I want to."

"Good because I really want you to, but only if you want to. It excited me when you did."

She next had him put on her panties, then help her with her bra. He snapped it closed. Her dress was more difficult. She held her arms up. Bunched around her waist she said she needed to get out of the car. She said, "My shoes, please."

He got her shoes and put them on her feet. She asked as he did if she had pretty feet.

He said she did.

"So kiss them."

He held her right foot and kissed it several dozen times. Then he did something that completely surprised her. He took her big toe into his mouth and sucked it like a lollypop. She was glad she had a tampon in because his gesture started a flood. 

She told him to do her other foot. When he took her left big toe out of his mouth she wished they had more time. She was not going to be able to sleep without another orgasm.

He quietly put her shoes on. He was excited and embarrassed, but so was she.

They were quiet on the drive to her house. She kept replaying the entire night, how good he made her feel. She loved being pampered by him. As to his worship of her feet, the word that came to mind was 'Wow.' 

He wondered if she thought he was a freak. Her silence rattled him as he thought the worst. When they got to her house she invited him in. She was bothered by his silence and wondered if he was thinking she was a pervert.

When he got out of the car he didn't say anything, but she took him staying as a good sign. They entered the house. Her parents were in bed. She told him to wait while she let them know she was home.

She turned on the t.v. as she walked to their room. He sat down on the couch. She came into the living room and went past him whispering she would be back. A few minutes later she reappeared wearing a cotton nightgown. Its sleeves were long as was its hem which nearly hit the floor. She also had a blanket.

She asked him if he wanted a drink. He said yes. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were in one big room. She got them drinks handed his to him and set hers down on the coffee table. She asked if she could lay her head on his lap. She knew he was tired but she wanted to lay down instead of sitting up. He told her to lay down.

She had her head in his lap and twisted it to watch the t.v. She wanted to talk, but didn't know where to start. She decided to use praise. 

"Kiss me, Miguel."

He lowered his head to hers and they kissed. She stuck her tongue between his lips and they leisurely frenched. She sensed it was a good time to talk.

She purred, "You were wonderful tonight. You always are, but tonight was exceptional. You made me feel so desired."

"Jean," he assured, "I do desire you. Any man would."

"I don't want any man, Miguel. I want you."

"You have me."

"You weren't grossed out by what I asked?"

"Not at all Jean. I actually felt privileged you would trust me enough to let me."

She chuckled, "Now you better understand what a woman goes through every month."

"I wasn't as nervous tonight removing it, but my hands were shaking when I inserted it."

"You did fine."

"Thanks."

Jean breathed a sigh of relief. She turned her head. On the other side of Miguel's slacks she felt his erection against her cheek. "Good," she thought.

He wasn't the only one aroused.

She rubbed her face against the lump, "I never knew you liked feet so much."

He softly laughed, "I never knew I did either. I've always thought you had really pretty feet, but the thought of kissing them never entered my mind. Did you like it?"

"Are you kidding? I loved it."

He teased her, "I could tell. I don't think I've heard you moan so loud."

"Miguel, I had no idea you doing that to me would feel so good. You can suck my toes anytime you want."

There was a half minute of silence before he answered. He sounded choked up when he told her, "Thanks."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you. I've learned so much with you. I never thought I'd be so comfortable with anyone like I am with you."

He swore her blue eyes seemed to twinkle, "I know it's late and you need to go, but will you do me a favor." She moved her cheek against the bulge. He was so hard. The previous Saturday and now the last two nights with Miguel had changed her. She felt stronger, more capable, even empowered.

"Anything."

"Pet me again. I really need another orgasm."

He did his arm covered by the blanket. She lifted her nightgown. She had no panties on. He encountered the string as he parted her labia and located her clitoris. She asked him to go slow.

His hand ached by the time he finished. 

She apologized for taking so long, but he was so good she wanted it to take forever. 

She held his hand to her face, kissed it, smelling what was between her legs. Her odor was different during her period. Iron she thought as she sniffed. Women were stronger than men; they had to be. She didn't know why she thought it, but she had. Blood had iron in it and iron symbolized strength. Each month what flowed from her vagina was strength. 

She moved her head around his lap. She had this strange compulsion to suck his penis. She didn't and wouldn't she told herself, but the urge was there. She sensed he would react to her mouth on his penis like she did when he sucked her toes. She felt bad she wasn't returning the pleasure he was giving her. 

She wasn't ready to touch his penis. All she could offer was encouragement and frottage. She wasn't about to risk having him dry hump her on the family couch. It was tempting, but way too dangerous.

So she told him she was sorry they hadn't had time for him to hump her. 

To ensure there was no mistaking her intent she rubbed her face against the bulge in his pants as she said, "Promise me you'll take care of this when you get home."

"Trust me Jean. I will."

"Good. I want you too. Did you last night?"

He smiled rather sheepishly, "Yes, three times."

"I'm impressed. I must really turn you on."

"You do."

Now he had a confession to make.

"Jean, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

He whispered, "Tonight when I was sucking your toes I..."

He couldn't finish the sentence; it was embarrassing.

"Came," she said.

"Yes."

"I wondered if you had. You were so quiet on the drive here. Were you embarassed?"

She didn't wait for a response, "Miguel, don't be. I nearly came too."

He felt relief hearing her talk.

"Promise me you'll never feel ashamed of what you and I do. Remember when we talked about sex. You told me to treat it like a smorgasboard. That's what I want us to do. We both discovered something tonight. You like sucking my toes and I like you sucking them."

He wanted to tell her he promised, but he couldn't. He instead said, "I'll try, but sometimes I think I'm wired differently."

"No, you're not. And if you are, so what? I happen to love the way you're wired. You are the best boyfriend ever. You treat me like a queen. You are so patient with me."

"You are my queen, Jean." He said it with such solemnity making her want to cry and to confess her betrayal. She didn't do either. It pained her to be on the receiving end of so much pleasure. She decided it was time to reciprocate. She remained convinced skin to skin contact with his penis would lead to fucking. 

She asked him how he could be so patient. 

"Because I love you. I really enjoy our time together even where we're doing nothing. What we do physically is fantastic, but even if we did nothing I would still want to be dating you."

Those words were her green light. It was time to let him know how deeply she cared for him. She turned her body towards the couch. Her face was in his lap. She put her mouth over the lump in his pants and used her teeth, lips, and tongue to massage his penis. Her move completely surprised him. 

He held the back of her head. She was glad he wasn't wearing jeans. His slacks were thin. He would leave her house with a huge wet spot on the outside of his pants courtesy of her saliva. It didn't take him long. She accidentally found his sweet spot, the underside of his penis just below the head. She gummed it and within minutes he began spurting. She could feel his penis twitch followed by a release of cum. She kept her mouth on him until he was soft.




Chance Encounter Ch. 13



After thanking her he asked why the treat.

She told him to reward him. She asked how it was. He told her it was better than great. Not only did she surprise him, but the sensation was something he hadn't imagined. 

She warned him not to expect it too often. She would reserve it for special occassions, like the one they shared that night.

He now had a second wet spot on the inside of his briefs. She yawned signaling him it was time for him to go. She walked him to the door, kissed him good night. She made sure he got into his car and waited until he drove off. She was very happy with her self. What she did with her mouth boosted her confidence as a lover. It was the first time she actively gave another man pleasure. Men had used her body for their own self gratification, but it was a passive role for her. She lay there and they pumped or rubbed. For the first time she did the rubbing, but she used her mouth instead of her hand. She knew it wasn't a blow job so she called what she did a mouth job. 

Sunday she spent the entire day with Miguel. As much as they both tried to be cheerful the day had a tinge of sadness to it. She hated the thought of being away from him. She noticed he was especially attentive to her. He clearly liked what transpired the previous two nights. Her acceptance of his kink and the subsequent mouth job she gave him left him feeling very loved.

They returned to their makeout location. After bringing her to orgasm three times she wanted to make sure he climaxed at least once before they parted ways. It would be another three weeks before he returned.

She was torn between having him dry hump her or using her mouth on his erection. 

"Miguel, lower your pants."

He bent his head as he rose off his haunches, undid his pants, and pulled them down to his knees. Sticking out from his tighty whities was his hard-on. She noticed he didn't seem as big as Kelly, but size was of no concern to her. She didn't know if it made a difference because she had never experienced intercourse with anyone.

She thought his penis looked cute straining against his cotton briefs. She wished they were in some place roomier than the back seat of his car but she would make it with Miguel's assistance work.

She couldn't scoot down so she had him walk on his knees to where her head was. She turned on to her side and propped herself up using her elbow. She was now face to face with Miguel's throbbing little man.

He couldn't stand erect as the ceiling forced him to keep his head tilted forward. She hoped what she was about to do would make up for the crick in his neck he might have later.

She opened her mouth and closed it around his penis. All she tasted was cotton but she was able to feel his erection. She used her saliva and tongue and coated his cotton covered lump. 

He cradled her head. She thought it a nice gesture as there was no sense in both of them having sore necks.

She took her time wanting his experience to be even better than last night. She also wanted it to hold him over until he was back. She wanted him hungering only for her. Her deceit the previous Saturday made her worry about his fidelity. If she could so easily cheat so could he.

She produced more and more saliva soaking his underwear. The end result was akin to a wet t shirt contest; his wet briefs allowed her to see in detail his penis. She put her mouth over the head thinking she would deep throat him but the briefs prevented her from taking all of him into her mouth. She sucked what she could. She had no idea what felt good. She gummed the lenth of his shaft slurping and gnawing its length, reminding her of a dog with a bone. 

His legs were open wide. She moved her mouth off of his penis and down to his scrotum. His sac was too large for her but she was able to latch onto one of his testicles. She felt him flinch. 

She asked if she hurt him.

He answered a little but cautioned her to be gentle as they were sensitive.

She asked if she should stop.

He answered, "No."

She said, "I don't want to hurt you. Tell me what to do."

He had never experienced another's mouth on his genitals. He knew what felt good but coaching her wasn't as easy as it sounded.

"Miguel, talk to me," she pleaded.

"Suck my testicle, but softly. That's it. Now the other one. Wow, Jean. That feels so good. That's enough. Do what you did with your mouth before on my shaft. Now put the end back in your mouth."

He was holding her head. She felt his erection, but all she tasted was cotton. She was thinking she would need another orgasm after she finished. He was thrusting in and out of her mouth telling her how good it felt and how he was getting closer to cumming. She sucked harder. He thrust faster and announced he was going to climax. She kept sucking as his penis began to spurt. She could taste his cum as it penetrated his briefs. Its taste wasn't something she would describe as good, but it wasn't as bad as her girlfriends told her. Metallic was how she described it. 

She sucked until he was nearly soft. 

She took her mouth off of the lump and looked at the results of her work. His underwear was indeed soaked but in the middle of that wetness was another wet spot, darker than the rest. It was his cum.

He told her, "That was unbelievable."

"So you enjoyed?"

"Enjoyed. I loved it."

"I'm glad. Now, my turn. Pet me Miguel."

And pet her he did. 

They dressed afterwards and drove back to her house. She told him she thought it better if they in the car as she didn't know if his wet underwear had soaked through to his pants.

He had never given her any reason to doubt his trustworthiness, but she found herself worrying he might cheat. She tried to come across as being curious, not nosy, about what he did when he wasn't working or studying. He told her he went to ice houses mainly. He liked being outdoors, the beer was cheap, and there was usually horseshoes, washers, foosball, darts, pool, and at one place basketball to play. 

"Not many women I bet."

He said, "A few, but it's mostly a place for guys to hang out."

She asked, "Why don't you go clubbing?"

"I don't know. I guess because I don't dance and I'm not looking. Besides they are expensive and nothing starts happening until late. I can have a good time at the ice house and be home by 10." He laughed thinking how square and old he sounded.

"But you don't mind if I go out dancing?"

"No. I know you like to dance. I don't want you sitting around doing nothing because I'm not here. I'm glad your girlfriends keep you busy."

He yawned. She knew he had a long drive and he needed to go. She hated saying goodbye. 

"Miguel, does it bother you when I dance with other men? I don't want it too. 

I know it shouldn't but it would bother me if you danced with other women. I don't want to be a hypocrite. You know I think of you when I go out, how we could be the ones dancing."

He thought for a moment before answering, "I guess it should bother me, but it doesn't. I think it's different when men and women go out dancing. When a man asks a woman to dance it's because he's interested in her. A woman might be interested too, but most women I know love to dance."

"I think you're right Miguel."

She didn't press the subject any further. He was okay with her going out and he wasn't going to places where there were lots of women. She didn't like being deceitful but rationalized it. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him and what she learned she would find a way to make what they did better.

She got out of the car and walked around to his side giving him one last but long kiss telling him to remember she loved him. He told he loved her too and he again thanked her for the memorable weekend they had shared. He knew what she did was huge.

She admitted it was, but she wanted him to feel pleasure in a special way.

She told him to write and encouraged him to think of her often before falling asleep. It was her code for telling him to masturbate. He told her to do the same. She promised she would. It was the first time she openly shared with him she too masturbated. She also said it wasn't nearly as good as what he did to her.

She made one parting comment as he pulled from the curb, "Think of my feet."

He smiled back. He had been thinking about them alot, imagining the day when she would use them to rub his penis to orgasm.



Chance Encounter Ch. 14



Jean and Miguel wouldn't see each other until Thanksgiving. It was three long weeks, but she vowed not to make them wasted weeks. Each day she made time to write him. Each day but Sunday she received a letter from him. They were beautifully written and increasingly risque. She wrote back even racier letters because he lived by himself and there was zero chance of what she wrote being seen by anybody but Miguel.

She still couldn't believe the way she reversed course. She really didn't know what triggered her to use her mouth on his penis. Until Saturday night she considered it perverse, not up for discussion. She was dying to do it again Sunday night. She had even told him not to expect it except on special occasions and a day later she was the one who initiated it.

She thought about his ejaculate and its taste. She noticed it had a distinct odor. She wondered what it would have been like to suck Kelly's. 

Friday night didn't come fast enough. Jean and her girlfriends headed for a different country western club. Within minutes of arriving she was on the dance floor two stepping with one drugstore cowboy after another. She was having a good time but not really connecting with anyone.

She was sitting down enjoying a drink when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was a much older man. He asked her to dance. She said yes. On the floor with him she discovered he was a real cowboy. He owned a ranch and ran cattle. Brown hair, brown eyes, skin tanned from working in the sun, tall, and strong from years of hard work her thought was he should be home with his wife.

She teased him asking about his missing missus. He answered he had been through several marriages and discovered it wasn't for him. The song had gotten slower and she was aware of their crotches bumping before settling against one another as an even slower song began. 

He pulled her tighter to him and she didn't resist. He whispered, "A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."

She answered, "I do, but he lives in another city."

"How often do you get to see him?"

"Not often enough. Every three weeks."

"You must get lonely."

"I do, but I keep myself busy to make the time go faster."

"He's a lucky man."

She didn't think it possible but he pulled her even closer to him. She didn't resist feeling drawn to this tall, dark stranger. 

"Little lady, what's your name?"

"Jean."

"What's yours?"

"Buck."

"I like that name. Pleased to meet you." She had taken her head off his chest and was looking at him. She smiled. He smiled back. 

He looked she swore through her. His gaze was piercing. He made her nervous and wet. He was different from Kelly and Miguel. It wasn't just his age but his experiences. This wasn't his first dance or his first rodeo.

She sensed he was thinking. He didn't ponder the idea long. He moved his head close to hers and pressed his mouth to hers. She opened her mouth to receive his tongue. She hoped her friends weren't watching but if they were she knew they wouldn't say a word. She and Buck stood there slowly circling the floor making out like dozens of other couples around them.

His mouth tasted of tobacco. She found it a turn on. He had crow's feet. He smelled of cologne, Old Spice, like her dad and uncles wore. He was she thought a much better kisser than Kelly. 

The band was still playing when he ended their kiss. Like a parent leads a child he took her by the hand out of the dance hall and to his truck. 

He opened the door. As she climbed up he put a hand on her ass, squeezing it as he boosted her up. 

She smiled seeing the bucket seats. He climbed up and closed the door. He wasted no time with small talk but picked up where they left off. She was glad because she wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat. 

She liked his smell and his being older. He was all man. He quickly had her tits out and her jeans and panties down to her knees. He employed the same technique as Kelly commenting as he plunged a much thicker middle finger into her, "You've still got your cherry."

She felt embarrassed, "I do."

"I thought you had a boyfriend. You and he must not be too serious."

He put her on the defensive, "We're serious. We just want to wait."

"You must not do too much."

She protested, "We do a lot."

He quipped back, "Something tells me you and I have different ideas of what's a lot."

Up until he started talking she was looking forward to being in his truck. She was now having second thoughts. He was making her feel like a child. She was about to remove his hand, get dressed, and get out when he got back to what they came to the truck for, making out.

He pulled his finger out of her used it to stroke her clitoris. The entire time he petted her they kissed. He brought her to orgasm. 

He gave her pussy a break from his finger, but located a small bottle of peach flavored schnapps. He offered her a sip. She didn't want to seem rude so she took a sip. She liked the taste and the way it heated her from the inside. He took a swig and handed it back to her. She took a larger gulp.

He looked in his glove box and found a jar. He unscrewed the lid and stuck his middle finger into it. 

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see. Trust me. You'll like it."

"I don't know, Buck."

"Have another drink, Jean."

She took another big gulp. It really warmed her up.

"Scoot your bottom to the edge of the seat."

She did.

"Close your eyes. Lay back and let me do everything."

She did.

He bent his head and sucked one breast followed by the other. 

She was curious what he was going to do with his fingers.

He entered her vagina with his thumb. It felt huge. She hoped she wouldn't tear. He brought his other hand between her legs and started to pet her. She suddenly felt the tip of his index finger at her butt hole. She started to move away when he reminded her to relax.

He teased the entrance of her anus. She found herself wanting to be penetrated. He eased into her the whole time playing with her clit. His finger felt huge. He petted her while screwing both her vagina and ass with his fingers.

He didn't kiss her, just looked at her, and asked if she liked. She nodded and said, "Yes, I like."

He took her to a whole new place. She never imagined her anus and rectum could be pleasure centers. After her climax she was ready for him to take it out, but a minute later she found herself wanting it again.

She asked him what the lotion was. He told her dairy farmers used it on cow's nipples to help heal them. He demonstrated applying a dab to each of her nipples and then rapidly rubbing them between his fingers and thumb. She liked having her breasts played with, but what he was doing was taking nipple play to a new level. She had an orgasm.

"That lotion is incredible."

"We're not through." He looked at her, "Ever jacked off a man?"

The look she gave him told him no.

"You're about to." He leaned back, unbuckled his belt, unsnapped, unzipped, and pulled down his jeans. Poking out through the fly in his boxers was his cock. Jean stared awed by its size. She thought it looked scary.

He smiled. "Grab some lotion and grease me up."

Like a puppet on a string she followed his instructions. She coated his cock. She noted how hot it felt. His head was purple and the shaft a deep red. She thought it would feel rough due to the veins bulging along the length of the shaft, but it was smooth.

Satisfied he was sufficiently lubed up he told her to tighten her grip and to begin an up and down movement. He called it jacking.

She jacked him as he played with her tits. He told her she was doing fine but he was older and it took him longer to climax. Five minutes into her stroking he had her apply more lotion. She couldn't get over how big his cock was. It would never she thought fit in her. She thanked god Miguel was average sized.

His cock swelled in her hand. She stared at it. He told her he was close and to keep pumping until told otherwise. His cum didn't shoot, but bubbled up, like a beer foaming over the sides of a mug. His ejaculate was off white, thick, and hot. It made his cock even slicker. She pumped and pumped coaxing out all of his cum.

He thanked her and reached behind the seat and grabbed a towel. 

"Wipe me clean."

She patted him dry.

"Now clean your hands."

Satisfied she was clean of his cum he suggested they go back inside. She got dressed. He pulled his pants back up. They got out of his truck. He asked her, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing."Why?"

"Want to come over?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"My parents."

He grinned at her, "Make up an excuse. Tell them you need to study."

He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. On the back it even had instructions on how to get to his ranch. He made her take it. She scrutinized the card.

"Five minutes from here."

She put it in her pocket, "If I come over that doesn't mean I want sex."

He smiled thinking she had so much to learn, "We won't have intercourse. I respect your wishes, but trust me we'll have lots of sex."

It was an epiphany for Jean. She equated sex as intercourse; everything else she did she called making out. It was all sex, just not sexual intercourse.

"What time should I come over? It's better if I come early. My parents won't be so suspicious."

"I'll be home all day."

They got to the entrance when he said, "This is as far as I go Jean. I'll see you tomorrow." His voice made it clear he wasn't accepting no. He gave her a quick kiss and told her good night.

She watched him walk to his truck and get in. A minute later the headlights came on and he left the parking lot.

She waited a few minutes before going inside. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed. The card felt as though it was burning a hole in her pocket. She had so many thoughts. They were all jumbled up. She needed time to separate them, to make sense of them.

She asked herself, "Are you insane? He's an old man. He's a hot old man. He could be your father. If he were my father we'd be lovers. What if he's crazy? He's not. What if he's a rapist? He's not; if he were he'd have raped me tonight. What if he wants to fuck you? I won't let it happen. Since when did you start using the word fuck? Tonight. I am so over my head. I hope Miguel never finds out. I am a horrible person. I can't wait to see him. What will I tell my parents to get out of the house? He had his finger up my ass. My butt is sore, but it sure felt good. He has got a big penis. I jacked him off. Did you see how much he came? It reminded me of a volcano. His penis was so smooth. It was hot. Where can I get some of that lotion?"

She returned to her table where each of her friends had a man beside her. It didn't seem fair thought Jean. Her boyfriend was 5 hours away. She brought her hand to her nose. It smelled of his cum and lotion. She liked the smell and sniffed deeply. They didn't even notice she had been gone.

On the ride home they talked about their evening. Her cousin asked her where she had been. She said, "Nowhere."

"Right, I saw you leave with that old guy."

"Diane. Nothing happened. I just stayed outside a while. I didn't feel like dancing anymore. I miss Miguel."

She played her card well as Diane believed her. For the next ten minutes they commiserated with her, telling her Miguel was worth it, reminding her he would be home in three weeks, followed by a short separation, and then Christmas break. They would have a month together before spring semester started.

They got to her house and dropped her off. Their words of encouragement saddened her because they magnified her feelings of guilt. She didn't try to make excuses and she didn't promise to stop. She was going to see Buck. She would use an upcoming test to get out of the house. She would even give them the name of a classmate. She told herself she was going to hell. Lying to her boyfriend but now she was lying to her friends and parents.

She wrote Miguel a melancholic letter describing how she missed him. She ached to be in his arms. She wanted to share with him all her feelings. She trusted him to tell her what to do. She went so far as to put it an envelope, address it, seal it with her trademark kiss, and put a stamp on it. She knew she couldn't mail it.

The day dawned. Her anus burned when she wiped reminding her of Buck's finger. At breakfast she told them of her plans. They merely nodded okay and asked if we should be home for dinner. She said she didn't know; it would be better for them not to wait.

She didn't wear western garb but a peasant dress. She chose a purple one because Miguel liked how its color complemented her. She was glad her mom and dad were gone when she left the house, school books in hand. She looked as though she were going on a date not a study session.

She came so close to chickening out on the drive, but she didn't. She wanted to further experiment sexually with Buck. He was handsome but too old. What was between them was nothing more than physical. She told herself Miguel shouldn't be worried. He wasn't going to lose her. 

She got to the entrance to his ranch. As he said the gate was open. The road to his house was caliche. She pulled up to the house parking by his truck. She got out and walked to the door. She rang it. He shouted for her to come in.

He was eating a sandwich. He smiled and asked if she wanted one. She said she didn't. He explained he had just gotten in from checking on his cattle. He was hungry and he needed a shower. He wolfed down the rest of his sandwich never taking his eyes off of her. 

He asked if she wanted a drink. 

She said, "Not now. Maybe later."

"I think now is a good time Jean. You're shaking. Don't be nervous."

He poured them each a margarita. "Made them earlier today. I'm pleased you came."

He offered her a glass, told her he'd be back after his shower, and to make herself at home. 

"You can wait here or in the bedroom."

He was testing her she thought. She took a swallow; it tasted so refreshing. She looked at him, "I'll wait in the bedroom."

He smiled and headed toward the bedroom. She followed. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. A second or two later she heard the shower running. 

She sat on the bed. In a few minutes she thought she would be naked on Buck's bed, a man old enough to be her father. Their age difference made her wet. She wondered what Miguel was doing, if he masturbated last night. She thought about how Buck smelled when he handed her the margarita: sweat, cologne, hair oil. Like a man she thought.

Buck exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a nice body, one a younger man would envy. He had a hairy chest and abdomen. He looked like a man too. He combed his hair back. 

He stood in front of her and held his hands out. She took his hands and he helped her stand. She had downed most of the margarita. She no longer felt nervous, but relaxed. She was looking forward to what he was going to teach her.

He pulled her to him. She put her arms around him feeling his bare back. She had never had her hand on Miguel's bare back. He stared at her. She stared back and then looked down. He lifted her chin, looked at her, and placed his mouth on hers. As his tongue explored her mouth she thought, "He really is a good kisser."

She felt his erection poking against her. He was massaging her buttocks, digging his fingers in, but not so hard to hurt. It felt she thought really, really good. 

When they finally paused to catch some air he asked her, "How much time do you have? What do you feel like doing? I want this to be a good experience for you, but I need you to trust me."

"I have until 7, maybe 8. I just want to do more of what we did last night. I don't really know what I want. I do trust you Buck."

"Good. You want my finger up your ass."

She hesitated, "Yes, I want your finger up my ass."

"And you want to jack my cock."

"Yes. I want to jack your cock."

"Then, let's get you undressed."

He pulled her dress off over her head. He then took her bra off. He hooked his fingers into her panties and pulled them. She kicked them off along with her shoes.

She felt totally exposed and vulnerable. He stepped back and apprised her, "You are stunning Jean. Miguel is one lucky man. Maybe not so lucky last night or today." It wasn't a mean laugh, but a good natured one.

She laughed too. It was true. She was cheating on him. There was no sense denying it or making it something it wasn't.

Her tits reminded him of water balloons with nipples; they defied gravity in spite of their heft. Her nipples were as hard as his cock. 

He loved her flat belly and how the hair on her pubis seemed to spring from nowhere. It was wild like her. She had so much to learn and he desperately wanted to teach her. He hadn't had such an opportunity in years. There was nothing he thought more sexually arousing than turning a novice into an expert.

He liked her thighs; they had muscle on them. He knew if he played his cards right he would have them wrapped around his waist. He just had to be patient.

He decided to keep the towel on. He told her to pull the bedspread down and to get in. She did scooting to the middle as he slid in. What followed was an incredible make out session. He petted her to several orgasms then announced it was time for a break. Jean was having the time of her life. Beds were so much better than the inside of a car. She loved having him look at her body. 

She also liked the feel of his body, especially his chest hair. She even went so far as to suck each of his nipples. He told her it felt really good. He suggested more margaritas. They drank, talked, kissed, and caressed. He found out more about her and her about him. He was older than her dad. 

He asked if she was ready to continue. She said she felt plenty relaxed. 

"I want you to lie on your stomach Jean."

She did.

"Close your eyes if you want."

She did thinking it would be nice to take a nap.

He got between her legs and kissed her shoulders as he massaged them. He kept kissing his way down her back. She wondered what he was going to do. He even kissed the tops of her buttocks. 

"Jean, I'm going to lubricate my finger and fuck your ass."

"Okay."

He moved to her side. She heard the jar open followed by something cold being applied to her anus. He began to tease her butthole with his finger. She actually found herself thrusting back. She wanted to be penetrated. He began to push in. It felt good she thought.

His other hand reached around her front, located her clitoris, and began to pet her as he buried his finger in her ass.

She groaned.

He asked if he should stop.

"No, Buck. It feels good." 

He started fucking her ass with his finger. He also released the knot holding his towel. With his finger in her ass he got between her legs and stretched out on her. There was no way she couldn't know his cock was there right beside his finger. It felt spongy.

He nibbled on her ear driving her crazy. Then he kissed her neck and shoulders. She was super aroused, putty he thought, open to suggestions. 

"Jean, you're tired of being a virgin aren't you."

"Uh huh," she moaned.

"But you want to wait until you get married."

"I do."

"But you want to experience penetration, to have a cock in you."

"Yeah."

"I have a suggestion."

"Let me put my cock in your ass."

"I don't know. It's so big. Will it hurt?"

"No it won't hurt. I'll go slowly. I have some special lubricant I use to make it feel good."

He wasn't going to plead. He had made the offer. 

"Okay. What do you need me to do?"

"Just lay there Jean. I'll do everything.

He applied more lube but this lubricant was mixed with analgesic to numb her bottom.




Chance Encounter Ch. 14



He kept stroking her clitoris, but just enough to keep her excited and compliant.

He added a second finger. She grunted a few times as she got used to the added girth. Her asshole burned in a very delicious way. She liked having her bottom played with. Anal sex was going to be good.

She was aware of her strange slurping noises coming from her bottom. She couldn't believe how open and kinky she felt. She was a slut, Buck's slut.

Buck pulled his fingers out and lay on top of her, kissing her ear, neck, and shoulder again. She could feel the spongy head of his cock as it probed between the cheeks of her ass. Suddenly she felt the knob at her backdoor. He was using his hips to guide him while his each of his hands now twisted a nipple.

She pushed back as he pushed forward. She thought, "He's big."

His head entered her. She groaned. He stopped for a minute then pushed in some more. She exhaled wondering when it would start to feel good. He waited feeling her rectum squeeze his cock trying to expel him. He let himself sink all the way in her.

"It hurts!"

"Give it a few more minutes."

He was going nowhere until he emptied his cum laden balls into her. 

He began to thrust. She moaned but it wasn't of joy. Dominating her like he did staved off his orgasm. Controlling her was a rush. 

"I'm fucking your virgin ass Jean. You and I are fucking. How does that make you feel? Do you like fucking?"

Buck was right Jean thought. The pain had turned to pleasure. She told him to let her get on all fours. It proved a little tricky as he kept his cock buried in her as she got on her knees and elbows.

He fucked her with long strokes, petting her as he did. She was totally unaware of the sounds she was making, the farting noises as his cock schlepped in and out of her or the repeated 'ohs' as her climax built. They got faster and louder. In the privacy of a house she could scream as loud as she wanted. She didn't have to hold back.

"Fuck me in the ass, Buck. Fill me with your cum. Use me like a whore, Buck."

So he did. When his finger triggered her orgasm he slammed his cock in and out of her bottom not caring how sore she would be afterwards. He came with a loud grunt of his own. He held her hips as he unloaded his seed into her.

When it was over she felt drained and contented. It was better than she expected. The initial pain was worth the pleasure he gave her. Buck had butt fucked her; she still had her hymen but she was no longer a virgin in the truest sense.

He pulled out, her rectum pushing him along. She farted but didn't care. He got up and told her he'd be back. He returned with a warm washcloth. He cleaned her ass of the lubricant.

She felt swollen down there and stretched wide open. She said she needed to use the bathroom. He told her to go ahead but warned her it was a feeling, not a real need. She couldn't crap, but when she wiped she noticed fresh blood and cum. 

He had popped a cherry she didn't know she had.

She returned to the bed with a smile on her face and feeling confident. She felt like a real woman. It was only going to be a matter of time before she was totally a woman.

He had more margaritas. He made room for her. She looked at his now flaccid cock. It didn't look so big soft, but when he was hard it sure looked huge. She reached out and for the second time in her left held another man's cock. She saw it as hers. She commented on how soft it was. 

He suggested a toast, "To Miguel."

She found it funny to make light of her relationship with him. It made her feel less guilty. She knew it would devastate him if he ever found out. She swore he never would. 

His toast might have been in poor taste, but it reflected the truth. Miguel's absence had driven her to Buck's bed. If he hadn't been gone for weeks at a time she wouldn't have cheated. 

She turned on her side. He was on his back. She studied his face. Its skin was leathery, the effect of working outside in the elements. He had a strong face reflective of his dominant personality. She liked his chestnut colored eyes. His nose had a slight bend to it where it had been broken. 

She put her hand on his chest. He was so hairy she thought, but she loved the feel of it. He didn't have a weightlifter's muscles but long, lean muscles the product of physical labor. She moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest. He put an arm around her. She felt extremely comfortable and safe.

She moved her hand down his stomach. Under the hair she traced the outlines of his abdominal muscles. She counted them, eight, not six, she thought. She then reached out and took hold of his big, soft, and floppy, cock. She wrapped her hand around it. His cock felt good to hold. She couldn't believe it had actually been in her, that it had fit in her back door, and that it had churned her ass filling her with his cream. What they had done had been worth the deceit and the pain. 

She fondled his cock and watched it grow. She thought it doubled in size. It no longer looked harmless. Filled with blood fueled by lust its color reddened. The head turned plum colored. 

Buck asked her, "Are you ready to jack my cock?"

"Yes."

"Get the jar."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to the night stand.

"Not that jar. The other one." He chuckled telling her, "We don't want to numb it."

She opened the jar.

"Lube me up."

She slathered his cock with the cream. 

"Now jack me."

She wrapped her hand around it and began to pump.

"That's good Jean. A little tighter. Just so you know it's going to take a while. I don't cum as fast as I'm sure your boyfriend does. Let me know when you get tired. We'll do something different to make it happen."

She pumped his cock for almost 10 minutes. It swelled and looked ready to pop, but it didn't. Her hand slowed. 

"On your back Jean."

She did. He straddled her. His cock pointed upwards. She wondered if he was going to fuck her mouth. He grabbed the jar and scooped some of the contents onto the inside of her breasts.

"Now Jean, hold your titties together. I'm going to titty fuck you."

He pushed his cock between her breasts and began thrusting. It was sexy to see the head of his manhood pop out, and then briefly vanish. He briefly stopped applied more lube, then resumed fucking her. 

He was breathing hard and grunting as he fucked her tits. It was she thought a lot like masturbating. It could have been anybody's tits; his cock didn't care. He picked up the pace, fucking her hard and announced, "He's about to blow."

She watched his cum leave his cock. It didn't shoot, but left in a steady stream. He didn't cum a lot, not like the first time and certainly not like Miguel or Kelly. She found herself comparing all three men. She loved Miguel and their physical intimacy. Kelly had been fun, but Buck was in a league of his own. He approached sex recreationally and he was blunt. He didn't play games. 

He told her to press her titties together really hard.

She did squeezing the last few drops out of his cock.

She looked at the head of his cock sticking out from between her breasts. She thought, "It looks just like a turtle." She chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

She told him. 

"Why, yes it does." He laughed, then added, "Want to hear something else funny?"

She looked at him wondering what he was going to say.

"Ever worn pearls?"

"Once or twice, my mom's necklace."

"Now you've got your own," he smiled pointing to the pool of cum which had now separated into two streams headed towards her clavicle. 

She lowered her chin to her chest so she could better see. He was right. She laughed, "Wow, you are generous. Giving me jewelry. Then again, you owe me."

"How's that?"

"I gave you something pretty special."

He chuckled, "Yes, you did. Your ass is no longer cherry and it's no longer yours, but mine."

"Yours?"

"Yes. Mine." He didn't elaborate. She wanted to tell him he was mistaken, that she was the sole proprietor of her body. She had not transferred ownership to him. It was merely a loan.

She didn't correct him because a tiny voice inside her said, "He's right. He owns you Jean. You've sold your soul to the devil."

He yawned snapping her back to reality; Charlie Daniel's fiddle quit playing in her head and the scene from Rosemary's Baby where the devil breeds her cut off.

"I'm sorry. You have worn this old cowboy out. I need a nap."

He got off of her. Still on his knees he stretched and yawned again. 

She knew it was time to go. It was nearly six. He went to the bathroom and tossed her a warm washcloth.

"Better wipe yourself clean."

She took it and mopped up his cum. She wasn't as successful with the lube. It wasn't greasy. It had a distinct odor. He watched her dress commenting as she let her dress fall, "Jean, you've got a hell of a body. I love that big ass and those big titties of yours."

She smiled, "Thanks. They're all yours."

She brushed her hair looking at him thinking he had a really nice body. She looked at his cock. It was limp but long. 

"You're not getting dressed?"

"No reason to. My nearest neighbor is two miles down the road."

He walked her to the door. She put the strap of her purse over her shoulder. 

He looked she thought boyish in his birthday suit as though he didn't have a care in the world. She wished she could stay longer. She wanted more of him. He sensed it too and put his arms around her. She let him pull her close. She ran her hands over his back and his bare ass. They kissed. She thanked him.

He said, "You have a lot more to learn. Tell your parents you didn't get all of your studying in. I'll see you tomorrow."

She protested, "But...,".

"But nothing. Be here tomorrow."

She didn't fight him.

"I will. I promise."

"Good."

They separated because she really did have to go. She glanced down. Seeing his flaccid cock moved her to hold it. She was looking forward to having it back in her ass. She thought, "I don't know much about cocks, but his is beautiful."

He looked at her hand and then at her face, "Jean, he needs a goodbye kiss."

She stared back at him, then down at it. She thought, "He wants me to kiss it." She moved away and bent down intending to give his cock a quick buss. 

"On your knees Jean. He needs a real kiss."

She knelt. Holding his shaft with one hand she noticed how it bent in the middle. She softly kissed the head.

"Again, Jean. Keep kissing it."

She continued marking it with her lipstick.

"Now french it."

She stuck her tongue out and licked his knob. 

"Put it in your mouth and french it."

She opened her mouth and carefully closed her lips and teeth around it. She ran her tongue all around his head.

"That's enough, Jean. You can practice tomorrow."

She got up. She didn't want to, but she did as he asked. She wanted to keep licking his cock.

He didn't push her out of the house but his tone made it clear she needed to leave. 

She walked to her car. He stood there exposing himself to her. She backed out, waved goodbye. He waved back. She looked in the rearview mirror watching him get smaller and smaller. She made a turn and he was gone.

On her drive home she thought, "I am so screwed. I need to keep calm. I actually do have a test on Monday I need to study for. I'll study tonight instead of going out and tomorrow night after I see Buck. I need to write Miguel. I wonder if I got a letter from him. My ass hurts. I can't wait until he fucks me in the ass again. I am sick. I am going to lose Miguel. It will be so hard keeping it a secret. He came on me. I had his cock in my mouth."

While Jean's stomach was twisted in knots because of all the lies she was telling, her parents weren't in the least suspicious. They saw her as a goody two shoes. She had never deceived them when she was younger so they weren't expecting her to deceive them now. When she told them she needed to return to her study group on Sunday they said she could as long as she went to Mass before going. She said she would.

After dinner she wrote a long letter to Miguel telling him how much she missed him. She told him about her Friday night leaving out what she did with Buck. She relayed to him how busy she was with school and how she had met with her study group today and how she was going to meet with them again tomorrow. She hoped all her studying would pay off on Monday. She reminisced about their physical relationship and how good he was at giving her pleasure. She hoped she wrote she was half as good as him. She didn't know what she wanted to try next, but after the past weekend she was ready for more. She pleaded with him to indulge her. What others might consider painfully slow she saw as cautious. The reward she promised would make the wait that much sweeter. 

In bed that night she explored her anus. It was swollen. She remembered how open it had been right after Buck finished fucking her when she was sitting on the toilet. She ran her fingertip around it working up the nerve to push her finger in. She thought about using her vagina's lubricant but opted for Vaseline. She coated her finger and slowly penetrated her sphincter. She was sore but it was a good sore. She thought her vagina would feel the same soreness after she had intercourse. She corrected herself, after she had vaginal intercourse.

She had experienced intercourse with Buck. Her ass was no longer virgin territory; Buck had fucked her in the ass. She wanted him to fuck her again. She hoped she would be able to when she saw him again. She couldn't wait to have his cock in her mouth. 

She wondered how she would introduce Miguel to them. She decided it would be prudent to wait. She didn't want him to suspect other men were tutoring her. Her thoughts kept returning to Buck fucking her like a bitch, sawing his cock in and out of her ass. She fingered her ass and rubbed her clitoris achieving orgasm she believed in record time. 

She was too drained to get out of bed. She fell asleep. 

In the morning she awoke refreshed. She had slept sound. She convinced herself it was because she had a clear conscience. She was cheating on her boyfriend, but she still loved him. She was keeping her activities secret because she didn't want to hurt him. What she was doing was just a phase; it would pass and she would return to being faithful. 

After breakfast she moved her bowels. Her asshole screamed. She doubted she would be ready for another ass fucking. She told herself it was God paying her back. She wondered if she would ever want it up the ass again. She hoped Mass would leave her feeling less conflicted. 

She decided to get ready for Mass and started the shower. Waiting for the water to warm she brushed her teeth. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She did have big tits; they were also firm. She thought she had too much pubic hair and it was too untamed but three men had told her they loved it. She turned around and looked at her ass. It was bigger than most because it was packed with muscle. She flexed her cheeks. It was the first thing Miguel noticed about her. Her ass attracted attention.

She showered, shaving her legs and underarms. She was going straight to Buck's house after Mass. She hoped Father Gene would be there. She confessed to him everything. He knew everything she and Miguel did and she even told him about her escapade with Kelly. He was so cool. He didn't condemn her, just told her to resist temptation. She didn't know if she could tell him about Buck. She decided until she had gone to confession she wouldn't receive communion.

Father Gene wasn't there; if he had been she would have stayed after and sought his counsel. She used church as a reason to dress nicely. She wore a grey skirt and burgundy turtleneck. The skirt accented her hips and the turtleneck drew attention to her tits. Miguel told her it one of his favorite outfits to see on her. She hoped Buck would have the same opinion. She wanted to look really good for him. 

She wondered if Miguel found out what she was doing if he could forgive her. She didn't want to find out. She decided her cheating would end with Buck. She couldn't wait to see Miguel again and she couldn't wait to be in Buck's arms, naked on his bed.

The drive to the ranch took a half hour giving her plenty of time to think. She felt guilty for deceiving Miguel. She wondered if she should come clean or suggest they date others. She scratched the last idea as she couldn't bear the thought of him with another woman. She knew it was hypocritical but she didn't care. She wondered what Buck had in mind. She wanted his cock in her ass again, but she was so sore. She was pretty certain she was going to suck his cock.

He was on the front porch playing a guitar when she pulled up. She honked and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. She parked and got out of the car. He continued to sit. Her first thought was Miguel would never be so casual. He was more of a gentleman. She heard him sing and thought he has a nice voice. He was singing, 'Yellow Rose of Texas.' Her annoyance with him was forgotten. He scooted over and motioned for her to sit. It was she thought romantic. He finished. She clapped and gave him a kiss. He kissed her back. He said he had one more song to perform before they went inside. He sang 'Streets of Laredo.' It tugged at her emotionally as she hoped the young cowboy in white wasn't Miguel. She wondered if Miguel would challenge Buck. He wouldn't stand a chance. It would be her fault if he got hurt or worse.

He put the guitar down. She felt like crying. 

"Ready to go inside?"

She nodded afraid to speak because her voice might crack.

She stood up. He looked her up and down and whistled, "You are looking mighty fine today Jean."

She smiled. She was glad her outfit had the same effect on him as it did Miguel.

"Jean, on second thought, it's too nice a day to spend all of it inside. Why don't you strip for me?"

She looked at him as though he was crazy.

"There's no one but you and I Jean for miles. Go ahead. Strip. I'll join you in a minute."

She pulled her turtleneck over her head. 

"Just put them on the porch railing."

She weighed what to take off next, her skirt or her bra. She felt less paranoid someone might see, but part of her was eager to openly display her tits. She reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and slid the straps off her shoulders. She finished by pulling the cups away from her breasts. She put her bra on top of her shirt.

He commented, "Someone's excited."

She smiled and glanced down at her nipples. They jutted out a good half inch. 

"I guess I am."

He groaned, "Jean, you've got an incredible rack, the best tits I've ever seen and I've seen plenty."

His words didn't upset her, but increased her arousal. Sure, she was just another notch in his belt, but she was a notch above all the other putas he had bedded. They were whores, but she was something different.

She unzipped her skirt and peeled it over her hips and down. It ended up on top of the other garments. Her black bush was clearly visible through her white panties. She hooked her thumbs in the sides and pulled them down. She bent over to pick them up purposely turning her back to him giving him a good view of her ass.

"And you've got the finest ass I've ever seen. Now turn around slowly and let me look."

She did feeling like a piece of meat, embarrassed, paranoid, aroused, liberated, and proud. She had never felt so emotionally pulled in two opposite directions. Her wanton side won out. 

He announced, "My turn."

He didn't take his time, but quickly stripped. She noticed his cock was still soft. She wondered if she turned him on. He stood in front of her letting her soak in his body. She kept looking downward at his cock.

He sat down on the porch swing.




Chance Encounter Ch. 14



"Jean, get a cushion off the chair. Put it between my feet. Then kneel."

She did. She rested her forearms on his thighs. 

"Jean, meet my cock. I'm going to teach you how to give a blowjob, but first we're going to have an anatomy class."

He showed her his parts naming them as he pointed them out. 

She thought his scrotum looked huge, wrinkled, and hairy. 

He had her take the head and some of the shaft into her mouth warning her to watch her teeth. 

"Just roll you around it. That's it baby."

Once he got hard he had her practice deep throating him. She suppressed her gag reflex as she arched her neck. She felt as though she was choking. Her nose was buried in his pubic hair. 

"You're a born cocksucker. Now run your lips and tongue along the shaft. Now go back and start just under the head. Feel that spot. Men have lots of nerves there."

She worked her way to the base of his cock.

"Now my balls, but be careful." 

She licked his sac. He scooted his ass to the edge of the bench and rested his feet on the porch rail. She had unobstructed access to his scrotum. 

"Put one of my nuts in your mouth. Suck on it but not too hard."

She thought it was weird having one of his testicles in her mouth. She also knew doing it excited her. 

"Now the other one. That feels good Jean. I bet you never thought you'd have a man's balls in your mouth did you? I'm surprised Miguel hasn't made you suck his cock." 

She wanted to defend him but didn't. 

"He is too nice; that's why you walk all over him. You've got him wrapped around your finger. He thinks you're so innocent, but we both know different. That's enough. Suck my cock again."

He took his feet off the rail and put them on the floor of the porch. She wrapped her mouth around his cock and swabbed it with her tongue. He grabbed the sides of her face and moved her head back and forth. 

"Your face is fucking my cock."

She was salivating so much she couldn't swallow it fast enough. Her spit came out the corners of her mouth, dripped down her chin and fell to the floor. Her jaw ached from being open. Five, ten, or fifteen minutes into face fucking he began to really rapidly pull her head back and forth off his cock. 

She was glad when he announced he was, 'a coming.'

She felt the first and second spurt hit the back of her throat. The rest flowed out onto her tongue. His hands held her head still, but the instant he relaxed his grip, she sucked hard on his rapidly deflating cock. She wanted every drop. She didn't like the taste, but liked having its taste in her mouth.

Afterwards she asked, "How was my first blowjob?"

"I'd give you an A plus. Now let's go inside. I've got lunch ready."

They got up. She went to get her clothes, but he told her to leave them. She wasn't getting dressed until she left.

She was hungry, but what she really wanted was her own orgasm. He ignored her. He wanted her to stay thirsty. 

He made cabrito, beans, and rice, with pico de gallo and tortillas. He drank a beer while she had a margarita. She liked eating in the nude. He also had guacamole which she didn't like. He asked her if she liked sports. She said she did. He turned on the TV. The Cowboys were playing. 

"Every Sunday my family has a big lunch. Then we sit around and watch the Cowboys. Do you have family?"

"I do, but I never see them. I'm what you call a loner."

She felt bad for him, "Why is that?"

"I don't know. I'm different. I like my solitude."

"What made you go to the Golden Stallion?"

He smiled, "Pussy, Jean. I'm a loner not a hermit. I don't go too often, but every once in a while I need some female companionship."

She said, "I'm glad our paths crossed."

"Me too." 

They were both ravenous, she because her appetite hadn't been filled and he because his had.

When they finished she got up to clean off the table. She took the dishes to the sink and hand washed them. He turned his chair and watched her thinking how fine she looked and in awe of her ass. He felt life return to his cock. 

He stood up his erection bobbing up and down as he walked towards her. She pretended not to notice him and focused on the dishes. He put his arms around her waist before moving his hands to her breasts. He pressed his body against hers. She felt his cock poking at the crack of her ass. She wanted him to fuck her in the ass but she didn't know if she could handle it. She moved her bottom against him.

He whispered in her ear as he kissed the side of her neck, "I think someone wants some cock."

"You think right," she answered noticing she sounded short of breath.

He kissed her shoulder driving her crazy, "Let's go in the living room."

She felt as though she were having an out of body experience. His hands were expertly twisting and rolling her nipples, stretching them, and then flattening out, but in such a deliciously good way.

If he had so desired she would have leaned forward and had him take her right there.

He took her hand and led her into the bed room. 

"Get on your stomach and spread your legs."

She winced when he inserted a lubricated finger into her. She was having second thoughts. Perhaps they could do something else. There was she thought only one other thing they could do, vaginal intercourse. She wasn't ready for that; maybe she told herself next time, but not today.

"A little sore down there."

"I am."

"Wait. I've got something to make it all better."

He returned with a plant and a bottle.

"Witch hazel and aloe."

He opened the bottle of witch hazel and applied it to a towel. The relief she felt when it made contact with her anus was immediate. Her external discomfort was gone. He broke open the leaves of the aloe and dripped them onto her anus and all over his pointer finger. He entered her ever so slowly. He kept dripping aloe onto her butthole and working it into her.

She told him it felt wonderful. If he kept this up she would come. She could smell her scent; she knew she was creaming a lot. He paused for a minute broke more leaves, swabbed the length of his cock with the medicinal gel and applied a glob of aloe and udder relief to the knob of his penis.

What she felt next wasn't his finger, but something much larger, his cock. She felt him enter her. She didn't resist. It rather easily slipped in. She thought the experience with her vagina after her hymen was broken would be the same. 

He just had her lay there, legs spread. He maintained a push up stance as he slowly fucked in and out of her. He purposely kept his thrusts short. He wanted her ass acclimated to his cock. Jean ground her crotch against the mattress. He told her to finger herself. She reached down and petted herself while he fucked her. She came and begged him to fuck her harder.

A few seconds later she regretted it as it hurt. She tried to gut it out thinking he would cum, but he didn't. She tried taking her mind off the pain by masturbating. It didn't work. Finally, she begged him to take it. 

He told her, "Just a little longer."

"Please!"

He pulled out but kept thrusting between the cheeks of her. Its exit was such a relief she didn't realize for several seconds he was ejaculating. He deposited his cum in the crack of her ass. After he finished he got off of her.

She wasn't mad, but relieved. She rolled onto her side and he joined her. They kissed. She apologized for having him stop and he said he couldn't stop because he was so close to cumming. She couldn't believe how his arousal could control him. She thought she was like him in many ways. She was in bed with him because her libido controlled her. She was going against everything she believed in.

He bent down and sucked her tits for a few minutes. He took his mouth off her breast. She felt his lips kiss her abdomen. She felt them on her belly button followed by a swipe of his tongue.

He was on his side moving down the bed. She wanted to stop him, but didn't. She wondered what he was going to do, knowing deep down exactly what he was going to do. He was going to put his mouth on her privates.

He gently rolled her onto her back. She opened her legs. He lay between them. Starting at the inside of her right thigh he began to softly kiss his way up. 

She thought his kisses felt great. He got to the top of her thigh where it meets her sex. She knew she should tell him no, to tell him she wanted Miguel to be the one she first experienced cunnilingus with, but she couldn't. Her body was tense with anticipation.

She felt his lips on her labia and that felt good, but the moment of pure pleasure came when he slipped his tongue between her lips, the instant his pink flesh made contact with hers. She thought she had died and gone to heaven. She opened her legs wide. She was experiencing oral sex for the first time. It was better than anything she ever imagined. When he started probing her vagina with his tongue she let out a loud groan. He lapped at her pussy like a cat does cream. Her pelvis undulated against his face, completely involuntarily. 

When his tongue settled on her clitoris and begin to suck and flick it, the fireworks began. Every orgasm before it paled in comparison to what she experienced from his mouth.

Afterwards she asked if there was something she could do to make him feel as good as he had made her. He smiled and told her to come back for a return visit and she would find out.

She wanted his head between her legs again but was afraid of being too demanding. He was the boss. 

"How's your ass Jean?"

"Sore."

"I have something that will make it all better. Lie on your stomach and open your legs."

"I'm going to apply more witch hazel and aloe, but before I do there is something I want to do."

He buried his head between her cheeks and began licking her asshole. Not only did it bring her instant relief, it brought her instant pleasure. His tongue slipped right into her stretched out asshole. He licked from the crack of her ass his cream. While he frenched her butt he massaged her clit. She experienced for the second time that day la petite mort. It was another incredible orgasm as good but in a different way than the one she had gotten from being eaten.

She lay there satisfied. If she was a smoker she would have lit a cigarette. Buck wasn't through. He tended to her raw ass with witch hazel and aloe. When he was through she knew it would be all better.

