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Fallin'

By: perks



Listening to Alicia Keys, Fallin'. I can feel the heat wash over my body in a pink flush. My hand drifts over my neck, then down my rosy skin, freshly damp from the shower. 

I glance over at you, your chest is bare and I can feel that tightness between my thighs. You're sitting up against pillows, and I'm wondering how aware you are that, naked you combined with this song effects me as much as it does. I move over to you and grab the edge of the covers. You don't seem to be paying much attention to me. I rip the covers off of your body, and you finally look up at me with a startled glance. 

A naughty grin slides over your face as you take in my state of undress. Hair wrapped in a towel, tiny beads of water on my skin, and a pair of the flimsiest silky pale pink panties you've ever seen. I feel my nipples harden with excitement as you peruse my body, hearing the strains of that Fallin' song in the background.."how can you bring me so much pleasure when you bring me so much pain". 

With a lusty growl I straddle you in an instant. Damn, baby, you're hard for me already. I lean up on my knees and rock my throbbing clit against the underside of your cock. You can feel it through my panties.

I can feel your hands on my hips, fingertips grazing so lightly over the edges of my panties. You're looking up at me with such a gentle look. I see deeply intense longing in them, then a spark of lust. I watch as your eyes get that gleam, that animal urgency, that heat I love. I feel your thumbs hook inside the sides of my panties. My hips jerk as you rip my panties off of me. You can hear me gasp as you bury your cock in my wet pussy in one harsh thrust.

You grin devilishly as your realize I'm so turned on by you, by your hunger. You whisper to me, saying how you like my naughty little pussy all wet for you. I grab the headboard behind you, my hand wrapping around the bar. I can hear the beat of that song, the heavy base, and I rock my hips, hard, pulling onto your cock, squeezing. This song makes me want to fuck. God you make me want to ride you for hours. How is your cock so thick and this hard? 

I can feel your cock push up into me My thighs tensing as I bounce up and down your cock, ,faster, rhythmically. My whimpering moans climbing higher on the scale as I circle my hips grinding you against that spot, completely using your cock to quench my need. Taking pleasure from it, riding you towards that peak, I pull my feet under me, crying out for you to suck on my bouncing tits...I feel your lips wrap around one, sucking, biting. The shock of your teeth sends electric current to my clit. 

You know my body and slide slick fingers over my clit as you urge me to fuck you. You call me your wanton bitch, and hear me moan, panting at your naughty words of lust. I reach behind me and toy with your heavy full balls, tugging the skin slightly, squeezing my pussy muscles around you. 

Then my body is jerking, my thighs shuddering. You can feel my whole body tense. You thrust into me faster, your fingers digging into my ass, riding me through my orgasm. You can feel my cum flood over your cock onto your thighs. My ass is sliding against you. I feel your cock swell, and jerk again into me, spurting your cum deep inside me. I hear the end of the song as I collapse panting against your chest...Fallin'.....Fallin'. 

Falling



Panting like an animal, she slammed the door shut behind her and stood in the hallway. She was on fire. Every part of her, consumed, remembering the day at work. Jokingly stopping by the base with her girlfriends... then getting lost in the ordered mass of men. Waiting back, even when Katie and the others had left. Hearing the repetitive echo of boots on the field, on concrete. Sensing the muscles rippling under each starched, camouflaged uniform. Hearing them sweat. Sitting there in the twilight, waiting, hoping... and getting.

"Honey, that you?" her boyfriend called from the kitchen. "Dinner's in the oven, I was going to wait, but-"

He paused in the doorway. Knowing the fire in her eyes, the wild curl of her hair, the open mouth. He stuttered over his last word, almost afraid, as, catlike, she turned to him, grinning evilly. Then approached, bumping into the side table in her haste. She grabbed him by the shirt, so hard she felt her nails scrape across his chest. Spinning him, then pushing him mercilessly down onto the couch.

"Kneel," she hissed. "Now." Hesitating, shuffled off the couch, and slowly put one knee down, then the other. 

"Honey, what-"

"Quiet." She slipped her hands down to her side, hiking up her skirt. "Look, boy. And guess where I went today?"

She put both hands on the inside of her thighs, trailing them up to her wet warmth. Taking a few fingers to each side of her aching mound, she pulled apart. The heat practically dripped from her, she could feel it string from one lip to the next, and knew that he could see it too.

"The army base..." he mumbled.

"That's right," she replied. "Now open your mouth... wider. There you go!"

He knelt, face inches from her aching core. She smiled secretly, hearing the zip of his jeans, knowing how much this would turn him on. She reached down and tangled her fingers through his curls, missing the short, formal army haircut, knowing remembering would inspire her fire to an even more intense blaze. And all that frustration would be vented now, into his mouth, and onto his face.

She stood there. Pale legs sending a long shadow across the room, her skirt bunched around her waist, stomach still heaving, holding the head of a man, kneeling before her. It was time. She pulled him right into her. He muffled a yelp of surprise as she practically pushed him into her. She felt her lips spread over his mouth, then his nose, as she desperately rubbed him in her wetness, feeling each fold flick slickly over each bump on his face. "Stick out your tongue," she hissed through gritted teeth, still grinding his face into her core. Her juices were flowing unstoppably, his breath coming ragged, sloppy with an occasional smack. She even heard him swallow.

She shuffled backwards, loosening her grip and feeling him gasp for breath. His face was covered in her. Slick, glistening traces of her were smeared over his nose, his cheeks, and his mouth. His face belonged to her... to her hot, furious core. 

"I said stick out your tongue." Hesitating, his tongue slipped out of his mouth. Her hands tightened in his hair again, though this time she pulled down, her other hand pushing on his forehead so his neck was bent back against the couch. "Further, boy."

Lewdly, she shuffled forward again, knees bent, until she was directly over his mouth. Looking down, she noticed his hands, one holding down his jeans, the other wanking off his hard, somewhat small, dick. "Open me," she hissed. His hands came up along her legs, then reached her glistening mound. Slowly, he pulled the thin, trembling lips apart. She was so wet she could feel the suction pop as they parted. "Keep your tongue all the way out!"

With him holding her apart, and her hands practically forcing him into the couch, she guided her dripping hole over his long tongue. She felt it slip in, and shivered, then kept pushing down, down until his tongue was completely inside her, then even further, so her whole weight was forcing him right against her. The grit of his teeth made her grind just a little rougher, and she watched him take each thick, slippery drip down his tongue and into his throat. Again, he swallowed, and she groaned. A deep, passionate rumble born of lust.

"Good boy," she hissed. "But not as good as..." she realized she had slipped, and looked down. He held her apart with two fingers, while the other hand had moved back to his hardness. "Turned on, are we?"

He moaned, and muffled some response into her. She got even wetter, squatting into his mouth, the strain on her thighs pulling her apart further. He must be drowning, she thought.

Pulling off of his mouth, she only took a second to see herself glistening on him in the dark room. She turned, and sat down, pulling herself to the edge of the couch. "Come here."

He spun around, and lowered his mouth back to her. "MMMMmmmmm." Casually, she threw one leg over his shoulder, and lifted the other one up, bent and propped against the side cushion. His mouth went back to work, opening and closing, moving side to side... his tongue slipping in and out, and he would occasionally suck, even slurp, at her.

Her fingers reached behind his head, then held him against her. She wanted to be sure he couldn't move away... "So let me tell you what happened." His moan seemed almost disapproving, upset even, and when she looked down at him, she saw his eyes seemed slightly panic-stricken. He probably hadn't expected her to actually do anything. But his shoulder was still rising and falling rhythmically, and she could hear the light pop of his wetness as he got himself off.

"Mmmmm. Jack off that cock of yours, boy. Let me see it, let me see you getting off while I tell you about... sucking, that army guy." He squirmed, but her tight grip just adjusted him even deeper into her. She could feel his every breath hiss through his nose, his tongue probe every part of her hot core. Sucking, sloppy, at her wetness while he breathed in, warming it as he breathed out. God it felt good.

"So I was down at the base. With the girls." Knowing what she was about to do made her even hungrier, and she started grinding, thrusting, rhythmically, against his open mouth. He followed the determined rise and fall of her hips. "God, those guys are hot. You with those little business suit and tie outfits...but them. That camo, and all that gear. Starched, ready to fight, ready to take on anything. They were fit, and trained. Unlike you... these were men."

Leaning to the side and looking down, she could see his hand moving. Because he was kneeling, it looked even smaller, almost lost in the pull and push of his hand, and the V of his undone zipper. His head was glistening bright red; it was revealed every time he pulled down, and a little more precum made it shine all the brighter. She wondered if he would keep going once she got to the details. She leaned back, listening to the rustle of his hand against his shirt, and the slick pop as he sucked one of her lips into his mouth and teased it with his tongue.

"So the girls...we each picked a man. Joking, laughing. Mine was about my height... thinner than the rest, but he was running faster. He was clearly a leader. The others followed his every twist and turn." And he had been hot, too. A fine, sculpted figure... with a strong Italian face. She had no remorse for what she had done. What she had done to him. "It started to get late, and they headed into the barracks. The girls headed back to their cars, and I told them I'd take my own car home. But my boy... pardon, my man, he stayed out to clear up some stuff. And he came right up the bleachers."

She looked down again. All she could see was the top of his hair, and the occasional flash of her fingers in his dark curls. Her knees were both bent, and spread wide... so that only the very top of his nose slipped from the top of her mound with every thrust. She watched, both hands tight against him, as she massaged him into it. He was more intense with himself now, too... one hand holding down his trousers as the other jackhammered back and forth. She could see from the angry redness, and thick swelling, of his head, that he was going to explode.

"Do you want to hear what happened, honey?" she added sarcastically. "Do you?" His head nodded almost indiscernibly, but she felt his hummed answer reverberate deep into her.

"Look at me, then," his eyes opened and peered up. He must have been imagining what she had done. "If you want to know... you have to pay a small... price. Lick. My. Ass."

She pushed him back briefly, then shuffled down even further so her neck was pressed into the middle of the cushion. She could still see... as she lifted her hips lewdly. This was her kink. Well, one of them. And she knew he'd have to go for it.

As she watched, his face pulled away from her. She was so wet strings of come dripped from his mouth to her lips. He kept his tongue out, slick. And with an imperceptible nod, lowered his head... and then she felt it. The sheer taboo of it sent a shiver up her body. His tongue slipped over each tiny bump, each tiny crease in that forbidden bud. "Stick it in," she hissed. And... he did.

Squirming, reveling in the dark sensation, she let his tongue glide over her, then push, hard, trying to maneuver into that tightness. And when it would slip in... she relaxed, taking him deeper. His mouth was against her asshole. And still, he was getting himself off. At that moment, another, even darker, memory, rose to the surface. Later, she thought, then began her story again.

"I wanted him. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to suck him. So when he came up...well-" his tongue pushed in again and she thrust, desperate, against him. "-My legs were open. He could see me. See every detail and fold, the wetness that I'm having you suck from me now."

"We hardly even talked. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw that the field was empty. Then he asked, no, ordered, me to 'get on my knees.' And I did. Because he was a man." She couldn't take it anymore. Her heat was crying out, and while his tongue circled her ass... she pulled him back into her, rubbing her nose so that it slipped into her sopping hole. Thrusting, forcing her come back onto his face. She was going to drown this boy, her... bitch. And all the while he would be jacking himself off, wanting her to fuck his face.

"So there I was. On my knees, night falling. Kneeling before this rippling form of a man, smelling his sweat, lost in the pattern on his camo. I hear the scratch of Velcro, and he undid his belt, then I saw it. I saw his dick."

His face was buried in her, and she knew he could hardly breathe, but she kept fucking him. Feeling his nose dip into her, almost bubbling as he breathed, and his tongue, now sucking at her puckered asshole. Her whole body clenched and unclenched. She reached a hand down, remembering her evening with the private, remembering the taste of him. Then, with one slick finger, she started rubbing her clit, matching her pace against her boy's face, feeling her nail scratch over his forehead as she humped him.

"He was huge. It practically uncurled as he pulled it out. His head was thick, and he wasn't even hard yet but longer than that," she pulled a hand out of his hair and gestured loosely towards his crotch. His pace was furious, his hand slick, his come practically streaming out and lubricating his hand until the squelch squelch squelch of it was impossible to ignore. "And his balls. They just sat there, so big, crowning everything. Shaved like everything else. This was a true man. I leaned forward, and took them into my mouth, hearing him sigh as my tongue toyed with each of them."

"I could feel his dick getting hard. It grew, sliding up my face, so impossibly big. I could feel every vein on him pulsing. And then he put his hands in my hair, pulling me back, and rubbing the tip of it on my mouth. Without words, telling me to open up. And I did. He slid it into my mouth, which I had to open so wide my jaw still hurts. But I liked it. I tasted him like that, I sucked on him, until he was at his hardest. Just like I made you do to me earlier, when I made you kneel, I grabbed your head and fucking took your mouth."

She was burning up, getting so damned close, feeling the screaming pulse as fluid seemed to pump from some deep part of her, building up to be released. "Then he sat down. And like you, I turned, and started to suck him off. He was dying for it. I could hear him laugh and lean back to watch this girl suck him. Taste him. Take his come, which he whispered would drown me."

Her finger was flicking almost impossibly fast now. "Move your mouth back up. Move it up, boy! And open wide... I want you to take this like he made me take him." His mouth left the secret, wet folds of her ass and moved up to her heat. He must have practically suffocated. But she didn't care. She was going to fuck him. To drown him. Still getting herself off, her other hand pulled him in so tight she could feel his nose slip and bend with each of her hard thrusts.

"I was on my knees, taking this gigantic dick in my mouth. Lets see yours..." Awkwardly, he scooted over, his face still caught between her heaving thighs, but she could see how close he was as it pulsed, angry and red, glistening, his hand almost a blur. "But I couldn't take all of it. He pushed so hard into my mouth that I gagged, but I let him. I let him take me. My hands were on his knees, caught in the rough fabric of his camo, as his hand pumped my head up and down. But even then, I could only take half, so he moved his other hand to the bottom of his shaft. And jacked off into my mouth."

With that comment, her boy groaned into her, and she opened her legs, fucking him as hard as she could. She was delirious, now, sinking back to earlier that night and repeating his exact words to her. "Are you going to take this? HUH? Are you going to take my come?" Her bitch nodded, face turning red from how little he could breathe. "SAY IT!" He gurgled, just like she had, and she laughed.

She couldn't even talk now, eyes glazed over and humping his mouth, jerking herself off into his mouth. "Look at this, LOOK!" She pulled down her shirt, and showed him the light stain. "I couldn't even take all of his come, but you had better take all of mine." She closed her eyes now, feeling the wideness of his mouth slipping over her hole. Remembering that private as his groans got deeper and darker, until...

THERE. One shot pumped straight into the back of her throat, and she screamed, feeling her stomach tense, her body let loose. THERE. Another, filling her mouth, and the room spun, the flood begin to pulse and squirt. THERE. The private had pulled out and shot a long strand of his thick, army cum right over her face, over her eye, and down her shirt. That same familiar warmth splashed on her leg now. Through slitted eyes, she looked down and caught the flash of him, pulling down hard, moaning into her, as spurt after heavy spurt shot from him. She pulled her finger out from the slick mess below his forehead and grabbed his hair, pulling him in with both hands so he'd swallow it all. THERE.

THERE! "Shoot more for me!"

"Swallow all of it!!!"

THERE!! 

Her world shattered. She felt every throb and pulse as her heat streamed out, every slurp and gulp as he swallowed her. His ears almost crunchd between her thighs as she squeezed him. And then...

Nothing. She was gone, soaring out somewhere far above the ceiling. Her hands let go of his hair, and he pulled back with a gasp. Her thighs shivered, and then, like the aftermath of an explosion, all her dissipated heat came crashing back into one intense, burning ember. She sat there, burning, shuddering for a few moments. Her core was on fire, clenching and unclenching like some forbidden flower. She opened her eyes, and as the room stopped spinning, and gained focus, she noticed the white wetness on her shin. His come... it was all over the carpet, too. He was kneeling, still, forearm on her knee, and panting. "Clean," she hissed, and lifted her leg up to his mouth.

She was fascinated with his submissiveness. She watched him intently as his mouth opened, without hesitation, and pressed against his own come. She felt the suction on her and heard the slurp as he took his own mess into his mouth. It felt... delicious. He had to take all of it. This was about her, and feeling him taste that brought the earlier, darker memory back to the surface. And, judging from the sudden pulse, the deeper, even more violent surge inside her, she realized she wasn't finished.

"Lie down."

As he rearranged himself, she pulled off her shirt and slipped out of her skirt. This fire was even more intense than the last. She knew she could have her way... and now, she was going to have it.

"Pull down your jeans all the way." He obliged, shuffling the denim down to his ankles. His dick was shrinking, still slippery and glistening, like a forbidden toy. She smirked, watching the skin bump over the ridge of his head, then sat down, straddling his knees, and grabbed it in her hand hard, revealing it all again. "We're going to have to get this little guy going again... and I know how you like stories. Let me tell you another." She started squeezing her hand around him, and felt a light pulse in response. "Today... it was one guy. But in the past... I had two."

He groaned and seemed to try and pull away, but the twitch in her hand let her know what he really wanted. He was growing again, now. "That's right. I had two army guys. Magnificent, buff, fucking amazing guys. They were both shipping off and just crashed my place the night before. And I knew what they wanted, because they showed me. They just unzipped their pants right there, pulled themselves out. And you know I had to. I saw how big they were, and how much I ache for army dick-" He twitched again, he was almost there now. She couldn't believe it. Here she was, telling her man her story, of her lust for army guys, and how she had indulged herself in the past. And it was getting him off. It was making him hard. Her hand was stroking him, now, feeling the velvety hardness of his dick, and the squelch that was starting again. She stared at it, watching as she continued her dark, evil story... and she felt her own pulse grow hotter, more urgent. 

Soon, she thought.

"God they tasted good. I just shuffled forward on my knees and took it right in my mouth. The whole thing. I wanted to feel him get hard in my throat. I jacked the other one off with my hand, like this-" she stroked him more slowly. "-except it was bigger. I could barely fit my hand around it. You have no idea how that felt, having one cock growing, filling your mouth, making you almost gag, while another grows in your hand." He was so close to being ready for her, now... she wanted him to hurry, and reached her spare hand down and cupped his balls, rolling them slowly, but firmly, in her palm. "And you know the best part? They were wet. They hadn't gotten any in so damned long on base, and they knew I'd take their come. Their balls were so full they were leaking. And I sucked it all, as much as I could, at least. I'd pull off of one, feeling his juice still stringing from my lips, then take the other, deep in my throat. I'd swap back and forth, quickly, sometimes focusing on one then the other."

He was moaning now, his head growing slick and impatient, his ass coming up off the floor to meet each thrust of her hand. "But my favorite... my favorite was taking both. They'd stand right next to each other, and push at my mouth, stretching it open so I had two heads, two army dicks, right inside my mouth. I'd lick them, taste each, tease that little spot..."

Her hand stopped moving, and she looked back down at him. She'd gotten so lost in her story she'd forgotten what she wanted. What she needed. Smirking down at him, she scooted up, still holding him. With her knees on the floor, and her entrance poised right at the pulsing tip of him, she took it. Down she pushed, and felt his head slip into her, with hardly any resistance. And it went deep, quick. She let go of him and sat all the way down, burying his hardness in her. She could feel the twitch and pulse of it, now lost in the wet furnace of her core.




Falling



She started to grind against him, feeling it circle and spin inside her, the rustle of his pubic hair teasing her clit. Trying to hit it better, she leaned forward, and there. That was it. That was the spot. Careful not to let him slip from her, she started to pull and push a little more, feeling the thickness of his head go in and out, down and around. When she'd push down, she'd grind her mound against him hard, feeling the juice run out of her, and the electric twinge on her most secret bump.

The memory was burning now. Even though he only barely touched that place... it came flooding back. Literally. She leaned down lower, her long, red-tinted hair covering his face, and she could feel the suck and pull of it as he gasped and groaned for air. "I didn't just suck them, honey," she smirked. "I let them fuck me. One went behind me, lifted me off the ground, and started taking me from behind. It almost hurt when he shoved it in, but I was sopping. He just took me, making me moan while I choked on the other officer. And they laughed. The liked it."

He was her bitch now. Again. But this time she was actually fucking him. Her arm tightened around his neck, and she started thrusting against him, the sound of it sloppy now, as she slammed herself down onto his balls. Leaning up a bit, her breasts were in his face. "Suck them." And he did. 

She made sure he wouldn't forget. "MMmmmm. How is my bitch liking this, huh? You realize that you're licking right where he came earlier. Good boy, good fucking boy."

He groaned and almost bit down into her nipple. But she liked it. "You remember the first time I let you suck me? And you felt so proud of yourself? Do you really want to know why I was so swollen, so red, and so damned hot?"

She pushed herself all the way down and gyrated her clit in the rough patch above his now-buried shaft. He was going to hear this. He was going to take it. The room was eerily silent, when she whispered..." That was the day I fucked them. That was the day I took both of them."

The memory of it and the evilness of what she was doing was real now. It was burning inside her, and she was letting it out, all over him. She was so lost in the release of it she almost missed his sigh, his cry. He was hers.

"Oh Goddddd. You're going to jack off to this later, aren't you?" He nodded into her hair. "One pulled me down, and without warning, just shoved a finger in. Back there." Laughing, now, she reached behind her, slid a finger down past his balls, and shoved a finger hard into his ass. He almost screamed, bucking up into her with such shock that he almost threw her off. "Ah, oh... Not even close. They were so much fucking bigger, their dicks went so much deeper... and they were far too fucking manly to take that." She pulled her finger out, smiling, then started to ride him, to take him, again.

"We were on the floor. One pulled me down onto him, my back on his chest. He just pushed it in... and I couldn't handle it. I thrashed. But I didn't move, because I wanted it. It went in so damned deep, I could feel myself stretching. It went where no one had before, and you never will."

Her bitch was writing now, but she held him down, both hands digging into his shoulders, enjoying the savageness of his new thrusts. As his hips tried to slide away from her, she fucked him harder, feeling it circle while she pumped him. "But that wasn't all. I watched, eyes slitted, moaning my heart out while this guy fucked my ass... as the other officer beat himself off, watching me take it. But then he leaned down. He bent his knees, almost squatting. And god he was ripped. I could see the muscle flex through his camo. Good lord, the camo. The rustle of it was enough to make me come, and I had lost count already."

"Here I was. Being fucked by two of the army's best. He shoved it into me, and again, I screamed. But this time I took it. I bit my lips so hard it bled, honey. I wanted it that bad. I felt his dick slide in, and I leaned up, putting my hands flat on the ground, to watch both their shafts plunging, in and out, in and out. Hard. Taking me, like I'm taking you, bitch."

She was lost in it again. Completely lost to her boy, aside from his hardness inside of her, drawing her to the edge. She just shouted out the story now. "I could feel them. They rubbed together inside of me. As one pushed in, the other would pull out, and I was gone. I was in a kind of heaven you'd never taken me to. I wasn't even moaning, it was just one constant groan from deep, deep in my throat, that stuttered as they slammed into my stomach."

She was so close. So fucking close. Her head was spastic, hair whipping from side to side. "And they kept taking me. Both of them penetrating my fucking soul with their hard, juicy, grunting army meat. You should of heard the wetness of it, the sound of them, of me."

She stopped now. Quivering, and leaned back, grinding his hardness as deep as he could give it, circling and reaching down to make herself come. To jizz all over his dick, to make him feel how damned wet this made her. "As if on cue, they both pulled out. I just lay there on the floor, dazed and naked. You know what they did? I said, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT THEY DID?!?"

His eyes were closed and he, too, was thrashing, lifting his back up to push his hardness into her. She judged the sudden grit of his teeth to mean 'yes.'

"They came on me. And I wanted it. Oh god I wanted it. They shot it all over me, I could feel it splash on my stomach, my breasts, on my face and on my mouth, and I swallowed it all. My body fucking absorbed it. They came and came and came... oooooooooohhhhh GOOOODDDDDDDD!!!"

THERE! Her fingers, flashing through her wetness, shuddered as she did.

THERE!! She felt him seize up, and felt a flood meet hers, a warmer, thick wetness.

THERE!!!!!!!!

Two army men. Fucked her. Drilled her. Took her. Wave after wave of pleasure splashed out of her, and she was so dazed and overwhelmed she pushed off her boy, falling to the floor. Shuddering. Staring up at the ceiling. Watching it spin as the deep, intense memory overwhelmed her quivering, flaming body. Then, again, she was gone. This time further. This time deeper. Up, up, and beyond the ceiling. Losing focus, losing vision, and just...

Falling.



Falling



Truth was floating.

Or at least, that was how it seemed. 

Verité hung suspended in the air, the silk wrapped sensuously about the cradle of her thighs, tugging upwards with the familiar strain against her armpits. She shifted suddenly, for one perilous moment hovering only by the strong grip of her thighs, trusting to the tenacity of the cloth, until she hung upside down. The long double strand of vibrant silk was wrapped now just above her ankles, not knotted, but wrapped with a precise knowledge of exactly how much weight it could hold at exactly what angle before it would start to slide. She stretched luxuriously, letting her arms fall heavy past her head. This was freedom.

She wasn't supposed to be in here alone, certainly wasn't supposed to be setting up her equipment and practicing without a spotter, but she'd felt the need for that freedom. She couldn't create, couldn't dream, with someone there watching her; it was like giving birth with an audience. But for now, she wasn't trying to create, wasn't trying to choreograph a new routine. She had some ideas, of course, based on the overall theme of the story, but until she had heard more of the music, she wasn't going to explore the half-formed thoughts twining gracefully through the silk that threaded her mind.

No, tonight she just needed to breathe. 

The comfortable ache began to settle into her hips, stretched with the weight of keeping her suspended twenty feet above the firm mats covering the floor. The mats wouldn't keep her from breaking anything if she fell, not from this height, but they might stop some of the bleeding. At the very least, they would protect the stage floor. 

She reached for the silk that emerged from the wrap at her ankles and brought it to her face, breathing in the clean, slightly sweaty smell of the cloth. She could feel a slight burn on her thighs and knew that she should have put on leggings underneath her brief practice leotard, but she had wanted to feel the fabric against her skin. That skin wasn't soft, no, not after so many years of calluses and abrasions, but the silk was a whisper in the dark, a caress against the most delicate parts of her. She took another deep breath, the smell of the silk filling her lungs.

The colors changed sometimes, but the smell did not. Sometimes, it was a flame-pitched red, a slash of blood against the flesh colored costume and shadowed lighting, and she was burning. Sometimes, it was a splash of blue, a soothing river flowing down amidst shifting patterns and colors, and she was drowning. And sometimes, like now, it was a deep green, a vibrant green, the color of old jungles and fresh life, and she was breathing. The colors were always vivid, always bright, and she was nearly always in something so sheer, so close to the alabaster shade of the skin that rarely saw sunlight, that she almost seemed nude within the brilliant spill of cloth. There were times when it even felt that way, when the whisper of silk against her thin costume brought with it the sensation of whispers against her skin itself.

Which was why she'd put no leggings on tonight; she needed those whispers, that soft edge that enhanced- rather than broke- the silence.

She really should have had a spotter here, to double check that the rigging was as it should be, but Verité firmly believed that no artist should trust equipment that they did not know how to set up. Trust in others was essential, but so were your own eyes; you needed to be able to see immediately if something, anything, was out of place. So she had rigged the equipment herself, triple testing every pulley, every knot, every wire, until she knew that falling would be the closest thing to heaven she could feel, with no fear that the drop could not be halted, could not be contained. She could fall freely with perfect control, a contradiction that suited her entire life.

Verité knew, in a vague sort of way that she was striking. Striking in the way a diamond against a bed of black velvet was striking, or a flash of lightning against the night was striking. Her skin was too pale in natural lighting, but with the smooth mask of make-up and the reflection of pulsating lights, you couldn't see the delicate blue veins that pulsed sedately under the translucent skin, couldn't see the blood tracing its path through eyelids so thin they seemed bruised. Her eyes were often the only color at all in her face, large and wide and distrusting, the same vibrant and brilliant green as the silk smoothing against her skin. She was a study in contrasts, physically as well as mentally. Pure color against the pure lack, set off by a spill of black curls that tumbled just past her shoulders when down. She could already feel her hair fighting against the pins and knew that she would have to be ever so slightly more careful once it fell, make sure it didn't get tangled in the silk. 

They were her father's eyes, her mother's hair. Her father's cheekbones, her mother's mouth. Her father's height and her mother's slenderness. All the traits of the parents she couldn't remember. They'd died in an auto accident when she was only two, and over the years, their faces had faded to a vague recital of features from photographs whose edges were crumbling with love and tears. She'd been sent to live with an eccentric aunt who shaved her head and referred to everyone and everything in the masculine. 

But, Tante Bernadette had woven magic with her fingers, creating a net so fine as to entrance a little girl who dreamed of flying: she worked as a costumer for Cirque de Soleil. Verité had grown up in the circus, learned its secrets with every breath she took. She learned to read and write, and all her basic skills, but her dreams never shifted away from that indescribable feeling of flight. As soon as she was old enough to tuck herself into a tight ball and stay that way, she'd become part of the games, of the warm ups, the ball they tossed around to prepare for the greater concentration of their pieces. They would none of them hurt a child, and so they took tremendous care never to drop her. It happened, of course, as such things inevitably will, and from that she learned to tolerate the pain that training always provided. 

She had been the child that shadowed the other players on stage, the miniature version, the echo of the real character. She had jumped rope, she had been a clown prop, she had done so many things, but she hadn't come home until she had felt the kiss of silk and the fear of the fall.

But, in truth, Verité had yet to fall. She had tumbled, she had dropped, she had lost her grip and sank, but she had never fallen. She had never allowed herself to do so. La Verité, many called her, The Truth, as if that cold Form would explain the distance she engendered, the walls she built between herself and anyone else. And it was true, in its way; she was very careful about whom she dated, on the rare occasions she chose to do so, and she never dated anyone from the company. She was cold, and suspended, and had yet to fall. 

She twined the silk about her waist, wrapping it gently and tightly, until she was in a cocoon of emerald light.

Unbeknownst to Verité, there was someone else in the theatre that night. His eyes were not brilliant, were not bright and vivid, but rather dark and stormy, the tumbling shadows and midnight and nightfall rains. He watched her from the back row, well hidden because she had turned on no more light than she absolutely required. He watched her hang, watched her float serenely on a cloud of silk, and was more determined than ever to make her fall.

Nikolai had also grown with the circus, though he had come to it at a later age than she. He and his brothers and cousins, as well as some of their friends, had been a tight-knit act, and the rest of them were still, the flying birds and the porters, the jumpers and flyers that defied gravity with flips and tosses and the inexplicable trust that someone would catch them. He'd been ten when he first joined Cirque de Soleil. But as he grew older, it became obvious that he had inherited his father's stronger build, where most of his brothers and cousins continued in their mother's willowy grace. So, little Nikolai had been taken under wing, and encouraged to explore, and found things in which he could excel and delight. He often played in the German Wheel, and couldn't understand why hamsters were thought of so derisively for their sport in their own wheels. And he, too, learned to fly, in silk and Spanish Web and elastic tethers. 

Deciding that Verité had floated long enough, he stood and made his way silently down to the main level of the audience, his bare feet falling with soft grace against the raked floor. He had expected that she would come during the night, though he hadn't been sure which night. She did that frequently, when she thought the celebration of a show well done would mean she wouldn't be missed. And so he had prepared, and not let her see those preparations.

Nikolai rolled onto the stage, standing off to the side where he released the string keeping two lengths of flaming silk from the main stage. They swept across the floor now, hanging just behind Verité, who was too lost in her own world to hear the added shushing of the cloth. He'd had to be extremely careful in rigging it, to figure out how to set it safely without her seeing it. He'd finally draped the pulleys with black mesh and fire cloth, and she'd left it alone.

Shucking his shirt, clad only in the clinging nylon practice pants, he walked confidently across and seized the scarlet fabric, pulling himself gracefully up to just behind the dreaming French woman. They were young still, she more so than him, and dreams were to be lived, not filed away in a wisp of memory and cloud and silk. Anchoring his feet in the fabric, he reached out and grasped her hips.

With a startled gasp, Verité partially lost her grip on the silk, the wraps about her waist loosening dangerously. If she'd turned, twisted, even slightly, they could have caused an injury when they tightened from the theft of slack. Wide eyes stared up at him, but he held her securely, until her instinctive questing could result in a renewed purchase in the fabric. "Nikolai! You scared me half to death!"

"I know," he told her with a small grin. His fingers searched through her hair, pulling out the pins and letting them drop to the mats far below, until the wealth of curls tumbled forward over her shoulders.

"Stop that," she snapped crossly, batting his hand away. He was constantly trying to surprise her, either with actions or small gifts. Tante always smiled and commented on how très mignon it all was, but Verité didn't want to think it was cute. She didn't want to smile when she saw him, she didn't want to feel that lurch deep in her chest when he gave her one of his slow, knowing smiles. She didn't want to fall.

"How do you get so far away?"

"I'm right here."

"Physically," he agreed easily. He gripped the green silk above her hands, his feet creating wraps in her cloth that tangled with his. She wouldn't realize immediately that she was trapped, but she would understand soon enough. "But I do not think you have ever truly been here."

"You speak of nothing," she murmured. 

One hand released the fabric, smoothing along her sculpted cheek. Without even realizing she did so, she leaned into his touch, her eyes half-closing against the sensation. "Will you not fall with me?"

"Never."

His low chuckle ripped through her, so close to the source of the sound and the amusement. "Never, Verité, is a very long time."

"Why do you do this to me?"

She had asked him that before, many times, and his answer was never the same. Often, it was merely a joke, a lighthearted comment that frustrated her even as it burned a place within her mind. But there was no smile in his stormy eyes as he looked at her now, no trace of the laughter that only moments before had colored his voice. 

"Because you need me to," he whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips against her ear. "Because I want to. Because you fear to fall, and never should."

"Please do not do this thing to me."

"Then tell me to go."

It was on the tip of her tongue, the tip of her tongue that was between her teeth and poised for speech, but traitorous muscle that it was, she could not make it move. So she trusted instead to the muscles that could not betray her and tried to twist about in the silk. And then the fly understood the spider's methods; his feet, his limbs, trapped the silk beneath her. She could no more drop than she could fly in truth, for he prevented her progress.

His breath was warm on her neck, ghosting across her ear to raise the fine tendrils of hair on the back of her neck. "If you fall, beautiful one, do you trust me to catch you?"

"Trust is your thing, not mine."

There was that chuckle of again, the soft press of his lips against her skin. "How can you do what you do, live in the company in which you live, and not trust that someone will be there for you?"

"Nikolai, please..."

"Even if only once, let me catch you. Just once," he whispered, his hands at her waist pulling her flush against him. 

She gasped again; there was no question of what he was asking her, and she could feet the blood boiling in her cheeks, a painful burn that she knew he could see. Verité was not a virgin, but she had never enjoyed sex; it had never left any particular impact upon her. But she knew, without a doubt she knew, that Nikolai could excite things in her she preferred left dormant. And she knew, too, that if she said no, he would abide by it. She had asked him not to, but she hadn't told him no.

And she couldn't.

Nikolai made her feel like she was floating and falling at the same time, a sensation she only otherwise got when the sudden recoil of the silk catching snapped her out of a drop. He had had this effect on her for years, and always they'd only prowled around the edges of that sensation, of that desire.

Nikolai wasn't prowling, but he wasn't the one that had to fall.

She shuddered and dropped her head into the curve of his shoulder, her curls tickling his bare chest. "I'm scared," she confessed quietly.

"I will catch you."

"That is what scares me."

For answer, he captured her mouth tenderly with his, not pushing her, just a soft pressure against her until she relaxed into him. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Verité." He kissed her again, moving gently against her, until her lips parted ever so slightly beneath his. There, suspended in the colorful silks, he kissed her until she melted against his chest, each kiss deepening until their tongues danced together in a graceful give and take. 

Nikolai shook his feet out of the silks and thrust his legs quickly between hers, arching into a split that allowed him to recapture the fabric and anchor himself once more. She was now straddling him, her entire weight resting upon his but for what she supported with the grip of her hands. Her thighs tightened about him automatically, cinching his waist. He was now at the perfect level to lick and kiss a tortuous path down her neck.

Her eyes slipping closed, she tilted her head back to give him better access. She was still hesitant, still reluctant, but once she committed to something, she always saw it through. She breathed slowly into the trail of fire igniting wherever his lips touched. She could feel the fine trembling in his arms as his muscles held him perfectly in place, hovering twenty feet off the floor. His mouth moved lower, to where her nipples were digging tight peaks into the thin material of her leotard. He licked through the fabric, damp stains spreading outwards. There really was no such thing as a busty Cirque performer; their bodies were put through too much activity and strain to allow fat to form, but though her chest could barely claim a curve to it, she found her nipples to be no less sensitive when he caught them gently between his teeth.

She moaned low in her throat, arching up into him, wanting to feel him against her skin. He was like the caress of the silk, she needed to feel him against every part of her. 

But Nikolai made no attempt to push her leotard off her shoulders, or in any way shift the fabric. He bit and teased, suckled through the thin layer between them, until the grip of her legs around his waist grew painful. 

"Be nice," she cautioned him, her voice too breathy to convey any true sense of warning.

"Nice?" he echoed, arching an eyebrow at her. "Next you will tell me to be good."

"Do you not intend to be?"

"Oh, I intend to be very good," he promised, sending a delightful shiver through her. There was something so wrong about this, something truly in error in using the freedom of the silks as foreplay. But then, Verité had always been so careful not to date within the company; she would have had no reason to know. "Hang for me."

"What?"

"Like you were earlier," he urged. "Upside down, and free to the world."