He kissed each of her buttocks and told her it was getting late. "You don't want to worry your folks."

She got dressed on the porch. He stayed nude. She wondered if she smelled of sex. She could smell the udder cream, aloe, and especially the witch hazel. Her fingers she noticed smelled of grease from the cabrito. 

She wanted a goodbye kiss so she moved towards him. The kiss he planted on her went on forever and left her trembling. There was a hunger to it. He said, "I'll see you Friday night."

She had no idea how she would pull it off, but she told him, "I'll be here."



Chance Encounter Ch. 15



The week flew by. She found in her parents' medicine cabinet, witch hazel and a jar of aloe. She doubted they would miss it and if they did she would come up with a reason she needed it. Hemorrhoids, but then her mom might insist she see a doctor. That would be awkward. She made the sign of the cross and prayed they wouldn't notice.

She wrote Miguel a lot. Her letters were long, inspired by the guilt she was feeling. She needed to go to confession, but didn't know where to begin. What she was doing with Buck wasn't a one time peccadillo but an affair. She knew it wouldn't lead to anything good but she was going back for more.

She didn't want any coconspirators because that would complicate her deception. She couldn't believe her luck when her older brother stopped by for dinner midweek. He commented how he and his roommate were going away for the weekend and suggested Jean use it to get an idea what life on her own would be like.

Normally she would have declined as it was the big deal he made it out to be, but this wasn't a normal situation. She kept quiet letting her parents decide. They agreed it was a good idea and even teased her about being all alone. Her dad told her if she went out to call when she got to the apartment, no matter the time. She pointed out when she went out with her girlfriends dancing she didn't get home until after 2. 

He answered, "I don't care. Your mom will pick up the phone anyway."

She said, "Okay." Inside she was doing cartwheels, but on the outside she acted as though it was no big deal.

Her dad asked, "Is Miguel going to be in town this weekend?"

She answered, "No."

He looked relieved, "Good. I don't think I want you over there if he's in town."

She protested, "Dad, you have such a dirty mind. He's not like that."

He defended himself, "All men are like that. Your mom and I were young once. It's better to avoid temptation."

Her mom reminded her to go to Mass on Saturday or Sunday. She said she would.

Afterwards, key in hand, she thought, "He would be shocked if he knew. I don't think he'd refer to me as his little girl if he saw Buck butt fucking me or heard me moaning like a whore. I'm going to make sure he never finds out."

She thought alot about sucking Buck's cock, and the delicious feel of laying there on her stomach as he slowly fucked her ass, but the memory she thought constantly of was his mouth between her legs. Nothing approximated the pleasure she got from cunnilingus.

She got to Buck's house just after sunset. It turned out to be a very memorable night. He had her sit on his leather recliner while he knelt in front of her. She draped her legs over his shoulders and crossed her feet while he slowly ate her to one and then a second orgasm. He told she had a sweet tasting pussy.

During the second time he ate her he finger fucked her ass. The combination she thought mind blowing bliss. Afterwards she asked if he wanted to fuck her in the ass. She pointed out she felt no discomfort.

Resting her upper body on the recliner, he approached her on his knees, aligned his lubed up cock with her sphincter, and slid into her as if her rectum was a scabbard and his cock a sword. He fucked her with long leisurely strokes, at time pulling all the way out and plunging all the way back in. She felt completely open. She didn't care if she climaxed because she had two under her belt.

She could tell when he approached his because his thrusts became faster and harder. It was a good thing the seat prevented her from going forward because he was slamming his hips into her butt. 

"I love fucking your ass Jean."

"And I love you fucking my ass Buck."

She closed her eyes; they had each used the word 'love', but not to express feelings towards the other, but to convey what felt good. She loved his cock fucking her and she loved his mouth between her legs but she didn't love him and he didn't love her. That was she thought okay.

He held her hips as he came. He finished draining his cock by moving ever so slightly in and out of her. When she expelled him she farted. They both laughed. She was very comfortable with him.

He went and standing at the kitchen sink cleaned his cock off. He brought back a warm dishcloth. She hadn't moved. He reached between her buttocks and cleaned her. She thought his gesture was very tender.

They lay on the floor bodies intertwined. She asked about his week. He asked about hers. He asked about Miguel. She told him she had received letters from him. He was anxious to see her. She laughed at the irony of it; he was looking forward to picking up where they left not realizing she was a completely different person. She loved his innocence. 

He asked, "Are you going to tell him?"

"No."

"He'll figure it out."

"No, he won't."

"Trust me, he will."

She kissed him wanting an end to his questions. He wouldn't let it go. 

"How long do you think we can keep seeing each other?"

"Buck, at the most he's only in town every other week. Most of the time we're apart three weeks between visits."

"Christmas break is coming up. He'll be here an entire month."

"I'll figure something out. I want to see you, but I really want to spend as much time as I can with Miguel."

"You really do love him."

"Yes. I haven't shared this with anyone, but I hope one day to be his wife."

He looked at her skepticism written all over his face. "Jean, do you think you can walk the straight and narrow, be faithful, to one man?"

"I hope so."

"If you can you've got more willpower than me. I was never good at the whole commitment thing."

"I'm not you. I don't mean that in a bad way Buck, but I think what Miguel and I have is special."

"If it's special then you shouldn't worry about him finding out."

"I don't want to hurt him."

"Hurt him or lose him?"

She decided to change the subject asking him if he wanted to cum again and if he did would he prefer a blowjob, a handjob, or a titty fuck. 

He opted for all three. She used her hand and plenty of udder lotion to bring life to his cock. When it was nice and firm, she got on her back, coated her cleavage, he straddled her, shoved his cock between her tits and fucked away. He announced he was getting close to letting lose.

She increased the pressure she was using to squeeze her breasts together. He withdrew and told her, "Open wide."

She did and in the blink of an eye he was straddling her face, his cock pointed at her open mouth. She wrapped her hand around it and guided it in. He assumed a push up stance and began pumping his cock in and out of her mouth. She actually felt it hitting the back of her throat. She even feared she might gag or worse yet, choke. Instead of stopping his deep throated assault of her she endured it, sucking down every bit of cum he deposited and draining more as his cock softened. She liked the feel of his cock in her mouth when it wasn't so erect. It was easier to caress with her tongue and suck on.

He got off of her and said, "That was a good way to finish the night."

She laughed, but an even better way would be if he went down on her again. She hoped he would but he didn't. 

They cuddled some more. He didn't mention Miguel again. She explained she needed to get going. He said he would see her tomorrow. She answered she would be there.

She wanted to be home early. She called her parents and told them she was at her brother's apartment and home for the night. 

Her mom said, "Miguel called. I gave him your brother's phone number. I told him you might be out late."

"Thanks mom. I hope he calls."

"He was at the laundromat and said it had a payphone that was finally working."

She laughed picturing her poor student boyfriend all alone doing his laundry on a Friday night.

She was looking forward to Saturday night, but really looking forward to the following weekend. Miguel would be home. They would have five days together as it was Thanksgiving. Then three more weeks apart and they would have an entire month together. This would be her first Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's spent with Miguel.

She took off her clothes and decided to stay nude. It wasn't the same experience as at Buck's ranch. She ended up putting on a nightgown. She climbed into bed and fell asleep hoping he would call. She needed to hear his voice. She woke up the next morning feeling refreshed but also a little down. She was now understanding how Kelly felt; the sex she was having with Buck made the time go faster, but it didn't fill the void. She missed Miguel.

She went to the gym where she lifted weights and ran. She liked squatting. There was something she found incredibly sexy about a woman doing it. She spent alot of time working her legs. She wished her college had a track team. She missed her events, the javelin, shot put, and discus.

She returned to the apartment, ate breakfast, and studied. She took a short nap thinking as she drifted off how she couldn't wait to introduce Miguel to taste the honey between her legs. Her eyes closed, she smiled, "He's going to be really good at eating me. I just know it." She pictured them in the back seat her legs wide open as he went to town on her pink flesh.

She thought, "Buck is no slouch at eating pussy, but he's not Miguel. I want Miguel's tongue." Her mind drifted to anal sex and how much she really liked having her ass stuffed with cock. She wondered if Miguel would like butt fucking her.

After she woke up, she showered and readied herself for her evening with Buck.

She thought about just wearing sweats as the minute she got there he would have her strip, but she wanted to look good for him. 

She picked out a burgundy dress; it was one Miguel hadn't seen. Its hem was shorter than she normally wore, almost a mini skirt, but not quite. She hoped Buck would butt fuck her twice. She couldn't explain it, but she craved the penetration of his cock.

She arrived. She rang the doorbell. He answered, a smile on his face and nothing else. He didn't strip her, but after a few kisses, his cock poking against her belly, took her by the hand to his bedroom. He reached under her dress and peeled off her underwear. He directed her to get on her hands and knees. She heard him unscrew the jar of his udder cream and turned her head where she watched him lubricate his cock. It looked she thought threatening, but she couldn't wait to have it in her.

Neither talked as there was nothing to say. He got on the bed and walked on his knees towards her backside. He lifted her dress up exposing her ass, ran the head of his cock up and down the length of her crack a few times, located her sphincter, and in one stroke pushed in, taking her breath away.

She closed her eyes. She involuntarily let out a grunt at the suddenness of his invasion and told him, "You have no idea how much I've wanted this all day."

He took his time fucking her, even pausing to apply more lubricant. Her ass she thought just didn't seem to tire of man sausage. She grabbed a pillow and lowered her head to it. Her ass was now sticking up in the air. She masturbated as he fucked her. In quick succession she came. She paused and brought herself off a second time. 

She could feel her vaginal juices running down the inside of each thigh and knew they were dripping onto his mattress. 

"Buck, you make me feel so good."

"Jean, I can make you feel even better."

She sensed what he was referring to and decided not to ask him to clarify.

He took her silence as no and decided it was time to move his climax along. He pumped her ass for all he was worth showing her what he could do if she allowed him to take her real cherry. 

She loved the feel of being skewered, how she would exhale when his hips made contact with her buttocks, how she couldn't keep herself from grunting as he stuffed her rectum with his sausage, how she made a high pitched noise on his upstroke. It felt so good she thought.

She adored how he held her hips when he came, trying to deposit his seed deep inside her.

His cock buried in her, Buck took his hands off her hips and unzipped her dress. He peeled it off of her shoulders, unsnapped her bra, and she tugged them down her arms. Her bra off, but her dress remained wrapped around her waist.

He pulled his cock out and that familiar slurping noise followed. 

"Stay just like you are," he advised.

He moved back, snaked his hands inside her thighs, grabbed each of her breasts, and pressed his mouth to her backdoor. He frenched her asshole. She fed his appetite by bearing down and expelling his seed. She had to admit what he was doing seemed gross, but sure felt great. His tongue was soothing. She wondered if it was a kink of his or a demonstration of how much he was into her.

He moved his mouth further down, pulled her thighs towards him, and began probing her pussy with his tongue. A few minutes later his tongue was on her clitoris and his nose buried in her vagina. He alternated between asshole and cunt all the while massaging joy into her tits. She didn't know if her nipples had ever been so rigid. This was by far her best experience being eaten. The first time had been out of this world, but this was unbelievable. 

She came long, hard, and loud. She felt full in one hole and drained in the other. He had worn her out. And he had worn himself out. His face wet with her juices he pushed her over onto her side and cuddled with her. Seizing her face with both hands he pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted cum, lotion, and pussy in his kiss. Instead of being repulsed she wanted the kiss to last and last. She hoped one day she and Miguel would share an identical kiss.

When they ended their kiss he said he needed to clean up and hoped she was hungry. She said she was. She followed him to the bathroom watching him wash his cock using his shower's hand wand. She felt completely at ease and used the bathroom in clear view of him, something she had never done with Miguel.

He asked her if she needed a turn. She stepped into the tub with him. He handed her the wand and a fresh washcloth and stepped out. He toweled off watching as she cleaned her crotch of their juices and lubricant. She turned off the wand. He handed her a towel and she dried her crotch, legs, and feet. 

When she was done he took her by the hand and into the kitchen. He had what he called a cowboy dinner for them to eat: brisket, beans, thick slices of bread, freshly cut onions, pickles, and jalapenos. In the refrigerator he had potato salad made earlier that day. There wasn't much for her to do but get a plate.

"Don't be shy Jean. Eat. Sex burns alot of calories."

She welcomed his encouragement and piled her plate high. She was ravenous.

They sat at his dining room table in their birthday suits and ate. There was little talking; both of them were hungry. In between bites she told him how good everything was. 

She commented he ate alot of beans. 

He answered,"They're to a cowboy what potatoes are to an Irishman. Besides tasting good they've got fiber."

She laughed, "And they give you gas." What she did next was totally unladylike but she lifted a cheek off the chair and farted. 

It felt physically good and emotionally liberating. He said, "I can beat that," and let rip one of his own.

They both got the giggles and had to take a break from eating.

She looked at him thinking how handsome he was, how much she liked his deep brown eyes, especially when he laughed. 

Buck was having similar thoughts about Jean. He thought, "She is so pretty and those blue eyes of hers are like diamonds. She's a lady, but she's comfortable being one of the guys. She pitches in without asking. She's not nasty nice. Her beau Miguel is one lucky buckaroo. I'd love to be the one who pops her cherry. I bet she's a wild fuck."

They were both staring at each other with such intensity they both felt uncomfortable. She knew she wasn't in love with him, but she also knew if the circumstances were different it would be easy to fall in love with him.

She asked him what he was thinking.

"You and just how damn lovely you are."

She blushed, "You're quite handsome too."

He had always drawn women, like bees to honey, but at his age it felt really good hearing such praise from a nineteen year old.

"Let's take our conversation into the other room."

He got up from the table his cock full of life and walked to the cabinet where he got two wine glasses. He then headed to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of chablis. He uncorked the bottle and poured them two glasses.

When he stood up she glanced down to see his erection bobbing. His cock she noted curved up and left when he was really hard and he was really hard.

His engorged cock she saw as a compliment. She was having the same effect on him as she had on Miguel. The two men were so different. Miguel was all sweetness. He was young like her. He was smart. He was capable of being independent, but she sensed he was drawn to strong women like her.

Buck too was drawn to strong women, but unlike Miguel he wasn't going to take a subordinate role or even an equal role. He viewed women like the animals around him; they served him. 

Jean got up and cleared the table of dishes. She took them and as she had done the night before washed them. 

Buck said, "When you're done I'll be in the living room."

At her house when he was there Miguel now did the dishes while she watched t.v. with her parents. She really liked the way he pampered her. She told herself she was doing the dishes because Buck cooked or because his generation expected women to, but she knew the real reason was because she was drawn to. If he had told her to prepare dinner she would have. 

It was the same with her body. With Miguel she was always in control. She dictated everything they did or didn't do. Buck had put an imaginary saddle and bridle on her starting with their first dance. He had taken her ass with little coaxing. Even the oral sex had been at his instigation. 

She felt conflicted as to who she was. She liked being the strong, always in charge woman. Long term she knew she was better suited to have a man like Miguel as her mate, but short term she wanted a man more like Buck. She enjoyed her evening with Kelly, but his sullen attitude prompted by feelings of guilt after he shot his wad all over her pussy was a turn off. She didn't find it the least bit endearing. It was unmanly. If you're going to cheat she figured you owed it to everyone, especially the one you're cheating with, to be an adult about it. Internalize your guilt and if you must share that's what the clergy are for, to hear you sins and clear your conscience.

She looked at the window above the sink and admitted she liked what it reflected. She looked sultry, not wholesome. Her big tits with the nipples all long and hard signaled she was also horny. Never in a million years would she have pictured herself in an older man's house, standing naked at his sink, washing his dishes. Her bottom felt empty; she hoped when she was done he would put erection to good use and fuck her in the ass again. She never imagined anal sex but now that and being eaten were all she thought about. She wanted Miguel to eat her, but knew she needed to approach it carefully. He had to believe when he put his lips to her carpet his were the first.

She toweled each plate dry and put them in the dishrack. She did the same with the silverware and glasses. She put the leftovers in the refrigerator. If this were a Sunday at her house, Miguel would be the one doing this. She silently laughed at her role reversal. She felt wet between her legs. Her work done she hurried into the living room to be with her lover.

He was on the floor. He had placed on top of the cowhide he used as an area rug a quilt. He had poured each of them a glass of wine.




Chance Encounter Ch. 15



"Did you get the kitchen done?"

"Yes, Buck."

"Thanks. Next time you can make dinner."

"I'd love to."

"Join me."

She stretched out next to him on the floor.

They were on their sides. She was very aware of his cock poking against her abdomen as they embraced and kissed. His chest hair against her breasts felt good. She hungrily sucked at his tongue. She was ready for more sex and he was too. He broke from her mouth and she turned her neck. He kissed her neck. She moaned and ground her crotch against him. He manuevered his cock bringing its head into where her sex and thighs met. 

"Jean, I want to make you feel really good."

"Buck, you always do."

"Jean, nothing would make this old cowboy happier than to be your first."

"I can't Buck."

"Why not?"

"You know why. I'm saving it for the man I'm going to marry."

"Miguel?"

"Yes, I really believe we'll end up married."

"But, what if you break up?"

"Then whoever I meet and fall in love with and marry will get to take my virginity."

"Jean, I can make you feel so good. So much better than Miguel or anyone else."

She studied his face worried and touched by his request. His desire hadn't surprised her, but it had caught her off guard. She hadn't expected it at that very moment when she was feeling so relaxed and open to suggestions. It also didn't help she had been rethinking her convictions. Her virginity was extremely important to her, but she was now thinking she didn't want to wait until marriage. She wanted to give it to Miguel because he meant so much to her. She knew it would be several years before they could even think about marrying and their paths might take them in different directions. She wanted him to do the honors. Even if they broke up it was the right decision.

She hated the pressure he was putting on her. Everything up to this point had been no strings attached pleasure. Vaginal intercourse would change the dynamic of their relationship. There was birth control and there was the chance of pregnancy. Did he really see himself being a father at fifty? Did she see him as the kind of man who would pitch in and help? The first answer only he could answer. Her gut told her the answer to her second question was no. Living on his ranch all these years had made him independent and feeling superior, not just to women but to everyone. If it needed doing he believed he could do it better. Fun in a lover but she was certain it would cause them to constantly butt heads in a real relationship.

While she was thinking Buck took his cock and owing to her aroused state wedged it between her labia. 

"Lift your leg a bit Jean. I want to rub your clitty."

She did allowing him to take that firm but soft head and rub it against her hard clitoris. She sighed thinking how good it felt. His mouth went to work kissing and nibbling her shoulder. She cupped her right breast and fed it to him. He latched onto her nipple and sucked. She let him continue. He was making it too hard to say no and too easy to say yes.

She groaned, "Buck, I don't want to give you an answer tonight."

"But, Jean, tonight is perfect. You want me and I want you. We're here. The moment couldn't be more romantic."

"True, but I want to sleep on it."

"So you're telling me no."

"Not no. Just asking you to let me have a night to think about it."

"I suppose that's fair." He didn't really feel denied. He had a feeling she would want to think about it. Tonight was about planting the seed in her mind. Tomorrow would be about planting his seed in her womb. He had been around enough women to know the signs of ovulating. Her cream was elastic and its consistency was thicker, the flavor richer.

There was method to Buck's madness. Taking the glans of his penis and rubbing it against Jean's clitoris he told her, "I know this feels good, but this is nothing compared to the pleasure you'll receive as my cock goes in and out of you."

She moaned, "It feels so good, Buck. I hope you believe me when I tell you I want you. It's just a big decision and I want a little more time to think about it."

"Then sleep on it Jean," as he continued stimulating her clitoris. He thought, "She really has a big clitoris. Like a marble."

Jean had thrown her right leg over Buck's body. Her vagina was his for the taking. He preferred she consented, but if he needed to he would take advantage of her. 

"I'm going to cum Buck."

"Go ahead, Jean. Cum all over Buck's cock."

She did her body going stiff as she ground against him. Unlike Kelly or Miguel, Buck didn't climax when she did. He did however keep massaging his free flowing precum into her genitals. 

Buck had never spent a day in college, but he had a spent a lifetime on the ranch observing the behavior of his cattle, horses, dogs, and cats. He noted how the females of the species picked a select few males to breed with. He initially thought it was because visually they looked healthier and stronger or younger, but he had seen plenty of old bulls impregnate young cows. He watched many a young bull attempt to breed with a cow in estrus, only to be rebuffed within a few seconds of his giant cock, precum flowing, made contact with the female's outer sex organs.

That initial contact dictated whether she would mate or the bull would be denied. Buck concluded animals can sense the potency of ejaculate by the quality of the precum. Absorbed into their outer genitalia the animal instantly knows if the quality of the bull's sperm makes him a candidate to breed with or one to send home.

Since humans were animals he concluded females must have the same ability to weed out the good from the bad. Buck had bred more than a few women in his day and he still augmented his income at the ranch with trips to the sperm bank where he was happy to learn his sperm had the volume and motility of a young man's. He was prime breeding stock and Jean was who he wanted to plant his seed in.

He had no intention of marrying her or interest in fatherhood. All he cared about was perpetuating his bloodline. He figured she would do all right, probably even marry her boyfriend through deception or confession. It never ceased to him how many men and women so easily forgave sexual infidelity. He had knocked up several women over the years whose husbands and boyfriends found out they weren't the father, but who stayed or even married their cheating partner. He had kept tabs on them and was pleased to discover they had been good fathers.

He figured some men were born to breed while others were born cuckolds. 

As Buck smeared Jean's labia with precum he knew the receptors in her skin were analyzing its contents and concluding he was excellent breeding stock. Having a night to think about it would only increase her desire for his seed. 

She was fertile. Subconsciously her body wanted to be impregnated. The taste of his potency ingested one part of her brain might say no while the other half and all her hormones screamed yes, yes, yes, Buck's the one.

Tomorrow afternoon he wagered she'd be back on his bed, legs spread wide, begging for him to make her a woman. She'd leave his house aglow, deliciously sore, and pregnant. He also had no doubt she'd be back for repeat performances.

He let up on his stimulation of her clitoris letting her orgasm fade. Jean was aware Buck's cock remained hard. He hadn't cum. Besides wanting him to climax she wanted him in her. She craved penetration. She fought the urge to grab his cock, put the head at the entrance to her vagina, and tell him to drive it home.

"Buck, I want you in me so bad. Will you fuck me in the ass, but can we do it missionary style?"

Her words were music to his ears. He liked the feel of Jean's ass around his man meat, but face to face while he fucked her would make her want vaginal intercourse even more. He also planned to pet her clitty while he ploughed her rectum telling her as he to expect even greater pleasure the next day.

Jean rolled onto her back and watched as Buck stood on his knees. His cock she thought looked so big. He liked her looking at him as he applied the udder cream to his cock. His firm grip as he lubed himself up made his cock swell even larger. 

Tomorrow he would enter a different hole, but tonight he was more than happy to fuck Jean's ass. She brought her legs up to her chest and opened them. She was they both thought so vulnerable and her body language signaled her desire for him to take her.

He got between her legs and placed the glans of his cock at the entrance of her asshole and slowly went in. She let out an 'oohhhh' as he slid his length into her. They had a great fuck, face to face, looking at each other throughout. He especially liked seeing her face when she orgasmed courtesy of his fingers on her love marble. She swore her bottom dilated swallowing his cock as her excitement peaked. He didn't last much longer and she now got to watch him as he came. He continued to slowly thrust in and out of her as his cock got softer. She was glad he introduced her to anal sex. She couldn't wait for the day she and Miguel would engage in it.

Afterwards she was the one who went to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth to clean her man's cock. She lovingly did kissing it afterwards and telling him how much she loved his cock. 

She left a half hour later. They clung to each other neither wanting to say goodbye, both wanting more, but it was getting late. Besides, Jean hoped if she got home early enough there was a chance Miguel would call again and this time they get to talk to each other. 

Buck's last words to her as she walked to the car were, "See you tomorrow."

She turned and looked at him, "I'll be here."

She had alot to think about. She really wanted to lose her virginity, but she was torn between the very capable and knowledgeable Buck or her sweet, innocent, inexperienced, but quick study of a boyfriend Miguel. She wondered how Miguel would handle being the second man to fuck her. Call it gut feel, woman's intuition, or a sixth sense, she predicted it wouldn't break them up. It would temporarily crush him, but if she played on his guilt over being apart, demonstrated remorse, accepted partial responsibility, and made him believe it was a case of sowing wild oats and behind her, he'd stick around.

It really made more sense to be broken in by someone experienced like Buck than another virgin. When Miguel got his turn he would appreciate her expertise. 

Miguel wasn't the issue; Jean's parents were. Even if he wore a condom there was a chance she'd end up pregnant. She knew she was fertile so the timing couldn't have been worse unless she wanted to get pregnant; in that case it couldn't be better. Deep down she hated college. What she really wanted was marriage and motherhood. Buck was many things, but he wasn't marriage material. He was too old for her. He lived for his ranch. He wouldn't be faithful. He didn't seem interested in fatherhood. She wasn't sure if he would even marry her. While she believed Miguel would get over her cheating she wasn't sure he'd marry her knowing she was pregnant with another man's child. He was sweet and chivalrous, but even he had his limits. 

She got to the apartment, changed into her nightgown, made a bowl of popcorn, poured herself a Tab on ice, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch. She grabbed the remote and turned on the t.v.

She found the volume too distracting so she hit mute on the remote. She needed to think. She pictured how romantic it would be as Buck deflowered her, a brief, flash of pain, followed by the greatest pleasure ever. She and he would be one, joined at their sexes. While she found anal sex very enjoyable to climax she needed her clitoris stimulated. The thrusting of Buck's cock during vaginal intercourse would stimulate her clitoris.

She wondered if he would be willing to wear protection. He had to know she wasn't on the pill. She knew condoms worked, but she had heard lots of stories where they failed. 

The phone rang. She jumped up and ran into the kitchen. She knew before she picked it up it was Miguel. 

She said, "Hello. It's so good to hear your voice. I've missed you so much. In fact I was just thinking how nice it would be if you were here. You know I'm staying at my brother's apartment this weekend. It would be so romantic if you were here with me."

They had a nice talk. He was counting the days when he would see her again. She asked if he had privacy. He said he was in a laundromat, but it was empty.

She told him she was horny. He told her he was too. She said being apart was hard, especially the lack of intimacy. He apologized profusely feeling bad. She assured him it wasn't his fault and she wasn't trying to lay a guilt trip on him; her intent was to show him how much he meant to her and to remind him how good he made her feel. He thanked her, but she detected he was holding back. She slowly prodded it out of him. He finally blurted out, "Jean, maybe you should date while I'm away."

She didn't see his comment and it put her on the defensive. She assured him, "I don't want to date anyone, but you Miguel."

He answered, "I know, but I feel bad. You deserve a social life."

"I have a social life Miguel. I go with my girlfriends to clubs; we have a good time. I spend lots of time with my family which I like to do. If I were to date what would you do?"

He spoke into the phone, "Nothing."

"You would stay home while I went out?"

"Yes. You know I don't have the money or time. Between work and school there's no time. I don't have many free weekends but when I do I want to spend them with you."

Her irritation and distrust vanished. Her voice, dripping honey, replied, "Miguel, I'm really touched by your selflessness. I just don't think it's a good idea. While I love you dearly I think it's best to avoid temptation."

"You're tempted?"

"That's not what I said. I physically ache for your touch Miguel. It would be hard to date and keep him at arm's length. He would be nothing more than a surrogate, but I also don't want to do anything that might lead me to develop feelings for him. I am a one man woman Miguel and you're the man I want." 

"And you're the woman I want." He started to say more, to remind her their long distance relationship would be for years. It might not end when he graduated as she would still have a year left of college. Where he found employment would dictate where he lived.

"Miguel, it's settled. We can always readdress this issue at a later time, but for now I am not dating anyone else but you." 

There was a firmness in her voice. He knew her mind was made up. Deep down he breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn't want her dating because he feared losing her. 

She suggested it was time to change subjects. She knew she sounded firm, even cold, but what she felt for Miguel was warmth. She thought, "What a sweet guy. Always putting my needs ahead of his. He must think I'm miserable to make such an offer. He'd risk losing me to keep me happy. I am such a bad person for what I've done and what I am thinking of doing. It's a relief knowing he'll be there for me."

She lowered her voice. She wanted to sound sultry.

"Miguel, have you been thinking about my feet?"

He softly answered, "I have."

"They miss you Miguel. As does the rest of me. I can't wait to be alone with you."

"Me too. I really enjoyed what you did with your mouth Jean. You totally surprised me."

She chuckled, "I surprised me too. The urge hit me. I'm glad I didn't ignore it. So you like me sucking you?"

"Very much."

"Good because I like doing it to you. I really miss your hands working on me. My breasts ache for the feel of your mouth. You make my nipples so hard Miguel."

She wished the phone had a longer extension cord so she could lay on the couch, but it didn't so she had to stand. 

"Wait a second Miguel." She put the phone down and quicky removed her nightgown.

She picked it up, "I'm standing in my brother's apartment completely naked."

She began touching herself, "I'm playing with my nipples. They're so hard."

She was rapidly working herself up. Even after all of her orgasms with Buck she was ready to have the big "O" again.

"I want you to touch yourself Miguel."

"There's no privacy Jean."

"I thought you said the laundromat was empty."

"It is, but what if someone comes in."

"It's late. No one will. Come on. Take it out."

He did.

"I want you to masturbate while I pet myself."

"Okay."

It didn't take them long. He pumped his cock and she rubbed her clitoris. Each could hear the other's excitement. 

"Miguel, I'm almost there. Cum with me."

He grunted, "Me too. I will."

They both came. He catching his seed in the palm of one hand, pumping with the other, cradling the phone with his neck and shoulder. His groan as he came was soft while she let loose a scream as she orgasmed. She felt like collapsing as it left her legs feeling weak. 

Afterwards he said, "Wow."

She answered, "Wow is right. You should see the smile on my face. I am one satisfied woman."

Masturbating with him on the phone emboldened her. She reached between her legs. She looked at her fingers; the consistency of her secretions was thick. She was fertile.

She told him, "Miguel, I'm tasting myself." She put her fingers in her mouth, "I taste good."

He didn't know what to say. What he did know is he had a palm full of cum and his now soft penis was hanging out of his unzipped pants. He used his free hand to tuck his penis back into his pants. He was about to tell her he was going to put the phone down so he could run to the bathroom and wash his hand off when she said, "Now your turn. Taste yourself. Go on. Do it for me. Please."

She kept cajoling him. He looked at his hand. His cum was still warm, its color off white, its consistency like the white of an egg. Her voice in the background offering encouragement he brought his hand up to his mouth and rapidly lapped it up. 

"Finished?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered wanting something to wash away the taste.

"Good. You have no idea how aroused I am right now. It's a good thing we're apart. I'm fertile. I want you so bad."

"I want you too Jean."

It was the first time they had verbally expressed desire to fuck. 

"Someday Miguel. I promise."

"I'd like that."

"I can't believe we did that. I taste pretty good. Did you like yours?"

He laughed, "Let's just say it's an acquired taste. I am so glad no one walked in."

"Me too. They would probably have you arrested, but don't worry I would bail you out."

What they shared, the masturbation, the tasting of their own emissions, and stating their mutual desire for intercourse left them feeling aglow. Love they thought was grand. Each felt giddy.

She said, "I think the next time we're alone we need a repeat performance. I want to watch you and I want you to watch me. Would you like that?"

He was open to whatever Jean wanted, "Yes, I'd like that if it's what you want."

She cooed, "Miguel, it's what I want."

They chatted some more until he had exhausted his roll of quarters. She offered to call him back, but the phone company blocked incoming calls from the pay phone. They ended their phone call telling the other, "I love you."

Jean went back to the couch and fell asleep watching t.v., thinking about Miguel, and concluding she couldn't lose her virginity to Buck. Miguel would forgive her, but it would shatter her parents' image of her and hurt them. She knew if she went to the ranch Buck would fuck her. 

She woke Sunday morning torn between wanting to go and determined not to give in. The day was torture. She cleaned her brother's apartment, made he and his room mate dinner, left it in the refrigerator for them to heat up, studied, exercised, forced herself not to think about Buck and to only think about Miguel. She returned to her house in the early evening and spent it with her parents. They wondered if her eagerness to be with them meant she wasn't ready to be on her own. After she went to bed they congratulated themselves on letting her spend the weekend away. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 15



Throughout the week Jean attempted to focus on anything but Buck. She found herself fantasizing about the Sunday that never was, he piercing her hymen, she crying in pain, the bliss the friction of their genitals creates, he filling her with his seed, she staring at his cock as it came out of her, sheathed in red. 

She thought about Miguel too; their phone call she would always cherish. She didn't find what he or she did gross, but erotic. It was no different than what the very manly Buck did when he put his mouth on her anus pleasuring her with his tongue, but it was obvious he had a fondness for his seed. What Buck did in the heat of their lovemaking was hot. She wondered how she would introduce Miguel to the joy of anal sex and to cunnilingus or as Buck put it, muff diving.

Towards the end of the week she almost went to Buck's ranch. She was positive she was no longer fertile. He could take her virginity. She didn't believing her absence on Sunday forever altered their relationship. She told herself he had found a new filly at the dance hall he frequented. She came up with reason after reason why she shouldn't go to the ranch, but deep down it was because she knew what she really wanted was no longer possible. She wanted to become pregnant the first time a man's cock was in her. She also knew she wasn't ready for the responsibilities of motherhood.



Chance Encounter Ch. 16



Thanksgiving day was bittersweet for Jean. Miguel missed it because of work. He needed the money and the company was offering overtime. He couldn't turn down the opportunity. Jean understood but it didn't make her loneliness any easier. Thursday activities with her family kept her busy, but Friday life returned to normal. She had no school. Her parents went to work. Her siblings were gone. She debated driving to the ranch and spending it in Buck's arms. The next time Miguel would see her she wouldn't be a virgin. Besides being horny and wanting to experience vaginal intercourse she had one more reason for wanting Buck to be the one to tear her hymen, to test Miguel's devotion to her. She was curious if his love for her would overcome the pain of her betrayal. 

She didn't, but the curiosity remained. She hadn't spoken to him since his call to her brother's apartment. His letters said he wouldn't be home until Friday evening. She wondered why she was having such warped, perverse, even cruel thoughts. It was completely out of character for her to be mean. She wondered if there was a relationship between her desire to test Miguel and her own self worth. She wondered if deep down she really wanted to wreck her relationship with Miguel. She told herself she didn't but she also couldn't explain why she obtained pleasure cheating on him and her growing obsession with seeing how far she could push him.

Miguel showed up Friday evening and they spent most of the next 48 hours together. She did find the back seat of his car cramped, but their physical intimacy, while significantly less than what she did with Buck, remained great. When he left Sunday evening she felt more in love with him than ever. 

The pressure of finals kept her focused, but once they were over she had a week to kill before Miguel would be home. He was done with school but needed to work. She considered paying a visit to Buck, but what she really wanted was to deepen her physical intimacy with Miguel. She decided it was time he ate at the Y. While she missed Buck's cock penetrating her ass what she really missed was Buck's head between her thighs. Nothing she thought compared to the orgasms she had from his tongue. 

She knew from past experiences Miguel was really into pleasing her. He had foregone his own climax making sure she had hers. She suspected he would enjoy anal sex, but would focus too much effort strumming her clitoris. Cunnilingus was a better choice. He wouldn't have to worry about anything but licking her to one orgasm after another.

The weather had changed from mild to cold in the weeks after Thanksgiving. It was she thought another reason why it was time to move their make out sessions indoors. When Miguel ate her for the first time she wanted to be on a bed.

When she saw Miguel two days before Christmas she noticed he was pale and skinnier. Her parents even commented how changed his appearance was from Thanksgiving. He seemed preoccupied, not distant, but not one hundred percent available. Between their two families they had spent almost no time alone. She sensed he was really stressed out. She was feeling a little irritable herself. It had been too long since her last orgasm. Masturbation she thought didn't count. She wondered if Miguel's moodiness would vanish once he came.

She felt she had to continue maintaining her image as innocent, but the temptation to assert herself sexually was becoming harder and harder to suppress. She knew if she acted on her desire he would be shocked. She wondered what he would do if she reached over, unzipped his pants, fished his penis out and jacked him off, or wrapped her lips around his manhood and sucked him, or shucked her panties, got on her hands and knees, and invited him to fuck her in the ass. 

Christmas Day her brother gave her the best gift ever, the key to his apartment. He was going on a ski trip the next day. His roommate was in Florida with his family. She would have the apartment for eight wonderful days.

She surprised Miguel on their next date. Instead of going to eat, seeing a movie, and then parking, she told him to follow her directions. On the way she asked if he was excited. He assured her he was.

They pulled up to his apartment complex. Miguel hadn't been there so he first thought the surprise was a party. It wasn't what he had in mind. What he really wanted was time alone with Jean, but he would be a good sport and enjoy himself. 

She announced, "We're here. Park the car."

He did and turned off the engine.

She got out not saying a word. He followed. She walked in front of him. She climbed the stairs. Still behind her he ascended the stairs. His eyes studied her ass. He had the urge to bury his head between her sweet cheeks. He hoped the party wasn't lame. He was ready for a beer.

At the top of the stairs she went to a door, but didn't knock. He stood beside her as she looked in her purse for something. She fished out a key and held it up, "My brother's apartment."

"You mean..."

"Yes, Miguel. We have it for the next eight days."

She liked seeing him as excited as her. He looked relieved. She teased him, "Did you think I was taking you to a party?"

He answered, "Yes."

"I wouldn't do that to you unless I thought you needed it. This is so much better than a party don't you think?"

"I do."

She unlocked the door and they entered. It was he thought nicer than any bachelor pad he had ever seen. He lived in a room, infested with roaches and silverfish, no amount of poison could keep them away. He shared a toilet and shower with an older man who was a bit of a mystery. He had no kitchen but used a hot plate. 

This apartment had a living room, a dining room, a huge kitchen, and two big bedrooms, each with their own bathroom. The furniture was new. 

Jean hugged him, gave him a kiss, and looking him in the eye said, "Miguel, there's a bottle of wine in the frig. Pour us a couple of glasses and meet me in the bedroom."

His hands shook as he fumbled with the corkscrew and kept shaking as he poured each of them a glass. He wondered what all this privacy implied. Were they going to do it? He hadn't brought a condom. In fact, he didn't own any condoms. He didn't want her to get pregnant. He forced himself to relax, reminded himself he was reading way too much in everything. Jean seemed so calm; if she were about to lose her virginity he knew she'd be nervous. This was just going to be another make out session, a really good make out session.

He followed the sound of music which was coming from the roommate's bedroom. Jean was standing. She had a bath towel in her hand. She looked at Miguel the entire time as she spread the towel out on the bed and removed her dress. She left her bra and panties on.

She asked, "Do you like?"

Miguel answered, "I like alot."

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear." She pointed to his crotch, "Does he like?"

His penis tented his pants, "Yes, alot."

They laughed.

"Get comfortable Miguel."

He interpreted it as an invitation to strip down to his underwear. He felt self conscious in front of her. She was lush, he was bony. She looked fit; he merely looked undernourished. She had a woman's body. He was older than her but felt he looked more like a teenager. 

As he took off his clothes she noticed just how skinny he was, "Miguel, I've got to fatten you up."

He forced a smile thinking, "She's disgusted with what she's seeing."

He started to apologize. She hushed him, "You have a nice body. You just need some meat on those bones. You're too skinny. Are you eating?"

He assured her he was, but he had a demanding shedule between work and school. He even tried to run for exercise and to relieve tension, but it burned off what little fat he had.

"Let's get on the bed."

She got on the bed. He got on top of her. They started kissing. It was nice being between her legs, his erection pressed against her sex. 

She whispered to him, "Take off my bra." He did. After caressing, squeezing, and sucking her breasts for the next ten minutes she groaned, "Take off my panties."

He hooked his fingers into the waist and pulled them down. She lifted her ass off the bed. He slid them down her thighs, knees, calves, ankles, and over her toes. He put them aside.

He studied her body, absorbed what he was seeing.

"Kiss me Miguel."

He got back on top of her and placed his lips to hers. Her skin felt wonderful to touch. He felt like kissing her all over and after they ended their kiss he acted on his urge. Her navel beckoned to him. He thought it was beautiful. He kissed it, then dipped his tongue into it. Jean squirmed.

He noticed she had a thin line of hair between her belly button and the patch of hair above her sex. He had wanted to taste her for months. It had been his obsession. He planted more soft wet kisses on her stomach glancing often at her pubis. He kissed all the way its border letting his face come into contact with it. Soft, coarse, springy he thought.

He looked up at her. She stared back at him. His expression said he had a question. She had an answer, "Go ahead. If you want you can kiss me down there."

He wasted no time. She spread her legs and he lay between them. Her pussy and his face were inches apart. He looked at it, suddenly not so sure he wanted to kiss her there. He inhaled her aroma; it was strong and intoxicating. Her labia were slightly parted and I could see a bead of moisture collecting on them. He thought to himself, "What if she doesn't like it? What if I'm no good? What if it's not as pleasurable as I've heard? Will I disappoint her? I wanted it to be not just good, but the best sexual experience she ever experienced."

He looked up at Jean, his mouth centimeters away from her. 

She said, "Go ahead, I know you want to."

He lowered his head. The first sensation was of pubic hair. He buried his nose and kissed her thatch. It felt bristly against his face. He licked her pubis. It was dry. He moved his mouth lower and ran his tongue against her labia. He pushed his tongue in and hit pay dirt. He had heard of heavy creamers and he knew Jean got really wet, but until he ate her he had no idea just how wet. Her juices literally began to pour out of her. He did his best to lap them up, but there was too much. His face and even the top of his chest were soon slick with her lubricant. The taste and smell were overpowering. He honestly didn't know if he liked it, but from the moment Jean inhaled sharply as he pressed his lips to her thatch followed by a 'yes' when his tongue parted her labia and made contact with her sensitive pink flesh he knew she did. She couldn't control her body and slow down the build up of her orgasm. It hit her quickly and hard. He had seen her orgasm plenty of times, but not with this kind of intensity. She literally fucked his face; he moved to match her rhythm hanging on for dear life. He reached under her and grabbed her ass and thrust his tongue into the source of all that wetness, her vagina. She bucked like a bronco and he held on for dear life like a rodeo cowboy. When she orgasmed she screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

She begged him to stop as she couldn't take any more stimulation. He got up and went to the bathroom where he washed her juices from his face. Her aroma clung to him. All he could smell was her pussy. It was as though she had marked him as hers. He came back into the bedroom to find Jean quietly relishing the experience. 

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. She asked him if he liked it and he said, "I wasn't sure." 

Her face expressed disappointment. "Really?" 

He described how strong the taste and smell were. He foolishly asked her if she liked it. She said, "It was great, better than anything I ever imagined." An imaginary line was drawn. She loved being eaten and she needed a lover who loved to eat her. Did his desire to please her override his sense of drowning in her juices?

She asked him a few minutes later if he would try it a second time. She assured him if he still didn't like it he wouldn't have to eat her again. There was a sadness in her voice. She had just had the best sexual experience ever with her boyfriend and he didn't know if he liked it. 

He didn't know why, but the second time for him was better. Her smell and taste weren't so overpowering, but intoxicating. It was as though the first time he had been given a glass of expensive scotch and chugged it. He was now sipping that scotch and enjoying its flavor, noting how superior it was to other scotches. 

He slowly explored her with his mouth but he also involved his other senses. He inhaled her scent and thought how good she smelled. Her inner flesh felt good against his tongue. He pulled her labia apart and saw her clitoris for the first time. It was bigger than the ones he saw in magazines. He licked it and then softly began to flick his tongue against it. He got the reaction he hoped for but instead of continuing he lowered his tongue to her vagina. She opened her legs wider and he pressed his face harder. He really felt as though her labia were wrapped around his face. 

Unliked the first time her excitement fed his arousal. As she orgasmed so did he his cum soaking his underwear. The towel underneath her was sopping wet. Her juices had run down the crack of her ass. He took a corner of the towel and wiped his face dry. Jean told him to get on top of her. She wanted him to cum too. She fought the temptation to tell him to lube up his penis, to fuck her in the ass. It would make him suspicious.

When he told her came while eating her she felt both relief and joy. She smiled and said, "I'm so glad. When you told me you didn't like it I was crushed. It felt so good I knew I could never not do it again. And now you like it so much you climaxed while eating me." 

Miguel's decision to eat Jean a second time was a wise one. Not only did he discover he really enjoyed it for both their sexual satisfactions he found out he was really good at cunnilingus. Jean didn't tell him but she did compare him to the older and vastly more experienced Buck. Her cowboy was really good, but Miguel's soft face and the gentle way he explored her with his tongue made the experience better. Years later she would hear an actress describe her husband's lovemaking style as womanly. Jean thought her description fit Miguel to a T; he made love like a woman. 

What Miguel didn't know was his cunnilingus and the quality of orgasms he gave Jean made it easier for her to stay faithful. He also didn't realize his ejaculation gave her an idea. She could keep up the pretense of being a good girl. She wanted to do alot more with Miguel's penis. She knew if she started jacking him off or sucking him or having him fuck her in the ass she would succumb to the bigger temptation, having him in her pussy. Even having him dry hump her was proving to be too big a temptation as was using her mouth on his underwear covered manhood.

Jean was wrestling with another problem, trying to reconcile her different sides. Friends and family perceived her as the ultimate good girl. She was the one they expected to remain a virgin until she married, the one who didn't cheat, the pure, loyal one. What she had done with Kelly and Buck was not her, but an aberration. She promised it wouldn't happen again. She wouldn't let it. To prevent it from recurring she pretended they didn't happen and she took her physical relationship with Miguel backwards on one level while continuing to enjoy on a different level their newest expression of intimacy, cunnilingus.

Miguel's eruption in his tighty whities as he ate her made it easier. She remembered how he climaxed sucking her toes. It was she thought the ultimate complement a man could pay her, to be so aroused by her he didn't need the soft grip of her hand around his cock, the soft, wet, warmth of her mouth on his cock, or the soft, wet, tight, warmth of her ass or vagina surrounding his cock to climax. All he needed was her body and his rocket would explode releasing streams of white cum into the safe confines of his underwear. She figured Miguel might not be getting the satisfaction he ultimately craved but he wasn't going home with blue balls desperate to release his pent up arousal.

She really liked Miguel's easy climaxes. She didn't see them as a problem, but as a blessing. With experience she was certain he would outgrow them, but for now she wanted them to continue.

She asked him to get them some more wine. He got up. She commented on his cute tush. When he returned with the bottle she watched as he poured them each a glass. He handed her a glass. She took it and used the opportunity to remark on his underwear's very visible and quite large wet spot.

"Did I do that?"

Miguel turned red with embarrassment. 

"Don't be ashamed Miguel," she chided, before adding, "I find it really sweet. You must think I'm really hot."

"I do."

"That wet spot proves it. Lie down with me."

He got on the bed. She offered a toast, "To us."

She looked at him searching for the right words. She saw he was staring at her breasts. Even she had to admit they looked inviting. She asked if he wanted to suck them. 

"Yes,"

"Go ahead, but first let me pour some wine on them." She poured some of the wine from her glass onto each one. He bent his head and sucked one; a minute or two later he sucked the other. 

"That feels good, Miguel. Does it feel good to you too?"

He nodded yes.

"Keep sucking. I want to discuss something with you, something very important."

His eyes got big and he started to say something but she encouraged him to keep his mouth glued to her breast and allow her to talk. She ran her fingers through his longish blonde hair. He stared up at her. 

"Miguel, you know how important it is for me to remain a virgin until my wedding night. It wasn't an issue until you and I started dating. I know it's not as issue for you, but it is for me. I'm having a harder time resisting the temptation to have intercourse. I hope you believe me when I tell you how much I desire you. I want to do to you what you do to me, but I'm afraid if I do I will want to go all the way. I really love what you do to me and how good you make me feel. Tonight I feel as though I achieved true ecstasy. Your mouth is wonderful. I know you enjoy it too but I also want to be fair to you. What I'm about to ask you is totally unfair, but I have to."

She paused for dramatic effect.

She groaned, "Damn, your mouth feels good. You are certainly not making this easier." She closed her eyes. She felt her body shudder.

She opened them and continued, "Would it be too much a sacrifice if I quit doing things to you? It would really help me avoid temptation, but I also know it's not fair. I know you orgasm doing things to me and I want you too. I just don't want you to be frustrated or think our relationship is only about me. If you can't I'll understand."

She didn't stop Miguel from taking his mouth off of her very swollen nipple. He wasn't upset at all by her request; in fact, his penis was throbbing. He had no idea why her request aroused him so deeply, but it did. 

"Jean, it's not unfair. I know how important your virginity is to you. I never thought any woman would find me too tempting. I'm flattered. If we do this does this mean I can't climax? I will try not to but I don't know if I can."

She wanted to kiss him, "No, Miguel. I want you to climax as often as you like. I just don't think I should actively help you climax."

He mulled over her words, "So it's okay if I cum while doing things like eating you? That is easy enough the first time I cum but what about the second or third times? Would it be okay Jean if I touched myself or rubbed against something the second time?" 

She answered, "That would be okay with me Miguel so long as you kept your underwear on and your penis covered. I just have to avoid the temptation."




Chance Encounter Ch. 16



Miguel's mouth on her breasts had been exquisite but their conversation was making her flood. She hoped he was receptive to eating her a third time. 

He was taking their conversation very serious Jean thought. She could tell he was thinking.

"Jean, it won't be a problem for me to stay covered."

She had a suggestion of her own. Her arousal caused her voice to crack, "Good. I don't want it to be. Now I have another favor to ask. I am so aroused by you right now. Would you eat me again?"

"I'd love to."

As he positioned himself between her legs she encouraged him to do whatever he needed to climax, to rub against the mattress or to touch himself. He chose to hump the mattress. Her third climax of the evening and his second were they both confessed the best of the night. 

Their arrangement worked unbelievably well. In the spring they attended a wedding. All Jean could think about at the reception was the bride and groom fucking. She got so worked up imagining the two of them having intercourse she suggested to Miguel it was time to leave. She gave him a knowing wink. At her car she told him she wanted to go to a hotel, but made it clear not for the purpose of intercourse.

She waited in the car while he filled out the registration and checked them in. In the room she kept only her stockings on. Miguel stripped down to his briefs. On a whim she decided to get on her hands and knees and to have her ass pointed at him.

She scooted to the edge of the bed. He stared at her buttocks and how the crack led to her swollen labia. She opened her legs wider revealing her rose colored anus and the pink flesh of her now open peach. 

He dropped to his knees. She could feel her juices dripping out of her. With Buck she hadn't hesitated when he put his mouth on her ass, but with Miguel she worried he might not want to. She worried about her smell and her taste. 

Her worries were needless. Miguel began kissing each of her buttocks and then pressed his face between them and started licking downward. They had been dating a year and he was finally doing what Buck did within days of meeting her. 

When his tongue made contact with her anus the drips turned to a flow. Miguel spent the next twenty minutes alternating his mouth between her vagina and anus. She experienced another first, an orgasm from his tongue on her rosebud.

He rubbed against the edge of the mattress and came as she did. They stayed at the hotel until late. Both loved the comfort and security of the hotel room. In between sessions of eating her they talked, caressed, cuddled, and watched t.v.

Miguel discovered something else that night; while being eaten Jean loved to have her asshole penetrated. After finding out how much she liked having her ass licked he decided to try and stick a finger in her. He found she was very receptive to having her ass fingered while he ate her. 

They skipped dinner and movies choosing instead to spend their money on cheap hotels where he would eat her again and again while finding ways to cum in his underwear. She really loved being eaten doggy style, especially if it involved analingus. 

Summer came and he moved back home, found a job, saved money for his final year in school, and spent all of his spare time with Jean. She caught him completely off guard when she told him she was ready to lose her virginity. She was the last of her friends to remain a virgin. She knew Miguel was the one. She was ready to experience even more bliss. Miguel actually tried to convince her to not base so important a decision on her peers. She assured him they were only part of the reason; the overriding factor was her feelings for Miguel. She loved him and wanted to be joined with him. 

She had Miguel make the arrangements and reminded him to buy condoms. She was too nervous forgetting how important lubrication was to her pleasure. Within minutes of entering the hotel she watched him roll a condom on his penis which suddenly didn't look so small. He asked if she was sure. She said yes.

She got on her back. He got on top of her. She guided him in. She was dry. She took some saliva and wetted herself. He pushed in, hesitated when he contacted her hymen, and at her insistence kept going breaking her hymen and causing her to cry in pain and beg for him to take it out. He came, withdrew, the two of them looking at his bloody latex covered penis. 

There was no bliss. Jean asked him for a towel as she bled alot. He took off the condom, washed his hands, and for the first time experienced sadness in their sexual relationship. It had been a very anticlimatic event. He felt bad for hurting her and he felt incompetent. She was quiet for the next hour. She told him she wasn't angry, that it wasn't his fault it went so badly, but she did feel disappointed. She wondered if it would be better the next time, but she hurt so bad she couldn't even contemplate a next time.