She looked like she was about to protest, so he bit down teasingly on her breast, blowing a warm breath against the cool dampness. With another shudder, she pulled free of him and twisted about in the silk until it was twined about her hips, the ends dangling from her ankles and her hair hanging down. She was facing him, as she hadn't been before, but he hadn't changed position except to secure his ankles more clearly. "Nik-"

"Sssh..." His hands released the crimson material and smoothed across her long legs, his calloused fingers dragging against her pale skin. 

God, he could smell her, his face just a breath away from her arousal. She should have been wearing leggings but wasn't, and there was nothing between her and the world more than a flimsy scrap of mostly sheer fabric, now grown damp with her feeling. He wrapped his arms about her thighs, giving himself the balance not to fall back, and pulled the fabric away from her. She was beautiful there, pale and flushed and glistening, with nothing to hide from him how she felt. Her words could lie, her face could sometimes lie, but she could not masquerade in this way. He took a deep breath, inhaling the unique scent of her for the first time, and blew a cheeky breath across her. 

She gasped and swore, such an unaccustomed word in her that he almost did it again just to see if she would repeat it. 

He lapped at her in one broad stroke, gathering her taste and moisture on his tongue. She was sweet and musky, and tasted slightly of sweat, a salty tang that clung to his taste buds. She squirmed against him and he smiled, giving her what she wanted, what he wanted to give her. What he had wanted to give her since they were barely teenagers, and he had first seen her fly. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris, whipping the sensitive nub until it flushed against his mouth. She was starting to shake, to tremor, and he sucked on it strongly to send a jolt of arousal shooting through her. 

He devoured her with pent-up hunger, his tongue stabbing into her and licking against the spongy walls of her channel. His fingers spread her for him, his chin moving strongly against her clit as she rocked against him. Her arms gripped his calves almost painfully, her voice fleeing her in breathy little gasps and cries. Just when he felt her begin to quake against him, he drew away, his mouth and chin gleaming with the essence of her. 

"Nikolai!" she cried, her eyes snapping open.

"You have to fall for the rest, Verité. You have to trust me to catch you."

Furiously, she swiveled in the embrace of the silk, letting it curve around her, cradle her. Hide her.

Barely daring to hope, Nikolai slid down the length of crimson, his feet hitting the mats with soft thumps. He stood there for several long, terrifying moments, staring up at her and afraid she wouldn't come. Then, so slowly he almost thought he might have been imagining it, the emerald curtain snuck away and the swathes of silk wove through her thighs and armpits and lowered her slowly towards the floor.




Falling



Verité hated coming down to the ground; she felt infinitely more clumsy, immeasurably graceless when her feet were flat on the floor. But her feet didn't touch the floor; Nikolai caught her around the waist before she could land, and lifted her gently away from the clinging touch of the silk. Kneeling with her in his arms, he laid her on the mats, her hair fanning around her.

"I told you," he breathed. His hands tugged at the straps of the leotard, peeling it off her body and pushing it away from them. She lay entirely naked against the faded blue mats, eying the bulge in the dance pants that couldn't conceal even a passing interest.

"You did," she agreed breathlessly. "And now I have fallen."

"No," he corrected, his voice hoarse. "You have only begun to fall."

He worshipped her with his mouth and hands until she was writhing on the floor, begging in her native French for him to stop torturing her. She clutched at the slithery material, her voice cracking in her desperation. Finally, he yanked off the pants and lay flush against her, hard and heavy against her thigh. "Do you feel yourself falling?"

"Nikolai, please!"

Laughing wickedly, he tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her savagely, claiming her. She was his now, should have been his for a long time, and he intended to teach her that. She kissed him back with equal ardor, this silent little shadow whose only other passion was for silk and weightlessness. One hand roamed down her body, two fingers slipping inside her to test her readiness. She was soaking, her hips rocking against his hand as he stroked her inside and out. 

"Guide me," he hissed, groaning as her hand wrapped tightly about him. She hooked one leg around his hip and gently pulled him towards her, rubbing the head of his cock against her dripping slit. "Don't tease."

"But you are the one who taught me how."

Grinning in spite of himself, he pushed her hand away and placed himself against her opening, looking her steadily in the eye. "You shouldn't have made me wait so long, Verité."

"Nikolai, please," she pleaded, her voice so thin he could barely hear her. 

He entered her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him as he slid into her depths. Her eyes fluttered closed and he could see the pulse throbbing at the base of her neck. Keeping still within her, he reached up and suckled that butterfly movement, feeling it speed up even further. She sobbed his name; would he never stop torturing her! 

Nikolai finally began moving against her, his hips pistoning slowly. She was so damn tight around him, and he was actually a little worried about hurting her, but he could see no sign of pain in her flushed face. He pulled her other leg up around his waist, bracing himself on his forearms so he could trace wet paths about her tiny breasts with his tongue. He knew he was being cruel, but he didn't want her walking away from him, didn't want her to have any excuse to pretend she wasn't affected by him. This was the only chance he would have to get under her skin.

She sighed under his attentions, arching her chest up to his nimble tongue as it wrapped around her nipple. He flexed his jaw, drawing strongly upon the darker flesh, and she felt sparks smolder into flame. Her hands smoothed over his back, soothing the heated flesh, pulling against him to encourage him. His cock in her was marvelous, heavy and thick and long, but this slow pace was maddening. She dug her nails into his back and scratched, feeling the skin give way beneath her fingers.

With a hissing breath, he picked up speed, hitting just a little deeper each time. His buttocks clenched and unclenched with each movement, driving into her with her juices easing the way. 

He suddenly buried himself completely inside her, bruising her cervix, and held himself frozen still. She whimpered, past the ability to speak for the whirlwind of sensation overwhelming her. "Wrap your legs tighter," he urged. "Now, Verité! Tighter!"

Helplessly, she did as he said, her thighs gripping his waist so tightly that not a breath of air could pass between them. He rolled them and stood, still buried within her, and twined the crimson silk about her hands and wrists. Only when she was holding her own weight did he start to move within her again. 

Verité cried out, a strangled gasp. The teasing was done now, and he was leaving his mark. She flexed her arms to help her rock against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drove into her. His hands on her hips pulled her up and down with her motion, their skin slapping wetly together. His thumb twisted about until he could rub against her clit, sending her flying over the edge.

She was flying, floating and falling and she was never coming down. She shattered into a million pieces, and only his hands grabbing suddenly for hers kept her grip on the silk intact. 

Nikolai gritted his teeth, riding through the delicious throbbing of her walls clenching around him. He wasn't done with her yet. He held still while she slowly came back to earth, residual spasms still dancing down his shaft. 

"Nikolai, mon Dieu," she breathed. She could still feel him hard within her. 

"How much do you trust me?"

She arched an eyebrow and glanced down to the juncture of their bodies.

"Then lay back."

By this point, she wasn't about to argue. He'd made her feel like never before, and she only wanted it to continue. Tightening every muscle in her body, including a few that made him swear fervently, she held herself perfectly perpendicular to the floor, her arms out to either side and grasping the crimson silk that had been his.

He pulled her legs from about his waist and straightened them into a wide split, wrapping the lengths of emerald fabric about her hips and legs. For good measure, he wrapped them twice about her waist and arms. She was trapped completely in the scarlet and green material, held entirely open for him. She watched him through half-open eyes, a small smile curving her bow-like mouth. 

Grabbing the silk just about her hands, he steadied himself on the balls of his feet, smirking down at her. "Are you ready?"

"Most likely not."

In one fluid motion, he pulled almost all the way out of her and slammed back in, and she buckled against him with an inarticulate cry. There was nothing tender or teasing, only the breathy gasps that tore from their chests as he drove into her. He was killing her, burning her, and she could only urge him on with sharp rolls of her hips and the undulating dance of her inner muscles. She was shattering again, soaring off into that weightless eternity.

When her walls rippled around him for a second time, Nikolai knew he couldn't ride through another one. With a pained groan, he pulled from her just in time, the thick white cream erupting from him onto her stomach and chest. It spurted twice, then a third time, before the drawing sensation eased. 

Neither of them moved; they couldn't have even if they wanted to. The cold air of the theatre slowly dried the sweat of their skin, and she was beginning to feel more than a little dirty with his seed crusting on her stomach. "I told you I would catch you," he murmured, his cheek resting against her chest.

She smiled and nodded. Perhaps falling wasn't so bad after all.



Falling



Beside me she breathed, and giggled, and glanced over at me sideways. Her cheeks were flushed and a light sheen of sweat made her shine - her shoulders, her clavicle, her breasts with their rose-tipped nipples.

I saw her stomach muscles contract as he slid deeper into her, and her fingers found mine, and my body tingled. My chest, my stomach tingled as her fingertips sought my palm and pressed down. I watched her hand clutching mine, saw her body begin to slide back and forth on the bed as he pushed into her, watched her small breasts rising as she arched her back to draw him further into her. And she held my hand, and I looked at her, and her eyes were on mine. I lost my breath for just a moment as we gazed at each other.

The colour in her cheeks rose and she half-closed her eyes but didn't take them off of me, and all I could see was her. I leaned over and kissed her, pulling her bottom lip gently with my teeth - oh god, it was the most beautiful thing. She kissed me back, moving her hand from mine to the back of my head, pulling me in. I could feel her body moving and she kissed me rhythmically, in time with his thrusts, and sucked my lip into her mouth as she moaned. All I could feel was her. All I wanted was her.

I pushed myself up with my arms and lowered myself down on top of her without breaking our kiss. I had to swing my legs around his body to position myself on top of her, and I felt her breasts beneath mine, moved my body down to brush my nipples on hers. I pressed down to her, pressing my stomach to hers, arching my back to keep my hips out of the way of his thrusts. She was twining her tongue with mine, pulling at my lips, and her hands were in my hair to keep me close, keep my mouth on hers. Then her hands were traveling, down my sides, my back, to my hips and ass. She caressed me, and everywhere her hands moved I got shivers, my skin standing at attention, recognizing her magic.

I moved my lips to her cheeks, jaw, then neck, and heard her cry out, her body tensing and then relaxing. I licked at her earlobe and a breathy moan escaped her, so I pulled at it with my teeth and her fingers pressed into my hips. And then I felt him, felt his cock pushing at my entrance. I was wet, so wet, and my ass was high in the air, and he slid in with almost no resistance. I heard her say something, and then he thrust into me hard.

I moaned - my body was ready, I could feel her beneath me warm and slick. My teeth pressed into her neck and I felt her hands pulling at me, spreading me open, as he laid into me, and then: "Kiss me, kiss me," so I did. I pushed my mouth at hers and felt myself slamming into her as he slammed into me, and she kept spreading me open, and licking at my lips and moaning into my mouth.

His cock pushed against my inner walls and she stopped kissing me long enough to say, "Fuck him, fuck him, you're so hot," and I thrust my hips back against him to take him deeper. I cried out then, into her skin, and she grasped me tight by the hips, and he fucked me, and I thrust back into him, hard. I could feel her hand worming between our bodies and I knew she was playing with herself, rubbing her clit with the wetness seeping from between her lips. I gazed at her, and she looked back at me, and all of a sudden I could feel my orgasm building - those bright eyes, green, full of lust, gazing into mine. "I'm going to come," I told her, breathy, and hearing, he slammed into me forcefully, and she said "Yes, yes, yes, come for me, I love you, I love you," and I did. I bit into her shoulder lightly as my cunt clenched around him, and he pulled out, and I collapsed into her.

We kissed, gently, lightly, and she stroked my hair until my shudders stopped; and then I kissed her, lips, jaw, neck, shoulder, breast, nipple, hip, until my lips met her clit, and then I loved her, loved her until she begged for my fingers, until she soaked my hand, until she shuddered to orgasm and told me again that she loved me.

And that is the story of my falling in love with my best friend, one lazy Sunday afternoon after a mimosa-filled brunch with her boyfriend.



Falling



The British summer air was cool and crisp. Charlie inhaled deeply and sighed as he breathed out; opening his eyes he drank in the piercing blue sky. A smile carved its way across his face, only Charlie knew about this place buried in the woods. He had stumbled across this haven when he lost his way jogging as a teenager. The first time he found this place he had lay down and stared at the sky until the stars came out to shine. He didn't want to leave but he had to if he was going to make it to work on time. With a heavy heart Charlie left, already thinking about the next time he would return.





Falling



He moved his hands away from hair; I didn't want him to stop. They brushed past my waist and my eyes flew open to see Danny totally in entranced. Then it hit me "This is Danny. A guy who I could count on for anything... a guy" His hands landed on my trousers and I backed away before I couldn't stop myself. I looked down and found I had a raging hard on, I looked at Danny and he had one too. I dragged my eyes upwards and I found myself locked on to the most wonderful grey eyes.



Falling



We bounced up the rutted road in Jarod's old battered pick-up truck until we reached the top of the hill. It was windy and cool but the sky was as blue as glass and brightly colored leaves cascaded down around us. 

"Get ready," he said when we reached the top of the hill and drove between two gigantic oak trees. The trees opened up into a huge field, flat and open and beautiful. The big old weathered barn stood at the far end like a tired old man. 

"Pretty isn't it?" Jarod asked, almost to himself as he leaned on the steering wheel and gazed out the windshield. There was a hint of pride in his voice.

I had to agree. Even though we both worked for the owner of this property, we were all kind of spellbound by the beauty of this mountainous region.

"Sure is," I said, still curious as to why he'd brought me along to do this simple task.

The truck started moving again and we drove along a pathway around the field ending up right in front of the barn.

"Come on," Jarod said, climbing out of the vehicle.

I zipped up my jacket and tagged along. Now, I don't mind following Jarod anywhere. It gives me a chance to watch the way his jeans hug his lean ass and powerful, muscular thighs. Of course, I don't miss the way those broad shoulders taper into his narrow waist either.

He opened the sliding barn door with a loud squeal which sent startled birds flying everywhere. Inside it was dusty and filled with square bales of hay stacked neatly floor to ceiling. A narrow set of steps ran along one wall and he started in that direction. Again, I followed.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come with me," he said once we were upstairs. 

There was a huge opening on one end that gave us a perfect view of the countryside below and hay was just scattered around loosely on either side of us.

"I was kind of wondering," I said, following him deeper into the shadow of the barn.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned around. We were nose to nose, toe to toe. "I wanted to see if you'd follow through once you had a chance," he said. "I've seen the way you look at me. I can practically read your mind."

"Jarod, I..."

"Kiss me," he said, grabbing the front of my jacket and pulling me even closer. He took off his hat and tossed it aside. 

Those words were music to my ears. I kissed him, nearly drowning in the sensations flooding over me. I loved the way he kissed me back, offering his tongue and then sucking on mine in return. Soon, we were pressing the full length of our bodies together, his raging hardon throbbing against mine.

"Suck me," he gasped when we finally came up for air.

Again, those were exactly the words I wanted to hear, something I'd dreamed about since I'd started working for him. I pushed him toward a nearby pile of sweet smelling hay and we sank down onto it. I kissed him again and again while fumbling with his belt and zipper. Finally, his thick cock was in my hands already leaking pre-come and throbbing steadily.

"God, it's beautiful," I whispered, kneeling between his legs. I spent a few minutes licking his meat from tip to base making sure it was glistening wet before sucking it into my mouth. It felt even better throbbing against my tongue.

Jarod groaned and fucked my face gently. He lifted his ass to allow me to pull his jeans and shorts further down. Now I could spend a few minutes with my tongue on his balls while I worked the wet skin up and down on his dick. He ran his fingers through my short hair and muttered obscenities as I used every trick I knew to please him. This was the chance of a lifetime and I wasn't about to blow it. Pardon the pun.

And I licked my way up to his the head of his cock again, that sweet pre-come was drooling down the sides. I slurped that up, made a tight little ring with my lips and sucked him deep.

"Ah, yes, Jesus," he hissed and began fucking my mouth.

By this time my own cock was ready to explode and I managed to get my pants unzipped so I could jack off while I sucked him. The hay rustled with our steady movements and just when I thought he was going to lose control he stopped.

"Show me how you jack off," he grunted, his fingers sliding up and down his spit slick rod easily.

Still on my knees between his legs, I pushed my jeans down out of the way and pumped my dick steadily with one hand. 

"Do you think about me when you come?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered. "I think about sucking you."

"What if I sucked you?" he asked, the hand on his dick moved faster and his free hand cupped his balls.

"Oh, God," I groaned.

"Or maybe fucked your ass?"

"Yes, oh yes," I breathed. Any minute now, I was going to lose it.

Jarod fucked his fist, his beautiful ass bouncing all over the hay. His sweaty face was a mask of lust and his eyes blazed with desire. "Come for me," he grunted.

That was all it took to send me right over the edge. I groaned in release and emptied my balls in the hay right between his legs.

"Now, finish me off," he said, leaning back and thrusting his crotch in my direction. 

I think he started coming from the moment my hot mouth covered the end of his dick. It was all I could do to swallow his hefty load but I did my best to swallow it all. Then I licked him clean afterward.

"I think the work on this barn is going to take longer than I thought," he whispered, pulling me down beside him. "Much, much longer."



Falling



One minute she was on her feet, blind, bound, and a little off-balance, but at least she was still standing, still in control.

The next she was flying.

Falling...

Back onto the soft bed, chained hands wanting desperately to reach out and catch something to hold onto...but unable to.

She knew it wasn't graceful, the position she'd found herself in. And she knew he was watching her. Staring at her. Taking in every detail of her form. Enjoying the way the tumble had made her legs fall open like a slut who couldn't contain herself.

She could feel him moving closer, feel the heat of his hands even before they wrapped around her arms.

"OVER!" 

Frozen by the certainty that she knew what was coming next she failed to move as quickly as he obviously expected and the hand that grasped her chin was not overly gentle.

"You heard me, slut. Turn over!"

She struggled, bound hands getting in the way, to turn over onto her plump stomach. Without his assistance she doubted she'd have made it. He dragged her by the thighs until they draped over the edge of the bed, her knees not touching the floor.

"Such a sweet slut, such a round little ass. That's my ass to play with, slut. Isn't it?"

The force of his hand coming down on her round white cheek echoed through the room and brought the hoarse 'Yes, sir' out of her constricted throat in a hurry.

"I think that little ass needs some attention."

He moved away for a moment and she was almost afraid he'd changed his mind...and almost hopeful as well. It was always this way. She wanted the pain but she feared it too.

He was back and manipulating her knees onto a pile of blankets so that she could brace herself. Stomach on the bed, knees planted wide on the pile of soft blankets.

The flogger was relentless. Back and forth between cheeks, slapping down with a thud but leaving a trace of sting in its wake.

She squirmed, she cried out. She tried to brace herself for the blows...but he kept throwing her off.

Back and forth from one cheek to the other until her body was bouncing on the soft bed, and the motion of it all went straight to her pussy making her so wet she was sure the blankets beneath her were soaked.

She wanted to cry out 'yellow', to make it slow down, soften or stop, but the thought of him stopping kept her quiet. She knew he loved it when she was taking it for him and so she held on, on the edge of a scream, hoping it would please him.

Eventually the blows softened and stopped. She'd lost count.

"That's a good slut. Such a lovely red ass."

His hand came down softly stroking the burning mound of flesh. She knew she was shaking, shivering, whimpering.

His body draped over hers for a second. The hair on his thighs scratched the sore skin of her ass, and it hurt so much she wanted to throw him off her...but to be held after the pain was what made the pain worthwhile. Knowing that even though he said nothing, he adored her for this kept her quiet and still beneath him.

He left a soft kiss at the base of her spine, where he'd dropped the flogger and moments later she heard the tell-tale sounds of ice in a glass and sighed. 

As he tended to one red-hot cheek then the other she felt shivers overtake her, and only his hand resting softly at the base of her spine kept her grounded. Eventually they stopped and the world began to look familiar again.

He left her there a moment, as she gathered her breath. She could hear him moving about, and began to wonder what was coming next.

"Up on the bed, slut...hands and knees." His voice demanded as though he'd read her mind.

She tried, but needed his help to get there. With a hand on the collar around her neck he turned her...made her crawl across the soft downy bedspread.

It was hard to keep track of where she was with the blindfold throwing her into confusion but when she felt the edge of the bed beneath her chained hands she knew...Knew what was next...

"Suck, bitch..."

His thick, semi-hard cock was hot against her dry lips. Her tongue seeking to wet her lips brushed the head of his cock and sighing she drew it onto her mouth.

She wanted to take him deep, she wanted to make him groan, but he always kept control, rarely rewarding her with the sounds of arousal he was surely suppressing.

She wanted to use her hands to grasp the base of his cock, to steady herself but his hands held her wrists, chains and all, so tightly that she knew it wouldn't be possible even if she could gain enough balance.

He was big enough to stretch her small mouth, just long enough to graze the back of her throat. She fought the urge to pull away, knowing that the sounds she was making were a mix of distress and hunger.

She wanted this, for him. Wanted to know she gave him pleasure. In a way it took away a shred of the helplessness she felt in this position, bound and under his control. As though if she could just suck hard enough, long enough, he would gentle, go easy on her.

A vain hope, born out of the mixed emotions submitting to masculine power gave her. It would never happen. 

"Keep sucking bitch...You don't stop until I say so...Understand?"

His hand, now in her hair...pulling. On her neck, caressing...Back to her head, to push her a little deeper. To guide the rhythm...to make her go faster, deeper...

She knew the garbled sounds of distress coming from her full, stretched mouth only pleased him more.

"I could come in your mouth...I could come all over your face...Such a good cocksucker...But you'd like that, slut. Wouldn't you?"

His voice was hoarse, but almost affectionate. He couldn't quite hide how much he loved that she was doing this. How much pride he had in her. She could feel that pride growing as she tried to answer around his hard cock, but she knew better than to show it. He'd only have to work harder to bring her back to a humbler state.

Fear shot through her with the realization...He always went harder on her after she sucked him...always.

She knew why.

She even knew he had to. How hard it must be for him...all warm and aroused from having her mouth on him, having to bring her back to earth, having to dash the pride without breaking her heart. Knew he had to regain the upper hand.

"Enough, bitch!" 

She let him slip from her dripping wet mouth reluctantly, even though her jaws were aching and it was also a relief.

His hand on her collar led her into a crawl and before she knew it she was feeling that familiar sensation of her collar being attached to the chain that was eye-bolted to the headboard.

There was no escape, no pleas that would set her free.

His hand stroked over her still aching ass and slid down to caress the opening to her anus...

No...Not that...

"My little slut needs a good fuck. Doesn't she?" 

She tried tossing her head, agitation warring with the need to obey but the chain and collar restricted her movements.

It didn't matter...She couldn't stop him anyway. Not without stopping the whole scene. She gauged her fear, her discomfort as his finger softly pressed and teased the tight opening.

She could take it. She trusted him not to push her any further than she could go. To call 'red' now would be to deny that trust.

"I think that red little ass needs filling. I think that red little ass needs to be fucked hard."

She moaned, fearing that the sound would drive him to gag her. She hated the gag, hated having her mouth stretched and stuffed with anything but his cock.

Long moments passed as he moved around the room. She knew he meant what he said. He was likely getting out the lube, the condoms...maybe the larger butt plug she'd graduated to, just a short while ago...

Or did he mean to finally fill her with his own thick cock?

She wanted to ask, and yet she didn't want to know. Did he think she was ready for it? Ready for him, buried deep in her ass...slamming against her...

She felt the cool wet prod of his finger, felt him massaging her, opening her, pressing...insisting.

With great will she coaxed herself to relax, pleaded with her body to let this happen. 

Bit by bit she felt him press inward. Knew he must be knuckle deep, already...Despite the discomfort shocks of pleasure radiated from her ass to her whole pussy...She could feel herself dripping with arousal.

"Nice and open, slut...that's the way...You want me to fuck you, don't you, woman? You've had enough of fingers and butt plugs...You need more...bigger, thicker...driving up your ass, bitch..."

The sound that escaped her was a cross between denial and fear and acquiescence.

"I can't hear you, bitch. Tell me you want my cock."

She heard the words escape her.

"Where do you want my cock, slut?"

He was relentless. She knew she wouldn't get away with anything less than asking for it whether she really thought she wanted it or not...

She heard him asking if she wanted to please him. If she wanted to make him proud...

Of course she did...even more than she wanted to escape the possible pain his cock might cause.

"I want your cock fucking my ass..." she managed.

"Yes, my good little slut...yes, you do..." His voice was soft with pride and affection. She'd pleased him...

Her heart swelled.

She held that thought in her mind as his cock replaced his fingers...as he moved slowly inch by inch, stretching her wider than she'd ever been stretched. Going deeper until she felt that feeling of fullness she'd learned to love and hate.

His balls were snugged up against her ass. There was a burning discomfort, a vague need to push him out of her body...but surprisingly no pain.

"Alright, little one?" he asked, in that soft concerned voice she only heard when he knew he'd pushed her hard. When he needed to know she was still with him.

A nod would not suffice. She told him she was, trying hard not to let her voice tremble.

He seemed to stay forever there, buried deep. One hand came beneath her, stroking her hanging breasts, drifting down between her thighs.

"So wet, slut. Tell me you needed this."

She told him...beginning to believe it herself.

His fingers stroked deep, finding that wonderful place inside her that drove her straight to the edge of orgasm in seconds. He let the sensation build until moans slipped past her lips, until he knew she was on the edge...then he stilled.

His fingers stilled...but the rest of him went slowly into motion.

Slowly by degrees, he began to stroke his cock back and forth...never getting close to pulling out but moving just enough so that she could feel the stroke back in with no doubt.

The burn continued but lessened...melding into the feelings that his hand in her cunt were causing as he softly, subtly, drove her over the edge...

As she screamed his name in response to the waves of pleasure coming from her cunt she sensed him slamming deeper, his balls hitting her ass on the inward blows...

She could feel her body actually rocking back to increase the thrusts, felt her whole body screaming with orgasm...

She knew he was coming too...Coming deep in her ass, where he'd always promised he would...one day.

His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back slightly against the restraints.

The orgasm took off into a higher plane...making her scream out his name again.

She rode the spasms of orgasm for what seemed like forever...thoughtless, wild.

All too soon she felt the burning sensation of his cock sliding out...leaving her strangely empty.

Her knees gave out and she sank in exhaustion onto her stomach, shoulders aching...mouth dry from her screams.

His body pressed her deep into the mattress, his hands working to free her collar, to free her wrists...

She hated being free...

He didn't bother taking off the blindfold and she didn't try. Couldn't really, as his hands were as firm on her wrists as the chains had been.

Rolling into his body she felt him spoon her, heard him murmur 'good girl' into her ear...

And she knew she was...A good girl...

But only as good as he made her...

October 2001 – copyright by C.A.



Falling



Authors Note: This is more of an article than a story. It’s based on discussions I’ve had with a friend of mine about her past and how it bothers her. It is, for the most part, in her own words, with me just arranging things. It was originally written for a semi-well known magazine that would not print it when I refused to take out some parts. Anyways, it’s not really a stroke story, and I apologize. Send comments, questions, or death threats along either through Literotica or to me directly at the link below. 

Falling

Slut. Whore. Cunt.

My fingers are in my pussy and I feel it tighten around them every time I quietly mouth those words to myself. I imagine you standing over me, calling me those things. I don't know you. Well, maybe I do, but it doesn't matter. You're just a vehicle, a medium that delivers what I need. And you're standing over me- spitting these words at me. They are not playful or friendly in any way. These words you shoot at me with precision and intent. They tell me exactly what you think of me- exactly how I know I am deep down inside under all the layers of armor and fluff. These words are designed to humiliate me, to degrade me. To strip me down to nothing but exposed nerves. Words- these words- would mean nothing if I didn't let them. I can try to hide, but deep inside I know they're true. I'm a slut. A whore. A cunt. An easy piece of fuckmeat. I know how I let you treat me, what I let you do to me. What I need you to do so badly. How can a woman, a modern woman, enjoy being treated like I let you treat me? I let you do anything you want, and the more painful and degrading it is, the better my reaction. Knowing this, knowing how I am, turns my stomach. Literally puts a nervous sickness in my guts. It bathes me in shame. That just makes me wetter.

Some of them make me do it to myself. It doesn't matter to me, really. Sometimes it's even more degrading if you do it yourself. I remember laying back on the bed while he stood there watching me, telling me what to do. My legs were spread wide, and with one hand I opened my cunt for him, and with the other I was slapping it. I remember the words more than anything. He started off by telling me what to say. All sorts of disgusting, humiliating things. Soon, I was doing it on my own. My own self degradation was so far beyond anything he could ever dream up. And my hand, harder and harder into the most tender parts of my sex. It was red and swollen, leaking all over the sheets. I couldn't stop. I literally couldn't stop myself. I remember him saying that I was just a cunt. My whole body, my soul was only god for fucking his cock and taking his cum. I've been told worse, but at that moment it shocked through me like some kind of profound truth, and I'd never felt more like an object and less like a person in my life. My hand slammed into my pussy again, and one of my rings caught on the skin of my clit and tore it just a little bit. I can't remember ever coming so hard.

It's a cycle of self degradation deep inside me that mirrors what you do to me on the outside. It's simple but I can't stop, once I start slipping into that hole, I never stop falling. I think that maybe I find sex disgusting on every level. Perhaps it's only the shame and humiliation of doing something that disgusts me that turns me on. I know that's true on some level. I know that pain and degradation turn me on, and that knowing I'm being turned on by them only makes me feel hurt and degraded further. And the cycle, the unstoppable spiral down begins. Once it starts, you can keep pushing and I'll keep giving in, wanting and taking anything you want to do to me.

I often think about the first time I took all of a man in my mouth. It was one of the first few times I had found myself falling into myself. It started innocently enough, I was naked, kneeling in front of him as he stood. I was sucking him, like I'd done for all my lovers. I have a pretty strong gag reflex, and have never been good at taking too much of a man in my mouth. This man especially, was very large. As I sucked and stroked him, I felt his hands come down to my head. I thought nothing of it until his fingers tightened in my hair and started to push a little. I resisted him, knowing I couldn't take any more of him. He kept pushing, harder and harder, until I couldn't fight it any more and he started to choke me with his cock. I remember gagging and coughing as it hit the back of my throat, and instead of trying to fight him, I felt my hands drop to my sides and my body go limp in his hands. He kept pushing more and more of himself into my mouth, down my throat. I was coughing and gagging on him, barely able to breathe, but I did nothing to fight him. He started to fuck my mouth, every time harder and harder, tearing into my throat as I shook and choked on his cock. He was pulling my head onto him, faster and faster as he fucked my mouth. Finally, he pulled my head back and I managed to take a deep breath. I looked up at him but he was just this huge, distorted demon above me, the tears in my eyes and streaming down my face distorting my vision. I remember he called me a worthless whore then slapped me hard across the face two or three times. I stopped breathing for a moment, out of shock more than anything. He put his cock back in my mouth and started fucking my throat again for what seemed like hours. I never once raised my hands from my sides, or tried to pull away from him. Finally he shoved himself all the way down my throat and held it there as I fought for air beneath him. I thought I was going to black out, and every nerve in my body was crying out in pure panic. When he finally pulled out of my throat I took a huge breath, and as it came out I threw up all over myself. I grabbed my shirt to keep it from getting all over and ran into the bathroom to clean up. I sat on the toilet and fingered myself until I came. I was so wet I thought I'd pissed myself.

Once I'd got myself together, I went back to the other room and he acted like nothing had happened. Then he fucked me all nice and gentle like he was trying to apologize. I don't remember being bothered by what happened. I just remember being bored by how he fucked me afterwards.

I'm not stupid, and I'm not completely controlled by my cunt. Perhaps I am a little more sexual than most women, but it's not all I ever think about. I'd like to think that for the most part I'm a pretty normal person, whatever that means. Right now, for instance, the man I'm seeing is actually a pretty nice, gentle man, in and out of bed. He had never treated me the way so many others have, the way I've let them. For a long time, months, I was really good with that. I could live like that and be mostly happy I think. I couldn't live with the men that destroy me. I can't do that full time; I'm not like that full time. This is what the sane side of me, the side that's usually in control, knows is best.

I've tried to find a place for my sexual urges to fit in with the rest of me. I remember thinking for a while that I was a submissive in a BDSM sense. I tried it a few times, and it wasn't unpleasurable, but it wasn't really what I find myself wanting. Some parts of it are good, and I can fall into myself, but then I'm always forced to stop falling when that's what I want to do most of all. I remember once at this Doms apartment, stripped naked and leaning spread eagled against the wall, my hands holding me up and my ass sticking way out for him. He had a belt in his hand and was making me beg him to lash my ass with it. I did, and he did, and that went on for a while, until finally I started to need more, and started begging him to hit my pussy with the belt and all sorts of other things. He was really into the scene and got upset when I wasn't being submissive enough for him. Later he told me that I was just supposed to do as told, and that some of the things I asked for were too dangerous to be done safely. He refused to do anything that wasn't safe or were outside his ideas of what BDSM were. That's when I realized that I didn't belong in that group. What I need is something that constantly breaks the rules, not follows them.

After a while though, I start to slip. Alone in the dark, my fingers curled up inside myself, I close my eyes and flickering memories of past experiences assault me. There he is- I might know him, I might not- it doesn't matter. But he's there, all of them are there, and they're taking me, pulling me down into that abyss. Slut, whore, cunt. Words, memories, actions, painful and degrading, forcing me back down. I feel my stomach turn and my pussy tightens on my fingers.

Sometimes I catch myself and stop. I can stop, it's not impossible. But it takes a lot to do it. I have to catch myself in time, not fall into it too fast. If I can do that, if I can see it happening and remind myself that I can just as easily go watch TV or make a sandwich or whatever, and I usually will. But if I can't do that, if I don't catch myself, there is a point where I really can't stop myself. Gravity grabs a hold of me and all I can do is fall. A few times I've laid on the bed for hours, until I'm no longer pleasing myself, until I'm actively abusing myself. Cumming over and over again, not being able to stop. Knowing that there must be a bigger one coming, always searching for some mythical orgasm that will sate me, that will be good enough to let me stop, or to stop me itself. Of course it never comes. I think that's why I can't just keep these feelings a fantasy- I can't end them. When I'm with a man, it's over when he's done with me. When he's used me as much as he wants to. When he's reached his own limits, either physical or mental. When I'm alone, there is nothing telling me to stop. There's no end to it. A few times I've fallen into it so hard and fast that I only come out of it hours later, like waking up from a fucked-up dream, my body sore all over, and my pussy bleeding from my fingers working it for so long. It's those times that really bother me. My conscience gets to me then. I remember what I was fantasizing about, and after I've been falling for so long the only thing that my body reacts to is utterly vile, disgusting filth. When my head is clear, I don't like thinking about it. I hate myself because I know what I was fantasizing about; I know how twisted and wrong it was. I've almost thrown up more than once from memories of images I was playing in my mind as I made myself come. It's all sex and violence, pain and sometimes- even death on the most disturbing, perverse level. 

I remember waking up once on the floor of my bathroom, covered in piss from head to toe. I lay there quietly on the cold tile and just breathed for a few minutes, the stink had soaked through me. It filled my nose and clawed down my throat. I remember that as long as I didn't move, I couldn't feel anything. I could sort of remember the night before, but the details were so hazy. Finally the stink started to make my flesh crawl and I had to move. The moment I did every part of me started to cry out in unison. I got to my knees and fell back down before finally getting to my feet. I'd never felt so fucked up in my life. My mind was clear, but my memories were fuzzy and my body was screaming at me from all directions. I made it to the mirror and tried to take stock of myself. I was a total mess. My eye and lip were both puffy. My hair was still damp with urine. By breasts were bruised all over, and both my nipples were split, like they'd been bitten through. There were bruises and welts all over my body, on my stomach, ass, legs, even around my pussy. I could feel scratches on my back that might have been bleeding the night before. My pussy was so swollen I had to open it with my fingers to pee properly. I can't even describe how it felt inside. My ass was the worst, though. It was hanging half open, like the muscles had been cut, and I could feel deep long scratches all the way deep into my bowels. Too deep for fingernails unless he had his whole hand in there. My mouth was foul, the strong taste of piss clinging to the thick paste of semen on my teeth and tongue. I rinsed my mouth as best I could, and discovered I could barely swallow. My throat was wrecked. I crawled into the tub and ran the water, always too hot or too cold. It took me two days to clean up and heal up enough to leave the house after that.

The man was not entirely a stranger. He worked at a coffee shop near where I used to work. Once I felt up to it, I went down there to confront him. The memories were not coming back very well on their own. He was there and I walked right up to him and asked him what the fuck he'd done to me that night. He looked surprised to see me and asked if I was all right. That really shocked me. I wasn't expecting it at all. I felt like I'd been attacked, and his reaction to me really messed that up. He grabbed his jacket and we went for a little walk where we discussed what had happened. He went through everything, giving me details as I asked for them. More and more I started to remember. I had literally begged him to do those things to me, and had even attacked him at one point when he refused. He showed me a scar on his scrotum where I'd grabbed him by the balls and dug my nails in because he wouldn't hit my pussy with the thin metal antenna I'd broken off the radio in my living room. He said finally I'd locked myself in the bathroom and refused to come out unless he did something or other that he refused to, and he left. As he recounted the night, my memories flooded back in perfect clarity. I started to feel a little more calm about what happened, but he was becoming visibly shaken. I apologized to him and suggested we probably shouldn't see each other again. He agreed and went back to work.

I mope around for days after I slip like that. I hate myself deep down inside. I used to think that I hated myself because I was weak and fell into it. As time went by I started to realize that if that were true, I would feel like that whenever I slipped either alone or with a man. But I don't feel like that after I've been with a man. Sure, I'm not always happy with myself after falling into it with a man, but not with the same kind of intensity I do if I do it alone. Perhaps it has something to do with the depths I take myself to. There are depths of depravity that I can only experience in my mind, that no man could ever take me to. I would die- literally die long before I fell down that deep in any way other than fantasy.

I dated a man for almost a year that I think understood what was going on inside of me. Well, understood me at least as well as anyone ever has. He wasn't exactly the greatest guy, but he would take me down further than I've ever been with anyone other than myself and still be there the next day. He was sadistic, to say the least, and his sadism seemed to follow the same sort of path like my needs do. It would always start small then grow and grow until it was almost out of control. It would usually start with something innocent like a spanking or a little dirty talk, and we would just start to slip until finally... 