They cuddled and got over their mutual disappointment. Jean wondered aloud if being eaten would make her feel better. Miguel wondered if he was up to the task; he had eaten her on her period but she always had a tampon in. He somewhat grimly said, "It might." He really didn't want to eat her, but he felt obliged to. She had after all given him her virginity. She was the one who endured the trauma.

She looked at him, "You really don't mind. I'm actually pretty bloody down there."

He told her he didn't mind and assured her a little blood wouldn't deter him.

She got on her back, towel underneath her, and Miguel ate her discovering it wasn't a little blood but alot. He willingly suffered through it making sure the act was sensual, not mechanical. Towards the end, her excitement sparked his and he became as caught up in the moment as she. He had put his underwear back on after they had intercourse and when her juices flooded his face as she came his penis discharged its contents into his tighty whities. 

She profusely thanked him afterwards. 

He told her it was nothing. She said it was everything and finally got him to admit it had been difficult at first but by the end it was good. He even showed her his wet spot to illustrate his point. 

"Miguel, I'm glad we didn't do this first because if we had I don't think I'd ever want sex again."

He tried to console her, to tell her next time would be better, but she was skeptical about even trying it a second time. What he didn't know was deep down she was blaming her self. She wondered if God was punishing her. Buck's cock in her ass hadn't hurt as much as Miguel's breaking her hymen. She couldn't understand it. Her friends had said it only hurt a little. She felt as though she had been torn apart. 

She kept talking about how bad it had been and how awful it must have been for him too. He told her it was a let down but he didn't think it was going to be very good the first time. 

"Jean, we were both nervous." He leaned in to kiss her. 

She pulled away, "Miguel, go wash your face first."

He got up and went to the bathroom. She had never shown such reluctance before. 

When he looked in the mirror he understood why. His entire face and part of his chest were bloodstained. It suddenly made sense why she insisted eating her had to have been awful, a real act of courage and devotion on his part. He washed the blood off his face, then decided it would be better to take a shower.

He turned on the shower and invited her to join him. She did. They soaped up each other's bodies but she purposely avoided more than a cursory touch of his erect penis. He got on his knees and shampooed her pubis. She turned around and let the spray rinse her. With her back to him he soaped up her buttocks. She turned back around and staying on his knees he ate her as they showered. As he licked her he jacked off climaxing well before she did.

She was able to put the awful experience behind her. She told Miguel she did feel like a real woman and asked if he felt like a real man. He told her he did. There was a wistfulness in his voice that matched hers; they both wished it had been better.

At her insistence they had intercourse several more times over the summer. While there was no more pain there was also very little pleasure. She got about as much enjoyment from the penetration of her vagina as she did from her ass. She knew if he rubbed her clitoris as he fucked her she would climax, but she didn't want to come that way. She was positive it would only be a matter of time before she came solely from the thrusting of his cock, just like in the movies she saw, the books she read, and the experiences her girlfriends shared with her.

She wondered if she was built wrong and that Miguel deserved a real woman.

It wasn't a totally rocky summer. 

Jean decided it was time to reciprocate. On the family couch after Miguel had petted her to orgasm she let her hand drop to his lap. She pretended to not know what she was doing. She wanted Miguel to keep believing she was inexperienced. She did an excellent job deceiving him, tickling him, tearing up when he giggled, getting him to apologize for being so insensitive, pleading with her to not give up, and finally offering to show her how.

He placed her hand on his cock. She began to rub his pants covered lump. He stopped her telling to be gentler. She did. He swore she was a natural at masturbating him. Within minutes as they kissed his body stiffened, he groaned into her mouth, and coated his briefs with cum.

It was another month before Jean unbuckled Miguel's pants and with her fingers wrapped around his underwear covered penis and jack him. Two weeks later Jean pulled his underwear down and for the first time ever her flesh made contact with his. He came in less than a minute. Jean watched in awe as his semen shot out of his cock and landed on his belly. It took a half dozen tissues to wipe up his ejaculate. 

While he thrilled having her pump his manhood he noticed she lost interest if he took too long to cum. In a hotel room he ate Jean to climax. She was fertile and insisted on putting her panties back on before pulling his underwear off. She began to give him a hand job. Ten minutes later he hadn't cum and it didn't look as if he was going to anytime soon.

Jean looked frustrated and her arm was tiring. She was determined to make him cum, but her strength was flagging. Miguel asked her if she wanted him to help. 

She didn't hesitate, "Yes, that would be great." 

He moved his hand down down and she moved hers away. He masturbated, her hand resting on top of his as he stroked himself to orgasm. 

His ejaculate covered his belly. She looked down and commented on its appearance, thick in some areas, runny in others, off white in color. She dipped her fingers in it and commented on its consistency, like egg yolk only warmer.

She looked at him. She sounded excited when she asked, "Miguel, remember when you tasted yourself that night? Would you do it again for me?"

It was he thought a hell of a request, but he couldn't turn her down.

She dipped her fingers in it and scooped up a large amount. She put them in front of my mouth and said, "Please, for me."

He licked her fingers clean. She went back for more. He licked them clean. With only a tiny bit left she mopped it up with her fingers and brought them to her mouth. She licked her fingers clean telling him as she did the taste was gross. She also told him if she ever did give him a blow job he had better not cum in her mouth. 

They rarely went to a motel as he was saving for school. They instead returned to their favorite make out spot and after he had eaten her three or four times she would offer him a hand job. After three or four minutes of stroking him she would take his hand and place it on his cock. It was her way of letting him know to take over. She might keep her hand on top of his but more often than not she watched him masturbate. She would have a handful of tissues ready and when he told her he was about to cum she would place them to catch his seed.

He enjoyed putting on his show for her and it certainly resumed the flow of her juices. Normally she asked him after wadding up the tissues soaked with his cum if he minded eating her again.

Towards the end of summer Miguel experienced his first blow job. In the front seat of her car, with his pants and underwear down below his knees, Jean slowly stroked him as they kissed. 

She broke from their kiss and asked if what she was doing felt good.

He mumbled, eyes half closed, "uh huh."

"I can do something that will feel even better."

With no hesitation on her part, she bent down and took him in her mouth. It was his first blow job and it felt heavenly. He caressed her hair as she sucked him. He didn't take long to reach orgasm and her earlier admonition was long forgotten. He not ony didn't pull away; he put his hands on her head and kept it in place. He emptied his cream into her mouth.

She tried to back away but he wouldn't let her. When he finished ejaculating she wasted no time raising her head and pressing her lips to his. She just didn't pass him his seed, she literally spit it into his mouth. He was shocked but knowing it would be futile to pass it back to her he swallowed. 

Jean kept her mouth glued to his until she was sure he had swallowed it all. Mission accomplished, she broke away. Her first words were, "It tastes gross. If you want to do that in my mouth you're going to have to swallow it."

He apologized for not warning her and not letting her move her head away but he told her it felt too good. She accepted his apology and liked his rationale for it made her feel extremely adept. 

She asked, "Did it taste better than the last time?" 

He said, "No."

"But you swallowed it anyway didn't you?" 

He said, "Yes, but you didn't give me much of a choice." 

"True, but you could have waited and spit it out. But you didn't. You liked it didn't you?" 

He assured her he didn't like it. The taste was tolerable, but he only did it because she forced him. 

She continued to pursue the subject. To get her to let up, he admitted it didn't taste bad. She interpreted that to mean he liked it. 

She looked at him and smiled. She was suddenly both very tender and passionate. She kissed him. Minutes later they broke from their kiss and in a voice choked with emotion she told him she couldn't wait to be his wife. All she thought about was the two of them married and starting a family. 

He told her often thought the same thing. 

What Jean was doing was part deception and part realization. Miguel's cum tasted like Buck's. She enjoyed sucking his penis. She would give him plenty of blow jobs after they married and willingly swallow his loads, but until they were husband and wife she wanted him to believe she was the good girl. 

She also realized something about Miguel as she got to know him better. He had a passive streak a mile wide. At first she thought he was just easy going or just willing to please her, but even when she turned him down for something he really wanted his anger quickly turned into excitement. Worse she found herself aroused by treating him rather off handed. She began to make more and more outrageous demands of him. He would balk at first but if she was forceful enough or pouted he would do what she asked. His reward for obedience came later in the back seat of his car. With a victory under her belt she couldn't wait to reward Miguel with a taste of her beaver. Those were the nights she noted he always came while eating her. 

Her parents noticed the way she treated him, but said nothing remembering their daughter had always been bossy. They thought it was something she had outgrown, but were evidently wrong. It had reappeared over the summer. She had always had a dominant personality and they remembered joking predicting she would have a hard time finding and keeping a boyfriend. Her dad believed she needed someone with an even stronger personality while her mom thought Miguel was a good fit for her. He possessed an easy going manner and from what she could tell rolled with whatever punches Jean threw his way. He clearly loved her and she obviously loved him.

Jean was aware of her changed behavior. While loving Miguel part of her resented him. She admired his drive but hated he had to work so much. School came easy for him. He enjoyed studying. It was just the opposite for her. Her parents wanted her to have a degree and Miguel sided with them, but what she really wanted was to be a wife and mother. She was mad summer was ending and the weeks of separation she had to endure. She didn't regret for a second losing her virginity to Miguel, but she found herself wondering if it would have been a better experience with Buck. She found little solace with her girlfriends, many of whom bragged about their orgasms from fucking. When pressed to find out more details about their intimacies they were evasive. Since they weren't sharing neither was she.

If they asked her if she and Miguel were having intercourse she said they weren't. The only girlfriend she felt comfortable enough to confide in was her cousin. Her cousin admitted she and her boyfriend were also fucking, but after a few drinks in her she asked Jean rather rhetorically, "Screwing is overrated isn't it? I mean I don't know anyone who comes during sex. You know what I like?"

She gave Jean a conspiratorial wink before continuing, "Oral sex. Not doing it to him, but him doing it to me. Being eaten?" She felt she had to clarify because of the blank look Jean gave her.

Jean breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice she wasn't the only one. She answered, "Me too."

They talked some more about how good it felt to be eaten and how bad their boyfriends were at fucking. Her cousin laughed when Jean described Miguel and she fucking. She said it was the same with her boyfriend, but she didn't mind as it meant more time for his head between her legs. Neither of them talked size or staying power. Faster in their minds was better. Premature ejaculation was not an obstacle but a goal. They shared a lot of laughs that night about sex.

Miguel was also looking into why sexual intercourse wasn't as enjoyable as they hoped. They both loved the intimacy, but it was hard to really let go when the fear of getting pregnant was lurking below the surface. The act seemed mechanical; as soon as he came she wanted him out before he got soft. She always checked the condom afterwards to see if it hadn't torn. Her vagina felt good around his penis but his thrusting didn't seem to have much effect. She told him to not worry; intercourse was about his pleasure, her gift to him. His gift to her would come after marriage, with lots of babies. 

Miguel told her he had been reading up on intercourse. Most women didn't climax during it. Jean answered, "Of course they don't. Their clitoris isn't getting stimulated." 

Miguel had a solution, "What if I pet you while we do it?"

Jean thought it was a good idea; that was what Buck did when he fucked her in the ass. They tried it and found it worked. The orgasms were good, but they still lacked the intensity of those she got from being eaten. They also weren't as intense as what she had with Buck. She attributed the difference to the illicitness of Buck. Even though it was wrong and she felt guilty for doing it cheating made for hotter sex, not just with the man she was cheating with but with her boyfriend. 

Jean's view of intercourse improved, albeit slightly. She still felt somewhat disillusioned; the gap between what she thought and reality had been huge. Besides, intercourse made her worry about getting pregnant. She wished Miguel didn't have a year left to getting his master's. It wouldn't be a huge deal if she got pregnant then. He would be working; they'd get married. She was already hoping for a summer wedding figuring she could keep going to school while married.




Chance Encounter Ch. 16



Jean and her cousin didn't discuss size. Miguel was smaller than Buck and quite a bit smaller than Kelly but Jean didn't think it mattered. It wasn't until she saw her first porno film at a bachelorette party that she learned the difference between small, average, big, and huge. Miguel was small, Buck average, and Kelly big, but the actors she saw were huge. She wasn't so sure the actresses were faking their orgasms as those human salamis pushed in and out of them. 

She went home that night with an insatiable itch between her legs. She desperately wanted penetration. It was a pity she thought Miguel wasn't there because if he had been he would have been a very lucky man. Her parents were already asleep. She changed out of her clothes, but before putting on her nightgown she stood in front of the mirror admiring her naked body. 

Her tits were so big and firm. She pinched her erect nipples. She grabbed one and brought it to her mouth. It was the first time she had ever sucked her own breasts. It strained her neck but the soreness was worth it. She repeated her actions with the other one. She looked in the mirror her mouth latched onto her tit. She found the scene incredibly arousing. She stopped and began kneading her breasts. She needed something to put out the fire between her legs.

She spotted a candle, grabbed it, and slid it into her. She stood there fucking herself with one hand and rubbing her clitoris with the other. Climaxing a few minutes later felt good, but the furnace continued to burn. She needed bigger.

She grabbed her robe and put it on. She wandered into the kitchen in search of something large and phallic shaped. In the refrigerator she found a cucumber. Perfect she thought.

She picked it up noting how cold and hard it was. She put it back and looked in the meat tray. She spotted a package of foot long kilbasas. She opened it, placed it in the microwave, and heated it up. Suddenly self conscious she got a plate, put the kilbasa on it, grabbed a knife, fork, and napkin and returned to her room.

She locked the door behind her.

She grabbed a towel and put it on the bed. She undid her robe and let it fall to the floor. She picked up the kilbasa thinking it looked so thick and long. She opened her mouth wide and fellated the sausage. What she was doing felt deliciously nasty. She thought, "I'm still the same slut. Look at me. Sucking on a piece of meat wishing it was a real cock. Now I'm going to fuck myself with it. I'll never be faithful. Now I'm cheating on Miguel with a piece of sausage."

She got in bed, opened her legs, and slowly guided the monster sausage into her vagina. She hadn't felt so full, not since Buck's cock had been in her ass. She could smell the sausage's aroma reminding her self she needed to thoroughly wash down there before her date with Miguel. The sausage was seated against her cervix dripping juices into her. She pretended it was cum and her imaginary lover was going to make her pregnant. 

She began to slowly fuck her self. From the start it was so much better than anything she experienced when Miguel fucked her. It couldn't replace the feel of a human body on top of her or Miguel's kisses, but the feelings it generated between her legs more than made up for its faults. Each and every stroke stimulated the walls of her vagina. When the end bottomed out against her cervix she cried out in joy. 

She closed her eyes, "This is how I imagined it would be. This is what intercourse is supposed to feel like. Beautiful."

With each stroke the fat piece of meat made contact with her outer vagina bringing her closer and closer to the top of the mountain. She didn't want the climb to ever end. Her clitoris was throbbing, but she wasn't touching it. She increased the tempo because faster thrusts brought her even more pleasure. 

She mumbled, "Oh god, oh god, oh god, this feels so good."

At the top of her climb her orgasm hit her in waves spurring her to thrust the sausage as fast as her arm could move. She felt as though her vagina dilated. The thick piece of meat met less resistance as she opened up to accept it. 

She silently wished the moment would end with a torrent of hot seed filling her vagina. 

Her orgasm slowly faded and she slowed down lazily fucking herself keeping the engine of desire primed. She wondered if the kilbasa would last a second round or come apart. She decided against finding out. Taking it out she felt so empty.

She brought the cock up to her mouth and bit into it. She tasted her juices and the sausage's. She hadn't been hungry, but felt ravenous. Besides she thought, "I have to get rid of the evidence." 

She finished the sausage, put on her nightgown, and got back in bed. Drifting off to sleep she softly uttered, "I want a baby."

The soreness she felt between her legs in the morning brought a smile to her face. She replayed the night's events in her head wishing she could share what she did with Miguel, wishing Miguel could make her feel as good as that sausage had. She was looking forward to her date with Miguel. She couldn't wait to have his head between her legs making her feel so good with his talented tongue. 

She thought, "His mouth is going to feel even better tonight because of what I did last night."

She was in a quandary. She loved Miguel so much, but his penis would never make her happy. She thought about cheating, but decided against it. Buck and Kelly had been fun, but they weren't worth losing Miguel over. She wondered if they could come to some sort of an agreement. Could she make him feel guilty enough to allow her to see other men? She suspected she could, but didn't think he'd be able to stomach the humiliation for long. She couldn't blame him.

When Miguel arrived at her house that night, she announced she was driving. At her car she waited for him to open the driver's door. After he did she told him to get in. 

"Tonight, you're my date. I have our evening planned."

Miguel smiled wondering what Jean had in mind.

First stop was a convenience store.

"Miguel, I want you to go in and buy a Playgirl."

"Playgirl?" he asked.

"Yes. I want to look at the pictures of the men."

He was quiet and embarrassed. They had never looked at porn together. He didn't think she would stand for an instant if he looked at naked women. 

"Go on," she said.

She handed him a five dollar bill. He got out of the car and went inside. At the counter he had never been so happy to be the sole customer. He remembered how nervous he had been buying condoms especially when the clerk was his mom's age. Her smile had turned to a glare the instant she saw the box. He wanted to defend his actions and tell her he at least was being responsible, but didn't.

He asked the clerk for a Playgirl.

"You want what?"

"The Playgirl."

He looked at him like he was crazy. 

"You know it doesn't have pictures of women, just men?"

"Yes, I know. It's for my girlfriend."

He smirked, "Sure it is buddy. Whatever you say."

His comment stung Miguel who asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The clerk softened his tone. He didn't want trouble. 

"Look," he said, "I know the score. I've got nothing against gays."

"I'm not gay. If you don't believe me she's out in the car."

The clerk looked. His customer wasn't lying. She was he noted striking. 

"She's a hottie. I wish I was tapping that."

"Hey, she's my girlfriend."

"Sorry, just saying she's very pretty. Don't get your...," he stopped from completing the sentence, "I'm just saying you are a lucky man. Let me ring up your sale."

Miguel paid for the magazine. The clerk put it in a brown bag and handed it back along with his change. 

Miguel was seething inside. The man had accused him of being gay then made a clearly sexual comment about his girlfriend. 

On the way out, the clerk said, "I have more magazines in back you, I mean your girlfriend, might want to check out."

Miguel glared at him before exiting the store.

The instant he saw Jean's face he forgot about the jerk in the convenience store. He got in the car. 

"Do you have it?"

"I do."

"Let me see it."

He started to take it out of the bag. 

"Miguel, that's enough. I don't want people to see."

Another car had pulled up but he doubted they were looking. 

She put the car in reverse. A minute later they were at a Wendy's. She asked what he wanted. She ordered them food.

Next stop was the Broadway Arms. She gave him some money and waited in the car while he went and got them a room. He of course registered them as husband and wife. The clerk commented, "Sure you are."

He gave them a room.

Inside the room Jean suggested they eat first while the food was hot. On the bed they sat cross legged enjoying their indoor picnic talking about their respective days. 

When they finished she announced, "Now I'm ready for some of your loving."

They lay together on the bed and began kissing. She unbuttoned his shirt as he raised her dress higher and higher. They took a quick break, separated, and in a flash Jean was naked and Miguel was wearing nothing but his briefs. His penis tented the front of his briefs the precum dripping from it leaving a visible wet spot where it made contact with his underwear.

She got back on the bed and he laid down next to her. They resumed kissing but it wasn't long before his mouth began to make its way down her neck stopping for several minutes at each of her breasts before kissing and licking his way to the tender flesh between her legs. Laying between her legs she briefly lifted her butt off the mattress. He cupped a cheek in each hand and pressed his face towards her very juicy and tasty pussy. It reminded him he thought of a peach but so much better. 

Jean moaned and told him she doubted any of her girlfriends had boyfriends who ate pussy as well as Miguel. As he slowly savored her pleasure spot she continued to sing his praises. Not only was he an excellent lover but no woman had a man who spoiled her like he did. 

"You treat me like a queen Miguel. I feel bad because I know there are times I take advantage of your generosity. That's it, lover. Fuck me with your tongue. That feels good. I know you don't expect anything in return and that makes what you do even more special. You're driving me crazy Miguel. That's it; lick my asshole too. Ooooh, that feels nice. Stick your tongue in me. Too tight baby. Keep trying. I am so looking forward to the day when we're married. No more condoms. Making a baby. Lots of babies. That's what you want too, isn't it?"

His tongue pressed to her butthole he grunted out yes. 

"And after I give birth you'll nurse at one breast and the baby at the other. That's enough, Miguel. Lick my pussy some more. Lick my cunt Miguel. Are you my cunt licker Miguel? I think when we're alone I'll start calling you cunt licker. Would you like that name, cunt licker?"

His answer was hard to hear so she asked, "Did I hear you say yes? Did I hear you say you want me to call you cunt licker? Tell me you want me to call you cunt licker."

He took his mouth off of her asshole and looked at her. His eyes she thought were crazed with lust. Miguel had no idea what sparked this change in Jean's behavior and he was as even more surprised at his reaction. The way she was talking to him was super heating his arousal.

He sounded like he was begging when he said, "Yes, Jean. I want you to call me your cunt licker. I'm your cunt licker."

She looked arrogant even as she smiled, "Good. From now on when we're alone that's what I'll call you. Cunt licker. Now I want to hear you beg to lick my cunt."

He didn't hesitate. His self respect didn't matter to him, not at that moment, "Jean, will you let me lick your cunt?"

She was even more turned on than Miguel, but she had to remain in control.

"Yes, but first I want you to kiss it. Tell it hello."

He showered it with soft kisses mumbling hello pussy making her hotter by the minute. Dominating him she thought was such a turn on. 

"That's enough kisses. Now, lick."

And lick her he did bringing her to another first class orgasm. When it was over he did something she could only interpret as a submissive act. He remained between her legs but rested his head on her pubis. She told him, "I like where your head is now. That's where it belongs when we're alone standing by in case I need you to pleasure me again."

He wondered where she came up with these words. It was as though she was using an entirely new vocabulary on him. She had never referred to being eaten as being pleasured. She had never called her pussy a cunt or called him a cunt licker.

He lifted his head up. She patted it and pressed the side of his head indicating she wanted it resting on her bush. He didn't resist and laid his head back down thinking how nice her pubic hair felt against his face. He was going to ask her something, but forgot. 

He felt very relaxed.

Jean asked him a few minutes later, "Did you Miguel?"

"Did I what Jean?"

"You know. Did you while you were licking my cunt?"

No matter how many times she told him it was okay he still felt some shame. He wondered if he would ever be able to control when he ejaculated. He doubted it. Around Jean he simply got lost in the moment. Intercourse brought on even faster climaxes; a condom helped his stamina last a few minutes. He wondered what was going to happen when they married and quit using condoms. He knew intercourse hadn't lived up to Jean's expectations and he believed he was part of the problem, but it wasn't easy to tell your girlfriend. It was better to pretend there wasn't a problem and focus on what he did really well. Besides he loved using his mouth on her.

He responded, "Yes I came while licking you." He couldn't bring himself to say cunt.

She ran her fingers through his hair, "You need a hair cut. I thought you did. I can usually tell. You start to lick me really fast. Sometimes I hear you groan, but tonight you were quiet and I didn't notice a change in your licking."

She sounded pleased Miguel thought.

"I came when you started talking dirty."

"You like it when I called you my cunt licker? I knew you would. Well, that's what you are, my cunt licker. I'm glad you came. Don't ever think I don't."

"I won't. I promise." It wasn't a lie because he beat himself up for coming too quickly. He didn't know anyone who came as easily as he. A few of his friends confided they had problems reaching orgasm. His old roommate said his girlfriend appreciated his stamina, but he found it frustrating to give her so many orgasms. At times he found himself pulling out, too tired to keep fucking, and masturbated to get release. Miguel wished he had such a problem.

"Was your climax good?"

"It was very intense."

"So was mine."

He smiled liking her compliment. 

"Miguel, I have a question. Do you ever think about other women?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious. We've been dating over a year. I was just wondering if you were feeling the itch."

"Not at all Jean. There's no one I want to be with but you."

She patted his head, "Good answer."

He wasn't going to ask her but she prodded him, "Now ask me."

"Jean, do you ever think about other men?"

She hesitated before answering, "Some times."

His stomach started doing somersaults. It wasn't the answer he wanted. In spite of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach her answer excited him. He liked talking about sex with her. Besides what they were discussing was hypothetical. He was certain plenty of couples held similar talks.

"What do you think about?"

"You know. What it would be like to date someone different. To learn about them. The newness of it all."

"Oh. Am I getting old?"

"Miguel, that's not what I meant. Of course not. Haven't I told you I want to marry you? That doesn't sound like someone who is bored does it?"

"No, it doesn't, but what do you mean by newness?"

She smiled at him. It was he thought the sweetest smile, full of tenderness. He was glad she was enjoying their talk.

She was smiling because their evening was going exactly as she planned. She had been thinking about this conversation for weeks and her experience last night with the kilbasa told her it was time to quit waiting.

She did blush, but she couldn't help it, "You know. Like when you and I started dating, you know, fooling around."

"You want to do with other men what you and I do?"

"No, silly. What you and I do I would never do with other men. I would never let another man eat me or lick my asshole. It's too intimate. I wouldn't let them suck my toes either. Those are all yours."

"What do you think about doing with other men Jean?"

"Miguel, before i say anything. You know we're just talking. I don't want you to worry."

She looked at him before continuing, "Kissing and hugging. First and second base I would have to really think about."

"What about oral sex?"

"Never. Well, maybe on him, but not him on me. I think it's gross except when you do it."

He slowly exhaled feeling relieved, "What about uh, intercourse?"

"Oh, Miguel. I don't think so, but maybe. He would have to wear a condom if we did."

She clearly didn't see intercourse as intimate as cunnilingus. He felt pulled in many directions. Her pussy was literally below his face. She smelled good. He knew she was wet. If he started licking her they could have this conversation some other time. Or she might not ever bring it up again.

"Jean, do you really think of other men putting their penises in you?"

"Miguel, please don't overreact. It's just talk, but yes, I do."

"Cumming in you?"

She looked at him. She didn't want to sound vague or worse, indecisive. She also didn't want to blow it with her boyfriend. She thought the more confident she sounded the less likely he would be to bolt. 

"They wouldn't cum in me, but in their condom. It might not seem like a huge difference, but it is. If they don't wear a condom we might make a baby. It wouldn't be the end of the world. You'd make a great daddy. Besides you'll graduate in the spring and be working. You could support us."

What she was saying wasn't really connecting. All he heard was making a baby and he and Jean together. It actually sounded idyllic.

"I suppose so. It would be tough for you to keep going to school."

"We can afford it Miguel. With your income we could hire a nanny or I could just drop out and take care of the baby."

She was right. He was going to make great money when he graduated. Computer savvy analysts like him were in big demand. Absent from their conversation was parentage. He was the daddy. 

"What brought this on Jean?"

"I don't know if I want to get a degree Miguel. I just want to have a baby and be your wife. I've always wanted to be a stay at home mom. My dad is the one pushing me to have a career."

"What I mean Jean is what's making you think about other men?"

"Miguel, it's just fantasies. You have fantasies too; they're just about me."

"True, but you're fantasizing about other men making love to you."

"Not making love Miguel, having sex with me. You and I make love. They would just fuck me."

"You've been thinking about this a lot haven't you."

She felt her eyes tearing up and let the waterworks begin. 

"Yes, ever since we did it. Last night made it worse. I saw an X-rated movie Miguel. The women in those movies were acting insane, like how I get when you eat me. Only they weren't being eaten but fucked."

"How do you know they weren't faking it?"

"A woman knows Miguel. They weren't faking it."

He was the one who caused Jean to have such thoughts. He was the inadequate one. Now all she thought about were other men's cocks. What he found really disconcerting was the erection he now had as a result of their pillow talk. He felt nauseous, not arousal, but his 4 and a half inches of manhood was engorged.




Chance Encounter Ch. 17



He looked up at her. He reminded her for some reason of a child whose feelings had been hurt. He answered, "Yes, I know you love me." There was resignation in his voice, but he sounded sullen too. He was upset. In spite of being a great boyfriend it wasn't enough. If he had been two again he would have grabbed his blanket and sucked his thumb. 

He wasn't two anymore, but a man. 

Jean thought it time to end the conversation. She had dropped a bomb on Miguel. She needed to give him time to digest it all. Besides all they were doing was talking. Couples she reminded herself talk about a lot of things even uncomfortable things.

She decided it was time to remember why she brought him here, to bring her pleasure.

"Miguel, would you like to play with my feet?"

"May I?"

"Yes. It's been a while. They've missed you. This is a perfect time for you to get reacquainted with them. Get on the floor and kneel beside the bed. I'll scoot down. While you play with them you can get a nice view of my cunt."

It thrilled him to hear her refer to her pussy as her cunt. It sounded nasty. 

He did as directed. She placed her feet flat hanging her toes over the edge of the bed. She opened her knees wide giving him a great view of her wet pink flesh, her vaginal opening a stretched letter 'O'. Her flesh glistened it was so wet.

He started by caressing her feet, then kissing them, and with her encouragement sucking each of her big toes. She squirmed on the bed telling him how good it felt and how wet it was making her. She asked if it would be okay if she looked at the Playgirl he bought while he sucked her toes.

He looked up at her his eyes crazed with lust. He closed them for ten to fifteen seconds unaware he had done so. When he opened them he softly said he didn't mind.

"Thanks. I just want to look at the pictures." She took the magazine out of the bag and opened it up. He returned to sucking her toe. She moaned. His mouth really did feel good. She knew when he shut his eyes he was climaxing. She intended to coax many more orgasms out of him before the night was over. 

Miguel's climax hadn't cooled his passion. He imagined he was Jean and the toe he was sucking was a cock. He would like to see Jean suck a cock. 

Jean looked down at Miguel and pretended her toe was a cock he was sucking, getting him hard for her. The cocks in the magazine were big, but soft. She pictured Miguel using his mouth on them, making them hard, then getting out of the way as the man with the big cock fucked her.

She wondered if he would suck a cock for her. Some day she would find out, but tonight it wasn't important. 

She flipped through the pages. His mouth was too good. Her feet couldn't take any more stimulation but her cunt was ready for more.

"That's enough Miguel. I think it's time you put out the fire you started."

She opened her legs and scooted her ass to the edge of the bed. Draping her legs over Miguel's back she fed him her cunt. 

"Go slow lover, real slow because it won't take much to set me off. Your mouth is so talented. Ahhh, that's it, just the way I like it. Pretend my cunt is a canvas and your tongue a brush, painting me."

Satisfied he was doing as directed with his face buried in her snatch she picked up the magazine again and slowly turned the pages seeing each man go from soft to hard wondering who got really big. She pictured those hard cocks inside her, pumping in and out of her cunt, making her orgasm, filling her with their semen. 

She put the open magazine over her face blocking out the light and closing her eyes. Still not dark enough she thought about stopping Miguel and asking him to turn off the lamp. She decided not to because his mouth felt too damn good.

He ate her reading her body and changing his pace. 

He moved his hands up and joined hers which were twisting her nipples. She let him take over thinking he sensed they needed stimulation. She hooked her ankles together her heels digging into his lower back and undulated her cunt against his face. She really enjoyed face fucking Miguel. So wet she thought and his tongue so soft.

She fucked his face rather aggressively. At the end she took hold of his head and if it had fit she would have shoved it in her vagina. What did fit was his tongue. She felt her juices gush when she orgasmed. Miguel wasn't the only one she thought who ejaculated. Throughout the climb her juices flowed but at the moment of the big 'O' the flow turned to a flood. It wasn't pee, but juice from her cunt. 

She stopped him from licking her as the stimulation was too much to take. When Jean entered her hypersexed state she was open to anything and everything. She told Miguel to lay on top of her. Her voice sounded urgent. She kept her legs open. His penis was hard again tenting his very wet and cum soaked tighty whities. She found it amazing he could come and minutes later be hard again. The first climax only minutely affected his staying power. Even a third climax didn't mean the fourth would take any longer to achieve. His prostate and testicles she saw as real workhorses because Miguel seemed to never dry up.

On top of her she looked at his wet face, but instead of telling him to get a towel she said, "Your face is so wet. Look what your tongue did to me."

She stuck her tongue out and like a cat began licking his face, "I taste so good. No wonder you love to lick my cunt." He kept repositioning his head until she was done. He didn't feel any cleaner and certainly no drier, but he had found it crazily erotic. 

Jean asked him if he had a condom. He told her he didn't. She said, "Too bad. I really want you in me. I know you want to be in me too. Don't you?"

He told her he did.

"I hate condoms Miguel. When we're married the only birth control we'll practice is the rhythm method. It's the only one the church approves of."

She calculated aloud where she was in her cycle, "Too risky Miguel or else I'd tell you to go in me. That would be so great wouldn't it? I can only imagine how much better it would be for you. Fuck me Miguel."

He positioned his cock head against her vagina and just like old times thrust into her shoving his cum soaked briefs at most a quarter of an inch into her. It wasn't a fuck, but more akin to masturbation. 

She loved the almost penetration, but wanted more. She began to rub her clitoris. 

Miguel had been looking at Jean and she at him, but the magazine drew his attention. It was open to the centerfold. He only glanced at the man noting he was handsome and his body muscular, but he stared at the flaccid penis he so proudly displayed. Miguel thought it looked huge and wondered how big it got. He thought about Jean's comments about other men. He tried to force the image out of his head, but all he saw was the man in the centerfold fucking Jean with his big, ungloved, cock, depositing a load of hot love juice into her oven, baking her a cake for delivery nine months later.

The thought caused his to start. Thankfully Jean was close so it wasn't a big deal. What he didn't know is she was thinking the same thing. 

Against her protests, he immediately pulled away as he began to cum. She was too close to being fertile. 

She thanked him afterwards for not listening to her. 

They cuddled. She asked him, "What would you do if I got pregnant?"

"Marry you."

"My dad would be furious. He would throw me out, beat you up. It wouldn't be pretty."

He smiled, "He'd have to catch me. Seriously though we could make it work, but it's better we not find out."

She said, "True. I wonder if it's because I'm about to ovulate I have this strong desire. I really want a baby Miguel."

"We'll have plenty Jean," he promised.

As they held each other she offered him a breast to suck, "They're big now. Just think how big they'll be when I get knocked up."

It prompted him to ask, "Do you really think about....?"

She finished his thought, "Other men fucking me? I do Miguel, but it's only thoughts. No other man but you is going to have his penis in me."

She caressed his scalp. He sucked harder on her nipple. It made her words tolerable he thought. He was glad she had shared her thoughts with him, but it didn't lessen his pain. As far back as he could remember he had struggled with feeling inadequate. His brothers were tall, broad shouldered, slim waisted, muscular, athletic, and handsome. He favored his dad. His brothers weren't dumb, but school didn't come easy for them while it was a breeze for him. The only other things he did better were housework and running. Since he was little he had helped his dad with the house. His dad also taught him to cook. Running made him feel like he belonged that he fit in. 

Jean was the first woman he ever really dated. Being with her made him feel confident that he was as good as the next guy. Eating and petting her to so many orgasms boosted his confidence further, but since they began having intercourse the old feelings of inadequacy had begun to creep back in. Worse still was in spite of all he did for emotionally and sexually he felt she deserved better than what he had to offer.

He was feeling like he had with two other girls he went steady with in junior high and high school. Within days of becoming a couple other boys moved in and like a stump on a log he did nothing to stop them. It hadn't bothered him as much because he wasn't vested, but this time was different.

He was in love with Jean. When she said she wanted to marry him he was thinking how much he wanted to marry her. The thoughts she was now sharing were hard for him to accept which is why he was sucking her breast so hard. Flicking his tongue on her very erect nipple made the pain tolerable. If he could have he would have stayed latched to her breast until the feelings she was having went away. 

Like the other two times both girls told him they really liked him, but they didn't say no to the other boys when asked out. His brothers told him the girls were challenging him to fight over them; it seemed so childish he refused to believe it.

He now wondered if they had been right. Was Jean challenging him? He was ready to fight for her. He wouldn't threaten to leave her but show her none was as dedicated to her as he. She could walk all over him and he would never leave. 

As Miguel nursed at Jean's breast, Jean was imagining what it would be like to have a man as handsome, strong, and big cocked as the centerfold between her legs. The thought of another man fucking her, the two of them orgasming together, filling her with his seed, was breathing new life into the fire she had just put out with her fingers.

She was glad she had 'put it out there'. Miguel hadn't blown up or ran out. He looked adorable his mouth latched onto her breast. Miguel's fidelity was very important to her and her fidelity to him was equally important. She believed she was capable of separating sex from love. She wasn't so sure about Miguel. If he strayed she feared it marked the end of them.

It was a great relief gettings her feelings off her chest and sharing them. She didn't believe the burden was hers to carry alone. Miguel had a hand in this; it was only right he share the load. True love is unconditional. She still loved him and he should, in spite of her thoughts about other men, still love her. If he didn't then he never really did love her. 

Miguel was so good at reading her, anticipating what she wanted, not just sexually, but with everything. This was the first time since they started dating she pointed out something he didn't do right and probably would never be very good at doing. 

She mussed his hair thinking, "Poor boy, this has got to be hard for your ego." What Miguel didn't know was Jean envied him. Girls liked him and that bothered her. School came super easy for him. She hated running but he made it look so easy. It felt good knowing he sucked at fucking. For once she felt she had the upper hand and she intended to keep it.

She had an urge to challenge his masculinity. She saw it as a way to assert more control. Without thought he always deferred to her. She now wanted him to consciously make that choice. 

She smiled at him and he looked up at her. She tapped his head, "I think you've sucked on them long enough. They're getting sore, but what you did also made me very wet. I saw something last night I want to try. Have you ever thought about putting your penis between my breasts and pretending you are fucking me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"A lot of times."

"I'm flattered Miguel. I knew you liked my breasts but I had no idea. You need to speak up and tell me if there's something you want to do. Now that we know you want to fuck my titties, go to the bathroom and see if there's any lotion. Bring it here."

He was off of her and back in seconds.

"Take off your underwear."

He was erect. She liked her effect on him. 

"Put the lotion on your penis and between my breasts. Now straddle me."

She pushed her breasts together and Miguel began thrusting in and out of them. As he fucked her titties she looked at the muscles of his torso. She liked his body. He had no hair except for a line between his navel and pubis. 

"Feel good?"

"Great," he grunted. 

"Good, take as long as you want. Enjoy your titty fuck. Pretend it's my pussy."

He was pretending it was her pussy and his eyes were glued to the centerfold. He imagined the man in the photo was fucking Jean. He went a long time having to apply more lotion twice. Jean encouraged him to take as much time as he needed. He couldn't believe how long he had gone and neither could Jean. She wondered if he was having a break through.

Nine minutes into his titty fuck Miguel's penis began to spurt stream after stream of cum all over Jean's chest. The first spurt caught her on the chin and the second under her chin; the remaining five or six landed on her breastbone. 

His lengthy performance drained not just his penis but his energy. Jean squeezed her breasts together really hard as he withdrew squeezing out the last bead of Miguel's cum. 

If she sounded enthusiastic she had reason to be. He had never lasted remotely close to nine minutes. In fact he was lucky to last three. 

"Miguel that was quite the show you gave me."

He blushed. He had no idea why he lasted so long. 

"Thanks," he answered.

She looked at him, "You're welcome, but if you really want to thank me I have an idea."

He figured she wanted to be eaten and dutifully started to move off of her. 

"Not that. At least not this moment. Remember our phone call last year. When you called me when I was staying at my brother's apartment. When you ate your cum."

"Yes," he replied guardedly.

"Would you do it again, right now? It would be so hot."

He briefly hesitated wondering what she really thought about his cum licking. 

"Please Miguel. Do it for me, for your girl."

"Okay."

He got off of her.

She had cum on her chin. He licked it up. She took his head and brought it to her lips. She could taste his seed when they kissed. She mumbled, "This is so arousing Miguel. You are making me wet."

Emboldened by her praise he licked up the cum under her chin kissing her neck as he did. She began to squirm. 

He then attacked the large deposit and sucked then licked up the cream on her breastbone.

"Don't forget between my breasts."

He didn't.

She became a tigress flipping him onto his back and a nanosecond later straddling his face. It was the first time she had ridden his face. Both wondered why they hadn't done this before. She fucked his face drenching it with her juices. She achieved orgasm rather quickly. 

She was now as tired as he.

She got off his face and joined him on the bed. She kissed his face which was slick with her juices.

"That was incredible Miguel. I never knew we could do that."

"Neither did I and yes it was incredible."

They cuddled and reflected on the night. 

"Seeing you look at porn."

"I saw you look too. Admit it. Those men are very good looking."

"True. And very hung."

"Fucking my titties."

"That was so hot."

"I can't believe you can cum so much. I don't think you've ever gone so long."

"I don't think I have either. I think it's because your breasts don't stay slick long enough. I had to stop a couple of times."

"Maybe you should stop a few times when we make love."

"It's hard to stop then."

She laughed, "I understand completely. I don't want you to stop either."

"Finding out you think about sex with other men."

"Learning you don't think about sex with other men," she quipped wanting to keep their conversation light hearted.

He laughed. He got the point. He was obsessing over what was nothing. He shouldn't let it bother him. It was talk. It wasn't like she was seeing other men. It was somewhat of a relief to know she wasn't oblivious or in denial about his unsatisfactory performance during intercourse. Maybe they could work on it. At least it wasn't getting in the way of their sex life. Eight orgasms between the two of them was a very good night.

"Seeing you lick your cum up."

"I never thought I would do that."

She teased, "In front of me or never?"

"You know what I mean."

"I bet you tasted it before our phone call."

"I'll never tell."

"So you have."

"When I was really young. After I started masturbating. Just once."

"I bet you looked really sweet. I wish I had been a fly on that wall."

"Did it really turn you on that much seeing me do that?"

She looked dead serious when she locked eyes with his, "You tell me. Wet enough for me to ride your face. It was very hot. I hope you'll want to do it again and again."

"For you I'll do anything."

"Good answer, Miguel. That's what I love about you. You are so selfless. You like making me happy."

"I do."

"I hope I make you as happy."

"You do or I wouldn't have done it."

"I don't think I'm as selfless as you Miguel. If I were a guy I couldn't have done what you just did or accepted what I told you."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't make you a bad person Jean."

"True, but it doesn't make me a good person either. I'm very jealous Miguel and I'm also spoiled. You spoil me even more."

He kissed her, "That's why you keep me around. Because I spoil you."

She kissed back, "Yes, because it proves how much you love me."

"Anytime you need proof just ask and I'll show you."

"You certainly did tonight. Staying here after I told you my thoughts. Eating your cum in front of me. I think that's more than enough proof to last me a while. I can't believe summer is ending. You leave in a few weeks."

"Yes, it will be okay. We'll make it work like we did last year."

"Miguel, would you marry me next summer?"

"Don't you need to finish college. I don't want your parents mad at me."

"I'll handle them. They'll be mad at me, but they'll get over it. Besides, it's our life, not theirs."

He had never heard her sound rebellious. She was the dutiful daughter. 

"Then yes Jean. I would marry you next summer."

They talked about marriage. Jean told him how she imagined it and the life they would share. They fell asleep.



Chance Encounter Ch. 18



When they woke up Jean was in a panic. She was an hour past her curfew. They hurriedly dressed. Still smelling of sex she drove them home. She kissed Miguel good night. He went to his car and watched as she went inside. He told himself the lights being out was a good sign. He hoped she wouldn't get in too much trouble. He remembered the last time she missed her curfew; her parents grounded her for a week. 

She was nearly a year older about to enter her junior year of college. Her dad was strict her mom not so strict. 

He went home. In bed thinking about the night he became aroused. He even stroked his penis a few times, but he had no desire to cum again. He literally felt drained.

The next day he called her.

She told him, "They weren't up but this morning we had a big talk. Actually my dad did most of the talking. I'll tell you about it when I see you this evening."

He got off the phone feeling relieved. They only had two weeks before school started. Then it was back to being separated for weeks at a time. He was tired of their relationship being long distance. Making the drive got old as did staying with his parents who were always glad to see him but he knew his stays interrupted their schedule. One brother had moved out and the other had moved out and recently moved back in. 

Arriving at her house later that day Jean's mom opened the door. She was as warm as ever. Her dad who was never quite so warm greeted him from the couch. He looked like a cat who had swallowed a canary. He shouted for Jean but instead of calling him Miguel he said, "Your date is here."

Her dad engaged Miguel in conversation and her mom brought Miguel a beer. They talked about the preseason and who looked good and who didn't. Her dad was a huge Cowboys fan while he liked the Oilers. 

Jean entered the room looking as beautiful as ever. 

Her dad said, "Jean, your date and I have been chatting. He seems like a nice young man except he's rooting for the wrong team."

Jean looked puzzled, "My date? You mean Miguel. He's not my date. He's my boyfriend."

Her dad answered, "True, but you are going on a date so technically he is your date."

Jean wanted to say, "Whatever," but knew that wouldn't be wise. She instead played along winking at Miguel, "Well, are you ready for our date. Where do you plan to take me? And will you have me home in time?"

Miguel said, "Dinner, then a movie, and yes I will have you home on time."

Everyone laughed. At the door her dad cautioned, "And no stopping after the movie. Straight home. You can sit outside in the yard."

Miguel answered, "Yes sir."

On the way to Jean's car he asked, "What was that all about?"

She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek, "I'll tell you later. He was just teasing you."

"I couldn't tell."

"He's like that. And no, we're not coming home right after the movie ends."

"Jean, I don't want to piss him off."

"Trust me. It's okay. I know when he's serious and he wasn't serious."

She chose the restaurant. Knowing he was tight on money she announced, "Dinner is on me." She then added, "And dessert will be me."

It was a steak house. She told Miguel she was craving meat and hoped he was too. 

After ordering he asked what happened.

She told him. He liked the way she recounted events, the inflection in her voice, her hand gestures. He could picture the scene. 

She got inside and had no sooner deadbolted the door when her dad shouted for her to come to the bedroom. She went to her parents' room. He asked her if she knew what time it was. She said she did. She apologized and offered up talking as an excuse. He didn't buy it. 

"Talking my fat ass. I'm sure there was a lot more kissing and hugging going on than talking. Time to nip this in the bud. We'll talk in the morning."

She didn't try to argue, not even to offer a 'but', as she knew her dad. She inherited her stubborn gene from him. She said, "Goodnight", and went to bed where she tossed and turned. Thinking about what they had been doing brought a smile to her face. She pulled the covers up thinking, "Besides, if he were really mad we'd be talking now."

At breakfast he issued her his decision. 

He had a fork in his hand as he lectured her. On the fork was a piece of sausage link. Jean couldn't help but focus on the piece of meat wondering if it would go flying off. 

"Jean, your mom and I talked. You and Miguel had your fun this summer, but come fall I want to see you with other boys. You still have two more years of college. I want you to have your BS before you're an M-R-S. It's not open for discussion so don't argue with me."

She said, "Okay. I'll date other men."

She took Miguel's hand and explained why she said yes. "He's not right, but he thinks he is and when he's like that there's no reasoning with him. He also makes it sound so easy. My phone is not exactly ringing off the hook. I'm not going to start advertising I'm available to date. In a few weeks he'll forget about this discussion."

Miguel asked, "What if he thinks you're dragging your feet and he finds you a date?"

She didn't want to worry him but she also didn't want to lie, "Then I'll go out with him."

Miguel didn't see she had many options. Jean changed the subject asking if Miguel had lifted weights after he ran. He told her he had. She said, "I want to put some muscle on you. I want us to be an active couple, exercising together. You have a nice body, but you need more muscle above the waist."

She teased him, "Show me your guns and I'm not talking about the derringer between your legs."

He flexed an arm. It would be a long time before he had guns. She squeezed his bicep, "It's little but very hard. Reminds me of something else."

He laughed not feeling offended. After last night his penis size was something they could joke about. Deep down he was glad she shared her fantasies about well hung hunks fucking her. He wished he had some fantasies, but all his fantasies involved her and he wasn't about to tell her he pictured her more than once last night on the receiving end of a big cock. 

Their food arrived and between bites she praised how good the meat tasted. His steak was good too. She said, "I don't know why but I've really been craving meat. The bigger the better. Look how thick and juicy this is." She pressed down with her fork and the meat's juices ran out. 

He wondered if there was a sexual allusion she was referring to when she talked about her steak. He certainly pictured several. He tried to erase them. They aroused him on level and upset him on another. He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts but he was. Big pieces of steak going in and out of Jean's vagina or her head bobbing up and down as she deep throated one. Only the steaks looked like the cock in the center fold.

After dinner they went to a movie and at Jean's insistence left half way. 

"More time making out."

He didn't argue with her. 

Her dad's mandate stayed on the back burner; it was there, but not an issue. Jean and Miguel's focus for the remainder of the summer was on each other. True to his word her dad left them alone. When Miguel left for college he would put the hammer down. 

The night Miguel left for school proved memorable. Jean and he had not had an opportunity to be alone for the better part of the week. She drove her car on their date. She had a place in mind for them to be alone. They went to their favorite place, a nearby junior high school and parked in back. They lowered the windows and turned the radio on, but kept the volume low. They began to make out in the front seat. 

She was the aggressor. She scooted next to me and began kissing him. She unbuttoned his shirt, played with his nipples which he loved, and then undid his pants. She pulled them and his underwear down to his knees. She began to caress his cock. She wrapped her fingers around it and began jacking him. They kissed as she pumped him. Her fingers he thought were truly gifted. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the headrest. Her hand felt wonderful as it pumped my meat. It was truly going to be a memorable hand job he thought.

He felt his orgasm approaching, the cum boiling inside, wanting to be released. He looked down as he liked to see his cock spurt. His cock, swollen with blood and lust, appeared huge in Jean's hand. 

Jean smile at him and he smiled back. She had a knowing look on her face as she commented, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

It wasn't a question, but a statement. He answered, "It feels very good. I am about to cum." 

She pumped harder, "Go ahead and cum Miguel. Let me see you shoot."

He grunted as his cock throbbed, tensed, and began to release streams of semen Jean masterfully captured in the palm of her hand. Jean continued to stroke him squeezing out the last drops. That post climax feeling men get after they cum hit him. He felt very relaxed.

Jean snapped him out of his reverie.

"Miguel, I'm sorry. I don't have any tissues." 

He answered, "It's okay." 

She said, "You don't understand. I caught it in my hand." 

He did understand. He had watched her collect his cum. Her quandary wasn't connecting. 

She brought her hand up to his face, "It's starting to leak through. There's no time to get the towel. Do what you did back in the hotel."

When she added please, she sounded desperate. He couldn't refuse her.

She didn't wait for his answer, but turned her wrist and ladled his seed into his mouth which was still closed. He ran his tongue over his lips tasting his cum and thought, "What the hell? Besides she gets off on it." He liked this kinky behavior of hers as he felt closer to her.

He opened his mouth and drank from her palm. It was hot, still runny, and he hated to admit tasted good. Not all of it drained into his mouth. 

He didn't get it all.

She held her hand up her fingers splayed, "Miguel, lick my fingers and palm."

Afterwards she hugged him tight slipping her tongue into his mouth. 

"Hmmm, I like the taste of cum in your mouth," she said afterwards. She continued hugging him, "You are such a great boyfriend. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't eaten it. You're such a sweetie. I can handle a little bit, but not as much as you make."

He felt gallant as though he had really gone above and beyond what was expected of a boyfriend. His discomfort eating cum in front of Jean was there, but her encouragement and enthusiasm made it easier, especially the way she doted on him afterwards. 

His penis looked shriveled. He pulled his underwear and pants up.

Jean's eyes had a glassy look about them; what he had just done had really aroused her. As if in a trance she stared at him, looking at him but not really seeing him, "Make love to me with your tongue Miguel."

They raced each other to the back seat. She beat him because he had to get the towel from the trunk. When he got in she was naked, lying on the seat, her legs open wide. 

They had chosen this particular parking lot because it was near Jean's house. It was also secluded, but not too secluded. On occasion, other couples used the parking lot. There was an unspoken rule of etiquette. Couples parked as far from one another as possible. The first few times another car pulled into the parking lot, they immediately ceased what they were doing, started the car, and waited to see if they were going to be harassed. They quickly realized they were in the same pickle, young people who still lived at home looking for a place that offered privacy so they could make love. They still remained vigilant, but less so as over time. With the exception of Jean's car, the lot was empty. 

Empty lot or not he didn't keep the door opened for long. He was taking no chances. He sat between her spread legs. 

She smiled at him, "You like what you see?" 

"Well, yes, but aren't you being risky?"

"I want our last night to be special. There's no one here but us." 

He looked at her body. His voice broke as he uttered, "You're beautiful."

She smiled and said, "Thanks. I'm glad you think so."

He didn't know why but he opened Pandora's Box. 

"I don't think it; I know it. You're not going to have any problems getting dates." 

"Miguel, I'm not going on any dates. I agreed to get my dad off my back. He'll forget about his ultimatum in a week. I just can't see him setting me up. Besides if I do go on a date you know they're not going to see me like this. I would be going to keep my dad happy."

He heard her but he also knew how men think, "I know you love me, but they're going to want you." 

"I've thought about that too, but I won't let it happen." 

"Not even a kiss? If I went on a date I would at least want a kiss." 

"Well, maybe a kiss. It wouldn't make you too jealous would it if I kissed them." 

"No. I'd be jealous but I could handle it." 

She was getting aroused by their conversation, "You know if I let them kiss me they are going to be hugging me and running their hands all over my body. Maybe I shouldn't kiss them," she said wistfully. 

He felt bad not wanting to share her as though he were letting her down, "As long as their hands stay outside of your clothes, you'll be okay." 

He should have ended it there, but didn't. He asked, "What about those thoughts you have been having?"

She knew exactly what Miguel was referring to but she wanted to hear it from him, "What thoughts are those?"

"You know about other men fucking, I mean having sex with you."

"Miguel, those are just thoughts. Not going to happen."

"But it could."

She wasn't going to argue because they both knew he was right. It was easier to think about than to actually do. All this talk was making her wetter and wetter. She needed Miguel's mouth, but no more talking.

"Eat me."

He got on his knees. Starting at her bellybutton he kissed his way down whispering, "I trust you Jean. I know you love me, but I understand." When he got to her thatch of hair he kissed and nipped at it driving Jean crazy. She pushed her pussy into his face. He moved back wanting to tease her. He kissed her inner thighs, first the left, then the right. He ran his tongue up the crease of each labia. When she could take no more teasing he parted her labia with his fingers exposing the wet pink flesh inside. He began to lick. She liked the feel of his tongue going up and then down each of her inner labia. He pulled them stretching the skin. He gave her clitoris a few courtesy swipes letting it know he hadn't forgotten it, but it was too soon for it to garner much attention.

He didn't plunge his tongue into her vagina, but swabbed the insides. Her juices he lapped up. When his tongue entered her she groaned so loud he thought she was about to cum.

"That's it my cum licking cunt licker. Fuck me with that tongue of yours."

He did but it wasn't fast thrusting, but slow, very slow. Darting in then darting out, ten to twenty thrusts, followed by a lap or two around her labia, a few seconds on her clitoris, and back into her love tunnel.

After his second series of thrusts he went south licking her perineum, nipping the flesh around her anus, then tonguing it.

"You nasty boy. Suck my asshole. French kiss it."

He did not having much luck getting past her sphincter. She squirmed and moaned, played with her nipples and voiced encouragement.

She also remarked on his last words, "Miguel, I might go all the way with other men, but believe me, I'll never let another man do what you're doing."

Her comment spurred him to lick faster. The thought of other men fucking her scared the shit out of him but it also aroused him. It was as though his flagging penis was a tired horse and her words spurs to the side of his penis. Painful but they got him moving in the direction she wanted.

He went back to her vagina, but this time he rapidly moved his tongue in and out of her. He really was fucking her and she was loving it meeting his thrusts with her own. They had a very nice rhythm going. When she was seconds from orgasming she yelled out, "Lick my clit."

He did fast and hard and her orgasm hit her like a truck. He wasn't just good, but great with his tongue, but the topic of their conversation really amped it up. She was in the middle of it her eyes closed when there was a rap on the window near me followed by the beam of a flashlight catching Jean in the throes of the big one. She couldn't stop. The rap on the window made Miguel look towards its source.

The flashlight's beam left Jean and hit him square in the face blinding him. 

The voice holding the flashlight ordered, "Sir, get out of the car. This is the police."

He and Jean nearly went into cardiac arrest. In all the time coming to the park the police had never stopped them. 

He got up, his face wet with Jean's love juices. The officer opened the car and Miguel stumbled out. 

Sensing he wasn't dealing with a couple of criminals or stopping a rape he had already decided he would scare these lovebirds so they found some other place to park.

He asked for Miguel's identification. He looked at it then Miguel's face. He sensed movement in the back seat and told Jean to stay where she was. She was he thought damn good looking. Watching her orgasm had made him very hard. He wouldn't mind a taste of that pussy, but not with his tongue. He rarely jacked off but tonight he thought might be an exception. 

Jean did as he ordered and didn't move a muscle. She stayed on her back with her legs open thinking she and Miguel were in huge trouble. She rarely cried, but this was one time where she thought tears might do her some good.

After blinding Miguel one more time with his flashlight, he asked, "Huero, is that you?" 

It was what everyone called him growing up. He answered, "Yes." He recognized the voice. It was Officer Zuniga who had soundly kicked his ass one night. He hadn't seen him in years and while he didn't fear him he still felt in awe of him. 

Miguel's neighborhood was poor; his parents were actually seen as prosperous. His dad was a shade tree mechanic and his mom a waitress at a truck stop. He never felt poor but he also didn't feel rich. In a sea of brown his blond hair and fair skin stood out getting him the nickname 'Huero.' 

When he was 12 or 13 he began to run with a rougher crowd trying to be a bad ass. What he and his friends did was pretty tame, but Officer Zuniga believed if you stopped the little crimes you wouldn't be dealing with bigger crimes.

After tagging a wall and busting out some street lights, the neighbors had enough and called the police. The cops arrived in several cars. He went one way and his friends in other directions, scattering like a covey of quail. He was the fastest in the group so it wasn't much of a challenge when he heard footsteps behind him and someone shouting for him to stop. He ignored the order thinking if he wants me he'll have to catch me.

Unfortunately his exit took him took to a dead end, a concrete wall 8 feet high. He raised his hands. Officer Zuniga kept charging, breathing heavily. He grabbed him by the throat lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the wall. He hit him with an open hand careful not to do much damage but he bruised his face and busted his lips wide open. Then he dropped him and began berating him while kicking him. Miguel made like a baby and assumed the fetus position.

Officer Zuniga didn't kick him hard, but hard enough for Miguel to be sore for days. He even once or twice nailed him in the balls making Miguel almost throw up. When he was done he told Miguel to get up and to go home. He also threatened him with a real beating if he didn't change his ways. To make his point at the end of the ass whipping he pressed his police baton against Miguel's neck.

Miguel rarely lied to his parents, but he lied that night. They didn't believe him, but his parents gave him the same advice as Officer Leo; time to find new friends. His brothers wanted to find the vatos who beat their brother. They pestered him until he told them what really happened. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 18



His brothers didn't like what Officer Leo had done, but they thought less of Miguel's criminal behavior. They told him he had a choice, find new friends or expect more of the same.

To the relief of his family Miguel found new friends at the Boys Club. He discovered something else; while he sucked at sports he excelled at long distance running. He kept representing the Boys Club track team until high school when he joined the high school track team. By the time he graduated he had a roomful of trophies. He also had no scholarship offers as track didn't bring in the dollars. Universities instead spent their money on football and basketball.

Officer Leo fingered Miguel's license before handing it back. He smiled, flashing super white teeth, "Miguel, you better wipe your face."

Miguel was wearing short sleeves so he used the shirt tail to wipe his face clean of Jean's juices. Miguel's real relief was not being caught by Officer Leo as he lapped up from Jean's palm his cum; that he thought would have been really awful.

Officer Leo grilled him about the girl in the back seat.

"Who's the girl?" 

"My girlfriend."

"How old?"

"19."

"Good. I was afraid you were with a minor and I would have to take you in."

"How long have you been dating her?"

"15 months."

"Sounds serious."

"It is." 

He moved on and said he kept track of me in high school, but lost track after Miguel graduated. Miguel told him he had a degree and was now close to getting his master's.

Leo looked at him and grinned, "I guess beating your ass paid off."

Miguel grinned back, "It did."

Leo extended his hand, "No hard feelings."

Miguel shook his hand, "No."

Leo then advised Miguel he needed to sit in the back of the squad car while he interviewed the girl. 

He promised, "It won't take but a few minutes. Standard protocol. Make sure she's here of her own free will and of legal age. She should be dressed by now."

Miguel digested Officer Leo's last sentence. He wondered how long Leo had stood there watching as he ate Jean. He pictured the flashlight's beam as it scanned the length of Jean's body. He told himself he had nothing to worry about; Officer Leo was a good man. 

He told Miguel procedures called for him to be handcuffed but since they knew each other and his interview with Jean was just a formality he would forego the handcuffs. Miguel thanked him before getting in the back seat of the car.

Before closing the door, Leo asked, "What's your girlfriend's name?"

He answered, "Jean."

Officer Leo said her name aloud, "Nice name. I like it. Pretty girl."

He opened the rear door of the police car. Miguel got in and sat down. Leo closed the door. He watched as Leo opened the back door to Jean's car. He couldn't see Jean as Leo's broad back blocked his view. Leo sat down closing the door behind him.

It was fifteen minutes before Leo and Jean exited the car. She came out the same side as him. He could hear them talking. She called him Leo and he called her Jean. They joked about leaving Miguel in the car. Leo told her she could get him out. 

She answered rolling her eyes grinning, "I guess so."

Still grinning she walked to the door staring at Miguel. She looked through the glass. He grinned back. With a flourish she opened the door and announced, "We're free to go."

Miguel got out of the car. Jean closed the door behind him. She gave him a hug. He hugged her back. Leo watched. He was smiling. Jean asked Miguel, "Was Leo nicer this time than the first time you met?"

Her question surprised him. He didn't think Leo would have told Jean. Then again, they were in the back seat for fifteen minutes. He wondered what else they talked about. 

"Yes, a lot nicer." 

Leo said, "See Jean, I told you there are no hard feelings between Miguel and I. I was just doing my job."

He then asked, "Aren't you going to tell him?"

Jean said, "Give me a minute." She exchanged glances between Miguel and Leo as she talked, "Miguel, it's a small world. It turns out you're not the only one who knows Leo. I do too. His parents and mine are old friends. We haven't seen other in years. He was a lot older than us."

Miguel and Jean both believed things happened for a reason. After all these years there had to be a reason their paths crossed. Miguel wondered if Leo's presence prevented something bad from happening. 

Leo answered, "And now the two of you are all grown up. Wow. Wedding bells in the future?"

Jean hooked her arm into Miguel's and answered, "Yes, maybe next summer."

Leo asked, "Are kids in the cards?"

Jean smiled at Miguel, "Yes, lots."

Leo chuckled, "Always the good Catholic. I'm not surprised. I just hope you're being careful."

Jean blushed crimson pretending to be offended by Leo's allusion to safe sex, but clearly pleased with his comment, "Leo." She knew he got an eyeful of her in the back seat but she didn't want him to think she wasn't a virtuous woman so she lied, "We are being careful; that's why you didn't see us doing it. We're saving that for marriage. Right Miguel?"

Miguel hoped his face didn't reveal his surprise at her comment. He would ask her why later, but decided it was more prudent to lie with her.

"That's right Officer Leo. We're waiting."

Leo looked at Miguel. If he was skeptical Miguel couldn't tell. Leo figured they were telling the truth. Jean had always been a bit of a goody two shoes. When she was young she play acted being a nun. It was also obvious she had Miguel wrapped around her little finger. He would do anything she wanted. 

He didn't know how to respond other than to say, "Good." 

He decided to give them the standard lecture on lover's lane crime. 

"You and Jean read the papers don't you?"

They both nodded yes.

"Remember what happened a few months ago. At Brackenridge park to the young couple. I helped secure the crime scene. It was horrific. Several men raped her which was bad enough, but what they did to her boyfriend was even worse. After making him watch, she was still a virgin, she watched as they beat and raped him. He wasn't small like you Miguel, but he was no match for them. I guess they surprised him. She's doing better, but he's having a hard time dealing with it. He blames himself for what happened to her but wishes he had fought them harder."

On that somber note, he shook Miguel's hands and opened his arms to Jean. She left Miguel's side and wrapped her arms around Leo. They squeezed each other tight. Miguel knew what Leo was feeling, Jean's big breasts flattening against his hard chest and her crotch against his.

He was a good 4 inches taller than Jean. She looked up at him. It was obvious to Miguel she was as awed by Leo as he was. It wasn't just his good looks or muscular build Leo had an aura about him. He exuded power and inspired confidence. One just sensed no matter the crisis Leo could handle it.

He stared back at her, "Promise me you'll be careful Jean."

Miguel might not have existed, "I promise, Leo."

He pursed his lips and she gave him a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, like a parent gave a child, but it sent a chill through Miguel. 

He stopped his embrace of Jean. He told her, "I'll call you tomorrow and we can figure out a time for dinner. Tell your folks hello."

Miguel's jaw dropped. The temptation to tell him was great, but Leo decided to have Jean break the news. 

While he walked to the driver's side of the patrol car Jean returned to Miguel and put her arm around his waist. She hugged him tight. 

Leo looked at them before getting in the car, "I hope you like steak."

"I love steak," she answered.

He flashed his million dollar smile and got in. Before driving off he gave her another look and tipped his finger to Miguel. He mouthed, "I'll call you tomorrow."

They watched him drive off.

Miguel's voice sounded irritated, "What was that all about?"

She pulled him to face her. She kept her fingers hooked into his belt loops and pressed his crotch to hers. 

Inside she was boiling over with excitement, but she knew she had to keep a lid on it.

Her voice was calm, "Remember my dad's demand? When Leo was in the car. We started talking and I told him what my dad had insisted on. He laughed saying it sounded like my dad. He remembered him as being very old school. He thought it would be funny if he showed up as my date. It would teach my dad a lesson seeing me with a much older man. Don't worry. It's just dinner."

Miguel felt powerless. It was junior high and high school all over again. The thought of losing Jean terrified him, but the tingling feeling coursing through his penis confused him. He was glad he wasn't erect, but figured if his crotch stayed pressed against Jean's much longer he would be. 

He answered her, "Jean, Officer Leo is a great guy, but he just saw you naked."

She brushed off his reservation, "Miguel, Leo is not like that. I'm sure he's seen plenty of women naked. He's like an older brother. I can't wait to see my dad's reaction. He'll freak. Then he'll shut up. Running into Leo was perfect."

Miguel didn't share her enthusiasm but kept his opinion to himself. He might have been more inclined to side with her a few weeks ago before she had shared with him her fantasy. He remembered the way she drooled over the photos in Playgirl. Leo was certainly centerfold material.

He decided it was pointless to protest. Her dad had made up his mind and she was going to obey. 

Jean thought Miguel looked a little pale. She suggested they go and get some ice cream. 

They got in the car, but not before Miguel went in the back seat to grab the towel. He pictured what Leo saw, his head between Jean's legs. He told himself Officer Leo was an honorable man. 

Towel in the trunk, he joined Jean in the front seat. At Sonic she ordered for the two of them. He felt queasy and went to the bathroom. He needed a few minutes away from Jean.

When he returned to the dining room Jean was already eating. She offered him a milk shake telling him it would help with his stomach ache.

Jean was so upbeat, her enthusiasm contagious. She kept telling him how great everything was going to turn out, to have faith in her. He assured her he did. She accused him of not not believing her. He assured her believed her. He convinced her he was on board. He promised he trusted her and no he wouldn't do anything childish like go on dates to get back at her. She asked him to promise and he told her, "I promise I won't date anyone but you."

She shared with Miguel what she knew. Leo worked weekends so they would have to go out during the week. She didn't think her parents would mind. As they talked he found himself answering questions she posed. Did she need to get her hair done? No. A new pedicure and manicure? Yes. Dress or pants? Dress. Which dress? Miguel's favorite, the burgundy one. Which shoes? The black high heels.

She squeezed Miguel's hand. "Isn't this fun? You helping me pick out what to wear. Should I leave it up to him or tell him what I want to do?"

"Leave it up to him."

"I think so too. I don't want to sound bossy. He remembers me as being very bossy."

Miguel laughed picturing them as children. He doubted if she got her way back then. Officer Leo didn't seem open to compromise.

"Stockings or pantyhose?"

He didn't know she owned stockings. "Stockings," he answered. 

She continued squeezing and rubbing his hand. "I want you to be part of this Miguel. I wish you were going to be here to help me get ready." 

Consciously he didn't share that wish, but her words stirred something in his subconscious, flipping a switch tied from his brain to his penis. It wasn't a huge electrical shock, but a steady flow of low current like a 9 volt battery makes in contact with one's tongue. Instead of his tongue getting all that juice it was his penis. Still soft, but full of electrical current. He sensed he was a hair breadth from climaxing. He wondered what it would feel like to cum with no erection. 

He gave her the answer she wanted to hear and the one his subconscious told him to say, "I wish I were here to help you get ready."

She looked at him to see if he was serious. His face told her he was sincere. Her heart was galloping. Her mouth was dry. Her nipples were hard and her breasts heavy. Between her legs was a leaking dam needing to be plugged. 

She answered loweing her voice, "Maybe one day you can."

He didn't purposely lower his but his words came out soft, "I'd like that."

She looked at him, "Let's take our drinks and go to my house. I know you have to get going."

She opened the driver's door and he got in followed by her. She felt completely in control and she loved the way it made her feel. She told him, "Turn on the radio. Find a station I like."

He did. He was quiet on the drive to her house looking at her and outside the window wondering why he rolled so easily. She said jump and his best answer was how high. He was pathetic. He was her little puppy dog. Even worse he was content with his role. It was hard to argue with her; she was just so damn good looking and more times than not she was right. Like Leo she inspired confidence. He felt their days as a couple were few. He thought they would make a good pair. It sickened him.

Jean told him to sit closer. She put her right hand on his knee. When she got to her house she was going to show him just appreciative he was. She was glad he hadn't argued with her. She knew he had reservations, but she would show him he had no reason to worry. He had yet again proven himself worthy. He was as her dad said, 'a keeper'.

She parked on the side of her house out of view. She turned off the ignition and looked at Miguel.

"I hope you know how much I love you. What you're doing isn't just sweet, but brave. You're doing it because you love me. I know you're worried, but you shouldn't be. It will all work out. After a couple of dates with Leo my dad will be off my back."

He wanted to believe her.

"If you think we're in love now you ain't seen nothing Miguel. After I'm done with Leo I'm going to show you what love is. I'm going to spoil you like you've never thought possible." 

He smiled. She began showering him with kisses, soft ones all over his face. In between each kiss she told him, "I love you, I love you, I love you." He told her he loved her too.

She suddenly felt worried. She feared he was just going to get in his car and drive away and never come back, "Give me a chance Miguel. Trust me."

He assured her he was and he did.

"You don't sound like it."

He apologized. He explained he was just overwhelmed. It had been a lot to take in one evening and now he was having to leave just when he thought she needed him the most.

She told him, "I'm a big girl Miguel. I wish you were here too, but I can take care of myself."

He wasn't so sure. 

She felt better and resumed kissing him. She whispered, "Miguel, do you have a condom?"

He told her he didn't.

She went back to kissing him. He loved the way she french kissed. Her kisses were so sensuous. He knew if he had a condom they would do it. He regretted not having one in his wallet. Her question made him feel better, but also made him wonder if it was a question she would ask Leo.

She broke from their kiss and told him, "Miguel, I don't care. I want you in me."

He was going to urge her to be cautious, but the look on her face told him she wouldn't be denied. She wanted the two of them to be joined and the absence of a condom wasn't going to stop them.

He had never been in her vagina without a condom. The idea excited and scared him. He knew he would climax quickly. She might get pregnant. 

She sensed his conflict.

"Miguel, I won't get pregnant. I just want you in me. Don't worry about me climaxing. I don't care if you cum quick."

An idea popped into her head. She wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. She wanted the closeness of intercourse.

"Miguel, unzip your pants and take your penis out, but hand me my purse first."

He handed Jean her purse wondering what she needed out of it. She pulled out a small jar of Vaseline. She opened the lid and told him, "Take some and spread it on your penis."

He did wondering if she thought Vaseline was a spermicide.

She lifted her dress up and straddled him. She slowly sank down, "Put in in my butt, Miguel."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Just go slow."

To make sure he hit the right hole she kept her sex pressed against his abdomen leaving a wet trail on his shirt. She did the guiding telling him to move it. When she felt the corona against her rosebud she lowered herself onto him. 

It was a good pain she felt. It had been a while. She was glad he was smaller than Buck. 

Fully inside her she asked him how it felt.

"Great. Tight. How about you? Does it feel good?"

"It does. I feel stretched."

He liked hearing her say his penis stretched her.

She said, "I was planning on riding you, but it might be better if I just sit here and you do the thrusting."

He noted she was right. He moved his hands to her bottom. Before grabbing each of her buttocks he felt where his penis entered her. He wanted to savor the moment. Unlike when he took her virgin pussy there was no blood and from what he could tell very little discomfort. He ran his finger around the area where his penis and her anus met. She did feel stretched and he felt big.

He grabbed a cheek and lifted her. She helped by pulling on the top of the car seat. He was glad she was strong. She sat there as he moved his pelvis up and and down sliding his cock in and out of her. She wished he could pet her because his penis felt wonderful making her think of the times Buck fucked her.

She looked at Miguel and told him she loved him.

He told her he loved her too. Whatever hurt and reservations he was having seemed inconsequential as he told himself, "Jean really loves me. This woman wants to be my wife."

What surprised both of them was his endurance. Inside her vagina even with a condom on he rarely lasted a minute. Inside her much tighter ass without the deadening effect of latex he went close to five. 

Jean's insistence on having some form of intercourse was to snap Miguel out of the funk she knew he was in, to remind him they weren't done, to make him feel desired and loved. It accomplished her goal because at the moment he climaxed he had decided neither Jean's dad, Leo, or any other man was going to run him off. He would weather whatever they threw at him. She was one day going to be his wife.

After he climaxed he thanked her and mumbled how much he loved her. She told him she loved him too. As his penis softened her sphincter pushed him out. He whispered into her ear, "Jean, do you want me to eat you?"

She looked at him, "Would you? I want you too. I was thinking of asking you, but wondered if it might gross you out."

"It doesn't gross me out. I've licked you there before."

"But I want you to lick all of me down there. I just thought you might not want to. You can pet me if you want to."

"Don't be silly Jean. I want to eat you. How are we going to do this?"

"I want to ride you Miguel. How about you lay down? I can keep an eye out for my dad."

"If your dad comes outside Jean we're busted. My shirt and pants are soaking wet."

She laughed and he joined her. What they were doing was insane.

She got off of him. She stood up, her body half bent over as he went from sitting to lying on his back. He told her he was ready. 

She placed a knee on the seat. He scooted further down towards the driver's door bringing his legs up to make room. 

She wanted his tongue on her ass first then her vagina. When she felt his tongue touch her anus she began to push down returning to him the ejaculate he had deposited in her. He didn't retreat but lapped it up. He then began to probe her now loose bottom for more. She realized as he french kissed her ass she wasn't going to need his tongue on her vagina. His analingus triggered in her a massive orgasm. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 18



She wanted to just sit on his face and catch her breath but she worried about suffocating him. She got off his face; he scooted down and sat up. She said, "Miguel, that was incredible. What I felt I can't believe. Your mouth on my bottom made me climax."

He grinned eating up the praise.

"I have one more risk for you to take. Would you go get the towel? I am soaked and so is your face."

He exited the car, quietly opened the trunk, retrieved the towel, closed the trunk and reentered the car. He felt like a soldier making his way through an obstacle course. She wiped between her legs then handed him the towel. It reeked of her juices. He inhaled deeply filling his lungs with her presence. He wiped his face dry.

She tried to sound upbeat but told him it was time for him to go. She walked him to his car. They hugged and kissed a few minutes before he got in. They promised to write. He told her he would be back in a few weeks and he would call when he had the chance. His car's radio worked, but someone had snapped the antenna off. It wasn't until he stopped at a truck stop to get gas he discovered it was nearly midnight.

He felt energized but still bought a coffee for the road. He went into the restroom and noticed the bottom of his shirt and front of his pants were still wet. He saw the dampness as a badge of honor. He was proud he made Jean so wet. The clerk's funny look didn't bother him nor the question, "Spilled something?"

He smiled, "Something like that."



Chance Encounter Ch. 19



Monday through Saturday, Miguel jacked off to memories of fucking Jean in the ass. Closing his eyes allowed him to replay the scene again and again. He saw her offering him the jar, he scooping up a handful, applying the Vaseline to his penis, looking at his very greasy erection, Jean straddling him, pressing her sex to him, the wet trail she left on his shirt, he holding his penis straight up and out, she lining up her anus with his penis, slowly entering her as she sat down, tracing the outline where their bodies joined, holding her ass as he fucked her, climaxing, followed by his mouth on her anus, she squeezing down feeding him, his tongue up her butt, she climaxing.

For those six days he was able to block Leo and Jean's dad from his thoughts. Jean's letters helped as she didn't mention Leo. The focus of her letters was on them and how much deeper she had fallen in love with him. She believed they had gotten exponentially closer as a couple; it was as if they were of one heart, soul, and mind. She didn't want to sound like her question was a marriage proposal but it thrilled her to hear him answer yes. She still wanted a formal engagement, but there was no need to ask her as she had asked him. She did want him to ask her parents. She was undecided about continuing school or starting a family and opined God would make the decision for her.

She told him she needed to figure out a way to see him and what might possibly be their first home. She couldn't wait to break in their bed. She told him she really liked having him in her bottom. She told him she had been wanting to try it and the moment just seemed right. Months ago one of her girlfriends had told her how much she liked it. Jean was incredulous; while she liked the feel of Miguel's finger in her bottom, she feared a penis might be too big. Her girlfriend assured her it would stretch to accomodate the larger object. As for discomfort if they used lots of lubrication and went slow she would only be a little sore. She wrote, "I was sore, but your soft tongue made it all better. Thanks." She ended her sentence with another smiley face.

She wrote, "From now on you can go up my butt. No condoms, no worries, and no pulling out when you cum. Next time I want to try it doggy style." She added three happy faces to the end of her sentence bringing a smile to Miguel's face.

She added, "When you kissed me down there I thought you were doing it to just to please me, but when you frenched me I knew you liked doing it as much as I liked having you do it. I'm so glad we can share our kinks. I can't imagine having anyone's mouth but yours down there. It's just too intimate."

She did mention their talk in the hotel, but cited it as evidence of their maturity as a couple. Instead of driving a wedge between them it had brought them closer. She understood his apprehension and he understood her curiosity. She emphasized the word curiosity by underlining it three times. 

She wrote, "I'm so glad you didn't blow up or freak out. You just listened and accepted. You knew I wasn't criticizing you. I know it wasn't easy to hear. Believe me, it wasn't easy for me to tell you. Having that Playgirl helped alot. I liked looking at the pictures with you there. After we're married I'm going to want a subscription. I never thought I'd like porn, but I do (haha)."

She cautioned him to be careful what he wrote in his letters. She hoped he understood. Her dad's behavior spooked her so she didn't want to give him more ammunition. 

Miguel responded to her letters. He assured her a summer marriage would work. He thought they should go and look at rings. He liked being asked but he also wanted to ask her parents and obtain their blessing before making it official. He would tell his family when it got closer. His parents adored her. His mother had told him Jean was the kind of woman he needed. She suited his personality. He agreed with Jean's observations. They were mature. He admitted his initial reactions were hurt and anger, but glad he hadn't lashed out. Since they were being honest with one another it would be easier if he felt the same as her, but he didn't. He wasn't trying to make her feel guilty and if she wanted him to lie and tell her he had the same thoughts he could. He doubted, however, she would believe him. 

Rereading her letters and his responses he marveled at the power of love. He was incapable of telling her no. She held so much power over him. It was as though she really did have him by the balls. He also knew she was making the rules, but she wanted his acceptance and support. They were a partnership and as partners she wanted his unwavering support. She wouldn't have mentioned that night in the hotel room if she wasn't interested in other men. 

Between the lines with the wolf Leo knocking at her door Jean was telegraphing him in code she was going to act on her feelings. Regardless of what she did she wanted them to continue as a couple. She wanted his blessing. By talking about a summer marriage and confiding he didn't have the same urges he was telling her he would support whatever happened. It sounded painless and simple in a letter.

On Sunday, those hands of Jean cradling his scrotum squeezed hard. 

He picked up the pay phone and dialed her number. After feeding the machine two dollars in quarters her phone rang. Jean's mom answered. 

She sounded apologetic when she told him Jean was out. When he asked if she went with someone she hesitated before answering. Her voice was soft and soothing. She knew her answer would be painful. It was also firm.

"Hello, Miguel. How are you?"

"I'm fine, keeping busy. School and work. Is Jean home?"

"No, she's not. She went to the movies."

"When do you think she'll be home? I'll call back."

"I don't know. Tomorrow she has classes so it shouldn't be too late." She chuckled before continuing, "Then again she's been out late every night this week."

He knew his voice sounded small, like his penis, "Is she seeing Leo?"

Her mom hesitated before answering. He sensed she was debating whether or not to lie, "Yes."

He answered, "Oh."

"Miguel, you sound surprised. I thought you knew."

"I did." He wanted to tell her everything, to confide in her completely, get her on his side, but he didn't.

"Leo says you two go way back. What a small world! Jean said you two ran into him at the movies. A few days after you left she told us Leo was coming over. Her father was speechless. Leo he asked. Yes Leo she answered. He asked a zillion questions. You know Jean's dad. Always quiet, but not this time. Although we keep in touch with his parents we hadn't seen Leo in years. He has certainly grown up. He was always athletic, but I forgot how muscular he is."

She started to say more but remembered she was talking to Miguel, Jean's boyfriend.

"I'm sorry Miguel. Don't pay any attention to me. We were just excited to see Leo again. It brought back good memories."

His head was reeling. He was momentarily at a loss for words. Finally he croaked out, "It's okay. Leo's a good guy."

He knew he came across as defeated.

"Miguel, so are you. Don't sell yourself short. Besides, Jean didn't say she was breaking up with you. She's just obeying her dad. I don't think they are serious. They just have a lot in common and a lot of catching up to do. She is like a little sister to him."

Her words didn't make him feel any better. He was tempted to say, "I doubt he's seen his sister naked in the back seat of a car," but wisely didn't. Her parents would shit bricks if they knew what she and Miguel did sexually. 

He instead asked, "Should I call back later?"

She answered, "Yes, but please make it before ten."

After the phone call he finished his laundry, returned to his apartment, and tried not to think about Jean. He did homework, read, watched t.v., exercised, went for a walk and counting the hours and then the minutes until he could call Jean again.

He walked to the laundromat, dialed her number, put two more dollars in the slot and waited for it to ring. It was 9:55.

Her mom answered on the first ring. She didn't sound groggy. She knew it was him.

"Hello Miguel."

"Hi."

"I was wondering if Jean was home."

"She's not home Miguel."

"Oh."

She tried to cheer him up.

"It was a beautiful day wasn't it? Did you go for a run? Did you see the Cowboys play? How is school going? What did you have for dinner? Jean tells me you like to cook. Her father doesn't. He's already asleep. I'm just watching t.v."

Miguel found the conversation maddening. He couldn't be rude and he couldn't let her know how he really felt so he answered her questions and even asked a few of his own. He was hoping he could keep her on the phone long enough until Jean came home. Instead of using the announcement from the operator to feed the phone more money Jean's mom told him she would wait while he put more money in. She made it clear she was there for him. She understood he was going through a painful patch. He considered the eight dollars in quarters money well spent. When he finally had to end his call because he was out of money Jean's mom wished him a good night and promised to let Jean know he called. Even though he hadn't spoken with Jean his spirits felt lifted.

He went back to his apartment, grabbed a beer, and sat down at the kitchen table. A dozen times he tried to put his thoughts to paper and a dozen times he gave up. It was after midnight. He got in bed, but couldn't get to sleep. 

He decided a climax might help him relax. He got his penis erect and began to stroke it. Up and down, up and down. He closed his eyes and began to fantasize. The mental images appearing before him were not of he and Jean, but Jean with Leo. He imagined them fucking, Jean sucking Leo's cock, Leo eating Jean, Leo sucking Jean's breasts, the two of them french kissing. 

The intensity of his orgasm surprised him. The first stream of ejaculate hit his chin, the second between his pecs, the third his navel. He used a finger to wipe his chin clean. Having no tissue or towel handy he licked his digit clean. He imagined Jean sucking Leo's cock. He wondered if it was as oversized as his muscles. He bet she swallowed. Leo just didn't the seem the type to take no for an answer. 

With the taste of cum in his mouth and streams of it on his torso Miguel drifted off to sleep. When he woke in the morning the aftertaste was still there. It and the now dried ejaculate on his torso made him feel like a total loser. He saw himself as pathetic, jacking off to thoughts of Leo and Jean having sex. He knew why he was thinking of them, but he didn't understand why those images produced such powerful orgasms. They should have shrunk his penis, but instead they overinflated it compelling him to jack off to relieve the throbbing.

In the shower he jacked off again to more snapshot mental images of Jean and Leo. Like the previous one his orgasm wasn't just good, but great.

He finished his shower, toweled himself dry, dressed, and went to school. He wasn't any happier, but he wasn't terribly downed. He pictured himself as coping. He would get through this one day at a time.

He wrote Jean a long letter at lunch. He didn't ask about her week or her weekend but did hope both had been good. He told her about his. He described how he called her twice and the conversation he had with her mom the second time. He ended his letter telling her he both missed and loved her. He mailed it on the way home.

He continued to write and to jack off to mental images of Leo and Jean. He received no letters from her until Thursday. It was a short letter. She apologized for not having written but she had been busy. She thanked him for being so supportive. She wished she had been there for his calls as she missed his voice. She was anxious to see him. She told him she loved him. 

He welcomed work and school as they distracted him from obsessing over Jean. 
It would be another week before he saw Jean. He debated on going home wondering if it would be easier to let their relationship wither on the vine long distance.

Like a faithful pet he continued to write to tell her about his week and to hope hers was going well. He did receive letters from her on Friday and Saturday. Like Thursday's she apologized for not writing more. As she put it there were not enough hours in the day. She was always busy. She was counting the days to his return. They had lots to talk about. She ended her letters with 'Te amo mucho (I love you a lot.)

He wasn't feeling very loved as her letters felt rushed. They just didn't seem as warm. He knew Leo was the reason she was burning the candle at both ends. No matter what her mother said they were beyond the catch up phase. He didn't know for a fact she was sleeping with him, but he sensed they weren't out late to just talk.

His reaction varied. At times he felt numb. Other times depressed. He even felt liberated. He sometimes felt anger. Mostly he felt aroused. Stroking his four and a half inches, five if he really stretched it, he understood and in a weird way supported Jean's attraction to Leo. He was everything Miguel wasn't. 
He mentally crafted scenarios of them as he pumped timing his orgasm with theirs.

He hoped Leo would tire of her and dump her. He then felt bad having such thoughts. He didn't want Jean hurt. He hoped she concluded Miguel was the man for her and she dumped him never to stray again, the itch she felt scratched forever. He also hoped her dad would get off her back and leave the two of them alone to pick up and return to whole the pieces of what he thought had been a great relationship. 

Sunday arrived. He took his laundry to the laundromat. Armed with another roll of quarters he called Jean's house. It wasn't noon. Her mom answered.

"Miguel, wait a minute. Jean just walked in the door. She was at church."

Jean picked up the phone. She sounded genuinely excited to hear his voice.

She made it clear this was not a good time to discuss anything deep. 

"We're about to all sit down and have lunch. Then we'll watch the game." It was clear she didn't want to take the phone to her bedroom. She asked about his week, told him she had received his letters, told him to look out for more of hers. 

He was bursting inside. He had questions and he wanted answers.

Since he knew her mom was so close he whispered, "Jean are we still together?"

She sounded shocked, "Of course."

"Is Leo having lunch at your house today?"

She answered, "Yes."

"Are you cheating on me?"

"No." She sounded a bit irritated. She paused and lowered her voice, "Miguel, don't do this. We already discussed this."

Her irritation didn't bother him.

"Are you having sex with him?"

Thirty seconds passed before she answered, "Yes." Her voice was flat, "Anything else you want to know or can it wait?"

He was furious. He wanted to shout into the phone, but didn't. He hoped his voice sounded equally flat, "No. It can wait."

Neither of them spoke for a good minute. She broke the silence.

"Miguel, I can talk. My parents left the room. What's come over you? I cannot believe how much you are overreacting. I thought you were my friend, that you understood and supported me. To start your phone call asking me if we are still together floored me. Trust me; if we ever break up you'll be the first to know and I will tell you to your face. I hope you never again doubt I love you."

Miguel ended up apologizing. The tears started flowing and he couldn't stop them. 

Jean went from angry to compassionate, "Miguel, I understand why you're upset. I'll do better writing you. I think about you all the time. Would it help if I told you more?"

His nose was running. He sniffed up the snot as he had no tissue. Her question surprised him, but not as much as his answer, "Yes."

"Really? You want to know Miguel?"

"Uh huh," he answered.

She sounded very pleased, "Wow. I don't know what else to say."

Like a mother fussing over a child she asked if he was feeling better. He told her he was. She asked if he was coming down. He said he was. She asked if he knew she loved him. He told her he did. She told him what she wanted him to do was to go home, watch t.v., write her a letter, drink a beer, and clear his mind of all the bad thoughts he was having. 

"Instead of thinking bad things I want you to think happy thoughts."

He asked if he could call her later in the day. 

She cooed, "Miguel, I don't know if I'll be home early. I don't think I will, but I want you to call. You can always talk to my mom. Who knows but maybe I'll get home while you're still on the phone."

He heard the doorbell ring and her dad's voice as he greeted Leo with a warmth he had never shown Miguel.

The doorbell was Jean's cue to end the phone call. She said, "Yo te amo mucho."

He parroted it back.

Even though the news wasn't good and the call too short it had been great to her voice and to know where they stood. Their future was up to him. He could accept her infidelity and move on or let it destroy them. To him it was a no brainer; of course he would accept her infidelity. He loved her. She loved him. Nothing else mattered.

He did as she requested. He watched the same game Jean, Leo, and her family were watching. He wondered if her dad gave up the couch so they could sit together. He imagined them holding hands or cuddling in front of her parents. After the game he heard Jean telling her parents she and Leo were going out. She didn't say where and they didn't ask. He saw them driving to his house, getting into his bed, and making love. Those thoughts should have made him sad, but they made him happy because when they were done Jean was still his. 

He wrote her a long letter apologizing for his behavior and thanked her for putting up with his juvenile antics. He promised it wouldn't happen again. He would never doubt her feelings for him. He also iterated how he understood the position she was in. He promised to be a better boyfriend and at some point in time an equally supportive and understanding husband. 

He did jack off to imagined scenes of Leo's cock going in and out of Jean's tight, wet, and warm vagina. He wondered if Leo wore a condom or did he pull out and shoot his cum all over her belly. 

At 9:45 he left his apartment and walked the two blocks to the laundromat.
He dialed the number. A second later a recording told him to deposit $1.85. He put in two dollars worth of quarters. Two rings later the other end picked up.

It was Jean's mom. She told him Jean wasn't home. She sensed he was about to hang up so she started talking telling him how happy it made Jean to be here when she called. She talked about him throughout lunch. Her mom didn't say if it made Leo uncomfortable to hear Jean talk about Miguel. She and Miguel discussed the game. They then talked about the meal. She said she missed having him help in the kitchen, especially with clean up. They talked until he ran out of quarters. She told him she enjoyed their conversation and apologized for Jean not being there. She also hoped he understood the situation. He told her she didn't need to apologize and he did understand.

He went back to his apartment. The hardness in his pants was now throbbing. He desperately needed to come. Throughout his phone call his subconscious kept reminding him Jean was late and Leo was the reason. He was talking sports and food with Jean's mother while Leo was fucking Jean. He didn't bother to strip when he got inside his apartment. He unzipped his pants, fished his penis out, and pumped. Thirty seconds later he filled his palm with fresh ejaculate.

Wanting to feel connected to Jean he did what she expressed turned her on. He licked the palm of his hand clean. He wondered if Leo's cum tasted like his. He wished he could tell her what he did in a letter but knew it would have to wait until they were face to face. He wished she had the same privacy he had.




Chance Encounter Ch. 19



He wrote her a second letter telling her about the conversation with her mother, emphasizing again his understanding of the situation and support, and telling her in quotes how his happy thoughts led to several happy endings, the last just before he wrote his letter. He assured her if she were present she would have approved of his handling of the situation.

He reviewed his letter. The word 'situation' kept surfacing. Situation had taken on so many meanings. It wasn't just her father's edict, but now included both dating and having sex with Leo. Now it also meant how he and ultimately they were handling it. 

He told her loved her and couldn't wait to see her. He had to work Friday but promised to be at her house Saturday afternoon. He also reminded her as discretely as he could he did want to know how she was filling the hours he wasn't there.



Chance Encounter Ch. 20



Monday through Wednesday were more of the same letters from Jean. They weren't long. She apologized for not writing more but she was staying out late. She added 'wink, wink' after the word late. Miguel interpreted her 'wink, wink' as a sign she and Leo were having sex. Knowing how paranoid Jean was and how protective she was of her reputation he wondered just how far she was going with Leo. Her behavior was completely out of character, but he noted it had been getting increasingly risky over the last four to five months. She was rebelling against her dad and maybe even society.

He responded to each of her letters, but since they lacked much in the way of details all he could do was tell her what he had been up to. He wished he could be as free in his letters as she was in hers, but she was adamant he keep them G-rated.

He focused on their emotional closeness and how saw their lives unfolding as a married couple. He was as keen to start a family as she. He was ready to graduate and start making enough money to support a wife and family. 

Thursday night after work he checked his mailbox before entering his apartment. Inside was a letter from Jean. His heart galloped because he figured the letter was written after Sunday.

He opened it wondering what the contents would reveal. Its length disappointed him, but the words breathed life into his penis.

She wrote, "Miguel, I'm sorry this letter isn't longer. I promise you the next one will be. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier today. I know this hasn't been easy for you. Your question floored me. Of course we are a couple. I consider you my soul mate. I don't think I could find someone as good as you. You spoil me rotten and you put up with my crap. You have no idea how much I appreciate you. You've made so many of my dreams come true. 

I don't think there are a hundred men in this world who would tolerate my behavior or my dad's interference, but you have and continue to. Thank you for indulging me. My dad is off my back but more importantly I've found answers to my questions.

Two weeks ago my dad was bugging me to date other men. Now he's worried Leo and I are spending too much time together. He hasn't said anything but I can tell by the way he acts. If he tries to stop me he knows I'll throw it back in his face. He's the reason I'm seeing Leo. I always pictured my dad as big and strong so it's disturbing to see him kissing Leo's ass. It's like he wishes he were Leo. I've bitten my tongue more than once because I want him to treat you the way he treats Leo, like a prospective son.

I'm sorry if you misinterpreted me Miguel but I thought after our conversation in the hotel you were okay with me having sex with other men. I should have been clearer, but I didn't want to hurt you any more than I had. My dad's demands and running into Leo seemed like a message from God. He was telling me to date and Leo, a family friend, and someone we both know and more importantly I feel comfortable with, shows up.

As to the sex I am having with Leo (please dont take this wrong)it's how I imagined intercourse between a man and a woman would be. The sad thing is it's not lovemaking. Miguel, you are my lover. What you and I do together is lovemaking. What Leo and I do is what animals do; they mate. It's not gentle or respectful, but savage. I have never wanted your mouth as badly. I hurt and yet I want him to hurt me again and again. I want his rough touch and I want your soft caresses. I am not torn between two lovers. You are my lover Miguel, but I am torn between my physical desires. I am not worried because I know your love for me is so strong. We will work out a solution we can both live with.

I can't wait to have your head between my legs Miguel.

Te Amo"

At times he did find her bluntness extremely uncomfortable, but she wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. He was a good lover, but a less than adequate partner to have intercourse with. Leo was a first rate sex partner, but someone she didn't love.  

He sat down, whipped out his penis, and jacked off. She hadn't provided much insight, but enough for him to picture their coupling as rough, more like animals than humans. He sensed Leo's cock was disproportionately large. He closed his eyes and dreamed of eating Jean, his tongue making the hurt of Leo's cock all better. As he imagined eating her he smelled and tasted Leo's presence. His cum oozed out of her vagina and Miguel eagerly lapped it up.

He shot his wad catching it in the palm of his hand. He immediately brought it up to his mouth and licked it clean. 

Friday he found it difficult to concentrate at school or work. He couldn't explain it but he had fallen even deeper in love with Jean. With everything out in the open he believed her when she told him she loved him. He was no longer fearful their relationship was going to unravel. Long distance he didn't see Leo as a threat. When he was in town she would focus her energies on him, not Leo. They would in essence share Jean, an idea he had come to embrace. Jean's happiness mattered more to him than his own. If this is what she needed to be content he wasn't going to stand in her way.

When he returned to his apartment early Saturday morning wet from the waist down and bone tired finding Jean's letter in his mail box invigorated him. His penis began to harden when he spotted the letter. Before he opened it his penis was fully erect. 

He closed the door behind him. Ensuring the shades were pulled down he stripped. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and stretched out on his couch. His body felt as though an electrical current were running through it. He swore his penis felt as though it was buzzing.

He took several sips of beer as he studied the envelope. He liked the way she sealed her letters with an imprint of her lips. He grabbed a letter opener and gently opened it. He retrieved the letter and with nervous trepidation unfolded the letter. He began to read the letter, holding it in one hand as he stroked his manhood with the other.

She wrote, "My beloved Miguel. Yes, I consider you mine. And yes, I love you. I miss you so much. I wish you were here. I worry you will grow to hate me. It would kill me to lose you so promise me you'll never leave me. I'm sick Miguel, lovesick for you even as I hunger for Leo. I'm so tired of being apart. Why aren't you here to help me get ready, to be the shoulder I lean on, to be the one I confide in? You are the only person I can discuss my feelings with. Even if my girlfriends understood they would condemn me. As to my family they have no idea. I'm not the good girl they believe I am. They would freak if they knew.

I know you understand how I feel. That night at the hotel I saw it in your eyes Miguel. You understood my curiosity and my arousal. It pained you to see me lacking total fulfillment. Why are you so good to me? Other men would have blamed me, but not you. You accepted responsibility. You even shared in my excitement at the prospect of achieving the bliss the nuns and priests drilled into me and my classmates existed. Your loving tongue and fingers take me there, but we both know it's not the same experience as the union of a man and a woman.

I wanted that experience and I was and remain grateful you wanted it for me. Each night I return home wishing you were in my bed waiting for me. I crave your gentle touch. I leave Leo sore all over. He is so rough. I swear I won't come back but I do. I stand naked in front of the mirror. My breasts are black and blue. My shoulders have hickies on them. My bottom is sore. I look a mess. I'm not getting enough sleep. My eyes have bags under them. I'm a vampire who comes alive at night. I suck, but it's only to get him hard. What I really lust for is to have him in me. My fangs are inside my vagina. I milk from him not blood, but his delicious cum. I hunger for his seed Miguel. I hate to see it go to waste when he holds my face and fucks my mouth but I greedily swallow it. 

After I put my nightgown on and climb into bed Miguel is when I really want you. I open my legs and feel where Leo and I became one. I'm so sore, but it's a good soreness Miguel. My labia feel swollen but my vagina feels stretched. I fantasize about you kneeling at the side of my bed, my legs draped over your shoulders, your face pressed against my sex, your tongue making me all better.

I hope you want the same thing Miguel. I dream of you reading this letter and masturbating as you picture Leo and I having sex. I wonder if you'll notice a change in me. Will I look content? Will I glow from being fulfilled by Leo and loved by you? 

I pray you don't feel rejected because I crave intercourse with you too. I love that closeness we achieve when we do it. And we need to do it more often. When I think of lovemaking with you I just naturally see you expressing it with your mouth. Is that wrong? The first night you ate me is the date I tell my friends we first made love. I could feel your love for me as your tongue pleasured me.

You're hard aren't you? Your beautiful little penis is ready to burst isn't it? I want its contents to explode all over your torso. It's late and I'm exhausted but I wanted to write you before I went to bed. We did it not once, not twice, but three times Miguel. Like a dog the first time, on my knees, my dress still on, my panties pulled off, my upper body lying on his coffee table, my breasts squashed against the cold wood. The second time in his bed, like a married couple, on my back, he on top of me. We were in no hurry. It was still early. He was very gentle. I thought of you. We talked and kissed as he slowly fucked me. An hour passed as he gave me one small orgasm after another. I soaked the sheets. It's good I lubricate so easily. When he was ready to cum he quit being gentle. I didn't care because I wanted it rough. I begged him to fuck me harder. I offered him my tits to savage and he did. 

The third time Miguel was when I was leaving. He asked if I had seen the movie, 'The Godfather'? I told him I had. He asked if I remembered the scene where Sonny fucks Lucy? I said yes, who wouldn't remember it? He laughed and pointed to the door. I pulled my panties off. He had me stand against the door. We started kissing. His hard on was poking me in the stomach. I lifted my dress so his precum wouldn't stain my dress. I also wanted to feel his cock against my skin. It's so hot. He put his hands between my legs and with his forearms on the back of my thighs and his hands on my butt picked me up. Then he just lowered me onto his dick.

I felt as though I were on a skewer. He is sooooooo big Miguel. He fucked me a long time. The angle was perfect because he couldn't move without stimulating my clit. I became more and more open with each orgasm. And wetter. His cock felt so good Miguel. At the end when he was really thrusting into me the back of my head kept hitting the door, but I didn't care. I just wanted to orgasm. When I got home I looked at my butt. I could see his hand prints. A few days later bruises appeared where he had held me. I hope they are still there when you get home. I should be ashamed of them, but instead I'm proud of them. Does that make sense?

Isn't it odd how we're drawn to each other? The weak pursue the strong. I don't think I've ever met a couple where no one is boss. I don't think I could be in a marriage where I'm not the boss. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. You like me being in charge, don't you?

Speaking of my butt, I have been craving to have you fuck me there again. It felt so good. A perfect fit don't you think? 

When you get this letter we'll only be days from seeing each other. I want you to come to my house. I have some things to do but I should be home in the early afternoon. My mom will keep you company until I get home.

Now if you haven't cum I want you too. And you know what I want you do afterwards? That's right. Eat it. Thinking about you licking your fingers clean makes me drip.

On Sunday I think we should go to Mass and look at engagement rings. I want you to meet Father Gene; he's agreed to be our priest when we marry. He just needs to know a date and a place. He also oversees the pre Cana classes. Just think Miguel we'll be a married couple this time next year.

Muchos besos mi amour,

Te amo

Jean"

As requested Miguel pumped his manhood and directed his ejaculate onto his belly. Dipping the tips of his fingers into it he took his time cleaning the cum off his torso. He imagined what Leo's cum tasted like and if it were plentiful. He noticed Jean never mentioned the word condom. He suspected Leo wasn't using protection.

He hoped Jean didn't get pregnant. He didn't know how he would handle the embarrassment of everyone knowing he wasn't the dad. He imagined the jokes told behind his back. He vowed he wouldn't let the humiliation deter him from marrying Jean.



Chance Encounter Ch. 21



Miguel only knew Leo was the first, not the third man, Jean had to some degree been physically intimate with. Jean decided it was better he not know about her previous deceit. They were water under bridge and no longer relevant. Learning about them might harm their relationship. They were in a mutually agreed to one sided open relationship and it began with Leo.

Saturday morning Miguel awoke feeling conflicted. He and Jean were sort of in an open relationship, but it really wasn't one. He had been happy but she obviously hadn't felt the same way. She had pretty much told him how the cookie crumbled. While he was in school she was going to continue dating and fucking Leo. For the time being he accepted it, but it wouldn't be so easy to tolerate when he was in town from Christmas break. It was also clear she expected him to be what she wasn't, faithful.

His honesty had left him no wiggle room. He had told her he wasn't interested in other women, but he had done so hoping it would make her reconsider. It accomplished the exact opposite, emboldening her. Miguel remembered promising her he would be true no matter what. She expected him to keep his word.

Over breakfast he mulled his fate. On the surface Leo fucking his girlfriend rankled him as did her obvious enjoyment, but that was just the jilted male in his head talking, the one who cared what others thought. He didn't feel betrayed but relieved she had found an outlet and a way to keep her love for him alive.

He considered himself lucky to have her. He wished he possessed her strength, her ability to get what she wanted. She led their relationship and had from the night she sought him out. He didn't know it but he was looking for a leader and she was in search of a follower. 

He was the leaf in the stream flowing where the current took him. He would hit rocks and might even wash ashore, but Jean's strength would propel him forward or get him back into the water. 

He was going to go with the flow. He was happy with his decision because his gut told him so and his instincts had always been right. He was what he was.

On the drive down he pictured his reunion with Jean. He wondered if she would appear different. She had such a pretty face. He couldn't wait to kiss it. He wondered what she looked like sucking Leo's cock. Her mouth wasn't huge. Absentmindedly he rubbed his erection. Another thought popped into his head. He really enjoyed jacking off but he really enjoyed it when Jean encouraged him too. It was as though she was part of the act, not two hundred and sixty miles away. 

He wondered if she encouraged him to masturbate out of guilt. He thought not because even before Leo she liked to see him make himself come. She described it as very erotic. She also told him it was obvious he was better at pleasuring himself than she would ever be. What she said was true, but he really liked it when she rested her hand on his or caught his cum as he pumped it from his balls through his short hose and onto the palm of her outstretched hand.

He doubted there were many women like Jean who admitted to getting off on seeing him swallow his cum. He marveled at her woman's intuition. She knew him better than he knew himself. She just knew he would like it and she was right. That's what he liked about her; she was always right. And that's why she called the shots.