I remember this one time he was over at my place helping me put a new faucet on my bathroom sink. He thought he had the water turned all the way off, but the valve was sticky and fooled him. He was taking the old faucet off and as he turned the bolt or whatever, water started spraying out all over. We were both soaked and fumbling over each other to get to the valve under the sink. Finally he got it and we both tumbled back into a pile, laughing hysterically. I had just a plain white t-shirt on and it was soaked through, my nipples were hard and poking out as you can probably imagine. Suddenly he looked at me and I felt sexy. Really, really sexy. We started kissing, and then we were making love like crazy on the wet tile floor. I don't know what happened then, one of us said or did something and we started slipping, it got harder, then rougher, and the next thing you know I'm on my back and he's forcing his entire hand up my ass as I scream and urge him on. He's tearing me apart, almost literally. I'd never had anything that big in there before, and I could feel myself tearing. There was blood on his arm, not a lot, but enough to see. I remember looking down and seeing my blood on his arm as he rips me open over and over. My guts were crawling, I was almost sick but something in me just wanted more and more. I took the pliers and twisted my nipples with them until they bled too. Then my labia- I still have a scar from that. Finally I took the teeth of the pliers to my clit until I managed to come so hard I sort of lost consciousness. I could still sort of tell what was going on, but I couldn't move or talk. He pulled his hand out of me and jacked off all over my face, then cleaned me up and put me to bed. The next morning the new faucet was on and he'd made breakfast. That was how he was, both a total psycho and a sweetheart. I think I probably loved him, but I knew we had to split because we kept falling further and further. Eventually, I know he would have killed me while we were having sex, and I would be the one that begged him to do it.

I'm starting to realize that I'm in a very troubling situation. The man I'm currently with, as I've said, is very nice and gentle and doesn't do anything that would really set me off like that. Part of me knows that no man that truly loves me, the way we all deserve to be loved, could ever give me what I need. Another part of it is that I know that if I did fall into it with him, it would only scare him off. He's quite timid like that. That's what I've wanted and needed in my life for so long. We're so happy. The problem is: what do I do about these needs? The longer I go without a man destroying me, the more I find myself thinking about it, and the more I find myself slipping into it when I'm alone. It's getting more frequent, and the more it happens the more I lose myself to it, and then after I hate myself like always. It's all so screwed up. I know I need it, but I also know I need this man that is so good to me. But if I go out and get it, I'll lose him, I can't expect him to understand. If I don't, I'll find myself slipping more and more often and resenting and hating myself more and more. That's an abyss of it's own. No matter what I do I am always falling.



Falling



This story is true. I hope you like it.

*

I was falling for her. I really was. Stephanie and I had become inseparable in the previous two or three months and it had really made it a great summer. We met at a college party in upstate New York, both of us had been drinking pretty heavily and I overheard her speaking Spanish. I had taken some Spanish in high school and now in college so I chimed in. Her boyfriend didn't like it too much when we started carrying on a conversation, but I really didn't care, in fact, I didn't like him and really would not have minded a chance to whip his scrawny ass.

A week or two later Stephanie and I met up and I had to talk to her again. This time it was at a country bar, Bullwinkle's, and we danced a couple of times. After dancing, I bought her a beer and we began to talk. What a great girl, we were really hitting it off. She told me that she had broken up with her boyfriend and I immediately said "Really, that's great!" She looked at me kind of funny and I honestly told her "I hope you don't mind me saying that, but you breaking up means that I might have a chance with you. Honestly, I think you might be out of my league, so I understand if you're not interested".

Stephanie was hot; she had a body that seemed to be made of stone. I later learned that she was an aerobics instructor and played tennis on the college team -- that explained her being in such great shape. She was also VERY pretty. Her dad was Hispanic and her mom was white -- it made for an exceptionally nice complexion combined with stunning features -- I have to admit I was smitten.

"Really?" she said. "You think I am out of your league?" 

"Yeah, I do."

"Well" she said "I thought you wouldn't be interested in me -- it turns out we were both wrong." I was taken aback "Wow, she likes ME?" I thought. I wound up taking her home that night. I am kind of old fashioned I guess with conservative roots, so I kissed her good night after making plans to meet up with her the next day.

We immediately began to start seeing each other daily. After a couple of weeks of dating, I and a bunch of close friends who all lived near each other in an apartment complex threw a big party. It was your typical college party: lots of kegs, lots of people, and a GREAT time for everybody. Steph and I hung out with each other and our friends that night and when it was shutting down, we went inside my apartment. We had made out before -- just French kissing, but with the combination of more alcohol than normal and our growing attraction to each other, we found ourselves in my bedroom. She was obviously horny (not that I wasn't) and our heavy breathing and making out just naturally led to our clothes being removed. 

There was just enough light to make out her form as she took off her loose fitting shirt and blue-jean shorts. We were standing together still kissing and beginning to fondle each other when I made the best move I have ever made -- I still look back on this moment as one that I am extremely proud of. 

I told her to lie down on the bed and I remained standing. I told her "I hope you don't mind this, but I have got to see you." And I turned on the light.

She had a penis!!!

Just kidding....

She was exquisite. I can still see her in my mind today and it has been nearly fifteen years. Her matching bra and panties -- a satin, dark red, floral print, her beautifully toned muscles, well shaped boobs and perfectly natural complexion were incredible. 

"This" I said "is why I thought you were out of my league." I could tell she was slightly embarrassed, so I continued "You are a beautiful, sexy woman." I said "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen like this." 

"You really think so?" She asked.

"yes, absolutely!" I responded.

"You're not bad yourself" she said

"Thanks -- I'm glad you like what you see."

I admit I didn't look too bad. I was in shape from working in my family's business dealing with large equipment and I spent a little time at the pool so I had a good tan.

With that, I turned the lights back off and hopped in bed with her, rocking the waterbed. We laughed and embraced each other; both looking forward to what we knew was going to be a special night. I kissed her tenderly as I lay on top of her, our hips grinding together. I was still in my underwear (boxer-briefs) and she in hers. I was plenty hard though and was rubbing my dick into her slit through the layers of underpants. She was a passionate woman, she was just 19 but she had a way about her that really made me feel that she knew what she was doing. She reached down and started to touch my cock. She rubbed it gently and said "I like the way this feels." I replied that I did not mind it myself. She laughed again and said "I guess you don't." Then she started to slide my underwear off, I slid onto my side to help her free my cock and she slid them all the way off my feet as she leaned up. I then reached for her bra and began to take it off. She gave me a little help and soon I was looking directly at her great tits. They were perfect -- just the right size and shape. I could just make out her nipples that were erect with a small areola. I pulled her onto me, kissed her some more and worked my down to her tits. She was sitting on top of me with me kissing her tits, my cock pressed into her panties, smearing them with pre-come. We were really getting into each other. Breathing hard, touching, and feeling, she smelled wonderful (jasmine musk perfume still drives me crazy today). I reached behind her and felt her tight, smooth ass first through her panties, and then I put my hand underneath of them. I was squeezing her butt cheeks and began to slide my hand further underneath of her to get at her pussy. There is nothing sexier than a wet, willing pussy; and she was wet. I slid my middle finger through her slit, grazing her clit and coming back to her hole and then I began to slowly finger her. She was so wet and aroused I that I had to taste her. I pulled my finger out and brought it to my mouth that was still kissing her tits -- she tasted great! (This being our first time together and me not knowing how "kinky" she might or might not be, I kept it pretty straight that night.) I then rolled her over on her back and slid her panties down her legs. She had a nicely trimmed bush and I could faintly smell her sex. I laid back on top of her and just as my cock was lined up to take the plunge, she said something that surprised me...

"Harold, I'm scared." 

"Really?" I said

Well, it's just that it is our first time and, well, I don't know what I am worried about." 

'Steph, I really like you, and if you're not ready, I understand."

"It's just that, well..."

She fell silent

She then reached around me with one hand and put it on my butt, she reached underneath and put the other hand on my cock, placed it between her pussy lips and pushed her hips up while pulling my butt down -- I immediately slid halfway into her. 

She purred "mmm, that's nice." 

"So I guess you're not scared anymore?"

"No, I'm fine. Sorry about that."

I began to do her nice and slow. My cock is about 7 inches and I would pull most of the way out and slide back in slowly. She put both her hands on my butt and started to pull me into her a little faster till we had worked up a nice pace. I was in heaven, my cock in this beautiful girl, the bed rocking and both of us loving every second of it.

I learned a trick from an older woman I had dated, she told me to imagine I was her, and imagine what I would like to feel if I was a woman being fucked. It was difficult at first, but she said for me to make my dick "harder" while I fucked her to move more to and from her toes than to and from the ceiling (while in the missionary position anyway). I learned that although my cock was hard, I could force it to be just a little harder by 'flexing" it. I also learned that as I moved into and out of her from the different angle, it really excited her and caused her to come more often than not -- I think it puts more consistent pressure on the clit. 

I began to do that to Steph, within no time she was starting to really enjoy it, her breathing got faster, she was really groping my butt hard and started to say "Harold, Harold, Harold, oh don't stop, don't stop, don't stop! Yes, keep going, ungghh, unghhh yes!" she said as she came. I could feel her contractions on my dick and continued to pound away. Her pussy was so juicy I could feel it soaking my balls as they slapped her cheeks. She began to come down from her orgasm and told me that no one had ever done that for her before. 

I said "you've never had an orgasm while doing it?" 

"No, no one has ever given me an orgasm, period."

"Well then, I feel pretty special." I said as I began to start pumping again.

In just a minute or so, I felt that familiar sensation in my gut and started to really pump into her. "Where do you want it?" I asked "you'd better pull out." She said. So I pulled out and shot it all between her legs and on the sheets underneath of her -- talk about a HUGE puddle of juices in the bed. She went to the bathroom and cleaned up a bit and came back and slept the rest of the night with me.

*

More to come... And it gets worse.



Falling



It was nearing the end of the summer holidays and Jimmy was bored. He was shooting hoops in the back yard alone. All his friends were on vacation with parents or off to camp and the rest he had seen too much of already! His mom had been divorced from his dad for 5 years and she worked as a hairdresser in town. They didn't have much money and couldn't afford vacations. He had just turned 18 and had begun to look for part-time work that he could carry on with when he went to college. He wasn't having much luck though. He had spent the last couple of days very productively, namely, jacking off to nearly all the pictures in the July 1960 issue of 'Playful Bunnies'. Ok it was a couple of years out of date but who cared about that – dolls were dolls! His friend, Larry had lent it to him, and he was very glad he had! Now, however, it was the weekend which meant his mom was at home and he didn't want her catching him with his pecker out. Or did he? 

He had been having weird feelings lately which he put down to being 'a growing boy'. This was his mom's answer to all of his problems. He had broken up with the girl he had been going out with a few weeks ago. She had been a bit prudish about screwing him and he hadn't really enjoyed it. He wanted something wild and dirty. He had thought that she and her friends were childish and stupid and he found more and more that it was the housewives around the neighbourhood with their matronly curves that were attracting his attention. He bet they knew how to screw! 

In fact it was his mom more than anyone else recently that had been turning him on. He kept stealing glimpses of her from his bedroom as she wandered from the bathroom to her room, in the mornings and at night, when she wore nothing but her white cotton bra and her panty girdle. Her breasts were full and soft and he longed to squeeze them in his hands. Her stomach and ass were curved and rounded, despite the girdle and he dreamt about rolling it of her hips and over her thighs. Watching her always got him hard and he imagined what it would be like to touch her. The sound of his mom's voice interrupted his daydreaming.

'Jimmy? Jimmy! Get in here and give me a hand will ya?

'Ok, Mom, Just a minute!'

Jimmy sighed, lobbed the ball to the back of the yard and adjusted his pants to hide his hard on.

Sally was in the living room putting dust sheets over the furniture. The room badly needed painted and this weekend she planned to at least begin it. She wished she could afford to get someone in to do it but money was too tight. She was glad she had gotten rid of that creep her husband, but she sure did miss having a man around the house to help with the odd jobs and such. There were other things she missed about having a man in her life but she tried not to let herself think about that. At night she often lay in bed, a hand between her legs, rubbing herself to climax and wishing that something warm and hard was thrusting inside her. But apart from a couple of guys she had dated briefly, she hadn't had proper sex for years. 

She had changed into an old shirt that she had ripped the sleeves out off and a pair of cut off shorts – it was a warm day and decorating was warm work. As she climbed the ladder to dust the corners she wished she had left her girdle off too but some habits are difficult to break, she wouldn't have been seen dead without it, not like some of these young floozies you saw walking around. She was 41 and had worn a panty girdle all her adult life, she would probably die with it on too, she laughed to herself.

As Jimmy entered the living room he saw his mom's shapely ass make its way up the old wooden ladder. He felt his cock twitch in his pants and began to regret the abuse he had given himself lately – he seemed to have a permanent boner.

'What do you want me to do, mom?' he asked.

'Oh there you are! Hold this ladder steady while I dust round these corners, hon.'

Jimmy stood at the bottom of the ladders and put a foot on the bottom rung and his hands at each side. He tried to keep his eyes down because whenever he looked up he was greeted by that vision of his mom's ass and every now and again as she moved her shorts rode up and he could see her underwear. It made him wish once more that he could take her underwear off and see what was in there! When they had worked they're way around the room his mom began to climb back down the ladder for the last time.

'Thanks, Sweetie! That was great. You can go back outside now if you want.'

Jimmy was just about to answer an ok when his mom missed her footing and she started to slip off the ladder. He instinctively put his arms up and around her to break her fall. They landed on the floor, Jimmy on his back with his mom on her back on top of him and both his hands were clamped around her breasts. They lay stunned for a second then Sally realised the position they had landed in and made to move off her son. Jimmy couldn't believe his luck! He gripped her breasts tighter.

'Jimmy! I'm ok! I must be hurting you let me up!' 

But Jimmy just squeezed her breasts harder. The feeling of his hands on her breasts was having an unwanted effect on her – she could feel her nipples harden at the touch. Her tits hadn't been squeezed like that in a long time.

'Jimmy...?' she began

'Oh, mom. Your tits feel so nice – all squishy and soft,' Jimmy whispered.

'Jimmy let me up this minute! Just what do you think you are doing?' Sally struggled with all her might to be free – she hadn't realised just how strong Jimmy had grown. As she struggled, the buttons on the old worn shirt ripped open and she freed herself by slipping the shirt off. She crossed her arms over her bra covered breasts and looked down at her son as he lay on the floor giggling, with her shirt in his hands. Sally found the sight so funny that she started laughing too. She knelt down beside him and started tickling him.

'What the hell happened there, Jimmy?' she asked.

'I dunno, mom,' Jimmy said in between laughs, 'but is sure was funny!'

'Ok, young man, give me my shirt. I have work to do.'

Jimmy sat up but held on to the shirt. He started picking at the fraying edges at the armholes.

'Mom, I want to touch your breasts again.' 

He dropped the shirt and cupped both of his mom's breasts in his hands. Sally gasped in surprise. Without the shirt he could feel her hard nipples even better.

'Jimmy! Stop it!' Sally shouted but it only made him grab her tits tighter. Oh god, she thought. She loved it when a man squeezed her tits hard. 'Oh, Jimmy you shouldn't be doing that!'

'But, mom, I want to. Here feel.' Jimmy removed one of his hands from her breasts and took one of her hands and placed it over the bulge in the crotch of his pants. He was rock hard – she could feel his hardness clearly. She gave a groan.

'Oh, Sweetie, stop it! You have no idea what you are doing to me!'

'Let me play with your tits, mom. Just let me do that please?' He said as he began squeezing them again.

Sally was flooded with all sorts of different emotions. She felt the heat in her nipples and the desire growing between her legs but she was also burning with the shame of what she was doing. She felt Jimmy's hand go inside her bra and lift one breast out of it cotton cup and he did the same with the other. He gently stroked her large breasts and pulled on her erect nipples, marvelling at the warm, pliable flesh and the hard, rosy buds puckered at the tip of each soft globe. Sally could not resist and she moaned and arched her back. He leant forward and began suckling one of her nipples, rolling his tongue around it. He did the same to her other one. His cock was throbbing and he wondered what was going on beneath his mom's shorts and underwear. He moved one of his hands to his mom's thigh and began inching his way up it. He was inside the leg of her shorts and could feel the tight elastic of her girdle when she suddenly broke away from him, stood up and ran upstairs.

Sally went into her room and sat on the bed with her head in her hands. What am I doing? she asked herself. But the memory of Jimmy's mouth on her nipples, sucking and pulling, brought a flood of wetness oozing from her pussy. Just then Jimmy came in and knelt in front of her and put his arms around her.

'Its ok, mom.' He said, 'We aren't doing anything wrong. You are beautiful; I can't help but want you. I am so horny for you, mom.' He unzipped his fly and pulled down his pants and boxers revealing his not unsubstantial erect manhood, 'Look what you have done to me!'

Sally stared at his blood engorged penis. It wasn't much bigger than his fathers but it was thicker, more ridged. Oh, how her pussy ached to feel a man inside her again.

'Let me fuck you mom!'

His words were like a slap in the face and she shook her head.

'No, Jimmy. I can't allow it!'

'Do something, mom! Look at me – I need your touch.'

She could see how aroused he was; the fact that it was her that had caused it gave her a strange thrill.

'Ok, Jimmy I will stroke you till you cum but that's all!'

'Ok, mom but let me see you naked – please let me see your pussy as I cum!'

Before Sally could answer, Jimmy had shrugged his clothes from his feet and pushed her back on the bed. She felt his hands at the fastening of her shorts and he pulled them off. Her tits were still exposed and Jimmy pulled the straps of her bra down to loosen them more. Then he began to pull at her panty girdle. It was tight and un-giving and he struggled to move it an inch. Sally had her eyes closed and was gripping the bed clothes tightly with both hands.

'Mom, please take it off!' Jimmy pleaded.

Sally lifted her ass off the bed and began to roll the girdle over her hips then pulled it down over her thighs. Jimmy grabbed it and pulled it all the way off – he also grabbed her panties and threw them to the floor too.

'Let me see, mom! Let me see your pussy!'

Sally opened her legs and Jimmy drank in the sight of her pussy with its dark, curly hairs glistening with her wetness. He saw her pink inner lips and hard clit also glistening and peeping through the hairs. Seeing her like that spread a fire from his belly deep into his balls. He grabbed his mom's legs and moved her onto the bed fully and straddled her stomach.

'Jimmy!' Sally shouted.

'Its ok, mom! Just stroke me. Let me cum on you!'

Sally grabbed Jimmy's cock in her hand and began to slowly wank him, hoping that by making him cum they would both calm down and get over this situation. Jimmy's cock head was wet and gleaming with pre cum and he groaned as his mom's experienced hand worked him. He couldn't believe it – he had his mom naked, lying underneath him and jerking him off! Oh but he wanted more! He wanted to feel his dick push into her hairy pussy, wanted to fuck her till they both came! He leant back and with a hand found his mom's slit. It was warm and swollen and his fingers slithered in its delicious wetness. He moved his fingers around her pussy, rubbing her clit and eventually thrusting two fingers inside his mom's juicy cunt, thrusting in and out.