Thinking again about their reunion after the kissing and hugging and the talking were done he knew what she would want, cunnilingus, to lie back, open her legs, and have his mouth pressed against her sex. He was dying to eat her. Intercourse was nice, but the act he thought most often of was cunnilingus. When she thought about them being intimate she felt the same way.

It felt so good, but not just because it made her feel great. It was like running, something he knew he excelled at, so he wanted to do it more. He liked how her excitement fed his. Oftentimes he climaxed when she did. She didn't express disappointment but approval. It made her feel desired that she was the hottest woman in the world. 

He pictured her vagina. Would it look different? Could he tell another man's cock had been in there? Would she taste or smell different, be more open? She said she had bruises all over her body. Seeing those would bother him. He was glad she had warned him and told him she liked Leo's roughness. If she hadn't he might have bought a gun and killed Leo. 

He chuckled thinking how crazy that notion was, killing Leo. He said aloud, "I guess that's what love does to you, makes you insane. I would die for Jean. I would hate to do it because I love Leo like a brother." He dismissed his homicidal thoughts and dreamed of eating Jean.

He loved her pussy, but her anus fascinated him. He wondered if they would have anal sex again. He hoped so. He really liked licking her there. He didn't consider it nasty, but deliciously taboo. He was glad she liked having her bottom played with. Three weeks later and that night's events still surprised him. Out of the blue she just knew what he needed to feel secure. Even though Leo and Jean had just made plans to go out he drove away feeling less threatened by Leo. She wouldn't offer her ass to just any man.

He was going to lick her asshole the next time he ate her. He knew she would want him to. 

He thought about her breasts. She had really pretty breasts. She said they were C cups but they looked bigger. He missed sucking them. He wondered if she would want him to titty fuck her again, like the night in the hotel room.

The hours passed quickly and Miguel pulled up in front of Jean's house saddened to not see her car. He remembered what she told him. Her mom would be home. She wanted him to wait until she got there. He got out of the car. At the door he felt nervous. It was going to be awkward talking to Jean's mom. He didn't want to be the first one to mention Leo but it wasn't like she didn't know he didn't know Leo was dating her daughter. There was nothing to keep secret. Jean had two boyfriends, one in town she wasn't so serious with and another out of town she was very serious with.

It sounded easier to think it than to say it.

He rang the doorbell. Jean's mom answered it. She seemed shorter than the last time he saw her. She opened the door all the way.

"Come in Miguel. It's so good to see you."

She gave him a hug, "You're so skinny. Jean needs to fatten you up."

He hugged her back. It felt nice, not erotic, but warmly emotional. She had big breasts and their hug made him very aware of them as they pressed into his chest. He wondered if Jean's tits would get bigger as she got older. He wouldn't mind if they did.

Her mom offered him a beer. It was a Schlitz which her husband drank. She told him to sit down. He excused himself and said he needed to use the bathroom. He went to the hallway bathroom, relieved himself, washed his hands, and returned.

She was on the couch watching t.v.

She patted the unoccupied cushion.

"Sit down Miguel."

He did. He picked up his beer and took a sip.

"Tell me about your week. You didn't call me this week. I've grown quite fond of our chats. I hope I was a good listener."

"Me too. You were."

"I'm glad you think so. I can only imagine how tough it is for you. I blame my husband for this situation, but he thought he was doing the right thing. He had no business meddling in Jean's affairs telling her who to date or not date."

He took another sip and found himself defending Jean's dad, "He didn't tell her not to date me. He thought we were getting too serious. He was worried she might not finish school."

"You're right. I'm surprised you're taking this well. I went through the same thing when my husband and I were dating. He had two girlfriends for a while, but then he narrowed it down to one, me. I see so much of my husband in Jean; they have identical personalities which is why they butt heads so often."

He admitted, "It hasn't been easy, but being busy and living apart helps. If she's still dating him at Christmas it will be tough."

She patted his knee, "I doubt if they'll still be seeing each other at Christmas. Leo is not the type. There is a ten year age difference between them. I know she's nineteen, but she's an immature nineteen. He's a very mature 29."

Miguel wasn't so sure, "They have alot in common. Your families go way back. And he is good looking."

She smiled, "True, but he's a bit of a narcissist. Look at the way he dresses. He wants everyone to see how big his muscles are."

"Well, he spends a lot of time in the gym. I guess he wants people to notice all the work. I wish I had his muscles." He flexed his arm to be funny. He had a bicep but it wasn't the size of a softball, more like a golfball.

She laughed, reached out, and squeezed it, "But it's very hard." 

She took on a serious note, "Miguel, you are what Jean needs. You idolize her. She has to be number one, just like her dad. She doesn't need a man who is better looking than her. I love my daughter, but let's be truthful. She's beautiful, but she's no ten. If she stays with Leo she'll be miserable."

"I'm glad you like me, but it's ultimately up to Jean. Besides she told me they're not serious."

"For not being serious they spend a lot of time together Miguel. She's at the movies with him now."

Miguel felt a wave of heat course through his body. She noticed it too.

"Are you okay Miguel? You look flushed. I hope I didn't upset you."

He took a big gulp of beer wanting to calm down. Her mom didn't realize the complexity of the situation and he wasn't about to give her insight. She saw her daughter as a good girl and Leo and Miguel as two respectful suitors. Something else was as hard as a golf ball and it wasn't his biceps.

He looked at her, "She told me she had plans earlier in the day, but she wanted me here because she couldn't wait to see me." He hoped he didn't sound pathetic. He wasn't looking for pity.

"So you knew she had plans with Leo?"

"Not exactly, but I thought that's what she meant. I told her when I thought I might be here, but she had already made her plans for today. She said she would be home as soon as she could."

"That was considerate of you Miguel."

"Thanks." He wondered if she considered him a fool. He wished his penis would cease its throbbing. It was bound in his underwear. Fidgeting would only draw her attention. 

He was glad when she said, "Enough about Leo and Jean. Let's talk about you and Jean. She says you graduate in the spring. Do you think you'll work down here? I asked her what happens if you get a job elsewhere. She just smiled and said, 'Don't be surprised if we have a summer wedding then." Are you two really that serious? I won't tell her father. I just don't understand she and Leo. Perhaps she is really trying to rub her father's nose in it. That would be like Jean." She chuckled.

He laughed with her, "Yes, we are that serious. I don't try and analyze everything Jean does. She has her reasons. I would want you and your husband's blessing before I ask her. In the end it will all work out or it won't." 

He hoped he came across as pragmatic, worldly, detached, analytical but not sound cold or indifferent.

He did.

She patted his knee again. He had the strangest sexual thought. For a split second he wished she were patting the iron in his pants. All it would take for him to shoot off was a pat. 

"Miguel, I used the same strategy on my husband. I knew if I was patient I would win. And it worked. We've been married 24 years."

"Thanks. If you have any pearls of wisdom I'm ready to listen." When he said 'pearls' he pictured the pearl necklace of cum he had given Jean. It was the same night she started him on this path. At Jean's urging he had dutifully and eagerly lapped up the necklace of pearls.

There wasn't much space between he and her mother. She put her hand back on his knee, patted it, and left it there. She and Jean didn't resemble each other. Jean favored her dad. His darker skin, deep brown hair, height, and athleticism. She did have her mom's piercing blue eyes. 

"I'm glad you asked, Miguel because I do. As you know she loves being in charge, just like her father. My advice is to let her. Support her decisions. She'll love you for it. It will bring you closer together as a couple. She's used to being the center of attention. It's why college was such a shock to her. She went from being the biggest fish to just another fish."

She was staring at him. He liked her eyes as they reminded him of Jean. She was still a very nice looking woman. Her gaze was so piercing because she wanted to make sure he was really hearing her. The way he was looking back assured her he was paying attention.

He had set his beer on the table. She took his right hand into her left. It was a trick she learned years ago. Men remembered best when talk included physical contact. He would associate their chat with her holding his hand. 

She continued, "Her faith is very important to her Miguel. She's very committed to being Catholic. I know it's not so important to you. You can't just cheerlead. You have to take an active role. Attend Mass with her. Follow the church's teachings. Show her you are as committed as she is. Never make fun of her beliefs. She has always been more spiritual than her siblings. She sees signs telling her what to do. I can remember her telling me after a game where she scored an impossible shot or threw further that God guided her."

She rubbed his hand and knee, "You know she wants a big family. Do you?"

"She's mentioned it. I'd like a big family too."

"Good. You know that means no artificial birth control. You have to follow the church's teachings. Before you think it's impossible we're proof it works."

He wanted to ask how but she enlightened him.

"Through denial and how should I say this, creativity. I'm sure you and Jean will figure it out."

It was the first time he ever heard her allude to them having sex. Of course she was talking sex after marriage.

"Her virtue is important to her Miguel. I know you respect it."

"I do."

"I hope Leo is as respectful as you, but I doubt it."

He didn't know what to say, but she clearly saw Leo as a threat to Jean's virginity, a virginity he didn't have the heart to tell her mom she lost months before.

She paused. He guessed she was thinking of Leo and Jean. So was he. Only the outcomes were different. She saw Jean fending off Leo's advances, not buying into his charm, slapping his octopus arms away. Miguel pictured her eagerly accepting them, flat on her back, her legs open wide as Leo mounted her, his brown baton filled with blood, his testicles heavy with cum.

"She wants to proudly wear white on her wedding day."

"She will."

"Good. I knew I could count on you." She squeezed his hand one last time.

"Let her be the boss and be as good a Catholic as her and you'll do just fine."

He thanked her, picked up his beer and finished it. He was glad they had their chat, but the subject caught him off guard. 

He noticed she was dressed to go out. He wondered where. She asked him what time it was. 

"Do you have some place to go?"

"The beauty shop."

"You can go. I'll wait for Jean."

"Nonsense. Jean asked me to keep you company until she came home. She'll be here soon and then I'll leave."

She took his hand into hers again and moved closer to him. She smelled good. He wondered if Jean used the same perfume. He was suddenly very aware of the body underneath her dress. She and Jean had different builds. She was pleasantly plump, like an overripe tomato. 

She rubbed the back of his hand, "I can tell you're very supportive of Jean. I also know it's not easy to put another person's needs ahead of our own, but if I could do it I know you can."

He got her point, "Love conquers all."

She looked at him, "Loving someone can also hurt. When you always put their needs before yours and they don't seem to even notice what you feel isn't love but hurt."

"Did you tell him?"

"Never. I just bit my tongue. In the end it was worth it. My sacrifice was small for the wonderful life he gave me. He's a driven man. Ambition is good in a man. You're ambitious too. I can tell."

"I am, but so is Jean."

"Jean's career is in the home Miguel. She's only going to school to please her father. She wants to be a stay at home mom, but she wants a husband who doesn't think the house and kids are solely her responsibilities."

"I agree with her. My dad does more around than the house and more with us kids than my mom."

She smiled, "Excellent you had such a good role model. So you're used to seeing a man taking care of the kids, cooking, and cleaning."

"Oh yes. My dad does it all."

She laughed, "I can see what drew Jean to you. You're what she needs. She and Leo are too much alike. Leo reminds me of my husband, but even more of a machista."

"That's why he's a police man. I'd be a lousy cop. I'm too easy on people."

"Well, Miguel. Women are hard to figure out. We want gentleness but we're attracted to roughness. We want to mold a man into our vision of perfection, but there is no perfect man or woman. In every relationship you get the bad and the good."

"Whatever choice Jean makes I can live with."

"You're so gallant, Miguel, but it fits your personality."

"Don't tell Jean, but I'd be heartbroken. I'd move on because I have to, not because I want to."

"What would help you get through it?"

"Knowing she's happy. That's all I really care about, her happiness."

"Miguel, you're going to make a good son."

"Thanks. And you'll be a great mother."

They both heard Jean's car pull in front of the house. 

She said, "Jean's back from the movies." She let go of Miguel's hand and stood up, "I enjoyed our chat. I hope we have more. I like talking to you."

"Me too."

"You're just being nice."

"I'm serious. You've been a great help getting me through this."

"Then you're welcome. I need to go and I'm sure you and Jean have a lot of catching up to do."

He stood up and walked her to the door. Jean was now coming up the sidewalk. He started to open the door to let her mother out, but her mother said, "I think Jean will want to see you, not me, on the other side of the door when it.opens"

He had been frozen in place, but her words got him moving. He hurried to the door getting there just as Jean opened it.

Jean looked at him and grinned.

He smiled back thinking how beautiful she was and how much her smile brightened his life.

Her mom turned.

Jean and he did something they never did in front of her mom. They hugged and quickly kissed. Still hugging Jean thanked her mom for keeping Miguel company.

Her mom replied, "It was my pleasure. We had a nice chat."

Jean said, "You'll have to tell me about it later."

She promised, "I will."

She picked up her purse and walked by them.

Miguel and Jean both told her goodbye.

The second she closed the door Jean pressed her lips to Miguel. Her breath was hot. Miguel wondered as they frenched if she had been earlier doing the same thing with Leo. He found he didn't care. All that mattered was the present and what she was doing with him.

They embraced and stood there for a long time doing nothing but sharing deep, wet, probing kisses. Their arousal grew. Miguel had no idea if it would go any farther than kissing. Jean had other ideas.

"Miguel we have a couple of hours. Let's go to my bedroom."

In her bedroom she continued to take charge.

"Get a towel. Better make it two. I'm really aroused. I've been dreaming of our reunion all day. If we hear someone you go into the kitchen and get a drink. I'll get dressed while you stall them."

He got the towels. She watched as he placed them on the edge of the bed. She kicked her shoes off. She turned around and asked him to unzip her dress. She took it off.




Chance Encounter Ch. 21



Down to her bra and panties he took in her body. Her breasts strained the confines of her bra as her bush was clearly visible through her panties. He found himself hungering to have his face between her thighs. 

She stood by the bed. They hugged, he completely clothed, she nearly naked. In between kisses she moaned for him to pull her panties down. She was breathing heavy. She moaned when he hooked his fingers in the waistband and dropped to his knees as he pulled them off of her. She lifted each foot as he finished removing them. She dropped to the bed and was flat on her back the heels of her feet resting on the bed railing and legs open wide a second later. 

He was eye to eye with her vagina. It was wet and a deep pink. Its entrance looked larger reminding him of an open mouth with no teeth or tongue. Her labia looked swollen. He couldn't see cum but he smelled it. 

He didn't dive in but began at her inner thighs and slowly kissed his way up stopping at her vulva. She was rotating her hips and panting, reminding him of a bitch in heat. 

He placed his mouth mere millimeters away from her pink flesh. Nothing was going to stop him from eating her, but before he did he had to know, "Were you with Leo before you came home?"

She actually answered by rubbing her sex against his face. He didn't pull away. She rubbed against his lips hoping to draw his tongue out. He kept his mouth closed. He wanted to eat her, but he first wanted her to answer his question. He wasn't going to let her dodge the question no matter how badly he craved eating her. 

They remained frozen for a minute. His lips and her labia were touching. He knew the truth as he could smell cum, but he needed to hear the truth. He wasn't repelled knowing she was full of another man's spunk, but drawn to it. The urge to taste him on her was strong. His penis throbbed.

Each time he inhaled he smelled Leo.

She was trying to figure Miguel out. He didn't seem mad just resolved. He also didn't seem turned off, but very turned on, like he was under her spell. 

She caressed his scalp lightly touching it with her fingernails, "Does it matter? What's important is I'm with you and I desire you."

She rubbed her wet pink flesh against his face. "You know you want to, don't you?"

He didn't move. When he spoke she could feel the vibration of his lips as the sound traveled.

"Yes, I want to."

"Then what's stopping you?"

She looked at him. She could see the truth in his eyes. Deep down he feared she thought less of him, that he was a freak. She actually thought just the opposite. He was telling her he was one hundred percent on board. He was also asking for her to formally recognize his role.

"Yes, Miguel. I was with Leo earlier. He fucked me twice. And no, he didn't use a condom."

She let her words sink in. He had read about her infidelity and now he was hearing her admit it. He was now having his nose rubbed in it. In a few seconds he would taste her betrayal as he licked her.

"Do you want to be my cuntlicker Miguel? I hope you do because I want you to be the one I go to when I need my cunt licked. I especially want to be licked after another man fills me with his seed. Is that what you want Miguel, to clean up Leo's cum?"

"I want to be your cuntlicker Jean. I want to lick you clean."

"Miguel, this conversation isn't just about licking my cunt is it?"

He admitted, "No, it's not."

"That's right. It's about me being in charge, isn't it? I'm your reina (queen) aren't I?"

"Yes, you're my reina."

"And you're my servant. Not my slave because you're volunteering to do this."

"I'm your servant."

"I make all the decisions Miguel. My word is final. I control you, but you don't control me. If I choose I can have other lovers, but you can't."

"You can have other lovers. And I can't. You are my boss."

"That's right. Now be a good servant and lick me clean of Leo's cum."

He thirstily lapped at her pink flesh probing her vagina with his tongue. She knew he could taste cum. She bore down hoping to reward him with whatever cum was still inside. He responded licking even faster.

"That's it Miguel. Lick up Leo's cum. Get it all, you cuntlicker."

She preferred being eaten slowly but fast and frezied seemed fitting for the moment. Thinking about him eating her had aroused her but their conversation had pushed her to the edge. 

She took her fingers and pulled her labia apart exposing her engored clit. "Lick it. No, suck it."

He rapidly flicked it with his tongue then pressed his lips to it and sucked. 

She began to buck then stiffen. She let out a low pitched scream as she climaxed. His thoughts were focused entirely on her pink flesh. It was as though she and her pussy were detached. He came too. He had felt his penis throb followed by five rapid fire contractions. Cumming had never felt so good he thought. 

She begged him to stop but he was oblivious to her voice. Unable to take any more stimulation she pushed his head away. She was breathing hard, gasping, "Miguel, no more."

He apologized, "I didn't hear you the first time. I was too caught up in what I was doing."

"It's okay." She reached down and ran her fingers from his cheek to his chin, "You're all wet."

"I know."

Her hand continued to caress his face. She ran a finger against his lips. He opened his mouth and gently bit it, then softly sucked it. Basking in the afterglow she said aloud, but not really to him, "Wow. I needed that so bad."

She saw him as her pet and herself as his master. 

The adoration in his eyes reminded her of a dog's, unwavering and unconditional. She also detected sadness, but that was to be expected. Once the sexual fever cooled reality set in. Overcome with lust, it was easy to assume the role of a submissive, to be a willing cuckold, to taste the seed of another man on her flesh, but now there was no heat.

He remained kneeling but turned his head and rested the side of his face on her pubis. She found it a sweet gesture.

She was looking up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and asked, "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"You know what. Did you cum?"

He knew she wanted him too, but it always made him feel even less of a man when he did.

"Yes."

"I'm glad. I thought you would. I could tell you were excited."

"Very," he admitted. A few seconds later she felt something wet where he rested his head. She ran her hand across his face and located the source of the wetness. Miguel was silently crying.

She knew in that instant she had a choice, to be strong and firm or weak and tender. 

"It's okay Miguel. Go ahead and cry. I know you feel overwhelmed but so do I. This will take some getting used to. So far you are handling it really well."

The soft tears turned into a flow. Silence turned to sobs. She held his head with her hands.

"It's okay," she assured him.

He began to blubber spilling in random fashion everything on his mind.

"I'm worried I'll lose you. I don't want you to think I'm a freak. I like this too. I'm tired of being apart."

He was having a complete meltdown.

She sat up took his blubbering head in her hands and guided his face back to her sex. 

"That's it. Lick me. Go nice and slow. You're not going to lose me, not ever. I don't think you're a freak. I love what we have. You're very strong. I love you more because you submit. Don't fight who you are. We both know I'm the strong one and that's okay. We're partners. Your tongue feels so good Miguel. That's it. I taste good don't I. Take your time cuntlicker. Smell and taste him."

She fed him her cunt for the next half hour. His waterworks and blubbering ended. His focus was on her pussy. At the end he extended his tongue as she fucked herself with it. 

She flooded his face when she came.

He didn't know why but eating her had made him feel better. He felt able to handle anything.

He wanted to talk and hoped she did too.

"Jean?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"It's complicated Miguel. Yes, but not like I love you. I don't think about him in a romantic way but I do think about him a lot. Not as much as I think about you. I definitely don't see a future with him, not like I see one with you."

He felt sort of better. He had wanted to hear her say no, but he understood one couldn't disconnect physical inticacy from emotional. 

"Why aren't you using protection?"

"I don't have a really good answer. I guess because he didn't want to. Then I decided I didn't want to either. It feels so much better without. I don't feel like I'm being a bad Catholic."

"Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant?"

"More worried about my parents' reaction. I know you'll stick with me Miguel."

"I would Jean."

"That's what I thought you'd say. I knew you'd marry me even if I was carrying another man's baby."

"What about Leo? What does he want?"

"I honestly don't know Miguel. I'm absolutely positive he has no interest in marrying me. I think if I got pregnant he would see it as my problem, not his. Besides I know I'll have you to help me."

"Do you think you're pregnant?"

"I was fertile when we did it. I guess I'll know soon enough."

"If you are I'll marry you Jean."

"You'd better. I can't do this without without you."

Her words made him feel almost noble. He would restore her honor by marrying her.

She continued, "I hope you won't hate me for admitting this, but I really hope he makes me pregnant."

"I won't hate you. But why now?"

"I can't explain it. I just know it's the right time."

"But it's not. You have two more years of school. I have two more semesters. We have no money."

"I'm not going back to school Miguel. I haven't told my parents but all I want to do is to be a housewife and have a bunch of kids. I can move in with you or work and get an apartment of my own until you graduate. With your degree you're going to get hired right away. We'll have plenty of money in time for the baby."

"You've thought about this a lot?"

"I have. I want Leo's baby and to be your wife."

He admired her honesty and returned it in kind.

"Jean, As crazy as this sounds I want the same thing."

She smiled, then joked, "To be my wife?"

He laughed, "No, to be your husband."

She caressed his face, "Good because I don't want to be a man. I just want to wear the pants in the family."

He was still on his knees between her legs; her thighs were open wide as she sat up. He lifted his head up as she lowered hers down. They shared a very sensual kiss. When it ended she asked him to go inside her.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"I'm sure. I'm not fertile. But to be safe I want you to pull out before you come."

He answered, "Okay," knowing his acceptance of her restrictions made him her coconspirator to have Leo fertilize her womb.

He stood up, unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants and underwear. 

She watched him. He stood in front of her. She took hold of his erection and before taking it into her mouth told him how cute it was. Her warm wet mouth felt exquisite. He was glad she didn't suck him for long because another minute and he would have cum.

She got on her back. 

He mounted her.

She guided him in. He was now experiencing what Leo had been feeling for the past three weeks. 

She asked him how it felt.

He assured her it was better than he ever imagined.

"I like the feel of you in me too. I'm going to pet myself while you fuck me."

He knew she didn't have to masturbate when Leo fucked her, but she deserved pleasure. She encouraged him to thrust hard as she quickly brought herself off.

He kept thrusting and thinking his orgasm was approaching she reminded him to pull out. She wasn't worried about him getting her pregnant as she was no longer fertile. This wasn't about preventing her from getting pregnant, but about her being in charge.

"Miguel, you need to pull out."

"I will Jean, it just feels so good."

She let him thrust a few more times as she liked making him feel good and seeing the excitement on his face, but she also knew she had to exercise her dominance.

She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, "That's enough Miguel."

He started to protest, "But I'm not close...", but the continued pressure of her hand on his chest told him it was pointless to argue. He pulled out. 

"Pet yourself Miguel."

At her urging he masturbated depositing his seed just above the hairline of her pubis.

She watched him climax and after he finished she said, "Now lick it up and when you're done eat me."

He dropped to his knees, licked her lower torso clean and worked his way down to her vagina. than she was urging him to pull out and lick her. As he ate her she called him her cunt licker and told him she wished he could have been there today servicing her the instant Leo withdrew. She also praised him for pulling out, for achieving his climax by masturbating knowing it was not nearly as pleasurable as cumming inside her, and for so eagerly cleaning her of his cum.

As vocal as she was he wondered if anyone walking outside could hear her comments. Her words spurred humiliation and arousal. He responded to her comments assuring her he would get it all, that it tasted good, confirming he was indeed her cunt licker, and wishing he too would have been there to eat her seconds after Leo's cock withdrew. He even promised her he would clean Leo's cock of their combined juices and if needed get him hard again for her.

Miguel's words, both solicited and unsolicited, were gasoline poured on the fire Miguel's mouth had started between her legs. When she orgasmed she clamped her legs together squeezing his head like a vise completely immobilizing him save his tongue which kept lapping away. 

She said, "Stop," but he didn't because her thighs blocked out her voice. She finally slapped the top of his head. She couldn't take any more pleasure but it wasn't for lack of desire.

When Jean released her hold on Miguel's head they both said, "Wow." 

She looked at the clock radio and noted the time. 

"We need to get dressed. You go first. I'll join you." 

He stood up and with his pants and underwear still around his ankles waddled to the bathroom where he washed his penis off in the sink, dried off and pulled his underwear and pants up. He then cleaned his face and fingers of their juices. He rinsed his mouth out several times but the sensation of cum lingered. He knew from past experience its taste would linger for hours. 

Jean came in as he was finishing. She sat on the commode and urinated.

What she did next surprised him, but in a good way. She asked him to get a washcloth, wet it, and to clean her. 

She stood with her feet wide apart. He knelt and cleaned her front. She turned around and said, "Now my ass."

He cleaned between her cheeks starting from the top and ending at her perineum.

When he was done she directed him to get a towel and to dry her. He did her bottom first. She told him to kiss her asshole. He did. She turned around. He dried her genitals. She again asked him to kiss her pussy. He did. 

"Thank you," she said, "Now I need the sink." 

He stood up and moved out of the way and watched as she brushed her teeth, applied fresh makeup. She was watching him in the mirror. She smiled at the mirror and he smiled back. He really felt as though he had assumed a new role. He was her boyfriend in name only. She treated him as her hand maiden.

She lifted her arm, "Spray it." He picked up the deodorant and sprayed her left followed by her right underarm. 

"Now go get my panties and dress."

He retrieved them. 

"Put my panties on me."

She lifted her foot up. He slipped them on one leg then the other. He pulled them up. 

"Now my dress."

He put it on her. She turned around and he zipped it up.

She looked at him. "Thanks. I hope you'll be here to help me dress before I go out with Leo tomorrow night. I might even have you drop me off before you head out. Now, how do I look?"

"Beautiful," he answered.

"But do I look fuckable?"

"Very," he replied, knowing her question wasn't if he thought she looked fuckable, but if other men would.

They went to the living room. She sat on the couch and told him to sit by her, but not too close as her dad would want to see some space between them. He wanted to talk about his feelings but sensed Jean was in the mood for quiet. She turned on the t.v. and found a football game to watch. He marveled at her ability to compartmentalize. She seemed to have no trouble opening the door then closing it.

He was just the opposite. He had so many questions to ask. He was dying to talk.

He and Jean exchanged smiles. He felt her eyes on him while he watched the game. 

Her dad arrived first, then her mom. 

Her mom began cooking. Jean asked her if she needed help. She replied she did.

Jean looked at Miguel and tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. She wanted to keep watching the game. Miguel stood up.

Jean said, "Miguel will help you."

"That's nice."

Miguel and Jean's mom prepared dinner while Jean and her dad watched the game. After dinner Miguel volunteered to clean up. He thought Jean might help him, but she went with her parents into the living room.

He should have felt angry, but he instead felt almost high. He had felt this way before from running. He wondered if the flood of endorphins was due to his happiness with Jean or because she was treating him as her servant. She had even told him she owned him, called him her servant, labeled him her cunt licker. He noticed as he stood at the sink washing dishes he had a partial erection. He knew he was leaking precum.

He liked how good submitting made him feel. Earlier in Jean's bathroom as he waited on her he had experienced the same sensation.

After the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned he joined Jean and her parents in the living room. He was about to sit down when Jean asked her parents if they needed drinks. They did. Jean volunteered Miguel to get them all drinks. 

He took their orders and got them drinks. Jean's dad yelled for him to open a can of nuts. Jean said her mom wanted cubes of cheese and olives. He found a tray and brought everything out at one time. He served them.

Her parents thanked him. Her dad even commented he needed to take a break and watch some of the game. After the game Jean looked at Miguel before telling her parents she wanted some ice cream. She offered to bring them some, but they declined.

She stood up and Miguel followed her lead, but she didn't get her purse. She instead said, "Miguel, go on outside. I'll be there in a few minutes."

What she said surprised him and from the looks her parents were giving each other surprised them too. He didn't say anything. He exited the house wondering what was up. He felt paranoid but told himself not to panic. He hoped Jean wasn't playing with him. He had never felt more vulnerable. 

He stood outside five to ten minutes before Jean joined him.

"Miguel, you look so serious. Is anything the matter?"

He assured her there wasn't. She looked very happy.

The minute she took his hand in hers and led him to the car his mood brightened. He had been paranoid. What she talked about was not his business and he doubted it was about him.

Jean said she really was craving ice cream but added, "Dessert will be later."

He smiled knowing she meant he was going to eat her.

They went inside the Baskin Robbins and ordered. Jean suggested they find a table and eat their ice cream now. 

They got their ice cream and sat down.

Jean asked him if he was wondering what she talked to her parents about.

He answered, "I did."

She smiled, "I talked about you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Know what we talked about?"

"No."

"You staying the night. They agreed. You'll sleep in my brother's old room."




Chance Encounter Ch. 21



He liked the idea but also thought it might be awkward in the morning. He also felt guilty as he hadn't seen his family in three weeks. He could also tell Jean was very happy about him spending the night.

"Miguel, this is great. We'll be together until you leave tomorrow."

Her eyes looked glassy. He wasn't the only one awash in endorphins. 

She continued, "Our time together is so short. I know I'm being selfish, but I don't want to share you this weekend. Your parents don't know you're in town, right?"

"No. I feel the same way. I just feel guilty."

She took his hand, "Don't feel guilty. You're doing this for me. That should make you feel not guilty."

She gave him a conspiratorial wink, "Besides, if my parents go out you can help me get ready for my date with Leo. And if they are home you can see me before I go to his place."

He felt like such a pervert. Inside he was salivating at the idea, but on the outside he felt hurt and humiliated. He wondered what her parents would think when they both left the house together in separate cars, he to school and she to Leo's. Wrapped as in wrapped around her finger came to mind.

She stared at him. She had a look he was seeing whenever she exercised her control of him, unbridled lust. 

She stood up, "Let's go. You can finish your ice cream in the car."

He looked at her chest. Her nipples were poking against her dress.

They left. She drove them to their makeout location.

On the way there she told him, "I want you so badly right now Miguel. I want your head between my legs. And I know you feel the same way, don't you?"

"I do."



Chance Encounter Ch. 22



Jean was always eager to have Miguel's mouth on her breasts, but she hadn't removed her bra at her parents' house and she didn't remove it at the school parking lot. 

He didn't ask until after he ate her. 

She was caressing the top of his head feeling completely drained. It had been a long day, but a very good one.

"Jean?"

"Hmm?"

"May I suck your breasts?"

"Not tonight. They're really very sore."

"I'll be gentle."

"Let me think about it. I don't want you to get upset when you see them."

"I won't."

"You really like my breasts don't you?"

"I love them, Jean."

"Let me sit up. You can stay on your knees."

She sat up, leaned forward, reached around, and undid her bra. In one motion she took it off.

He knelt between her legs. He was nearly level with her breasts. 

She cupped them for him. 

He looked at them. They were covered with hickies and bite marks. 

Each nipple was erect. He wondered how long they got. He carefully took a nipple into his mouth. He knew he was being gentle because she told him so. She assured him he wasn't hurting her but making her feel better.

She teased him calling him her baby. 

She took the opportunity to open up a dialogue.

"Miguel, did you really mean all those things you said at my house?"

He nodded his head.

"Good, because I meant them. You like me controlling you don't you?"

Another nod yes.

"You aren't going to stop me from having sex with other men are you?"

He shook his head no.

"You want me to have Leo's baby don't you?"

Another nod up and down.

You'll do whatever I say won't you?"

She took his mouth off her breast.

"Yes," he answered.

"You'll do the housework, the cooking, and you'll stay home while I go out."

"Yes, Jean, I will."

"You'll help me get ready when I go out won't you?"

"I will."

"You'll be ready when I return won't you?"

"I will."

"I'll want you to eat me like you did today."

"I will."

"We'll only have intercourse when I say we will."

"Okay."

"Not okay Miguel. Repeat what I said."

"We'll only have sex when you say we will."

"Very good, Miguel."

"You'll only cum when I give you permission."

He hadn't seen this coming and he didn't think about the ramifications. He just answered yes.

She leaned forward cradled his head in her hands and lovingly kissed him. When their kiss ended she told him, "Now eat me again."

He did fighting off the urge to let his throbbing penis release its contents.

A few minutes after her orgasm she said, "It's time to go home."

It was the first time she consciously controlled his climax. His penis was screaming for relief, a relief she denied.

His initial reaction was anger but it rapidly turned into frustration. Her denial stung because he knew she had placed no restrictions on Leo. It was obvious from the way she behaved Leo could treat her the way she was now treating Miguel.

The sting faded. Anger turned to rationalization. He decided she was doing this to make Sunday's climaxes better. He thought she might be doing this as a test. He would get over it and show her he had willpower.

She dressed and got in the front seat. He joined her. She asked him after starting the car to describe how he felt.

"Weird. Frustrated. Not as close to you. Resentful."

She smiled, "Your reaction is normal. It's a little weird for me too. I feel more connected when we both orgasm. I can understand your resentment. That's how I felt before Leo. I had plenty of orgasms from you but the one kind I wanted most I couldn't have."

He felt she was giving him a taste of his own medicine. She wanted him to feel the resentment she once felt.

"I think once we get over the initial awkwardness we'll find it brings us closer. Tell me you'll obey."

"I promise I'll obey."

"Good." She put the car in drive and started toward her house.

"Miguel?"

"Yes, Jean."

"Thanks for eating me. Those were really two very nice orgasms you gave me."

It was nice to hear but also a reminder of the unfairness of it all. She had two orgasms to his none.

"You're welcome," he answered.

Her parents were home when they got to her house. They were watching t.v. in the living room so Jean suggested Miguel should watch t.v. in her room. 

They did laying on their stomachs on the floor side by side. He yawned. Then she yawned. Their days were catching up with them. Climaxing was still very much on his mind. He thought about jacking off once he got in bed, but didn't want to disappoint her.  

She yawned again then suggested it was time for them to go to sleep. 

She didn't follow him to her brother's room as he knew where it was. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and closed her bedroom door. 

He felt awkward going to his car to get his suitcase then coming back inside. Her parents were still awake. Her dad was sitting on the couch and her mom was using his lap as a pillow. They were immersed in the show barely acknowledging him when he said good night. 

He changed into pajamas then went down the hall and to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and returned to the bedroom. He got under the covers but instead of falling asleep he tossed and turned. His insomnia was because he hadn't climaxed.

He closed his eyes. An hour later he left the bedroom and entered the kitchen. He got a drink. The door to Jean's bedroom was still closed. He went back to the bedroom but made a detour to the bathroom.

Standing at the commode aiming his penis at the water in the bowl he heard noises. He looked up. The noises were coming from an overhead vent.

It was the sound of two people fucking, Jean's parents to be exact. Miguel could hear them as if he were a foot away, not down the hall in another room. Her parents might be middle aged but they were fucking like a couple of young newlyweds. From the crude words they shared it was obvious his rule extended to the bedroom. He made her beg for his cock and she begged for it, whimpering as he resumed his thrusts. Her dad was a tireless machine drilling her pink hole again and again. Her mom referenced God and how much she adored her husband's big polla. 

The tempo of his thrusts increased. Miguel heard the distinct sound of flesh on flesh contact. Her mom was even more animated pleading with her husband to fuck her harder, telling him yes again and again, and moaning. Her orgasm didn't coincide with a scream, but a sixty second moan. Her husband grunted as he filled her with his cum.

It was he thought hotter than any porn he had ever watched. He looked down at his penis sticking out through the fly in his pajamas. A few strokes and it would explode. He stood there torn between his desire to climax and his promise to Jean.

He knew indirect stimulation could trigger his orgasm. It was a gift and a curse. He believed it was the reason he came too quickly during intercourse which he found upsetting. On the upside Jean called those orgasms set off by what he was doing, seeing, or imagining complements of the highest order. They made her feel more sexy, more desired, and more lusted after than the orgasms induced by direct physical contact. 

He watched his penis. It hadn't gotten any softer. Every few seconds it would twitch. His testicles were tight armed and ready to release their contents. He wondered and hoped her parents would initiate a second round. He also wanted to see if they engaged in oral sex.

There was no second round, but there was plenty of pillow talk. 

After praising her husband for his skills as a lover she asked if she could discuss Jean. 

"Don't you think she's dated Leo long enough? It's obvious she's not going to break up with Miguel."

He sighed, "Querida, that was never my intent. Miguel is a good fit for Jean, but until Leo he's the only man she ever dated."

"If he's a good fit then why do you want to her date others?"

He sounded patient as he explained his logic, "Look, we both know Jean isn't a little bossy, but very bossy. We also know her bossiness doesn't seem to bother Miguel. What we don't know is if her bossiness is just immaturity. What if she met a man, like Leo, who won't let her boss him around? What if he forces her to outgrow being bossy?"

"So far it hasn't worked, but now she has two boyfriends."

"What's wrong with that? Miguel and Leo aren't complaining and neither is Jean. As far as I'm concerned she can have fifty boyfriends. What I don't want is for her to get too serious with any one man. Not until she has her degree."

"You're in charge carino but I don't think it will work. She is crazy about Miguel. You're just making him miserable and giving our daughter a free pass."

"He's not miserable. I'm just making him prove his dedication to Jean."

"What if he gets a girlfriend?"

"Then he wasn't very dedicated."

"What if she ends up falling for Leo? He's a pleasant young man, but we both know he's a womanizer."

"He could change."

"A tiger doesn't change his stripes."

"I changed."

"You were never a skirt chaser. If anyone changed it was me."

He laughed then he yawned, "I know we were exclusive once we started dating, but young people today have more choices. Don't take this wrong, but we didn't have a choice. And I don't regret only dating you, but I want more for our children, not just Jean. I gave the same speech to our oldest and look what happened. He broke up with that girl I couldn't stand and ended up in medical school. And now he's seeing someone we both like."

"So you think this will keep Jean focused on a career?"

"I do."

"I'm not convinced. I think Leo is too worldly for her. He's been around. We sheltered her and now you're throwing her to the wolves. I'm not saying Leo isn't a gentleman, but I bet no woman has told him no."

"Jean's strong. She'll tell him no. She's a good girl."

"She is a good girl, but Leo is muy guapo. I just hope your plan doesn't backfire and she ends up pregnant."

"You're talking nonsense. Three weeks of dating Leo and you're worried. What about the year she's been with Miguel?"

"Miguel's not Leo."

He chuckled, "That's an understatement."

She scolded him, "That's not what I meant. He's respectful. Leo is so casual."

"That means they aren't serious."

"Or he knows he's in charge."

"Let's discuss this some other time. Now I have a headache."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just think you should see it from a woman's point of view. I know what will make your headache go away."

"Dios mio woman your mouth could bring the dead back to life."

"That's it. Suck it."

Miguel listened as Jean's mom gave her husband head. From the groans her husband made she obviously knew how to please her man. Even more impressive she was able to coax the cum out of his cock in less than ten minutes. He also learned she swallowed. 

As impressive as her blowjob was even more amazing was Miguel holding off his own climax. He looked down at his swollen penis. Like some sort of divining rod it was jerking in several directions. He slowly counted to sixty before even attempting to touch it. He carefully placed it back inside his pajamas and quietly made his way back to the bedroom.

Back in bed he forced himself to focus on her parents' conversation and ignore their lovemaking. If only they knew what he knew but even he only knew what Jean shared. Even though it strained credulity he believed what Jean told him was one hundred percent truth as she saw it. He wondered if Leo was seeing the same picture as Jean.

He was physically and emotionally drained, but the throbbing in his pajamas made sleep impossible. The temptation to masturbate was strong. He emptied his mind of all thoughts and started to drift off.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep but he was having the most wonderful dream. He awoke to discover it wasn't a dream but real. Jean's head was under the blanket and her mouth was wrapped around his penis. He instinctively held her head as he unloaded his cum into her mouth. She continued sucking him until he was soft. He let go of her head. She came out from under the blanket and pressed her mouth to his.

He opened his to be greeted by Jean's tongue as she returned to him his cum. He gladly accepted and swallowed thinking their french kiss was the hottest ever.

When they stopped kissing his paranoia hit.

In a hushed voice he asked her what she was doing.

She smiled and whispered back, "Giving you a blowjob."

"Not that. Isn't it risky?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Me either. I had just fallen asleep."

Her voice that of a coconspirator, "You heard them too."

Ashamed he answered, "Yes."

"That was so erotic."

"It was."

"First time I ever heard them."

"Me too."

"Weird."

"Sort of."

"Have you ever heard yours?"

"Jean!"

"Seriously."

"A few times, but nothing like what I heard tonight. We don't have vents."

"Miguel."

"Yes."

"Thanks for being my friend. I love you."

"I love you too Jean. And thanks."

She smiled, gave him a quick kiss and left the room.

He drifted back to sleep wondering if it had been a dream.



Chance Encounter Ch. 23



A few weeks later Miguel was back in town, but for only one day as he had to work Friday night and all day Saturday. He didn't arrive at his house until late Saturday evening. Jean had seen Leo throughout the week stopping by his apartment mid afternoon for an hour or more of lovemaking. Leo worked evenings and that week both Friday and Saturday. Miguel didn't like making the long drive for what would not even be a one day visit but Jean stressed in her letters how important it was to her. She wanted him to start attending mass with her and to meet her family priest, Father G. To say Miguel was compliant was an understatement. Jean had him literally wrapped around her finger. He hadn't masturbated in the weeks since he last saw Jean which was truly commendable especially in light of the very graphic letters Jean wrote describing she and Leo's efforts to make her a baby. Her period had come and gone, but she remained hopeful they would conceive.

Miguel woke up early Sunday morning, ate breakfast with his family, packed up the car, hugged his mom, dad, and brothers goodbye, and drove to Jean's house where he planned to spend the day. Jean's family was very close and they normally spent Sundays together. 

By the time he arrived Jean's mom was in the midst of preparing lunch. Her dad was comfortably settled on the couch watching pre-game coverage of an NFL game. Her brothers would arrive closer to lunchtime. Jean's parents and sister had already attended Mass so it was just Jean and he attending the 11:30 services. Jean met him at the door. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before they departed for church. Jean liked to sit up front so they arrived early enough to ensure they were in one of the front pews.

Father G said Mass. He had a good speaking voice and his age, being under 30, made him popular among teenagers and young adults. His most distinguishing characteristics were his baby face and his curly hair. Even though he was Anglo, he wore his hair in a short Afro. His curls weren't tight, but loose and invitingly soft. The best way to describe him was cute; his cheeks were rosy and plump just like a baby's. Miguel doubted if he shaved more than once every two weeks. As for his build, he wasn't overweight but chunky. As long as he kept his weight manageable one knew he would appear perpetually youthful. Jean enjoys attending Mass and she found Father G's homilies inspiring. Miguel attended because he found Jean inspiring and enjoyed her company.

The Mass included a few baptisms. Jean held his hand as Father G baptized each infant. The ceremony touched her emotionally.

Squeezing his hand, she whispered to him, "That will be us one day. I can't wait." 

He squeezed her hand back wondering if any of the sperm Leo or he had deposited inside of Jean had impregnated her. While Jean was dreaming it was she and he in front of the church having their child being baptized Miguel was dreaming about Leo fucking Jean. 

He pictured Jean on her back, pleasure written all over her face, her face slightly sweaty. She wasn't looking up at Leo but at Miguel. She smiled at Miguel wanting him to know how thankful she was for allowing Leo to give her the pleasure she needed. Her legs were open and Leo was between them and on top of her. Of Leo, all he could see were the back of his head and his muscular backside. He imagined his buttocks clenching as he drilled in and out of Jean's soaking wet vagina. He could hear Jean's voice begging for him to fuck her, to make her climax, telling Leo how good his cock was and how she wanted him to cum in her, and involuntarily moaning from the pleasure she was feeling. As she neared orgasm, she drew her legs up and wrapped them around Leo's buttocks. She locked her feet together as she drove her heels into his buttocks spurring him to go faster. Each time Leo ejaculated he clenched his buttocks and thrust hard into Jean. 

The baptisms were over and not a moment too soon. Miguel had a diamond cutter in his pants and was a hair width away from climaxing. Jean placed her hand on his thigh and reflected on how beautiful the baptisms were. 

She turned to Miguel and whispered, "I'm so wet right now. I wish we could be alone right now. I want it so bad right now." 

Miguel put his hand on top of hers and pressed it against his leg letting her know he felt the same way. Her comments and her hand on his thigh only worsened his predicament. For the next five minutes his cock continued to throb. It was only after he concentrated on the Mass, willed himself to avoid thinking about Leo and Jean, and kept his hand on Jean's to prevent her from caressing his thigh that his erection subsided. 

Mass ended but they didn't exit the church. Jean wanted to chat with Father G on their way out so they waited until every one else had left. Father G was at the entrance. He and Jean hugged hello and she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Jean then introduced Miguel to Father G as the boyfriend she had told him about. Father G's eyes widened and his jaw literally dropped. How she introduced Miguel and his subsequent reaction made Miguel immediately sense Jean had confessed a great deal to him.

Father G looked Miguel down from head to toe. As his eyes scanned him, Miguel had the distinct impression his appraisal included a quick glance of his crotch. He shifted on his feet feeling embarrassed and completely exposed. He must have realized how awkward the moment was for he grabbed Miguel's hand and shook it warmly. 

His look of surprise vanished as he said, "So you're the lucky man Jean's told me about. Jean is quite a catch. You two make a very attractive couple." 

He felt myself blushing and told Father G., "I do feel lucky having Jean."

Jean chimed in saying she too felt lucky having Miguel for a boyfriend. 

Father G knew a lot about Miguel and he seemed genuinely interested in his well being. He asked about his running, school, job, and if he liked living on his own. He said it was good to see couples like them who were making their relationship work in spite of being apart. Father G was easy to warm up to. Miguel's shame at him knowing intimate things about Jean and he vanished. He told him Jean had nothing but praise for him and he now understood why. He said he wanted to know Miguel more and invited him to see him if he needed to talk. 

Miguel was about to give him an answer saying he would when Jean said, "How about next Saturday?"

Father G said that would be fine. Jean said she would call him and set up a time. Miguel felt trapped, but grateful she had pushed the two to meet. Deep down he knew he needed to confide in a third party.

They shook hands again, but this time he gave him a quick embrace. Miguel hugged him back. He felt him running his hand up his back. He commented on how skinny Miguel was and admonished Jean saying she needed to put some meat on his bones. She said she would make sure he ate well before leaving for school this evening. 

Father G. chuckled and said, "I'm sure you will." 

She laughed back. He turned away from Miguel and the two of them hugged. It was a curious sight seeing a priest in his vestments hugging a woman, even weirder when that woman was Jean. He watched in amazement as he pursed his lips in anticipation of Jean's goodbye kiss. Jean pursed her lips and kissed him. The kiss was short, but it wasn't the same quick peck she greeted him with. Her lips lingered on his albeit ever so brief. She thanked him for being such a good listener and promised to call him later that week to set up a date for he and Miguel on Saturday. He told her to stop by if she needed to talk. He would make room on his calendar for her. 

Jean and he walked away. She put her arm around him and he put his around her. She commented on how nice was the mass, especially the baptisms. She said she especially enjoyed listening to Father G's homilies. He had such a nice voice and besides he was cute, having a baby face and curly hair. Miguel told her he also liked him and enjoyed his homily. 

Jean opened the driver's door and told Miguel to get in. He scooted over just enough to give her room. She closed the door, put the keys in the ignition, but didn't start the engine. She turned and moved her face towards his. He was expecting a quick kiss, but she immediately thrust her tongue between his lips. He opened his mouth and her tongue literally filled his. Her kiss was wet, hot, and probing. She frenched him for what seemed forever. They kept their mouths glued to one another the entire time, breathing through their noses. It was erotic, but tiring. They finally separated both of them breathing hard.

Miguel's first words were, "That was nice." 

Jean's eyes were shiny. She said, "I love you so much right now." 

He told her he too loved her. 

She continued, "I can't wait to be alone with you. Watching those baptisms made me feel empty. I am so aroused right now. I need to be fucked." 

He told her he also wanted her, but he didn't use the words fucked or even intercourse. 

She knew what he meant when he said he wanted her.

They kissed some more, but not with the same intensity as the first kiss. She took his hand and guided it under her dress and between her legs. She pulled her underwear aside and told him to feel just how wet she was. She asked him not to pet her, but to just feel her. Her labia were already slick. He effortlessly plunged a finger into her vagina. Her vagina felt like a furnace. She squeezed her cunt muscles and asked if he felt her tighten around his finger. He said yes. She smiled and reminded him she had a cunt made for fucking. He pulled his finger out and she asked him to lick it clean. He did, but not before holding it up to her nose and then his. 

She said, "Don't I smell good?" 

He said yes. As he licked her juices from his finger he said she tasted good also.

"I want you too Miguel. I need your head between my legs, but it's too risky here."

Jean still wasn't ready to start the car. She reached down and gripped Miguel's cock. She commented on how hard he was and asked if he had been this hard during the baptisms. Her observation caught him completely off guard as he didn't think she noticed.  

He muttered out a yes and with her hand still squeezing and caressing his erection she asked, "Did you really get excited because of the baptisms or were you thinking about Leo and I making a baby?" 

She stared at him with an intensity that made him squirm. It was as though her eyes were drilling into his psyche, wanting him to share his innermost thoughts, no matter how embarrassing. He couldn't hold her gaze and glanced down focusing on her hand which was rubbing and squeezing the lump in his pants.

He hesitated because part of him wanted to lie. 

She caressed him harder, "The truth Miguel."

He remembered how his heart started to pound. When he spoke it wasn't even a whisper but closer to mouthing the words, "I was thinking about you and Leo." 

She asked him to repeat what he said, but louder.

He did.

She gripped his erection squeezing it for emphasis.

"And what were we doing?" she pressed.

He answered, "He was on top of you and the two of you were...". 

She finished his thought, "fucking. He was fucking me. And that excited you?"

He was torn. He hated admitting aloud his perversion but he did feeling both relieved and vulnerable, "Yes. Very much." 

She switched from gripping to energetically rubbing his penis. 

"Miguel, look at me."

He had been looking down watching her hand, but he lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"It's okay Miguel. I accept you. Don't be ashamed of your desires. I am not ashamed of you and I am not ashamed of mine."

She rubbed harder, "Now cum."

He answered, "It's been three weeks. I might leak through if I do."

Jean said, "It's okay. You can change when you get to my house. Now cum."

He closed his eyes and let himself release. She remarked how she could feel it spasm each time he discharged some sperm. 

Once he was through she took her hand off of me and started the car. She then drove them to her house. 

They exited the car and she looked down at his crotch and said, "You had better get a change of pants and underwear." 

He glanced down and saw she was right. He had a silver dollar sized wet spot on his pants. To say he was embarrassed would be an understatement. He went to his car, opened the hatchback, dug through his suitcase and pulled out a clean pair of pants and underwear. He held them in front of himself as they entered Jean's house. In Jean's house her dad and brothers didn't look up from the game. Her mom was busy in the kitchen and her sister was on the phone. He hurriedly changed, rolling his cum-soaked underwear in his pants. 

Clothes in hand he intended to take them back out to the car, but Jean's mom who was now through in the kitchen and alerted to my "spilled drink" by Jean insisted he hand her his clothes so she could spray them with stain remover and wash them. He told her no, but she kept insisting. Jean wasn't providing him any help. He must have truly looked miserable because Jean finally intervened saying, "Miguel knows how to use a washing machine. He's living on his own now." 

Jean's mom looked at him skeptically, but pointed him in the direction of the laundry room. Her sons had never done laundry even after they moved out of the house. Each weekend they would bring it home for their mom or sisters to do. Her mom insisted Jean accompany him as she didn't believe he knew how to use a washing machine and dryer.

Jean and he hurried to the laundry room. He unrolled his pants and sprayed them. 

Jean stretched out his underwear and remarked, "So, that's three weeks worth? For being so little you certainly cum a lot." 

He had to admit she was right. The front of his underwear was soaked. He whispered he hadn't noticed as he had never compared the amount he ejaculated with anyone else. 

With a completely straight face Jean said, "I have. You cum almost as much Leo and he's twice as big as you." 

He felt he had to correct her and said he didn't think size correlated with quantity of ejaculate and Leo wasn't twice as big; three inches longer than his inflated five. 

Jean admitted he was right, but she finished saying, "He certainly feels and looks twice as big as you." 

He must have looked as wounded as he felt for she kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "You know how fond I am of "The Little Fellow", don't you?" 

Miguel whispered back, "Yes. I know. But it still hurts." 