'No Jimmy! Don't do that, please!' Sally moaned.

Sally was afraid that she was going to cum. Years of sexual frustrations were making her weak and Jimmy was driving her wild. He was so hot and eager. Her son's fingers inside her were bringing her close to climax and she felt the need to cum but the shame of her desire was holding her back.

'Jimmy we have to stop!' Sally whimpered.

But Jimmy was not about to stop now. He had his mom wet and squirming for him and he was going to fuck her.

'Mom, I want to fuck you. Want to fuck a real woman not some prissy girl!'

Jimmy moved himself between his mom's legs and began to rub the end of his cock up and down her slit.

'Jimmy! No! No!'

He rubbed her clit with his dick and brought the tip of it to her soaking wet hole.

'Yes, mom! Yes! I want you!'

He pushed the first inch of his cock inside her and they both groaned.

'Oh, Jimmy! Stop! Oh, God! We need a condom, Jimmy! Oooooooh!'

Jimmy thrust his full, thick 6" cock deep into his mom's cunt. He stayed still for a moment feeling her pussy walls enclose his dick, feeling her squirm on it.

'I don't care about a condom mom! I'm gonna fuck you now!'

He began to move his cock in and out of her. His young, athletic body pumped her with all the vigour he could muster. He grabbed her tits as he fucked her hard, pushing her hips into the bed. The bed creaked and rocked with the force. Sally completely surrendered to him.

'Oh that's it baby! Yes! Oh fuck mommy, baby! Yeeeeeeeessssssssssss!'

She could feel her orgasm building, getting closer and closer. His shaft was rubbing her clit and his cock was pounding inside her. He could feel his balls tense and knew he was going to shoot inside her any minute. As her climax shook her, she screamed with the pleasure and her body shook and quivered around his cock. He let himself go then and came harder than he ever had and shot spurt after sticky spurt of his cum inside his mom. He fell on top of her and they lay there for a minute, panting.

'Let me up, Jimmy.'

He didn't answer.

'Let me up now!' Sally pushed him up and he was too weak from his orgasm to argue. 

Sally went into the bathroom and closed the door. Jimmy lay with a huge smile on his face! His mom was hot! He wanted to fuck her again! After a while Sally did not emerge from the bathroom so Jimmy went to find her. He opened the door and saw her standing naked in the bath holding a bag of fluid above her head. There was a tube attached to the bag and Jimmy saw that it was inserted in her pussy. Fluid was gushing out her pussy and down her legs, over her feet and into the bath.

'Mom? What are you doing?' Jimmy asked, confused.

'I have to flush all your cum out baby. We didn't use a condom. You don't want me to get pregnant do you?' 

Jimmy supposed not so he shook his head and just carried on watching. He was intrigued by the apparatus she was using. He began playing with her tits as she administered the douche. His cock began to harden again. A strange feeling gripped his ass. He felt his ass hole pucker and relax at the thought of that tube up there and all that water gushing out! Mmmmm! When she had finished he was going to ask her to do something for him and he was sure she would say yes.

'Jimmy you are getting us all excited again!'

'I know mom.'

Sally looked his growing penis and knew she wanted to take it in her mouth feel it inside her, feel her son pounding her again.

'Well go get some condoms and we'll do it all over!' Sally said.

'Yes, Mom!' and Jimmy ran all the way to the store. 



Falling Angel



After my accident I really begin to take life seriously, like never before, knowing what I know now and given a second change at love and life. Always taking folks for a ride and never stopping to think what I was doing to people, never knowing what it feels like to be honest or being used. I was left hopeless and unaware that the heavy beam was approaching me, not even the yellow hat, had a chance to say. "Hey, look out!" Or did it?

All that was running through my head, lying on the table, was how lucky I am to be alive and how many concerned folks were pulling for me to stay alive, while I lay there helpless on the beam high above the highest building around me. Wondering if I was going to make it, live to see another day, or eat another bacon and cheese pizza, while my head was ringing inside and felt the splattered blood draining from side of my head. Realizing as I lay their spread eagle that help was on its way.

Lying on the metal table with bright light starring directly into my eyes. Doctors with concern on their faces and breathing heavier through the masks, as they dig deeper into my scalp with abundance of knowledge racing around in their minds with me facing the bright light and possibly, this dark angel. Then suddenly I be- gan to feel my body moving, moving straight for the hot lamp that begins to open up, form a giant hole that at first was pitch dark but gradually changes colors so quickly. There I was, totally new to this type of environment, type of living all to- gether. It was like I was the only one up here, only thing living or breathing the toxic air that I saw around me. Large deep holes, craters, which looks something like Swiss Cheese. Moving about on air as I did cartwheels, flips, and even giant leaps!

Wondering while I was having so much fun where my meals will come from, how would I sleep, or what plants to munch on. It all seems to simple at first, but after a few hours of red sky, no water, and nobody around; my life had no meaning. Then I suddenly came to the conclusion that I might die up here of loneliness or worse, starvation. Nothing up here but old vehicle tracks and burnt areas where you might expect a vessel or any creature that might have been here.

Somehow my body was feeling full, while my needs, enormous needs were feeling extremely affectionate to anything that walks, crawls, or slithers my way. It was a feeling I'd never encountered, nor would I want to again, once this extraordinary feeling leaves my heated body. Then suddenly I saw up ahead, miles away, a huge body of water. Was this a mirage, or do I really see this giant lagoon?

Half way across this ugly desert, dry rock, my body felt weak with envy of my last girlfriend, which could really contribute to this cause, pleasure, which builds up vastly in my body. Begging with my hands high in the air for anyone, anything, to nurture me before I explode. Nourishment of a different kind to ease this pain and sorrow I so desperately yearn for in a woman. Dragging my heavy feet closer, closer to the water where families were playing. When suddenly dead people begin to surface all around my horny and tired soul, appearing from the craters. Women I don't even know were calling out my name and addressing me as some kind of whack-o with hormones. Transparent images that I walk directly through, acting as sadden and happy folks, which were trying to barricade me in. 

After I arrived at the water hole it was totally empty, like nobody was here to ease the pressure from within me. Not a trace of footprints or volleyball nets. All I can hear is harsh moans, devilish laughs, and a few glimpse of a young lady swimming out to sea and motioning me to come join her. But every time I race to great her she vanishes…why? 

"Why, why am I being punished!" I shout, hearing a lonely echo belonging to me.

"MY SON, YOU MUST SEEK OUT THE TRUTH AND EXPLOIT WHY YOU WERE SENT HERE." A harsh voice saying, "THEN THE SPELL WILL BE TERMNATED." 

"Oh, do come in darling. Its deeper than you think!" she cries out, voice from afar says in my head.

"No, I cannot do this anymore!" I cry, racing myself back to an empty shore, shell that expresses the way I feel, seashell lying silently in the sand.

It was indeed frustrating and extremely aggravating, to feel this way, to endure so much personal fluids and no one to release it into. It just wasn't right, not even normal to have so many feelings at one time building up within a person and not able to render all in one wet hole. Realizing the dead people behind me were after more, more of my battered skin and leaving without as much as a thanks. Only saying. "Oh, I can add another to my calendar." 

No matter how hard I try to relieve this tension, intense pressure; more uninviting feeling sprouts up and salutes me. Like a kick in the face, or worse, slap to my bare ass and then leaving back into the ground. Why am I being treated as so, like some kind of evil plague, taunting my mind and body and then leaving once they've had a good laugh…why?

Knowing everyone around me was naked, even me, knowing not how I became this way. That all I can remember is soaring into the bright light and portal that had stopped spinning my body around, perhaps then is how I become nude and on a strange planet. Feeling quite deprived of sexual adventures and gains I always re- ceive but never giving back to my fellow mate this same respect. Like I was being striped of my humanity, while yet another color in the sky changes, leaving me here to fend for myself as my needs were growing even stronger. Wilting away at a glance when my knee's buckles and I fall to my weak and weary knees, calling out. "Why me…Why!?"

"THE ANSWER IS WITHIN YOU, YOU MUST LOCATE IT AND PLEAD TO THE HEAVENS ABOVE."

It was though each beautiful lady was sworn-in not to touch me or inspire with her charms and untamed characteristics. Scorning me, looking directly into the eye of the sensitivity, fragile penis about to blast off. Each wearing an exotic expression all her own and in every unique style, while all I can do is lay here and breathe with a smile. Knowing when I breathe heavy like this I am using up all the oxygen on the planet, place where lovely girls prance around the warm rock and sand with nothing on except a humble smile. Going from riches to rages as I lay upon the solid rock and gaze down upon these animated creatures that was brought here to create a stir in my soul.

Living in caves, eating exotic plants, and sleeping alone with my hand on my hard shaft wasn't my idea of a vacation. But here I lay, broken and distorted, shame in my eye and gestures that seems to be the only thing I have left in my miserable and once fast life.

"HAVE YOU A CLUE WHY YOU WERE BROUGHT HERE?" A voice spoke out from the dark red sky and purple clouds.  

"No!" I shout.

"THEN YOU HAVEN'T LEARNED A THING!" Voice I hear often in my sleep and when I'm awake.

"Who are you! Why have I been the chosen one!" I shout, up to the heavens in a loincloth to protect me from these lot lizards. 

Another day went by when I set out to feast upon the berries and find a spot where I can be alone to masturbate. But every time I try, I soon loose my breath and fade into a deep depression. It got to the point where I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, all I can think about is relieving the burning sensations that refuses, reluctant, to spill from the eye of the tiger. 

Soon after another brave attempt, I saw these pretty girls, all dressed in dingy old rags that shields their humble breasts and covers up the soft mesh I yearn to feel against my lonely nude body. Watching each one with long hair and hourglass body surface from the hard ground and fall from the tall exotic trees to torture me some more. Sadly enough I had this vision, crystal clear view of a small town in which I grew up and sometimes yearn to be back there. When tears begun to drip from my eyes and a sore spot in my vastly beating heart. Then and only then I begin to realize why I am here, my sole purpose, which brought more tears to my eyes. Flashes of girls that I dated, hurt, and sometimes left alone after I had spilt my warm seeds deep within them. Then climbing to my weak feet, out stretched arms to the sky. 

"I do know now!" I shout. "I swear I will never hurt another creature of god again so please release this spell!" I cried, feeling the need to empty this animosity in peace.

"I AM GLAD, MY SON, FOR THERE IS TOO MUCH LOVE IN YOU TO DO WHAT YOU HATH DONE AND I BELIEVE YOU HAVE LEARNED YOUR LESSON MY SON." 

Suddenly a huge opening in the sky hovers over my head and I was sucked into the giant hole, vortex, which sent me hurling and spinning with bold bright colors surrounding me. Then spat out onto the street where I grew up and pleased to be a part of society once again. Feeling the presence of Beth, my friend, my lover for life.



Falling Back



Em. What u up to 2nght? –J

I stared at my phone for a while after opening the text. J, also known as Joe or Joseph on occasion. The real question here was 'why are you texting me?' You see, Joe is my ex. We've been broken up for about 8 or so months now. But the thing with us, we always go running back to one another. And guess who just broke up with his most recent victim. Oh I mean, girlfriend. Yep, that would be him. Now, don't get me wrong, Joe is amazing. I could go on and on about how amazing he was, really I could. But who has that kind of time? 

The thing with Joe Jonas is, well, he just can't make up his mind. He doesn't want a commitment, but he doesn't want to be without a girl. And the second it becomes serious, he bails. Which, I know, some people are like that, yes. But it's so hard not to fall for this boy. His looks alone will kill you. His caramel color eyes, the perfect curve of his lips, the way his hair used to fall in his face, till he cut it off. And that's just his face. Don't even get me started on the rest of him. I've always been in love with his voice, especially when he sings. Not that he'd ever admit that he has sung. 

But he's more than just another pretty face; he's got the personality to back it up. The adorable awkward-ness too. Plus, he's a good listener and he's got great advice. So what happened with us, you may ask. Ha. Maybe I can shorten it up a bit. 

When I was 18, I had gone out with a friend of mine, Amanda. She had just recently met a couple of people and they had asked her to hang out. And since she didn't want to go alone, she took me along with her. Well, basically, it was just a random gathering of people getting drunk, oh and swimming. Yeah, we were out at a lake. I later found out that the place was called 'The Berryfarm', I still don't know why. 

Well, Joe had been one of the guys Amanda had met. And she actually had a crush on him first, and wanted me to approve, so to say. Yeah, I approved alright. I don't exactly remember what happened after we got there. I mean, I know that sounds bad, but I may or may not have had one or five drinks. :) Don't judge me. But, what I do know is that Joseph and I ended up in the back of Amanda's car, talking. You pervs. We talked about everything, from school; we were both seniors, to the stars and the moon. We talked past boyfriends and current girlfriends. Oh yeah, I stole him from another girl. Well, not literally stole, but you know what I mean. 

Joe had been dating this girl, whose name isn't important anymore. She was a year or two younger than us, and he wound up cutting her lose the next day. Which, I did feel really bad about it. But she was a bitch to me, so I don't care anymore. (more about that later) Within the next few weeks, graduation had happened and it was officially summer. Every weekend was spent out there with him and his friends. It was the best summer of my life. Eventually Joe and I started dating, after much teasing from our friends. He had finally got the courage to ask me out. Of course, I said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? He was my best friend, and honestly, I couldn't wait to kiss him and hold his hand. Just call him mine. 

I fell completely head over heels for him. I was a hopeless romantic that didn't know any better. Our first date consisted of him cooking me dinner at my house. My parents had gone out of town, so we had the house to ourselves. Then we cuddled up and watched Fly Away Home. I'm not even sure why we watched that movie, but we did. Kind of a weird first date, but we had already spent so much time together, we basically knew each other inside and out. 

Our first kiss had happened before that though. It's kind of funny though. I wouldn't let him kiss me till we dated. We'd be sitting down by the water at The Berryfarm, and he'd lean real close to me. I knew exactly what he was doing, so I'd just smile at him and simply say, nope. He hated it, but I wasn't about to give out my kisses. Let alone my FIRST kiss. So our first kiss happened, the day before we started dating. It was electrifying. Ever nerve lit up, and I can't even explain it. I was just tingly all over. It was amazing. 

We didn't date for very long though. Maybe a month. A lot of drama happened between us, that I'll spare the details about. (it wasn't pretty, and I regret it) I didn't cheat on him or anything like that. Nor did he cheat on me. Just this girl tried to mess things up, and well, it worked. Jen, the girl, liked Joe and had liked him for some time. Well, Joe didn't return those feelings for her, but she was in denial about it. Anyway, the second we broke up, she was after him. 

But, hehe, a month or so after we broke up, Joe and I started talking again. Jen had told me he'd been with some chick the night before and that I needed to watch my back. I didn't care what she said, or did. Well, that night Joe and I made up, and decided just to talk for the time being. We talked for about 3 months, and never got to hang out. Because by now, it was winter. We both had a million things to do, with college, and work. Along with personal things. So we wound up not getting back together. 

It wasn't until March of 2010, just last year that we started talking again. We instantly fell back into our friendship, and started hanging out all the time. I was spending at least two days out of the week over at his house. We'd just sit out in his backyard, talking. Filling in each other about what had happened over the past year. A lot had changed since then, just like a lot has changed now since then. Anyway, we wound up texting one night, and I asked him. 

"Ya know, I kind of miss it. –E" 

"What do you mean? –J"

"I mean, the whole, couple part of it. –E"

"Would you maybe want to try dating again? I mean, we have a stronger relationship now, and I think we're kind of stupid not being together right now. –E"

So naturally he fell asleep, in the middle of this. I woke up the next morning in a panic, like always. Thinking maybe I had just messed everything up. I usually did, so it just came naturally. So, in an attempt to save myself. 

"I have no idea what I was thinking last night, I mean, that's just crazy. I don't want to mess up our friendship. –E" 

Well, I had been wrong, because he had been thinking about it too. We wound up dating for about 4 or so months before he randomly broke it off one day. I still don't know what actually happened. I had just been out to see him the weekend before that. And when I was leaving I had joked around with him. 

"Oh come on, ya know ya love me." I teased him. 

"I don't know, maybe." Joe replied, his face getting serious. I didn't know what to say, so I just hugged him, and gave him a kiss. That night he told me he loved me. I had been asleep, so I didn't text him back. Of course, I did that morning. I knew I loved him, so there was no if and or buts about it. 

So, it broke me pretty bad. I laid in bed for days, just crying. Then I blamed myself for it. I had realized that I shouldn't have gotten attached, because I knew exactly how he was. Then I went through the phase of not caring anymore, and that's when my friends stepped in. They made it all better, of course. That's what friends are for, right? 

I hadn't even talked to him since we broke up. Sure, he had text and even called me since, but I just couldn't talk to him. I couldn't hear that voice that I loved so much. But of all things I didn't block or delete him out of, I left him on my facebook. I was curious. And that would be my downfall. So I knew he had been with some chick for the past few months. And I also knew that they had just broken up about a month ago.

So, here I sit, staring at my phone. 'What am I up to tonight?' Well, if he must know, I'm doing absolutely nothing. Because well, I have no life. I'm 20 years old, and I'm sitting at home on my computer. I have no life anymore. All of my friends have boyfriends, who they spend ALL...and I mean, all of their time with. College friends? Nope, I've very shy and I can't ever make new friends. If I have to talk, I will, but otherwise I don't. 

Not much. U? –E

I patiently sat at my computer, gripping my phone tightly. A little too tightly. Trying to keep my nerves calm. I don't know why, but he always had a way of making my heart speed up, whether he was around me or just simply texting me. 

Drinking beer. Lol –J 

Of course he is. Because that's all he ever does. Rolling my eyes, I texted back quickly. 

Naturally. By yourself? –E 

No, I got my buddies out here, just need some booty. ;) –J 

Wow...so now he wanted what? A booty call? This could get fun. Ahem, I mean, is he kidding me right now? I'm his ex/ex best friend. We never even did that. And for all he knows I still haven't lost that card. (I have, but like I said, he doesn't know that) Also, on a side note, I just recently broke up with my boyfriend of 5 months. He was just...too clingy. But this isn't about him. 

Aww, you poor thing. :( :P –E 

Lol. You should come out. –J 

I had a feeling that was coming. Now, the question is, do I go or not? A reason not to go would be because this would simple be a bootycall. But a reason to go, is because well, it could get fun. And I kind of want to see him. I know that's a down side to it, but I do want to see how well he is. And that might be a reason not to go. Let's say I didn't go, I would sit here, and be bored for the rest of the night, wondering what would have happened had I gone. Let's say I do go, I have a ton of fun. Do a little teasing. Show Joe what he's missing out on. Have a random hook up. Yep, I think I'll go. What's the worst that could happen anyway? He smacks my ass? Truth be told, I like that. So.....awkward...

Well, where are you at? –E 

Berryfarm...of course –J

Ah. I should have known. –E 

Yep. Lol. So you should come out here. –J

Ah now, Joe you seem a bit desperate. Maybe I should play with this for a bit. Is that mean? Ah, who cares the fucker broke my heart. 