He started the washer. Jean hugged him and apologized, but assured him she hadn't meant anything derogatory she was merely making an observation. And besides, she loved him, not Leo. She said she couldn't wait to be alone with him before he left and was really looking forward to his tongue. Her words soothed his wounded ego.

After lunch he helped Jean's mom clean up the dirty dishes. She liked the way he helped and commented to the rest of her family how he would make a good husband. 

She told Jean, "Miguel's not afraid to do housework and he's handsome too." 

Jean was watching the game, but her mom's comments caused her to grin from ear to ear. 

For the benefit of her dad, she loudly answered, "I intend to keep him if he'll keep me." 

Her dad must have heard for he rolled his eyes, repositioned himself on the couch, and groaned before returning to watch the game.

Once the kitchen was done Miguel transferred his clothes to the dryer and returned to the living room. He reminded Jean he needed to study for a few hours. He went to the car and retrieved a few books. The living room was noisy with the game being on so Jean told him to study in her room. Jean's mom had put coffee on. He poured himself a cup, went into Jean's room, sat down and began to study. 

He enjoyed Jean's room. For one thing it was huge. Her parents lived on a corner lot. The entrance to the garage was on the side of the house. With four kids and only three bedrooms her parents had converted the two-car garage into a bedroom for Jean and her sister. Once her brothers moved out, Jean took over the room and her younger sister got her own room. Jean and he had done quite a bit of fooling around in her bedroom and that was another reason it held good memories. Instead of a desk she had a large round kitchen table to use. He took a break from studying, refilled his cup, and stretched his legs. Jean's entire family was glued to the t.v. watching the game. He went back into her bedroom and closed the door. He looked at the table and remembered back to a day when she and he had the house to themselves.

He had arrived early to pick her up. She heard the doorbell, but was in the bathroom having just finished her bath. She opened the bathroom window and told him to wait a minute as she would be out. She came to the door a few minutes later. Her hair was still wet. She had bundled it in a towel and she had a terry cloth robe on. He came inside and she told him to wait in the living room while she dressed. He sat down to watch t.v. when she called out to him. He entered her bedroom and found her on her back on top of her desk. She still had her robe on but had untied the sash and pulled it open. Her legs were spread open. The bottom half of her legs hung over the edge of the table. Directly in front of her crotch was a chair.

She said, "Have a seat. I thought you might want to begin tonight with dessert or do you think of this as the main meal."

He didn't wait for a second invitation. He sat down in the chair and she scooted her bottom towards the edge. He leaned forward and ate her. He remembered how good her cunt tasted and how her body and pubic hair smelled of soap and shampoo. He had a hard on and made a mental note to repeat that scene at a future date. He sat down and resumed studying. The game ended and he heard Jean's dad ask where he was. 

Her mom said Miguel was studying and her dad said, "Jean, that's what you should be doing." 

She joined him a few minutes later. She liked studying while laying on the floor. She grabbed a change of clothes and left the room to change. She returned a few minutes later with a pair of blue jean shorts and a t-shirt on.

Jean lay down on the floor in front of Miguel and began to study. She was on her belly and her back was to him offering him a splendid view of her buttocks, barely concealed by her shorts. Her legs were slightly spread. He imagined burying his head between them and eating her. They had never fucked doggy style but he had eaten her on more than one occasion doggy style. It was hard on his neck but incredibly erotic. If he put his hands between her legs he could manipulate her breasts as he ate her. His thoughts now shifted to Jean and Leo. He wondered if he had fucked her doggy style. He was certain he had. He forced himself to look away as this wasn't helping his concentrate on studying.

He resumed looking at his quantitative analysis book and worked through a few scenarios. Much of his coursework involved cost benefit analysis and determining at what point is the cost too great for the benefit received. Years later he would find it ironic that what he learned in those classes he would later apply to his relationship with Jean. In his case, however, the cost was psychological and physical pain, humiliation for being inadequate. The benefit was obvious, sexual titillation beyond his wildest fantasy.

It was nearly four thirty when the phone rang. Jean picked up on the first ring. Her sister yelled asking who was on the other end and Jean yelled back saying she had it. Initially Jean kept her back to him and he could barely make out what she was saying. He heard her say she was doing fine and that she was studying. Jean rolled onto her back. She gave Miguel a warm smile, put a finger to her lip signaling him to be quiet, and then winked. 




Chance Encounter Ch. 23



At first he thought she was talking to one of her girlfriends, but it soon became apparent she was conversing with Officer Leo. He wanted to speak up, to let him know he was present, but he remained quiet. He watched in amazement as Jean and he talked. Her voice sounded coquettish. He tried to hear what Leo was saying, but was only able to hear her side of the conversation. 

After she said she was studying, he heard this, "He already left. We had a nice time. How are you doing and how was work? What made you call? That makes two of us. That sounds nice. You are so bad. I want to come over. I'm glad you don't live too far away. I can't stay very long. I'll make up an excuse to get out of the house. I'll see you in an hour, maybe less. Don't worry. I'll be ready. Bye."

Jean hung up the phone. She got up and came over to him. He remained glued to his chair. His heart was racing. She squatted down, resting a hand on his knee. 

She looked him in the eye and said, "You've been studying all day. Are you ready for a break?"

He locked eyes with her and softly answered, "Yes. I need a break." 

She stared at him. Her face got darker, flush with excitement and power, "I didn't hear you Miguel. Say it again, but louder this time. Are you ready for a break?" She dropped her voice to a whisper, "So Leo can fuck me?"

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

He answered, "Yes, I am ready for a break."

"Finish your sentence Miguel." There was a sternness to her voice.

He hesitated.

"Say it Miguel. Tell me why you need a break."

He kept his voice low hoping she wouldn't make him speak worried he might end up shouting the reason, "So Leo can fuck you. I need a break so Leo can fuck you."

She had he thought a rather contemptuous look on her face. It was hard not to take personally. He remembered seeing that same look after Jose. He now recognized it a foreplay. Humiliating him was part of her arousal process. Shaming him was getting her wetter and her nipples harder.

She said in a rather flat voice, "Wait for me in the living room. I need to change."

He went and joined the rest of her family. He was thankful her brothers had left because he felt awkward enough being in the presence of her parents knowing what they were about to embark upon.

Her parents didn't ask figuring he was there to take a break or finished with his studying.

She entered the living room wearing a dark green pleasant dress. She had on makeup and fresh lipstick. He thought, "She looks good, very good, all dressed up, her face painted up for Leo. Her parents have no clue why she is so dolled up."

She looked at Miguel and said, "Your clothes should be dry by now. Why don't you get them and your books and meet me outside?"

She sounded angry with him. He didn't say a word but got up and did as she requested. He felt humiliated gathering up his things. He thanked her parents for their hospitality. They told him goodbye and asked when they would see him again. 

He looked at Jean before answering, "In a couple of weeks, maybe sooner, depending on my work schedule."

He walked out the door sensing they wondered what was going on. There was an artificial pleasantness. He put his things in his car and waited by Jean's. He wondered if she was going to drive herself to Leo while he drove back to school. He didn't like the way she was behaving. It was as though she had to tear him down to erase whatever guilt she had. He wondered why she couldn't treat him in a loving manner as she was about to let another man fuck her. It wasn't as though he thought less of her. He was on board. In fact, he had reconciled himself to the idea of Leo being the first to put a bun in Jean's oven.

She exited the house five minutes later. She handed him her keys and said, "You drive."

He opened the door. She got in. He started the car and began the drive. She was looking at herself in the visor mirror. He was studying her thinking how beautiful she looked, wishing he was Leo. Satisfied with her appearance, she closed the visor and scooted next to him.

She looped her left arm with his right. 

She didn't seem to be in the mood for talking so he kept quiet. He sensed she was nervous. 

She directed him to Leo's apartment reminding him years later of a GPS barking directions in that pleasant but borderline exasperated voice. He knew the way to Leo's apartment, but he wisely decided it was not the time to challenge Jean when she was in one of her moods. 

In front of Leo's building she told him to stop.

She looked at him. He leaned forward to kiss her. She pulled away, "You'll mess up my lipstick."

He answered, "I don't care."

She said, "I do."

He was seething inside, but he refused to blow up. 

He wanted to sound sarcastic. All he could think of to say was rather lame, "Have fun."

She looked at him, smirked as if his comment was the stupidest thing she had ever heard and said, "I will."

She got out of the car and told him, "Be back at 7:30. If I'm not out wait for me."

He never felt so alone at that moment when he said, "I will."

He watched as she ascended the stairs not once looking back. He heard the door open and drove off.

He looked at his watch. Only 5:20. He headed to a coffee shop where he read the Sunday paper from cover to cover, drank too many cups of coffee to count, forced himself to eat a hamburger and onion rings which he barely kept down. All he could think about was what Leo and Jean were doing and hoping she wouldn't be so mean to him. He loved her. He wanted her to have the pleasure offered by a real man. What did he have to do to prove his devotion? He wondered if the weekend had been a setup, that after she was satiated by Leo's cock she was going to tell Miguel she was done with him.

He pictured the two of them fucking. He doubted it was all animalistic coupling. He wondered what they talked about. Did she tell him she loved him? Were they discussing their future? 

The waitress did her best to engage him in conversation sensing he was troubled. He felt like talking but the feelings he had he couldn't share with a waitress. He wondered if that was why Jean was so eager to have him talk with Father G. Maybe she sensed he needed a confidante and what better confidante for him to have than her confidante. His gut told him she had confessed everything to Father G.

He imagined Jean and Leo fucking. Afterwards she held his cock in her hand and told him how much she loved it. She began to knead it making it grow hard again. He told her to suck it which she eagerly did. She liked the way it grew becoming too large for her to put her mouth around. He told her he was ready. She got on her back and opened her legs. He got on top of her, guided his cock into her. As he entered her she moaned. They fucked she loudly imploring him to fuck her. Even though she assured him she didn't love Leo he sensed she must have feelings for him. After all, she wanted to carry his baby. She might not want to admit it, but Miguel knew she loved Leo. She had two boyfriends, both of whom she loved.

If there's sufficient privacy, Jean can be quite vocal. In Leo's apartment she let loose. As he fucked her, she told him she wanted him to cum in her again. In Miguel's head, she told him how much she wanted to make a baby with him and he told her he was now madly in love with her and wanted to marry her and make her wish come true. She moaned she loved him also.

His gut snapped him out of his epiphany. He hurriedly walked to the bathroom, found a free stall, and not a moment too soon. He emptied the contents of his bowels in a rush. He would feel momentary relief then another cramp would hit followed by more diarrhea. He knew it was a combination of too much coffee and the anxiety he was feeling waiting for Jean to finish with Leo. 

Back at his table, he felt weak, but calm had replaced the nervous anxiety. The waitress had left him his bill. On it she had written him a note telling him everything would be okay. He left her a nice tip. He paid his bill, bought a packet of Pepto Bismol tablets, and gum. He chewed the tablets on the way to the car and to rid his mouth of the aftertaste chewed several sticks of gum.

He arrived at Leo's before 7:30. As fate or luck would have it the spot directly at the bottom of the stairwell was open. He pulled in, cut the engine, and waited. He stared at the top of the unlit stairwell. He looked for movement in the apartment. He took it as a good sign the lights were on. 

At 8 o'clock, the stairwell lit up. He heard their voices, but couldn't make out what they said. The stairwell grew dark and suddenly Jean was at the bottom looking directly at him. His heart filled with joy when she smiled at him. He grinned. She opened the front passenger door and got in. She scooted over to him and pressed the lips he knew had been wrapped around Leo's cock against his. He opened his mouth to receive her tongue, the tongue he knew she had run up and down Leo's cock, swirled around its head. He wondered if Leo had ejaculated in her mouth. He kissed her back. He didn't care. They kissed for several minutes. It felt so good to hold her. When they broke she said, "Hurry. Go to the school."

She clung to him as he drove to the school's back parking lot. 

He wanted to talk but she shushed him, "There will be plenty of time for questions later." 

She got in the back seat and was naked before he had gotten the towel out of the trunk and joined her. He got in the car and knelt on the floorboard. She lifted her bottom up and he slid the towel underneath her.

She opened her legs wide and implored him, "You said you wanted me. Now here I am. All yours."

The urgency in her voice was contagious and he wasted no time in foreplay but pressed his face to her vagina. 

"That's it," she groaned, "This is so hot. French kiss my vagina. Lick my lover's cum." 

She moaned and groaned and babbled both coherently and incoherently as he ate her. Their lovemaking was frenzied. It didn't take her long to orgasm. His climax hit him only seconds before hers. For the second time that day he was staining his underwear and pants with cum. He didn't care. It felt so good climaxing as he ate her.

She asked him to stop and give her a break. He did thinking she would want to talk, but after a few minutes of him resting his head on her pubis she said she was ready for more.

"This time, take your time. Nice and slow."

He did. As he savored her sex she shared with him the details of her 2 and a half hours with Leo, how they fucked and fucked and fucked. Three times, the last minutes before she left. She praised Leo's lovemaking as she thanked Miguel for being so understanding. He mumbled as he ate her he loved her. 

She answered, "I never doubted it. What you are doing right now makes me feel so loved. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She was so unabashedly happy he couldn't help but feel happy too. He wasn't just a good boyfriend, but a great boyfriend, the best boyfriend ever. As he licked and kissed Jean's pink flesh no longer smelling or tasting Leo's presence he pictured the two of them fucking. He knew it had to be good or Jean wouldn't have come back for more. 

Jean encouraged him to join her, "Miguel, take it out and jack off for me."

He unzipped his pants, fished his penis out, and while he made love to Jean pumped his manhood.

What pushed them both over the edge was what Jean said as they neared their respective climaxes, "I just know I'm pregnant. Leo and I made a baby. You're going to be a daddy. We're going to get married."

He came against the towel and she flooded his face with her juices. 

He thought it but she was the one who said it first, "Wow. That was so intense."

He answered, "Yes, it was."

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Even with Leo I never orgasm like I do with you."

Her words were music to his ears. 

"Rest your head against me Miguel."

He asked, "Jean, shouldn't we get dressed? This is where."

She cut him off, "Leo found us. Are you worried or hoping another cop might find us in a compromising position?" She laughed before continuing, "Next time I won't wait to go on a date. I will let him fuck me in the back seat while you sit handcuffed in the backseat of his car. Seriously, I know you're right, but I want to enjoy the moment. I can't wait until we have our own house, Miguel."

His cheek pressed against her pubis, he answered, "Me too." He was tired of being apart and their lovemaking sessions being on school parking lots or cheap hotels. 

She stroked his hair as he rested his face on her thatch. "Three weeks. I'm so proud of you. Was it worth it?"

"It was hard. I took a lot of cold showers. I didn't want to disappoint you. Yes. My climax in the parking lot was so intense."

"Good. I told Father G you worshiped me."

A few minutes later it was Jean who suggested they dress and leave. She watched as he tucked his now shrunken penis back into his pants and zipped up. She then asked him to help her with her bra leaning forward so he could fasten it. She then had him help put her panties on followed by her dress. Lastly she had him put her shoes on but not before encouraging him to enjoy a quick suck of her big toe. His mouth around her toe caused her to squirm, "Keep that up mister and you'll be eating me again," she threatened before pulling her foot away.

They got in the front seat. She had him drive. We exited the parking lot and she told him to find the nearest restaurant as she was starving. In the restaurant she chose a table far from the others where they could have privacy.

He hadn't been hungry but now he too felt ravenous. She insisted they share the same booth and they shared a single menu. She caressed his leg. Her euphoria was contagious. She was giggling as she ordered her meal. He didn't know what was so funny but he had a hard time ordering. Their waitress rolled her eyes at the two lovebirds, but deep down she wished she and her boyfriend had a relationship so obviously committed to one another.

The waitress left. Miguel asked Jean why she was giggling so much. She said it wasn't over any one thing but the entire weekend. She said it had been their best day as a couple ever. 

"Ever?" he asked.

"Ever," she answered before explaining, "You went to Mass with me. You kept your promise. I got to see Leo. And best of all you got to enjoy me after I had been with Leo."

"You're right. It really has been a great day."

She kissed him and asked, "How was it for you?"

He played dumb, "While you were with Leo?"

"Yes, what else do you think I was asking about?"

"Hard. I had a wicked stomach ache and diarrhea. Waiting for you to come downstairs seemed to take forever. I was so worried someone would see me and wonder what I was doing and call the police. I was so relieved to see you."

"Me too. I wondered If you would be there or if it would be too much for you to handle. And the parking lot? How was that?"

"Amazing."

"You had quite the appetite. I could tell you were super aroused. Is it his smell or taste on me that turns you on or knowing what we did?"

"Everything."

"I came so hard."

"So did I," even though his first climax was in his pants and his second was when he masturbated.

She changed the subject, "What did you think of Father G?"

"He seems nice."

"Good. Don't forget next Saturday you have a meeting with him. It's very important to me for you to be there."

"I'll be there. What will he want to discuss?"

"Us."

"Oh."

"Don't worry. He's on our side. Besides, he's my new boss. I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I am going to start working in the rectory."

"Congratulations. What will you be doing?"

"Answering the phones and the door. Warming up their dinner. Washing their clothes. Keeping their schedule."

"How did you find out about it?"

"My mom. She heard the girl who is there now is leaving soon to have a baby. I'm going to stay there until I have my baby."

"Are you pregnant?"

"I don't know but I hope I am. We're going to need Father G's help when we break the news to my parents. He'll calm my dad down."

"I'm not looking forward to telling your parents, especially your dad. Your mom's not going to take it well either. She thinks you're still a virgin."

Their food arrived and they ate, barely talking. When she was done she seemed ready to leave. He was going to get a cup of coffee. He liked chatting with her, but decided against it. He asked for the check. The waitress left to prepare the check and Jean whispered to him, "I know you have a long drive ahead of you, but I really want your tongue licking my used pussy one last time before you go."



Chance Encounter Ch. 24



Jean's dried up juices on his face, her scent he smelled with every breath he took, Miguel headed back to school. Their last lovemaking session had been a one sided affair; he had licked, kissed, sucked, and fingered Jean to orgasm. She didn't ask him afterwards if he came or even encouraged him to masturbate, but instead thanked him for the big O and commented on how it was getting late. She needed to be home as she had a full day ahead of her and he needed to be on the road. She said it worried her when he drove home so late. He didn't complain, but dried her, then helped her put her panties back on, followed by her shoes. He started to wipe his face but she told him not, "I want my smell on you until you wake up tomorrow." 

She had him drive the car back to her house. Snuggled up against him she caressed his inner thigh as her breasts pressed against his arm. At her house, she walked him to his already packed car. As they hugged and kissed she ground herself against him acknowledging his erection. When they quit kissing she said, "Remember, next Saturday," and rubbing her pubis against his erection, "And no masturbation."

He answered, "I will and I won't."

Six days later he pulled into the rectory parking lot wishing he could first see Jean and have a hands free orgasm as he ate her. The rectory was a two story, all brick, rectangular building. He was nervous wondering what he and Father G would talk about. He was also intrigued wondering why their kisses and hugs kept popping up in his thoughts. Their kisses were just lip to lip, but they weren't friendly pecks. They just seemed to last longer than a kiss between a pastor and parishoner should. As for their hugs Jean molded her body to his and after kissing Father she turned her head and looked at Miguel, challenging him he thought. Miguel wondered, "Is she reminding me all men, even priests, are fair game?"

The door to the rectory was locked. He rang the doorbell. A minute later a female opened the door. She was young, cute, her breasts enormous on someone so slight and her belly looked painfully swollen. Miguel immediately knew she was the girl Jean was replacing.

She escorted him to Father's office. Father was at his desk. He looked up, told Miguel to take a seat, and said, "Thank you, Kris. I'll see you and your husband upstairs at 1." 

She enthusiastically replied, 'We'll be there. I can't wait."

Miguel glanced at her and swore he had seen that same look on Jean, arousal. He shrugged it off thinking his own arousal was making him think everyone was as horny as he. She closed the door.

Father stood up so Miguel did. He reached across the desk. Miguel shook his hand. His grip Miguel noted was surprisingly firm for what appeared to be a very soft looking man. His grip wasn't intimidating, but something told him there was plenty of strength left in Father's grip.

"Before we get started, how was your trip? We have alot to talk about, but before we get started I need a restroom break. I'm sure you do too or did you already go."

Miguel did need to go. He was glad Father suggested it because he was about to ask where the restroom was. They walked down the hall and entered the restroom. The restroom didn't have individual urinals but a trough. Standing side by side they faced the wall. Miguel normally didn't feel self conscious urinating around others, but Father made him nervous. 

Miguel unzipped his fly and fished out through his tighty whiteys his penis. It felt even smaller than normal. He held it and aimed trying to relax his bladder.

Father unbuckled his pants, unsnapped his pants and boxers and reached his hand into the open fly and retrieved his manhood. Miguel stared straight ahead, but his peripheral vision captured Father's movements. What he saw next caused him to look down. Father's cock came into view. Soft, it was easily a half foot long and thick. At the end of that thick shaft was the head of his cock, even wider than the shaft. From it a blast of urine began to flow hitting the backside of the urinal.

With his free hand Father G reached up and pushed the lever down sending water the length of the trough, "Shy bladder," he remarked. Since he was already urinating Miguel knew he was referring to him. Father continued to urinate aiming his cock in various directions, shaking it, then squeezing out a few more drops commenting as he did, "Shaking the dew off my lily." Unlike Miguel he had to tuck his manhood back into his boxers.

It wasn't until he stepped away from the urinal and began washing his hands that Miguel's bladder relaxed enough. His bladder had been painfully full but all that initially exited was a rather weak stream. It wasn't until Father said he would see him back in the office and exited that Miguel's urine began to really flow. He felt embarrassed at the way he froze in front of Father, intimidated by his manhood and self confidence. As he washed his hands afterward he wondered what if Father's opinion of him had lessened. Ten minutes earlier he had felt like a grown man; now he felt like a little kid in a room full of adults.

He exited the restroom surprised to see Father waiting for him. 

"Since Jean will be working here and I'm sure you will be spending many of your Sundays here keeping her company, I thought I'd give you a nickel tour of the rectory. This floor is all offices. He went by each office pointing out the ones occupied by the parish staff. Of the dozen offices, priests used three of them, Father E, a 50ish priest from Nigeria, and Father D, a 60ish priest from Sicily. 

"Ours is a popular parish Miguel. We have lots of visiting priests. We have one office for them and a couple of spare bedrooms for them upstairs."

They entered the stairwell and descended to the basement, "Down here are meeting rooms. Lots of groups use our meeting rooms. If you're not too busy on Sundays Jean will need your help setting up and cleaning the rooms. She'll show you what to do."

Miguel said, "I'd be glad to help her."

Father smiled, "I know you will. She'll be busy tending to us for lunch and dinner. During lunch she'll need you to answer the door and take phone calls."

Miguel nodded, "I can do that." He could already see Jean's new job was going to make Sundays anything but relaxing. He decided if he wanted to stay on Jean's good side he would not point out anything negative and just go with the flow. Besides he thought, "This is what couples do, support each other."

Finished with the basement they ascended the stairs to the second floor. Father pointed ou the laundry room. One of Jean's duties was to put away the clothes; a lady during the day washed, dried, and folded the clothes. He then pointed out the various bedrooms for visitors and guests, but the only one he showed Miguel was his bedroom. Miguel was expecting a spartan room, but it was anything but.

Father laughed, "A bit much isn't it. A very generous parishoner donated the furnishings. King sized beds in all the rooms."

The rooms screamed rich. He was sleeping on a twin bed; he used milk crates for nightstands. His bookshelves were planks resting on cinder blocks. Father's room was all Ethan Allen. His parents didn't even have a king sized bed and certainly not one as nice as Father's. 

Miguel didn't want to say anything negative about priests and vows of poverty so he instead said, "It's very nice."

"Nice is an understatement; it's way over the top, but we couldn't turn down his generosity. We're very spoiled here, treated almost like royalty. You wouldn't believe the gifts our parishoners offer; it's as though they really believe we can influence who St. Peter lets in."

They left Father's bedroom and walked down the hall, stopping at what he called the break room. Oversized leather recliners big enough for two, custom made oversized chairs and ottomans the size of his bed, and one of the new projection screen t. .v.s filled the room. 

"You can see why we spend a lot of our free time in here Miguel. Everything is so comfortable. That recliner there is my favorite, comfortable for one but big enough for two. This is where we go after dinner."

The last two rooms they toured were the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen reminded Miguel of a restaurant's while the dining room had a table and chairs for a dozen. They exited the kitchen but not before Father grabbed them each a Coke. Back in his office, Father closed the door and said, "Before we start let's begin with a prayer." 

Together they made the sign of the cross and recited aloud the Lord's Prayer. Finished, Father said, "Wait, I want to anoint you."

He took a bottle of oil from his desk, opened it, pressed his thumb against the top as he tilted it. He then placed his thumb on Miguel's forehead making the sign of the cross and asked, "God, May you fill Miguel with the Holy Spirit and open his eyes. Encourage him to be true to himself, to not question your plan, to not just be Jean's faithful companion, but her rock. Amen."

Miguel thought it was a most unusual blessing, but he really hadn't attended Mass often and he was pretty certain the last time he had been anointed with oil was at baptism. He found himself saying Amen and wondered if Father's blessing was one he gave all couples or tailor made for Miguel and Jean. He wondered to what extent Jean had confided in him. 

Father wiped his thumb clean, put the lid back on the bottle, and beckoned for Miguel to sit down. He went behind his desk and sat down.

He looked at Miguel and asked, "Jean tells me the two of you plan to marry. Is that true?"

"Yes sir", he answered.

"You don't have to call me sir; instead just say yes, Father or no, Father."

"Yes Father."

"In order to receive the sacrament of marriage the church requires you and Jean to attend marriage counseling or Pre Cana classes. I normally counsel a couple together, but since you're not here during the week and the classes are held during the week I will counsel each of you separately until our schedules allow all three of us to be here. Jean's already begun her classes."

He continued, "There is no test and nothing to pass. Our goal is to make sure you and Jean understand the importance of marriage, how your union is forever, and how your faith should be its foundation. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Since marriage ultimately is about procreation a great deal of our time will be spent on sexuality. Catholics come in all flavors Miguel meaning it's no surprise they express love for one another in just as many flavors. There is a caveat however to what I just said. Do you know what it is?"

"No, Father I don't."

"Lovemaking should bring two people together and it should always be open to the possibility of creating life. There should be no barriers. No condoms, no withdrawal, no birth control pills, diaphragms, IUD. Catholics like you and Jean should adopt natural family planning linking their lovemaking to a woman's reproductive cycle. Semen is absorbed into the blood system through the vagina. It contains compounds that elevate a woman's mood, two of them being serotonine and oxytocin. Semen puts her in a great mood, but only if it enters the bloodstream. Any other climax, while enjoyable for you and her, will not have the same effect as one released into the vagina."

Father continued, "I think you know where I'm going with this. Your climax, particularly where you climax, is more than just a moment of bliss. Released inside the vagina it makes your bond with her stronger. Anywhere else and it has no effect. Jean tells me you and she have engaged in intercourse, but have not in the past six weeks. Is that true?"

Miguel answered, "Yes, Father, but I always used a condom except for the last time when she was certain she was not fertile."

Father asked, "And of all those times which one was the most satisfying for the two of you?"

"The last time Father."

"So if Jean got pregnant the last time you had unprotected intercourse you would be open to marrying her."

"Of course, Father."

Father began to reveal just how much he knew when he said, "Jean and her mom have both told me Jean is seeing another man. Jean says she has not been unfaithful to you. Is that true?"

Miguel's cheeks flushed. His answer came out choked, "Yes, Father, that's true."

Father smiled, but his grin was more triumphant than friendly reminding Miguel of a prosecutor about to blow a case wide open, "She also says they have been sexually intimate. Is that true?"

Miguel thought about acting surprised but decided lying to a priest would be pointless, "Yes, Father, it's true. Jean and Leo are sexually intimate."

"And Jean says you approve of she and this Leo fellow having barrier free sexual intercourse. She also says she is trying to get pregnant from Leo and she says you approve. Finally, she says you have agreed to abstain from sexual intercourse with her until she gets pregnant."

Miguel answered yes three times. His innermost secrets now revealed he felt smaller than small. 

Father, however, wasn't through, "She says your size and lack of stamina deny her the coital bliss she experiences with other men. Being forced into the beds of other men angers her and causes her to resent you. She says her orgasms with you are strongest after she's been with other men but the really strong ones are when she expresses her anger at you while you pleasure her?"

Miguel responded, "I can't change what I have Father. I'm well aware of my size and stamina issues and when I do forget Jean is happy to remind me. I know she's mad at me, but that guilt is hers, not mine. I don't make her feel guilty. I know I am very supportive.

And yes, I've noticed the strongest orgasms are when she's treated me the worst." He took a breath and in a very soft voice finished his thought, "And Father, so are mine."

Father put his hand to his ear and asked, "Miguel, speak up. I didn't hear that last part."

Miguel answered in a much louder tone, "Father, I said, and so are mine. The most intense orgasms I have are when Jean has treated me the worst."

"And how are you climaxing Miguel if you are not having intercourse with Jean? Fellatio? She masturbating you?"

"Neither, Father. Most of the time they just happen while I'm eating her. A few times she's encouraged me to masturbate after she's orgasmed or while I'm eating her."

"Spontaneous orgasms? Well, the mind is the biggest sex organ. What are you thinking about when you eat her?"

"Lots of things. How much I love her. Her smell and taste. Picturing her body as Leo makes love to her. Picturing her face as she experiences coital bliss. Imagining Leo's cock going in and out of her. Seeing his scrotum tighten as he ejaculates inside her. Thinking about her getting pregnant."

Miguel's nervousness and shame evaporated. It was nice being able to confide in someone other than Jean. Finished, he waited for Father to respond.

"Changing gears Miguel, do you know Jean loves Leo?"

"Yes, but Jean told me it's different from the way she loves me."

"Miguel, what does she mean by different? I could interpret different as her feelings for him are getting stronger and her feelings for you are diminishing. While you and she are physically affectionate, the affection is increasingly one sided. Even more confusing is she's made it clear. She wants to make a baby with him, not you. I think his deposits of semen inside her vagina are bringing them closer together."

"Father, it's not as one sided as you think. She just wants to make there's no doubt regarding paternity."

"Why is that Miguel?"



Chance Encounter Ch. 25



Miguel threw Father's question back at him, "Why? I'm sure Jean told you her reasons."

Father insisted Miguel answer the question, "I'm not asking her. I'm asking you."

Miguel took in a deep breath then exhaled slowly, "Well, Father it's because of her faith. She believes conception should occur at the moment of coital orgasm. She could get pregnant from me, but she wouldn't conceive at the moment of coital bliss. Denying me intercourse reduces to zero the probability of her getting pregnant while not experiencing coital bliss."

"It seems to me Jean has placed too much importance on conception and coital orgasm."

Miguel answered, "All I know Father is if it matters to Jean it matters to me."

Father smiled, "Miguel, the rock. She said I would understand why she wants to marry you even as her feelings for Leo have evolved into love."

"Father, her love for Leo isn't just tied to his semen making her more comfortable with him or feeling good around him, but her appreciation for how he made what she thought impossible, possible. She now knows there is nothing wrong with her, but with me. Leo has made it quite clear to her he has zero interest in marriage or fatherhood, but if his feelings and hers change after they conceive

I will step aside because it's the right thing to do."

"Your nobility is touching, Miguel but it could also be an excuse to get out of a relationship."

"Father, if I wanted to break up with Jean I wouldn't have driven 5 hours on a Saturday morning to meet with you. I don't see it as being noble, but as pragmatic."

"Pragmatic maybe, but emotionally it has to be tearing you up inside?"

Miguel sighed, "Right now it's tough because she is pushing up the time table. She wants to get married sooner but believes she has to force their hand."

"She might force her dad's hand who will tell her to marry Leo."

"I know which is why I want to accept paternity."

"So, out of love you're willing to be her cuckold?"

From the look on his face, Father knew Miguel was unfamiliar with the word, "The cuckoo bird lays its eggs in another bird's nest. The male bird raises the cuckoo bird's offspring as if they were his own. Leo is laying with Jean and attempting to fertilize her egg. If he succeeds you will raise their child but unlike the cuckoo bird you will know it's not yours. Most men aren't cuckolds by choice, but there are exceptions, you being one."

Father let Miguel think about what he said, "You do understand Leo is the first, but not the last man Jean will have sexual intercourse with. The behavior you are seeing now you will see again and again."

Miguel said, "I know. I can live with it."

Father asked, "What about your family? What will they think? Marriage is more than just two people."

Miguel answered, "They love Jean. My mom thinks she and Jean are cut from the same cloth. She says a woman like Jean, intelligent, strong, and independent, needs a man like me, selfless and supportive, just like my dad."

"But when they see the child it will obviously not have any of your features. Tongues will wag. There will be innuendos; in fact it will embolden other cuckoo birds to lay their eggs in your nest."

Miguel replied, "It will only be an issue if we allow it. Our families won't say anything if they see how accepting we are of the baby and how openly affectionate we are. If we're happy they'll be happy."

Father asked, "Miguel, describe for me a typical day spent with Jean."

Miguel spent the next five minutes talking about all the things they did together.

Father said, "I'm glad you are connecting emotionally and socially. Jean gave similar answers. What the two of you have is a fetish. It's important the fetish doesn't become more important than the relationship. You seem content with her taking the reins. You're able to handle and accept what most would consider difficult and unacceptable demands literally turning your pain into pleasure. You make what she desires your desire. Am I right?"

Miguel pondered the question, "Yes, you are."

Father answered, "I'm glad you agree because I know I am. I have previous experience dealing with couples like you, but only after they've been married. During the course of their marriage she finds herself sexually unfulfilled and out of curiosity or more often than not his insistence she takes a lover, experiences for the first time real sexual fulfillment, the coital bliss Jean describes, which forever alters her relationship with her husband. She ultimately holds the power in the marriage. Many men bolt, but a great number don't. They assume a subordinate role accepting and even being aroused and loving their wife more for her infidelities. Enhancing or pursuing more extramarital relationships for her becomes the focus if not the glue holding their marriage together, increasing his desire for her which makes her feel even more loved." 

Miguel brightened at the news he and Jean, while unique, were not alone. Out of curiosity he asked, "Do the husbands in these marriages have affairs?"

Father asked, "Why? Are you contemplating one?"

Miguel answered, "Curiosity and no I am not contemplating one. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how different I am. Jean is the only woman I want."

Father said, "Of all the cuckold couples I've counseled and there have been quite a few, no. For many reasons their fidelity makes sense. The fetish or focal point of their marriage and their sexual intimacy is her lover or boyfriend. He's attaining the best sexual satisfaction of his life as is she. Cheating or evenly openly dating others would diminish that satisfaction. Furthermore she's the one who holds the power. She has a lover who would probably marry her if she pursued the idea. On the other hand, the cuckold's next lover would find him sexually disappointing. She might marry him, but eventually the cycle would play itself out again. Biology trumping reason. You might think you chose to be a cuckold, but you didn't. At birth your destiny was sealed. Luckily you encountered the right woman. Think about all the other cuckolds out there in denial bouncing from marriage to marriage unwilling to accept themelves. They are self loathing, perenially unhappy, human beings."

Miguel thought about his own family; his mom and Jean were so much alike, independent, strong, dominating their relationships. His dad was like him, doting, supportive, never complaining. His dad did everything around the house. His mother went out constantly while his dad stayed home. He remembered the rumors about her and how he had his first fight with a boy over something ugly he had said about his mom. His brothers were older, complete opposites of he and his dad, but they had their mom's personality. As for looks they were big, strong men, with reputations as ladies' men. At times and this was one of them he wished he was more like his brothers, his mom, or even Jean.

Father looked at the clock; everything was on track. In another hour he would be upstairs carefully and lovingly giving Kris, the very pregnant rectory assistant one final fuck before she delivered. It was only fitting it was also her last day at work. He hadn't yet decided whether to invite her cuckold husband in to watch and assist or have him man the phones and answer the door while he pleasured Kris. He felt a stirring in his loins.

"Moving on, my goal here Miguel is not to change you and Jean's relationship, but to make it conform with church teachings."

Miguel wondered how that was remotely possible as what little he did know about his faith told him adultery wasn't allowed.

"First I'm glad Jean is no longer using any barriers to prevent conception; that Leo's climaxes are always inside her vagina. She also told me, in keeping with church belief all climaxes need to occur in the vagina she directed you to cease masturbating. Is that true?"

"Father, it is."

"But you're still having climaxes."

"Well, yes, but they're......",

Father cut him off, "They're not inside Jean's vagina. You do want to do what's right don't you? Jean wants you too."

Miguel protested, "It's not like I can stop them. They just happen. The only way I can stop them is to cut off sexual contact with Jean. Is that what she wants?"

Father looked at him as though he was the class dunce, "No, that's not what she wants. How she orgasms is both relevant and irrelevant. There is nothing sacred about her orgasms, but there are valid physiological, psychological, and religious reasons regarding your climaxes. She sees her orgasms via coitus as affirmation from above, that she is walking a just path, but there is nothing in scripture or church teachings to support her belief. That's not to say her belief isn't valid. I believe every woman should be able to experience orgasms during intercourse. I view it more as a right so in that sense it is God given. On the other hand where you climax weakens or enhances your relationship with Jean."

Miguel said, "I don't know if I believe that Father. Jean and I are plenty close."

Father answered, "If you're so certain then you wouldn't mind sacrificing them."

Miguel countered, "But I'm already abstaining."

Father said, "It's not enough. What Jean and I are asking is total abstinence. Don't look at me like I'm insane. It would be temporary, until she's pregnant. I would ask you to continue abstaining until marriage but I know how difficult a request that is for young people who are having premarital sex. It's a win win for all Miguel. Jean gets her baby. You get Jean and within a short time of climaxing in her vagina you will be closer than ever. Best of all Miguel you don't have to take precautions and neither does Jean because she can't get pregnant while she's pregnant."

Miguel didn't say anything. Father let him mull over his proposition but pulled out a cassette recorder.

"Miguel I want you to listen this." He pressed play. 

A second later they were listening to Jean, "Hi Miguel, this is Jean. Father thought I should make this tape. I want you to have one hundred percent faith in him like you have in me. You are the love of my life, my man and my cuckold I can't believe I said it. Until Father I didn't even know there was such a word. You make me so happy. I'm sorry for all the grief I've given you. I'll try to be better. Regarding where a man climaxes Father is right. My feelings for Leo have grown, but I also know they are transitory and I would have those feelings regardless of the man. They are more physiological than psychological. I look forward to when you and I will be closer not just on an intellectual, emotional level but on a physiological one. I adore the way you pleasure me. Giving that up would push me even closer to someone like Leo. I want you to do this for me Miguel, for your girl. Father completely understands us. He knows how to make this work. He's made it work for other couples. He's going to work with you, with us, to make our relationship even better, to take down any fences you've put up. You're my cuckold Miguel. I love you."

Father hit stop.

"Are you on board, Miguel?" Father asked.

"I am."

"Excellent", he opened a drawer, took out a gift wrapped box, and placed it in on the desk in front of Miguel.

Miguel looked at it wondering what he did to get a gift.

Father said, "Miguel, open it."

Miguel did. Inside was something shiny and metallic. He asked, "Father, what is it?"

"A chastity cage, to prevent you from climaxing. It's temporary, until Jean gets pregnant and you marry."

"How do I wear it Father?"

Father took the box and pulled out the cage, "Your penis goes in this metal tube. The chain attaches to the base of the tube. You loop the chain under your scrotum to keep it secure. There's a leather sheath you can needle the chain through, to lessen the chafing. It will take some getting used to. I recommend applying olive oil twice a day, just a few drops.

Miguel flipped the box over. Out dropped two keys and a lock. He asked, "What are these for?"

Father answered, "To prevent you from cheating. We're all weak Miguel. Don't think of this as a lock, but as insurance. Once you've put the cage on and are happy with the fit I will lock the chain in place. One key stays here. The other one you give Jean. She will be your keyholder. Your future climaxes will be at her discretion, not yours."

Miguel took the tube from Father. It was well crafted, no sharp edges, the metal shiny. It was he had to admit a handsome piece of craftmanship. 

"Put it on in here. I want to watch."

Miguel stood up, unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. His penis, never big in the first place, looked even smaller. He was both excited and nervous as hell. He fastened the chain to one end of the tube and grabbing his penis slid it into the tube.

Father said, "Wait. Apply some of the chrism oil to your penis and scrotum. Put the chain through the leather sheath."

Miguel put the tube down and standing in front of Father oiled his genitals.

Father handed him some tissues to dry his hands. He then slipped his penis back into the tube, routed the chain under his scrotum and was about to hook it to the tube when Father said, "Tighter. You'll want it much tighter or it could slip off. It should squeeze your scrotum."

Miguel tightened the chain but Father said, "That's too much. Let it out by two links. You want it secure not to give you gangrene."

Miguel did as Father directed. There was no sexual undercurrent as both were focused on the task.

"Good. Now come over here Miguel."

Miguel waddled with his pants down to his knees to where Father was seated. Father picked up the lock and smoothly locked it into place. He then did something Miguel wasn't expecting. He caressed Miguel's scrotum commenting as he did, "How tight they are, ready to burst." He then tugged on the tube and remarked how the fit was snug, "Your penis Miguel is going nowhere. Now walk around. Do some jumping jacks."

Miguel did.

"How does it feel?"

Miguel answered, "Fine. It's weird not having my testicles hang free."

"You'll get used to it Miguel. Soon you'll feel as though it's always been a part of you. The worst part will be at night. Those nighttime erections will be a thing of the past. In fact you'll hope you don't have them because they will make your testicles ache, like you've been kicked. Don't worry though; it will hurt but not kill you. Now come over here and kneel between my legs."

Miguel did. Father applied more oil on his thumb and making the sign of the cross on Miguel's forehead blessed him encouraging him to be strong, like a rock. He asked, "Miguel, have you been confirmed?"

Miguel answered, "No Father."

Father replied, "Then we need to work on getting you confirmed. Since you are Jean's rock I think your confirmation name should be Peter. Before you go we have one more thing to do. Look down. Focus on my left inseam. You see the outline of my cock don't you? Mine is so much bigger than yours isn't it? It's a man sized cock capable of bringing Jean to coital bliss. Run your hand along it."

Miguel didn't move. He just stared at Father's inseam. Father pressed the play button on the recorder. Jean's voice filled the room. He started to lift his head, but Father stopped him. He heard Jean say, "Miguel as my cuckold I want you to have an appreciation for my lover's cock. He's not there so Father has been kind enough to fill in. Do as Father says. I know you want to. It's one thing to see a cock in a magazine or a movie but quite another to see it up close and personal. Go on. Run your hand along it. Soft it reminds you of an oversized hose. Squeeze it."

"Now I want you to unbuckle his belt. Undo his slacks. Lower his zipper. Now reach into his boxers and bring it out. Quite impressive isn't it? Caress it. Watch it grow. See the veins protrude as it gets harder, the head turning a deep purple. Look how long and thick it is, made to give women a snapshot of heaven. Have Father take down his pants. Look at his balls. Weigh them in your hands. Don't they remind you of a bull's? Don't they scream virile? Are you still stroking it? Good. I bet you need both hands to jack it. Now I want you to kiss it. Softly with reverence. Now run your tongue along its length. That's it cuck. Make him hard. Someday you will do this in front of me. Father calls it fluffing. You will make what was is now soft erect again. That's enough, cuck. Grab the shaft with one hand and imagine yourself guiding that cock into your wife. Picture the pleasure she'll experience as that cock goes in and out of her vagina"

"Good cuck. I'm so wet right now. Put your mouth back on his cock, but no sucking. Leave no part of his manhood untouched. That's it lick his balls. Think of them filling me with their cum making us a baby. Now listen and lick."

The next five or was it ten minutes consisted of someone fucking Jean. Her partner never said a word. Jean's breath was ragged, broken up by high pitched oohs and aahs and more than a few yesses and oh Gods. He kept his mouth glued to Father's cock which looked ready to burst. He was totally turned on by what he was doing, but more importantly by what he was hearing that he ignored his squished penis which had no place to go. His balls fared worse as his excitement made them swell.

When he heard Jean cum the first time her lover's pace picked up. He was hammering her pussy. Her second orgasm and her lover's first reminded Miguel of when he ate Jean and shot off in his pants as she came. His arousal peaked but there was no relief but pain as though someone was pricking his scrotum with lots of needles.

Father pushed his head away reminding him of Jean doing that when she was too sensitive to be licked, "That's enough, Miguel."

Miguel protested, "But Father..".

Father stood firm, "No buts." Miguel got off of his knees and Father stood up his cock sticking straight out. Miguel thought it had to be at least 9 inches long. 

Father told him to take a seat. He reached over and hit the stop button on the recorder. He was breathing hard, "That felt a little too good Miguel. You almost convinced me but your throat isn't a vagina. Then again maybe I should make an exception." They watched as his manhood grew soft. When Father was satisfied it was soft enough to be pliable he returned it to the inside of his underwear. He then zipped up, buttoned up, and buckled up. 

Done securing his manhood Father said, "Done. Now when is the next time you can come down? How about in two weeks? Same time?"

Miguel answered, "Yes, that works for me."

Father escorted Miguel to the rectory front door. As they passed the receptionist's office he barked at the receptionist and the man Miguel assumed was her husband, "Upstairs, now. Both of you." They were out of the room before Miguel was out the door. He and Father shook hands and said goodbye. His departure seemed so businesslike Miguel thought made all the more peculiar by the fact not ten minutes prior he was down on his knees fellating Father. As Miguel saw it, even if he didn't take his cock into his mouth it still counted as a blowjob.



Chance Encounter Ch. 26



The distance between Jean's house and the rectory wasn't far and Miguel soon found himself in front of Jean's house. He didn't know how he felt as only minutes had passed since he had been on his knees performing fellatio on Father G while listening to Jean being fucked. Within seconds of the tape ending Father G had pushed him away from his cock and sent him on his way. Spotting Jean's car he parked behind hers. He hoped she was the only one home as he wanted to share everything with her. He also hoped Jean would open up and tell him everything about her relationship with Father. 

He got out of the car noticing as he walked a dull ache in his testicles. He looked down to see if it was obvious he was wearing a chastity device and felt relief that it wasn't. He rang the doorbell. Jean's mom opened the door. She seemed happy and excited to see him. She welcomed him inside. Within seconds she informed him Jean was out and wouldn't be back for several hours, her husband and sons were deer hunting and gone for the weekend, and she was hosting a party that evening and Jean had volunteered him to help. He didn't ask where Jean was, but assumed she was with Leo. He told her he would be more than happy to help her with the party which as it turned out wasn't really a party, but a meeting of her friends to have dinner, drink, gossip, and play canasta.

He wore slacks and a dress shirt for his meeting with Father. He was about to suggest to her he go to his car and get a change of clothes when she pointed him to Jean's bedroom, telling him, "Jean laid out some clothes for you. She doesn't want your clothes to get dirty. She said you'll need them for tonight."

Miguel went in to her room and spotted on Jean's table an envelope with some clothes underneath them. He opened the envelope and took out the note which read, "Miguel, I want you to wear these clothes while you help Mom. All of the clothes. We have lots to talk about. Love. Jean".

He put the note back in the envelope, folded it, and put it in his pants pocket for safekeeping. He looked at the clothes. There was a t shirt, a pair of gym shorts, and last, a pair of black panties. He quickly changed hoping Jean's mom would not make an unannounced entrance. The shorts fit strange and he wondered if it was because they were cut for a woman. He noticed the same thing with the shirt. As for the panties they were obviously made for a woman. He was glad Jean's dad and brothers wouldn't see him.

He put his clothes on hangers and hung them in Jean's closet. His socks, shoes, and briefs he put in the closet closing the door so they would be out of sight.

He entered the kitchen. If Jean's mom noticed anything different about his clothing she didn't act like it. She set him to work vacuuming, mopping, dusting, and scrubbing. Miguel focused on the jobs at hand as his cage reminded him all too painfully it was best not to let his mind wander. He liked Jean's note as he too had lots to share, but wondered if her talk was more of announcement.

The day's activities were having a pronounced affect on Miguel psychologically and physically. It was the first time he felt completely submissive and that feeling felt fine. It was he thought a welcome and much needed break from the real, more competitive world. There was only one choice, to submit, defer to another's authority, be it Jean, Father G, or as he was doing now, Jean's mom as he cleaned her house from top to bottom.

Wearing Jean's clothes, being caged, doing housework, and confined to the house while Jean was out he found soothing, not troubling. Her stature grew as his diminished and he found that to be okay. 

Jean's mom checked on him from time to time inspecting what he had cleaned, dusted, vacuumed, approving or pointing out something he had overlooked, watching him accomplish it to her satisfaction before directing him to the next task. After cleaning the living room, dining room, and hall bathroom she had him dust and vacuum the bedrooms. Each bedroom sparked vivid sexual memories, Jean sneaking into the bedroom he was staying in while he was deep asleep and sucking his penis, her transferring his cum back to him in a long french kiss, standing in the bathroom listening to Jean's parents make love, seeing the bed on which they made love that night, but the room holding the most memories was Jean's bedroom. He remembered watching her ass as she lay on her stomach making plans to see Leo and how badly he had wanted to press his face between her buttocks and to lick, kiss, and suck her backside. Then there were all the times he had eaten her in that room.

Finished with all the rooms Jean's mom said he could help her with the food preparation. She didn't engage him in a lot of small talk, but did remind him a time or two Jean was out and was running late. She chuckled at one point when she said, "Jean said you're at my disposal until she gets home. Then you're all hers." 

He answered her by telling her he was there to do what she needed. 

She replied telling him, "Good, but I'm running out of things for you to do. I will need the kitchen floor swept and mopped, the trash taken out, and the table set. Hopefully you'll have it done before she gets home."

"I'm sure she'll want me to keep helping you until you're through with me," he answered before asking, "Did she say when she might be home?"

"She didn't. I'm sure she's having a good time and forgot about the time." 

Her last comment he wondered if she meant it as a dig, wanting to get an emotional reaction out of him. He just answered, "I'm sure she is."

In the kitchen they repeated the same routine as when he was cleaning the house. After every task she inspected his work, pointing out deficiencies he promptly corrected before giving her final approval. She then had him do another task followed by another inspection. He finished the food preparation and she directed him to start cleaning the kitchen beginning with the sink,followed by the countertops and floor.

The phone rang as he was finishing up the floor. Jean's mom answered it. The call was brief. Her mom said she would tell Miguel. She also said he had been very good and had been a great help. She thanked her for loaning him out and laughed saying she could get used to Jean loaning Miguel out. The phone call ended and Jean's mom said, "Miguel, Jean will be home in ten minutes. She'll call when she pulls up to the house. She'll need your help to bring something in."

It was Miguel thought mysterious; he wondered what she needed help with. He also wondered how she was going to call him from the car. He thought Jean's mom meant she would honk the horn when she was in front of the house.

The ten minutes turned to fifteen and his anxiety built as the urgency to see Jean grew. He was setting the table when the phone rang. Jean's mom answered it and said she would send Miguel out. She turned to him and said, "Miguel, Jean's outside waiting for you."

He hurried to the front door and it wasn't until he had closed the door behind him that he noticed an unfamiliar car parked behind his car. The car was a brand new Lincoln, burgundy in color. Right away he noticed the driver wasn't Jean but a man he had never seen. Through the front window he could see Jean. She was sitting beside the driver. He approached the driver's side. The window was down. The man looked nervous. He greeted Miguel.

Miguel answered back, "Hello."

From inside the car Jean loudly said, "Miguel, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is my boyfriend Miguel."

Tommy didn't get out but took his right arm off Jean's shoulder and stuck it out the window signaling he wanted Miguel to shake it. Miguel shook it noticing as he did the anchor tattoo on Tommy's large, muscled forearm. His grip was firm but there was nothing aggressive in the way he shook Miguel's hand. 

After introducing themselves and saying good to meet you, Tommy said, "Thanks Miguel."

Before Miguel could ask thanks for what, Tommy continued, "I appreciate you letting me take Jean out. I'm in the Navy, home on leave. I'm going to Japan in a couple of weeks for three years. This will be my last time to be with an American girl for a long time."

Miguel knew he looked confused and mumbled while eyeballing Jean, "You're welcome. Japan?"

Jean interjected, "I met Tommy early in the week. I told you all about it in a letter. You must not have gotten the letter. I told him you wouldn't mind if I spent his last couple of weeks with him before he goes to Japan."

Miguel felt put on the spot and mumbled, "No, I don't mind. I didn't get the letter." 

Jean said to Tommy, "See I told you he wouldn't mind." She then said to Miguel, "Tommy was nervous about meeting you, but I assured him you were cool with it. Did my phone call surprise you?"

Tommy put his arm back around Jean. She was leaning forward. She seemed very at ease snuggled up to Tommy, his arm lower on her back. 

"It did," he answered.

"His car has a phone in it. Isn't that cool?"

"It is."

She looked at him and said, "I've missed you. Come here and give me a kiss."