A little desperate are we Joey? –E 

No, I just want you out here. –J 

Why? –E 

I just do. –J 

Well can you meet me somewhere; I don't want to drive down there by myself. –E 

Let me know, when you head this way, I'll get Nick to drive me up there. –J

Nick as in, your brother? You're letting Nick drink with you now? –E 

I'll tell you about it when you get out here. –J 

Interesting. Now, I have to get pretty. I quickly looked around my room. Remembering that it would be a little cool out, I slipped into a pair of skinny jeans. I sifted through a pile of shirts, finding my purple tank top I had been hunting. I pulled it over my head, and grabbed my hoodie off the chair. I slipped my feet into my favorite pair of flats. Then I stopped in the bathroom to freshen up my make-up. Adding some eye shadow and eye liner to my eyes. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail on the left side of my head. Sweeping my bangs to the same side. 

Joe hadn't seen me in almost a year, I had to look perfect. I had to remind him of what he was missing out on. I added some lip gloss, touching the sides of my mouth to get the extra off. Winking to myself in the mirror, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. It was about 11 o'clock, yeah, my mom would mind me leaving, but she isn't here. And what mommy doesn't know won't hurt her. And with that I walked out of the house and towards my car. 

Alright headed your way. –E 

I'll have Nick bring me up the road. That okay? –J 

That's fine, see you soon. –E 

K babe. –J 

Babe? Well then. I drove down the highway and turned the corner, seeing a body standing near the road I was about to take. I smiled to myself as he slowly came into focus. He turned towards my car and I could make out his smile. I turned down the road and put my car in park. He opened my door as I looked up at him. My heart fluttered and for a second I couldn't breathe. All he did was smile down at me. 

I stood up and he quickly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. I hugged him back squeezing him tightly. He let go and laughed as I walked over to the passenger side without a word. 

"Ya know, you better be glad I know you." Joe smiled over at me, putting the car in drive. 

"Whys that?" I looked over at him. 

"Because who else would know that you wouldn't want to drive, without you saying a word?" I laughed. 

"Well, I kind of figured you'd get it by me walking over to the other side of the car." I said sticking my tongue out at him. 

"And I did know, I'm just saying is all." He said. 

"Okay Joe." I smiled, turning away from him. 

My heart was pounding, my mind was racing and I could hardly breathe. Butterflies were slamming against the walls of my stomach. I have no idea what is happening. I've never acted like this around him, not even the first night I met him. Or even after we started dating. What the fuck?! I took a deep breath and looked up at the full moon that was shining down on us. Joe didn't say a word the whole ride back towards the lake. It wasn't an awkward silence or anything, there was music playing in the background. 

We finally pulled up to the boat ramp. Yes, that is what the Berryfarm is. It's just the lake, and a boat ramp. We just sit out on the ramp most of the time. There is usually a truck backed down onto it. And Nick's truck was backed down in that spot. I laughed, it was so weird with Nick being down here. Joe and Nick didn't get along; they never had for as long as I'd known Joe. The night Joe and I met, Nick had called me Joe's girl. I remember getting so mad at him. I had gone and sat up on the ramp by myself, everyone else was out in the water. Nick had come up there messing with me, and pulled me back into the water. Joe hadn't been there at the time, but came back shortly after. No one ever told him about that. And I never mentioned that Nick had called me his girl. 

I never asked Joe why he and Nick didn't get along; it was just a common knowledge thing. I just figured it was because they were brothers, and that's how brothers were. I wasn't a guy, so I didn't know. I mean, they always fought. They're friends had to keep them apart from time to time. And let's just say, it isn't pretty when they get into a fight. A fist fight, at that. Joe put the car in park and looked over at me. 

"So, you ready?" He asked me.

"For...what?" I smiled. 

"Just...to hang out..maybe?" I tilted my head to the side. 

"I guess?" I laughed. He was being odd. "Wait," I said, grabbing his arm.

"What?" He asked, looking down at my hand and back up at me. 

"Why is Nick here?" I had to know. It was literally going to bug me for the rest of the night.

"I don't know, we're chill now. He's a pretty cool kid." My mouth fell open, to which he laughed and put his hand to my chin, closing it. "You don't want flies to get in there." He laughed. 

"I just..i can't believe you just said that. He's 'a cool kid'?" I asked. "Joe, you guys used to hate..and I mean hate each other." 

"Lot of things have changed Em. As I'm sure things have changed with you too." He said shrugging. 

"I guess that makes sense. It's just..odd." I said looking over at him. 

"I think that's pretty well the reaction out of everyone one these days." He laughed, opening the door and getting out. I followed, getting out and walking with him over to the rest of the group. I noticed there were about 4 guys and 5 chairs in circle down by the water. I laughed. Yep, just like old times. 

Everyone turned to look at us as we walked up. Joe put his hand on my lower back, leading me closer to the group. That one small gesture made me shiver. His touch was so warm and comforting. His hand slide to my hips and he placed his other hand on the other side of my hip. Walking behind me. I stopped, walking, causing him to smack into me, and almost knocking me over in the process. 

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, his breath tickling my ear. 

"Well, I don't know anyone other than Nick, I just need a minute." I said taking a deep breath. 

"So, you still get nervous and shy, huh?" He smiled. 

"Well yeah, that isn't exactly something someone can get over very easily." I said turning slightly towards him. 

"Ok ok, how about this." He said, stepping out from behind me. "Hey guys, this is Emily." He announced to the group. Fuck. I really dislike him. He knew exactly how to get me out of my shell. He turned and smiled at me, before walking and sitting in the empty chair. 

"Hey Emily." 

"Hey" 

"Sup?"

"Emily! Hey!" I knew that voice. 

"Hey Nick." I smiled over at him, walking up behind Joe's chair. He jumped up and hugged me. Well..this is very weird. What do they have this kid on? "Wow, Nick, you look all grown up." I said as he let me go. 

"Hey, I was grown up back then too." He said, causing the group to start laughing, including myself. 

"Sure, Nicky." I winked over at him. I stepped around Joe's chair and was now standing in the middle of the circle. "Alright," I said turning around to the 3 guys who I didn't know. "Names...go" I pointed to the first one. 

"Cory." He replied.

"Nice to meet ya." I smiled, and pointed to the next guy. 

"Jeremy" 

"Nice to meet you too." I said, turning and pointing to the last guy.

"Skylar, but you can call me Sky." He smiled up at me. 

"Nice to meet you Sky." I smiled back at him. "So, you guys know my name is Emily, Joe is the only one that can call me Emmy or Em, its Emily to the rest of you. I'm 20 years old, Cancer, I like long walks and romance novels. Fishing and camping. And the stars." I finished with a smile. "Oh and I'm in college, and have two tattoos. But you have to be extra special to get to see them." I winked. Now, I was getting into this. 

"You have a tattoo, Em?" Joe's said, I turned and looked at him, as he looked me up and down. Did he really just check me out, right in front of me? 

"Yes I do." I smiled. 

"Where?" He knit his brows in confusion. 

"Joe, if I tell you, I'll have to kill you." I said simply. 

"They can't be that bad." He smirked.

"I guess you will never know, will you?" I teased him. Truth be told, he could see one, if he tried hard enough. I have a shooting star across my right foot. My other tattoo is on my hip. It's a small outline of Tinkerbell, with the worlds "Fly With Me" underneath. Peter Pan is one of my favorite movies. And this tattoo was completely spontaneous. The words 'Fly With Me' are from a song Joe had written once, and sang to me. My favorite line was 'Peter Pan and Wendy turned out fine, so won't you fly with me?' Since the whole line was kind of long, I just got the last three words. No, Joe didn't know about it, and still doesn't know. 

"Aw, come on Em." He said pulling my hips down, causing me to fall on top of him. 

"Well, hello Joseph." I said looking over at him. "I can't tell you, you'll just have to find out." I smirked. "If you're lucky that is." He smiled.

"I'm always lucky, baby." He squeezed my hips, causing me to laugh. I stood up from his lap; it was hard to think being that close to him. Plus, I needed to keep my cool. 

Just as I stood up, Tim McGraw's It's Your Love came on through the speakers in Nick's truck. I laughed, it was one of my favorite songs. I looked around and smiled. Perfect.

"Hey Sky, will you dance with me?" I cocked my head to the side. Sky looked from me, to Joe and then back up at me. Finally smiling. 

"I'd love to." He said standing up and sliding his hands around my waist, as mine wrapped around his neck. We slow danced to the song, as everyone else just sat and watched. It was kind of amusing. Especially seeing Joe's face when we'd finally turned so I could see him. He was pissed. Which, just made me laugh. He didn't say I needed to be only his entertainment. :) 




Falling Back



When the song ended he hugged me tightly and sat back down. I turned around the circle of the guys I was standing in the middle of. 

"Gah, you guys are so boring, come on." I said. 

"We're just enjoying the view darling." Cory smirked. 

"What view?" I raised my eyebrows looking over at him.

"This view." Jeremy said, moving his hands up and down the length of my body from where he sat. 

"Ohhh." I said finally realizing. "You mean this," I slowly slide my hands down the sides of my body, all the way down to my hips. "view?" 

"Yep, that one." Cory said.

"Interesting. And what else are you thinking?" I smiled slowly. 

"I can't tell you that one babe." He said. 

"Oh come on," I said, walking over and sitting down on his lap. I slowly slide my tongue along my lips as he stared up at me, amazed. Like seriously, have these guys never been with a girl? It was amusing how I could do this, with such simple actions. Cory didn't say anything; he just stared at my lips. I smiled and stood back up. 

"What? No one wants me to know what they are thinking about?" I asked turning around and looking at Jeremy and Sky. No one said a word; I turned and looked at Nick. "Nothing at all?" He shook his head. "Well then, I guess no strip show for you guys." I said shrugging my shoulders. 

"Oh no, by all means, if you'd like to strip go ahead." Cory said. I laughed. 

That's when I felt a hand wrap around my arm, and pull me back up the boat ramp. Joe pulled me up towards Nick's truck when I finally got enough traction to stop him and pull my arm away from him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked me.

"What are you doing?" I asked him back. 

"I'm saving you from embarrassing yourself in front of them." 

"Oh really Joe, and how would I be embarrassing myself? Because I was going to tease your friends? Or are you really just jealous that it's for them and not you?" I said back at him, placing my hands on my hips. He ran his tongue across his teeth as his eyes searched mine. "Fess up Joe, tell me why you wanted me to come out here. It wasn't for them, it was for you." I said as I started shaking. 

Without saying anything, he pushed me back against the truck and kissed my lips forcefully. I was in shock by his sudden actions. My hand instantly went to his jaw, as I kissed him back. His hands were on my hips, pushing them back hard against the truck. I ran my other hand through his hair, lightly pulling on the ends. His tongue pushed its way inside my mouth, finding my tongue. 

I quickly pushed him back. Breathing hard, and looking up at him. His hands still on my hips. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at me. I had no idea what had just happened, but all I could think about was how I wanted more and more. How I needed more. My body was literally aching from his lips not being on mine. We both stood there, just breathing, till it became lighter and lighter. 

"I-What was that?" I finally said, slightly shaking my head. He didn't say anything. He dropped his hands, turned and walked up towards my car. I ran after him, no way was he about to get away with that, whatever it was. He stopped shortly on the other side of my car. 

"Damnit Emily." He said rather loudly, throwing his hands down in frustration.

"What?" I said widening my eyes. He huffed and kicked at the rocks on the ground. "Joe...?" 

"I think I'm gonna go home." He said turning away from me. 

"Okay..." I said in confusion. 

"You can come over if you want, either way, I'm gonna need you to drop me off." He said standing at the driver's side door of my car.

"Well, I'd really like to talk, if that's okay..." I said trailing off, still utterly confused. 

Joe walked back down to tell his brother and friends that we were leaving. I heard a few 'Does she really have to go's?' and 'Is Emily coming back?'. Fucking pervs. I swear. It wasn't like I was really going to strip for them. Especially not in front of an 18 year old, who happens to be like a little brother to me. I rolled my eyes as Joe walked back up to the car. He got in and started the car. I quickly jumped in and off we went.

We got back on the highway and drove for a while in silence. I didn't want to say anything, because it looked like he was thinking pretty hard. We passed the exit to his parent's house and I looked over at him. He must have sensed I was wondering where we were going.

"I got my own place a few months back." He said simply, not taking his eyes off the road. 

"Oh." I said turning back and watching out the window. We drove a little further when he pulled off onto this dirt road. We followed it for a little bit and then he pulled up to a small house that sat back off of the road a little ways. I smiled, it was a cute little house. We had always talked about owning something like this. He'd obviously finally done it. 

He pulled up next to his truck and parked my car. I looked around and realized there weren't any other houses, or anything other than woods around us. I don't know why this surprised me, but it did. It was the exact house we had looked at back when we were dating. We'd been bored one day, and went house hunting. I told him not to turn down this road, but he had and when we saw this house, I had instantly fallen in love with it. I couldn't believe he actually lives here now. 

"So," he started, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, looking over at me.

"Why didn't you tell me you moved into this house?" I asked him not moving. 

"I didn't think you would care?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't think you would remember." 

"Oh, I remember." I smiled over at him. 

"So you wanna come in?" He asked me. 

"Are you kidding me? I have to see what you did with our house." I said causing him to laugh. I walked over to him, bumping into him as his arm slipped around my waist. 

We walked up the steps of the porch, and he pulled his keys out to unlock the front door. Apparently we both had a lot of explaining to do later. Especially if he found my tattoo. He pushed the door open a little ways and I walked inside. He flipped on the light, as I walked forward. I stopped just behind the couch. The living room was just how I had pictured it. Two couch's, a big screen tv pushed back against the wall and a coffee table in the middle. 

I turned around and saw the kitchen. He must have just remolded it, because everything in it was new. The stove, oven, refrigerator. Everything. I smiled. There was a small four-chair table back in the corner, with three windows behind it. I bet that was pretty in the morning. There was also a bar separating the kitchen and dining table. Joe didn't say anything as I wondered through his house. He just followed closely behind me. 

"I just can't believe you bought this house." I said turning and looking at him. 

"Well, I really liked it. I've done a shit load of work on it though. If it wasn't dark I'd take you out and show you everything." 

"That was one of the reasons I loved it so much though, was that it needed work, and that we could have done it together." I trailed off. I noticed his guitar sitting on the couch, and the papers all over the coffee table. I walked over to them and picked them up. "You been writing Joe?" I asked turning around to him.

"Yeah, a little bit. Nothing to major." He said shyly, walking up behind me, looking over my shoulder. 

"I bet they are amazing." I smiled.

"You thought all of my songs were amazing." He laughed.

"Because they are!" I said quickly.

"Even that Peanut Butter song I made up." He laughed.

"Oh my gosh! That was the greatest ever. Peanut Butter, Peanut Butter, Peanut Butter and No Jelly sandwich, because Emily is weird and doesn't like jelly on her Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich." I sang as he laughed harder. 

"How do you even remember that?!" He said.

"I remember a lot of things Joe." I said turning around and looking up at him. 

"Me too." He said simply.

"Obviously." I smirked. He reached up and brushed his hand across my forehead, moving my bangs out of my eyes. I blushed and looked down. He smiled.

"So, what time do you need to be back home?" He asked brushing his hand across my chin, raising my head to look up at him.

"Mom is out of town, so whatever time I feel like I guess." I shrugged. 

"Well, you can always stay here if you like." He smiled. "I mean, it's not like I don't have the space." He said, causing me to laugh. "I'd even sleep on the couch, so you can have the bed." 

"Oh, so you won't even try anything on me huh?" I smirked causing him to blush slightly.

"No, I'm not going to try anything." Joe said.

"But..." I pressed my lips together, looking up at him. He raised his eye brow as a smile began to form on his face. 

"But what?" He finally asked.

"But what if I wanted something to happen?" I bite the inside of my lip as I looked up at him. I could see he was thinking about what I had just said. Maybe wondering if I had really just said it or not. I slowly smiled causing him to smile. 

Joe's hand slid from my chin to the back of my neck. He pulled me closer to him, touching his lips to mine. His other hand went straight to my hips, pulling my body closer to his. I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck, as we continued to kiss. He then moved his other hand down to my other hip, squeezing them tightly, and pushing me back, breaking our kiss. 

I looked up at him confused for a moment, my arms still around his neck. This teasing really needs to stop. It's enough to drive a girl crazy. Joe then pushed my hips back against the couch we were both standing behind. Someone is a bit aggressive today. He dropped his hands and walked back towards the back of the house. Which I could only assume was where his bedroom was. Well what am I supposed to do? 

Joe was acting really weird, not himself at all. Usually if we messed around he was all for it, and didn't ever run from it. At first, I was hesitant to follow, but decided to go to see what was up. I slipped out of my shoes, leaving them in the living room, as I slowly crept down the hall to the back bedroom, where Joe had disappeared to. He'd left the door open, so I just walked in. He'd pulled his shirt off, and was facing away from me. I could see every muscle in his back, and blushed. I hadn't seen him without his shirt in a long time. I sudden had an aching feeling to scratch my nails down it. Yes, that is a sexual reference. And I plan on doing that soon, hopefully. 

He turned around facing me. Changing my view to his torso. I bit my lip as my eyes scanned his abs and chest all the way up to his face. How I would love to cover every inch of him in kisses. My eyes finally met his to see he was already staring at me. I blushed, but I didn't care. He knew I loved his body, it was a weakness he'd held against me for a while, figurative and literally. That and his assertiveness. He just knew how to get me all fired up. 

"I..just...since when do you walk off from me?" I asked him, stepping inside his room. "I mean, that makes twice, in one night." 

"Em. I can't do this." He said watching me. I stopped a few steps away from him.

"Do what?" I asked.

"This." He moved his hand between him and I. "I can't just randomly hook up with you." I nodded and rocked up on my toes and back down on my heels. 

"Well, maybe I should leave..." I said starting to turn. He stepped forward and grabbed my arm.

"Please don't." I turned back and looked up at him.

"Why not?"

"I..want you here Emily." 

"But why Joe, why do you want me here? Why did you buy this house?" I asked him, stepping out of his grasp. 

"I don't know.." He looked down.

"You do know." I paused. "There had to be a reason you bought this house. There was a reason you text me tonight and said you wanted me here. Tell me Joe. Tell me why you got so mad about earlier. Tell me why you didn't cut in while I was dancing with your best friend to our song. Please tell me." 

"You asked him to dance..." 

"And since when did that ever stop you from cutting in before?" I paused as he opened his mouth to talk, but cut him off. "I'll tell you, never." 

"You aren't my girl anymore, I can't..." he trailed off.

"You can't what Joe?" 

"I can't just do something like that. If you want to flirt with other guys, you can..." He shrugged. 

"Maybe I'm missing something here." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, did you not asking me to come out here?"

"Yeah..." 

"And I came...because you asked me, not Nick, not Cory, not anyone else..." 

"Right..." 

"I came out here to hang out with you..." I said slowly hoping he'd be able to piece together what I was saying. "Joe, seriously?" 

"I know," he said. 

"So would you just kiss me now?" I asked as he laughed. "Or are we really just going to sit here and stare at each other all night, wishing something would happen?" 