He stuck his head into the car and she leaned further across Tommy. He was expecting just a quick peck on the lips with Tommy sitting right there and after their lips touched began to pull away until she said, "A real kiss, Miguel."

So he kissed her again opening his mouth this time and briefly french kissed Jean. It was Miguel thought erotic and uncomfortable.

Tommy didn't say anything, but he moved his right hand under Jean's armpit and cupped her right breast as she and Miguel kissed. Miguel didn't notice what Tommy was doing, but Jean did as he rather roughly rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefingers.

She groaned when their kiss ended telling Miguel, "That was much better, Miguel, wasn't it?"

Miguel answered, "Yes, it was." At that moment it was almost easy to block out Tommy watching them from what could only be a couple of inches separation. Looking at Jean he thought how beautiful she looked. His penis tried to swell and as a result his balls ached, but instead of unwanted pain he found himself eagerly welcoming the discomfort. He looked at her eyes noticing how deeply blue they were but how crowded they looked by her oversized pupils. She looked he thought high. He would come to recognize those dilated pupils as a signal of intense arousal.

Jean smiled and said, "I have a surprise for you and a favor to ask."

Miguel asked, "What is it and what do you need me to do?"

She said, "Look down."

He did, staring straight into Tommy's lap where protruding from it was a large and very erect cock with his girlfirend's hand wrapped around it. He didn't know what to say as he watched Jean pump it.

"What I need you to do Miguel is take the box in the back seat into the house while I say goodbye to Tommy. I also need you to keep my mom busy so she doesn't come outside. Can you do that for me?"

He didn't know why he answered in a whisper but he did, "Jean I can." His eyes were glued on Jean's hand and Tommy's cock. She let him watch for maybe thirty seconds before reminding him he needed to get the box. The way she was looking at him when she said it told him there was no room for negotiation but hinted that he would be rewarded for his obedience later.

He told Tommy goodbye and told Jean he would see her inside later. Tommy mumbled, "See you."

Miguel opened the back door and pulled the box out. Jean warned him to be careful as it contained a sheet cake. With the box in his hands Miguel used his hip to shut the door. He stood there not wanting to leave but Jean was no longer looking at him. In fact, she was now bent over and the only parts visible to Miguel were the top of her head and her back. It was obvious she was now sucking Tommy's cock.

Miguel walked rather quickly back to the house. It turned out to be rather easy to keep Jean's mom distracted as she wanted to see the cake. She inquired once about Jean's whereabouts and appeared satisfied with Miguel's answer that she would be inside in a little while. She did ask if Miguel had met Tommy. Miguel said he had. Her mom then commented about him being a nice man and serving his country and how nice it was of Jean to show him around town before he left in a week. 

Miguel asked, "I thought he was from here?"

She said, "No, his family moved here after he went in the Navy. Jean knows his younger brother from school. That's how she met him. Her brother suggested she would be a good tour guide. He's kind of shy. Isn't he big?"

Miguel's first response was to say, "Yes, his cock is huge," but he suspected that wasn't what she was referring to so he instead said, "He looks tall, but he didn't get out of the car. He has some big hands."

She chuckled, "And big feet. I think he's 6 foot 6. That's his dad's car." Miguel wondered if her comment about big feet and his about big hands made her suspect the appendage between his legs was big too. She added, "They've gone out a few times, seen the tourist places. I told Jean she could see him today, but she needed to pick up the cake as I didn't have time. Tommy's a nice young man. I think she's done with Leo. Now her dad will be off her back and leave the two of you alone."

What she told him about Leo was news to Miguel. As for Tommy being nice Miguel wondered what her opinion of Tommy would be if she knew at that very moment her 'virginal' daughter was doing her best to do a Linda Lovelace on Tommy's organ. He couldn't get over how bold Jean was doing what she did in front of Miguel. It was as though she knew Miguel was ready to take this next step. He wanted to daydream and recreate the entire moment from kissing Jean to staring down at her hand wrapped around Tommy's cock, watching her pump his manhood, but he instead focused on his conversation with Jean's mom.

"I didn't know she quit seeing Leo."

"Yes, he called a few times, but she said she was busy. I figured she went out with him just enough to make her dad happy. Jean said Leo was a godsend as her dad kept insisting she not be exclusive with you. Now he believes you and Jean are serious but not too serious if you know what I mean. He thinks she'll end up like his sisters even though you are nothing like their husbands. He just believes people should do a lot more casual dating instead of only going steady with one person. I told him he needs to keep his nose out of his kids' business, but he doesn't listen to me."

"Has he met Tommy?"

"Oh yes, he loves the military so he's proud of her for going out with Tommy before he ships off. You know he wanted to be in the Marines, but he failed his physical."

"Really, I didn't know that."

"Yes, he had a heart murmur. It turned out to be okay, but back then they wouldn't let you in the military. He's actually very fit."

Miguel thought about the night he heard Jean's dad screwing his wife. He certainly possessed alot of stamina that night, heart murmur or not.

Miguel just listened letting Jean's mom talk. She shared with Miguel how Leo dating Jean kept her awake with worry many nights, 'Leo wouldn't have been good for Jean. He's a machista. He wants his women barefoot and pregnant while he is free to do as he pleases. It was hard seeing Jean, class president, team captain, let Leo lead her around like a puppy on a leash. He would call and she would drop everything. Leo knows how to put on the charm; it just took Jean a while to see he's a nice man, but rather shallow. You're a much better fit for her. From the moment I met you and saw how considerate you were of her I knew the two of you were going to be a couple. I know it was tough on you these past couple of months watching Leo and Jean dating. Now you know you had no reason to worry. Jean going out with Tommy must seem like a walk in the park."

She continued not really looking for a response from Miguel, "Besides going out with Tommy keeps her dad off her back and it's the right thing to do. It's the least she can do to thank him for serving our country."

Miguel wanted to say, "Oh she's thanking him allright," but didn't. Instead of Miguel having to distract Jean's mom it was she distracting him. 

Her mom changed subjects and began to talk about Father G, "I was so upset with my husband I went to Father G to get his help. He sided with Jean's father. When I pointed out their age difference and my fear he might take advantage of her he told me not to worry. Jean was an adult and we had instilled her with morals. I told him that's fine, but there is a difference between theory and reality. I told him I wasn't ready to be a grandmother. He laughed and said, 'No one ever is.' His comment made me mad which he noticed. He said he was only teasing and he would come up with a plan. We then talked about you. He pointed out how close you and Jean are. I told him I wasn't worried about you because you are so respectful of Jean. He said, 'Don't underestimate the power of hormones. Jean's the one you need to worry about. She is a healthy, beautiful, young woman programmed like all women are, to mate. Their dating makes Miguel a prime candidate.' I said, 'I know, and so does her dad, that's why he wanted she and Miguel to be less exclusive. He figured if she casually dates someone there is less chance of anything happening. I think his good intentions have made it worse. She sees Leo more than she sees Miguel."

Miguel absorbed everything Jean's mom said and answered, "I had no idea they had gotten so serious." It wasn't the truth he told her as Jean admitted she had fallen in love with Leo, but he thought it better to play dumb. He continued, "I guess I should feel lucky she's gotten him out of her system."

She said, "You should, but I think it was Father G who helped her get over him. He is the one who suggested she start working at the rectory keeping her evenings and weekends busy. He also said he would talk with the two of you. How did your meeting with him go?"

Miguel hoped he sounded calm when he answered, "It went fine, better than I expected."

She smiled, "Good. He is a nice man."

Miguel did have something he wanted to get off his chest, "This is as good time as any as we're alone but I wanted to thank you for being so supportive all those times I called and Jean wasn't home. You really kept my spirits up."

She actually teared up before wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him to her chest. She was a large breasted woman, a full cup or two cup size larger than Jean and her embrace was so strong he couldn't help but feel those breasts against his chest. He did his best to hug her back. Their embrace left no room between their bodies and her pubis and his penis came into contact. He hoped she didn't misinterpret the steel tube shrouding his penis for the stirrings of an erection. He thought if she did she would be deeply offended, but he also didn't want to draw more attention by backing his hips away from her.

Face to face with her Miguel felt awkward and turned his head to the side. Her mom's grip didn't lessen. There was an urgency in her voice as she told him, "You're welcome. I worried about you too. I knew you really liked Jean, but these past months you really proved your devotion. I also know, in spite of her behavior, how crazy Jean is about you. She never quit talking about you even when she was seeing Leo every day. If you're both talking to Father G I have to assume it's about a future together. Just promise me you won't make me a grandmother any time soon."

Miguel didn't lie but he also didn't fully disclose the truth when he assured her, "I promise I won't."

She relaxed her grip a little, "Father G said he would help make sure you don't."

He looked at her and said, "He did." 

That admission made him very aware of his cage and how it was pressing against her pubis. There was no way he thought as their bodies' lower halves made contact she couldn't feel it.




Chance Encounter Ch. 26



She answered, "Thank you Miguel and I'll have to thank Father G next time I see him." She relaxed her grip and he followed suit. He stepped away from her.

She then said she had one last thing for him to do that she had completely forgotten about. She needed him to make the salad. She pointed him towards the refrigerator and he soon found himself tearing apart lettuce, cutting up tomatoes, and slicing and peeling carrots and cucumbers. He was near the sink and to see the time all he had to do was look up to the clock hanging in the kitchen. It had been he noted a half hour since he came back inside. He wondered what Jean and Tommy were doing. Her boldness surprised him, aroused him, and scared him. In broad daylight in front of her house giving a man a blowjob. Handling the cucumbers made him think of all the big cocks Jean and now he had handled in the past couple of months: Leo, Jose, Father G, and now Tommy. His desire to go down on Jean had gone from strong to overwhelming, but he knew it wouldn't be happening soon.

The phone rang just as Miguel was finishing. Jean's mom answered it. She said she had been keeping Miguel busy, that he had been a huge help, that just about everything she needed was done, and she was going to her room to lay down for a while before showering and getting ready for her company. She put the phone back on the receiver and with a smile told Miguel, "Jean's going to be inside in a few minutes. I'm going to leave the two of you alone as I'm sure you have alot to talk about and don't need me in the way."

She left the ktichen and a few seconds later Miguel heard the door to her bedroom shut very loudly.



Chance Encounter Ch. 27



The departure of Jean's mom to her bedroom made Miguel feel for the first time since he arrived at Jean's house all alone. Even though it wasn't but a minute or two before Jean would walk through the front door he found himself wishing Jean's mom were there when she did. He felt very anxious; his pulse and breathing quickened, his stomach felt tight. 

Standing there in the shorts, t-shirt, and panties Jean provided him, wearing an apron that was he thought rather frilly, Miguel hoped Jean would not see him as ridiculous as he suddenly felt. If he had been a dog he would have been anxiously whining for his master's return. He heard a car door shut, but for some reason couldn't bring himself to peek out the window. The waiting continued for another half minute until he saw the door knob turn followed by the door opening. Jean came in, not the least surprised to see him dutifully standing there. Something told him to not approach her, but to wait. 

Turning away from him ever so briefly she closed the door. She then looked at him from head to toe and smiled before saying, "I see you wore what I laid out for you. I really like the apron on you; that was my mom's idea. "

He asked, "Do you like?"

She approached him and as she hugged him whispered into his ear, "Oh yeah, I definitely like. If we were married I'd ravish you right now, but since we're not you're going to have to ravish me. Where's my mom?"

"In her room. She said she was going to take a nap."

Jean kissed Miguel thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Miguel hugged her thinking how good it felt to have her in his arms. He swore her mouth tasted of cock but instead of repelling him it made him want to kiss her more. They stood there making out for a solid ten minutes.

When they paused, Jean said, "I'm so aroused right now."

Miguel answered, "Me too."

She ground herself against his, "You're wearing it aren't you? I can feel it."

He said, "Yes."

She placed her mouth on his and they began another long french kiss. She continued rubbing herself against him opening her legs and even hiking her dress up until she positioned the metal tube against her sweet spot. He kneaded her buttocks standing there as she humped his caged penis. While he could feel nothing he still felt his desire building; his testicles ached as though they were being yanked on. Jean was breathing hard through her nose as her mouth remained locked to Miguel's. Her grinding became more frenzied as her orgasm built. Suddenly she stiffened, groaning into his mouth.

She pulled her pelvis away from him and her mouth from his, but leaned her head on Miguel's shoulder whispering, "That was so hot. Next time I want us both to be naked."

He whispered, "I'd like that too."

They stood there. She asked how his week and how his ride went, thanked him for helping her mom, told him she had a surprise for him for helping her out, and said they had a lot to talk about but it would have to wait.

"Right now," she said, "we need to help my mom out. You don't mind staying home with me this evening do you instead of going out?"

He did mind; what he wanted to do was go down on his beloved Jean, hear about her sexual exploits, show her his cage, talk about Tommy, find out what was in the letters he hadn't read, and tell her everything that happened with Father G and ask her if what her mom said was true, that she was done with Leo. And he wanted to know if Father G was the man fucking her in the recording he had heard. What he wanted he reminded himself didn't matter; it was what she wanted. He reminded himself he was Jean's rock.

He know he sounded tortured when he answered, "I don't mind. Just as long as I can spend time with you."

He wouldn't know for many hours but his response was exactly the right and only one she wanted to hear.

She suggested they go and sit on the couch and watch t.v. but she wanted to lay down. She asked him to get a blanket from her room which he did. She stood waiting for him and said, "Before you sit down you can take the apron off." He had forgotten he had it on. He didn't know why but her comment about the very frilly apron made him blush. He took it off.

Jean said, "Throw it in the hamper in my room. Then sit down. I want to use your lap as my pillow."

He did as she asked. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch. Together they covered her with the blanket.

She turned on her side and nuzzled her cheek against his cage.

"Turn on the t.v. Miguel." He grabbed the remote and the sound of a college football game filled the room.

"Anything you want to watch Jean?" he asked.

"The channel it's on is fine." She then whispered, "I just want some noise to you know make it harder for my mom to hear us."

He answered, "Oh," wondering what she had in mind. 

She opened her mouth and put her lips around the metal lump in his shorts, "I can't wait to see it. Thanks for doing this for me."

"You're welcome."

"Is it comfortable?"

"So far it is."

"Good. Father said it would take some time for you to get used to it. I want you so bad right now Miguel."

"I want you too Jean."

She turned and lay flat on her back. Looking up at him, she said, "Laying here with the blanket covering me brings back so many memories. Remember how we used to do this when we started dating, me covered up in case my parents came home. Would you pet me?"

He answered her by extending his left arm as she lifted her bottom off the couch hiking her dress up a few inches. He put his hand inside her panties and using his middle finger began located her clitoris and began to slowly massage it.

"Put your finger in me Miguel."

He did. She rolled her hips and soon he had not one but three fingers in her cunt sawing in and out. He used his right hand to massage her clitoris while his left fucked her. She stared up at him and he down at her loving the expression on her face as she got closer and closer to the big O. When she came her body tightened and she dug her nails into the wrist that was strumming her clitoris. 

She signaled for him to stop. He removed his fingers from her vagina pulling her panties back up.

"Thanks Miguel, I needed that." She yawned, "Now I need a little nap. You should take one too. We have a big night ahead of us and I don't want you tired, but before you do, smell your fingers."

He brought them up to his nose and sniffed. They were sticky. He immediately recognized the smell, cum. Tommy had fucked Jean.

He was going to ask her if he could lick them clean when she said, "Put them in my mouth." She cleaned each of his fingers sucking them down to the knuckle, "I don't want any of it to go to waste."

What he remembered most was how much his balls ached at that very moment.

Satisfied they were clean Jean asked him to bend down and kiss her. He did savoring the taste of her juices and Tommy's on her breath. When they finished which was some minutes later, she said, "Now we both need to get some rest. You'll thank me for it later."

She was out within a minute and he within five noting as he drifted off how filled and taxing his day had been.

Jean's mom woke them up several hours later apologizing as she did, "You two need to wake up. My guests will be here in a half hour."

Jean got up and said they both needed to change, but she would go first as she didn't need a shower hinting that all the sweating he had done helping her mom made him need one. She left the room taking the blanket with her. Fifteen minutes later she returned from her bedroom with a different dress on and freshly applied make up and brushed hair. She told Miguel it was his turn, "You can take a shower in my bathroom. Wear the clothes you had on when you saw Father."

He closed the door to her bedroom and entered the bathroom stripping rather hurriedly. He needed to urinate and for the first time since being caged emptied his bladder. Aiming was problematic as he had to line up the tube and his penis and aim his stream through the rather small slit at the top of the cage. He decided it would be less messy if he sat down to urinate. He felt a kinship with the female sex noting he now peed like they did, sitting down.

Shaking his penis wasn't much of an option as urine clung to the cage forcing him to use toilet paper to wipe it dry. 

He got in the shower and realized cleaning his genitals was no longer so simple. He couldn't really clean his penis. Getting out of the shower, toweling off, he noticed on Jean's vanity a sticky note. 

It read, "Miguel, use my blow dryer down there. And don't forget the baby oil I don't want you to chafe." A smiley face one eye winking was how she signed her note.

He did as she suggested. He had never been very conscious of his scrotum but the chain wrapped behind his sac got his attention. His balls seemed swollen, tender. He sensed it would take some time before they got used to being pulled up so high and stretched.

A few minutes later he was dressed and joined Jean and her mom in the kitchen. Jean's mom explained their roles for the evening. He was to do the cooking and serving while Jean and she did the entertaining. It was a long evening but as it turned down an enjoyable one. The ladies all oohed and aahed over him telling him they were jealous of Jean and her mom wishing they had husbands or sons as helpful as Miguel. One even asked in a very joking manner if Miguel did housework. Jean's mom answered saying he did. Another blurted out, "Does he do foot massages?" 

Jean answered, "Yes he does, but only mine," lifting her foot up to emphasize her point. The ladies all burst out laughing reminding Miguel for some reason of a flock of hens.

Waiting on people came naturally for Miguel. Jean was by at least two decades the youngest woman there. After dinner when they began playing cards, their inhibitions lowered by alcohol, the conversations seemed to focus on relationships or sex. It seemed the women weren't much different than the men he knew; they were merely less crude about it. The setting provided them an opportunity to vent about their husbands' shortcomings, selfishness in bed, unwillingness to pitch in with the housework, and generally crass behavior. They teased Jean hoping they weren't scaring her out of marriage but also pointing out how Miguel was so different in a good way than their husbands. They missed being catered to and they longed for the freedoms their husbands seemed to have. As for wanting other men as sexual partners it seemed nearly all, with the exception of Jean's mom, wished for someone famous, good looking, and rich, to park his boots under their bed.

Jean had earlier in the evening told Miguel to wait in her bedroom during those times when the guests didn't need new drinks. With regards to the dirty dishes she didn't want him in the kitchen cleaning while the guests were there; she instead wanted him to quietly clean the plates off and let them soak in the sink. There was a water filled container he could soak the silverware in. The glasses he could empty and leave on the countertop.

It was 1 before the last guest left. The instant she was out the door Miguel started the clean up. Jean's mom looked tired, but in a very good mood. Jean looked buzzed, alert, a bit tipsy, upbeat, and Miguel hoped horny as his arousal had continued climbing throughout the evening. Playing butler and now maid hadn't squelched his sexual longing for Jean but grew it. After one trip to the bathroom he noticed his caged manhood was dripping precum. Being Jean's helper inexplicably turned him on. He didn't know if it was because of the reward he was sure to get for being such a good boyfriend or that being there for her left him awash in endorphins.



Chance Encounter Ch. 28



I want to thank the readers I have for their encouragement and feedback. Writing is hard work and erotic storytelling even tougher as those who don't like the theme seem incapable of skipping over stories they don't find arousing. The ultimate goals of my writing are to entertain, pique one's interest, and arouse as that's what erotica is all about. So if you like cuckold, femdom, male subs, and breeding, enjoy!





While Miguel cleaned up, Jean and her mom sat on the couch and discussed how well the evening went. Loud enough for Miguel to hear her mom thanked Jean for lending her Miguel as without his help she would have been too exhausted doing everything by herself. She added how the ladies had nothing but praise for Miguel and how a manservant was a great idea, especially one who didn't hover. It was as though he was invisible to her guests, unless needed. Like an apparition he appeared and just as quickly disappeared.

It was close to 2 before Miguel finished cleaning up. He was in the middle of scrubbing the sink clean when Jean came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him whispering into his ear, her breath warm, as she pressed her breasts against him, "Thanks. After you finish with the sink I have a surprise for you. Where's the key Father G gave you?"

He whispered back, worried Jean's mom might hear, "On my key ring in your room."

She said, "Good. I'll be back in a minute. After you're done, go to my room and take a shower. "

He started to say something but she put her finger against his lips and said, "Shhh. No questions. Just do as I asked." She then whispered, "I love you," before unwrapping her arms from around him. 

His exhaustion from what had been a very long and demanding day vanished. Helping with the party had prevented him from analyzing the day's events and there had been no opportunity to discuss with Jean what he had experienced and its effect on him. He focused his energy on the last grey mark in the sink, scrubbing it away. Done, he rinsed the sponge out.

He didn't glance towards the living room, but headed to Jean's bedroom where he quickly stripped. He briefly studied himself in the bathroom mirror admiring the steel cage imprisoning his penis. Before showering he sat on the toilet sea and urinated concluding it was easier than trying to align his urethra with the slit at the end of his cage.

He quickly showered, toweled off, used the blowdryer again on his genitals, and noticed on the bathroom vanity a note from Jean next to a small glass bottle. It read, "For my jewels."

He opened the bottle, peered in, and poured a little onto his finger. Its smell and texture he recognized as the chrism oil Father G had suggested he use to prevent chafing. Comprised mainly of olive oil he detected other ingredients, lavender, frankincense, myrrh, and a hint of eucalyptus. He applied it to the base of the cage where it made contact with the base of his penis and his pubis. Then he applied it to his testicles which no longer hung. The leather covered chain wrapped around the backside of his scrotum he paid particular attention to lubricating as that was where the risk of chafing was greatest. His testicles were very pronounced, one on each side of the metal shaft. He oiled them, noting how sensitive they were and how good it felt to massage the oil into them.

He capped the bottle, washed his fingers, appreciating Jean's kind gesture, wrapped a towel around his waist and exited the bathroom, unsure of what to expect as he entered Jean's bedroom.

The room was dark.

"Turn off the bathroom light," he heard Jean say, "and come here."

He did suppressing the need to ask, "What about your mom?"

Halfway to her bed, Jean turned on her nighstand lamp. At the edge of the bed, she was on her side under the covers.

As he approached the bed she threw the covers off of her revealing herself to him in all her naked glory. She had never looked so beautiful he thought. Her eyes seemed to be a darker blue and her hair almost black, but it was her body he found most beautiful. He didn't know if it was the pose but she reminded him of a painting of a 17th century courtesan in an art gallery by a painter he couldn't remember of a woman lounging in bed, her body lush, fecund, womanly, and inviting. 

He got to the side of the bed and stood there. While he wasn't musclebound he had muscle and he was so lean his abdomen was well defined. He had a nice chest and good arms and legs even if they were never going to push huge amounts of weight. He possessed little body hair and probably never would. Save for his undersized manhood which wasn't ugly he knew he was visually pleasing to Jean's eye.

She whispered, "I like the cage. Seeing you in it is makes me very wet."

He answered, "I like it too. And I'm glad it arouses you."

She asked him if he liked what he saw.

He answered, "More than you'll ever know."

She reached out and grabbed the metal shaft, then ran her nails across his testicles sending shivers up his spine.

"I see you used the oil I left for you. I wouldn't want my jewels to get damaged." She cupped his scrotum, giving it a gentle squeeze commenting, "And these are mine aren't they?"

He answered, "They are."

She reached over, stretching, her left breast, bruised from her lovers' bites and hands, the nipple distended, making him hunger to suckle at it, and turned off the lamp.

"Join me," she said.

He climbed into the bed as she scooted to the other side. In the dark, on their sides facing each other they began to kiss each telling the other how much they were missed. In between kisses Jean implored Miguel to make love to her.

He took charge working his way slowly down her body. Using his mouth and fingers he began at her ears, down her neck,, then her shoulders, followed by minutes on each breast, making her squirm, pant, and moan, increasing her desire, then licking and kissing his way down her abdomen, dipping his tongue into her navel, positioning his body between her thighs, before pressing his face to the wetness between her open thighs.

Hours earlier she would have tasted of Tommy, but now all he smelled and tasted was Jean's myrrh. He lapped, nibbled, probed, fingered, and flicked her entire sex, marveling at how her arousal opened her, but how tight she could squeeze his fingers as he used them to fuck her while he licked her. With his other hand he reached up and pulled and twisted her nipples, alternating between each breast. He was driving her crazy and loving it. He was turning her into a bitch in heat, wanting to cum.

But he wouldn't let her, choosing to torment her as his cage tormented him. His penis filled the cage, unable to fully expand. His scrotum felt the size of a large orange, swollen with cum he so badly wanted to release.

She begged him to quit tormenting her and to allow her to climax, but he ignored her, until she couldn't take being passive anymore, at which time she grabbed his head and ground herself against him as he licked her. Taking one hand off his head, grabbing a pillow she pressed it against her mouth, to muffle her scream and orgasmed.

Knowing how sensitive she was immediately following an orgasm he backed away resting his head on her thigh. Both of them were breathing heavy, hers the result of a climax and his the pent up arousal he desperately wanted to satiate, but couldn't. So unyielding was the metal cage his blood engorged penis was unable to fully distend. It was as though his manhood was in a vice, but the pressure on it wasn't from outside, but from within. Without the cage he would have climaxed while eating Jean. His penis throbbed, but was incapable of contracting and releasing his seed. His balls felt paintfully full.

Jean was enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm. She always enjoyed cunnilingus from Miguel, but it was ten times more intense when they reconnected after she had been with another man. His tongue she thought washed away her sexual indiscretions, like Jesus washed away mankind's sins. Jesus suffered for man and Miguel was suffering for her.

She broke the silence telling Miguel, "That was the best. Your tongue should have a patent."

Miguel answered beaming with pride, 'Thanks. I really get turned on eating you."

Jean said, "I can tell. You're like an artist and my pussy is your canvas. After that performance I think we have the wrong organ caged."

He laughed at her quip.

She yawned, "Come here baby and lay on top of me."

He did, his caged manhood resting against her vulva. 

She encouraged him, "It's okay if you go in me."

He thrust into her going only as deep as the cage was long. 

She shivered as he entered her, "It's cold."

He apologized, "Sorry. Should I take it out."

She insisted, "No. Leave it in. It'll warm up."

He started to move his hips back and forth wondering if his Steely Dan would give her any pleasure.

She stopped him wrapping her legs around him then locking her ankles together, "No thrusting. Now kiss me."

She kissed him. He kissed her back. The kiss wasn't rushed, just a slow duelling of tongues. When it ended, she said, "I wish you could fuck me."

"Me too," he answered before adding, "You have the key. You can release me. After we're done I'll put it back on."

She said, "Believe me. There is nothing more I would like more than to have you in me without the cage, but you know we can't. Not until after I get pregnant and we're married. Then, no more cages, no more gloves, you can have me whenever you want. Besides, my mom has the key."

Miguel didn't mean to be her answer alarmed and embarrassed him. Louder than he meant to be he asked, "Your mom?"

She said, "Shhh, keep your voice down. Yes, my mom. How else do you think she agreed to have you spend the night with me in the same bed? She knows we're fooling around, but she also knows we're not doing it. It's her way of thanking you for helping her out and to let you know she wants you as a son."

He lowered his voice to a whisper and asked, "How did she find out?" He felt embarrassed knowing she knew, but now her hug earlier in the day made sense. It hasn't been his imagination; she had purposely pressed her crotch to his wanting proof he was wearing the cage.

Jean answered, "We have the same priest. She's more worried than my dad about me getting pregnant."

Miguel said, "Does she know you want to get pregnant?"

"She does, but we haven't really discussed it. She thinks I want to get pregnant with you so Father G suggested the cage to make sure you don't get me pregnant. She's still worried about Leo seducing me, but she doesn't know how to stop the two of us from seeing each other as my dad keeps pushing us together."

She then added in a somewhat mysterious tone, "Deep down, I think my dad wants Leo to knock me up."

He asked, "What makes you think that? I thought he wants you to finish school."

She said, "He does, but it's a macho thing. I think he's living out a fantasy. He wishes he were a stud like Leo hopping from bed to bed, but he's not. Instead, he's a one woman man."

"I don't know. That's a crazy fantasy. I just think he likes Leo more than me." He changed subjects not really wanting to probe further because Jean's suspicion seemed so implausible. He asked, "How does, what's his name, Tommy, figure into all this?"

She smiled, "Father G introduced us. I really like him."

Her answer stung, not so much how they met, but how quickly she admitted her attraction to him. He made sure to keep the jealousy out of his voice when he commented, "I could tell. I can't believe you gave him a blowjob in broad daylight in front of your house."

She chuckled, "I can't either, but that's not all we did in front of my house."

"Did he fuck you?" Miguel asked.

"Right before I came inside. For the third time today."

Miguel didn't know what to say. He felt pulled in two completely different directions. It was painful knowing how hard he had labored all day, getting up early, making the long drive, meeting with Father G, being formally introduced to his role as Jean's cuckold, wearing the cage, working from the time he got to Jean's house until 2 a.m., unable to climax, he saw no reward, just the lash of betrayal. 

Jean sensed his mood changing from happy to foul and took action to get him back on track, eager to submit, to embrace being her cuckold. Father G had discussed with her at length how to deal with what he called crises of confidence, when a cuckold was torn between rejecting or accepting being a cuckold. Father G cautioned her rejecting didn't mean Miguel would no longer be a cuckcold; it just meant even if he and Jean split up and he found another woman, that relationship would eventually evolve into one of a cuckold and his queen. Biology he asserted always trumped social norms. Miguel might suppress his true self for years, even decades, but eventually who he is would come out.

Jean asked Father G if biology played such a major role in the relationship's hierarchy, not to mention its sexual dynamic, why would cuckolds have these crises. To her it made no sense as the more a queen asserted her dominance the more a cuckold would embrace it. He would be happier, not full of doubt, angry, withdrawn.

Father answered it was due to social norms placing greater pressure on the cuckold to conform to what it expected in a typical male female relationship. He pointed out it was actually easier for a woman to become true to her nature, especially after the sexual revolution of the 60s, and embrace being a queen because deep down her parents, especially her father, wanted their daughters to be strong. Men had no such out.

She pointed out how her dad seemed to be looking for a man to break her which is why he kept pushing Leo on her.

Father didn't think it was true. He believed Jean's dad was merely using Leo to make her stronger.If she could refuse to submit to a man like Leo, handsome, charismatic, muscular, and sexually gifted she would never be second to any man.

Father's insight floored Jean because she believed her dad was doing just the opposite because he didn't approve of her strength which he described as bossiness.

Father said, "You have it wrong. He wants all of his children to be strong, especially his daughter. Think of him as another coach taking you to the next level by pushing you hard. You're Miguel's coach now. You said his parents have an interesting marriage, that his dad caters to his mom, that she is very independent. Perhaps you can make use of their marriage; use it as an example for Miguel to emulate. Point out to him how happy his father is submitting to Miguel's mom. I bet if we dug slightly below the surface of their marriage we would find something really interesting."

She had shrugged off Father's last statement as overreach. Without knowing them he was reaching a conclusion. She didn't know them real well, but other than being a very devoted husband who did everything around the house she didn't think there marriage was anything but vanilla. She did decide, however, to take Father G's advice because he was her coach and counselor. She would make it a point for the two of them to spend more time at Miguel's house to see if Father G was onto something.

She looked up at Miguel who was looking back, but not really seeing her. His mind she knew was elsewhere, his thoughts dark. Putting her hand under her left breast she offered it up for him to suckle.

"Miguel," she coo'd, "my tit wants you." 

Her words momentarily forced him to stop thinking if only for a moment about the despair he was feeling.

He lowered his head, opened his mouth wide, and latched onto Jean's breast. Instead of lessening her arousal, she found it increasing as she worked to help Miguel through his funk and become an even more accepting cuckold. She needed him docile, listening, not being introspective and second guessing himself.

"That's it. Suck it. Your tongue feels so good." She ran her fingers through his hair caressing his scalp. She used her legs to keep him clasped to her.

She let him suck on her left breast for a good five minutes before telling him to shift his attention to her right. She continued stroking his scalp telling him at one point he needed a haircut and she would take him. She purposely mothered him, although her intent was not to make him into a mama's boy, but to relax him. 

Sensing he was sufficiently relaxed she began her monologue, not wanting him to speak, but to listen.

"I'm so in love with you right now Miguel. And I know you love me too. You don't have to say anything. Just keep sucking my breast. I appreciate your sacrifices so much. Wearing that cage is just the latest sacrifice you've made for me, for us. You've allowed me to be completely sexually and emotionally fulfilled. You really understand and accept me. What another man might find crazy you accept and support. You've fulfilled so many of my dreams by making them yours. I have only two left and I know you're going to help me reach them because that's the kind of man you are, a loving, supportive cuckold. Don't say anything. You know I'm right. You love being my cuckold. We both know it. Tomorrow you're going to be there encouraging me as I attain one of those dreams, getting pregnant as I orgasm during intercourse, a gift you are giving to me through others. And after I'm pregnant you are going to fulfill my second remaining dream by marrying me."

She continued, "After we marry the dreams won't end. I'll have new ones and I know you'll be there making it possible for me to reach them. What we're doing now I know is hardest on you and easy for me, but you have to trust me and to trust Father G. The sacrifices you are making today for us you'll look back on and cherish, not regret. What we have will get easier after we marry and are living on our own. I know you want to climax in me, but understand the urge you are feeling is primal, illogical and at odds with your true nature.

Nod your head if you agree these past few months have been the most sexually satisfying of your life."

Miguel continued to suck but nodded, suppressing what she swore was a groan. Her strategy was working.She was pulling him out of his funk.

"You're as aroused as I am for me to go on dates, for other men to have their way with me sexually, to fuck me, and to try and make a baby with me. That cage prevents you from acting on your primal urges, to replace their seed with your own. Deep down you don't want that urge to win because it is opposite of what fulfills you emotionally and sexually, being a cuckold. We both know you can't be a true cuckold if you get me pregnant. Can you?"

He nodded his head side to side. She interpreted his response as no meaning he agreed with her. She figured if he disagreed he would have ceased sucking and spoke up, but he instead was doing just the opposite, sucking harder. He groaned again a positive sign her words were having on him. He was she sensed getting sexually aroused. Poor cuck she thought as she knew how frustrating it had to be as his arousal grew with no release in sight.

She continued, "I understand your frustration too because I experienced it, wanting to orgasm as you fucked me, angry and feeling cheated that you couldn't replicate with your penis the wonderful orgasms you gave me with your mouth. Sometimes I resented you Miguel, but I loved you so much. I even found myself blaming you, but I was wrong. It wasn't your fault, but mine. You were doing the best you could, but sometimes one's best isn't good enough. Then God brought Leo into our life, then Jose, and now Tommy. I realized I can experience the bliss the nuns spoke of when I was a young girl."

She was on a roll and getting wetter with each word, "We were at a crossroads Miguel. Those men bring me total sexual satisfaction, but emotionally they leave me wanting, forced to be passive, to cede to their authority when my nature tells me I want to be in charge. I'm a strong woman Miguel and you love my strength. You've encouraged me to be the decisionmaker, haven't you?"




Chance Encounter Ch. 28



Another groan and nod up and down from Miguel. At that moment she thought he never looked cuter.

"It's been that way since we met. I've made the decisions and you accepted them. From the movies we saw to where we ate, but most importantly to the way we express love physically. You didn't fight me as I controlled what you and I did sexually. You didn't because my controlling it excited you. Whether sucking my toes to eating me to licking up your own cum you craved it more when I told you to do it. Just like you crave it now when other men fuck me don't you?"

She swore the groan he emitted sounded like he was climaxing. Given his caged manhood was buried to its two maybe three inch hilt she felt relieved knowing he couldn't climax into her very fertile pussy. She was certain Tommy and she had already conceived, but she aimed to use the remaining days he was in town, especially on Sunday with Miguel nearby, to make sure.

Still she didn't want to risk Miguel accidentally impregnating her. He had climaxed many times without direct stimulation and if she were already pregnant she wouldn't have minded arousing him even further to the point his caged penis dribbled out what had to be a very frustrating climax void of penile contractions.

"And you want them to fuck me so you can eat me don't you? You want to prove you can make me feel as good with your mouth as they do with their cocks, but you and I know you can't. What I feel from them and from you is different.Both are great and both I need. And since I've orgasmed on Tommy's cock three times today and only twice with your mouth and fingers you owe me a third."

With that she placed a hand on each of his shoulders, unclasped her ankles, opened her legs wide and pushed. This time he didn't slowly kiss his way down her torso, but buried his face in her warm, soft, wet, flesh. She wondered if she had been close to experiencing what Miguel did as her clitoris was literally throbbing. She was thankful he didn't attack it, but her vagina, with his tongue as she reallly wanted another thorough lengthy licking.

Miguel didn't let her down. When he finished taking her to the top of that mountain his own exhaustion overrode his denied sexual arousal. In Jean's arms laying face to face he fell asleep as she praised his talented mouth and undying devotion.



Chance Encounter Changes Everything



My 1st story, so please keep that in perspective. Hopefully I am not too chatty or informative at 1st, but I would like to lay out the true context of the situation - before I get to the hot stuff. I trust others have been in a similar situation.

I write about an encounter, and the incredible, subsequent event that took place. This was a complete chance encounter. Several years ago, at the time of my encounter, I lived in an area void of social meeting places. You know, meeting places for gay males. There were obviously bars and other modest venues for nightlife, but nothing for gay or lesbian individuals. Of course with this having been several years ago, this time period in which I speak was just prior to the internet explosion, and certainly prior to social media of any kind. This was sort of frustrating to me as a young twenty-something male. Regardless of how hot and horny I ever found myself, I was also totally oblivious of the fact that there was such a thing as cruising. Yeah, you could say that I was a late bloomer. Unless situated with a perfect opportunity, I did not know how to go about getting cock on demand. 

Now to the story...my job at the time required some travel. Typically the travel required the use of a rental car. I would rent cars to make my typical day trip. The rental car location was near my house, approximately 5 miles away. It was a satellite location, as the main branch was in a bigger city about 45 miles away. This will prove to be a crucial part of the encounter. Anyway, the encounter happened one day as I returned my rental car. I returned home from my trip a couple of hours earlier than normal, and had plenty of time to get back to the rental place before it closed. So I decide to go home 1st and I changed my clothes. I believe it was a Thursday evening - just before closing - around 6:00 pm - when I eventually returned the car. Typically there was only one agent at this remote site, but as I was soon to find out, there were days when there would be more than one agent. On the evening I returned my car, there was only one. 

His name was Jimmy. He was an African American, who I pegged to be around 30 years old. A couple of inches taller than me - say around 6 foot, very well built, around 190. This age being my best guess considering I was 27 at the time. Jimmy was nice, and somewhat chatty. I thought nothing of it at the time. As we worked through the paperwork and the return process, at one point he asked me if I were seeing anyone. Now this certainly caught my attention. 

As I could feel the excitement run through my body, I answered something to the affect of, "No - not around here - pretty tough to meet people." 

With me being a somewhat athletic, in great shape and having somewhat of a darker complexion for a blonde white male, I would occasionally get "vibes" from African American gay males, but was always way too shy to follow up or keep the encounters going. Having a bubble butt and flat stomach also did wonders for getting similar attention from females, but of course I typically blew it off as I was not interested in females. I did have the occasional gay experience, but the experiences never lived up to my fantasies. This particular question from Jimmy was a lot more blatant and bold than what I was used to. Already in the mode of being ready to explode with sexual frustration, I was determined to not let this opportunity be missed, as I allowed other subtle ones in the past to be missed. 

I would often think about other encounters after the fact and realize that my timid nature, or my shy nature, allowed me to miss out on the very few opportunities where I lived. I was attracted to Jimmy, although this was the 1st time I had met him or seen him at the rental location. Apparently he had seen me a couple of other times - on those rare occasions where there would be two agents. Of course I had not seen him.

So getting back to the question he asked and my response. 

He promptly laughed and said, "I could imagine that being around here is tough for someone like you." 

He also mentioned that there were many "things" to do where he was from. Sounding a bit like a hot invitation, I asked him if he had to work the following day, which of course would have been Friday. 

He said, "I have to work tomorrow, and unfortunately, I have to be here at 7:00 am Saturday morning as well." 

I countered with, "Sucks - you have to get up so early to make this trip down here." 

At that moment I became even more bold and told him he could crash at my place Friday night, being it was only 5 miles away. I immediately turned around (wearing a pair of my hottest, tight fitting jeans) and looked out the window as he stood behind the small desk. If I were not already 100% certain that he wanted a piece of my White twink-ass, I certainly was when I turned around and saw a slight bulge in his nice pair of slacks. His answer was basically Yes and that would be cool, and "very helpful". So I left there Thursday evening with a hard on and an idea of how to lay out my "trap". I was going to seduce him, so I thought. 

We had made plans for to me to come to the rental location Friday evening at closing time. Before taking the short jaunt back to my place, we stopped and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Afterwards, and before going back to my place for the evening, I asked him if he wanted to stop and get something to drink. I had got some wine on Thursday evening in anticipation for Friday night, but thought I should ask him. 

He said, "Yeah, I could go for a bottle of wine." 

I laughed and said, "Cool, then we will have 2 bottles, as I have one at home." 

We arrived at my place and just chilled and started on the wine. A lot of small talk, and at least another 2 or 3 times of Jimmy asking me if I were seeing anyone. 

I continued to insist that I wasn't, but on the final time he asked, I added that, "No, as I have told you, I am not." 

With an innocent, yet enticing giggle, I added, "Actually, to be totally honest with you, I am seeing you. You are here, no?" 

With that Jimmy replied, "Yep, I guess so."

I continued to think about how I was going to make my move, who between us would actually make the 1st move, and so on. Obviously Jimmy was not as shy as me, as he initiated all of the initial contact the day before, but it was becoming more obvious to me that he too was a bit shy and wasn't clear on how to make a move. 

After an hour or 2 of wine tasting and small talk, I finalized my plan in my head. I just needed the right time to execute it, and the exact time finally came. Jimmy got up and told me he had to use the restroom - laughing that the wine had finally run it's course. I knew that the time had come, and I had a throbbing erection at this time. To help me fulfill my plan, so there would be no doubt, no turning back, I grabbed the small bottle of poppers that I had strategically placed on the table next to the sofa. As Jimmy stepped into the restroom, I inhaled as much as I could and immediately felt all of my inhibitions release from my body. As this was in the middle of summer, I stripped out of my stoned- washed cut-off jeans, my tight fitting briefs, and my tee shirt. Only wearing bright white socks that looked nice with my increased summer time tan, I knew there was no turning back. I distributed the clothing along the path that Jimmy would take coming back from the bathroom. 

As I sit back on the sofa stroking my massive erection, I could see Jimmy emerge from the hallway. He could only see me from the shoulders up, as my breakfast nook stood in the way of his location and the sofa. 

I saw him bend down and pick up the tee shirt, then the cut-offs. 

At that time he said, "Wow, this looks good."

Then a few more steps and he picks up the briefs and proclaimed, "Now this is getting better and better with every step." 

At that time he emerged from around the breakfast nook and immediately grabbed at what was now his massive erection. He sat down next to me on the sofa, still clothed in his shorts, tank top and briefs. 

As he sat down next to me, he placed his hand on my upper thigh and began stroking it above and below. We turned to each other and shared a passionate kiss. 

I said, "Glad you came?" 

I continued, "I sure am glad you asked me if I were seeing anyone. That told me everything I needed to know." 

I started removing his shorts and with my other free hand, I started lifting his shirt. He gladly helped, and before too much longer we were both naked on my sofa. His cock was at least 9 inches and as thick as any I had ever seen in person. I immediately went down on him and began sucking his nice cock. As I was not a complete virgin, I did have to use every ounce of my sexual instincts and pent up energy to handle this cock. I licked his balls as he played with my full head of blonde hair. 

He leaned over to try and eat my ass, so at that time I decided to get into a 69 position and let him lick and eat my hot ass as I worked on that nice piece of meat. 

Not too much time had passed when I swung around and asked, "Are you going to fuck me?" 

Jimmy said, "Yeah, climb up on this hard cock and I will show you exactly why I am here." 

With that I reached over to where I had stashed the poppers and grabbed a small bottle of water-based lube. 

He asked me if I had a condom, and I replied, "No - I guess you'll have to pull out and shoot your load wherever you feel like shooting it, with my mouth being a nice place." 

He also asked me if I was sure that I wanted to sit on him. I told him that was the best position for me to get comfortable with his cock being in my ass. He stuck his cock in my ass and I immediately felt like I had to piss. It had been a while since I had gone to take a piss, so I obviously had some built up in me. 

It was the best feeling I ever had as his hard cock ass fucked me. I had to grab and pinch my cock as not to piss on him. I had been ass fucked before, but not like this, and certainly not while I had this sensation of having to pee. After a few minutes of riding him like a horse, I jumped off and got on all fours, essentially exposing my hot, hard bubble butt. He immediately stuck his cock in my ass and started fucking, nice and slow, nice and steady. He reached around several times to stroke my cock, and at one point I told him not to because I was ready to blow. I wasn't ready for this to end.

I spun around and laid on the sofa, having put a pillow under the small of my back. I raised my legs in the air, my feet covered by my white socks. 

I asked, "Do you like fucking boys like they are girls?"

He replied, "I am about to show you." 

He began fucking me missionary as he grasped my ankles. At this point my cock was not 100% hard. I was able to grasp it and pinch off the feeling I had that I was going to pee. After about 5 minutes of this I could not take anymore and began to piss on myself. Shortly thereafter, I starting cumming and shot a nice load up on my chin and on the side of my face. Jimmy, while still fucking me, leaned forward and began licking my face and chin. 

We exchanged a passionate kiss and began French kissing. I could taste my cum and proceeded to suck it all out of his mouth. At this point my ass was so tight he could barely fuck me. He pulled out and asked me if I was ready to officially become his cum slut. I told him to shoot his load on me, so with that he pulled out of my tight ass and made his way toward my willing face. He shot his load all over my mouth and we again French kissed as I could taste his cum. 

We lay kissing and then I decided to treat him to some ass licking of my own. After 15 minutes of working his ass with my tongue, we both became hard again and this time I laid my head on the floor with my ass resting against the sofa. He again fucked me missionary while standing and squatting down. Just then my phone rang and it was a chick that I knew from the area. She sounded drunk and said on the answering machine that she wanted to fuck me. 

With that Jimmy said, "Too damn late sweetheart, I am fucking him and he's now my little blonde cum slut." 

Jimmy then pulled out and shot a modest load on my face. 

The next morning Jimmy begrudgingly went off to work. In the days and months that followed, I let Jimmy fuck me where, when, and how he wanted - including in front of his friends and my friends. We had some nice threesomes, and even a few gang-bangs. Needless to say, this initial experience with Jimmy was the end of my shyness issue, and I never again struggled to find cock anywhere that I have lived.



Chance Encounter - Day 01



I was called for an interview in another state, it was about 1000 miles from my current working and residing place so had to make reservations on a train. About me then I was around 36 years, 5'9" and good physique. I reached a day before the scheduled date and lodged in modest motel. The interview was scheduled to be at 10:00 AM and it was 09:55 AM when I reached the office where the interview was to be scheduled.

I met the interview coordinator of the company and was asked to wait in the waiting. So I just sat waiting and read a few magazines which were kept on the table in the waiting area. The coordinator came and said as two members of the interviewer panel were busy in a meeting with some of the officials from the head office of the company I was to wait fro about two hours. I told him it's not an issue to worry about.

At around 11:00 a girl around 25 years walked in the waiting area with the coordinator and sat opposite to me. I glanced at her, she was of Asian origin and about 5'3" neither petite nor plump with a round face common looking face and full red lips, I would say she was about right size everywhere in the body with a 32 D cup (which I came to know about later). I just looked at her and she smiled and I also smiled back and then I got back to the magazine I was reading. She was wearing a lip gloss for makeup and was wearing a black formal trouser and light blue shirt and black platforms.

As I sat reading I saw a glimpse of white on her shirt so I focused on her and saw that her shirt button was open and was hanging to a strand of blue string but she had no idea about it and I could see a portion of her breast encased in white bra. I was in a dilemma what to say to her and then she suddenly caught my eye as I was looking at her face, I just pointed at her shirt and then sat gazing at the book I was reading.

She fidgeted as she saw her button hanging loose with just a strand of string holding and her white bra visible. I looked at her and she was almost in tears at her predicament, I felt even if she could restrain her shirt with a safety pin it will be a wrong impression in the interview, I felt sorry for her so I motioned her to bring her chair near mine as we were sitting around a round table and asked her if her home was around, she told me it was not and she had arrived from a neighboring city which was around 80 miles for the interview.

I asked whether she had a safety pin in her bag she said yes but she would not dare to pin it up in the interview. I nodded in affirmation then I had an idea I asked her to give me her button and the loose strand of string. She saw me in surprise and then she gave me what I asked for.

Luckily it was just a two hole button so I slowly made a loop with blue string in the button and with a few loops it was as if it could withstand a bit of strain, so I asked her to go in a wash room and use safety pin to fix the button in its place. She gladly took my advice and when she came back from she was grinning ear to ear and was profusely thanking me for my help.

I was a bit embraced and I said its nothing worth mentioning about and so we exchanged our names and sat chatting and after a while she asked me asked me about my family that is wife specifically, clearly she was a chatter box. I told about my wife and son and she was soon comfortable with me and she also told about her parents and her family.

After a while the coordinator came and apologetically said that the meeting is still going on and the interviewer panel may not be free until late in the evening, so the interview is re-scheduled after one day as they had off the next day. I had not done my returning ticket so I was not worried about the lapse of time but this was really an unfortunate development.

She was clearly uncomfortable about the re-arrangement but then she unconsciously clutched her pinned button she relaxed a bit. I thanked the coordinator and began walking out of the office when I heard her call my name. I turn around and she joined me and we both walked out talking. She asked me where I was staying, I told her the name of the motel where I was staying, and she told me that she could go back but she would have to return back the next evening for the interview, so she was thinking of putting up in the same motel as I was staying. I was thinking something else so I just shrugged and we walked back to my motel which was within 10 minutes walk from the place.

We got to the motel and she registered in the room next to mine. She went into her room and I went into mine and I freshened up as I had sat in the office for around 4 hours. After half an hour as I was sitting in shorts and t-shirt, my door bell rang when I opened she was standing outside wearing a t-shirt and flannel pajama, I called her in, she came in and sat on the bed and motioned me to sit on the bed too. She was chattering away when suddenly she asked me if I was into smoking and drinking.

I was taken aback but I told her truth that I did smoke but I did not drink. So she asked me if she could have a smoke too. I took the pack and lighter from the side drawer and handed a cigarette to her and held one between my lips. Then we sat smoking and she was just chatting away with occasionally me speaking. Then suddenly she said that she always had a dream of marrying a prince of her dreams but today she has met the man of her dreams in me. I just sat with my mouth open she looked in my eyes and said it was true as I was a caring person and my wife was very lucky.

Then she kept her hand on my thigh and asked if she could kiss me, and with that she very tenderly let her lips graze on my lips. I sat shocked with my mouth open and she opened her lips and her tongue was slowly licking my lower lip before I held her at an arm's length. She opened her misty eyes to look into mine and she let out a no contented moan and just said please make love to me just once. I was at loss of words and she kissed me once again melting in my arms her lips opened and took my lower lip between them and sucked it tenderly and she leaned on me as she came over me as I slowly went down in lying position.

She just lie down on me her breasts heaving on my chest as she sucked my lower lips, then I held her my hands caressing on her back then she opened her mouth and let her tongue slide in my open mouth, our tongues twirling against each other, my hands slowly went down to her bums and started caressing them. Now our breaths were coming in gasps as the heat rose in our bodies. She let out a gasp as I slowly slid my hands inside her pajamas and started cupping and caressing them from above her panty. She was slowly grinding her pelvis against mine and my dick was hard now in my shorts and we both were kissing feverishly our breaths coming in gasps and our heart beats racing hard in our heaving chests.

Then she broke the kiss and sat on top of me and started to take off her t-shirt, I held her hand and whispered that it was my job and she smiled a very seductively. I got up and now she was sitting on my lap with legs wrapped around my waist and I held her t-shirt and slowly pulled it over her head, she also took off my t-shirt and then she sat in my lap with a sports bra on and I was naked waist up, she was still grinding her pelvis against my hard dick. I then kissed her face then licked her lips and pulled her close to me with her chest heaving against mine then I kissed her earlobes and then held it between my lips and started to suck it.

She held my head with trembling hands as I sucked her earlobe and was slowly caressing my hair, then I slowly traced my tongue on her neck to her shoulder blade and my hands were caressing her back. She let out a moan and dug her nails in my back slowly I traced my tongue onto her cleavage and my hands dropped to her bums to hold them and raise her as I licked her bra clad breasts. She shuddered as my tongue snaked on her exposed skin.

Then slowly I let her down on my lap and held her bra and slowly slid it above her breasts, she raised her hands as I took it off and let it drop on the bed. Her breasts were soft and tender and she had small light brown nipples. Then she leaned onto me, her exposed breasts heaving against my naked chest, she tenderly rubbed her hand on my chest and her index finger playing with my nipple. Then I caught her by her bums and raised her so that her boobs were in front of my mouth and I slowly flicked my tongue on her breast avoiding any contact with her nipple, she was moaning her breath coming in gasps as I continued to flick my tongue on both of her breasts one by one staying clear from her nipples. Her nipples were hard now then I slowly rubbed my tongue on her nipple she caught my head with my hair and let out a loud moan as she pressed my head to her breast.

I took her nipple in my mouth and sucked it and she pressed my head forcing my mouth to open and take her breast in my mouth. I rolled my tongue all around her areola while sucking her nipple; she was moaning and squirming on my lap and her pussy was grinding on my hard dick. Then I slowly lowered her down on the bed and came between her legs and her right thigh was between my legs and continued sucking her breasts alternately and when I was sucking one nipple I was caressing and fondling the other breast and I was slowly bucking my hips rubbing it on her thigh. She was squirming and moaning as I was sucking and fondling her breasts and rubbing my dick on her pajama clad thigh.

Then I slowly traced my tongue to her belly and licked all around her belly button while my hands were beneath her bums caressing and fondling them. Then I rolled my tongue in her belly poking the tip of my tongue in her belly button, she held my head forced it down squirming and wriggling her bums underneath me. I slowly traced my tongue to her pajama lining and slowly pulled it down with my hands and took it off her legs as she raised her bums.

Then I came between her legs and bent down and blew air on her panty clad pussy she squirmed and closed her eyes as I bent down and gently traced my tongue on her pussy mound from above her panty. She held my head and a loud moan escaped as I opened my mouth and gently took her pussy mound between my teeth and applied a bit of pressure on it with my teeth. Then I held her panty lining between my teeth and pulled it down and she raised her bums to let me take off her panty she was then totally naked and I could see her slightly pink and shaved pussy, her pussy lips glistened with her juices.

I admired her pussy for a few moments and then blew air from my mouth on her exposed pussy, she moaned with pleasure and held my head tight with her hands and encased my head between her thighs. Then I flicked my tongue on her clit and she let out a loud moan and held my head tight, then I tenderly licked all around her pussy lips and then I took her small cilt between my lips and pressed it a few times, I was surprised as her juices oozed out of her pussy. Then I ran my tongue tip up and down her pussy slit for a few times then I flattened my tongue on her pussy and gave a hard lick in upward motion, she shivered as I did that and held my head hard with her hands and legs. I thought she enjoyed it so I did it once more, flattening my tongue on her pussy and giving hard lick in upward motion and repeated it a few more times and her pussy juices just oozing out of her pussy and she was moaning louder and louder.

She held my head by my hairs and tugged it upwards indicating that she wanted me inside her, I held her hands and gently opened her grip and got up, took off my shorts and briefs and came between her legs, she opened her eyes and we both had lust in our eyes, I then held my dick in my hand, pulled back its skin and slowly rubbed its head on her pussy lips, she opened her legs wide as her eyes went to her pussy and saw my dick slowly circling on her pussy, my dick was throbbing and her pussy was quivering in anticipation. She was squirming and wriggling as I slowly teased her pussy by rubbing my dick's head on her pussy lips and clit. She was thrusting her pussy towards me and her pussy was leaking and was very wet, I then kept my dick on her pussy's entrance and gently shoved my hips towards her, my dick's head went inside her pussy with a plop sound and she wrapped her legs around my waist and started to pull me towards her. I kept my hands on the bed besides her waist as I slowly penetrated her pussy with my dick. She was so hot inside that I felt my ears and cheeks burning as I slowly penetrated her hot and wet pussy, I could feel my dick throbbing and her pussy walls were quivering.

She was looking in my eyes as my dick was slowly sliding inside she held my waist with her hands and wrapped her legs tight around my waist and gave me hard pull towards her and my dick went inside her hot pussy to hilt. I then stopped for a few moments as we both gazed each other in ecstasy as I enjoyed my throbbing dick wrapped in hot and wet quivering pussy, then she slowly started moving beneath me, it was just a small grinding movement as if she was rubbing her cilt on the base of my dick.

Then I groaned and drew back a bit and thrust my dick deep inside her, teasing her, she squirmed and shuddered and her pussy kept on getting wet by her juices as I worked myself inside her in shorts bursts, I could feel her pussy convulsing as I continued pumping inside her in shorts bursts. She was gasping and moaning as those little movements were teasing her, then she said long a please in breathy, broken and desperate voice. I also groaned and then pulled my dick back until only the head of my dick was inside her hot pussy, then drove it deep in a single and smooth thrust as her pussy was now leaking and was very well lubricated. She let out a strangled sort of cry and we began fucking in a hard rhythm, I was driving my entire throbbing dick to its hilt and each time my pelvis struck against her we both let out groans of pleasure. 

We were surrounded in musky scent as we both were pulling and pushing against each other, she held me with her hands and her legs were wrapped around my bums as she pulled me with vigor and I was also panting and penetrating my dick deep inside her hot pussy in a long and smooth stroke, my dick slowly swelling with each stroke.

We both were mumbling about how good it feels as we both moved in frenzy as I increased my pace faster and faster, our bodies vibrating from our piston action. All of a sudden she uttered a small scream, her pussy clamping around my dick pinning my dick in her velvety depths and our bodies burned in ecstasy her juices enveloping my dick as she sagged beneath me and just at that time I groaned as my dick pulsated and erupted deep inside her pussy, she smiled as I released my cum deep inside her pussy her groans mixing in my grunts as she milked my hardness with her velvety depths as my dick erupted bursts after bursts of my hot cum.

We stayed joined, panting as I pinned her beneath me, my chest heaving against her breasts, we both grunted as I shifted and lay down beside her, my spent cock sliding from her wet pussy with a slick sound. She shivered and turned, leaning against my chest, we both were still a little breathy; as she reached her hands on my chest rubbing it as I kissed on her lips and she opened her lips for a deep kiss which lasted for quite a while, as we both lay recuperating from a long marathon. Then after a while she if I wanted to wash, I nodded an affirmative and we both walked to the bath room hand in hand there we both had a leak and washed each other up and came back and lay down talking cuddled against each other.

After a while I asked her if she enjoyed it, she replied me with a passionate kiss and then I asked her if she could put up with me during the night, she assented to that. After an hour of so of cuddling and talking we both got up and got ready and went out for a short stroll. We came back to our rooms after having a light meal. I immediately went into the shower and shaved my facial as well as my very small pubic hair and then after half an hour around 9 at night she knocked at my door. I opened my door as she walked in wearing red shorts and white t-shirt; I was just in my shorts and briefs.

She came in and lighted cigarettes for both of us and tuned the television on some music channel and there was only a small bed light lighting the room. I sat down smoking on the bed with my back against the head board and she lay down with her head in my lap. My hand automatically went to her breast as I gently cupped and stroked it, my fingers moving around her nipples teasing her tight buds; she was not wearing anything underneath her t-shirt. Soon she was moaning as I lowered my mouth to suckle one nipple, teasing the tight bud with my teeth from above her t-shirt. She got up and sat on my lap, her legs wrapped around my waist and I pulled off her t-shirt making her naked above her waist, my hand caressing, stroking and kneading her bums as my lips found her lips and we began kissing feverishly then I traced my tongue on her neck licking her skin with the tip of my tongue all the way onto her shoulder blade and then down to her breast. I stuck my tongue out licking all around her nipple with the tip of my tongue and she held my head, her fingers gliding in my hair, as I gently flicked tip of my tongue on her left nipple. She let out a loud groan as I slowly took her nipple in my mouth and sucked it. She clasped her legs tight around my waist and her pelvis grinding against mine, she tensed and whimpered as I sucked her nipples taking them in my mouth alternately, while my hands went inside her shorts as I massaged and kneaded her bums with my hands.

We both were trembling as she moaned and gasped grinding her pelvis against mine while I was sucking her breasts alternately. I held her with my left hand on her bum kneading and caressing it and with my right hand I was caressing her left breast as I sucked her right breast. Then I gently let her down on the bed as I came on top of her; she gasped and moaned, her legs still wrapped around my body as I slowly licked my way to her belly button and all over her belly. Then I got up and held her shorts and pulled them down admiring her quivering body, then I slowly traced my tongue to her panty lining she smelled of woman and nature and there was a wet spot on her yellow panty. I then flicked my tongue and poked on the wet spot on her panty, she let out a loud moan and held my head tight with her hands and shoved it towards her pussy.

I rubbed and poked my tongue on the wet spot on her panty which was growing slick with her oozing pussy juices. Then I held her panty and pulled it down exposing her glistening pussy and I inhaled the musky scent of her pussy, then I parted her pussy lips I could see her velvety walls quivering with anticipation, I slowly licked her inner lips with the tip of my tongue sliding it in and out of her pussy. Then I feasted on her lapping my tongue on her clit, driving my tongue into her pussy and slurping her salty nectar while holding her by her bums. Her moans and gasps of pleasure took over both of us as her pussy slowly released juices which I licked to her satisfaction, as she held my head with her hands and her feet resting on shoulders and her pussy grinding on my mouth as I dragged my tongue up and down and in and out of her hot and wet pussy. She suddenly convulsed and arched her back and held my head forcefully on her pussy as her pussy released its juices and I complied by lapping them up feverishly. She let out a contented loud moan as she lay back exhausted and opened her dreamy eyes and locked them with mine with a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

I then got up, took a towel and cleansed my face of her pussy juices and took her in my arms and cuddled besides her kissing all over her face. She kissed me back her hands roaming all over my chest and making purring sounds, then her hand slowly snaked to my dick and stroked it from above my shorts, she then slowly came over me and kissed me passionately all over my face and said that she was going to suck my dick but she would not let me cum as she wanted it deep inside her, then slowly writhed downwards kissing all over my hairy chest and then flicked her tongue on my nipple, then she opened and clamped her mouth on my nipple and sucked it hard, I held her by her head as she alternated between both of my nipples for a few moments, all this while she was slowly rubbing her pussy on my thigh. Then she got up and held my dick in her hand and opened her mouth and gently sank her teeth on my clothed dick, teasing it, I groaned with pleasure.




Chance Encounter - Day 01



Then she unbuttoned my shorts and removed it then held my dick in my briefs and sank her teeth gently again in my dick teasingly. Then she slowly removed my briefs and admired my shaved dick and stroked it a bit and pressed it as my precum oozed out. She then opened her mouth and her tongue snaked out and coated the precum on my dick's head my eyes closed as I let out a loud moan, she then swirled her tongue all over my dick's head licking my oozing juice. Then she opened her mouth and slowly engulfed my dick in her mouth, her tongue rubbing against the vein of my dick. 

I held her head tight and was slowly shoving my hips forward in frenzy; she held my dick in her hand as she slowly engulfed my dick in her mouth, her tongue caressing my throbbing dick. Then she pulled up and my dick came out with a loud pop, she then pulled the foreskin back and worked her tongue all over my dick. She licked my throbbing dick with the tip of her tongue towards its base, and then she flicked her tongue all around the base of my dick, then she licked my balls and suddenly she took my ball in her mouth and gave it a hard suck, I let out a loud moan as she sucked my ball while she was fondling the other,

I was squirming in pleasure and she was teasing my balls with her tongue inside her mouth and was fondling my other ball and dick with her fingers. Then she sucked my balls for a while alternately and then sucked my dick again, taking it deep in her throat, making my balls and dick ache for a release, she sucked my dick but always pulled back before I could release my cum, she looked in eyes with a satisfactorily smile. She then came on top of me and held my dick in her hand, pulled back its skin and then she rubbed my dick's head all over her pussy slit and cilt tormenting herself and me. Then she kept my dick on her pussy entrance and slowly slid down on it parting her pussy as she leaned onto me her hands on my chest and nails digging into my skin making both of us moan loud. She bent down onto me to kiss my lips; her eyes wide and dazed gazed into mine.

She arched with a cry as my dick buried deep inside her hot pussy to its hilt then she began pushing and thrusting her hot pussy on my dick riding me slowly. She drew back and thrust again, our breaths whistling through clenched teeth at the exquisite pleasure of our embrace, her breasts rubbing on chest as she moved her hips. My dick was enveloped by her pussy, her pussy walls clasping and unclasping my dick, milking it greedily, every thrust brought a flash of searing heat burning us with a desire for more, the roar of hot blood and the frantic beating of heart filled my ears with a hot sensation.

We both groaned and grunted with a desire for more as she impaled her pussy on my dick, she thrust onto me again and again, shallow thrusts, smooth thrusts, deep strokes, her pelvis grinding against mine as I held her by her bums kneading and caressing them. She looked in my eyes, our eyes burning with lust as she continued her onslaught, our skins hot and glistening with perspiration as bare flesh stroked bare flesh.

She sat up on me opening her legs wide and clutched on my chest, her nails digging into my flesh as we both came to the end of journey together groaning hoarsely, she gasped and arched her back, her nails dug into my skin as my dick swelled and I clutched her bums and my balls drew up and my dick pulsed and jerked and then erupted somewhere deep inside her like a geyser and her pussy clamped around my dick and the intensity of the spasm came out of our mouths as an echoing cry as one. We clung together, hips still thrusting, nails digging into flesh as we climaxed in a rush and at the same time. She then fell onto me, my dick still hard and throbbing inside her still sensitive pulsing pussy, our bodies throbbed in synchronization to our heart beats, and we looked in each other eyes and smiled and then closed our eyes and lay like a log tangled in each other arms.



Chance Encounter - Day 02



Sorry, I forgot to mention that Chance Encounter - Day One was my first submission. This is my second submission so guys please do not mind the mistakes and do please, please, please send me feedback, it does encourage one.

Regards,

frank




My eyes opened to the soft bed light and television still running on some music channel, she moaned sleepily as I moved a bit to use the washroom, she also opened her eyes and smiled. I got up and went to washroom, when I turned around after washing up she was standing on the bathroom door. I kissed on her lips as I walked past her to the bed, she came back after a few minutes and we cuddled up and went to sleep.

I woke up as I felt something slick and hot engulfing my dick, as I looked down I saw my hands were holding her head and she was sucking my dick. My bums began to move in rhythm and my eyes closed in pleasure as she sucked my dick and caressed my balls. My dick began throbbing as she continued to suck my dick and caress my balls, then she stopped sucking my dick and without warning she took one of my balls in her mouth and sucked it hard. I groaned as she sucked my balls one by one and she was stroking my dick with her hand, my precum leaking as she sucked my balls and stroked my dick.

I then held her head and asked her to get in 69 position, she lay down on me and let her pussy rest in front of my face, I parted her pussy lips with my hands and then licked her pussy slit, she let out a loud sigh of content as I slowly began to lick her pussy slit and she was moving her pussy on my face. Then I poked her inner lips with the tip of my tongue and began to tongue fuck her vigorously, she began to grind her pussy against my face as I licked her pussy juice when it began to ooze out of her pussy.

We licked each other for a few minutes and then she got up and came on top of me and then she lowered herself on my dick and we both watched my dick slowly sliding inside her wet and hot pussy. Then she rested her hands on my chest and slowly began to grind her pussy on my dick in cowgirl style, her eyes locked with mine as I held her by her waist, our lips letting out moans of pleasure.

She slowly leaned down on me while riding on my dick at a slow pace and kissed my lips, I also held her caressing her back and bums as we kissed passionately. She got up after a long passionate kiss and began to move her bums vigorously my dick clamped inside her hot and wet pussy, my dick already throbbing mad inside her pussy, she dug her nails on my chest as we both neared climax.

I let out a loud gasp as my dick exploded deep inside her and I held her tight clamping her down on me and suddenly she arched her back after a few moments and fell down like a log on me. My dick was still hard and throbbing inside her pussy and she was milking my dick with her pussy as she lay down relaxing on me.

It was a free day for both of us as the interview was scheduled for the next day around 02:00 pm so we decided to wash each other up in the shower. I carried her to the bathroom and she opened the shower and we both got underneath it, washing, kissing and caressing each other, then we shampooed each other after that we began to soap each other, all this time my dick was hard and she was caressing it teasingly time to time.

She was washing soap off her body with her back towards me, I put my hands around her waist and pulled her towards me, then I started kissing her shoulder blades and my hands playing with pussy mound, gently caressing her pussy lips, she leaned on me as our breaths deepened and my hard dick rubbing between her bums. I slowly slipped my finger inside her pussy and she gasped and then slowly thrust her bums towards as she slowly bend down holding the taps and put her right leg on a turned bucket and the shower running on us from above, then I held my dick and put it on her pussy opening she was wet and I watched my dick slowly disappear inside her depths in fascination. Then she slowly began to move backward and forward,

I stood still watching, then leaned down on her and took her boobs in my hands and started caressing them. She let out a wild moan as I gently twisted her nipples and we both stood fucking there under the shower. I held her by her waist and pulled back my whole dick very slowly until only its head was inside then I thrust it inside in one motion, she let out a loud gasp as I invaded her and stayed still for a few moments, then again I took out my dick very slowly and repeated it a few times.

We both were enjoying it immensely then she stood up and turned towards me, our eyes gleaming with lust and passion then I sat down on the floor and she slowly sat down on my lap and held my dick with her hand and guided it to her pussy opening, then she rubbed my dick on her pussy slit, on her cilt and then slowly sat down on my dick while I was holding her by her waist. We both let out a loud moan as my dick was slowly engulfed by her hot pussy, I was still holding her by her waist and then as my dick was in her pussy to its hilt she paused for a few moments and locked her lips with mine.

Then she began squirming in my lap, I groaned in her mouth as she slowly writhed and thrust her pelvis on mine, I was kneading her bums as she slowly increased her pace, thrusting her pelvis harder and faster, we both were moaning and grunting as we started a hard driving rhythm fucking and moving. Our hips rocked with each thrust and as she was sitting on my lap, her cilt was rubbing against the base of my dick, we both cried out breathlessly with each stroke, my dick was aching, swelling and throbbing and the grip of her hot pussy was so tight and so hot.

With a hoarse groan, I tightened my grip on her bums and pulled her towards on me, my dick swelling tight within her hot pussy as she arched her back, her pussy clamped around my dick like a vice, milking my dick as we both shuddered through our climaxes, my dick pulsed and throbbed deep inside her pussy erupted like a geyser as she dropped on me her breasts heaving against my chest.

Her pussy was milking my dick, her pussy muscles rippling around my dick and our juices mingling as it leaked out of her pussy. We got our breaths back after a few minutes and we once again laughed and bathed each other playfully.

We had lunch in my room after that we slouched down on the bed. I was lying with only my pajamas and briefs on and she was lying beside me clad in t-shirt and panty with her face on my chest and was gently caressing it with her hands. Something came into focus which was nagging my mind and I embarrassingly asked her if she was on pills as I had cummed inside her so many times. She looked up and smiled and told me that I need not to worry about her getting pregnant.

Then her hand slowly slide in my pajamas and started stroking and caressing my dick as she kissed my nipple and licked it. She slowly crawled over me with pelvis wriggling against mine, then she bend down and slowly traced her tongue on my lips and then took my upper lip in her mouth and sucked it. I also started sucking her lower lip and my hands caressed her t-shirt clad back, then I slowly slid both my hands inside her panty and caressed her bums.

She was slowly thrusting her panty clad pussy against my pajama clad hard dick. After a few minutes she released my lip and we both drew deep breaths, then she sat up and took off her t-shirt and freed her boobs, I raised my hands and started caressing her boobs and nipples. Then she laid down on me and started to move up and down, her breasts massaging against my chest, I held her and slowly turned around and came above her. She wrapped her legs around me as I slowly licked her neck and then traced my tongue on to her breasts and licked them in circles all over avoiding the nipples.

Then I slowly traced my tongue on her aureole, she held my head in her hands and was moaning loudly and squirming beneath me as I flicked my tongue on her nipple. Her nipples became tight and stood out as I took her nipple in my mouth and started to suck it, she held my head and pushed me towards her breasts. I kept sucking her nipples alternately, her moaning and squirming made me horny and my dick became hard and I kept rubbing it on her thigh.

Slowly I traced my tongue to her abdomen, she whimpered as I licked all around and in her belly button, then I moved down towards her pussy mound she opened her legs as she held my head, then I smelled her musky scent and saw wet patch on her panty then I blew air from my mouth on her pussy and licked her panty clad pussy. She let out a loud wild moan and held my head and shoved me towards her pussy,

I also stuck out my tongue and licked her pussy from above her panty fabric. Then I hooked my fingers in her panty lining and pulled it down, she raised her bums as I slid her panty down and removed it. Then I grasped her legs and put them on my shoulders and held them, and then I slowly teased her by the tip of my tongue brushing on her pussy lips. I traced the tip of my tongue on her pussy slit downwards, then as I reached the bottom of the slit, I flattened my tongue and slowly applied pressure and licked it upwards, she held and thrust my head towards her pussy and arched her back and let out a wild and loud groan.

Then again I traced my tongue tip towards the bottom of her pussy slit and again flattened my tongue on her pussy and slowly rubbed it on her pussy in upward motion. I could sense that she liked it so I did it a few times more before wriggling my tongue tip inside her pussy as far as my tongue could reach inside her. She held my head hard and was shoving her pussy towards me as I tongue fucked her licking her oozing juices and she was moaning and groaning loudly, then all of a sudden she arched her back and cried out her pelvis jerking against my mouth and her juice leaked out of her pussy and held my head tight between her thighs.

Then she lay limp but held my head hard on her pussy, I also kept flicking my tongue in and out of her pussy and lapped up her juices as she slowly released my head from her grip. I crawled beside her and pulled her in embrace as she lay recuperating gathering her breath. She opened her eyes after a few moments, her face flushing in heat and smiled as she looked in my eyes, she told me that she had never experienced a thing like that before.

Then she told me that she wanted me to cum inside her, so I got up and came between her legs and held my hard dick, then I slowly rubbed my dicks head on her pussy and slit, then I kept it on her pussy opening and slowly began to penetrate her as she wrapped her legs around my waist, I sat up and caressed her boobs and nipples as she began to move beneath me.

After a few strokes I pulled my dick out slowly and when just its head was inside her pussy I stopped for a few seconds and plunged it back inside her pussy in one swift motion. She moaned and groaned wildly as I fucked her liked for a few minutes. Then I pulled out my dick and sat upright and she sat on my lap and held my dick and kept on her pussy opening, then she held my shoulders and I also reached my hands behind her back, on her bums and pulled her towards me, we both groaned in pleasure as my dick slowly slid inside her hot and wet pussy, she was as hot as a volcano, her slick inner muscles rippling as we both swayed and thrust holding onto each other.

My dick throbbed and her pussy pulsated as we both swayed in rhythm, her nails dug in my shoulders as I held her by her bums and pulled and pushed her on my lap. She flung her head back with a loud moan; her naked body arching and her weight drove my dick deep inside her pussy, she bounced on my lap, slamming my dick deep inside her pussy and milking my dick with hot and tight pussy. Her breasts bouncing with those movements and making me groan and taking me to new heights of pleasure as we rocked and glided and all of a sudden my balls tightened and my dick swelled and let out a wild loud groan as I bucked wildly and released my cum deep inside her and just as I cummed she also groaned and rocked in small thrusting movements on my lap for a few minutes and then collapsed onto me, our breaths were out as we both sat caressing each other and kissing our body radiating with heat. Then we lay down side by side naked with her back resting on chest and within minutes we were asleep exhausted.

I woke up and heard water running in the bathroom, I got up and went to bathroom and she smiled when she saw me and then went out, I also washed and got fresh. When I came back to bed I heard her soft breath, she was sleeping on her back with her legs folded, and I gently crawled inside the linen and between her legs and placed my face in front of her pussy.

Then I flicked the tip of my tongue on her clit, she instinctively opened her legs a little more, then I gently poked her pussy lips with my tongue, she let out a small moan and raised her bums. Then I wriggled my tongue on her pussy lips, her hands grasped my head and forced it downwards with a loud moan, then I parted her pussy lips with my fingers and pushed my tongue inside her pussy, she kept her legs on my shoulders and held my head and slowly began to move her bums.

In a few moments her moans were echoing in the room and her pussy was all wet, I began to tongue fuck her, our movements becoming wilder with every moment. Her pussy was slushy with her pussy juice and I was enjoying the taste of her salty pussy. Then she suddenly held my head and asked me to get into 69 position, I got up and lay down on my back and she came on top of me.

She placed her pussy in front of my face and she held my dick and slowly began circling her tongue on my dick head. I also parted her pussy lips and drove my tongue inside her pussy as far as it could go. We both began groaning as I licked her pussy and she slowly took my dick in her mouth. We both were moving our bums in pleasure as she sucked my dick and I licked her pussy.

Then she sat up straight and straddled my face, she kept her hands on thighs and moved her bums, I was enjoying her salty taste as her pussy juices were now leaking out of her pussy. Her body began to tremble as her legs wrapped around my neck and head and her hands grasped my thighs and nails dug into my skin, she quivered feverishly as her juices rushed out of her pussy in a spurt and she collapsed onto me as I kept on licking her until she stopped shuddering and moving her bums.

Then she slowly got up and came between my legs and held my dick in her hands and then looked in my eyes and slowly moved her tongue on my dicks head. I groaned and my eyes half closed in pleasure, then she took my dick's head in her mouth and gave it a hard suck, I groaned hard and held her head and slowly raised my bums to slide my dick in her hot mouth, she also opened her mouth to accommodate my dick.

I was moaning and squirming beneath her as she moved her mouth up and down on my dick shaft. I could feel my dick throbbing inside her mouth and her tongue pressing hard on my vein, as she moved her head up and down. After a few minutes I warned her that I was about to cum she doubled her efforts, her lips sucking hard and her hand moving up and down the shaft rapidly.

I lifted my hips off the bed and groaned hard as my sperm began to rush from the shaft and pour into her mouth. She swallowed quickly and then pumped his shaft, sucking for more, my dick squirted several huge volleys of cum into her mouth and some of it escaped her lips and ran down the shaft under her pumping fist. Each contraction forced another large gob of my sperm into her mouth and she swallowed it.

I lay exhausted as she slowly crawled and lay down on me, my hands caressing her back and bums. We lay down like that for a while and then got up and cleaned up ourselves and we found that it was evening and we went out for a stroll. She took me to a mall and did some shopping, I also purchased a small crystal dolphin wind chime as a gift for her but it was a surprise and I kept it my bag as I wanted to give it to her when we parted. Then we came back to our motel and had some light dinner.

I was flipping channels on the television after having a bath when she came into my room, she was dressed in a ankle length skirt and t-shirt and I could see that she was not wearing anything it. She came and sat on the bed besides me and lighted two cigarettes and handed me one. We chatted some as we sat smoking and she told me that she was smoking after a long time, she smoked when she was in college.

I told her that I enjoyed when she sucked me earlier and she told me with a mischievous glint in her eyes that she loved it when I was licking her pussy, she had done oral before but she had never experienced anything like that before. I smiled and told her I could do it again but she would have to straddle my face for that. I held her in my arms and we both kissed each other passionately for a few minutes while exploring each other bodies with our hands and removing our clothes.

Soon we both were naked and I lay down on my back with a pillow under my head and she came on top of me with her pussy in front of my face, I heard her moan in excitement as I poked the tip of my tongue on her clit, she held the head board, raised herself and whacked her pussy against my face as I held her by her bums and pulled her close to my mouth. She grunted and moaned as my tongue explored her pussy slit and clit knob. Her clit knob was hard and raised so I took it between my lips and squeezed it gently, she moaned wildly and shuddered as I squeezed and sucked her clit with my lips.

She whacked her pussy against my face, I left her clit and poked my tongue out and slid it inside her pussy lapping up her oozing juices and swirled my tongue on her tender inside muscles. She groaned and her juices began to rush out of her pussy as I drank all of it. She was straddling me hard and fast, her breath coming in gasps, her pussy slapping on my face with a force, I also stuck my tongue out to full extent as she pumped her pussy on my face, her juices were flowing freely and I was eagerly licking it all.

She straddled me for a few minutes and then she whacked her pussy aggressively on my face, my tongue sliding in and out of her pussy and she squirted a lot of juice into my open mouth and squeezed her pussy against my face. Her breath was coming in gasps as she sat on my face shuddering and her pussy quivering against my face. She slowly got off me and lay down beside me, her whole body still shuddering a bit, her face was lustrous and her whole body felt very hot against my skin.

I held her for a while as she gathered her breath. Then I moved between her legs and flicked my tongue on her pussy again, she held my head and raised her bums to meet my tongue. I held her legs and kept them on my shoulders and then flicked my tongue on her hard clit, then I took it between my lips and squeezed it gently, she let out a loud groan, held my head in her hands and thrust her pussy towards me. I traced the tip of my tongue on her pussy slit towards its base, then I flattened my tongue on her pussy and applied pressure on it and licked it upwards. She let out a loud moan and lifted her bums and held my head harder, then I repeated it again and again, suddenly she arched her back, her feet on my shoulders and let out a small shriek and I was rewarded with a small jet of juice from her pussy. She collapsed back on the bed but I continued to flick my tongue in and out of her pussy and she kept on groaning and thrashed her head about on the bed. After a few minutes she arched her back again and her pussy oozed out more juice and this time also I drank her juices and then she lay down exhausted on the bed.

I got up and lay down beside her and slowly started caressing her boobs. Then I kissed her nipples and swirled my tongue all around it, then I took her hard nipple in my mouth and started to suck it, while I slowly massaged her pussy mound with my palm. Gradually she opened her legs and I rubbed my middle finger on her pussy slit, she moaned and held my head as I sucked her nipples alternately, then I slowly inserted my middle finger inside her pussy and started massaging her inner walls. She slowly responded to my touch and her pelvis started to move, I slowly and gently fingered her and kept sucking her nipples, soon her erotic moans filled the room and her pelvis started thrusting against wildly.




Chance Encounter - Day 02



After a few minutes her pussy clasped my finger tightly and she cummed, her whole body was shaking and quivering and her face was flushed. I stopped fingering her and embraced her as I lay by her side. Her breath calmed down and she buried her face in my chest and embraced me.

Then she got up and came between my legs and lovingly held my dick and started stroking it. She lowered her head down and flicked her tongue on my dicks head, and then she slowly slid my dick's head in her hot mouth and gave it a hard suck, I held her hair and gently pushed her and my bums raised a bit. She also opened her mouth and my dick slowly slid in her mouth, I began to groan as she slowly moved her head up and down my dick, my hips moving and thrusting.

I was very horny and soon my dick started throbbing, then she let go my dick and traced her tongue on my dick and started licking my balls. All of a sudden she took my ball in her mouth and sucked it, I groaned hard and held her head tight, while she was pumping and fisting my dick. Then she sucked my other ball and then she slowly traced her tongue on my dick and took my dick in her mouth again. She moved her head up and down while stroking it, my precum was leaking and I moan as I slowly moved towards climax, I warned her that I was about to cum and she started moving her head up and down my dick vigorously.

My balls tensed and I held her head and my body shuddered as I shot my cum deep in mouth with a loud howl, she also pumped my dick with her hand and swallowed my cum. I lay exhausted and she kept pumping my dick till she licked every last drop she could squeeze out of my dick. Then she crawled on me and lay down and kissed all over my chest and rubbed and gently twisted my nipples and also gently nibbled them.

My dick started to spring to life with all that teasing and kissing of my nipples, she was also moving her pussy against my dick. Then I sat up and she came on my lap and held my dick and guided it to her now wet pussy, then she rubbed my dick's head on her pussy slit and we began moaning. After a few minutes we both could not take that teasing any longer and she kept my dick on her pussy opening, then she held me by my shoulders and thrust herself towards me we both growled as my dick slid inside her velvety wet depths in one swift motion.

Then she grazed her lips onto mine and we began kissing passionately, sucking and nibbling each other's lips, our bodies moving in one synchronized movement, her boobs heaving and rubbing against my chest. I held her by her bums and pulled and pushed her vigorously, I bent my head a bit and took her nipple in my mouth and suck it hard, our bodies thrusting at each other and moving in frenzy and both of us moaning and grunting, making animal noises I was holding her by her waist and her hands were holding my shoulders and we were pushing and pulling each other.

I reclined on the pillow covered head broad and she was thrusting her pelvis hard and fast, my dick buried deep in her hot and wet pussy, my dick throbbing for a huge release. Suddenly I threw my head back and my dick exploded deep inside her pussy and she was still thrusting her pussy on my dick, moaning and grunting her pussy lubricated with a mixture of our juices and she arched her back, her pelvis struck my pelvis hard and then she collapsed onto me, her breasts heaving against my chest as if we had run a marathon. I gently rubbed my palms all over her back as we both lay recapturing our breaths.

I woke up in the morning as I felt her stir and she was lying beside me with her back towards me and my right hand on her breast, my right leg on her left leg and my dick was hard and pressing against her bums. She turned around and smiled radiating and kissed me lightly on my lips. Then she got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up, meanwhile I brushed and lit a cigarette. She came out of the bathroom and took the cigarette from my lips and asked me to light up another as she sat smoking.

At around 09:00 am we both went to bathroom to have a shower and both of us had a long and relaxing shower without being naughty as we had to face interview.

I will tell who got the job in my next and final submission in Chance Encounter series.



Chance Encounter Helps to Find Lost



He walked into the bar just wanting a quick drink before heading up to his room. Being a happily married man, he had no thought of picking up a woman in a bar. He had never even thought about cheating on his wife before, nor had he ever had a desire for a one night stand. That is why he was so surprised when he saw her sitting with friends. He could not keep his eyes off of her. She was not a model type, just a regular everyday woman, but there was an instant attraction that he had never known before. She was so real, not like the typical women you see in a bar. She did not seem to be looking for anything, just enjoying herself with her friends. He caught her eye and smiled. She smiled back, just a smile, but it seemed like so much more. It was as if she said "me too". He guiltily thought of his wife then. She was a beautiful woman, a stay at home mom who was always good to him. He felt guilty when he realized she had never stirred him in the lustful way that this stranger was doing now. He felt himself starting to get hard just like a teenager.

She was out at the bar with co-workers after a long week at a trade show. They were all flying home tomorrow and the company wanted to have a dinner meeting to discuss the week behind them. She had just enough time to go back to her room for a quick shower and change before meeting everyone for dinner. After dinner she went with two girls from her department to the hotel bar for a quick drink. Although she was not the drinking type, she allowed herself to enjoy a few after the long week she had had. She saw him walk in and felt something stir inside her. There was an instant attraction. It wasn't like he was a super hunk. He was quite ordinary really, but there was something about him. She felt as if they had a connection somehow. Then he looked right at her and smiled. Smiling back at him made her feel as if they were alone in the room together. It was a connection. She felt a tingling sensation deep inside and she had an overwhelming desire to touch her breasts and squeeze her nipples right on the spot. She blushed a little at the thought. She guiltily felt a desire for this stranger that she had not felt for her husband in years.

He was only planning to have one drink then head up to his room and turn in, but he stayed in the bar hoping to find some way of talking to her without her friends. 

She found that she was distracted by him and not able to keep up with the conversation with her friends. After a while, her friends all decided to head back to their rooms.

"I think I will stay for one more drink," she said. 

"OK, we will see you in the morning ... our flight leaves at 9:00".

He watched as her friends left and was excited to see that she had stayed behind. Should he talk to her? He was happily married and loved his wife, but there was something almost magical about this woman. She was not the typical "hot chick" that most guys are attracted to. She was in her mid thirties with long dark hair, a few extra pounds and conservatively dressed, but she had something about her that made him look at her with complete lust. 

She was hoping he would approach her and start a conversation. She surprised herself with that thought. After all she was a married woman. She loved her husband and had never thought about cheating on him. Was she really hoping that this stranger would talk to her? What did she think was going to happen? Even if he does talk with her, what's wrong with that? It's not like she is going to have sex with him.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she responded quickly. What was she thinking? Well, it is just a drink. What harm could it do?

He sat down across from her and could not take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely amazing. He could imagine her without clothes on and felt himself becoming hard. There was something in her eyes when she smiled that made him feel like she wanted him in the same way he wanted her.

She looked at him and wondered what it was that attracted her to him. He was an ordinary looking guy, mid thirties, well kept and nice looking. There was something more though. The way he looked at her made her feel like she was truly wanted. Not needed like a husband needs a wife to help make a home for their kids, but wanted like a man who wanted her with an animal lust. Lust for her. Not just for sex, but for sex with her. Somehow this man made her feel like she was truly a sexual being. The thought made her feel like she never had before.

They talked for half an hour about various subjects. Both confessed to being married and admitting that they had never thought about cheating. They talked about their sex lives openly and honestly. She told him that her husband wanted to try different things, but that she was much too conservative and shy. She told him that for all her husband wanted to try, he was very timid in bed, very respectful and polite. He had never made her feel the desire to try these new things. She could not believe how open they both were about this. She had never felt so comfortable talking about sex before. Not even with her husband. What she did not tell him was that her husband had never made her feel the pure lust she felt now. He told her that he and his wife were the same way, both too shy to move their sex life forward. His next question shocked him to the core; he could not believe that he asked, "Do you want to come up to my room? Maybe we can help each other with these things."

Her answer was immediate and took her by surprise, "Yes."

There was no pretense as to what she was going to his room for. No pretending at all. She was going up to have sex with him, a one night stand. Something neither had ever thought about before. They were quiet on the way up to his room. Both knew they should not be doing this, but both knew it was something they had to do. She hoped he was going to take her and make her his, that he was going to show her just how much he wanted her. She knew she wanted him just as bad.

When they finely got in his room he immediately pinned her to the wall and firmly kissed her. She had never had a man be rough with her before. He did not hurt her, but was just firm enough to let her know that he was in control. He had both of her hands over her head against the wall pinning them there forcefully with one hand. With the other hand, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.

"I am going to fuck you like you have never been fucked before."

Her husband had never talked to her like this. He had wanted to but she never let him. She was normally too shy, but hearing this stranger say this to her made her lose any inhibitions she had left.

"I want you to fuck me," was her response. She could not believe she was doing this. She forgot about everything except having this man in front of her. She knew she would do anything he told her to do.

He opened her blouse with his free hand. She could feel her hard nipples pushing thru the fabric of her bra. She ached to have him touch them, play with them, and squeeze them. Suddenly she was glad she had worn the bra that fastened in the front. Her excitement grew as she felt him brush his hand over her breast and release the bra. He then firmly played with her breast, squeezing the entire breast while his thumb and forefinger squeezed the nipple. She let out a moan of pure ecstasy. She had never felt lust like she did right now. She wanted this man to take her, to truly fuck her, not make love to her gently. She needed him inside of her.

He then undid the skirt she was wearing and let it fall to the floor. He teasingly ran his hand up and down her body, still pinning her to the wall and holding both of her hands over her head. She felt his hand start down to her pussy, and she knew it was wetter than ever before. He felt the moisture through her panties.

"Your pussy is nice and wet!"

All she could do was moan in anticipation. He slid her panties aside and started to rub her clit. She was shaking with lust and needed to orgasm. He started rubbing harder and faster, kissing her deeply. She loved having him play with her clit while he kissed her. He started to kiss her neck while rubbing her clit faster and faster. She moaned again.

"Ohhh!"

"I am going to make you cum right now."

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

She had the most powerful orgasm of her life right then. This stranger had just made her orgasm with his fingers and left her feeling weak in the knees. She was truly lost in lust. All she knew was that she wanted to have this man inside of her, wanted to be his ... his ... slut. The thought took her by surprise. She had never felt this way before. She had never felt the animal lust and passion to be taken and treated like a sex object. 

He quickly took off the rest of her clothes. Taking her by the arm he brought her to the bed and pushed her down on her back with her legs over the edge of the bed. He knelt down in front of her, between her legs. He kissed the inside of her thigh. He was intoxicated by the pleasant smell of her pussy. She felt his lips on her thigh and it felt incredible. She felt him slowly kissing his way up her leg. She normally needed a minute after orgasm to recoup before this kind of attention, but she was ready for him. She felt his tongue circle her outer lips, then she felt him lick just the inside of her lips and around her clit.

"That feels so good!"

When he finally started on her clit, she moaned. She had never had two orgasms so close together before, but she knew this stranger was going to make her have another in seconds. He reached around her legs and started to play with one of her nipples at the same time he started to suck on her clit. He then took his other hand and plunged two fingers deep inside of her. She could feel him play with her nipple with one, penetrating her with two fingers from the other hand, and relentlessly sucking and licking her clit with his talented tongue. It was too much for her.

"You're going to make me cum!"

She put both hands on his head and ground her throbbing pussy onto his face. She felt the orgasm starting. It rolled through her body with such power that it made her lose any control she had left. This stranger was making her have a second orgasm in a matter of minutes. She was totally lost in the moment. She moaned in complete ecstasy.

"Eat my pussy!"

He responded by perfectly timing the squeeze of her nipple, thrusting of the fingers, and the sucking of her clit. 

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

The orgasm seamed to last forever. It was so intense. He kept up the pressure throughout. Tasting her wetness and feeling her trembling body. 

She was completely lost in the moment. Her mind and body were on sensory overload. She knew she would do absolutely anything this man asked her to do. She normally was a one orgasm lover, but he had just made her have two within fifteen minutes of coming to his room. This stranger that she had just met less then than an hour ago, had not only made her have two intense orgasms so quickly, she knew she wanted to have another! She needed him inside of her. It was not just that she wanted him; she needed to have his member inside of her trembling body. She needed to feel him, to be taken by him, to be ravished by his throbbing tool.

He started kissing his way up her body, up her stomach, on each nipple, up to her throat. He finally kissed her mouth. She could smell and taste herself on him. Normally this was a turn off, but in her current state, it was incredibly erotic. She licked his face and chin, and sucked all of herself off of his face.

He pulled her up off of the bed so their bodies were facing each other. He put his hand on her chin and made her look him in the eyes.

"I'm going to fuck you now and make you mine."

She watched glossy eyed as he undid his belt. She watched as he let his pants fall to the ground. When he finally took off his underwear she was fixated on his cock, almost hypnotized. It was larger than any she had ever had before and was absolutely rock hard. She had to feel that thing inside of her. He turned her around and pushed her on to the bed.

"Get on your knees so I can fuck you from behind."

She complied without hesitation. She could not wait for him to penetrate her. She needed to feel him inside of her, filling her, taking her. She felt the head of his dick rub around the outside of her pussy lips and then felt the head penetrate her. She tried to push back on him, wanting him all the way inside of her, but he pulled out and in a low controlling voice he said, "Tell me what you want."

"I want to feel you inside of me." 

He again rubbed her aching pussy with his throbbing dick, inserting just the head before pulling out. This teasing, controlling act was driving her beyond crazy with anticipation. She wanted to feel his dick thrusting deep inside of her. She would do anything to feel him.

This time he said a little bit louder, "Tell me what you need!"

By this time she was so worked up that she needed to be treated like a sex object, to be taken, to be made his women.

She was so lustful that she was pleading with him. "Please fuck me ... make me yours!"

He plunged deep inside of her. She felt his dick sliding into her and she was amazed at how full it made her feel. He started to fuck her hard and fast. They were beyond starting slow and building it up, both knew what they wanted, what they needed. She arched her back just a little bit to allow his dick to hit her G spot with each thrust. It was absolutely overwhelming! She reached down with one hand and started to rub her clit while his member got her G spot. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back hard. It hurt a little bit at first, but she was so lost in the moment that it just made her more willing. He timed each pull of her hair with each thrust. She was beyond caring about being the proper shy girl. She needed this.

"Fuck me harder," she moaned without thought, "Fuck me."

"Your pussy feels so good." 

It did not take long, not even ten minutes, but she knew she would orgasm for a third time!

"You're going to make me cum again!"

He felt it too. He knew he could not last any longer. He had never felt this much passion before, never known this much lust. He felt the orgasm starting and knew he was as the point of no return.

"I'm cumming," he yelled. 

He felt it start deep within him and felt his cum shoot out of his dick with more force than ever before. Wave after wave of cum shot into her waiting pussy. It was so intense that it left his legs shaking and weak. He was left barely able to stand.

She could feel the force of his cum shooting inside of her. Knowing that this stranger just filled her with cum put her into such lustful state that she had her third orgasm of the evening.

"I'm Cumming!" She practically screamed it. 

She was in complete bliss. She had never felt this way, so satisfied, so complete, so much like a woman.

They both collapsed on the bed. 

He had never felt so much passion and lust, had never had so much desire to control a women. He had never felt like such a man. He knew that he was never going to see this woman again, but he also knew that she would never be far from his thoughts.

He looked her in the eye and said simply, "You're amazing!"

She looked at this man lying next to her in awe. He had just made her wildest fantasies come true, had made her feel so complete and so much the woman, and he said that she was amazing! She suddenly realized that he had felt the desire to be needed and lusted after just as bad as she did. She wanted to do something more for him. Something she had never thought about before. The thought came to her and made her feel a little slutty, but she knew he would like it.

After catching their breath for just a minute she put her mouth to his ear and whispered, "You have made me feel like a woman, made me your slut, and given me a night I will never forget ... now I want to do something for you."

With that she gently licked his ear and down his neck. She kept going until she was sucking on his nipple. She looked him in the eye and with no hint of shyness said, "I am going to make you cum again ... but this time I am going to taste it."

She continued down his body until his dick was just inches from her face. She could see he was already starting to get hard again. His cock was coated with his cum and her juices. She decided to dive in all the way and she took his semi-erect member in her mouth. She could taste herself and his cum mixed together. She had never even thought about going down on her husband after sex, but somehow this just seemed so natural. The taste of her juices and his cum mixed together was so erotic, so sexual, that she began to feel a tingling again deep inside. She felt his dick growing in her mouth as his erection became complete. He moaned in pure bliss as she slowly took every inch in her mouth. She knew that he was enjoying having her take control and wanted to make him know that she enjoyed it too. She leaned forward and put her mouth next to his ear and quietly said;

"Your dick tastes so good ... I can taste your cum and my pussy."

He just moaned in response. Then she kissed him passionately and deeply. He could taste both him and her and it turned him on even more. After the kiss she looked him in the eye and said, "I can't wait to feel you cum in my mouth!"

He could not believe how lucky he was to have such a woman doing this. As she continued to suck his dick, she was shocked to realize what she was doing. She had just met this stranger an hour ago. In that short time he had swept her off of her feet, made her have three of the most intense orgasms of her life, made her feel more like a woman than she had ever felt possible. He made her his slut, but somehow it was in no way demeaning. She never felt better about herself and had never felt more confident or wanted. She knew that he respected her all the more because she was giving herself to him so completely. And now she had his manhood in her mouth just minutes after he shot a huge load of cum into her pussy. She wanted to show him just how much she liked it.

"I can't wait to taste your cum in my mouth!"

He knew he was not going to last long. He was so turned on by this woman that it was all he could do to hold off. He had not been able to cum twice so quickly since college. He knew it was pure lust for this amazing woman that made it possible. She was like nobody he had ever known, she was doing some very dirty slutty things, but he knew it was just for him. He knew that she had never acted this way before and that she was doing it because she was just as lustful for him as he was for her! The thought put him over the edge.

"I'm going to cum"

"I want to taste it!" She was practically pleading with him.

She felt his body go stiff and went all the way down on him. She had his entire length in her mouth and felt his cum shoot with amazing force. There was so much that she could not hold it all in her mouth and she let some of it drool out back over his dick. She kept sucking him slowly until he started to relax. She still had most of his cum in her mouth and decided to put on a show for him. She tilted her head back and let him see her mouth full of his cum. Most of it stayed in her mouth, but some of it drooled around the edges and down her chin. Then she closed her mouth, smiled at him and swallowed it all down. She had never swallowed before and had refused to do so for her husband, but she found that after this evening she was ready for it. She was surprised to find that she really liked it. She loved the feeling of control and self confidence that came over her when she swallowed his load.

"I have never known a woman like you before ... nobody has ever made me feel like the man you have."




Chance Encounter Helps to Find Lost



She knew exactly what he meant. She had never felt like such a woman before. She responded by saying "You are the best lover I have ever had, you made me want to do things I never even imagined myself doing before."

She leaned forward and kissed him deeply. They lay down next to each other completely spent, neither having the energy to move. They both fell asleep.

When he woke in the morning she was gone. They both knew that that was what had to happen. Both were married to other people. Neither of them felt guilty for what they had done and both knew they would never do anything like it again. As she sat in her seat on the plane ride home, she was thinking about a few surprises she would do for her husband when she got home.



Chance Encounter of the Sexual Kind



The dark mysterious stranger:

It is a stormy night. I am in a stranger in this little town, here for a meeting. I ask the hotel manager for a quiet restaurant nearby. 

His recommendation is only a block away. "Great Italian food," he says. "But watch the wine, it is very potent." 

I walk briskly to the restaurant avoiding the raindrops as much as possible. It is almost empty. I look at my watch. No wonder, it is almost 9:30 pm. I get a table in a dark corner of the room and order a bottle of the house red wine and some oysters. 

I see the door swing open and you walk into the hallway. You are carrying a broken umbrella and are drenched from head to toe. I could not help noticing the cotton dress clinging to your breasts outlining your erect nipples. It's obvious you have no bra on. 

You are given a table next to mine. I can't take my eyes off you as you are seated. Even in your wetness you are so deliciously beautiful. The waiter brings my wine. You cast me a glance. 

"Would you join me for some wine," I ask. 

You hesitate, then slide over to my table. You can't help but notice that I am looking at your firm breasts under your wet dress. We sip some wine. The warmth of it going down your throat makes your cheeks rosy in the candlelight. We share the bottle and order another.

The oysters slide over our lips like an erotic sex act. We have hardly spoken a word but I am so infatuated with you. You can feel my eyes mentally undressing you. You like the feeling and imagine what it would feel like to lie naked next to me on this stormy night.

You drop your spoon and I lean down to retrieve it. Under the tablecloth I can see your dress is hiked up over your hips. Your wet panties are around your ankles. Your legs are spread wide revealing the most delightful shaved pussy. I cannot take my eyes from the sight. You know what you are doing to me. Your hand drops under the table and a finger rims your lips then moves up and down to harden your clitoris. I still haven't gotten up from retrieving the spoon. The sight is too exciting and the wine has me crazy. 

Finally I sit back up and can feel the erection in my pant growing. You take your hand from under the table and lick your finger. My eyes almost roll back in my head with lust for the taste of your pussy. 

Without a word you get up and slowly walk out the door. I get up to follow but I have not paid yet so I throw a hundred on the table. I glance down to where you were sitting and see your panties under your chair. I snatch them up and I cannot believe the heavenly aroma of your body and juices. I want it so bad! I rush to the exit and look up and down the street.

The hot, needy slut:

Standing back in the alley between the buildings, I see you rush from the restaurant and frantically look up and down the street. I notice you have my panties in your hand and as you raise them to your nose, inhaling deeply, you mutter a curse. 

I raise myself up onto a large wooden box and at the sound you turn your head toward me. Your eyes light up as you see me, pulling my dress up over my head and dropping it on the box behind me. Since I don't wear bras, I'm now naked but for my high heels. I raise my legs and brace my feet on the box beside my hips, which causes my pussy to gape open and you stare at my shaven snatch glistening wetly in the faint light. 

As I watch you slowly turn and walk toward me. I reach down and begin to finger my pussy which is already sopping wet. As you come closer you reach down and open you belt and unsnap you slacks.

Pulling your rock hard cock from your pants you step between my spread legs and, looking intently into my eyes you ram yourself home, deep into my waiting pussy. You grab my ass in both hands and yank me deeper onto your throbbing cock. Closing my eyes, I throw my head back and let out a deep, primal groan at the feel of your thick cock stretching my pussy wide.

Lowering my head I grab your hair in my hands and growl "Fuck me! Fuck me like a wild animal. Do it...do it NOW!"

And grabbing my tits you shove me back onto the box and begin ramming deep and hard into my grasping cunt like a man obsessed. You're grunting with every stroke of your cock as you strive to get every inch deep inside me. 

"Take it bitch! Take it all." you growl. Raising my legs over your shoulders you lean over me, grab my tits hard and pound into me like someone gone mad. Just like the raging beast I need you to be! It doesn't take long for me to feel my orgasm building.  

I grab your hair, pull your head down to my swollen breasts and moan "Bite them, bite them hard, chew on my nipples...please!"

With my legs still over your shoulders you begin chewing on my tits like a starved animal as my orgasm overcomes me. Throwing back my head I scream. You slap your hand over my mouth to muffle the god awful sounds I'm making, pumping harder and faster as your cum begins to pulse out of your cock and spew deep within my grasping, sucking pussy. With the last spurt of cum from your cock you fall against my limp body, both of us breathing hard and fast. 

Slowly you straighten up. Your now soft cock falls from my pussy with a wet sucking sound and you reach down and pull up your pants and begin to fasten them.

Sitting up and stepping down from the box I pull my dress over my head and adjust it over my body.

Walking to the end of the alleyway we stop, look at each other, smile and turn to go our separate ways without saying a word. You still with my panties in your hand!