"That's true." I looked up at him. 

Joe's arm slipped around my lower back, pulling me to him. He ran his other hand through my hair before touching his lips to mine. He began kissing me with more force, stepping forward, causing me to step back. He continued to walk me back. Joe slipped his hand just under the bottom part of my shirt, sliding his hand up, bring it with him. He broke our kiss and pulled it over my head, throwing it to the floor. My knees hit the side of the bed, he pushed once more cause my knees to bend and me to fall back down on his bed, breaking our kiss again. 

He unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall down, stepping out of them, before he joined me on the bed. Bracing himself above me, he leaned down kissing me hard. My hands ran through his hair, and around his neck, before sliding down his chest and stomach. I moved them around to his back, as he dropped his pelvic down against mine. Joe then began to kiss down my neck, sucking and biting as he worked his way down to my chest. I lifted up slightly as he reached back and unsnapped my bra, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. I giggled a little has the cool air hit my newly exposed skin. 

Joe smiled as he made his way down to my chest, kissing all around my breasts. He teased and played with them for while, before kissing down my stomach. I tried not to laugh as his breath hit my skin. He knew I was ticklish, but most of the time I could control it. He stopped at my waist line, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down. I bit my lip as his fingers slipped under the elastic of my boyshorts. He looked up at me as he pulled on them. I lifted my hips up for him, as he tugged and slid them down my legs and threw them to the floor with the rest of my clothes. 

He kissed the inside of my thigh and down my leg to my foot, then moved over to my other foot, kissing all the way back up my leg and thighs to my waist. He sat up for a minute looking down at my hip. At first I didn't know what he was doing. I thought maybe he was looking at my scars, I hadn't ever told him about. (long story) He tilted his head slightly, and then looked up at me. 

"I think I found your other tattoo..." He trailed off, smiling up at me. I blushed.

"I guess you did." 

"When were you planning on telling me that you got my lyrics tattooed on your body?" He cocked his head to the side slightly. 

"Joseph Adam, I am laying on your bed, naked. Are we really going to discuss this right now?" I asked him.

"Good point." He said causing me to laugh, as he leaned down, kissing my hip, where my tattoo was. He then kissed back up to my neck, finally landing back on lips. I wrapped my legs around his waist as we continued to kiss more. I pushed a little, and he gave way, rolling us over so that I was now on top of him, straddling his waist. He pulled my ponytail holder out of my hair, making my hair fall all around us. Let the teasing begin. :)

I sat up slightly, looking down at him. He simply smiled back up at me. I laughed as I tried to think of what I wanted to do. Or rather, where I wanted to start. I know everything that I want to do to him, but so much to do, so little time. I placed my hands on his chest, and grind my hips down against his. He bit his lip at my sudden actions. I could feel him growing underneath me. I smiled and leaned down and kissed him hard, keeping my hips held down against his. Slowly moving them back and forth against him. His hands found their way to my hips, squeezing them tightly, and digging his nails into my skin, forcing me down more on him. I bit his lip, as I leaned down and kissed along his jaw. I then worked my way down to his neck. Leaving him with a mark, he'd hate me for later. I didn't care though, I was in the zone. There was so much passion between us it was insane. 

I kissed down his collarbone and placed a kiss in the middle of his chest, before kissing back up his other collarbone, neck and jaw, landing back on his lips. His tongue tried to push in my mouth, but I sat back and shook my head, letting him know that I was in control here, and not him. He smiled, as I went back to kissing him. I kissed down the middle of his chest, to his belly button. I leaned up slightly, and slid my fingers underneath the elastic of his boxers. Joe lifted his hips up, allowing me to pull them off. 

I quickly leaned back up and kissed him hard, as my hand wrapped around his now hard cock. He moaned slightly as I slid my hand up and down his shaft. I leaned back down and brought his cock to my lips, kissing the tip, before licking up the side. I circled my tongue around the tip, before sucking lightly. Joe's hands ran through my hair as I teased him. 

After a few minutes, I kissed back up his chest to his lips, climbing back on top of him. Joe slid his hands down the sides of my body, back to my hips. He lifted them up slightly, and placed his cock just inside me. I slowly lowered my hips, as he pushed inside me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the slight pain to subside. Which, caused panic. I could feel Joe looking at me, and his hands went to my face, pulling my hair back so he could actually see me. 

"Emmy?" He asked me.

"Yeah.." I asked, biting my lip.

"Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He asked, "Do we need to switch?" I laughed.

"No no, I'm fine, I just...give me a minute." I smiled, opening my eyes and looking down at him. 

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes Joe," I laughed, leaning down and kissing him. "See, I'm fine." He smiled, kissing me back. "But I can honestly say, I only like it up here, to tease you, this part, I don't like so much. I mean, I like it, just not from up here." 

"What?" He laughed.

"I mean, I don't like being on top for this part..." I said laughing, causing him to laugh. 

Joe wrapped his arms around me pulling me down to him. He then rolled us back over, to where I was underneath him. I smiled up at him. As he leaned back slightly, slowly pushing back inside me. 

"Yep," I bit my lip. "That's better." I sighed closing my eyes. He leaned down placing his lips on mine, while his hips moved back and forth against mine. Our breathing picked up, with each thrust. 

I moved my hands up and scratched down his back, causing him to moan, which made him thrust harder. We kept kissing, occasionally stopping to just breathe. The only sound you could hear was the low music playing in the background, along with our breathing, and his hips hitting mine. Joe wasn't going fast, but he had a lot of force behind each thrust, which just made me crave more and more. 

Joe placed his hand on the side of my face, turning it to him. I looked up at him, as he looked back at me. I bit my lip as he smiled. He then ran his hand through my hair, pulling lightly as he did. His thrust started picking up, which was bring us both closer and closer to climax. He reached back and grabbed my leg, holding it up. Causing his thrusts to become deeper and longer. 




Falling Back



Within a few minutes Joe reached climax, which in turn caused me to climax as well. It was the first time I had ever experienced an orgasm. And let me say, it's simply amazing. And if someone could figure out how to get that feeling without all the other stuff, they'd make a fortune. Which, I'm sure by now, there is something out there that does. But we're not getting into that. 

Joe fell down beside me, both of us panting. Hardly able to move from what had just happened. I bit my lip and looked over at him; he opened his eyes and smiled at me. I laughed causing him to laugh. I turned my body towards him as he sat up slightly. 

"So, that's what we've been missing out on?" I said, still breathless.

"I was just thinking the same thing, I mean, wow." He said smiling over at me.

"I'll say." I said causing both of us to laugh. I sat up on the bed, beside him. He was facing down, so I leaned over and smacked him on the butt. 

"Hey!" 

"What?" I laughed.

"I'm supposed to do that to you, not you do that to me." He said causing me to laugh harder. 

"It was just right there, and like begging me to hit it. I can't help it that you have a nice ass. Okay? It's one of the things I first liked about you." I smirked. 

"You're joking." 

"Mayyybe." I smiled, as he rolled over and pulled me down on top of him, tickling me. I laughed and placed my hands across his chest, resting my head on top of them. I smiled up at him, and he laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"Just...nothing." He smiled.

"Oh no, you don't get to do that. Tell me." I said. 

"It's just, who would have thought?" He said placing his hands behind his head. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, who would have thought this would have happened, in our house." He said, causing me to laugh.

"Don't you mean your house?" 

"No, you remember what you said when we got here, you called it 'our' house." He smirked. I didn't have anything to say back, I just shook my head. Causing him to laugh. "I'm just saying." 

"I know, but ya know, if this would have been our house, as in both of us living here, then I'm sure this would have happened eventually." 

"That's true," he nodded. 

I sat up, looking around the floor of his bedroom, searching for my undies. I never liked being completely naked. I could go without a top, but I had to have my bottoms. I spotted them on the other side of the room. And hopped off the bed, walking to get them. Joe's eyes followed me as I did. I turned and saw him looking. 

"I just need my bottoms..." I said, walking back over to the bed. 

"Okay..." he trailed off, smacking my ass, as I climbed back up on the bed with him. "See, I'm supposed to do that not you." 

"Whatever," I said, causing him to laugh. I cuddled up next to him, as his arm wrapped around me. 

"So, I guess you're gonna stay here tonight." He said.

"Well, that is if you want me to." 

"Em..."

"Yes, Joe, I'll stay the night." I stated as he squeezed me tight. I placed my hand on his bare chest, as my head rested on his shoulder. "I could actually just sit like this for the rest of the night." Joe looked over at me smiling.

"Me too...well except, maybe a pair of boxers." He said looking down, causing me to laugh and look down too. 

"Maybe." I smiled, leaning up and kissing his chest. He slipped out from under me, and walked over to his dresser, getting a fresh pair of boxers out and slipping them on. 

Joe then came back over and pulled the covers of the bed down. I climbed under them with him, as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to him. He leaned over and kissed my forehead, before we drifted off to sleep.



Falling Butterflies



A pale blue tablecloth covered the small square café table between them, and Raymond saw one sharp stand up crease running neatly across it, from the corner by his left elbow to the one diagonally opposite. Only later did he notice that another opposite crease, less obvious, ran across the other diagonal. The obverse and the inverse he thought then, when it was too late, two sides of a whole, separated, as the table had separated him and Sally.

Sally put her coffee cup down silently in its saucer. "I'm sorry," she said, not moving anything except her lips. " I have to tell you now. I'm leaving today."

Raymond looked up from the menu, "Oh," he had no idea what she was talking about. "A Conference?" She sometimes had to go away for the day. Meetings, conferences she'd mentioned.

"God, Ray," she frowned economically, just two small lines on her forehead. Her expressions always had a meanness about them. "I'm leaving you." She stressed each word, not drawing it out too long but moving her mouth with a roundness and generosity alien to her normal speech.

"Leaving?" he was totally confused. "Leaving me?" everything in their lives was so ordered, slotted into its own place and time. Like their apartment. Each object, each piece of furniture, had its specific, precisely determined place. 

He'd seen her with a ruler once, measuring a magazine photo of a picture on a wall above a cupboard. Then she'd measured their wall and hung the same picture perfectly on it, above the same cupboard.

He never had to think about anything to do with her. She had it all in its place as he was in his. She defined it for him, drew a white line about it and gave her economical little frown of disapproval if she thought he'd crossed that line, literally or figuratively. Her definition of course, the crossing.

"But it's dinner with the Cook's tomorrow night, you told me last week. How long are you going to be away for?"

"God," she gave a theatrically pained sigh, unlike her. "I'm leaving you Ray." He saw the big round movements of her mouth again, so unfamiliar.

"You're leaving me," he repeated it, to see how the words felt when he said them, how they sounded. "What does that mean exactly? You're not coming back?" he was still confused.

"That's right, I'm not coming back." at last he seemed to be taking it in, she thought with relief, returning to her usual tight efficient way of speaking, now that she had made her point.

"I'll let you know when I'll be taking the rest of my things. Philip will deal with selling the apartment." She'd had everything organised, it had been telling this lump opposite her that had seemed too difficult. So potentially unpleasant she had put it off as long as she could. 

Just going, and leaving him a note, had crossed her mind. But it was untidy, he mightn't find the note right away, then what sort of fuss would he cause when she didn't come home. No, now she'd told him. It was all done. She picked up her cup and drew another sip through her lips, parted as little as necessary to receive the warm liquid.

"You are moving out, and taking your things, and selling the apartment." Raymond said slowly. 

He didn't feel hungry anymore, and pushed the menu aside. Was this thing that was happening something he should have known, he wondered? Was not knowing it, a sign he didn't understand her, didn't spend enough time with her? But it was she, Sally who organised their lives, even now. 

"But I don't want to sell the apartment, I don't want to have to move. Where are you going?" his brain had finally engaged with what was going on in the words she'd let out. 

She was always economical with words, like everything else, whereas he used to pour them out as if he had an endless supply, as if they bred inside him. When he was with her though they were so often stillborn, dead before they could make the journey from wherever they originated up and out through his mouth, to fall on the air. Where, like butterflies, they died after a brief flutter of meaning.

Her words were rationed, as if she knew they were limited and had to be released into the air sparingly, or they would run out while she still needed them. He easily imagined her dumb in her old age, her supply of words dried up.

But perhaps one day he'd be the one left dumb, one of those elderly people whose lips move soundlessly. Perhaps they had run out of words, expelling them unthinkingly throughout their lives, like him.

"It's in joint names Ray, it has to be sold or you have to buy me out," Sally paused, and took another sip of her coffee. She never let a drop slip past her bottom lip to dry on the side of the cup, like she ate, nothing left on her plate, rarely a crumb. The portions carefully measured when she cooked.

Raymond had a sudden vision of cooking for himself when he was single, big fried breakfasts eaten untidily and slowly on Sunday mornings while reading the newspapers, their pages spread across the floor like pieces of some giant puzzle.

"Who's Philip?" he asked her, not being able to place the name.

"Philip is a solicitor," her eyes and hands moved about unnecessarily and said more to him than any words she'd spoken. 

She only did wasteful unnecessary things when she was lying.

"Oh," he said, wondering what the truth was, having no idea what to say, trying to understand a reason. "Why Sally?" It was out, words flown from his mouth fluttering and dying on the air, never able to return.

Sally gave an economical shrug and emptied her cup, putting it down on the saucer with a sharp little click. Raymond drank from his cup and put it back and it rattled untidily in the saucer, and to Sally's ear that was the answer, and that was the problem.

"You're untidy Raymond. You're boring." She made a show of briefly checking her watch. "I'm sorry, I have to go now. I'll be over tomorrow for the rest of my things." 

Why had she bothered to put in so much time with him she wondered, and she berated herself for the waste of effort.

Raymond watched her go, following her legs, wonderful legs. He was a leg man. The first time he'd seen her that had been it, the legs, which had made him look at her. Long legs coming out of the dark under her short black skirt and finishing in high heels. He'd wanted to follow them up and put his hand up in the dark place hidden at the top.

He sat there with the two empty cups on the table till the waitress took them away. "Would you like anything else Sir?" she asked him brightly

Leaving seemed too complicated. "Another Coffee please," he said and had to give the details, Cappuccino, decaf. 

He wondered why decaf, and realised it was because Sally said he should drink decaf. He had no coherent thoughts as he drank the second coffee he didn't really want. Then he knew he had to return to the office and he paid for their drinks hurriedly and almost tripped over the step as he left, feeling abused somehow.

That evening when he opened the apartment door the silence was so unfamiliar he wondered momentarily if he had opened the wrong door. That his key fitted some other apartment, where no one was home, where no one had ever lived.

On his way home he had stopped at the local shop and bought a box of eggs, free range, even though Sally wasn't there. She who insisted eggs were bad for you. Sally who said she was leaving him, and not coming back. And bacon, he'd studied the two available types carefully and selected the dearer middle cut rashers because they looked more pink, more alive.

He went into the apartment and closed the door. He assumed it was his apartment, the furniture and décor looked just as he remembered it. Like pictures from a magazine. Visitors always commented what a beautiful apartment it was. Other guys told him how lucky he was to have a wife who looked like Sally.

He changed out of his suit into shorts and a t-shirt and cooked his food, fried the eggs and bacon, adding a tomato and toast. Feeling guilty about the fat in the air getting onto the walls over the stove. But he enjoyed eating it, sitting at the kitchen bench.

Then he sat down on the sofa and could think of nothing else to do, there was no Sally to organise him, he had become so used to it over 5 years he no longer had any idea himself of what to do at home.

He remembered again when they'd first met. Seeing her legs going by, then Paula from his office bringing the woman with the legs over to their table, him and who? Peter was it? The two women sat down with them and he'd had a drink too many to be entertaining to anyone sober, so they'd talked about his new job and Paula had told Sally how successful he was. 

Sally was pleased to give him her number when she left and he'd called her the next day, seeing her legs, wanting already to be something to her, do something for her, care for her.

Sally had thought that the man Paula introduced her to had drunk too much, but he sounded like a seasoned professional when he talked about funds management and she decided he had potential. A good haircut, Armani, Nautica or Hugo Boss and he would definitely be worth looking at. When he rang she was pleased, she chose a nice restaurant she knew, she wore a little dress that showed her legs.

He babbled on all evening, but she knew all about him the moment he told her she had fantastic legs. They went back to her place afterwards, a tidy nicely decorated place she said she shared with some other woman who was away. He was allowed to reach what lay hidden at the top of those long beautiful legs. That warm damp slit he lusted for. 

But he'd left thinking vaguely that she had been nervous or he had perhaps, and that it would be better next time. But he always felt like that, it never seemed to get better, never seemed to grow into passion.

Like all her actions and movements sex was restricted to the minimum. She had to get the most she could from it, from the effort she expended on it. She came economically, never making any sound or moving more than was necessary. So that sometimes Ray felt as if the heaving, panting, energy he expended on her was excessively wasteful and bad mannered.

Then she'd changed everything about him, to improve him. Everything outside his work, there she'd encouraged him to put in extra time, not rush back to the apartment she'd selected for them. His career she said was why she wanted him to dress better and go to the right places.

The wedding had been small, her engagement ring was an investment, large enough to bring gasps from everybody else's girlfriends and wives, and disapproving looks from his old friends.

Married in the Botanic Gardens they had a reception for 20 at Doyles, overlooking the harbour, set menu, $100 a head, excluding wine.

Her parents came, her mother economical in her words and movements like Sally. Still slim, still good legs he'd been pleased to see, imagining himself still admiring Sally's when she was her mothers age. Her father drank more than he should and Sally's mother pursed her lips, too sparing of her words to spend them on his failings.

His parents couldn't come; they'd paid for their month long cruise six months ahead. Sally's holidays were fixed and she'd booked a week in the Seychelles, an old-fashioned honeymoon, flying out the day after the wedding.

Raymond's thoughts drifted back to her legs again and the short skirts she wore, which were the bottom halves of her investment suits. He went to her wardrobe and opened it, finding them hanging there in a row like empty skins she'd shed but would return to again when it was time. On the shelf above them waited the suitcases she'd used for their honeymoon, and the trip to Europe. Taking her image of herself, unchanged, halfway across the world. And he began to pack her clothes into the cases, folding them as he'd watched her do, fascinated by the precision and dexterity of her folding, of an origami that produced neither bird nor animal only precise creases. 

But he quickly realised he was being too restrained. 

He went and got the scissors from the kitchen drawer. Then as he picked her suits out on their hangers he laid each of them down on the bed and cut up the front of each little skirt, right up to the waist. 

He was surprised that he had to check carefully to be sure to cut the front, checking the label and the zips, which tried to confuse him by moving from the back to the side. He tried to cut them neatly, doing the outside fabric and the lining separately so that now when she wore them all of her legs would be visible and what was in between them too, everything that had enslaved him to her.

****

Sally hardly moved her head as she looked about Philip's apartment. Their apartment now, and at the untidy looking man with the brilliant legal mind who lived there. She knew she could make him look better, Armani, Gucci or Prada, find them a better apartment, perhaps even an inner-city wharf conversion. 

She decided she wanted to use an Arctic theme when she decorated again; she liked the economy of creating an effect without colour. And she gave a small smile, minimal, which avoided creasing the corners of her mouth or eyes, as she thought about their life together.